12
Cass
I cautiously walked along a slightly different path than the one I had taken an hour before. Despite my large size, the movement of my feet along the forest ground was nearly silent and indistinguishable from the other sounds of the forest around me. I was patrolling one of the areas along the wall that had been previously compromised but was now patched up by the King. We knew of over twenty such locations so far.
The King had explained that although he had repaired the magical hole in the wall, that area would always be a weak point, like when putty replaces what used to be a brick. I, along with a handful of my best men, monitored these weak points week after week. Others under my command were assigned to patrol the larger areas in between these points to look out for any new holes in the wall.
Our near-constant patrolling kept us out in the forest, at camps, and away from our homes. And High Lord Dumont wanted me back at the Golden Court every minute I was not out patrolling. But I’d been thinking about taking a trip back to the High Court—
I turned abruptly at the sound of a small twig snapping behind me. The hilt of my dagger was in my hand and ready to be thrown. Depending on the height of the fae who had thought to sneak up on me, the blade would either hit him in the heart or the throat. I was fine with either.
“Commander,” the man breathed out seconds before I would have thrown the blade in my hand. The man stood stock-still, eyes wide, knowing how close he had come to an iron dagger in the throat.
“Charles, man, why have you not followed protocol?” I barked, displeased that I had almost killed one of my travelers, one of the very few we had in our service.
Travelers appearing out of nowhere, and startling soldiers was a recipe for disaster. Protocol would have required him to travel at least sixty yards away from me, giving me time to identify him as not a threat.
Charles, a high fae man with blond hair pulled into a slick bun at the nape of his neck, gulped but stood his ground. “Commander, there was no time. There are Alancian soldiers, sir.”
“How many?” I barked. I would take up the issue of the traveler’s lack of discipline another time.
“Fifteen. Probably scouts,” Charles answered.
“How many of us can you take with you at one time?” I asked.
Every traveler varied on the number of people they could move, if they could even move people. Some travelers could only move objects, and all travelers varied on how far they could go, whether they could go over water or just land, and so many other aspects.
“Five,” the traveler paused. “Including you,” he said, like he had to consider whether my hulking frame might not count as two men.
“Then let’s go to camp and grab four others and be on our way,” I ordered.
We traveled to base camp and quickly located four soldiers who were ready to move.
“The odds. It’ll be three to one, sir,” Charles noted as the other men stood by. He wasn’t questioning my orders, but there was a nervousness in his manner.
“Each of you will take one Alancian. I will handle the rest,” I promised matter-of-factly.
The four soldiers and the traveler nodded in understanding. They had seen me in action enough to know that I could back up what I said. With me in the lead, they would accept being outnumbered three to one.
“How many leaps?” I asked the traveler.
The distance a traveler could go without having to stop in between varied. Depending on how far away the Alancians were spotted and Charles’s abilities, it was possible that we would have to make several stops before reaching our final destination.
“Two jumps total. Just one in between,” he replied.
“Let’s move. Now,” I ordered. “Before we lose them.”
My men—Charles, two high fae, and two lesser fae combat-trained soldiers—and I appeared in the center of the Alancian contingent. I immediately threw out one of my daggers, burying it into the left eye of a lesser fae Alancian before the Alancian soldiers had time to register our arrival. The Alancian died on impact with the iron dagger. The enchanted blade returned to my belt automatically. But I already had my broadsword out in anticipation of my next foe. My team spread out immediately, clashing with the Alancian forces.
Two Alancian fae approached me. They were lean, muscular high fae, who no doubt saw my bulky lesser fae frame and thought me slow, easy prey in such close quarters. I let them continue to close in on me until they were too close for me to use my long sword. I could see from the malicious glint in their eyes that they thought they had me.
I dunked under the blow of the first fae’s short sword, slicing his legs behind the knees with a short sword I had hidden at my back. I finished the same thrust, bringing my short sword up and under the chin of the second fae, removing his head. The fae I had chopped down struck out from the ground, slicing me on the inside of his thigh. I had felt the blade coming in time to maneuver, so that the resulting cut was shallow enough to just barely miss my femoral artery.
