by Stas Borodin
I pulled Mash by the sleeve to get his attention. The old scout quietly sat down next to me and began to study the mysterious spot. Then he put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed it with his strong fingers, expressing approval, and silently disappeared into the darkness.
For a while nothing happened, and then fleeting shadows fluttered on the hillside, something flashed in the moonlight, and then everything stopped.
A few minutes later, Mash appeared, and we quietly descended into the ravine where our camp was.
Gas spheres blinked and the concerned scouts were busy striking camp. One of the soldiers sat slightly apart and Nikos bandaged his hand. Everything was happening in complete silence. The horses made no sound, and people looked like disembodied spirits.
Soon, the entire squad was on horseback, spheres extinguished and weapons at the ready. We moved pretty quickly, and by dawn had travelled quite a distance.
In the morning I saw the prisoner. He was wrapped in a thick smelly blanket and bound by strong leather belts. Dirty feet in soft slippers were sticking out from the tight bundle. I also noticed that we had a few more wounded. Three more soldiers wore blood-soaked bandages.
“You have sharp eyes, my boy, just like a real owl!” Nikos approached me. “This time, we were lucky, and caught a rare beast.”
“We have an owl on our family coat of arms,” I replied, confused. “A white owl on a red field.”
I looked at the shoes sticking out of the blanket and could not understand what was so rare about this beast. The prisoner lay across the rump of the strongest horse and showed no signs of life.
“This is the first Amine we’ve taken alive.” Nikos was very pleased. “Master Dante wants to take him to the king as soon as possible.”
Now, I looked with great interest on the captured spy’s shoes. Amine were a sect of assassins from the mountain ranges of Patur. They were known for their agility and ruthlessness. If you needed to open the gates in a besieged fortress, steal secret documents or kill the enemy general, Amines were always at the ready. Little was known about this semi-mythical sect of assassins. Mostly stories, tales and legends. Living Amine did not fall into captivity, and they inspired such terror in nomads’ hearts that even the most refined tortures could not loosen their tongues.
“Now you understand why any arcanist needs a good bodyguard?” Nikos pointed at the prisoner. “Who knows what would have happened if he had reached our camp unnoticed.”
“He wanted to kill Master Dante?” I guessed.
“Or me, but rather both,” confirmed Nikos. “He wounded four of our own before they could subdue him!”
I looked at the wounded soldiers. These were the strongest and toughest fighters. Their legs were bandaged, and one had a bandaged arm.
“Their fighting technique is very unusual,” Nikos said. “Despite the fact that we attacked unexpectedly, he almost managed to break free. Our soldiers could not pursue him, and we were fortunate that Ash was lying in ambush and managed to throttle the spy.”
Ash was wounded in the arm. The sleeve of his jacket had been cut off, exposing the steel coils of muscles rolling under his tanned skin. Despite his youth and slender build, he was so strong that he could easily break the ribs of a horse just by squeezing his powerful legs.
The warrior caught my eye and smiled, flexing his muscles demonstratively.
I smiled back proudly, because I had also played an important role in the capturing of a spy.
Chapter 4
Our main camp was buzzing like a beehive. We immediately noticed that something was wrong. The stern royal guards greeted us with silent nods
We moved one after the other between the slender rows of tents, making our way forward. Master Dante and Nikos walked in front with the prisoner, and I walked at the back with the scouts. Looking around, I saw the wounded. There were many of them. Soldiers were sitting near the tents, basking in the sun. From all sides came the hum of grindstones, sharpening blunt and jagged weapons, and the rhythmic rumble of heavy forging hammers, straightening dents in shields and armour.
However, the faces of the soldiers were cheerful, from which I concluded that our army had won a victory. I was anxious to find my father and learn all the details.
