Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3 (40 page)

Rogan saluted. “The letters m’lord?”

“Get your gear ready then come back to me. My mother will want to send one as well.”

“Yes lord,” Rogan said and hurried away.

Turning to his captains, Donalt gave his orders. “Choose out five hundred men. Make them the best we have with the bow. Issue three dozen arrows each and the fastest horses we have left… food and water for two days but no more. We need to be fast.”

His captains were starting to understand. They growled their assent, and for the first time they looked less bleak. They rushed out leaving Donalt to study his map. He traced the road toward the pass and tapped a finger on the old bridge frowning in thought. He followed the road further into Anselm Forest and smiled grimly pleased at the idea forming in his head. They would pay, oh how they would pay.

Just candlemarks later, Donalt rode to meet the enemy, at the head of a column five hundred strong. This time it would be the Tanjuners who would die. There were numerous places he could use as a strong point, but none that could be held against two thousand regulars for long. Fortunately he didn’t plan to hold anything—he just wanted to kill his brother’s murderers. Almost a day out from the fortress they came to the edge of Anselm forest. He stopped and disbursed his men. The trees were large and provided excellent cover. The drawback was that cavalry couldn’t operate well here. That was to his advantage. The Tanjuners wouldn’t be able to charge his position, but it was also to his disadvantage in that his men had to fight on foot. He had weighed this decision carefully before choosing this place for the ambush. Normally a man on foot had little chance against a mounted opponent, but among the trees things were more evenly matched. It was their best chance of killing a lot of men quickly.

Donalt ordered his men to wait until the enemy was close before firing. They were to use half their arrows at most before fading back to retrieve their mounts. He was hoping to make at least two more hit and run raids on the enemy before retiring to the fortress and hunkering down behind her sturdy walls. He would have given much for a mage to scry the enemy’s position. He made do with a lookout in a tall tree. It was moving on to mid-afternoon when Donalt heard the whistle. He looked up and saw his watcher pointing toward the road urgently. He nodded, but was puzzled at first when his lookout signalled that he saw only a small group of two hundred men.

The Tanjuners had sent a vanguard ahead!

Donalt cursed his foolishness. Why hadn’t he thought about a van? This could prove cursed tricky. Should he attack and fade back thereby warning the larger column he was here? Or should he let them pass and risk being caught between two forces?

“Let them pass,” Donalt ordered Captain Trine who nodded and spread the word to the others.

It was a risky decision. They might have to fight the vanguard to get back to Elvissa, but it was a calculated risk Donalt was willing to take. He watched as the enemy rode by and wished he could kill them all. He stayed down until they past. Perhaps a quarter candlemark later, a larger group appeared.

This is it!

Donalt fired his first arrow and saw his man fall then another. Firing smoothly and unhurriedly, he watched as arrows struck the enemy from all sides. Horses as well as men were hit. They reared screaming their pain. Riders fell all along the column either thrown or hit by arrows. Some regained their feet and drew their swords looking around wildly, but many lay still. They were trampled by panicked and rearing horses. Donalt used his quota of arrows all too soon, and was tempted to continue firing, but if he didn’t follow his own orders, how could he expect his men to follow them? He fired once more at a man on a beautiful roan horse, but another rider got in the way and died in his stead. He watched his target escape with regret then faded fast into the trees.

Donalt’s men were ready to ride when he reached the clearing. He hadn’t lost a single man! He gave the order to ride and they galloped out of the trees and away. He wanted to get to their next position before sunset. This time there wouldn’t be as much cover—Anselm was the only deep forest close by, but he felt he could make good use of the river and its bridge.

Days later Donalt’s euphoria had evaporated to be replace by weariness and worry. He paced the barricade that had replaced the shattered east gate of Elvissa trying to think of a clever trick that might hold off his defeat for another day. Half his men were asleep at their posts on his orders. In two candlemarks the other half would wake them so that they could take the watch for the second half of the night.

