Warrior of the Dawn

by M. S. Brook

  I shook my head. “It would just draw their attention. I was not at Evergreen. They won’t know I’m here.”

  “Then at first opportunity, you and Rowland will escape. You must not be captured!” the captain repeated.

  “Agreed!” Rowland said. I met his fierce eyes for a moment while the captain gave orders. It occurred to me that the two men had spoken as if they had a long-standing plan, but I had no time to wonder about it.

  “Men,” the captain bellowed, “stand your ground. Remember the battle plan and hold fast.” He raised his sword. “We fight for Enfys!”

  We lifted up a battle roar and surged forward, weapons raised, kicking up clods of dry earth behind us. I scanned the field as we rode. At the far side was a tall, dark rider astride a black charger. His stillness on a field churning with activity made him stand out. Like his men, he was dressed all in black; the red crest of Worrgard on his chest was the sole color about him. I realized with a sickening thrill of fear that he was the man I must one day face. Only this wasn’t the way it was meant to happen—not unprepared like this, not outnumbered and surprised. I struggled to push down the rising flood of panic. And then my heart went wild as a wail lifted up from the Evergreen militia; they were pointing and gibbering. Across the field, Saduk’s mouth was open in a shout of laughter.

  How could he be here, waiting for us? I was supposed to be the seer, but I was as blind as anyone else.

  Our lines were clashing now. Near the back, Rowland and I swung out with one of four small wings dedicated to stopping the vithons. The keepers were holding their vithons to leash along the flanks lest they attack their own men, guiding their excitable charges toward their chosen targets. Our small wing circled two of the vithons and their keepers, cutting them off from the main company. Rowland and I harried the keepers with our arrows while spearmen dealt with the vithons.

  We took a number of vithons in this manner. As always, the Dominians relied too much on them and were surprised when their advantage was blunted, but nothing could make up for the difference in our numbers. Worse still, there was no halfhearted fighting or deserters to turn to our side. Saduk was watching from the rear. His men were far more afraid of him than of us, and we lost ground every minute. Saduk’s jaws were fast closing on us.

  It didn’t help that every time I looked up, I saw him there, sitting his horse at the bottom of the field, watching our struggle like a child might study an overturned anthill. I was too far away to discern an emotion or expression on his face, but he must have grown impatient for our end. He suddenly raised a flail and began whirling the iron ball over his head, urging his horse forward.

  “Deserters! I’m coming for you!” he roared, his deep voice rolling over the field.

  I should have remembered what conscripts did when the fight took a bad turn, but our militiamen reminded me soon enough. They watched, spellbound, as Saduk knocked the nearest Evergreen off his horse and trampled him under the hooves of his great black charger. The poor man’s screams penetrated the other sounds of battle and did just what Saduk intended. As one, the Evergreen militia gave way. They bolted for the woods exactly like the conscripts had always done, only this time it was our ranks they deserted.

  Strangely, it was the Evergreens’ act of weakness and fear that saved the rest of us. Saduk was not about to let the Evergreens get away with desertion. As the fleeing Evergreens galloped back the way we’d come, Saduk and his Bezarqs gave chase. The vithons, too, were unable to resist their escaping prey. They dragged their keepers into the hunt, leaving the Blackcoat conscripts and a few of their Bezarq officers on the field. It was the Bezarqs’ turn to be confused at the shift in numbers. We ignored the conscripts and went straight for their overlords. Out of Saduk’s view, the conscripts returned to the usual halfhearted pattern, slipping into the woods north of the field when the Bezarqs were no longer there to drive them.

  With the Evergreens scattered, there was nothing we could do to help them. The best we could do was run through the opening they’d made for us. We quickly gathered our wounded. Those too weak to make it back alone we partnered with one of their healthy comrades.

  “Captain, what about our dead?” Torin asked, his voice taut.

  “We must leave them here.”

  “Captain!”

  “There is nothing more we can do for them.”

  “But their families!”

