Session Ninety-Two - June 30, 2012

Wherein the ongoing story of the FtF campaign may be found ...

Session Ninety-Two - June 30, 2012

Postby Matt » Mon Apr 15, 2013 11:55 pm

Nolus 3, Early Evening
Ewen’s Tent, Heru, Kaldor


Around six o’clock in the evening, Baris and Tora returned to Heru. It had been a long ride, and they beat the trail dust from their clothes.

“The entire caravan, wiped out,” Tora said. “Every silver penny taken – it’s hard to believe.”

“Worry not, we will show those Vikings a thing or two soon enough,” Baris said, a little heatedly. It bothered the knight that Neph had so completely shirked his duties to his people. “Do you think the White Ravens are ready?”

“They will be,” Tora said. “I will see to it personally.”

Baris nodded, and opened the flap to Ewen’s tent.

Ewen shook his head gravely after he took their report. Kaelyn stood by him, taking notes.

“This could be the beginning of the collapse of Kaldor,” Tora worried, shaking her head.

“The nobles will be fine for this year,” Ewen said. “They have already sold their grain – but many of them are invested in the merchants who were expecting to sell that grain to the dwarves, and next year, when the merchants go under, there will be hell to pay.” Ewen stroked his beard, deep in thought for a moment. “This makes the fight ahead more difficult for Kaldor, because before their goal would have been to send the Vikings back up the fur road. Now their task should be to retrieve the goods stolen from the caravan. That will be much more difficult, as it requires destroying or cutting off the opposing force.”

“It is strange how very organized these Vikings are,” Kaelyn mused. “And Neph does not seem to be doing his job very well.”

“He does what he perceives his job to be very well, but he does not do his duty,” Baris said with a hard edge to his voice. “Shall we report our findings to Sir Prehil?”

“Yes, Ewen said. “You should deliver the report, because you have a more straightforward reputation than myself.” Ewen smiled. “Just make sure they know why they should go off as soon as possible – after all, every second we waste is another second the Vikings could be sending booty back home.”

Baris laughed. “We wouldn't want to lose any more booty than we already have!”

***

Baris and Tora made their way to Prehil's tent to deliver their report. Servants and porters were scurrying about, carrying buckets or tools, hard at work setting up a great pavilion. While the two had been scouting, the middle of the army had arrived. The King himself was amongst them. He was already staying at the local lord’s castle, no doubt.

“Baris, come in, come in!” Prehil yelled after his man-at-arms informed him he had guests.

Inside the tent, Prehil sat at a small table, bread and cheese arrayed before him. Marina, pouring from a pitcher of ale, looked up and smiled shyly at Baris.

“Baris, you're back!” Prehil said, raising his mug. “I take it you didn't get sucked in to Neph's entertainments at his castle!”

“No, I did not, although I hope he is not partying at this moment. The caravan was …”

Prehil raised a finger for silence. “Marina, go find something else to do.” The woman curtsied and scurried off. Prehil nodded for Baris to continue.

“The caravan did arrive, but was completely taken by the Vikings,” Baris reported matter-of-factly.

“What? They are supposed to be in Olokand! Wait – what caravan are we talking about?”

“The Silver Caravan,” Baris said.

Prehil stood up and banged his fists on the table. “By Naveh's ballless hairball maker!”

“Neph remained in his castle and did nothing, in fact he is still there, while his people suffer,” Baris said unprompted.

Prehil smiled. “He always was a corpulent poltroon.”

“He didn't even give chase!” Baris shook his head in disgust. “He remains holed up in his castle, too craven to come out, no doubt.”

“So the Vikings walked in, stole the gold, and walked back?”

“Yes.”

“Where do you think they are?” Prehil asked.

“I imagine many are taking the gold home right now.”

“There’s not a moment to lose!” Prehil exclaimed.

Baris grinned. Ewen would be pleased by how well this was going. “No doubt!”

After Prehil girded himself, he propelled Baris and Tora out of the tent, and the trio made their way toward the castle. “That's where he'll be,” Prehil said.

***

“My liege, I fear I bring bad tidings,” Prehil began. He stood before the King’s table in the great hall of Heru Castle, flanked by two other tables arranged in a horseshoe formation. Also present were the Baron of Kobe, Sir Houla Artona, and various members of the royal guard, including Sir Hedare, Sir Ranal Gybsen, the Baron of Kolorn, and Sir Stareton Valador. The gathered nobles The had just sat down to supper; their stew was still steaming.

King Haldan rolled his eyes. “Sir Prehil, We have had more than enough bad tidings to last us the season. Nevertheless, speak.”

“I fear your grace, there's no way to sugarcoat this,” Prehil began. “Sir Baris brings news from Gardiren.” He stepped back.

Baris blanched, and coughed to hide his surprise. “Your grace, I rode to Gardiren to scout, and learned that the Silver Caravan arrived, but was completely destroyed by the Vikings.” He took a breath. “The Earl of Neph was pinned in his castle, helpless as a lamb.”

“Sir Baris, do you mean to tell me that the Vikings have seized the shipment of silver and other goods from Azadmere?”

Baris nodded confirmation. “I mean exactly that, your Grace.”

“With your Grace’s permission,” Sir Houla began. At the King’s nod, he continued. “What have you heard of the Knights of the Order of the Lady of Paladins who were protecting the train?”

“I saw no sign of them,” Baris answered.

“You heard this news from Neph himself?” the King asked.

“No, your grace, from several eyewitness villagers,” Baris clarified. “The Earl was still cowering in his castle,” he said, quietly, but loud enough for all to hear.

“You did not think to knock?”

“There was no time.” Baris replied. He had thought to knock, but feared Neph would not welcome him- or worse, might not let him leave. “I wanted to bring this news to your grace as soon as possible.”

“I wish there was better evidence than the word of a few villagers,” the King said.

“There were signs of battle damage; several doors were kicked in, broken fences and the like.”

Sir Stareton spoke up. “My liege, we cannot let the Vikings get away with the Silver Caravan!”

The King nodded, having already come to that conclusion. “Orsin, how quickly can we be on the march?”

