Legend of the Swords: War (21 page)

Sincerely,

King Aiden

Gregory looked at Petrin. “So they
do
exist.” He rubbed his chin.

“I guess so. I knew a new Singer had come to the court.” He sighed explosively. “Do you suppose this could be a trap?” he said, raising his eyebrows. “I mean, some Singers aren’t exactly … loyal to the King.”

Gregory nodded. “That’s true of all kinds of men, not just Sorcerers.” He lifted the paper. “I suppose it’s possible. But does it matter? I have my orders.”

Petrin nodded.

*   *   *

Gregory and Petrin walked back to the camp where the men were waiting.

“Armand, Ryan, come here. Kevin, you also.” He gestured to William. “William, I’ll need to speak with you as well.”

He gathered them around in a circle.

“William, the king has asked me to search for the Swords.” William’s eyes widened. “You’ll be in charge of the unit for a while. Until we get back, which might be a while.” He turned to Armand.

“Armand, you’re easily the best swordsman I’ve got. We’ve got to travel light and fast. I’m taking you and Ryan along, as well as Kevin.”

Armand grimaced, clearly disappointed. “If I’m the best swordsman, shouldn’t I be at the front?” he said. “And I don’t understand what good
they
will be.” He tossed his head towards the squires.

“I need you with me, Armand. And the squires will do what they can do.” Gregory gestured towards the battlefield. “We’ll travel with the rest of the unit to the edge of the plains, but then we’re going to skirt around the edge. We’ve got to get to the mountain ridge on the other side of the battlefield as quickly as possible.”

Armand nodded, then turned to Ryan. “Are we ready to leave, squire?”

Ryan nodded.

William touched Gregory’s arm. “I’m guessing I am to take the unit to the front lines as quickly as possible?”

Gregory smiled. “Yes, William, you’ve got it exactly right. Thank you.”

“That’s what I’m here for, commander.” He paused, looking at Armand, then at Ryan. “Ryan, can I see you for a minute?”

Ryan raised his eyebrows and looked at Armand. Armand waved at William, nodding.

William led Ryan over to his horse, and rummaged around in his saddlebags. He pulled out a large vial of thick liquid. It was glowing slightly, even in the strong morning light.

“Take this, Ryan.” He grimaced. “You’re the only one who was really paying attention when I was talking about the plants.” He shrugged, drawing his mouth back thoughtfully. “Plus, you’re the reason we made it off of that island alive, back in the Gredarin.”

Ryan reached out to the vial. “How do I use it?”

William smiled. “Just drizzle a little bit on an open wound. It will help heal the wound, and keep it from getting infected.”

Ryan looked over at Brian, sitting on his horse, looking over at Gregory and Petrin. “You’re not giving it all to me, are you? Won’t you need it for the rest of us? I mean, rest of you?”

William glanced over at Brian, and turned back to Ryan with warmth in his eyes. “I have four more vials, Ryan. Brian and the rest of us will be ok. Thank you for asking.”

“Ryan! Get your arse moving!” Armand yelled. Ryan looked around, then back at William.

“You’d better get over to Armand, Ryan,” William said.

“Thank you, Knight William.” Ryan ran over to his horse, and mounted as quickly as he could.

“I only hope it will be enough, young Ryan.” William’s smile faded, and he shook his head sadly.

*   *   *

Petrin rode with them until they reached the edge of the plains. At that point, he paid his respects to his brother, and galloped off with his men to reach the front before William and the others did. He would let the other generals know they were arriving, and William knew to look for Petrin for orders once they had arrived.

Gregory, Armand, and the two squires shook hands with their friends and practice partners, then turned off to the side. A few clucks brought their horses to a fast trot—they needed to make time.

Ryan looked across the plains to the distant mountains.
Odd, that to make extra time we’re going so far out of our way.
He thought.
If we could just go straight through, we would save a lot of time.

Gregory seemed to be reading his mind. He cleared his throat to get the small troupe’s attention, and gestured across the plains to the mountains, and then to a low, dusty cloud further to the east. “We’ll cut across the fields as soon as I think we’re able, but we’ve got to avoid the battle proper—if they see us, they’ll just send a troupe of archers to cut us down while we ride.”

