The High King: Book Two of the 'Riothamus' trilogy (32 page)

Read The High King: Book Two of the 'Riothamus' trilogy Online

Authors: Rosemary Fryth

Tags: #romance, #adventure, #fantasy, #epic fantasy, #battles, #medieval, #high fantasy, #trilogy, #australian author, #heroic fantasy fantasy trilogy

“Can you smell
them Aran?” Darven asked, fascinated by this obviously new
demonstration of the Warriormage Ability.

Aran shook his
head, and closed his eyes; again he grasped the magepower and
curled it within, trying harder to reach out further.

“No, a feeling
of undefined horror, an unpleasant odour almost…” he shrugged,
“Just an impression of dust and movement and minds
linked…Hell!”

He pulled away
suddenly, his face white with strain and horror. Immediately Alissa
rode her horse forward, reaching out with her own power to sustain
him.

“What
happened?” she asked urgently.

Aran pulled
Spirit up, and leant over the side of the horse. Immediately he
vomited the remains of breakfast onto the grass. The others waited
silently, their faces full of concern.

“I must be
more careful,” Aran said at last, wiping his mouth with the back of
his hand. “I was trying to feel them and I got too close, and I
briefly brushed their mind link. Luckily their Warleader must have
been asleep, for I managed to pull away before she became aware of
my presence…” He shook his head, “I don’t know how they stand it…I
felt ill as soon as I touched her link.”

He glanced up
at the other’s questioning faces and his eyes were grim. Quickly he
tried to explain what had happened.

“Just for an
instant I touched the link the Warleader has on her army. It was
horrible, she must be entirely evil…just that fleeting touch was
enough to make me sick to my stomach!”

“How will you
stand it once we get closer?” Alissa asked her eyes raking his body
to see if he had come to any physical harm.

“I will try
and ward myself,” Aran said finally. “When we stop I’ll speak to
the Archmage. He may be able to suggest something.” He took a deep
breath, “In the meantime, I’ll keep within myself and not venture
out again. This ambush is dependent entirely upon us taking the
enemy by surprise. That will be lost if I stumble again, and alert
them to our presence.”

*

By late in the
morning the small army had reached the foot of Mount Solstice, and
all were soon busily unsaddling horses, preparing to make a day
camp in its shadow.

Aran led
Spirit across to be picketed with the other horses, then with that
duty done, stared long and hard at the craggy mountain looming over
him, a faint idea prickling the back of his mind. The sight of the
mages dismounting and preparing for camp gave clarity to his idea,
and he quickly made his way over to where Earthmage Drayden was
unsaddling his horse.

“My lord?”
Drayden looked up in some surprise at the sudden appearance of his
young king.

“I have a
favour to ask of you, High Earthmage,” Aran said immediately.

The mage
inclined his head, “My lord, all you need to do is ask.”

Aran stared at
the high peak towering over the camp, “I have a mind to see the lie
of the land hereabouts. Can you take me to the top of that
peak?”

Drayden stared
at Aran in amazement, “You wish to be transformed, my lord?”

Aran nodded,
“I do not have the time to climb that mountain in the usual way. If
you can do this…?”

The mage
nodded, “If you will allow me a few minutes to finish up here…” he
looked across at his king. “You will need to discard the armour,
and dress lighter my lord; else I will not be able to lift
you.”

*

“We ought to
move a little way away my lord. The mages are now used to
transformations but the process may upset the common soldiery.”

Aran nodded
and walked with the Earthmage to the outskirts of the camp.

“Have you told
the Archmage?”

Drayden
inclined his head, “Of course my lord. Any transformations
involving a non-Glaive individual must first be approved by the
Archmage. Even more so because you are the king, to do otherwise
mean that I would risk being stripped of my rank and mantle.”

“Will I be a
kitten again?”

“Aye, it
worked well last time.”

Aran closed
his eyes and grimaced, “Then do it quickly man, this is not
something that is very enjoyable.”

The Earthmage
grinned, “You get used to it my lord…”

*

Despite the
Earthmage’s words, Aran felt he could never really get used to the
feeling of being suspended weightless in the air whilst the air
currents played havoc with his fur and whiskers. Briefly he looked
down, and immediately closed his eyes again against the unnerving
sight of the ground and distant camp spinning below him. Aran
opened his eyes again as the great sea eagle tightened his clasp
upon the soft, loose fur at his neck and spiralled upwards, taking
advantage of the air rising from the great plains below.

