Red Rowan: Book 2: All Gone, the Gods

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Red Rowan: Book 2: All Gone, the Gods Page 42

by Helen Gosney


  We have few painkillers in the camp, but these men have harvested willowbark when possible on the way back from Trill, at their Captain’s direction, so at least we now have a small supply to help our injured men. Thank the Gods for this brave forester who knows his trees & has the wit to use his knowledge. I have restitched part of his wound & bound his ribs more tightly in an effort to stabilise his chest wall a little better so that he might breathe more easily, but it will still be very difficult & very painful for him. All the same, his brave spirit is undaunted.

  The Captain was horrified to find us all still here. He cannot believe that no assistance has been sent to us, and he will not accept it. The lack of help from Den Siddon has only made him more resolute in his intention to get all of his remaining troopers home. And he truly means ‘all’… he would not abandon the worst-injured men before and he will not abandon them now. But I truly do not see how he can hope to do it. The men are sunk so deep in despair that nothing can move them and I believe they will all die here now. It is a terrible thing to contemplate, but I cannot see an alternative.

  Next day

  We are on our way home to Den Siddon as I write this.

  I cannot believe it, but it is so. Incredibly, Capt. Rowan has procured carts from a farm he passed coming back from Trill, plus a few herbs & potions & some clean sheets to use as bandages. I don’t know how he has achieved this, any more than I know how he managed to get these miserable, dispirited men who had lost all hope to make the great effort that they are now making. All I know is that he has done it, despite his own severe pain & injuries & the men seem determined to get back to their families at all costs. Truly he is an inspirational man. We will undoubtedly lose more of these brave men on the way, but perhaps some will survive.

  Capt. Rowan rides at the head of our little convoy. Despite his obvious pain & difficulty breathing he will not ride in a cart & nobody has been able to persuade him to do so. Truly he is an incurably stubborn man, but I suspect he is also correct in saying that his troopers need to see him leading them home. Nobody else was able to motivate them to make the effort to get home in spite of themselves, nobody else could solve the problem of transporting the very sick men & I truly think that nobody else will be able to keep the men on the move if Rowan fails.

  He is brave, strong & stubborn beyond belief, but he is also seriously injured & has little thought for his own wellbeing, & I fear that he will not survive this journey he is so determined to pursue. He says that his anger at the Commandant’s neglect of his injured troopers will sustain him & I pray that he is right. Certainly there is little that we healers can do for him, with our supplies all but gone & only the things from the farm left to us. And of course any willowbark we can harvest for ourselves along the way.

  His troopers support him as best they can, particularly the men who were with him at Trill. They are all much troubled by their experiences there, but their determination to get home is astonishing. Capt. Rowan has made it clear that every man here, whether officer, trooper or indeed healer, must do whatever they can to assist their fellows or we shall not succeed in our trek. And they do – the pettiness of inter-garrison rivalries that marked our troop before & after leaving Den Siddon to come to Messton has been forgotten & now we are truly one troop. ‘Red Rowan’s Troop’, as the men say.

  2 days later

  We have been joined by a small troop from Den Siddon; they bring desperately needed medical supplies mainly. They say the Commandant would have them all hanged if he knew they were here, and the situation at Den Siddon is very volatile. It seems that it is only the discipline and loyalty that Rowan himself has instilled into the men that prevents serious rioting or worse. All the same, the men from the garrison simply had to try & help us as best they could and so this little troop has managed to get to us. Brave, brave men.

  Of course we have lost more men on our journey, but the remainder are much cheered by the knowledge that they haven’t been completely abandoned. Capt. Rowan leads us still & his anger at the Commandant’s actions is undiminished, but he struggles to breathe & his injured shoulder isn’t healing as it should. I have reopened the shoulder wound & drained it, but it requires more than can really be done under our present conditions. In any case, Capt. Rowan is more concerned with getting his men back to Den Siddon. He fears that they may not get going again if they stop for too long. The poor man frets for his troopers & their suffering, frets for those we have lost, but he is still strong in his determination to get his men home. Truly he is a man of courage. And he is an inspiration to all of us.

