The Squire

by James Wisher

  “Col?” Ged said when he got close enough.

  “They found us. About a mile up the road I found a dozen boarmen waiting in ambush.”

  “Only a dozen?”

  Col shook his head. Clearly Ged had never seen what a single boarman could do. “I promise you a dozen is twice as many as they need to kill us all. We need to move off the road, swing around the ambush. Is there anywhere we can hole up? Somewhere defensible?”

  Ged shook his head. “I don’t know this area well. I’ve been up and down the road dozens of times, but I never explored the woods.”

  “I know a place.” Hal joined them at the head of the line. “There are caves near the river, that way.” He pointed northeast.

  “Big enough to hold everyone?” Col asked.

  He shook his head. “I’m not sure. Colt and I were kids when we found them. They seemed big at the time, but a kid’s idea of big and an adult’s aren’t the same.”

  Col looked at Ged. “We don’t have another choice. If we can hide for a day, maybe they’ll go hunt up another group; there’s bound to be more survivors hiding out somewhere.”

  Ged chewed his lip. Col didn’t know what he was thinking about, the options were about as bleak as possible: die now or run, hide, and probably die later. “All right, we’ll go to the caves. I hate to leave the road, but I don’t see any other choice.”

  “I’ll go ahead and check them out.” Col turned to Hal. “Can you lead the others?”

  “I remember the way.”

  Col looked for Rain and spotted her watching from a little ways away. He wanted to offer some sort of reassurance, but he had nothing.

  * * *

  Col found the river first, if a four-foot-wide ten-inch-deep trickle counted as a river. He followed it half a mile before the banks sloped upward and turned into a rocky ravine. If there were any caves they had to be in this area. He climbed a rough, steep trail. How they’d get the injured up it he’d figure out later.

  Along the trail he found a pile of stones. He bent down for a closer look. It appeared like someone had piled the rocks up on purpose. He took the pile apart and on the bottom stone found an engraving of a pair of crossed swords. His eyes widened. That was the symbol of the Knights of Corinthia, he’d looked at it every day for the past six years over the entryway to their hall.

  He replaced the stones and continued on. What had the order hidden out in the middle of nowhere? Whatever it was Col hoped it would help him get out of this mess. The path never went in a straight line and climbed all the time. He kept his eyes open for another rock pile and found it a couple hundred yards from the first marker. He didn’t bother checking this time, instead he kept moving on the assumption he was still on the right path.

  At the end of the trail a waterfall thundered down a steep cliff, behind it the broken outline of a cave. Colt’s brother hadn’t mentioned a waterfall, so this might not be the right cave, but he’d seen no others so he kept going. The waterfall chilled him and soaked him to the bone when he stepped through. Carved into the wall he found another pair of crossed swords. Something warmed his chest. When he pulled out Sir Geris’s amulet, it was glowing. In response the crossed swords glowed. Deeper into the cave another marker burst to life.

  Col followed a rough path deeper into the cave. Every hundred yards another marker flared to life. Some time in the past a lightcaster must have enchanted the markings to guide anyone with a medallion. Would the bronze squire’s medallion he still wore have been enough? Since it wasn’t reacting he had to assume it wouldn’t have. Did Sir Geris know about this tunnel? He never mentioned it, though it might have been one of those secrets they only revealed to full members of the knighthood.

  Yet another marker came to life, and the trail sloped up. He must be getting close to whatever the order hid out here. By the Light he hoped it would be enough to save everyone. At the end of the tunnel he found an old set of wooden stairs. Col slung his bow over his shoulder and drew his sword. At the top of the steps he entered a room lit by more of the magical lights. It appeared to be an officer’s chamber. A bed sat against one wall and a cupboard against another, a thick layer of dust covering everything. He sheathed his sword. Nothing had been here in a long time.

  A simple wooden door led out of the room and into a hall lined with doors. Col checked the first room and found two rows of bunk beds. The next room held swords, spears and crossbows, all old, but they appeared to be in working order. This place felt like an army barracks.

  At the end of the hall he came to yet another door, this one led into a large open courtyard. A few small, scrubby pine trees had grown up over the years. The wall of sharpened logs looked sturdy enough.

  He climbed a set of stairs up to the walkway that circled the wall. He looked out over an expanse of forest that stretched as far as he could see in every direction. How they’d kept the kill zone around the fort from growing up Col had no idea, but he was glad they’d managed it. All the trees looked mature so he couldn’t guess how long ago the knights had built the fortress, perhaps during the last beastman invasion two hundred years ago, maybe longer ago than that. It was clear lightcasters had spent a good deal of time warding the fort for it to have withstood the test of time so well.

  One thing was certain; if he could get the others here it would make a good place to hole up for a while. And, if those crossbows worked it would be a good place to kill some beastmen.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Wow. Did you know this was here?” Rain asked. They stood together in the yard along with the other stunned refugees. The others gaped at the keep and the walls. She figured they’d never been in a fort before, much less a castle like where she grew up.

