Holding The Line (17 page)

He did not have to say anymore, and the young lad darted off across the yard and vanished through the doors. A stable hand walked over and gladly took his horse away for him, "I will need it back in about an hour or so." The aid bowed, "of course sire." He walked around the yard waiting for Levin to return, and spent his time watching the builders putting the roof trusses on a new building.

He did not wait long, as Levin ran back out towards him. Catching his breath first, "He says you are welcome anytime sire. He is in his office on the top floor, come on I'll take you." Issac patted his aide on the back, "come on then Levin, sorry to make you clamber all those stairs again." Levin smiled back, "I don't mind sire."

Once up on the top floor, the Murati prince waited while Levin, tapped the door, and checked it was okay for them to enter. They were permitted, and Issac bowed his head, as the King stood from behind his desk. "Come in Issac, you wanted to see me? Take a seat; I'm only looking through paperwork." Issac nodded and sat down, and told the king of his most recent idea. Having witnessed firsthand just a little while earlier of the two armies helping each other, he asked if the king thought it possible to make it an official thing. "You could send recruits to us, and we could do likewise to you your majesty. Our forces use different variations of weaponry; it can only be beneficial for our men to train with them."

Caldar actually did not need to think about it, "I think Issac it is a most splendid idea." The Murati prince smiled; quite pleased their earlier misdemeanours were behind them. Despite originally wanting a few minutes of Caldar's time, the two were so taken with the idea; they sat and talked about it for nearly an hour. Already, before any agreement was signed, the Murati had agreed to send fifty of their own recruits. They would stay and train with those of Corlan for a period of six weeks.

To ensure no problems arose, it was decided a senior officer or similar accompany the recruits. This person would be responsible for ensuring they acted and behaved accordingly. The two men shook hands on the deal, and despite their being nothing in writing, the two agreed that was sufficient for now.

With a spring in his step, Prince Issac mounted his horse, "It is time for goodbye my young friend," he said to Levin who had hold of the reins. "Travel safely your highness and perhaps we shall meet again," the young man said. "I am sure we will Levin, here I have a gift for you. Despite our initial... well let us forget about that bit. Well to say you have been a great help, and as a thanks I want you to have this." Levin stood astounded, as the prince unbuckled his sword and passed it to him. "I spend more time taking the damn thing off than keeping it on, go on take it." He was lost for words, and did not even get a chance to express his own gratitude before the Murati had taken the reins and trotted off out of the yard. He did manage a wave as the prince looked back, before disappearing out of sight.

Levin pulled the blade from the sheath, and was astounded at the quality. Having a blacksmith for a father, he had seen a few blades before, but this was something else. It glistened in the bright sunshine, and had markings down the length of the blade. The handle he was certain was inlaid with what looked like a lion set in gold. Even the belt and sheath were of outstanding quality, and he quickly put it on.

It was a little big for him, but he managed to get it reasonably comfortable. Trying not to trip over the thing he quickly walked back into the keep. Now Prince Issac had left, he would be working for General Skalton again. He quite enjoyed working with the old man, except he did not pay quite so well as the Murati prince. After lunch he thought, he would ride out to the camp and show Jak his gift. Life, he thought was certainly taking a turn for the better. After everything that had happened, he had been fortunate enough to meet, work and live with all these wonderful people.

In Casham, Lord Willem stood around a table with his officers. The most detailed map they had lay across the surface, and the men discussed at length their plan of action. The time for sitting around was at an end, it was now time for engaging the enemy. With his operatives working inside the city, he told his men he wanted to be inside the palace of Bashek before winter.

To achieve this they first needed to deal with the North Besemians blocking their path northwards. The enemy were dug in barely a mile or so away, and ideas were being put about on how to flush them out. While he had been away, there had been instances of sabotage in his own camp. He was now concerned he was not the only one with operatives behind enemy lines.

The men around the table he knew he could trust, and told each that what they discussed was not to go beyond those walls. A number of horses had been set loose, and someone had attempted to set alight a large number of supplies. Fortunately, on both counts, these infringements had been spotted early. The horses had been rounded up, and the flames doused before any serious damage could be caused.

Since his return, his own officers also ensured Lord Willem now never went anywhere without a substantial guard. If there were undercover operatives working amongst them, the ultimate target would be him. For now at least, they had persuaded him to remain in doors for a majority of the time. When he ventured outside, they ensured all the surrounding area was checked first.

After some hours of discussions it was settled, the first action would take place later that night. With recent security issues at stake, the men would not know anything until the last minute. They would be told they were doing drills, and at the last moment told to the contrary. The attack would not be anything significant, and deemed low risk. It was merely to let the northern troops know they were in for an uncomfortable time. The attack would be classed as one that lessened the enemy morale.

With the last light of day disappearing, the sun dropping down beneath the horizon, the South Besemians were starting to settle down for the night. That was apart from a relatively small number. About one hundred and fifty men were kept busy going through pointless drills. As they were just beginning to think that they too would be finished, they were grouped together and issued orders.

Somewhat surprised, they collected the necessary equipment needed, before moving up to the front line. They were not going on horseback, and with the enemy not far away could make the distance easily on foot. They all lined up waiting for complete darkness, to cover them moving from beyond the defensive lines. With the night falling, and the stars becoming visible, now was the time.

Slowly they edged forward, utilising the light from the enemies own fires to know the location of their target. They were to get within a few hundred paces of the North Besemian lines, and wait for a single blast of a horn. The men took up their positions, and stopped awaiting the signal to attack. It was not to be anything bold, just a quick hit and run. Each man was to release four arrows, aiming for the areas around the campfires themselves.

