The Hordes of Chanakra (Knights of Aerioch) (25 page)

"The Twins!" Kaila shuddered.

"I was able to pierce the magical defenses and grant them an opportunity to escape, but only a handful returned.  The other wing held...thank The Twins."

"Aye." Kaila shuddered again. "To be so helpless..."

"Kreg does not believe we can hold Merona," Shillond said. "I must agree.  He has called for every craft that can float to evacuate what we can save.  I have already sent messengers along the coasts of Merona.  I need you to send whatever you can from Aerioch.  I'll use spellcraft to ensure good weather."

"Keven?" Kaila looked at him.

"Of course," he said.

"Good," Shillond said. "How goes it with you?"

"We have had good fortune," Keven said. "Kaila led us to victory in our first battle and we give them no peace.  We have reached nearly to the western mountains, where we will hold against further attacks."

"Excellent," Shillond said. "I will tell Kreg.  Perhaps the news will cheer him." His image wavered slightly. "I can say no more." He vanished.

"You must go to Merona," Keven told Kaila.

"Keven?" Kaila studied him for a moment. "We have battles yet.  Messengers can be sent to arrange for boats.  I would like to go, but..."

"You have heard your father," Keven said. "Kreg's spirit is broken.  If there is anyone in all the world who may mend the broken pieces it is you.  You must go to him."

"As you will, Your Highness." Kaila bowed, turned, and left the tent.  She had several hours yet of daylight.  She saddled her horse, mounted, and drove it to a trot toward Enosh.

Despite all, her heart sang within her.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

"Shillond, what am I going to do?" Kreg had commandeered a guard post in one of the towers flanking the main gate of Callens.  It gave him a view of the field below, a field packed solid with people. "All these people..."

Over the previous three days, people had been pouring into the Callens Peninsula by the thousands.  Word of the pending evacuation had spread and every person who could travel was making his way there:  men of military age, their wives, their children, their parents and, in some cases, their livestock.  Already, more than 70 thousand camped on the hills with more arriving daily.

"Three days ago," Shillond said, "you had a plan."

"I was going to evacuate an army." Kreg grimaced. "An army, maybe twenty thousand.  But this..." He swept his hand, indicating the people outside. "How do I tell a man that we can take him because he can fight, but his wife and children remain to the mercies of Schah?" Kreg's eyes drifted to where someone had attempted to scrub a bloodstain from a wall. “How can I watch more people die because I’m not good enough?  How can I do that?”

"You don't." Shillond took Kreg by the shoulders. "You take all of them."

"All?" Kreg sank onto a bench and shook his head. "That's just not possible.  That northern army can’t be more than days away and we just don't have the time."

"I know how close it is," Shillond said. "The High Seer is tracking their progress."

Kreg looked up surprised.

Shillond nodded. "It is true that their own wizards are shielding them from sight, but the seer searches.  When he reaches a place he can't see, we know he's found the Schahi.  We cannot know their numbers or how they are armed, but we can know where they are." Shillond paused then said, "If we need time, then what does it take to get time?"

"Two of you!" Kreg snapped. "One to keep the weather favorable--a mild squall, a stiff breeze for that matter, would sink half the boats out there--and one to protect the army holding the pass.  The Northern army would have had at least one mage with them and we never did find the ones from the army we beat."

A wide grin split Shillond's face. "Then there is no problem."

Kreg stared at him for several seconds. "What?"

"I'll keep watch on the weather.  You protect the army."

“What?”

“Kreg,” Shillond said, “when you led the counterattack against the Schahi, their wizards cast no spells against you, or against us on the hills.  Did you stop to think why that might be?”

“I don’t know.”

“I think you were responsible,” Shillond said. “Remember the Krayt? You can block magic.  I said at the time that it was getting stronger.  Maybe it is strong enough now to cover a battlefield.”

They stared at each other.  Finally, Kreg nodded slightly. "That's quite a chance to take on a guess.  We don't really know for certain if I can stop magic like that."

"No," Shillond said. "We don't really know.  But what is there to lose?"

"What is there indeed?  All right, Shillond.  Let's see what we can work out."

#

Rain had been falling for two days, ever since Shillond had started controlling the weather over the strait between Merona and Aerioch.  Shillond had explained that he could not stop rain or wind, but simply move it.  Kreg had asked if he could move it over the neck of the Callens peninsula.

