Brave Men Die: Part 2 Read online

  ‘So it could be an all out attack?’ queried Reza.

  ‘We feel that it could be,’ Rodderick answered.

  ‘You too?’ Reza asked of Dejeski.

  He nodded.

  ‘So the Kyzantines are invading. I didn’t think we would ever let things get this bad. Have Buckthorne and Gravid’s Drift reported back in yet?’

  ‘No, they haven’t, but if it is something they can deal with themselves we won’t hear about it until it’s done and finished. But if it is bigger …’ Braithe trailed off.

  ‘It could mean we won’t hear about it until one, if not more, of the passes have fallen and the Kyzantines have a foothold into the Kingdom,’ Rodderick interjected.

  ‘Fucking bastards,’ Reza muttered under his breath. ‘Do we know why? Is there anything that would let us know whether this was an invasion or just a border conflict?’

  ‘I haven’t heard any intelligence yet that goes either way. The Musea Pass reported large enemy numbers and something about Prince Derrick being murdered. I have not had that confirmed as yet. We won’t know whether it is a full blown invasion or just a strike at the closest possible target until either the baron or the earl confirm something,’ answered Braithe.

  ‘So we know nothing. Well, we can’t just stand here hoping that this will go away. I want measurements put in place so we don’t have a battlefield on the doorstep of the capital. Father would never have let that happen and neither will I. What are your plans generals?’

  ‘We will each take three battalions out for training exercises and manoeuvrers in different directions,’ Rodderick informed him. ‘Dejeski will take the First, Fifth and Seventh battalions directly to Carham where he can set up a temporary headquarters to give us a good push straight to Gravid’s Drift if things get tough. Braithe will take the Second, Fourth and Sixth to the east to the Dyrest River and can redirect north to Carham if war has been joined.’

  Rodderick paused and drew breath. ‘I will go north immediately with the Third, Eighth and Twelfth in case the Kyzantines break through at Black Claw or further west through the Gorgon Pass. I can respond quicker being positioned there and can gather greater numbers at Buckthorne if the baron hasn’t already committed them.’

  ‘That sounds feasible. The Murukan Horse can be recalled from the coast leaving the outposts already in position to deal with the raiders and can move across the country to aid any fighting. The Ninth, Tenth, Eleventh, Thirteenth, Fourteenth and Fifteenth can be held in reserve until we know where they need to be deployed. Is there anything else gentlemen?’ the Prince asked.

  ‘Sir …’ Braithe started.

  ‘We want a unit of magi, Reza,’ Dejeski finished. ‘We want one for each of us. They are the Kingdom’s most powerful weapon, they travel faster than any artillery and they won’t look out of place in a simple "training exercise".’

  ‘You want me to ask the Academy or you want me to order them?’

  ‘Whatever is necessary. If we are at war they will be drawn into the conflict eventually. We would prefer it from the start.’

  Knight-General Curdish stood exhausted with his back against the wall. Dark, long curls clung to his forehead as his gauntleted fingers gripped his helmet loosely in his left hand. His sword was covered with the raiders’ blood. He looked around the room over the faces of the men he was in charge of. Cuts and scratches were the worst the men inside had got. Others had not been so lucky.

  Between Prince Daymon and himself, the plan had seemed so simple. Wait in the houses at night for the raiders to come, ambush them when they thought they were just attacking the people, light the signal fire, and the Horse would come charging and kill everyone on the street.

  The fighting had been bloody and brutal. In close quarters every detail of the enemies’ faces could be seen and the look of death in their eyes haunted him momentarily when he closed his eyelids. The ambush had worked, sort of. The lads had kept the raiders from the houses, kept them on the streets long enough for the cavalry charge that thundered down every dirt covered street. With nowhere safe to flee, their long boats ablaze, they had fought to the last man, stood together as the horses came, battered harder to get inside the buildings. They had managed that on the other side of the street, getting past the first Murukan at the door to trample over his body and engage those within.

