by M. S. Brook
I sighted along an arrow though the defenders were long out of bowshot. Their captain, a large, brutish-looking man, broke out of the circle and came forward a half dozen paces. “Put up your weapons, Canwyrs!” His deep bellow carried down the slope. “We’ve found a few of your friends.” He motioned, and the second row of Blackcoats changed places with the first. On the pommel of each saddle was a child. The recognition of who the children were was like a sword thrust to my gut. Too many to count, there must have been near a hundred of the precious children who had followed us through Domaine. The Bezarq captain motioned again, and the row of Bezarqs raised their daggers.
“Lower weapons!” shouted Carlin, and we relaxed our hold on bows and swords. In turn, the Blackcoats lowered their daggers. My heart pounding, I turned aside to look at Rowland, but the Bezarq was shouting again.
“Oh, and we found some other friends of yours too!” The Blackcoats parted at the road, and from behind them came our once-proud Minstrel Company. Bedraggled, on foot, stripped of everything except their instruments, they stood in a tight knot, clutching bagpipes, small flat drums, and flutes. I searched for Nieve and forgot to take a breath, but she was there, near the center, next to Linden.
“Why are they allowed their instruments?” I said under my breath to Rowland. He shook his head.
As if he had heard me, the Bezarq captain shouted the answer to my question. “How fitting that I found this wandering band of musicians just as we’re about to have a funeral! I brought them along to keep the funeral procession in step.” He gave a great shout of laughter. “I so enjoy a good funeral, don’t you?”
Directing his attention to the minstrels, he bellowed again. “Go on, play something. I’m feeling generous today. I’ll let you choose your own funeral music, but choose well—it’s the last song you’ll ever play!”
There was laughter from the ranks of the Bezarqs, but the minstrels stood where they were. Ignoring the Bezarq’s command, they held their heads a little higher—until the Bezarq gestured to the men holding our children. The daggers flashed up again, and I saw Nieve frantically signaling to her minstrels. The drums began beating, and a weak, mournful melody emanated from the pipes and flutes. The Bezarq shouted above it. “Go on, march! This is a funeral. Let’s see the procession.”
Casting anxious looks behind them, the minstrels stumbled forward, walking faster as they put more of the road between themselves and the Blackcoats. They reached the ranks of the Evergreens, who ran out and surrounded them, escorting their company into Balton’s deserted square. The rows of Bezarqs let the minstrels go, holding to their position above the fields. The music weakened and died.
“Why have you stopped?” the captain roared, his rough voice echoing down to us. “The funeral procession is only getting started. Many others are begging to join. I’ve been very patient with you, but time is running out. Stop playing again, and exactly half of these children will water the fields with their blood!”
Again the music started, and from behind the Blackcoat lines came a large assembly of our Dominian followers with Blackcoat foot soldiers all around them, prodding them along with their spears. The people reached the top of the terraces and ran for their lives across the grain fields and into the empty streets of Balton as if they would find safety there. Again the Blackcoats let them go, the foot soldiers retreating behind the rows of horsemen as the last of the people reached the town.
“What about the children?” shouted Carlin.
“We will hold them for you. Lord Saduk has a message to deliver, and I wouldn’t want you to be distracted. And keep playing that funeral music, or these children will suffer for your disobedience.” The Bezarq backed his horse into the line and looked straight ahead toward Bal Zor as though he expected Saduk to emerge at any moment.
All the captains gathered around Carlin, and he motioned for Rowland and me to join him. “Bring one of the minstrels here,” he said to Rowland.
“I’ll go,” I said and galloped up to the square where the minstrels were playing. I threw myself off Morningstar and ran to Nieve. She was facing her company, bravely leading them with her flute; her hair was tangled, her clothing in disarray, tears had made tracks in her dusty face.
“Oh, Aidriana!” she said when she saw me.
I gathered her in my arms and comforted her for a moment, and then I pushed her back to arm’s length and looked into her eyes. “You must put all that has happened aside and play the Song of Domaine.” Her eyes fell, and I said, “Look at me! We are not done here. We have the true song in our hearts, and it is not a dirge. Nothing that has happened here belongs in that song. You must play what is true and right. We all need you to do it.”
She shook her head. “They’ll stop us. They’ll hurt children—”
"It's all a jest to them. They don't believe the song has power."
Her eyes fell again. “I can’t remember it, Aidy. I can’t even remember how it goes now.”
I wouldn’t let her turn away. “Listen to me!” I sang the first lines that came to me. “Injustice falls and wrong’s made right, above the night we soar to light.” I sang the lines again, and Nieve hummed along with me.
“I think I have it. Help me get the others to follow.”
It was slow-going at first, but we got the minstrels to shift. The drums quickened ever so slightly, and the drones came in, steady and firm. Above the drones, the chanters sang the melody, still too slow and mournful, but it was a start. With the minstrels heading in the right direction, I took Linden back to the gathering of officers.
“Ah, Linden,” Carlin said. “Quickly—tell us what happened.”
