“Halt!” ordered one of the soldiers keeping watch. “State your business here.”
“I’m looking for someone. A young woman named Brianna. She’s missing. I need to speak to your commanding officer.”
“You’ll need to come back in the morning,” said the soldier.
“No, I have a letter from King Felix, and I want to see the commander in charge now.”
“Sir, no one is allowed into the camp at night. Go back or I’ll have you in irons.”
“I’m not looking for trouble, but I will see the commander. Escort me to him or you’ll have to answer for sleeping on your watch.”
“Go to hell,” the man said, drawing his sword.
Zollin thrust his tall torch into the ground so that it cast a circle of light but left his hands free, then he pulled his staff out of its sheath. He had taken to carrying it in a sheath made for a knight’s lance so that it was out of the way but easy to retrieve. He could fight without it, but having the staff made him feel more comfortable, even if its power was now completely overshadowed by his own. He pointed it at the man and a small bolt of blue energy shot out and knocked him flat on his back.
“I warned you,” Zollin said, shaking his head.
He left the torch and rode on toward the camp, which was mostly dark. He could see the shadow of the officers’ tents on the hilltop. He rode forward, avoiding the few fires that still burned. It was well after midnight and Zollin guessed there were only a few hours left until dawn. He rode up the hill and was met by another sentry outside the big tent that he guessed was the commanding officer’s quarters. He didn’t remember the name of the man who had been in charge when he had sought the army’s help before, but he was in no mood to be put off.
“I need to see the commander,” he said.
“Are you kidding me?” the sentry asked. “Why the hell should I wake him up to see you?”
“A girl is missing,” Zollin said. “I need information from your commander about her possible whereabouts. Please,” he added, hoping civility might win the day.
“Commander Billips will be up in a few hours. Until then, you’ll need to wait.”
“I can’t do that,” Zollin said. “Really, I don’t want to cause trouble. Please, wake him.”
“Sir, get off your horse and find a place to rest for a few hours. I won’t tell you again.”
Zollin hopped off his horse and approached the guard. He hadn’t forgotten his treatment at the hands of the army and had his defenses raised.
“Perhaps you can help me,” Zollin said, trying once again for diplomacy. “I’m looking for a girl. She’s tall, thin, and has black hair. She was riding alone, east of Brighton’s Gate.”
“Uses a fancy recurve bow?” the soldier asked.
Zollin felt his heart turn icy. His eyes narrowed and the magic inside him churned angrily. He was tired and holding the magic in check as it threatened to engulf him was difficult. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“Yes. Have you seen her?”
“She’s being held for assaulting the King’s soldiers. She shot one man, nearly killed him. She’ll be tried tomorrow, I suspect.”
“Where is she? I want to see her.”
“That won’t be possible until sunrise.”
Zollin was relieved to have located Brianna, but he was also angry that she was being held against her will. He had no idea why she would have attacked the King’s soldiers, but he knew there would be a good reason. Still, she was probably sleeping and he needed rest. He wouldn’t accomplish anything until morning, so he decided to find a place to rest until dawn.
“Alright, can you show me where she’s being held? I’ll bed down nearby for the night and then I’ll see her in the morning.”
“You can bed down with the civilians over there,” the sentry pointed to a dark area on the edge of the camp. It was hard to see much in the darkness, but there appeared to be a jumble of tents that were a striking contrast to the neat, orderly rows of the army tents.
Zollin was tempted to argue but decided it wasn’t worth the effort. He led his horse over to the area and found a place that looked suitable to his purpose. He unsaddled his horse and gave it a quick rubdown. Then he tied the end of the horse’s rein to the saddle horn, wrapped his cloak around him, and lay down, using the saddle as a makeshift pillow. It wasn’t comfortable, but Zollin was so tired he fell asleep anyway.
He slept almost four hours, but it felt to Zollin as if he had just closed his eyes a second earlier when he felt a boot toeing him in the ribs.
“Wake up!” said a gruff voice.
The sun was up, and Zollin squinted and rubbed his eyes.
“He’s coming around,” the voice said. “On your feet, boy!”
“What is going on?” Zollin asked.
His eyes adjusted to the light and he could see that he was surrounded by soldiers, all with their weapons drawn. They were mostly foot soldiers with short swords and round shields that reminded Zollin of Quinn’s preferred weapons. He reached for his staff, but it was missing, as were his horse and saddlebags.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Zollin said as he stood up.
“You’re under arrest,” the man with the gruff voice said. “Come with us peacefully or we’ll take you any way we can.”
“I need to see your commander, Billips,” Zollin said, trying desperately to keep the anger he was feeling out of his voice. “I’m on a mission for the King. I have a letter that I need to show the commander.”
“He’ll deal with all that when he sees fit. You just come along with us now.”