  The candlelight cast shadows along the walls as Curdish’s eyes swept over the man now covering the closed door. Others stood to either side of the window while the rest remained well back ready to charge.

  The sound of hooves roaring past the door gave light to thoughts that it was finished but the Horse was met by shouts and battle cries and the familiar sound of ringing steel. It wasn’t over yet.

  Minutes felt like hours before the heavy breathing of armoured mounts stopped outside the building and the rapping on the door echoed into his ears a familiar pattern.

  ‘Open the door,’ Curdish ordered the two men stationed in front of it.

  A tall figure emerged into the candlelight, his dark curls falling down the sides of his head as he removed his helmet. Broad shoulders strained to squeeze past the soldiers, a second smaller man following him in. The taller handed his helmet to the other and his eyes locked with Curdish’s.

  ‘I think this will keep them away from the coast for a while Curdish.’

  ‘Good, because we have other places to be Daymon.’

  ‘I’m more than aware of that. We had to do this first, before we can run off to the other side of the country. The raiders needed a deterrent and after tonight we have bloody well given them one.’

  Blood trickled down out of his sleeve from a cut that Curdish suspected sat high across his bicep. His brown eyes were alert as he studied the room. Running his hand through his dark hair, the uncrowned young King shook his head.

  ‘How long before we can be of use?’

  ‘That depends on a lot of things. We are down pretty far south, Firadon’s border is barely two days away. By the time we get organised, prepare food and water to accompany the Horse …’ Curdish sighed.

  Daymon looked at him expectantly.

  ‘The best we could do is maybe a month, if we kill the horses and the men in the process. That’s not feeding and watering them and stopping for only a few hours a night. The Horse are the toughest bunch of bastards I know, they probably would survive the limited rations but they wouldn't be in any condition to fight at the end of it. And that’s realistically what they are going to have to do. Even if the passes hold, which I hope they do, in a couple of months' time those men are going to be exhausted and when we turn up they will want to step down and sleep.’

  ‘It won’t help not knowing exactly where we are headed either. I have recalled the scattered Horse to meet north of our position and we will head inland from there. If we push north–east and skirt around the capital we should avoid having to deal with a coronation that would keep us, or at least me, away from the action where we are needed.’

  ‘Where do you think they will break through?’

  ‘The biggest push will be at Black Claw I imagine. It’s a central location, its closer to the heart of the Kingdom and they have the Cerebus Valley to feed from. Thousands can gather in that and charge down the pass. The Gorgon Pass is out of the way and won’t leave them in the best position to launch an attack. The Musea doesn’t even lead into Murukia anymore but I wouldn’t put it past Tyrea to turn the blind eye while they bloody well wander on in.’

  ‘You won’t go into Sarkridge to speak to your brother? His girls died the same night as your father. He must be hurting.’

  ‘Reza will have to tough it out. He’s the administrator of the family, took after father in that respect, he needs to be organising the troops, how we are going to feed them and try to get some help from Firadon and Raeltom. He’ll join us on the field when he’s done what he needs to do. We can kill Kyzantines to avenge his daughters together.’

  ‘I want runners out to everyone in tow
n,’ Curdish snapped at the men in the room. ‘I want every man of the Horse ready by sun up to move north. Armoured, full flasks, and in the saddle before me.’

  Daymon looked across at him, nodded his head, and left the house.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Dathe followed the page through the halls of Gravid’s Drift. The lad had come crashing through his door, ordering him as politely as possible to follow him to the council chambers quickly. Despite the three months of serving him, Jon was still hesitant about just how far he could go with the visiting dignitary, which made Dathe smile to no end.

  Buckling his sword belt as he wound his way through the corridors of the living quarters in the western wing of the building, Dathe hurried to keep up with the page. He followed the boy down the narrow service stairs three floors to the level the earl used for state purposes.

