Resurgence

by Alex Janaway

  An eagle passed him by, heading south. The Rider raised a hand in greeting, and Owen returned the gesture. His dismissed his worries of sorcery. They had planned for it. Arno then took him over the crest and down the far side. Similarly wooded but steeper and rockier, there was nowhere to land easily, so instead he and his Riders bivouacked on the lower ground to the north. A few wagons, a fire and two eagles were all that marked their camp. Arno glided in and landed easily. Owen climbed off and removed his gloves and headgear. He put his hands on his hips and inspected Arno. Then he looked up. It was still early, the sun low.

  ‘Alright, Arno. Take a break. You’ve earned it.’ Owen set to removing all of Arno’s saddles and bags. They had time. Nothing would be happening this morning. Owen stowed his gear on the ground next to the eagle then went to a small mound covered by a tarpaulin sheet. He lifted it up and pulled out a rabbit. He owed Nutaaq a favour, his hunters had done a good job. He threw the unskinned carcass at Arno, who gave it an interested look. ‘Enjoy.’

  Owen had yet to see any human life among the camp, they must be sleeping. He wished he could. He made for the hillside, following a trail that had been newly forged but very well-used in the last two days. The passage of both foot and horse alike made for hard going, and by the time he reached the top he was breathing hard.

  He walked into a livelier looking camp. Here several tents stood among the trees and both Tissan and Nidhal alike moved around with a muted purpose. There were horses too, and separated at a safe distance, vargr.

  He made for the tent in the centre, the flanking Nidhal guard making the occupant’s identity easy to guess. A smaller version of the one outside Brevis, this at least was more suited to the business at hand. Owen passed under the awning and ducked inside without preamble. A small table held a crude map and a jug, and two stools were positioned to either side. A cot was hard against the far side and a simple frame holding a set of armour stood next to it. At the table, the Emperor was breaking his fast, gnawing on a leg of something. Owen stood to attention and waited.

  The Emperor looked up, made a noise, swallowed and wiped his face while indicating Owen should take the second seat.

  As Owen settled, the Emperor took a drink. It smelled like wine. ‘General. Are you well? Can I get you something?’

  ‘Yes, thank you, I am well, Your Grace. And, uh, no. I am not that hungry.’

  The Emperor nodded in understanding. ‘Too tense, your body on alert. And you haven’t slept yet, have you?’

  ‘No, Your Grace.’

  ‘Well, when you are done here, go and eat and then try and grab an hour or two. I need you fed and rested. Me? I slept like a log and am as ravenous as a wolf!’

  Owen smiled. ‘Then I envy you.’

  The Emperor grinned, a little boyishly, he had the dishevelled look of the just awoken. ‘What news, then?’

  ‘The enemy has finally struck camp. Our Eagles and Watchers are tracking their progress. They are following the trail we have laid.’

  ‘Good. Very good.’ The Emperor leaned close. Owen got a whiff or wine, saw the red-stained teeth. ‘And their arrival?’

  ‘They are moving quickly, with little caution. Cavalry is ranging ahead in large numbers. The infantry is behind with the baggage train.’

  The Emperor sat back, his face grave. ‘They sound confident.’

  ‘So they should be. They have the numbers and they believe they know what they face. Our aim was to goad them into action. To make them a little reckless in their haste to avenge their losses.’ Owen was surprised how easy that had been. Perhaps the elves were unused to reversals. He truly hoped that was the reason.

  ‘And their arrival?’ the Emperor pressed again.

  ‘I would suggest we’d see their lead elements getting here early afternoon. They will be the ones to report our position. The main cavalry force would be an hour or two behind them. The rest? Later. Dusk, perhaps if we are lucky.’

  The Emperor smiled. ‘Perfect.’

  ‘I agree, Your Grace.’

  The Emperor took another drink. ‘Very well. Go see to the dispositions. You have my confidence, Owen.’

  Owen stood. ‘Thank you, Your Grace.’ He loitered, he had one more thing to say.

  The Emperor’s eyebrow rose.

  ‘Your Grace. You know the plan as well as I, and I know as your General I should be in the middle of things. I believe I am best placed to do that in the air. It will give me the best view of the battle.’

