Warrior of the Dawn

by M. S. Brook

  The keeper threw his head back and laughed.

  “What is your name, keeper?” Azar asked.

  The chin braids jutted forward. “Who wants to know?”

  “I will ask the questions today. Tell me, why did you set vithons on your own men?”

  He snorted. “I was enforcing His Lordship’s will. There is no surrender for Dominians. Deserters are meat for the vithons. Every conscript knows this.”

  “Why did you come to Canwyrrie?” Azar asked. “Why don’t you let us alone?”

  “If I see a ripe peach, would I not pluck it?” He sneered in my direction. “I had heard that you sent out a woman to fight the great warriors of Domaine, but I scarce believed it. Is this the best you can do? Where are your strong men?” He rolled his eyes. “Oh, that’s right. I’m forgetting. You have a king, don’t you? But where is he? Why does he not fight for you? Fools! Open your eyes! Your king couldn’t save the Northlands. He couldn’t save his own father’s line. And you can be sure he can’t save you.”

  I felt my hands tighten into fists. “Where is he, then? Seeing you know so much.”

  “Oh, don’t you know?” His voice dripped with malice. “Your precious king is fallen captive. My Lord Saduk has taken him.”

  “If you have him, then where is he?”

  The keeper was silent.

  “Ah, I see. Your lord didn’t trust you with that knowledge, did he?”

  The keeper bared his teeth and lunged at me, dragging his guards with him. The two men grabbed hold of his arms and slammed him back into his chair. The guard raised his hand to strike him again, but I stopped him. “Wait! Let’s hear his answer. I don’t think he knows where the king is.”

  The keeper ignored me, addressing Azar. “You can play at war all you like, but you will never stop the fire of Worrgard. Lord Saduk will have what he wills, and you will not have the strength to resist him. Even now he lays his plans. He will cut the heart out of Canwyrrie, and your puny fortress at Highfield will fall. The last of the line of Enfys will be blotted from memory, and he will take the greatest prize of all. Mark my words—this whole realm will soon tremble at Lord Saduk’s feet!”

  With that, he clamped his mouth shut and would say no more though Azar shot query after query at him.

  “Very well,” Azar said. “I will leave you to the elders of Evergreen—those who have left everything to escape your lord’s sovereignty. They will deal with you as they think best.”

  The keeper snarled through clenched teeth. “Honor in death!”

  “We’re finished with him,” Azar said to the guards, and the two of us walked out.

  I felt drained and shaky though I tried not to show it. “That was like facing a vithon at close quarters,” I said when Azar had closed the door behind us.

  “Did you see anything?”

  “No more than I could see through a rock. He won’t be broken. I’ll leave the other one to you.”

  The pine-needle bed in my old lean-to was waiting for me, but I didn’t feel ready to settle in for the night. I walked down to Tal’s paddock by the river. He had taken in our horses and was busy making them feel at home. Morningstar’s coat was like polished gold, his creamy mane and tail were neatly brushed, hoofs burnished clean. I was almost jealous at the way Morningstar made up to Tal, blowing on his neck and nudging his shoulder. “He looks wonderful, Tal. Thank you.”

  “Anything for you, lady!”

  Twilight was falling, and the fires at our old lean-to village were burning, the smell of pine smoke scenting the air. I continued my walk to the river, listening to the rushing water, tinted pink with the lowering sun. I fancied, for a moment, that the river was singing—of the mountains where it was born and the lands it had passed through on its swift journey to the sea. The crickets and flitting swallows added their song, urging the waters along their way.

  If what both Colm and the vithon keeper had said about the king was true, Saduk was holding my father somewhere on the other side of this river. To find the king, I would have to face his greatest enemy. I watched until the last traces of color deserted the water, then headed back to the cheerful fires among the lean-to shelters.

