Elsewhere ti-3

by Richard D. Parker

  “I saw you go down,” Marcum stated once the small skirmish came to an end. More and more Deutzani were fleeing the vicinity and retreating down the Scar and for the moment their area was relatively clear of threats.

  Birdsong smiled. “Strong guts,” he answered and turned to show Marcum a large bloody spot in the left side of his leather jerkin. “I’m not dead yet.”

  The group forced their way to the edge of the Scar perhaps three hundred feet east of the trail which led to the plains below. Now there were only about two hundred Deutzani on the Plateau and the number was falling rapidly either through retreat or death. Marcum smiled in relief and looked down at the smoldering town below. The Deutzani army was being attacked by a large group of Massi civilians. The Massi attacked like a mob, no tactics and with a wide variety of weapons. Marcum spotted everything from swords to farm implements, but rabble or no, they clearly outnumbered the Deutzani and were pressing them back toward the river. Marcum was glad for the reprieve, but once the Deutzani got over their initial surprise they would make short, bloody work of the Massi mob, no matter their numbers. But then suddenly to the west Marcum saw Captain Gaston and the Massi Cavalry burst from a tree line. The cavalry quickly formed lines and made their lances ready. They charged, and as they crashed into the Deutzani rear a great cheer erupted around him. Marcum shifted his gaze back to the Plateau…it was again in Massi hands. There were only a few dozen Deutzani left and they were falling rapidly.

  Marcum screamed his pleasure with the rest of his men and watched as the Deutzani panicked and their lines began to disintegrate. Blood lust began to spread across the Plateau and a group of pike men began to rush down the trail to join the fight on the plains below. Nearly fifty were on their way before Marcum could put a stop to the foolishness.

  “We hold the Plateau,” he said loudly to all those around him, though he too was fighting the desire to go and join in the carnage. The battle lasted only a half an hour longer and when it was over Marcum could not see as single Deutzani soldier standing.

  “Bloody bastards,” he said and felt not a hint of remorse.

  ǂ

  General Lonogan Bock stood among his army of twenty-three thousand men and women and watched the Palmerrio cavalry ride off to the south in an obvious flanking maneuver. Bock glanced back but Kommidi and his own horsemen were already moving off to shadow the Palmerrio force. In the days before the enemy appeared at the mouth of the pass, Gwaynn, na Gall and Monde took turns projecting and reporting on the Palmerrio movements and troop numbers. It was because of their reconnaissance Bock knew that the total Palmerrio cavalry numbered over three thousand. This was twice the number of Kommidi’s force. The disparity worried Bock, but the young Captain had strict instructions not to attack the Palmerrio horsemen. His only job was to distract the enemy cavalry and keep them off the army long enough for Gwaynn and his group of attack troops to capture or kill the Palmerrio King.

  However, Bock’s main concern was not the Palmerrio cavalry; instead he worried about the vast infantry which was arraying itself in the valley beneath them. At nearly thirty-five thousand men the Palmerrio and Rhondono army was massive and took nearly twenty minutes to quick march into position.

  Lonogan looked about, inspecting his own lines, but they’d been set and waiting for the enemy to arrive for several hours. As it was his lines stretched nearly a quarter-mile with three masses of archers placed just behind the heavy infantry, one group of archers on each flank and the largest in the center. The Palmerrio would face withering arrow fire on their march up the long, steep hill.

  In the distance, well behind the enemy’s lines, Bock saw a group of horses and soldiers. He could just make out the Palmerrio King’s signal flag; King Weldon was now in position. The smaller hill, though not ideal, would offer a good vantage point for the enemy generals to conduct the upcoming battle. Bock nodded to no one in particular and again glanced back, this time farther down the hill to where Gwaynn and a group of Toranado heavy infantry waited with the Travelers, out of sight from the Palmerrio troops and Generals. Bock thought he saw Gwaynn looking up at him, but at this distance he could not truly tell, but he had little time to dwell on the question before a far off horn sounded and the Palmerrio and Rhondono ground troops began to march across the narrow valley.