“Most of the troops with you are tired, but the rest are fresh,” Lord Firith said. “We could leave tomorrow. I'm not sure where the rear of the army is, though; they could be a couple days back.”

“No, we cannot wait,” the King said, sending Baris’s spirits soaring. Things were all going according to plan! “Send word to the rear to not wait, to make straight for Olokand.” He rose from his seat. “On the morrow, we march for Olokand, and we will take back what is ours, every last stone, every last penny!”

Baris stood at attention. “We will strike great vengeance upon these Vikings, your grace!”

“Well said, Sir Baris,” the King said. “I trust you will convey to Sir Ewen to get his troops ready to march tomorrow?

“I will, your grace.”

“I believe he has volunteered to be the lead force. Make it so. He will array his men before the Bridgegate, and the men of Osel shall follow.”

“We are eager to strike the first blow for you, your grace.”

***

“It went swimmingly, Sir Ewen.” Baris had returned to Ewen’s tent and given him an update.

“Well done, Sir Baris, well done,” Ewen said.

Baris nodded in agreement.

***

The White Ravens were arrayed before Tora, standing at attention. She walked up and down the line, inspecting each man in turn. They were as ready as they would ever be – it would have to be enough.

“On the orders of his grace the King, on the morrow we march under the banner of Sir Ewen Ravinargh. We will be leading the army on the march: be ready to leave before dawn.”

There was no grumbling at that, which pleased Tora. Though they were a rough bunch, certainly lacking skill and ability, at least they knew and accepted the toils of the road. “I will try to get us a place of honor!”

A man in front, one Sparky, ventured, “Where is the place of honor?”

“At the front, of course!”

“Thank you!” Sparky squeaked.

Tora raised her arm. “Let us prove ourselves!”

“Up Sir Baris!” the men cheered.

“Up his what?” a man in back wondered quietly.

***

Sir Ewen sat on the ground in his portion of his large tent, legs folded beneath him. The mirror Rahel had given him to communicate with her lay before him, face up atop its soft bag. Rahel had to know of the news regarding the caravan as soon as possible. Soon she would be in her room in Tashal, focusing upon her duplicate mirror, waiting for his communiqué.

Ewen took a deep breath, and relaxed his mind, opening it to the magic of the Deryni. The familiar stillness came upon him, and he stretched out his mind … but what was that? He sensed power in the ether, and, startled, quickly pulled his mind back to himself. Too quickly, as it turned out. The knight put his hand to his forehead and grimaced in pain.

Ewen relaxed for a time, trying to bring his mind into focus before the appointed hour for communication came. His head ached, and it was difficult to concentrate. In the distance, the watch called ten o’clock. It was now or never. The knight took the mirror in his hands, staring deep into it and turning his thoughts toward his sister. There was a brief glimmer, and the image of a smiling, if tired, Rahel began to appear, but quickly faded. Ewen groaned in agony, his very brain ached with the strain. He collapsed into blessed unconsciousness.

Nolus 4, 732
Bridgegate, Heru, Kaldor


At three am, Sir Baris rose to don his plate mail, with Tora's assistance. The entire laborious process took close to an hour. Squire Uldis assisted Ewen get into his finest armor. The huntsman assisted Sir Catham in donning his armor, and Sir Sedris and Lady Afaewynn, each without squires, assisted each other.

It was a perfectly clear, beautiful day. There was not a cloud in the sky, and the sun shone down warmly upon the gathered forces of Kaldor. At the head of the army, Sirs Ewen and Baris sat astride their riding horses, the sun glinting blindingly off their shining armor. Ewen was girded in the equipage he had found on the knight resting in the Khuzan mine, and he carried that worthy’s sword.

Beside them were Tora, Lady Afaewynn, Sir Sedris, and Sir Catham. Uldis, Ewen’s squire, flew Sir Ewen’s personal standard. Tora carried Baris’s single swallow tail banner, signifying his status a knight-bachelor. Behind the knights, the magnificent chargers were led by squires. The mighty horses whinnied and pawed at the ground, as if they could sense what was afoot, and were eager to do battle.

Behind the knights and their squires, the mercenary companies each flew their own standards, and below them, the standards of Sirs Ewen or Baris, depending on who had hired them. A blue boar, a white raven, and a tree for Rathbar’s Raiders fluttered in the wind.

Baris looked at Ewen’s banner, then at his own swallow tail banner, and considered its meaning. Baris was still a knight-bachelor, although he did have some business interests in Tashal. He smiled, thinking of the Elf & Dwarf. He wondered what Imarë was doing right now. Did she wonder about them?

Baris had joined Sir Ewen those many months ago in a tavern in Golotha in the hopes of gaining land. It was due to the fact that he had grown ill in that cesspool of a city that he ended up with Ewen in the first place, having been too sick to join the war against the Vikings of Orbaal. It had been a strange road, and he and Ewen had had many adventures. When Baris first met the man, Ewen was a mere harper, not yet a knight. Now he held five manors in a kingdom they were both working to undermine. That his blood was royal, Sir Baris had yet to fully compass. Today Baris rode with Sir Ewen to face a different group of Vikings, at the head of an army they did not want to win.

“Sir Ewen, if I might be so bold, some of your light horse should be sent ahead as scouts?” Tora suggested, jarring Baris out of his musings.

“A capital idea,” Ewen agreed, and made it so.

As the light horsemen rode off, the Baron of Kobe rode up to Ewen and his fellows. “The troops look smart!” he said. “It is my goal, Sir Ewen, to have this army reach the manor of Airth by the end of today, where we shall bivouac. I am pleased to note that you have left your tent and other impedimenta behind.”

Around mid-day the scouts returned, having seen no sign of the enemy. By the end of the day, the entire army had reached Airth. Sir Ewen's forces arrived around noon, and the rest of the army arrived throughout the rest of the day.

Airth was a small village, consisting of only about sixteen households. The manor-house was small, but one Lady Ralgurty greeted the knights with a smile nonetheless. Her little children gripped her skirts, looking up at the scary knights with wide eyes.

“Where is your husband?” Sir Ewen asked.