The rain had swollen the marshes, making the land virtually impassible, certainly so to an army.  The only avenue by which the northern Schahi army could reach them would be along the road.

Kreg sat in a wooden chair and looked across a table at three knights.  The rain beat steadily on the canvas of the tent Kreg was using as his field headquarters. Kreg wore a heavy wool cloak pulled tight against the evening chill.

“Digging is menial work,” one of the knights said, “fit only for peasants.  We will not do it.”

“I see,” Kreg said. He stood, removing the brooch pin from his cloak.  From behind him, Bertan took the cloak and stepped back.

Underneath the cloak Kreg wore his armor. Servants had laundered the surcoat, but it still bore tears and stains from the battle.

Kreg slammed his palm into the tabletop. “You
will
do what I say.  You
will
dig trenches, pits, or your own graves when and where I tell you to dig them.  And you
will
do it without complaint or I swear that you will envy the former residents of Callens.” Kreg sat back in the chair and looked up at the white-faced knights. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Lord Kreg,” the self-appointed spokesman of the three said.

“Then get to work.”

The three backed hastily out of the tent.

When they were gone, Kreg let his head fall forward onto folded arms on the tabletop. “God, Bertan, what next?”

“Kreg, I...“

“No, that’s okay.  I’m just...tired, I guess.”

“You have reason to be.”

In the distance, trumpets sounded. Kreg looked up. “Bertan, what?” He did not know the trumpet signals well.

“The sentries, Sir Kreg,” Bertan said. “A party approaches.  Allies.”

“Go see what it is.”

“Yes, Sir Kreg.” He held out the cloak. “Your cloak, Sir Kreg.”

Kreg reached out and took the cloak. “Thank you.”

Kreg had just wrapped the cloak around himself and settled back into the seat when Bertan returned to the tent. “Archers, Sir Kreg.  It is the archers that harried the northern Schahi army.  They have joined us here.  Five thousand of them.”

Kreg started to rise once more. “I’ll need to see them placed with the others.”

“Rest, Sir Kreg,” Bertan said. “It is being done.”

“But...”

“You have given the order.  None will gainsay you.”

Kreg sighed and pulled the cloak tighter. “Have I become such a monster?”

“A monster, Sir Kreg?  No.  Say rather the greatest hero Merona has ever known.”

Kreg shuddered. “Some hero. ‘I am become death...’”

“Sir Kreg?”

“Nothing, Bertan.  I think we’re done for the night.” Kreg stood and walked to one of the two cots that lay in the back of the tent. “And maybe you can find some more charcoal for the brazier?  It’s cold in here.”

“Cold, Sir Kreg? I am already asweat.”

#

The next morning dawned clear, with dew heavy on the grass.  Kreg looked out from his tent over the fortifications he had ordered constructed.

The army, nobles and peasants alike, had dug a broad ditch across the front of their lines with the dirt piled into a low wall, reinforced with timbers, on the near side.  Wooden stakes filled the ditch and protruded from the front of the wall.

Kreg winced on seeing those fortifications.  The wood had come from now-empty farmsteads. Happy families had once filled those farmsteads.  Those farmsteads now only held corpses, the corpses of people who the Schahi had tortured and killed while Kreg had urged caution on Efrij.

How many more would die while Kreg stood safe behind fortified walls?  But try as he might, Kreg could see no other way.  To attempt to attack the Schahi would be suicide and would lose everything.

Kreg turned away from the fortifications and looked toward the bay.  A nearly solid wall of sail, heading toward Callens, filled the sea.  “Bertan!”

"Yes, Sir Kreg?"

Kreg pointed at the approaching wall of ships. "What is that?"

“Forgive me, Sir Kreg,” Bertan said, “but Shillond said to say nothing until we were sure.  Aerioch sends a fleet of five hundred ships and boats to our aid.”

Kreg squinted and shielded his eyes against the sun.  On one of the larger ships, the sail carried the coat of arms of Aerioch.  As it approached more closely, he could see the royal banner flying from the topmast.

"Send word to Shillond," Kreg said to the messenger. "Begin the evacuation.  Women and children first, then anyone who cannot fight.  When the rest have escaped we will retreat and board ship ourselves."

"Yes, Sir Kreg." Bertan mounted his horse and began the treacherous descent down the hill.

"Five hundred more ships," Kreg shook his head. "We may get out of this alive after all."

