Echo of the High Kings (The Eoriel Saga Book 1)

by Kal Spriggs

  Ahead of her, she saw the Vendakar line waver, saw the leading ranks drop their weapons and turn to flee. In that moment, the Vendakar line crumbled and made certain that her cavalry charge would have its desired effect. Kerrel felt her blood rise and she let out a triumphant shout as she leveled her saber.

  Then Nightwhisper slammed into the Vendakar formation.

  The sound of five hundred cavalry as they smashed into the packed ranks deafened her. It sounded like a hundred hammers striking anvils at the same time. The heavy horses trampled the front ranks of the Vendakar. Kerrel had several seconds where she had no targets, as the Vendakar lines seemed to disappear.

  That passed and a Vendakar officer rose out of the chaos to swing his tulwar at her. She caught the blade with her shield and one of the runes on it activated, to send an arc of electricity into him. The officer fell to the ground stunned and disappeared under the hooves of Jonal's mount.

  Kerrel swung her fiery blade at one of the enemy. Her sword strike blasted him from his feet. Her next attack did the same. One of the enemy raised his sword to block, but her runic blade cut cleanly through his sword and split the man's head. Hot blood splashed across her arm and spattered her face. Kerrel lost track of the battle in the chaos of attacks and defense.

  The Vendakar formation shattered somewhere in that chaos.

  Kerrel realized it when Nightwhisper rode into the open, and Kerrel saw only fleeing Vendakar and confused Armen ahead of her.

  Nightwhisper surged under her. She looked left and right, and saw a line of cavalry that had cut through the startled Vendakar. Ahead of her she saw a mass of Armen that had just come out of the ford.

  She gave a shout of defiance and raised her flaming sword, “Death to the Armen!” Around her she heard five hundred throats echo the same cry. Her horse surged under her and the other cavalry followed her as they thundered towards their foes.

  ***

  Lord Hector the Usurper

  Hector felt like a man who took one too many blows in a bar brawl. His own reserve battalion sat motionless, many of the soldiers and mercenaries stunned.

  Hector watched with confusion as his heavy cavalry force charged the traitorous infantry battalion. Their deployment made sense now, though he had no idea how they positioned with the knowledge that the Vendakar planned to betray them.

  He felt yet another shock as he saw the fiery sword raised by the woman who seemed to lead the entire formation. Of course, he thought, Kerrel would be at the center of this kind of thing. He looked over to the north as drums sounded. The four reserve companies from the locals had turned and they closed ranks against a charge by the two companies of Vendakar cavalry. The Vendakar's clear target seemed to be his own reserve battalion, but the local companies stopped them cold.

  Kerrel must have convinced some of the locals, Hector realized. He felt a sudden pang that she had not trusted him, but he pushed that thought aside quickly enough. He doubted he would have believed her, no matter what evidence she had.

  And he saw that Commander Nasrat's seemingly disorganized formation swung to the side and formed up into a battle line as they surged across the river ford they should have defended and then spun south towards the main battle. “They'll hit the Armen while they're disorganized crossing the ford.” He hadn't realized he spoke aloud until he saw the commander of his personal guard nod.

  Hector spun to his own signalmen, “Sound the advance, we close with the southern ford.” He felt a spike of impatience as his own command struggled. He understood their shock, their confusion at what had happened. He could not blame them that. The battle plan had vanished, replaced by a fragile hope and the initiative of his captains.

  Hector hoped that would be enough.

  ***

  Captain Kerrel Flamehair

  Kerrel's arms ached with exhaustion. The flames on her blade had dimmed, until the runes glowed only faintly on her sword. Her force had cut through the Armen mass and swung back around, only this time the Armen numbers had stopped them. Despite everything they could do, the Armen continued to mass on this bank of the river.

  The Armen had recovered from their shock, as well. They fought with savage skill and Kerrel had seen a dozen of her men pulled from their saddles by the raiders. She had given up hope at a quick relief by the local battalion and she wondered if Lord Hector had done the smart thing and withdrawn. With the foothold that the Armen had gained, she doubted there would be any way to stop them now.

