Lions of Men

Chapter 2

Winter, May 1216 A.D. (Four Months into Battle)

The crisp morning air made Rowen Themarian antsy. He vigorously rubbed his bare sinewy arms to keep warm. Dawn brought forth the rising sun, but it did little to abate the chill.

"The sun returneth," he said to his best friend, Gambian Wolden, who sat by a campfire, sharpening his sword.

"Tis Winter, my Prince," the Lieutenant replied. "When we reach Kyros, maybe you can purchase a tunic with sleeves." He glanced at Rowen with a quiet chuckle.

"I should've listened to my father, Gambian. I should have constrained my family to remain in Levanorah."

"What do old men know these days?" the nephew of Commander Balagharus said without looking up. "This war has brought our city to her knees. We've defended her walls like the lions we were trained to be, but the Nords kept coming." He stopped sharpening his blade and looked up at Rowen. "Keeping our wives in Levanorah would've sealed their fate. They would've fallen, either to the plague or a Nordon arrow. You did what was necessary to protect the ones you love.

"And in doing so, I abandoned my father; my people."

"You are only a Prince Rowen; not a king."

"I'm a sworn soldier. I made an oath to protect the people of Levanorah." He shook his head. "Now I'm powerless to protect anyone; the Levanites; my family; our wives."

"At least hither, they have a fighting chance. You've borne witness to what war has done to our people; the brutality we've inflicted upon one another; the thousands that have fallen to the plague, the rich and the poor alike. We had little choice but to make way for their escape. Look upon me, my prince," Gambian said.

Rowen wearily turned and gazed at the brawny young man he knew since childhood, his gray colored eyes peeking through his bushy hair.

"We will find them. We'll bring our wives home. That is our mission. Regret only serves as a distraction. It weakens thy resolve."

But Rowen wasn't listening. Something nagged at him. "How did the Nords come to know I had arranged for my family to go to Kyros?"

Gambian grunted and wiped his sword with a cloth. "I know not; maybe a mole in the city; maybe the clumsy efforts of our men. Perhaps a Nordon scout witnessed the departure. Everyone knows your mother was born in Kyros."

Rowen rose and set his feet east of Levanorah. He gathered his things and called for his men to mount up.

"Whither goest thou, Prince?" Gambian growled. "You promised our men two hour's rest."

"We must make haste."

"It's still half a day's journey hence. These men require rest to fight."

Rowen knew that Gambian was right but ignored him. He ran his hands through his thick black hair and swung the strap of his pack over his broad shoulders. "The longer we tarry, the slimmer our family's chances of survival. Or do you no longer love my sister?"

Gambian looked up at Rowen, jumped up and began packing quickly.

Rowen gazed at the others soldiers as they wearily packed. These men bravely volunteered to follow him against Rashnee's orders. He knew that if they had somehow survived this risky campaign, they'd have to face his father's wrath. He would forever be in their debts, but all Rowen could think about for now was the condition of his pregnant wife, Syrah.

***

Rowen's worst fears were confirmed when he and his men reached the bridge over the Darling River that led to Kyros. From a distance, he saw great billows of smoke rising to the heavens.