  Evergreen was unsure of what to do with the conscripts, but Orabella and Colm were able to smooth over their fears. The conscripts were so grateful for good food and kind treatment that they were quick to renounce Saduk and swear loyalty to Evergreen. Our patrol stayed long enough to see the conscripts working in the fields and helping with the ongoing building works before we went back to patrol the region south of Evergreen. All was peaceful for a time—until the Blackcoats put the torch to Oxfield. The snug little village, built by gentle farmer folk, was burned to the ground. We learned of it when we met survivors fleeing to Evergreen. With its militia and Guardian presence, Evergreen was now the safest refuge in Northern Canwyrrie.

  Our patrol escorted the villagers to Evergreen and then turned south to Oxfield. We rode up and down the burned rows of cottages, past the charred hall where our patrols used to stop for a hot meal, and I felt the rage build in my chest. A whole village. And it wasn’t Dominian refugees who were attacked this time. It was Canwyrs, born and bred, those who had a right to expect our sovereign protection. Yet we had failed them. I could not let it stand. The king would not have it so.

  “We have to punish them,” I said to Azar. “We can’t let this go unanswered.”

  “I’ve been thinking on it,” Azar said. “You and Rowland must ride to Highfield to inform the council. Torin and ten men will go with you. You’ll have time to work out your ‘answer’ on the way.”

  “Any meaningful answer will have to be delivered on the other side of the river. Do you think Captain Zerikon would reinforce us with militia?”

  “I will ask him and support whatever you work out at Highfield. Then ride back to Evergreen. We will meet there.”

  Our small company rode hard for Highfield, arriving on the afternoon of the fourth day. Rowland and I went straight to Lord Kempton. After brief greetings, we told him about Oxfield.

  “This is ill tidings indeed,” Lord Kempton said. “I will meet with the council at once. Saduk has gone too far this time.”

  “We need to find a way to make him pay,” I said. “Nothing touches him. He sits behind his walls and sends war bands to do his wicked work for him. And even they won’t fight with us unless we manage to corner them. They’re too busy killing farmers and shepherds—and now they’re burning villages.”

  “I agree, but some on the council are hesitant to engage in open war. They fear taking our men from their families and fields. They’d rather believe that our patrols can handle a few raiders now and again. Saduk is aware of this and runs free.”

  “At some point we will have to answer him, and the longer we wait, the louder our answer will have to be.”

  “I will put it to the council that way. That if we make a swift, decisive response now, perhaps it will set Domaine back and we will have peace for a while. That is language the hesitant ones can swallow. It won’t be enough, but it will put us a few steps forward.”

  Rowland had been watching our exchange with something like surprise in his eyes. “The two of you have your heads together like old war comrades.”

  Lord Kempton frowned. “Aidriana has a great deal of insight into these matters. You would do well to learn from her, young man.”

  Rowland shook his head and grinned. “I agree completely, Father. I’m learning every day.”

  Lord Kempton cleared his throat. “Have you given any thought to a response?” he asked me.

  Rowland was still grinning, and I made it a point to say, “Rowland and I worked this out on our journey here. What if we took heavy reinforcements and pursued a war band across the border? If you could spare us a few extra Guardians, I believe the Evergreen militia would supply men as well. Uncle Fergal sent a smal
l party across last year, and there wasn’t much to worry about on the other side, just a few poor farmers who won’t interfere. We could crush the war band in front of witnesses and then shoot back across before they can get help.”

  “It’s a solid plan. And you think Evergreen would be willing?”

  “They aren’t surrounded by stone walls like you are here. I believe they’ll be happy to discourage Saduk in any way they can.”

  “I’ll take it to council straight away. You hurry off and see your family. Rowland, your mother will want to see you before you do anything else.”

  “Yes, sir.” Rowland closed the council room door and said softly, “I believe that went well.”

  “I hope he’s successful with the council.”

  “I don’t doubt he will be. He has a good sense for these things.” Rowland’s forehead wrinkled. “I guess I haven’t spent much time with him these last years, but he seems to hold you in a new regard. When did that happen?”

  “Oh, it’s been coming on gradually. Big improvement, isn’t it?”

  “I’d say so. Very big.”

