Rise of the Dead Prince (6 page)

7
The Battle for Targov

M
eier explained his plan to the generals. Again, they seemed to think the young prince was more than a little crazy. Still, he was their commander, and if he chose not to listen to their wisdom, that was his prerogative. Only one general seemed to think the plan was brilliant. It all came down to morale. According to the messages that he had received from Targov, they would arrive before the Gunars. That much was excellent news. The bad news was the report of their numbers. It was only after this that the other generals began to agree with the young prince’s gambit. When facing a superior force, the best path to victory was through trickery. This much they understood. The problem was that if the enemy read the plan, the Valahians would be annihilated. Meier assured them that the plan was their best chance. He had read about a similar plan in one of his history books. Of course, it hadn’t worked then, but the principal was sound. He just needed to take the time to go over it with every captain. He would do it personally. That way there would be no confusion, since every man would hear exactly the same t
hing.

The first part of the plan was to make it to Targov that very night and then rest in the city until morning. The thought of a warm bed heartened the men. But Meier told them they would have to earn it. The march would last until after sunset, probably by two hours or more. Was it worth it to them to sleep outside a tent? Yes it was, they said. The die was cast. The men pushed themselves hard, having been motivated by Meier’s words; and in record time, they saw the spires of Targov’s castle. They made the last leg of the journey at double time and arrived just after sunset. When his mother and brothers saw the arrival, they were dumbfounded. Their entire city cheered and cheered at the approaching troops. Upon entering the castle gates, Meier was hailed by his mother before he could even dismount in the court
yard.

“How did you arrive so quickly?” asked Queen Mira, with Assur and Ian there with
her.

“We were motivated by the great need,” explained M
eier.

“Where did the extra men come from? Three thousand?” asked Assur, smiling. Meier smiled
back.

“I recruited them on the way,” he said casually. Meier’s family exchanged glances. Ian just rushed forward and hugged him, laug
hing.

“You’ve given us a real chance, little brother!” he said and then saluted him. The generals did the same. Everyone thought the same thing. How could Meier have been so secretly amazing this whole time without anyone noti
cing?

The infantry men collapsed and took their rest. Every man had a bed given to him. The citizens of Targov were all too happy to oblige. The Gunars were estimated to arrive the next day at noon. This was plenty of time. They were still outnumbered though, twenty-one thousand to twenty-eight thousand. Also, the enemy was better equipped and better trained. The Valahians were still the under
dogs.

Meier bid his infantry generals and captains to gather. This was a large crowd, given that twelve thousand men required many captains. Ian, Assur, and Mira were present for his speech. They would inform the cavalry and castle defense captains. He addressed them in secret in the war room. It was standing room only. Who knew what enemy spies or scouts might overhear a group announce
ment?

The plan would only work if it was a surprise. Meier drilled the specifics of the plan so that no man was confused by the time they closed the meeting. Mira agreed that it was a brilliant ploy and ordered the men to follow Meier’s command as though it were her
own.

That night, Meier paid a visit to Crocus before he retired. The old man had been expecting
him.

“Hail, Meier, hero and beloved prince of Valahia!” he said with a laugh. Meier sighed. He must be joking. One or two fair days of command did not a hero
make.

“I’ll ask you to spare me your sarcasm please, especially since I’ve come to thank you, you crazy old bat,” Meier retorted. At first he had said this seriously, but soon he found himself smiling as
well.

“I wasn’t being sarcastic, young man. Assuming you aren’t called a hero already, you soon will be. You are destined for great things, my boy. Don’t look down on yourself,” Crocus said seriously. Meier crossed the room to the old wizard’s mirror. He wondered if Crocus could perform his magic at any time or was it something he had to prepare for? Now he wished he had stayed awake for old man’s seemingly endless lecture. Real magic? The thought was unheard of, and yet he had seen it. Maybe Crocus could help with the war effort. If nothing else, maybe he could whip up a large batch of that nasty potion for the
men.

“That potion was what you thanked me for, I assume. Well, if you knew the truth, you might not, I think,” Crocus said, as if reading his mind. Meier was confused but almost afraid to
ask.

“What are you talking about? That potion turned me from a nobody into a field general. It’s amazing,” he said. Crocus laughed lo
udly.

“That potion did nothing, because it’s not magic, and it has no use whatsoever. I just wanted to give you a little boost. You became a general all on your own. When the time came, you answered the call. As for the potion being so disgusting, that was a joke. Pretty funny, eh?” Crocus said and began to laugh so hard that he almost fell over. Just as he seemed finished, he started laughing all over again, all the while wiping tears from his eyes. This went on for a while. Meier just stood there with his arms crossed, giving Crocus his most withering gaze. No, it had
not
been f
unny.

