Chris Northern - The Last King's Amulet

I divided my attention between the potential enemy and the next pair of horsemen back down the line. One split off at once, heading for the main body of the army. He didn't know what he was reporting in detail but the army would stop and prepare for anything. The other signaled back down the line and, when sure he had been seen, headed our way as fast as the terrain allowed. At the same time the men who were making toward us hesitated in a disorganized ripple, then responded to an order and came to a halt.

“What do you think?”

“Too early to be sure.” I started scanning the terrain all around as far as I could see, checking for any other threat. Yebratt was doing the same and, like me, also glancing at the armed band to see what they did next.

The sound of a horse pounding up the hill behind us, all powerful breaths and drumming hooves, did not distract either of us from our vigil. In the distance we could hear the march of the army, dull pounding of boots on stone.

After a brief consultation two men broke away from the armed band and began to move our way. They set a medium pace, purposeful but not hurried.

“They mean to talk.”

I shrugged. “If they have the password, all well and good.”

Our man joined us. He took in the situation but said nothing. I could hear more horses coming our way and now an occasional cry as orders began to be passed through the main army. I loosened my sword in its scabbard, making sure it would free cleanly at need, though I intended that we withdraw if the band moved our way. There would be only nineteen of us, assuming all my command had reached me. I resisted the urge to glance back; the rest of the tactical situation wasn't my business right now. Even if there were other units closing in, these hundred men in front of me were what I had to deal with one way or another.

When the next pair joined us I instructed them to hold this position unless threatened and passed control of the whole group to Yebratt. Taking one man with me I went to meet the two soldiers who were making their way forward. A hundred yards has never seemed like such a distance. As they had started moving first we arrived at a position where we were close enough to hail each other at about the mid way mark and here I halted and called out to them to identify themselves.

“Rastrian Bacht, bringing my unit to Tulian Dural Verrans at his order.”

“Give me the password.”

“Raspberries!”

I felt a chill in my stomach. “Say again!”

He raised his voice. “Raspberries!”

We were close, maybe only thirty feet between us. The rest of his band hadn't moved. They looked pretty relaxed. They were not in formation, but spread out and clustered as they saw fit. Quite a few of them weren't even looking our way. I made a decision and acted on it at once, kicking loose of my stirrups, I slid down to the ground and tossed the reins to my companion. “Don't do a damn thing unless I head back at a run.”

Rastrian Bacht was watching me. He knew something was wrong, maybe from the worried look on my companion's face. He stood with his hands ostentatiously away from his weapons and then began to move forward as I did. I watched his face as we closed the distance between us. Puzzled but hiding it, wary but relaxed. By his dress and armor he was not a man of the city. The short sword at his side was curved with the blade on the inside of the curve, a chopping weapon, not the straight blades or sabers we favor. His dark hair was bound back with a leather thong and he wore no helmet and carried no shield. I could see the others were more or less the same, no two identical. They were foreign mercenaries for certain. We stopped walking at a comfortable distance, close enough so that we didn't have to raise our voices.

“That is not the password I have, Rastrian Bacht.”

He didn't look too concerned. “I guessed something was wrong. This is the twelfth, isn't it?”

“I think we can agree on that.”

“So yesterday's password was Thistle.”

I didn't concede the point. “The fact remains that your password is incorrect, so I can't let you pass right now, Rastrian Bacht. Still, I'm guessing there has just been a cock-up here and that you are expected, so let's you and me go down to the main army and you can present yourself to Tulian Verrans; if he knows you, all well and good.”

“There's quite a force gathering at your back.”

“I can see your men starting to pay attention. Best reassure them or this could get ugly.”

He turned at once and called to his men. “Stand easy, lads!” He turned back to me. “Your turn.”

I turned and saw that thirty riders were bunched at the top of the rise, with more arriving even as I watched. I raised my hand and waved them back.

“Coming?”

He grinned. “Surely. But let's each go talk to our men first, eh? Like you said. This could get ugly.”

I agreed. “Embarrassing at the least.”

Without another word we walked away from each other. My back itched all the way back to where my man was waiting with my horse. Rastrian Bacht had a spring steel crossbow on his back. And as soon as I'd seen it I'd looked for others and seen that all of his men carried similar weapons. I was sure that Gatren Teciba Orans had given me the wrong password. I was also sure that he had done so deliberately. Still, I could be wrong. I could get a quarrel in the back any moment. It wasn't a comfortable feeling. My man was watching the crossbowmen intently.

“Relax,” I told him as I swung into the saddle.

“Ours, sir?”

“Pretty sure of it. I'll need your horse in a moment.”

We rode back to the main group, most of which had dropped back out of sight. Yebratt and the rest of my unit were waiting in a single line, ready to react either way. Someone else was with him, one of the commanders whose name I had not caught. I berated myself for that. I should know and I didn't. He sat his mount to one side, observing the crossbowmen but didn't acknowledge me, so for the moment I ignored him.

“Problem?” Yebratt said.

“Wrong password. I'm taking their captain in to meet the commander and sort it out. I think they are ours. But keep an eye. I'll get some of them,” I gestured down slope to the hundred or so cavalry who were now gathered there, “to get out and scout, just in case. You stay put and watch them.” I'd pitched my voice so that the commander could hear what I had in mind, and was watching him as I spoke. He glanced at me and nodded when I was done, informed me that he would take care of the scouts, then turned his mount and rode back down the slope. So, Tulian would know what was going on before I got there. I hoped he approved. I was going to catch shit any way it turned out but worse if I made what he considered an error in the meantime.

I took the spare mount back with me to meet Rastrian Bacht at the mid point, watching his men as I did so. They were pretty much the same as before, but conversation had stopped and they were all looking my way now. He came alone, mounted without a word, and we rode side by side back toward my men.

“You don't carry tower shields,” I commented, making it a question.

“I requested that Tulian Dural Verrans buy enough for my men and bring them with the baggage train. It's a pain to carry them on foot, you understand.” He had used Tul's full name again, making it clear that he knew exactly who he was.

I imagined carrying a tower shield and guessed it would be a pain. “And you traveled cross country because…?”

He grinned at me. “Best route from where we were. Pretty good calculation, eh?”

I thought about it. Actually it was, depending on where they had come from. I would, now I thought about it, have expected them to hit the road either ahead or behind us. I thought about it some more. “You have a sorcerer with you.”