“You will return for the Queen?”
Cantu frowned at the young man a moment, but saw only concern in his face, so Admiral smiled warmly. “I will, but first we’ll make a visit into the harbor at Cape. We’ll see what mischief we can cause the Deutzani and maybe distract Arsinol. He won’t know our marines are no longer aboard the troopships.”
Maxwell smiled. “Perhaps you can keep him in Cape for a few days.”
“Yes, that’s the idea,” Cantu said then turned away to bark an order at a nearby sailor.
“You best be off Sergeant,” he added, turning back, but the Sergeant was already gone.
It took just under three days to travel the sixty plus miles to Manse. General Dolan utilized the dozen horsemen stationed along the coast to scout the way ahead. If at all possible he wanted to avoid being spotted by the enemy’s cavalry. It would be best if they could make Manse undetected. He needn’t have worried. Rethwan, the Deutzani commander, pulled all local garrisons to Cape to protect the city against the threat from the Toranado fleet. The road to Manse was clear of any danger. The sky, however, began to darken the night before their arrival and rain began to fall softly in the morning.
“Rain again,” Prince Phillip complained after he’d filled General Dolan in on the essentials of the plan. Dolan, after a quick survey of the surrounding landscape nodded his approval, though he doubted King Arsinol would be foolish enough to move his entire force within the oxbow. He was satisfied, however, after an inspection of the western trails leading to the Plateau, that the depth of the river would utterly deter the Deutzani from attempting to flank the city. Of course the three thousand archers camped along the rocky crags of the Scar would also help sway the Deutzani against such a move. Dolan expected the conflict to become a protracted affair and was just hoping to weaken the Deutzani enough to make them easier to handle. His real goal was to keep them out of Toranado and in Massi. Ideally, they would maul the Deutzani enough to force a general retreat to the finger and the borders of their homeland. At the moment this was a grand hope, but if realized it would effectively give the Massi control of the western half of their country and create a buffer for the Toranado.
They spent the afternoon positioning the troops, the rain still falling intermittently, but it was never heavy and did not impede their progress.
“Our scouts report the surrounding area is clear,” Bock said from the edge of Manse, where he would be controlling the battle. He placed a hand on Laynee’s shoulder and the young girl smiled up at him, though Gwaynn could tell she was growing nervous about the coming fight. He smiled at her sympathetically.
“Stay with Lonogan and keep the Speaker bubble open,” he said, hoping the girl would be strong enough. If they were to trap the Deutzani, timely communication would mean everything.
“She’ll be fine, it’s me you’ll have to worry about,” Zebo said with a chuckle. Sitting astride his pony, the large man looked comical, but while no one openly chided the large Speaker, they all had feelings of pity for the horse.
“Watch your flanks,” Gwaynn warned. Bock nodded without comment. They all realized that this danger, though great, was minimized by the heavy flow of water through the river and the fact that archers guarded all the main gaps in the Scar. Krys Logan would be fighting directly at the breastworks and would be the one engineering a believable collapse of the defenses there. It was the most vital part of their plan, which had to succeed if the Deutzani were to be led into the meat of the trap. Krys immediately volunteered for the role, believing that, as Massi Weapons Master, his place was in the frontlines of the fighting.
Samantha rode up, after saying her farewells to her archers, just as Tabernas and Prince Phillip walked over to join them.
Gwaynn smiled at Samantha and nodded to Tabernas.
“General Dolan will remain inside Manse with his troops, joining the three thousand heavy infantry already there. The Deutzani will not achieve the quick break through they will be hoping for,” Phillip said feeling confident now that his forces were all in place…all except for the cavalry, which would be under Gwaynn’s direct command. Both Gwaynn and Samantha, who was on Bull, would be fighting on horseback on account of their injured legs, neither was all that comfortable with it, but nothing at this point could take them out of the fight.
“Good luck,” Gwaynn told them all after one last look around. Then he, Samantha and Zebo turned about and headed off. Gwaynn, along with Samantha and Captain Tanner, would lead the joint cavalry of Massi and Toranado to their place at Claymont to await the arrival of the Deutzani army.
