by Guy Antibes
The days stretched on and Lotto finally became more comfortable riding a horse, no longer needing any liniment. Kenyr bought another set of clothes for the both of them a few days later. The ride helped Lotto get the horror of the training camp and the tedium of the mines out of his system. He looked forward to working as a scout. Both Kenyr and Gully told him story after story of their exploits on the road, for the weapons master had served as a scout in the Serytaran army and served a similar function for his father.
During mid-day breaks, Kenyr worked with Lotto and Gully at the side of the road to get them both back into fighting shape.
“I’m surprised that you didn’t lose too much, Lotto,” Kenyr said as they fought with practice swords Kenyr bought at an inn on the third day out from the mines. “Gully? More than serviceable for a scout. I’m sure you’ve got other skills that need a bit of honing and that happens in the field, am I correct?” Kenyr slapped Gully on the back.
Gully smiled, “Indeed. I learned more swordsmanship from Lotto and from you than I have in years.”
The camaraderie on the trip home warmed Lotto. He’d been a loner all of his short life. No, that wasn’t true. He’d had mentors, but the trip, once his backside settled down, was a journey of three men comfortable being around each other. If army life gave him the opportunity to do more of this, he had made the right choice. Lotto wondered if such friendships were common among boys of the same age. His memory before his transformation indicated that the old Lotto avoided noticing such things since he was always shunned in Heron’s Pond.
~
Captain Restella Beecher stood on a rise, looking over the shallow bowl of fields. Farmers would usually be plowing new rows preparing the fields for seeding, but with her forces on one side and with Baron Forthwith’s troops to her right, she knew that somewhere on the other side an enemy regiment hadn’t yet appeared. Who would have thought one of her father’s barons would become an enemy. The fields still lay fallow from winter except for clumps of green weeds beginning to emerge from the dark fertile soil.
She spotted three riders whipping their horses. The flash of arrows barely registered from this distance, but one man suddenly favored one shoulder and hunched over on his mount, urging it on. The soldier next to her waved a yellow flag as soon as Restella ordered and the men changed their direction towards her and soon the pounding of the hooves of their horses could be heard.
“Baron Ashdown commands a force half of our size, but his forces are more confident than they should be,” one of the scouts said as they saluted and moved to the rear for food and medical aid.
Silver turned his head towards the woods sheltering Forthwith’s men. Restella followed his gaze and looked back at her lieutenant.
“Could Forthwith have turned his coat?” Restella said. Anger mixed with fear. If she led her troops onto this battlefield and Lord Forthwith attacked, instead of protecting her flank, they would lose the day. She crushed her fingers into a fist. “We’ll make Forthwith pay for treachery.
“Withdrawal, Captain?”
Restella shook her head. “Not yet because I want to make absolutely sure about Lord Forthwith. We will fight only as long as we have to.” She beckoned for a lieutenant close by. “Get the camp broken down and make sure we have an open line to retreat.” Turning back to Silver, she said, “If our friendly baron moves towards our forces, we will wheel to attack his troops, kill the baron and leave the field. Send a soldier with a message to have the baron enter the field first and instruct the messenger to return immediately. Give him written instructions so there won’t be any questioning of my orders.”
Silver looked Restella in the eyes. Could he be testing her? “Our man might not return,” he said as he pulled a tablet of paper out of his saddlebag and scribbled the instruction with a pencil. He had her sign the message and ripped the page off and gave it to a waiting soldier.
“If the messenger doesn’t return, then we’ll lose less men and will withdraw before we even commit.” What motivation did it take these nobles to turn traitor? A flash of inspiration hit her. “If he commits, we will not kill him. He must be captured. I am sure my father and Mander Hart will want to know what motivates a baron to treasonous action.”
“Perhaps our messenger will return and the baron will proceed as ordered, ma’am,” Silver said.
They watched the soldier leave them and plunge into the woods.