“Children, go play,” Lady Ralgurty said. The kids laughed and ran off, back toward the manor. “My Lord husband is, as far as I know, in Olokand,” she said. “It so happened that he was rendering his feudal service when the Vikings arrived,” she said gravely.

“Have no fear, Lady, we will drive off the Vikings and rescue your husband,” Baris said.

Lady Ralgurty smiled bravely and nodded her thanks. “Please, my lords, you may have the hospitality of my Lord husband’s common, as I understand the King rides behind you, and will no doubt claim the manor, as is his right.”

“You have our thanks, my lady,” Ewen said.

“You must be thirsty, and in need of food. I will have some servants bring you bread and water. If you will excuse me, I have much to do to prepare for the arrival of the King.”

The rest of the day was filled with many small tasks, and nobles and servants alike hurried about with important duties. As troops arrived throughout the day, Kobe focused on organizing the vanguard. When the center arrived, the King took over this duty, although Sir Hedare Thaelbis, head of the royal guard, did most of the work. The village blacksmith was kept very busy, re-shoeing horses that needed it, and performing other minor repairs. Stableboys and other servants helped bring water and feed to the horses. They were enamored with the warhorses, and there were many gasps of admiration for those majestic beasts.

The party huddled together, eating a standing lunch. “I wonder what happened to Kobe’s scouts?” Kaelyn wondered.

“We have not heard anything,” Ewen said gravely.

“Should we send our own scouts to Olokand?” Baris asked.

“No,” Ewen replied. “I don't want us to have too much knowledge.”

“I don't know that having more information is going to hurt us,” Baris pressed.

“We don't want to take away the Viking's advantage of surprise,” Ewen explained quietly. “On the other hand, we may want to scout ahead, as a way to let the Vikings know an army is coming.”

“Yes, and the scouts would report to us, so we could choose what to pass on to the rest of the army.”

Ewen thought for a moment, and then came to a decision. “We will of course send scouts ahead, but not too far. Kobe sent scouts to Olokand, we need not send our own,” he stated in a voice that said the matter was closed.

Baris shrugged, and nodded. “Very well, Sir Ewen.”

***

While Ewen and Baris were busy discussing whether to send scouts ahead and other logistical matters, Kaelyn and Cekiya slipped away. They skipped through the grass to the river, two giggling girls. Well, Kaelyn skipped and giggled. Cekiya crept and looked morose.

Kaelyn was bored, and in need of a little magic in her day. She thought it might be useful to summon an Elmithri, a water elemental. After all, the creature might have intelligence about the road ahead. That was her excuse, anyway.

The mage took off her shoes, to connect better with the principle. She stood on the shore and raised her arms over the water. Her eyes closed, she steadied her mind, pushing aside all distraction. She focused on the murmur of the river flowing past, and the damp sand between her toes. There, there it was, the merest glimmer of intelligence. She opened her eyes and swept her arms through a complicated series of motions, shaping the principle of the water, calling out to the soul she had sensed. She spoke a few soft words, formed her right hand into a cup, and drew it to herself.

After a few moments, a whirlpool appeared on the surface of the water. Cekiya gasped. As the water swirled around and around, some of it rose up into the air above the whirlpool, taking on a vaguely humanoid shape. The creature was not solid, instead consisting of constantly swirling water held into a recognizable shape by unseen forces. The face was blank, until suddenly two eyes burst into being with a pop. The eyes blinked. Below and between these eyes, an upside-down nose formed out of the water. The head went back, as if the creature were laughing, and the nose flipped to the right orientation.

The eyes focused upon Kaelyn, and a mouth appeared. “Heavens, a Shek P'var!” a cheery voice gurgled.

“Greetings!” Kaelyn said.

“Oh, it's been centuries!” the elmithri said in its watery voice.

“I'm flattered you chose to appear, then.”

“Why?” the creature asked, confused. It shook its head, spraying several droplets upon the water.

“I broke a centuries-long streak,” Kaelyn clarified.

“Oh, I can streak!” the little creature said excitedly. A moment later the sprite zoomed across the river, and back, sending up a shower of droplets that fell on the two women. “What's that?” the creature asked, pointing at Cekiya.

“Not a Shek P’var,” Kaelyn explained.

“So I can tell; she's blank!”

Cekiya certainly was soulless, Kaelyn thought. “May I ask you a question?”

“You just did!”

Kaelyn bit back a sigh of exasperation. “That's very true.”

The sprite twirled its hand in the water, and some of the water consisting of the thing’s body began flowing downstream. “Oh, I'm losing myself!” the creature exclaimed, half panicked, half gleeful. It held the hand in front of its face, and more water flowed to create fingers.

“Have you seen a large group of men, from where the river starts?” Kaelyn asked.

“Men? Yes. Well, no. They weren't all men.”

Kaelyn gritted her teeth. “That's good to know.”

“If by men, you mean, not like you, or the blank one.”

“I did.”

“Some of them were like you, not the blank one.” The creature tried to put its hand on its chin in thought, but the water just mixed together, obliterating the hand. It looked like a tube was coming out of its chin. “No, they were all like you, the ones who weren't men. None of them were like the blank one.”

“Like me, Shek P’var, or girl?” Kaelyn asked.

“Girl!” the elemental quickly answered.

“How long would it take you to go north?”

“Oh, longer than a century!”

Oh dear, Kaelyn thought. “Have we been talking longer than a century?”

“We've been talking for a millennium!”

“Well, I think I've learned what I wanted. Goodbye!”

The water elemental giggled and smiled, then with a splash merged back with the water.

***

Late in the day, Sir Anzarn Verdreth arrived with the last units of the center of the army.

A large table was set up on the common for those knights insufficiently high in rank to eat inside the manor's hall. Given the tiny size of the manor this was almost everybody. Even Sir Prehil was sitting outside. A basic meal consisting of bread, cheese and soup was served. There was some conviviality and ale, and those who brought their own provisions passed them around. A bottle of wine was produced, but it only made it as far down the table as Prehil.
The talk consisted of the coming battle, bravado, how many Vikings each man intended to kill.