  The Emperor quirked his mouth as he listened.

  ‘I can still relay orders via Gifted and my Eagle Riders.’

  The Emperor’s eyes hardened. Owen probably shouldn’t have mentioned the Gifted. ‘And I can react to the ebb and flow much more easily,’ he continued, hastily. ‘Your Grace will no doubt be engaged in the thick of the battle, leading from the front, so I would suggest I can best support your victory from above.’ The Emperor’s shoulders did pull pack a little at the mention of being in battle. Owen guessed a little ego fluffing wouldn’t hurt.

  ‘Yes, yes. You are probably right. I recall the old days. Too many of the generals were toadies, like flies, buzzing around my father when they should have been doing their jobs and inspiring the troops. Well, I won’t make that mistake. The people need to see their God.’ The Emperor stopped, a notion clearly coming to him. ‘What of the damned bees?’

  ‘No sign, Your Grace. Besides Cadarn will deal with them.’

  ‘Yes.’ The Emperor grinned once more. ‘This time it will be different.’

  ‘It will,’ agreed Owen. It will be. He braced, saluted and went for the exit.

  ‘Oh, Owen?’

  ‘Yes, Your Grace?’

  ‘I understand you have brought all the Gifted. Not just the Watchers. That you have armed them.’

  Owen was wondering when that might crop up. ‘That is so, Your Grace. They will fight in the front line. I can think of no better way to earn redemption.’

  The Emperor laughed bitterly. ‘There is no redemption for the likes of them. But I approve nonetheless.’

  Owen dipped his head. ‘Very good, Your Grace.’

  Gaining the outside, he took a breath. He felt a wave of fatigue roll over him. Perhaps he should go for a nap. But first he had things to do.

  He needed to send some of the Watchers to the other positions. He didn’t need them here telling him what he already knew. Do that first. Then sleep. Just for a bit.

  CHAPTER 55 – MICHAEL

  The noon-day sun was obscured by the low cloud cover, and if Michael was any judge there was water in the air. The faintest touch of wetness lighted upon his cheek. He didn’t want to be right, yet there it was. He walked just inside the edge of the treeline at the top of the slope, passing the militia who lolled in the shadows. He tried to take their measure, gain a sense of their morale. Some sat quietly, solitary, lost in their thoughts; others sat in small groups talking softly. One or two had games of dice underway and there was some good natured banter, apart from some unfortunate who had appeared to have lost all the little shaped stones they were using for wagers. By the look on his face he was taking it particularly badly.

  And of the others he passed, most were sleeping. They had the right idea. He nodded at a soldier, one of those who had been drilling the militia. A grizzled-looking sort, he sat whittling a piece of wood. When the time came it would be him and others like him who would help hold the line, stop the break that could so easily happen.

  All in all, it seemed that the gathered militia of Brevis remained stoic and calm. No different to the professional fighters of the arena. They had all seen their share of horrors and come out the other side. And they’d volunteered. He reached the eastern end of the line where the trees started to march down the slope all the way to the bottom. Set a little deeper within was another gathering, rather there were two. One group of perhaps forty or so Gifted sat together, fully armoured, shields and weapons close by. Many of them watched his approach with something a
pproaching friendliness. He spotted Sasha.

  ‘I see they found some armour to fit you.’

  Sasha glanced up with a sour look. She tugged at the breastplate. ‘It’s a little tight across the chest.’

  ‘I never liked wearing a plate. I always felt too restricted.’

  She cocked her head and eyed him up and down. ‘Surprised they could find one big enough to fit you.’

  Michael smiled. ‘Have you had time to train? Get some of your strength back?’

  ‘Not much. But the last couple of days we’ve had it better.’

  ‘I haven’t eaten so well in years,’ said Rosen, a little distance away. ‘Not since the General got us this peach of an assignment.’

  ‘He’s a good man,’ said Michael.

  ‘Something tells me it wasn’t all the General’s idea,’ observed Sasha, studying Michael.

  ‘Don’t need your Gift to work that out,’ said Rosen.

  ‘Do you see anything yet?’ Michael asked the Watcher.

