Knight's Struggle_Age Of Magic_A Kurtherian Gambit Series

by P. J. Cherubino

  But as she continued scolding him in her mind, she noticed the stamped-dirt floor around him was concave. His weight had caused a small crater in the ground. She squatted down and tried to pick up his arm. It didn’t move. At all. His skin felt harder than rock beneath his tunic.

  “I’ve never seen magic like this,” Astrid said. “He seems to be part of the ground. He must be pulling energy from the ground itself.”

  “Dunno,” Lief said, shrugging his shoulders. “You magic users are weird. I just want to make sure he’s OK.”

  Astrid stood and rested her hand on Lief’s shoulder. “Thank you,” she said. “You’re a good man. As long as he’s breathing, and you see magical effects from him, he’ll be just fine.”

  “Same goes for you?” Lief asked.

  Astrid considered this for a moment. Lief was a decent fighter, but he had no head for strategy in battle. This concern for the wellbeing of others, though, that spoke of natural talent. She looked over at Stitcher surrounded by fellow bandits who all worked together to tend the wounded.

  “I have healing powers,” Astrid replied. “But you’re right. Someone also needs to look after the magic users, just like any other fighter.”

  Lief cocked his head. “I was just asking about Vinnie,” he said.

  “Your question has bigger implications,” Astrid said. “We have a lot more fighting to do. Our numbers are great enough that we can specialize. I want to make you a medic.”

  Lief looked offended. “I’m a warrior,” he said, puffing out his chest.

  Men, Astrid thought. So easily offended. “Medics also fight. You’d have two jobs. You’ve shown enough courage to fight and tend the fallen. I’ll train this army to fight in units. Medics will make sure the wounded don’t become the dead.”

  She had Lief’s full attention. “I can do that,” he said.

  “I agree,” Astrid replied. “You’re a natural. Go help Stitcher. I’ll talk to him later about being part of the Medic Corps.”

  Lief nodded his head with a grunt, then hurried over to join Stitcher. Vinnie groaned and stirred. The ground rumbled.

  Astrid jumped back in spite of herself as Vinnie rose to a seated position. His eyes were black.

  “How long have I been out?” he asked, after saying something in his ancient tongue that sounded like cursing.

  “A couple hours,” Astrid replied. “You should rest more.”

  “Nonsense,” Vinnie replied. “Too much work to do.”

  Astrid got right in his face. “OK, that’s enough,” she barked. “You need to do as I say. I can’t have you working until you pass out. You’re no damn good to us that way. You rest when I say you rest, you got me?”

  For the first time, Vinnie pointed anger at her. His normally large, round eyes narrowed for a moment. The two squared off as Astrid clenched her jaw.

  As suddenly as the moment came, it was gone. Vinnie’s shoulders fell. “I’m sorry, my friend,” Vinnie said. He was one of the few people she allowed to hug her. She could hardly get her arms around him.

  They patted each other on the back, then held each other at arm’s length.

  Vinnie said, “You are right, of course. We must watch out for each other.”

  “Damn right,” Astrid said with a smile. “Now, go get yourself something to eat. Take four hours sleep, at least.”

  “Four hours!” Vinnie exclaimed. Astrid glared at him, and he sighed. “Four hours,” he repeated, and lumbered off towards the kitchen. He grabbed some food, then lumbered off to his quarters.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Argan Village, Midnight

  Astrid’s weeks of hard training was about to pay off. At least, she hoped it would. Tonight would be the night to decide whether she had an army or not. To answer that question, she had no doubt some of her people would die. There was no way around that. But, if her plan worked, that number would be small.

  Her greatest worry was that the plan would be too complex. She had sent the civil guard messenger back to Keep 52 that afternoon with her reply to Mr. Snowflake, whoever that was.

  It was pretty obvious he had to be someone high up in the civil guard. She laughed at the use of code names, especially that one. She understood and respected the reason, but still found it needlessly dramatic.

  The civil guard were a serious wildcard in a strange game of poker. If they didn’t come through, if their intentions were discovered, or if Mr. Snowflake couldn’t organize them in time, Astrid’s plan would either fail or cost her more than she was willing to pay.

