Suddenly Captain Silas and his dogged troops erupted in shouts of defiance, their whirling swords bearing down on Drogin’s astonished men as some turned around to face the surprise assault. Torr and his men broke into smiles of triumph, and with their hope renewed, continued their attack on the enemy now from both directions. Soon their adversaries were overwhelmed in this one tiny piece of the war, though the greater conflict continued to churn away like a violent storm. Yet despite some minor injuries, for a brief moment Captain Silas, Ranen, Torr and their fellow combatants savored a small victory near the edge of the blue lake waters, their spirit and confidence bolstered.
But their jubilation was short lived.
Ranen’s smile slowly disappeared when he glanced north up the lakeshore. His heart froze and his fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword. Captain Silas and a few others couldn’t help but notice the swift change in his demeanor.
“What troubles you?” he asked, looking in the same direction. But he didn’t need a response from Ranen, instantly seeing the problem for himself.
Slowly drifting down the lake and hugging the western shoreline were dozens of wooden rafts that presumably had been made near the north tip of the lake by their allies from the kingdom of Altaga. Captain Silas hadn’t expected to see any of those rafts after Irabesh claimed that Drogin had sent troops to confront and defeat them. But now the rafts had shown up anyway, each one loaded with soldiers, some heading for the shoreline, others to the docks and several more toward the tall ships. What shocked him most, however, was that all the vessels bore the flag of Drogin. The dreary banners in shades of orange, black and brown fluttered in the breeze as the soldiers diligently paddled the rafts to their designated landing points.
Ranen sighed as he glanced at the others, rubbing his neck as a wave of lethargy swept over his aching body. “Well, I guess we have another battle or two on our hands,” he remarked, watching the rafts draw nearer. “Only question is–which one do we go to first?”
Ramsey, in the meantime, hiked along the edge of the eastern woods with William and Aaron trailing him like shadows. William explained how Bosh had kidnapped them with information supplied by Nyla. He sadly admitted that he had revealed King Basil’s war plans because Bosh had threatened Aaron’s life. Aaron excitedly detailed their clever escape from the barn early yesterday morning.
“We were lost in the woods for a time since we didn’t want to stay on the road for fear of being captured,” William continued. “We accidentally overslept after stopping by a stream to have a bite to eat. Just before twilight, we emerged near a large field filled with soldiers from Maranac, Kargoth and the Northern Isles and realized we had been traveling in the wrong direction.”
“You saw the very troops we’re battling now,” Ramsey said.
“Needless to say, we crept back into the woods and turned north, heading in this direction as quickly as we could, even traveling at night until we couldn’t take another step because of hunger and exhaustion.” William shook his head, feeling he had made a complete shambles of the situation. “By the time we arrived here this morning, the war had already started. Had I been better armed with more than a dagger, I would have joined you on the battlefield, though what good I would have done is debatable.”
“You saved my life, Will, and perhaps that is what fate had in store for you,” Ramsey said. “Now it is my turn to help you get to King Basil’s estate and expose Nyla and her cohorts.”
“Thank you,” he softly replied, still upset about what he had told Bosh. He wondered if he had made the right decision now that war swirled about them. Maybe by sacrificing his and Aaron’s lives he could have prevented the current bedlam now raging around them.
“You made a choice you thought was best,” Ramsey assured him in a fatherly manner. “No one will fault you for that. And even if you hadn’t said anything to Bosh, chances are that this war would still be fought, only perhaps farther south and across the lake. Blood was going to be shed regardless. But we can debate that later,” he said as he slowed down and made for the edge of the trees. “I think I see what we need.”
“What?” Aaron whispered, fearing that they were about to step onto the field of battle and face Drogin’s troops that instant.
“A horse,” Ramsey replied. “Several, in fact. We must move fast while this section of the tree line is free of the enemy.”
They stepped out onto a grassy spot where five stray horses had gathered away from the fighting to feed on the sparse vegetation and calm their frazzled nerves. Ramsey smiled at their good fortune and climbed on one of the steeds and held out a hand to boost Aaron up so he could ride behind him. Prince William mounted another horse and soon the trio sped off, keeping in the thinning shadows of the tree line as they galloped northward. But moments later the sound of other rumbling horse hooves reverberated through the ground behind them and to their left, growing closer by the second. Ramsey feared they had been spotted by one of Drogin’s men. As he shot a backward glance, his troubled heart settled when he recognized a familiar face. He slowed down, signaling for William to do likewise.
