Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3

by Mark E. Cooper

  He looked around and found his map table already set up with its awning providing protection from the sun. He touched Wotan on the elbow and gestured that they should reconvene under the awning’s protection. It was cursed hot to be standing around in black robes, but Wotan seemed unconcerned. No sweat dotted his brow, or that of any sorcerer for that matter.

  “May I see the fighting?”

  Wotan nodded. He placed his mirror on the map and called an image from above.

  It was a wonderful way to fight a war, he mused not for the first time. It did make him feel just a little divorced from the battle, but he was commanding what amounted to three legions now and was unable to fight with the men any longer. He hoped they didn’t think he was holding back through fear, because that wasn’t it at all. Three legions weighed heavy on his mind. He needed all his attention to keep every facet of his plan running smoothly. He would do himself and his men a disservice if he tried to fight at the same time as keeping track of so many men.

  The first thing he noted upon seeing the image was that indeed the clans had finally arrived. The second was worry. Bannan was badly out numbered. Three thousand legionnaires were fighting perhaps three times their number of clansmen. Bannan had obviously decided a fighting retreat was in order and Navarien agreed. The mages were doing an excellent job of warding the retreat. None of Bannan’s men were falling any longer. Not so the clans. Fireballs flew and grounded amongst the clansmen. Bodies were turned to torches and ash, but the warriors were undaunted and came on. Navarien shook his head at their foolishness. They should pull back and wait for night when they had more chance. Not that it would work of course, but they should still try. This attack was just wasting lives.

  Navarien absently noticed more mages arriving and bending to speak with Wotan as he watched the retreat, but he took no notice of their whispers. Wotan would tell him what it was about if he deemed it necessary.

  The wards were doing a fine job of protecting Bannan’s men, he noted. Bannan could stand where he was and fight all day if the plan required it, but even sorcerers tired after flinging magic about for so long. It was wiser to lead the clansmen closer to the main body for support. Bannan was doing precisely what he should.

  “Corbin reports heavy resistance in the centre, General,” Wotan said turning away from one of his sorcerers.

  Navarien nodded. This was it then.

  Wotan’s system was working to perfection. Using the mirrors, he had ten sorcerers in permanent contact with the lead mage of each battalion. Orders and reports flowed from the battalions in question through the sorcerer’s mirrors to Wotan and thence to him.

  “Anything on the left?”

  Wotan asked a sorcerer who bent over his mirror. All around the table mirrors lay showing wildly differing views. Some showed this camp as men hurried to dig the ditches and pile the sod high for a rampart. Already the walls were climbing. Wotan had made it his policy to have his sorcerers keep in contact with the lead mages of each battalion even when it was not strictly necessary. He said that once the habit formed he would be happier; Navarien liked forward thinking. You never knew when a quick response might save lives.

  “Duer reports all quiet.”

  He nodded and thought over his options. “Send Duer here,” he said pointing to a place on the map roughly halfway between the camp and Corbin.

  Wotan frowned at Navarien’s fingertip and estimated the distance. He turned to give the order.

  “Order Corbin and Bannan to retreat slowly and lead the clans to Duer,” he went on. “Duer’s mages are to set wards either side but leave the forward section facing the clans open.”

  Wotan nodded and did that. “You think to hit the clans as they arrive with javelins?”

  Navarien nodded. “And arrows. If your sorcerers are willing, some lightning might not go amiss. No more fire, please. We all remember what happened to Fourth Legion last year.”

  “Good point,” Wotan said and ordered the fires extinguished.

  He watched the image and blinked in surprise as the fires died. This was truly a weird experience. He could just wish for something and it would be done. It was intoxicating, and he reprimanded himself for the thought. He had to remember what the real world was like or his men would become nothing but game pieces. He wouldn’t allow that to happen.

  Duer’s battalion reached his chosen battleground first and arranged itself in battle formation ready to receive the enemy in short order. Navarien turned his attention to Corbin.

  “Order Corbin to retreat in haste as if fleeing,” he said.

