The King of the West

by Pedro Urvi

  “That’s not exactly a discreet outfit for someone on his way to battle,” Ingrid commented.

  “The eastern nobles are like that,” Leenbiren said disdainfully. “They like to shine.”

  “He’d better stay in the rearguard,” Gerd pointed out, “or he’ll attract a shower of arrows.”

  “Don’t worry about him, newbie. He won’t go anywhere near the front. He’ll stay behind giving orders. That’s how things work.”

  Gerd wrinkled his nose. “I’m not that much of a newbie. I was in the campaign on the Frozen Continent.”

  “You were? You must still have been in the Camp.”

  “That’s right.”

  “All three of us were there,” Lasgol said.

  “Well I never! The Ice Gods have blessed me with a bit of luck. I thought you were greener.”

  “We’re green, but we’re beginning to take on a bit of color,” said Ingrid.

  “Hah! I like that. And I’m half rotten, I’m so past it, but I still have a campaign or two left before I’ve finished rotting.”

  “Yeah, I can tell,” Ingrid said, pinching her nose as if he smelled bad.

  Leenbiren gave a guffaw. “This campaign’s going to be interesting. On we go, it’s up to us to lead the way for this pack of shining little soldiers.”

  They mounted and set off. At the same time the remainder of the Rangers left, heading west. They crossed the imaginary line which separated the two halves of the kingdom and entered territory which was under the control of the Western League: enemy territory. Lasgol had warned Camu, who was following them in his camouflaged state. Leenbiren led the march and set an easy pace. He was in no hurry to fall headlong into an enemy ambush.

  They crossed a large river, and the other Rangers separated to find the positions they had been assigned. Lasgol turned on Trotter’s back to look back and saw the Duke’s forces setting off. They moved as if their muscles were stiff, knowing that they were heading into war and that bloodshed and death awaited them.

  After half a day they came to the largish village of Milendren, which was deserted. The villagers had fled with nothing more than the clothes on their backs when the warning came that the forces of the East were on the march. Lasgol thought of Skad, his own village, which was a little further northeast. He hoped the Duke’s forces would not go there, for the sake of Martha and Ulf and the other inhabitants. Thinking about Martha and Ulf filled him with a longing to see them and hug them. How much he would have given to be able to enjoy a quiet dinner with them at his own home!

  He smiled. Dinners with Ulf were never quiet, especially if he had taken a little too much of his painkiller. He knew that visiting them would be impossible under these circumstances. Besides, the probability was that Skad would have been evacuated by now.

  “Who’s the best tracker among you?” Leenbiren asked.

  “Lasgol,” Ingrid said. “He’s extraordinary.”

  “Okay, Lasgol. You lead the way. Make a good job of it, because we’re risking our lives. They’ll have watch patrols hidden all around.”

  “Yes, sir,” Lasgol replied, and moved ahead on Trotter. He dismounted and began to track the path and its surroundings. Ona went close beside him. He could not see Camu, but he knew he would be somewhere nearby.

  Ona. Track, he ordered. The obedient panther began to sniff ahead of him.

  Camu, you too. Warn me if you see anything.

  I warn.

  “Hey, big guy, cover his back,” Leenbiren said.

  “With pleasure,” Gerd replied. He dismounted, armed his bow and placed himself behind Lasgol.

  “Ingrid, check the village.”

  “It’s empty,” she replied, unwilling to leave her two partners.

  Leenbiren glowered at her. “It’ll be empty when you’ve checked it.”

  Ingrid leapt off her mount and readied her short bow. Leenbiren stayed a little behind on his horse, his compound bow at the ready, watching their rearguard in case they should be surprised from behind. Lasgol found any number of tracks of the villagers, who had clearly fled in a hurry, and there were also footprints of soldiers: nothing especially worrying. There were also a couple of tracks going into the forest which caught his attention.