  Sometime later

  The days crawl by in an endlessness of pain & suffering for our brave men. We have lost many & continue to lose a few more each day. Many of those in the carts have contracted lung fever, but luckily there are few other diseases appearing & most of those still able to ride are not affected. Sgt. Nils’ supplies allow us to help ease their pain a bit & keep them going. The rain that has plagued us is relenting at last, but the mud hinders our progress.

  I tried to stop Rowan & his men when they plodded through the mud beside their horses. Madness, I thought it, particularly as Rowan could scarcely breathe. He smiled & told me politely that they do it to save their horses’ strength. If the horses fail, we will all fail.

  My concern was & is that we will all fail if Rowan fails. He thanked me for my concern, told me he’d ride again soon & went on his way in the cursed mud. Truly, his stubbornness knows no bounds.

  Sgt. Pendtsen told me later that Rowan won’t ask his men to do something that he won’t do himself & that is why he struggles beside them. And if he should fail, the men will continue their trek in honour of him. Their loyalty to this brave, indomitable man is a wonderful thing among such horrors as we have seen.

  Rowan has been proven right & I was wrong. The horses must work very hard to drag the heavy farm carts through the mud, though the teams are changed often and certainly they need all the strength they have as their condition gives out.

  The sheer courage & determination of all the troopers is astonishing. Of course they have their times of despair, but not one of them will give up & let their brave Captain down. He still leads us, I’m not sure how. I think it is only his physical fitness & sheer stubbornness that has got him so far, but he is simply unstoppable.

  We have all lost track of the days & nobody truly cares if it is the Gods’ Day or Midsummer Festival, but… Den Siddon is on the horizon & we are almost home.

  Capt. Rowan has sent Sgt. Nils & his brave troopers back to barracks, with the gratitude of all of us. Rowan is exhausted & struggling now, but I am in awe of him. I cannot believe he has got any of his ragtag men home, but he has. He frets that there are only 127 men still alive, but in truth none of them would still be alive if not for him. He cannot see it himself, but it is so & all of the troopers know it. He cannot see that he has done anything extraordinary, but this quietly-spoken young man, Rowan del’Quist, is exceptional and should be awarded the highest possible honours for his courage, selflessness & his devotion to his men & his duty against all odds.

  Signed this day, against all expectation, just outside Den Siddon

  Farran Endelsson,

  Master Healer, Red Rowan’s Troop

  ***

  Report from near Messton-near-Edge

  I, Lt. Fess Aaronson, write this report in haste on my way to Den Siddon from the battlefield of Messton-near-Edge.

  I bear a report and urgent request for assistance from Capt. Rowan d’Rhys del’Quist of Den Siddon, who has taken command of our few remaining troops at Messton, he being the only man of Captain’s rank who is able to function in spite of his wounds.

  Our troops are in a hopeless position: they are heavily outnumbered by the forces of Duke Rollo of Plait & all are injured, 300 or so severely. The remaining 200 or so men who are less badly injured will try to defend them in spite of their wounds when Rollo attacks again, as he surely will. Retreat is not an option. Capt.
del’Quist will not leave his seriously wounded troops behind, defenceless, & there is no way to transport them to safety. The remainder of our original force of 2000 men are dead or missing & feared dead.

  All of our troopers have fought bravely & well today, in spite of Rollo’s superiority of numbers, & we have gained some ground & inflicted heavy casualties on them.

  Capt. del’Quist has been inspirational, leading his men with true courage, rallying the troopers to him as their own leaders fell, & our casualties would have been even higher if not for his leadership and heroism in spite of his own injuries.

  Capt. del’Quist believes the families of our courageous men deserve to know of their fate. He sends me with this request for assistance, knowing it is certain that neither he nor his brave troopers can survive Rollo’s inevitable attack tomorrow, but still in the very faint hope that there may somehow be one or two survivors. If this is the case they will certainly be in dire need of aid.

