Warrior of the Dawn

by M. S. Brook

  “Let’s hope it ends that way too,” I said, stopping to search his face.

  “Oh, I believe it will. I have a good feeling about it.” The light from the lantern glowed in his eyes, and I felt my breath catch. He released my arm, and we walked on in companionable silence until we reached the Guardian campfires.

  Chapter 34

  The song was my first waking thought, the children my second. I had breakfast with them and we sent them on their way with extra food stuffed in their pockets.

  “Just look at them,” Nieve said, “they were so happy yesterday.”

  We watched the children slink away, heads down, not even talking to each other. “We had to do it,” I said.

  “I know, but did you see their faces drop when we told them?”

  I went back to my place at the head of the line, leaving the minstrels to Nieve’s care, but I was no less attentive to the sound they were making. We marched through forested land and then broke into patches of farmland, hinting of a large village to come. Again there were country folk along the road waiting for us. After we passed the village, one of the officers rode up from the rear to speak with the constables. He reported that a growing group of Dominians were following behind us. The children were back, but they were joined by people of all ages.

  Contrary to what we had expected, it appeared that the Dominians were in some measure joining us, at first a few, and then hundreds, following in an orderly line behind us. They did not approach or speak to us, and in their dark clothing and quiet demeanor, they reminded me of shadows drawn to the brilliance of the sun.

  It was beautiful to see them respond to the song, but I felt a stab of fear when I thought of what Saduk would do to them. “We’ve got to turn them away,” I said to Constable Carlin at the end of the day. “It’ll be like target practice in a sheep pen when Saduk finds they’re with us.”

  “I’m happy to speak with them, but the Dominians are on their own land. They may not listen to our advice. If we stopped the song, they might turn back.”

  “We can’t stop the song!”

  “No, I agree, the song has become strangely central to our march. Let’s try to talk with them after we eat.”

  Constable Carlin, Captain Zerikon, Linden, Rowland, and I walked down the road to where the Dominians were camped. They seemed a little wary of us, but were willing to talk. In spite of our urging, they wanted none of our food and water. They’d brought what they could carry with them and said they knew where to find water along the way. And they were not concerned about an attack from Saduk. “We know you have scouts in the woods, watching. Saduk won’t surprise us,” said a white-haired man. “Anyway, he won’t come all the way out here. Why should he if you’re willing to come to him? He’s snugged away in his stronghold with his Bezarqs and vithons—waiting for you.”

  “But what about all the conscripts? Surely they’re not tucked into Bal Zor too?”

  A youthful voice spoke up. “Don’t worry about them. I was a conscript not long ago.” Linden held up his lantern, and I saw a young man whose worn brown cloak failed to hide the faded black tunic beneath. “The conscripts won’t attack us. Not without Bezarqs forcing them.”

  “I have a question for the young lady,” said a woman from the midst of the crowd. “You’d not sit by if you were in my place, now would you?” The people around her bobbed their heads, watching for my response.

  I bowed. “You have me there, lady. I would do the same as you.”

  “There you are,” she said. Her companions murmured agreement. In spite of all our urging, the Dominians would not be turned back.

  “They’re finally showing signs of life,” I said, “and we’re trying to turn them away.” We gave it up and headed back to our camp.

  We sent the children back many times on the fifth day, but they were determined to follow us. Our gruff Guardian sergeants would escort them to the end of the line and tell them to go home, but the children treated it like a game and were soon back where they’d started. As we came nearer to Bal Zor, the song’s cadence quickened and took on a stronger, more warlike sound. The children, especially, responded to it, their steps enlivened by the rhythm of the drums. They found sticks along the way and used them to beat out the measure. Some of the children had whistles given by the minstrels, and their enthusiasm for playing was limitless.

  Connor’s scouts kept reporting that more men, women, and children were falling in behind us, too many to count. “Can you believe this?” Rowland said to me. “How long has it been since our people did anything together?”

  “It feels like Domaine is waking up. It’s like they’ve been asleep their whole lives and they’re just now beginning to realize it.”