  Ingrid went into the village warily. She flattened herself against the wall of one of the houses and with her bow armed, looked around at the square and the houses around it. Everything seemed deserted. With a quick movement, she changed position and flattened herself against the opposite wall, crouching, to check the other side of the square. She took care not to offer an obvious target in case there was an archer in one of the buildings.

  Lasgol followed the tracks to a small ravine, but there he lost them. Gerd followed him closely, covering his back. Ona chirped to his right, and Lasgol signaled to Gerd to follow him to where she had stopped. She had found the trail.

  Ona. Good, he transmitted to her, and petted her. When he went on, he found traces of a campfire. Two men, of average size and not wearing military boots, had spent the night there. They were not warriors, but they might be agents. He showed Gerd the two pairs of prints that led away from the camp and went on to the north. Gerd in turn examined them, and they followed the trail.

  Ingrid went into the biggest house of the village. She switched weapons and took out Punisher, her special tiny bow, then slowly nocked an arrow. She started to go upstairs to the next floor in search of a good view of the village. Going from one house to another would take her forever. Suddenly a figure appeared at the top of the stairs, armed with short axe and shield, and hurled himself at her. In an instinctive move, at lightning speed, she aimed and released. The arrow hit the figure above the top of his shield, in his forehead. Ingrid flattened herself against the wall and let the assailant roll past her as he fell down the stairs. She nocked again, but the man did not get up. He was dead.

  Lasgol saw that the trail led to a group of boulders the size of houses, then vanished behind them. He signaled Gerd to stop.

  “They’re behind those boulders,” he whispered.

  “What d’you want to do?”

  “I don’t want to put Ona in danger. If they have bows she could be wounded, or worse.”

  I go, Camu said. He had suddenly become visible beside them.

  “My, you scared me!” Gerd cried, looking horrified. Camu looked at him with his bulging eyes and licked his hand.

  “You’ll have to get used to it, big guy.”

  “I know, what happens is I see him appear and he startles me out of my wits. I know it’s because I’m…”

  “Don’t worry.”

  “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it…”

  “You will, just wait and see.”

  Lasgol turned to Camu and pointed. Can you climb up those boulders?

  I can.

  Fine, climb up and tell me what you can see.

  Camu became invisible again, and Lasgol, Gerd and Ona waited at the ready.

  I up.

  What do you see?

  No good.

  Enemy?

  Yes.

  Two?

  No. Six.

  Six?

  Yes, and horses.

  “There’s a complete patrol behind those boulders,” Lasgol told Gerd.

  “How many?”

  “Six at least, maybe more that Camu couldn’t see.”

  “Well, good job we didn’t try to catch the two we were after.”

  “Yeah, thank goodness.”

  “What do we do?”

  “Move back before they see us.”

  “Okay.”

  They sought refuge behind a couple of oaks and kept their eyes on the boulders.

  “I have the feeling that those trails we’ve been following were put there for us to find,” Lasgol said.

  “A trap?”

  “Yes, for trackers like us.”

  Gerd nodded. “For Rangers. Bad business.”

  “Yup. They’ll be ready, waiting for us.�
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  Ingrid stared out at the square from a window at the top of the village leader’s house. As it was the largest and tallest building, she had a good view. Suddenly she saw movement in one of the houses to the north, and decided to investigate. On her way she took a look at the dead warrior downstairs. He did not seem to be a watchman or an explorer; he was armed to kill and was wearing dark clothes, not those of a soldier.

  “That’s odd…” she murmured under her breath and went out, crouching. She stayed close to the walls of the buildings, looking to all sides, with her bow at the ready. In each action she had to choose which of her three bows was the most suitable, and for short distances like this the two smaller ones were best. She was also carrying the compound one on her back for long and middle distances. Following Egil’s advice, she had named each of them. The tiny one, the first she had named, was Punisher. The short one she had decided to call Swift, since of the three it was the fastest to nock and release. The compound bow she had called Spot-On, since of the three it was the one that gave her the most precise shots.

