To Be Chosen (The Maestro Chronicles)

by John Buttrick

  Sherree was confident she could determine the source of the illnesses, wanted to demonstrate her skill at diagnosing and treating patients in the field, and was also glad she had Fenton Chen to consult with and help her succeed. She could hardly wait to get started. Throwing herself completely into this task not only would help her career, it would keep her focused on what was important, rather than on a proposal made by a certain uncouth mountaineer. She would not think about kissing or cuddling or any of that. Absolutely not, even though it had felt wonderful.

  “There is a ship leaving two marks after sunrise. It is transporting members of the Eagle Guild up the Hirus River to the Taltin Sea. I will arrange transport for you to the vicinity of Lake Tomlin. Fortunately, members of the Zephyr Guild will be aboard to speed the journey. I suggest you get some sleep, the hour is late, and you will need to be at your best. Remember, you not only represent the Aloe Guild, you represent me,” the Senior Practitioner told her and then shut his door.

  Sherree went back to her room and once again got ready for bed. She slipped between the satin sheets, rested her head on the pillow, and placed Jerremy’s amulet against her forehead. “Jerremy, I have consulted with Fenton Chen. He has tasked me with going to Lake Tomlin and rendering the necessary aid. He is arranging my transportation on a ship with members of the Zephyr Guild aboard. I should be with you by tomorrow evening,” she sent.

  A sense of queasiness came through the connection. “I will inform my associates of your coming. And Sherree, thanks,” Jerremy replied.

  “The gratuity for this is going to be steeper than that,” she sent back, along with the sense of playfulness.

  “No doubt, no doubt, but keep in mind all that you owe me,” he sent back in an attempt at light banter.

  “For what?” She wanted to know.

  “I’m giving you the perfect excuse to do what you’ve always wanted to do,” he replied.

  “Are you speaking of an opportunity to heal the sick?” she asked.

  A weak sense of laughter came through the connection. “No, to touch me,” he sent, and was unable to mask his queasiness.

  “Men!” she sent through while conveying laughter. “Drink as much as your stomach allows. I don’t want you dehydrating, but water doesn’t do you any good if it is vomited back out,” she added, seriously.

  The communication ended and she closed her eyes. It had been an eventful day, testing her resolve at a number of points, but she made the right decisions, for herself, her career, and even for Daniel. She had no idea when they would see each other again, but her mission to Lake Tomlin had come at a good time. She needed to be away for a while. Was he having as difficult a time putting her out of his mind as she was him? She hoped so. Sherree sat up, fluffed her pillow, and then went to sleep.

  Chapter Thirteen: Into the Swamp

  “With five years in the infantry and twelve years serving as a Royal Guardsman, you are the best man for the job,” Captain Naith Bremen told him. He was a man of average height with short brown hair and a broad chin. “Sir Daniel needs someone like you with experience. He has battled yetis and led the defense in the Battle of Bashierwood, but has never truly commanded men in the field. You are to select a corporal and forty-eight guardsmen.”

  Roder Keenan was not one to shirk his responsibilities and the Captain knew it, so there was really no reason for him to explain anything about who was the best man for the job. The Captain-of-the-guard gives the orders and the Sergeant obeys, it was as simple as that, even when the task assigned is impossible, which might be why Bremen had used that particular phrasing. Roder had been ordered to help a newly dubbed Knight lead forty-nine men through possibly a score of Aakacarns and who knew how many sasquatches to reach and reinforce Duke Cantor’s estate. It would take more than experience to pull a victory out of this campaign, and everyone from the Queen on down knew it. Roder’s knowledge of the beasts came through fireside tales meant to frighten young children into not wandering out in the night. He had seen artists rendering of the brown shaggy beasts, yetis as well. The white ones were thought to be merely tales just as their southern cousins, that is, before the battle on Mount Tannakonna.

  “I will make the selections right away,” Roder replied with a salute.

  Bremen returned the salute and then left the barracks.

  “Corporal Duwin, get in here,” Roder ordered, and then waited as the thin young man entered the Sergeant’s quarters. “You listened at the door, so now you’re part of the mission.”

