THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU! For all your lovely reviews…Although I didn't get this chapter up as quickly as I'd planned too (makes a change, eh?) I'm glad that I decided to separate the two, I think as this stepped into a new stage of the story I needed to find my footing with mixing some of TP's stuff and my own ideas, learning an important lesson –to stick with my own style because I didn't like the choppiness in some places…anyway…enough analysis.
I will mention one point on the timelines. Yes we are a year ahead, so events that happened in the first year of Squire have already happened, however, Squire misses a year, so I'm still playing around with events and where they should fit!
Hope you enjoy this one,
Confusedknight xxx
The mess tent was packed and despite not having eaten anything all day, Kel decided that she would rather wait than elbow her way through the crowd.
They had set up a temporary camp in Littlecreek and would stay just long enough for the men and horses to rest before pursuing the renegade bandits and Immortals.
Kel ducked outside to find Raoul, who had settled his bulk on a stool in front of one of the massive campfires that was illuminating the dark night. He was joined by Flyndan and other Squad leaders, the Rider group commanders, what appeared to be the most important men of the village and a short woman with straight black hair and golden skin that reflected the dancing light of the fire.
'Would you like anything, my Lord?' Kel asked, wondering if she should be serving drinks for this small gathering.
'No, come and sit down,' Raoul replied between mouthfuls of the company-issued soup.
Kel nodded and sat cross-legged on the floor.
'We're going to use a pretty standard trap,' Raoul explained, mopping up the dregs of his soup with some bread. 'Third company rides through, with the Rider groups scouting to our left and right. Their little ponies will cover the rougher terrain whilst we take whatever tracks we can find. As soon as we have a location then we'll split and send half the company around to their rear.' He paused to swallow.
'And the other half will drive them straight into the trap?' Kel guessed.
Raoul nodded appreciatively, 'It's worked before. If we make a lot of noise then the bandits always think they're two steps ahead. Then we close the net and haul them of to face the Crown's justice.'
'It'll be the gallows for them,' said one villager savagely.
Kel shuddered; she hated any form of execution. It was a horrible thought that the condemned knew about the time and date of their death. Kel would much rather die suddenly, with no time to contemplate the past or feel regret for opportunities missed.
Flyndan, perceptive to Kel's shudder, misunderstood its meaning.
'That's right, girl, it's not all glamour and glory in the Own. You should've taken a desk knight if you don't want the mud slogging work.'
'Stop it Flyn,' Raoul said, his tone commanding. 'Kel was out there with the burial duty today; don't judge her before you see her fight.'
'I know, I know, she's a damn good fencer. But fencing isn't the same as fighting or killing. You'd think she'd have this warrior thing out of her system by now.' Flyndan got up and carried his dishes away.
Raoul looked at her, his gaze questioning.
'It's nothing I haven't heard before,' said Kel curtly.
'Well he should learn to keep his opinions to himself,' growled the dark-haired woman, who Kel now saw wore the Rider's uniform, a gold ring around the emblem on her tunic. It was Buriram Tourakom, Commander of the Queen's Riders.
'He's not the easiest second-in-command, but he's good at it,' commented Dom. 'Flyn will let up, once he sees that this isn't just a hobby for you.'
'I don't need to be liked. I just want to work.' Kel told Dom, disliking the pity in his eyes.
'Kel this is Buri, Commander of the Queen's riders.' Raoul introduced.
'Me and Askew were in the district and thought we'd join this little excursion,' the woman grinned, displaying a set of small neatly arranged teeth.
'Askew is the seventeenth rider group,' said Raoul. Kel filed this information away, not wanting it to be explained again. It was a useful technique that she had picked up from riding with Alex. She had had to learn ways of remembering facts and information about the Scanran customs and language so that she could recall them at half a second's notice.
'Who wants some of this fresh stew?' asked a voice with a thick accent. It was one of the village ladies, who opened up a huge pot that Kel hadn't noticed before. There were acceptances from the village men, but she saw the Tortallan warriors all shaking their heads politely.
'My Lord?' asked the woman.
Raoul declined with a regretful tone, saying that he'd already eaten his fill.
'What about you?' The woman's beady eyes focused on Kel. 'You're all skin and bone.'
'I would love some.' Kel replied, knowing that it would be insulting if none of the visitors ate the prepared meal.