#

Once full dark had fallen, Kreg left his post at the top of the hill and began the difficult descent by the light of the twin moons.  He had dared not descend earlier as he had decided to keep the scouts in close.  While he believed the High Seer would give them plenty of warning before the Schahi arrived, he did not completely trust that belief.  If the seer did miss the Schahi, they would only have a couple of hours warning of an impending attack, not enough for Kreg to reach his hilltop from Callens.

Shillond sat in conversation with someone who had his back to Kreg.  The stranger wore a cloak that concealed his figure although Kreg could tell that he would have impressive height standing.  Deep black hair just touched the thrown back hood of the cloak.

Shillond looked up. "Kreg, good to see you.  The first boatloads are away."

The stranger stood and turned.  Kreg's blue eyes met Kaila's silver.

"Kaila?" Kreg stepped forward eagerly. "What are you doing here?  I mean...I'm glad to see you."

"Aye." Kaila's smile sparkled in the firelight. "Right glad am I to see you as well.  How goes it?"

"As well as we could expect." Kreg shrugged. "We managed to pull a costly victory out of a total disaster.  Although we can’t hold the island there's no panic. Not yet anyway.  And those ships that came in.  I assume you came in with them?" He waited for Kaila's nod before continuing. "They'll just about make up the difference.  We've got a lot more to evacuate than I had thought."

Kaila nodded. "Shillond has told me."

Kreg smiled wryly. "All the knights, their families, the minor nobility, their families, most of the freeholders, their families, and a large chunk of the peasantry, and their families.  A lot of them want to bring livestock too, but I'm afraid we'll have to disappoint them."

Bertan entered the room with a message for Shillond.  Kaila's eyes fell on his mail. "You are squire now, Bertan?" Kaila asked him. "To Kreg?"

"Yes, Kaila." Bertan stared at the floor. "It..."

"I needed a messenger I could trust," Kreg said. "And there was no way I was going to have him on the field without armor.  I mean, it’s one thing to send messages from behind to fixed lines like at Griselde, but I was going to be right in the middle of it here so..."

"'Twould be the height of foolishness," Kaila agreed.

"So." Kreg drew a chair close to Shillond and Kaila and sat. "How long will this evacuation take?"

"If everything goes well and nobody else arrives, we can expect to finish late on the third day," Shillond said.

"Figure four days then," Kreg said. "At least.  We're almost sure to get more refugees and just as sure to lose some of those floating deathtraps."

"Four days then." Shillond nodded. "What about your end?"

"The Seer expects the Schahi army to arrive on the fourth day," Kreg said. "I want to be ready for them at any time, though.  You never know.  It looks like we're going to have to retreat under fire and I don't like that.  Too many good men are likely to die in the process."

"What we need then," Shillond said, "is something to hold back the attacking army long enough for ours to retreat and board the boats."

As Shillond spoke, Kreg lifted a small oil lamp from the chain by which it hung from the ceiling.  The lamp was a round, lidded pot with a spout in one side.  A wick in the spout reached the oil within.  Kreg removed the lid and stared into the pot while swirling the oil around.  The light of the burning wick cast eerie shadows that played across his face as he said, "I have an idea."

#

Kaila sat with Kreg at the top of the guard tower.  Kreg stood with one foot resting on the low wall while he leaned with one hand on the merlon.  Kaila leaned against the next merlon and looked deeply into his face.  There were new lines in Kreg’s face, lines of care.  A darkness shrouded his eyes that troubled her.

“Are you well, Kreg?”

“Well enough, I guess,” Kreg said. “I’m alive anyway when so many others aren’t.”

Kaila followed the line of Kreg’s gaze down to the field where thousands camped.

“And many others are alive because of you,” she said.

“And how many are dead because of me?  If only...”

“If only what?” Kaila gently took hold of Kreg’s shoulder and turned him to face her. “Are you greater than the Gods, to order all as you would have it?  Not even the Gods can forestall every evil and long ago learned that the attempt led to ruin in the end.”

Kreg said nothing.

“Perhaps the Gods are different on your world, I do not know, but let me tell you the story.”

She motioned for Kreg to sit.  When he had done so, she said, “Many, many years ago, when the world was still new, Koreb and Mira, the Threefold Twins, walked openly upon the world.”

“Threefold Twins?” Kreg asked. “You’ve used that term before.”