The king’s tent stood in the very centre of the camp. It was surrounded by a double chain of soldiers in shining armour, large oval shields firmly planted on the ground, menacing battle-axes at the ready. The royal bodyguards. Master Dante entered the tent with the prisoner. Nikos ordered us to stay close and sent some soldiers to fetch water and provisions from the field kitchen.
Ash soon returned with two pots of porridge and a detailed report on events during our absence. Scouts have always been known for their ability to obtain information and provisions, and I could only envy such a talent.
“Three days ago, our scouts returned,” reported Ash. “They had seen a large body of the enemy by the White Lake. The nomads spotted them too, but our guys took off like greased lightning.”
“This we can do!” confirmed Mash, gobbling up the porridge.
“The king ordered the alarm to be sounded,” continued the scout. “And all as one rushed to the lake. The nomads were waiting for us, of course, and so the battle began. They say that the nomads were countless, but our guys gave them hell! They chased the barbarians around the lake all day long and had to make three full laps before they killed every last one of them!”
“A fascinating story,” Nikos agreed. “Only I’m more interested in the details. How many nomads were there? How well did they fight? I need more details.”
“Cook told me this story, and he doesn’t know the details”—Ash licked his spoon with gusto—“because he didn’t take part in the actual combat. Really, he looks like a clever guy, though not a fighter.”
And then I spotted Korn, coming out of the royal tent. I jumped to my feet and waved my hand, hoping to attract his attention. Korn did not see me, but one of the royal guards pointed his finger at me. The squire turned and cheerfully waved back. The guards parted and a minute later he was sitting next to us.
“You’ve changed!” Korn slapped me on the knee. “What did these barbarians do to you?”
“He wanted it himself,” Ash grinned. “We didn’t force him!”
“True,” I said. “And I don’t regret it.”
Ash gave me a thumbs-up and ran to the field kitchen.
“I would like to hear the whole story from a man more competent than our dashing cook.” Nikos sat closer to me. “Will Master Squire condescend to talk to the humble scouts?”
“Why not?” Korn grinned. “Cook, though, descended…”
I looked closer and noticed that the squire was holding his back unnaturally straight and did not bend his arm. It seemed that the squire had been wounded in battle. And what about my father? I wanted to bury Korn with questions but restrained myself. As a true scout, I waited patiently while he finished telling the story.
“It’s really not as good as it looks.” Korn stroked his wounded hand thoughtfully. “We faced a detachment of five hundred Alims on the lake shore. Obviously, they were merely foragers. They had just finished filling their water skins. Master Marius sent three hundred cavalry and two hundred infantry to intercept them. Seeing us, they threw down their belongings and fled. Our riders gave chase but got stuck in the wet sand.”
“Were many of our guys killed?” one of the scouts asked.
“No, the crossbowmen kept the nomads at a distance, not allowing them to get close. And their bows proved useless at that range. Only two dozen of ours were wounded, but the nomads got a good beating. They were also floundering in the deep mud, so our infantry finally managed to get close and finish off the rest. But as it turned out, it was just a diversion. While we were chasing the damned nomads along the lake shore, a larger group crept up from behind and hit us hard in the rear.”
“How did they do that?” Mash slapped his knee. “Have you all gone blind or what? Or
were you staring at the fight like some silly girls?”
“No.” Korn’s face darkened. “They were hidden by magic. By the time we saw them they were already close to His Majesty’s tent. Master Marius repulsed the attack with his guards, but the nomads did not even fight for real. Seeing that they were discovered, they simply fled.”
“It seems that we were tested.” Nikos said.
“Perhaps,” the squire nodded. “We have a lot of wounded, but not a single one killed. It seems to be a victory, but in fact there is nothing to boast about.”
“Master Keandr must seize the initiative,” said Nikos, “or we will suffer the fate of the Dragon Company.”
The scouts kept quiet, digesting the sorcerer’s words. We could only wait for the end of the military council and for new orders.
The council ended late that night. Aides and messengers came rushing out of the tent and hurried to deliver orders. We still didn’t know what our command had decided, but the soldiers around us began to fold tents and saddle horses.
