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Loric motioned toward the company of bowmen with a chop of his hand. Then he led his

riders in turning toward them. They maintained their jog to keep those archers ignorant of their impending doom. At fifty yards, Loric swung his hand twice, and his riders responded by urging steeds to greater speeds. They were upon the enemy flank before the bowmen noticed them.

Their foes wore light armor and bore long swords for secondary weapons. Against armored lancers a-horse, they were utterly overmatched.

Loric raced in and skewered an archer before he could turn his bow and let fly. Then he discarded his imbedded lance in favor of his blade. The Sword of Logant sung praises to the Soul Snatcher, as bewildered archers toppled over one another in desperation to escape Riders of Shimmermir, in Egolstadt.

Loric and his followers cut a swath through helpless bowmen. Then he urged his men, “Let them run. Baldron and Gradlin need our help.”

Enemy footmen had devastated the rearguard and their mounted reinforcements during

Loric’s ride around the Landolstadters. Even now, his two lieutenants were struggling to hold together a failing line. Nevertheless, Loric and his riders were perfectly aligned with the footmen, who showed no sign they knew what was about to befall them.

Loric signaled a single chop for the mounted jog, but he did not wait as long to render up the double-hand motion. They were but a score of men now. Their numbers were too few to win the fight before them. Others would have to sing of their deeds when they fell. They knew what awaited them, but they embraced Fate, knowing that surprise was with them. They were heartily confident following their action against the company of archers, so they let loose reins and shouts and thundered toward surprised Men of Landolstadt.

Their foemen initially cheered them on, but at the last, cries of fear drowned those cheers.

Then there was the
clash.
Sunset bowled over half-dozen foes before Loric found an enemy within reach of his sword. He slashed the man as he turned to face him. The footman expired with a spray of blood and a pained gasp. Loric sprang from his saddle to tackle a foe to Baldron’s blindside, and a fierce melee ensued. The knight rolled with his enemy, flinging him off as they tumbled to halt. The soldier raised a maul to bludgeon Loric, but twelve inches of blooded steel burst from the man’s chest. Loric thanked Baldron, who pulled him to his feet with a wry grin.

Loric stood beside his lieutenant, battling foe after foe. Their enemies were endless in numbers, so that Loric nearly despaired of defeating them all.

The press of the attack was too great for Loric’s small company to endure. Again, his end was upon him, just minutes from his beloved Avalana. He kept on fighting, inspired by the tickle of the bracelet on his arm.

There arose a great shout, away to the south. Loric remained locked in deadly combat with one of his foemen, but he turned him so he could chance a glance in the direction of the sound.

He nearly cheered in the midst of his struggle, for he and his men had drawn enough of Hadregeon’s strength away from his middle for Garrick to commit his forces in full frontal assault. Men of Durbansdan were pouring through a hole they punched in the centerline of the enemy. Meanwhile, the garrison of Moonriver Castle chose that moment to sally forth, further swelling the number of men in Hadregeon’s broken middle.

With his army split, Hadregeon had no choice but to quit the field with two separate armies.

Enemy horns sounded the retreat. That somber note blew just in time, because Loric’s company was wrestling with more men than it could handle. They would soon crush his command.

Loric’s foe eagerly pushed him away and turned to flee. An arrow struck him between his shoulder blades and he dropped dead on the field. Loric shot a look behind him to determine who had loosed the missile. It was Warnyck.

“Was that necessary?” Loric demanded.

Warnyck showed him a vulpine smile, answering, “It was if you value your life.”

Loric peered at the scout questioningly. “What do you mean?”

“That man had a dagger with your name on it, Sir Loric,” Warnyck informed him.

Upon closer inspection, Loric found the blade, which was balanced for throwing. It was lying next to the man’s lifeless hand. He lifted his green eyes to meet the scout’s and said,

“Again you amaze me, Warnyck. This time it is your keen sight that leaves me speechless.”

“It was nothing.” Warnyck shrugged. “I am an observer by trade. I make it my business to see everything.” The scout lifted his head in motion toward the weapon Loric held and said, “I would have that dagger to supplement your praises.” He grinned.

Loric handed the blade over and asked, “What brings you hither at such opportune time?”