Dom and Raoul watched with a slightly incredulous expression as Kel tucked into the watery brown coloured food. It was hot and salty. The meat was tough and required a lot of chewing and the vegetables or whatever else had been added to the mix had disengaged into a grainy paste, but Kel had eaten worse and the woman beamed as she tucked into the meal.
One by one, other Squad leaders arrived and the meeting began. Kel contributed nothing to the discussion but listened attentively. There was a lot to learn from Raoul, and not all of it involved fighting and tactics. There was also the way in which he dealt with the men; listening to their ideas and at the same time having the authority and confidence to finalise the plans.
Kel sat next to Raoul until the meeting ending, many hours later. With tiredness saturating her every bone she sought out her bedroll. Raoul and the other commanders had been offered rooms at the Inn, so Kel had slunk away, not to set up a tent, but to find Prince. That night she slept next to her horse, for the first time in many, many months, feeling safe settled against his warm mass.
Although Kel had thought she'd known quite a lot about tracking, the next week saw her knowledge expand exponentially. Whilst initially, the bandits had moved fast and clumsily, aiming to get as far away from the looted villages as quickly as possible, now sensing perhaps that they were begin tracked, the robbers began to mask their trail by walking over streams and rocks. They often split into five groups or more, separating to confuse the trail and forcing the King's Own to split into squads.
If the robbers were the hunted, desperate to escape, then the men of the Own were the dogged terriers, pursuing them day and night. The feeling of clean clothes once again faded into a memory as Kel rode as hard as the rest of the men. If she did get a chance to wash her shirt then she wore it wet until it dried. Her hair was scraped back in one sun-bleached tangle and freckles littered her skin, seeming to multiply daily.
It was tough, it was unpleasant, but despite her physical discomfort Kel was satisfied, relieved to be on the road with a task at hand. She knew that she could continue on; having much worse memories of working as a slave to compare it to. When they ran out of insect-repelling lotion Kel bore the bites and itches stoically. When food rationing was imposed, Kel barely noticed, not having much of an appetite in the first place.
Moving as fast as they were, there was barely time to set up a proper camp each night. Many men slept under the starry heavens on dry nights and Kel joined them, curling up next to Prince.
In the mornings, before they moved out, Kel practised her swordplay without fail. She tended to do this before the men were awake; it provoked less staring this way. On the occasions that Raoul caught her doing this, he had looked at her with an odd expression on his face.
Kel suspected that he was relieved that she was keeping up with the gruelling pace, removing any doubts he might've had about her. This suspicion was confirmed by odd thankful grins when Kel performed the tasks set without fuss. She dug latrines, took her own fair share of sentry duty and was even allowed to ride along with a rider group for an afternoon.
From both the Riders and the men of the Own, Kel heard about the pranks usually played between the two groups of warriors. On this hunt however, the days were too long and the mood too serious to contemplate jokes and trickery.
Finally, on the tenth night since leaving the Palace, excited whisperings surged through the company. Kel, who had been riding next to Qasim, sat up straighter. The word was that the bandits planned to attack the town of Stonescross next. If this were true, if it really was a genuine piece of information, then it could mean the end of this punishing hunt.
That evening the Commanders all gathered around a table spread with maps of Stonescross and its surrounding area. Kel was scuttling around preparing a special tea that contained revitalising herbs. From the snippets of conversation which she overheard there were several rich cider traders holed up in the village; too ripe a target for the bandits to refuse, especially since some of their loot had had to have been dumped on their flight.
There were heated discussions, calculations of the bandits speed; would it be possible to overtake them in time to drive them into the planned trap? According to the detailed map, the town was nestled in a between two knolls in the landscape; potentially providing a way for the Own to sneak around unnoticed.
Sergeant Volorin, who knew the town, confirmed that it would be an excellent location for an ambush.
'We've got them,' murmured Buri, her dark eyes glittering.
'It's decided. In the morn we split,' said Raoul. 'Flyn will take fifty of the men and ride fast, taking up a position behind and in Stonescross. The rest of us will drive the swine into the trap.' He looked around at the other men who nodded in agreement.
As the meeting broke up, fat drops of rain began to tumble out of the sky, sparking a flurry of activity. No one wanted to sleep outside when it was wet, even if the canopy of trees did provide some shelter.
'You can sleep in the second compartment of my tent tonight,' offered Raoul, who slung an arm around his weary squire and lead her back to the largest of all the canvas tents. 'In here,' he pulled aside a flap.
Kel just about managed to collect her bed roll, pull off her boots and crawl under the blanket before she fell asleep.
