“Rhodruthain mentioned the New God,” said Calliande.
Kalussa scoffed “Rhodruthain is a trickster and a traitor. He taught us elemental magic and founded the Order of the Arcanii, but he helped the Master Talitha betray and murder my uncle Kothlaric and steal the Seven Swords.” She scowled. And had Rhodruthain and Talitha not betrayed the great High King, then the War of the Seven would not have started, and there would be no need for Kalussa to serve as a Sister of the Order.
At least Talitha had died for her crimes.
“Cathair Animus,” said Calliande. “Do you know where it is?”
“Far to the east,” said Kalussa, “even further east than the Sovereign’s old citadel at Urd Maelwyn. It was one of the cities of the gray elves in ancient days, but now it is a ruin, like all the cities of the gray elves.”
“The gray elves,” said Calliande. “Do you know anything about them?”
“Only a little,” said Kalussa. “Just what I learned when studying with the Order. Once the gray elves ruled all this land, but then the Sovereign came and warred against them for many centuries before Connmar Pendragon founded Owyllain. In the end, the Sovereign defeated the gray elves, and the survivors fled into the Illicaeryn Jungle to the south.” She shrugged. “I do not know if they are properly called the gray elves, but that is always what we called them, for they wear gray cloaks like Lord Ridmark’s. They have kept aloof from us, but they did come to fight when the High King Kothlaric marched against the Sovereign.”
“I see,” said Calliande. She sighed. “I suppose I am trying to figure out a way to force Rhodruthain to send us back home. Though I need to find my children first.”
Kalussa hadn’t thought of that. Could Calliande force Rhodruthain to send them back? If so, that would be that. Kalussa would lose her chance to persuade Ridmark to take her as a concubine. But, well, she couldn’t deny Ridmark and his family a chance to return home.
“That would be a good place to start,” said Kalussa.
“Kalussa,” said Calliande. “Thank you for helping Ridmark.”
Kalussa blinked. “What?” Was Calliande trying to find out what had happened while they were alone together? Nothing had happened, much to Kalussa’s disappointment, but as she stood so close to the powerful Keeper, Kalussa was glad that nothing had happened.
“When you helped him with the urvaalgs,” said Calliande. “Six of them would have been a challenge even for a Swordbearer of his experience. Thank you.”
“Oh,” said Kalussa. “He is a very great warrior.”
“He is,” said Calliande.
Conscience seized control of Kalussa’s mouth. “But…nothing happened, yes? Nothing inappropriate. Lord Ridmark behaved very gallantly. I was perfectly safe the entire time I was with him.”
Calliande blinked, her confusion obvious, and then a sudden tinge of red went into her cheeks. “Ah. That wasn’t what I was asking, but…yes, that is good to know.”
Kalussa felt like a fool. She liked to think she approached matters of marriage and concubinage with a clear head, but clearly, she needed more practice.
###
Ridmark looked around the top of the hill, considering what to do next.
It was late afternoon, and they had reached the hilltop without incident. As Parmenio had promised, it was broad and wide, with enough room for the men to rest comfortably and a commanding view in all directions. Archaelon ought to have posted scouts here, but the hill was deserted. That thought cheered Ridmark. Archaelon was clearly a powerful necromancer if he could create something like the Champion, but perhaps he was not a capable commander.
Sir Tamlin and his men returned, bringing large quantities of supplies. The muridachs had stripped most of the dead of their bronze armor and weapons, but the muridachs had shown little interest in the food and water. The road was deserted of enemies, and Ridmark told Sir Tamlin to continue scavenging supplies from the wagons until nightfall.
Sir Parmenio’s scouts began returning, reporting the surrounding hills empty of enemies. Some of the scouts had dared to go all the way to Castra Chaeldon, and they reported that the enemy had withdrawn entirely into the fortress, the Confessor’s orcs and undead creatures manning the battlements. It seemed that Archaelon had decided to hole up inside the castra until the moons reached their proper configuration.