“I bear a message from Lord Aldric,” Warnyck replied. “Congratulations on accomplishing your mission to the utter ruin of our enemies. You are to withdraw from here and come in person to speak with His Lordship of Egolstadt, Aldric son of Eldrin of Emerald Spires, in Egolstadt.”

“Yes, of course,” Loric replied. “Pray, give me one moment to set my men in order.”

“Understood,” Warnyck replied.

“Baldron!” Loric called. “Have the men gather wounded and bear them to Elberon.

Afterward, take a head count and see to the fallen. May the Great King honor the brave,” he finished solemnly.

“Yes, captain,” came Baldron’s prompt response. “I am honored to serve you, milord.”

“Gradlin!” Loric shouted.

There was no word from Gradlin. Loric surveyed the surrounding area in search of his

lieutenant, but he did not see him. His chest tightened. Then, much to his relief, Gradlin staggered up beside him, muttering incoherently. His face was bruised and bleeding. Gradlin had sustained injury to his face to hinder communication. Loric had known a man with a broken jaw-

-a mule had kicked the poor fool, who had to drink his food ever after. He hoped his brave lieutenant would not suffer permanent loss of speech. He hated the thought of losing Gradlin as a lieutenant, but the man would not be able to issue commands if he shared the same fate as the fellow Loric remembered. There was only one person he could trust with an injury this severe: Princess Avalana of Regalsturn, She of the healing hands.

“Baldron, you have the whole company,” Loric informed him. “Assign Gradlin’s most

trustworthy man to see to prisoners. His lordship summons me.”

Gradlin pointed out his choice for Baldron, who said quietly, “Yes, milord. Understood, Gradlin.”

Loric beckoned Gradlin to come with him and Warnyck to meet Lord Aldric. When they

found the Lord of Egolstadt, he was cleaning his blade and smiling as though savoring the taste of battle. He greeted them warmly as they approached.

“Well done, Loric!” he exclaimed. “You performed admirably.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Loric said in response.

“Now we await Lord Garrick’s orders,” Aldric shared. “You may have noticed that our

attack split Hadregeon’s army?” he questioned. When Loric nodded, he informed him, “His forces have fled in two directions. The problem that presents,” Aldric continued, “is that we will have to divide our host if we wish to pursue both enemy forces.”

“Yes, my lord,” Loric agreed.

“Lord Garrick must decide
if
we should follow them and how we should go about it. If we do in fact split our forces to pursue these sundered forces, he must decide how we are to do that as well.”

“That is a weighty decision,” Loric said.

“Until it is made, we will enjoy a brief respite here at the castle,” said Aldric. “Does that sound good to you?”

“Yes, my lord,” Loric replied with a grin. His thoughts were already straying to

imaginations of beautiful Avalana as he added, “That sounds excellent indeed.”

In merry agreement, they made for the gates of Moonriver and the Hall of Heroes. Within they would find refreshment and rest, and Loric would seek out much needed care for his wounded lieutenant. A well-deserved break was in order for the exhausted army. Pursuit of Hadregeon would have to wait. If all went as Loric hoped, so too would a pending engagement.

Chapter Sixteen

Stings: New and Old

Lord Aldric escorted Loric, Warnyck and Gradlin through the castle gates, from whence they made their way to the keep. Others passed mounts to stable hands that came and met them along their way, but the Knight of Shimmermir simply turned Sunset loose in the courtyard, knowing that no one would dare touch the red stallion. When those weary warriors ascended the portico, haggard sentries greeted them and opened the way unto Lord Aldric. The lord and his companions passed within and made straight for the Hall of Heroes.

They entered the audience chamber and bowed low before Lady Elena, who was sitting in regency for Lord Garrick. She appeared queenly in flat gray colors that reflected the mood she had taken during her wait for her son and her lord husband to return home. Given the

circumstances of their late arrival, her expression was steady and reserved, with but an occasional twitch to disclose her anxiety. Elena made a flippant wave of her hand to brush ceremony aside, so the lord and his men rose.

“My Lady of Durbansdan,” Aldric began, “we have tidings of all that has befallen since we departed.”

“Say on,” answered Elena, her quivering lips affecting her words.

