The Glass Throne (Legends of Ansu Book 4)

by JW Webb

  Bleyne had wanted to investigate further, but worry for prince and crown led him back up to the top of Fallowheld. From there he’d spied the tiny shapes of Zallerak and Tarin drifting along the ribbon of the Great South Way. Nice of them to wait.

  Bleyne had joined them an hour later. When he’d told all he knew, Zallerak had shrugged.

  “Corin will doubtless make for Car Carranis as he intended. Tamersane too, if yet he lives. Nothing we can do about that now.” Bleyne had noted how unconcerned Zallerak appeared. He’d keep both eyes on this warlock, he decided that day.

  And so they’d walked in silence, Bleyne scanning road ahead and bushes either side, Tarin sulking and chewing his lip, and Zallerak striding ahead with hostile glares and intent purpose. They’d camped that first night by the road then pushed on early before dawn crested the slopes parading their east.

  The second day witnessed the walkers repeating their roles as they wandered north along the empty winter road. Then, on finally reaching the edge of Beechborn Forest, Tarin had snapped like a spring breaking free of a wheel.

  “What if that thing comes back? Or more Groil?”

  Zallerak had shrugged, gazing down at the river below. He turned to Bleyne, ignoring the prince. “We need to cross that river before nightfall and enter yonder wood. Beechborn is large, it will hide us until we reach the southern wolds and Atarios.”

  Bleyne nodded. “Silon needs to be informed of the attack on Fallowheld. We need to know what we’re up against.”

  “I know what we’re up against, archer, hence my mood of urgency. Groil and dragon. Master Caswallon has upped his game. Now we’ve two good hours before dusk, so let’s press on!”

  That night Tarin had raged at Zallerak, his former awe of the wizard torn away by dread and fear of what had happened to them on the Fallowheld.

  “How do you know it won’t find us in the forest? And what about those Groil things? Have you got a plan, any ideas at all?”

  “Yes I do, now be silent and go to sleep.”

  “I need some bloody answers, Zallerak! You’ve played me for a fool for too long!”

  “Which is entirely as you deserved. You have a long way to go, Prince Tarin, before you can win back respect from myself or any other. And—lest you forget—you owe me your life. Some gratitude is called for, but if you cannot manage that then keep your lips together.”

  Tarin withdrew to his blanket but decided on one last try, changing tack. “Well, at least tell me what our plans are so I can contribute.”

  “Contribute? You?” Zallerak snorted, and over in the corner Bleyne raised an eyebrow. “Bleyne hunts, keeps us from starving. I …think. I’m currently working these problems through my weary mind. You, prince, can help by shutting the fuck up. But as far as our plans so far, we make for Atarios. From there we will gather news of Queen Ariane, and Caswallon, and alert Silon to petition for more Raleenian aid. I suspect he’s back in Vioyamis by now. Then it’s north into Kelwyn and war. Does that help?”

  Defeated, Tarin had nodded and rolled into his blanket. He wasn’t happy but would let things pass for the meanwhile.

  ***

  General Perani rolled free from his blanket as the sounds of shouting and crackle of flame drove sleep away. The camp was under attack? It beggared belief. But he could hear fighting and men’s death cries in the distance.

  Perani grabbed the candle lamp and threw his cloak across his shoulders to rebuff the cold. Next he strapped his sword belt to his waist and stumbled over to the tent flap. He wrenched open the tent’s canvas doors tearing the buttons off in his fury.

  “What happens?” Perani yelled at a man rushing at him through the night.

  “Riders, my lord! Raiders, they’ve broken into our camp at the south side and put torch to several tents!”

  “Saddle my horse!” Perani raged at his aide who had just stumbled bleary-eyed into view. “Quickly man!” Within minutes Perani was astride his mare and guiding the beast through his camp amid shouting, chaos, and clash of distant steel.

  But despite his speed Perani was too late arriving. The raiders had struck fast and faded like ghosts into the night. They’d left over a hundred dead, stolen forty horses, and set fire to over a dozen tents. Perani, raging and shaking in fury, was greeted by his second, Gonfalez, a note clutched in his gloved hand.

