Bloodstone - Power of Youth (Book 3) (12 page)

Chapter Fourteen

~

A horn bellowed through South Keep.
Anchor held up his hand and stopped his sparring. He splashed water on his sweating torso and wiped down before running to his quarters to don armor and the rest of his weapons. He hated the thought of fighting his fellow soldiers, but Travelwell’s men would assist the invaders in taking over Gensler.

He met Lunkin on the parapet. An enemy force of four or five hundred soldiers marched toward the keep. They looked like a rabble of mercenaries. Anchor figured that they were at least a mile away and wouldn’t arrive at the keep for another hour.

“It’s time, Lunkin,” Anchor said. “Get our men on the gate if they aren’t there already. Be prepared to destroy the bridge.”

Lunkin smiled. “We’ve been waiting for Travelwell’s hand to be forced for some time. I have already sent loyal men into River Red to take care of the bridge as well.” His intense gaze made Anchor uncomfortable. The time for ultimate trust had come.

“Very well. The men are ready to defend themselves?”

“From within and,” he nodded his head towards the advancing force, “without. Time to stand up for Duke Jellas and Gensler.”

“For Gensler and Besseth!” Anchor said knowing that the foes they fought were intent on attacking the entire continent. He drew his sword.

“You are much improved, sir. I remember when you arrived; any man could take you down. Now you fight like a proper warrior.”

Anchor grunted more than laughed. “I used to be in a position where my talents came from my mind not my muscles. Today, the mind is important, but my strength will ultimately save me.”

“Here’s to strength,” Lunkin slid his sword out of his scabbard. “We are ready and are behind you.”

Anchor nodded. He felt naked standing between his enemies in the keep and outside. He’d never been tested in actual battle and his continual work to improve his weapons skills had only taken place on the practice field. As Unca, he’d never physically fought another soldier with steel weapons. His palms started to sweat. No spells could save the day here in the keep. He walked down the stairs after taking one last glance at the approaching army. Not much of an army, but enough to even the odds inside the keep with the loyalists.

He swung the sword to loosen up his muscles, but stopped. He had just come from sparring and now just exhibited his nerves or lack of. Nevertheless, he still walked with the naked steel blade before him into the darker confines of the keep’s main building.

Travelwell and two of his lieutenants still adjusted their armor. The Captain looked tense as he made eye contact with his men. “How long before our visitors arrive?”

“I’d say an hour or a bit less. I have already dispatched men to remove the bridge to the keep and to River Red.”

The captain furrowed his brow. “What if these men are friendly? No. We will let them in and see what they are about.”

“As the strategist, I must say that would be a grave mistake. They come from the Red Kingdom or Happly—neither of which is friendly to Gensler. We must assume that they are belligerents.”

“Fancy word, Anchor. No. I overrule you. We will let them in.”

The time had come to expose Travelwell’s plan.

“I suggest that you look at them from the wall.”

“As you wish.” Travelwell made a final tug to his armor and led the way out of the building into the sunshine.

Anchor stopped the captain mid-way to the wall. “There is no messenger announcing the arrival of these men. That is standard protocol throughout Besseth, isn’t it?”

Travelwell laughed. “Of course it is. This unit just has an inattentive commander.”

Anchor spotted Lunkin and nodded. “Troops coming to occupy the keep. If traitors led them, they wouldn’t bother announcing themselves either, wouldn’t you say?”

The captain sputtered and turned red. “Why do you think that?”

“A little bird told me, Captain Travelwell. It said, ‘Duke’s demise soon. Prepare to open gates to friends.’  The message was addressed to you.” Anchor lifted his sword. “I destroyed the bird and forwarded the message on to Duke Jellas.”

One of Travelwell’s lieutenant’s hands went to his sword and began to pull it out. “You!” the subordinate said.

“That’s all I needed to know.” Anchor’s sword descended on the lieutenant’s wrist. The sword slid back into the scabbard as Anchor made a backhanded slash at the man’s throat. Anchor’s universe shrunk to an area within a few paces, just like he had been taught on the practice field. He growled and quickly stepped back as he faced the Captain and the other lieutenant.

They drew their swords. Anchor snarled as his emotions rose up. “Traitor!” he said to Travelwell and nodded at the lieutenant. “You can lay down your arms or fight. Lunkin and I have the ranks and the rest of the officers prepared.”

“What do you know?” the captain said. He sneered and that made Anchor smile.

“Sneer and snarl. I’ve yet to spar with you, Captain. Perhaps this might be an appropriate time.”

Travelwell thrust at Anchor. An easy parry, but Travelwell’s fighting partner slashed as well. His sword slid along Anchor’s armor and caught on the wrist guard of his left arm. The steel bit into his flesh, but not too deeply, Anchor hoped. He jumped away from the two and vaguely noticed the sounds of fighting began to swell as he continued to parry and slash. He had to move around to keep them both from confronting him.

He thrust at the lieutenant’s face and slipped through the man’s parry. The tip of his sword bit flesh as it drew across the man’s face while Anchor pulled his blade back. He barely had time to notice the blood rushing through the man’s fingers as he backed away from the fight.

“It looks like I get you all to myself,” the captain said.

Anchor’s wrist began to ache as the adrenaline that had powered the beginning of his fight began to ebb. He thrust at Travelwell and the captain laughed at the easy parry. That’s all Anchor needed him know as he turned to the side and slashed at the captain while he hid pulling out his knife with his eyes locked onto his opponents’.