Although he had thinned the enemy forces with his ambushes, his attacks hadn’t gone entirely to plan. In his haste to reach the bridge, he had forgotten about the two hundred vanguards. He and his men had literally galloped straight into them. The resulting battle had been brutal but ultimately victorious—if you called the loss of over thirty men a victory, and he did. He hadn’t been able to kill them all though, and the surviving third had galloped away to rejoin the bulk of their army. With so many wounded men he had aborted the planned ambush at the bridge. They had carried the wounded back to the fortress and locked themselves in.

That was days ago… was it five? He was so tired that he couldn’t remember.

Elvissa’s walls were high and her gates were strong, but nothing could have withstood that first attack for long. Fireballs had hit the gate and set it on fire. He and his men had to scramble to put out the flames. Apparently not satisfied with this, the invaders had sent one fireball after another to strike the gate and blast it off its hinges. Donalt didn’t know much about mages, but the lack of magical attacks since then said to him that the mage had exhausted himself. The Tanjuners didn’t really need him though. Now the gate was down they could enter at will—or so they must have thought. Donalt had stationed two hundred of his best bowmen on the walls each side of the sundered gate. The rest of his men were behind the barricades armed with long pikes. They still had their blades with them, but so far they had managed to repel the invaders without needing to resort to swordplay. Donalt yawned widely. He needed to get some rest before the next attack. He sat next to an alert guardsman and went to sleep.

The sun had already risen when he was jogged awake again.

“They look ready to have another go, m’lord.”

Blinking sleep out of his eyes, Donalt squinted into the sun as it rose over the mountain peaks. That was the problem with having east and west facing gates—the enemy could take advantage of the sun. He shielded his eyes and saw the man was correct. The enemy had formed up and looked ready to have another go. It looked as if their War Leader had decided to equip his men a little better this time. There were long spears standing up into the air in neat rows as the men awaited the order to attack.

“Look lively! Wake that man there!” Donalt shouted.

The tired guardsman was jostled awake and took his place in the defences. Looking up toward his walls, Donalt shouted for the bowmen to fire as soon as they were confident of hitting their mark. Donalt strode along behind his men giving encouragement as he had before and no doubt would again. He had no idea if it helped his men, but it made him feel better anyway. When he saw the Tanjuners start forward he grabbed up his pike, and shoved himself in between two guardsmen who glared at him, until they realised who he was.

“Sorry lads. I can’t let you do all the work,” he said as he readied himself for the fight ahead.

Donalt was uncomfortable calling men his father’s age lad, but they expected it of him, just as they expected him to shout orders that were common sense. He played his part, so they could play theirs confident in their belief that he knew what he was doing. The first few arrows went out. When they hit their targets more followed. Only one or two men fell, and they were not likely dead. The range was too long for bows yet, but any that dropped out of the charge would be one less for the pikes to contend with.

At least it’s not raining.

The thought skittered through Donalt’s mind just as the Tanjuners hit his line. There was no time then for thought, only action.

“Elvissa!” Donalt screamed into the roar of battle, and batted his first man’s spear expertly to the side.

Donalt thrust, twisted, and pulled his wide bladed pike clear ready for the next man. All along his line, men were thrusting and killing, but for the first time, he saw some of his own men falling to spear thrusts.

Suddenly two men next to each other fell and a gap in the line opened. One then two Tanjuners jumped through and attacked from the rear. Donalt jumped up leaving his pike where it lay, and ran toward them with sword in the air. He had to stop them before more came through. Both men fall dead before he reached them, but it was already too late.

The enemy poured through.

“Out swords!” Donalt roared as he attacked.

He killed his first opponent, but the second man was damn good. Going high, he expected the man to defend, but instead the Tanjuner ducked under his blade and thrust. Donalt sucked in air trying to sink into his backbone as the man’s blade poked him in the gut. It was close, but he felt only the faintest touch on his armour as he swung his blade down to connect with the man’s arm. There was a sickening crunch, and the man screamed as his hand fell to the cobbles. Before the Tanjuner could step back, Donalt stabbed him in the throat with his dagger. All around him was chaos. He was close to losing the courtyard. He killed and killed again. Ducking under one man’s hasty slash, he cut him down only to slip on the man’s blood just as he engaged another. Rolling away from a stabbing sword, he tried to avoid the stamping feet of his men as the fight degenerated into roiling chaos.