  Approaching the council chambers from the kitchen prep area, Dathe could already hear the earl screaming orders, his voice carrying through the stone corridors. That concerned him. The earl was generally a softly spoken man, but his commands had presence and not a single man would disobey an order given by him. The fact he was yelling meant that something serious had happened.

  Emerging in front of him, from the central hall running the north–south length of Gravid’s Drift, Lacey was already at a full run, her father’s voice now matched by another’s. Dressed casually, her hair tied back, her blonde ponytail flew out behind.

  ‘Lace,’ Dathe cried out as he started to match her pace.

  Slowing her pace so she could look back over her shoulder, Lacey pulled up so Dathe could catch her. There was a look of desperation and panic in her green eyes, screaming that something was very wrong, and her father’s booming voice was not placating her fears.

  ‘Do you know what’s wrong?’ Dathe asked.

  She shook her head and closed her eyes, composing herself as he gripped her gently by the upper arms.

  He stood motionless for a minute, letting the screaming from the council chambers wash over him, to identify the second man arguing with the earl. But that wasn’t the only thing he was listening for; the background noise around the keep was different. The staff knew something had changed. There was a hum of activity. A sense of urgency.

  Dathe pushed the door open and they entered together, immediately taken back by the sight before them. Cygnus was up in the earl’s face, screaming back at him turn for turn. The same size and shape of his father, and the same stubborn streak, Cygnus was clearly not prepared to back down.

  Dathe looked around the room. All the captains and council members of Gravid’s Drift were present and none of them were making a move to interfere. Whatever this was, everyone was going to let it play out.

  Turning to whisper directly into Lacey’s ear, Dathe mumbled under his breath, ‘This can’t be good.’

  She looked at him, her heart in her throat. It wasn’t just the fact that her father and brother were arguing, it was what the argument implied. Everyone had been on edge since the signal smoke appeared over the mountain outpost in the Musea Pass. It wasn’t just for the safety of the men stationed there, nor was it for the security of the Kingdom, but for Thol who had been posted there for the last year. The seventeen year old would have been on the front line when the Kyzantines attacked.

  Captain Figur had led his company immediately to the pass to reinforce the guards. On horseback it was only a day and a half travel time but Dathe was beginning to suspect they hadn’t made it. Gazing over the faces in the room, he spotted Figur standing in the background and realised he was right. If Figur was back, he hadn’t seen combat at the outpost — it had already fallen.

  ‘Back down Cygnus, that’s an order,’ Arryn screamed three inches from his son’s face.

  ‘No sir, we should already be on the move to the pass. Give the fucking order so we can get on with it.’

  ‘They are already dead Cygnus.’

  ‘You don’t know that. They could have taken prisoners.’

  ‘Who would have surrendered, son? You know Barcus and all the others posted there, you served with them, none of them would have lowered their weapons.’

  ‘Thol …’ Cygnus muttered.

  ‘You know your brother. He would have taken as many down with him as possible.’

  ‘He is a valuable prisoner …’

  He’s dead with all the rest,’ Arryn answered.

  Cygnus retreated a step, stumbling as it sunk in, his father’s words gutting him even harder than the initial report had. He looked around for something to support him, found the closest chair, and sunk into it.

  The earl left his son to his anger and grief and faced the waiting crowd. He met the eyes of every person in the room, noting their demeanour before moving to the next man.

  ‘Captain Figur returned a short time ago. The Kyzantines have destroyed the command stationed at the pass and the only survivors were those that Aspring had sent out as messengers at the onset — six men out of the hundred.

  The enemy are now using the Musea Pass as a staging ground for their invasion into the Kingdom. They are massing huge numbers and will shortly be moving south toward our position. The men of Gravid’s Drift will be marching north to meet them.’

  Arryn turned to look at his son with his last comment to see his reaction. Cygnus looked up from his stupor and grudgingly nodded his head — he was after all getting what he wanted.

  Dathe watched it all unfold. The Dunn family were hurting but the earl was keeping it together the best. He shifted his gaze to Lacey. Tears were streaming down her cheeks but she didn’t utter a sound, kept her head upright and faced her father stoically. Dathe smiled grimly, proud that this young lady was proving her worth, knowing she would never show the pain she was experiencing right now.

