by Cas Peace
Sullyan smiled. She loved fast riding and was enjoying the race immensely. Elias glanced over at her and she began to laugh. This was her only failing; the speed of wild riding often made her laugh and she could lose concentration. Elias grinned to hear her, and all thoughts of the race disappeared from her mind in the wild exhilaration of her powerful mount, the wind of speed past her face, and the sheer joy of such rushing freedom. This was how she often felt when using her Artesan powers.
The chestnut was at last falling behind, unable to match the Manor horses for stamina. Emerging from the trees by the stream, Drum and Darius thundered round the top of the course, scarcely a nose between them. There were only three obstacles left: a huge fallen oak with a downward slope on the landing side, another post and rails, and the tunnel. The tunnel was the final and most difficult obstacle. Twenty yards long, dark and dank inside, it was only just wide enough for one horse at a time. Whoever reached it first was almost bound to win.
Fully stretched out now, both stallions laid their ears flat. Sullyan and Elias lay along necks sweaty from exertion. Nostrils red and extended, powerful hindquarters bunching and flexing, the two horses pelted headlong for the fallen tree.
Sullyan took a gentle feel on Drum’s light bridle, bringing him instantly under control. Thoroughly obedient even when his blood was up, he marginally shortened his stride and flew the tree faultlessly. Elias, not knowing his mount so well, took more of a pull and Drum eased a nose in front.
But Darius was young and fit and he soon raked back Drum’s lead. Sullyan could hear the crowds yelling encouragement and both mounts responded as their riders asked for yet more speed. Racing breakneck for the post and rails, Sullyan decided not to take a pull this time but trust to Drum’s balance and fitness. She sat still and allowed him to measure his own stride. He flew the fence with ease and she laughed for sheer joy.
She heard Elias urging his younger horse on. Throwing caution away, he touched Darius with his heels just before the fence, and the colt made a mighty leap. He landed just ahead of his herd-mate and the King pushed him harder, stretching his lead as much as he could. Sullyan laughed breathlessly just behind him. It seemed Elias would make the tunnel entrance first, and there was nothing she could do about it.
*****
Seeing the horses approaching the tunnel, Baron Reen straightened. He eyed the tree growing a few yards beyond the tunnel mouth and nodded in satisfaction. Throwing away the rind of his fruit, he concentrated on the charging horses.
It was the most closely contested race anyone could remember. Darius flew into the tunnel, Drum hot on his haunches. The tunnel was dark after the bright afternoon sun and the going was slippery. Knowing the prize was surely his, Elias allowed Darius to slacken his pace, not wanting him to slip on the tunnel’s treacherous floor. As the colt hurtled out into the brightness once more, the King laid himself along Darius’s powerful neck. Blinded by the sun, Elias neither saw Reen’s intense stare nor heard his quietly spoken word.
*****
Sullyan followed the mahogany colt as closely as she dared without Drum treading on his heels. She would use her mount’s superior strength to draw abreast of Darius in the last few yards, for she had no intention of losing the race to Elias. They would cross the finish line nose and nose.
She was about to press heels to Drum’s heaving sides when she felt a sudden, shocking surge through the substrate. With no knowledge of its origin or purpose, she had no chance of negating its effects. Horrified, she saw the ground in front of her suddenly buckle violently, heaving directly into the speeding horses’ path. The sudden shifting of the ground beneath their feet caused the racing stallions to squeal in fear. There was a dreadful tearing sound, and then a deep whump as a tree toppled right across the course. Drum, slightly farther from the center of the disturbance, managed to keep his feet, but his wrenching swerve and valiant leap nearly unseated Sullyan.
She heard a great gasp from the crowd and not a few screams. Her heart stopped as Darius, closer to the toppled tree, was caught by the falling branches and sent flailing to the ground. Sliding, snorting, and squealing, he threw his rider in a wild tangle of arms and legs. Elias’s body skidded along the earth and fetched up hard against the railings. With a sickening thump, he lay still.
