Rise of the Red Harbinger (33 page)

Donovan looked back at Garrison incredulously. “You cannot be serious, brother. Look at the three of you! You will not reach the House on your own. Who knows how many more soldiers are out there!”

“That is exactly my point. Who knows how many soldiers are still out there? There are ten of us sitting here. Only ten. The two of you are more beneficial back in Alvadon. Jahmash is coming. Soon. The Blind have confirmed it. If we separate, at least our chances of survival are greater. The Taurani and I will travel southeast to the House. Donovan, you and Wendell will ride back to Alvadon to…”

Wendell cut off Garrison. “With all due respect, Garrison, you are no longer the Prince. We do not really have to listen to you.”

“I am not commanding you. I am providing you with common sense. If we all ride to the House and are attacked, the risk is that we all die. At least if the two of you ride back north, you would wear your armor and would be left unharmed. The Taurani and I will take your five soldiers. Surely you see the sense in that, Wendell.”

Wendell nodded reluctantly as Donovan spoke up. “But…”

“He is right, Donovan,” Wendell cut in, “We must not forget our own responsibilities. King Edmund will do nothing to ready the armies. If Garrison does not reach the House of Darian, it is even more important for us to be in Alvadon. We must lead the Royal Vermilion Army now.”

Donovan shook his head in annoyance as he rose and walked to the tree where Old Clint still hung. Donovan pulled the spear from the tree. As the dead man’s body fell to the ground in a heap, Donovan grunted and threw the spear into the dark forest.

Garrison braced himself to stand, but Wendell had beaten him to it. “Stay, Garrison. I will speak to him.”

Before Wendell could turn to leave, Donovan had already returned. “I understand why you are doing this. I truly do. I will follow your plan, brother. But that does not mean that I agree with it. And if you die before even reaching the House of Darian, I swear that I shall never forgive you.”

Garrison failed to suppress the chuckle, “What would you do? Follow me in death just to show me how angry you are?”

Donovan’s clenched jaw softened. “Hmmph. I would! I would search each of the Three Rings and once I find you, I would bloody your face until the Orijin banishes me to Oblivion for eternity.”

“Oblivion? Ha! He would send you to Opprobrium for something like that!”

“Oh. I see. So you speak for the Orijin now, brother? Rather overzealous, no?”

Garrison rolled his eyes at Donovan, but it was too dark for his brother to notice. “Forget it. Let us sleep while we have the time. In the morning, your soldiers will ride south with me and the Taurani. You and the Lion will return to Alvadon. Wear the red-plumed helmets. Which reminds me. Why the natural-colored ridges?”

Wendell cut in, “What did you call me?”

Garrison smiled again, “When we were at the Tower of the Blind, one of the servants was originally from Maradon. He remembered me and the two of you from when we were younger. Remember how everyone used to call you the ‘Lion Cub’ back then? You are grown now. Why not call yourself the Lion? Every great general is associated with a powerful symbol. Think about it, Wendell. You could fit all of the helmets to bear yellow ridges. Once my father is out of power anyway. It would be a new army.”

Wendell traditionally kept his composure unless on the battle field, but Garrison assumed he’d liked the suggestion, as Wendell emphatically threw his hands up. “Yes! Why did I not think of that! We only used the yellow and brown ridges because we wanted to stand out from the red and we had no time to dye them. But that makes perfect sense!”

Garrison continued, “Good. Finally you agree with me about something. So as I said, we shall separate in the morning. The Taurani and I will also wear the royal armor. If anyone sees us, we will simply look like a small band of trackers. As long as no other soldiers attempt to confront us, it may even make for an easy journey. Though that is wishful thinking. Now let us sleep.”

Donovan and Wendell had volunteered to keep the first watch while the rest slept. Garrison laid down where he’d been sitting and tried to clear his mind. His knee and ankle still throbbed, but his weariness proved stronger as he drifted into a deep sleep in barely a few moments.

