Chapter Nineteen The Chosen Path #2
Leah and Tomaz quickly made their way forward.
Elder Crane focused on the Prince. “I accept your loyalty, and I also understand you give it only until this crisis has passed. After it is over, we will talk more about your future. But for now, I would request that you sheath that sword and put your shirt on.”
The Prince did so quickly as the other two came within earshot.
“I have a task for the three of you,” Crane told them.
“This evacuation must be covered. You three, eshendai Davydd Goldwyn, and ashandel Lorna Lamas, will help Captain Autmaran lead a group of Scouts, Rangers, and Rogues on an ambush mission. Here”—he motioned to a point on the table, which the Prince now saw was carved to resemble an enormous map—“is where that ambush is to be set. The five of you—embedded among the larger force—will draw the Ox Lord there and dispatch the Bloodmages who are tracking you. This should leave them in confusion and force them to slow their advance, buying us time to regroup at the Stand.”
He turned to Leah and Tomaz.
“You are to serve under the tactical command of Captain Autmaran, who will lead the ambush. Eshendai Goldwyn—your brother and ashandel Lamas will be with you, and this young man here is to be used at your discretion, as you know more of his capabilities than I. Tell the captain to take five hundred Pairs and a thousand Scouts and use the passes through the backwoods once the ambush is complete. You and the captain along with whomever he chooses as eshendai and ashandel lieutenants are to report to me personally at the Stand. Go.”
With that, he turned and began to examine the map carved into the tabletop, hands folded calmly behind his back, but his shoulders holding a tension that belied a mind thinking very quickly. The three of them left the Elder, running for the door.
“I need you to get to Davydd and Lorna, Raven,” Leah said as they rushed past Elders conversing with a squad of hastily summoned officers.
“Me?” the Prince asked in surprise. She nodded and continued quickly.
“Tomaz—I need you to find the supplies and horses for those who don’t have them.
I also need the soldiers under the direct command of the captain—take care of gathering them as well.
Davydd and Lorna will have twenty or so pairs of Rangers under them on reserve here in the city—Raven, tell them to get them ready to leave within the hour.
I’m going for Captain Autmaran. We are all to meet at the northwestern entrance to the valley, from there we’ll head back toward the mountains and the ambush point Elder Crane set for us.
It should draw them away from the Stand. ”
“What in the name of shadows and light is the Stand?” the Prince asked as they bounded up the stairs.
“Aemon’s Stand,” Tomaz rumbled. “It’s where he defeated the Empress.”
The Prince stopped dead in his tracks.
“What?”
“No time for that!” shouted Leah over her shoulder. “You can ask questions later! Get to the barracks and find Davydd and Lorna!”
The two Rogues made for the door and immediately split, going in different directions without hesitation. The Prince recovered quickly, dashed out of the door, and ran back for the barracks as fast as his legs would carry him.
Defeated the Empress? Impossible!
He had no time to think about that now. Soon enough, breathing heavily, he burst through the entrance to the barracks, seized a random soldier, and asked for the way to the Ranger quarters.
The man pointed up a staircase, and the Prince hurried in that direction.
He arrived on a small landing, accosted another man, who pointed him toward Davydd’s quarters, and soon after found himself pounding like a madman on what he hoped was the right door.
“Davydd!” he roared, trying to be heard over the din of rushing soldiers around him. “Davydd, it’s Raven! Let me in!”
The door opened and Davydd came out, fully dressed in his eshendai uniform over a breastplate, leather jerkin, and bracers all tied in place.
A small golden knot of rank on the upper right side of his chest shone brightly in the light of the hall.
His valerium sword hung slung across his back, and his red eyes burned like fiery coals.
“What?” he snapped. He pushed past the Prince to cross the hall and open another door—revealing Lorna.
The Prince followed and saw that the ashandel was finishing tying her own armor in place, died a dark green color and much more extensive, crafted to take heavy beatings. The great white axe lay close at hand.
“Do you know what’s going on?” Lorna asked Davydd, ignoring the Prince.
“We’re evacuating, and rumor has it the Ox Lord is on his way.”
The Prince was amazed to see that the eshendai not only seemed unafraid of the prospect of fighting the Prince of Oxen, but even appeared excited by the idea.
“What do you want?” the big woman asked the Prince.
“I’m here with a message from Leah, via the Elder—Elder Crane.”
Both of them stopped doing up Lorna’s armor and stared at him.
“Well tell us!” the young man snapped, as if the Prince were intentionally stalling.
“We’re setting up an ambush to draw off the main force,” the Prince said. “Leah says she needs you and the twenty Ranger pairs under you to meet her at the north-west entrance to the valley within the next hour. The rest of the Kindred are evacuating to the—the Stand.”
“The Stand?” Davydd asked in surprise. He and Lorna exchanged a significant look. The red-eyed young man turned back to the Prince. “Tell Leah we’ll be there.”
The Prince turned and left the room, not quite sure what to do next. There was a sound behind him, and he turned to see Davydd walk out of the room. The young man approached, red eyes searing the air between them.
“Do they know who you are?” he asked.
The Prince swallowed, and a hundred different responses crossed his mind, from bare-faced denial to polite confusion. But in the end, he knew that the time for pretense was long past, and so he answered in earnest.
“Yes. I’ve renounced my claim to the throne and sworn myself to the Elders—to Crane—until the Prince of Oxen has been repulsed. I knew they wouldn’t believe me otherwise.”
