He was sitting hunched over, his arms around his knees. He glanced up, blinked at the sudden light.
“Who are you?” He spat the question.
“A friend of your brother.”
Tristan’s grey eyes flashed at the mention of Trey. “He’s alive? Where is he?”
“Once we get out of here, I’ll take you to him,” Corin replied.
He found the keys hanging on a peg by the entrance. Taking them down from the wall, he unlocked the cell door and knelt by Tristan. Corin released the chain that shackled Tristan to the wall and helped him stand.
Tristan stared at him. “Do I know you?”
“It’s been a few years. I’ll explain everything once we’re quit of this place,” Corin replied. “It sounds like they’ve discovered some prisoners are missing.” Triumph sparked in his chest as a commotion broke out upstairs.
Orders were shouted as men ran to collect weapons and search parties were formed. Corin and Tristan remained hidden until the noise subsided. As they prepared to venture up the stairs, footsteps tramped toward them. Corin slid his scimitar from its sheath. The guard took one look at his dark, hooded figure waiting at the bottom of the stairs and turned and ran. Corin sprang after him, felling him with a quick stroke.
Tristan joined him and grabbed the guard’s scimitar. They cautiously continued on. Voices alerted them to more soldiers coming down the hallway toward them. They ducked into an adjacent passage as the soldiers hurried by.
Corin and Tristan made their way to the main doors as fast as they could. Cracking the doors open, Corin glanced outside. The courtyard was deserted, and the gates wide open. He looked at Tristan. His captivity was telling on him with each heavy breath.
“Ready?” Corin asked.
Tristan nodded, and they stepped outside into to the early morning sunlight and ran to the stables. A cry went up as they crossed the courtyard. They had been seen! Bursting into the stables, Tristan grabbed a bridle and put it on the nearest horse. Corin did the same, and then leaping onto the horses’ bare backs, they clattered out of the stables.
Surprised soldiers dodged out of the way as they charged through the courtyard and out of the gates. Horns sounded behind them. A signal was being sent to the other patrols. It wouldn’t be long before the enemy was on their trail.
* * *
Back at the camp Trey paced restlessly. Liam and Martin exchanged helpless glances as they tended to the rescued prisoners.
“I’m going to look for them.” Trey picked up his bow and quiver.
“Take a horse, they might need one,” Martin suggested.
Trey grabbed the reins of one of their horses and rode out of the camp.
“He’s still as stubborn as ever, isn’t he?” one man said.
“Aye, Iwan. Only I think he might have gotten worse.” Martin watched him go with a wry grin.
Iwan laughed. “Who was the other man with him at the tower?”
“Our Captain.” Martin tied off a bandage on the young boy. “How’s that, Kieran?”
“Better, sir, thanks,” Kieran replied. “Do you think he got out with Tristan?”
“Most likely,” Liam said. “He’s not one to get caught easily.”
“But who is he?” a man named Gavin asked.
“It’ll be easier for him to explain when he gets back,” Martin said. “It’s been several years, and he’s changed a little.”
* * *
The newly appointed captain in question was running into some difficulties. They had managed to dodge one patrol by sending the horses down one track and taking another. But Tristan had slowed considerably. He stopped and leaned against a tree, breathing hard and clutching his side.
Corin helped him sit down for a moment. A dark patch stained Tristan’s ragged shirt under his hand. Corin lifted the shirt, revealing a long, ugly wound along Tristan’s ribs. Angry red welts covered his back—punishment for interfering with the boy, Corin guessed.
“We need to keep moving. You think you can make it?” Corin asked.
“I’ll try.” Tristan reached up.
Corin gripped his hand and pulled him up, putting an arm around Tristan to support him as they started off again. They hadn’t gone very far when a chilling sound rose behind them—the howling of hounds. The hunters were on the trail once more.
Corin and Tristan fled as quickly as they could as the sounds of the pursuit grew closer. Corin knew it wouldn’t be much longer until they were caught. Relentlessly, he pushed on.
A familiar cry rent the air, and Karif swooped down. Hope flared in Corin as the hawk was followed shortly by Trey.