  “They left this,” the heavy-set Gonfalez told him, passing a scrunched piece of parchment into his fist. Perani smoothed the parchment flat and studied the contents, whilst his second steered close and held a torch for the general to see. It read thus:

  Perani

  This was but a courtesy call. We will be back for more serious work soon.

  Tarello

  “Who is this bastard?” Perani growled at Gonfalez who glared back at him through the gaps in his helm. Behind them men were rushing and putting out the flames still blazing through some of the tents.

  “Queen Ariane’s new warlord,” Gonfalez barked back. “One of the ‘heroes’ of Calprissa. This Tarello has taken the war to us, general. Caswallon will not stand for this!”

  “Caswallon doesn’t need to know, Captain.” Perani glared at his second. Like Derino before him, Gonfalez was ambitious, and Caswallon made it very clear you were only as good as your last job. Thus Perani’s hand was forced and his customary cautiousness abandoned. “We will deal with this Tarello bastard swiftly and then put an end to Ariane’s little army. It is time for direct action.”

  “Caswallon’s spy said for us to hold fast in this camp and let the Groil flush out the rebels.”

  “The Groil are fucking useless! They failed at Calprissa and they will fail in Kelwyn. They’re good for scaring smallfolk and eating peasants, but when it comes to real fighting they lack discipline and imagination. These bastard Kelwynians have proved both more resilient and smarter than I expected. Ariane is headstrong, so I believed she would fall into our hands at Wynais. She hasn’t taken the bait. Someone—maybe this Tarello—held enough sway to caution her otherwise. We have underestimated the situation, Captain. Now we need to act fast to gain the upper hand again.”

  “What do you propose, General?”

  “We break camp and ride south at first light. I’ll send a small unit to aid the garrison at Wynais, but that city can look after itself now the troublemakers are dealt with and Tolranna knows his orders.” Perani scrunched the parchment into a ball and sent it flying into nearby torchlight.

  “The army moves south, Gonfalez. We will flush out this Tarello and his queenling inside a month. Time we finished this. Caswallon can have Ariane, but I will roast Tarello over slow coals—that I vow!”

  Gonfalez didn’t reply. Later he bid an aide write Caswallon coded message via bird, informing him of Perani’s latest decision. It paid to keep in with the top draw, just in case Perani got it wrong.

  Scarce three hours later, Perani’s entire force (bar the three hundred guardsmen he sent to Wynais and a skeleton crew left at the camp) had crossed the River Kelphalos and was hastening south towards the Great South Road, having received rumours that Ariane’s rebels were now stationed within Elglavis Wood south of Wynais.

  ***

  “They’re on the move!” Valentin watched with spy-glass in hand as the horde from Kelthaine swarmed down the Great South Way.

  “How many?” Arac stood beside his leader as they watched from the hills flanking Elglavis Wood.

  “Hard to say, perhaps twenty thousand.” Valentin slung the scope in his belt and slapped the archer’s shoulders. “We need to alert Ariane soonest. Failing that, maybe we can draw them away from the wood, buying time for the queen to spring the trap. Take Lusty, the boys, and Doodle McNoodle and go find the queen. I’ll keep watch on our friends.”

  Arac nodded and swiftly departed to grab the Ranger’s newest recruit.

  “Where are we going?” Doyle asked him as Arac tossed over a flask of water.

  “To find your queen,” the Ranger grinned. “We’ve a busy fe
w days ahead.“

  “Oh, good,” Doyle managed as he struggled onto his horse, his face pale and worried.

  “Cheer up, Doodle!” Arac grinned at him. “We Rangers revel at fighting, it’s what we do best!”

  ***

  “They’ve taken the bait.” Tarello led his fifty riders down from the hills south of the Kelphalos River. “Looks like the whole army’s on the move. Guess I must have pissed Perani off,” he grinned at his companion rider.

  Jaan didn’t grin back. “We were lucky, Tarello. They won’t be caught off guard again. And now Perani will hunt us down like a raging bear in springtime. And for what? A few slain enemy and several burnt tents?”

  Tarello was unswayed by Jaan’s opinion. “We struck the first blow. Perani’s pride is dented, and Caswallon, when he finds out, will not be happy. It’s a psychological masterstroke, Jaan.”

