Rise of the Red Harbinger (32 page)

“You were so busy being ‘too cute’ up in Haedon.”

“Just wait until I’m better, ‘handsome fella’. I’ll push you off your horse.”

“Yeah, tough words for a man laid up in bed. Take on some soldiers next time we’re in trouble. Then you can talk.”

Baltaszar gulped down more coffee and nodded emphatically. “Oh, you’re going to bring that up, huh? Lucky for you…I’ll save the threats for now. Maybe next time I’ll do it on purpose. Then I can have Cara to myself when you’re out of the way.” Baltaszar couldn’t help but laugh at his own threats. “And I’ll have all the chocolate and coffee I want.”

Horatio pursed his lips, “I don’t like the coffee anyway; you can have it all. I did try the chocolate when I was traveling west through Galicea. It is pretty damn good. And who do you think Cara likes better? The one lying in bed because he couldn’t defend himself or the one who can take down dozens of soldiers with lightning?”

Baltaszar knew Horatio was joking, but he took some of those words to heart.
He’s right, I do have to start learning how to use this damn manifestation.
Baltaszar finished the cake and coffee and set down the tray beside him. “Just wait until I’ve had enough practice. Then we’ll see. Anyway, when are we leaving this city?”

“I’m going to buy some things at the market today. We’re out of supplies and Soren, the owner of the inn, has offered to finance whatever we need. I spent all of my coin before I got to Vandenar. Figured you didn’t have any either. We’ll stay tonight and leave tomorrow.”

“Why would he do that? Pay for us? Does he think you’re handsome too?”

Horatio laughed. “Everyone thinks I’m handsome. They can’t help it. Soren is a strong supporter of Descendants and does whatever he can to help any of us. And the truth is we really need some things if we’re going to make it to City of the Fallen and the House of Darian.”

“I’m not arguing. Do we even have horses?”

“We took one of the soldier’s horses. Don’t you remember?”

“I don’t really remember anything after getting hit.” A sense of relief seemed to wash over Horatio’s face. Baltaszar grew curious. “What’s that look for?”

Horatio’s face flushed. “It’s…nothing.”

“Oh come on, man. Tell me.”

“No, it’s just…it was sort of awkward having to ride on the horse together because I had to ride sitting right behind you and make sure you didn’t fall off.”

“Oh. Well. Yeah that’s a bit awkward. But still, you only did it because my life was in danger. I’m glad that you did.” Baltaszar laughed, “I’m also glad that I don’t remember any of it.”

Horatio loosened up at that, “Yeah, lucky you.”

“Anyway. I want to go with you when you go to the markets.”

“No way, you have to stay here and rest up. You need your strength for when we leave tomorrow.”

Baltaszar eased his legs over the side of the bed. His right thigh was throbbing and burning from the movement, causing Baltaszar to grimace. It took all of his will power to subdue the winces and groans that moving caused. “Look, you might be right. But the only way my leg is going to get better is if I use it.” He stood and put pressure on his left leg to maintain balance. Baltaszar then took a step to see how his right leg would hold up and he quickly had to recover by shifting his weight.

“See what I mean? You can barely walk.”

“Shut up. I just got up after lying in bed for a whole day. Let me get used to it. Go work your charm on Cara some more and when you’re ready to leave for the markets, come get me. I guarantee that I’ll be able to walk.”

Horatio rolled his eyes, but listened. “Fine. It’s still early enough in the day. You have a few hours to figure out how to walk before we leave for the markets. I’m going back to take a nap.” He arose from the foot of the bed and left the room.

Baltaszar was relieved at the solitude. Once Horatio was gone, he sat back on the bed and rubbed his thigh. It throbbed, burned, and ached. Baltaszar wasn’t even really sure why it was so important for him to go with Horatio and Soren. It would have been best for him to stay in bed and rest. He would feel foolish finally arriving at the House of Darian with a severe limp and unable to walk properly, if at all.

