by Guy Antibes
“Anchor? Where have you been? The alliance forces have taken over Everwet. Princess Sallia is here. Did you know she was the princess of the Red Kingdom? Is your friend from Roppon? Where are your horses? My son will take care of them.”
Anchor laughed and put up his hands to stop the innkeeper. “I’ll answer your questions one at a time. Remember the two colonels that took me away? I went to South Keep on the eastern edge of Gensler. Took command of the keep and now I’m with Shiro’s forces,” he nodded towards the Ropponi, “in Learsea. I got here by magical means and decided to whet my whistle before I go to the border keep and report.” He took a deep draft of the inn’s ale. It tasted just as good as he remembered when recuperating from his shoulder wound. At least that had healed perfectly, although, at the time, he never thought it would.
“Report, eh? We’ve had soldiers moving though Everwet ever since you left. They say there’s more to come.”
“I hope so,” Anchor said. He slapped Shiro’s shoulder with the back of his hand. “Drink up, my friend. It’s time to hobnob with the rich and noble.”
The walk to the keep took more than a few minutes. Shiro asked if Anchor wanted to transport from the inn to the keep, but Anchor wanted to walk and think of his approach to Shiro’s posited problem.
After a brief encounter with the guards keeping village riff raff from the keep, Anchor suggested that Shiro transport himself a few paces past the gate. It was enough to let him through. He let Shiro seek out Chika. Anchor strolled through grounds filled with Gensleran soldiers.
He walked into the keep. The building was a little smaller than South Keep, but the layout seemed identical. He walked along a corridor lined with office doors on one side.
“Anchor?” Sallia’s voice. It took his breath away. Anchor shook his head. It just wasn’t right thinking of Sallia that way.
“Princess?” He took a few steps backward and saw her silhouetted against the window. Bright light made him squint as his eyes adjusted from the dark corridor. “You are here?”
She laughed. “Evidently, I am. Have you something for me?”
My heart? Anchor thought and then immediately stifled the thought. He took the letter from within his tunic. “Your answers, your highness. I hope they aren’t too simple for your needs.”
She smiled. “You don’t know how simple my needs are.” She set the letter down on the windowsill without opening it. “What brings you to Everwet? We met here.”
Anchor returned her smile. “Indeed. Shiro and I had a drink at the inn before we arrived at the keep.”
“That’s a long walk for a drink.”
Anchor shrugged. “We transported from Learsea to the inn and then walked here. Not so far one way.”
“Always a strategist.”
“I had a notion that Histron might not choose to invade Learsea and turn left towards southern Gensler instead. I wanted to let the council know.”
“You are part of the council.”
Anchor shook his head. “Not really. I’m out preparing defenses for Learsea, but I’m glad you feel I’m part of the leadership.”
“You are. Have you ever met Mander Hart?”
Unca had, but Anchor hadn’t. “He is here in Gensler?”
Sallia nodded with some excitement. “We need his mind on our council, since you are out preparing defenses for Learsea.” She mimicked Anchor’s voice. Where did this pleasant nature come from? Certainly not from the haughty princess he pulled from Foxhome. “Come, I’ll take you to him.”
Anchor hadn’t talked to Mander Hart since this whole mess had begun. He remembered a conversation he had with the man some years ago, when he arrived unannounced at Foxhome with suspicions of Daryaku’s intentions towards Besseth. Oh, how he’d been right.
She pushed a door open to a map room, much smaller than the one in South Keep. The windows faced north onto river rapids that produced the mist that gave Everwet its name. Mander Hart turned around and looked at him blankly. He didn’t recognize a very young Unca. When Unca looked as young as he did now, Mander Hart was being bounced on his father’s knee.
“May I present Marshal Anchor? This is Mander Hart of Valetan,” Sallia said.
Mander Hart took Anchor’s hand. “It’s quite an honor to meet you, introduced by such an exalted personage.” He winked at Sallia and sized up Anchor. Mander never let royalty of any kind intimidate him.
“And an honor to meet you. Lotto has talked a bit about you,” Anchor said, quite lamely.