“I had lost sight of you near the woods earlier while I was fighting elsewhere,” Eucádus called out as his horse approached his friend’s steed. “And by then I–” He suddenly went silent when recognizing the two figures who were riding with Ramsey. An ecstatic grin filled his face.
“I’m delighted to see you again as well,” William said before he was forced to give an even speedier version of the events that had happened to him and Aaron over the last few days.
“Then onward to the King’s estate–and swiftly!” Eucádus cried as their horses again took flight. “I will ride with you to the end of this tree line so I may briefly view the events along Lake LaShear. Your way to the estate will be unhindered past that point as the clash with Drogin’s southern forces has remained confined to this field. We are giving them a harder fight than I guess they suspected. Now my heart will be less troubled when I return to battle knowing that you are both safe.”
“But Irabesh said there is another mass of soldiers waiting behind the first line,” Ramsey reminded him. “So be on the lookout.”
“I will!” Eucádus promised as he reined his horse to a stop as the trees to his right thinned out and the lake appeared in view. The other two steeds galloped onward at full speed, growing smaller against the horizon. “And may we meet again soon,” he whispered to himself after they disappeared like a swift breeze.
Eucádus gazed across the sparkling waters of Lake LaShear in the near distance. He viewed the frenetic movement of troops along the shore and heard the faint echoes of deadly battle, yet couldn’t be sure where the balance of power had shifted from this single glance. But when he looked to the northeast, his jaw slowly dropped as he witnessed the steady flow of rafts that Ranen was also observing at that same moment. He noted with dismay the colors of Drogin’s flags that appeared like a cluster of dark, ominous eyes floating upon the water. His spirits, for a moment standing upon joyous heights because of William and Aaron’s safe return, now plummeted at the heartbreaking sight. Eucádus knew that this day was not even close to being over. With a deep and troubled sigh, he turned around and charged headlong back into battle.
CHAPTER 66
The Second Wave
Eucádus galloped into a whirlwind of combat shortly after he had left Ramsey, William and Aaron. Foot soldiers from Kargoth had regrouped near the western trees and charged eastward where Jeremias and his men had just finished battling a dozen Islanders. Eucádus, sensing his friends’ exhaustion and seeing they would soon be outnumbered, quickly rounded up as many riders as he could to crash through the storm heading their way.
Moments later, beneath blue skies peppered with drifting white clouds, he and ten men from King Basil’s ranks directed their horses south into the maelstrom. They attacked the enemy from the saddle, bringing down their blades with harsh sweeps and deadly thrusts upon their bewildered opponents who now had to com
bat both skilled horsemen and those on foot.
“Better late than never!” Jeremias called out when Eucádus flew by on his steed and took down a tall soldier from Kargoth. The vague, gray cloudiness in the dying man’s eyes faded away as his body collapsed upon the sun-soaked ground.
“One less stinger gnat!” he quipped.
Jeremias glanced at the dead soldier before moving on, nearly convinced that he was looking at a different man than the one who tried to attack him moments ago. The native of Kargoth now seemed at peace with himself and the world. Jeremias wondered if the person had fully realized where he had been or what he had been doing these last several days in the moments before he died, all because of Vellan’s handiwork.
“Look out!” Eucádus shouted to Jeremias and a captain from Rhiál who were raising swords together against a trio of enemy soldiers. A fourth man from Drogin’s army bounded toward them from behind, his dagger poised to strike.
Jeremias spun around and boldly charged at the surprised attacker and killed him with a single stroke of his blade, freeing the man from Vellan’s mesmerizing grip. At that moment, one of the three enemy fighters broke away and darted toward Jeremias with revenge on his mind, but Jeremias expected as much. He swooped down, grabbed the dead man’s dagger and flung it at the Kargoth soldier, hitting him squarely in the chest. The wounded man froze for an instant as if he had crashed into an invisible wall. He reeled backward several steps, teetering on the verge of collapse. But a passionate devotion to Vellan sustained him for a few more fleeting moments. With crazed bravado, he gripped the knife and yanked it from his body, preparing to launch it back with his remaining strength. But Jeremias leaped up at that moment, wildly charged and plunged his sword into the enemy, killing him on the spot.
