Fury of the Crown Page 2

  She turned south, leaving the enemy horsemen to Sir Heward, and led the Guard Cavalry in a wide arc around a small group of nearby trees. As soon as they cleared the woods, she saw a group of armoured horsemen threatening her father's flank. The infantry had managed to get into some semblance of a circle, but their defensive formation was being put to the test as the Norlanders engulfed them.

  She looked around, making sure her men had kept up, but she needn't have bothered. With their Mercerian Chargers, they were more than capable of maintaining their tight ranks at the gallop.

  Sir Heward's men drove deep into the enemy cavalry. With their light armour, the Norlanders were little match for the heavily armoured horsemen of the Mercerian army. The strength of light horsemen was their ability to outmanoeuvre their foes, but here, packed in tightly as they were, there was no way for them to take advantage of their mobility.

  The knight swung his axe, taking off a man's arm just below the shoulder. He urged on his mount, concentrating on his next target. A slender blade scraped along his arm, but his metal armour easily deflected the blow.

  He kept advancing, pushing aside the lighter mounts of the enemy. A flicker of movement to his left captured his attention, and he raised his shield just in time to catch another sword. Heward twisted in his saddle, bringing his axe down in an overhead strike. It snapped the blade and dug into the man's saddle, narrowly missing a leg.

  The enemy horsemen grinned, thinking he had avoided his fate, but the axe had penetrated the saddle, and his horse reared up in pain. For a moment, the man struggled to maintain his balance, but then he was tossed from his seat, landing in amongst the hooves of the general melee.

  Sir Heward felt his horse drive a shoe into the man's chest, a cry of pain cut off short as his ribcage collapsed. The knight moved his charger farther into the melee, ignoring the scene of destruction beneath his mount's hooves.

  Sir Preston spotted the danger to the south and immediately reacted, taking his horsemen out into the swirling mass of Norland cavalry. They cut deeply into the enemy force, driving them back with the unexpected counter-attack.

  Swords rose and fell, wreaking havoc amongst them, and then the notes called out, sounding the retreat. The knight watched with pride as the Mercerians withdrew to the safety of the circle, and then the footmen resumed their positions, closing the gap.

  He removed his helmet, the better to take in his surroundings. Norland horsemen were swirling around the defenders now, struggling to make any progress against the tight formation. Only to the east was there any problem. There, the Norland footmen had closed to engage in a fierce hand to hand action. The fighting was intense, but the Dwarves had held, refusing to take even a single step from their opening position. To his right, he could see the southern portion of the circle coming under heavy attack. Enemy spearmen were advancing, threatening to create an opening through which the heavier horsemen could charge.

  Sir Preston thought to take his men there to reinforce the line, but then he spotted Aldwin. The smith was standing with the Mercerian foot, urging them to hold their position, a mace held tightly in his fist. The knight surveyed the rest of the battlefield, secure in the knowledge at least one part of the circle was safe.

  Tog took another step, swinging his club with the strength that only a Troll could bring to bear. It struck a rider, collapsing his chest and sending the man flying from the saddle. The horse reared up in a panic, then galloped off, eager to be free of the carnage.

  All around him, his Troll comrades advanced as he struck again, knocking aside a desperate attempt to parry. He prepared for another swing, but before him stood a bewildered warrior wearing the red and green livery of Merceria. Tog swivelled his gaze left and right, finally realizing they had reached the beleaguered defenders. Baron Fitzwilliam was nearby, beneath the banner of Merceria, and the great Troll walked up to him, his head towering over the mounted general.

  "We have come," he said.

  "So I see," said Fitz, "and welcome it is, too. You've arrived in the proverbial nick of time."

  "Where do you want us?"

  The baron pointed. "Over there. We're in danger of the line breaking, and if that happens, they'll be all over us."

  Tog nodded, then turned westward, lumbering back into the fray.