  The enemy approached slowly at first but as they reached the bottom of the steep hill they broke into a trot. Lonogan glanced off to the south but both the Palmerrio and Massi cavalry were hidden from view. He hoped Kommidi was up to the task and kept the enemy horsemen off their flanks. This was the one area of the plan which caused him genuine concern. Kommidi was young and the men under him were untried. If the Palmerrio were allowed to hit their flanks, serious damage could be inflicted on their smaller army and they could lose everything even if Gwaynn managed to cut Weldon’s head clean off.

  “Hold!” he heard Captain Hahn command his archers and then very faintly he heard a repeat call, a female voice…Samantha, coming from the right.

  “Hold!” Hahn called again, but then moments later he yelled. “Fire!” Hundreds of arrows whistled overhead and arched gracefully down to the enemy below. Volley after volley shot past and into the air, raining down on the quickly approaching enemy. From his position Bock could not see what effect the arrows were having, but he hoped it was significant.

  “Prepare!” he yelled as the front lines of the enemy approached within a hundred yards.

  “Aaaauuuu!” the Toranado infantry yelled in answer and crashed their shields together and moments later the Massi infantry answered with their own yell of defiance. Several more volleys flew overhead and this time Bock could tell the attack was effective if not devastating. Lonogan actually smiled, but it fell quickly from his face as he caught sight of several figures near the front of the enemy lines, both were wearing long black robes trimmed in red.

  ‘Executioners!’ He thought with a rush of dread, but then the two armies slammed together and all coherent thought fled before the violence.

  ǂ

  Gwaynn fidgeted as Monde, na Gall and Laynee all worked to build a bridge that would appear some fifty yards from Weldon’s position. They did not want to Travel too close or the first to emerge would be dangerously outnumbered by the King’s personal guard. The three Travelers began working just as David Hahn shouted “Hold,” for the first time. Gwaynn forced himself to be patient and not help the Travelers in any way. He needed to be strong and fast when he joined in the action. The fight would be rough and bloody, most personal guards were nothing short of fanatics, but he fully expected to win through and take the King Weldon himself. As he fidgeted, he glanced in Samantha’s direction but she was too far away and he could not make her out among the many others, but as he watched a large volley of arrows arched gracefully into the sky.

  ‘Hurry!’ Gwaynn thought as volley after volley was launched from the top of the hill and down at the enemy. From his position he could not tell if the missiles were having any effect, since the targets were still hidden from view on the far side of the hill; he heard no screams; he heard no cheers.

  “Bastards!” Prince Phillip said quietly and Gwaynn glanced at him with a small smile. Phillip’s Weapons Master Tabernas tried to convince his Prince to stay out of the raiding party and instead help General Bock lead the battle, but Phillip would have none of it. King Weldon Palmerrio attacked and conquered his homeland…with the help of the Temple Knights, and Phillip was not going to miss his chance to strike a very personal blow against the King from the north.

  “Everyone stay in tight,” Krys ordered loudly so that all five hundred men could hear. The group shifted position, though they were already packed in very close. Somehow, the soldiers pressed even more tightly together. Through the bridge, vague colors became visible and Gwaynn knew the time was very close.

  “Aaaaauuuu!” he heard the Toranado heavy infantry yell from up on the hill.

  “Aaaaauuuu,” called the Toranado men around him ver
y softly, not wanting to give away their presence. Gwaynn was impressed that they managed to keep their voices down in the excitement. Their caution was unfounded because seconds later the crest of the hill erupted with sound, the clash of metal, the defiant yells of men and women, followed quickly by the screams of the wounded and dying. The soldiers at the base of the hill looked up at the symphony of noise, but Gwaynn continued to stare intently at Monde. The Traveler opened her eyes and stared into his.

  “I will be watching and waiting for your return…do not dally,” she ordered and Gwaynn nodded.

  “Travel!” the two women and Laynee yelled in unison, the young girl’s voice sounding like a small bell, surprisingly clear among the more horrific sounds of battle coming from the hilltop.

