‘Less than a day’s ride, I reckon,’ answered the soldier.
‘Good. As much as I enjoy the company, a bath and bed would be welcome.’
‘Well, I’m not keen on baths; my papa said they’d wash away your strength, make you weak, so I avoid them until told by an officer, then I do it quick.’
Having been downwind of the man, Hal had no trouble believing the story.
The camp had become routine for Hal and Ty. For two weeks they had been riding with these men and while the two young nobles’ identities were still hidden, they had come to know the men they rode with well. Hal realized that in some way garrison soldiers were the same the world over. The Bas-Tyra accent might be foreign on his ear, and some of their words were foreign enough to make him wish he had studied the original Bas-Tyra dialect, but for the most part he understood and admired them. Like soldiers everywhere, they numbered their share of drunks, malingerers, malcontents, and fools, but he had little doubt these men had earned their duke’s loyalty as much as he had earned theirs.
He approached Captain Reddic after the evening meal. ‘If you have no objection, Captain, I’d like to be off before first light.’
‘In a hurry to get to Salador?’ Reddic asked with a neutral expression.
Keeping his voice down, Hal said, ‘You’ve been a fine officer on this mission, Captain – one I’d be proud to have in my command.’
‘Your command?’
Lowering his voice, Hal said, ‘I’m Henry conDoin, prince of the Kingdom and Duke of Crydee.’ He had been carrying his father’s ducal signet in his belt pouch. He would follow tradition and bury it with his father once his father’s body had been recovered from the roadside grave where Brendan had buried him. At the king’s pleasure he would don the new ducal signet given him by his liege lord – whoever that might turn out to be. Hal showed the captain the ring, then put it back in his pouch. ‘I’m riding with my companion to take council with Prince Edward on the Fields of Albalyn.’
Reddic reflexively started to come to attention, but Hal’s hand on his shoulder cut off the change in posture. ‘I’d just as soon appear at the gates of Salador as one of a pair of swords for hire than be escorted in by thirty of Bas-Tyra’s finest.’
‘Highness,’ whispered the captain. ‘Whatever you command.’
‘How about Ty and I take the last watch before dawn, then just steal a march on you? Make up whatever story suits you and we’ll be fine. If fate gives me the opportunity to commend you to my lord Bas-Tyra, I will.’
‘Your Highness is too kind.’
Hal smiled. ‘I know soldiers, and you handle these better than most.’
He walked back to where Ty was patiently waiting for what remained of the food to be heated up. There was only so much you could do with salted pork, dried vegetables and jerked beef. More experienced cavalry cooks carried small packets of spices, trying to give the lacklustre food some semblance of variety. Hal was of the opinion that just getting anything hot on the trail was a situation for which to be thankful, so anything more was a blessing.
‘We’re taking the last watch and getting out of here early.’
Ty nodded. ‘Anxious to get where we’re going?’
‘Absolutely. That popping around those magicians do … it would be something if we could do that at will.’
‘Maybe flying, while we’re at it,’ said Ty with a wry grin. ‘I’ve been told some of them manage that feat, as well.’
‘All right. I’m going to get some rest until they tell us food is ready. Tomorrow night, a good dinner and a hot bath.’
Ty laughed. ‘Don’t sound so expansive. You’re not buying; we’re going to be guests at the palace.’
Hal lowered his voice. ‘No, we’re not. I’m foregoing the usual courtesy of calling on the Duke of Salador – Jim shared some intelligence with me before we left, and I’m not certain I want to be in Duke Arthur’s tender care, even for a night. We’ll find a decent inn, and I am buying.’
Ty grinned. ‘I know just the place. Very good food; not as good as at the River House—’ the River House was the name of his father’s twin establishments in Roldem and Olasko, famous in the Sea of Kingdoms for the best food one could buy. ‘But very good. The beds are soft with clean sheets, and the women are … very friendly.’