  Kerrel blocked another stroke, the impact made her arm go numb. She slashed her attacker with her saber and she saw Nightwhisper smash another attacker with a kick. To her side, she saw Jonal jump clear of his mount as it went down with an equine scream of pain. Kerrel turned her mount to give him some protection, at least long enough for him to get his feet under him.

  But her head snapped up at a tremendous crash.

  Ahead of her, she saw the Armen formation shudder. A moment later, she saw the banners of Lord Hector's personal guard, only a hundred yards distant. A cry of panic went up from the Armen and she saw them struggle to turn to face this new threat.

  Even as they did, Kerrel saw movement to the east, across the ford. She felt shock as Commander Nasrat's battalion smash into the Armen flank, right where it necked down to cross the ford. The entire fight seemed to stop for a moment. She heard Armen chieftains call out in fear and surprise.

  Kerrel let out a war cry and swung her sword down at the nearest Armen. Around her she heard her people give their own shouts and their attacks redoubled. She felt the enemy formation shudder again, like a great beast that suddenly felt fear.

  She could taste the change in the air, like a sudden storm in the spring on the high plains back home. Kerrel gave another war cry and then the Armen around her broke like glass. She saw Armen warriors turn and run, some of them right into the weapons of enemies behind them. She saw the raiders throw aside weapons and discard shields as they struggled to escape. Most fled into the ford, in a mass of men that struggled in the water. Some tried to squeeze out between her cavalry force and Lord Hector's battalion.

  Most died.

  The fighting had ceased and it became butchery. Kerrel continued her attacks, well aware that any Armen who escaped would be a threat to her people. None of the enemy tried to surrender, they seemed concerned only with retreat.

  When no more Armen remained within reach, she looked up. She felt her stomach churn at the bodies that littered the ground. Even worse, she saw hundreds of Armen dead choked the river, many had trampled each other in the ford and hundreds had drowned, even in the shallow water. Hundreds more littered the far bank, where Nasrat's battalion had slaughtered them as they struggled up out of the river.

  Kerrel raised her saber with a hand that trembled with exhaustion. She wiped the blood off the blade on her bloodstained pants and sheathed the blade. Her ears rung from the racket of the battle and the stench of death made her gag.

  She heard Jonal say something to her, his voice sounded tinny and distant in the ringing in her ears, “I guess we won.”

  “What a bloody stupid waste,” She said.

  ***

  Captain Kerrel Flamehair

  The Lonely Keep, The Lonely Isle, Duchy of Masov

  Twenty-Sixth of Tremarn, Cycle 999 Post Sundering

  Kerrel dismounted from Nightwhisper in front of Lord Hector and then went to one knee. She saw Baran grab the reins of her horse and lead it away. “My Lord, Captain Flamehair reporting. We have destroyed the traitors and routed the Armen.” She kept her eyes on the ground in front of her, even though the skin between her shoulder blades itched with anticipation. “I take full responsibility for the actions of my company, as well as those of the Mongrels, the Lancers, and the Harbringers.”

  “A single mercenary captain usurped authority over four companies... and somehow convinced one of my battalion commanders to ignore my orders and reposition his force,” Lord Hector said. Kerrel heard no emotion in his voice, neit
her anger or acceptance. She closed her eyes. Well, at least I managed to save Jonal, she thought.

  “In a move that left my entire force exposed, one captain risked the defense of this entire island on a hunch that we would be betrayed,” Hector said. “And if I had more officers like her, then we would have won this war already.”

  Kerrel looked up in surprise. Hector's dark eyed gaze swept over his assembled officers. “She showed initiative, resourcefulness, and dedication. Had she not acted as she did, we would have fallen to the treachery of House Rajdahar's mercenaries.” Hector glanced over at a cluster of Vendakar officers. “From your actions, I see that the actions of one Great House do not represent those of them all. I therefore exempt your people and your Houses from the following decree.”

