“Towb told you that Yarik’s wife was a tailor’s daughter. His lie destroyed you.”
My memory served me then as I heard the man’s deep, gravelly voice. He was the Hemari I had shared a cell with in the dungeon beneath the palace. I should have connected the events before.
Barok turned to his companions. “Who are they?”
“We arrived together on barges from Almidi under command of Arilas Pormes. I, and healer Avin, were amongst the churls in his army. Our fellows here were our jailors. We escaped last night.”
I stepped straight toward him. He was Hemari, and I needed what he knew. “Report, guardsman.”
The sudden address startled everyone, but Geart came to quick attention. “Sir, as of sundown last night, the enemy was camped between two bald hills along the coast, almost due east of here. They number upwards of 14,000 and are led by a proper general and eight Hessier. The force is highly mixed. Some 2,000 Tracian regulars are the heaviest of their number. Behind them are 4,000 poorly equipped levy-militia and a like number of Parsatayn’s bailiffs. Some 600 to 800 laborers were also at camp, timbermen judging by the location. The weakest of their number, 6,000 churlish conscripts, arrived on barges yesterday from Almidi. They have had only one meal in three days, but have been promised pardons and know success in battle. They were used earlier this season to capture Smargnoid and murder the Arilas of Heneur.”
“You were in Heneur?”
“Yes, brother. The mountains are as beautiful, and the men beneath them are as cruel. Arilas Serm hired mercenary Hessier and spent a thousand of his churls taking Smargnoid before selling us all to Arilas Pormes. The fat man spoke to us last night—said they would be marching this morning, intent upon capturing Barok and destroying his army. If the general I saw with him is in charge of the force, the army will be delivered here by nightfall—though they will have to do it without any horses. We took every mount they came with. We have Eargram here to thank for that.”
I noticed the herd then. None of the horses were strung together.
“How is this possible?” I asked.
But Geart, his mission completed, couldn’t hold himself up any longer. Avin and Barok rushed to catch him and lie him down.
Geart took hold of Avin. “Tell them.”
I wanted very much to know what he meant, but Barok asked, “What is wrong with him? Can you help him?”
“Some, but it is time that he needs. He is weak from the magic he made—impossible magic. He sang to the horses and they followed him. I taught him to make the healing magic, but this, this I cannot explain.”
Sahin stepped forward, his hostile question my own. “You are a priest of Bayen?”
The thin man took a long look around at our faces. “Sirs, I am confused by your countenance, but yes. My name is Avinda Dooma, former nolumari of the Tanayon Court and a healer of some skill.”
“He was a law priest,” Barok said to the crowd.
The small man did not miss our change in mood. He took a step back. “Bayen’s faithful are not welcome here?”
Sahin and I charged the man, took hold of him by his hair and his throat.
I drew my sword and got ready to open his guts. I hissed in his ear. “No man who serves the Shadow is welcome here.”
“The Shadow?” the man said with disgust. “I am no such man. It is Adanas I hold to my heart.”
The senior Chaukai charged the man from every direction, and we carried him apart from the rest. Each man had hold of his sword. Barok and one of the jailors moved up after us.
“Leave off,” I spat at them. “This is not your business.”
They withdrew, and Sahin took hold of Avin’s head with both of his thick hands. “Where did you hear that word, priest. Speak quickly.”
Avin had relaxed, though, and smiled with tears in his eyes. “I heard it from a priest that the Sten had charged with sedition. You serve her also? The Spirit of the Earth?”
Sahin let go of him. We could only stare.
A thousand questions needed to be answered, but only one mattered at that moment. I pointed back at Geart and the horses that crowded around him. “You said he did impossible magic. What do you mean? Can he fight the Hessier?”
“He made magic words he could not know. It was the second time I have seen him do it. I felt the Spirit of the Earth when he called in the horses. The forest trembled and I heard the distant whisper of a woman. Did you hear it too?”