“We defeated King Turtioc of Nindronburg in open battle and forced him to surrender his false claim on the Throne of Beledon.” Aldric smiled as he continued, saying, “Turtioc is now a Lord of Beledon rather than the king he supposed he was, for he swears fealty to His Lordship, Garrick of Durbansdan.”

“What of my husband and son?” asked Elena. Her words were flat and emotionless, but her watery green eyes betrayed her fears as she blinked her tears from view.

“Both live, milady,” blurted Warnyck, who was unable to hold back his tidings. “I was with them, not a turn of the glass past. Garrick sends word that he and Garrett will come hither as soon as they are able, milady.”

Elena was relieved, although she tried to mask her emotions with the dutiful face propriety demanded. She smiled through her tears, nodding, as Aldric continued his account, “We did not arrive here a moment too soon, for we have come fresh from another fight, my lady. As you well know, King Hadregeon of Landolstadt dared to make open war on us by bringing battle to your gates. He shall rue the day he chose to attack the Lord and Lady of Durbansdan!” Aldric swore.

“We have turned him back from Moonriver like the groveling dog he is. Even now, he flees with his army divided. We will rest and await Lord Garrick’s decision, ere we end this matter, for it is
his
burden to determine our next course of action.”

Aldric’s report ended acquiescently, as was proper, but Loric thought he was holding

something back, just beneath his smooth, lordly facade. It did not go by the lady, whose eyebrows rose in question. Loric wondered whether Aldric wished the choice were his to make.

“What if the decision was yours to make, brother?” asked the lady, as if she too had read his thoughts. “What would you do? You speak as one who has already decided upon a course of action.”

“I would strike swiftly,” Aldric blurted, with some agitation. His voice trembled as he backhanded his palm and added, “I would hit our foe while he is unbalanced and disorganized!

Even now, we are losing our precious advantage. Waiting allows him time to re-gather his strength. My mind is made up.”

“And you?” Elena asked, suddenly settling her green eyes on Loric. “What would you do?”

“M-Me?” questioned he. A belated, “My lady,” followed.

“Yes, friend of the Guardian Knight,” Elena answered, eyeing the emblem on Loric’s

surcoat. She smiled a tolerant smile and explained, “My lord husband is sometimes rash in his decision making, as are my son and brother.” Her eyes jabbed at Aldric. “I often seek opinions of squires and common men. Speak freely. Tell me: what would you do?”

“My eagerness to pursue our enemies gives me cause to agree with Lord Aldric, for we may never again have an opportunity like the one we have now. Hadregeon’s host is in confusion, so we should move swiftly. However, the enemy came to this place as two separate armies. Even though they have fled as two wounded forces, they may not be as vulnerable as we would like to think they are.”

“An excellent point,” Elena remarked. “Which of Hadregeon’s armies would you pursue?”

she asked, her eyes searching him.

“I would split our forces and destroy both fragments,” Loric answered matter-of-factly.

“Easier said than done!” exclaimed a voice behind him. It was none other than Lord Garrick.

His gaze was as hard as stone. “Questioning my military men again, are you, my lady wife?” he inquired.

Elena offered a subtle nod. Tears flowed down her cheeks, incongruous with her smile.

Loric was afraid he had said too much.

A smile broke across Garrick’s hardened features. It pleases me; the way you look after me, my beautiful wife. He turned a hard look upon Loric and questioned, “Still posing as the Ghost of Sir Palendar?” He waved away his query before Loric grasped for a response, beaming broadly at Aldric’s captain. “Pose howsoever you should like!” he cried merrily. “You executed your task perfectly today, Sir Loric of Shimmermir and Taeglin. You have impressed me with each action of this conflict, which is why I value your opinion more with each passing day. Yet, you remain humble. I can see that you are worried you may have offended me.” He laughed aloud, “Not to fear, young knight, for I am wholeheartedly in agreement with you. We should divide our forces and pursue both of Hadregeon’s armies. But we should hold to caution in this venture, lest our enemy should lead us into a trap.” Garrick paused for a moment. “My reason for chasing both halves of Hadregeon’s army is twofold. First, I want neither of those forces to withdraw from Durbansdan intact. Second, and of the greatest importance to me, we are not sure which portion Hadregeon has joined in his flight. He is the man I least want to escape to Landolstadt.”