  Astrid had the advantage in terms of numbers. Mr. Snowflake had an accurate count. Three hundred-fifty fighters and about fifty fully-trained Movers were in Raluca’s force. Astrid had about five-hundred, including the sum total of all the bandits operating in the woods.

  The problem for Astrid, though, was that she needed to cover Argan. Raluca, on the other hand, had a walled fortress. She could afford to commit the bulk of her army and let the rest sit in relative safety behind the walls. But that meant Astrid could only attack with about half of her army. The other half would need to guard Argan.

  She could have committed her entire force, leaving just a skeleton crew behind. Confidence wasn’t the issue. Argan just wasn’t hers to gamble on such a risky bet, but it was hers to protect. Too much was at stake already.

  Well-rested and at full strength, Vinnie lumbered up to Astrid with a smile on his round, bearded face. His mustache danced as he gave his report.

  “Moxy’s scouts just reported everyone is in place around the Keep. Tarkon and I made sure the weapons caches are in place and safe. I found the perfect spot for our operation.”

  “And you’re confident with the layout?” Astrid asked.

  Vinnie nodded his head and replied, “Between my previous visits and the very detailed map drawn by the most recent defectors, I know it like the back of my hand.”

  Astrid grinned and bit her tongue. Any time Vinnie made a claim like that, she thought about the time when they first met when he claimed he could communicate with animals. An angry momma bear nearly removed his face. “Very good,” Astrid said. “Let’s move out before our army freezes to death.”

  She had staged the bandits at a rally point near the keep. For that, she used the hardcore bandits, who were accustomed to spending long hours laying in wait in all kinds of weather. The woods people had formidable survival skills. Now, they had the benefit of camouflaged snow suits, but everyone had limits.

  Vinnie practically read her mind. “They should be OK. Four hours in one place isn’t too much for them,” Vinnie said.

  It would take two hours to ride to the keep with Moxy and her crew on patrol to clear out anyone who might see them coming.

  Astrid looked around the square. She planned to march in with a group of former civil guard and a handful of woods people. They numbered around a hundred. She chose to do it that way because the former guard, while well-disciplined and trained, didn’t handle harsh weather very well. They’d be most useful for the second part of her plan.

  Astrid walked over to George, who was in charge of the mixed group of woods people and former guard. “Is your group ready?” Astrid asked.

  George fixed her with a lusty battle smile, then turned his head to his platoon. “Did you hear that question?” George shouted.

  In one motion, every man and woman present stomped their right foot, slapped their left hand against their left leg and shouted, “We are ready, Leader Astrid!”

  Goosebumps spread over every inch of her skin as she looked over their formation. They’d be going in on foot down the Toll Road that Vinnie and Tarkon had just cleared up to about two miles from Keep 52.

  “Give the order,” Astrid said to George. She started walking.

  “Tip of the spear!” George bellowed “Move out!”

  The march began. Tarkon and Vinnie joined her beside the formation as they marched down the spur road from Argan that met up with the main line.

 
It was then that Astrid finally saw how Tarkon and Vinnie managed to clear the roads. A wagon full of salt stood at the intersection. In front of that wagon was another, modified with a plow that hung down from the center of its undercarriage.

  “That’s…” Astrid said. “Vinnie, that’s…”

  “Genius?” he said over her right shoulder as she gaped at the device.

  Astrid chuckled. “Modest as always.”

  Vinnie cleared his throat. “Well, it is my design, but the woods people up at the Caves are some of the finest craftspeople I’ve ever met.” Tarkon also cleared his throat. “And our friend Tarkon here cast the metal for the plow blade, the leaf springs and many other metal parts.”

  “With these two hands,” Tarkon said with uncharacteristic pride. Astrid was glad to see it.

  “And the salt?” Astrid asked. “How the hell did you get that?”

  “Earth magic,” Vinnie said. “I taught Tarkon a bit of my magic, and he taught me a bit of his. It turns out they are very similar. Tarkon pulls minerals from the earth. I tunnel through the earth. We opened up another mine and used our combined forces to find salt!”

