Wrath of the Usurper (The Eoriel Saga Book 2)

by Kal Spriggs

  Jarek nodded, “And I swear to you, I'll do everything in my power to make it right.” He nodded his head at her, but his eyes went back to Aerion, “If you'll have me, I'd like to serve with your company.”

  “Well,” Katarina said, her voice quick, “I think that would be an excellent idea!” Aerion felt his stomach sink though. He managed a nod at Jarek before Katarina continued, “Now, Lord Jack, I understand that your scouts were watching Darkbit's advance. Have you any fears that his forces might try to assault your lands?”

  Lord Jack gave a laugh, “Oh, let them but try! If they did, they'd waste their forces against our defenses and we could go up to pin them and bleed them dry.” He shook his head, “No, Nine Peaks is well secured. Even without my three companies there, they'd have to face our militia levies as well as two companies of my father's troops. Since we know the mountain paths well, they could easily bypass any siege lines and even encircle our foes if they weren't careful. They'll not crack those defenses, not without five battalions!”

  Again, his overpowering gestures and speech seemed to overwhelm everyone else.

  “Well,” Katarina said, “That leaves their probable goals as either pinning us down here or possibly seeking a quick assault, hoping we're unready.”

  “Or diplomacy,” Arren said as he stroked his beard. His calm words were put forward in such a way that Aerion realized it had to be calculated. What does he know that we don't, Aerion wondered, and why does the fact that he's kept it from even those who know his true identity make me uneasy?

  “That's more optimistic than I expected from you,” Katarina said. She cocked her head though, “It was our goal for seizing the Ryftguard, I'll admit, but he hasn't sent a messenger, hasn't offered to parlay...”

  Arren shrugged, “He has Covle Darkbit and Grel here in the south, neither of whom are likely to be listened to, much less trusted.” He pointed at where the map hung on the wall, “But he's a company or more of heavy cavalry that's come down from the north, slower, too, than a force like that should move.”

  Gerlin's eyes narrowed and Aerion saw the halfblood stare at the map for a long moment, “An escort?” He frowned, “Then they'll have either brought someone from the far north or picked up someone at Ember Castle.” Aerion saw the halfblood frown at that, clearly he felt uneasy about whoever this emissary might be.

  “Maybe both,” Cederic said softly. “We know that Lord Hector defeated a large force of Armen as well as traitorous Vendakar mercenaries not long ago. He appointed the hero of that battle as a Commander of Cavalry, or so his announcements have said.”

  That hero might well be the emissary,” Arren nodded.

  “And maybe Covle Darbit wants to stamp out any rebellion before it makes him look more incompetent,” Eleanor cautioned. “It wouldn't be the first time a bastard like him sought to cover up his mistakes by killing everyone involved.”

  Bulmor grunted, “Sounds like him alright.” He gave an odd look at Katarina, though, and Aerion noted how she shrugged in response. Clearly, the two of them knew something else about Covle Darkbit, but Aerion couldn't guess what that might be.

  “So,” Katarina said finally, “We prepare for attack and hope that it's a diplomatic mission, instead.” She gave a look around the room. “We've already drawn up defense plans, based upon estimates of your forces capabilities, Lord Jack. If you don't mind, Bulmor will lay out what we've thought up?”

  “Of course, my Lady,” Lord Jack said. “Do tell me, how are we going to make the Usurper's men die?” His comment drew a round of harsh chuckles from those gathered around the table, even from Aerion as preoccupied as he was with the thought of Jarek and Katarina sharing smiles.

  Not my place, he reminded himself, but he couldn't keep his eye from resting on the young noble... and how closely he sat to Lady Katarina.

  ***

  Aerion pushed the diagram away and looked around at his sergeants. Sergeant Gerhing and Senior Sergeant Jansen looked composed enough, though he could tell they were both disappointed at their role in the defense. Walker, on the other hand, had a scowl on his face. “Look,” Aerion said, “I know we'd all rather be at the front, but the truth is, Lady Katarina needs to see what these new soldiers are like. That means they need to be in a position that lets them prove themselves.”

  “We've done plenty of that already,” Walker said with a sneer.

  “We have,” Aerion said, “Which is why we're the reserve. It's also why First and Second Companies are positioned to secure the vital areas.”

