Hagen gave a grim shake of his head. “Not for long. When those three mammoths reach the walls, it’s over.”
Molly followed his gaze, and spotted the three mammoths at the rear of the Tervingi formation. The mammoths wore massive, dangling coats of mail, plate armor bound to their heads with leather straps. Archers waited on platforms atop the beasts’ back, some of them holding coiled rope ladders. When the mammoths reached the town’s wall, the archers would throw down the ladders, the Tervingi thains would scramble up, and Cravenlock Town would fall.
“We have to stop them,” said Molly.
“We can’t,” said Hagen. “The town is on its own.”
Molly looked at him. “Surely you don’t mean to sit here and watch the town fall?”
“The Tervingi have twice as many men as we do,” said Hagen. “Maybe three times as many. If we ride out and are defeated, we shall lose both town and castle. And even if we had more men, we have no way of dealing with those mammoths.”
“I will deal with the mammoths,” said Molly.
“Even if you defeat the mammoths, they still have too many men,” said Hagen.
“All your men are mounted,” said Molly. “You could ride right through them.”
“But if the Tervingi withstand the charge, we will be surrounded,” said Hagen. “We must stay behind the walls, prepare for a siege, and wait for Lord Mazael to return.”
“And then we shall lose the town,” said Molly.
“Better the town than both the town and the castle,” retorted Hagen.
Molly cursed. Staying here would be a disaster. Mazael needed every man to throw back Ragnachar’s attack. If the lords scattered to their castles, Ragnachar could pick them off one by one. Better to face Ragnachar with their full strength.
She had to make Hagen see that. But how?
“I could command you to march out,” said Molly.
Hagen snorted. “No, my lady, you can’t. My oath is to Lord Mazael, not to his daughter. Someday when Lord Mazael is dead and you are the Lady of Castle Cravenlock, then you can command me. Not before.”
Well, it had been worth a try.
For a moment her Demonsouled blood raged against him, but she forced it to silence. She would not kill one of her father’s sworn men.
“What about this?” said Molly, deciding to change tactics. “Would you rather follow the will of Lord Toraine and kill all the Tervingi, or do as Lord Mazael wishes and try to live in peace with them?”
“I shall follow Lord Mazael’s will, of course,” said Hagen. “Though the Tervingi do not wish to live in peace with us.”
“I think most of them do,” said Molly. “They’re only attacking because they think Lord Richard murdered Athanaric. If we can convince them otherwise, if we can prove that Ragnachar murdered Athanaric, they’ll turn against him and join us.”
Hagen frowned. “That wounded Tervingi wizard you found, the one that says he saw Ragnachar kill Athanaric?”
“Aye,” said Molly.
Timothy jogged onto the ramparts, breathing hard.
“From what I understand,” said Hagen, “the Tervingi hold wizards in little regard. Why will they listen to him?”
“Because, sir knight,” said Molly, “he’s not just a wizard. He’s the apprentice of their Guardian. I suppose he is the Guardian now, since Ragnachar murdered Aegidia with Athanaric. The Tervingi fear wizards, but respect the Guardian. Even Ragnachar would not cross her openly.”
“Until he killed her,” snorted Hagen.
“Lady Molly is correct, Sir Hagen,” said Timothy. “The Tervingi will listen to Riothamus.”
“Perhaps,” said Hagen, “but it is too late for words. Far too late. Blood has been spilled, and the Tervingi will not heed words now.”
“Unless we defeat them,” said Molly. “I think Ragnachar’s men are commanding that war party, but if we defeat them, the rest of the thains will listen. We just have to bloody their noses a bit.”
Hagen stared at her for a long moment.
“Damn me for a fool,” he said with a sigh. “You might be right, my lady, or you might get us all killed. Well, no one lives forever. Men!” His voice rose to a roar. “Form up! We ride to war!”
The clatter of activity from the courtyard redoubled.
“Timothy,” said Molly. “Keep an eye on Riothamus. We will need him soon.”
Timothy hesitated. “It would be best if he continued to rest.”