But deep down, Baltaszar felt embarrassed. Although Horatio was joking, the truth was that in his first experience in battle, Baltaszar had had absolutely no impact. Now he was being pampered and waited on because of it, even though he hadn’t done anything heroic. He was tired of being a victim. He wouldn’t survive in Ashur if everyone always had to take care of him.

Baltaszar gingerly got up again and limped considerably while his leg got used to the pressure. He gritted his teeth and let loose a few guttural growls as he hobbled laps around the room. The pain was severe but he could get used to it. In time it would be tolerable. Baltaszar realized now that he didn’t need to do this to prove anything to Horatio or Cara or anyone else. He needed to prove to himself that he was strong and resilient.

Baltaszar was fully awake and energized now. He was physically and mentally ready to get used to the pain. It would take a great deal of practice, but he had hours to do so. All he needed was the will power. And perhaps more chocolate cake and coffee. He peered through the door and yelled out for Cara.

Chapter 12

Hunters

From
The Book of Orijin
,
Verse Thirty-Six

You shall all endure pain and suffering. Man cannot truly appreciate joy without suffering. But We shall not bestow upon you more pain than you are capable of overcoming.

The night hadn’t
been as quiet as Garrison would have liked. Insects hummed and buzzed throughout the forest, as well as the screeches of owls and bats. Garrison crouched atop a high branch in a tall, leafy tree. Yorik and Marika had done the same in separate trees. Yorik had insisted that he would keep lookout first while Garrison and Marika slept, but Garrison refused to sleep when he knew the arrival of more soldiers was imminent. He doubted that Marika slept either.

The air remained thick and humid despite the sun having set hours ago. Garrison saw it as a boon, considering they didn’t dare start a campfire. He had argued with Yorik and Marika about whether to continue on or hide. The Taurani implored him to keep riding, but Garrison knew that the only way they would have a chance against the king’s soldiers would be the element of surprise. If the soldiers had caught up to them while on the run, there would be very limited options for the three of them. But waiting in the trees in the dark brought certain advantages. The moonlight penetrated the forest enough to see on the ground, but the trees were too dense for Garrison and the Taurani to be noticed.

Garrison had explained his plan to the two Taurani and they hesitantly acquiesced. They’d ridden throughout the day and there was no concealing that all three were tired, as were their horses. The Taurani agreed that it would be foolish to continue riding while there was a risk of any of them dozing off or losing focus. Hiding in the trees, whoever saw danger first would whistle out to the other two. At least if any of them fell asleep, they wouldn’t be exposed. And Garrison had given Yorik and Marika each pouches of Red Dust, which would be the first element of surprise. If anyone was sleeping, the boom of an exploding tree would wake them up.

Garrison groped the pouches in his pockets at the thought. He had given Kavon all of the Yellow Dust. Garrison hadn’t regretted it, but the Yellow was his favorite and would surely be useful against soldiers in the dark. Once he reached the House, he would promptly make more.

He briefly thought of Kavon and regretted losing him. Yorik and Marika expressed no sadness, or any emotion for that matter, regarding Kavon. Garrison supposed that they’d understood that death was a possibility on this journey. Garrison refused to entertain that notion, however. He was simply too stubborn to accept it as a possible outcome. He shook his head and returned his focus to the ground below.

Garrison felt the warrior in him returning. Although he personally hadn’t killed any soldiers earlier in the day, he’d been in the middle of conflict and had kept his head level. It was a reassuring sign that he still possessed what was necessary to reach the House, no matter what. He’d felt no regret about the soldiers’ deaths. In truth, a part of him welcomed the challenge of the chase. The soldiers would all underestimate him, he knew. He’d led so many of them to hunt down and kill Descendants over the past few years and most of the time it had been a relatively easy task, to the point that the soldiers had grown arrogant and pompous. By the time Garrison had become fed up with their conceit, he’d already stopped taking part in the hunts, so he’d seen no point in informing the soldiers that they’d only been so successful because of Donovan’s, Wendell’s, and his expertise and tactics. Without the three of them developing plans and strategies, most Descendants would have destroyed the battalions quite easily.