“Am I not a legend in Foxhome?” Mander played at being shocked, placing an open hand on this chest.
Anchor smiled. Mander gave Anchor an opening. “Where I live,” at my holding near Sally’s Corners, he thought, “you are unknown. I am sorry. But that means nothing. Where I come from, they don’t even recognize me if I stroll into town.”
“But you do look familiar.” Mander put his hand to his chin. “Well, why are you here? Shouldn’t you be pacing the border wilds of Learsea?”
“Our forces guard a long swath of the pathway to Learsea’s capital and that is why I’m here.”
Duke Jellas walked into the room accompanied by Lotto and Princess Restella. Anchor didn’t miss the quick glare at Sallia by Restella.
“Anchor, or should I say Marshal Anchor?”
“Anchor works as well as any.” Anchor had to grip the pommel of his sword. He would have to keep from rising to the repartee of the nobility. He enjoyed the bantering and missed it, but a typical Unca performance would expose him. “Do you have the council here?”
“I’ll send a guard for Prince Peeron. Lessa is on his way to us from Prola via Histo.”
“A little pacification work?” Anchor said, knowing the answer.
“Indeed.”
The prince entered the room. Anchor gave him a deeper bow than the man deserved. “Prince.”
“Ah. I hear my father has named you Marshal. How condescending of him.”
Duke Jellas cleared his throat as he usually did to get attention. “Anchor, we are assembled.”
Anchor shuffled the maps on the table and pulled one out that showed the southern border of Gensler.
“Shiro shared the thought that Histron might be using his mustering of forces at the Learsea border as a feint and head along the border keeps,” Anchor ran his finger along the border poking it at the little crenelated symbols that stood for a fort. “I wouldn’t call it a certainty by any means, but it is an option for him that we need to prepare for. He could attack here, here and here.” Anchor poked the map and paused to let his words sink in. “He likely knows you are gathered in Everwet. I would if I were he.” He noticed Mander Hart nodding. “You don’t have anything currently in the way of him coming north along the southern road and attacking Everwet from the southeast.”
The duke cleared his throat, but he didn’t do it for attention. The others looked at each other.
Lotto walked up to the table and gazed at the map. “We are exposed.”
The Prince scoffed. “You are to mind to my father’s business, Marshal.” He twisted the way he pronounced Marshal as a curse. “I’ll not have you leave Learsea under any circumstances.”
Anchor took a breath to calm his anger. “Have you heard me say such a thing?”
“Your Highness. Call me Highness.”
The room became silent. Anchor scratched his head and examined his fingernails and then he said. “Your Highness.” He gave the prince a little bow. He was so glad Peeron lived here. He seriously doubted that the prince would last long among his troops. He amended that in his mind… to last long in his presence. “I come to warn and to counsel.” Anchor bowed his head towards the Duke and Sallia. He couldn’t calm his anger enough. “I am commissioned by your father and not you, your Highness. Your father has given me a great deal of leeway in prosecuting a Learsea defense.”
The prince grunted and turned on his heel, leaving the room. The atmosphere lightened. The others exhaled except for Restella, who
followed the prince out with her eyes. Anchor noticed her looking at him with some suspicion on her face. She’d get to know him well enough.
He continued after taking a breath to collect his emotions. “I propose to station a small contingent of the Red Rose at South Keep. If Histron’s troops move west, a Ropponi will teleport here and warn you. Even a forced march will take over ten days to reach here. I suggest increasing the staffing at the border keeps in addition to a much larger force at South Keep. If they don’t stop to take a Keep, then soldiers there can harry Histron’s flank all the way into Gensler. That should be enough to discourage him.”
“What if he isn’t discouraged?” Restella said.
Anchor looked towards the door where Peeron stalked out. “Then I will move substantially more troops out of Learsea. We can transport enough to perform a flanking maneuver if we maintain sufficient horses at the border or at South Keep. I’m not convinced that Red Kingdom forces will be feinting. Duke Histron needs Learsea if he hopes to hold Besseth. It might be wise to billet the army across the border keeps anyway. Everwet can’t hold all of your forces.”