  Wotan grinned and gave the order.

  Corbin would not like it, but the captain had learned his lesson about following unpalatable orders last year. He would do what he was ordered to do, hating it every minute no doubt, but he would obey.

  “Move in on Corbin would you?”

  Wotan smiled. “You’re being cruel, General. Isn’t it bad enough that you order our illustrious Seventh Battalion to retreat?”

  He laughed at Wotan’s tone and watched as Corbin appeared in the mirror. The captain was racing over the plain in a headlong charge. The excitement on his face was plain to see. Navarien winced as Corbin ran down a clansman and chopped him from the saddle with one blow. The view was too narrow to see the rest of Seventh Battalion, but Corbin was obviously too busy for new orders just yet.

  “Could you widen the view again?”

  Wotan nodded and the picture obligingly altered.

  Yes, it was as he had thought. Corbin and his men were chopping up the clansmen. Again, he was outnumbered but you wouldn’t think it by the havoc he was causing. Corbin reached a point of decision and the cornets blared. As one, the men of the Seventh wheeled and charged away. The manoeuvre was executed flawlessly.

  “You have to admire his precision,” he said shaking his head in admiration.

  Wotan was also impressed. “Yes, but he didn’t use magic at all. Surely he suffered some casualties through this charge of his?”

  “Must have. Still, it does no harm to remind the clans we can fight. That will be useful later.”

  Navarien watched as Corbin’s men raced back and regrouped. Some of the clan warriors were trying to copy the charge but with one difference. They charged within bow shot, loosed their arrows, and then turned and raced away again. Some warriors fell to hastily thrown javelins but not many. All was well however, Corbin’s sorcerers had closed a ward over the battalion as soon as the javelins flew. It was perfect, just like in training.

  Corbin was speaking with a sorcerer when the mirror found him. “You’re sure he said as if fleeing?” Corbin questioned watching the clan regroup.

  “It’s definitely some kind of ruse, Captain. He wants us to pull the enemy toward Captain Duer.”

  “Fine then. We’ll charge one more time, but this time when we turn we keep running.”

  The sorcerer nodded and gave the order to raise the wards.

  Navarien smiled. The boy was learning. He watched Corbin slam into the warriors and race away as he said, just as if they were fleeing. The clansmen whooped, hollered, and gave chase.

  “Fools,” Navarien said. “Don’t they have anyone who knows what he’s doing?”

  “I certainly hope not!” Wotan laughed.

  He chuckled and asked to see Bannan again. The mirror cleared and he tensed. Bannan’s battalion was surrounded. He relaxed a little when he saw the wards flaring and crackling. Bannan and his men were safe inside, but for how long?

  “That’s not what I had in mind.”

  Wotan centred the image in his mirror on Bannan who was discussing the situation with his sergeants.

  “I don’t care how slow it will be! You will do it!” Bannan snarled and glared at his sergeants. “Magic isn’t a be all and end all. The wards have to stay up.”

  “But we could break out easily if they hit the bastids with fire!” Sergeant Ferrol said.

  Bannan shook his head. “The General said no fire, so
there’s no fire! Do you want to explain to him why we burned half the plains just to retreat two leagues?”

  Ferrol looked down sheepishly.

  “I didn’t think so,” Bannan said. “Remember what happened last year lads. No fire—right?”

  “…damn straight!”

  “My mama didn’t have no stupid sons!”

  “Yeah, but Ferrol’s did!”

  There was laughter among the sergeants and Ferrol’s glare dissolved into a weak grin that turned to laughter as he was shoved jokingly from all sides.

  “Right then,” Bannan went on. “I want double time and no banging into the wards. Remember your training and we’ll be in fine shape. Now go!”

  Navarien nodded. That was the only sensible thing to do. Fire would have cleared up this little mess, but the risk to Tenth Battalion was too extreme for Bannan to choose disobeying his no fire order. He watched the battalion move with the wards and the clansmen had to give way before it. One enterprising sorcerer saw a way to hurt the enemy and altered his ward so it became hot to the touch. No fires resulted but suddenly the going was much easier. Clansmen howled in pain and moved out of its way. Other sorcerers took note and did likewise and soon Bannan was moving freely. He was still surrounded, but it was obvious that the warriors were at a loss. They had no idea what to do.

