The Chronicles of Lumineia: Book 02 - The Gathering (14 page)

“Do you think
I can perform such a role?” Newhawk asked, looking away as he rubbed his
fingers into his palms.

“Your humility
is the most vital thing I required in a second,” Braon responded. “If you
lacked that, you would simply take command and—according to the Oracle—doom us
all.”

Newhawk took a
deep breath and nodded. “I accept your appointment, now what do we do?”

 “First let me
catch you up on several things. Follow me.”

Standing, the
young commander moved into the large empty room that had been the dining hall.
“This used to be the grand dining hall of the house of Runya. As you can see,
the walls and ceiling have been enchanted with a view from the top of the great
tree. The view will give us an excellent vantage point during the battle. It is
for that reason that I have chosen it to be our strategic command center. All
the tree tables and chairs have been uprooted and moved elsewhere to give us space.”

“Space for
what?” Newhawk asked.

“The elven
magic guild is developing a map that will allow us to see the battlefield as a
whole,” Braon answered. “I am told it will stretch across most of the room.
Hopefully it will be detailed enough for us to see anything that is happening
at any one time. My role will be to remain here, watching the battle, and
directing defensive strategies. You will only need to be here when I am forced
to rest. Most of the time I will need you out there, wherever the fighting is
thickest, to bolster our army to push the enemy back.”

 “How are we
forming the defenses?” Newhawk asked, his eyes peering at the enchanted walls.

“If every race
comes, we will have sufficient manpower to defend the entire length of the cliff,
as well as the city and the Lake Road. I have broken the defense into seven battalions.”
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a sketched map of the cliff and city, with
the mountains to the west, and the lake to the east. Pointing at each spot in
turn he said, “Starting at the western range of mountains, The Gray has gray
colored cliffs, The Deep has a large dip in the cliff that will be harder to
defend, The Western Falls is the area adjacent to the city. Azertorn will be
the fourth battalion and the center point. Then we have Eastern Falls running
from the city to a crack in the cliff a few miles out.”

“—I saw the break
when I flew in,” Newhawk interrupted.

 “Excellent. East
of the crack is the The Ridge, and the last command will be the Lake Road.
Seven areas, meaning we need seven battalions and generals.”

Newhawk was bobbing
his head, his expression thoughtful. “Do we have any of the generals for them
yet?”

 “We have one,
Deiran, the commander of the elven armies. He will lead the defense of
Azertorn.”

Newhawk smiled
and agreed. “He will know the city defenses best. It is a wise choice. What is
your defensive strategy along the cliff and the road?”

“A wall is
already being constructed. I also hope that the dwarves will be able to build a
few defensive siege engines that I have in mind. The goal will be to keep them
from gaining ground on the top of the cliff." He pointed to the map and
sighed. "Our weakest point is the Lake Road, which is a highway to
surround us. It is not nearly as defensible as Azertorn, and had no
fortifications as of a few days ago.”

Newhawk shook
his head, “Wait, shouldn’t the city be the weakest? I saw the doors at the end
of the bridge. They will try to break through them first.”

Braon smirked,
“I will show you the real entrance later, for now, just know that those doors
are backed by a stone column, and will never be broken down.” He grimaced and
his expression turned serious. “What is more likely is that they will find the
secret entrances. If that happens . . . it will only be a matter of time. The
Oracle said the best we can hope to survive is seven days. I believe that if
the gates to Azertorn are breached, the city will be lost in a few hours. We
cannot allow them to break through before the seventh day.”

“Agreed,”
Newhawk said, and then cocked his head to the side. “What about the women and
children?”

Braon nodded
and pointed to the back of the crude map. “Most of the women and older children
will be placed behind the lines, tending wounds, providing meals, and even
fighting if they are skilled. As few as possible will take care of the babes
and small children in the caves behind Azertorn, the most secure place
possible.”

Newhawk
grinned, “You have all this planned out, don’t you?”

