Book 6, Chapter 28: Early Morning Fog
Silence wrapped a protective blanket around me until Serce’s voice penetrated in, “Why would this military force want you, Princess Cayce?”
“Empress. Empress Cayce.”
“And how do they know you’re here?”
Closed my eyes, focused on not clenching my hands. I could almost feel their stares on my skin. How much to tell was ever the problem. Too much, and he’d figure it out. Though I only had answers for one of those questions.
Opened my eyes to Serce alone, and said, “Clear the tent.”
The men looked to him, he gave a quick nod, black hair barely moving, and one by one they left. The young general flashed me a slight smile, mischief in his eyes. Huh.
A few minutes passed. “Well, Cayce?”
“Immortality.”
“What?”
“That’s what they want me for. They believe I can provide it to them.”
“Can you?”
I gave him a head tilt and a bit of a frown. “Are you asking for yourself?”
“The soldiers,” he walked over to me, much taller, set a hand on the table, “told me what they saw you do. Melt metal, melt the very ground you stood on, destroy mountains.” With his other hand, he touched my shoulder. “All I’ve seen you do is run giggling down a hallway and drink a lot of wine at dinner. If you can really do these things, Cayce, why not go out and stop them? Melt their weapons from here.”
His touch wasn’t unwelcome, but I was uncomfortable, maybe deeply. I lifted his hand off the table, taking it in both of mine, looking into his light purple eyes, “I did all of that before knowing who I was, before remembering the divinity within, and when I released that power, only the mages could stop me. Not me, I didn’t want to. I would have killed all your soldiers and not just the tens of thousands I did and then started on the cities of Ketzle. There are no wizards to stop me now, Serce. I killed them all and sent them to an afterlife of punishment.”
He blinked. Took a breath. Looked away. “You would rather be given to that army than defeat them?”
“What I want doesn’t matter. I need to take the mage to the temple.”
“Then vanish off to the temple. The mages could do it, move from one place to another instantly.”
What would happen, I wondered, were I to call the beautiful horse Sleipnir? Then Talaren and I could fly to the temple. Or I could simply mount him and get away from this world, return to my own, though it had become no friend to gods long ago, leave these people to the problems of their own making. Or chase down Tye, the former grand magister, and rip my divinity out of his flesh. Tempting. But what if Sleipnir refused to come?
“I must do things as I must.”
He slid his hand from my shoulder up my neck, to cup my cheek, “You appear no more than the girl I knew last year.”
Shivers ran down my spine, the first time I’d been touched in weeks, I closed my eyes against his warm palm, “I fear the day you test me.”
“It appears we will be at war shortly.” His hand slipped off and he turned away, to the map. “And no mage, as I’d hoped.”
I went around to the other side of the table, putting some distance between us. “What’s the real reason you came with only fifty thousand troops?”
“I told you, this was to be an exchange and nothing more.”
Shaking my head, “No, I don’t think so. I hurt Laemacia more than you’re letting on. You don’t have more troops, do you?” Suddenly lightheaded, I held onto the table tightly, and I whispered out, “How many? How many did I kill?”
“Here,” he was suddenly beside me, putting a cup to my lips. “Wine. You’re pale, this will help.”
I almost laughed but sipped anyways, taking the cup from him. The wine helped a bit but so did not thinking about that awful day. I tried to focus, he was talking.
“. . . and tomorrow, you will take the mage and return to Laemacia to the palace.”
Whatever he said earlier was lost to time, so I answered the last, “I keep telling you, I need to take him to the temple.”
“The army is going to do exactly what General Gobryas said, they’ll go around and cut us off. After the battle starts, when it becomes apparent they cannot defeat us here. I would very much like you to take my orders to the generals of my reserve troops. They’ll march down from Laemacia and cut off the enemy’s movement. We’ll hit them from both sides and remove their threat to you and our lands. From there, you can take a contingent of soldiers to the temple.”
“Why do you need me to take orders there? If you can spare that many troops, I’ll head straight for the Temple with the mage. Though,” I said, feeling a little embarrassed, “I would like to see how the enemy army attacks.” I wanted to learn whether they really were fighting Mongolian style, for that would require different preparations to my own armies.
Serce backed up a bit, putting a little distance between us, saying, “You are what they’re after, so we remove you from the battlefield. They therefore cannot succeed in their goals. Second, it won’t take them long to realize they need to change the battlefield itself. In fact, they’re likely considering that option even now. You’ll have to leave in the early morning, before sunrise.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“How large is their army?”
“Your scouts said seventy thousand or so.”
“And that means we don’t know for sure. How many armies do they have?”
“You think they’re waiting for me at the temple?”
“Do they know you need to go there?”
“It’s also where they want to take me.” I deflated a bit then, gave into the wine and had more, then said in a low voice, “And they will want to hold it.” No idea why I didn’t think of that before. They’ll want to reinforce the Temple, fortify it, maybe set up a castle and residence. And their lands were further east. “Serce, they need to conquer Laemacia to hold that temple.”
“In that case, they’re already marching another army on my capital. And probably have a smaller one around the temple, preparing. I need you to go deliver my orders, send out our reserves, and prepare the garrison. Even though you want, excuse me, need to go to the Temple, it’s clear you cannot. We must defeat the bulk of their forces first.”