In her dreams Kel became the hunted animal, pursued by the blonde giant who had broken her wrist at Somalkt. She was being chased through a system of underground caves similar to the home of the Sekholm. Her feet pounded an erratic rhythm on the granite floor, her heart pumping in her chest as she ran for her life. Rounding a corner Kel hurtled out into daylight. She skidded to a halt and looked wildly around; there was nowhere to run to.
A familiar nightmare enveloped her; Alex was separated from her by a thriving mass of red-bedecked soldiers. Even as she opened her voice to yell, it was no good. Fighters pressed in at her from all sides. Kel hacked and hacked at the lifeless bodies but even fatal blows could not stop the lifeless corpses from inching closer and closer, blocking her way to Alex...
'Kel, Kel,' Raoul's voice sounded through her panicked haze.
In her dream Kel looked around wildly, had the King's Own come to help? Someone was shaking her shoulder. At last her eyes flew open and at the same instant she unsheathed her knife, disorientated.
'Hey Kel, It's only me,' said Raoul, sitting back on his haunches and eyeing the knife in her hand. Kel squinted through the dark; it was her knight-master, as fully dressed as she was.
'Sorry, Sir,' Kel's voice was muffled. She sat up properly, sheathing the blade and pulling her knees up to her chest.
Raoul seated himself at the end of her bed roll, giving Kel the space that she needed. 'Nervous about tomorrow?' he asked.
Kel shook her head, thankful to concentrate on something other than her terrifying dream. 'It's time to show them the force of the King's justice.'
Raoul nodded in agreement and after a moment's pause said; 'Kel I've decided to place you under Flyn's command tomorrow.'
Kel's eyes widened, slightly disappointed that she wouldn't be amongst the party that drove the renegade troupe into the trap.
'Don't you want to know why I'm sending you with Flyn?'
'Sir, I'm meant to obey without question,' Kel pointed out.
Raoul snorted, 'That's fine in theory if you want to be a foot soldier in an army all your life, following your superiors. But I would hope that one day you'd be giving orders of your own, and when that time comes it's useful to know why you were asked to do particular things; it helps you to benefit from the experience.' Kel thought back to the hundred or so men that she'd ended up leading on the plains of Somalkt and felt a slight stab of annoyance that she couldn't simply say just how much fighting experience she had. She took a second to banish the feeling away.
'You want Flyn to see that I'm serious about the work,' Kel said shrewdly.
'Partly,' Raoul admitted. 'He's likely give you menial tasks that no one else wants to do, but I think Flyn needs to know that you'll take orders from a commoner, that you'll do whatever's necessary.' Kel nodded, understanding even if she didn't like the idea.
'Good,' said Raoul reaching forwards to clap her shoulder. 'Now get some rest, you've got some hard riding ahead of you.'
The first half of the company left at first light, Kel amongst its number. Most of Kel's friends in the Own; Dom, Qasim, Seth and Hassen stayed behind with Lord Raoul, giving Kel the opportunity to learn some new names and faces. However after an hour the conversations lapsed into silence as they thundered through the drizzle.
Kel was fully bedecked in her armour and surged gloriously on top of Prince, revelling in the familiar feel of his bulk and gait beneath her body.
Flyndan navigated the trail expertly and although it narrowed in some places so that the double column had to merge to a single one, their path was unobstructed and mid-afternoon they arrived in Stonescross.
After brief discussions with the town's officials, the men were told to disguise their uniforms and hide their weapons in case the bandits sent scouts ahead. For Kel, who already wore her chain mail beneath her clothes it simply meant removing her Goldenlake tunic. Her clothes beneath the tunic were dirty enough to pass for even the poorest of farmers'. She un-tucked her shirt to hide the daggers on her belt and concealed both of her swords beneath a saddle blanket on Prince.
They passed around beef jerky and ate stale flatbread for a late lunch and Flyn came around assigning them positions. Kel hung back patiently; he reached her last.
'You'll be stationed as an extra man, woman, for Balim's squad. You're on the perimeter, don't break ranks –we can't let any one of these monsters to escape.'
Kel nodded curtly; she knew to stick to her position.
The next couple of hours was a tense waiting game, Kel stationed just on the outskirts of the village where the trees of the forest were still thin. She lay at the bottom of a large spruce, feeling slightly uneasy with the forest at her back. Her swords lay flat on the ground, invisible to all but Kel. She peered furtively around, unable to see any of the other men, even though she knew that they must be there, hiding, waiting.