  The man was tall, lean, and looked as if a good breeze could knock him off his feet. His boyish face made him appear young, even though he was in his late twenties. There was good metal in him. “I was just passing by, heard the Captain’s voice, and actually didn’t hear much at all,” he stated and then asked, “Does he really expect you to fight Aakacarns?”

  He may not have heard everything, but he clearly knew enough. “Correction, we are going to be fighting Aakacarns and a few sasquatches. But don’t you worry. We have Sir Daniel to lead us and everyone knows how successful he has been,” Roder told him in a pretense of confidence.

  Duwin’s eyebrows arched up. “But that was all before he became impotent. What can he do without his spells?”

  Roder had no idea what the Knight could do but also had no intention of saying so. “He still has more experience in this kind of fight than any of us. Now, I’m going to give you a list of men and you will make sure each and every one of them is up, horses saddled, and ready to ride by the time Sir Daniel arrives. His orders are that we move out at dawn. No one, I repeat, no one not on this list is to know of the mission.”

  “Understood, Serge,” Duwin replied. His brow was furrowed with concern but he would do his duty.

  Roder wrote out the list and gave it to Duwin, then went to the stables to requisition fifty mounts and thirty pack horses. They would be entering the swamps and so wagons were out of the question. He had no doubt that with Sir Daniel’s backwoods origin, the young Knight could probably hunt enough food to feed the men along the way, and Roder chuckled at the thought, but went ahead and requisitioned field rations and water packs, because that is the way it is supposed to be done, and Sergeant Roder Keenan always did things the way they were supposed to be done. By the time he arrived back at his quarters, he was drowsy and had only a few marks before dawn, so stretched out on his cot and closed his eyes.

  He dragged himself up out of bed two marks later, put on his uniform and woke Duwin. “Josh, we need to wake the men,”

  Duwin’s eyes fluttered open and he sat up. “Right, Serge,” he replied and put on his uniform.

  The Corporal had gathered each man on the list into one barracks, which was also near the staging area, “Everyone up and on your feet!” Duwin shouted.

  There was moaning and groaning along with the obedience, but in short order all were dressed and ready to proceed. These were Royal Guardsmen, the best of the best, and they did everything perfectly and in short order, if not without some grumbling.

  “We eat an early breakfast and then it is straight to the stables,” Roder ordered.

  By the time Sir Daniel appeared, half a mark before dawn, all of the men were standing in the staging area beside their horses, which were saddled and ready to go. Accompanying the Knight was a pair of Teki, a man and woman. The female was wearing bright green trousers and a tight yellow shirt with orange stripes. There was a broad leather belt around her waist with a hand-sized crossbow hanging from a clip on her left hip, and a row of miniature bolts that went all the way around the belt two finger widths apart. Each bolt was a hand span in length.

  The male Teki’s pants were bright blue, he wore a yellow shirt with red horizontal stripes, and a knife on each hip, a slim throwing blade strapped to each boot, and perhaps more secreted within his blue coat. His eyes were dark brown but his hair was slightly below his shoulders, definitely not a military cut.

  Sir Daniel was in his field uniform consisting of, p
olished chain mail, a forest green sir coat, and light green pants. On his shoulders was a falcon with a lightning bolt clutched in its talons in a sky of blue and over his heart was the emblem of the royal hawk in flight, matching that on his green lacquered helmet, showing his allegiance to the crown. His sword belt was black with a double row of diamonds studded around his waist. The magnificent sword of a Ducaunan Royal Knight of the Realm was on his left hip and on his right, sheathed in black leather, was an ordinary hunting knife. He and his escorts were mounted. His was a superb ashen stallion with black mane and tail. The woman sat atop a mare whose thick coat was chestnut mixed with white while the man rode on a gray mare. Neither of the mares was flashy but Roder could tell at a glance they had staying power. He sincerely hoped the couple was only here as well-wishers.

  Sir Daniel smiled after dismounting. “Sergeant Keenan, I’m pleased you were chosen. Is all in readiness?”