  Col shook his head. From his expression he clearly had no idea. Of course, she was technically the ruler of the country and she’d had no idea either. It was becoming clear to Rain just how little she knew about her country and its people. Had her parents tried to teach her or had they not bothered, thinking her either too stupid or uninterested? In their defense she had been uninterested. If her father had tried to tell her about a hidden fort in the middle of the wilderness she would have yawned and tried to stay awake.

  “Rain!” Judging from his tone Col must have been trying to get her attention for a while. “Ged wants to talk. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  Col went to talk to the leader of the refugees and with nothing better to do Rain joined him. “It’s a miracle you found this place,” Ged said.

  “Dumb luck is more like it. We’re safe for the moment, but it’s a temporary fix. We’ll either run out of food or the beastmen will find us before long.”

  “You’re not much of an optimist, are you?” Ged smiled and shook his head.

  “I’m a realist. And the reality is we were getting low on food before we arrived. I have no idea what we have left, but if it’s more than a week’s worth I’d be surprised.”

  Mara came over and joined them. “Three days.”

  “Excuse me, dear?”

  “We’ve got food enough for three days, five if we cut back to two meals a day.”

  Ged looked like his stomach hurt. “I thought we had more.” He turned to Col, almost pleading. That look said everything about how little leadership experience Ged had. If a teenage boy looked like the best hope he had, he must be desperate indeed.

  Col scrubbed his hand across his face and Rain smiled. She’d seen him do that often enough to realize he had an idea. She just hoped it was a good one.

  “Alright. We need to cut back on the food. I’ll check the weapons and teach everyone strong enough how to use the crossbows. Two days from now I’ll head out to find the beastmen.” Col took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. “And I’ll lead them back here.”

  Ged and Mara raised their voices to object, but Col raised his hands. “Let me finish. We can’t leave the fort until we eliminate the beastmen. When we’re ready I’ll lead them here and everyone will open up on them with t
he crossbows. We kill them until there are none left alive or they run. If none of them come back we leave by the tunnel and make our way to Dorrik’s keep as fast as we can.”

  “Is that the only way?” Ged asked. “We aren’t warriors.”

  “Fight or starve my friend, your choice.” Col clapped him on the shoulder. “Relax, I could even teach Rain to shoot a crossbow with reasonable accuracy in a day. I’m sure you and your friends can learn just as well.”

  Col left a slumped, defeated-looking Ged standing in the yard and headed toward the keep. Rain trotted over to him. “Can you teach me to shoot a crossbow?”

  “Sure. Point it at your target and pull the trigger. A few hours’ practice and you should be able to hit a beastman. In a year you might be a master.”

  “I want to learn.”

  “What?” Col stopped and turned to look at her.

  “I want to learn how to fight. I’m sick of being the helpless princess that needs rescuing.”

  Col’s eyes narrowed for a moment then he nodded. “You can train with the others, but when the beastmen come I don’t want you on the wall.”

  “Why? If I can help…”

  Col looked around to make sure no one was close enough to overhear. “Because if a stray javelin or even a rock hits you all this will have been for nothing. Saving these people is important, but if you die it’s all for nothing.”

  Rain looked away. He had a point, but she hated to admit it. Rather than argue she said, “What if they come through the tunnel?”

  “We should be so lucky. Two men and a boy could defend that narrow entrance. In fact, I intend to put a couple of the old men in place to watch it.”

  Col continued on toward the keep and Rain watched him go. He seemed confident, like he knew what to do. What would it be like if Callion were here in his place?

  * * *

  Zarrin walked through the crude prison the beastmen had built in the castle basement. They’d herded several hundred prisoners in the cells and every few days they picked half a dozen to roast for the day’s meal. The darkcaster liked to walk through the dank chambers every day or two to soak up the despair and pain of the prisoners, the bleak emotions nourishing him in a way food and drink no longer could.

  “Release me this instant!”

  Zarrin stopped and turned toward a whiny, demanding voice. It had to belong to a noble, though he’d thought they’d all died in the initial assault. He followed the voice deeper into the dungeon until he found a slender youth attempting to fight off the wolfman that had selected him to be part of the night’s meal. One look at the smooth skin and straight teeth and Zarrin recognized the boy for a noble.

  “Leave that one alone for now,” Zarrin said. What prompted him to spare the boy, instinct, intuition perhaps? H recognized the feeling and had learned to trust it over the years. “Put him in a cell by himself.”

  The wolfman nodded and got a hold of the boy’s hair. The massive beastman yanked the slender youth out of the cage without difficulty.

  “Do you know who I am?” the boy said. “With the royal family dead my father is next in line to be king.”

  Zarrin would have smiled if his host body still had lips. “To be a king requires a country. I’ve smashed this one beyond repair. Not to mention the princess survived. Still, perhaps I should pay your father a visit next, just to be certain. What’s your name?”

  The boy must have realized what he was talking to because he tried to shy away from Zarrin, but the wolfman held him in place. “Callion Corvosa. Rain survived?”

  “Duke Corvosa’s spawn, hmm. I know who your father is, boy. He’s a coward who plays up to those with power and steps on those without it, a practical if not terribly courageous personal philosophy. How is it you know the girl?”

  “We were to be engaged before you attacked.”

  “Better and better.” Zarrin focused his will on the wolfman. “I don’t want this one harmed any further. I may find a use for him.”

