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Authors: John Buttrick

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BOOK: To Be Chosen
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They were headed southwest, morning passed quickly and as the afternoon wore on the concrete road became hardened dirt. They formed two columns at that point and maintained a steady trot. Sir Daniel stayed quiet the entire time while Tomei chattered at him. Behind them the Teki were whispering, gesturing with their hands, and glancing lovingly at each other. The Duke’s son and Sergeant Zaccum were right behind the pair, with the young noble wearing a sour expression, clearly not pleased. Roder went up and down the line, making sure all was as it should be.

“He didn’t even inspect us,” Slack-jawed Guardsman Lakane was saying to burly Joel Halkum who was riding beside him.

“I just hope he will order a stop so we can eat. We’ve already missed our midday meal,” his buddy, Duncan Hawk replied, whose lean frame would lead one to believe he had missed a few vital meals, but he ate like a horse, and was full of energy.

Conversations like that were happening up and down the line. The men would get sloppy if they begin to believe their commander does not care if each horse is exactly the same distance from the other or how clean they kept their uniforms and weapons. Not stopping for meals was a sure way of conveying to the men that their commander is not giving them much thought. The talk was mild so far, but if the Knight does not call for a stop soon, the grumbling will only worsen.

Roder yanked on the reins and Dancer, his brown Battencayan stallion, double-timed to the head of the column. Lieutenant Tomei was still chattering while Sir Daniel’s eyes seemed to be continuously scanning the surroundings and paying little attention to the obviously o
ne-sided conversation.

“Sir Daniel, that field up ahead on the left is a perfect place to rest the horses,” Roder stated, trying to make it sound like an observation.

The young Knight glanced back at the men and horses following him. “Two spans ahead on the right is a field better suited to our needs. We will stop there for three quarters of a mark.”

The field in sight seemed adequate and trees lined both sides of the road, which curved to the left, making it impossible to see more than half a span. The Knight must have spent a good deal of time studying maps to be so sure of what was around the next bend. But still, “Is there something wrong with this field?” Roder dared to ask. He normally did not question a command decision.

“Three hundred paces into the woods are a black bear and two cubs; the third is in the field. See that dip toward the center,” he replied while pointing his finger.

Sure enough a black furred head poked up and then back down out of sight. Tomei shook his head wonderingly. “You faced countless yetis and are concerned about a bear and a few cubs?” the Lieutenant blurted.

“If she attacks we will do what must be done, but I see no reason to bother her until then. If we enter the field and the cub cries out, which it will, the horses will be nervous, the men will get jumpy, and the she-bear will sense danger to her cub, which will lead to unpleasantness, all of which can be avoided by using the next field,” Sir Daniel replied.

“I apologize for questioning you?” Roder said. He really should have had a little more confidence in the young Knight.

“That would not happen in the cavalry,” Tomei stated, the contempt clear in his voice.

“Then I’m glad Sergeant Keenan is not of the cavalry,” Sir Daniel spoke up. “Feel free to make suggestions and question me, privately, when you think I am about to make a mistake. Cale, why didn’t you mention it?”

Tomei glanced at the Knight. “I trust you to decide where we go, what to do, and when. My trust was not misplaced. Obviously, you knew about the field ahead and already planned on stopping before the Sergeant here even made the suggestion.”

Roder just could not make himself like the man.

“It’s good to know you trust me because after the break we are going into the woods to make up time. Sergeant Keenan can correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe this is the road the Royal Guardsmen travel when they come and go from Duke Cantor’s estate,” Sir Daniel began to inform them.

Before Roder could open his mouth to confirm the Knight was correct, Jonah Ducalin rode forward. “This is the route usually taken and it is the fastest. We should stay on it.”

“As the crow flies, your home is two hundred-one spans from Ducanton. After the bend, this road goes straight south for another thirty-five spans, and then west for another thirty, at which point we go south for another ten in order to reach the swamps. That is two hundred forty-six spans. My way, we have half that to cover. By cutting across country, I can get us to that same spot on the road in a matter of days rather than a week or more,” Sir Daniel told him.

