The struggle for authori.., p.12
The Struggle for Authority, page 12
With a cry of rage, Kernon rose in his stirrups, calling the men forward. A shout arose, and the entire line of horsemen charged after Jonas.
As Kernon galloped forward, he noticed something happening along the line of trees. His eyes went wide as horsemen streamed out from between the trees, surging past both Jonas and Will Prentis.
A huge soldier rode at their head, and Kernon’s heart abruptly missed a beat when he realized who it was. Rufe Sarjant was leading the charge. Where had he come from?
A hunting horn sounded from somewhere behind them, then another. They were surrounded. Kernon saw then that they had been outwitted and deceived.
It made no difference. Victory or death, there was no backing out now.
Kernon galloped forward, screaming his defiance.
The lines crashed together, and Kernon’s world descended into a confusion of shouting men and screaming horses. He had fought before, but the fury of the men before him was unlike anything he had encountered. His attackers were literally howling for blood. And there were so many of them.
Assaulted from two sides, Kernon cast his eyes around frantically, searching for support. No help would be coming. All of the mercenaries were equally beset, and men went down even as his glance fell on them.
Taking advantage of his distraction, his attackers broke through his defenses. He toppled to the ground, agonizing pain overwhelming him. Before everything went dark a face he recognized flashed briefly into view. His fading thought was the realization that he had been brought low by his own soldiers—the men he had left waiting in the camp below Steffan’s Citadel.
Thomas remained among the trees when the fighting started. He had never witnessed a battle on this scale before, and even as a distant observer he found the experience confronting. The chaos bewildered him—how could any commander make sense of what was happening?—and the harrowing cries of men and horses oppressed him.
To his untrained eye there was little to distinguish between the two sides, and when the fighting eventually ended he wasn’t at first certain who had won. It was with enormous relief that he eventually spotted Will. The commander stood on a low mound surveying the scene, Rufe and Jonas beside him. All of them appeared unharmed and in control of the situation.
Thomas eventually mustered the courage to approach them, although he stayed out of the way, both to avoid distracting them and because he felt completely out of place.
After the battle, soldiers collapsed to the ground in exhaustion. Others tended to the wounded. No one seemed to notice his arrival, and he was happy to remain inconspicuous.
Thomas’s attention was soon drawn to Will. The commander mounted his horse and rode slowly among the men, greeting them and thanking them for their efforts. A murmur of voices rose in anticipation as he drew near. Hands reached out to touch his horse as he passed. Even the faces of gravely wounded men lit up when he turned their way, his regard somehow dulling their pain for a time.
Was it always like this after a battle? Thomas had heard about Will’s reputation, but he’d always assumed it arose from his uncanny strategic abilities. He saw now that there was more to the commander than he’d ever imagined.
“They claimed you were a traitor,” one of the soldiers called to Will, shaking his head.
“Yeah. Supposedly you’d run off to Varas!” scoffed another. “Rufe too.”
“None of us believed it. Not for a minute,” said a soldier. Loud grunts of assent accompanied the remark.
“I am grateful to you all,” Will told them. “After the lies you’d been told, we didn’t know what to expect,” he said frankly.
Many of the soldiers looked baffled at the idea there could be any uncertainty about their response. “‘Will needs your help,’” one of them said simply. “That’s what Rufe told us.” He said it as if no further explanation was necessary.
The men around him grunted their affirmation.
Will nodded gravely, and moved on.
Thomas looked on in astonishment. How could any leader inspire such devotion from battle-hardened warriors? He felt like he was seeing Will properly for the first time.
These men called him ‘Will’, not Lord Torbury, and Will made no move to correct them. Thomas guessed that many of the soldiers had served under him at Torbury Scarp. Will was the kind of man to value the bond he shared with his men far above any formal title.
After spending time moving among the soldiers, Will made his way to a large group of men off to one side. The survivors from Lord Redfass’s mercenary force—perhaps eighty men—had been herded together and stripped of their weapons. They gave him a very different kind of response. Most of them had been sprawling listlessly on the ground. They sat up at once when they saw who was approaching. Some faces showed defiance. Others simply showed fear.
Will sat on his horse for a considerable time, regarding them silently. “What’s that symbol tattooed onto your right arms?” he finally asked.
At first no one responded, but eventually one of the men said, “It’s Lord Redfass’s mark. He required every man who signed on with him to have it.”
The commander studied the men thoughtfully. “It would be simplest just to kill you all. You deserve it after your treason.”
Many faces paled at his remark. But he had more to say.
“I’m going to give you a second chance. You can leave and go wherever you want. You’ll be going without your weapons and without your horses. Take a water skin and food from your saddlebags—nothing more. Every one of you can be identified by your tattoo. If you ever sign on as mercenaries again, you won’t receive mercy a second time.”
The men were led to their horses to collect a few provisions, then they were escorted away. Thomas noticed a few of them scowling, but most seemed grateful to have escaped with their lives.