Our camp, dormant just a minute ago, suddenly boiled with feverish activity. Soldiers helped each other put on their armour, excited squires called to each other, businesslike sutlers distributed dry rations.
One of the secretaries of the staff grabbed me by the arm. “Marcus Grimm? You are ordered to report immediately to headquarters. There’s a new assignment waiting for you.”
I pried the messenger’s tenacious fingers off my arm and pushed him away. “First I have to say goodbye to my comrades.” I looked back, perplexed. I had not expected that I would have to part with my new friends so soon.
“There’s no time, our master ordered…” hissed the secretary, still clinging to my clothes.
“Get lost, you bugger!” Ash towered like a mountain over the puny messenger. “Do you want to smell under my mare’s tail?”
The secretary released my hand and shrank back.
Ash laughed. “Skedaddle, you freak! We have our own superiors. We take our orders straight from Master Dante.”
I shook my head, stopping the scout, who was going to kick the shit out of the unlucky messenger.
“I will report as soon as my commander sets me free,” I said. “Tell that to my father!”
Ash seized me by the arm and pulled through the bustling camp. “Master Nikos is at the baggage train collecting supplies,” he muttered. “You were called at the wrong time, li’l bro. Mistar may take them all!”
I felt tears coming to my eyes. Who would have thought that one day I would be called a brother again.
Pacing behind the scout, I stared at the long braid whipping on his broad back. Men-at-arms pushed past with huge two-handed swords and great axes on their armoured shoulders, noble horsemen with heavy spears and jingling spurs looked scornfully from above, vociferous captains yelled, collecting their men, burly crossbowmen with painted pavises on their backs jostled through the swelling crowd.
All that I’d wanted before suddenly lost its meaning for me. In this very moment I realized that I did not belong to this world. My place was next to the silent scouts, under the hot sun and open skies, with the mysterious vast expanses waiting up ahead. Even admission to the Academy seemed somehow unreal. My destiny was to take a different path on this fork, but someone continued to choose for me.
Master Nikos was standing near the cart, checking supplies.
“Nikos!” I ran up to the young sorcerer. “I’ve just been transferred back to headquarters!”
“Hush, hush,” he stopped me. “Well, congratulations, young man, you’ll rise quickly through the ranks.”
I could not figure out whether he was joking or not. But his face remained solemn.
“I’m planning to ask my father to leave me with the scouts,” I blurted out. “You know it is very important to me.”
“Hmmm,” Nikos smiled. “Nobles do have their quirks… I’m flattered, Mr Wizard, but I assume that headquarters will benefit much more from your talents than we do.”
I opened my mouth ready to break into an angry tirade, but Nikos stopped me. “Don’t get me wrong, kid; I don’t want to hurt your feelings. However, a person with your special skills will be more useful in a more responsible post. Leave races through the mountains and valleys to the boneheads like our dear Ash.”
Ash proudly puffed out his chest and grinned. “I was lucky to share a meal with the son of Commander Marius,” he snapped. “And I can call him a brother.”
I did not know what to say in response, until I finally realized that I was just a hindrance to the squad. I might even put the entire party in mortal danger out of ignorance or lack of experience.
Nikos smiled, as if reading my mind. “I think that our acquaintance will benefit us all.” He held out his hand. “In any case, the patronage of a nobleman is a damned important thing.”
“Who is this noble?” I protested. “So far, I am not worthy even of the little finger on a scout’s foot.”
Ash laughed, slapping me on the back. “We were brothers equal in all as long as you shared all the hardships with us.” He bowed extravagantly, making intricate squiggles with his right hand. “But now that you have become a noble lord again, repugnant Ash is not even worthy of the dust on the soles of your noble shoes!”
I stared at my scout’s shoes, puzzled.
Ash winked slyly at me.