  “Good thing too,” Walker sneered again, “I don't trust that bastard Jack as far as I can throw him.” The malevolent edge to his voice suggested that he'd like to throw him off the top of the wall.

  Aerion glared at his friend, “That's enough of that, sergeant. They're here to help, they've made that clear enough. Don't you dare talk that kind of thing around our men, either, it'll sour things right off.” Walker scowled at the rebuke, but he held his tongue.

  “Right,” Aerion said. “Any questions?”

  No one spoke up, so Aerion nodded, “Very well, I'll see you all in the morning.” He waited as Jasen and Gehring stepped out. Walker sat back in his chair, though, and a moment later, Quinn stuck his head in, “All done, oh my Captain?”

  Aerion scowled at his friend, “Don't you start that again.” Quinn had insisted on calling him Captain for a solid week since his promotion. It wouldn't have been too bad, except between him and Walker, they'd turned it into a game of how inappropriately they could slip it into conversation. He'd completely lost his bearing with them more than once. Thankfully they kept that in private and it hadn't been an issue with discipline.

  “Swordbreaker here is getting too big for his britches, if you ask me,” Walker said. He pulled out a splinter of wood and picked at his teeth, “All worried about hurting the new fellow's feelings and such.”

  Before Aerion could respond, Quinn spoke up. “Did you hear about the brawl they had at chow this morning?” When Aerion and Walker both shook their heads, the stocky young man continued, “I guess some of Second were called forward, but the new fellows, they're arranged as second, third and fourth companies, so some of their people came forward too. They started arguing over who was 'second' and who wasn't and it even came to blows!” Quinn shook his head, “Can you believe that?”

  Aerion nodded, “I can, oddly enough.” There was pride in his company over their name, they were the Third Company, the ones who had stormed the Ryftguard and held out against two hundred of Hectors best men. They were the ones who had opened the East Gate and let in the reinforcements. That pride was something they would fight over, he knew. He frowned then, “I think we need to head that one off, maybe come up with some title or something?”

  Walker scowled at that, “I say that Lord Jack's companies can come up with new names, I like Third.” Aerion wasn't certain where the hostility came from, but he wondered if it was something in Walker's past. He and Quinn shared a look and Quinn nodded, best to head off one of Walker's temper flares. Especially when he's likely to go do something that might ruin Lady Katarina's new alliance, Aerion thought. Though, he could admit, if Walker were hostile to Jarek, he wouldn't complain too much.

  “No, that could be pretty good, actually,” Quinn said. “I mean, take some fearsome name, like one of the old units from the Duke's Army or even like back under the reign of the High Kings! Something fearsome like the Dragonslayers or the Shieldbreakers!”

  Walker snorted at that, “Captain Swordbreaker's Shieldbreakers? Sounds like a mouthful.”

  “No,” Quinn waved a hand, “I mean something like that, not those.” He frowned, “I seem to remember Lady Katarina mentioning that there was a registry of units, so maybe I could look some up...”

  “You're just eager to dig into some books again,” Walker said. “How's your studying coming, anyway? I haven't seen much of you. Well, not since you blew up your last experiment.” He said the last with a chuckle.
>
  Aerion winced at the reminder, though. Fortunately, no one else was present and Quinn had apparently protected himself well enough. Still, the sharp detonation had drawn a large crowd, just in time to see Quinn stumble out of his quarters, covered in dust and soot. Worse, in a way, was the sharp dressing down that Cederic had given the stocky young man. Clearly, whatever he'd been up to, the wizard had not approved.

  “I'm being a little more careful, now,” Quinn said with a wince of his own. “For that matter, Cederic warned me that he wouldn't teach me anything more if I tried to do anything I wasn't ready for.” He frowned, “Which, honestly, seems a bit harsh. I mean, I was plenty careful...” He trailed off as Aerion gave him a level look. “Well, maybe I wasn't exactly careful, but it's not like anyone was hurt.”

  A deep rumble sounded from the doorway and a moment later Nakkiki edged through. The big man had to stoop in the room and Aerion quickly pulled a chair out for him. Nakkiki gave him a broad grin as he sat and then rumbled with satisfaction. The wooden chair creaked alarmingly under his weight, but it held.

