The Tomni'Tai Scroll (Book 1) (15 page)

*****

“There are no bodies inside, captain,” Teo announced upon emerging from the guardhouse.

“Very well,” Captain Moggs replied. “I don’t understand how this could have happened.” He surveyed the rest of the man-trap on the Zinferth side of Hart’s Bridge, and glanced to the reinforcements he had brought with him.

“Perhaps the criminal they were warning us about has made it into our lands, sir,” Teo put in.

“It is possible, but it doesn’t seem likely that a lone swordsman could have done this. What confuses me is that on our side of the bridge our comrades’ heads have been placed on pikes with this warning nailed to one of them.” Captain Moggs held up the tattered note written in blood. “Now I see a charred wagon, a couple of injured horses, and wagon tracks leading out with no sign of any bodies on this side. Something doesn’t add up.”

“Sir,” a voice called from one of the towers. “I see a band of riders heading toward us.”

Moggs and Teo jogged over to the gateway of the complex and scanned the desert road before them. At first they could only see a large cloud of dust winding its way through the dunes like a gigantic, brown snake.

“Can you see their banners?” Teo asked.

“Not yet,” Moggs replied. “I would guess they are probably Zinferth soldiers.”

“Perhaps we should meet them, and inform them of what we found when we arrived.”

“Very well,” Moggs agreed. “Get my horse and join me out here. Give the order to close the gate, we don’t want the Zinferth soldiers riding in and thinking that we killed their comrades. I don’t want this to turn into a border dispute. We have enough of that in the south.”

“Yes sir,” Teo replied. He ran off to get the horses.

Moggs looked up to the tower and waived to his lookout. “Can you make out their colors?” Moggs yelled.

“Riders of Zinferth, captain,” the lookout replied.

“Well, I suppose someone has to inform them of their comrades’ fate.” Moggs turned and waited for Teo to bring the horses out. The large, portcullis came crashing down shortly after Teo emerged with the steeds. The two trotted out on horseback about fifty yards. By this time the riders were close enough that Captain Moggs could see the first row clearly. The men were dressed in armor, holding their colors high and running their horses at a quick gallop.

“Teo, hold up,” Moggs ordered as he halted his horse. “Something doesn’t feel right.” Moggs glanced back to the gate. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. His instincts told him that he was in dire straits.

“What is it?” Teo asked.

Moggs pointed to the riders and slowly shook his head. “Their hands are resting on their swords.”

“Surely they can’t think we did this?” Teo asked. “We only arrived today, and it is obvious that the battle took place days ago.”

Moggs spat on the desert sand. “Our nations have had several skirmishes on the border over the last year.”

“But never this far north,” Teo reminded him. “Hart’s Bridge has always been the one border crossing that was stable. The skirmishes happen on the plains south of the mountains.”

Moggs narrowed his eyes on the approaching riders and shook his head. “There is no more peace at Hart’s Bridge, back to the gatehouse now!” Moggs whipped his horse around and galloped back to the gatehouse. “Whatever the reason, these men are here to fight.”

A pair of black arrows flew by their heads, only narrowly missing them.

Moggs and Teo spurred their horses furiously, but they could hear the riders gaining on them with each passing second. Moggs feared that they would not be able to outrun the soldiers behind them. “Teo, get to the men and order them to fall back to our side of the bridge and send a dispatch for help.”

“What are you going to do?” Teo asked.

“I will buy you time,” Moggs replied. “Open the gate!” Moggs bellowed to his men behind the portcullis. Then he drew his sword and turned his horse back to face the charging battle-group. He offered a mighty roar to Basei, the demigod of battle and war, and then he rode headlong into the enemy. His only hope was that his sacrifice would buy Teo enough time to relay the orders to the rest of the men.