They rode at a fast trot for nearly two hours before slowing to a walk to rest the horses. Gregory dismounted, and gestured for the others to do the same, and led his horse for a short time.

“I thought we’d better let them really cool down,” Gregory said. “I think we can make more time if we keep up the pace and walk for a few minutes every two hours.”

A few minutes later, they mounted and rode again. It was dusty, in the plains. Ryan began to worry as he realized that they were raising a small trail of dust that would be visible for a few miles to a trained scout.

Even with the dust, though, the rest of the day passed without incident. They stopped long past full darkness, near a small stream. They were able to wash the dust off, refill their water skins, and water the horses thoroughly—although they were careful not to let the horses drink their fill while they were still hot. They fed the horses before they ate themselves, feeding them from their sparse store of oats.

“It’s important to give them more than just grass,” Gregory said, as he fitted a feedbag to his mount’s head. “Grass doesn’t give them enough energy for pushing them like this.” He shook his head, and patted his horse’s sweating neck. “And make sure to put blankets on them, we don’t want them to catch a chill.

“We’ll wake before dawn. Get as much rest as you can.”

“Do we need to set a watch?” Armand asked.

Gregory shook his head. “No, we should be safe. At most, there are two or three farmsteads that have seen us, and even that many is unlikely. We should be safe for the next two days. We will be within a day’s riding from our objective at that point.”

They stayed awake long enough to eat some travel biscuits, and then they slept.

*   *   *

The next morning found them riding side by side, the two knights in the front and the squires behind.

“It’s a good thing we traveled for so long to get to the Gredarin,” Kevin said. “My whole body hurts, even with all that practice!”

Ryan nodded sympathetically. He was sore too, but Kevin was clearly worse off. “We’re making good time, though.”

“Yes, we are,” Kevin agreed.

Gregory turned the group inward, beginning their trek across the middle of the plains.

“I hope you squires remembered to put your lunches somewhere that you can get to them.” Gregory called back. “We’re going to eat in the saddle today.”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Did you remember?” he whispered to Kevin.

Kevin shook his head. “No. You?”

Ryan grinned. “No.” He chuckled quietly. “We’ll have to rummage through our packs during the next walk.”

Kevin looked relieved. “Good idea.”

The Sun seemed to be beating down hotter here than he remembered at home. He pulled a rag out and wiped his forehead.

It was going to be a long ride.

*   *   *

Armand was speaking to Gregory quietly. It was near sunset, but the clouds had yet to begin their golden dance of color.

“I don’t think so, Armand,” Gregory said, a little louder.

Armand continued, quietly pushing Gregory with his voice.

“All right, then!” Gregory snapped. “I guess we’ve made good time so far. We’ll stop.” He sighed. “Gods know I could use a hot meal.”

Armand straightened in his saddle, and reined in. He slipped off his horse and waited for Ryan to ride up next to him.

“Feed and water the horses, Ryan, and then get ready for practice.” The steely glint in his eye was matched in Ryan’s. As he turned away, he added, over his shoulder, “Wear your helm this time.”

Kevin breathed in deeply as Armand scouted around for brush to burn for a fire. “I can’t believe it! We’ve been riding for, what, ten hours? And he wants to spar with you?”

Ryan’s eyes narrowed. “Wants to beat me up is more like it.” He smiled grimly. “But I don’t have to take it any more. I’m going to beat him tonight.” He narrowed his eyes as he watched Armand stride around the field.

Climbers

Sir Gregory refused to watch the training match between Ryan and Sir Armand; he picked up a small travel pot and started to cook some stew.

Armand smiled cockily as he strapped on his shield. “This is the way to release some of that tension, isn’t it, boy?” He laughed. “A good fight—I mean,
practice bout
—helps me to loosen up those tight muscles from a day in the saddle.” He turned to Kevin. “You’re going to be the referee. We’re going to best of five touches this time.” He put his helmet on, and Ryan did the same.

Kevin winced, but nodded at Armand.

Armand Ryan saluted, and fell into position.