I ignored his question. “Can you rouse him? Can he fight the Hessier?” Avin seemed unsure. “Speak man. We have no time.”
“Yes, he can hold back their magic, and I can rouse him, but it could take days.”
“But you can do it?”
“I can. With time, I can.”
I led us back toward Geart and ordered a pair of the senior Chaukai to escort him and Avin up to my old room in the keep.
The many hundreds of horses, meanwhile, seemed to have lost their interest in him and began to mill about.
“Eargram was it?” I asked of the thick-bearded jailor. He nodded, and I said, “Well, Eargram, the Akal you took belong to Prince Barok, but if you can corral the herd and survive the fight that is coming, I will call the rest yours. Is it a deal?”
He nodded, turned, and with a startlingly powerful voice had his tired men rushing to string together the slowly-scattering herd.
I turned back to the rest. “Sahin, I want the infantry and every able archer in Urnedi delivered here immediately. Gern, take Clever and the fresh Akal and race the road north—rally the villagers—”
“I will make that ride,” Dia said over me.
Barok began to object, but she said, “No. Gern’s place is with the infantry, and I will not sit uselessly in our apartment. I know every road and trail, and I know the name of every man of age. This is my ride to make.”
To me she asked, “Are there any Fells to spare?”
I could tell what she was planning at once and liked it a great deal. “Yes. Many hundred if we pull in all the teams from the timber camps, quarry, and the harbor. Each is broke to ride. Thell and his grooms would know the count.”
“Good. Get them moving to the shores of Lake Almond west of Mount Thumb. Send the new Akal as well. I’ll rally the villagers there and start back at dawn two days from now and will return two days after that.”
I had no objections to her quick plan and said as much. Barok seemed to, but Dia spoke over him again. “No, Barok. This is for me. You get busy figuring out how to kill some more Hessier.”
Then she kissed him, leapt into the saddle of Sahin’s extra mount, and with piercing cries the two of them raced back toward the town.
Barok stepped close. “Tell me what you intend.”
“A large force cannot move easily through forests like this. They will want to use the road. I will make them pay to use it and delay them as I can.”
“What for me?”
“You would not be satisfied to spend these days safe in the keep?”
He shook his head slowly, almost glaring at me.
Gern said, “I would be a lot happier if the forest was cleared farther back from the palisade. They should have nowhere to hide when they get here. You should organize the effort.”
“How far?” Barok asked intently.
In response, Gern unshouldered and strung his bow and fired an arrow down the road. I could hardly see where it fell but knew well the range—370 paces. I was momentarily furious that the ground around the town had not already been cleared but lost the thought to the sound of Sahin’s voice and the quick-moving infantry he led around the keep toward us.
“I’ll organize the work from here,” Barok said and added quickly, “I promise I will stay behind the palisade.”
I did not believe him and looked to Erom, Fana, and his bodyguards. Each had the same skeptical look on their faces, and I knew they would help him keep his promise.
I bid them farewell, called the greencoats into formation, and got us mo
ving east.
Sahin and Gern flanked me as we rode out onto the start of the stone road. I took a look back at the force we led. We were 1,300 all in: 100 well-armed greencoat cavalry in mixed chainmail and helms; 450 greencoat infantry with longbows, heavy shields, and heavy spears; 300 greencoat recruits not yet through their fifty days; and 450 militiamen from Urnedi with little but stout bows, the occasional sword, and their enthusiasm.
The long ride out burned off the nervous edge and gave me time to fit men to tasks and our force to the ground in front of us.
We reached the low rise I had in mind near midday, and I called a halt. Down the far side of the long, evenly-sloped hill, the road made its turn southeast toward the gap between mountain’s peaks. The timber camp was almost due east of the spot. I was glad we had hurried. I knew the place well from my days waiting for Kuren the last time he had visited. It was good ground.