  “If we stay here any longer, none of our families will see us.” Our men were clearly upset, but they agreed to it with sharp nods. Azar gave a quick order. “We will fall back to the Lymestone Hills as planned. They won’t expect us to go that far to the west. Split into groups of three or four and slip out through the woods. Do not seek out the enemy. Steal past him if you can. Our sole purpose now is to get as many men home as we are able.” Azar spoke a prayer for our fallen, asking the Maker to gather every song that we must leave behind. I took a last look at the abandoned field and followed Azar into the woods, Rowland fast behind me.

  Far ahead of us we heard sporadic shouting and the roars of hunting vithons. The three of us rode in single file through the shadowy woods, staying close together. We did not head back the way we’d come, but took a westward direction, aware that at any moment the hunt could turn back toward us. The lack of undergrowth in the dry forest allowed us to move swiftly and quietly, and I began to feel hopeful that we would escape. But that hope was cast down by a shrill scream of terror not far to the right of us. The scream was followed by shouting and thrashing about. Azar slowed and looked back. I nodded, and we turned to follow the sounds.

  The struggle died down, but the men’s voices were close now. We dismounted, looped our reins around a tree, and ran toward the voices, weapons to the ready. I heard someone say, “This one’s heavy. Looks like they feed you well at Evergreen.”

  “Fresh meat for the vithons tonight!” said another with an ugly laugh, and there was more thrashing about.

  I could see them now; two Blackcoats were tying a struggling Evergreen onto the back of a horse, while two other Blackcoats were binding the second Evergreen’s feet. All four looked up when I stepped on a dry branch.

  My arrow was already notched. I drew back and let fly while the closest man’s mouth was still open in surprise. The arrow caught him in the throat, and he fell back. With a roar, Rowland and Azar fell on the other three. Two of them never got their swords unsheathed, and the third was no match for Rowland and Azar together.

  I pulled my dagger and ran to free the Evergreen lying on the ground. He saw the dagger in my hand and tried to roll away, moaning with the effort.

  “Quiet! Let me cut you free. I’m not like Saduk!” I said in a low voice.

  He held still while I sawed through his tight bonds, trying not to nick his wrists or ankles in my hurry, but my hands came away bloody. “You’re wounded.”

  “Here on my thigh. I took a spear.”

  The wound was bleeding, but not pulsing. Rowland freed the other Evergreen and knelt beside me. “We’ve got to move! Azar’s gone for our horses. Is he able to ride?”

  “Rip a long bandage from that Bezarq’s cloak for me.”

  With no time for treatments, we bound his wound tight enough to stop the bleeding, and with the help of the other Evergreen, we hoisted the wounded man onto one of the Bezarq’s horses. He groaned with the effort of holding himself upright. The second Evergreen took a Bezarq mount for himself, and we rode onward, the sounds of the hunt now moving toward instead of away from us. The shadows had grown in the dim woods, and it was harder to see our way, but that hindered our pursuers also. Heading full west, we slipped away from their grasp.

  As soon as we were out of immediate danger, we stopped so I could attend to our wounded Evergreen. He’d lost more blood and seemed weaker. “I’m not sure how long he can keep going,” I said.

  “Here, put him up with me,” Azar said. We got h
im into the saddle. Azar put his arms around him to keep him from falling, and we set off again at a slower pace. Night had long fallen by the time we reached the Plevin. We crossed over and waded our tired horses along the southern edge, leaving no tracks for anyone to follow. The silvery sheen of a three-quarter moon reflected on the rippling surface of the stream, lending a false sense of peace to the quiet of the night.

  At length a Guardian scout stepped out of the shadows and directed us to our camp. I grabbed my bag and went to work on our wounded. One man’s mail had given way, and he’d taken a deep gash in his side from a spear. I gave as much of the opium drops as was safe, but he passed out when I poured distilled spirits in the wound. We pushed the flesh together and bound it tight. My mouth was dry and my song little more than a croak, but he fell into a fitful sleep. When I had a minute, I checked the Evergreen we’d rescued. He’d lost a good bit of blood, but he would be all right.