  Captain Figur stepped forward from the assembled captains. ‘I’ve ordered my company to hold position north of the city in the direct path of the approaching enemy. They will engage and fall back as necessary.’

  The earl was pacing while Figur talked, running through the tactics they would employ and resources they had at their disposal to use. Dathe could see him mentally taking note of everything that was being said. He was calm, calculating, brooding. The complete opposite to Cygnus. There was anger building inside the son, rage contorted his face.

  ‘We need to strike back,’ Cygnus snarled. Slamming his fist into his open hand, he moved to face his father. ‘We need to take every armed man and retake the pass. Fuck those bastards that killed Thol. The Kyzantines need to pay.’

  ‘They fucking will,’ the earl snapped, before taking a deep breath and controlling his own anger. ‘Calm down, Cygnus.’

  Cygnus bit his tongue, clenched his hands into fists and released them, over and over again. Finally he turned his back on the earl and kept his mouth shut.

  ‘Captain Marsh, please marshal every company at once, we leave for the pass in an hour.’

  The captain nodded and left, every set of eyes in the room on his back as his footsteps echoed on the stone floor.

  ‘Cygnus, you are to take the Howlers to Black Claw. Buckthorne will need the numbers, they would have split their forces between Black Claw and the Gorgon Pass and won’t have enough to hold it if they are coming at them in the same numbers we’ve seen at Musea.’

  ‘Father! I should be leading the army to avenge Thol. Fuck the rest of it, it’s a matter of honour!’ Spittle flew from his mouth.

  The rest of the hall was silent. The remaining captains averted their eyes. The councillors were staring at their feet.

  ‘You will lead the Howlers to Black Claw. You are my son and you will do as you are told. I will be leading the men to the Musea Pass personally.’

  The two men were standing an inch apart again, their cold blue grey eyes held, chests breathing hard. Dathe was worried that the men were close to reaching for their weapons by their sides.

  ‘Cygnus.’ Lacey’s voice cut through the hall. ‘Do as father says.’
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br />   He slowly turned to look at her, contempt in his eyes. Dathe could feel the hate radiating from Cygnus, and standing next to Lacey he felt it was also directed at him. He felt his hand slide toward the hilt of his weapon, unsure whether he should defend Lacey if Cygnus felt like taking it out on her or if the earl would be fast enough to intervene.

  Dathe was aware of Cygnus’ temper; he was an emotional man and let his feelings get the better of him. Bouting against him was like fighting a stone wall: unmoving and hard. But then he attacked recklessly, dangerously, randomly. Cygnus angrily launched himself at his opponents, always pressing, unrelenting and attacking with the force of a sledgehammer.

  ‘Just go Cygnus, you’ll bring shame on us all if you don’t.’ Lacey was staring him down. Her voice was steady as she stepped forward to challenge him further.

  The look on Arryn Dunn’s face was a signal for his daughter not to press it, not to complicate matters further. Dathe held his breath, knowing full well that Lacey couldn’t help herself. The tension in the room was on knife's edge. The hard set of her jaw was an indication that something had changed about her, that she wouldn’t back down on this, that Thol’s death and now Cygnus’ insubordination unsettled her.

  ‘Lead the Howlers or I will,’ Lacey snapped. She was purposely shaming her brother into doing what he needed to do. ‘Dathe, you will accompany me.’

  Dathe felt everyone in the room turn to him, like he was aware of Lacey’s plan from the beginning. He was pinned between looking the fool and not knowing, or holding his ground and standing beside the young, proud woman. He exhaled and stepped forward.

  ‘Lacey, you go too far,’ Arryn said, noting Dathe’s allegiance.

  ‘Father, you want your child to lead the Howlers to Black Claw. I’m your child, and I’m happy to do it. Give me the command and I’ll make you proud.’