The men had been gone for only a few minutes when Thomas noticed a commotion off in the distance. Most of the mercenaries were still striding away, shadowed by a mounted escort. But about twenty men had broken away from the main group and stopped entirely. Two of the soldiers escorting the group had remained with them, and a third was riding back toward Will.
“What’s the holdup?” Will asked when the soldier arrived.
“Some of the men insist they want to join your army, Will,” he replied. “What do you want us to do with them?”
Will turned to Rufe and raised his eyebrows.
Rufe nodded. “I’ll check them out,” he said. “Where’s Thomas?” he asked.
Thomas rode forward. “Over here, Rufe,” he called.
The two of them rode together to the smaller group. Thomas tried to look casual, but it brightened him enormously to know that Rufe thought he might have something to offer.
“Tell me if you see anything unusual,” Rufe said as they approached the men.
Bringing the stone into contact with his skin, Thomas scanned the men. In most of them he saw regret and a desire to set things right. Two of the men were concealing a very different set of motives.
Rufe glanced in his direction, and without saying a word Thomas pointed the two men out.
Seeing that the game was up, both of them immediately turned and sprinted off after the main group.
“The others?” asked Rufe.
Thomas furrowed his brows for a moment, then nodded slowly.
“Come with us,” Rufe told them. “The final decision lies with Will.”
Thomas quietly exhaled a sigh of relief as they rode back to the commander. He’d finally been able to make a contribution of his own. Until that moment he’d felt completely useless.
When they reached Will, the commander turned a questioning look on the men.
“We didn’t sign up to fight you or the king, Will,” one of them told him. “I was with you at Torbury Scarp!”
Will eyed him for a moment, then cast his eyes across the whole group. “I’m willing to give you a chance,” he told them. “Don’t make me regret it.”
Unable to contain their delight, they all began talking at once, their faces glowing.
“Shall I spread them throughout the ranks?” asked Rufe.
Will shook his head. “No. The other men will give them a hard time. Find them a captain of their own. They’ll do better if they stay together.”
Rufe nodded and headed off with Timo to find someone suitable to lead them.
They returned with a grizzled veteran who looked as if he wouldn’t take any nonsense. But he spoke to the men reasonably enough as he led them away.
Will never seemed able to relax. He called Timo to his side. “Rufe told me you were leading half of the men today,” he said. “You did well.”
“Thanks, Will,” Timo replied. “It was an honor.”
“I’m going to need to ask much more of you,” Will told him. “I want you to lead this army.”
His request clearly took Timo by surprise. “What about you? And Rufe?”
“We’re needed elsewhere. We can talk more about it later. Are you willing to lead?”
Timo nodded.
“Then you can make a start almost immediately. I’m expecting a couple of visitors soon. When they arrive I’ll need you to call the men together.”
Timo nodded once more. “I’ll be ready.”
Thomas could readily guess who the visitors might be, and he was not surprised when the king and queen rode in, escorted by Jonas and a sizable group of soldiers.
Timo gathered the troops together, and a ripple of anticipation passed through them when they realized who stood before them.
Will led the king to a mound, and he climbed upon it and faced the troops.
Every head was turned to him as he addressed them in a loud voice. “You have been reunited with your commander today.” Loud whoops of jubilation broke out across the throng. “You have fought at his side once more, and you have won!” The king had to wait for some time before the cheering subsided.
“You have cast aside the traitors who claimed to be acting in my name. The kingdom is not yet safe, though. The traitors are led by the former Earl of Pisander, the man who plotted to turn Arnost over to the Rogandan commander during the invasion. At the time your commander exposed him and prevented him from carrying out his plan. Then you crushed the Rogandan army at Torbury Scarp!” Deafening cheers broke out.
The king continued when the din subsided a little. “We thought that the war was over. But King Agon of Rogand paid Pisander to hire assassins. They tried to kill me and the queen, along with our allies, King Istel of Castel and King Delmar of Varas. It grieves me to say that King Istel, my father-in-law, was killed. I was gravely wounded, but your queen fought back vigorously, and with the help of others the assassins were driven off.”
More cheering broke out. The queen waved to them, and the men roared in response.
The king continued as soon as the noise abated. “I wish I could tell you that the kingdom is now secure. But it is not. Pisander has taken control of Arnost, and he intends to repay his debt to King Agon of Rogand by inviting him to Arnost. The king of Rogand expects to take control of Arvenon.”
The king’s news was initially met by stunned silence, but a howl of anger quickly went up at the suggestion of a Rogandan king taking control of Arnost. Only a few years had passed since these men and their comrades had suffered and died to prevent exactly that outcome.
The king waited until the clamor died down. “We will need you to secure our border with Rogand. Agon must be prevented from entering Arvenon.” A growl of affirmation rose at this statement.
