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Authors: Rick Shelley

Tags: #Fantasy, #General, #Fiction

Son of the Hero (31 page)

BOOK: Son of the Hero
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I’m leaving now, I told myself, and this time I did. Movement still wasn’t automatic. I had to concentrate on every step, watching as I moved each foot out in front of the other. I seemed to be sweating profusely by the time I got to the stairs and started up, and it wasn’t over even then.

I climbed those stairs forever. Now, the stairway leading from the crypt back up to the living levels of Castle basil
is
extremely long, but no stairway could be as long as the one I climbed in that dream. I climbed and climbed, and when I looked back down, I had scarcely gone a tenth of the way. I climbed some more, making a little progress, but not as much as I should have. I counted my steps over the next stretch and looked back down when I reached fifty. It looked as though I had actually made it up about a dozen.

I kept climbing.

I woke to find that my body had started without waiting for me. I wasn’t climbing steps now, though, and I couldn’t remember getting to the top of that stairway.

But this was no dream now. Annick was on top of me again. I’m not even positive that
she
was fully awake when we started making love the second time—near the tag end of the night. While our lovemaking lasted, my memories of the congregation of Heroes in the crypt were pushed aside, out of focus but not completely out of mind. Afterward, Annick and I lay together, neither of us ready to sleep again. Memories of the dream—nightmare—flooded back over me. For some minutes, all I could do was relive the scene below Castle Basil. To get that out of my head, I tried to focus on the battle that was coming, the fight that I would be one nexus of by necessity—and that Annick would certainly be in the middle of by desire.

The night had nearly ended. Annick and I got up, cleaned up as best we could, and dressed. There was a trace of distant morning visible outside, a glow that let me see well enough to move about in the cottage. As soon as there was enough light to
work
with, I had to complete the passages. Soon after that, unless something went drastically wrong, our private arena would be the staging area for the complete armed might of Varay—as pitiful as that might me.

Annick hugged me and rested her head on my shoulder for just an instant. She was warm, pliable for a change. She kissed my cheek and whispered, “I needed that.”

I brushed the hair away from her face. “I think I did too.” I returned the hug and we broke the clinch. There was neither the time nor the desire for another round, not then, maybe not ever. Despite the vigorous intimacy of the night, we were still worlds apart, in many ways. We looked at each other but found no words. I couldn’t ask Annick what she was thinking, because I couldn’t share my thoughts in return, not a cold appraisal of how little we had in common. After more minutes, the spell was broken, quickly, like the snap of a crab leg.

“I don’t suppose that we’ll see much of each other after the battle’s over,” Annick said.

“That’s possible.” Her words brought my dream back to the fore. If the dream was true, I wouldn’t be seeing much of anyone. Back home, I would have dismissed the nightmare without too much thought. But,
in Varay
, I couldn’t be so sure that there was nothing to it but nocturnal fear.

“You have your duty and I have mine.” Annick kept her voice low, but the determination was still there. “I won’t forsake my vengeance for anyone.”

I shrugged. That was safer than words.

“This night is one to remember, but not to relive,” Annick said.

“I think that’s best.” I took her hands in mine, just long enough to give them a squeeze. “I don’t think we could ever recapture the moment.” I tried to keep any relief out of my voice. “But the paths of our duty may cross on occasion,” I added, releasing her hands.

“We’d better get our horses saddled,” Annick said. She turned away, and we had enough to occupy us until I could start on the doors.

Sir Hambert and his men were just moving into the orchard when I decided that I had enough light to work. I used the cottage’s front door for the link to Arrowroot. I applied the sea-silver and stood looking into the cottage when I reached for the tracing so the men and horses would be coming out of the cottage as they arrived. It would have been incredibly stupid to get
that
turned around. The actual connection came quickly with only slight effort and a sudden twinge of hunger. Parthet was there, his hands touching mine, his face looking up and grinning.

“Your mother is at Coriander,” Parthet said. “We decided that that would be faster than me popping over there after we did this door. I’ve got Resler and his soldiers here, ready and waiting. I’ll hold this way open while you do the other.” He looked quite his old self, fully recovered.

“Right.” I grinned back at him.