“Very well,” said Ridmark as the sun went down. Calliande, Kalussa, Tamlin, Aegeus, Parmenio, Rallios, and the other decurions had all gathered around him. “We shall camp here for the night, and then march the rest of the way to Castra Chaeldon.”
“And then?” said Tamlin.
“And then we will lay siege to the castra,” said Ridmark, “and decide how we shall deal with the traitor and free the captives.” He looked at Rallios. “We’ll need sentinels.”
The decurion nodded. “I’ll see to it.”
“Sir Parmenio,” said Ridmark, “we’ll want some scouts out.” He looked at the sky. “How many moons out tonight?”
“Four,” said Calliande. She must have done the calculation in her head.
Ridmark nodded. “Good. That will give them enough light to see by. Have them watch the road and the approaches to the hill. If the enemy comes for us, we’ll want an advance warning.”
“I’ll see it done, Lord Ridmark,” said Parmenio.
Kalussa and Calliande busied themselves by using their spells to set magical fires or conjure balls of magic flame to keep the chill at bay. Ridmark did a few circuits of his makeshift camp, making sure everything was satisfactory.
Then he gave the charge of the camp to Tamlin, went near one of the whirling spheres of fire Calliande had summoned, and lay down to go to sleep.
A few moments later someone lay down next to him.
His first alarmed reaction was that it was Kalussa. But to his relief, it was Calliande. She rolled up her green cloak to serve as a pillow and settled next to him with a sigh, gazing up at the sky.
They lay in silence for a while. Ridmark had not spent this much time lying next to Calliande since she had grown ill. At first, she had been too sick, and then she had been too broken with grief. She hadn’t wanted company, not anyone, and she had refused to let the children see her like that.
He turned his head and saw that she was lying on her side, her head resting against the rolled cloak as she watched him.
“What are you thinking?” she said in a quiet voice.
“I am thinking,” said Ridmark, “that I have been in Owyllain two days, and I already have an army.”
She smiled a little. “Maybe if we’re here long enough, you’ll be the new High King of Owyllain.”
“God and the apostles, I hope not.” He hesitated. “The boys…”
Her eyelids fluttered as she drew on the Sight.
“They’re still alive,” said Calliande. “Healthy, too, as far as I can tell. But they haven’t moved. They’re still in Castra Chaeldon, still in the middle of that necromantic aura.”
“Then you’re right,” said Ridmark. “They’ll be safe for another seven days.” Nearly six now, he supposed.
“Yes,” whispered Calliande. “Safe. But I think about what it must be like for them, what’s happening to them…God and the saints, Ridmark. It tears me up. I didn’t think I could know any more sorrow and fear than I already did, but I just have to think of them in some lightless dungeon cell, and…”
He took her hand. “We’ll get them out.” Her fingers felt thin and cold against his own. “One way or another, we’re killing Archaelon and getting them out.”
Calliande took a shuddering breath, and he saw the strain as she pulled herself together. “Yes. Yes…do you think we can win, Ridmark?”
“We have a fair chance,” said Ridmark. “Two hundred and fifty men in bronze armor doesn’t seem like much, but they’re all veterans. And Archaelon isn’t expecting a Swordbearer and the Keeper of Andomhaim to walk up to his gate. If we hit him hard enough, we’ll be able to take him. He might
be a powerful necromancer, but he’s still a wizard, and Oathshield will tear through any defenses he raises around himself.”
“You almost make me believe it,” said Calliande. She tried to smile. “Certainly, you made Tamlin and Aegeus and Rallios and the others believe it.”
“Aye,” said Ridmark. “I just hope I am not leading them to their deaths.”
Because if he had to choose between their lives and the lives of his children, he knew how he would choose. But it wasn’t as if the hoplites and the Arcanii didn’t have a stake in this fight as well. Archaelon had betrayed them. Their comrades were prisoners within Castra Chaeldon. Their city would come under attack from Justin Cyros or the Confessor if Archaelon held the castra.
“You certainly convinced Kalussa,” said Calliande. “She respects you so much she was prepared to argue with every other Arcanius Knight here.”