“Let’s see what happens first. Order the troops, Lieutenant,” Restella said. She watched Silver take two more lieutenants down the hill and confer with the other officers prepared to charge with their men. One thousand soldiers began to order themselves. Silver sent the supply trains heading back the way they came. She wouldn’t have her troops waiting for the wagons if they had to retreat. Her gut instinct told her that the messenger wouldn’t return.
Horns blew and Baron Ashdown’s cavalry began to ride into the field while a flight of arrows came from Forthwith towards Valetan soldiers. They fell short and Restella’s capture of Baron Forthwith would have to wait. She mounted and left the hill. Silver had ordered the troops properly with archers and the cavalry protecting the infantry as they moved to the rear.
She heard the crashing of limbs as trees now blocked the road as the last of her men left. Their only war wizard had made quick work of the forest, but the effort disabled him for war wizards could only handle a few spells at a time. So few people had sufficient power in Valetan and Fessano hadn’t wanted to expose his charges so early in the war, but now the retreat justified her insistence, even if the man would be too weak to help them for a while.
The cavalry began to clash with Forthwith’s men as Restella joined them. In a few minutes, Ashdown’s riders would arrive. She pulled out her sword and slipped her buckler through the hand that worked the horse’s reins. As she rode down into the melee, the soldier that had been sent with the message exited the forest to join his comrades and turned around to fight his pursuers. Restella’s suspicions were confirmed.
The enemy’s cavalry split apart as Forthwith rode through them towards Restella carrying a lance. The chain mail shirt, that Restella wore, wouldn’t protect her from that weapon. She put her knees to her horse and moved so that her horse presented a smaller target. She had no choice but to deflect or evade the lance.
Forthwith’s betrayal was on display by the murderous rage on the man’s face. She couldn’t charge him but pulled on the reins and backed her horse up and as the baron advanced, she let go of the reins and leaned back to her right. She deflected the tip of the lance with her small shield as it slammed her arm into her chest and rode up her shoulder ripping up the chain mail. She slapped her sword around and it dug into the shoulder of the baron as he passed, knocking him from the horse.
Restella gasped and felt a hand grasp her clothes, pulling her up before she blacked out.
~
She came to on a cot in a strange place. Her arm burned in pain from her right wrist nearly all the way up to her shoulder. The healer looked closely at her face, but moved away as she opened her eyes.
“The retreat worked, ma’am. We have sent the injured baron to Beckondale in a secure wagon.”
“Where are we?” she asked trying to hide her bewilderment.
“About twenty leagues to the east of the vale. Ashdown has taken over half of Forthwith’s lands, but a bird has just arrived for you. Lieutenant Silver told me to inform you that the king has sent a full contingent to take them back. We are to wait here for two weeks until they arrive. Quite a few of Forthwith’s troops came over to our side when you knocked the baron down, by the way. You have more men in your command than you did before the battle. They were all impressed by your courage, Captain Beecher,” the wizard said as he finished wrapping the bandage on her arm.
Despite her heroics, defeat battered at Restella’s mind. Taking Forthwith helped matters, but she could have easily been killed by his lance. She fought to bring her mind into focus. “Where did he ever
get a lance? I’ve never seen one used before?” she said out loud.
Silver laughed, just walking into the partitioned-off room. Restella looked up at the high dark ceiling and felt relieved that her mentor had survived the day. “An ancient weapon to be sure and if we hadn’t been running, the man would have been peppered with arrows. Something is wrong with him and Fessano should get to the bottom of it all. He didn’t act quite right and might have been possessed, for all I know. You just lay back and relax. We’re in an old church. The rest of your command is camped around it.”
Restella closed her eyes and the pain that she had tried to ignore returned. She sat up. “The Moonstone! Did someone retrieve my sword?”
Silver bent down and put her weapon in her good hand, smiling. “We couldn’t lose our good luck charm.”
“Good luck.” Restella spat out the words. “We could have all been killed.”
