Elsewhere ti-3

by Richard D. Parker

  “No M’lord. We cannot lay siege to Manse and ride all over the countryside hunting the Massi rabble,” Hothgaard answered, hoping to placate his King.

  “I will be coming,” the King announced confidently. “I will have the entire Rhondono army to protect me until we reach Manse. Massi must fall…quickly.”

  “As you wish,” Hothgaard answered and a sudden feeling of dread swept through his body.

  “And the siege…it is going well I presume?”

  Hothgaard paused, reluctant to tell his King of the recent fiasco. “The defenses are strong, but we nearly breeched the walls this morning. It will not be long before the city is ours.”

  “And yet you ask for aid,” came the King’s voice through the ether, the doubt and suspicion plain in his voice.

  “The Massi have proven problematic,” Hothgaard answered, only briefly perturbed by the King’s tone.

  “Problematic?”

  “We’ve lost contact with the Deutzani and the Massi cavalry are exceedingly well trained,” Hothgaard answered.

  There was a long silence, one which Captain Hothgaard eventually broke.

  “Which is why I would advise you to stay on the King’s Island.”

  “I’ll be leaving in three days…with the Rhondono army,” the King answered adamantly. “I would appreciate better news upon my arrival.”

  Hothgaard shrugged but only his Speaker could see the gesture.

  “We’ll make another attempt to breech the walls of Manse in two days time. If we are successful the city should be in our hands before you land,” he answered.

  “And you are sure the city is the key?”

  “Yes,” Hothgaard repeated with a sigh. The High King seemed fixated on Solarii, the former capital, located high up on the finger of Massi. “Arnot was foolish to attempt to defend Solarii and the surrounding peninsula…his son seems not so inclined. The way to Solarii has been left open and undefended. Manse is the key to holding the country; from there you control access to both the plains and the Plateau.”

  “And Lynndon?”

  “Yes, but Lynndon can be a bottle neck on both levels…let the Deutzani have Lynndon,” Hothgaard replied. “If you can persuade King Weldon to attack and crush Gwaynn and his army, then we could hit Manse from two sides. As it is, Gwaynn will not push too far south…not with the Knights at his back.”

  “I’ll speak with him,” King Mastoc answered, “and I’ll be leaving in three days time.”

  “Very well,” Hothgaard answered then sat quietly and tried to convince himself that everything would be all right. Even so, a feeling of doom spread over him like a warm, wet blanket. ‘More like a death shroud,’ he thought and with a wave dismissed Speaker Nadler.

  ǂ

  Tarina Grace moved down from the ramparts where she was supervising the repair work on the section of wall that caught fire during the last attack. The work was going well and moving along quickly. Every defender expected another attack while they were vulnerable, so motivating the townsfolk to work fast was not a problem, but the Temple Knights remained camped quietly in the distance. It was a mystery to Grace why the Knights did not immediately make another attempt to take the city walls. She expected them to come the night of the first attack, once the fires died out, but they did not. Now she was beginning to suspect the Knights had some new strategy in mind, something unsuspected, something deadly.

  She knew Manse was vulnerable and she believed strongly that it would fall during the next attack. She absentmindedly walked back through the growing town, trying to think of a strategy to save it from destruction. The Massi people were braving the constant threat well, and many smiled at her encouragingly as she passed.

  ‘It would be a shame to lose the place,’ she thought. ‘The people of Massi are working hard to rebuild.’

  When she reached the edge of the Scar, just before the bridge that led to the Plateau above, she veered to the west and moved among the hospital tents. The day was growing cooler; fall had arrived at last. It was not a good thing. Her body was getting old and didn’t handle the cold as it once did; she just hoped this war would be over before the full force of winter hit.

  “Tarina!” Doctor Linkler called out as he emerged from a nearby tent. He immediately joined her, walking in stride and smiling at her as if she was a very good friend.

  “You are preparing for the move?” She asked and his face became grave.

  “It will not be easy to move some of the seriously injured,” the doctor replied.

  Grace frowned. “It’s less than twenty miles and the Plateau is perfectly flat,” the Tarina insisted. “And you must admit, if the city falls…and I believe it will; the wounded would be far better off in Colchester than here.”