  “Let’s hope we don’t pay for it later today.” The Raleenian spurred his horse faster as did Tarello beside him. It was already afternoon when they reached Ariane at her camp deep inside Elglavis Wood. They found the queen seated on a log drinking piping tea while a rangy archer and a younger man addressed her.

  Ariane glanced their way as Tarello and Jaan dismounted and ordered their men go eat and see to the horses.

  “Looks like you’ve stirred up a hornet’s nest,” Ariane smiled wolfishly. “Well done gentlemen. We now have at least twenty thousand comprising Perani’s entire former Tiger Regiment hurrying our way.”

  “You said to get his attention.” Unperturbed, Tarello flashed her a grin. Close to the queen, Squire Galed was fretting that they should be breaking camp and moving while they had the chance.

  To his right sat a smaller figure, his young face flushed with excitement. So far this warrior life was suiting Cale well. His studies had been postponed. Instead he’d been working on his sword and knife skills. He’d wanted to accompany Tarello (whom he admired) and Jaan (whom he was slightly nervous of) on their bold venture and had been a bit grumpy when the queen put her foot down. But now Cale was beaming at the likelihood of the big battle coming their way.

  But Cale’s optimism was shared by few surrounding the queen. Most voiced Jaan’s view that the raid had been rash and had brought the full fury of Kelthaine down on them before they were ready to withstand it.

  Ariane was undaunted. She’d received word via pigeon from Vioyamis. Silon had persuaded the castellan of Atarios to send a thousand lancers north, all hungry, apparently, to avenge their comrades who fell at Calprissa. Jaan was delighted hearing this news as was his friend Tarello.

  “A thousand Raleenians!” Tarello slapped Cale’s back as he took seat on another log by the campfire. “We’ll send Perani packing, master Cale. And lancers too!” Tarello flashed a grin at Jaan.

  “A thousand Raleenians,” Ariane repeated slowly. “We have, what? Three thousand in our entire force: mostly volunteers from around the country, recruits from farms, veterans of Calprissa, and those lucky few that escaped from Wynais.

  “Jaan’s men are few and Valentin’s Rangers only comprise four hundred - that against a force of twenty thousand professional warriors renowned for their savagery and ruthlessness. And that’s without including the Groil still at large in their hundreds roaming throughout my kingdom. Let us not get carried away, gentlemen, nor should we seek to take on Perani in the open.”

  “What do you propose, my Queen?” Tarello chewed tenaciously at a sausage and wiped his mouth. The raid had been hungry work and they hadn’t eaten since.

  “We ride forth with enough men to lure Perani south and away from our camp. We keep ahead of him but close enough to goad him on. We’ll make sure Atarios knows Perani’s moving south, so at some point we can liaise with the lancers to meet up and turn about, striking Perani hard, then breaking free before he can throw his entire army against us. Guerrilla tactics, gentlemen. That is how we will win this war.”

  Later Galed sat alone with Cale and the queen. Tarello and Jaan and their men were snatching sleep whilst Valentin’s Rangers (who had arrived at dusk) kept watch on Perani’s movements. Latest word was that the Kelthaine army was camped ten miles north of Elglavis Wood. Doubtless they would break camp at dawn and sweep into the forest hoping to catch Ariane unawares and annihilate her smaller army.

  Galed watched Ariane as she poked the fire with a stick, her dark eyes fierce with concentration. “You’ve come a long way, my Queen,” Galed told her. “Your father would be so proud.”

  “I hope so.” Ariane dropped the stick and looked up, a single tear glinting beneath her left eye. She still so missed her father. She missed Corin an Fol too, and Barin and the others. Tarello and Jaan were good men, and Galed her dear friend. But they were not legends like her father had been, or like Barin and Corin were becoming. “I often wonder what he would do were he here.”

  “Everyone loves you.” Cale’s face was flushed redder than normal. “You are the best queen in the world.”

  “And you’ve known many, young sir.” Ariane cuffed Cale’s curly head. “But thanks for your support.”

  When Tarello and Jaan returned from their rests Ariane held brief campfire council, announcing she would lead a force of fifteen hundred riders out of Elglavis Wood. There were protestations at her leading this fleeing army but she waved them down.

  “Perani needs to know I’m running from him. That way he’ll throw his full force against us and will let Elglavis alone. Tarello and Jaan will accompany me, as will Galed and Cale.” (The latter beamed hearing this.) “We are hares before wolves.”