  “Now that’s a thought!” Rowland looked over his shoulder. “What do you think will happen when they’re fully awake?”

  “I don’t know…but I have a feeling we’re about to find out.”

  He grinned. “Sure can’t wait to tell the old man about all this. It’ll top any of his stories, far and away.”

  We camped that night alongside the Balton Road, likely our last night before Bal Zor. I was longer than usual grooming Morningstar, brushing his soft mane and braiding his tail afresh. I cleaned and oiled each hoof and let him nuzzle my pockets for the bruised apple I’d saved to share with him. Rowland was working next to me, close enough that we bumped into each other a few times reaching for brushes or harness oil, but neither of us had much to say.

  After eating, Constable Carlin went over plans for the next day. “One hour out from Bal Zor we will stop the wagons and distribute dry stores and water for our saddlebags. Captain Zerikon, you will make it clear to the Dominians that they must stay behind and keep the children with them. They are to hide in the forest and return to their homes the next day. Even if the battle goes well for us, there will be Bezarqs everywhere. Tell them to avoid the road and return by country paths. You must stress that we cannot have them underfoot.”

  “As you say, Constable.”

  “Nieve, you are responsible for the children who are by themselves. I’d like to send them back also, but they’ve proven that they won’t leave us. If things take a bad turn, we will send word. You are to provision yourselves and ride for Canwyrrie. Use your weapons for defense only. If the battle goes our way, we will send for you. You’ll need to have all your medicines and bandages ready.”

  “Yes, Constable.”

  “Good, good. Now let’s walk through this once more. It is vital that Saduk believes we have taken his bait. Connor has reported large camps of Blackcoat foot soldiers deep in the forest south of Balton. Our reserves will stay south of them and move when they move. Our main force will continue to march toward Bal Zor until Saduk comes out to meet us. When Saduk springs his trap, we will allow him to think he is winning, and then our reserves will outflank his foot soldiers, and Saduk will find himself in the middle. As always, we target the vithons and Bezarqs first. Conscripts will go as the wind blows, and if we create a big enough surprise, they might be blown into our camp.”

  The officers scattered to go over preparation and assignments with their men. Rowland and I stayed by the fire. Rowland was cleaning his ring mail, making gentle clinking sounds as he rubbed the links with an oiled cloth.

  I unsheathed the sword Papa made for me, sighting down its gleaming length. It couldn’t have been in better condition, but I began burnishing it with a cloth. “I can’t help thinking that we’re missing something,” I said softly.

  Rowland looked up. “What are you thinking?”

  “I just wonder if we’re not seeing this right. What if Saduk isn’t in Bal Zor at all? What if he’s planning an ambush?”

  “It’s not that we’ve ruled it out. We’re prepared to fight him if he comes out tonight. But Zerikon knows this land well. According to him, there is no terrain along this stretch of road that woul
d give Saduk an advantage. Connor’s scouts are well-trained and thorough. I think they would have uncovered an ambush involving significant numbers.”

  “I just think that Saduk will pull out some trick we’re not expecting, and it worries me.” I sheathed my sword and took a whetstone to the edge of my dagger, which at least had seen action on this journey, cutting poles for cooking pots and other sundries.

  Constable Carlin came by and squatted on his heels beside us. “I am under orders,” he said to me, “from Lord Kempton. If we engage Saduk tomorrow and it does not go well, Rowland is prepared to get you back to Canwyrrie. Brady and a small company will go with you, but you are to follow Rowland’s orders as if they were coming from the king himself. If Rowland says go—you go. Lord Kempton said you would understand this.”

  I glanced at Rowland’s calm face and back again at Carlin.

  “Understood, sir.”

  The constable left, and I said, “You knew he was going to say that!”

  “Just a precaution,” Rowland murmured.

  “I know, but…how could I abandon the fight?”

  Rowland’s eyes were steady in the flickering firelight. “I understand how this must feel to you, but you must think of your people first. It will be all right. We will do as we must, and we will hope that such measures are not needed.”