“If we were in the Tannakonna region, I would trust you to know the back trails, but this is not your home. Have you even been in southwestern Ducaun before?” Jonah Ducalin demanded to know.

“He was trained in Aakadon. I’ll wager he knows every trail on the continent,” stated the male Teki, David. The man spoke with absolute conviction but it was clear he was only supporting the Knight.

Sir Daniel focused on the young lord. “You will guide us when we reach the swamps. Until then, we go the way I say,” he replied, evenly, offering no answer to the question.

Sergeant Zaccum placed his hand on the young man’s shoulder when it looked as if the Duke’s son was going to argue. “Sir Daniel is in command,” he said in a soft voice.

“I apologize, it is not your fault my aunt decided one Knight and fifty Royal Guardsmen were sufficient for the task. I find it odd that a foreign prince warrants a full legion as escort while a matter so crucial to the kingdom receives so few,” Jonah said, and then let his horse drop back behind the pair of Teki.

The statement was left hanging in the air and nagged a little at Roder’s own concerns over the mission. It was clear as a spot on a recruit’s collar that the Queen had complete confidence in the abilities of those she sent; otherwise an entire legion probably would have been dispatched. Infantry would be better in the swamp than cavalry, but neither branch of service was directly responsible for the safety of the royal family. Only five thousand Royal Guardsmen were on the rolls, one thousand at the palace, and the rest were scattered across Ducaun, guarding the royals and their properties. Roder was as proud of his uniform as any, but would not have minded much if Cleona had added some infantry and cavalry on this mission.

He dropped back to where Corporal Duwin was chiding Guardsman Rabin for slacking a pace behind in the formation, causing the entire back end of the left column to shift back by the same distance, and be out of sink with the right. The correction was made by the time Roder reached the trouble spot.

“You will be pitching Sir Daniel’s tent when we make camp and pull first and third watch,” Duwin told the guardsman.

“As you say, Corporal,” Rabin replied, sourly.

Roder gestured to Duwin. “Start telling the men we will be stopping for a three quarter of a mark rest within the next two spans,” he told him, speaking loud enough for his voice to carry to the nearest guardsmen.

“It is about time. You know, Sir Daniel hasn’t sent any scouts out. We have no idea what is ahead, to the sides, or on our flanks,” Duwin replied in a soft voice. “What was wrong with the field we just passed?”

“Did you happen to see the mother bear and her three cubs?” Roder questioned him in a voice meant to carry. Some of the men close by may have heard the question; several heads had nodded when the corporal had asked it.

“No,” Duwin replied.

“Sir Daniel did. He was raised in the backwoods and is aware of everything around him, even with a cavalryman nattering in his ear,” Roder stated, and drew a few chuckles from some of the men. That said, the Corporal had been correct, scouts should be out, but it was better to build up the confidence of the men in their leader than to undermine it.

Duwin nodded his head and then rode up and down the columns spreading the word. Shortly after they rounded the bend, the field Sir Daniel spoke of came into view. There was a good deal of moaning and groaning when the men dismounted and walked around after being so long in the saddle. None, and Roder included himself, had spent so much time on a horse in ages. In Ducanton, most of the guardsmen marched and stood at their posts, only riding their horses on the training field or in the city when escorting the Queen or some other person whom she wanted to receive the honor. Presently, men relieved themselves in the bushes while others broke out their rations for a quick meal. The Knight drank from a canteen, ate no food, and moved with ease, showing no sign of fatigue or soreness. The Teki did not appear any worse for the wear, nor did the cavalrym
an seem to be feeling any pain.