The first thing that Ryan had learned from fighting with more than one person was that he had to attack first, and attack fast. He did so now, and allowed himself a small smile at the look of surprise on Armand’s face as he hailed blow after blow at the knight.

Armand was able to block the blows, though. Several of his parries were followed by counterattacks that were at full speed.

Ryan’s small smile disappeared as he realized that Armand had been holding back the whole time that they had known each other. Armand was
fast.
Suddenly, Ryan was on the defensive. He let go of all restraint and moved as fast as he could, blocking with his shield, with his sword, stepping out of the way—whatever he could do, he did.

Ryan realized that he was tense, his jaw was clenched, his teeth bared. He forced himself to relax, and redoubled his efforts to be faster, to hit harder. Before he knew what had happened, he had struck Armand on the temple, hard.

Armand staggered to the side. Ryan stopped attacking, a look of concern on his face as he came to Armand’s side.

“Point, Ryan,” Kevin said, quietly.

“I’m fine,” Armand said, and roughly pushed Ryan away. “I barely felt your little ‘love tap’, boy.” He straightened, saluted, and fell into a slightly unsteady en guard position. “Now get back and fight,
squire
. And do try not to fight like the little girl that you are.”

Ryan frowned unhappily.
Why does he hate me so much?
He saluted, and fell into position.

And was immediately defending from blow after blow as Armand went after him. He stepped back, and stepped back again. Armand sneered at him and stepped back, stopping his attacks.

“What is it, Ryan, too tired to return my attacks, now?” He laughed.

A surge of anger flashed through Ryan, and he stepped forward to attack. Armand seemed to simply brush aside his practice sword, and struck Ryan’s chest with such force that it knocked the wind out of him. He fell to the ground, gasping, and Kevin rushed to his side.

“Well, squire?” Armand asked Kevin coldly.

“Are you ok?” Kevin whispered to Ryan.

Ryan nodded, breath finally entering his lungs.

“
Squire?
” Armand demanded.

“Point, Crown Knight Armand,” Kevin said, bitterly, as he stood up and backed away. Ryan dragged himself to his feet slowly, stalling for time.

The knight and squire saluted, and they both attacked.

Their wooden swords whipping through the air too fast to see, they continued to probe each other’s defenses. Armand’s shield still did not cover his lower legs, and Ryan began to attack higher up, trying to draw Armand’s shield even further away from his ankles.

It worked. He made his move, swinging his sword up and over Armand’s head and bringing it across Armand’s exposed left ankle. Armand’s mouth formed a little ‘O’ as his feet flew out from under him. Ryan thrust his sword’s tip into Armand’s chest to score a point. Not as hard as Armand had hit him, but certainly not gently.

“Point, Ryan,” Kevin said. He was grinning, and nodded to Ryan as he saluted and fell back into en Guard.

Armand growled as he got to his feet. He made the motions of a salute, but fell into en guard very quickly and attacked immediately. Ryan was thrown off guard by Armand’s hasty attack, and Armand scored an easy point by thrusting his sword into Ryan’s shoulder.

“Point, Crown Knight Armand.” Kevin sounded angry, and Ryan shook his head.

Just score the match, Kevin.
Ryan thought.
All you’re doing with your anger is making Armand angrier.
He looked into Armand’s narrowed eyes, and thought,
and more
deadly.

“Match point,” Kevin said, needlessly. They all knew the score. Gregory looked up from his cooking, though, when Kevin spoke.

They both saluted, mechanically, before assuming en guard. Again Armand attacked with speed and strength Ryan had never seen before. The wooden blades blurred around the two warriors, bouncing off of each other.

His legs are covered, this time. He learned that one quickly.
Ryan thought.
Well, he is supposed to be a good warrior.

Ryan tried a shield push, but Armand simply met it with his own shield. Armand sneered again. Ryan realized his jaw was locked tight, and his shoulders were too tense. He tried to relax, but before he could get his muscles loose and his mind back into the battle, his helmet rang like a bell, and he was looking at the sky.

Armand had won, despite all the practice with two opponents, despite every best effort on his part, despite moving faster than he had moved in his life—Armand had won.

Kevin’s face appeared above him, full of concern.

“Ugh, can you stop spinning, Kevin?” He asked, weakly.