Zollin sighed and allowed two of the soldiers to tie his wrists behind his back. They took hold of his arms and led him back up the hill to the large tent where Billips was waiting. Zollin thought the commanding officer looked smugger than when they had met last. Mansel had insisted that Billips was a good man, but the Skellmarian attack, and of course the dragon’s raid, had decimated the legion’s numbers and many of the officers were killed. Command fell to Billips and he had appeared overwhelmed at the time. Now, however, he looked rested and more sure of himself.
“So, we meet again,” Billips said. He was sitting in a camp chair, eating his breakfast.
“I’m here on the orders of King Felix.”
“I’m sure you are. You wizards have a way of getting on the good side of rulers. As I recall, Branock enjoyed the favors of Prince Simmeron.”
“They were poisoning the King,” Zollin said calmly. “I have a letter outlining my mission and authorizing the army to give me aid in any way possible.”
“And you have this letter on you?” Billips asked.
“It’s in my saddlebags,” Zollin said.
“Oh, you mean this letter?” Billips pulled the roll of parchment from a pocket inside his shirt. “I see nothing in this letter about a pardon.”
“I don’t need a pardon, I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Oh, so your attack on my sentry last night wasn’t wrong?”
“I needed information and I was trying to speak to you. Your guard refused to let me into the camp.”
“That’s right, his orders were to keep people like you out of our camp. Attacking him is a crime. As is escaping custody, setting fire to our camp, and stealing horses. You and your companions did all of those things only a couple of months ago. I don’t see anything about that in this letter.”
“Commander, please don’t misunderstand my intentions. I’m here to hunt the dragon, as you can see from that letter. I don’t need your help, but I do require that you release me and Brianna so we can do what we came to do.”
“Ah, that would be another sticky point. Your friend, lovely girl that she is, shot one of my men. She’ll have to stand trial for that, as you will for your crimes.”
“Do you really want to answer to your King for detaining us? Look at the signature, man. Look at the seal. Don’t be a fool.”
“I’m no fool,” Billips said angri
ly. Then to his men, “Get him out of my sight.”
“You’re making a mistake,” Zollin shouted as two of the soldiers dragged him back down the hill.
The large tent’s flaps were tied open and Zollin saw Brianna’s bow and quiver, along with his staff, inside the tent. He felt his magic crackling up and down his body, but he held it in check. He didn’t want to hurt any more men than he had to, and he was hoping that they might lock him up with Brianna.
The soldiers led him back out past the camp, where it was obvious that they planned to chain him to a large post. Brianna was nowhere in sight. He felt fury pumping up the heat of his magical power like billows heating a forge. He decided he had played along with the soldiers’ attempts to detain him long enough. He focused on the rope that his hands were tied with and the small length of hemp was burned to ashes in a moment. Then, with a thought, one of the soldiers escorting Zollin was lifted off the ground and thrown fifteen feet before he crashed in a heap on the ground. The other soldier was just drawing his sword, but Zollin cast a spell that heated the handle as if it were resting in a fire and suddenly the soldier dropped his weapons, cursing and shaking his burned hand. Zollin grabbed the soldier and pinned him onto the post they had been planning to chain him to.
“Where is Brianna?”
“Over there,” the soldier pointed with his good hand. “She’s in a tent over there.”
Zollin shoved the man, who went sprawling on the ground. His power was flaming up inside him now. He could feel the soldiers running around him as he stalked toward the area the man had indicated Brianna was being held in. Blue white energy was snapping and crackling up and down his body now. He wasn’t holding it in check any longer.
A group of men came running at him with their swords drawn. He waved his hand and let an invisible wall of energy hit the men. They fell back, most with broken bones. Zollin felt the bones break, and a small part of his conscience sounded an alarm in his brain, but he was too angry to care. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to inflict pain. He saw a tent, identical to the others, but surrounded by men with weapons at the ready. He guessed correctly that Brianna was being held inside. He levitated the men, there were six in all, tossing them high in the air, where they hung suspended and screaming. The whole camp was rushing to get their weapons now. A few of the more capable officers were organizing the men. Zollin didn’t care. He waved a hand and the canvas tent split open. Brianna was inside, her hands and feet bound together. She was laying on a blanket, her raven black hair tangled and her eyes wide.
“Zollin?” she said.
“I’m here,” he said calmly, but the magic made his voice deep and resonant.
He sent a wave of magic toward her bonds, which burst apart.
“Come on,” he said. “It’s time to leave.”
She scrambled to her feet and ran to him as the soldiers who had been guarding her fell. Part of her wanted to jump into his arms, to hold him and never let go. But the look in his eyes, the fury she saw there, the energy popping and hissing all over his body, and the sound of his voice gave her pause.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“I’m fine,” he said. “But they aren’t.”
She looked over his shoulder and saw the troops. They were in formation now, officers on horses and every soldier armed. There were around two hundred men and at least a dozen mounted knights.