“How did you know your ‘potion’ would help me? I might have stayed scared and cowardly despite your ridiculous ‘boost.’ You took a chance, and you know it,” Meier said. He was perturbed. He thought about the sheer nastiness of the potion and shuddered. Did he really have to make it so revol
ting?

“Everything we do is a chance, my boy. Now is as good a time as any for you to learn that. Besides, I’m a wizard. I know things,” Crocus said with a wink. Meier yawned wi
dely.

“Anything I should know for tomorrow?” he a
sked.

“Not really, no. Just do your best,” replied Crocus. Meier scoffed. Did the old man not understand the gravity of the situa
tion?

“How can you be so calm at a time like this? Don’t you know what we’re facing out there?” Meier asked angrily. He realized suddenly that he was almost yelling. He took a step back and calmed
down.

“Panicking solves nothing, my boy. I’m just as concerned as you are. It’s you, young Meier. You are the one that needs to be cool. More than anyone else, you have the power to make a difference. So like I said
…
do your best!
” Crocus said, grabbing Meier shoulders. With furrowed brow, Meier excused himself from the old man’s room. Do his best? Some help he had
been.

The morning came quickly. Tensions were high in every corner of the city. An hour past dawn, the men were assembled and ready for the fight. The generals agreed the battle should take place in the large expanse of field just west of town. And there they were! The Gunar force loomed on the western horizon. Even from the city, their approach shook the ground and rumbled in the distance like an earthquake. The sunlight from the east reflected off their armor, as bright as the rising sun. It was enough to make anyone lose their courage. Luckily, the three princes and their mother were there to hearten
them.

Within another hour, the Valahians had taken their place on the field. This time, they took a strange formation. The infantry would be the middle as always, but they were gathered together like an unorganized rabble. Besides this, they were grouped up right at the front, vulnerable and exposed! Assur’s heavy riders made the wings that were on either side, and Ian’s skirmishers and the other archers were far in the back. They couldn’t do very much good from back
there!
The whole setup looked crazy and hastily put together. It was against everything that generals on either side had been taught. The Gunars took one look and knew they had won. They adjusted their attack to match what they
saw.

The Gunar cavalry lined up to match the Valahian cavalry. They would clash near the middle, as was the usual way. No, it was the Gunar infantry who would have to adjust. Rather than attacking in a long line, they tightened into a reverse wedge, much like a claw. They would charge straight in and surround the rabble then slaughter row after row until they were annihilated. Besides this, the Valahians had left themselves wide open to archers in back. What easier target could there be than a huge mass of men? The Gunar generals convened quickly. The one danger was that a large force of Valahians would escape the field by running away in droves. These would have to be run down without mercy. They gave the order to follow the Valahians no matter where they ran, just as Meier knew they would. It was all coming toge
ther.

The horns sounded! The charge mounted, and both cavalries shot across the field. But Assur and his men were slow to start, as if by some crucial accident. The Gunars closed the distance yard by yard, while Assur finally made his start. It was when half the distance past the middle ground had been closed by the Gunar cavalry that the Valahians finally mounted their charge, and then the heavy horses cla
shed.

“Foolish Valahians!”
yelled the Gunar high general. They had left their infantry in a mass at the front, unprotected on all sides. It would be easier than they thought. The Gunars sent their infantry in at full speed. Surely the mob of Valahians would run away soon. They would need to catch
them.

Meier sat in the middle of this large rabble like a giant target. He and the other generals were the only men on horseback. The archers would be firing soon. No sooner considered than executed, the arrows lo
osed.

But the Valahians were ready. Every arm cast a previously hidden shield skyward. Thousands of arrows rained down like hail, punching through the wooden shields and sticking there, saving the men who held them. The moment of truth came. Everything must be perfect. Meier shouted the order to the capt
ains.

“Charge!” he yelled, and the flag bearers spread the word. But no one moved! Not one man cha
rged.

“Charge!” he yelled again. The men began to scream in fear. The enemy soldiers saw this and quickened their pace. More importantly, the Gunar generals saw it. A rabble who will not follow or
ders?

“Run them all down! Let none escape!”
yelled their captains. The Gunar infantry began to sprint, breaking their own line. The fastest men were in front, while the others lagged behind. The Valahian infantry started to rout! Every man for himself, they ran like rabbits from a hound. It was total chaos. Meier cried out and then turned to stay amidst them in the middle, all the while shouting his orders. No one listened to these. It was obvious to all that it was going to be a complete loss, devastating and decisive. At least it was obvious to one-half of the f
ield.

