The Sorcerer's Vengeance: Book 4 of the Sorcerer's Path (38 page)

Kayne’s cavalry raked the massed ranks of soldiers with arrows as they crossed. The archers knelt and presented their backs, which sported large, thick shields strapped around their shoulders. The footmen knelt and raised their own shields while the pikemen and halberdiers could only kneel and weather the deadly volley.

Firing from galloping horseback and hitting anything other than the ground is as much luck as skill and it lacked the concentrated volley of the longbowmen, but the sheer number of arrows and the soldiers own tightly packed ranks enabled Kayne’s men to inflict  far greater damage than they had received.

Men cried out in pain as the steel-tipped shafts penetrated armor and flesh. Arrows protruded from dozens of the massed soldiers’ bodies, killing many instantly and sending even more writhing on the ground in agony. Captain Cooper’s men endured two more such exchanges before he decided that he could not afford to continue sustaining such losses.

On the fourth cavalry charge, the captain ordered his pikemen and halberdiers forward at a run the moment the archers loosed their volley. Cooper’s archers scored more hits now that they adjusted for the marauder’s tactics, but the footmen and cavalry needed to engage them if the battle was to be won by any decent margin.

The archers turned and knelt as the infantrymen charged forward, shouting their loud battle cries. The approaching horsemen released their own final volley before shouldering their bows, drawing their swords, and slipping on their small shields.

As the thundering riders drew near, the pikemen set their long spears to receive the charge, but at the last moment, Kayne’s men pulled up short before throwing themselves and their mounts onto the steel-headed shafts. They darted in and took wild swings at the front ranks of pikemen before turning and darting away again.

Captain Cooper used his cavalry to circle around the flanks of the enemy in an attempt to pin them between him and his infantry. So intent on their mission, few of them spotted the hundreds of men quietly swarming over the low foothills and breaking from the cover of trees until Kayne’s longbowmen began raining down destruction into his northernmost flanking cavalry.

By the time the king’s men realized that they themselves were being flanked by a huge host of infantry and archers they barely had enough time to turn and set for the charge. Having been spotted, the charging horde of footmen dropped their attempt at stealth, shouted their challenge, and bashed their shields with their weapons, creating an awful din as they raced forward into battle.

The two groups clashed with the sound of an avalanche. Swords cleaved limbs from bodies while spears pierced vital organs and sent men’s lifeblood pouring out onto the battlefield. Ten minutes later, Kayne’s southern forces slammed into the rear of Captain Cooper’s ranks, taking them completely by surprise.

Atop the high stone walls of Lyonsgate, the men who had only a short time before been cheering loudly at the appearance of Captain Cooper’s army looked on in horror as a swarm of enemy enveloped their rescuers.

“By the gods,” the commander of the city’s defenses swore as he watched the horrific scene unfold. “If those men are defeated there is nothing we can do to keep them from laying siege to the city. Order the men to prepare to meet the enemy. On my order, throw open the gates, but keep a heavy repelling party ready to cover our retreat.”

Commander Aaronson took the wooden stairs down to the courtyard two at a time and mounted his waiting steed. He would ride at the head of his own paltry cavalry, just shy of a hundred horses, and a third of the men were militia, not regular army.

With another two hundred men afoot, Commander Aaronson ordered the gates open and the portcullis raised and held. He and his men set forth, pushed by the cheers of the men still manning the walls though every man with a view could see that the Valarians were still outnumbered nearly two to one.

Commander Aaronson did not wait for his slower-moving infantry. He and his cobbled together cavalry lowered their lances and charged into the southern flank the enemy cavalry. Lances snapped and were dropped as they punched through steel armor and the flesh of men and horses. Commander Aaronson began shouting for the king’s men to retreat to the city as he waved his longsword over his head and hewed off the left hand of a halberdier that stabbed at him from the ground.

The decimated forces under Captain Cooper took up the call to retreat, and rallied by the sudden support, began a fighting withdrawal towards the gates of the city. Commander Aaronson’s infantry reached the melee and drove a wedge between Kayne’s northern cavalry and Cooper’s soldiers to give them an avenue of escape.