Something inside Molly flinched at those words. For a moment she wanted to force Sir Hagen to call off the attack. Then she could stay with Riothamus behind Castle Cravenlock’s walls.
She pushed aside the notion with disgust.
“Those are his people I’m about to kill,” said Molly. “Get him up as soon as you can manage it.”
Timothy nodded and hurried back to the keep. Molly ran to the stables, and the pages hurried forward with a horse. She swung up into the saddle and rode to the barbican, where Sir Hagen sat atop his horse before three hundred knights and armsmen.
“This is madness, Hagen!” said one of the knights. “The Tervingi have twice our numbers, along with those damnable beasts! If we ride against them we will be slaughtered!”
Hagen opened his mouth to answer, and Molly seized her chance.
“You will not lose,” she shouted, “because I will fight for you!”
Silence answered her.
“You, little girl?” said one armsman at last, a gaunt man with a trimmed beard. “What can you do against the barbarians?”
Molly grinned.
She jumped from her horse and fell into the shadows, drawing her sword and dagger. She reappeared next to the bearded armsman, and her sword flashed up, resting at his throat. The armsman reared back in alarm, his horse stamping, but Molly hooked one boot into his stirrup and hauled herself up, keeping her sword at his throat. Alarm flashed over the armsman’s face, and the surrounding men reached for their weapons.
Molly whirled back into the shadows and reappeared before her horse.
“What can I do against the barbarians?” Molly said. “You have heard the whispers about me! The rumors say that I am a foul sorceress, a mistress of dark magic. That I was an assassin of the Skulls, and wielded poisoned blades form the shadows. That I lured my victims to my bed, and sucked away their lives with a kiss. That I have faced Malrags and serpent priests in battle, and slew them all!”
The men stared at her. Hagen gazed at her with a mixture of fascination and horror.
“It’s all true,” said Molly, waving her sword at the men. “Every last word of it, every story about me. It’s all true.”
She grinned at them.
“And if you follow a monster like me into battle,” said Molly, “think what I will do to the enemy!”
No one cheered. But no one ran away, either.
Molly jumped back into the saddle, sword in one hand, reins in the other.
“Your family, my lady,” said Hagen, “has a penchant for dramatics.”
Molly snorted. “I didn’t get it from my mother.”
The portcullis rattled open, and the men galloped out, Molly and Sir Hagen at their head.
###
Battle raged before the walls of Cravenlock Town.
Over eight hundred Tervingi thains assailed the walls, but Molly kept her face calm. Mazael had said that a lord never showed fear or doubt before his men, and Molly saw the wisdom in that.
Especially now.
“I hope,” muttered Hagen, “that you know what you’re doing.”
“So do I,” said Molly.
The horsemen reined up a third of a mile from the town, and the Tervingi whirled to face them, shields raised to fend off the constant rain of arrows and bolts from the town’s walls. In a matter of moments, they would charge the horsemen.
Assuming any of the horsemen survived the three mammoths.
The great beasts lumbered towards the horsemen, bellowing as the archers drew their bows.
“So do I,” said Molly, and kicked her horse to a run.
She galloped toward the mammoths. Molly saw the archers turn towards her, saw them lift their bows.
She stood up in her stirrups, drew her sword and dagger, and jumped into the shadows.
Molly reappeared on the platform atop the nearest mammoth, the rough planks trembling beneath her boots. The archers whirled to face her, while some of the men yanked their swords free.
“It is her!” shouted one of the thains. “The lady of the shadows! Kill her!”
Molly jumped and landed on the mammoth’s neck, arrows hissing past her. The driver groped for his weapon, but Molly was faster. A quick slash from her sword, and the driver fell limp from his leather saddle. She darted forward, seized the reins, and jumped off the mammoth’s neck. The beast roared in pain as Molly jerked against the end of the reins, her boots dangling a dozen feet off the ground. Yet the beast followed the direction of the reins and turned in a sharp circle, moving away from the waiting horsemen.
And right into the mass of Tervingi thains.