‘The air will
be turbulent around the peak,’ Drayden informed him gravely.
‘Please do not move…I will try and make our landing gentle for
you.’

Aran grinned
despite his alarm. There was no way that he would hamper the
Earthmage’s flight. The distant earth below was a cheerless
reminder at how great a fall it would be if he was dropped…

‘Do not fear,
I will not drop you,’ reassured Drayden as he intercepted Aran’s
thoughts ‘Now paws outstretched. There is a wide ledge on the peak
that will accommodate us both.’

Unfortunately
there was a sudden wind gust, and the sea eagle landed heavily, but
Aran was this time prepared for the sudden stop and curved his
claws into the loose rock.

*

“It’s a fine
view, my lord.”

Aran made sure
his back was firm against the mountain, and his hands splayed
across the comforting security of the rock before he felt secure
enough to look out and across the vast expanse of the plains spread
below.

“Aye…how high
are we?”

The Earthmage
studied the plains below, “Oh I expect the plain is at least
several hundred yards below us.” His gaze moved to the horizon,
“From this height you can see the Trident Range quite clearly. Ah I
can see now the approaching storms the Weathermages have been
talking about…”

Aran stared at
the distant western snow-capped mountains, then behind them on the
horizon, the encroaching storm clouds. Changing his aspect he
looked to the south, and tried without success to see the
approaching Thakurian army. Gathering his magepower he breathed
deeply of the cold air and opened his senses to send a hesitant
probe across the plains. Almost immediately he felt them, then
immediately broke contact before he was drawn into their
mind-link.

“There,” he
pointed to the south-west. “I can feel the Thakur army but cannot
see them, can you?”

Drayden had
instantly felt his companion’s unfamiliar use of the magepower, but
it was strange to him, and he could not identify or copy what had
been done. Finally with a quick, “Don’t worry, I’ll be back
shortly,” the mage shook himself into the resemblance of the eagle,
and with a leap and a flap of the great wings, spiralled up higher
into the air. Aran with some trepidation about being left behind,
watched the bird anxiously. A few minutes later, the sea eagle
landed again on the narrow ledge and shimmered back into
Drayden.

“Aye, you
are
right! There is an army approaching. They are too far
away to guess numbers but they are mounted and are riding hard and
fast.”

“You saw them
clearly? They are Thakur?”

Drayden shook
his head, “Although the sight of the sea eagle is keen, I could
only make out the great dust cloud which they have cast up, and the
midday sun flashing upon their armour and weapons.”

“But they are
the Thakur and not the plainsmen?” Aran questioned.

“Aye, Thakur
indeed, a plainsman would sooner die than ride his horse so
hard.”

Aran gazed to
the south-west, “How far are they away?”

“Two days at
this furious pace, although they will be slowed as their horses
drop dead from under them. They are surely an advance party send to
secure and hold the route for the main army behind.”

Aran nodded,
“Then I was right.”

He turned to
the Earthmage, “We must return immediately to camp. I must relay
this information to the other commanders.”

*

‘My lord…there
is a rider approaching the camp from the north-east’

Aran craned
his head around, but the way he was held and the movement of the
eagle in flight restricted him and he could see nothing.

‘Who is
it?’

‘A plainsman,
he looks familiar, one of the few that came to Andur’s Keep for the
coronation. He has ridden long and hard. His horse is lathered…odd
for a plainsman to ride so…’

Aran caught
the puzzlement woven into the short thought-comments of the sea
eagle, and tried to see the distant horseman.

‘Are others
with him?’ Aran asked, trying his best to ignore the ground rushing
up.

‘No…he is
alone. Prepare yourself my lord…we are set to land.’

Moments later
Aran and Mage Drayden strolled back into camp, their absence
unnoticed by the soldiers who upon arrival had immediately rolled
themselves into blankets, trying to catch a bit of shut-eye for the
night ride ahead.

Aran clasped
the mage on the shoulder, “Thank-you. Now you must excuse me as I
must go talk with the other commanders.”

Drayden nodded
and yawned.

“I think I
will try and sleep a little myself. Transformations always tend to
make me tired and keeping two transformations intact is even more
wearying.”

*

A little later
Aran was deep in conversation with the Guard officers and Legion
Commanders, when one of the sentry legio appeared, waiting
anxiously for an opportunity to speak.