Prince and the other horses had been hidden out of sight and Kel was disappointed that she would be unable to ride him into battle. Just then, Kel thought she heard a fragment of commotion on the wind, or had she imagined it? Several tense seconds followed in which Kel could only here the gentle swishing of the trees and the peeping of a bird high above. There it was again; the sound of a horn riding on the distant wind.
'That's one of ours lads,' Flyndan's voice rang out across the still forest, 'get ready but keep low until you've got a visual.'
In the minutes that followed the sound of the chase intensified until the first of the centaurs broke into the centre of Stonescross.
'Positions,' roared Flyn in a voice that Kel could only envy.
Kel scrambled to her feet and sheathed her second sword, Courage weighted firmly in her hand. She settled her helm on her head and planted her feet on the ground, ready to fight.
When the other half of the King's Own came into view, followed by Rider groups all yelling their battle cries, a great clamour arose in the village. Although the trained soldiers all had positions, battle always looked messy, as the panicking bandits and Immortals desperately sought an escape.
At a signal from Balim, Kel advanced forward in line with the rest of the Squad, slowly tightening the net.
In the centre of the town archers shot after retreating Hurroks, protected by a ring of armoured men. The Hurroks that had stayed to fight were being tackled by groups of soldiers; too dangerous to be taken on single-handedly.
The centaurs had banded together, shooting with deadly accuracy at the advancing wave of blue and silver. Fortunately, from what Kel could see, Company mages were shielding against the rain of arrows.
Out of nowhere three fur-clad bandits raced towards the centre of the line, spotting Kel's small stature as a weak link.
As the men on either side of her moved in to assist Kel heard a cry; 'Kel,' she looked up, distracted momentarily to see Dom hurtling towards her. Not having time to shout to him to stop being an idiot, Kel brought her sword up and focused on the attacker.
In a clean sweep she gutted the first man, sliding Courage past his axe as though it simply wasn't there. He gave a gurgling croak of terror and fell forward. As Kel crossed blade with the second man, a soldier to Kel's right dispatched the third man. By this time Dom had reached their area and hacked the man in the back of the legs. Bleeding and crying out in agony the bandit dropped.
Relief was spread across Dom's face, and anger fuelled by adrenalin surged through Kel's mind. Defiantly she drew her sword swiftly across the fallen man's throat, ending his life quickly.
Surprise flickered in Dom's eyes.
'What were you thinking?' Kel said, having to shout to be heard above the clamour.
'I-'
'Stunts like that could get us both killed,' she ranted.
'Kel there were three of them,' Dom pointed out.
'And Balim's squad are backing me up. I don't need you to watch from the other side of the battle field and charge across at any sign of danger. You'll get yourself killed! I know how to fight, Dom.'
'Evidently,' he said coolly, looking down at the two dead bandits. Dom turned back to the fight without another word. As he left, Kel felt her anger drain away and she regretted speaking so rashly. He needed to be told, but screaming at him on a battlefield had perhaps not been the best place for such a discussion.
A Hurrok landing distracted the six men or so to Kel's left and she stepped sideways; not to help, for there were already enough to hunt one Hurrok, but to cover the gap left behind.
It was just her luck that a centaur chose the distraction of the Hurrok to make a break for freedom. He was galloping at full speed right down the gap that Kel was trying to fill. Knowing that she'd simply get trampled if she stood in the way Kel unsheathed a knife, and praying that it would work, tossed it with all her strength at the stampeding centaur.
It let out a bellow of anger as the metal blade sank into the delicate flesh of its abdomen. Grasping the hilt savagely it wrenched the knife out and wheeled around to face Kel. It held a spiked cudgel in one hand and a shield in the other.
Kel's heart thumped madly. She had no experience in fighting Immortals. Lunging forward, she brought Courage down to slam firmly into the shield. She twisted the blade sideways using a double handed grip to get the strength needed to reverse the direction of the blade at speed.
The move surprised the centaur and thick blood welled in a line across its hairy forearm. Kel had to block the heavy return blow quickly, and then dance out of the way as the shield came slamming sideways.
They continued to exchange blows, Centaur outmatching girl in strength and girl outmatching Centaur in speed. Eventually, in what was a blur of Scanran swordplay Kel's blade slide up underneath the cudgel and sank deep into the centaur's belly. Hot acrid blood spattered onto Kel, who felt a surge of triumph. Even as she did so a force slammed her backwards so that she landed heavily on her back, winded. Pain exploded in the top of her thigh and unable to breath, Kel rolled over, clenching her hands.