  Turning her force eastward, Beverly could make out the battle, but her view of the Mercerian defenders was completely blocked by a swirling mass of armoured cavalry. She slowed, waiting for her men to form line, then gave the signal. With a sweep of her hammer, they began the advance, slowly at first, and then picking up speed as they drew closer.

  The enemy, intent on the defender's destruction, didn't see them approach until it was too late. Only a few turned, shouting out in alarm, but the sound of battle drowned out their voices.

  The Guard Cavalry struck the line like a giant wave, pushing aside the enemy to leave a bloody smear in its wake. Norland horses galloped off, their riders no longer mounted, as all opposition began melting away.

  Beverly swung Nature's Fury left and right, clearing a path towards her father's forces. Lightning, who towered over Norland's smaller horses, gave her the advantage of height, which she used to the best of her ability.

  After she struck down yet another warrior, caving in his helmet, she spotted Sir Preston off in the distance, leading his own men out from the defensive circle. Closer they drew until no Norlanders were left between them. Beverly nodded in greeting.

  * * *

  Sir Preston lifted his visor, the better to be heard above the din of battle.

  "It is a victory," he proclaimed.

  Beverly cast her eyes around, watching as the fighting began to die down. The Guard Cavalry, disciplined as they were, resisted the urge to pursue, looking instead to their leader. Removing her helmet, she took a deep breath of fresh air. There would be no pursuit today, not from her men, at least; that was the job of the Kurathians.

  Sir Preston, noticing her eyes searching the battlefield, smiled.

  "He's over there," he said, pointing. "Don't worry, he's fine." He saw the look of relief flood her face.

  "How was he?" she asked.

  "He did quite well for himself. He steadied the line when it looked like they might crumble."

  Beverly wore a surprised look. "He did?"

  "Yes. Why? Does that surprise you?"

  "My husband is a master smith. I never thought him to be a warrior."

  Sir Preston laughed. "I expect he's following in the family's footsteps. After all, he's a Fitzwilliam now."

  She grinned. "So he is, and full of surprises, apparently."

  "Have you orders for me, Commander?"

  Beverly looked around at the battlefield. The Mercerians still held their ground, but the enemy was fleeing in every imaginable direction. "We'll let Commander Lanaka and his Kurathian horse take care of those who are fleeing. In the meantime, take your men and see what horses you can round up. There's no use in letting them go to waste."

  Sir Preston followed her gaze. "I daresay if we manage to gather even half of them, we'll have doubled our mounts. It'll be a good day for our new troops."

  "It will," she agreed. "And tell your men they've done exceptionally well today, Sir Preston. Their hard work has paid off."

  "I could say the same for you."

  "I'll let you get on with it, then. I must find the marshal and give my report."

  Sir Preston turned south, ready to ride off when an arrow sailed out of nowhere and struck his visor, narrowly missing his face. He instinctively leaned back, but the sound caused him to flinch.

  Beverly turned, seeking out the archer responsible. A Norland rider, bow in hand, was notching another arrow. She turned Lightning, urging him into a gallop, but before she could go more than a horse's length, an arrow took the man beneath the armpit, and he fell, his bow dropping to the ground beside him. She soon saw the source of the arrow.

  "Good shot, Hayley."

  "Thank you, Bev," the ranger replied. "I would have let you have him, but I didn't think you'd make it in time."

  "I shan't take offence," replied the knight. She looked at Sir Preston. "Are you all right?"

  "Yes," he replied, "merely startled. That was a mighty close call."

  "So it was," said Beverly. "You might want to keep your visor down next time."

  "This coming from the woman who removed her helmet?"

  She grinned. "Good point. I suppose we'd best chalk it up to happenstance."

  Hayley nocked her bow, keeping it at the ready as Gorlag searched through the dead and wounded. Survivors would be disarmed, and then then the Life Mages could begin the arduous task of healing.

  "I'll be reporting to Gerald," said Beverly. "Anything you need to pass on?"