Chapter Eleven
It was mid-afternoon, and Bulldog and Robin were relaxing under a warm summer sun. The morning’s exercises had gone well and the leader of the Andaryan forces, Commander Barrin, was lounging on the ground beside them. They were drinking Bull’s evilly strong fellan and listening to the soft strains of Cal’s longwhistle, coming from where the dark-skinned young man was sitting, his eyes closed, lost in his music.
The rest of the men, both Albian and Andaryan, were gathered in groups, talking amongst themselves while waiting for the final exercise to begin. This last maneuver would take place within the forests to the east of the Citadel, and afterward there would be feasting. The Albians would return to their own realm the following day.
Each side had taken turns as the aggressor in the planned maneuvers, and it was now the Albians who would attempt the capture of a fictitious Andaryan-controlled strongpoint. Several of the junior officers had already been assigned temporary commands, and it was Robin’s intention to give Cal command in this final phase. He had become increasingly impressed by the young man’s grasp of tactics and the easy but confident manner with which he both gave and took orders. It reinforced Robin’s decision to recommend Cal for promotion when the King came to inaugurate the new College. He had not yet mentioned this to Cal, but he did have Bull’s full support as well as that of Cal’s captain, Dexter, both of whom shared Robin’s opinion.
Although these were merely training exercises, both Robin and Barrin had posted scouts and sentries. There might be nothing for them to report on, but it was good practice for the men. So they were all surprised when they heard the sound of galloping hoof beats. Robin stood, trying to identify the rider. It turned out to be one of Barrin’s scouts, and the Andaryan Commander frowned as he rose to meet the man.
The scout made straight for him, his horse scattering dirt as it slithered to a halt. Robin’s puzzlement deepened as he registered the scout’s distress. He couldn’t hear precisely what the man was saying, but he did catch the words “under attack.” He immediately barked commands at his own men, all of whom leaped for their mounts, weapons ready. He didn’t know what Barrin was up to, but he wasn’t going to let the Andaryan put one over on him by springing a surprise attack.
Barrin’s expression was ominous as he left the scout and marched stiffly over to Robin. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, Major, but you won’t catch us out like that!” He abruptly grabbed the reins of his stallion.
Robin raised his brows. “Whatever it is, Commander, it has nothing to do with us.”
Barrin snorted and prepared to mount. “You seriously expect me to believe that when there’s an armed force of Albians heading straight for us? You’ve kept units in reserve, Major, it’s obvious. Don’t make the mistake of thinking me stupid!”
Robin shook his head. “Commander, I give you my word I know nothing about this. If there is an armed force from Albia anywhere near here, then let me assure you, it’s not from the Manor. Neither is it under my command.”
Barrin froze. “Then what the Void’s going on? If it’s not part of the exercise, we could be under attack for real!”
“We’d better go and see,” said Robin. “We can’t afford to let them approach the Citadel, whoever they are. You have command, Barrin. We’ll back you up.”
Barrin swore and sprang into his saddle. He approached the scout, who was panting after his hard ride. The man answered his Commander’s new set of questions as best he could. Barrin swore again, barked orders to his lieutenants, and called tersely to Robin.
“They are about sixty strong, approaching from the northwest. Smoke was seen rising from two villages, so if this really isn’t your d
oing those people are in deep trouble. I don’t know what the raiders’ objectives are, but we have to stop them. If you really want to help, cover the right flank.”
Robin nodded. He and Bull formed their own men into units, with Dexter and Cal each at the head of about eighty men. Bull glanced at Robin as they took up their positions on the right of Barrin’s forces.
“Sixty?” he murmured. “That’s a sizeable force for casual raiders. What’s going on? They can’t really be Albians, can they? We haven’t done that sort of thing for scores of years.”
Robin shrugged. “I don’t know, but I can’t see why the scout would lie. Barrin’s rattled, so it has to be real. We’d better be careful, Bull. I suggest we hang back a bit until we see how the land lies.” He gave the big man a hard stare. “And if it comes to fighting, you’re to keep out of it, do you hear?”
Bull returned the look and didn’t reply.