“There is a great deal at stake still, and I must borrow your commander for a while longer. I promise that you will be capably led by trustworthy men, though.” Without waiting for the grunts of dismay to die down, the king called out more loudly than ever, “But I can leave you with some exceedingly good news!” At this, Queen Essanda stepped up beside him, holding a bundle in her arms. “Your queen has given birth to our son and heir! I present to you Prince Aiden!”
The king took the baby from his wrappings and thrust him into the air above the multitude.
His news was greeted with a thunderous roar of acclamation. Thomas joined in at the top of his lungs. The cheering continued until the king gave a final wave and stepped down with the queen and baby prince.
Will quickly took their place, holding up his hands for silence. The din gradually died away.
“As you have heard, I need to accompany the king and queen for a while longer. In the meantime, you will be led by one of your own—Timo.” As he was speaking, he waved Timo up beside him.
The appointment was greeted by more muted applause, but Thomas noticed many heads nodding in silent approval. It appeared that Timo would begin with the cautious support of his men. Whether or not the support matured into enthusiasm would be up to him.
Thomas had little doubt about the outcome. Will would never have appointed Timo if he didn’t already hold him in high regard, and Thomas had witnessed Will’s ability as a judge of character. He also knew from personal experience that Will had a way of drawing out the potential in a person.
Spotting Elena among the royal party, Thomas eagerly set out to join her.
Hidden among the trees, Carnwill watched with fascination as the ascendancy of Redfass and his cronies came to a sudden and decisive end.
The appearance of the king and queen of Arvenon ought to have been enough to capture Carnwill’s full attention, but his eyes were drawn only to a young woman of rare beauty. He was not at all surprised when the companion of the big soldier sought her out after the battle. The way they embraced settled once and for all the question of their identity.
Carnwill was looking at Thomas Stablehand and his wife, and a gloating smile came over his face as he eyed his prize. King Agon would be very pleased indeed.
Wresting Thomas away from the soldiers would present a worthy challenge, but it was someone else’s problem.
13
The commander of Steffan’s Citadel stood on the battlements gazing down at the camp below him. Soldiers had returned to it the previous day, but tents were now being taken down and the men showed every sign of preparing to leave. Something significant had clearly happened down there. He wanted answers, but he was not willing to risk sending any of his men.
He was about to turn away when he noticed a small group of men riding up from the camp toward the citadel. He peered down curiously at them until they disappeared from sight as they reached the gates.
A soldier soon climbed to the battlements and approached him. “A visitor has arrived at the gates of the citadel, Commander,” he said. “He claims he has permission to enter.”
The commander frowned. “Who is it?” he demanded. He had been commanded to close the border between Erestor and the rest of Arvenon, and to deny access to all comers, with just two exceptions: Lord Burtelen, who had already passed through the gates, and Lord Torbury, better known as Will Prentis.
“It’s Will Prentis.”
The commander glanced at the soldier in amazement. “You mean Lord Torbury. How do you know for certain it’s him?”
“A number of the men recognized him.”
“Well don’t just stand there, man! Let him in!”
* * *
The following morning the commander sat in his private quarters pondering the events of the last couple of days. The brief contact with Lord Torbury the previous day had raised many questions while providing few answers. A conference had been arranged, though, and it was due to begin in a little over two hours. To the commander’s astonishment, Lord Torbury had announced that the king and queen would be attending.
Since then the citadel had been buzzing with activity. The commander’s men were scurrying about the citadel, scrubbing, tidying, and preparing refreshments. Now, with most of the work done, the commander finally felt able to relax. He was anticipating the meeting with considerable interest.
His musing was interrupted by one of his aides. “The duke has arrived and wishes to see you, Commander.”
“The duke? Already?” The commander raised his eyebrows. “It’s surely only a couple of days since we sent him a message. Show him to our best guest chambers and make sure he is comfortable. I will come down directly.”
The aide hurried away to do his bidding.
The citadel had never been in better condition for a surprise visit by the duke. The timing of Lord Torbury’s meeting was fortuitous indeed. The commander put on his best uniform and headed down the stairs.
He entered the guest chambers to find the duke sipping on a goblet of wine. “My Lord Duke—this is an unexpected pleasure! I sent a message to alert you to some changes, but I didn’t expect you would even receive it before today.”
The duke smiled. “Yes, I encountered the messenger on my way here. It seems to have been excellent timing on my part.”
“To what do we owe the honor of your visit?” the commander asked.
“Two men—one of whom is known to me—arrived with a message from Lord Torbury,” the duke replied. “I rode here with the messengers,” he concluded with a smile.
The commander’s eyebrows rose in surprise. How had these messengers reached Maranelle if they came from Lord Torbury? The only way into Erestor was through the citadel, and no one at all had been admitted in recent days.
The commander thrust aside his own questions. “As it happens I will be meeting with Lord Torbury in little over an hour. He is planning to bring the king and queen with him. Perhaps you would be willing to join us?”
“It would be my pleasure, Commander. Perhaps you would be kind enough to send the king and queen to my quarters when they first arrive.”