  * * *

  Two days of training seemed like enough when Col suggested it, but after watching his trainees practice with their crossbows he decided he’d been overly optimistic. Most of them could work the windlass without hurting themselves and hit a stationary target, but they still lacked any real proficiency. The biggest surprise of the group had been Rain. She wasn’t quick with the windlass, but when she got ready the bolt found its target more often than not. He wished he had another week, but the food situation said they had to make a move, now.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Ged asked for the fifth time.

  “No, it’s a terrible idea, but we’re out of time. Just do what I told you and make sure you’ve got men at the gate day and night. I don’t know when I’ll get back, but I expect to have company with me.”

  “We’ll be ready.”

  No, you won’t. Out loud Col said, “Good, I’m counting on you.”

  He gave Ged a reassuring clap on the back and headed toward the gate. He’d found a stash of arrows in the armory and refilled his quiver. Col felt a good deal better with twenty arrows than he had with three, and the broadsword belted at his waist didn’t hurt either. He’d have traded both for a two squads of men-at-arms, but that seemed unlikely.

  Rain stood by the gate waiting to say goodbye, like a dutiful sister. He smiled as he approached the princess. She’d grown a lot since they joined up with the refugees. The way she helped with the wounded impressed him the most. He’d assumed being around injured people would bother her more than anything.

  “You’ll be careful?” Rain said when he reached her.

  He couldn’t say what surprised him more, that she seemed to mean it or that he cared what she thought in the first place. “I’m leaving a safe fortress to find a large group of beastmen intending to get them to follow me, that’s about as far from careful as you can get.”

  She punched him on the shoulder. “You know what I mean.”

  He grinned. “Don’t worry, Princess, I’ve still got a mission to complete. You won’t be getting rid of me for a while.”

  She kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll hold you to that.”

  She turned and walked back toward the keep. Col rubbed his cheek. Where had that come from? He couldn’t think about it now. He slipped out the gate and entered the forest. The beastmen wouldn’t be waiting on the ridge so he’d have to go hunting for them.

  Col’s gaze never stopped moving as he worked his way through the trees. The beastmen must have other scouts out looking for them. If he found another small group he could track them back to the main force. His plan was risky. If they had a bigger force than he thought the refugees would be overrun in minutes, walls or not. If the darkcaster was with them the battle wouldn’t last even that long.

  Around noon Col’s stomach rumbled. Like everyone else he made do with two meals a day and he hadn’t bothered to bring anything with him. Well, it wasn’t the first time he’d gone hungry, and at the rate things were going it wouldn’t be the last. He’d survive. If he knew how to do anything it was survive.

  A two hours after noon he spotted tracks, they looked like boarman hoof prints. Col frowned. Boarmen made horrible scouts. Why would they be traipsing through the forest? The trail wasn’t wide enough for more than a few to have come this way. Perhaps it was part of the group he’d seen waiting in ambush above the road. In that case they might lead him back to the main force.

  Col followed the trail for the rest of the day and near twilight the snarls and grunts of a beastman camp caught his attention. He slowed down and approached the noises as quietly as possible. Col got down on his stomach and crawled closer. Light from a fire poked though the evergreen brush around their camp. He parted the branches, and the breath caught in his throat. A couple hundred beastmen of every type milled around a large clearing. Meat roasted over half a dozen fires, some of the pieces looked like human legs. His hunger vanished at the sight.

  If he led this many beastmen back to the fo
rt, the refugees would be in for a desperate battle. On the other hand, if he abandoned the plan, they went back to same old problem; how to get past the beastmen. He frowned and tried to think. The fortress lay three days from the lord’s keep. If they gathered the beastmen at the fortress then fled back through the tunnel they’d get enough of a head start.

  Damn it! There was no way a group burdened by kids and wounded could win a race with healthy beastmen. They’d have to fight it out and pray to the Light they survived. If nothing else they’d take a bunch of the ugly brutes with them.

  He studied the gathering and soon spotted a saberfang sitting on a stump apart from the rest of the group. That had to be the commander. If he took out the leader it would give them a better chance in the fight.

  He eased back from the brush, got into a crouch, and stuck four arrows into the dirt in front of him. The beastmen wouldn’t give him time for more shots. Col nocked the first arrow and took a deep breath to center himself. When the fletching tickled his ear he loosed. The first arrow took the saberfang in the right eye, killing it instantly. He drew and loosed the next three in two seconds and all of them found beastman flesh. At this range he couldn’t miss if he wanted to.

  A collective howl went up from the gathered monsters and Col took that as his cue to run. He fled through the dark forest guided by the meager moonlight and his memory of the path he took to get there. The howls and snarls of the wolfmen reached him as the hunters took the lead. Outrunning the boarmen and saberfangs didn’t worry him, but the wolfmen with their long lanky frames did.

  Col had no idea how far he’d run when the thrashing behind him got too close for comfort. He drew an arrow, spun and loosed at the first bit of movement he saw. A pained howl rewarded him and he ran again. Maybe that arrow would buy him a little space. Wolfmen weren’t the brightest creatures, but even they’d hesitate if they thought they’d catch an arrow for their trouble.