Soul of Sorcery (Book 5) (15 page)

“We shall divide them into two groups,” said Ragnachar, “and place them out of sight behind the village. Once the swordthains have lured out the knights, the mammoths will charge. We shall break the knights, and the spearthains will drive back the enemy’s footmen. The day shall be ours.” 

If everything went according to plan, of course.

“Guardian,” said Ragnachar. “Will you employ your arts in the battle?”

Aegidia lifted her chin. “The Guardian may not use her powers to take human life, Ragnachar. You know that.”

“As you have so often told me,” said Ragnachar. “But the enemy might have witchers among them. Will you use your spells to baffle their attacks?”

“I shall,” said Aegidia. 

“How splendid,” said Ragnachar. “It is good to know that you are useful for something, at least. Come, Athanaric. We must prepare our men for war.”

Ragnachar walked from the stairs without looking back. Athanaric glared after him for a moment, and then followed.

###

“His plan is a terrible risk,” said Riothamus. 

They stood atop the shell of the stone tower, looking over the ruined village. Aegidia's cloak of feathers stirred in the breeze, white strands of hair dancing around her lined face.

The host of the Tervingi labored to the west. Thousands of bondsmen dug, creating a maze of trenches before the village. The women and the children moved east, to take refuge in the foothills in case the battle went ill. Ragnachar had agreed without any argument.

Riothamus suspected that Ragnachar did not care what happened to the women and children. 

“It is,” said Aegidia. “Ragnachar is many things, but a craven is not one of them. If anyone can win this battle, he can.” 

“And if he cannot?” said Riothamus.

Golden-white shapes soared overhead, making for the west. The skythains, flying to watch the enemy host approach. At least the knights could not move without the Tervingi knowing. 

“Then he cannot,” said Aegidia. “The destiny of the Tervingi lies in this land. That much, the Sight has shown me. But whether or not the destiny is an ill one...even the Sight cannot reveal that.”

“Heartening,” muttered Riothamus. 

A smile flickered over her lips. “The Sight is rarely comforting. To see a dozen possible futures, many of them grim, and to know that you cannot escape them…that is a heavy burden.” She hefted the staff, the bronze wood gleaming in the sunlight. “You will bear this burden one day, along with this staff.”

“What shall we do?” said Riothamus.

“What we must,” said Aegidia. “Toric and the other skythains say the host of the Grim Marches will arrive in three days. The destiny of the Tervingi will be decided then. Meanwhile, we shall prepare. We will raise wards, to guard the village from magical observation.”

Riothamus nodded, and set to work alongside the Guardian.

Chapter 15 – The Battle of Stone Tower

The blast of the trumpets rang over the assembled host of the Grim Marches. 

Mazael rode with the other lords, passing rank after rank of halberdiers in the black and red of the House of Mandragon. Lord Richard rode before Mazael, his armor of crimson chain mail and dragon scales clattering. Toraine rode at his right hand, a dark shadow in his armor of black dragon scales. Besides the Mandragons rode Lord Jonaril Mandrake, Lord Astor Hawking, Lord Robert Highgate, Sir Tanam Crowley, and the other chief lords of the Grim Marches. Romaria and Molly followed Mazael, both in leather armor, bows and swords ready at hand. 

At last Sir Tanam reined up.

“And there they are, my lords,” said the Old Crow. 

The host of the Tervingi stood in ranks outside the ruined village.

The village of Stone Tower had once been famed for its round tower keep, home to one of Mazael’s vassal knights. Then the Malrags came, slew the knight, and burned the village. It had stood empty ever since, and Mazael had not yet found another vassal to take the manor. 

And now the Tervingi had claimed it. 

Thousands of barbarian spearmen waited before the village, guarded by a maze of trenches. Swordsmen waited on the wings, broadswords in their right hands, shields on their left arms. Griffins circled over the village, bows in their riders' hands.

No sign of any mammoths, though. 

“How many?” said Richard, his voice calm. 

“At least sixteen thousand, I’d say,” said Tanam. “Maybe even as many as twenty thousand.”

“Their numbers match our own,” said Lord Astor, his voice tight. 

“But they lack horsemen?” said Richard.

“Not a Tervingi rider in sight,” said Tanam. “Apparently the Tervingi do not use horses in war.”

Toraine laughed. “To their ruin, then. One charge of lances shall sweep them from the plains.”

“Unless their damned mammoths intervene,” grumbled Lord Jonaril. “I lost twelve good knights taking one of the beasts down.” 

“The mammoths are fearsome,” said Tanam, “but my lords should be more concerned about the trenches before the Tervingi spearmen. A horse with broken legs is useless.” 

“And I suspect there are archers waiting behind those spearmen,” said Richard. “If we bog down in the trenches, they will rain arrows upon us.”

Mazael stared at the Tervingi lines, frowning. Days of work must have gone into digging the trenches. Yet the swordsmen waiting upon the right and the left of the spearmen had no such protection. 

So why go to the trouble of digging the trenches, yet leave the swordsmen unprotected?

###

Riothamus took a deep breath, watching the steel-clad army approach.