“Right, Captain Beecher. All is right, and we didn’t. You sniffed out the betrayal and the baron is safely off of the field to be interrogated. I’d call that good fortune and good soldiering,” Silver said.
Restella said, with her eyes, still closed, “You knew as well, didn’t you?”
“I suspected, but we both came up with the same feeling. I’d call that fortunate, ma’am. It’s happened before, as you know. You just rest. You’ll feel better in the morning.”
The wizard chanted another spell and Restella couldn’t keep her mind clear.
~~~
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
~
KENYR WAS ABOUT TO LEAVE GULLY AND LOTTO at the bookshop to clean up as the afternoon began to wane. “Here is the pass to get you into the palace to see Mander. He can direct you to wherever you’ll be posted. I enjoyed our time out on the road together.”
“I must say, the ride back from the mines was better than the ride in. This time, if I do anything so stupid again, I hope I’ll be able to get word to you,” Lotto said as he walked Kenyr to the door. “I doubt if I’ve ever done anything so foolish, even from before…”
He turned back to help Gully get some tea ready. A lot of the bookstore’s food had spoiled, but there were some hard biscuits that would need some hot liquid to get them edible.
“So you work here?” Gully said as he dipped a biscuit into the steaming mug.
“No, I live here. Mander resides in the castle during the wars and he has his own house, anyway. He had to close the shop when the political situation heated up.” Two houses if one counted Lady Anna’s, but Lotto kept silent about that. “I’m free to read the inventory.” Lotto gave Gully a crooked smile. “I’ve gone through a fair number of these books.”
The room darkened with the sun setting and Lotto used a spell to light the lamp on the little kitchen table. “I suppose we can get a good night’s sleep before heading over to the castle in the morning.”
Gully’s eyebrows shot up. “You’ve got power! You could have escaped at any time.”
Lotto laughed. “My magic isn’t very well developed. I know more about the theory than the practice, I’m afraid. I worked with Fessano, the Court Wizard, for awhile.”
“What can’t you do?”
Lotto sighed. “I can’t bring back my mother and father. I can’t have memories of a normal childhood. I can’t figure out what I’m to do with my life.”
Gully recovered from his shock. “Be patient. Spend some time in the scouts with me and we’ll get you straightened out. Let’s get out of here and have something to eat and drink at a tavern. Know of any good ones?”
That sounded like a great idea to Lotto. They left the bookshop and walked to an inn close by, entering the dining room.
Gully looked around a little nervously at the clean tables and the well-dressed clientele. “This is a posh place,”
“Lotto! Haven’t seen you for a while, nor Mander either,” the skinny bartender said.
“I’ve been out of the city. This is my friend Gully,” Lotto said, leaving Mander out of his reply. “Gully, this is Genner, he runs this place.”
Genner shook his shiny bald head. “My wife runs it. I just get to take orders from customers and take a lot of guff from her.” They all smiled. “Any table. It’s a slow night.”
Gully led Lotto away from the bar. “Habit. Back of the room and face the door.” Lotto just shrugged his shoulders. “Is the food good?”
“Genner’s wife may complain, but she also is a good cook.” Lotto rubbed his hands together in anticipation.
A look of pensiveness crossed Gully’s face.
“What’s wrong?” Lotto said.
“This isn’t the kind of place to get roaring drunk.”
Is that what Gully wanted to do? Lotto had never sought solace in drink. He realized just then that he tucked away the things he couldn’t do anything about and could live in the moment without the need for alcohol. It had gotten him through the mines and could get him through his future. Gully must seek relief from the past. Lotto could still help out his friend.
As soon as they had eaten, Lotto led Gully around Beckondale until he found the tavern that Kenyr had taken him the time he earned his sword back. Gully drank and sang with the more boisterous crowd than at the inn where they ate. Lotto finally got to see Gully truly unwind from years at the mines.
~
Lotto rummaged around for clothes for the both of them. It had taken Gully some time to revive from the night out. Lotto had gone easy on the drinks, knowing that he didn’t want to go through what Gully was experiencing just before heading off to the castle.