‘Sounds like just the place,’ said Hal, lying down and putting his hands behind his head. His thoughts couldn’t help turning to Princess Stephané. No matter how many times he told himself that she was not only unobtainable, but that fate might decide he would never see her again, he still saw her face last before he fell asleep, and every morning she was the first thing he thought about. No woman he had ever met had filled him with such feelings: he felt profoundly empty without her.
He had been somewhat sheltered as a youth, his mother apparently having eyes and ears in every home containing a daughter of appropriate age. Being the eldest son of a duke had advantages almost everywhere in the Kingdom, but not in Crydee. It would have been funny to Hal had he not been the object of the joke. While other young men his age were often closing down ale-houses and inns on Sixthday night, he was usually alone in his room reading or sitting with his family after dinner.
Like most young men, he desired what he thought he was missing, and on those few occasions when he travelled with his father to Carse or Tulan, he did have an encounter with a serving girl or one of the town girls. He found the experience enjoyable and worth the time, but essentially empty.
It wasn’t until he met Stephané that he realized what was missing. Once when a friend had been rejected by a girl he had asked his father about it, and remembered the reply. ‘He’ll get over it,’ said his father. ‘But to speed it along, he needs to know that pain will come. The knack is to not engage the pain, not hold on to it like a treasured thing, but to simply let it pass through and wait until it’s gone. It will come less frequently and after a time, be gone.’
Most of the time since coming to Rillanon he had been too busy to dwell on loving a woman he could never have as his wife, but it was in these quiet moments when something reminded him of her that he got an ache in his chest he could not shed. He refused to let his mind drift into self-pity or pointless longing, but the emptiness lingered. He tried to follow his father’s advice and simply let thoughts of Stephané pass through him, but they didn’t. They lingered and tormented him.
He drifted off to a fitful doze, his mind floating through various thoughts and images. He missed his father, and wished he could talk to him about so many things, especially how best to serve his now smashed duchy and the Kingdom. And about Stephané …
He felt a hand on his shoulder. ‘Sir, it’s your post.’ Hal blinked and found one of the Bas-Tyra soldiers waking him. Blinking and feeling completely unrested, he said, ‘Thank you.’
Ty was already awake and moving toward the horse line. When Hal caught up with him Ty said, ‘Rough night?’
‘Yes. Couldn’t sleep.’
Ty said nothing. He had travelled enough with Hal to know that the young duke was an experienced enough soldier to grab sleep anywhere, so this was unusual.
‘Something up?’
Hal shook his head. ‘Just things getting to me, I expect. Once we reach Salador I’m neck-deep in these politics and that’s a place I’d rather not be.’
‘I don’t envy you,’ said Ty. He quickly inspected his tack and said, ‘I’ll take the west side.’
Hal nodded. He glanced skyward and took note of the position of the stars and the setting two moons, Small Moon and Middle Moon. Large Moon rose with the sun this time of year. ‘We have two hours, then let’s saddle up and get an early start.’
Ty nodded and moved off to the west side of the camp.
Sentry duty was as mind-numbing a chore as a soldier could endure, yet it was vital. A man coming awake is not as effective a soldier as one already on his feet, weapon in hand and alert. It was conventional wisdom among every author on the subject of war
that Hal had read that attacking in the early morning hours was the most effective tactic in a surprise attack. Men were either still sleeping or just rising and did not have their wits about them. Those attacking had the advantage of resting before the assault, and Hal knew enough as a student of warcraft to know that sometimes a battle turned on one side or the other having only the slightest advantage.
He remembered reading an account of the battle for Krondor when the Kingdom seized its first foothold on the Bitter Sea, ages before. Krondor had been a mere hill fort, stone and wood palisades surrounding a basic town of wattle-and-daub houses. But it had been well defended and could be resupplied from the sea.
The battle had begun and became a useless siege, and in the end the leader of the attacking Kingdom forces, Prince Leontin, brother to the king and the Duke of Salador, had led a sunrise attack on the last day. By noon it appeared as if the attack had been successfully repulsed, as the attackers withdrew, but a small fire had started, not in the wood of the rampart but in a small clump of brush in the surrounding trench at the foundation of the rampart, and suddenly three timbers collapsed. Prince Leontin saw that gap and turned his forces and hit it with everything he had, and by sundown the Kingdom possessed Krondor.