When he looked up, his face sweaty and caked with dust, he watched as a rider accompanying Eucádus slew the remaining soldier battling the captain from Rhiál. Moments earlier, the captain himself had conquered the other one with two swift strokes to his foe’s shoulder and midsection. But despite the arrival of Eucádus and his men, Jeremias realized there was no time to rest after this small victory. More soldiers from Kargoth zeroed in on them. He shifted sideways to avoid a charging horse that brushed past and then ran back toward the skirmish. But as the dust settled, his pounding heart froze at the sight unfolding in the near distance.
As fighting continued on both foot and horseback amid a clamor of bloody blades and harsh cries, Irabesh suddenly appeared against the chaotic background. He slowly rode in on his black steed, a bow and arrow poised at the ready. An unsuspecting Eucádus, busily engaged in combat, was targeted in his line of sight. Jeremias, running in full stride and without a moment to spare, reached the side of his friend’s horse and leaped up, grabbing Eucádus by the arm and pulling him off just as Irabesh’s arrow was released. Eucádus tumbled over the side, losing his sword but still clutching onto the reins.
He jumped to his feet at once, rattled but unscathed, surprised to see Jeremias lying on the ground on his side. He wondered what his friend had just done to him and why. The blood in Eucádus’ veins grew cold and his mind reeled when his eyes locked onto the orange, brown and black feather fletching at the end of the arrow protruding from Jeremias’ back. The young man slowly looked up at Eucádus, his eyes glassy, his face pale. He whispered two words with passion.
“Get him.”
The request from his dying friend hit Eucádus hard. When he looked up and saw Irabesh drawing closer and reaching for a second arrow from his quiver, he understood what his friend wished of him.
“I will,” he whispered back, his emotions in check until he grabbed his sword on the trampled grass. Eucádus sprang toward Irabesh, crying out like a crazed madman while still holding onto Chestnut’s reins.
Irabesh saw the ferocious zeal in Eucádus’ eyes as if the charging man were a wild beast that couldn’t be stopped. He abandoned his bow and pulled a sword from its sheath, raising it just as Eucádus barreled down upon him, swinging his blade through the air while controlling Chestnut with the other hand. Their swords clashed with deathly force, again and again as other battles raged around them.
“You’ll join your dead comrades when I topple you from that horse,” Eucádus uttered with contempt. As Irabesh looked down with haughty confidence, Eucádus stepped adroitly about him. Their swords danced in the warming autumn air as the sun climbed higher in the southern sky.
“You will be joining your friend!” Irabesh replied, his clouded eyes looking down like death itself.
But Eucádus only grew more incensed with Irabesh’s smug attitude and his slavish devotion to Vellan. As their cold blades continued to cross, Eucádus recognized the hatred each of them had for the other, yet when he looked into his enemy’s dull eyes, he sensed nothing from Irabesh but an irrational loathing and an unquenchable lust for power. He knew that he couldn’t let this man win, not after what he had done to Jeremias or what evil he was planning on Vellan’s behalf throughout Laparia.
“Let’s put an end to this now!” Irabesh bellowed. “You know your side cannot win. The second wave is on its way.”
“Whether we win or not is yet to be decided,” Eucádus said between deep, long-held breaths as he battled on, swinging his sword yet being blocked by Irabesh at every stroke. “But I agree on one point–it’s time to end this!”