Let them come. Let them think they can defeat me.
A whistle came in the distance from Garrison’s right.
Yorik
. Garrison looked eastward. He couldn’t see anything, but the ground softly rumbled.
They are smart to not have torches.
The rumble grew louder and in moments Garrison could see shadows moving from the east. Garrison began to distinguish the sound of barks and yelps from the rumble.
Dammit. Dogs.
Marika had encouraged them to leave the horses a good mile ahead and then walk back. That would likely buy them several minutes of going undetected. Enough time to watch the soldiers’ movements and wait until the precise moment to strike.

Despite the thick foliage of the trees, the dogs would eventually sniff out Garrison and the Taurani. But with the horses hopefully far enough away, the dogs would need a few moments to specifically locate Garrison, Marika, and Yorik. It would prevent each of them from acting too quickly. Judging by the rumble of the ground, Garrison estimated that this squadron was about half the size of the one that had attacked them earlier in the day. With any luck, they could dispose of these soldiers without any serious injuries.

Shadows raced across the ground beneath Garrison. For nearly a minute the dogs raced from tree to tree. Another whistle came from the right. Yorik had been spotted. Seconds later, about the same time the barking started at the base of his own tree, Garrison heard a whistle from his left. All three of them had been found. Garrison had instructed Marika and Yorik to wait until soldiers had surrounded their trees. If any of them had acted too hastily, it would only leave them with dead dogs and exposed to the soldiers.

The battalion had separated. Garrison heard shouts from his left while another group of soldiers reached the barking dog at his tree. More soldiers moved on to where another pair of dogs barked at Marika. One soldier spoke up and yelled, “Garrison! Taurani! If you come down now without a fight, we will kill you quickly! If you make this difficult, we shall make all of your deaths slow! Painful!”

Garrison remained still. The key would be to not give away their exact locations in the trees. He’d instructed the Taurani to do the same and to not speak. He and Yorik had both taken the bows and arrows while Marika volunteered to use a spear. She’d felt more confident with her accuracy that way. Garrison pulled a red pouch and a small vial of oil from his pocket. He doused the pouch with the oil and rested it on his thigh. Of all the pouches, the Red took the longest to react, allowing for time to draw the soldiers closer.
One.
Garrison slowly pulled the bow from around his shoulder.
Three.
He then unsheathed an arrow from the quiver on his back.
Six.
He nocked it meticulously and aimed at the soldier closest to the tree.
Eleven.
Garrison had instructed the Taurani that the pouches would explode at a count of twenty-two after dousing them. They were to leave them as near the center of the tree as they could. Each of them had deliberately hidden in a part of the tree where many branches met the trunk.
Twelve.
The group of soldiers still searched the tree for him. They’d all craned their heads upward, leaving their necks exposed. Garrison pulled the bowstring back and fired. The unassuming soldier dropped to the ground as the arrow sliced through his neck and Garrison quickly returned the bow to his shoulder.
Fifteen.
The rest of the soldiers crowded in to discover what happened.
Seventeen.
They quickly readied their own bows and aimed at the tree.
Eighteen.
Garrison set the pouch on the tree, ran along a branch, and jumped as far out as he could. As his feet hit the ground, his right ankle rolled and he grunted loudly. Garrison stumbled and collapsed. His knee burned like streaks of fire were shooting through it. As the soldiers turned to face him, Garrison curled up and covered his head.

The tree exploded in a brilliant flash of red light, hurling several soldiers through the air. Shards of the trunk and branches shot out from the midst of where the remaining soldiers stood. The blast had been so violent that some soldiers were impaled through their armor by shards of wood, while others had been hit directly in the neck or face, dying instantly. Others were simply knocked to the ground. Garrison grinned widely despite the pain in his leg. For those who survived, it would take them several moments to recover. He would have to attack first, but his knee and ankle would not cooperate with standing up.

Garrison heard an explosion in the distance to his right. Another sounded a few moments later to his left. He could only hope that Yorik and Marika were successful. More than a dozen soldiers around him were standing and looking around. Garrison heard another rumble in the distance as he struggled to rise from his hands and knees.
More soldiers coming? Damn it!