  We left in the morning with reinforcements and new orders from the council. The journey back was a blur of weary hours in the saddle that left too much time for thinking. The mood at Highfield had seemed different. I’d only been there a day, but I found little to remind me of the easier, happier days of my childhood when we sat for hours in the Kings Hall, chatting and laughing together. All the talk was of Domaine now, and there was little reason to be merry. Rowland said I was remembering from a child’s view, but I wasn’t sure.

  We finally reached the last leg of our journey to Evergreen, hoping to make it before night fell. My stomach was rumbling, my legs stiff and sore, but we pushed on, not wanting to waste precious daylight to stop and rest.

  I sighed and twisted from side to side in my saddle, trying to loosen my back. Torin, who seemed to know every rock and tree along the road, was riding ahead of me. I called to him. “We must be close. What do you reckon?”

  “Not above an hour. We’ll be there by evenfest.”

  It wasn’t home, but the thought of evenfest at Evergreen was comforting. The militia and some of their families had adopted our custom of eating the evening meal together, and I knew we’d be welcome to eat with them. I was ready for a meal that hadn’t been riding on the back of a packhorse. “I think I can just about make it for another hour,” I said under my breath.

  “I sure hope so,” Rowland said. “As your champion, I’d have to carry you if you weren’t able.”

  “I don’t think that will be required. Thank you anyway.”

  He grinned. “Just as well. I’m a little worn myself.”

  I pretended surprise. “What? I didn’t think you ever got tired!”

  The afternoon was fading, and we were nearly through the hills south of the river valley. I kept turning our plan around in my mind, looking at it from every side. The part I liked most was that we’d have the element of surprise. After years of staying on our side, the Blackcoats would never expect that we would follow them into Domaine. I wondered how Azar had got on with the elders at Evergreen. Orabella Stonedale was a sure ally for us. She was the first woman ever to serve as an elder, a sign that Evergreen was changing. As well, the settlement was growing in numbers. Word had gotten back to Domaine that deserting conscripts were welcome there, and new refugees crossed the border to join the settlement almost every day.

  I saw Rowland glance my way several times. “You’re worried about something,” he said.

  “Just tired. I could sleep for a week.”

  Azar met us as we rode into Evergreen. “It’s good you’re back. We just got word of a war band west of here. We can be off at daybreak if the council approved of us crossing over.”

  I groaned. “We have the approval, but I was hoping for a day’s rest at least.”

  “You’ve got this evening. Tal will be pleased take care of Morningstar for you, and there’s meat and bread in the hall—that’s all I can do for you.”

  I told Azar about our meeting with Lord Kempton and his response to our plan.

  “The elders will be for it,” Azar said. “They’ve already promised sixty men. All the conscripts we brought here are serving in the militia now, along with some who have deserted since then. In fact, there’s been a bit of an uproar. We meant to keep our plans quiet, but apparently it was too good to keep secret. Everyone seems to know that we’re going. It’s been good for spirits, though. Evergreen is ready to stand up.”

  At the first pink of dawn, our reinforced company headed west, northwest. We picked up the war band’s trail and let our scouts go ahead so we wouldn’t come upon the war band before they crossed the river. We camped one night and joined our scouts shy of the Plevin before noon the next day.

  “They forded a matter of hours ago, Captain,” Connor reported. “They weren’t in much of a hurry.”

  “What is their strength?” asked Azar.

  “Just forty-three men, sir. No sign of vithons. We’ll make short work of following them. They won’t cover their tracks on the other side.”

  I ignored a pinprick of uneasiness. Our pursuit had ended this way a hundred times before, but this story would have a different ending.

  “This is what we’ve waited for,” Captain Azar said to our eager company. “Take a few minutes to eat and fill your extra water skins before we cross over. Give the horses plenty of time to drink.”

  Each of us took our own supply of dried meat and barley cakes, and we sent the packhorses home. We waded into the broad expanse of the Plevin, up to Morningstar’s neck, and then I felt him lose touch with the bottom and begin to swim with powerful thrusts of his legs. His hooves reached the stony bottom on the Dominian side, and we clambered up onto the bank of the enemy’s territory.

