Storms of Destiny

by A. C. Crispin

  “Discovered their plan?” Major q’Rindo echoed. “How?”

  Talis swatted at a fly on the white horse’s neck, trying to think of a reply. The major glared at her. “Trooper Talis, just how did Trooper Jezzil discover the Chonao plan?”

  This was the part Talis had been dreading. She’d racked her brain trying to think of a reasonable explanation, one that didn’t include magic, but no inspiration come to her.

  “Major q’Rindo, sir,” she said, her mind racing, “Jezzil realized what the Chonao were planning because of …”

  She hesitated. Goddess, help me!

  The major was plainly losing his patience. “Yes?”

  Talis felt her mouth move, but had no idea what she was going to say. Words came tumbling out, though. “Because of smoke signals, sir! He saw them rising into the air up on the ridge, and was able to interpret them. It’s how the Chonao send long distance signals during secret attacks.”

  Talis sagged with relief when Major q’Rindo blinked at her in surprise. “Please, Major,” she added, “we need to go after him right now. We’ll need lots of reinforcements.

  There’s a whole regiment coming. If we can’t stop them, the Chonao are going to be attacking from our rear!”

  The major hesitated, then shook his head. “That will be Colonel Bilani’s call, not mine,” he said. He signaled to a soldier. “You there! Take this news to the colonel, and tell him I shall be there in a moment to receive his orders.”

  “Yes sir!” The trooper was off.

  Talis wanted to scream with frustration. “Major, sir, we can’t wait for orders! You have to bring this company, and leave word for others to follow us!” she insisted. Her tension was communicated to the white charger, who began to dance beneath her. “If you don’t, everything that’s happened to Pela today will be for nothing! King Agivir will have died for nothing! We can’t let Kerezau win!”

  Still the major hesitated, though he was plainly torn.

  “Damnation, sir!” Talis shouted, “If you won’t go, then I’ll go alone. I owe that to the brave men and women who died here today! I owe that to King Agivir, who is doubtless still hovering over this battlefield, waiting for a Pelanese victory to bring him the peace he needs to go to the Goddess!”

  She drew her sword, and the familiar ring of steel made the white horse snort and rear. Talis brought him down.

  “Whoa, boy!” She turned to look at the line of men, her fellow troopers, her comrades. Her throat tightened. I have to appeal to them, get them to follow me! Goddess, help me convince them!

  She raised her sword. “Comrades in arms … who will ride with me to save Pela?”

  One of the troopers in the front row was staring at her as if he’d seen a ghost. “Look at her!” he said, pointing. “Look what she’s riding! That’s Banner, by the Goddess—King Agivir’s charger! ’Tis a sign!”

  Now the major, too, was staring at her mount. He rode his bay over and leaned over to look at the silver and gold mark-ings on the headstall of the bridle. “It is!” he said. “This is indeed Banner!” He glared at Talis. “Where did you get this horse?”

  Talis sat up straighter. “He came to me, sir.” Realizing that she was sitting astride a dead king’s mount made her almost feel as though some of King Agivir’s leadership ability was flowing through her, strengthening her. She turned back to the troops. “Who’s with me?” she shouted.

  Now voices were running through the ranks. “ ’Tis a sign, I tell you! A sign from the Goddess! We must go!”

  Major q’Rindo made his decision. “You three”—he pointed quickly to three of the troopers—“each of you inform two of the reserve cavalry companies. Tell their commanders where we are headed. Tell them we need them to join us. You”—he pointed to another trooper—“locate General Osmando-Volon. Tell him what has happened. He needs to station reserve infantry along the perimeter of Ombal Pass to prevent any incursion. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir!”

  Once the runners were away, Major q’Rindo turned to his troops. “Company Two, prepare to move out!”

  He turned back to Talis. “Trooper Aloro, we will follow your lead.” He threw her a smart salute.

  Talis barely kept her mouth from dropping open in astonishment. She gathered her scattered wits and raised her sword high. “Pela forever!”

  “Pela forever!” the major echoed.

  “PELA FOREVER!” Cheering, the company followed her lead.

