The Invisible Chains - Part 2: Bonds of Fear (66 page)

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“Eh... Damydas? Yes. Why? You know him?”

“I’ve heard of him. When I was younger my half-brothers used

to tell stories about Damydash. It fits. He and Shigurtish are friends.

Not exactly rouwining, but close.”

“Shigurtish?”

“Third son of the first queen. He hopes to be the next quedash.

He also leads the army.”

Anaxantis looked at Timishi.

“What else can you... are you allowed to tell me?”

Timishi shrugged.

“You must understand. Shigurtish and a lot of my half-brothers

are in their late twenties and early thirties. Conversations tended to

stop abruptly when I came in hearing distance.”

Anaxantis thought about his older brothers Tenaxos and

Portonas.

“I know exactly what you mean.” A wry smile appeared on his

lips.

“He has the reputation of being a fierce and merciless man. That

much I do know.”

Both princes turned their heads as they heard Lethoras stand up

with Eymar in his arms.

“What are you doing?” Anaxantis asked.

“I’m going to lay him there, by the side of the road. He died a few

moments ago,” the Cheridonian answered. When he came back, he

asked “What do you want to do?”

“He has about twenty men there and we have forty Clansmen. So,

we outnumber them two to one—”

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“You forget that you also have eight Mukthars. We outnumber

them three to one. At least.” Timishi grinned.

“Ah yes, I forgot to count in Mukthar numbers. My bad.”

Timishi grin-shrugged.

“According to Eymar they’re more or less concentrated around

and in a little wood at the foot of the main hill. I know it’s not very

subtle, but let’s just storm into them,” Anaxantis said.

“Marvelous plan. Simple and direct. I like it.” The Mukthar prince

patted him forcefully on the back.

Anaxantis coughed.

“I’m so glad you approve,” he said. “Lethoras, you explain to the

Clansmen what they need to know. Make sure they understand. No

survivors. None. None at all.”

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When a group of six Black Shields came out of the little wood they

saw their captain hacking furiously with his sword on the prostrate

body of Jerruth. One arm was severed from the corpse, the upper

legs and the abdomen were one bloody mess. The baron himself had

blood splattered everywhere on his clothes and in his face.

“Why do you smile? Why do you smile? Stop smiling. Stop

smiling,” he kept yelling.

One of the men cautiously came up to him.

“Captain, stop. He’s dead. He’s long since dead.”

Damydas looked at him, his eyes wild, seemingly not

understanding. Then he looked at the body at his feet. Slowly what

the Black Shield had said began to make sense. He jolted out of his

stupor.

“Bury him, there, behind that bush.”

They were hardened men, still they shuddered when they lifted

Jerruth’s bloody remains. Trying not to look at it, one of them picked

up the arm.

“Now those two men there,” the baron ordered when they came

back. “You’ll find another one over there.” The baron indicated the

spot where Eymar had fallen.

Two Black Shields went to retrieve the body.

“Captain, there’s nobody here,” one of the soldiers called out.

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523

The baron walked quickly up to the place where he had seen

Eymar fall.

“By Zardok’s stinking hole, I’m certain it was here that he fell. My

dagger was firmly planted in his back. He can’t be far. Get some more

men and—”

At that moment loud noises of fighting came from the other side

of the wood.

“Emelasuntha,”
it shot through the baron’s head,
“Damn it, she

managed to break through.”

With his sword, still dripping blood, drawn and followed by the

five Black Shields, he ran in the direction of the fighting.

Anaxantis and his men stormed into Elmshill, much in the same

manner the baron and his Black Shields had done earlier. When they

reached the small wood, they saw three soldiers who were guarding

some twenty horses, tied up to the trees. The Clansmen attacked

them at once. Taken aback and hopelessly outmanned they lasted

barely five minutes.

“They could be somewhere in this patch of wood,” Anaxantis

said. “We better dismount as well.”

“Anaxantis, when you draw your sword keep the point slightly

up, not down. You’re not about to make holes for planting seeds,”

Lethoras said, once the whole group was on foot.

“Yes, mother,” the prince replied.

“And don’t forget to guard your left flank,” the Cheridonian added,

exasperated.

“No, mother.”

“There,” Timishi yelled, and ran off, not to the trees, but to the left

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where he had seen a group of Black Shields, covered in dust.

Instantly the other seven Mukthars followed their prince.

Anaxantis hesitated a moment and then followed suite. So did Rullio

and a few Clansmen who stood nearby.

“Lethoras,” he yelled, “take twenty men and begin investigating

those woods.”

Lethoras cursed.

“In your dreams,”
he thought furiously.

He turned around.

“Nordack,
you
take twenty men and do as he said. I’m after him.”

When he arrived at the scene of the fighting, the Mukthars had

already killed two Black shields. The remaining seven retreated in

closed formation. Anaxantis ran at them with drawn sword.

“Up, keep your sword point up,” Lethoras groaned. “He never

listens. Never, never.”

Three Mukthars halted and drew their daggers. A moment later

three Black Shields fell down, their throats pierced, blood spurting

out of their necks.

Anaxantis had engaged a Black Shield, far larger than himself.

