Moonstone, Magic That Binds (Book 1) (35 page)

“That’s because he’s smarter than the three of us combined and he knows how to use that intelligence,” Restella said. She’d never voiced or even thought much of Mander Hart, but her words rang true in her mind. She trusted him more than the two men in front of her.

“Enough of that talk, Captain-General,” Piroff said. His face filled with a moment’s anger until he controlled it.

“Yes, sir.” She tried to look intimidated, but these men didn’t intimidate her like Lotto Mistad did. Sir Mistad. Her father had refused to take his title away even though she had insisted.  She knew her request was petty and she felt ashamed for making it. As far as she could get was her father’s concurrence that Lotto’s immediate return to Gensler to continue his Happly preparations made military sense.

~

The inn at Harveston didn’t look any different as mid-summer approached, but then why would it? Lotto had ridden through the town, without stopping a little more than a month ago, heading back to Beckondale. He tied up his two horses at the hitching post in the inn’s courtyard as Heartwell, the innkeeper came out to greet him.

“Lotto Mistad!  So you’re back.”

“Did you have a successful trip in the south?”

“I’ve been to Crackledown, further south, nearly to the border and then I returned to Crackledown on my way back to Beckondale and now I’m staying here for a week or so, if you’ll have me.”

Heartwell put his finger to his nose. “You stay as long as you like. I’m with you all the way.”

Lotto smiled at Heartwell’s excitement at being a conspirator. “I’m waiting for ten men. Five are Gensleran scouts and five men from Beckondale. We have a mission.”

“Histo or Happly?”

Lotto put his own finger to the side of his nose, “I’m sworn to secrecy!” He had to keep from laughing at the serious look on Heartwell’s face.

“The mercenaries have slowed to a trickle. This is a slow period since most farmers are tending to their planted crops and merchants won’t be buying for another month, so you can use the inn as your keep.” Heartwell smiled and rubbed his hands. “If there is anything I can do for you…”

“Don’t tell anyone that I’m here. Just have them sit in the common room and get me. I can verify if they are in my group.”

“Of course, of course.” Heartwell called for the redheaded groom. “Take care of this man’s horses and feed the birds. “

The boy groaned. “Not more birds, sir.”

Lotto flipped him a penny. “One of those every day, just for you.”

His frown flipped around to a smile. “Yes, sir, happily sir.”

Heartwell showed him upstairs to a larger room that looked out on the street, so he could spot his friends easier. Lotto liked the room because it had better light for studying the folio and his field spell book. He opened the one he had been studying in Beckondale and learned more about the principles of using power to shake the earth. That would be a better way of toppling trees. He wondered why magicians didn’t clear farmland that way. Maybe it took too much power. If it didn’t, perhaps he could make a breach in a castle wall.

He took out some paper and an inkbottle and a quill and began taking notes. He’d have plenty of questions ready for the battle wizards when they arrived. In the meantime, he’d tromp through the fields to the woods to the west and try out the spells. Lotto didn’t see the point of scaring the good people of Harveston.

After four days, with the concepts of the folio, he’d created some interesting effects with his spells. He started when someone pounded on his door. He rose and grabbed his sword before opening up the door slightly.

A body slammed against the door, throwing Lotto back, he held up his weapon, ready to fight.

“Put that down!” Morio Jellas said. “Come on in boys.”

The five rangers that Lotto caroused with at the Duke’s palace filled Lotto’s room.

“We’ve come to save you.”

“I didn’t expect you. Morio.”

The duke’s son shrugged. “When the boys told me there’s a good fight brewing in Happly, how could I refuse?”

Lotto felt heartened by the man’s presence. He always seemed larger than life and their campaign would certainly take on a more festive air.

“Let me buy you all a drink,” Lotto said.

Heartwell poked his head around the door.  “Is everything all right?”

“Drinks! Then we’ll be all right.” Morio laughed and put his arm around Lotto’s shoulders. “Just put the sword away, okay? Someone might get poked!”

Heartwell held his hands to his chest as the Gensleran scouts grabbed his arms as they walked down the stairs.

“They are who I waited for,” Lotto said. “I suppose you’ll make a lot of money tonight, for they know how to have a good time.”