As sunlight faded and evening came, most of the knights made their way to their bedrolls, wisely choosing to rest before the long march the next day.

Sir Ewen, eager to report in to Rahel, tried to find a private spot, quite a difficult task in the middle of an army encampment. Eventually he made his way down to the river, and Cekiya stood watch nearby. The knight took Rahel's mirror out from its leather case and sat down on the soft grass by the riverbank.

It was almost ten o’clock. The moon was out and was shining upon the water. Ewen closed his eyes and meditated over the mirror. When he opened his eyes, Rahel’s face greeted him.

“Brother, darling,” Rahel cooed. “What happened to you last night?”

Ewen sighed inwardly. “My fatigue was perhaps greater than I thought.”

“I saw you for but a moment. You looked into the mirror, grimaced, then shook it and put it back into the bag!”

“I was perhaps not up to the task, dear sister.”

“Where are you?”

“The manor of Airth.”

“Airth, really?” Rahel chuckled. “I didn't know there was an Airth manor in Kaldor, I'll have to claim it!”

Ewen smiled a wolfish grin. “It appears quite nice. The manor-house is a bit small, though. You may be interested to know that our friends the Harbaalese have managed to make off with the entirety of the Silver Way caravan. Baris spoke to some peasants up there.”

Rahel’s eyes widened. “That's not very good news.” She frowned. “Poor Pesera is going to wet himself, if he doesn't kill himself first.”

“I thought you might enjoy getting the word spread.”

“No, but I can think of a few people who I can bind closer to me. Most excellent news, I thank you, brother.”

“The King is in rather a hurry, having heard the worrying intelligence.”

“I'm sure he is. I'm sure the glint of all that treasure has sparked a bit of gold fever. It would be remarkable if he succeeds in recovering it, and all of it is found. Yes, just enough to keep the merchants solvent would be found, and the rest of it would disappear!”

“I have no interest in lining the king's coffers,” Ewen said coldly.

Rahel chuckled. “Yes, it would be better if we could get it.”

“I'll see what I can do,” Ewen said. “Is there any news from your end, dear sister?”

“There have been some rumors, which I know you had heard before you left town, that the silver caravan had turned back. I don't know if those rumors will change. I doubt much will change without word from Gardiren itself …”

“Sir Baris understands that my lord the Earl of Neph is holed up in his castle, afraid to show his corpulent face.” Ewen laughed. “He may be aware that sending a runner down to Tashal with such news would be disastrous.”

Rahel took this news in turn. “I should also tell you, before I sign off, that Sir Arren Lydel left with the rear of the royal army. I believe he brought a token force with him.”

“I wonder what mischief he's up to,” Ewen wondered.

“I'm sure you can handle him,” Rahel assured him.

“One day we'll find out.”

“Oh, I have no doubt that he respects the unwritten code.”

“Well, I will try to be more regular in my communications, dear sister. Take care of our little son.”

Rahel smiled a motherly smile. It was an expression her face was not quite used to, her smile lines being more angular and predatory. “He's doing fine. I expect him to be with us any moment now.” With that, the woman’s image faded from the magic mirror, the connection broken.

An exhausted Ewen slowly made his way back to his bedroll. Cekiya, always alert, especially in these uncertain and dangerous surroundings, kept her silent vigil over his person. Ewen collapsed on his bedroll and fell instantly to sleep.

A short time later Cekiya slept lightly not far away, hand on her dagger, even in sleep.

Nolus 5, 732
Airth, Kaldor


Once again the knights rose before the sun to don their armor. By the time the first rays peeked over the horizon, the army had formed upon the road. The weather was almost as gorgeous as the day before, although some clouds approached in the distance as if to remind the marching warriors that they were on Harn.

Ewen gave the order to march, and the horses, men, and carts slowly began moving forward.

Ewen and his forces ate a light breakfast in the saddle. Prehil rode up, carrying a stirrup-cup full of what was no doubt an alcoholic beverage. “Have to start the morning right!” the alderman explained with a laugh.

“Sir Prehil, did your father's scouts return?” Baris asked.

“No, no they have not,” Prehil replied.

“Are they past due?”

“Well, they will be by the end of today; they should have been back yesterday,” Prehil explained. “But they are on foot, and it's possible they got a little lost.” Prehil turned to Ewen. “Sir Ewen, my father says to tell you that he hopes to reach Ovendel Manor by the end of the day. He says it's possible, if the roads hold, that we may push on to the next manor, Miradel. It's a bit of a press to get there, and we made good time yesterday. Ovendel is the minimum, Miradel would be the ideal. If you reach Ovendel mid-day, keep going. If after mid-day, stop.”

“Will do,” Ewen acknowledged.

“Please let us know if you hear back from your scouts,” Baris said.

“Baris, I expect you'll see them first.”

“Then we will keep you up to date,” Baris said with a laugh.

Prehil nodded and cantered back to his place in the line of march.

The marching order that day was thus: Sir Ewen led his forces in the vanguard. Behind him the Baron of Kobe led his forces, followed by the men of Sir Kobar Maradyne, the army of the Baron of Kolorn, Sir Stareton Valador and his men, the Order of the Lady of Paladins under the command of Sir Houla Artona, and behind him was Sir Ranal Gybsen. These forces were followed by the king, and then the men led by Sir Roloth Delwarne. Bringing up the rear was Sir Anzarn Verdreth and his men. The line of soldiers, horses, wagons, and camp followers stretched for miles.

“You there, attend me,” Ewen said, and a light horseman trotted up. “Take four men and scout ahead, if you find nothing, wait at Ovendel for further orders.”

As the army marched on, the landscape gradually became hillier. By nine o’clock in the morning the vanguard had reached Ovendel, located on an alluvial plain. The scouts had nothing of interest to report; they had seen no sign of Vikings. Ewen ordered them to scout ahead and await the army at Miradel.

Around ten thirty the army came to a fork in the river, where two smaller rivers from the north drained into the River Kald. To the northwest, beyond the ford, the road continued up a hill flanked by the two smaller rivers.