Ridmark grimaced. “She respects me a little too much.”
“What do you mean?”
Ridmark sighed. He hadn’t wanted to discuss this with her, but neither would his conscience allow him to keep it from her. “She explained how the men of Owyllain have a tradition of concubinage similiar to the orcs of the three baptized kingdoms, and she volunteered to take up that role.”
He expected Calliande to get angry, or to laugh it off.
Instead, she only looked sad.
“Oh,” she said in a small voice. “So that’s was what she meant. I thought she looked a little embarrassed.”
Ridmark frowned. “I refused her, of course.” Did she think he had slept with Kalussa? The idea stung more than he would have thought.
“I know,” said Calliande. “I’m…I’m sorry, though.”
“For what?” said Ridmark.
Calliande closed her eyes and opened them again. “For not…for not being very attentive to you lately. For making it harder to refuse her than it might otherwise have been.”
She looked so miserable that he wanted to pull her close, but he didn’t. She never liked to look weak when in public as the Keeper of Andomhaim.
“You have been ill,” said Ridmark in a quiet voice, “and in mourning.”
“So have you,” said Calliande. “In mourning, I mean. She was your daughter too.”
They lay in silence for a moment.
“Yes,” said Ridmark. “But the blow was harder for you.”
“I know,” said Calliande. She closed her eyes again. “I’ve not…I’ve not been well lately. Not at all. But I can’t dwell on that now. You need me. Gareth and Joachim need me.” She opened her eyes, and some of the old fire was there. “I can’t fail them the way I failed Joanna.”
Ridmark wanted to tell her that she hadn’t failed Joanna, that no one could have saved their daughter. But he had tried to tell her that, and she had refused to listen, sinking further into her grief. Right now, though, she had a mission. She had a purpose.
Archaelon was about to meet the woman who had challenged Tymandain Shadowbearer to his face and survived.
Assuming Ridmark didn’t kill him first.
“Ridmark,” whispered Calliande. “I love you.”
“I love you.”
“And I just wanted to say,” said Calliande, “that without you, this would have…”
A half-dozen yards away one of the hoplites strolled to the edge of the hilltop, dropped the front of his trousers, and relieved himself down the slope with a groan of relief.
Calliande’s hand flew to her mouth, and to his amazement, Ridmark saw that she was fighting down a laugh.
“That was ill-timed,” said Ridmark.
She smiled. “Not for that hoplite.”
Now it was Ridmark’s turn to hold back a laugh.
“I think what I was going to say,” said Calliande, “was that I am getting too old to sleep on the ground. Or in the middle of a soldiers’ camp.”
“Try to get some sleep,” said Ridmark. “We’ll need to be rested tomorrow.”
She followed his advice.
Ridmark stared at the sky, wondering if he would be able to sleep with so many fears clogging his mind.
But to his surprise, he felt asleep almost at once.
His sons would need him to be rested tomorrow.
Ridmark awoke with a jolt as shouting filled his ears.
He surged to his feet, ignoring the ache in his knees and shoulders, his hand falling to Oathshield’s hilt on reflex. Calliande was up almost as fast, white light playing around her hands. Ridmark looked around. It was just before dawn, the eastern sky brightening over the rocky hills.
“Lord Ridmark!”
Ridmark turned as Parmenio ran over, breathing hard.
“What is it?” said Ridmark.
“The enemy comes,” said Parmenio.
Chapter 15: Counterstrike
Tamlin had slept in his armor, so he needed only to don his helmet and wrap his sword belt around his waist.
As he did, he watched Ridmark Arban.
The Shield Knight could fight, that much was obvious, but Tamlin knew there was a long distance between keeping one’s head in a fight and keeping one’s head while commanding men in battle. Yet while Ridmark looked grim, he looked no grimmer than he usually did.
It seemed that the Shield Knight was used to this kind of thing.