They rode at a fast canter, following the scout’s lead. The woodlands to the west and north of the Citadel weren’t as dense as the forest to the southeast, and soon they saw the smoke that had alerted the scout. The man pointed, drawing Barrin’s attention, and before they had gone much farther they all heard the shouts, screams, and unmistakable sounds of fighting. Barrin barked orders and surged ahead to repel the raiders.
Robin held his men back, allowing Barrin to engage first. But it was quickly obvious that this was no exercise, and also that their adversaries were unarguably human. Robin had no choice but to commit.
“Bull,” he yelled, “take charge of Cal’s unit, will you? Keep an eye on him for me.”
The big man reluctantly drew rein, growling, “Yes, sir.”
Robin felt a pang of sympathy for him. He was mindful of the instinctive reaction to fight that had ingrained itself in Bull over many years. He appreciated how hard it was to ignore once the blood was up. However, he also knew Bull’s weakened heart couldn’t take the strain, and he knew how vicious Sullyan’s temper would be if any harm came to the big man. Bull knew it too. He wasn’t happy to be ordered out of the fighting, but he obeyed Robin’s command and told Cal to lead his men farther out on the flank to catch any stragglers.
And then there was no more time for thought. They were among the raiders and fighting through the trees. Steel met steel with deadly intent.
The battle was intense but short. Barrin and Robin fielded by far the superior force and the raiders’ leader soon realized this. Once he saw the size of the company ranged against him, he turned and fled. They all heard his hornsman sound a retreat.
Robin’s three units had become scattered through the trees. He and his own men were to the west, Dexter was off to the east, and Bull was behind them. The big man was still nursemaiding Cal, although his terse reports to Robin through the substrate indicated that Cal was doing very well.
Robin became aware that the raiders he was pursuing had vanished. One minute they could be glimpsed through the trees about eight hundred yards ahead; the next, they were gone. Suspecting an ambush, Robin slowed his men and wheeled about, searching for the raiders. There was no sign.
Bull, do you still have sight of the enemy?
No, came Bull’s terse reply, they’ve disappeared.
Bring the men over here, will you?
Robin contacted Barrin through the substrate and received the same response. Puzzled, they regrouped, none of them with any explanations.
Riding back the way they had come, Robin dismounted by a group of dead raiders sprawled on the ground. Bull and Barrin followed suit. Crouching down, they examined the bodies. They were human, right enough, yet they bore no distinguishing marks of any kind. They wore a motley assortment of clothing, and their weapons were the sort anyone with a reasonable amount of coinage could obtain. Bull and Robin exchanged worried glances.
Barrin wasn’t worried. He was furious. “How do you explain this, Major?” he demanded.
Robin stood and faced him. “I can’t, Commander. They’re human, that much is obvious, but as to who’s behind this, I can’t say. Someone must have given them access through the Veils, but none of these was an Artesan. Perhaps their leader was, although I didn’t sense anyone working. Did anyone else?” The Artesans in the group shook their heads. “We’ll have to make reports to the Hierarch and King Elias,” continued Robin. “I assure you, Commander, we’ll do our best to sort this out.”
Barrin wasn’t impressed. “And who’s going to compensate the people of these villages? Their homes and livelihoods have been destroyed.”
Robin bridled. “Who compensated our people when yours were raiding wholesale through the Albian countryside a few years ago?”
He felt Bull’s restraining hand on his arm. “Let’s not have the wake before the bloody funeral, gentlemen. The damage has been done. Let’s see what we can do to help these poor people before we make our report.”
Muttering under his breath, Barrin marshaled his men, checking that those with wounds were able to ride. Robin did the same. Once formed up, they approached the burning village. It was completely destroyed, and dead bodies lay in the street, including many women and children. Peasants and farmers all, they had been completely unprepared for such a vicious attack.
The few survivors gathered in the street once Barrin convinced them to come out of hiding. They regarded the Albians with fear. Disturbed, Robin signaled a withdrawal, leaving Barrin to reassure the villagers and tell them to make their way to the Citadel, where they would be cared for. The Commander’s expression was grim when he finally left the ruined village and made for the second pall of smoke that was still rising into the sky.