“You can keep the uniform as a souvenir.” Nikos shook my hand. “We’ll meet again, so I shall not bid you farewell. Good luck, kid!”
Heading to the staff tent, I looked back, but the raging sea of people had already swallowed my new friends. It was a strange feeling, as if something had snapped inside of me, as if I had irrevocably lost something important. It was a bitter feeling, but at the same time I realized that Master Nikos was right. Our paths diverged at this junction, and each of us went his own way.
✽✽✽
Father sat on a folding chair. His chest was strapped in bandages and his cheek sported a long scratch. Next to him, I saw a familiar figure wrapped in a cloak. Master Dante turned to me and inspected my attire meticulously.
“Master Nikos allowed me to keep the clothes,” I said hastily.
The sorcerer nodded and turned back to my father.
“The scout’s uniform suits you,” Father smiled. “However, it is time to change it to a suit of armour. From now on, you act under my direct command.”
He gestured to a low bench on his left. “My secretary was badly wounded in the latest skirmish and you are to take his place.” Father stroked the scratch on his cheek mechanically. “The Master Sorcerer praised you for your diligence, and if it were not for this unfortunate incident, I would have left you with the scouts until the end of the campaign.”
I looked up at Master Dante, but he did not even glance at me. His large hands with their black palms lay on the table, and his eyes were fixed somewhere in the distance, beyond the walls of the tent.
Father gestured that I must proceed with my duties, and I quickly unfolded the map that was lying on the edge of the desk.
“We are all agreed,” Father said, “it is necessary to seize the initiative. Until now, the Alims have only tested our strength but have never tried to attack in earnest. The spy you captured shed some light on the enemy’s plans. But we must act quickly, time is against us.”
Father bent over the map, inviting Master Dante to do the same.
“The enemy will accompany us constantly, dealing small blows from time to time, just to wear us down. Our heavy cavalry won’t be able to cope with their flying squads, and our infantry will be easy prey. Therefore, our retreat won’t be a great surprise. For a while the nomads will behave with extreme caution, but, believe me, once they see our backs, they will pounce upon us like hungry wolves!”
“They will attack us here.” Master Dante indicated on the map.
“That’s what I thought,” Father agreed. “Excellent location, excellent trap.”
“Are we going to let them?�
� The sorcerer frowned.
“But of course,” Father nodded. “It will be a trap for both armies. This time they won’t escape.”
“Excuse me, my lord, but we also have nowhere to hide if luck turns against us.” Master Dante was clearly not thrilled. “So far we have seen only the enemy’s advance units, who merely tested our strength. We still have not met their master-mage and don’t know a thing about his real strength.”
“We have learned the most important thing,” Father protested. “We have learned that he is a formidable and cunning foe, expert in the art of war. It is foolish to underestimate him and hope that he will make a mistake. It is necessary to force him to make a mistake.”
“It’s like a game of klatches,” agreed Master Dante. “Just don’t forget, my lord, that klatches is the Alims’ game. Even in a hopeless situation, a strong player can beat a weaker one.”
“But a strong player can still lose if he is too careless,” Father retorted. “Don’t forget that we have two aces up our sleeve! You and Master Keandr!”
“The enemy knows our cards.” Master Dante shook his head. “But we know not what the Alims have up their sleeves.”
“For too long, we were not interested in what goes on beyond the high walls of Lieh.” Father looked crestfallen. “Our agents grew fat on the borders; they sent us heaps of false information, perhaps even paid by the nomads themselves.”
“Maybe you just overrate our mysterious enemy,” Master Dante said. “All I saw was a chain of events not related to each other. I have not noticed any brilliant strategy. I am sorry, my lord, but the enemy has still not proved himself in battle. He has not earned our respect.”
Father winced. “I wish you were right. But those who could defeat the Dragon Company deserve our respect. And that cart with the severed heads! No, my friend, it’s not as simple as we would like it to be!”
“Then why do you think that an enemy this cunning will fall for it now?”