  I am accompanied by Cadets Thom Blunt and Bryn Harsson of Den Siddon, the youngest of our troopers and the only Cadets among the few that survive who are still able to ride. They were sent by Capt. del’Quist simply so that they do not lose their lives at Messton as so many brave men already have, and as he & his pitifully few remaining men undoubtedly will. His compassion in the face of such carnage and tragedy as we have experienced today at Messton is extraordinary, but it is the mark of the man.

  We rest now for a short time as we simply must, and I grieve for my brave friends and comrades, but we will continue on to Den Siddon at our best speed soon & hope that the relief troops from the garrison may somehow find a few survivors at Messton.

  Signed this day on the road between Messton-near-Edge & Den Siddon

  Fess Aaronson

  Lieutenant, Den Siddon

  ***

  Excerpts from private journals

  Excerpts from private journal of Farran Endelsson, Healer

  At Den Siddon

  Our troop from Den Kallen has arrived at Den Siddon today as part of the Commandant’s muster of troops from north, east, central & parts of southern Wirran to combat Duke Rollo of Plait.

  I haven’t been to Den Siddon before & I’m surprised at its size, Surprised too at the youth of its Captain. Of course I knew he was young, but still… He made it his business to introduce himself to me after we’d arrived & settled ourselves. A Siannen forester, which again I knew, but yet it’s a surprise to see such a one in the Wirran Guard. Capt. Rowan d’Rhys del’Quist, ‘Red Rowan’ as the men call him. He has a formidable reputation for one so young: Captain of Den Siddon, dual Champion, Weapons Master & Horse Master, all of which speak for themselves, & he’s probably the most admired & respected Guardsman in Wirran. Certainly he is the man expected to lead the combined Wirran forces in the unlikely event the Commandant does not do so himself, and the unanimous opinion among the gathered Captains is that they would be proud to follow him.

  The man himself is tall, handsome, physically powerful and very fit – indeed I was struck by the fitness of the entire garrison. I doubt there are any obese, time-serving penpushers here. But I digress. The Captain has an undeniable presence & charisma about him, but he is quietly spoken & approachable, though blunt, & he has a most refreshing lack of arrogance. He has the legendary politeness & courtesy of all foresters & if rumour is true, all of their stubbornness too. Mind you, I suspect he would certainly need both to deal with the Commandant on a daily basis. But there is a deep sadness within him.

  ***

  The Commandant has given a lengthy speech to the men on the glory of war & the wonderful battle to come, but his Captain said little on the subject. Little more, indeed, than “Good luck, lads. We’ve only been playing until now, but ‘tisn’t a game any more. Just try & remember your training, look out for each other & be bloody careful. And may you all come home safely to your families.”

  The Commandant wasn’t happy with him. Though he chose him himself, he has an obvious dislike for his young Captain for some unfathomable reason & makes little effort to even basic politeness. The Captain is very, very good at keeping his feelings hidden, & his behaviour & bearing was exemplary, but his eyes blazed at talk of “glories of war” & he left as soon as he decently could. I don’t know how he copes with the Commandant’s attitude & sheer rudeness, it must make his duties unnecessarily difficult.

  If the Commandant expected another homily on the splendour of warfare I think he’s chosen the wrong man. The Captain is a brilliant, fearless fighter, Weapons Master after all & of course he will do his duty, but he’ll take no joy in it this time. Certainly he’s one of the few officers who’s genuinely concerned for the safety & welfare of his troops. The rest of them seem to be dazzled by the Commandant’s “glories”. Fools.

  ***

  The Commandant has led us to Messton- near –Edge, much to the dismay of his Captains and much to their surprise has left us here, committed against Rollo’s forces, and returned to Den Siddon to take command of the reserve troops remaining there.