To the men I said, “Here it is, sirs, the day we trained for—the day we knew would come. We are outnumbered ten-to-one. We will not hold this road. They will make it to Urnedi. But we need only hold them back from the town four days—four days until Enhedu rallies to us. Fire each arrow with care. Keep your calm. Know that this enemy is weak and will not survive us.”
“What of the Hessier?” one of the archers asked. I found the speaker. It was Selt.
“I have seen them used my whole life—some of you may have a time or two, as well. They ride upon the weak and force surrender. They might make the mistake of getting within range of our longbows early, but I doubt we will see them. Rarely do they risk themselves. They will wait while Kuren’s army presses and bloodies us, forces us into a corner, so they can get close enough for their evil magic to bend us to our knees. We can prevent this. We bloody their army here, make them pay for the road, and then slaughter them when they get to Urnedi and realize too late that there are 4,000 fresh men upon her walls. As for the Hessier, Barok has plans for them, too.”
Movement up the road drew our attention. Three bowshots away at the bottom of the long, slow slope of road, a brown and yellow banner emerged from the trees at the bend in the road. A thick mass of infantry followed it out. They were very slow to realize us, and when they did, they came to an uncertain and disorganized halt. The greencoats laughed.
“Those are their best,” I said. “We embarrassed them the first time we met. This time we shall not be so nice.”
I let the men jeer and shout their jokes about girls from Trace.
“Captain Sahin,” I ordered when the humor had settled. “Assemble the cavalry behind the hill, switch to fresh mounts, and divide them by troops. Lieutenant Gern, get the greencoat recruits busy making camp and corralling the extra horses. I want the rest working to entrench the forward side of the hill, one hundred paces from this spot. Be ready to defend at 370, boxed phalanx, and four-deep by the line.”
The greencoats snapped to and began to move. The militiamen from town stood uncertainly in the midst of this purposeful action. I knew most and called by name the men who lead them.
“Selt, Merit, Urs, Haton, Sevat, Onmar … spread your men out above Gern’s position. Have your men learn the squares of road where each will stand. Have every man test the range. Relieve any man who cannot hit the road of his weapon and set them to moving water up from the stream west and north of here. When all is set, keep to the shade when possible. When the time comes, fire slow … stay calm. Have the water-carriers ready to recover arrows when the enemy allows it. I will be on your left. Sahin will be on your right.”
Some of the militiamen behind them seemed uncertain, but I had little worry that the men who led them were capable. I left them and joined the cavalry behind the hill. The recruits and their sergeants had already taken charge of the extra ponies and were spreading out along the sides of the road to clear ground for the tents and supplies.
To the cavalry, I said, “We flank right and left. They do not know our number and will not as long as we keep moving quickly. Call orders as companies, A to F. Sahin south-most as A, I north-most as F. You know the trails. Keep the enemy off of them. Make them crawl through the thickets, and kill any who get exposed. Pursue only as you are able to stay together. Our mission is to make a hundred seem thousands—make them lose two days learning the truth.”
The men looked ready. Eager. Six troops of fifteen. Three assembled on me, three on Sahin, and we led them into the trees.
The forest on the north side of the road was thin but the ground as cluttered as everywhere else in Enhedu. Thick ferns and brush choked any break in the trees, and the low, thick spruce that edged those brief places were all but impenetrable. I split off the first troop along a trail that cut through a brief stand of tall oak and the second across a wide clearing. I turned my troop east upon the very spot I had lit a signal fire that spring.
I pushed us down the trail, happy for the great sound of us smashing our way along. I caught an occasional heartening glimpse of the troop south of us and was doubly glad at how far east we were able to push. We reached the bottom of the hill’s long, slow slope and rode around the north side of a reed-choked basin.
We saw then a thick cluster of men making their way south along the basin’s eastern edge. They were Kuren’s levies—men pressed into service from the fields of Trace and armed even worse than the Urnedi militiamen commanded by Selt and Sevat.
“Company F, order—make ready spears … charge.” They did, and I led them through the trees—my fifteen straight at hundreds.