  Hector spoke up, “I declare all Vendakar property in the Duchy of Masov forfeit for their treachery. Any Vendakar found within the borders of my lands will forfeit their lives. I place a bounty of ten Patriarchs on any members of House Rajpakopol and House Rajdahar found within my lands. Any man who kills one will receive one half that payment. I name House Rajdahar my enemy, and all those who oppose them my allies.”

  Lord Hector looked down at Kerrel. “I name you Commander of Cavalry, and appoint you as a Ducal Investigator. Without your insight and dedication to the truth, we would never have learned of the treachery of our enemies.” He took a deep breath, “Rise Commander Flamehair.”

  Kerrel stood. Her legs trembled and she felt her head spin at the sudden changes. Only a few moments earlier she expected death, now she did not know what to expect. A moment later she heard Pargan shout out, “A cheer for Commander Flamehair!” The roar that met his call almost knocked Kerrel over.

  “You all stand dismissed,” Lord Hector said, after the cheers finally died off. “All save my newest Commander, who I would speak with further.” He waited as the others moved out. Kerrel saw his guards move to establish a ring about them and to shield them from the sight of the others.

  Hector stepped forward and embraced her. Kerrel stood frozen in surprise. “My Lord...”

  “I thought I'd lost you,” Hector said, his voice subdued. “Worse... for a time, I thought you had betrayed me.”

  “No,” Kerrel said, “Though I feared I couldn't tell you the truth.”

  “Rightfully so,” Hector said. “If you'd brought the entire story to me before the battle... well I might have listened, but more likely than not I would have had you imprisoned or executed.”

  “Why did you trust the Vendakar so much?” Kerrel pulled away from the embrace. She studied his face, uncertain if she would like what she found there.

  Hector turned away. He stood silent for some time, “When I first set on this road, I killed my cousin with my own hands. And though he forced my hand, it has haunted me. That stain is one that I cannot wash away.” He turned back to face Kerrel. “House Rajpakopol's emissaries offered me money, a gift, if I opened Longhaven to their trade. More, they offered me the services of their assassins. House Rajdahar, apparently eager to match such trade, offered me the services of their mercenaries, and a similar gift to open Longhaven to their trade.”

  “You used their assassins to kill Duke Peter,” Kerrel said softly.

  “Yes,” Hector said. She saw the pain in his face. “It was something I could never do myself, but it became necessary, especially after... well, after he came to the decision that I must be punished for killing my cousin.”

  “So the Vendakar have supported you from the very beginning,” Kerrel said. “Do you think they planned this from the beginning?”

  “I don't know,” Hector said, his voice tired. “Their schemes often run counter to what seems logical. Their Houses, Greater and Lesser, constantly vie for power and position. Who knows their true goals? They gained much wealth from trade with us and from service as my mercenaries and even from the times I needed assassins,” Hector shrugged. “But they'll easily lose that with my decree. I sent messengers out already, to my troops in every town. I'll seize their warehouses and ships and put their emissaries and merchants to death.” Hector gave a grim smile, “They made a mistake in the assumption that they could betray me and get away with it.”

  “Will the Vendakar retaliate?” Kerrel asked. They were famous for their grudges, but also for the fact that they didn't value human life.

  “Let them try,” Hector said. “Their only clear route for invasion is by sea, or through the Great Southern Desert and the mountains in the south. An attack by sea would take a massive effort and any place they try to land, I already have men stationed to prevent Armen raids. Besides, the two houses would have to weaken their own forces in Vendakar in order to attack here, which would result in another House attacking them there.”

  “So what now?” Kerrel asked.

  “Now,” Hector said, “You return to command of your company. You are the hero of the day. Enjoy your victory, celebrate with your troops and your friends. Tomorrow, we return to work.”

  ***

  Aerion Swordbreaker

  Ryft Peaks, Duchy of Masov

  Twenty-Seventh of Tremarn, Cycle 999 Post Sundering

  Aerion stretched stiff muscles in the cool morning air. They'd camped off the old trade road and Aerion realized he had grown used to the comfort of a roof over his head and a straw pallet from back at the refuge. Also, he still wasn't comfortable enough on horseback. He leaned down to touch his toes, and winced as his muscles screamed agony.

