The Black Sword Trilogy: The Four Nations (19 page)

             
“One of these nights, you really should get a good night’s sleep, sir.”

             
“I don’t know if I’m even capable of sleeping at night anymore.  I may be turning into a vampire.”

             
“I hope not, sir.  I doubt even the Black Sword could pierce that heart of yours.”

They both laughed.  And then Krypt looked t
o the west.

             
“You know he’s out there somewhere.” Krypt said.

             
“Who, sir?”

             
“Kenner.”

             
“Do you think Terri found him?”

             
“I’m sure of it.”

             
“Do you think he’ll join us?  He seemed pretty intent on never coming back.”

             
“You wouldn’t want to come back either if the King had banished you after saving his Kingdom.”

             
Valon took another thoughtful sip of coffee and examined the General’s face.  He saw that Krypt was looking toward the hills as if hoping for something.

             
“Were you there, sir?” Valon asked him.

             
“Where?”

             
“At the Battle of Mobrey?”

             
“Oh yes, I was there.”

             
“What was he like?”

For the first time in a long time, Valon saw a smile creep across the General’s face.

              “It was the most amazing thing I’d ever seen.” Krypt told him.  “One minute, he looked like a boy about to piss himself; the next, he was a General, leading his troops down the hill into the thick of battle.”

             
“It was like something out one of those stories we heard when we were children.  He charged down the hill on the back of that incredible beast like a legend.  I think he must have killed a hundred Wolfen on his own; and that was before his cat was wounded.  He dismounted and with every swing of that sword of his, another Wolfen died; sometimes two or three at a time.  And then,” Krypt said, getting more excited, “when he faced the enemy General, he moved so fast, one could hardly see him.  I knew Grail.  Even without the Silver Axe, he was as fine a warrior as any ever seen.  Everyone around, even the Wolfen were so astounded by what they saw, they stopped fighting and just watched the two of them.  Grail hit Kenner square in the chest with the Axe and sent him flying twenty feet and into the dirt.  Then Kenner took the Axe from him and slammed it into the ground.  The ground shook and roared like thunder.  Grail fell into a crack in the ground and then the Wolfen and their human traitor officers went running like children.”

             
“If anyone else were telling that story, I’d say they were lying.” Valon said grinning.

             
“I wouldn’t believe it myself if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”

             
Krypt then caught sight of something that nearly startled him.  When he jumped to his feet, Valon was so alarmed, he drew his sword.

             
“What is it sir?”

Krypt pointed to the rise just now being illuminated by growing
sunlight.  Valon looked and could just barely see several riders, perhaps twenty standing on the top of the rise a mile from the camp.

             
“Riders from Kallesh, you think?” Valon asked.

             
“No,” Krypt said curiously.  “There’s no one carrying Walechian banners.  And the King would never send that many riders to deliver a message.”

             
“Perhaps assassins, then?”

             
“Why would they be standing where they could be so easily seen?”

             
“They must be scouts, then.”

             
They then heard a horse coming up the rise from the camp.  A single cavalry rider was approaching.

             
“What is it?” Valon called out to the rider.

He rode up to the General.

              “An army of Wolfen moving toward us from the north.” The rider said quickly.

             
“Of course it is.” Krypt said sounding angry.  “How many?”

             
“Lookouts say about five hundred.”

             
“You mean five thousand.” Valon told the rider.

             
“No sir.  Five hundred.”

             
“That’s an awfully small force.” Valon said to Krypt.

             
“It’s still a Wolfen army.” Krypt said while mounting his horse.  “Get the men ready.”

             
In a whirlwind of activity, the soldiers of the Grand Army were made ready for the battle.  Most had already been awakened and dressed, needing only to arm themselves and form into their units for the battle.  The Cavalry formed in a long line on top of the rise with the archers behind.  They would be shooting blind, but as General Krypt discovered, the rise would provide cover for the infantry as it would hide their exact numbers.

             
When he joined the cavalry to lead the assault, Krypt was surprised at the Wolfen army’s apparent tactic.  Wolfen armies usually used speed and as much surprise as possible.  They usually charged down hills or from woods or thickets.  This force approaching him was slower, almost leisurely.  It would have been more typical for the Wolfen to have already attacked, given the time from their discovery to the army’s formation.  But instead their slower pace had given the troops plenty of time to prepare.  The element of surprise was long gone and now the initiative was clearly on the Walechian Army’s side.

             
“Does this seem strange to you?” Krypt asked Valon.

             
“Perhaps they’re sick or wounded, sir.”