“Do we!” Anton Whisperwood said.

Lotto led them to a corner of the common room where they had less chance of being overheard and less chance of bothering Heartwell’s patrons.

“So I heard of your exploits in Happly and that you met my friend, Gully Workman,” Lotto said. “Why don’t you tell me your version of the story? Gully’s been with Captain-General Beecher’s troops at the border.”

An hour later and after three rounds of drinks, they had brought each other current. Morio had been silent about Princess Sallia.

“I’ll wait for the wizards from Valetan to talk about our strategy. You won’t remember a thing I say tomorrow morning, anyway.” Lotto said, laughing along with his friends. He felt at home among them. Mander, Kenyr and Fessano were like fathers, but these men were like brothers, except he wished Gully sat at the table. Then his band would be complete.

Morio crowded a little closer to Lotto, when a woman bard began to sing in the common room. “I have news of the princess.”

Lotto’s heart flipped a little.

“She’s written to that Anchor fellow, the one who nearly died the day you saved her. I think you have a rival for the woman’s affections.”

“I don’t know how much affection Princess Sallia had for me. I’m just a common soldier.”

“You’re the first son of a duke and a Knight of Valetan. That would be enough for anybody. But there was something between the two. There are linked somehow. Not like you and your princess, but, I don’t know!  I certainly failed to pique her interest.” Morio laughed, but Lotto didn’t share in the amusement.

“She is well and Anchor has recovered?”

“The man only wrote to the princess. Father shipped him out to join Travelwell at South Keep. That’s just off the road to Happly from the Red Kingdom and not too far from Learsea. I’d count it as a dangerous place to be in these times, but Anchor looked forward to it. He sent a message of thanks to my father as well.”

Lotto snorted. “I have no claim on Sally.”

“She really let you call her by that name?  She didn’t let me!” Morio winked at him and took a drink.

“All the way to Crackledown and she asked me to use the name when we were alone in your father’s castle.”

Morio shook his head. “I don’t understand women. Wait, I do understand women when they bat their eyelashes at me. By the way, what are the serving maids like here?”

The man had charm, of that Lotto couldn’t deny. “I’ve kept to my rooms, so I don’t know.”

Morio rubbed his hands when a maid appeared.

“Dinnertime, for you lot. We have some fresh venison stew that Master Heartwell recommends.”

“Then it’s stew for everybody,” Morio said giving the woman a huge grin and puffing out his chest. The other men just laughed at him and shook their heads at Morio’s antics.