  Josef groaned and sat up next to him. “Morning.” The big man gave a sigh, “Is it too late to go back to the valley?”

  Aerion snorted, “Just think, we'll come back from this as heroes. With pay, at that. So you can start saving up for your farm.”

  “Yeah, I suppose. I'm just not so sure about the farm,” His normally calm voice sounded almost anxious.

  “What's wrong?” Aerion asked.

  Josef sat up. He gave a glance over at the sleeping forms of Walker and Quinn. Josef leaned over and spoke in a low voice. “So, you know that Kara and I were getting along well, right?”

  Aerion nodded. “Yeah, at the party.” He vaguely remembered the two had hit it off well. Come to think of it, he thought he remembered them leaving the fire circle together. “You two hit it off well?”

  Josef flushed. The big man looked away. “I really like her, Aerion. She's kind, and thoughtful, and she likes me. And I told her about how killing people made me feel sick... and she didn't make fun of me about it.” Josef's looked back at Aerion and his brown eyes were serious. “Aerion, she said she respected that. Said, even though she's training to fight, she doesn't want to marry someone who likes killing.”

  “She said marry?” Aerion asked. He sat back on his heels. Josef and Kara married was a strange concept. On the one hand, he felt happy for his friend, on the other hand... well on the other hand, Kara's father was Solis, and the big and loud man tended to be rather abrasive.

  “Yes... she did,” Josef said. “But she said, after all this, she wants to start up her own inn, like her father's, but different. She talked about a nice stable, bath house, all sorts of things. And I just wonder...” Josef looked down. “All my life I grew up thinking to work a farm. Even training to fight, that's been my goal. Get money, start my own stake. Clear myself some land and build a farmhouse. Marriage to a farm woman and kids.” Josef sighed. “I just wonder if that's because I didn't dare to dream bigger or if that's what I really want.”

  Aerion put his hand on Josef's shoulder. “My friend... only you can decide what you want. Do you like Kara enough that it appeals to you?”

  “Yes,” Josef nodded. “But I worry that I don't know anything about being an innkeeper. Her father knows sums, organizes the food and supplies for Lady Katarina, even now... how can I match that? What can I give her that someone smarter or better can't? For that matter, she's Starborn and I'm not. She'll outlive me by a long time.”

  Aerion shook his head, “Josef, you're more than good enough
for her. You're brave, you're honest, and you're a good friend.” Aerion looked for the right words. “You've a heart bigger than most men and a wisdom to you that I envy.” He stood up and looked out at the peaks. “As for being Starborn or not, who cares? You two could still have children and it's not like you'll live a shortened life, just not as long as her. For that matter, we might all die fighting Hector before any of us grow old. I say, do what makes you happy. You can be the man she wants and needs, so do it.”

  Josef flushed, “Thanks. You really think I could do that?”

  “It's up to you, Josef,” Aerion said. “But if you think that a life with Kara would be better than a life as a farmer, then I can't see what's wrong with that.” Aerion felt happy for his friend, yet he felt like something had slipped away from him. Josef's affection for Kara was a simple thing, made somewhat more complex by her volatile father, but still something achievable. Aerion smiled at Josef, even as he felt his own unhappiness rise. Josef had at his fingertips something that seemed out of reach for Aerion.

  Josef stood from his blanket, “Well, thanks for the talk. I'm going to go check the horses.” The big man walked away with a purpose in his stride. Aerion felt his smile fade as he watched him go. For all that Josef had encouraged his own attraction, Aerion wished it were that simple. He felt his shoulders sag.

  “How are you this morning, Aerion?” Katarina asked from behind him.

  Aerion straightened, “Very well, my Lady. And yourself?” She had her water-skins tied together and slung over her shoulder, still dripping and wet from the stream, he saw.

  She gave him a smile, “Truth to tell, a bit sore. I haven't ridden that much in weeks.” She gave him a wink “Though if you feel up to it, I understand Gerlin has asked for volunteers to ride out early and scout ahead.”