He jumped from the saddle and ran toward them. Tristan fell into his brother’s arms.
“I’ll hold them off while you get him out of here,” Corin said as the Calorins came into view on the path behind them. Trey didn’t argue as he saw the battle light in Corin’s eyes. He turned and half carried Tristan off the track and farther into the forest.
Karif perched on Corin’s arm as he faced the oncoming soldiers. Corin drew his scimitar and prepared to fight. The two foremost soldiers were mounted. Leveling their spears, they charged. Karif launched himself in the air and flew at a horse, raking its face with his talons. The horse reared and screamed in pain as blood flowed from its nose.
Corin threw a knife at the second horse, killing it and sending its rider tumbling to the ground. The foot soldiers hesitated a moment before charging him. Yelling a war cry, Corin plunged into the battle. Karif struck from the sky, and Corin dealt deadly blows. Then it was over.
The few survivors fled and left the rest of the patrol wounded or dead. He watched them disappear, and then he cleaned and sheathed his sword. Whistling to Karif, he caught Trey’s horse and headed wearily back to camp.
A frantic rustle sent his hand to his sword, but it was only Trey that met him. Trey stared momentarily at the bloody path.
“Leave it,” Corin said. “The other patrols will find them. It will be a warning to the Calorins. Aredor is rising. This is just the beginning.”
* * *
The camp was quiet. Most of the men—having been cared for, fed, and dressed in clean clothes—had fallen asleep. Liam was bandaging Tristan’s side as he sat wearily by the fire. Trey joined his older brother as they entered the dell.
“You hurt?” Liam asked, taking in Corin’s bloodstained clothes.
“No, just tired,” Corin replied. “Where’s Martin?”
“He took Kieran out hunting. What happened with you?” Liam asked.
“He took on a whole Calorin patrol by himself, that’s what happened,” Trey said. “Eight dead. The rest fled.”
“I wasn’t completely alone. I had Karif with me.” Corin sat down wearily and leaned against a log.
“Did you train him to fight, sir?” one of the men asked.
“No, I found him when he was hurt, and he’s followed me ever since,” Corin replied.
“Corin, this is Gavin, the best forester and tracker you’ll ever find,” Liam said.
Gavin flushed slightly at the praise. “I was raised at Lynwood Keep. I know almost every inch of this forest.”
Corin leaned forward to grasp Gavin’s hand. “Well, I’m glad you’re with us.”
Liam introduced him to the older warrior, Iwan.
“Prince Corin?” Iwan recognized Corin’s name and his resemblance to the king.
Corin shook his head. He didn’t think he could ever wear that name again. “I haven’t gone by that title in years. As far as I’m concerned, my brother can keep it.”
“Fair enough, sir. Young Liam here says you have a plan?”
“Aye, but it’ll take more than twenty of us to drive the Calorins out,” Corin said. “We’ll free as many as we can and build an army in the forest. It might take years, but I won’t rest until every last Calorin is gone from these shores and my father is restored to the throne.”
Iwan’s eyes shone with a fierce light. “Give us weapons,
my lord, and every last one of us is with you to the death!”
Chapter 5
Three days later, they broke camp and left no trace that they had ever been there. Back at the cave, Trey and Martin handed out weapons. Martin picked up a large ornate war bow and quiver.
“Here, Flynn, miss these at all?” he asked.
Flynn, tall and brawny with flaming red hair, took his bow. “More than a little.” He inspected it closely and pronounced himself satisfied. Trey tossed him a long dirk, similar to the one he carried.
Martin found a lighter broadsword, which he gave to Kieran. He also gave him the smaller Calorin bow.
“I don’t think you’ll struggle as much with these,” Martin told him.
Tristan found his sword, a large two-handed broadsword that he lifted with ease. Buckling it across his back, he thrust a dirk into his belt.
Outside the cave in a large open meadow Corin and Liam had fashioned a target. Flynn was the first to shoot. Carefully stringing his bow, he laid an arrow to the string and loosed. It hit dead center. Two more followed in quick succession with the same result.
