To Be Chosen (15 page)

“Bencaldrin, you know what to do,” Serena said to the team member who was often referred to as the Butcher. He was tall, wide at the shoulders, and narrow at the hips.

The man lived up to his reputation, being the son of a butcher in the city of Caldrone, and skilled at carving up any hunk of meat in seconds, including human, using hair thin blades of solidified air. “I and my team of eleven, along with half of the sasquatches, are to assault the walls half a mark after nightfall,” he dutifully repeated the instructions she had been drilling into his head over the last eighty spans.

“Correct, I’ll lead the infiltration team and launch a ball of light after we have the trumpet and are out of the compound to let you know when to withdraw. We will meet here and then teleport back to Serpent North. Does everybody understand this or must I go over it again?” Serena said, knowing she was treating them like ignorant children rather than third and fourth level Talenteds.

They all had to possess some skills in order to survive the tests required to rise from one level to the next, failure often meant death. She had graduated in one year, a record unmatched by any before her and not likely to be beaten any time soon, not even in Aakadon. Although, it was said that Daniel Benhannon did it all within a month. Impossible, he must have been tutored in secret over many years.

“We understand,” Brandon DuCret was the first to reply.

He was not the brightest member of the team, but never questioned an order, and proved useful out in the wilderness. He was also the only one among them who actually enjoyed the journey. The young man was lean, yet in a healthy way, and full of vitality. Everyone else quickly followed his lead and assured her they knew what to do, which was good. She hated having to repeat herself.

“Gerroor,” Serena called to the tallest male sasquatch, a creature nearly eleven cubits tall. “When Brais Bencaldrin here,” she said while pointing to the Butcher, “tells you to do so, take half your pack and attack the humans behind the walls. You will not stop until he or I instruct you to do so, and then you all will come back to this place”

The towering sasquatch grunted in reply and then let out a fierce bellow. One hundred forty-nine of the beasts parted from the rest, moving in mass toward the alpha male. Serena cast a spell, amplifying her voice. “You will follow Gerroor to kill and eat,” she told them, and then received grunts of acknowledgement.

The rest of the sasquatches grew restless, probably wondering when they would be allowed to kill and eat. “Gurrumble, you will take the rest of the pack and protect the hunting grounds. Kill and eat any thing that flees, and then return to this place when Gerroor does,” Serena commanded the second largest male, with her voice still amplified so the o
thers would also hear and obey.

Gurrumble bellowed several times and started off into the trees to the left along with seventy-four of his fellow sasquatches while the rest turned right and waded across the river. They would spread out around the estate and try to catch just about anything t
hat moves, human, or whatever.

Serena hated being within a swamp, even if only the fringe, the bugs were just awful. The Swamps of Append are two hundred forty-one spans wide and one hundred thirteen spans north to south, taking up parts of Southern Ducaun and
Northwestern Taracopa, but the inconvenience was worth the potential payoff. She had to show Vance she could do what needed to be done, and beyond that, was delighted at the prospect of being the first member of the Serpent Guild to hold the trumpet of Tarin Conn in nearly a thousand years.

It took a mark and a half for the Ferret to return. “Project an image of the estate on the ground,” Serena instructed him, which he did. A wall twenty cubits high and five cubits thick encircled the property, inside was a huge ten-storied manor house with a barracks and stables on one side and a large storage barn on the other. Beyond the wall, all the way around, was sedge grass that stretched over hundreds of strides right up the tree line, unbroken except where the river cut through the western side of the estate.

“As you see, there are three gates every third of the way along the perimeter, and four guards at each gate,” Ferret was saying. “I got a closer look at the barracks and estimate it can accommodate up to a thousand men, but I do not believe it is full to capacity. I counted eighty-eight men on patrol and twelve at the gates bringing the number to a hundred. The river bends and goes behind the compound to the west.”

“Good job,” Serena told him while studying the details of the three dimensional image.

“What defensive measures have they in place?” Carolyn Straifer wanted to know.

Her dark hair was straggly and she possessed an over large nose, not an attractive woman, but statuesque a
nd taller than most of the men.

“Half of the men on the wall carried halberds, the rest were bowmen, and a few men with broadswords,” Ferret replied. “I was not there long enough to spot anything more.”

“A few bowmen and a handful of commoners with glorified spearheaded battle axes are nothing to us,” Lorrin Temmon gave his assessment.

His only distinction among his fellows was having a left leg slightly shorter than the right, which made him hobble, but did not seem to slow him down. He was a level four Talented, which meant he had better survival skills then half the team. He also seemed pleased to be involved on the mission, never complained, or
challenged Serena’s authority.

“We could sweep over their defenses like a tidal wave. Why not strike and be done with it?” Brais added to the conversation and made Serena wonder if she had picked the wrong one to lead the assault.

“Besides the hundred men I observed, there were at least several hundred horses in the stable, and scores of men coming and going from the barracks. I’m betting this estate has quite a bit more defenders than meets the eye,” Ferret told him, correctly.

“Even so,” Brais began.

“Duzolta is correct,” Serena interrupted. “My source indicates we are dealing with a garrison of royal guardsmen, which means anywhere from four hundred to a thousand men.” Her source was Vance, who learned it from his contact in Ducanton.

“As you say,” Brais subsided. “It is best to proceed as planned.”

“Of course it is,” Jak spoke up. “Our leader has thought this entire operation all the way through.”

Ursula rolled her eyes upward, not that she necessarily disagreed with Taltin’s statement; it was just the constant flattery the man kept spewing was a little too obvious. Serena did not need her ego stroked by a mere Talented, what she needed was to get the operation underway. “Bencaldrin, get to your position. Duzolta, you do the tunneling,” she commanded and the Butcher and his team started off toward the estate along with the
sasquatches under his command.