  Roder nodded his head. “All is in readiness. We await your orders.”

  When he met the young Knight in the Whetstone, Roder had no idea he would be going into the field under his command. This particular fellow had impressed him, first in their sparring match, and then while observing him train with one of the best swordsmen in the land. Daniel never complained, not when Roder clouted him, not when Lieutenant Tomei drilled him in the forms as if he was a raw recruit, and not when the Master-of-the-blade finally began sparing with him again, even though the Knight lost every match. Roder had watched the progress. The young Knight had learned the forms and gone from adequate to highly skillful with the blade.

  “This is Silvia Cresh Gerabolli and David Cresh Gerabolli. They are my official Teki escorts and will be coming on our journey,” Sir Daniel announced.

  Roder had not held much hope that the two were well-wishers. It was not his place to approve or disapprove of his commander’s choice in who is to come, but guarding the royal family was the primary responsibility of the Royal Guardsmen. Acting in the Queen’s interest is also the responsibility of a Royal Knight of the Realm, but foreigners had no business being involved, especially Teki, and why was an escort from them needed? “As you command,” Roder replied evenly. He could tell by the sound of shifting behind him the men were no more thrilled by the announcement than was he.

  “When Sergeant-of-the-guard Zaccum and Lord Jonah Ducalin arrive we can move out. I know the quickest way to the Swamps of Append, but they know the best route to take once we get there,” Sir Daniel informed him.

  It only made sense to follow the Duke’s son, who could keep the entire company from getting bogged down. The young Knight spoke with a quiet confidence, which is how a commander should talk in front of the men he was commanding. Roder was glad to hear it. “Captain Bremen advised me of their coming.”

  Sir Daniel nodded his head and stared in the direction of the staging area entrance, toward the east wing of the palace. The sound of hoof beats on cobblestones came from behind and then faded as a horse and rider crossed onto the field. A man in a green uniform with gold trimming rode up and then dismounted right beside the Knight. What was a cavalryman doing here?

  “Cale, what are you doing here?” Sir Daniel inquired of the Lieutenant, echoing Roder’s thoughts.

  “I heard there is trouble in the south and requested leave to accompany you. That is, if you will have me?” Lieutenant Tomei replied.

  Under any other circumstances Roder would have been offended and annoyed at a cavalryman pushing his way into matters that did not concern him. He never approved of the arrogant Tomei, but had to admit the man was as good as his boast, and he could be of use on the mission, far more than a pair of Teki.

  Sir Daniel glanced at the woman, but she only stared back at him. Roder knew certain aspects to this mission had not been disclosed to even him, but was sure the Knight of the Realm knew every detail, and seemed hesitant to invite someone else along.

  Tomei coughed and forced a smile. “Surely you can use a Master-of-the-blade to help with whatever it is that needs doing. At the very least I can keep you in top form. I already have you where you could beat any man here, except me of course. Let me help you.”

  Sir Daniel mumbled something about, “If anyone insists on coming,” and then spoke up in a strong voice. “You may accompany me.”

  The Lieutenant nodded his head as if his joining them was never in doubt. Lord Jonah Ducalin and Frederick Zaccum arrived a quarter of a mark after sunrise, sloppy that, but considering all that they had been through, a little slackness could be tolerated. Both were clean shaven and dressed appropriately, the Duke’s son in a light green suit and the Sergeant in uniform. Sir Daniel acknowledged the Queen’s nephew and escort, and then mounted his horse with the ease that comes with much time in the saddle. Everyone followed his example and he led them single file out of the city.

  They were headed southwest, morning passed quickly and as the afternoon wore on the concrete road became hardened dirt. They formed two columns at that point and maintained a steady trot. Sir Daniel stayed quiet the entire time while Tomei chattered at him. Behind them the Teki were whispering, gesturing with their hands, and glancing lovingly at each other. The Duke’s son and Sergeant Zaccum were right behind the pair, with the young noble wearing a sour expression, clearly not pleased. Roder went up and down the line, making sure all was as it should be.