Ewen led his men across the ford and began marching up the hill, the road surrounded by thick forest on either side. When half the assembled forces had crossed, the first arrows fell. Baris looked up and swore, a hail of arrows fell from both the West and East.

Fortunately, none of the party were hit in the initial volley. Their men, however, were not so fortunate. A quarter of the White Ravens were down before the second volley even arrived. “Shields!” Baris yelled, straining to be heard over the cries of pain and the whinnies of panicked horses. The scent of blood was in the air.

“Behind as well!” Tora yelled, pointing. From the commotion he could see amongst the line of troops, Baris realized that the battle was not limited to the forward part of the army.

Baris grasped his reins and looked about. The underbrush was too thick, there was no hope of a charge on horseback. “Dismount and advance left in formation!” Ewen ordered, as if reading Baris’s mind. The order was carried up the line, and men leapt from their horses as more arrows fell around them. Squire Uldis, the remaining five light horseman, and the huntsman took charge of the mounts and hastily led them off the road.

Ewen's forces changed their facing and wheeled left, toward the East, shields held forward. “Baris, take the rear!” Ewen yelled.

Baris nodded and ran off. “Tora, keep the Ravens together!” the knight ordered as he ran by.

The knight jogged to the back of the line and took command of Rathbar's Raiders to guard the rear flank of Ewen’s forces. Fortunately, the Raiders had suffered only light casualties. “With me, men!” Baris yelled, raising his axe and pointing toward the tree-line to the East. The men cheered, and followed the knight into the forest, shields held high before them. With a thunk an arrow sunk into Baris’s shield.

From under his shield, Baris looked down the road to see how the rest of the army fared. From his vantage point he could see all the way to the ford.

The Baron of Kobe's men had wheeled to their left and were advancing into the woods. Prehil saw Baris. “What's your situation?” he yelled.

“Advancing left to kick ass!”

Prehil’s teeth flashed in a wicked grin. “Good luck!”

Sir Kodar's troops were in relatively good order. They had dismounted and were attempting to advance into the woods. Beyond him were the troops of the Baron of Kolorn, a relatively small force as not all of his men had arrived when the order to march had been given. He only had five knights, including himself, and a company of light foot. These men were not faring as well as those of Sir Kodar. They were being engaged by what appeared to be Viking huscarls who were even then charging down the hill from the north. The huscarls were making short work of the light foot with their battle axes. The bodies of several footmen already lay on the ground, spilling their life’s blood.

The Valador forces, under Sir Stareton were crossing the ford. Some of the longbowmen were attempting, even as they waded through the water, to fire into the huscarls attacking Kolorn.

***

A short time later, Ewen’s forces had reached the relative safety of the woods. His men were lined up in good skirmish formation, he noted with approval. To his right were the diminished ranks of the White Ravens, to the left the Blue Boars. At his back Sir Baris had brought up Rathbar’s Raiders and was making sure no forces came at them from behind.

Ewen’s unit consisted of three knights, five medium and light footmen, and five longbowmen. He had arrayed his men so that the knights were in the center, the light footmen to the left, the medium foot to the right, with the longbowmen in the rear. Cekiya, ever the bodyguard, stuck close to him. Kaelyn hung back and to the right of the bowmen.

A runner came up and looked about. “Sir Ewen, Sir Ewen!”

“Here!” Ewen called.

The light footman ran to the knight, dodging arrows as he came. “I come from Lord Firith, he tells you to press the Vikings hard! Continue on your path, he will extend his troops, and hopefully we'll have each other’s back! One more thing! The Baron of Kolorn and the King are down! Do you have a message for my Lord Firith?”

“Tell him we shall have our vengeance this day, and we will rejoin each other soon! Tell him we shall press the Vikings hard!”

“Thank you, Sir!” The runner rushed off.

A formation of archers was off to the west, slightly downhill. He pointed his sword at the archers. “Let us have our revenge on the souls of those archers, men, with me!” Ewen raised his shield and marched forward.

Suddenly from the right a large group of huscarls charged out of the trees toward the White Ravens, attempting to flank his forces. The Vikings, more concerned with personal honor than tactics, did not fight in formation, but instead each man charged forward alone. They made up for their lack of discipline in ferocity. Their axes high, the heavily bearded and mailed Vikings fell upon the Ravens with a vengeance, screaming their war cries and hacking left and right. The Ravens held as best they could, grouping together, each man shielding the man beside him, but the ferocity of the Vikings’ charge was driving them back step by step.

“Hold your position!” Ewen ordered the Blue Boars. “Advance right!” he ordered his own men, and turned to engage the charging huscarls.

***

Tora, in command of the White Ravens, met the brunt of the flanking attack first. A heavily muscled Viking with a braided beard wielding a notched axe was charging out of the woods. She raised Imarë's bow and sighted an arrow on the big huscarl. A heartbeat later, he went down, blood spurting around an arrow in his neck. “They all die that way!” she shouted and nocked another arrow.

Captain Garvo and Sparky were rising to the occasion. They stood beside Tora, shields before them and engaged two more huscarls. Garvo parried the ferocious swing of a mace with his sword and bashed his shield into the face of a middle aged man, knocking out the last of his teeth and sending him staggering back. Sparky locked sword with a young redheaded Viking, a boy no doubt on his first campaign, his young face covered with more peachfuzz stubble than beard.

***

For Sir Baris, it was quiet for the moment. “Pretty hot there for a minute, Sir Baris,” Rathbar said. “Never been ambushed by Vikings before.”

“It is a new experience for me as well,” Baris said excitedly. While he had a moment to breathe, he ordered the men into good formation.

***

Hiding behind one of Ewen’s archers, Kaelyn watched as the Vikings were locked in mortal combat with the White Ravens. Ewen was rushing to assist.

Kaelyn looked upon one of the huscarls, a pudgy man with rosy cheeks above a braided beard, wearing scale and armed with an axe that dripped blood. She pointed her finger at the man, spoke a few quick words, and suddenly an orb of water appeared in the air and clung to his body. His eyes widened in panic, he dropped his axe and put his hands to his throat as if gasping. His mouth opened wide as he tried to suck in air, but found only water. The poor soul began drowned where he stood.