  Through the evening, small clusters of men found their way to the deep caves buried in the Lymestone Hills. We set up camp in a cavern large enough to fit all of us. It was too risky to light a fire; even in the cave the smell of smoke could escape and carry on the wind. So we lit a few lanterns deep in the cavern, drank and washed in the chill river water, and shared the food in our saddlebags. From my own experience, I knew that our flesh wounds would heal long before our hearts did. We could not have helped our fallen even if we had stayed behind, but that was no comfort to anyone. We had left our slain brothers lying on enemy ground, and every one of us felt it.

  I waited in silence at the mouth of the cave until the flow of men joining us drew to an end. Arms wrapped around my knees, I sat on the rocky ground and struggled against despair. Every sinew in my body was trembling, my muscles burning from weariness, but far worse was the voice inside my head telling me that this attack across the border had been my idea.

  Rowland came back from settling the horses. He eased down on the hard ground beside me.

  “Are you all right?” I asked him.

  “Back’s a little sore, that’s all.”

  “Here, let me get liniment from my bag.”

  “Save it for those who need it worse than I do. I have it easy, considering.”

  My eyes fell, and he said, “You couldn’t have known. No one could have.”

  No, I couldn’t have known Saduk would ambush us or that he’d have a spy in our midst. I hadn’t planned for treachery, never anticipated that a man would hide amongst the refugees at Evergreen for the sole purpose of betraying us. But he had, and I had missed it.

  “It should have worked,” Rowland said.

  “But it didn’t.” I got up abruptly. “No point in staying up any longer. If anyone else escaped, they’d be here by now.”

  He nodded. “I think I’ll stay out here a bit longer. See how the watch is doing.”

  In the shadowy light of a lantern, I made rounds among the worst of the wounded. I repeated sips of poppy tincture mixed with brandy and checked dressings.

  I pulled off my mail coat and laid it beside my helmet and saddle. Out of habit, I checked my pocket to make sure the king’s letter was tucked safely away. Remembering the letter usually encouraged me, but on this night it only served to mark my failure. This defeat had pushed us further away than ever from fulfilling his desire to unify the realm.

  Chapter 27

  No one perished through the long night, though I was awakened several times to treat those in pain. Dawn made a feeble attempt to show itself, filling the cracks in the leaden clouds with pale yellow light. I went for a wash-up in the stream. A gloomy-faced Torin was standing watch. “Any sign of Blackcoats last night?” I asked.

  “No. Apparently, Saduk did not think it worth his while to keep looking for us.”

  It was true we didn’t look like a threat to Saduk just now. Slumped shoulders and downcast eyes were as common as red tunics. Every man had lost a friend, and not only that, our pride was taken too. Royal Guardians were not accustomed to running away or leaving their dead behind.

  We had a short burst of cheer later in the morning. Our scouts found Brady and four of his men. They had made camp farther to the west and spent a terrible night fearing that they were the only survivors. They were overjoyed to find us.

  Azar decided to wait a day before heading back to Evergreen. There was no need to rush back with bad tidings. Waiting would give any other stragglers a chance to join us and our wounded another day to heal. We huddled in front of the cave and licked our wounds, watching the sun crawl across the gray sky. We all had plenty to think about. Our heavy losses would be a bitter blow to the Evergreen settlement as well as Highfield.

  My mind slipped away to memories of Arvel’s death and the grief that followed. I recognized the struggle on my companions’ faces, the self-blame, the questions, the grieving, the anger. I had no answer for them, but I had learned something from my own days of grief. In spite of the pain I was feeling, I knew it would get better, and I knew we would not quit. I pulled on that strength, using it to raise my spirits and to speak hope to the men as I sang over their wounds.