“You did what?” Davydd asked, surprise widening those terrible glowing eyes.
“Now isn’t the time!” the Prince said, suddenly angry. “Do you want my help or not? No, I don’t care—I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this for—”
He broke off and shook his head. Davydd stepped forward, and the Prince looked up. The red-eyed young man spoke quickly.
“Fine, your reasons are your own. But my sister trusts you, and that’s enough for now. If you’re coming with us, go to the armory. Find any spare bits of armor you can. And try not to poke anyone with the sharp point of that sword, yeah?”
The Prince nodded and started hurrying away.
“Idiot!”
The Prince stopped.
“That way,” Davydd said, pointing the opposite direction before ducking back into Lorna’s room and shutting the door.
The Prince made his way quickly down to the armory, watching the sun in the sky through various windows, trying to mark how much time was passing. Ramael was closer, that was certain. But the Kindred were moving quickly, and there was a chance they would be clear of Vale before the army arrived.
When he made it to the armory, the Prince found it was a free-for-all. Armorers and blacksmiths were pounding madly at metal, their forges blazing as they did last-minute repairs for soldiers of every rank and file who were waiting anxiously.
“Spare armor over here!” a voice was bellowing. The Prince followed it into a corner, where a large-bellied blacksmith in a grimy apron with soot-stained hands and face was handing out pieces of armor to various soldiers.
“What do you need?” he asked the Prince breathlessly.
“Whatever you have,” the Prince responded. He was looking at the pile around the large man and saw that there was very little left.
“What do you already have?”
“Nothing!”
“You have no armor?” the man asked incredulously.
“No! But I’m here on Elder Crane’s orders, so I need something now!”
The man paused for a moment, and then turned and pulled out a sack from behind a counter.
“Here—take these.”
The Prince was loaded down with a leather jerkin, metal bracers and greaves, a helm that would come down to cover the back of his neck as well as the bridge of his nose, and what looked like a discarded general’s breastplate with attached cape. All of it was black.
“Black?” the Prince asked.
“An officer commissioned it and then changed his mind, so I never finished gilding it. Just be thankful I had it lying around. Next! Who’s next!”
The Prince did his best to strap all of the armor into place while making his way out into the street and toward the north-western entrance to the valley.
The entire city was moving, like some enormous anthill disturbed by a child’s insistent prodding.
Men and women hurriedly exchanged goodbyes; most of the children wore expressions of fear, and more than one was crying in the middle of the street as their parents loaded wagons, carts, and anything that could carry their possessions.
Soldiers dressed in green-and-silver uniforms rushed back and forth, organizing the evacuation and assisting with broken carts and wagons.
Carpenters worked on last-minute repairs to wheels and axles, while oxen and horses, caught in a heightened state of emotion, shied fearfully.
By the time the Prince made it to the valley entrance, a large portion of the ambush force had already gathered.
Two-thirds of those assembled were men and women with bows strapped to their backs and short swords sheathed at their waists.
They all wore thick leather armor with thin, rectangular pieces of metal sewn onto it to provide defense against light weaponry.
The other third were Rogues and Rangers, dressed in black-and-green uniforms with swords and daggers sewn into their high collars.
Some had silver accents on their armor, while others had gold, and the style varied wildly, from one slight woman who wore nothing more than embroidered leather bracers, to a large, dark-skinned man who was clad in almost a full suit of armor.
The Prince located Leah and quickly made his way toward her.
As he came closer, he saw that she was talking quite animatedly with a man mounted on a white horse.
“Just in time!” Leah cried, noticing him. She was dressed in the same armor as Davydd, though her accents were silver, and the individual pieces seemed design for dexterity more than strength. She too had a golden knot of rank on her chest.
“Who’s this? You’re a captain?” asked the man on the horse. He was dark-skinned, with a helm like the one the Prince wore and a similar breastplate and cape, but gilded in red.
“No,” the Prince explained quickly, “this was the only armor they had. I am Leah’s companion.” The man took this in stride and nodded.
“Right, the fifth one tied to the tracking spell. You two stay with the other three.”
He motioned to one of the groups on their right-hand side, and the Prince saw that Tomaz, Davydd, and Lorna were there readying their mounts. The Prince and Leah made their way over—Tomaz was holding the reins of the horses they’d taken from the Defenders.
“Going to a funeral, princeling?” Tomaz asked, noticing the Prince’s black armor.
“I certainly hope not,” he said, mounting his horse. He was surprised to find that it was fairly easy to move in the armor.
“Let’s go!” cried the man in the red cape and armor. “Pass the word for anyone left behind to meet us on the road!”
The captain turned and rode out of the gate, a pair of Rogues that the Prince didn’t know flanking him. The force of Rogues, Rangers, and Scouts, over a thousand strong even without those not yet there, rode after him.
“We should make it in time!” the Prince called to the others over the noise.
“What?”
“We should make it in time! Ramael will follow us! The plan might work!”
“Scared, princeling?” Leah asked.
“Oh, I think he’s properly terrified!” Davydd shouted over the thunder of the horses’ hooves. The Prince saw again the manic glint in the young man’s eye, a look of demented excitement.
“You’re insane not to be!” the Prince called back.
“We’re about to ambush the Prince of Oxen!” Tomaz boomed. “We have a bare fraction of his force, we have had no time to prepare or properly outfit the majority of our force, and we’re racing blindly. At this point, I think we’re all insane!”
“Exciting, isn’t it!” Davydd shouted, grinning widely.