  The High Ranger thought a moment. "No, I don't think so. Things went pretty much as expected, though I imagine we weren't anticipating these additional horsemen."

  Beverly looked at one of the fallen riders. "No, we weren't," she agreed. "They must have received reinforcements over the winter. You're senior to Sir Preston, so you take over command of this section of the line, and let him sort out the situation with all these loose horses."

  "Will do," said Hayley. "Anything else?"

  "Yes, I expect the queen will want you at dinner tonight."

  "In Eastwood?"

  "No, there's a Royal Estate nearby. I'll send you directions when I get a chance."

  "I'll be there," Hayley promised.

  * * *

  Halting his horse, Gerald dismounted and then passed the reins to an aide. He stretched his back, letting out a grunt as he straightened. "I'm getting too old for this."

  Anna laughed. "No, you're not."

  "All right, I'm not," he hastily added, "but it's been a long day." Hearing a heavy footfall, he turned to see Tempus bounding towards him. The great hound halted, wagging his tail enthusiastically.

  "Someone's happy to see you," said the queen. "Come, sit for a moment. There are plenty of others to see to things."

  "I wish I could, but there's still the matter of the city to take care of."

  "Already done." She smiled. "I just sent Sir Heward to talk to them."

  "And if they put up a fight?"

  "I doubt they will. The Norlanders look like they threw everything they had at us. I imagine there aren't any soldiers left in Eastwood."

  "They might have left a garrison," Gerald warned.

  "True, but the city has no walls. If there was a garrison, I'd expect it to be halfway to the border by now."

  "I doubt the Orcs will let them go in peace."

  "Yes. Between them and Lanaka's forces, I doubt many will get through."

  "Still," said Gerald, "we should let a few make it. They can take back word of their defeat."

  "A splendid idea."

  "What about us? Are we to pursue?"

  "No," said Anna. "Not immediately, at any rate. We still haven't finalized our plans to invade Norland, and I might remind you we have to coordinate things with Weldwyn. They are our allies after all."

  "True enough. I suppose that means we'll be returning to Wincaster?"

  She smiled. "It does. I want to send the bulk of the army to the border to keep an eye on things. Who do you want to command it?"

  "I'd say Fitz, but I have a feeling we'll need him when we meet with King Leofric."

  "Who's your second pick?"

  "I know we can't send Beverly, so I'll send Heward. He has experience on the frontier. You know it really would be easier if we had more Knights of the Hound."

  "Agreed," said Anna. "Do you have any suggestions of who we might induct into the order?"

  "No, I've been too busy to consider it. In any event, it's your order of knighthood, not mine."

  She laughed, bringing a smile to his lips. "So that's how it's going to be, is it? Very well, I promise to give it some thought."

  Tempus barked, his tail wagging again, this time at an approaching rider.

  "Beverly," called out Anna as she watched her approach. "Glad to see you made it through unscathed. I hear your new heavy cavalry acquitted themselves well today."

  "They did, Your Majesty," replied the red-headed knight. "Particularly those under Sir Preston's command."

  "It seems we no longer have need of knights," said Gerald.

  "Not for cavalry," said Anna, "but they make good leaders, particularly the well-trained ones. How were the casualties?"

  "Heavy amongst the enemy."

  "And our own troops?"

  "I'm afraid my father's men took quite a beating. Revi and Aubrey are looking after them now, with help from Kraloch."

  "I don't envy them the job," said Gerald. "They'll be at it for most of the afternoon and well into the evening."

  "Keep an eye on them, Beverly. I don't want our Life Mages exhausting themselves."

  "The problem is the weather," replied the knight. "It looks like rain is moving in, and we can't have the wounded lying around outside. They'll get soaked."

  "All the more reason to get into Eastwood," said Gerald.

  Anna placed her hand under her chin, unconsciously mimicking one of his expressions. "We'll move them into the Royal Estate. It's nearby."

  "I thought you were hosting a victory celebration?" said Beverly.