  I reached for the whetstone, and my pendant swung forward, its colors sparkling in the firelight.

  Chapter 35

  At noon on the sixth day, Connor rode back to report that we were an hour south of Bal Zor and that our reserves were in place behind the enemy positions. I watched Constable Carlin’s orders ripple back through the ranks to our followers at the end of the line, ignoring the sudden twinge in my gut. As instructed, the Dominians jumped off the wagons and helped Tal hide them among the trees. Tal would mind the horses, letting them graze on whatever withered grasses they could find, until we were ready to return to Canwyrrie. While the wagons were being sorted, I had time for a tearful goodbye with Nieve and the other minstrels. Our Dominian shadows unhitched the horses and faded into the glum woods.

  We went our separate ways then, the minstrels singing and playing as they rode into the woods. I strained to hear the last notes fall under the clop of horses’ hooves and the metallic clink of armor and weapons.

  We wound on through the hills until we saw the spires of Bal Zor jutting over the treetops. On the last rise, we stopped. Spread out before us was the River Zor, with its island fortress in the center, and alongside the river, the adjacent town of Balton—the end of our long quest, or was it? Would we find the king within its high walls? The thought stole my breath away and made my heart thump in my ears.

  Every story I’d ever heard about Bal Zor was true. The fortress was perfectly situated, built on a large, rocky outcrop that thrust up from the center of the Zor. Like a greedy snake that had swallowed a rabbit whole, the wide bend of the river was bulged out, and at the center of that bulge was Bal Zor. The town of Balton lay within the great bend of the river, surrounded on three sides by terraced fields of grain. Even from this distance the crops looked healthier than any I’d seen on Dominian soil, and for good reason. Long lines of people were passing buckets up from the river and into the fields. The whole tract was being hand-watered from the Zor.

  The town itself was not unlike Highfield Town. A large square paved with cobblestones formed the center of the town. Surrounded on three sides by houses and shops, the square was open toward the river. A scattering of people could be seen walking up and down the crooked streets lined with gray stone cottages that led off the square in all directions.

  Bal Zor, by contrast, seemed cold and dead. The long stone bridge was empty, the wooden drawbridge in its raised position, leaving an impassable gap between the gate and the main bridge. The enormous courtyard in front of the keep did not appear to reflect war preparations. Great storage barns were visible, no doubt packed with food stolen from hardworking farmers, but the view of the mews and various outbuildings to the rear was blocked from our vantage, allowing for the possibility of hidden activity. Several black-cloaked watchmen walked back and forth atop the steep walls that clung to the rocky edges of the island. High above their heads a black flag flew, bearing the red vithon crest of Worrgard.

  What was Saduk up to? Was King Aidan one of Bal Zor’s tightly held secrets? Could he be hidden in the rocky dungeons beneath Bal Zor? If so, there was a chance that I might look into my father’s eyes this very night. It was a thought I’d scarcely allowed myself, for if the king was here, Saduk had an even greater need to defeat our challenge.

  A sick, heavy feeling washed over me as I filled my eyes with the enemy fortress. We had come so far…and nothing I could see offered the smallest hope. He would have to come out. Saduk could not resist our bait, but even so, even if he took our bait…I closed my eyes, my head dropped. Behind me I heard the muted rustlings of horses and men. No one was saying anything. How I missed the minstrels and the strong beat of the song.

  “Open your eyes!” a soft voice whispered.

  I hadn’t realized that my eyes were clamped shut. The pledgestone was dangling from my bowed neck, sparkling with rainbow colors in the westerly sun—a reminder to look beyond myself to the promise. “Your vision is your weapon,” Orabella had said to me. “Watch where you aim it.” I lifted my head and sat straight in the saddle.

  Constable Carlin was looking at me. “Do you have a word for our men before we ride on?”