The captain didn’t seem to notice as Anchor squared up again and repeated the thrust. As the captain’s face began to smile again, Anchor quickly closed and slipped the knife in underneath Travelwell’s cuirass. His opponent gasped and dropped his sword. Anchor twisted and drove the knife all the way into his body. Travelwell fell, clutching his stomach. Anchor kicked the Captain to the courtyard below.

The captain’s fall didn’t immediately stop the fighting. Anchor held onto the knife. His hand and arm were bloody from his own wound as well as Travelwell’s blood. Three loyal officers fought to his side and the four of them faced the remainder of Travelwell’s leadership. Anchor’s wrist ached, but he soon lost himself in the struggle to defend himself. It seemed that all of Travelwell’s men fought to kill him.

“It’s over!” Lunkin said as he grabbed Anchor’s good wrist. His last opponent threw down his sword.

A crossbow bolt slammed into Anchor’s shoulder. “Not again,” he said as he collapsed to the bloody ground.

He had to endure the indignity of being moved by Lunkin, and now sat on the side of the stone stairway, in the shade, as a healer wrapped his shoulder.

“A lot of good armor does,” the healer said. “The ranker shot you from across the yard. If he’d been closer, it would have punched right through your shoulder, leather and all, sir. As it is, your shoulder blade stopped the point. It’s probably fractured again.”

The ache filled Anchor’s mind. “We won?”

“We did, sir,” Lunkin said. “Do you want us to sally?”

“Sally? I miss that woman,” Anchor said through a haze of pain. He said it before he realized what Lunkin asked

“Who’s Sally?” Lunkin smiled as he furrowed his brow.

“A woman, I know.” Anchor managed to put his right hand on Lunkin’s shoulder and grinned. “Do we have enough soldiers?”

Lunkin grinned. “We do indeed sir. If we hurry, we’ll meet them in a loop of the river. We’ll pin ‘em in and make them pay.

“We will, sir,” said Gasso, the only other sub-captain who had joined in at Anchor’s side after Travelwell had been taken care of.

“Then please do. If you can capture an officer or two as well as a few enlisted men, then let the rest run. We need information more than their deaths, not to mention less of our men injured. There’s a lot more fighting to come.” Anchor tried to get up, but became dizzy.

“Loss of blood, sir. You rest a bit,” the healer said.

Anchor relaxed and slid back down.

“Drink this. It will ease the pain, now that you’re all bandaged up.”

Anchor complied and drifted off with the thought that the healer had put more than pain reliever into that draft.

~

Travelwell looked up from his bed. Anchor felt better after a few days rest, but he doubted that Travelwell did. The man had just come out of a coma. The healer had told him, the man wouldn’t last more than two or three days.

“Why the betrayal?” Anchor said as he took a seat next to the bed. He couldn’t lean back with his shoulder and had to lay his bandaged wrist on his lap.

“Eberlo. He’ll make a better duke than the effete Jellas.”

“The effete Jellas just survived the assassination attempt and your man Eberlo no longer lives.”

Travelwell coughed and winced as he clutched his stomach with one hand and the sheet with his other. “The Dakkoran wizard promised him Gensler.”

“Peleor?”

Travelwell shook his head. “I don’t know his name. King Histron promised he wouldn’t annex Gensler. I fought for Gensler!” Travelwell insisted.

“You fought for Zarron, Travelwell. I’m sure Emperor Daryaku aims to annex all of Besseth. He’s tried to the west and failed, but succeeded in the Red Kingdom and Happly. Valetan is Happly’s goal.” Anchor wondered if Peleor hadn’t suborned high ranking Valetan officials as well. He’d send a bird to the Duke. “Make peace, Travelwell. You won’t be leaving South Keep alive.”

“My wife!” Traveller reached for Anchor.

“I’ll send someone to write down a message to her. Tell the woman the truth. Your revolution did not succeed.” Anchor had learned enough and departed Travelwell’s room. Blood from his wounded wrist had soiled his shirt. He’d get the healer to change his dressings before he headed to visit the jailed Happlyans.

By the time he made it across the courtyard to the cells, Anchor sought a seat in a rude interrogation room just three paces across either way. He grimaced as he sat down. The chair was more like a stool with a low back. At least he could sit back without touching his shoulder wound. He leaned forward on the table and looked at the empty stool. Anchor took a deep breath and tried to ignore the pain as much as he could.

“Ah, you’re here, Captain. I’ll bring in the prisoners.” One of the rankers had just given him a promotion, Anchor noted.

A guard brought in some bread and an ale. “Healer sent these over. He doubted that you’ve had much today.”

“Thank you.”

He spent the next hour talking to the two officers and the one ranker that Gasso captured. The officers didn’t add anything, but the ranker said something at the very end.

“At least I won’t be around the Ropponis anymore.”

New information!  Anchor tried to remain calm. “What Ropponis?”

“The Duke has a company of Ropponi wizards at the Keep. None of us care much for those slimy bastards,” the ranker said. “They stink something awful. Somethin’ to do with how they season the food they eat. What can they do anyway?”

“Why did the Duke bring them in?”

The ranker eyed the half-finished ale. “You give me the rest o’ that ale and I’ll sing their praises, sir.” The man’s eyes pled with Anchor and he licked his lips.

The former wizard slid the ale over and let the man drink. The healer had laced the thing with painkiller and had ruined the taste anyway.

The ranker made a face. “You brew it funny in Gensler.” He wiped his mouth. “The Duke doesn’t like ‘em anymore than the rankers, sir. Had us clear a separate camp for ‘em. They’re mercenaries like most of us. They don’t do much and that’s fine with the rest o’ the army. I don’t think they like being in Besseth any more than we like ‘em here. Rumor was he hired them so the Valetans wouldn’t. They haven’t fought one lick, no they haven’t.”