  “He didn’t even inspect us,” Slack-jawed Guardsman Lakane was saying to burly Joel Halkum who was riding beside him.

  “I just hope he will order a stop so we can eat. We’ve already missed our midday meal,” his buddy, Duncan Hawk replied, whose lean frame would lead one to believe he had missed a few vital meals, but he ate like a horse, and was full of energy.

  Conversations like that were happening up and down the line. The men would get sloppy if they begin to believe their commander does not care if each horse is exactly the same distance from the other or how clean they kept their uniforms and weapons. Not stopping for meals was a sure way of conveying to the men that their commander is not giving them much thought. The talk was mild so far, but if the Knight does not call for a stop soon, the grumbling will only worsen.

  Roder yanked on the reins and Dancer, his brown Battencayan stallion, double-timed to the head of the column. Lieutenant Tomei was still chattering while Sir Daniel’s eyes seemed to be continuously scanning the surroundings and paying little attention to the obviously one-sided conversation.

  “Sir Daniel, that field up ahead on the left is a perfect place to rest the horses,” Roder stated, trying to make it sound like an observation.

  The young Knight glanced back at the men and horses following him. “Two spans ahead on the right is a field better suited to our needs. We will stop there for three quarters of a mark.”

  The field in sight seemed adequate and trees lined both sides of the road, which curved to the left, making it impossible to see more than half a span. The Knight must have spent a good deal of time studying maps to be so sure of what was around the next bend. But still, “Is there something wrong with this field?” Roder dared to ask. He normally did not question a command decision.

  “Three hundred paces into the woods are a black bear and two cubs; the third is in the field. See that dip toward the center,” he replied while pointing his finger.

  Sure enough a black furred head poked up and then back down out of sight. Tomei shook his head wonderingly. “You faced countless yetis and are concerned about a bear and a few cubs?” the Lieutenant blurted.

  “If she attacks we will do what must be done, but I see no reason to bother her until then. If we enter the field and the cub cries out, which it will, the horses will be nervous, the men will get jumpy, and the she-bear will sense danger to her cub, which will lead to unpleasantness, all of which can be avoided by using the next field,” Sir Daniel replied.

  “I apologize for questioning you?” Roder said. He really should have had a little more confidence in the young Knight.

  “That would no
t happen in the cavalry,” Tomei stated, the contempt clear in his voice.

  “Then I’m glad Sergeant Keenan is not of the cavalry,” Sir Daniel spoke up. “Feel free to make suggestions and question me, privately, when you think I am about to make a mistake. Cale, why didn’t you mention it?”

  Tomei glanced at the Knight. “I trust you to decide where we go, what to do, and when. My trust was not misplaced. Obviously, you knew about the field ahead and already planned on stopping before the Sergeant here even made the suggestion.”

  Roder just could not make himself like the man.

  “It’s good to know you trust me because after the break we are going into the woods to make up time. Sergeant Keenan can correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe this is the road the Royal Guardsmen travel when they come and go from Duke Cantor’s estate,” Sir Daniel began to inform them.

  Before Roder could open his mouth to confirm the Knight was correct, Jonah Ducalin rode forward. “This is the route usually taken and it is the fastest. We should stay on it.”

  “As the crow flies, your home is two hundred-one spans from Ducanton. After the bend, this road goes straight south for another thirty-five spans, and then west for another thirty, at which point we go south for another ten in order to reach the swamps. That is two hundred forty-six spans. My way, we have half that to cover. By cutting across country, I can get us to that same spot on the road in a matter of days rather than a week or more,” Sir Daniel told him.

  “If we were in the Tannakonna region, I would trust you to know the back trails, but this is not your home. Have you even been in southwestern Ducaun before?” Jonah Ducalin demanded to know.

  “He was trained in Aakadon. I’ll wager he knows every trail on the continent,” stated the male Teki, David. The man spoke with absolute conviction but it was clear he was only supporting the Knight.

  Sir Daniel focused on the young lord. “You will guide us when we reach the swamps. Until then, we go the way I say,” he replied, evenly, offering no answer to the question.