Tamlin followed Ridmark, Calliande, and Sir Parmenio as they walked to the northern edge of the hilltop. Around him them camp awoke as men got to their feet, checking armor and shields and adjusting their sword belts. Sir Aegeus jogged over to join Tamlin, bronze helmet in one hand and his shield on his left arm.
“Looks like we’re due for another fight,” said Tamlin.
Aegeus grinned. “Good. It’s been too long.”
Tamlin laughed. “Yes, a whole day. It’s a wonder you didn’t go mad with boredom. Pity I rescued you from Urd Maelwyn. You’d never have been bored then.”
Aegeus snorted. “Aye, then I would have been the champion of the gladiatorial games, not you.”
Tamlin grinned back, but his good humor faded as he saw the scouts waiting at the northern edge of the hill. Once of the scouts had taken a wound to the shoulder, blood trickling down his arm. Calliande stepped forward, white light flaring around her fingers as she put her hand on the scout’s temple. The hoplite flinched, and Calliande grimaced, but his wound vanished as she stepped back.
Rallios and Kalussa jogged over, Kalussa tugging at her armor.
“What have you found?” said Ridmark.
“A large force of orcish warriors and undead are coming this way,” said Parmenio.
“How many?” said Rallios.
“About three hundred, I think,” said the scout that Calliande had healed.
“About a hundred orcs, and maybe two hundred undead,” said Parmenio. “Three miles to the northwest, and they are coming straight for us.”
Ridmark looked to his wife. “Calliande?”
She drew herself up, took a deep breath, and a dreamy, vacant expression came over her face, almost as if she had put herself into a trance. Her eyelids fluttered, and her eyes darted back and forth, looking at something no one else could see. This had to be the spell or the power she had called the Sight, which seemed to let her see both magical auras and far-off places.
Her expression came back into focus.
“Yes,” she said. “He’s exactly right. There are about two hundred undead creatures three and a half miles to the northwest, and they’re heading right for us. I think they’ll be here in another quarter of an hour at the most.”
Ridmark nodded. “Sir Parmenio, what’s the terrain like to the northwest?”
Parmenio pointed at the rocky hills. “They will almost certainly have to travel up that valley. It’s the only place a large force can move with any speed. Then they will swarm up the hill and attack us.”
“I see,” said Ridmark. He tapped his fingers against the bamboo staff. “What I wouldn’t give for some horses just now.”
It took Ta
mlin a moment to remember what horses were.
“It seems our best option is to remain here,” said Rallios. “We have the high ground, and they will have to come to us.”
“Or,” said Tamlin, “they’ll wait at the foot of the hill and keep us here. Or they want to hold us in place until Archaelon can summon a larger force to deal with us.”
“Is the Champion with the undead?” said Ridmark.
“We didn’t see it among the undead or the orcish warriors,” said Parmenio.
“I don’t think any of the undead are individually that powerful,” said Calliande. “I suspect the Champion would have stood out among them like a tree among the grass.”
Ridmark nodded again. “Of the Arcanii we have with us, how many of them can use fire magic?”
“Myself and two others,” said Kalussa.
“My lord, we must act now,” said Rallios.
“I know,” said Ridmark. “Decurion, select fifty men and have them accompany Lady Calliande and me. Kalussa, get those other two Arcanius Knights and have them join us immediately.” Kalussa nodded and ran off. Tamlin wondered how he got the imperious young woman to obey him so quickly. “Decurion, you’re going to take a hundred men and head to the right side of the valley. Conceal yourselves below the crest of the hill. Sir Tamlin, take the remaining men and go to the left side of the valley. Conceal yourselves there.”
“And what are you going to do, sir?” said Rallios.
“We’re going to go to the middle of the valley and wait for the enemy,” said Ridmark.
Tamlin frowned. “Even with your sword, Lady Calliande’s magic, and the fire of the Knights, fifty men will be quickly overwhelmed.”
“No,” said Ridmark, “I don’t think we will.”
Aegeus frowned. “I salute your confidence, sir, but even I think it might be misplaced.”
Sevenfold Sword: Champion Page 19