  “I do, sir.” My heart pounding, I guided Morningstar to a small prominence and turned to face the Army of Enfys. “A few short months ago,” I said in a loud voice, “no one could have imagined that we would stand in this place. Each one of us has volunteered to be here, and we did so for a reason. We are here because we caught a glimpse of what could be. We saw that a great day was coming, a day on which our whole history would turn. And each one of us wanted to be a part of it. We knew that our children and grandchildren would point to this day and say, ‘This is the day that Bal Zor was taken back for our king. This is the day that the breach in our realm was healed.’

  “In our mind’s eye we saw it. We believed it could happen. And so we marched. But now these stone walls stand before us. You may look at them and think that we have made a mistake, that Saduk has nothing to fear from us. He is sitting tight in a stronghold that has never been taken. He has more men, more weapons and supplies, than we. And he has his vithons.” I paused, pressing my hand over the letter in my breast pocket. What could I say in such a moment? What would my father say? I took a deep breath and forged ahead.

  “But Saduk has forgotten something. He has forgotten that Bal Zor was never made for Saduk or for Worrgard. This fortress belongs to the United Realm. Here in the heart of our realm, the mighty stone walls were laid, the tall spires and gracious lines all built as a place of protection and beauty for our people.” I gestured with my hand. “That great pile of stones has a memory. It remembers well the tread of ancient footsteps, the majestic echo of trumpets…the song of the people. And now these stones call out for the return of their king.”

  I drew my sword and held it before me. “Saduk is a pretender. He does not belong here. This is the day we mend the broken circle.”

  I looked around at the gathered warriors. Their heads were raised now, their eyes fierce. A rumbling sound was rising from the ranks. I raised my sword and shouted, “This day the House of Enfys will possess the gates of Bal Zor!” I joined in the great shout that rose upward, pointing my sword at the gray sky.

  Constable Carlin gave the signal, and we marched down the valley road, through the grain fields, to Balton. The workers had fled the fields, and the town was shuttered down for a storm. We took possession of the large field between Balton and the bridge, careful to position ourselves well out of bowshot from Bal Zor’s walls. Our field was no doubt a flood plain in wetter times, and it rema
ined uncultivated. Above the plain was the town, and above the town were the terraced grain fields. Beyond the fields were the wooded hills where our reserves were hiding. The fields were cut top to bottom by paths used for irrigation, perfect for the reserves to sneak down when the time was right.

  We all knew where to go, so there was no need for shouted orders. We positioned ourselves opposite the bridge, the Eagles and the Lions sharing the front lines. Our right flank was a combination of Eagles and yeomen, and the left, Lions and yeomen. The rear, closest to Balton, was taken by the Evergreens. Rowland and I took our places at the northeast corner along with Constable Carlin.

  From the lord of the tower, we heard not a peep.

  “The thought keeps coming to me,” I said to Rowland, “that we’re like players in a life-sized game of stone soldiers.”

  “Well, if that’s what it is, we’ve just made a mighty bold move.”

  “So we have.” My eyes wandered to the massive fortress in the middle of the river. “And now it’s his turn.”

  Unless waiting was Saduk’s strategy, there was no countermove.

  Chapter 36

  It was midafternoon when we took our positions on the field. After that, nothing moved except the sun falling gradually westward behind the blanket of gray clouds. Our forces had long ago dismounted and were taking turns watching and trying to relax in the breathless air. The last of the afternoon finally passed, and the warmth of the day began to lift. A faint but welcome breeze wafted down toward the river, bearing wisps of smoke and cooking smells from Balton.

  I was giving Morningstar his evening grooming when the sound of Yeoman hunting horns blasted over the plain. Torin, who was serving as an aide to Constable Carlin, came barreling down the slope from the fields above Balton. We didn’t have to wait for his message. Between the top of the terraced fields and the woods behind them, a line of mounted Blackcoats emerged from the woods. The angle of the slope prevented me from seeing how many, but they advanced in rows, forming a half circle behind the fields and down to the river bend. I dropped my brush, strung my bow, and was on Morningstar’s back in a few moments. Everyone around me did the same. There was time only for a quick exchange of glances with Rowland.