Lotto looked at the map. “He could just as easily wheel north through Oringia and into Valetan.”
Restella finally became positively engaged. “Not a problem. We have sufficient troops in Oringia to stop Histron. It’s been done before, because we have the River Fargo as a barrier. They could build boats, but that takes time.
Mander Hart raised his hand. “Thank you, Anchor. Histron has a number of alternatives to make mischief. We have a number of ways to thwart him. Might I suggest that your Red Rose contingent journey to trigger points so we can tell where Histron’s forces might move. I was told they need to have been where they transport to. I am right in that you have to have been where you wish to go?” He looked at Shiro, who had just walked into the room with Chika.
“That is correct, unless I have seen the location with the Sunstone in the mind of one who has seen the location. I can take some of my Red Rose to various places where I have been. I’ll also have a few of them journey to the borders of Oringia and Happly south of the River Fargo. I have a few within my contingent who can do so. We have all been to Happly and the surroundings, so Oringians or Histron soldiers can’t use Happly without us finding out.”
Morio spoke up. “I can station rangers with birds in the forest and further out into the northern part of the Red Kingdom to let us know as well. Birds aren’t as fast as teleporting, but we can cover more territory than a man or woman flitting about the countryside.”
Anchor smiled as the council continued to add solutions to the strategy. After the session ended, all he had to do was protect and monitor the Learsea border. He wanted to do that anyway with Oringia as belligerent as they were. Wouldn’t the Peeron be pleased? Anchor dreaded seeking him out to let him know of the strategy, but he would have to. In a way, Anchor was a subject of King Willom and he couldn’t avoid his duty to Learsea.
Sallia put her arm through Anchor’s as he left the map room. Her gesture lightened his mood. “There’s no room to spend the night in the keep,” she said.
“There are still some hours left to the day. Shiro and I can see if there are any rooms at the inn or we can teleport back to Learsea.” Anchor saw Shiro walking with Chika. The Ropponi woman playfully pushed him away and then walked close beside him. “Maybe I will stay at the inn.”
Sallia laughed. “That would be an excellent idea. The rooms at the inn are better than what we have to put up with here.”
Anchor wanted to continue their conversation, but he had to face the prince. “Can you take me to Prince Peeron’s quarters?”
“I will if you let me send a man to secure a room at the inn.”
“You have my permission, Sally.” Anchor held his breath and felt his face burn. “I’m sorry, Princess Sallia. You once told me I could address you by your first name.”
“I thought you called me Sally.” She looked at him with her eyes playfully narrowed.
“I must have misspoke, Sallia.” He hoped that ended her challenge.
“You can call me Sally, if you want. Lotto does occasionally. That’s what I went by when I lived at Unca’s holding and when I went into Sally’s Corners. I have to laugh because when I take over the throne, it will be my land and my Corners.” Her eyes lost a bit of focus. Anchor wondered what thoughts currently ran through her head. He breathed easier.
“Here are the Prince’s quarters. He always insists on a guard.” She turned to the guard who had already snapped to attention. “Is the prince in?”
“He took his weapons and is on the practice field.” The guard looked straight ahead.
Anchor smiled. Perhaps the prince would like a partner. It wouldn’t be the first time Anchor communicated with his sword in a sparring match.
Sallia still held onto his arm when they stepped out into the misty afternoon. The sun rarely shone in this village. He could see the prince standing on the practice field. Anchor walked up.
“Your highness. I would like to discuss what the council decided after you left. You will be pleased with the outcome.”
“I doubt it,” the prince said, his lips curled in a sneer. “I don’t suppose you would want to show me your prowess with a sword?”
“I’d rather look forward to it,” Anchor said.
~
Sallia didn’t like the look on Prince Peeron’s face. From her point of view, it looked like the prince wanted to hurt Anchor in the worst way. She knew that Anchor’s sword skills had improved, but all she could remember were his clumsy attempts in the inn. She realized that it had been nearly a year and a half ago.
“Sparring swords, your Highness? I wouldn’t want to be sliced open while still on commission by your father.”
“It matters not. I’ll thrash you and blood you either way,” the prince said.