  Rosen shook his head. ‘Not yet. But I reckon we might see an eagle pass overhead before I do.’

  Michael nodded to both in parting and carried on to the next group.

  A small fire was still alight, deep in a pit, with a kettle suspended over it.

  ‘I thought the order had been passed to put out fires?’ he asked, as he joined the familiar faces gathered around it.

  ‘Bugger that,’ replied Sergeant Fenner. ‘We can stop having brews when they are at the bottom of the slope.’

  ‘Fair enough. Room for one more?’

  ‘Oz, shift over, let the man in.’ The slight-looking marine with a shaven skull and a topknot of dark red hair made space.

  As Michael settled a mug was passed over. ‘Thank you, Wendell.’

  ‘Besides, they got a fire over the other side,’ the marine said, pointing west.

  Michael looked back. ‘The militia?’

  ‘Won’t be the Gifted. Certainly not the Imperial troops guarding them. Captain Shepherd will be following orders to a tee,’ said Fenner. He raised his own mug and blew on it. ‘Because he’s an arse.’

  ‘He can be as much of an arse as he likes, as long as he fights,’ said Michael.

  Fenner looked doubtful. ‘Aye, as long as he does.’

  ‘No sign yet.’ Michael wanted to change the subject. He’d feel disloyal if he started agreeing with Fenner’s opinion.

  ‘Good,’ said Fenner. ‘The later the better.’

  ‘How are the Gifted?’

  Fenner shrugged. ‘They seem oddly calm. I reckon they’ve accepted what’s going to happen.’ He tugged an earlobe. ‘You know I’ve got orders to start shooting if they try anything,’ he said softly.

  ‘I do.’

  ‘Hope I don’t have to. I got thirty marines here who are going to be too busy trying to hold this flank to worry about our own side.’

  ‘You won’t. I’m sure of it.’

  Fenner sniffed.

  ‘Well, alright then. Just remember, a lot of the gang here ain’t as even-handed as me. They might have itchy trigger fingers given an excuse.’

  Michael felt his face harden. ‘Then they’d answer to me.’

  There was an almost imperceptible shift in the mood, as those closest reacted to that last remark. Michael knew it for what it was. The marines were tough bastards and he loved them for it, but he was tougher. He caught Fenner grinning at him.

  ‘That’s what I said you’d say.’

  Michael rolled his eyes.

  ‘Wendell, fill the Father’s cup up, his tea’s getting cold.’

  Michael accepted the refill with good grace.

  ‘Sergeant?’

  They all looked at a marine walking towards them, cradling his bow.

  ‘Japes?’

  The marine jerked his thumb back at the group of Gifted. ‘The Watcher wanted you to know. He’s just seen the elves.’

  ‘Shit. He could’ve gotten up to tell me,’ said Fenner.

  ‘He said to say not to get your knickers in a twist. It’s just the advance guard. Scouts. An hour out.’

  ‘Oh. So, what do we reckon? Another few hours yet then?’ Fenner nodded at Japes. ‘Go say thanks. Wendell, get a fresh pot going. Oh, and Japes, let ’em know we got brews on if they want some.’

  Japes gave them the thumbs up as Fenner tugged at his earlobe again. ‘You know, I like Rosen. Maybe we should think about recruiting some of them into the marines …’

  Michael snorted. No one could ever accuse Fenner of being a pessimist.

  CHAPTER 56 – OWEN

  A gentle punch in the shoulder and Owen was awake. He blinked a few times. He was spread out on his front. The day was late if the gloomy sky was anything to go by. He rubbed his eyes. ‘Damn, I slept like the dead.’ And he was hungry.

  ‘Plenty of time for that after tonight – one way or another.’

  Owen turned his head to look at Jenna, who sat on her haunches next to him.

  ‘What’s up? Anything?’

  Jenna stood up. ‘Cadarn’s back. And the cavalry is about a mile away.’

  The hunger evaporated.

  ‘Oh shit.’ He pushed his blanket away, rolled over and climbed to his feet. ‘I need to get airborne.’

  Jenna placed a hand on his arm. ‘Easy, General. Everyone knows what to do. The Watchers saw them coming and the word’s been passed.’