  There is definitely a storm coming, Jezzil thought. The wind was whipping his hair as he rode, ducking under overhang-ing limbs, watching the path before them with every bit of alertness he could summon. At this speed a big rock or a limb in the path could prove disastrous. Falar was still galloping gamely on, but the mare no longer wanted to run. He could hear her breathing in hard, fast gasps.

  Jezzil knew if he kept pushing her, she would fall and hurt them both, or she’d founder and that would be the end of her.

  They had come nearly three miles in the heat, much of it uphill, at speed. When we round the next corner, he thought, I’ll stop her and get off and lead her. I can run for a mile or two, and then get back on. I can— They rounded the next corner and did stop, abruptly, because facing them was a large contingent of Chonao cavalry, with Barus in the lead.

  Jezzil pulled Falar up, but it was too late; he’d been spotted. He hesitated, wondering what to do. Set the trees on

  fire? Could he summon enough magic without the avundi-enhancing snuff, tired as he was? He cursed himself for not realizing that the attack force was so close.

  Barus had halted his horse, too, and was staring at Jezzil with such amazement that, under other circumstances, it might have been funny.

  “Jezzil!” he said blankly. “How did you get here? We thought you drowned.”

  Jezzil smiled and shrugged. “The last time we met, I was about to ask you the same question when you slugged me. I thought you died at Taenareth. I was glad to see you when I found out you were alive. Too bad you didn’t feel the same.”

  Barus made an impatient gesture. “I don’t find your feeble attempts at wit amusing. I ask you again—how did you get here?”

  Jezill grinned at him. Keep him talking. “I got here on Falar, as you can see,” he replied.

  Barus ignored the jest. He gestured, and in the next moment a score of pistols were leveled at Jezzil. “Tell me why you’re here.”

  Jezzil thought fast. “I came to warn you. There’s a regiment of Pelanese cavalry on the way to intercept you. Turn back now and you might be able to get away.”

  Barus stared at him for a moment, then laughed. “You expect me to believe you?”

  “We were friends once. I’m telling you the truth,” Jezzil said, hoping fervently that he was, indeed, telling the truth.

  “I don’t count cowards and deserters among my friends,”

  Barus said.

  Jezzil flushed, and had to force himself not to react to the taunt. “Listen to me, Barus. If you don’t want another mas-sacre like the one this morning, turn around and head back down that trail.”

  “People with no honor are liars, as well as cowards,”

  Barus said. “I’m under orders, and I’ll obey them.”

  “By the way,” Jezzil said, “what fool ordered that charge at dawn?”

  Barus gestured at his troops to stay back, then rode his sorrel closer to Jezzil. He stopped only a horse length away and lowered his voice. “As a matter of fact, Kerezau did,” he said softly. “But don’t worry, we made sure he won’t be issuing any more such orders.”

  “Kerezau? Has the Redai gone mad?” Jezzil asked.

  “He’s become increasingly erratic ever since that skirmish on the ship with that black-haired Katan bitch,” Barus replied. “We had to actually restrain him this morning.

  Whatever she did to him, it’s been the ruin of a great leader.

  But we still have able commanders. Pela will be ours.”

  “I don’t think s
o,” Jezzil said. “Those rifled muskets are cutting you to pieces. If you don’t want to face them up here, turn around and head back down that trail before the Pelanese arrive.”

  “You’re lying. There’s no one up here but you, and why you came, I can’t imagine. Not that it will do you a bit of good. First I’ll kill you, then I’m going to attack the rear of the Pelanese army and end this cursed battle before we run out of ammunition.”

  “Oh-ho,” Jezzil said. “You’re running low?”

  “Just between you, me, and the horses here, yes we are.

  Bad intelligence. We didn’t expect this much resistance.

  King Agivir is old and toothless, more prone to bargain than fight.”

  “Attack a man’s homeland,” Jezzil said, “and he’ll fight.

  Kerezau should have realized.”

  “It didn’t help that we lost two of our supply ships, carrying mainly ammunition, in that bedamned storm,” Barus said. “But Kerezau was determined to attack.”

  “I see,” Jezzil said.

  “At any rate,” Barus said, “I have things to do, so I’ll thank you to dismount. If you surrender quietly and give me Falar, I may even let you live.”