Cekiya rushed by Kaelyn, headed toward the rear. “I’m bringing Baris to play!”

***

Tora was holding the line. She had arrayed her forces in a line with a slight arc curving toward the Vikings. Though her line was thin, she was aided by the Vikings’ fighting style. A disciplined unit of footmen in phalanx formation would have broken through. A group of individuals fighting for individual honor could be held at bay- barely.

Suddenly two huscarls appeared amongst the trees and charged Tora. Both were redheaded and both wielded huge battle-axes. From their faces, they might have been brothers. She hastily fired an arrow, but her shot went wide. She tossed her bow to the ground and jumped back as two axes swung at her. The woman clumsily dodged left and right, barely avoiding the blades. As the men readied for another attack, she drew her short sword.

***

Baris stood with the Raiders, anxiously searching the thick forest for Vikings attempting to flank Ewen’s forces. To the south, through the brush, Baris saw the forces of the Baron of Kobe engaged with a large group of Vikings. His axe thirsted for blood, but the knight could not leave the rear of the formation undefended.

Suddenly someone burst from the underbrush. Baris raised his axe and began to yell, but lowered it when he saw it was Cekiya. He kept his weapon ready, however

Cekiya trotted up to the knight and smiled happily. “Ewen wants to play with the Raiders!”

Finally, some action! “We take the battle to the enemy!” Baris yelled and pointed his battle-axe to the west “Raiders, with me!” With that, he ran off into the woods.

***

“Charge!” Ewen yelled, and led his men toward the huscarls engaged with the White Ravens. With a crash the lines met, and the forest was filled with flashing blades and screaming warriors.

Ewen found himself engaged with two huscarls, one a young blond man wielding two hand axes, the other an old man swinging a battle-axe. The knight’s sword rose and fell, blood from a previous engagement running across the ruby set into the pommel. The old man took the blow on the head of his axe and twisted it with great force, the blade caught within the curve of the axe. Ewen almost lost his grip, but a deft flick of his wrist freed his blade. He chopped sideways at his opponent, but the Viking blocked the blow with the haft of his axe.

Tora was still engaged with the redheaded brothers. She had abandoned her bow and was wielding only her short sword. She grinned and moved like the wind, swinging her blade quickly to block or attack as need or opportunity presented itself. “Have at you!” she yelled. The Viking to her left grunted in anger and, abandoning all defense, swung at the woman two-handed. Tora hastily blocked the blow and quick-stepped back as the weapon shattered under the force of the blow. Her other opponent’s attack missed her by a hairsbreadth.

Water burst into the air near the Viking on Tora's right, but it quickly fizzled, leaving only mist. Fortunately this provided enough distraction for Tora to retreat a few steps.

“Up Sir Baris!” Tora heard from the right, and her spirits rose. Sir Baris and Rathbar's raiders were charging the huscarl's flank! Baris, in full plate armor, was his wielding his wicked-looking battle axe high above his head and screaming in joy. From somewhere to the left came the cry, “Up Sir Baris’s what?”

Sir Ewen attacked both of his opponents in quick succession, his sword moving through a familiar attack pattern. The old man blocked with his axe, but the blond was not as quick. The knight's blade laid open half the man's skull, and the Viking went down.

A short time later two tall Vikings were engaged with Tora. One was red-haired, the other a platinum blond, both their hair and beards braided, and their faces were scarred. The brothers lay dead on the forest floor, slain in the Raiders’ charge. Her short sword lay shattered atop the moss. Unwilling to go down without a fight, the woman drew a dagger and lunged at the redheaded one. Her target stepped back and blocked with a the haft of his axe, keeping out of range of the dagger.

The blond Viking swung at her, but Tora ducked and quickly backpedaled, dodging his follow through. She lunged, getting inside the reach of his axe. Her blade plunged into his mouth and emerged from his cheek in a shower of blood. “Momma Tora says take your medicine!” As the warrior’s battle-axe fell from nerveless fingers, Tora caught it and swung hastily at the red-hair, who was forced back a step.

Meanwhile, the battle continued to rage. The Blue Boars had taken the initiative and defeated the Viking archers. The flanking huscarls were severely mauled, but the White Ravens paid a heavy price, reduced to five, including Captain Garvo and Sparky. The charge led by Sir Baris and Rathbar's Raiders had turned the tide, sending the huscarls into retreat.

Seeing his comrades fleeing, the old man engaged with Ewen backed away and turned to flee. The knight cut him down.

The red-haired Viking engaged with Tora swung at Tora to put her on the defensive, and then took the opportunity to flee. Tora calmly took up her bow and shot him in the back. He fell forward, landing on his face, arms and legs spread wide. He twitched once and then moved no more.

It had been about forty five minutes since the ambush began in a hail of arrows.
“Men, form up on me.” Ewen organized his remaining forces in good formation, turned northeast and advanced back toward the road.

Just before reaching the road, they warriors came upon the squires and their horses. “Uldis, take the horses to the rear of the column and follow.”

The men and few women crept to the edge of the road and looked back to the ford, but saw not a living soul, nor did they hear any sounds of fighting.

“Mount up,” Ewen ordered. The knights took the front, mounted upon their warhorses with their lances ready. The household troops were at their flanks, and behind them were the Blue Boars. Rathbar's Raiders again protected the rear. Thus arrayed, Ewen’s warriors advanced down the road to the ford.

As the troops marched, they found the signs of battle everywhere. They came to the spot where Baris had seen Kobe's men fighting. There they found a handful of Kaldoric bodies, identified by the heraldry of their lord and their fine kit, surrounded by piles of dead Vikings. Further down the road, where Sir Kodar's troops had been fighting, it was the opposite. The bodies of Kaldorans greatly outnumbered those of the Vikings. Further on, just north of the river, they found evidence of a debacle. This was where the Baron of Kolorn made his last stand. In all there lay the bodies of nearly thirty knights and footmen, the Baron amongst them.