  Quinn, on the other hand, had flushed at whatever Nakkiki said on his entry. “Okay, well, someone could have been hurt, but no one was.” He sighed, “Which I'm glad about, really, I just wish everyone wasn't on me so much about it.”

  “You blew out a wall,” Aerion said. “There's bound to be a little consternation over that. You're dealing with powerful forces.” It still frightened him a bit that Quinn had already managed that level of power.

  “You,” Walker said, “blew open a reinforced door, as I remember, and all I heard were praises, even though some of us were hard of hearing for weeks.”

  Aerion shrugged and glanced at his shield. The elaborate carvings, both decorative and runic, seemed beautiful, but they seemed a bit ominous at that. “I meant to do that. Sort of.”

  Quinn looked at the shield too, “You know, you've told us a bit about the Wold, but I haven't had a chance to get the whole story. Are their women as beautiful as they say in the legends? My mother told me once that they can steal a man's heart with just a look... lead them away into the forest and...”

  Aerion coughed at that, “I think we get the idea.” He shook his head, “Like I told you before, they're just people. Good people, mostly.” He flushed a bit as he thought of Princess Tirianis, though.

  “Ah...” Walker grinned evilly, “It seems that maybe one of their women stole something away from our friend. I knew you were holding out on us. Did one of their beauties steal away your virginity while you weren't looking?” Walker laughed.

  Aerion flushed still deeper and couldn't find an answer.

  Nakkiki rumbled something in his own tongue and Quinn nodded, “Yeah, big guy, I thought he was smitten over Lady Katarina, as well. I guess Aerion's a bit broader in his appetites than we thought.” The tone of his voice was chiding, as if he didn't approve.

  “I am not...” Aerion flushed still darker.

  Nakkiki rumbled something and Quinn burst out into laughter. As Walker cocked an eyebrow, he rubbed tears out of his eyes and translated, “He says that in his experience, the daughters of chieftains, like Lady Katarina, do not take kindly to being second wives.”

  Aerion scowled at his friends, “I've never said anything about making Lady Katarina my wife, second or otherwise.”

  “Good thing too,” Walker said with a smirk. “Especially how she's hanging on every word of Jarek. Can't put your faith in women, they're fickle as the wind.” There was a bitterness to his voice, one which suggested he had a painful, personal experience.

  “Can we just change the subject?” Aerion snapped.

  “Sorry,” Walker said and raised his hands. “That last part was out of line. I know he's got to be driving you crazy, especially with how handsome and well spoken he is...” he trailed off, “I guess that doesn't help, either, right? Uh,” he looked around for some sudden change in topic. “Nakkiki, set fire to anything of Quinn's lately?”

  The big man stared down at Walker with a frown. The way his face bunched up, it almost looked like a thundercloud towering over the shorter man. Or perhaps, Aerion thought, an angry volcano looming over a tiny village.

  “Methinks you've a way with words tonight,” Quinn said with a smile. Aerion snorted with laughter at that and Walker held up his hands in mock surrender.

  “Well,” Aerion said, “Apparently the order for uniforms has come in, so we can expect proper uniforms for everyone. Lady Katarina's also got one for banners...”

  “Phaw,” Walker waved a hand, “Business?”

  Aerion shrugged, “That's most of what I've time to think about, to be honest. Supplying, managing, and leading a hundred people isn't what you might consider easy. Especially when I've a hot-head for one of my section leaders.”

  Walker snorted at that, “Well, you know, I just like keep things lively.”

  Aerion shook his head at that. Still, while Walker did get himself in trouble, he also seemed to know what he was doing as a section leader. Aerion glanced at Quinn, “So what were you doing when you blew up your quarters?”

  Quinn flushed, “Well, actually...” He glanced at Nakkiki, “I was trying to see if I could get Nakkiki to throw fire at me so I could block it.” As he said that, the big islander shook his head, his normally cheerful face disapproving.

  “Really?” Aerion asked, “How did that go?” They had yet to get any real explanation of how Nakkiki did what he did. So far, the big man had emerged from several vicious fights with little more than a few light scratches. He also seemed to be able to conjure fire at will, though it seemed to be limited more to minor tricks than anything actually dangerous.