“He’s the best archer in the warband. I’ve never seen him miss,” Trey told Corin.
Flynn retrieved his arrows, and Gavin stood to shoot. Two of his arrows hit the center while the third missed by almost an inch. Grimacing in disgust, he drew his arrows from the target. And so it went on, each man firing three arrows with most hitting the target’s center and the rest going just wide. Then the warriors moved to swordplay.
Corin was satisfied with what he saw. They were well-trained warriors: solid, trustworthy, and loyal. He still had his reservations about the command that his companions had heaped upon him. He didn’t know if he was the one to lead the men. But he’d do his best until he found someone who could.
Martin joined him as he watched the men spar. “So what now, Captain?”
Corin allowed a slight smile as he leaned on his bow. A familiar grin spread across Martin’s face in answer.
“I think it’s time we planned our next raid.”
* * *
Lord Balkor was furious. Over the past month prisoners, weapons, horses, and supplies had gone missing. They would vanish into the forest without a trace. He paced the great hall of Kingscastle heaping scorn on his captains.
“Ten horses! How do ten horses disappear without leaving a hoof print?” His captains stood stoically, silent as he raged. “Just last week, five prisoners vanished, leaving only this.” He held up a grey hawk feather. “Where do you think they are going, hmm?”
One man made the mistake of shrugging.
“You idiot!” Lord Balkor screamed. “They are forming a rebellion in that blasted forest. Find them! Flood that forest and bring me those rebels and their leader in chains!”
* * *
Corin watched his opponent’s blade. It didn’t take long before he found the opening he was looking for. He lunged and gave a twist with his scimitar. His opponent’s sword flew out of his grasp. The young man groaned in frustration as he retrieved his scimitar.
“Don’t worry, Ian. You’ll get it.” Corin patted his shoulder in encouragement.
Ian sheathed the blade. “I don’t know, Captain. That’s the third time you’ve done that today.”
Corin laughed. “I’ll show you how I do it tomorrow,” he promised.
Liam and Gavin hurried toward them across the clearing. Men gathered unobtrusively as they reported to Corin.
“We went into Kingstown. Balkor’s pretty upset with the way things are going,” Liam said.
“He’s ordered his generals out with a large force in order to get rid of us,” Gavin continued.
“When?” Corin asked.
“They’re to start tomorrow,” Liam said.
Corin glanced around the clearing. Over the past month, their numbers had swelled to two score men. They had enough men for an attack. It only mattered if their small rebellion could survive it.
“We have most of today and all night to get something ready for them. Martin, Tristan, Trey, pick nine men each. Liam, you’re with me. Now here’s what we’ll do.”
Chapter 6
The young Captain Farid rode out of Kingstown at the head of three score Calorins with orders to find and crush the outlaws in Dunham Forest. They rode down the Lynwood Track. Once in the forest, they would turn south and comb the woods. As soon as the troops were out of sight, two peasants left the town. Mounting horses, they circled well around the town and galloped off cross-country to the forest. They would arrive well before the Calorins.
“They’ve taken the Lynwood Track, Captain,” Ian said. “We counted about sixty men.”
“Trey, take your group and watch where they come in then send Kieran to report,” Corin said. Trey saluted and headed off with his nine men.
Trey watched the Calorins ride slowly into the forest. They halted, and the captain ordered his men into position. Three abreast, they turned off the main road and on to a smaller path that led deeper into the forest. Trey signaled to Kieran, and the boy sped off through the forest. Halting by a pine tree riven by lightning, he gave a sharp whistle. Corin and his men stepped out.
“They turned south, Captain,” Kieran said.
“Perfect. Tell Trey to follow behind them. Martin, cover to the east. Tristan, take the other side of the path. We’ll split them three ways,” Corin ordered. “I’ll take my men and keep them coming south.”
Kieran saluted and ran off again.
* * *
The forest sheltered quiet animosity against the Calorins. Farid was nervous, unable to shake the sensation that they were being watched. The feeling grew the farther they rode into the forest. As they came around a bend in the path, Farid reined up sharply in surprise.