“No, I should head to Breadamont and rally my own army. Serce, you don’t want to hear this, but my army is vastly stronger than yours. The weapons we have, we can defeat this army easily.”
“If you are to be Empress, you need to lead Laemacia. Leave her at this time and you’ll imperil your reign. Though your kingdom’s armies would be welcome. So tonight, you and I are writing many messages. We’ll send them in the morning with all possible haste.”
“Messages.” I tapped the table, “Messages.” It didn’t feel like enough. “I don’t like the idea of running away from a battle.”
“Do I really have to comment on that?”
“Just call the generals in. Let’s skip straight to the war planning stage.”
***
No longer night, not quite morning, I stood wondering what to wear, the dress before me or to call for armor. Safer with armor. But that would give up my hand. The same with asking for weapons. Those, at least, I could take from any would be attacker. Looking at the dress one more time, I sighed, and donned it.
Serce’s voice from outside the tent, “May I enter?”
Hurriedly pulling up stockings, I said, “Please do.”
Pushing apart the door, coming in, he dropped horse packs on a side table, causing the candles to flicker, shadows dancing upon a yellow canvas. “The messages. One set for you, another set to go with a messenger, just in case.”
“That makes sense, but if one of us gets caught, I hope it’s the other guy.”
“Indeed. What would happen if you get caught?”
“I don’t follow. They imprison me, I guess?”
“Should I worry? Can they induce you to use your magic? Can they turn you into a weapon through coercion?”
I tried not to imagine how Serce would use that information, and tried to get the images out of my head of all the times I’d been held captive, while forcing my feet into riding tall riding boots. Pushing and pushing, and with a grunt, I got them on.
“Princess Cayce?”
“Let’s just make sure that doesn’t happen. How many men are you sending? And it’s Empress.” I put on a backpack, filled with rations for the journey, and headed toward him.
Serce took the horse bags up, leaving the tent in front of me.
Late summer, it was cooling, but not chilly. A fog had settled in, mist lifting from the ground, reducing visibility considerably. I could just make out the nearest edge of the phalanx formed up, some space away but facing the tree line, their tower shields covering most of their body, spears up. Cavalry waited nearer still, ready to ride through the space between the spears and the woods, if the enemy breeched the forest.
Serce led me to a couple large horses, tossing the saddle bags atop one, and strapping them down. “One hundred cavalry, my finest, divided into archers and spearmen. Two horses for each man and,” he turned toward me, taking my hand, “my lady. Now-”
“We wait. Yes. How long do you think the scouting parties will be?”
“If not soon, then we are under attack.”
To my right, down the line of phalanx, shouts of men rang out, and the sounds of metal on metal. I inadvertently walked forward, toward the sound, but Serce put his hand on my shoulder.
Enemy cavalry raced toward us, down the funnel created by the phalanx and the trees. They nocked and loosed, nocked and loosed, arrow after arrow into the spearmen, and all I saw were arrows being deflected. Then a horseman took an arrow from the phalanx direction, slumping off his horse. Arrow after arrow flew straight from our side into the light cavalry as they rode by.
The young general’s voice rang out, “Now!” and our spear wielding cavalry charged to meet the harassed horse archers.
It was a relief. These were no Mongols.
“Archers between the phalanx, five men wide and deep,” said Serce. “All those light cavalry are accomplishing amounts to nothing – Cayce, they come!” He pointed over my shoulder, “The scouts! Come, allow me to help you mount.”
Squinting, I could just make out the dark horses galloping toward us, the lead man waving a yellow flag, the signal that the trail was safe. But for the battle raging to our left and right.
“Time for you to go, Cayce. We will hold and I will see you again at the palace.”
He held me steady as I mounted the charger. I squeezed his hand, “Thank you, Serce. I’ll see these safely delivered and return with reinforcements.”
“Ride with luck and speed. And Cayce? You’ll be Princess to me until we are wed.”
I smiled, trying not to roll my eyes, “You’re a handsome man, oh Prince Serce, but we’re never getting married.”
He smiled much more warmly, “You’ll change your mind at the palace. Off you go!” And he slapped the horse’s rear, sending me off, making me wonder if he’d really wished to slap my rear.
The fog swirled around us as we galloped away. At our lead were flag bearers, holding the poles forward, like lances, and not aloft, but I couldn’t see the front of the line for the fog. The messenger carrying the duplicated missives rode with them. Then, a mixture of cavalry with spears and bows, me in the middle, more cavalry behind. We’d go at speed for as long as the horses could, then switch to the relatively fresh ones, slowing at that point.
As we raced through the meadow, breaking the white haze only to be engulfed in it anew, if not for the loping gallop of the horse it looked like only the ground moved. Coming nearer and nearer the far tree line, the hooves of riders ahead echoed back at us. And from the side, I strained to listen.
“Ride!” someone called ahead, “Ride as you can!”
Peering off to the right, searching and straining to see through the fog, it cleared for a moment. Armored men atop horses racing toward us. An arrow stirred the mist above me, leaving swirls trailing after. Then another, another.
The sound abruptly tunneling as I entered the forest, galloping along as if chasing the horseman in front of me. I heard a crash from behind and a yell and knew it was too late to turn back.
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