The prince had no respect for Anchor and she didn’t see any fear in Anchor’s eyes. He pulled off his tunic to reveal a rather handsome set of muscles. Sallia wouldn’t consider Anchor muscle bound, but he looked fit and trim. She noticed his shoulders bore scars. One of them would be from his defense of her in this very town. Anchor pulled a red silk scarf from a tunic pocket and wrapped it around the upper part of his sword arm. Sallia’s token. She smiled at Anchor and he gave her a very courtly bow. Where did Anchor learn to do that so well?
“Not much padding, Marshal Anchor.” The prince still wore a padded jerkin and made no move to take it off. The sun broke out from the mist and lit up the red hair of the Prince. “Even the sun shines on me. I’m a lucky noble. What are you, I wonder? A Red Kingdom mongrel?”
Anchor seemed unaffected by Peeron’s taunts. Sallia would have run him through by now. She felt her cheeks heating up as she clenched her fists fearing for Anchor’s defeat.
The prince continued to throw insults at Anchor. They began to bore Sallia as Anchor circled the prince. He stayed silent, but kept his eyes on Peeron. She could see that Anchor’s expression hadn’t changed as he looked at Peeron. She couldn’t help but smile as she could just imagine what kind of fanciful slurs he threw back at the prince with his eyes. They nearly twinkled. Where had she seen that twinkle before? At court? Perhaps Anchor was actually the son of one of her father’s advisors. Which one would it be? Sallia’s thoughts stopped immediately as Anchor raised his sword to his forehead and swept it down in a salute to the prince.
For all of Peeron’s taunts, Anchor just waited until the prince was ready to begin. What had the prince been thinking as he prowled around the sparring ring cursing at his opponent?
Anchor didn’t move and that halted Peeron’s circuit. Peeron yelled and proceeded to attack Anchor. The prince’s slashes and thrusts were furiously executed. Sallia, no stranger to duels, could see the skill behind the attack. Peeron had been schooled well. Perhaps by the best that Learsea offered. Lotto and Restella walked up beside her.
“I wondered if it would come to this. I’m sort of
happy it did,” Lotto said. “Shiro said that Anchor has worked hard to become good with a blade.”
Sallia didn’t know how proficient Shiro fought with a sword, but Anchor met every attack the prince made with a casual aplomb. It almost seemed like he toyed with the man. The prince was fast, but Anchor never missed a parry.
The match took on a different tone.
“Ah, Anchor is ready to read Peeron’s technique. He’s had some good teachers,” Lotto said.
Restella’s eyes brightened. “I do believe you are correct, my dear.”
The expression of endearment caught Sallia off guard. Was Restella sending her a message, here during this exciting match? She turned her attention back to Anchor.
He stepped back from Peeron and looked right at Sallia. He gave her a smile and saluted her as he had done to Peeron to start their match.
Anchor stepped aside as Peeron lunged. He gripped the prince’s wrist, immobilizing Peeron’s sword and brought Peeron’s wrist over his head and ducked under it. Peeron had no alternative but to follow his opponent’s lead as if they danced. Anchor then whipped Peeron’s arm and threw Peeron to the ground. He stood above the Prince with his sparring sword against the prince’s throat and his foot on Peeron’s sword.
“Do you yield, my Prince?” Anchor said.
Sallia stood stunned by the performance. Who was this man? He toyed with Peeron and then the match was over in a moment, an eye blink.
“I yield,” the prince said. The arrogance had fled.
Anchor looked into the assembled crowd and winked at Shiro or Chika. They stood so close, Sallia would never be able to tell. But now she knew where Anchor learned the move. The Ropponi. She had never seen a Ropponi fight, but that must have been their style.
The prince let Anchor help him to his feet, but then pushed him away. “You cheat. I’ve never seen such a thing.”
Anchor looked over at the soldiers, still wearing their sparring jerkins. “Fair?”
They all twisted their heads in agreement. One of them said, “Sparring ground is for soldiers. Any way to win except kicking one’s private parts is fair. We train for war.” Sallia thought he might be the keep’s sword master.