  “Yes,” the doctor agreed tentatively. “I cannot argue that they would be better off in the short term, but if Manse falls will any of us be safe?”

  “Oh Manse will fall, unless Prince Gwaynn can quickly defeat the Palmerrio and reinforce the town with his fighting men.”

  Linkler remained quiet, resigned to the fact that he would be moving along with all those able to travel.

  “And Samantha?” Grace asked as they walked into the main hospital tent.

  “She is awake, sore but doing better,” the doctor said. “It was a nasty fall, but she sustained no broken bones, and the baby seems to have come through no worse for wear.”

  Grace spotted Captain Cyndar almost immediately although for the first time the Tarina actually was able to see the woman’s face, which was finally without bandages. As she walked closer, Grace realized that the Captain was a truly beautiful woman. Her hair was dark brown, nearly black, and hung to her shoulders in soft waves; she had dark eyes to match her hair and a flawless, creamy complexion. But she sported a new scar that ran along the line of her jaw on the left side of her face. It was her only flaw…but as Grace studied the woman she got the distinct impression that Cyndar was proud of her new look. Of course, it was not a rare thing for male soldiers to take a certain morbid pride in their battle scars…but a woman?

  Cyndar was currently sitting on the edge of a bed, topless, her arms up in the air, revealing a pair of large, well formed breasts. She was apparently unashamed by the nature of her situation. The Captain seemed relaxed and unaware of the attention she was garnering, even though every male eye within the large tent was now glued to her semi-clad figure. A young nurse was busily wrapping a tight bandage around her midsection. There was only a tiny spot of red on the otherwise white linen.

  “You are well?” Tarina Grace asked, and she eyed the bandages higher up on the woman’s right shoulder.

  Cyndar’s eyes stayed sharp but she nodded. “I will be able to return to the wall,” she said with an added look of determination.

  The Tarina studied the young woman for a moment. ‘She would have made a fine Tar,’ she thought and wondered how Noble missed such an opportunity.

  “I’d like you to lead the wounded and any civilians who wish to leave, out of Manse,” Grace replied, deciding to get right to the point. She did not believe the woman before her would be swayed by pretty words and arguments.

  Cyndar frowned and her eyes flashed. “I will stay.” She answered bluntly.

  “You’re to be commended on your courage,” Grace replied. “And you’re a fine fighter, the best Manse has…even wounded, but the town will fall and the wounded need to be moved before that happens.”

  “Manse will not fall,” Cyndar retorted, slightly insulted and wondered at her own misplaced loyalty.

  “It will,” Grace insisted. “And when it does there will be no time to save the wounded. They need to be moved to Colchester…we’ve already contacted the magistrate there and they’re preparing for the influx.”

  “I will stay,” Cyndar repeated and could not keep the threat of violence out of her eyes.

  Tarina Grace caught and recognized the look. “I would not ask this of you if you were not among the wounded…and I’ve
had the same discussion with Samantha Fultan. Prince Gwaynn would not thank me if either of you were sacrificed for a lost cause.”

  “Samantha,” Cyndar whispered with a faraway look in her eyes. “The baby!”

  “The baby’s fine,” Grace told her quickly, mistaking

  Cyndar’s hope for concern.

  “Samantha has agreed?” Cyndar asked, surprised.

  “Yes…she is brave and led her archers well, but she is with child and beginning to grow heavy. I cannot look after you both while the Knights storm the walls…it’s too much,” Grace added and noted the slight change in expression on the woman’s face.

  “Manse will fall?” Cyndar asked, apparently on the edge of being convinced.

  Grace nodded. “We may hold through one more attack. If the Knights had attacked in the night, the city would already be in their hands.”

  Cyndar sat silent for a time as the nurse finished her bindings, then she stood and gingerly put on her shirt, hiding her breasts. Grace could almost hear the groans of disappointment coming from the men around her, but she ignored their distress and concentrated on Huntley.

  “We need you to lead the wounded…they need their Captain,” Grace added glancing to doctor Linkler, who nodded and gave a slight, encouraging smile.