Screams rose up from the Tervingi as the mammoth trampled its way through them. An arrow slammed into Molly’s left thigh, and another into her hip. She snarled in pain, but gripped the reins. Her Demonsouled blood would heal the wounds soon enough.
The mammoth trampled through the Tervingi, and Molly released the reins and fell into the shadows.
She reappeared atop the second mammoth’s neck, ignoring the pain in her leg, and killed the driver. Then onto the third mammoth, and after she slew its driver, she jumped through the shadows and appeared on the town’s ramparts, much to the surprise of the surrounding militiamen. She yanked the arrows from her leg, gritting her teeth at the pain.
“Lady Molly,” said a nearby militiaman, “I…”
“Shut up and shoot,” said Molly.
The man obliged.
A horn blast rang out, and Sir Hagen’s armsmen and knights surged forward with a roar, charging the disorganized mass of the Tervingi.
The battle did not last very long after that.
###
“An easy victory,” said Sir Hagen.
Molly snorted. “You call that easy?”
“I do,” said Hagen. “Luck favored us. It might not when we face Ragnachar.”
He had a point.
A hundred Tervingi had been slain and another hundred wounded before the rest surrendered and threw down their arms. Now Hagen’s men stood guard over the prisoners outside the town’s walls, keeping a watchful eye over them. Tension hung thick in the air. The armsmen expected the Tervingi to go wild at any moment, and the Tervingi expected the armsmen to slaughter them all. No doubt Ragnachar had told them so.
“There they are,” said Hagen.
Molly turned, and saw Riothamus hobbling towards them, leaning on his staff, Timothy at his side.
She hurried to meet them.
“You’re awake,” she said.
“Aye,” said Riothamus with a forced smile. “I’ve never felt better.”
“You should rest,” said Timothy.
“No,” said Riothamus. He took a deep breath and winced. “Not while the Tervingi nation rips itself apart.”
He walked towards the prisoners, Molly, Timothy, and Hagen trailing after him, and a silence fell over the disarmed Tervingi thains.
“What is this, witcher?” shouted one of the Tervingi. “Have you betrayed us to our foes?”
“I have not,” said Riothamus. “But you have been betrayed.”
“By Richard Mandragon!” shouted another man. “He slew Athanaric!”
“He did not!” said Riothamus, his voice rising to a roar. He must have used a spell to amplify his voice. “What is this I bear in my hand?”
“The staff of the Guardian, slain by Richard,” said a thain.
“No!” said Riothamus. “How do you think I came to bear the staff? I was at Stone Tower.”
The protesting voices fell silent.
“I saw what happened there,” said Riothamus. “Ragnachar and his orcragars stormed the village. He stabbed the Guardian in the back, without honor or courage. He betrayed his oath to Lord Richard and murdered him. And he killed Athanaric, his brother hrould, and left him to lie in his own blood.”
“That cannot be!” said a swordthain. “Ragnachar is a hard man, aye, but even he would not murder another hrould.”
“Would he?” said Riothamus. “Ragnachar worshipped the Urdmoloch, and the Urdmoloch teaches that the strong will rule and the weak shall perish. You all have heard Ragnachar speak. Has he not said that it would be better for the Tervingi to die than to live as vassals of the Mandragons?”
“That doesn’t mean he foully slew Athanaric,” said the swordthain, but there was doubt in his voice.
“You know me,” said Riothamus. “You know who I am.” He held the staff leveled before him. “What I am. I am Riothamus son of Rigotharic, the apprentice of the Guardian. And the Guardian has never spoken a lie to the Tervingi people, nor have I. And I swear to you, upon the Guardian’s staff, that Ragnachar murdered Athanaric, and cast the blame upon Lord Richard to incite war. I saw this with my own eyes.”
An angry murmur went through the captives, but their anger was not directed at Riothamus.
Molly’s gamble had paid off.
“What shall we do?” said the swordthain.
“The only thing we can do,” said Riothamus. “Ragnachar murdered both Lord Richard and Athanaric. He betrayed and slew a fellow Tervingi hrould, and he has blackened the honor of the Tervingi by murdering our liege lord. We must march against Ragnachar, and bring him to account for his heinous crimes.”