***

“Aron, Ronan, Lewis! Stay at a pace with Marika. She will stand out if seen by herself.” Garrison and his small band had ridden for most of the morning and afternoon, stopping only briefly when absolutely necessary. He’d continued to silently thank the Orijin throughout the day for their horses remaining where they’d left them. The more they rode, the more Garrison’s ankle swelled, but he maintained a sense of gratitude that they didn’t have to walk.

Marika wore royal armor, just as the rest of them, but even the smallest armor was big for her stature. Because of that, she had foregone the vambraces and wore only the chest and shoulder plates and a helmet. If she rode too fast, her armor flopped about, making it obvious that she was no soldier. Garrison had to continue to remind the soldiers to slow down. He would take the risk of a longer journey if it lessened the chances of being noticed.

On the other hand, Yorik fit in perfectly with the soldiers. He was bigger than all of them save Kale, a massive man from Alvadon, eight years Garrison’s senior. Despite his colossal and intimidating frame, Kale was the biggest joker of the group, constantly playing tricks on the others and poking fun at them. He’d already tricked Lewis into rubbing horse dung on his forearm to relieve soreness. And when he wasn’t causing trouble, Kale never stopped talking about combat stories and battle strategies. As a result, he and Yorik got along like brothers.

Garrison had split the group into to riding lines. Lewis, Marika, Aron, and Ronan rode in front with a pack horse. Aron and Ronan were twins with hawk-like eyesight; Garrison needed them to keep lookout for any evidence of other soldiers. Clay accompanied him, Yorik, and Kale on the second line. Despite Marika’s pace, they rode rather swiftly. As the day wore on, Marika had figured out ways to ride more comfortably and lessen the movement of her armor.

Ahead, Aron raised his hand high, signaling for them to stop. “Do you hear that?”

Garrison listened for a moment. “Hear what?”

Aron continued, “Exactly…”

“…It is too quiet.” Ronan finished the sentence. The twins had a habit of doing that. Most people, especially Donovan and Wendell, found it annoying, but Garrison found it oddly humorous.

“No animals around,” Garrison deduced. “Soldiers must be near. How many do you think could actually hide here, though?”

This time, Ronan began, “Most likely only a few.”

Aron continued. “Scouts. We are nearly out of the forest. The rest of them would…

“…be waiting for us once we are more exposed.”

Garrison signaled for them all to draw in close. “Do you have an idea of their numbers?” Aron and Ronan both swayed their heads negatively. “Then what is our best option? We do not have enough time to hide the horses and take to the trees.”

Aron and Ronan looked at one another and nodded before Ronan spoke up again. “The two of us will ride ahead…”

“…and scout their numbers and position.”

“Then we can properly strategize the situation.” Ronan scratched his patchy beard. It was the only way to tell him and Aron apart.

Garrison nodded and the twins rode off. While they waited, Garrison ordered the others to take inventory of their weapons. On his own person, he carried a sword, two spears, a belt of daggers, a bow and a half quiver of arrows, and his other belt of pouches. Before they’d parted ways with Wendell and Donovan, they raided the bodies of dead soldiers and took everything they could carry.

Garrison inspected his pouches. He’d already used all of the black, yellow, and red. The blue would only be of use if they were near water, which left the green and brown. Each would be easy to camouflage in their current surroundings. If they were greatly outnumbered, the brown would work best, as it caused the ground to break apart. If he could manage to plant all of the pouches, it might cause a massive enough rift to keep a large number of soldiers away. The only problem was that blood was the catalyst that triggered the brown. He would have to find a way to trigger it quickly and easily.

In the hour that the company had taken stock of their weapons, the twins had returned. Aron began with a half-smile, “The news is rather…”

“…fortunate,” Ronan continued. “Their numbers are less than twenty. They must have…”

“…broken off another squadron to cover more ground.”

Garrison still wondered how anyone could find their back-and-forth annoying. “You are sure of this? Their supplies fit their numbers?”

Ronan responded, “If there are more,”

Aron continued, “…then they are too far away to be detected. If that is the case, they do not pose…”

“…any immediate threat.”