  “And copper,” Tarkon added. “And coal and gold.”

  Astrid whistled. “You just made the woods people in the Caves rich,” she said.

  “We can take what we need,” Tarkon said. “But there will be hell to pay to Moxy if we begin destroying the mountain for profit.”

  Astrid nodded her head. “True,” she said.

  Vinnie added, “Using our magic, we can take what we need and change very little. If we train others, we can harvest a great deal of minerals.”

  “Good,” Tarkon said. “I answer to my wife.”

  Vinnie nearly tripped over his feet as he snapped his head towards the Forge Monk. Astrid took in a sharp breath and held it.

  “Your… what?” Vinnie asked.

  “I mean… ah…” Tarkon stammered. “My… ah… friend…”

  Two things Astrid had never seen from the stoic man before: him being tongue tied and a full admission of his feelings for Moxy.

  “Do Pixies even have marriage?” Astrid asked after clearing her throat.

  Tarkon’s light brown face turned dark red around his high cheekbones. He mumbled something and looked at his feet. Vinnie roped an arm around him, and Tarkon stiffened.

  “I’m so happy for you,” Vinnie said. “You are two of my favorite people.”

  “All of us have a bond,” Tarkon said. “Especially Moxy and I. But to answer your question, no. Pixies don’t have marriage the way my people do. My people stand before family and declare our… “ He paused. “ Moxy and I…I mean… she doesn’t want to…nevermind.” Tarkon trailed off, struggling for words. “We are together.”

  “I get it,” Astrid said, feeling warm in spite of the bitter cold air. “I think it’s great.”

  They marched the rest of the way in silence until they came to the end of the cleared and plowed section of the Toll Road.

  Moxy burst out of a snowbank, rising up fifteen feet before landing in a crouch. Several soldiers shouted with a start and aimed their crossbows.

  “Hold!” George shouted as two scouts emerged from the woods.

  “Give us warning next time,” Astrid said, shaking her head with a smile.

  Moxy shook the snow from her silk and leather armor like a small, deadly dog. Chunks of ice and snow showered those nearby. People grumbled and shifted.

  “OK, people!” George shouted. Astrid cringed at all the noise. “Get it together!”

  Moxy saw the look of concern on Astrid’s face and reported, “Woods are clear. We had to dispose of one patrol about a half hour ago. They shouldn’t be missed for another couple hours.”

  “Assuming Raluca hasn’t changed the shift rotations,” George said.

  One of the former civil guard replied, “According to our last contact yesterday, she hasn’t.”

  “Let’s hope,” Astrid said. She led them off the Toll Road and down the back trails to the rendezvous point.

  They met another friendly patrol on the way in. So far, everything was going according to plan. Astrid left little to luck, but she knew chance was still a huge factor. She hoped that her luck held.

  With a nod of her head, the pre-arranged owl call traveled through the forest. George silently mustered the troops to move out. This was the tricky part. A hundred fighters had to get close enough to the keep for Vinnie to do his work.

  “Time?” Astrid asked Tarkon in a low voice.

  The Forge Monk checked his pocket watch. “Two minutes.”

  They were almost in position. Another owl call went out. They could see the gray keep walls dotted with the orange tips of light from torches here and there above the crenelations.

  “This is the spot,” Vinnie said. A long chain of fighters spread out behind him in the woods.

  “It seems close,” Tarkon said, looking at the ground, then over to the wall a few hundred feet away.

  “It is,” Vinnie said. “But they’ll be too distracted to wonder why the earth is shaking so much.”

  “Let’s hope,” Astrid said. “Are you feeling strong?”

  “Like a bull!” Vinnie replied. He’d slept most of the day to save up his energy, as per Astrid’s orders.

  Tarkon stared at his pocket watch and raised his hand up high. Everyone fell silent as they waited, then Tarkon dropped his hand.

  Vinnie’s eyes turned black, then glowed red with the image of molten rock that flowed behind them.

  The sounds of crossbows hummed in the gray night. Men screamed from the top of the wall as they were speared through. Vinnie lifted his hands over his head and the ground in front of him opened up like the mouth of a great earthworm. Down into the tunnel they ran.