The Kingdom of the Isles had its foothold in the Bitter Sea because a bush caught on fire.
That lesson had stuck with Hal while others had not. He and his father had discussed it and his father had been clear on this one subject: the battle plan must remain fluid, changing from the instant you make contact with the enemy. It was the commander who could best adapt and respond on the spur of the moment who would emerge victorious.
Hal peered into the night, trying to imagine what he would be doing now if the war had never begun. He and his brothers would still be in bed asleep, but within two hours or so they would be dressing to break fast with their parents.
That life seemed a thousand years away.
Hal heard something. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he knew it was something out of the ordinary. He snapped his fingers loudly, and Ty turned to look at him from the other side of the camp. Hal pointed twice towards the origination of the sound, then once in a circle motion around the camp, then he made a downward pushing motion with his hand, and Ty nodded that he understood.
Ty awoke each man quietly, motioning for silence, and within a minute the camp was up and armed. Hal motioned to Captain Reddic that he was going out to take a look, and indicated that a soldier named Minton should accompany him, knowing from conversations along the trail that the lanky, redheaded soldier had been a practised hunter and tracker before enlisting.
A quick move through a gap in the brush at the far end of the camp put them outside the perimeter. Hal and the soldier quietly circled around, moving towards the source of the sound, weapons at the ready.
The trees were sparse in that direction and the lines of sight fairly clear, despite the darkness, but there was nothing to be seen. As Hal was about to return to the camp, he heard a noise, faint but unmistakable. A horse’s snort and the faint rattling of a bridle. Hal pointed and motioned for Minton to make a circular approach from the opposite direction.
After a minute, he heard someone riding away. The soldier reached Hal a few moments later and Hal said in low tones, ‘Someone led their mount this way. Then when they thought they were safely away, they mounted up.’
Minton knelt and looked around in the dim moonlight. ‘I can’t be sure until dawn, sir, but I’m pretty sure that’s the mark of a boot heel next to your toe.’
‘Let’s get back to camp.’
They hurried back. ‘One rider, scouting us for certain, road off to the south,’ said Hal.
Ty raised an eyebrow in question, and Hal said quietly, ‘I think we leave early.’
Ty nodded once and Captain Reddic said, ‘As everyone’s up, let’s be out of here as soon as we can. If someone is expecting us down the road, let’s surprise them by being early.’ He pointed to the soldier Hal had been scouting with. ‘Minton, I want you down the road now. Quiet as you can, and back here the second you see anything I need to know.’
‘Captain!’ said the man and hurried to saddle up his horse.
‘Cold meal,’ said Reddic, ‘and in the saddle when the eastern sky turns grey.’
Men hurried to follow orders and grab what they could to eat while getting ready to ride. Hal came to the captain and said, ‘I think we’ll ride along with you for a bit longer.’
‘Always glad for the extra swords, my lord,’ Reddic said softly. Nodding at Ty, he added, ‘If I remember right, would that be the young man who bested you at the last championship at the Masters’ Court?’
‘Yes,’ said Hal. ‘That’s Ty Hawkins.’
With a smile, the captain said, ‘Well, Ruthia smiles on me, for if I’m gaining two extra swords, the two finalists at the Masters’ Court is all I could ask for.’
‘I hope we don’t disappoint,’ said Hal.
‘Rider coming!’ shouted the horseman taking point. Instead of their usual place at the tail of the column, Ty and Hal were now riding directly behind the captain.
‘It’s Minton,’ said Reddic.
‘Looks like he’s in a hurry,’ said Ty, drawing his sword.
‘I don’t see anyone behind him,’ said Hal, motioning for his friend to put his weapon away.
Minton pulled in his mount at the last moment, and the horse almost squatted, it came to a halt so fast. The soldier turned and pointed down the road. ‘About a mile that way, Captain, they’re waiting for us.’
‘How many?’