What happened next took place very qui
ckly.

When the Gunar infantry was less than one hundred yards away, sprinting due east in pursuit of the routing Valahians, it was clear. They were so spread out that they had become just like the Valahian rabble. It was
time.

“Split!” yelled M
eier.

The forces listened this
time.

One-third of his men turned and ran northwest, while another third ran southwest. The rest turned and quickly formed into a perfect line facing west. The noose had been slipped. The Gunars fell right into the trap, clamped in the very same claw formation they had used. Ian and skirmishers opened up with the other archers, firing eight thousand arrows in unison into the back ranks of the charging Gu
nars.

Meanwhile at the front, the Gunars were too spread out to fix their line before the clash. They crashed against the Valahian wall like a wave on the rocks. The Gunar archers were now too far out of range to retaliate. They scrambled to run forward, but they were of no more
use.

Meanwhile, the two cavalries were evenly matched. Many men fell on each side. The Gunars were winning because of their numbers. If something wasn’t done, the whole cavalry, with Prince Assur among them, would be lost. But this had been planned as
well.

Ian rode to the rescue. His forces split down the middle and rode in the torrent formation and began attacking the Gunars with expert shots at close range. It made all the difference. The skirmishers had turned the
tide.

Meanwhile, the Valahian infantry closed in like a vice, attacking the numerically superior Gunars from three sides. The Gunars, seasoned though they were, found themselves in complete disarray. Meier pressed his men to hold their lines, all the while ordering the archers to fire without mercy into the middle where the trapped Gunars fought desperately. It had suddenly become the most one-sided battle in Valahian history. Soon the Gunar forces were decimated. Their generals sounded the retreat, but they need not have. Their men had already begun to retreat through any hole they could find. Even their untouched archers fled without firing another
shot.

The Valahians had just won a heroic and decisive victory, using a strategy that would soon be known as “Meier’s ga
mbit.”

8
The Greatest Threat

T
he three princes of Valahia rode home with their heads held high. The victorious army marched through the streets of Targov, surrounded by cheers and thrown flowers on all sides. The reception was long and loud. The musicians played, and the singers sang as the dancers da
nced.

The city had been saved! No voice was silent. The citizens of Targov cheered until their voices grew hoarse. A grand celebration commenced. Queen Mira opened the castle’s cellar and rolled out barrel after barrel of wine. The people of the city dug deep into their larders to host a giant feast for their heroes. No glass or plate was empty. The castle was full to capacity with soldiers and reve
lers.

Meier had become the center of the celebration. Every man, woman, and child seemed to be waiting to greet him. He had never been so adored in his life. The men hugged him, and the women kissed him. The children gazed up at him with large eyes and squeezed his hand or hugged his legs. He was completely overwhelmed. Assur and Ian received similar treatment, but they knew that it was their little brother who had won the most love that day. Meier’s name seemed to be on everyone’s to
ngue.

Meier smiled and laughed until he thought his lips would crack. The brooding prince had come into his own. Standing in the great hall, he suddenly felt a strange chill, as though some cold hand had just patted him on the back. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw him. Crocus was standing on the balcony, looking down on the celebration. His eyes were locked with Meier’s. Unlike every other smiling face in the room, Crocus looked concerned
…
upset
even. No one took notice of the old man but Meier. Something was not quite right. Meier knew he needed to pay Crocus another visit. With great effort and apology, he managed to excuse himself from the line of people waiting to get to him. Climbing the stairs that overlooked the great hall, he made the mistake of looking down at all the people in the
room.

“Meier!” yelled Queen Mira over the din. Her voice was much stronger than anyone would have guessed, except for her boys, of course. Growing up, the princes of Valahia had been yelled at across great distances on more than one occasion. The great hall went silent. Meier had a brief thought of escaping, but one look at his mother’s eyes told him that if he did, he would never hear the end of it, hero or not. He stopped where he was and called over the
rail.

“Yes, Mother?” Queen Mira stood up and raised her glass. All in the hall did the
same.

“To my son, Prince Meier!” she yelled and toasted. A flood of glasses were suddenly drained. But she was not finished with him. “What say you, Prince of Valahia? Say a few words, Meier!” she said across the hall. Great. Meier had never been called on to make a speech. He firmly decided that it would be a very
short
one. He started with the ba
sics.

“Uh yes.
Thank you
, Mother,” he said facetiously. She did not stop smiling even for a second. Mothers did so love to torture their children like this. Meier conti
nued.

“To everyone that fought today for Valahia and to everyone that was here, ready to fight, I say
thank you,”
he said, and there followed a pause for the voices to quiet once more. Meier’s voice grew so
mber.