ǂ
Her anger had yet to subside nearly two full days after learning that Gwaynn and the bitch would be riding with the cavalry and not fighting on the ground near her and the rest of the troops. de Baard rolled over away from Brant, who was sharing her bed, and snoring softly next to her. She looked over at him in the early morning light, disgusted. She would like nothing better than to slit his throat in his sleep and watch as he woke surprised and frightened. She controlled herself, however, and stood naked and chilled. The fire was completely out, but she dressed instead of lighting it. She glanced out the window to see it drizzling yet again. This entire spring had been nothing but rain. It would be another wet day of manning the breastwork.
She belted her kali beneath her cape and went out the door, closing it with no attempt at all to be quiet. It slammed and woke Lee Brandt. The big man sat up with a jerk and looked about confused for a moment, then rolled over smiling and hugged Cyndar’s pillow.
‘Damn, the woman smells good,’ he thought happily and drifted back to sleep.
de Baard moved out of the mill and down close to the river, finding a flat spot near the bank to begin her forms. If she couldn’t kill someone, the next best thing for her tight nerves was to work with her weapons; they were like old friends who quietly listened to her ills and frustrations.
She ran through the basics, slicing through the air, imagining the whore was in front of her; here she cut open her neck, there she lopped off an arm. She could almost hear the screams ringing in the morning air, loud and long, burrowing down into the mud. She cut, spun, twirled and jabbed, ending low on one knee finally sending a kali deep into the soft parts the bitch’s groin.
de Baard practiced for a solid hour, lost in the intricate moves and counters, completely unaware that the sun was now well above the cloudy horizon.
“You ready?” Lee called from behind her, watching her beautiful firm body as it worked and spun. A great battle filled with death was rushing toward him but he’d never felt so lucky, or so happy. If he died, he would die by this woman’s side, for he’d volunteered for the breastworks to fight beside her.
Killing Deutzani and fighting alongside the woman he was quickly growing to love made the war something almost desirable for the big man.
Cyndar looked at him, hair wet with sweat and hanging loosely in her face, her expression unreadable.
“I’m ready,” she said speaking so low he could barely make out her words, “to kill.”
Brandt smiled. “Maybe today.”
“Maybe.” de Baard answered, using all her self-control not to plunge her kali into the man’s exposed chest.
ǂ
“Something’s wrong,” Gwaynn said on their third morning in Claymont. Even an hour ago the Scouts reported the immediate area clear with no sign of the Deutzani army.
Zebo shook his head. “Laynee says the Deutzani have not yet arrived.”
“That’s what worries me,” Gwaynn answered.
“Lynndon?” Gaston asked. Both Gwaynn and Samantha looked at him, concerned. Samantha was looking a bit pale, and Gwaynn wondered if the worry and fear of the upcoming battle was starting to get to her.
The worry was real. If the Deutzani moved north, up the coast and bypassed them, Lynndon and the Plateau would stand before them virtually undefended. Once up top they could take back every gain the Massi had made.
If Lynn
don were to fall, their hold on Manse would be tenuous indeed. The fear was real, but before anyone could voice it a scout topped a slight ridge on the horizon, riding hard in their direction.
They waited anxiously; Eve skittered about, sensing Gwaynn’s uneasiness. Samantha smiled crookedly, because Bull stood like a rock beneath her.
“Are you alright?” Gwaynn asked, but Samantha just shook her head.
“I haven’t been feeling well. I think it’s been all the rain, but I’m fine…no fever,” she answered.
Gwaynn looked at her, concerned now. He didn’t say anything but was thankful that this morning the sky was cloudless and the sun was already smiling warmly down upon them. He was about to say something but then paused as the scout finally rode up and stopped short before them.
“The Deutzani are marching on Manse,” he reported, slightly breathless and clearly excited.
“Where?”
“Ten miles southwest,” the man answered. “They should reach the oxbow tomorrow morning.”
“How strong?” Samantha asked.