  The bridge expanded to impressive proportions and Gwaynn, Krys, Phillip and Tabernas rushed through, but more followed quickly since the bridge was sufficiently large enough that six men could file across together. The raiding party started through without hesitation, without even checking to see if they were in the correct position. Gwaynn trusted the Travelers and the soldiers trusted Gwaynn.

  Their trust was well founded for when Gwaynn and the first popped out on the far side of the bridge they were just over sixty yards from Weldon’s position. Around the King stood his personal guard, numbering perhaps eighty men; fifty were mounted on horseback, but there were another thirty or so men on foot. Most of those on foot were archers by the looks of them. Without pausing to get a truly accurate read, Gwaynn and the others ran directly at the enemy. They ran quietly, wanting to get as close as possible before they were detected.

  “Ho!” Phillip yelled to Gwaynn’s left and he glanced around. Farther down the hill and perhaps two hundred yards away to the east were hundreds of archers and perhaps five hundred horsemen all mounted and waiting. Gwaynn could not get a clear count because some of the force appeared to be hidden from view by another small hill.

  ‘Reserves!’ Gwaynn berated himself. ‘How could Monde and na Gall missed them?’ The horsemen were facing away and toward the battlefield but there were groups of archers milling about and some were facing their direction and they were all within easy bow range. The Palmerrio archers were already screaming out warnings to those around them and to Gwaynn’s dismay he saw that the King’s personal guard was know alert and taking up position to meet them.

  Gwaynn toyed with the idea of immediately retreating even though he was now only some thirty yards from the nearest of the King’s guard. Archers from among Weldon’s group were already shooting arrows his direction. If they were going to turn about it had to be now, but then Gwaynn spotted two figures dressed all in black, robes trimmed with red and in a blink all thoughts of retreating vanished.

  “Charge!” Gwaynn yelled and began to sprint up the small hill. He glanced briefly over to the reserve archers who were now shooting arrows up at their position, their rate of fire quickly increasing. Several arrows whizzed past his head but he could do nothing about them so he turned his attention back to those in front of him. Gwaynn realized his men had to engage the enemy archers quickly before the mounted personal guard could form a barrier against them. If this gamble was to work now they had to get to the Palmerrio King within the next few minutes or the reserve cavalry would reach and overwhelm them.

  Arrows flew past on all sides as Gwaynn ran. He adjusted his route slightly in order to head directly for the Assassins. He would handle them while the others hopefully carried out the mission. He glanced about for Krys, to tell him to go after Weldon, but his Weapons Master was no longer by his side. He didn’t have much time to wonder about it before suddenly he was on the pair of Executioners. They stood ready, confident and just before Gwaynn engaged them he noticed that one of the black robed figures was a woman. The realization surprised him and caused an uneasy feeling to bubble up in his chest.

  ‘Female Executioners.’ He found the thought strangely disturbing for some reason. But then he was on them and though he was surprised by the woman’s presence, it did not stop him from turning her first blow and then slicing her head off just that quickly. He spun to face her partner, quickly blocking his counter move, noticing the look of shock on the man’s face.

  “She’s not my first,” Gwaynn growled. “Nor my last,” and then he waded in on the man, his blows coming so fast and with such power that the Executioner immediately knew that he was facing someone with truly uncommon skill.

  “A Tar!” The Executioner thought to himself just before he lost his left hand at the wrist. A few seconds later his right kali was knocked aside and he lost his head, which plopped in the dust at his feet, his body fell and then jerked about as if trying to run, not yet realizing it was dead.

  Gwaynn didn’t stop to gloat; instead he turned and quickly checked on the position of the Palmerrio King. To his surprise Weldon Palmerrio was rapidly moving to the east, away from the threat which materialized out of nowhere. He was galloping in the direction of his reserves. Gwaynn watched with a frown as a mass of Palmerrio cavalry charged past their King and straight for his position. Gwaynn was not aware of how much time had passed while he’d fought the two Executioners, but he did not think it was overly long. Of Krys he saw nothing. All around, the Toranado troops were battling with the King’s guard who were heavily outnumbered and falling rapidly. Gwaynn was at a loss as to what to do next but knew he had to decide quickly. The Palmerrio cavalry reached the bottom of the hill and began charging up toward them. They were closing fast and would be on them in seconds. Gwaynn knew they would have trouble retreating if the reserves were allowed to reach them.