The rumble turned into the beating of hooves; Garrison guessed more than two dozen. He fingered his belt for more dust pouches as the new battalion neared. The soldiers around him yelled and screamed and some even fell to the ground. Garrison looked up to see the new soldiers engaging the others in combat. He shook his head and looked again as more soldiers rode past toward Marika. The new battalion wore the same armor and helmets. The only difference was that the horse-hair ridges of their helmets were colored differently-definitely not the red of the Royal Vermilion Army.

Garrison couldn’t make sense of the situation, but he was grateful for the help. Swords clanged all around and Garrison cautiously crawled toward a tree for cover. Soldiers from both sides were falling. Though the red battalion had been bigger, the yellow was gaining the upper hand. Garrison fought the urge to find a weapon and fight. The pain in his leg had become so severe that the urge to clasp his knee controlled him.

The fighting seemed to diminish, as Garrison could hear less and less yelling and screaming. He craned his neck from the side of the tree and realized what had actually occurred. He thought he recognized some of the soldiers in the new battalion. They were part of Wendell’s personal battalion.
They really rode all this way down?
The thought filled Garrison with confidence and adrenaline. He used the tree to pull himself up, then braced against the trunk. From the light of burning trees, Garrison realized the new battalion’s helmets bore yellowish and brownish ridges.             

As Garrison looked up, a helmetless soldier charged toward him, sword in hand. The scowl on the man’s scarred faced left no confusion about whether he was friend or foe. Garrison staggered backward away from the tree as the soldier neared. The attacker leapt as he reached the tree, then convulsed violently as a spear impaled his head from the side and slammed him into the tree. The spear had pierced the tree trunk, leaving the limp soldier slumped against it. Garrison looked to his right where, several yards away, Donovan flashed him a toothy grin. Garrison nodded back and dropped to his hands and knees.

The fighting had finished, but very few soldiers remained standing. Garrison judged that Wendell’s squadron had originally numbered just over twenty. Even after the exploding trees had killed some soldiers, Wendell would likely have still been outnumbered. Garrison sat back and stretched out his leg.

“Looks as if we came just in time!” Wendell crouched down and sat beside Garrison. Donovan followed with three other soldiers and Yorik.

“Not a chance, Ravensdayle. I had this taken care of.” Garrison laughed before even finishing his sentence.

Donovan cut in, “Of course you did, brother. Old Clint hanging from the tree back there is proof that you would have handled everything perfectly.”

Garrison turned to his right to see a bloodied Marika returning with two more soldiers. “Marika! Are you hurt?”

Marika retorted quickly, “I have had much worse.” She and the two soldiers sat down and joined the arbitrarily arranged circle. Garrison looked around at the others; they were all exhausted. Two of the soldiers had already laid back and were asleep.

“What now, Prince?” asked Wendell.

“Do not call me that. It is no longer my title. Donovan is the sole prince now. Treat him as if he is sole heir to the throne.”

Donovan challenged Garrison’s assertion. “But once you return from the House, you would regain your claim to the throne. I would not interfere with that, Garrison.”

“I know, Donovan. But the King has renounced my title. Lawfully, you are the sole heir. And that is how you must act and think. I have no idea how long I will be at the House of Darian. You may be in a position to succeed the throne before I even return. That is why you must set it in your mind that you are the future king. If something happens to our father while I am at the House of Darian, and you are required to succeed him, I would not dare ask you to step down at any time after that.”

“But…”

“There is no ‘but.’ That is how it must be. Everyone here is a witness.” The others nodded their heads.

Wendell spoke up again. “That is all good and well, but back to my original question. What now? I think it would be best for us to sleep through the night and then leave for the House at dawn.”

Garrison shook his head and massaged his aching knee and ankle. “No. You are not going to the House. Especially not you and Donovan. The two of you are too valuable to be risking your lives now. You will travel back to Alvadon and prepare the Royal Vermilion Army. Our soldiers are too arrogant and have lost sight of how to fight properly and intelligently. Jahmash’s return is apparently imminent. You must have our soldiers ready in time.”