I used the stable door for the second passage. There wasn’t much choice, but this door wasn’t much wider or higher than the cottage’s front door. Even Parthet could have spanned it without difficulty. Lining two doors and opening the passages took less than twenty minutes. Not bad, I thought.

When the men started coming through from Arrowroot and Coriander, I had new responsibilities. The biggest “command” I had ever held was captain of a tug-of-war team in high school. And all that meant was that I got to hold down the tail end of the rope and get dragged across the line last when we lost. We always lost. But now, I had the entire army of Varay to command, and the stakes were enormous, more than just getting dragged through the mud. I would have help, but everyone would look to me for a battle plan and for any tactical decisions. After all, I was the hotshot Hero, whether I was qualified for anything or not. Barons Resler and Dieth came through with their men. I expected Dieth to be helpful, but I wasn’t sure about Resler. Annick didn’t think he was worth much. And Parthet came through with the last of the men from Arrowroot. So did Baron Kardeen, with another score of Basiliers. And I had Harkane, Lesh, and even Timon with me again.

Kardeen set up a headquarters for us in the orchard close to the cottage. He had a large-scale map of the area right around Castle Thyme, both sides of the border, showing considerable topological detail. Kardeen took care of administrative details too, finding out just how many men we had—mounted and on foot, archers, lancers, that sort of thing. He was damn efficient. In thirty minutes he had messengers running and we were getting organized. I told him that we needed to find out where the Dorthini army was and how many men were coming. He got word to Baron Dieth and scouts were out in five minutes.

“How do you do it?” I asked Kardeen.

“Experience. I’ve been making sure that things get done for twenty-five years.”

“You should be running this show instead of me.”

He shook his head quickly. “I’m an administrator, not a general. But you tell me what you want and I’ll find a way, or find the people who
can
find the way. If there is one.”

I nodded. “Right now, a lot depends on how far off the Etevar’s army is. If we’ve got time, it would be nice to get inside Castle Thyme before his main force arrives.” I shrugged. “We probably won’t have that kind of time, but just in case we do get the chance, it would help to know the layout inside the castle.”

“Give me ten minutes and I’ll have the floor plan.”

Kardeen laughed. “That’s an easy one. Try something harder.”

“Okay, how about a simple way to get inside?”

“That’s military. I’ll have to find you someone who knows the castle for that.”

There was a commotion at the edge of the orchard, and I went to see what that was about while Kardeen went to find someone who knew Castle Thyme. One of our patrols had surprised a Dorthini patrol and taken a couple of prisoners. No one had escaped to carry the news of our presence back to Castle Thyme or to the approaching Dorthini army.

Our scouts didn’t get back until midafternoon, and by then I was ready to start swinging in the trees I was so nervous. The early reports that the Dorthinis would reach us somewhat after noon hadn’t been borne out, but I still thought that our scouts should have had time to find the enemy and get back … if any of them were going to get back. When the scouts did return, they brought both good news and bad news. The bad news was that the Etevar had four thousand soldiers. The good news was that they wouldn’t reach Castle Thyme until the next morning. They were moving slower than expected and the only logical place for them to bivouac for the night would leave them with three hours’ marching to reach the castle.

I went looking for Parthet and found him just returning from Arrowroot.

“Let’s put together a think tank,” I told him. “I want to find a way to get inside Castle Thyme before the Etevar gets here.”

Parthet nodded, and we gathered the three barons, Sir Hambert, and two soldiers who had once been garrisoned at Thyme. My people were all there too, but only Parthet took part in the conference.

“I want to take Castle Thyme before the Dorthini army arrives, and I don’t want the Etevar to know that we’ve done it,” I started. “We get part of our force inside the castle and put the rest around it as if we have it under siege. The army outside retreats from the approaching Dorthinis tomorrow. Once the Etevar’s army moves past the castle, we move the men inside out against the rear of the Dorthini army, put the Etevar in the middle.” Turn the ambush idea back against him.

Everybody claimed to like the idea even though it didn’t alter the fact that we would still be outnumbered by about three to one when the main Dorthini army arrived. A practical way to get inside Castle Thyme was harder to find. I was counting on Parthet, but his reaction to most of my suggestions was “I’ve got to be able to see what I’m doing to do it,” and we had to make our move against the castle during the night.