It was assumed at that time of night that the enemy would no doubt be sitting around them, preparing for their evening meal. After firing, each was to retire as quickly as possible and retreat to the safety of Casham. They crouched low down to the ground waiting.

A single blast of a horn sounded, and each man stood, drawing and firing in quick succession. Whether many of the arrows actually hit anything, they would not know for sure. However, a few cries could certainly be heard amongst the shouting voices in the enemy camp. As quickly as they had attacked, they were all to run the distance back in hope they would be safe, just in case, on the off chance, the enemy saw fit to hunt them down.

The men were to make Casham there point of return, and a number of lamps had been lit, to guide them through the night. As each returned, they were counted in, and within ten minutes of the horn sounding the attack, every soldier was back, and accounted for. The lamps were put out and the troops holding the front line were put on alert for any sign of movement, in what had become known as no man's land; the gap between the two forces.

Lord Willem waited in his rooms for news, and did not have to wait long before one of his officers came to report. The raid had gone without a hitch, and all the men were safely back and accounted for. As things stood, it appeared the north had not attempted any chase out into the darkness, in pursuit of his men. "Make sure the men are alert to any sort of reprisals, there is nothing to stop them carrying out a similar tactic."

This of course was true, but in fairness, even if that were the case the two camp layouts were very different. The North Besemians were dug in, and camped within a set of ditches and spikes. The south was held behind a long line of the same, though the men camped out of range of enemy fire. Even so, Lord Willem wanted his troops to be alert just in case such an occurrence should happen.

Evening in New Easton finally saw a chance for Caldar and Luken to have a more relaxed setting to their meal. With Prince Issac of Murati now departed, back on his travels home, it meant the families could once more sit together. Arthur and his boys, Hunter and his brother Reece, Jak and Levin all joined the royals for a more relaxed dinner.

With Dareen looking after Hope, Sarena was able to sit beside her husband and Taylor, whilst Vanessa was once more able to return to Caldar's side. Arthur was telling them all of the progress made in building their inn, and Vanessa had to tell him off, as his language got a little colourful, and had to remind him he sat with the king. "I'm sure he's heard it all before," he replied not caring. Then she also reminded him there were children present, and he shook his head mumbling and cursing under his breath, much to the amusement of the others.

He told them they had the footings in, and the cellar dug. The walls for that room needed doing next, and then it was a case of putting the complex set of framework up. He asked Caldar if there was any chance that he could get a little help on the project, unfortunately he had been told as things stood that was not going to happen. Housing had to take priority, and if he wanted to build an inn, then he would have to do so himself, which lead to more words not apt for a dinner table.

Edward and Hunter were also undertaking their own building project, and despite there structure being much smaller and simpler, were still a long way off. They also had the footings in place, and the necessary sewerage piping running into their property. However, it was hoped, once the main timber frame was up, and as they were only using the wood panel sections, they would be ready for the roof within a few weeks.

Taylor behaved perfectly, and on returning to their rooms, he did not ask his dad for a story. Much to Luken's surprise, the young lad, got himself undressed, and into his nightclothes, before picking a storybook, and sitting on Sarena's lap for her to read to him. Luken was therefore left twiddling his thumbs, and the feeling of being left out. He did not really mind, as long as it meant Taylor had come to terms with her now being there. Moreover, if Taylor behaved, and slept in his own room, as he was supposed to, Luken hoped for a repeat performance of his wedding night.

Chapter 14.

With the retribution of the Darekian's in Bashek, after the killing of some of their guards, Jared and Kaden were still struggling to decide on a significant plan of action. They had since met twice more with the small number of resistance members helping them. The only act since the killings was to destroy a small amount of supplies that had been destined for the palace.

This had proved a rather pointless risk to take, as it appeared no one even missed them. Jared was now becoming agitated, and had taken to wearing the long dark cloak, and venturing out in the daytime. Kaden was a little calmer, and continued staying in the house they had found for their use, trying to plan properly.

Jared walked slowly along some of the side streets, and was surprised at how many properties appeared empty. It was if the people of Bashek were being slowly removed, a few at a time. He checked up and down the alley he was in, and when sure no one else was about, used his dagger to pry the lock of a door. He quickly let himself in, and pushed the door closed behind him.

The house was empty, as he had thought, and judging by the fact rotten food still sat on the tabletop, its occupants had either left in a hurry, or went out and never came back. He rummaged about; trying to judge what type of people may have once lived there. By the number of rooms, and beds he reckoned a family with children had once resided there, but could find no clues to their disappearance. There were still blankets on the beds, and spare clothes in set of wooden draws. In the kitchen was the stove and hanging from the low ceiling from hooks, a number of copper pans. The family who had resided here must have been reasonably well off. He even found a few simple items of women's jewellery in a small box, and though initially tempted, decided against taking it.

It was however no great secret that the Darekians did take people from their homes, for a variety of reasons. Some were tortured and killed, as an example to others. The greater number it was known were collected together, before being marched northwards. Jared wondered whether this family had succumbed to the latter of the two. It did occur to him, that it appeared these houses were not checked again, once empty.

Slipping back out of the door, he turned the corner onto an adjoining side street, and bumped into two men coming the other way. There was a silence, and for a moment, Jared thought his disguise, had been revealed. The two men were turncoats, the name given to Bashek citizens who served the Darekians. Jared kept his hooded head low, trying to keep the light off his face.

He noticed how the two men appeared unsure of him. If he were a Darekian, he would surely be admonishing them, as they were inferior they should be apologising and pleading for mercy. He was certain one of the men had noticed his face was not tattooed, and was lowering his hand to his sword. Jared had already slipped out his dagger, under his cloak. As quick as a flash he plunged the blade upward, into the first man's throat. Not dwelling, he pulled it back and lashed across the second man, catching him across the face.