  When she reached the building where she had seen movement, she switched bows and nocked Punisher, which was better in closed spaces. She could have gone in with axe and knife, which would have been logical in that situation, but she was an Archer and had grown used to her bows, so that now, hand weapons felt strange to her. It was not that she could not use them, because she could, and very accurately as well.

  She opened the door carefully. The moment she did so, a spear flew out from inside. Luckily she had foreseen trouble and stayed to one side of the door, with her back to the wall. In a swift movement she rolled over her head, went past the door and saw her attacker, then released and finished her roll to the other side of the door. She heard the sound of a body falling on to the floor and peered inside, but there was nobody else. She went in with her bow at the ready and examined the body, which was that of a dark-clad warrior armed with spear and shield: definitely not a watch guard. She went out and decided to comb the village in case there were more of those warriors waiting in hiding.

  “They were waiting for us…” she muttered to herself.

  Lasgol communicated with Camu: Where are they?

  Three left. Three right.

  Okay. Warn me if they move.

  I warn.

  “It’s a trap. They’re waiting for us. If we go any nearer around the boulders, we’ll both end up dead.”

  “So do we retreat?”

  “I don’t want to leave this trap here so that other people could fall into it.”

  Gerd nodded. “Do we attack?”

  “Something like that,” Lasgol replied. He winked.

  For a while they worked on their arrows. Then each of them faced one of the ends of the boulders. They nocked their bows, aimed high to fly clear of the rocks and released simultaneously. The arrows flew in a very high, short arc and fell immediately behind the boulders. There followed two explosions of fire.

  “Will it work?” Gerd asked, while Lasgol nocked another arrow.

  “Let’s hope so. They’re carrying a double charge.”

  They heard screams, and at the same time two columns of black smoke rose to the sky. The target sites were on fire.

  “Get ready in case they attack,” Lasgol said.

  The giant nodded. Lasgol used his Gift and called upon his Cat-like Reflexes and Improved Agility skills. Two green flashes ran through his body.

  They heard the neighing and galloping of horses and aimed. Three riders came out of one side, three from the other, carrying spears and round shields. Lasgol released at the first one on his side, and Gerd did the same almost at the same moment. The arrows hit the chests of the first two riders on either side, who fell off their horses. Lasgol nocked again rapidly, and Gerd did the same a moment later. They released at the second riders, who were already charging at them, but these were better covered with their shields. Both arrows were aimed at the uncovered shoulder which was holding the spear, and both hit their targets. The riders grunted in pain, but did not fall.

  The wounded riders stopped their charge, and the two last ones took their places. They raced toward the two Rangers, who were now obliged to bring them down or else be skewered. Both friends aimed carefully and released, knowing that they would have no second chance. The arrows flew the short distance and buried themselves in the unprotected heads of their attackers, who tumbled to the ground. The riderless horses raced past Lasgol and Gerd, who were already nocking another arrow, and the two wounded riders fled.

  They escape, Camu transmitted.

  “They’re getting away at a gallop,” Gerd said, as though wondering whether to shoot them in the back.

  “Let them live. They’re wounded, they won’t be fighting for a while.”

  Gerd nodded and lowered his bow.

  I follow, Camu’s message reached him.

  No! Don’t follow them!

  Enemies. I follow.

  Camu! Come back at once!

  His friend became visible on top of the boulders. He looked at Lasgol with his head on one side. He was not happy.

  Not fun. Follow fun.

  Lasgol gave a loud snort. Come back and don’t get into any trouble.

  Camu did as he was told, but not before transmitting the message: Boring.

  A short while later they joined Ingrid and Leenbiren and told them what had happened.

  “They left those infernal nuisances so that they’d take out our explorers and trackers,” Leenbiren explained. “Probably to get rid of Rangers like us.”

  “They definitely weren’t soldiers,” Ingrid said.