Moggs narrowed his eyes and set his jaw as he urged his horse forward. The Zinferth soldiers drew their weapons. Horse hooves churned and flipped the desert sand every which way as the gap between the riders closed. Another volley of arrows sailed in. Moggs caught three of them with his shield, and then hunkered down in his saddle as the distance between him and the enemy closed. The impact was sudden, thunderous, and bloody. Moggs scored a hit on an enemy soldier with his blade, while his shield deflected the spear of another Zinferth soldier. The spear and the three arrow shafts splintered, spraying wood across all nearby riders, but Moggs pressed on. He swung out with his shield and collided with one of the Zinferth riders, the man was knocked backward from his horse, to be trampled below. Moggs swung his sword to strike another foe, but this time a large war-hammer connected with his blade and snapped it like a twig. A stabbing pain shot through Moggs’ left thigh. He turned to see a sword protruding from his leg. Holding on to the sword was a large man with an eye-patch.

“You die here, maggot,” the man growled.

“You first,” Moggs replied. The Shausmatian captain mustered the strength to leap from his horse, straight at the man with the eye-patch. He swung wildly with his broken blade, landing three solid scores on his enemy’s shoulder, cutting deep into the joint and almost severing the man’s arm. Moggs then brought his shield down, hard on the man’s face and the two went flying to the ground.

The man with the eye-patch flailed wildly, but he was no match for the Shausmatian captain. Moggs broke the man’s windpipe with a sideways strike, using the edge of his shield as a blunt weapon. A flurry of riders closed in, each of them determined to end Moggs’ life. Moggs rolled through the red sand, striking out with his broken blade and his shield. He miraculously dodged several fatal blows aimed at him, and somehow he managed to bring down two more riders and sever a horse’s leg before he was finally kicked to the ground and trampled by numerous riders.

When the last of the riders galloped past, Moggs rolled his broken body over and strained to find Teo. He had a hard time scanning the desert through all the blood that was flowing over his eyes. He tried to wipe his brow, but he found that neither of his arms worked. They had both been broken in several places. Moggs arched his back and scrubbed his face across the body of the man with the eye-patch to clear the blood from his field of vision. Then he looked up, hoping to see that Teo had made it to the gatehouse safely. Finally, he saw his young friend, standing tall in his saddle and waving his arms frantically. Moggs smiled, believing that Teo had in fact made it, and that his men would be safe, but then Moggs spied a rider aiming a crossbow at Teo. Moggs tried to call out, but only a bloody whisper escaped his throat before he saw a bolt pierce Teo’s back and throw the man from his saddle just outside of the portcullis. A tear slid down Moggs’ cheek and his shaky head fell down to the sand below for the last time.

*****

A large, robust man sat at the head of the long table in the dining hall. He was alone enjoying fried eggs on buttered toast, one of his favorite mid-night snacks. The moonlight beamed through the window, adding a silvery hue to the dining hall. No candles were lit for he despised the light of flame. He would much rather just sit in moonlight. Of course the weather did not always permit this, but when it did he was sure to be relaxing in the silvery lunar beams.

A door opened at the end of the dining hall and a small wiry servant came through the doorway, took two steps into the room, and bowed his head.

“Your majesty, there has been an incident at Harts Bridge which requires your immediate attention. A border guard has arrived to give you a full report.”

“Let him in,” King Sarito’s low voice boomed. The servant, still bowing, backed out of the room and in came a young border guard with a bandaged nose. The border guard dropped slowly to one knee and bowed his head, placing his right hand over his heart in salute.

“Tell me what happened,” King Sarito commanded.

The border guard quickly approached the king’s table and stood about fifteen feet from him. “My king, three days ago I arrived with a small company to reinforce Hart’s Bridge. As you know, we had been told of a criminal on the loose that posed a danger to the border-crossing and we were going to reinforce our side of Hart’s Bridge. When we arrived, we found our comrades dead. Inside the main keep of the gatehouse their heads were placed upon pikes and crows were pecking at their flesh. A warning letter was placed upon one of the heads, written in blood.”