Kale spoke up, “Good. Then the best plan is for the five of us to ride out toward them, Commander Garrison. They will see us and think nothing of it. We can kill them when the time is appropriate. You three will ride directly south toward the Serpent and we will meet you once we are done. Take the pack-horses as well. Cross the river as soon as you can. Do not wait for us, just in case we run into trouble.”

Kale must have been spending a great deal of time with Wendell. His plan was sound and Garrison could find no point to argue. “Very well. We shall see you at the river. Yorik, Marika, let us go.”

Garrison turned his horse and urged it to a gallop heading south. The sun was still high enough to cross the Serpent with plenty of light. Marika and Yorik caught up to him within a few moments.

They rode on for another two hours in silence. Yorik had tried to make conversation early, but Marika warned that talking would slow them down and draw their focus, and they needed to reach the Serpent as quickly as possible. In the far recesses of his mind, Garrison had questioned briefly the reality of their success. He understood how difficult it would be to reach the House without any casualties, if at all. But he’d repressed those thoughts quickly. He’d had to if he was going to be successful. There could be no second guessing, no being caught off-guard, and no shaky strategies. A part of him thought Marika might even make a good general in the royal army. But he would bring that up another time.

The forest had cleared and led directly to the banks of the river. “We will keep riding along the bank until we can find an appropriate place to cross. It is too far to the other side right now.”

Yorik disagreed. “Why waste the time? Let us leave our horses and swim across! None of us will need our horses on the other side.”

“And what if there are more soldiers on the other side, Yorik?” Garrison turned in his saddle to look at the Taurani. “Will you outrun them on foot? We do not have the luxury of taking risks just yet. I know you are eager, but Ronan and the others have bought us some time. We will ride for a few more miles. If we find nothing, then we will do as you say. Fair?” Yorik nodded, though his countenance still expressed disagreement. Garrison let it go. As long as the man listened, he didn’t care if Yorik had doubts. They were hours away from the House of Darian. Garrison wouldn’t dare risk anything now. As he was about to turn forward once again, Garrison espied a cloud of dust in the far distance behind Yorik. It was too far to confirm whether it was more soldiers rushing to attack, but they had to be ready. “Be ready,” he nodded toward the riders. “I cannot tell whether they are our friends or foes, but I doubt it will take long to know for sure.”

Garrison and the two Taurani turned to face the riders. As the company drew closer, Garrison counted only four soldiers on horseback. He instantly recognized Kale, towering above the rest. Four riders meant one had been killed, but Garrison could not determine who was missing from so far away. One was even helmetless, but still too far away to recognize.

“One of your friends is missing, boy,” Marika pointed out. “The quiet one who hardly speaks.”

As the four rode closer, Marika’s observation was confirmed. Clay was the one missing. In a few more moments, the four had reached them at the riverbank. Kale spoke first, “We thought you would be further ahead by now, given how much time you had.”

Garrison smirked. “The forest extended for longer than we anticipated. We thought it best to keep the cover of trees as long as possible. What happened to Clay?”

“Sword through the neck. There was no saving him. The soldiers were wary of us from the start. Always keeping their eyes on us. They all stood up when they saw us coming, even after we were clearly visible. Aron made up some story about us being the survivors of a battalion that fought you in the forest, but like I said, they were suspicious the whole time. Tense, hands on their weapons. I suspected they might even attack first, so I gave the others a look and we initiated. Three advanced on Clay; he never really had a chance. The rest of us took some minor injuries, but nothing that will slow us down. As you can see, Aron’s helmet got bashed in pretty well. He tossed it as we rode and I yelled at the fool for not doing so while he could have stolen another helmet.”

Aron quipped, “Do not worry Kale, if I die…”

Ronan continued, “…he will not blame you. Neither will I.”

Kale rolled his eyes. “I have often wondered. I rarely hear the two of you talk to each other. How can you even have a conversation if you finish each other’s sentences? It would be like one person talking.”