  “Good, good,” Navarien said. “Bannan will reach Duer about the same time as Corbin I would judge.”

  Wotan nodded.

  As usual, Corbin had been much further out than he strictly should have been. The orders were to keep an even pace and spacing, but he was always eager to fight the enemy and had infected his men with his eagerness. Corbin’s battalion was the best cavalry unit he had bar none. He put that down to Corbin’s way of inspiring the best from his men.

  “What of Julia?” Navarien asked.

  “I can’t find her—can’t find the shamen either,” Wotan said scratching his head. “They’re not with these,” he said nodding at the mirrors. “If they were, the clans would be using magic.”

  Navarien didn’t like that, not one bit! Where by the God was she? “Cragson!”

  “Sir?”

  “I want sentries taken out of the digging. Have them patrol the perimeter. Julia is missing.”

  Cragson nodded worriedly and trotted off barking orders.

  “You don’t think she would sneak in do you?” Wotan said looking worriedly around the camp.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised, but in this instance I think not. Lord Athione would surely refuse to allow that. I wouldn’t like to be him!”

  Wotan chuckled but it wasn’t funny. Julia was impulsive. If she decided to attack on her own, not many people could stop her.

  “You’re ready for her… just in case?”

  “We’re ready,” Wotan agreed. “But we have to find her first.”

  “She’ll turn up,” he said. Of that he had no doubt, but in the mean time he had a war to fight.

  Duer was ready. Corbin and Bannan were on their way. All looked good. It was time to add a little infantry to the mix. Navarien considered sending Tikva who was his best and brightest under captain, but decided on Captain Meran instead. Meran didn’t have the experience of other captains he could send, but he had been an excellent sergeant and he knew infantry inside and out. Meran knew it from eighteen years in the legions; more importantly, he knew it from the perspective of the individual legionnaire because he had been one.

  “Cragson!”

  “Sir!”

  “Find Meran and have him assemble his battalion. I have a task for him and I want your little surprises sent along. Have him see me before he goes.”

  Cragson grinned and went to find Meran.

  “It’s a little soon for that surely?” Wotan said.

  “Hmmm, yes and no. It is early I grant you, but we can’t expect to surprise the clans more than once. With Julia and the shamen all unaccounted for I think it best that we use it now before they find out what we have. Besides, there are a goodly number right here. If I can destroy them completely it will make our task easier later.”

  “I see,” Wotan said. “I’ll order my brothers to attack all out. They can handle any fires as they go.”

  “If you’re sure?”

  “Positive. They all know what happened last year.”

  “Fine,” Navarien said, but if they had all known about the danger why had it taken an order from Wotan to put out the fires earlier?

  “You wanted to see me, Sir?”

  Navarien turned toward his newest captain. “Yes Meran. I’m sending you out to reinforce Duer. He’s roughly a league to the south of us. I want you there double quick and set up to take a charge with the pikes. You’ll likely only have one chance. Can you do it?”

  “No problem, Sir. I could do it in my sleep,” Meran said with a grin.

  “You had better not! If I catch you napping you’ll be for it,” he said with a grin. “On your way and come back safe.”

  Meran saluted and his General returned it.

  Meran trotted off and moments later his battalion left using a ground eating lope that was double time for the legions. Sorcerers rode on each side in single file ready to link their magic and protect Meran’s men, which was their main task. Their second task was to kill the enemy as fast as possible.

  Navarien turned back to the mirrors but nothing had changed. “Can you get me Duer?”

  “Duer himself?” Wotan asked turning to the appropriate man.

  “If you would. I need to advise him of Meran’s arrival.”

  Navarien waited a short time for Duer to be found and come to the mirror. “I have Fourth Battalion on its way to you, Captain. I suggest you use it in the centre.”