The scout was somewhat shorter than him, so Lotto found a pair of breeches and socks for Gully. They were much the same across the shoulders, so Gully didn’t look too bad in his outfit. Lotto wore the outfit he usually put on when he dined with Mander and Anna. He found his swords in their proper place.
“Serytar weapons.” Gully said. “I’ve seen a few of those on nobles.”
“My father’s. He came from Serytar and was a noble.”
Gully squinted at Lotto. “Why do you want to be a scout then?”
“My origins are a bit murky and I’d like to keep it that way.” He did pull out the sword. “Isn’t this a wonderful sword though?” He handed it and the long knife to Gully.
“A little long for a scout, but the long knife is a thing of beauty.” He peered at Lotto. “I know that you can use these better than I, but you need some proper training to know when to use ‘em. Let’s see if we can get posted together.”
Lotto would like that. Gully had become a friend and he’d like that relationship to continue as they set off towards the castle. The guards looked at the pair sideways as he read the pass and obviously didn’t like what he saw, but the pass got them through.
They reached the castle doors and passed another guard who called a page. “These are for Mander Hart. It says to take them where ever he is.”
Lotto hoped the early hour would prevent Mander from consulting with King Goleto. The page took them past the tower where Lotto had often gone up to visit Fessano and into an area that looked like private apartments, after consulting with another guard.
The page knocked on the door and Mander opened it, his shirt out and in bare feet. “Lotto!” The hug startled Lotto, but he hugged the man back.
“Thank you for rescuing me.”
Mander laughed. “This is Gully Workman, I suppose? You’ve had a colorful career, Lieutenant.”
“Ah. Pleased to meet you Lord Hart,” Gully said.
“Come in. Tell me about the mines.”
Lotto entered the rooms that were decorated better than Mander’s own house. “How did you know that’s where I was? I never did get a chance to get a message out.”
“Thank your Moonstone. Where is Princess Restella?”
Lotto felt abashed. He’d never told Gully about the Moonstone and now Mander blurted one of his secrets out. He closed his eyes and easily found the thread he sought. “She is, she is. Here! In the castle!”
>
“Arrived last night. Captain Beecher is her army title. She suffered an injury in a skirmish to the northwest on Baron Forthwith’s lands. Heron’s Pond is part of his domain.”
“Is it serious?” Lotto said while he drew a map of the various noble lands in his head.
“Enough to pull her from the field.” Mander looked at Gully. “Silver is with her.”
Gully’s face brightened. “He’s here? Maybe I can get my old job back.”
“No. Not right now. I’ve got a different job for the both of you. I’m creating a quick strike force of scouts, but this one is structured differently.”
“A spy patrol?” Gully said. “I heard of those, assassins and cutthroats. I don’t know if I want to do that.”
Mander laughed. “Nothing like that planned, Workman. The scouts are set up to act bit more independently than they would be in the field. Are you up for it?”
If anything, Lotto considered himself flexible. “I’m up for it. I didn’t tell you that Jessie, the healer-woman who helped me in Heron’s Pond, died at the hands of Oringian raiders. I couldn’t just sit around in the bookstore and do nothing.”
Mander frowned and then nodded. “That explains why you left so suddenly. You’ll have to tell me what recruiting station you went to. I’m not a proponent of using a recruiting office as a site to impress soldiers.”
“So we are definitely at war,” Lotto said.
“Fomented by Daryaku, the Emperor of Dakkor. One or more of his sorcerers are doing something to the minds of our allies, turning them against us. Restella captured a northern baron and Fessano was able to neutralize the spell enough to get the man to talk. Now where did you sign up?”
Lotto told him and then Mander went to a large worktable and wrote out two orders.
“I’m going to send you into the field among a detachment of scouts. Take these to General Reallo. I think our most serious problems will come from the west. There’s only Oringia to the east. Do you want to meet the Princess again?” Mander looked Lotto in the eyes.