“It begins,” murmured Aegidia. 

They stood on their perch atop the tower, watching the armies array themselves for battle. The Tervingi spearthains and swordthains stood in their ranks, the spearthains shielded by the trenches. Riothamus glimpsed Athanaric and Ragnachar striding up and down the ranks, Athanaric attended by his most trusted thains, Ragnachar by his orcragars. It was a great army, a mighty host of Tervingi warriors.

But the army of the knights was just as large.

And it had so many damned horsemen. 

Thousands of halberdiers waited, clad in crimson and black, and Riothamus saw lines of archers and crossbowmen behind them. Great masses of horsemen gathered on the wings of the enemy. Many were clad head to foot in steel chain or plate, and bore maces and swords and heavy lances. Others only wore light armor, and carried short bows and quivers of javelins. 

“They’ll send the horse archers to harass the spearthains,” said Riothamus. “Keep up the pressure until the thains grow weary and attack. Then the heavy horse will sweep us away.”

“You speak truly,” said Aegidia. “Unless Ragnachar’s stratagem with the mammoths works.”

Riothamus looked over his shoulder. The mammoths waited behind the village, out of sight of the advancing enemy. One hundred and sixteen mammoths, each carrying a tower and loaded with archers. If Ragnachar’s plan worked, the swordthains would withdraw past the village, luring the knights after them. Then the mammoths would charge and grind the horsemen to pulp.

If Ragnachar’s plan worked. 

“Be ready,” murmured Aegidia. “The enemy has wielders of magic among them.”

Riothamus frowned. “How many?”

If he concentrated, he could feel their presence against his spells. He and Aegidia had raised wards of power over the village, fashioned to scatter any spells of farseeing. With luck, that would keep the enemy from discovering the mammoths until it was too late.

“Several dozen, at least,” said Aegidia. “None possess significant power. But if they work together, they shall prove formidable. I will not use my power to take human life, but I doubt the knights’ wizards have the same restrictions. You must help me to turn aside their attacks.”

Riothamus nodded. “I will.” 

To his surprise, she smiled.

“What?” said Riothamus.

“You have grown,” said Aegidia. “Into a man, and a good and capable one.” Her eyes were distant, the wind tugging at strands of white hair. “You will be a good Guardian, Riothamus. A better one than I have been.”

“That is absurd,” said Riothamus. “It will take me decades to learn as much as you know. And hopefully I shall not become Guardian for long years yet.” 

Yet he could not help but notice how thin she looked, how weary and gaunt. The veins stood out beneath her pale skin like blue lines upon a map. She had not looked so tired before the Tervingi had crossed the Great Mountains. 

“Will we die today?” said Riothamus.

“Perhaps,” said Aegidia. “But how is that different than any other day?”

Then he felt the probe of divinatory spells. Aegidia began to strengthen the wards, and he added his power to hers.

###

“I cannot,” said Timothy, shaking his head.

He and the other court wizards stood in a clump, their black coats stark against the plains. Timothy held a wire-wrapped quartz crystal in his hand, as did the other wizards. 

“Wards?” said Mazael.

Timothy nodded. “I fear so, my lord. We cannot penetrate them. I suspect the Tervingi only have one wizard among their number, but he possesses tremendous power.”

For a brief moment Mazael wondered if Lucan had gone over to the Tervingi. But the notion was absurd. And if Lucan’s spells had warded the Tervingi army, then Timothy would have recognized it.

But where the devil had Lucan gone?

“So you are unable to sense the presence of foes?” said Lord Richard.

“We are not, my lord,” said Timothy. “We cannot tell you if any enemies hide within the village. The ward is simply too strong to penetrate. 

“Our course seems clear enough, Father,” said Toraine. “The barbarian fools failed to protect their flanks. We send the knights to smash them, and then encircle the spearmen. Victory will follow soon enough.”

“But where,” said Lord Jonaril, “are the mammoths? It seemed every Tervingi raiding party had at least one of the damned beasts.”

Lord Astor grunted “Perhaps we slew them all.” 

“That seems unlikely,” said Sir Tanam. 

“It’s a lure,” said Mazael.

The lords and knights looked at him. 

“If we assume these Tervingi are fools, then we are the fools,” said Mazael. Toraine’s dark eyes narrowed, but Mazael ignored him. “Those skythains tracked every step we took. They've known we were coming for days. They had ample time to dig trenches around the entire village, if they wished.” He took a deep breath. “They didn’t, because they want us to charge the swordsmen.”

“A trap, then,” said Tanam.

“Aye,” said Mazael. “They must have another force waiting behind the village. More swordsmen, or their own horsemen. Or all the mammoths massed into a single force. If we charge those swordsmen, they’ll give way, and we'll blunder into whatever trap the Tervingi have prepared for us.” 

“I agree with Lord Mazael,” said Lord Robert. His chain mail and plate armor, combined with his gut, made him look like a giant steel pear. Yet a string of Malrag claws dangled from his belt, and Robert had held Castle Highgate against a powerful Malrag force during Ultorin’s invasion. “Just because these Tervingi are barbarians doesn’t meant they’re idiots. If they have a war leader with a brain among them, they’ll know they cannot face heavy cavalry on an open field. So they will try to neutralize our knights and mounted armsmen.”