  “Alright, I’ll go to Colchester…and heal,” Cyndar conceded, her thoughts now dwelling on the bitch with the red hair. “And then I will return…even if Manse has fallen,” she added dramatically.

  “Good,” Grace said and reached out and gently rubbed the woman’s shoulder. It took all of Cyndar’s self control to allow the touch. “The doctor believes he’ll be ready to depart by tomorrow morning.”

  “Very well,” Cyndar said. “I’ve some business to attend before we leave,” she added and sauntered from the room. Grace couldn’t help but notice that every male eye in the tent followed the woman and she sighed lightly, envying the woman’s youth and beauty. It had been a long while since she could command the eyes of men.

  ǂ

  The rain fell hard and straight on the Plateau and the sky was a flat gray that spread from horizon to horizon. King Weldon stood beneath the awning of his private tent and watched the downpour. He ignored the occasional soldier who walked by, head down against the driving assault from above.

  “I should rouse the men,” General Sanchez said from just behind his King. Weldon said nothing as the Speaker pushed past, the hood of his cloak pulled tightly over his head. Without hesitation the man headed off into the rain, eager to be away…not from his King so much as the three Executioners who now accompanied him.

  “Any word from the cavalry?” Tar Giodart asked as he emerged from the tent, amused by the Speaker’s obvious fear of him. Tar Rhinehold and Tarina de Croix stopped just behind in the flap of the tent.

  “I still think we should wait until the weather clears,” de Croix commented, though she fell silent as Giodart turned to stare at her.

  “You heard the High King,” Weldon stated though he did not turn.

  “No…there’s been no word from Captain Bradley,” Sanchez spoke up, answering the question which was truly on all their minds. “But I gave him explicit instructions to circle about the Massi position and wait for our attack…he’s never failed me.”

  “Well let’s hope he continues his good work,” Giodart said as he finally pulled his eyes away from the Tarina.

  “Yes,” Weldon agreed. “I’m sure he will. When do you expect the cavalry to be in position?”

  “The Massi have stopped their slow retreat before us and are camped peacefully only a mile to the north…I’d say Bradley has already completed the circle and is in the enemy rear as we speak,” Sanchez put in confidently. “From the lack of reaction from the Massi, I’d say they’ve gone undetected.”

  “Then we must not delay,” Giodart replied and held one hand out from beneath the awning to test the temperature of the rain.

  “In this rain?” de Croix grumbled softly.

  “Yes…in this rain,” Tar Giodart answered growing eager…what was a little rain. “The Massi will not expect it.”

  Weldon remained quiet for a spell, eyeing the gray sky above. It promised nothing but more rain…perhaps for days. “Very well,” he finally said. “Muster the men.”

  ǂ

  “na Gall tells me the Palmerrio are preparing to attack,” Monde said her eyes locking with Tar Kostek’s. Suddenly in the midst of war, she felt safe; she felt as if the Travelers might well survive this conflict.

  They all sat around several small tables which were pushed together, save for Tarina re N’dori, who sat off in a corner, her eyes closed in silent contemplation.

  “In this weather?” Saran asked, clearly surprised.

  “This late in the day?” William asked equally astonished.

  “It’s a sound move,” Gwaynn said. He sat near the center of the group with Vio on one side and Tar Kostek on the other, “though risky. Have we heard from Captain Gaston?”

  Monde shook her head. “I can attempt to contact Sarbeth.”

  “We need to know,” Lonogan confirmed with a nod. Monde returned it and moved off toward the rear of the tent.

  “We need to get the men ready,” Prince Phillip said then moved to the opening of the tent and spoke softly to one of the Toranado guards that followed him everywhere.

  “The weather is a blessing. It will hide our presence,” interjected Jinja, speaking of the Tars and students from Noble. Gwaynn shook his head at the excitement in the young man’s voice, and was suddenly worried for them all.

  “Yes Jinja,” Kostek said softly. “The rain will surely hide us, but that may not be a good thing.”

  “There are not many ordinary soldiers who would be willing to face a Tar,” Endid explained to his student. “Many battles in the past were avoided just by the presence of the Tars of Noble…if they can’t see us there may be unnecessary bloodshed.”