The scent of mud, blood, and shit filled the air. The riding horses whinnied and shied, and the squires did their best to maneuver the skittish horses around hacked limbs and fingers. The warhorses, trained for battle, took in the stench stoically. Not all of the men did, however, and the sound of retching could be heard from somewhere along the line.

In the ford, half a dozen of Sir Stareton's troops lay dead, slain by arrows. The river ran red with their blood. On the other side of the river Ewen’s troops came upon several dozen dead Vikings, and a few troops wearing the arms of the Order of the Lady of Paladins. None were alive.

Just past the body of the last member of the Order, Tora found tracks in evidence that the army had pulled off the road towards the river. She pointed these out to Sir Baris. The further south they marched, the fewer bodies they saw, and all of those were Vikings.

It appeared the rear of the army had retreated early on. “I think I know what happened,” Baris said. “It looks like the King was wounded, as the runner said. The King’s forces withdrew, covered by the rear part of the center, while the Order of the Lady of Paladins fought a rear-guard action so Lord Firith and the others could escape.”

“I think you're right, Sir Baris!” Tora agreed.

“But that means they left us for dead!” Baris exclaimed.

“I hate to say it, but it was an entirely rational decision on their part,” Tora said sadly.

Further on, Tora noticed something about the tracks headed south. More and more of them were not made by boots like those worn by Kaldoric forces. She quickly rode ahead to confirm her suspicions. “It appears the Vikings pursued the King's forces!” she cried. “We must get after them!”

“Ride!” Ewen ordered, and the horses thundered down the road. Ewen looked around, keeping one eye on his troops, another looking for the enemy.

Cekiya suddenly appeared next to Ewen. “Run and catch, run and catch, the lamb falls into the blackberry patch!” she sang.

Ewen looked sharply in her direction and shook his head, not understanding her.

“I hear Vikings!” Cekiya explained happily.

Ewen raised his hand for a halt and silence. Those assembled stopped, and strained their ears. “Where away, Cekiya?”

“Snakes in the woodshed!” Cekiya said cryptically in a sing-song voice.

Ewen blinked, and finally figured out what she was saying. “The Vikings are headed back!” Ewen yelled. “Quickly, off the road!”

The men and horses rushed into the woods southeast of the ford and waited for the approaching Vikings.

“We could attack any stragglers once the main force passes,” Baris said.

“That depends on how large the force is,” Ewen replied.

“Perhaps we could attack them at the ford?” Baris wondered.

“No, they have too many archers.” Ewen whispered, and then grinned. “And remember, we don't want to defeat the Vikings just yet.”

***

They could hear the approaching army before they could see it. Hundreds of men marched, singing an unnerving song in their strange language. No doubt it was a victory ballad. Their deep voices droned over the hills. Some of Ewen’s men shivered, either in fear or cold, but stayed silent. The squires and horsemen muffled the horses. The line of Vikings was long. Ewen and Baris estimated the enemy at nearly seven hundred troops.

Toward the front of the enemy army was a group of apparent leaders; they were larger Vikings with better equipment than their fellows. The man who seemed to be in charge appeared to be in his thirties, and was probably not the King of Harbaal. Not far behind the leader Baris and Cekiya spotted one Dragoran Shengaad, the wizard who had blasted the little adder. “Everything is switching from inside to outside,” Cekiya muttered. Baris shook his head. He would never be able to understand her.

“Sir Ewen, look there, that is the wizard Dragoran Shengaad.” Ewen nodded in acknowledgement.

***

By the time the Viking army had passed, it was close to four o’clock and it had begun to rain.

Ewen and his comrades emerged from their hiding place and marched south. The knight surveyed the terrain, his gaze falling upon the three forested peaks in this area. He felt a sense of unease, and realized he had had the feeling all day. Now that he had time to reflect, he recognized it as a Deryni feeling.

“I feel something strange,” Ewen said.

“Does that mean there is another Deryni nearby?” Baris asked.

“Possibly,” Ewen replied. “It is certainly a malevolent force.” Ewen focused his mind, and strengthened his mental defenses as best he could.

Kaelyn had overheard the conversation, and she thought back to the day before. Had it only been yesterday that she had summoned the water sprite? The mage remembered what the Elmithri had said: there were many to the north who were alive, and with spirit. She realized that when the creature had called Cekiya blank, it was saying something else. “There could be a Morgannette conclave going on,” she told Ewen. “Or it could be Lady Bresyn.”
“Maybe so,” Ewen agreed. He puzzled over this problem as he rode on. Slowly he came to realize that the eerie feeling in his head was an attempt to contact him. Perhaps he should find out who the other powerful being in the area was. He stretched his mind and followed the line of power back to its source. He suddenly felt an alien sense of satisfaction. It was unclear whether the other person felt satisfaction because Ewen had figured out what was going on, or whether alien presence was satisfied for another reason. Ewen, sitting in his saddle, organized his mental shields, and left his mind open to the person who had been trying to communicate with him.

“Does Morgan have any male operatives?” Kaelyn idly wondered.

Baris remembered a tale Bevan had told him once, of how she had first met Morgan. She had mentioned that two male knights were attending him. Baris did not recall if Bevan said whether they were Deryni.

When Ewen’s forces arrived at Ovendel, the first thing they saw was the smoke. The village was a shambles. Few people were about; apparently most of the peasants had fled to the gods only knew where. In the distance, the manor-house was alight, flames flickering after smoke that stretched to the heavens. None of the homes in the village were afire.

Ewen came across a man was slumped against a water-trough. The knight dismounted, grabbed the man bodily and turned him around roughly. The man was aged, his eyes sunken, and droplets fell from his coarse graying beard. By his dress he might have been a servant in the manor.

“Tell me man, where is the King?!” the knight exclaimed.

“The King, the King!” the man mumbled, dazed.

“Yes, your King, you fool!”

The man closed his eyes and his head lolled back. “The King has fled! The King! Coward!”

Ewen slapped the man. “Silence, fool!”

That seemed to bring the man to his senses. He opened his eyes and they widened as he realized the class of the man he was addressing. “Milord!”