“And to everyone who died today for their country in the field, I say that we will
remember you
.” Meier paused again. This time, there was perfect silence in the hall. The young prince hesitated. With a sigh, he finally decided that he would say what he was thinking. He just hoped it didn’t sour the eve
ning.

“Listen all of you
…
I hate to say this now, but our fight is not over. We have won a great victory today, yes, but this is not the end. Targov is safe for now, but what about the rest of Valahia? We must rise up again and move! Our brothers in the west are still suffering at the hands of the Gunars, and until we stand victorious on our own border looking westward, we cannot truly celebrate. I am sorry everyone.
Tonight
we celebrate one battle.
Tomorrow
I will ride to finish a war. Those of you who marched from your homes in the east, I cannot ask you to follow me any further then you already have. Those who would leave may do so with honor. Those who would stay with me and my brothers, you have my deepest thanks. Our path is clear. We ride in the morning to finish what the Gunars started when they dared to cross our borders! I will not rest until every one of them is pushed out of Valahia for good!” Meier saluted the crowd. All was still silent. Meier felt a rising sense of dread. Had they not like
d it?

Despite his generally self-depreciating manner, he thought the speech had been pretty good. And if he had thought so, surely someone else
…
but his thought was broken by a sudden and jarring sound. The entire hall exploded with cheers. It was deafening. Meier felt as though he would be knocked backward from the sheer volume of it. Looking down, he could see the tears in his mother’s eyes. Her gloomy boy had become an inspirational man. Everyone continued cheering at him. Meier waved and quickly plotted his escape. Slowly backing away, he quickly made for the stairs as surreptitiously as he could, like a small child who had just broken something. In truth, it was a fairly graceless maneuver, but no one c
ared.

Crocus was waiting at the top of the stairs with a sort of glazed look on his face. Meier ran right past him and into the first corridor, out of the sight of the raging crowd. Crocus smiled and then politely followed
him.

“Nice speech,” he said, smiling. Meier sighed in exhaustion. He had sweat on his forehead. “I told you you’d be a hero,” said Crocus, “but now you’ve got bigger problems than you’ve ever had before. Something is coming, Meier, and it’s not the Gunars. It’s much, much w
orse.”

This explained the old man’s concerned face. Meier was perplexed, but he had quickly learned in the past few days that when Crocus spoke, he had better li
sten.

“What is it, Crocus? What could be so bad?” Meier asked. Crocus just sighed and motioned for the young man to follow. Together they walked to the old man’s chambers. Once inside, Crocus closed the door and walked over to the mirror. It was shattered from the middle outward, as though someone had hit it with a ha
mmer.

“This happened earlier today while I was doing some research,” Crocus explained. He took the mirror down from the wall. Walking across the room, he pulled the cloth from another mirror that was on the ground propped against the wall. “I took this one from your room. I hope you don’t mind. I told the guards you wouldn’t,” Crocus said. Meier shrugged and no
dded.

“All right by me, I suppose,” he said. Crocus went to lift the mirror and gru
nted.

“Give an old man a hand, would you?” he asked, looking especially old as he did so. Meier picked up his mirror and hung it on the wizard’s wall while the old man lit a few more candles. “So,” Crocus said, “I was here in my room, and I asked my mirror a question. I thought I had a good guess going about what the answer was, but I was very wrong.” Meier’s interest was piqued. He was still wondering about something th
ough.

“So can you just do this trick whenever you want or—” Meier said, but he was cut
off.

“No,” said Crocus with uncharacteristic curtness, “but now is not the time for all of that. We’re getting to the point.” Crocus stood in front of the mi
rror.

“What did you ask?” asked Meier. Crocus shushed
him.

“You’re about to find out, silly boy.” Crocus cleared his throat and started again. The old man closed his eyes and stood in silence for a few seconds. When he opened his eyes, there was something very strange about them. There was a pale glimmer of purple there, as though a tiny violet candle was reflecting off each eye. Crocus looked at the mirror and s
poke.

“What is the greatest threat to Valahia?” he asked in a deep and clear voice. Meier moved to stand beside the old man and watched as the mirror swirled. It turned to an image of a landscape, and then the image rushed across the fields and woods as though it was being carried by a bird. Suddenly, the fields turned black, and the trees began to wither. Then the mirror began to fog over. The image got darker and darker until, quite abruptly, it fogged over completely with a thick purple liquid. Meier went to take a step forward, but Crocus stopped him. The mirror began to glow with a sickly light as the ooze flowed across its in
side.