“Then we need more information, my lords,” said Romaria. “I can scout undetected around the village, and return with news.”

“As can I,” said Molly. A few of the knights edged away from her. Romaria scared them, but Molly had an even darker reputation. They already thought Mazael mad, and the fact that his wife could become a great black wolf and his bastard daughter could walk through the shadows had only enhanced that perception. 

Of course, if they knew what he really was, they would try to kill him.

“No,” said Lord Richard.

The knights and lords looked at their liege.

“No,” said Richard again. “No amount of scouting will confirm what we already know. Namely, that the Tervingi have laid a trap for us. The best way to spring a trap is to turn it upon our foes. Let him who digs a pit for another fall into it himself.” He turned his horse. “Lady Romaria and Sir Tanam?”

“My lord?” said Romaria.

“Kindly take command of the horse archers,” said Richard. “Target the swordsmen upon the wings. Let us see if we can draw them out.” 

Romaria nodded and galloped off, Tanam riding next to her. 

Mazael watched her go, trying to ignore the fear in his heart. She would be fine.

And if she was not, he would kill every last one of the Tervingi. 

###

The trumpets sounded again, and twin masses of horsemen sped from the enemy lines. Fop an instant Riothamus thought the knights had charged the Tervingi. But he saw that the riders bore leather armor and carried javelins and short bows instead of chain mail and heavy lances. 

Skirmishers, then. 

“Pinpricks,” said Aegidia.

Riothamus nodded. “They’re going to harass the swordthains until they charge.” 

In the tales of the loresingers, he had heard stories of the ancient armies of the Dark Elderborn, so disciplined they would stand immobile until ordered to charge, no matter the provocation. But not even the Guardian could make the Tervingi act as she wished, and if the skirmishers enraged the swordthains enough…

“They’re trying to lure out the swordthains,” said Riothamus. “And if they do, the knights will ride them down.”

###

The horse thundered underneath her, but the short bow remained steady in Romaria’s hands. 

She had taken command of the horse archers on the left, while Sir Tanam had taken command of the raiders on the right. Romaria signaled, and her riders veered past the trenches in front of the spearmen, toward the swordsmen on their right. The Tervingi banged the flats of their blades against their shields, and began to bellow a song in the Dark Elderborn tongue, a song of defiance and valor.

It was terribly brave.

But bravery alone could not save a man.

Romaria signaled, and the horse archers raised their bows.

In one smooth motion she dropped the reins, lifted her bow, and released.

An arrow hissed through the air, flying to bury itself in the throat of a Tervingi swordsman. The man fell with a gurgle, his blood spilling into the soil of the Grim Marches. 

The other horse archers followed suit, loosing a volley of arrows at the Tervingi. Most thudded against heavy shields, but some hurtled past to bury themselves in Tervingi flesh. The Tervingi roared their song in fury, keeping their shields raised. No doubt they expected the horse archers to loose their arrows and then withdraw back to Lord Richard’s lines. 

Instead the riders began to gallop in a wheel, a maneuver they had practiced over and over again against the Malrags, a maneuver they had used to great effect against the Tervingi outside of Redcrest. They loosed a constant stream of arrows into the Tervingi, and as Romaria rode in the circle, she saw Tanam’s horsemen doing the same. 

The Tervingi shouted their rage, and Romaria saw their lines ripple.

###

“Gods,” said Riothamus. “I didn’t know horses could do that.”

The raiders had formed into two spinning wheels before the swordthains, peppering them with arrows. He hear the enraged song of the swordthains, and even from this distance, he heard the hoarse bellow of Athanaric’s commands, ordering the swordthains to hold fast.

But the swordthains ignored him, and charged at the wheeling riders, shields raised, swords drawn back to stab. 

###

Molly watched the Tervingi swordsmen rush at the horse archers.

To her surprise, she felt a twinge of fear. Not for herself – she had long ago lost her fear of death, and sometimes thought it would be a welcome release from the endless rage of her Demonsouled blood. And she doubted a single one of those wretched Tervingi could come close to killing her. 

They couldn’t kill her…but they might be able to kill Romaria. 

Romaria, who alone did not fear Molly. Mazael’s men and servants regarded her with terror, the peasants held her in fear, and the lords and knights of the Grim Marches thought she was a half-mad witch woman. Not that Molly cared what anyone thought. 

But it was nice to have someone look at her without fear.

“Good,” said Lord Richard, watching the horse archers. “Now.”

His standardbearer nodded, and the trumpets blew a series of blasts.

A massive shout rang out, and the horse archers split into smaller groups, opening a path for the knights and the mounted armsmen on the wings. Another blast of the trumpets, and the heavy horsemen surged forward, lances leveled. Toraine Mandragon commanded on the right, the crimson dragon of the House of Mandragon and the hanged man of Hanging Tower billowing in the wind.

The black banner and three crossed swords of the Cravenlocks flew on the left, where Mazael commanded.