  We ate our evening meal of dried meat and oatcakes. Afterward, the captain stood and addressed us. “We have had a terrible defeat,” Azar said. “Nothing I can say will change that. But we can, and will, honor those Guardians and Evergreens who gave their lives yesterday.” Azar laid his hand over his heart. “We salute our brave brothers in arms. They will forever live in our memories. We will tell our children and our grandchildren about the sacrifice they made, and we will always be grateful.” Azar’s hand dropped to his side, his blue eyes scanning our company. “But we must also honor our fallen by looking to the future, for this is not the end of the story. There will be another day, and there will be another ending. One day, Saduk will be sorry his war bands ever crossed this river. We will make him pay for all that he has stolen from us. On that day, every sacrifice, every loss, every pain suffered will be worth it.”

  Azar’s speech helped a little, but we had another chill evening without a fire ahead of us, followed by a long night on the unforgiving cave floor. This time I wasn’t tired enough for sleep to take me away from my thoughts. Judging by the unsettled noises around me, I wasn’t the only one. I got up twice to make rounds among the wounded, offering what comfort I could give for their pains.

  Under cover of early morning darkness, we left our rocky caves and began our journey back to Evergreen. It was good to get moving again. The green meadows and forests we crossed into were like a balm to our spirits after the arid misery of Domaine, but the clear blue skies were a contrast to the tumult of my heart. We’d had the rare opportunity of facing Saduk, but we’d not been ready for it. We were outwitted, beaten, and fortunate to be alive. I was furious at my own lack of insight that had allowed us to be drawn into a trap. The cost had been paid with men’s lives. After such a failure, would the council let us cross the border again? And if not, how could we find the king?

  We made camp for the evening, and after we’d brushed our horses and started our cooking fires, Rowland pulled me aside. “You’ve been very quiet today.”

  “I haven’t felt much like talking.”

  “I just want to make sure you’re all right. You have a way of blaming yourself for things that aren’t your fault.”

  I shook my head. “What is the sight for if I can’t prevent things like this from happening? I’m not sure I’m doing any good with it. In fact, I might be making things worse.”

  Rowland sighed. “I’m not the right person to answer your questions, but I do know this—you are not to blame for this defeat.”

  “I don’t know. I grew up hearing stories about Queen Nerys and how her sight saved Ashling Keep from invasion. Why doesn’t it work out that way for me? I get people killed instead!”

  I turned to walk away, and Rowland grabbed my arm. “Don’t say that! We all thought we
had a good plan, including my father. Look, you’re just getting started with this. Think what your warrior skills would be like if Mister Lionel had not trained you. Have you considered that you might need a trainer to help you learn how to use your seer gift?”

  Rowland let go of my arm. “Why don’t you talk to Lady Orabella when we get back to Evergreen? She’s had a lifetime of experience. I’ll wager she can help you sort it out.”

  “All right. I’ll speak to her when we get back.”

  “Good. Meanwhile, as your champion and as your friend, I’m asking you to put this aside for now. It won’t help to stew over it the whole way to Evergreen.”

  “Easier said…”

  Rowland’s gaze was unwavering. “I know you well enough by now to know that you will do whatever you put your mind to.”

  As soon as we reached Evergreen, Azar and I met with the elders in the River Hall. Sitting with them at one of the tables, Azar told the story of our terrible losses and the spy who had wormed his way into the settlement. I felt the back of my neck sweat as he chose his words, careful not to criticize the militia for running from Saduk.

  Elder Jaron was the first to speak. “How can we trust anyone if Saduk can place spies here in our midst?”

  Orabella shook her head. “Everything we have is open to him—our defenses and plans, our habits, weaknesses…”

  “Worse,” said Captain Zerikon. “Our militia ran. He knows we are still afraid of him.”

  “But at the time, we were in Saduk’s grasp,” I said.

  “Saduk believes all of Evergreen is in his grasp,” said Captain Zerikon. “He wanted to remind us that he always punishes deserters. It’s why the militia ran from him. They knew what was coming. I know it must be hard for you to understand—”