Lyonsgate’s cavalry and the remaining horsemen under Captain Cooper formed a thin wall between the Hell’s Legion mercenaries and their own routed infantry. The mounted soldiers fought furiously and inflicted grievous damage to the ranks of marauders, but their numbers were far too few and their enemy far too numerous to do anything except buy the men a few more seconds to reach the dubious safety of the gates.

As the invaders pressed the soldiers back towards the city, they came within range of the archers atop the wall. Arrows began falling dangerously close to the pummeled cavalry but managed to strike almost entirely within the enemy ranks, giving the few remaining cavalrymen a chance to turn and run for the gate themselves.

Ragged volleys of arrows from Kayne’s archers chased after the fleeing men but most fell short. Kayne ordered his men to stay clear of the town’s arrow fire and retreated to a safe distance as the gates slammed behind the last of the soldiers to enter the city.

Inside the walls of Lyonsgate, the mood was a mixed affair. Only thirty-two of the ninety-four horses under Commander Aaronson returned to the city and he was not amongst their numbers. Many families would also be mourning the one-hundred and six footmen that followed him to the grave. While the survivors of Captain Cooper’s army found joy at their rescue, only two hundred and fifty-four out of the nearly one thousand made it to the relative safety of the city, and their commander had also given his life to give his men a chance to escape.

Lyonsgate welcomed the surviving king’s men but now faced the daunting prospect of repelling a siege. Fear of such a prospect turned to confusion as the defenders watched the invaders march off towards the south and disappear into the distant low, rolling hills. Five days passed before the city began to think that the marauders were not returning and began to relax but the confusion remained. Why did they attack if they had no plans to besiege the city? No one in the city was likely to get an answer anytime soon, probably never.

Kayne led his victorious forces south until they met up with the support personnel and the rear detachment. It was not the total victory he had hoped and planned for. He had hoped to crush them utterly but had not counted on the men from the city to face almost certain death to attempt to rescue their rescuers much less fight with such fury and tenacity. Kayne accepted the fact that he had broken the back of a large portion of King Jarvin’s military might and counted it as a decent victory despite the more than two hundred men he lost.

Kayne’s forces marched westward and then northward where Duke Ulric planned to load his men onto waiting ships for the voyage north. Only the infantry would be sailing by ship. The beach where they would be picked up would not allow the big war galleys to land near enough to get the horses on board even if there was enough ships and space available, which there was not.

Several days of marching brought them to the deserted stretch of coast where the mercenaries could see the tall-masted ships already waiting for them. Longboats were launched almost immediately upon Kayne’s arrival to begin ferrying his men to the awaiting vessels.

The plan was for his men to be taken by ship where they would be unloaded maybe two days march from North Haven onto one of the few stretches of coastline that was not too rugged to do so. Kayne would lead his cavalry northward, avoiding towns and people as much as possible, but it was not so vital that his presence remain a secret at this point. His support elements would follow by caravan at their best speed. They would take at least a week longer to reach North Haven, but they would not be needed before then. With luck, he will have secured the city by the time they arrived.

Duke Ulric would supplement his forces with over a thousand men of his own who would then slip away once they took the city to rejoin the duke’s main force so that they could “liberate” the North Haven. It is unfortunate that the frigid duchess would be dead by then, but he would be just in time to rescue her daughter who would join their two cities by marriage. If not, she would suffer the same fate as her mother and Ulric would simply annex the city.

As much as Kayne despised over-complicated plans and politics, he had to respect the way the duke had it all worked out. As the hero who saved Brightridge, Groveswood, and soon North Haven, as well as routing the marauders once and for, his bid for the crown was almost guaranteed to be successful.

CHAPTER 19

Hati stood upon the crenellated roof of the tower alternating her gaze between the grey clouds above just being lit by the rising sun, and the hard ground more than sixty feet below. It was early and the sun was peaking above the distant horizon just barely visible to her keen eyes through the thick but wispy cloud cover.