  “Tigers,” Tarello cut in.

  “Tigers.” Ariane smiled. “Those tigers are no match for our crafty hares. And,” she added, “While we are keeping Perani occupied I’ve a task for you Rangers.” The hard-faced Valentin nodded from across the campfire. The chief Ranger joined her whilst Arac and crew kept watch on the enemy.

  “Name it.”

  “I want you to retake Wynais under cover of night. Are your boys up to such a task, Captain?“

  Valentin grinned nastily. “It’s what we do best, my Queen.”

  An hour before dawn, Arac and a puffing Doyle crashed in upon a dozing Ariane and Galed, still both at the campfire.

  “They’re on the move!” Arac yelled, “heading for the forest!”

  An hour later, Perani whooped in delight when his scouts announced that riders led by the queen herself were fleeing the woods, making southwest for the road. The chase was on and the little queen’s short reign nearly over. With a roar, Perani ordered his captains bid their men turn about and resume their march along the Great South Way.

  ***

  About this time, in a musty tavern in the shady side of Atarios, a quiet figure in the corner watched and listened as he sipped his rough brandy through parched lips. Watching and listening had kept him alive these last few weeks, that and the odd bit of throat slitting and coin pilfering.

  His body still ached from the beating he’d got down south, but his head burned with vengeful schemes that kept him strong, and more importantly, alive.

  Hagan smiled as he listened to the soldiers talking discreetly in the tavern. They were Raleenian lancers and they were heading north tomorrow to go assist the beleaguered queen of Kelwyn.

  But it wasn’t this news that concerned Hagan. He couldn’t give a toss about Queen Ariane, having had more than enough from her at Kashorn harbour three months ago. It was their other gossip that kept Hagan’s ears pricked.

  “Dragon,” the older lancer muttered. “Can you believe it?”

  “Sounds like tosh.” His friend gulped at his tankard and yelled the innkeep for another. “It attacked this warlock on the Fallowheld? Sounds like total bollocks to me.”

  “Me too, Garral, but I heard that tosser prince talking to the castellan. I heard other things too. Guard duty was uncommonly interesting last night.”

  “Weren’t you sworn to secrecy?” Garral sipped his whiskey, not overly happy that Zane w
as telling him all this. But his young friend was full of conspiracies this evening.

  “Just us here.” Neither man had taken time to notice the hard-eyed figure in the dark corner furthest from the fire and half hidden by a pole. They were soldiers in their own city, confident and proud—particularly the younger one. “Besides,” Zane continued, “the prince blurted it out so loud anyone within a mile could have heard.”

  “Heard what?”

  “They have the crown, Garral. The fucking Tekara. All repaired and good as new. I reckon that Caswallon’s in trouble now.” Hagan had frozen hearing that. So that’s why everyone had been so excited down there in the desert. Prince Tarin alive and well and hanging out with this foreign wizard, and him having reforged the crown down in Permio! Hagan hadn’t had much time to focus on events beneath the mountains. It had taken all his concentration to stay alive during that unfortunate visit. He tuned his ears harder to the men seated by the fireplace.

  “Things are happening, Garral.” Zane had the upbeat confidence only the young and unworldly possess. His companion was more reticent.

  “So are they taking it to Queen Ariane?” Garral washed the brandy around his mouth; he had a head cold and the strong liquid warmed his shivers. “Sounds a bit daft. I mean, are this wizard and the prince coming with us in the morning?“

  “I don’t know,” Zane grinned, “but why would they stay in Atarios when there’s a war going on up north?”

  “But won’t they need someone to wear the Tekara? I mean, a crown without a king is pretty useless. And I don’t see any potential kings stepping up to quarrel with Caswallon. You’ve heard the stories from Kella, Zane. It’s bad up there.”

  “Maybe this wizard bloke knows somebody. Look, it’s got to be good news hasn’t it? Cheer up, Garral. Caswallon’s had it easy up till now. But now we have sorcery back-up too.“

  “The only thing I know about sorcery is to stay as far from it as I can. Come on, we need to get back or you’ll drink too much and feel shit in the morning. It’s a long ride to Kelwyn. Wizards can’t change that.”