After forcefully striking Irabesh’s blade one last time, causing his foe to lean back upon impact, Eucádus swiftly took a step backward. He loosened his hold on Chestnut’s reins and shouted at the horse. The steed suddenly reared up on its hind legs just as Irabesh extended his arm forward and sliced his sword through the air. Chestnut’s right hoof struck Irabesh’s wrist and shattered it, knocking the sword from his hand. Irabesh grabbed the injured arm to his chest and cried out in pain, his head snapping back as he gazed up at the sky in blistering agony. Eucádus lunged forward and thrust his sword upward through his opponent’s midsection with all his might. Irabesh felt the paralyzing sting of cold metal shoot through him and repeatedly gasped for a breath of air that wouldn’t fill his lungs. His head fell heavily forward to his chest and he looked helplessly at Eucádus, his expression neither smug nor bitter nor remorseful, but simply one of utter disbelief.
Eucádus, sweating and breathing heavily, gazed at Irabesh with disgust before ripping his sword out of the man with a swift stroke, sending him sliding off his horse to the cold ground. As the life quickly drained out of his adversary, he watched Irabesh’s eyes slowly begin to clear and his tight facial features soften ever slightly.
“The second wave…” Irabesh whispered, his voice hoarse and defiant to the very end. “They are…on their way.” His eyes closed for the last time as death overtook him less than a mile from King Basil’s estate.
“And we’ll be waiting,” Eucádus replied before hurrying over to Jeremias who lay on the ground close to death.
Eucádus gripped his friend’s hand and stroked his cold forehead. The two horses standing nearby partially shielded them from the sights and sounds of the fighting, but for the moment, neither man seemed aware that warfare raged around them. Jeremias looked up, his light brown eyes losing their luster as he resigned himself to death. He tried to smile as the pain slowly faded from his body. Eucádus smiled back, his heart breaking as he looked upon the dying man who had led the Fox Clearing with distinction, the youngest of the five leaders.
“Tell my dear Rebecca…that I love her,” he whispered with great effort, his throat dry as he tried to swallow. “That I will always love her.”
“I will,” Eucádus replied, pillowing Jeremias’ head in his hand. “That is a promise, my friend.”
“I’ll wait for her in the afterworld and…”
Jeremias said no more, his eyelids slowly closing as a final breath left his body. Eucádus looked upon him grief-stricken and gently let his head rest upon the ground, yet a growing anger simmered inside that would erupt as soon as he rejoined the battle. He l
ooked up wearily at his horse and forced himself to his feet, reluctant to rejoin the fray but knowing he must as the din and clamor of war again registered in his ears. A nearby clash of swords caught his eyes and he automatically unsheathed his weapon, prepared to do his part amid such crushing sorrow. Protecting Jeremias’ body from the onslaught of battle would have to wait. Something else then caught his attention. Eucádus looked south toward the low ridge less than a half mile away.
As if life were replaying itself from the moment when the heavy, white fog lifted this morning, there again upon the crest between the east and west tree lines were several long rows of soldiers upon horseback, one behind the other. The drab flags of King Drogin were scattered among them and waved tauntingly in the breeze. Behind the horse lines were countless rows of foot soldiers, mere specks against the sun-soaked backdrop, but armed and at the ready as they slowly advanced as a single unit. Eucádus sighed in despair as did all the other soldiers in King Basil’s army scattered across the field. The forces of Drogin, however, stayed their swords momentarily and cheered on the new army’s arrival, confident that victory was close at hand.
Eucádus couldn’t help thinking so as well, knowing that the second wave of enemy fighters both on the field and floating down Lake LaShear would be impossible to counter with their remaining forces. He glanced down at Jeremias’ body, suddenly doubting that he would ever get the chance to relay his friend’s final heartfelt message to his wife. That, of all things occurring on this dreadful day, hurt Eucádus the most as a tear rolled down his cheek in the harsh sunlight of early afternoon.
William, in the meantime, arrived at King Basil’s estate with Ramsey and Aaron. Soldiers were stationed behind the low, stone wall surrounding the building and at the front gate. The appearance of the two horses and their riders caused an immediate stir. Most were aware of William and Aaron’s disappearance and many had participated in the search parties along the docks. The three visitors were allowed through the gate immediately, though the captain in charge was eager to know where the two boys had been, relieved to see them alive and well. It was a refreshing bit of news against the backdrop of fighting along the lake, though many expected the battle to sweep this way soon now that enemy reinforcements had arrived.
Nicholas Raven and the Wizards' Web (The Complete Epic Fantasy) Page 106