“Watch your tongue, lest it be struck from you mouth,” Ewen spat, mounted his horse and rode on.

Strangely, other than the burning manor, there was no evidence of a battle. Neither bodies nor fallen weapons littered the ground. However, it was clear that the King had fled.

It was around six o'clock and close to dark. A cool rain fell. Ewen ordered his forces to take shelter in the peasant's homes, and to gather supplies. Tora led the foraging effort and a sufficient amount of food for two days rations was gathered.

Tora busied herself organizing a watch, and seeing to it that all of the men were quartered. Captain Garvo of the White Ravens came up to her. His four remaining men stood behind him, a few paces back, their heads low. “Tora, we are done,” he said gravely. “We're heading back to Tashal.”

Tora blinked, and thought quickly. “But think, the silver caravan is lost,” she said. “The merchants will have no extra money; it will be chaos in Tashal before long. Don't you want to remain with Ewen's well organized force? Remember, unlike the merchants, he can still pay you.”

Garvo thought the matter over for a few moments, then sighed. “Very well.”

***

It was around nine thirty. Ewen sat atop a hay bed in his own peasant hut, his legs crossed. Two men at arms stood guard outside his door. The knight was desperate to know what was going on with the rest of the army. He attempted to clairvoy Sir Prehil. The knight stretched his out his mind, seeking his friend. He wormed his way into Prehil's head, and looked through the alderman's eyes. He heard the thunder of hooves. His vision went in and out of focus. It was raining, Prehil was riding hard down a muddy road. Ewen thought it might be the road from Airth to Heru. Through Prehil's ears, Ewen heard Prehil's voice, a strange sensation. “By Halea's magnificent mammaries, I'll make it!” It appeared he rode alone.

Ewen felt that eerie sensation in his head again. Taking a risk, he attempted to rapport with the person who he had felt in his mind earlier that day. A single thought entered the knight's mind: 'Who?'

Ewen pondered that for a moment. What name should he send? 'Ewen,’ he thought.

'Well done,' someone else thought in Ewen's head. 'Are you injured?'

'No. Who?' Ewen sent back, and waited. He waited a long time, but there was no response.

Later, Ewen took Rahel's mirror out of its case. He concentrated upon it, and his sister’s face appeared in the glass. This magic was becoming easier.

“Brother, two nights in a row, you spoil me.”

“I am full of news,” Ewen said, “but first: I had a curious conversation with a Deryni of some sort.” Ewen conveyed the gist of his interaction through the link, along with news that the army was ambushed, decimated, and in flight. Bastune was slain, the flower of Kaldoric Chivalry was in disarray.

Rahel digested this news with aplomb. “And yet, at the same time, you received a long-distance rapport with an unknown Deryni? That is disturbing.”

“I was presuming it was one of our father's agents.”

“A reasonable supposition,” Rahel agreed, “but disturbing that we did not know about it, especially that I didn't know about it.” She pursed her lip in thought. “I will have to ask Elena,” she said finally. “I would not like to think that we were being kept out. By the way, brother, you may be interested to know that I have advanced certain sums to Pesera, among others, in exchange for certain promises. He may end up owing me a great deal of money.”

Ewen grinned. “I'm glad you were able to act upon my intelligence.”

“I am not concerned about the defeat and flight of the Kaldoric army, that is a good thing,” Rahel said, returning to the matter at hand. “But I am concerned about this random Deryni element.”

“We saw the leadership of the Vikings earlier today, or at least those Vikings in this force. Dragoran was among them.”

“Dragoran? I do not know of this man, but seeing he is part of the Viking army elevates his prominence.”

“That's not entirely surprising,” Ewen said. “We knew he was gathering intelligence for the Harbaalese.”

“I think, brother dear, that you should catch up with whatever is left of the royal army as quickly as possible, and reconsider, based on its condition,” Rahel said. “I would not attempt to engage this unknown Deryni, they are either for us, or they are against us; they are not neutral.” She paused, gathering her thoughts. “If they are for us, there is nothing you can do. If they are against us, the risk is far too great, that you, and possibly those with you, may be harmed or even destroyed.” Rahel set her jaw. “This we cannot permit. I would recommend you be aware of them, but do not seek them out, do not attempt to engage them. Instead, find the army of Kaldor and rejoin it, to whatever advantage you have. I shall continue to examine our options in this city.”

Ewen nodded in acknowledgement. “As always, I appreciate your counsel, dear sister. Good night, we will talk again tomorrow.” The image of Rahel slowly faded.

It took time, but eventually Ewen was able to still his mind enough to reorganize his mental defenses, and he closed his mind to the unknown Deryni. The knight lay back, closed his eyes, and tried to sleep.

Nolus 6, 732
Peasant Hovel, Ovendel, Kaldor


Rain fell upon a thatch roof, uncaring that the man inside was trying to catch what sleep he could. It pattered ceaselessly upon the thatch, as if mocking him. A drop wormed through the hay and fell on Baris's face, waking him up fully.

Baris opened his eyes with a start. By the light outside, it was near dawn or shortly after; four am. The day after battle was always the worst. Over time, you forget the terror, but remember the glory. On the day, you have no time to think, only fight, and try to survive. The next day, you have time to reflect, but your bowels still clench in fear. What will happen today, you wonder? Is this the day I die? The knight shivered, and not just from the cold. He wished Elsa were there, just to keep him warm.

The forces of Sir Ewen marched through the rain and mud toward Airth, arriving around eleven o'clock in the morning. In Airth they learned that the royal army had retreated there the day before, and continued south that morning.

Before leaving Airth, Ewen took an accounting of his men, and learned some of the Blue Boars had gone astray during the morning march. Whether they had deserted or were merely lost was unclear. He swore, but there was nothing to do for it at the moment.
Around eight o'clock in the evening, Sir Ewen’s men arrived at Heru. The royal army was there, and still in some disarray. Ewen reported in, and was told he would have to report to the King on the morrow. With that, the knights retired to their tents, which were still in place and unmolested.

Ewen laid upon his bedroll, and thought back on the chaotic past few days. Although not exactly to plan, things were proceeding as he wished them.
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