“Not completely,”
Braon admitted. “But most of it. We still have holes in communication, as well
as how to incorporate each race or nation as they arrive. Some of those
challenges will have to be tackled as they occur, but communication remains our
greatest challenge. We need a means to send messages back and forth across a
twenty mile stretch—during the heat of battle.”

Newhawk
reached up and scratched his head. “I don’t see a solution to that problem, but
I think I can help with adding the troops as they come. If you tell me where
you want them, I will make it happen.”

Relief colored
Braon's tone, despite his effort to quell it. “Excellent. Many humans from the
eastern kingdom have already been driven out and have been arriving over the
past few days. They need to be formed into commands. I want you to break them
into groups they trust and begin setting up camps in all six locations—but
place the bulk of them at Eastern Falls. Start with The Deep, and the Lake Road.
Those need the most work. Also assign a sergeant for every hundred men or so.
If they already have a leader, then put him in charge—but don’t stick to the
exact number. With our short time frame we need to use any existing command
structure, not force one of our own. If you want to keep a large group
together, place a lieutenant over five hundred men, and a captain over two
thousand. Oh, and keep an eye out for anyone you think can be a colonel or a
general.”

Newhawk was
grinning and when Braon stopped he asked, “Anything else?”

Braon flashed
a wry grin. “Of course, but you can get started on that for now.”

The doors to
the command center opened and an elven guard entered the room. Standing at
attention, he said, “The druid caravan has arrived and Keiko requests
instruction on where to place them.”

Newhawk
sighed. “That’s my cue.” Stepping towards the guard he stopped when Braon
called out to address the guard.

“Rokei, spread
the word through the command that Newhawk is now a second high commander.” Then
Braon inclined his head to his newly appointed second. “Good luck to you,
Newhawk. Rokei will see to it that you have everything you need, but return
tonight so we can discuss things in greater detail.”

Newhawk bowed.
“Commander Braon. Good luck to us all.”

As the druid
commander followed Rokei out, Braon looked at the enchanted ceiling above him
and took a moment to watch the clouds drift past the city. When the phoenix
flew overhead and cast a brief shadow over the room, he felt a rush of
confidence. He’d found a crucial piece that he needed. There was still a long
way to go, but at least now the actual joining of the races would go smoother.
Sparing one more glance skyward he sighed and left to check on his other
projects.

Things are
finally moving
, he thought as he left his empty command center.
But are
they moving fast enough?

Chapter 11: Everyone Has a Purpose

Braon sank
into a chair for dinner at the house of Runya, pleased and frustrated at the
same time. Lost in thought, he began eating the soup that was served him.
Newhawk was a godsend, and under his leadership every person that had previously
arrived had been organized. His natural leadership drew people to him as if by
magic, and the human people of the eastern kingdom already loved him. Fading
into the background, Braon pulled strings and maneuvered his forces into place.

Most things
had come together well except for two: the magical map still hadn’t been created,
although the roots from the recipient plants were growing well; and the means
of communication still eluded him. Every possible method had been discussed and
deliberated, but no good solution had presented itself. Braon frowned. He hated
to choose between bad options. He glanced skyward at the stone ceiling of the
temporary dining hall. If only Ero would provide a way—

“Are you going
to eat your soup, or just look at the ceiling?” a child’s voice said, and Braon
turned to look at him.

A small brown-haired
boy straddled the bench beside him and met his gaze without flinching. Probably
one of the refugees that had temporarily been housed in the House of Runya, he
was one of many that had arrived before a place could be prepared for them. His
clothes looked to be a size too big, so he would have at least one older brother.
Hand stitched, they showed the care of a mother. Glancing down, he saw a stain
on the side of his tunic. The boy of a fisherman then, well practiced in
gutting fish and wiping his hand on the side of his tunic—a fact his mother
probably didn’t appreciate.

Braon smiled
at the bold youth. “I was just thinking. What about you?”