“Company E,” I heard called a distance to our right but nothing more as we collided with the startled levies.
I lanced a man who had not thought to withdraw and then was right into the mix of them. They stood dumbly for too long, flat-footed, and unready. I pierced one man after another, and they stumbled back and packed themselves against the thick trees. Panic took them, and those who could began to flee east while the rest collided with each other and with us.
To my left, one of the greencoats was pulled from his pony.
“Quick order—rally, rally on me,” I ordered and urged my Fell straight at the mass of men. The weight of my pony and those close behind smashed through them, and I wet my spear twice more. One of the levies managed a clubbing swing with his spear, but it glanced off my helmet. Another greencoat speared the Tracian through the neck. The fallen greencoat rose, blood thick upon his cheek.
“Sorry, sir,” he said and recovered back atop his pony.
Around us the last few men who had not fled into the trees were lanced. On the other side of the wall of spruce, I could see a wide uncluttered clearing of yellow grass packed with men moving in all directions.
South of us came the call, “Company E, order—charge.”
To my fifteen I said, quick and quiet, “Spread out here—push them through the trees and assemble on me.” Then I bellowed for the forest to hear, “Company F, order—charge.”
We fanned out quickly, found the thin gaps through those trees, and rode down the fleeing men. The screams of the wounded and dying broke over the thousand who stood confused in the clearing beyond, and I charged out of the trees and toward them as if I had hundreds behind me.
I flung my spear into the chest of the only officer I could find, drew my heavy blade, and turned north along the uncertain edge of the terrified enemy. My blade looped in great arcs as I cantered, with each descent cracking a skull or cleaving a back or shoulder. They had no shields, few spears, and no will at all for the fight.
“Company F, order—pivot south.”
My men were quick to the turn, and our line did quality murder as we raced back south along the mass of men too crammed together to get away. South of us, Company E had run into a group ready to fight. Each greencoat was still in the saddle, his sword or spear moving well, but they had been brought to a halt.
“Company F,” I boomed. “Order—charge.”
The levies fighting Company E got one look at us galloping straight at their flank and fled
. Company E was freed, and its Chaukai sergeant ordered them instantly north into the still disorganized enemy behind us. It was textbook maneuvering, and I could not have been more proud. They flashed past on our right while we gave chase south. It was grisly work after that. The levies cared only to be clear of us, and we were growing tired from killing so many of them. We reached the south edge of the clearing, and I turned us to make another pass north, but by then the enemy had succeeded in escaping into the trees. They showed no sign of slowing their flight.
Soon all that was left in the clearing was my thirty men and the bodies half hidden in the well-trampled yellow grass. We had done the deed without losing a man.
I waved in both troops and ordered, “Quick and quiet, fan out and dismount. Kill the wounded and collect all the weapons to the center of the clearing. Grab any strapping that we can use to lash it all together.”
The men got straight to it. They did not need to be told that no witnesses of our actual number could be left alive or of the value of the weapons. Urnedi did not have enough weapons to go around. While they worked, I ordered two men east to scout the enemy and two more to the south to find Company D.
By the time the weapons were tied into four thick bundles, the first pair of scouts was crossing back toward us. I ordered the bundles hung in pairs across the backs of two Fells whose riders were wounded.
I said to them, “Return to the top of the hill the same way we came. Report this action to Gern. Then carry the weapons to Urnedi and report the action to Barok. Have him send a hot meal down the road. We are going to be here a while.”
They started west, and I turned to hear the report of the scouts.
“The levies fell back a good way,” the young man began.
The other interrupted, “Another three-seventy.”
“Yes, thank you. Apologies, sir. Another three-seventy east of here there is a low rise that falls away to a stream. On the far side is a wide, dry wash. The enemy is bunched there in great disarray, though south of where we set eyes on them, they are crossing the stream in numbers. Sahin may not have encountered the enemy yet on the south side of the road.”
Ghost in the Yew Page 59