  Quinn scowled, “It went terribly. Nakkiki did just what I asked him to do. But the runes I made to deflect it were set a little wrong, instead of deflecting the strike they actually drew on the power I'd stored up and amplified it.” He shrugged, “To be honest, even if Cederic hadn't told me to avoid such experiments, I couldn't do anything of note again for weeks, maybe months. It pulled out all the power I saved up.”

  Walker grinned at that, “Well, I feel for you, really I do... but once you figure that out, remind me not to volunteer myself for any of your experiments. I'd hate to end up splattered across a wall because you wanted me to punch you, right Nakkiki?”

  Nakkiki stared down at the little man for a long moment and then gave a bellow of laughter and slapped Walker across the back hard enough to spill him from his chair. As he did so, however, the chair under Nakkiki gave a squeal and then collapsed under his laughing weight.

  Nakkiki's laughter cut off suddenly as he landed on his backside and then rolled onto his back, his eyes wide in surprise. Quinn and Walker both burst into laughter, joined a moment later by Nakkiki.

  Aerion just sighed and looked at Walker, “You owe me a chair.”

  For whatever reason, his friends seemed to find that uproariously funny.

  ***

  Lady Katarina Emberhill

  Katarina waited silently as the four emissaries stepped forward. Three of them wore armor, with Hector's colors of yellow and black. She recognized Covle Darkbit at a distance and she assumed the bestial looking man next to him was Grel. She didn't recognize the red haired woman next to Darkbit though. She wore plated armor and while she had the yellow and black colors of Hector, she also had a red flame on a black shield at the center of her surcoat. Perhaps this is the new commander of Hector's, Katarina thought, interesting that she's a woman. The last woman wore an elaborate dress and she looked like a noblewoman, though Katarina, having been in Marovingia for most of her development years, didn't recognize her.

  She glanced at Bulmor. Her armsman had his eyes locked on Covle Darkbit, his face an iron mask. She could sense his hatred, not much less than hers, she could admit. Darkbit was a disgrace, a former armsman who'd been exiled for attempting to blackmail her father. Cycles later, he'd violated that exile when Hector paid him to betray Duke Peter and lead assassins into E
mber Castle.

  She glanced over at Arren who made up the third member of her party. He seemed relaxed enough, but his old eyes were focused on the warrior woman who walked with them. She wondered at that, if he knew her somehow. She would have to ask him about her later. Cederic, the last member of her group, stood quietly at his ease.

  She took a deep breath, “Right, then, let's go.”

  She led the way out, confident that Eleanor watched over her. She had little doubt that the woman could take down any of the oncoming party if they proved to be a threat.

  She halted, still in the shadow of the East Gate and waited for them to close the distance. “I am Lady Katarina Emberhill, rightful heir of Duke Peter. You come under a flag of truce, but you wear the Usurper's colors and two of you are murderous swine. Why is it that you've come?” She had chosen those words to be deliberately aggressive and as she saw Covle Darkbit flush with anger, she knew she'd picked them well.

  To her surprise, it was the armed woman who spoke, “I am Commander Kerrel Flamehair. Duke Hector has commissioned me as his Ducal Investigator and sent me here to the south to try to resolve this conflict peacefully.” She gestured at Covle Darkbit, “Commander Darkbit is here as the Commander of the South, Grel is present as the Duke's Hound, and Miss Kail is here to speak for Duke Hector's personal interests.”

  “I am also here as a show of good faith,” the woman in the dress said. “I am Duke Hector's mother and my presence here shows that we will honor any agreements we come to.” Katarina cocked her head and stared at the woman. She vaguely remembered her, now. Halyna Kail had lived separate from the noblewomen and servants at Ember Castle, in a suite away from most of the others. Katarina had remembered being a bit in awe of the woman, for though it was obvious that most of the noblewomen at the castle despised her, they seemed too afraid to treat her with disrespect.

  She had a smooth complexion and perfectly coifed curly brown hair, Katarina saw. In many ways, she looked every inch the noblewoman. “Very well,” Katarina said with a nod. “We are prepared to allow you and a small escort into the Ryftguard, so long as you swear to abide by a truce.”