Fortunately in those pain-addled moments some distant part of her brain remembered her training and she clambered to her feet, weight solely on one leg, sword still gripped firmly in her hand.
The Centaur's kick seemed to have been its dying blow as it had dropped to it's four knees, hands trying to hold in the entrails that sought to escape from the gash across it's front. Unable to trust her leg enough to move across to the dying Immortal and finish it's life quickly, Kel watched for over a minute as the creature was dragged slowly from life.
Kel glanced around and saw that the men to her left had subdued the Hurrok successfully and that in the town the battle was winding to a close.
She tried to place some weight on her left leg and exhaled sharply, coughing out a Scanran swear word. Kel simply stood and waited for the dull throbbing to ease, praying that there were no more Immortals seeking to escape.
Some minutes later Kel made it over to a tree, using the trunk as a support; she was determined not to be found injured on the ground, not in her first fight with the Own.
When Balim's squad was called in, Kel hobbled awkwardly forward, hating the pain that spiralled through her thigh with every step.
In the town centre Kel was handed a water gourd which she drained eagerly. Everyone seemed to be busy, with jobs to do, but Kel found a crate outside the Inn and perched there, trying to slow her breathing and ignore the pain. 'You've become soft in Tortall,' she chided herself mentally. 'You can cope with a bruised leg.'
Time slid past, men all hurrying past to clean up the battle field and set up a proper camp; for the first time in almost two weeks they would have a proper rest before riding on.
'Kel,' Raoul's voice was relieved. 'Balim told me that you took down two men,' he sounded pleased.
'And a centaur,' said Kel tiredly.
Raoul grinned, 'I think we got all the bastards, and we didn't lose a single man. Fuller is in a bad way, but the healer's reckon he'll make it.'
Kel stood up and winced as her bad leg gave way.
'Are you hurt?' Concern filled his voice.
'The centaur kicked me,' admitted Kel embarrassed, 'it's nothing, just a bruise.'
Raoul was having none of it. 'We'll get you over to the healer's tent, my dear Squire, and Emmet Fenreigh will tell you if it's nothing or not.'
The healer's tent had already been erected and it was divided into small curtained cubicles, each with a pallet laid on the floor.
Feeling foolish for bothering the healers, Kel removed her helmet, breastplate and wrist guards, unstrapping her sword from her belt.
Raoul moved around the tent, waving cheerfully at men who were having cuts seen to, some already settled in their pallets with bandages visible around various limbs or torsos.
The healer, a man who looked to be about the same age as Dom, stopped to speak to Raoul. Kel couldn't hear what he was saying but Raoul pointed over to her pallet and the meaning was clear enough.
The healer, Emmet of Fenreigh clear presumed, stepped into the area and drew the curtains shut behind him. 'My lord says you were kicked?'
Kel nodded awkwardly, gesturing to her thigh.
'Um…you'll need to remove your mail and breeches,' said the young man. If he felt embarrassed, it was nothing compared to how Kel felt as she gingerly stripped off her mail and sweaty breaches until she was clad in only her shirt and loincloth.
Sitting down on the bed, her back propped against the tent wall, Kel looked down and the ugly purple hoof print that was spread nastily across the top of her thigh.
Blushing furiously the young healer laid a cool hand on Kel's throbbing leg and sent out tendrils of his magic.
Kel felt a blessed cool envelop her tender flesh and relaxed as the pain was drawn away. After a couple of minutes, Emmet opened his eyes once again and withdrew his hand.
'There was no break to the bone, just a very nasty, deep muscle bruise and some bleeding next to the bone. It'll be tender for a few days but you'll be able to walk and ride and so on.'
'Thank you,' said Kel, overcome with a tiredness that suppressed her embarrassment. She reached for her breeches and struggled back into them.
'You ought to have a rest straight after a healing,' Instructed Emmet, helping Kel slide under the blankets.
She fell into a deep and dreamless sleep, her body weak from the healing.
Okay, so there's the other half of the last chapter! I'm afraid that's going to be the last update until I've finished my exams (June 18th!!) because I simply cannot spare anymore time from revision…Sorry :( However, over the summer there should be lots of updates :D It'll definitely be finished by September! Yay!
A big thank you to citrusfruit who spell-checked what my weary, overloaded brain could not! (Even if I suspect her motives were to avoid physics revision..hrmm? haha.)
Confusedknight xxx