  “Nor explorers either. The trail they left was too obvious. They wanted us to follow them.”

  “What I said. They’re Ambushers. They try to slow down the troops’ advance. If they get rid of our explorers – us – the troops don’t get any further.”

  “Well, they didn’t succeed,” said Ingrid.

  “They didn’t succeed with you. We’ll see what’s happened elsewhere.”

  “Will there be more?” Gerd asked.

  Leenbiren nodded. “Sure to be. Our army advances in three sections. Each group will have to face the same thing, and – I very much fear – worse than that. This doesn’t smell good to me. It seems to me that this King of the West, this Arnold, is pretty clever – either him or one of his counselors. They’re going to make things difficult for us.”

  The three friends glanced at one another. They all knew who the intelligent counselor was.

  Leenbiren gestured behind him. “We’d better get on. The Duke’s forces are already arriving.”

  Further on they came across another obstacle, a huge one this time. A canyon between two mountains stretched before them. Cutting off their way through was a huge landslide of trees and rocks. It looked as though half the mountain had come down and blocked the pass.

  “This wasn’t caused naturally,” Gerd said.

  Leenbiren nodded. “Far from it.”

  “This is going to hold the troops up for a while,” said Ingrid.

  Leenbiren pointed up to the top of the canyon. “Make sure there are no more traps around, and especially up there.”

  Gerd gasped. “That’s going to be quite a climb.”

  “I’ll go up the right-hand side,” Ingrid volunteered.

  “And I’ll take the left,” said Lasgol.

  “Go carefully,” Leenbiren warned them. “It’s steep, and you might have company at the top.”

  They started their climb, and Lasgol told Ona and Camu to stay below. He did not want to risk their lives.

  Leenbiren and Gerd tracked the lower area and found no more dangers. Ingrid went up as if she were taking a stroll in the countryside, with enviable strength and stamina. Lasgol found it harder, but they both managed to reach the pass, which was at a fair height. This was Rangers’ territory, and the soldiers could never have climbed up there. They took the last stretch with their weapons at the ready in cas
e there were warriors waiting for them there, but Lasgol glanced briefly from behind a rock and saw that the summit was deserted. He signaled to Ingrid that there was no danger. Ingrid signaled back with the same message.

  They went down carefully, since the descent was often more complicated than the climb, and joined one another in front of the landslide that blocked the pass.

  “The Duke isn’t going to like this. It’ll delay the advance by several days.”

  “Can’t we make a detour?” Ingrid asked.

  “The detour would mean we’d be delayed for several days longer.”

  “Let’s report back and secure the area, then.”

  As Leenbiren had predicted, the narrowness of the pass meant that it took them several days to clear the canyon. The Duke was very unhappy about the delay. The troops went on working there for a whole week. There were several further small ambushes which they were able to sort out, but which delayed them. Nor were they the only ones who were having problems, because the other groups of Rangers were affected too. Duke Oslevan was attacked twice, once on the right flank, the other at the rear. They were able to repel the attacks, but they suffered casualties. The Western attackers did not try for open battle. Instead they launched guerilla attacks and fled afterwards, so that they suffered few casualties. The attack from the rear was particularly painful. The Western soldiers managed to set fire to fifty or so carts of supplies and equipment which were following behind the Duke’s advance-guard and were not so well protected. They tried to save the remainder once the attack had been repelled, but many of the carts had been put out of action. Several of the Rangers who had been keeping watch at the rear had been killed in the attack, as well as all the soldiers who had been protecting the carts.

  Every day and a half a messenger brought and took back news. The Duke was not at all pleased with the progress they were making. They needed to arrive at the city of Trondehan, where they were due to join the remainder of the King’s armies, and they were running very late. Knowing the King, Lasgol understood the Duke’s concern. Making him wait would almost certainly provoke one of his outbursts.

  Finally, they reached the summit and saw the city of Trondehan in the distance. It looked completely deserted.