The Tervingi roared in answer.
###
“You must be mad,” said Hagen.
"Undoubtedly," said Molly. "But these Tervingi want Ragnachar dead. Why not help them? Besides, Lord Mazael will need every man we can bring him.”
North of the town, both the Tervingi thains and the knights and armsmen assembled for war. The spearthains and swordthains gathered their supplies and stood ready to march. The armsmen loaded wagons of supplies, while squires hurried forward with remounts for the knights. Even the mammoths had been retrieved, laden with archers and supplies for the Tervingi.
Both groups gave each other suspicious looks, but no violence had broken out.
Yet.
“I suggest we make for Swordgrim,” said Molly. “If Lord Mazael isn’t there, we can at least get word of him.”
Hagen grunted, a sour expression on his face, but did not argue.
He rode off to shout orders to the men.
“I don’t think he likes me,” said Molly to Riothamus, who leaned on the Guardian’s staff.
Riothamus smiled. “You shock him. Sir Hagen is a steady man, but he is used to letting other men do his thinking for him. He would have sat here and waited for your father to return and tell him what to do.”
“Or his men and the Tervingi would have wound up killing each other,” said Molly. “Instead, we have a thousand men to bring to my father.” She watched the men arrange themselves in line. “Do you think others will join us?”
“Undoubtedly,” said Riothamus. “They may not listen to us, not at first. But I am known to the Tervingi nation, and they will listen once I speak.”
Molly snorted. “You’re the Guardian. They should listen to you.”
Riothamus shook his head. “Not yet.”
She saw his hand tighten around the staff.
###
The marched north that afternoon.
It was a six-day journey to across the broad plains of the Grim Marches, and Molly wanted to reach Swordgrim as soon as possible. Riothamus thought that wise. Ragnachar would go on a rampage, and with Athanaric dead, many of the Tervingi would join him. And with Lord Richard dead, Toraine would answer in kind.
The sooner they reached Swordgrim,
the better.
Riothamus rode at Molly's side, the staff balanced over his saddle. He felt the magic waiting in the ancient wood, but it did not come at his call.
It was not his staff.
Not yet.
Aegidia had taught him the spell. A Guardian had to know himself, to conquer his weaknesses and temptations, before the staff’s power would yield to him. Riothamus would have to face himself. If he succeeded, he would be the new Guardian of the Tervingi.
If he failed, he would die.
Fear and doubt warred in him.
Soon. He would do it soon. Once more Tervingi had gathered under Molly’s command. Then he would face the staff and become the new Guardian.
Or the staff would kill him.
He gazed at the staff as they rode north.
Chapter 29 – The Horde
“Six hundred strong, my lord,” said the scout, a rangy young militiaman in studded leather armor. “On the far side of that hill, outside the village. No mammoths, thank the gods. And at least fifty of those devils in black.”
Mazael nodded. “Orcragars.”
“Aye, my lord.”
“You’ve done well,” said Mazael. “Rejoin the others, and prepare for battle.”
The militiaman bowed from the saddle and rode away.
“Toraine is trying,” said Romaria from her horse, “to get you killed.”
“I know,” said Mazael, voice quiet.
Toraine’s host had left Swordgrim and marched southeast, making for Gray Pillar. Once Ragnachar had slain Lord Richard and renewed the war, Toraine reasoned, the Tervingi hrould had withdrawn east to gather the Tervingi. Toraine wanted to move quickly and smash the Tervingi warbands one by one before Ragnachar could gather them. But to do that, they had to first find the Tervingi warbands.
So Toraine had sent Mazael to scout.
With only his own sworn men, and no one else.Mazael had sent riders south, summoning his men to war, but it would take them days to arrive. Until then, he had only the three hundred knights and armsmen who had accompanied him to Swordgrim.
“Those Tervingi haven’t seen us yet,” said Romaria. “We could still slip away.”
Soul of Sorcery (Book 5) Page 34