  “You’re clear on where you will be in the coming battle?” Kostek asked the students, but looked up as Monde rushed over.

  “Gaston?” Lonogan asked, though he truly wanted to ask about Jess. She volunteered to travel forward with the scouts and it worried him. The weather did not help.

  Monde shook her head. “na Gall. The Palmerrio are on the move!”

  There was a great rumbling of chairs as everyone stood and began to head toward the opening of the tent. Gwaynn reached out and grabbed Vio by the arm before they made it to the exit.

  “Will you stay in the rear and protect the Travelers with Bethany?” He asked though he knew the answer.

  Vio smiled sadly. “You care for me?”

  Gwaynn frowned. “You know I do.”

  “Ah but you have never looked at me they way you look at Samantha Fultan,” she said and abruptly started to leave the tent. Gwaynn tightened his grip.

  “I’m training to be a Tarina…I will be a Tarina,” Vio said spinning back to face him, “and sometimes a Tarina must kill!”

  They stood looking at one another for a moment as people rushed past them, apparently unaware of the drama, at least until the Solitary re N’dori came near, laughing softly.

  “Come Gwaynn of Massi…we three will fight together,” she said and put her arm affectionately around Vio’s waist. They left the tent as a trio, Gwaynn with a wry smile, thinking of his other Solitary friend, Tar Nev and wondering if the man was projecting and watching at this very moment. Gwaynn hoped he was…and felt better for the thought.

  The rain was falling straight down out of the heavens as if in a hurry to get to the ground, which had long ago turned into a wet, muddy mess around the camp.

  “The footing will be nightmarish,” Lee Brandt said speaking loudly as he walked behind Gwaynn and Bock. They were all soaked, with water dripping from their hair. There was activity all around them as soldiers prepared for battle, but Gwaynn was happy and gratified that no one appeared to be panicked by the approaching army.

  He picked up his pa
ce until he was walking side by side with Tabernas and Prince Phillip.

  “I’d like the Toranado to be on the far left,” he said.

  “The left?” Phillip repeated surprised, but Tabernas just smiled and nodded.

  “You would have us attempt to circle and push the Palmerrio toward the creek,” he stated and Gwaynn nodded.

  “We still have no word from Gaston. I’ll need the Toranado to press the Palmerrio…trap them against Rose Creek if possible.”

  Rose Creek, though normally a nearly empty gully, was now swollen with rain water, which was moving fast toward the Scar. The creek would run along the western side of the battlefield guarding both armies against any flanking maneuvers from that direction…though of course the Palmerrio would still have to be wary of the any movements initiated by the Travelers.

  Phillip nodded then, understanding and was suddenly awed by the young Massi King’s strategic mind. Everything he did on the battlefield seemed simple enough, though at times unconventional…actually often times it seemed obvious, but only once the strategy was explained. Gwaynn had a way of breaking down the terrain and using it and his army in the most effective way. Phillip was suddenly glad he did not have to face the Massi in battle.

  The Tars Myson and Halstad would be positioned to support Captain Lee Brandt and the Massi heavy infantry in the center. Their presence would do much to strengthen their lines. Gwaynn, Vio and re N’dori would be on the Massi left holding the gap in the lines that would develop as the Toranado pushed out and attempted to encircle the enemy. Tar Kostek, Endid and the rest of the students would be on the far right, near the creek.

  In the rain, the effectiveness of the archers on both sides would be diminished so Gwaynn had instructed Captain Hahn to push out even farther to the left and support the Toranado with halberds rather than arrows. Kommidi and his horsemen would be positioned in the rear to guard against encirclement if the Palmerrio cavalry suddenly appeared. They would also be in a good position to offer support in case any part of the lines began to unravel.

  The Travelers would not be used in the coming battle unless everything went horribly wrong, and would be tucked safely in the rear, much to Bock’s pleasure and peace of mind. It was bad enough sending Jess out with the scouts, he wasn’t sure he would be able to keep his wits about him if she was in the heart of the battle. He felt a new appreciation for Gwaynn and Samantha; somehow both were able to function quite well on the battlefield despite the anxiety for the other’s well being.