“Sir, we were in the woods where you left us. The Dominians from the south had started back, and the rest of us were waiting, like you told us, for the outcome of the battle. All of a sudden we heard terrible wailing and screaming. A band of Blackcoats had captured some of the Dominians and forced them to tell our location. The Blackcoats grabbed the children who were with us and threatened to kill them—just like they did now. We had to lay our weapons down. I expected them to kill us, but of course, I understand now.” Linden rubbed his face. “Very sorry that we fell into their trap.”
“No, no,” Carlin said. “You did the only thing you could do. But now we need to find a way to get everyone out of the trap. Do you know if they discovered our reserves?”
“Not that I know, sir. None of them looked like they’d come from a fight.”
“Any idea what they have planned next?”
“None at all, sir. Wish I did.”
“Very well. Get back up there with the rest. Make sure you don’t stop playing. That Bezarq doesn’t need an excuse to kill our children.”
Constable Carlin sent us all back to our positions. There was little we could do until Saduk made his move. We had sufficient forces to break through the Blackcoat lines at the top of the fields, but that would be the end of the children and the unarmed Dominians in our midst. So we waited, weapons at the ready, for Saduk to show himself.
The streets of Balton were crowded now, but quiet. The true Song of Domaine, floating down on the evening breeze, brought a whisper of peace to my heart; my mind felt a little clearer. A few paces away from me, Constable Carlin was standing beside his horse, staring at Bal Zor. I thought he appeared less rigid than he had earlier. As we watched, black-clad figures moved along the fortress wall walk, lighting torches along the ramparts in preparation for sundown. Carlin turned to me and sighed. “Any thoughts, Seer?”
“It’s a riddle, sir. The trap is sprung, and we are caught in it. What is he waiting for? Why doesn’t he roll out his attack?”
Carlin shook his head. “I don’t know. Let’s hope our reserves are still out there, looking for the right moment to move in. They’re our best hope now.”
The song got louder while we waited, the Dominians in the streets were singing now
, and some of our warriors were humming along. In any other setting, I would have thought of nothing beyond the beautiful harmonies, but the air above us was heavy, as if a thunderstorm were coming. We were surrounded by Blackcoats holding innocent children. The strange sense of peace we were feeling would only last until Saduk made his next move.
Still, the song did what Saduk’s threats did not. Doors and windows began to crack open, and a few townsfolk stepped out to see what was going on. The bravest ones came into the square. They mixed with our Dominians, and we weren’t aware it was happening until we noticed that the streets had grown more crowded. I hoped the townsfolk would realize the danger and get back inside. Maybe they would hide some of the other Dominians in their houses.
The hot summer day drew to a close. The evening breeze stirred a bit more, kicking up the dust around us, blowing off the summer heat, and thrusting back the folds of cloud cover overhead. For the first time since crossing the Plevin, I saw the stars over Domaine as, one by one, they began to show themselves in the darkening sky.
More people came out to stand in the cobblestone streets, all dressed in the same colorless clothing, wearing the same stony faces we’d seen since crossing the border. They seemed to be waiting for us to do something, and as the crowd grew, so did my worry. Saduk would not ignore us for long, and with the children and the captured Dominians from the south, we had more than enough to worry about.
I nudged Morningstar closer to Carlin. “Sir, the crowds are growing. We’ve got to get the townsfolk out of danger.”
Carlin nodded. “I’m not sure they’ll be much safer inside, but at least they’ll not be underfoot. Sergeant Torin, get back to Captain Zerikon. Have his men herd the people back into their houses.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll take care of it.” Torin pushed back toward the crowded square.
Gray twilight slipped into darkness, and still we waited. The great fortress looming to the north became a black silhouette scattered with dots of light from loopholes and high windows. All at once, I saw green flames begin to flicker behind the dark towers. A murmur went up from the crowd, and everyone looked toward the northern horizon where giant green flames were licking at the trees along the far river bank. The flames seemed to spread to the forest beyond, catching the hills alight with green fire, flickering tongues reaching far up into the dark sky. And then the green gave way to a beautiful red, the colors pulsing and dancing in the night.
“Must be northern lights!” Rowland said in an awed voice.
“It’s beautiful!” I took in a slow breath, watching the colors dance against the night sky. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
In spite of our terrible situation, a sound of wonderment rose from the town. Even more townsfolk ventured out to see what the noise was about, further packing the square and the surrounding streets of Balton with a gawking crowd.
That was the moment Saduk picked up his game piece and took his turn. The harsh sound of iron grating against stone traveled across the river, and every eye turned toward Bal Zor, where a dozen shadowy figures pushed the creaking gates wide. The beautiful lights and song were forgotten, and a fearful quiet fell over the crowd. The drawbridge began to lower, straining on heavy chains, the iron-clad timber striking the stone bridge with a clanking thud. In the tower gateway, a dark figure emerged, mounted on a black warhorse. He stopped at the top of the drawbridge to survey the field. I could make out his shadowy form in the blaze of the torches burning on the bulwarks. He seemed to consider our rag-tag company for a moment, and then we heard his shout of laughter echoing across the water. The skin under my armor prickled with cold sweat. This was the reason we were here—to face this man who held our realm divided and our king in chains. The whole battle centered on Saduk. If he would just come within reach…
“Finally, he’s outside his walls,” I said to Rowland. “We could sure use Nerys and her long shot about now. If we could find a way to pick off Saduk, the tide would turn.”