She took a deep breath to calm her nerves and took several steps away from the precipitous drop. Hati looked down at the tar-coated wood beneath her feet then spun around, sprinted for the edge of the tower, and launched herself with a powerful kick off the low ledge between the crenellations.

Her powerful muscles propelled her several feet above the top of the gap-toothed-looking crenellations before gravity reasserted itself and tried to drag her back down to the ground—tried and failed. With just a twitch of inhumanly strong back and chest muscles, her fourteen-foot wings spread out, instantly arresting her fall. She glided a score of yards in seconds before she put her powerful chest muscles to work, pumping her mottled brown and red-tipped wings up and down, carrying her higher and higher into the damp morning sky.

Hati’s initial fear was almost instantly replaced by a sense of overwhelming joy and an exhilaration she had never before felt. She stared down at the dark green canopy of the evergreen trees falling away and racing past far beneath her as she continued to rocket up and away into the sky.

The shame she had felt for her forced deformity turned into pity for everyone who could never know this kind of freedom. Flying was life to her, as important as eating or breathing. Within the first few minutes of her first true flight she could not imagine ever living without it and it made her weep with joy.

She looked down and saw a small figure racing along a large open glade below her. Hati had no problem identifying each feature on the young boy that clung to the back of the solid black horse that galloped across the meadow below. She pulled in her beautiful wings and went into a steep dive, reaching a speed that not even that sleek and powerful midnight horse could hope to match.

Peck was riding bareback as he often did, perched upon the back of his favorite, and by far fastest, horse Azerick owned. Only his hands and bare feet touched Newmoon’s broad back as he raced across the meadow, whooping and recklessly waving into the air as Hati dove towards him at a fantastic speed.

Hati let out her own shriek of joy, sounding as much like a human as she did a dire hawk as she spread her beautiful wings and leveled out a hundred feet above Peck. She marveled at the boy’s ability to ride as he clung to the horse’s back with such apparent ease. Another twitch of her wings sent her soaring back upwards until the misty clouds were just above her and the edge of the world appeared to lie just past the horizon only an hour’s flight away.

She did not know where she was going nor did she know when she would return, only that she had to follow the urge that drove her into the skies. Hati was certain she would come back one day. She was grateful to the old wizard for removing the mark that had enslaved her and Colleen’s instant friendship. They were the only people that had ever seemed to accept her without question or reservation despite her appearance. Not even in her own village had she been so welcomed, and she did not even have wings then!

Yes, she would return one day, but for now she had to fly, had to hunt. She had a few things in a pack strapped tightly to her stomach but most of her food she would have to find herself. Her blood ran unnaturally hot. Even at this high altitude where the air was thin and near or even beyond freezing, she was warm in her simple, tight fitting clothing. Colleen had cut a large slit down the back of the leather jacket she wore. Laces allowed her to tie the top of the collar around her neck and a long belt kept the bottom tightly secured around her trim waist.

Hati had heard the nervousness around the keep as word of a possible invasion of some sort spread. She felt guilty for leaving them at what seemed a dark hour after all they had done for her, but she was not a warrior though she could wield the short blade at her hip well when needed. The urge to fly was simply too great and could not be ignored. Hati was certain that they would all understand and not begrudge her. She prayed that they would stay safe as she flew off in search of whatever it was her heart seemed desperate to find.

***

Jansen stood alone atop the wall. He had sent the young men that were also assigned to this shift’s guard duty to the kitchens to get something warm to drink and to break their fast a little early. He watched Hati sail over the treetops until she disappeared into the distance, marveling at her grace and beauty.

The young woman’s beauty took him by surprise when Zeb first brought her into the keep, but that changed to something like awe when the old sailor pulled the blanket off her and he saw her amazing wings. She looked to him like a goddess of legend. But he would never allow his face to betray an emotion like surprise or amazement or even the desire that welled up in him when he first beheld her in all her unique splendor.