  We’d all expected that Capt. Del’Quist would be Troop Commander in the Commandant’s sudden absence, but we were all wrong. It seems the Commandant was concerned about the Captain’s youth and inexperience [though these don’t stop him doing an excellent job of leading the biggest garrison in Wirran, as Capt. Yianni himself muttered] and most insultingly, in his own words, expressed the opinion that he is a ‘mere competition swordsman with no experience of combat’. There was uproar among the Captains at such disrespect for the dual Champion. To his great credit, Capt. Del’Quist refrained from showing his disgust and merely agreed that he had in fact won a few competitions as every man there had, and pointed out that none had combat experience owing to the long period of peace, and pledged his support for whoever the Commandant chose as Troop Leader. There was much protest from the assembled Captains, all of whom wanted Rowan as their Leader, but to no avail. The Commandant was adamant. And so Capt. Yianni Josefson of Den Mellar wears the gold sash of Troop Commander despite his own protests and Capt. Rowan wears the red sash of a Captain, as the rest of his fellows do.

  ***

  At Messton- near-Edge

  Finally I have a little time to rest after the most dreadful day I’ve ever lived through. Our battle at Messton [of all places!] has been indescribable. An endless nightmare of blood & screams & pain & death. Our Wirran troops were outnumbered by perhaps 2 or 3 to 1 & even I could see that the Commandant had us badly positioned before he disappeared back to Den Siddon to oversee the reserve troops. None of the Captains was happy, but they did the best they could & the men fought bravely & well. I think we’ve gained some ground, but the cost has been fearful. Fully ¾ of the men are dead & the remainder are all injured to one degree or another. Some 300 will likely not survive for more than a couple of days in terrible pain, if indeed they survive this night. We healers have done our best, but there was little we could do for many of the injured, save try to ease their agony.

  Capt. del’Quist of D.S came to our tents hoping to find a Captain who’s less injured than himself. He was very battered & bloodied & it took me a few moments to recognise him and to be truthful I wasn’t certain until he spoke, but of course his Siannen accent is unmistakeable. But he was unsuccessful in his search. Poor Capt. Fiore is near death & Capts. Josefson, Tomasson & Bolt are confirmed as dead. The others are not here & are probably dead too. Capt. del’Quist has taken command of our shattered troops & as far as it goes it’s probably the best thing to happen today. He was truly inspirational on the battlefield, rallying the men from other garrisons to him as their own leaders fell & undoubtedly saving many lives. He fought like a demon. But of course he is injured & in shock as everyone is. He still wore his blood drenched chainmail & breastplate, probably can’t get out of it as his right arm is obviously badly injured and supported in a makeshift sling made from his Captain’s red sash. He refused all treatment except for a painkiller & a rag to mop up the blood from his broke
n nose, until he’s seen to his few remaining troops.

  He looked ill & upset, but he spoke quietly to the men here & they were heartened by his obvious concern for them. Then he simply went on his way, as unstoppable as he was on the field.

  He came back later & I treated his wounds: facial injuries & gashes & more serious wounds to his right shoulder, arm & hand. Courtesy of a halberd, he said. The cursed thing has done considerable damage to his shoulder, opened his upper arm to the bone in a wound that runs almost to his elbow & smashed his hand badly & he’s lost a lot of blood. Obviously unimpressed by our blunted instruments he offered me the use of his dagger to amputate his hopelessly mangled little finger. It was an astoundingly beautiful thing in that place of horror, & it was astoundingly sharp. I realised as I looked at him & saw his Champion’s tattoo that it must be of g’Hakken dwarven make. I’d never thought to see such a lovely thing, much less use it. I couldn’t help but wish we’d had something like it when we were amputating arms & legs earlier.

  ***

  I thought that the very badly hurt men & we healers would be left here as the rest of the men retreated, for we can’t move them & Rollo will undoubtedly attack again tomorrow. But no. Capt. Rowan says he won’t abandon us. He doesn’t believe that Rollo would spare any of these poor men who certainly can’t defend themselves & so he & all those who still can will face Rollo’s troops tomorrow & defend us for as long as they can. Brave, brave men. I told him that he should simply leave us and he smiled. “No,” he said. “I won’t leave my men & you healers to be slaughtered by that bloody madman. Besides, he’d easily catch us if we tried to retreat, he’s still got maybe 800 or more able-bodied troops left. No, we’ll all die together. ‘Tisn’t the outcome I’d hoped for, but we’ll do our best. He won’t kill us easily, the bastard.”

 

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