DREAMWIELDER Book 1 of The Dreamwielder Chronicles

Chapter 31: THE MARCH TO COL SARGOTH

King Casstian looked at the fray before him and commanded his reserve troops forward. The Sargothian cavalrymen from the Lepig garrison had cut deeply into the ranks of the initial Pyrthinian force, but Casstian's small army vastly outnumbered the Sargothians, even if his army was hastily assembled. Upon Taera's arrival in Kylep and after hearing her news, Casstian had made haste toward Lepig with his advanced troops to take the city. If the rumor of Guderian's war machines was true, Casstian knew his only hope was to bottleneck the machines in the confines of the high road where it passed through Forrest Weorcan and that meant securing Lepig and Weordan first. All was going as planned so far.

The reserve troops surged forward onto the plains surrounding Lepig and swept over the Sargothian cavalrymen. A few small pockets of resistance persisted, but the fighting was all but over. Satisfied, Casstian turned his horse about to face his High Constables. Taera was there with them, sitting on her horse still clad in the savage furs of the northmen. He had tried convincing her to stay back in Kylep, but she insisted on coming, and he didn't have the heart to keep her confined there by force.

"It is done," Casstian told his constables. "Let's form the men back up into ranks before we march into the city. I want everything orderly and clean. No looting, no drinking, nothing. First order of business is to secure the garrison and round up any other Sargothian soldiers. Once that's done, post the bulletins and send out criers to announce a curfew and our purpose. We are here to free these people, not enslave them. Put down any disobedience quickly and quietly. Otherwise, the people may go about their normal business. Send out our field marshals to recruit whoever is willing into the general infantry. Is there anything I'm forgetting?"

"What of me and my men?" Leone asked.

"Your work here is done," Casstian said. "Sneak your men past Weordan into the forest. Do what you can to block the high road. Fall trees across it, dig holes, do whatever seems most feasible to stall those wagons from reaching us. Our main troops are ten days out still, even under a forced march."

Leone was listening, but his attention was focused beyond Casstian. "Your Majesty," he said suddenly. "Behind you."

Casstian turned to see four Sargothian cavalrymen rushing up the hill toward them. They had somehow fought through the Pyrthinian forces and broken free.

"Form around me," Casstian yelled, drawing his sword. "Taera, stay here."

The constables drew their weapons and formed up around Casstian. When he saw they were all ready, he called the charge and they spurred their horses forward. They were six against four and at the last moment one of the Sargothian's reigned in short and veered away. Casstian thought little of it, thinking the man merely a coward, and the three remaining cavalrymen were pummeled from their horses in the initial onslaught. The fourth cavalryman, however, did not flee; he merely skirted Casstian and his men and charged straight for Taera.

Taera realized what was happening immediately and pulled her skinning knife from her belt. A twinge of fear ran down her spine, but instead of letting it paralyze her she took a deep breath and let the fear fuel her anger. Damned coward, she cursed the soldier charging toward her. Go after the one girl on the field, will you? Taera squeezed her legs and gave a little chirp to urge her horse forward, then kicked him in the flanks to meet the charge full-on. She let loose a yell from deep within her gut.

Casstian turned to see what was happening at the last moment and screamed, but Taera did not hear him. The cavalryman's flail swept out toward Taera's head, but she ducked beneath it and swiped at the man with her knife. The collision nearly broke her arm the force was so great, and she was knocked clean from her saddle to land on the ground with a thump. She pushed herself up with a groan, ready to fight even though there was no air in her lungs and she had lost her knife. The cavalryman had been unhorsed as well, she saw, and he was still down, her knife stuck into his belly. He flopped and convulsed on the ground like a fish, trying unsuccessfully to grasp the bloody handle of the knife and pull it free.