“What did it say?” King Sarito asked as he pushed his plate away.

“Death to Shausmatian dogs,” the border guard replied. The young soldier swallowed hard and then cleared his throat before continuing. “Naturally we went straight over to the Zinferth gatehouse to uncover what had happened.”

“What did you find?” King Sarito asked.

The soldier’s eyes went distant and lost focus as he recalled the images. “Blood was all around, on the walls and the ground. A wagon had been burnt, as well as one of the stables on the Zinferth side. But, we didn’t find anyone there.”

“What do you mean?” Sarito asked. “No one survived on either side of the bridge?”

“I’m not sure, sire,” the soldier replied. “All I know is we didn’t find anyone on the other side of Hart’s Bridge.” The soldier swallowed hard.

“Was it the criminal we were warned about?” the king asked.

The soldier shook his head. “Captain Moggs didn’t think so.”

King Sarito sighed and rested his chin on his fist. “Go on, what happened next?”

“I was sent to the tower and I kept a lookout while the rest of the company continued to search the grounds. After a while some riders came. They were Zinferthian soldiers. They attacked us. They killed everyone sire.”

“What provoked them?”

“Nothing, Captain Moggs rode out to meet them, but he was attacked straight away. Then they rode in and killed everyone before we could lower the portcullis. They kept shouting about avenging their brothers. They were ruthless, sire.” The young soldier lowered his head and started to weep.

King Sarito was silent for a moment. He rose from his seat and walked over to the open window. He looked out over his kingdom. “This must be some kind of mistake.”

“Not so, sire,” another commented from the shadows.

King Sarito turned to see a familiar, long face with a gray beard. “Simon Tellwelle, my most trusted advisor, how long have you been here?”

“Just a few moments,” Simon replied with a sweeping bow. “This is no mistake,” he repeated. “If anything, it is a sign that things have become far worse than we had anticipated.” Simon was a tall man, standing well over six feet. His head was crowned with an ample amount of silver hair that fell down around his thin, pale face. His narrow, pointy nose lent him a shrewd, rat-like appearance.

“I have never wished to see blood in my days,” King Sarito said to Simon. “I do not think that two countries must resolve their matters by shedding the blood of their people.”

“Obviously Queen Dalynn feels otherwise,” Simon said with a sweep of his arm to the young soldier. “We must answer this offense, sire, with full force.”

King Sarito looked down to the young soldier. “You are dismissed lad. Tend to your wounds and then report back for duty with the city garrison here. You have had enough adventure in the desert for a while.”

 “Yes, my sovereign.” The border guard saluted again and swiftly exited the dining hall.

As soon as he exited Simon stepped closer to speak with Sarito. “Sire,” Simon began in his exceedingly nasal, austere voice, “I have discussed the matter with the council and I have prepared some options for you.”

“How could you have had time to speak with other council members?” Sarito asked.

“I pride myself in being the first to know everything, sire. That way I may come to you with solutions rather than just problems.”

“Simon, this is most likely a spill-over from the border disputes in the south. Perhaps an over zealous soldier began taunting the others, or maybe someone had a relative killed in the border disputes. Whatever it was, I am sure it was a misunderstanding. I don’t want to make it worse by launching a full assault and seizing the bridge. That would only escalate the hostilities. Besides, we need the trade to remain open between our kingdoms. We depend on Zinferth for many resources.”

“And they depend on us for our gold,” Simon pointed out.

King Sarito shook his large, thick head. “I would be willing to send out a unit of the Death Hawks, but nothing more,” Sarito said.

“I understand, sire, but I do not think that is enough.” Simon strode in towards the table and laid his left arm on the back of a chair. “I believe that dark days are coming for our kingdom.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have discussed the matter in full with the junior advisers. We are all in agreement that war is inevitable. One unit of Death Hawks may be a good start to secure the bridge, but I believe that we must prepare for full scale war.”