Serena continued on just under five spans, a bit close to the estate, but well back in the trees. It was the only dry piece of ground she had come upon since dividing her team. At sunset, Ferret dismounted, sapphire baton in hand, and began to glow red-orange, his potential formed a disk of light beneath his feet, came up, engulfing him as if he was under a dome, and he began to sink into the ground. Serena was perfectly capable of casting the necessary spell, but chose to let Duzolta do so. She wanted to be free to cast defensive or offensive spells, whichever was needed. Geb SuTamkin was the only other member of the infiltration team who knew the Melody but she wanted him to take up the rear while she followed Ferret. He went down a good ten paces and then headed in the direction of the estate, creating the tunnel as he moved. Serena dropped down in and was followed by Taltin, Duggan, Temmon, DuCret, Straifer, and Luscious Ronan who had a neatly trimmed black beard and ears that were just a bit too small. Geb dropped in at the last; it was his job to shield the team should an attack come from the rear. They had to leave the horses behind, but they were well trained and would not move from the spot where their reins had been dropped.

The spell, Tunnel, was a marvel to behold. As Ferret walked, the ground opened up, allowing him to pass as if strolling through air. The dirt and rock did not disintegrate, rather it was used to create and harden the walls and floor, keeping the tunnel from leaking or collapsing. The passage was perfectly smooth and light was provided by Duzolta’s red-orange potential.

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Clean-shaven, Sergeant-of-the-guard, Frederick Zaccum, with just a trace of gray in his hair, had been a member of the Royal Guardsmen for over twenty years. The Ducaunan military had three branches, army, cavalry, and the Royal Guardsmen, who were the elite. He took pride in his service to Duke Cantor Ducalin, even though most of his peers would rather be guarding the Queen. He had no idea why the royal family kept six hundred guardsmen on the fringe of a swamp, guarding an estate seldom visited by anyone outside of the royal family. The only faces that changed here were those of the guards when one man or another transfers elsewhere or retires. Still, he was proud of the green and the gold, his uniform, and the broadsword on his back. Of all the men stationed at the Ducalin estate, he had served here the longest and was intimately familiar with the sights and sounds of the swamp. The crickets to the northwest had gone silent, along with the frogs, and he could not remember when such a thing happened before. Oh, isolated modulations of their nightly chorus occurred when someone or something dangerous to them came near, but nothing out there was big enough to cause all of them to stop at once.

From his position on the wall, fifteen cubits of solid stone and five cubits wide, he could see through his opticals hundreds of strides out beyond the thigh high sedge grass as if the tree line was right in front of him, even so it was difficult to distinguish anything out there, moonlight being the only source of illumination. The wall had four paces of walk space and an additional five cubits in height at the front for him to stand behind while looking out. “Birdmen,” he called down to the lead guard at the north gate. He was from the Geble region of Ducaun where animal names were popular.

“I’m awake, Serge,” he called back. The man had been caught nodding off several times in the past and now felt the need to assure everyone he was still awake.

“I know or I would have spit on your head to get your attention. Now listen, something is happening to the northwest,”
Frederick replied.

The roar of a sasquatch rang out from the swamp and was followed shortly by two more that were only slightly less in volume. “Close the gates!”
Frederick shouted and then picked up the clapper to bang the gong, of which there were three, one on the wall above each gate. His strike triggered a similar response from guardsmen manning the other two.

The gates were made of heavy gage Zunean steel and all of them, outer and inner, slammed down. By the time Frederick had counted to ninety, hundreds of men with halberds in hand joined the forty-eight already on the walls, more were in the torch-lit courtyard and several hundred bowmen were taking their positions as well, giving full coverage from all directions. Over a hundred men entered the manor to protect the royal family.

Jonah Ducalin, dressed in a light green wool suit, joined him on the wall, sword in hand. “I heard the roars,” he said. “That means at least two sasquatches, maybe three.”

The duke’s youngest son was tall, thin, and one of the fastest runners Frederick had ever seen. His dark hair was cut close to his scalp and his
eyes were sharp as an eagle’s.

“Truly, my lord, but the reaction of the swamp,”
Frederick began to explain to the young man.

Jonah raised his hand, calling for silence, after listening for a few moments, he added, “The crickets and frogs are still silent. If there were only a few beasts, the insects and amphibians would have started up again after the sasquatches passed, that means the danger is still near them and over a large area.”

He and Frederick had been testing each others ability to read the swamp for many years, to recognize what different sounds, smells, and a hundred other little things meant. “Must be a whole lot of danger for crickets and frogs to be quiet so long,” Frederick agreed.

“Should we go into full defensive status or do you think what we have now
is adequate?” Jonah asked him.

Even though Jason Remmick was the Captain-of-the-guard, he was new and had only eight years in the service. Jonah was in diapers when
Frederick was assigned to the estate, so everyone, including the Captain, sought the opinion of the Sergeant-of-the-guard. “It could be no more than a handful, but as you know, strange things have been happening, Aakacarns have been launching spells at one another in the north, and the Serpent Guild has been sending thousands of yetis against mountain villages. I think it wise to go on full alert. If nothing else, doing so would be a good exercise for the men. They have been getting complacent of late,” Frederick told him.

Jonah nodded his head in agreement. He raised his fist and Remmick, who was organizing the men in the yard, raised his fist in acknowledgment, then turned, issued orders, and one hundred twenty men broke off to get the pitch, balls, and launchers. The balls are about the size of a grapefruit, saturated with pitch, and launched by a spring loaded tube. Fires are lit in front of the tubes and the balls ignite as they pass through. The launcher is fairly accurate and can throw a ball well over a hundred strides. The estate had thirty-five launchers that can be posit
ioned anywhere along the wall.