“Not even Nerys could hit him from here. He is far too crafty to come within reach of your bow.”
“Too bad for that. I’d be happy to take him.”
There was a swarm of movement at the gate, shoving my heart to a gallop; hordes of vithons and their keepers emerged. Tromping onto the bridge, they halted in front of Saduk. Big, burly keepers held their charges to a tight leash, waiting for the word from their lord and master. The gate opening was packed with vithons, far too many for our spearmen to handle, and our swords and arrows would be useless against them.
“I never thought they’d have so many!” I said to Rowland.
“We’ll have to adjust.”
Carlin motioned to the officers around him. “New orders! It looks like Saduk’s going to stay on his side and throw all the vithons at us first. With none of their own troops on the field, there will be no restraint on the vithons. We must contain and kill them here on the field. Have our front lines, except for the bowmen, dismount and be ready to spear them. Eagles and Lions, have your bowmen move the front’s horses outside the flanks where they’ll be out of the way. The bowmen will reposition at the outer ends of the front line. The Bezarqs will follow the vithons. When they reach the end of the bridge, our bowmen will lay down crossfire, and our flanks will close in to meet whatever breaks through. I repeat, the vithons must not reach the town.”
The officers hastened to announce the orders to their men, and all around me I heard quick rustling and sheathing sounds as men put up their swords and unlashed their spears.
Rowland and I moved with the other Eagle bowmen to the eastern edge of the front line. I couldn’t help thinking of Rowland’s orders, wondering if he was already planning how to pull me out. But escape was not possible at the moment. There was still time to come up with a plan. I reached back and checked the position of my quiver, feeling the reassuring bundle of feathered shafts within easy reach. There was another, larger bundle lashed to my saddle, but it was no answer for Saduk’s trap. How could our plan work with all the children and our followers caught in the middle? Saduk didn’t care that his vicious beasts threatened the defenseless crowd, but he knew we would sacrifice everything to save them. Saduk would take full advantage of our divided attention.
“The reserves have to come through for us,” I said to Rowland. “If they can occupy the Blackcoats behind us, we can get the Dominians and the children out of here and take on Saduk face to face.”
“If we ever get started.”
Saduk must have been waiting for something. He swiveled in his saddle and signaled to the Bezarqs lining the wall walk above the gate.
“Prepare bows!” a guttural voice called, and all along the bulwark bows snapped into position.
“Shoot!” A volley of arrows flew at us, stabbing into the dry sod between our lines and the river.
“What was that for?” I said to Rowland.
“I guess he’s trying to enforce the message that he holds the keys. We’re trapped on his field, and the battle starts when he says so. It’s part of his game to keep us unsettled and confused.”
“It’s working.”
Saduk’s troops remained poised at the top of the drawbridge. What he was waiting for? I imagined that he reveled in our growing uneasiness. Our brave horses had caught the scent of the vithons. Eyes wide, they pawed at the ground, shaking their heads and snorting, adding to the tumult of our hearts and the clammy feeling under helmets and armor and tightly gripped fists.
There was one advantage for us in the waiting. The Dominian crowd was thinning. I imagined the people of Balton had gone back inside, leaving most of our followers in the streets. Zerikon and his men had the crowd moving into the side streets, away from the square. I wondered if Saduk saw that his waiting allowed more people to get out of danger. Something didn’t make sense.
The breeze picked up a bit more. I relaxed the hold on my bow for a moment and held u
p the pledgestone. There was a dim glow in its depths, a reflection, perhaps, of the moon rising in the darkening sky.
Suddenly there was shrill screaming from above the town. The Blackcoats had released the children. They were running through the grain fields, leaping and tumbling down the terraces, rolling back to their feet, and running again. Behind them, Blackcoats with torches were lighting the top of the terraces on fire. The harsh smell of smoke already tainted the air as glowing flames bit into the grain and leapt forward toward the town of Balton and toward our dry plain in front of the river. Saduk had been waiting for the evening breeze.
I made to turn Morningstar in the direction of the fields, but Rowland grabbed my bridle, leaning into my face. “You cannot get to them in time! They will be out of the fields before you get there. Saduk is trying to take us out of position.”
Shouts of alarm were rising from Balton, and from the nearest streets, groups of shadowy figures ran into the fields to rescue the children. I relaxed the width of a hair. The children were well ahead of the fire, and more than enough rescuers were running to them. I was about to thank Rowland for stopping me, when he gave a sharp cry. One of the nearest rescuers staggered and fell just as he was about to sweep a fleeing child into his arms. Archers on foot had emerged from behind the horsemen. Enlighted by the fires below them, the archers planted their longbows in the earth and shot down each rescuer as he neared, leaving the children as bait for any brave soul who dared the reach of their arrows.