All at once, the black image of a clawed hand darted from the background straight to the foreground. It slammed into the mirror face and shattered it outward as though the hand had touched the mirror itself. Glass exploded everywhere, but Crocus lifted the sleeve of his robe to guard them both from the flying sh
ards.

“What was that?” asked Meier, stepping backward. Crocus turned to face
him.

“I don’t know, Meier, but I will tell you what I do know.” Crocus crossed the room to his desk, and Meier followed him silently. “Normally, a mirror can only show you the present, and briefly at that. A quick glimpse, if you will. That’s why you have to pick your question wisely and then pay close attention when you do.” Crocus opened a book on his desk and pointed to a passage that he scanned with his finger. Meier saw that the writing in the book was in foreign let
ters.

“This is a passage about anomalies,” said Crocus dryly. “That means ‘weird stuff’ to you. Anyway, a mirror seems to only show the future or past under certain circumstances. I won’t bore you with all my findings, but I have deduced this much. What I saw then and what we saw just now was probably the near future. It showed us this for a very specific reason.” Crocus turned to another page and then another, as if looking for a specific passage. Then he appeared to give up. Crocus shut the book altoge
ther.

“My theory is that the mirror was not showing us the actual future, but rather it showed us the future as it was being imagined at the time. Thoughts, of course, are always in the present, but they typically
depict
the past or future. Have I lost you yet?” Meier no
dded.

“Yes, Crocus, you have lost me quite thoroughly. I do have a question though.” Crocus perked up slig
htly.

“Hmm?” he asked wordle
ssly.

“How do you know that was the future?” Meier asked innoce
ntly.

Crocus sighed. “Because there were no
people
in it and because Valahia doesn’t look like that yet! It was like a nightmare. Tell me you noticed.
Please,
” said the old man, appearing to be in great pain. Meier just shrugged. Crocus began to massage the bridge of his
nose.

“Ahhhh,” he groaned. “All right, here I go again.” Crocus took a deep breath. “Here’s my theory, as clearly as I can state it. The greatest threat to Valahia is one very bad person. But it’s not exactly the person, so much as what they are going to do. Why the mirror couldn’t just show that person is still a bit of a mystery, but what we actually saw was the future as they saw it. We saw into their mind! Whoever it is, is thinking about the destruction of Valahia, and they are thinking of it even now. Now for the bad news. The mirror was smashed. That is never supposed to happen unless it is grievously overused. This terrible person must have more powerful magic than I have ever seen, and believe me
…
I’ve been around a very long
time.”

Crocus sighed and rubbed his temples. “Please tell me you have it now.” Meier stood still for a moment to digest the ramblings of the wizard. He tried it
out.

“It sounds like a bad wizard is planning on destroying Valahia? And since they’re thinking of it right now, that means it’s going to happen very soon?” Meier asked meekly. Crocus clapped and sm
iled.

“I couldn’t have said it better myself!” he exclaimed. This time, it was Meier’s turn to
sigh.

“Well, what do I do about it?” Crocus shook his
head.

“Nothing for now, sadly. I’ve been working on this all day now, and I don’t know of any way to stop what’s brewing. For now, you’ll have to keep fighting Gunars. I cannot change your destiny with magic,” Crocus said matter-of-factly. This time, Meier si
ghed.

“It makes me wonder, Crocus, why did you tell me then?” he asked. Crocus lau
ghed.

“Because your father never listens, my boy!” Meier shook his head and reto
rted.

“Well, if you ever showed him anything like this, he might, you crazy old person!” Crocus could be so frustra
ting.

“What makes you think I haven’t, Meier? Eh? I could show your father a mirror, and all he’d see is his own self-important expression staring back at him! He can’t see magic, my boy, simply because he does not believe it exists! Not one whit! It simply isn’t for him!” Crocus was getting worked up, pointing in Meier’s face and gesturing all over the place like a loon. Meier was intrigued, how
ever.

“So my father wouldn’t have been able to see any of that in the mirror that we just saw?” he asked earnestly. Crocus threw his hands up in exaspera
tion.

“Of course not, you silly idiot! His close-minded type never could. Didn’t I just say that?” Meier folded his arms and sm
iled.

“I was just asking for clarification, you deranged bat of a man,” said Meier, “and I assume my brothers couldn’t have seen anything either?” Crocus smiled slightly. At least he had calmed down
some.

“You assume correctly, my boy. At least, for now,” he said with a pat to the back, “Uh, except for the last bit. You know, where the mirror blew up. They would have seen that part and passed it off in whatever way they saw fit.” Crocus began to laugh at his own joke. Meier just shook his
head.