  "It can wait," said the queen. "Their recovery is more important. Oh, and see if you can find Arnim. He should be back with the baggage train."

  "What's he doing there?" asked the knight.

  "Fuming, probably," suggested Gerald.

  "He and Nikki were in Eastwood," Anna explained, "spreading false information. I'm afraid they didn't get out fast enough to include them in the battle plan, so they've been guarding the supplies."

  "I can't imagine he liked that," said Beverly.

  "You'd be surprised," said Anna. "Now that he's a father, he's a lot more amenable to such things."

  Gerald looked at her in surprise. "Are you trying to tell me Arnim's gone soft?"

  "If by going soft, you mean he's concerned about the welfare of the twins, then yes, I suppose I am."

  "Never thought I'd see the day," he muttered.

  "What was that?"

  "I said that's quite the display… of loyalty, I mean."

  Beverly noted the smirk on Gerald's face. "No meal, then?"

  "We'll sort something out," said Anna, "so make sure that husband of yours is presentable. I trust he is well?"

  "He is," said Beverly, "as is your own husband. I saw him on the way over here."

  "Good, then dinner is still on, though what we'll be eating and where, I have no idea."

  Two

  Dinner

  Spring 965 MC

  Gerald leaned his back against the wall. They were out the front of the Royal Estate, beneath the covered archway that served as its entrance. Gazing towards the edge of the woods, he noted the downpour. "It's cold," he said, "and wet."

  "That's pretty obvious, isn't it?" said Anna. She took a seat on the flagstones, setting down her goblet. Beside her loomed Tempus, stretched out and acting as the back of a chair while around her sat most of her friends, each seeking what comfort they could while Sophie passed out drinks.

  "The food will be along shortly," the maid added.

  "There's no hurry," said Gerald. "It's not like we're going anywhere."

  She passed a tankard to Sir Preston, and as he took it, their hands brushed each other.

  Anna noted the looks on their faces and turned to Gerald, smiling. The marshal grinned back.

  "You know," the queen said, "I think it's time we gave our gallant knight a more permanent command, don't you?"

  "I should think so," he replied. "What did you have in mind?"

  "How about Captain of the Heavy Cavalry?"

  "Surely Sir Heward is more deserving," offered Sir Preston.

  "Perhaps, but we have other things in mind for him," said Anna.

  "Oh?" said Beverly. "Care to share that information?"

  "I'll leave that to the marshal. After all, it's army business. Gerald?"

  Gerald straightened himself. "Yes, I've decided to promote him to Commander. His experience in the north has proven him more than capable of operating in that capacity."

  "And well he deserves it," added Beverly.

  "Indeed he does," said Anna. "And we'll be needing more commanders when we push into Norland."

  "So we're finally going to strike back?"

  "We have little choice. We can't just sit back and relax after their invasion of Merceria."

  Everyone went quiet, their concentration on their young queen. They had all known it was coming, but the details had been scant. Doubtless she had discussed it with Gerald, but not a word had leaked out.

  "Well?" prompted Beverly. "Are you going to tell us or not?"

  Anna wore a grin. "Not just yet, no. The plan is to return to Wincaster, then recall to Summersgate to discuss strategy with King Leofric."

  "Yes," agreed Gerald, "he may have other ideas on how to proceed. In any event, we'll come to some sort of agreement to coordinate our actions. Once that's done, we'll return and start putting things into place."

  The door opened, and Baron Fitzwilliam came outside, Albreda clutching his arm.

  "Sorry," he said as everyone looked at him. "Did I interrupt something?"

  "We were just discussing plans," said Gerald.

  "Oh? What did I miss?"

  "The queen is going to Weldwyn to confer with King Leofric," offered Beverly.

  "Is she now," said the baron. "Good for her."

  "I was hoping you'd accompany us," said Anna. "And we'll need Albreda to help take us there, of course."

  "I should be delighted."