  Vinnie had calculated a straight shot from the woods, under the wall, and into the warehouse. The distance was a couple thousand feet, and it seemed to take forever, even though Vinnie ran at full speed with the army behind them.

  The tunnel finally angled up and broke ground. The light from Vinnie’s glowing hand illuminated a warehouse packed with goods. The only problem was that they were hemmed in by crates, boxes, and barrels.

  “Damn,” Astrid said. “I suppose it had to go wrong somehow.”

  Only about twenty people could stand in the middle of the stacked wares. The rest of the invasion force stacked up in the tunnel. Word went back down the line to wait.

  “I can move this,” Vinnie said. “But when I do…”

  “No more surprises,” Tarkon said.

  Moxy crouched and leaped easily to the top of the piled boxes.

  “Door is that way,” she said, pointing to the left. “There’s a clear path after… four crates deep?” Moxy said. “Hard to tell.”

  “Jump down!” Astrid called. “Let’s go!”

  Outside, they heard calls to man the walls. Alarm bells clanged, and horns sounded. Stage two of Astrid’s plan was about to happen.

  “Stand back,” Vinnie said.

  With a deep breath, the big earth mage crouched down. A second later, he sprang forward like a bison. Wood splintered as Vinnie rammed through boxes and barrels like a cannonball. He crashed through the thick wooden doors without slowing down.

  “Go! Go! Go!” George shouted.

  Troops poured out of the tunnel and burst out of the warehouse. Just as they planned, half ran for the gates while the other half split into two sections to cover them with crossbow fire.

  Mr. Snowflake was true to his words. The rebelling civil guards were already turning on the skeleton crew of Raluca’s troops, who had remained behind to guard the keep. The rebels wore black sleeves on both arms to distinguish themselves from those still loyal to Lungu.

  Astrid lost sight of Vinnie. That wasn’t part of the plan. He was supposed to stick with the group as it emerged from the warehouse.

  “Fire, fire, fire!” George shouted. Two lines of crossbowmen formed up and began firing at Raluca’s tr
oops atop the walls and around the gates.

  The scene was complete chaos. The enemy troops who rushed to defend themselves from an outside attack found themselves being cut down from the inside. As planned, the crossbowmen were soon joined by the rebel civil guard. The covering force was now nearly doubled.

  Vinnie barreled back across the yard and skidded to a halt beside Astrid. Several crossbow bolts and arrows hung from his torn clothing. His skin was still hard as stone.

  “Where were you!” Astrid demanded.

  “Sorry,” Vinnie said, eyes glowing with red lava. “Had to take out a Mover and his crew.”

  Astrid nodded her head as the covering force continued to fire. The rest of the force outside the walls, who caused the initial distraction, began coming through the tunnel. They carried extra ammo and arms with them and staged them behind the shooters.

  Tarkon joined the group. “Final stage,” he said, holding up his pocket watch.

  Astrid smiled. She could see, in her mind’s eye, the plan working. Right about now, the small force of woods people would be winding down their operation. Their job was to run around the walls in their camouflage suits, firing from staged positions to make it look as if the keep was completely surrounded.

  Perfectly on time, one of the leaders of that operation ran up to Astrid. “Last groups coming through!” she announced with wild eyes. “It worked perfectly! Raluca’s army is trapped outside the gates!”

  “Did you lose anyone?” Astrid asked.

  “A few,” she said with a grimace.

  “We have quite a few wounded in the warehouse, too,” the fighter replied.

  “See to them,” Astrid said. “Grab some rebels. Hold the warehouse.”

  “The gate is secure!” George shouted after turning away from the woman who gave him that report. “First group did their job!”

  Already, Astrid’s fighters were thick on the walls with arrows and crossbows. They rained down death on Raluca’s army outside.

  Astrid caught motion from the corner of her eye. Tarkon was already on it. He blasted a large group of Raluca’s troops that were heading their way. They were led by a Mover. Tarkon was aiming for him, but his bullets bounced off some invisible force and took out one of the troops beside him.