Three quarters of a mark later, Sir Daniel called for all to mount up and surprised the men by leading them deeper into the woods rather than back onto the road. Word had spread about the Knight’s powers of observation by that time, so few of the men complained, especially since they now had some food in their bellies. The forest was thick with pines yet the young commander navigated both columns through the midst of them without error, which also boosted the confidence level of the men in him. The sun was glowing amber in the sky and Roder was wondering when a halt would be called. Traditionally, they would have stopped by now to give the men time to set up their tents, dig a latrine, eat, post guards, and tend to the horses before dark.

Roder double-timed to the front of the column. The Knight glanced at him and then back at the men. “There is a spring half a span to the left, we will be camping there. Inform the men if you please.”

“As you say, Sir Daniel,” Roder replied crisply. He was gladdened by the fact that the Knight did not need reminding.

He dropped back to Corporal Duwin. “Sir Daniel has ordered that we will be stopping shortly near a spring to make camp. Spread the word.”

Duwin nodded his head and rode down one side of the column and up the other, informing everyone. A small lake came into view, no doubt formed by the spring, and Sir Daniel called a halt. Men dismounted and began performing their assigned tasks. In short order, all of the tents were up and the horses were being brushed and fed. Russ Monner, the designated cook, the best in the entire Royal Guards, which is why Roder had chosen him, broke out the pots and began making beans and frying slices of salted ham on a skillet. The aroma soon had everyone’s mouth watering.

Sir Daniel went over to the horses, touching them, rubbing their necks, and speaking softly in their ears. They seemed to respond well to his ministrations. Each horse he walked away from perked up as if no longer fatigued from the extended ride.

“He cares more about the horses than he does us,” Guardsman Carper grumbled before forking in a mouthful of beans.

“Lonni, I care more about your horse than I do you,” Allen Camden told him.

“Loner is better looking,” added Marco Reynar, who was sitting beside them.

“Yuk it up you two. I’m being serious, my butt hurts, my legs are chaffed, and this is just the first day,” Carper replied after swallowing and washing down the beans.

“Do you see Rabin over there,” Roder asked, while pointing at the guardsman who had just finished erecting the tent for Sir Daniel. “He is about to go on guard duty and will go on it again in the third watch. Carper, if you would like to join him; keep complaining, the both of you can keep each other awake with all the bellyaching.”

“Serge, I was just saying,” Carper began.

“I heard you well enough and that sounded like the beginning of another complaint.” Roder interrupted. “Every
Royal Guardsman is sore. Sir Daniel and his Teki escorts are clearly used to a long stretch in the saddle, Lieutenant Tomei as well. I will be blighted before allowing us to appear weak in front of them. Your fellow guardsmen seem to feel the same as I, seeing as not one of them is talking about how his butt hurts. You now have first and third watch.”

Carper frowned, but his expression could not get more soured. “It will be as you say, Sergeant,” he said, finished eating, and then walked over to where Rabin was now out guarding the trees a hundred paces to the left.

Sir Daniel and Lieutenant Tomei broke out the wooden practice blades and were soon moving gracefully through the forms. After the warm up, they began to spar. Both blades moved in a blur with Sir Daniel mostly on defense, although he did occasionally go on the offensive, causing the Lieutenant to back up. They went ten rounds and the Knight managed to graze his opponent’s shoulder, once, which would be a minor scratch in a real fight, but was a major accomplishment against a Master-of-the-blade. Sir Daniel had lost every match, yet did not seem discouraged in the least. What Roder truly found remarkable was; the Knight was not even breathing hard at the end while the Lieutenant sweated like a horse after a ten span trot.

The four of them, Sir Daniel, Tomei, and the pair of Teki ate together and then the Knight spoke to the couple, who began to pull small containers from their packs. The female walked straight up to Roder, smiled sweetly, she was pretty, and handed him one of the containers.

“The ointment will lesson your discomfort. Sir Daniel bought enough from our troop for all of you,” she informed him and then went on to Guardsman Pinehill before Roder could thank her, while the male Teki made his way around the camp passing out more of the stuff. They did not stop until every guardsman had a container of ointment.

BOOK: To Be Chosen
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