The scout shook his head. “Perhaps forty thousand strong, maybe five thousand horses.”
“Forty thousand!” Gaston exclaimed, but it was the figure Gwaynn was expecting, and he was relieved it was not more. It would seem Prince Arden and his army remained in Solarii.
“Thank you,” Gwaynn said to the scout. “Get something to eat and a fresh mount. The others are pulling back?”
The scout nodded. “The main line of scouts will pull back to a mile of Claymont, only the best will continue to shadow the Deutzani.”
Gwaynn sighed, wanting to tell the man to be careful, they did not want to reveal their position to the Deutzani, but he knew such advice was not needed. Everyone was aware of the need for secrecy and caution.
The scout moved off.
“Forty thousand!” Gaston repeated. “We’re outnumbered two to one!”
Gwaynn smiled to cover his own nervousness. “Odds Alexander the Great would be proud of,” he said softly, ignoring the frown that appeared on Jeffery’s face.
“Alexander…who?” Gaston asked, confused.
Gwaynn smiled again. “A great General from deep within the ten thousand worlds…Galen Dawkin’s world.”
“Galen’s world?” Samantha asked, surprised and intrigued.
“Alexander was a young man,” Gwaynn explained, “but by the time he was thirty he’d conquered the known world…against far greater odds than these.”
‘Odds,’ Gwaynn thought. ‘Perhaps it would be better to cut and run. We could lose everything.’ Despite the momentary weakness, Gwaynn knew he could not realistically run, not with an army of over twenty thousand that must constantly be fed and protected. Nowhere was the land and terrain better for battle than here at Manse.
Gaston frowned again. “Well I wish Alexander was here with us then,” he mumbled. Samantha looked at the young cavalryman, shocked, but Gwaynn just burst out laughing.
“Well said,” Gwaynn added, in between chuckles. “I couldn’t agree more.” He felt better for the laughing, realizing that the next hours would be filled with tension and waiting.
ǂ
The main body of the Deutzani army stopped within three hundred yards of the mile long breastwork guarding the mouth of the oxbow and then Manse itself. Riders were sent out to scout the surrounding area, to look for threats and assess the Massi defenses.
Captain Rethwan frowned when he saw the men guarding the breastworks and even rode forward himself, stopping just out of bow range to study the defenders. He rode back to his King after only a few minutes.
“A trap?” Ja Brude asked and the Captain nodded.
“Definitely a trap,” Rethwan agreed. “They’ve little hope of holding the line against us. They must know it.”
“How many?” Arsinol asked holding back his impatience.
“Not more than two spears deep in places,” Rethwan answered. “Maybe two thousand archers behind.”
“We’ll smash through them easily enough,” Arsinol added, and a wave of relief coursed through him. The Massi had not amassed the army he feared.
“M’lord,” Ja Brude said delicately. “We could be trapped in the oxbow.”
“Let us at least check the trails leading to the Plateau,” Rethwan advised.
Arsinol scowled at their caution but finally agreed. “You have three hours…the main attack begins in three hours,” the King said, anxious to get the battle started. The sun was again up and shining brightly. It quickly burned away the thin morning clouds, clearing the sky, as if it feared missing the coming excitement.
The scouts returned from the west after only a little over an hour and a half and reported that though the river was high it was crossable to the west of Manse. The crossing however would be difficult, for the current was strong and the water high in its banks, also there were a great number of Massi archers positioned on the far banks. Rethwan rode east and found the river there high and fast as well…too fast. He quickly concluded that crossing the Scar would not be advisable even before spotting the vast number of enemy troops on the far side. The Massi made no attempt to hide among the rocks and were clearly positioned to discourage any thoughts of a river crossing.
“So?” Arsinol asked as Rethwan entered the command tent. The Captain just shook his head and the King smiled.
“We use the entire cavalry to smash through the forward Massi positions,” Arsinol began. “But they will not hold back their charge. They will leave the mopping up to the pikes. The cavalry will continue on and crush any resistance at Manse then seize control of both sides of the bridge. It’s the bridge now that’s the key.”