  “I don’t think I can do that,” Jezzil said evenly.

  Barus raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Want to make me a coun-terproposal, then, or should I just have you shot now?”

  Jezzil put his hand on his sword and raised his voice, to be sure the Chonao soldiers could hear him. “I challenge you,

  Barus. Single combat. You always claimed you were better than I was. Let’s find out.”

  Barus’s swarthy features darkened. “Enough wordplay and games, Jezzil. I don’t have time for it.”

  “You always claimed you could beat me easily. Are you afraid to prove it?”

  The soldiers murmured to each other. Barus flushed. He had always been quick-tempered, and Jezzil was counting on that.

  “Come on, Barus, how long could it take? To beat one coward? Or are you the coward?”

  With a wordless yell of rage, Barus drew his sword and put spurs to his horse. Jezzil was half a second late in reacting, but Falar, despite her weariness, was not. As she’d been trained, the mare reared back on her hind legs, then launched herself forward. Her fore hooves crashed into the sorrel’s chest, knocking the other mare off balance. With a surprised squeal, the sorrel went down. Falar nearly fell, too, but managed to lurch to her feet at the last second.

  Barus’s extraordinarily quick reflexes saved him from being pinned. He reacted instinctively, kicking his feet loose from the stirrups, and landed standing, astride the struggling mare. He jumped clear and moved in on Jezzil.

  Responding to leg pressure, Falar spun around, and Jezzil blocked Barus’s sword slash with his own blade. But the angle of fighting an opponent on the ground while mounted was awkward, though height gave him an advantage. Jezzil also knew that Barus might well try to disable him by bringing down Falar. He kicked his feet loose from his stirrups and leaped down.

  With one part of his mind, he heard the Chonao troops cheering their leader. Jezzil resolutely ignored them, concentrating on what he was doing. Barus was a formidable opponent, faster and more experienced than he was. Jezzil was a little taller though, and heavier, with a slight advantage in reach.

  Barus came in again, and they began to circle, testing each other, their blades kissing and sliding away. In the distance, Jezzil heard a rumble of thunder. The storm is coming.

  With a shout meant to distract, Barus feinted, then swung low, aiming for Jezzil’s legs. Jezzil swung his sword down, striking the blade aside. Their weapons rang out as they both came back up from the stroke, trying to press the advantage, blades sliding together until both guards touched. They paused for a second, breathing fast, close enough to embrace. “You fool,” Jezzil gritted, “I’m trying to save your life. Take your men and run.”

  When he spoke the words, he wasn’t even sure if they were true, but he knew one thing: even supposing he could, he didn’t want to kill Barus.

  “You were always soft, Jezzil,” Barus spat back. “And this time it’s going to get you killed.”

  They disengaged, both of them leaping backward, and this time it was Jezzil who feinted. He thrust at Barus’s midsection, then turned his sword at the last possible moment, aiming for his opponent’s wrist, trying to disarm him.

  Barus’s blade nicked Jezzil’s upper arm just as Jezzil’s blade reached its target. Barus cried out as his fingers loosened, and his sword spun away.

  With a bellow of rage, he flung himself straight at Jezzil.

  It would have been child’s play to run him through, but Jezzil found he couldn’t do it, though he had no doubt that Barus would have shown no such restraint. Instead he stepped to the side and, as Barus went by, brought the guard of his sword down on Barus’s head, sending him crashing to the ground, stunned.

  “I don’t want to kill you!” Jezzil burst out.

  Barus struggled up onto his elbow, blinking. “Then you’re a fool as well as a coward,” he spat. Turning his head, he shouted, “Kill him!”

  Jezzil flung his sword at the mass of riders, ducking as he did so— —and Cast.

  He was so tired, so drained from all that had gone before, that it was hard to maintain the illusion, but, grunting with effort, he forced himself to hold the Cast.

  A few steps brought him to Falar, and he swung up. She flung up her head and neighed in surprise. She couldn’t see me, either, just like the creature in the moat, he thought. But his hand on the reins and his weight were familiar, and she obeyed him as usual.