A dark figure, hooded and cloaked, stood in the middle of the road. As Farid stared, a grey hawk swooped down to land on the man’s shoulder.
“It’s him! The Hawk. Get him!” Farid ordered and three men spurred forward.
The figure stood motionless as they thundered toward him. Suddenly, the soldiers collapsed, pierced by arrows. A soldier behind Farid took aim, but before he could shoot, an arrow came whistling from the trees and wounded him. Farid ducked as the arrow shot by. When he straightened, the path was empty. A wolf howled somewhere to the right of the path.
“That’s them! Follow the sound,” Farid shouted.
Two dozen men rode off the path. Another howl sounded to the left. Farid sent twenty men after it. He continued cautiously down the path with the rest of his men. They soon found their path blocked by a fallen tree.
“Shields up, weapons ready!” he ordered just in time as arrows flew out of the surrounding trees. Some arrows hit several horses, sending them into a panic. Men dropped shields to control their steeds. More arrows flew. Seeing his men fall around him, Farid called a retreat.
* * *
The twenty men that had gone left from the path had picked up fresh tracks. They followed the footprints until they came to a river. They halted at the bank. A cry went up from one of the soldiers. A dark figure stood watching them from the opposite bank. A Calorin raised his bow, but his companion knocked it away
“Don’t, you’ll get us all killed!”
As they watched, the figure turned and melted into the woods.
“We can cross down here,” another soldier called. Down-stream, a large tree trunk spanned the river.
Dismounting, half the soldiers ventured cautiously out on to the rough bridge. They had almost reached the opposite bank when it collapsed beneath their feet. Arrows zipped viciously out from the bushes to add to the confusion. Finally, the soldiers were pulled out of the water by their companions.
A Calorin sent an arrow flying over the river. An answering shot sent him ducking for cover. Mocking laughter rang out as rustling in the underbrush marked the outlaws’ departure. The Calorins tried to find their tracks to return to the path, but they were gone—completely erased.
<
br /> * * *
The outlaws gathered back at their camp, exchanging stories. The Calorins that had followed Tristan’s group had decided to fight back. Aided by Trey and his men, none of the Calorins left the forest alive.
Corin pulled Martin, Trey, and Tristan aside.
“I think we should start a regular patrol. Each of us will keep the men we had today,” Corin said.
“Where exactly would we be patrolling?” Tristan asked.
Corin pulled out a rough map of the forest. “Gavin, Liam, and I worked this out. We marked three different routes, which means three patrols out and one at camp at all times. We’ll circle through, spend about a week in each position, before moving on. Watch for Calorin patrols, keep an eye on the villages nearby, and there’s always movement on the Lynwood Track.”
“So we’re generally harassing the Calorins any way we can?” Martin asked.
“Exactly,” Corin replied.
“Perfect. When do we start?” Trey asked.
“Tomorrow.”
They drew lots to see who would remain at camp first. Martin took the short straw. Tristan took his patrol by Darkan Village and Sentry Rocks. Trey took his band from the river to Lynwood Track, and Corin patrolled from the track to the border. In an effort to keep young Kieran out of the fighting, Corin made him a message runner between the patrols and camp.
Gradually, life in the forest settled into a routine: patrols going in and out regularly, engaging the Calorins, aiding the villages, and raiding supply trains in or near the forest. They were only able to free a few more men before it became too dangerous.
* * *
Lord Balkor was furious with the increasing resistance. He sent messengers back to Calorin, asking for more soldiers to “exterminate the outlaws.”
Chapter 7
A lone rider crossed the border from Braeton into Aredor. A day later, the rider came to a large village. Dismounting, the stranger led the horse into the village, ducking behind houses to out keep of sight as much as possible. Halting by a large water trough sheltered by the stables, the rider pushed back their hood, revealing the features of a young girl no more than seventeen. She wore pants, tall riding boots, and soft leather tunic. Light leather vambraces were buckled about her arms, and a rapier was belted about her waist. Keeping in the shelter of the wall, she watched the townspeople go about their daily business while trying to ignore the Calorins lounging around the market square.
The Rise of Aredor Page 17