Rethwan moved next to Ja Brude and leaned over the quickly constructed map of the surrounding area. He had to admit that if the attack was fast enough and they pushed quickly to the bridge there was little chance of failing. If the attack should ground to a halt and the bridge not taken, disaster would be a hair’s breadth away.
“A bold plan M’lord,” Rethwan said. “Might I suggest we leave a thousand of your best pike men at the entrance to the oxbow…just in case the Massi have destroyed the bridge and we need a fast exit in that direction.”
Arsinol scowled again, but glanced back at the map. He hadn’t considered that the Massi might destroy the only bridge in the area.
“Perhaps we could just leave the Massi army here,” Ja Brude said, feeling very uncomfortable about the coming battle. “We could move to the north, threaten the road to Lynndon and draw them out onto the plains.”
“No!” Arsinol yelled, slamming the flat of his hand on the table. He would not, could not give the rebel Prince more time to gather his forces. He would crush him here, at Manse.
“The Massi royal line will end here!” Arsinol added in a lower voice but the anger present could still be easily heard. “You have your pikes,” he said to Rethwan. “Be sure they guard the entrance well.”
ǂ
de Baard stood on the front line looking out across the open field at the approaching Deutzani army with anticipation. She needed to kill someone…anyone. Her palms were itching with the need. She was positioned with Brandt, about fifty yards east of the center where Krys Logan also watched the approaching enemy. While they waited, Gwaynn, having received the message of the Deutzani’s early morning movements lead the cavalry to within two miles of the enemy’s rear. He watched from the flat of his belly perched atop a slight ridge with Tanner and Coldaire, the Captain of the Toranado horsemen. From this vantage point they could not see much, just large formations and the dust kicked up by the men and horses. As they watched a large group of Deutzani cavalry looped around the rear of the army. For a moment Gwaynn was afraid they would scout their rear, but then the ranks of foot soldiers opened and the cavalry burst through and raced toward the Massi breastworks.
It was an impressively fast and coordinated movement, but it was hard to say how effective it was from their vantage point. The breastworks
were completely hidden in the distance.
“Remain,” Gwaynn said to Tanner, “and signal when the Deutzani have broken through the defenses.” Gwaynn then limped back to Eve and mounted up with a glance at Samantha who was already astride Bull.
“Soon,” he told her outwardly calm but inside his stomach was churning with nervousness. “The attack has begun.”
The Deutzani cavalry charge hit the hardest fifty feet to the west of Krys’ position and was scarcely slowed by the shower of arrows launched from the Massi archers. They hit so hard and fast and were so well trained that the breastworks might as well not existed. The Massi defensive line held less than five minutes before finally breaking and then the entire lines became small, individual pockets of chaos.
As the first of the horses hit the breastwork in front of Krys, they were turned by a group of determined soldiers with spears, but the second wave broke through killing men as they went. Krys backpedaled, sliced through the thigh of an oncoming cavalryman then he glanced about to get a sense of the battle. The defenses crumbled far faster than predicted. Krys realized that if the Deutzani horsemen circled back, his position would be dire and he would be hard pressed to survive. Fortunately, however, the enemy cavalry did not pause and just continued on their drive toward Manse. He hoped the defenses there would hold better than the front lines or his death would just come a bit later.
Massi soldiers and archers were already in mass retreat with only pockets holding their ground, but Krys saw that they were at least angling their retreat away from Manse and toward the river, as was the plan. The next moment a rush of Deutzani foot soldiers hit the smashed breastworks and swarmed the area. Krys fought hard, slashing and killing and soon found himself in the only pocket of Massi soldiers not fleeing for their lives.
There were maybe two dozen soldiers in the group, though Krys did not have the time to look about and see exactly who he was fighting beside. The pocket, while fighting off all comers, moved as a group slowly and steadily toward the eastern loop of the river. Krys caught a glimpse of Cyndar Huntley, fighting like a demon, slicing and hacking with a skill that amazed him.
Assassin of the Heart: Book Two: The Temple Islands Series Page 33