             
The Wolfen force then did something else that Krypt didn’t expect.  Normally, they formed into tight packs of ten to fifteen before charging.  However, this time, they stretched out across the plain into a single long line.  Krypt also noticed that, instead of dozens of human officers leading them or driving them on, there was only one officer at the far left of the single line.  He had to think quickly.  His normal strategy would have been to charge the cavalry around the Wolfen packs and encircle them, but he could see that this wouldn’t work.

             
“Sir!” Valon said excitedly.  “All we need do is charge the cavalry straight down the hill and through the center of their line…”

             
“No!” Krypt interrupted him.  “I have a feeling that’s what they want us to do.”

             
The Wolfen force came within a mile of the Walechian Army when Krypt decided on a strategy.

             
“Send word down the line to follow me in a straight line along the length of their formation.” He told Valon.  Major Vick!” He shouted to another officer.  “Send word to General Corol of the infantry to form the troops into the ‘boxes’!”

             
“Yes sir!” The soldier answered and rode back to the encampment.  Upon receiving his orders, General Corol had his troops form into tight squares of twenty men.  These squares were then formed into a larger square with the different ‘boxes’ of soldiers aligned to face in four different directions.  The soldiers were well trained in this tactic and were formed quickly.

             
General Krypt rode to the far end of the cavalry formation.  He drew his sword and then led the horsemen charging down at the Wolfen line.  He expected them to form back into their packs so that he could surround them.  Instead they all holstered their weapons on their backs, turned and, still formed in a straight line, go to all fours and run as fast as possible.  When running that way, they could be almost as fast as a horse, but weren’t as effective in a fight.  Krypt urged his own horse on faster in an attempt to outflank the Wolfen, but they surprised him again.  Instead of turning up the hill toward the human army, they turned away and began to circle around.

             
“They’re trying to outflank us, sir!” Valon called out.

Krypt turned and led the cavalry to his left, anticipating the Wolfen to continue their wide circle to the rear.  The cavalry would meet them head on when their circle was complete.  His view of the Wolfen force was blocked by the cavalry turning
around with him.  But when he finally could see, he saw one last surprise.  The Wolfen army had completely stopped and was now charging at the middle of his cavalry line.

             
This seemed almost suicidal to Krypt as he knew his cavalry alone outnumbered the Wolfen force three to one.  But the Wolfen force had smashed against the cavalry behind him and then, but for a dozen horsemen with him, he was cut off from the rest of the cavalry.

             
Suddenly, Krypt saw the Wolfen turn again.  This time, two hundred of them formed into their familiar packs and charged the isolated Krypt and the few men around him.  These now leapt to their feet, drew their weapons and mercilessly attacked the few troops around Krypt and Valon.  In what seemed only an instant, the dozen or so troops were dead; their horses were either fallen with them or running from the scene.  Krypt turned to ride away and hopefully rejoin the cavalry, but the Wolfen had surrounded him.  His horse was pulled to the ground and he was thrown.  He scrambled to his feet and slashed and swiped with his sword.  Three or four of the beasts fell, but soon they were overwhelming him.  They were all around him, biting and clawing at his armor and pulling him down.  He tried to remain standing but his feet gave way.  He felt his helmet being pulled at and then his sword was wrenched from his hands.  As he knew death was near, he screamed.  Teeth and claws bit and tore into his flesh; but then he heard a sound as if a strong wind had suddenly come over him.  Then came a sound like thunder followed by the ground shaking violently.  He heard the Wolfen screamed in terror and he heard them run away.

             
As suddenly as the noise and shaking had come, it stopped just as quickly.  Krypt found himself panting like an animal and he hurt all over.  Finally, he allowed himself to open his eyes.  He was alive.  His armor was dented and torn and he was bleeding all over from bites and scratches.  Two boots appeared before his eyes.  He followed the boots up to a familiar form and face.

             
“Get your ass up off the ground, General!”

Chapter Twenty Four

             
After a full day of activity and a full bottle of wine, Terri was tired and needing sleep.  The bed had already been turned down and she climbed into it and in between sheets made of the same silk she was wearing.  The bed was more than just soft and comfortable.  It seemed to conform to every curve of her body and hold her gently.  She found herself drifting off to sleep before she had even a chance to turn and blow out the oil lamp beside her.

             
She was almost asleep when she heard a knock at the door that startled her.  Slightly drunk and paranoid, she almost leapt out of the sheets and instinctively reached for the Bow.  She quickly, however regained her senses and remembered that she was in a quiet room and in a safe place.

             
“Who is it?” She called toward the door.

             
“It’s Firth, Miss!” He called from the other side.  “I’ll be in the next room if you need anything.”

             
“Good to know!” She called back and then let herself sink back into the bed.