  Connor and his scouts went ahead again, but the greenest regular could have read the hoof prints in the dry soil. As Connor had predicted, the war band made no attempt to cover their tracks, never thinking they might be followed on home ground.

  We’d not gone a hundred paces from the river before I felt I was in a strange place. The very air tasted dead on this side, reminding me of the dusty, seldom-opened garret above my loft at home. The grass changed from the green of the riverbank to the color of deerskin, and the ground turned hard, opening in giant cracks beneath the horses’ hooves. Even the wooded land we passed into was unnaturally quiet, with few of the bird calls and small animal rustlings normal in a living forest. Only in their absence did I realize how comforting those sounds were.

  An unusual soberness settled over the men, the eerie stillness growing as we forged deeper into Domain. The sharp prick of uneasiness was with me constantly now. When I closed my eyes, I could almost feel a dark presence hovering over the land, like a bad dream I couldn’t quite remember. My mind ran to anxious thoughts. I fancied that I heard a far-away echo…like the sound of cackling laughter. It was a cool day, but I felt the sweat trickle off the back of my neck and run down my spine.

  I forced my eyes open and glanced at Rowland. Born and bred a warrior, his armor, his horse, and every piece of his kit were burnished and orderly. One sturdy hand gripped his reins, the other, resting on his thigh, was ready to catch up sword or bow. From his broad shoulders to the flaming red hair and beard, Rowland was a solid, familiar presence, and I suddenly realized how grateful I was that he was riding beside me.

  “I’ll be happy to finish this and get back across the border,” I said to him in a quiet voice.

  His face was grim, “I couldn’t agree more—can’t say I’ve found anything to like about this place.”

  Deeper into Domaine, the ground became increasingly hilly, covered in endless forest, but without the thick undergrowth and moist, rich smell we knew from home. We rode through a bald clearing that had seen fire some time ago. Charred tree b
oles spoke of greener days, but no new seedlings poked their heads above the dust. Everywhere, the ground was burnt and dead, crunching underfoot.

  We rode on until Connor came back to report. “Captain! We’ve spotted them just ahead.”

  “Situation?”

  “They’ve stopped for the night in a broad valley. My Evergreen guide says it’s called Dorinvaal. A small river runs through it, and on each side are forested hills. The river is dammed up, and they’ve set up camp by the pool—started their cooking fires already.”

  “Mm, I smell it. Wind’s blowing our way,” Azar said. “Any sign of sentries?”

  “Not a one, Captain.” Connor snorted, not bothering to hide his opinion. “They have no idea we’re here.”

  “Very well. It’s all according to plan. Is everyone ready?” Firm nods and steely eyes signaled their agreement.

  We rode, undiscovered, to the top of a small rise overlooking the camp. I suddenly noticed what we had missed in our hurry to attack. The Blackcoats’ horses were grazing by the pool, but they were not unsaddled for the night. The Blackcoats looked up at our approach and scrambled to mount, but not with the panic of men caught without warning. I sucked in a quick breath. One of the men drew my eye. He was a heavy man for a Dominian, and his profile seemed familiar. The man turned to look over his shoulder. With a start, I recognized him as one of the deserters who had taken refuge in Evergreen some months ago. His presence could only mean one thing.

  “We are betrayed!” I snapped to Captain Azar. “There was a spy at Evergreen. They knew we were coming.”

  Azar nodded. He’d seen it also, but we were too late. Swarms of Blackcoats were boiling out of the nearby forest, and behind them, vithons straining at their leashes. My breath caught in my ribs; a voice inside my head was screaming for me to turn and bolt. I forced myself to take slow breaths. Our easy victory had turned into a trap, and we had only moments to form a plan.

  “If we run,” the captain said, “they will pursue from behind, leaving us no defense. But you,” he said to me, “must flee this moment. We will cover for you. You must not be taken.”