“Other than you climbs the wall,” one of the soldiers who knew the castle well said, “they’s jest two ways in, the main gate and the postern. The gate’s gotta drawer-bridge and por’cullis. Postern’s jest a thick door. When they’s fixin’ to use that, they shoves a plank acrost the ditch or jest climbs down through it.”

“The postern, it’s a wood door?” I asked.

“Aye, wood a foot thick wi’ a wood bar and leg-sized metal hinges.”

I turned to Parthet. “If we get you close after dark, you think you could conjure us something to get us through that postern fast? Something like an explosion or a cutting torch?”

“Gots to be real fast,” the soldier said. “That door’s hard by the guards’ room. They hears anythin’ faster’n the Great Earth Mother can scratch her grabber.”

“No light at all?” Parthet asked.

“We can’t afford much,” I told him. “No more than my flashlight, with some kind of shield over it.”

He took a long time thinking. He shoved his glasses up on his nose. His eyes moved around as though he were studying the rims. “A flash fire,” he muttered. “Once it starts, I’ve
got
light.” His voice trailed off, but his lips kept moving. After a couple of minutes of that, he looked at me and nodded. “It may be possible.”

“What then?” Kardeen asked.

“We probably won’t be able to get a lot of men up to the postern in advance—too much chance of discovery—but once Parthet forces the door and we get inside, we’ll need reinforcements in a hurry. Any idea how large the garrison is?”

“No, but we have a couple of prisoners who might be persuaded to talk,” Kardeen said. I thought about splinters under the fingernails, hot branding irons, that kind of thing. I doubt that I would have objected to them, which bothers me now that I’ve got time to brood on it.

“I’m sure we can persuade them to chat,” Parthet said before I could put in any comment. “I’ve got a jim-dandy truth spell that’ll get all the answers we need.”

There were thirty-two men left inside the castle. The patrol we had intercepted would be missed when they didn’t return by sunset. Their orders were to get back before then, and orders weren’t disobeyed lightly in the Dorthini army. The garrison had been drawn from the Etevar’s personal guard, the men he had trusted to waylay and kill the Hero of Varay. My father. There were always three sentries on duty on the battlements, relieved every two hours during the night. The rest of the garrison was quartered in the keep, and there was always a sentry on duty there during the night as well. He would hear any commotion when the postern blew.

We spent the rest of the afternoon getting ready for the night’s foray and the morrow’s battle. I picked a dozen hard types to go with Lesh and me in the first “team” that night. Dieth furnished the men to wait in position to reinforce us as soon as the postern was open. We went over the plans of the castle that Kardeen provided. The layout was simple, straightforward, utilitarian. The keep was a small inner circle tangent to the larger outer circle of the curtain wall. A tiny courtyard. A dry ditch around the castle. We put together several ladders to speed our way into and out of the ditch.

Thanks to Kardeen’s efficiency, we had a hot supper, all thirteen hundred and more of us, even though I wouldn’t let anyone light fires that might give away the fact that we were around. The kitchen people at four castles did the cooking. Mother and Parthet tended the doorways while the food was carried through. The meal wasn’t as plentiful or varied as the repasts at Basil, but it was a decent enough meal, in both quantity and quality.

After supper, we went over the plans for the assault on Thyme again. Lesh, Hambert, and I would be the first through the door—underscore the
I
. Two men would escort Parthet to safety as soon as he blew the postern open. If he could. More soldiers would pour into the castle as quickly as possible, fanning out to meet the garrison. It was a nice, simple plan—put the spearhead in, then hurry to overwhelm the defenders through sheer numbers—provided it worked. As soon as the postern blew or burned, the rest of our army would surround the castle, first to make sure that none of the defenders escaped and second to put our phony siege in position.

Then there was just the waiting. We didn’t want to move until we could expect most of the garrison to be asleep. I tried napping, but I was too keyed up to stay down for long, and anyway, every time I closed my eyes that dream from the night before was ready to jump out at me. I certainly didn’t need
that
.

BOOK: Son of the Hero
12.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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