‘About thirty-five, maybe forty. They scouted us, for certain. I found tracks between our camp and where they’re waiting, just off the road. Followed them and got above them.’
‘Any idea of who they are?’ asked Hal.
‘No uniforms, tabards, or banners, sir,’ said Minton to his captain. ‘But they’re organized and their position is as good as you’d want.’
‘Archers?’ asked Reddic.
‘Couldn’t see any, but that doesn’t mean some of those lads don’t have horse bows.’
‘Can we get in behind them?’ asked Reddic.
Minton grinned. ‘As a matter of fact, I believe we can.’
Hal said, ‘Captain, do you have any bowmen?’
‘Four,’ answered the captain. ‘I know what you’re going to suggest.’ He turned to Minton. ‘You said you got above them. Good location for archers.’
‘Once they get to it, yes, sir, but those ambushers will see them if they set up before the fighting starts.’
‘I don’t care,’ said the captain. ‘If they have archers, I want someone to take them out before they turn around and see us coming from behind.’
Hal said, ‘If you’re going to do that, you’re going to need someone coming up that road, to hold their attention.’
‘What are you thinking?’
Hal smiled. ‘They’ll need to see your point, a man in a Bas-Tyra tabard, so what I’m thinking is, they do see your point rider and a lot of dust a half-mile behind.’
‘Couple of riders dragging brush?’ said the captain.
Hal nodded.
‘Sound idea.’
Ty threw Hal a sceptical look. ‘And I suppose we’re the ones volunteering to drag brush?’
Hal grinned. ‘And miss the fun?’
‘Oh, in that case …’ Ty shrugged.
The captain motioned Minton away, giving them privacy. ‘Actually, I was going to suggest you and your friend do just that.’ He lowered his voice. ‘I would have a problem if anything …’ He left the thought unfinished.
‘As you really have no idea who we are, Captain, how could you have a problem?’ asked Hal. He leaned close. ‘Right now I need to know why this ambush is being set for your men. I need one of those men up ahead alive. Preferably more.’
‘Yes, my lord. Just try to not die under my command, please?’
Ty had to stifle a laugh.
The captain detailed three men to act as point and brush-draggers, instructing them to wait for half an hour then start down the road. To the point rider he said, ‘If these bastards have half the wits the gods gave cattle, they’ll wait until you ride through to hit what they think will be the full column. If you see any sign of them, ride straight ahead where we will be waiting behind them.’ He turned and yelled, ‘Mount up!’
‘Sir!’ came the reply as the riders followed orders.
Ty and Hal were only a moment behind, and when everyone was formed up, Captain Reddic shouted, ‘Minton! Lead the way.’
‘Sir!’ answered the scout and he set off at a posting trot until the column was moving behind, then took his horse to a canter.
Hal glanced at the lightening sky in the east and realized the false point rider and ‘column’ would be leaving exactly as the sun rose, which would have them arriving at the ambush when expected. He glanced over at his companion.
‘You’re having too much fun,’ said Ty.
Hal could not resist a laugh. ‘After all the politics and skulking around, the hiding and dodging, I’m ready for a stand-up fight.’
‘As I said, too much fun.’
They left the road a short time later and moved up a dry river bed, overgrown with enough brush that it was clear the river that once had run here had shifted its course years before. Minton said, ‘Captain, we need to leave the horses here.’
Everyone dismounted and tied up their mounts. Minton pointed to some tracks. ‘This is where I found they’d left the road. Good thing, too, or I’d have ridden right into them.’ To the captain and everyone behind, Minton said, ‘From now on, hand signals only.’
Captain Reddic reached into his belt pouch and said, ‘Muffle your scabbards.’ He removed a thick piece of cloth, lifted his sword, wrapped the cloth around the blade, then pushed down on the hilt. The blade now would not betray his position by clanking.
Hal and Ty were given cloth by a pair of soldiers and followed the captain’s example. The soldiers then dropped all their other gear where they stood – packs and belt-pouches – so that nothing would rattle, then secured their round shields to their backs, till they looked like a bunch of black-and-gold turtles.