             
She had forgotten to blow out the lamp, but it didn’t matter.  The soft glow slowly danced off of the roof of the bed and it was somehow calming at first.  As she dozed, however she began to see images in the flickering light.  At first, they were merely shapes and silhouettes, but they soon turned to faces and images.  They were people she knew at the time and people long gone from her life.  Suddenly she saw the images of soldiers on a battle field and of Wolfen and Silther.  She heard cries and screams, softly at first but steadily growing louder.  Then a single word began softly echoing in her ears.  “Murderer…murderer.”  She saw a shadow of person coming toward her and had an image of an arrow flying from her bow.

             
She woke up gasping as if about to scream, but stopped herself.  She breathed heavily and her first thought was to look for a flagon of ale she usually kept next to her bunk or wherever she slept.  It wasn’t there.  The room was unfamiliar at first and frightening, but just as every time before, she quickly regained her self-control.  She quickly remembered she was in a bed in a room in the palace of Sheyron.  Still breathing heavily, she remembered that she was safe.

             
She got out of bed and looked for the bottle of wine on the balcony.  There were only a few drops remaining, but she emptied the bottle into her mouth.  She closed her eyes to satisfy herself that the images were gone and then looked over the courtyard below her.

             
It was peaceful and calm, looking never changing and static.  She imagined that this was the same garden for hundreds of years and had never altered.  Perhaps even the perfectly kept grass had never grown or died.  The water in the pool rippled with a quiet breeze, but the fountain had ceased pouring its water.  It was silent and asleep as seemed the entire palace.  There were a few lights from perfectly placed lamps, but all the windows were dark.  In its own way it was beautiful, but Terri found herself unsatisfied by it.  She was awake and restless, having now no desire to sleep.  There were too many enemies in her dreams, she thought.  Rather than fight them, it was time to retreat to a safer place.

             
Still wearing the thin, silk dress and robe, she grabbed the Bow, slung it over her shoulders and marched into Firth’s room.  He awoke with a start, looking confused and scared.

             
“Let’s go.” She told him.

             
“Go, Miss?”

             
“Get your clothes on, we’re going into town.”

             
She’d been to Korsh before.  Once she had visited as a little girl with her parents, brothers and sisters and been amazed by the sights and sounds of a city larger than the entire world she knew.  She’d visited again while on her thirty days leave and gotten to know a lively city of music, dance, fine food, ever finer drink and people who seemed to want to do nothing but celebrate.  It was this she wanted to see now; not the dead palace of statues and painting of people long gone.  She’d had enough of death.  She wanted to be with people who were alive.

             
She was walking so fast through the corridors and hallways of the palace, she barely noticed Firth nearly running to keep up with her.  At one point, they passed a guard on watch and Firth asked him what time it was.

             
“Eleven bells, my lord.” He flatly answered.

             
“Don’t you think it’s a bit late for an excursion?” Firth asked her.

             
“Nope.  The night’s only beginning.”

             
Firth directed her to a dock with several small boats.

             
“Ferry to the city!” the men and women from the boats were calling.

             
“You got money?” She asked Firth.

             
“I have a little bit, yes.”

             
“Well, I hope you’ve got enough to keep me drinking; otherwise you’re going to have one very irritable archer on your hands.”

             
“Yes, Miss.”

             
“And stop calling me ‘Miss’.  I never miss.”

             
It took nearly an hour for the ferry to cover the five miles across the bay to the mainland.  While crossing the bay, Terri saw the lamps from dozens of other ferries, boats and ships looking almost like stars on the water.  The sailors called to each other, “Fifty feet!” and other numbers referring to their distance from each other as warnings.  The ferryman told Terri that twenty feet was a safe distance, ten feet too close and closer than that would start a fight.  They also talked to each other, exchanging greetings, dirty jokes and the news of the day.

             
“Your mother still lets you take the boat at night?” One ferryman called to Terry’s

             
“Only while my father’s in bed with yours!”

             
“Tell your mother I’ve got the money I owe her from last time!” Another called.

             
“You can’t afford my mother!”

             
“Much better,” Terri said to herself.

             
The city was so bright from lamps and torches; it looked almost as if it were on fire.  Music sounding as if coming from the entire city began to grow louder as the ferry approached the brightly lit dock and thousands of voices shouting, laughing and happily crying out grew closer.  The houses and buildings were brightly painted and almost all looked new as if just built.  Leading away from the dock, Terri saw a single, wide street leading away from the dock with hundreds of people strolling along, some arm-in-arm or hand-in-hand.  They were all talking loudly and laughing.  She saw a fight break out among several young men, but it quickly broke up.  A jug of ale flew out of a first story window; quickly followed by a half-dressed man.  The rest of his clothes quickly followed and then a large, buxom woman leaned out and screamed, “Bastard!”