  Owen closed his eyes, nodded and took a breath. The first moves would be the easiest. ‘Alright. You got anything to eat?’

  ‘Yeah – I’ll get you something.’

  ‘Thanks, I’ll be saddling up.’

  ‘No need – the brothers have already done it.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Can’t have the General dirtying his hands, can we?’ she said with a wry smile.

  Owen had no response so gave a weak grin instead. He jogged over to Arno. True to her word, his friend was all ready to go. He placed a hand on the eagle’s neck. ‘Hello, my friend. I hope you are ready. For the both of us.’

  Arno blinked.

  Owen did a quick sweep of the saddle: all his kit was stowed correctly; his spear and crossbow were also in their respective holsters.

  Cadarn joined him, passing over a chunk of something. It was hot to the touch.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said, taking a bite. Rabbit. Obviously. ‘How was it?’

  ‘We found two scouting parties heading north of the main body. Both have been dealt with.’

  Owen nodded as he chewed.

  ‘And your Squadron did well. It took me a while to get used to coordinating without the Gift. But Jussi helped and the hand gestures you have developed were useful. Though it’ll be harder in the darkness.’

  ‘True. But they are used to night operations. They’ve had plenty of practice.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it.’

  ‘Who’s up there now?’

  ‘Bryce. Jenna and some of the others will accompany you. The rest of us will stay back until needed.’

  ‘Good,’ Owen licked grease off his fingers. There was no tactical advantage in showing their full complement of eagles right away. They needed rest like everyone else. ‘I’m heading out. Thanks again, Cadarn, for looking after them.’ Owen turned and placed a foot on the saddle.

  ‘Owen?’

  ‘Yes?’

  Cadarn was smiling at him.

  ‘You’ve done us, done me, proud.’

  Owen stepped down and faced his Leader. Damn but his throat suddenly felt tight. Cadarn held his hand out and Owen took it in a firm grip.

  ‘See you on the other side, Leader Cadarn.’

  ‘You too, General Derle.’

  Owen sighed and looked to the heavens. Seriously, how did this all happen?

  He climbed on to the saddle and bid Arno launch.

  As he lurched into the sky, he saluted Cadarn and the man waved back. Arno went straight for the hill, climbing just over the treetops and skimming the crest. Down below there was all kinds of
movement. Word had indeed gone out. The militia, their polearms waving haphazardly, were emerging from their positions and making their way a little down the slope. He caught the sound of barked orders as soldiers bullied them into line. And then he was beyond them, beyond the slope and passing over the stream and the bridge.

  ‘Eyes open, Arno.’ Owen scanned the skies and was rewarded with a black shape not far away. ‘Bryce?’

  ‘Yeah. Wondering if you were going to show.’

  Owen ignored that. ‘Where are they?’

  ‘Look down.’

  He did. ‘Oh.’

  A broad line of horses was cantering over a slight rise. Even in the gloom, the herd of white and grey mounts was a magnificent sight. And those that rode them wore bright white armour, bore pennants of gold and silver on the end of long, sturdy lances. Heavy cavalry.

  ‘How many?’

  ‘A thousand? Maybe more?’

  ‘It’s better than what we could have expected. I guess we should be thankful.’

  There was a moment’s silence. ‘Owen, that’s just the first wave.’

  As that line of a thousand horses moved beyond the rise and onwards towards the tributary, it was replaced by another of equal size. Arno turned south, flying high over the cavalry and as Bryce had said, beyond that wave was a third, a few hundred yards back.

  ‘Sorry, Owen, we always planned on getting the shitty end of the stick.’ Bryce had never sounded so apologetic before.

  ‘Yeah, we should be so lucky. Well – we planned for this.’ Kind of. ‘Stick with them, I want to see what’s coming up behind.’

  ‘Take care, they still have plenty of light cavalry around. Bastards are too good with bows.’

  Owen carried on south. Below him there were plenty of horses going to and fro between the cavalry and those on foot. He spotted the main body, a great line of marching troops receding back into the distance. So damn many. But at least they were still some distance away. He just hoped the elves wanted to end this quickly.