The boy
grinned, a lighthearted expression that accompanied a mischievous glint. “
I
already ate my dinner, faster than anyone in my family.” His pride at the feat
made Braon laugh.

“What’s your
name, and where are you from?”

“I’m Daq,” he
said, poking a thumb into his chest. “And I’m from a village south of Keese.”

“Where is your
fisherman father? Or your mother?” Braon asked, surprised that someone from the
southern kingdom had already come.

Daq’s eyes
saddened and he said, “My mother’s dead. Some pirates came and hurt her before
they took my family.”

Braon’s heart turned
into a knot, but the distortion in his voice seemed out of place. For some
reason, Daq thought it was
his
fault that it had happened.

“It’s not your
fault, Daq,” Braon said. “Sometimes bad things happen to good people.”

Daq shook his
head. “Uh-uh, the pirates came because I told someone about—” He stopped and slapped
a hand to his mouth. Through his hands, he said, “I’m not supposed to talk
about that.”

“It’s OK.”
Braon said, sensing he needed to talk but wouldn’t on his own. “I lost my family,
too, in the eastern kingdom. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
Turning back towards his cooling soup, he waited for the boy to respond.

For a moment
Daq kept his hands over his mouth, then they dropped and he blurted, “I told
someone about our mind link.”

Braon froze,
his mind spinning for a moment before the pieces came together. Trin had
mentioned they’d rescued a family from pirates, a family that was special but
he didn’t say why. Later he’d also heard a comment from one of the sailors of
the Sea Dancer about pirates being unified under one leader. Then the captain
had said how sad he was they’d used an innocent family to do their dirty work.

A
telepathic family
?

Hiding his
excitement with difficulty, Braon turned to the young boy and placed a hand on
his shoulder. “It will be our secret, Daq.” Then he steered the topic to other
things and waited for him to be called by his father.

Just as Braon
was finishing his soup, someone called out, “Daq, we need to get back.” Braon caught
the suspicion in his tone that referred to him, but Daq didn’t seem to notice
it.

“Can I talk to
my new friend a little longer?
Please
?” Daq pleaded, but the man shook
his head.

“Come along
now,” he said and Daq, pouting, stood and said goodbye before he plodded
towards his father, who cast Braon a wary glance before turning down a hall. As
soon as he was out of sight, Braon leapt to his feet and raced to Rokei.

“Follow the
boy I was talking to—and his father. Find out which rooms they are staying in and
then bring the father to me. I will meet you in the old hall.

Rokei nodded
and slipped from the room. Braon felt a chill go down his spine as he turned
towards his command center.
This is exactly what I needed,
he thought,
but
I must tread carefully
. Arriving in a rush, he fidgeted with his maps and
waited for the father to be brought to him.

A few minutes
later, Rokei appeared holding the arm of a very frustrated man. Braon nodded
and the guard ushered him into the room and closed the door behind them. Rokei
remained at the man's side.

“What is the
meaning of this?” the man blustered.

“I know you
are worried about what your son might have said to me,” Braon said, cutting
through the man’s frustration and going right for the heart of his worry. For a
moment, true fear swept across his face before he controlled his emotions.

“Who are you
and what do you want?” the man asked, his voice like granite.

 “I admit that
I know your secret, and about your servitude among the pirates.”

The man’s eyes
went wide and he stuttered, “How do you . . .”

“Relax,” Braon
said with what he hoped was a disarming smile. “I will not force you to do
anything, and after you have heard what I have to say, you will be free to go. No
word about your family’s abilities will escape my lips, and you may forget you
ever spoke to me.”

Braon’s honest
tone seemed to pierce the man’s mounting tension, and he asked, “Who
are
you?”

“My name is
Braon, and I was placed in charge of the defenses by the Oracle.”

“—but I
thought that Newhawk—”

“Is the
commander to everyone else, but he answers to me.”

The man shook
his head and snorted. Then he threw a look at Rokei. “Is he serious?”