  “Is Meran bringing—?”

  “Yes. Make your deployment with that in mind, and don’t forget Corbin and Bannan. I suggest you put them on the wings, but you’re in command there not me. With luck the clansmen will charge Meran and you can collapse the wings in to pin them.”

  Duer nodded. “Sounds good, Sir. Will you inform Corbin that I have command?”

  He grinned. Bannan would see that Duer, being already set, should command, but Corbin would need orders. “I’ll see to it. Good luck.”

  “Thank you Sir.”

  The mirror went dark to be replaced by the sorcerer who owned it. Wotan gave his orders regarding the coming battle and then dismissed the man. Navarien asked Wotan to inform Corbin and Bannan of the chain of command for this battle and then turned his attention to the camp again. Cragson had things well in hand. The ditches were complete and he could see sentries standing at intervals on the walls. Tents were being erected and food was cooking. He could smell bacon and was glad that Cragson had ordered something other than bison meat cooked. It was the eve of battle after all.

  * * *

  22 ~ Field of Sorrows

  “Don’t go!” Julia wailed clasping Keverin close. “Please… please don’t. Please, please, please!” she cried as her tears ran down her cheeks and dripped to the rugs.

  “Julia, stop this!” Keverin said breaking free and holding her at arm’s length. “What’s the matter with you? Be strong my love; I’ll be fine.”

  “No,” she whispered. “You’ll die and leave me.”

  “I shan’t,” Keverin whispered hugging her close. “You and I will be married, and we will have many children together, you’ll see. Navarien is not the God, he can be beaten.”

  “But not by the clans. You know I’m right. Look how many Tobiah has lost through his foolishness. We should have gone home with Adrik and Gideon. We still can! Navarien will kill you and I’ll be all alone. The shamen sit here and say they must do as Tobiah says even when they know he’s wrong! What will you do when someone throws fire at you?”

  “Duck I expect!”

  She pushed angrily away and dried her tears. The damn things hadn’t worked. She knew they wouldn’t, but she had tried everything else.

  “Fine, I’ll come w
ith you.”

  “Oh no you don’t!” Keverin said quickly. “You will stay here Julia. I… I order you to stay!”

  She smiled sweetly. “I’ve told you before that you can’t order me.”

  “But I can,” Kadar said as he entered the tent. “I’m your chief, Julia. You will stay!”

  “Humph! As if you could stop me, I’m coming,” she said grumpily.

  “I can stop you. I can cast you out—” Kadar held up a hand to silence her incipient protest. “I can cast you out and make sure you leave. You will be a renegade. Kerrion and the others won’t like it but they can make you leave. Is that what you want?”

  The others could make her leave, but would they? Julia didn’t think they would, but then she hadn’t thought that they would sit back and do nothing while Tobiah destroyed the clans either.

  “All right,” she said with her thoughts racing. All she needed was her horse. “I’ll stay behind.”

  Keverin looked at her suspiciously, but finally he nodded. “I’ll be fine,” he whispered then.

  Kadar stood watching her for a long moment before ducking through the tent flap. Julia clenched a fist and followed him outside. She was in time to see Keverin mount Cavell at the head of his men. Brian was at his side. He smiled at her as she stepped out of her tent. Keverin swept a hand forward and the column moved out.

  She watched them leave even smiling at Alvin and Burke as they went by, but all the while she was thinking about her horse and Tobiah. This was his fault. If it hadn’t been for Tobiah, none of this would have happened. She wished the bastard would have a stroke and die! With Tobiah dead, everything would be all right again. Mazel, or Kadar, or one of the others could lead; it didn’t matter whom as long as it wasn’t Tobiah!

  She spun on her heel and went to find a horse. No one was guarding the Night Wind’s herd. All the warriors were with Tobiah fighting. She quickly singled out a pure white mare and threw her saddle blanket over its back followed by the saddle. She would ride fast but by a different route, she decided. She dared not be seen.

  “What are you doing?” Kerrion said from behind her.