I stepped back toward the Alancian on the ground, kicking him in the face and knocking him unconscious. I applied my weight down, crushing his head with my boot until I felt a crunch. Then, for good measure, I came down with the stroke of my long sword, chopping the soldier’s head off.
I straightened up from decapitating the Alancian with my sword extended behind me, catching another soldier I’d heard trying to sneak up on me in the gut. I jerked the long sword up, running him through from navel to chin. So far, I had only killed four. I promised my team I’d take care of at least nine.
The remaining Alancian soldiers wisely decided to give me my space, focusing on my soldiers instead. I expertly moved the bulk of my body within the confines of the separate fights. I grabbed a man by the back of the neck, holding onto his neck firmly and then kicking out at the man’s body with such force that I was left holding a head with the neck dangling from it, the body having been propelled feet across the opening.
The few remaining fights became one chaotic melee. I took out my matching iron daggers, one in each hand, and dove at the nearest Alancian soldiers, taking two down with me. The battle was over in minutes. The casualties were absolute on the Alancian side.
“Commander, we should get you to a healer,” Charles suggested, noticing where the Alancian soldier had tried to bleed me by my femoral artery.
“It will be a scar. Nothing more,” I said, dismissing his concern. I cut away a piece of fabric from the bottom of my shirt and tied it around my thigh to staunch the bleeding. “Report,” I barked.
“No casualties, sir. All Alancians are dead. No one got away,” Charles said.
“Injuries?” I asked.
“Yes, Commander,” a soldier said, stepping up next to Charles. “Many.” His left arm hung oddly at his side.
“Get yourself and these men to a healer, and then, Charles, you come back for me,” I ordered.
In addition to the four men I had brought with me, the traveler had previously left behind one of his scouts to track the Alancian soldiers. That made six men, which was more than the traveler could take in one trip.
“Sir, I’ll stay behind,” the scout offered. Every man there offered the same.
“Go. All of you. Now. That’s an order,” I clarified.
My men knew better than to argue with a direct order. The traveler and the four other soldiers disappeared, their only trace, the dead bodies that lay under the canopy of trees around me.
I stood in the center of the first four dead men I had felled. I kicked at the contents of one of their nearby bags. And then I picked up another tote when I did not find what I was looking for. No maps. No food. Nothing to indicate any of these Alancian men were, in fact, scouts. None of them had used any ostensible magic. Fifteen seemed too big to me to be a scouting group but too small to be any attempt at a stealthy attack. The Alancian soldiers had been here for a reason, but I didn’t know what that reason was.
I had kept one of my hands near the hilt of my iron dagger the entire time. Whether it was because I had confirmed my suspicions about the spies or something else. I threw the bag in my hand down, moving one hand behind my head to grasp the longsword that hung across my back between my shoulder blades. My other hand tightened on the blade at my belt.
I turned sharply, dagger in hand, ready to throw. An instant before I released the dagger, I realized it was Charles who had popped into existence again.
“Damn it, Charles,” I growled, my grip tightening on the blade I had nearly thrown into the throat of the traveler once again.
“We are going to have to do something about your repeated failure to follow protocol, soldier,” I said sternly.
I was on edge and angry. I still felt like something was off about the entire encounter. Why were the Alancians only coming over in such small numbers? We’d made preparations, but undoubtedly, a larger force would challenge us, especially if that force included warriors with magic. We still didn’t know if the magic of the Alancians had faded along with our own.
“We’ll start with fifty laps around the camp. Notraveling,” I sentenced.
I was going to have to drill discipline into the well-meaning lord, or I was going to find myself short a traveler. Charles stood across from me, grasping his throat like he couldn’t believe a dagger wasn’t buried there.
“Did the other men make it back okay?” I asked.
“Yes, sir,” Charles replied, removing his hand from his throat and standing at attention with his hands at his side.
“Then let’s leave this place, Charles,” I said.