Staggering back to his feet, Donalt tripped and stabbed a man with his dagger before he knew what had happened. Managing to keep his feet this time, he turned to engage another soldier in good quality armour, but Donalt was struck to his knees from behind by the flat of a blade. Ears ringing, he waited for his head to be cleaved from his body, but one of his men barrelled into his attacker and the fight swirled them both away.

When his head cleared enough to rejoin the fight, Donalt stabbed another Tanjuner in the back as he rushed by intent on killing sergeant Dugal. The sergeant didn’t see how close he came to death, and continued his own fight unawares. Donalt’s men were stabbing and grappling with the enemy wherever he looked. They were fighting so close together now that swords were of little use. They had resorted to daggers and fists. Looking around hurriedly Donalt had time to realise his mistake. The men on the walls could not fire down into the courtyard for fear of hitting their own men. He quickly signalled them to come down and relieve the pressure. As soon as fresh guardsmen attacked, the fight eased.

It’s working, by the God it’s working!

Attacking with more confidence of victory, Donalt didn’t see the man to his right fall and only realised that he had when he felt a blade slide into his side. He turned with the cut trying to limit the damage, but the scream worked its way up his throat and out of clenched teeth as the sizzling agony erupted.

“AEiii!” Donalt screamed as the Tanjuner twisted his sword expertly to free the blade, and crumpled to his knees as his strength fled.

Donalt lay upon the cobbles staring at the sky, and thought it was the most marvellous thing. The God truly did work miracles and they were there for everyone to see.

Why am I lying down?

He slid into the dark.

* * *

Emperor Vexin sat upon his throne listening to a report from his spy master. He occasionally chose a grape or a plum from a dish balanced on the arm of his throne, and ate it neatly spitting the stones onto a small plate in his lap. He nodded when Keppel finished the report.

“So, the Devans defeated fifty mages.
Fifty?
”

“It would seem so my emperor,” Keppel said. “Athione has opened its east gate again, and riders have been seen to arrive and depart. My sources report that couriers have been dispatched to all the lords with letters proclaiming victory over the Protectorate.”

“Darius must be formidable indeed,” Vexin mused. “Perhaps the legends of flying sorcerers are not too far from the truth after all. Surely he must be stronger than any wizard I have ever heard tell of. What else have you?”

“On the same topic, a woman called Julia is being spoken of a great deal. It appears she was a significant presence in the fortress during the siege. She seems to be a healer of some repute. Many speak of her as healing death itself. Obviously that can be discounted, but if a half of what has been reported is true, she must have great knowledge.”

Vexin frowned. The name had a foreign flavour. Tindebrai? “Have we heard of her before? Of what lineage does she descend?”

“None have ever heard of her before. Even her name sounds foreign. It could be that she came from Tindebrai, but how she escaped from there and ended within Athione I cannot imagine.”

“I don’t want you to imagine, Keppel. I want you to find out! What else?”

Vexin chose a fat juicy plum and bit into it.

“According to the Archmage, our forces have met a slight setback. He reports that Methrym defeated a significant number of Devan guardsmen including a man we believe to be Lord Purcell’s first born son, but Methrym was later ambushed and lost more than three hundred men. He says not to be concerned. The attack is proceeding on schedule.”

Vexin dropped the half eaten plum onto the plate. “
Datan
says not to worry.
Datan says
! How many has Methrym lost altogether?”

“Seven hundred my emperor,” Keppel said quietly.

“
Seven!
” Vexin gasped. That was a third of Methrym’s entire force! “Did you say
seven
hundred?
”

Keppel nodded, and began to speak, but was he silenced by Vexin’s raised hand. “Inform Bothmar of this conversation. I want Methrym’s relief force formed earlier than planned. We can’t afford to fail in taking Elvissa, not after losing so many to gain it.”