So had Timishi. Suddenly Rodomesh leaped forward to Timishi’s

adversary. The Black Shield deflected his sword in the direction

of this new attacker, but his aim was far too high. Rodomesh had

let himself fall to the ground and rolled just behind him. With one

quick movement his dagger cut through the heavy leather boots,

through the flesh of his ankles and severed both his Achilles tendons.

Howling with pain the Black shield collapsed, dropping his sword. In

a fraction of a second Rodomesh sat on his chest, planting his dagger

in the man’s heart, putting his whole weight behind the thrust.

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Anaxantis had barely exchanged two blows with his opponent

when Shermy rolled behind him. He too fell down where he stood

and was dead moments later, a grinning Mukthar on his chest.

Lethoras saw with astonishment in his eyes the remaining Black

Shields drop down, one after the other. Rullio looked fascinated at

the scene before him.

It was over in less than ten minutes.

“Well, that was easy,” Timishi grinned. “Let’s hope there are

more.”

“Ten to go, but I want the baron alive,” Anaxantis said.

“Alive?”

“For a little while, yes.”

The clanging noise of metal upon metal, coming from between

the trees, told them that the Clansmen had found the remaining

Black Shields. By the time they had reached the place of the skirmish

the last of them buckled down, overwhelmed by sheer numbers.

Anaxantis counted another five dead bodies.

Side by side Emelasuntha and Sobrathi turned into the road to

Garstang, almost without slowing down.

“There,” Sobrathi shouted, reining in her horse, “that’s Eymar.”

She and the queen were kneeling beside the prostrate man in

seconds.

“Medic,” Emelasuntha called out.

A Tribesman joined them and began examining the limp body.

“Is he dead?” the queen asked.

“Difficult to say, my lady,” the medic answered. “He has a deep

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wound in his back, and whatever caused it damaged his spine. It

doesn’t look good.”

He rummaged in his satchel and produced a small vial. When he

opened it both women noticed a pungent smell emanating from it.

The medic held it under Eymar’s nose, and almost immediately he

opened his eyes and coughed.

Again he looked around, dazed and confused. Again, after he had

recognized the queen, he told everything he knew.

“Anaxantis,”
Emelasuntha thought, her blood soaring.
“My son is

here. I’m going to hold him in my arms. Finally. Finally. I might never

let go anymore... But, how? We didn’t tell him.”

She smiled at Eymar.

“You’ve done very well. We’ll take care of you.”

She stood up and in a subdued tone she spoke with the medic.

“Will he live?”

“Doubtful, my lady. I don’t even understand what kept him alive

this long.”

“See what you can do for him. Make him comfortable. Give him

something for his pain. I’ll leave two men behind. Don’t stay on the

open road.”

She turned around to mount her horse.

“My lady,” Eymar groaned.

Emelasuntha immediately kneeled down again.

“My lady... hidden path... leads to the main hill... this side of the

road... further down.”

Exhausted, he stopped.

“Thank you, Eymar. This is very valuable information. Now rest,”

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the queen whispered, stroking his cheek with the back of her fingers.

Looking around them, Anaxantis and his men advanced slowly

through the trees. They came at a clearing in the middle of the little

wood, exactly when Damydas and his six Black Shields appeared

from the opposite direction.

For a moment both groups froze. The baron was shaken to his

core.

“This is him. This. How could I ever have taken that pale lad for a

prince? This is what Tanahkos and Mekthona bring forth.”

He slowly looked over the group standing before him and saw

that he was heavily outnumbered. It was not the first time however

that he had found himself in circumstances that seemed hopeless.

He smiled broadly.

“I am Gerrubald, Baron of Damydas, by appointment of his

Glorious Majesty, Tenaxos I, High King of Ximerion, Autarch of the

Northern Marches. Lay down your sword, your highness. I have come

to assist you in your duties. We have much to discuss.”

Anaxantis needed some moments to take in what the baron had

just said. He knew Damydas by reputation. Still, the boldness of the

man perplexed him for a moment.

“When you came here, baron, have you seen that river, a few

miles to the north?” he asked quietly. “That is the river Ranghy. North

of that insignificant little stream you might have been autarch. Here

you are but a captain of the Black Shields. A captain and a traitor. You

lay down your weapons.”

“A mere technicality. You know as well as I do that the law is on

my side. Now, call off your men, boy, and obey. You are just a young

hothead, and you are endangering the safety of the kingdom. I am a

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personal friend of your father and I will make sure—”

Anaxantis made a sign and immediately both Clansmen and

Mukthars jumped upon Damydas’s sole remaining Black Shields.

The baron instinctively sprang into a defensive posture, but he was

not attacked. Lethoras remained beside Anaxantis.

Soon all Black Shields lay dead upon the ground. Still holding his

sword ready to strike, the baron looked left and right.

“You were saying, baron?” Anaxantis asked, arching an eyebrow.

“You can’t get away, Damydas, neither will there come any help. All

your men are dead.”

“I’m still the autarch of the Northern Marches. My authority

supersedes yours. I demand you obey me, you impertinent

cocksucker. Men, I am the autarch and I command you to arrest that

boy,” Damydas bellowed.

“You are a common traitor, and I don’t care if you were Zardok

himself,” Anaxantis roared in his turn. “Disarm him,” he ordered, his