Zollin turned toward them; the desire to smash them all like a child playing with tin soldiers was so strong it took all of his strength not to give in to the temptation.
“Don’t hurt anyone you don’t have to,” Brianna urged him, aware that his fury might lead him to do more harm than necessary. “They’re just doing their duty, mostly.”
“Billips!” Zollin shouted. “Don’t throw away the lives of your men. Give us our belongings and let us leave.”
“I think not,” said Billips, he had his visor raised and he was sitting on a large black horse that was pawing the ground.
“Then come and get me,” Zollin said.
The knights moved first, they had long lances and came charging forward on massive steeds. They lowered their weapons so that the long, metal blades would skewer Zollin through the chest. It was a fierce sight, and Brianna couldn’t help but move backward. It took all her courage not to break and run.
Zollin smiled, then sent a blast of energy and flame sizzling toward the knights. The horses reacted first, digging their heals into the dirt and skidding to a stop. The knights were vaulted over their horses’ heads. They slammed into the ground, their armor crunching along with bones as they fell. The flame had not reached the riders and Zollin saw no need to hurt the injured knights, but three weren’t hurt. They got slowly to their feet and drew their swords. Zollin clapped his hands and sent the men slamming into one another. Their armor clanged and then the men fell to the ground, unconscious.
Zollin looked back at Billips as if to say, your move.
“Attack!” cried Billips.
The troops moved forward, but Brianna’s plea not to hurt the soldiers was still echoing in his mind. He could have blasted them all, but instead he levitated Billips and brought the man soaring through the air toward him. He could have torn the man into pieces or smashed him into a tree, but instead Zollin sat him gently on the ground. Then, in a voice that every one of the soldiers could hear, challenged the commander.
“Don’t hide behind your troops, Billips. If you want to fight me, here is your chance.”
Zollin could see the fear in Billips’ eyes, but there was pride, too. He drew his sword and lowered his visor, then moved slowly forward.
“I’ll give you one last chance,” Zollin said. “Give us our belongings and our horses. We’ll leave and no one else has to get hurt.”
“You’ll not give me orders. I’m an officer in the King’s Army. Surrender and I’ll see that you get a fair trial. I’ll even send your body back to whatever hole you crawled out of, once we’ve hanged you properly, of course.”
Billips sounded brave, but Zollin could hear the fear in the man’s voice. He knew he needed to make an example of the man. The troops in the Great Valley needed to see that they could not harm him, but also that he could have mercy. His magic was raging and wanted to destroy everything in sight, but he knew that raw power wasn’t the best option at the moment.
Zollin reached out his hand, and one of the knight’s swords went sailing toward him. He caught the weapon in the air. It was heavy, but Zollin swung it a few times experimentally, using his magic to boost his own physical strength.
“Alright, come and get me,” Zollin challenged.
Billips didn’t wait, he charged forward, his sword held high to one side. His attack was obvious, Zollin thought. He waited patiently until the last minute and then ducked under the slash. Billips had moved past him, out of reach. He could hear the commander breathing hard in his armor, but he came at Zollin again, this time with a more controlled attack. He swung his weapon toward Zollin’s knee, but Zollin deflected the blow, taking a step backward from the strength of the strike. Billips swung again, this time at Zollin’s throat, but he wasn’t close enough and Zollin merely swayed back to avoid the slash. Then Zollin stepped forward, thrusting his sword toward Billips, who tried to deflect the blow but was too slow. The point of Zollin’s sword hit the commander in the shoulder, denting the armor there.
Zollin heard a groan from the soldiers who were watching. Billips staggered back but then charged forward again, this time thrusting his sword at Zollin’s abdomen. Zollin spun away from the charge and Billips moved past him, spinning and using his own momentum to slash at Zollin. This time it was Zollin who moved too slowly. His sword caught his opponent’s blade, but the force of the blow pushed his sword back and Billips’ blade cut into Zollin’s shoulder.
Zollin grunted in pain, but shoved the sword back and followed with a front kick that slammed into Billips’ chest and sent the commander staggering back.
&nbs
p; “Yield,” Billips shouted.
“Never,” Zollin countered.
“Then die, boy!”
Billips came rushing forward again, but this time Zollin met his charge, stepping forward so that he was too close to Billips for the bigger man to use his sword effectively. Zollin held his sword with one hand and with the other he hit the edge of Billips’ helmet with the flat of his palm. Billips’ head snapped back, and Zollin drove his sword into the ground, then used it to keep his balance as he kicked the commander’s legs out from under him. Billips hit the ground with a crunch. Zollin didn’t hesitate, but jerked his sword out of the ground and swung the weapon in a two-handed blow that caught Billips’ on his sword hand. The commander was wearing a metal gauntlet, but the sword bent the metal, which cut into the flesh, and the force of the blow broke four of the commander’s fingers.
Five Kingdoms: Books 01, 02 & 03 Page 108
