Chapter Fourteen
Braden
I heard Fionn giving orders to his men, though I wasn’t sure what he was saying as he spoke in their language. Still, I could tell from the impassioned looks on the faces of his bloodthirsty officers as they rushed off to prepare that he was sending them off to battle.
Being with so many Sidhe soldiers over the past few days on this journey to Gorias had taught me well.
Nothing made them as happy as the promise of bloodshed.
Unless it was killing and maiming and risking their lives.
The possibility of a glorious death in battle made them all fairly giddy with excitement.
As for Fionn, who was no different, he turned to face me, with a hard yet resolute look on his face.
He seemed fully prepared to put me in my place and tell me in no uncertain terms that my coming with him was non-negotiable.
I think I surprised him when I said, “Be sure Bramble is well padded and barded. But not so much as to cause her to get overheated. And take care of yourself and try not to get hurt, please.”
His eyebrows rose in surprise at my comment, surprised I suppose that I knew about barding horses or was concerned about his welfare. He had forgotten that I had been a mercer, well-versed in any use of textiles. As for caring about him—it seemed as if he’d forgotten about a lot of things.
(Barding evolved from war, of course, dear reader.
This was long before the jousts—those idiotic “games” played by medieval knights and their kings from around the 14th Century on.
In those times, contrary to popular belief, most knights were bandits, mercenaries, highwaymen, and thieves, even if they were nobility.
Nobles had no real work, so they played at being lawless brigands.
However, the Faery knights of the time I speak of were more than 500 years away from these knights.
They took the practice of armoring themselves and their horses quite seriously.
Well-trained warhorses were incredibly valuable, well-loved and well-treated by those who rode them, which made them obvious targets.
Knights like my lord and his cavalry men used heavily-padded, quilted cloth and leather, instead of metal.
Leather-plated brigandine-like chain mail provided heavy padding to protect their beloved mounts as well as themselves from arrows, halberds and flails and other crippling weapons.
This practice was called barding, which had also led to horses dying from becoming far too hot under all the padding, in addition to the regular heat of battle.
Battles could be long, dangerous and bloody for all concerned.)
Fionn gazed at me for a long time, as if carefully weighing his words. Finally, he gave a curt nod. “You’ll be able to see to Bramble yourself. You’re coming with us.”
To say I was shocked would be a huge understatement. He’d told me only recently in no uncertain terms that I would stay clear of battle and never be allowed to participate. A grim expression still haunted his face, but he allowed a slight upturning of his lips to reassure me.
“Well, I can’t very well leave you here alone, can I?
Nor can I let you travel home by yourself, and I can’t spare the soldiers to take you.
But you’ll stay well back when the fighting starts and follow my every order.
You will not engage and only use your sword as a last effort of defense.
I’ll have guards around you at all times to ensure your safety. ”
“All right,” I said very agreeably, I thought, but he looked at me with a suspicious frown.
“Why are you suddenly so willing to do as I say?”
“It’s not sudden. I always do what you tell me to do.”
He made a scoffing sound but didn’t engage in further argument, as he took my arm to lead me off the dais. “We need to get ready. Take a change of clothing if you like, in case yours is stained or torn. Wear your brigandine under your cloak and bring your new sword.”
“I will.”
We hurried off to get ready and fetch our horses, still under guard back at our camp.
Of course, I wondered at his change of heart, but I didn’t want to question it too much, because I was afraid he’d change his mind about letting me go at all if he thought too much about it and decided to leave me behind after all.
By the time we’d watered and prepared the horses and got ourselves and our weapons ready, almost two hours had passed.
We found Tadgh was impatiently waiting for us near the middle of the city, still surrounded by well-wishers.
His wounds, though luckily not serious, had been patched up, and he’d been given food and ale to strengthen him.
His horse had been swapped out for one belonging to the Goriana stables and though he was reluctant to leave his animal behind, it was for the best. His poor horse had suffered many small wounds and overheating.
The stablemen were still busy working on him, but he wouldn’t be returning with us. Fionn said he’d recover.
Bramble was dancing a little beneath me in excitement and overstimulation at the crowd around her.
My beautiful mare was anxious to get moving, as was I.
I bent down to whisper in her ear in an effort to soothe her.
Beside me, my lord and his mount seemed much calmer, but then his horse was more used to battle than Bramble.
I thought she’d be fine once we finally got started.
Soon after, I had my wish, and we rode through the gates, our own army, along with dozens of Gorian soldiers.
At least a third of those that rode with us, my lord explained to me, were veterans who were part of the standing army of Gorias.
The rest were ardent new recruits, faithful to their tribe and eager to fight with their new king.
What these men may have lacked in experience, they more than made up for in enthusiasm.
We set out, with many of the Gorians marching and our Murian soldiers on horseback, toward the portal that would take us to the kingdom of Falias, where the ogres were rampaging.
Fionn had told me that the ogres had become a greater problem in recent months, and no one knew exactly why attacks by them were on the rise in the mortal world and even in the Elven realm.
Up until now, the Sidhe had rarely been bothered by them.
Ogres were often even paid mercenaries for the Sidhe and the Elves, but now, they didn’t seem to be working for anyone except themselves.
There was a portal not far from the Goriana city gates and located in the deepest, darkest part of the forest near Gorias.
It looked like any other dense thicket as we approached it, but the others seemed to recognize the place right away.
Much as before, when I’d first gone through a portal, we rode straight into it.
The thicket seemed dense and full, but it parted easily as we approached to let us through.
We rode in single-file, followed by all those marching.
There was a faint glow leading us forward in the darkness as we rode toward the end of the tunnel-like portal.
At that point I was riding near the head of the line, close to my lord, though we hadn’t spoken in a while.
As we began to come out of the darkness, he let his horse fall back beside mine and rode close to me, though he was still quiet and watchful of our surroundings.
Many of the other men were making their way through the portal, and the knights on horseback waited for them to gather on the other side of it before moving forward.
By the time they had all finally made it through, it was growing late, and we went only a short distance before deciding to stop for the night.
We were mindful of the urgency to arrive at the city, but it would be impossible to find our way in the dark, and there was little sense in arriving exhausted long after midnight.
We made a rough camp, lit some fires and wrapped up in our bedrolls to try and grab a few hours of rest before dawn.
I was comfortable enough, wrapped as I was in my lord’s arms, my head pillowed on his shoulder.
Yet I still lay awake for a long time, thinking about the battle that would come the next day.
When I was awakened at sunrise by a hard shake, I still felt groggy and didn’t want to roll out of my blankets into the cold.
By the time I finally got my eyes open and pulled myself together, Fionn was already up and about, standing by the campfire and drinking a cup of what I assumed to be hot tea and talking to his captain.
I got to my feet and went over to join them, and Fionn immediately offered me the rest of his cup.
I disliked the taste of tea, but I drank it down gratefully in the hope it would warm me up a bit.
I looked around and found the air in the rough camp was heavy with the smell of smoke and horse dung.
The camp looked disorderly to me, with various clusters of men still in their bedrolls and campfires pitched at random intervals, some of them far too close to the sleeping men.
Captain Darragh was gesturing toward the layout of the camp now with a disgusted look and was obviously complaining about it to Fionn. Fionn was nodding in agreement.
“Yes, yes, Darragh, I know. And when we make a proper camp, I’ll let you have full rein. But most of these people are volunteers and unused to army discipline. We don’t have time for recriminations now. Help me rouse them all and let’s get on our way. We need to be at Fethalos by midday.”