After they had eaten, Lotto told them that tomorrow they’d go into the forest and he would show them some of his new tricks.

~~~

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

~

T
HE DAY DAWNED GRAY AND MISTY.
Restella had noticed groups of farmers already out in their fields as they broke camp at a crossroads. In this section of Valetan, farmers worked together tending the fields in large groups and moved from field to field until all of the crops were tended.

She wondered if she could apply that kind of thinking to her strategy. Perhaps concentrate the magicians…  Restella called the leader of the small group of magicians that were about to set out directly south to Gensler while she would turn east towards the border of Happly.

“Talk to Lieutenant Mistad about concentrating your efforts into groups rather than spreading them thinly around.”

“We will, princess.” He bowed to her. “It’s time to depart, if we have your leave.” She didn’t like the look in the wizard’s eye and wondered if her message would reach Lotto. The man didn’t seem too respectful of her rank.

“Certainly. Good luck and we will see you in Happly.” Restella never could get wizards to call her by her rank of Captain-General, even if they had been assigned for years to the Valetan army.

Lotto. She wished his mission well, now that his face didn’t trouble her dreams. She resisted touching the Moonstone to check his location. She considered that a personal weakness and refused to do it again unless she needed to know from a strategic standpoint.  She had gotten over the hurt and the misery of their last encounter.  Restella only found peace when she thought of Lotto as a friend.  As long as she regarded him as a comrade and not a romantic interest, her emotions settled down.

Two weeks later, she arrived at her camp. Everything seemed in order, but the army had definitely grown. She sought out Silver.

“Where did the men come from?”

“And greetings to you, Captain-General,” Silver said with the monotone he used ever since the Oringian debacle.

Restella unsuccessfully tried to repress a blush. “I’m sorry. I had a difficult time in Beckondale.”

“Lotto Mistad?”

Silver knew her too well, so she merely nodded. “I’m focusing on our mission, here.”

“We’ve had a few visitors in our camp while you were gone. A band of merchants with a few wizards for guards came by and here comes the big surprise.”

A tall blond man with short curly hair walked up.

“Councilor Lessa, this is Captain-General Restella Beecher. Ma’am, this is Councilor Lessa of Prola. He has brought twenty-five hundred men and ample supplies to join us. I’d now call us a proper army.” She had expected Silver to show a bit more excitement, so perhaps he didn’t feel well. Regardless, she now had reserves, even without the men from the Oringian front.

This Lessa had a roguish cast to his face and the hint of a smile as they waited for orderlies to set up a table and chairs in front of her tent.

“I understand that Captain Mistad is under your command?” Lessa said.

Restella grunted. Lotto, again! Could she not rid herself of him? Friends, she chided herself. She forced a smile and said, “Lieutenant Mistad leads a small force of rangers and battle wizards assigned to harry the Duke of Happly’s forces and reduce the number of mages at the duke’s disposal. They will enter Happly from Gensler. Why have you come to help us?”

Lessa waved his hand and tilted his head. That smile of his broadened and Restella didn’t know if a man with such a casual attitude could be trusted. “I tired of leading the reconstruction of Prola. I’m a military man, always have been, and since Lotto saved us from a bad, bad king, I thought I would repay the favor. Mander Hart asked me to join you in Happly. I thought I’d have to chase you south, but I see you haven’t invaded yet. I’m more than pleased to help since Prola is better off without my bureaucratic ineptitude for a while.” His face turned deadly serious. “I know what you are up against. You fight a dark empire from across the sea and they don’t even have to use their own army, but Bessethian soldiers as puppets. I’m no puppet, Captain-General, I assure you.”

Lessa’s intensity nearly blew her over. She marveled at his personal power and had to change her instant opinion of him. The man likely ran roughshod over his council and yet he withdrew to join her forces. Restella looked into his blazing eyes overlong and pulled away. What kind of spell did he just cast?

“Captain Silver has told you of our strategy?”

Lessa looked at the Happly map on the table. “Without our forces, your chances of success relied solely on Lotto’s efforts. Now you might have an even chance. My men are not rangers, but they are here and yours to command. There are only a few potential battlefields in Happly since the terrain is mostly forested hills. The Duke can fortify those battlefields, lay traps along the way; do all kinds of mischief.”

“General Lessa,” Silver said, but Lessa waved his words away.

The Prolan nodded to Restella, “While with your forces, I subject myself to the Captain-General’s command. You could refer to me as Captain Lessa, but we are friends, are we not? I am Armand. Captain Silver is Tori and you, if I may be so bold, are Restella. Please suffer me this one affectation to call you by your given names.”

Restella cleared her throat. “Certainly… Armand. Carry on,” she looked at Silver with raised eyebrows, “Tori.” She had never, ever called Silver by his first name. Not ever, but Lessa… Armand… requested it so gallantly, how could she refuse? She looked for a trace of the usual amusement in Silver’s eyes, but found them without emotion. Perhaps the failed Oringian battle had affected him differently than it did her.

“We have been training the men for more informal fighting as we penetrate the forests on the other side of the Fargo. Our scouts have seen no evidence of the enemy for four leagues from this fording spot,” Silver pointed to the map, “If we just march in, the Happlyan army can just pick us off from the sides or set traps that the entire army will fall into.”

“Groups.” Restella thought back to the farmers. There were strengths in acting as a group, but her mind expanded to think of all Valetan and there must be tens of thousands of farmer-groups bringing in the harvest. She called for an orderly. “Bring Lieutenant Workman here, please.”

“I have met Workman before. He traveled with Lotto. A competent man,” Lessa said.

Restella rose from her seat and stretched. “Perhaps I can rest for a few minutes. Today’s ride was a bit overlong. We can assemble back here in a quarter of an hour.” She didn’t like the way Silver and Lessa looked at each other, like two gaming cocks, one smiling and the other serious. To blazes with them.