  “He’s a Caster!” Barus was screaming. “Aim for the horse! He’s on her! Shoot him!”

  Jezzil hung low on Falar’s neck and drove his heels into her sides as he did so, turning her nearly at right angles to the trail. Having caught her breath, she leaped forward immediately, crashing through a thicket of low hanging branches. Jezzil flung up an arm to protect his eyes.

  Musket fire filled the air. At any second Jezzil expected to feel Falar collapse beneath him, and he wished with all his being that he could extend the illusion to cover her, too.

  But she was still moving, crashing through greenbriers and limbs. Bullets whined all around them, but so far none had struck her.

  The moment he’d put a screen of greenery between them, Jezzil wrenched Falar’s head back toward the trail. He couldn’t run through the woods.

  The moment Falar burst through the trees onto the trail, the Chonao soldiers began shooting again. They were still within musket range. A bullet slammed into a tree an arm’s length away, and one whined over Jezzil’s head, close enough that he felt its passage.

  Quickly, still holding the Casting in his mind, Jezzil slipped off his saddle into a right side hang, leaving only his left knee and leg slung over the cantle, his arm thrown over Falar’s neck. Using the pressure of his arms as he would have used reins, he made the running mare weave back and forth along the trail. Bullets sang around him, but Jezzil knew only too well how difficult it was to hit a fast-running target.

  We’re going to make it, he thought. We’re— The bullet plowed into his thigh just above his knee and Jezzil cried out. The pain was searing, and he felt his left leg starting to go numb. Quickly, he pulled himself up and over so he could hang by his good right leg.

  Waves of pain made it so difficult to hold the Casting.

  Was he visible?

  Just a few more seconds and we’ll be out of musket range.

  Just a few more seconds …

  Gritting his teeth, Jezzil signaled Falar to keep swerving, clinging to her with all his strength. She responded gamely.

  Musket fire slowed to a trickle. They were losing the range, and they knew it.

  The shouts from his pursuers grew more distant.

  With a grunt of effort, Jezzil pulled himself up onto Falar’s back, struggling to stay there. He couldn’t get his foot back into the stirrup—his leg seemed numb fr
om the knee down.

  He realized, with one part of his mind, that he’d lost the Casting.

  Falar was slowing, her breath labored. White curds of foam covered her neck and shoulders. “No, keep going,”

  Jezzil said. “Keep going!”

  He slapped her with his free hand, and she stumbled, then picked up her pace.

  Thunder boomed, so close it startled him. A drop of rain splatted against his face.

  The only thing saving them was that they were heading mostly downhill. Jezzil held the laboring mare together with his hands, his body, talking to her. “Just a little farther. A few lengths more …”

  He could still hear his pursuers as they swung around a curve and started down another long downslope.

  Jezzil stared, incredulous for a long second, then raised his hands and sat back, bringing Falar to a staggering halt.

  Before him, filling the trail, was a large contingent of Pelanese cavalry. A big white horse led the charge, its rider shouting encouragement, waving a sword as it urged its companions on.

  Jezzil peered downhill. There was something very familiar about that yelling lunatic in the lead.

  Just as he recognized Talis and Major q’Rindo, the storm

  struck, bringing howling winds, booming thunder, and drenching rain.

  The rain had slowed to a steady patter by the time Talis, leading Banner reached Ombal Pass again. Wearily, she reflected on the past hours. Jezzil had barely gasped out his warning when the glint of sword blades and the flash of musket fire announced the enemy’s presence.

  Company Two had been heavily outnumbered, but the Chonao cavalry in the woods never stood a chance, caught as they were under the trees, unable to spread out into formation. The Pelanese troopers she’d led had kept them bottled up with ferocious sword-to-sword combat until the arrival of the rest of the battalion. At some point infantry reserves joined them, attacking with bayonets against an enemy that was mostly confined to the narrow forest trails, where mounted men could barely maneuver.

  And then, suddenly, they were gone, the Chonao falling back in disorderly retreat.

  The path she’d followed back from the foothill trails was a shortcut. The major had told her it would bring her out about even with the Pelanese front line. When she stepped out from behind the last screen of trees, Talis stood there for a long moment, staring in disbelief.