  “Coward!” Prince Phillip yelled and Gwaynn knew the comment was directed at King Weldon, who continued to retreat down the hill away from them. Weldon was well passed his reserve archers and still moving fast to the east. His immediate group showed little sign of slowing. Gwaynn grimaced; they would not be catching the enemy King today. He cursed softly and started to shout the signal to retreat but he was interrupted by an attacking guard on horseback. The man was good and so was his horse, but as a pair they were much slower than Gwaynn and it only took him a few minutes to find an opening. He killed the horse first and the guard moments later.

  “Fall back!” he yelled and glanced around, expecting to see the reserve cavalry and archers nearly upon them, but instead the reserves were moving back toward their King, who was surprisingly still retreating and taking a good portion of the reserves with him.

  “The Palmerrio are breaking off!” Tabernas yelled and pointed toward the main battle. Sure enough, the enemy was slowly disengaging from the fight and was beginning to head back in their direction.

  “We need to get out of here!” Phillip yelled, afraid they would be cut off and surrounded by the retreating Palmerrio army, luckily at the moment there was little danger left in their immediate area, even the reserve archers were retreating out of range. There were a few individual fights still taking place but the Palmerrio guards in the vicinity were soon dispatched.

  “Back to the bridge!” Gwaynn yelled and as if by command the bridge, which was being held open in miniature, suddenly expanded before them. Gwaynn ran toward the way to safety, looking about for Krys and wondering why his Weapons Master had not moved on the Palmerrio King, but again he did not find him. Then suddenly, just outside the boundaries of the bridge, Gwaynn caught sight of his friend lying prone in the grass, an arrow protruding from the right side of his skull. Gwaynn’s stomach lurched and he ran to Krys, knowing he was dead, but feeling an overwhelming need to check. He knelt in the grass as an entire army of the enemy topped the hill and moved in his direction. Gwaynn gently turned Krys over on his back. The arrow struck him just below and behind the right temple and was buried deep in his skull. Krys’ eyes were still open but blank. Surprisingly there was very little blood.

  “Come,” Tabernas said quietly and it took Gwaynn a moment to realize the Toranado Weapons Master was kneeling by his side. Gwaynn checked for a heartbe
at but did not find one. He was not expecting to, but how could he not check?

  “Come,” Tabernas repeated and gently touched Gwaynn on the arm.

  Gwaynn fought off a wave of sadness, his own body going slack. He did not respond to Tabernas as the Toranado infantry streamed past him and through the bridge. Gwaynn reached down and tenderly pulled his friend’s eyes closed, but still he would not leave. He tried to pull the arrow from his friend’s head but it would not come so in the end he just snapped the shaft as close to the temple as he was able. He paused a moment longer then stood. He grabbed Krys under one arm and Tabernas took the other without being told.

  The Palmerrio army was only a few hundred yards away and running toward them, clearly keen on killing them all. But without a word, Gwaynn and Tabernas fled through the bridge pulling Krys’ body with them. They were the last of their group to move through to safety.

  ǂ

  Samantha fired arrow after arrow into the onrushing Palmerrio army. She saw her last hit a man high on the shoulder and he went down, but the rest were lost in the crowd and confusion of the battle. Samantha did not immediately discard her bow as the two lines met in a loud clash of steel, wood and flesh, instead she continued to hunt for openings in the lines hoping to get a clear shot into the enemy position. She released three more arrows into the tightly pressed lines of men. Two of the missiles clanged off shields or armor but the last buried itself into the neck of a Palmerrio soldier. She thought nothing of it, but then had to shoulder her bow as the enemy army began to push the front lines of the Massi back. All the archers around her were doing likewise. Without orders they all began to take up their long pikes which rested on the ground near their feet.

  Cobb, who was Samantha’s constant shadow when she was in battle, lifted his own pike, and worked his way in close to her side. She glanced up at the simple man, but he was intent on the fighting going on before them.