Aran glanced
up at the soldier and held up his hand for quiet.

“You have news
man?”

The soldier
quickly knelt, “Aye my king. A plainsman has ridden in and is
asking to speak with the Riothamus.” He paused, “I would have sent
him on his way, but I was not certain who the Riothamus was.”

Aran grinned,
“I am the Riothamus, soldier, lead on. I will go to him…he has
ridden far.”

*

“Bini
Stardreamer!”

Aran was
immediately certain of the identity of the young warrior busily
unloading his small pack of gear from his lathered mount.

The plainsman
looked up at the mention of his name, and quickly walked over and
clasped Aran’s hand.

“I have been
following your dust for the past two days, my lord Riothamus. I am
glad that you have finally stopped so I could catch up.”

Aran glanced
at the horizon, “And the plainsmen are following on behind?”

Bini shook his
head in weary anger, “No, I am quite alone. The plainsmen still
wait on omens and sit on their hands.” His eyes hardened, “Although
I and those few of your Guard who are your ambassadors plead your
cause, still they do nothing. Eventually I grew tired of the
SpiritDreamer’s mutterings about omens, and left to seek you and
join you in this war.”

Aran frowned,
“Although it does my heart good to see you again, I am confused by
your arrival Bini. Have you entirely deserted your people?”

The plainsman
took off his helmet and shook free his golden hair, “Aye lord
Riothamus. I have stood in the Meeting Tent before the Clan Chiefs
and Bowleader Kainne Stormbringer, and given them back my Plains
Oath.” The leather and bronze clad warrior knelt upon the dry and
dying grass and bowed his head, “I come to you my lord Riothamus.
Would you let a humble plainsman serve you? Will you accept my Oath
and Bow.”

Aran took the
sun-browned hand of the warrior, and lifted him to his feet, “Of
course Bini, you will become my left hand, just as Wolf Leader
Darven is my right.”

“And what am I
Aran?” a merry voice asked behind them.

Aran turned
and smiled at Alissa, who had walked up after hearing news of the
arrival of the plainsman.

“You are my
heart and soul as always, Alissa.”

Bini inclined
his head and spoke gravely, “Lady Alissa, you ride to war
also?”

Alissa nodded
and took Aran’s hand.

Bini noticed
the closeness and grinned at the couple.

“You two are
pledged?”

Aran
nodded.

The warrior
laughed, “When I left, I hoped it might be so.” He grinned again
“That is good. The blood of the plains will be joined with the
ancient Andurian lineage. You will have strong, fine children my
lord…”

Aran laughed
at that and clasped the warrior on the shoulder.

“Come Bini, I
would like you to meet the other Captains and Commanders of this
great host. You may not be the long-hoped-for arrival of the
horsetribes, but your presence here is gift enough. Have you yet
eaten?”

The plainsman
shook his head, “No, I have been riding since dawn.”

“Then sup and
rest with us. We camp here till dusk then we ride again.”

Bini glanced
across at Aran approving the decision, “We will soon be in sight of
the mountains and the Thakur borders, my lord Riothamus. The dust
from such an army as this would be very visible to our enemy.”

Aran nodded,
“We have other plans too Bini! I will tell you of them whilst we
walk…”

*

In the falling
dusk, Aran swung into the saddle. As he settled himself, he glanced
around at the ranks of mounted cavalry. They bore no lights for
this night ride, for the two moons were up and their dim light was
enough to light the way. However it had turned bitterly cold, and
with the sun’s feeble winter warmth gone, the soldiers wrapped
themselves in their cloaks and blankets, trying to stay warm whilst
in the saddle. Aran had not planned for a hard ride, for the ambush
point lay only eight or so hours ahead and would be reached well
before dawn. He did not want the cavalry at the ambush point to be
greatly separated from the main army, for he knew there would be
injuries and losses from the ambush, and despite the presence of
the Healermages, injured men needed to be returned as quickly as
possible to the main base camp. Alissa rode up, and took her usual
position next to him and gave him a tight, nervous smile. Despite
her brave talk, she too was feeling apprehensive about the coming
battle. Behind Aran had drawn up Darven with the great banner,
joined now by the bronze and leather clad Bini on his rangy corn
coloured mare. Behind the banner were the ranks of Guardsmen and
mages, and then finally at the rear were the massed ranks of the
Legions. Looking about him and seeing that all were in readiness,
Aran lifted his arm and gave the command to ride on.

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