When they reached it, the story was much the same. Robin again held his men back so as not to alarm the already terrified villagers, but it took Barrin some time to convince them that the Major’s forces weren’t there to finish what the raiders had started. He wasn’t helped by the fact that one farmer had seen the raiders and overheard their leader telling his band that the King’s man would reward them well for their work.
Robin felt sick when he heard this, and Bull’s florid complexion reddened further. “But that’s nonsense!” he blurted.
The farmer, who was clutching his pitchfork as if it was the only thing keeping him alive, stared belligerently up at Bull.
“You calling me a liar, human?” His slit-pupiled eyes blazed with anger. “I may only be a simple farmer, but I know what I damn well heard! Look what they’ve done to my home. Our village is burned to the ground. Can’t deny that, can you? Getting greedy, your king, is he? Thinks he can take our land from us? Well, just let him try! You’ll see we’re not so frightened of you on your big horses when we band together. You’ll not drive us from our homes.”
He advanced on Bull, brandishing the pitchfork. Bull’s stallion snorted and sidestepped, anticipating a charge. Robin, Dexter, and Cal all closed ranks around the big man to protect him should the need arise, but the farmer stopped short of attacking him. Instead, he spat forcefully on the ground at the horses’ feet and glared at Bull in disgust.
Barrin turned to Robin. “I think you’d better leave. Let me deal with this. Go back to the Citadel. I’ll follow on when I’ve made some arrangements for these poor people.”
He turned dismissively, leaving Robin no option but to take his advice.
*****
It was evening, and Robin was facing a furious Lord General Anjer. The planned feast had been canceled; the food would be distributed among the surviving villagers when they arrived at the Hierarch’s gates the next day.
“I honestly can’t tell you any more, Lord General,” said Robin as he finished his report. “The raiders were human, but I can assure you they didn’t come from King Elias.”
“But the farmer definitely heard one of the raiders say that the King would reward them?” put in the Hierarch, throwing a calming glance at Anjer who was bristling with righteous rage, his black eyes blazing. Anjer wanted Barrin’s report, but the Commander had not yet returned
. He had wrung every possible detail from Robin and now wanted to go over it all again. The young man felt like an overridden horse; exhausted and lame.
“Yes, Majesty,” he replied, as patiently as he could. “But as I’ve already said, King Elias has no reason to order raids into Andaryon. Even if he did, he wouldn’t send common brigands. He would order his forces out, and then we at the Manor would know about it. I beg you, Majesty, be reasonable. My Lord General, surely you realize that if King Elias had a grievance serious enough to warrant punitive action, his first move would be to send Colonel Sullyan here as his Envoy?”
He appealed to the two powerful men, his hands spread before him. At the mention of Sullyan’s name, Anjer’s temper cooled. Aside for his admiration for her, she was directly responsible for the fact that he now had a baby daughter, and he had even named her after Sullyan, calling her Brianne.
Pharikian nodded wearily. “He’s right, Anjer. She’d have been here long ago if there was any kind of problem.”
“Very well, Major,” said Anjer curtly, “I’ll accept what you say. But you understand my anger. Two villages destroyed and all those people killed or made homeless! This has come with no warning, and just when relations between our races were improving. It’s a very serious development and we need to find out who’s behind it.”
“I agree, sir, and I’ll be reporting to both General Blaine and Colonel Sullyan tonight. It may be that they know something about this, although I think I would have been told if they did.
“Majesty, my Lord, please rest assured that we’ll do everything we can to sort this out. I know that neither the King nor General Blaine would do anything to jeopardize relations with Andaryon. I can state that with no fear of contradiction.”
Chapter Twelve
Sullyan was closest to the fallen Elias. She wheeled Drum around, leaping from his back before he completed the move, and sprinted for the body of the King. As she reached him, many of the bystanders came rushing toward them, including Baron Reen, who was brushing leaves and twigs from his clothes and roaring loudly for help.
