Leslie Moore - Griffin's Destiny

Sateyuka was a handsome woman, with clear, intelligent eyes and the no-nonsense demeanor of someone used to giving orders. Ashinji knew right away his decision had been a sound one. “I’ve come to ask a very great favor of you,” he said quietly. “I’ve no time to explain. I must leave Sendai immediately and I need someone trustworthy to care for my daughter.”

“What has happened to Jelena, my lord?” Sateyuka asked.

Ashinji sensed the strength of the hikui woman’s Talent, but felt only mild surprise. She was doing an excellent job of shielding her thoughts but she could not hide her emotions quite so well; Ashinji felt her alarm like a burst of heat on his skin.

“It’s too complicated. Please Sateyuka. Time is running out. Will you shelter my child?”

On impulse, Ashinji mindspoke.

You are Jelena’s dear friend. She trusted…trusts you, so I will, too. We both need you to do this for us. I promise, when I return, everything will be explained to you.

Sateyuka’s face blanched. She stared hard at Ashinji for a few heartbeats, then gazed at Hatora, still calmly sucking her fist as Eikko bounced her in her arms.

Yes, Captain, of course I’ll look after your daughter! After all, I was there when she took her first breath. I love Hatora because she’s Jelena’s.

“You are the first okui who has ever mindspoken to me,” Sateyuka added aloud. She reached out to stroke the baby’s cheek. “I’ll keep her for as long as you need me to.”

“What about me?” Eikko asked in a tiny voice. “Am I to stay here as well?”

“The mistress will need your help with my daughter,” Ashinji replied.

Sateyuka cocked her head. “You look strong and capable, girl. I think I can find something for you to do in my shop when little Hatora doesn’t need you. Can you read?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Eikko replied, then added, “I can do figures also.”

“Sateyuka, I really must go.” Ashinji swung Hatora from Eikko’s arms and held her close. “I’ve a very long ride ahead of me.” The baby squirmed as he kissed her cheeks and forehead. He knew her thoughts, even though her mind could not yet form words to articulate them.

She knows I’m leaving her and that I have no idea when I’ll return.

Hatora’s face crumpled and she let out a wail.

“Please, baby,” Ashinji whispered, unable to hold back his own tears. “Don’t cry!” For a while, he could do nothing but weep, and when at last he felt strong enough, he handed his still bawling child over to Sateyuka and departed.

With Hatora’s cries ringing in his ears and her mental anguish piercing him like a flight of arrows, he flung himself onto his horse and took off into the night.

Sen Sakehera peered through his spyglass, humming tunelessly to himself. He swept the glass from left to right, scanning the valley below. Off in the distance, nearly lost in bluish haze, the twin towers of Tono Castle stabbed defiantly skyward. The big bay stallion beneath him snorted and stamped at the rocky ground, tail thrashing with impatience.

Prince Raidan maneuvered his own mount alongside that of his co-general. The two stallions glared at each other, ears flattened.

“By the One, I think we’ve beaten ’em,” Sen announced. “The valley looks quiet and Odata’s colors still fly over the castle.” He lowered the spyglass and closed it with a snap.

“I’m expecting a scout in shortly,” Raidan responded. “We’ll know more then.” The two men sat their horses atop a ridge overlooking the broad expanse of the valley; below, grasslands rolled away in a series of gentle folds to merge with the rich farmland of the valley floor. Behind them massed the combined elven forces, some twenty thousand strong, consisting of the professional army at its core, augmented by the levies of Alasiri’s great lords.

The elves would face a human army estimated at between forty and fifty thousand professional, well-seasoned troops. Though not quite as outnumbered as they had feared, nevertheless, both elven generals knew their only chance for survival lay with superior tactics and magic.

Raidan gazed toward a dark smudge in the distance, almost directly opposite their current position-the high ridgeline pierced by the Tono Pass. The pass provided the only way for the Soldaran army to gain entry into the valley from the south; it was the key to the elves’ entire defensive strategy.

“I pray there’s been no more plague,” Sen muttered. He twisted in his saddle, first one way and then the other. “Where is that son of mine?” he grumbled. “I need him.”

“If we push, we can make the castle before nightfall,” Raidan said.

Sen scratched his chin and scowled. “Let’s hope that scout gets here soon,” he said. “We need to know how much time we’ve got. I’ll see you at the castle.” He wheeled his mount away from Raidan’s, then trotted off along the ridge toward where his Kerala troops waited.

Raidan raised his hand and his own aides, who had been hanging back at a discreet distance, now urged their mounts forward. “Give the order to march,” he commanded and they dispersed to their duties. The prince did not move off right away, but stayed awhile longer on the ridge, pondering the enormity of the task at hand.

The elves had devised a deceptively simple defense plan. The valley was shaped like a wineskin; at its narrowest point, the pass acted like a spout. That spout would be defended by a small elite force, which would serve to delay the Soldarans, and at the same time, trick them into believing they faced sparse resistance.

At a specified time, the elves would turn and flee toward the castle. Emboldened by the apparent weakness of their opposition, the humans would rush into the narrow neck of the valley.

Unbeknownst to the Soldarans, the bulk of the elven army, along with most of the mages, would be positioned behind the rocky ridgelines above the valley floor. They would sweep down in a pincer movement, catching the humans by surprise and surrounding them before they realized their mistake. As the final piece of the trap, the remainder of the elven forces, bolstered by their most powerful mages, would sally forth from the castle to meet the charging Soldarans head on.

In theory, the plan should work.

If only we had about ten thousand more troops , Raidan thought.

“The army is ready to move, my lord Prince!” an aide called out. Raidan waved his hand in acknowledgment, then turned his mount’s head toward the steep path that led down off the ridge into the valley.

“Isn’t this exciting, Little Brother?” Raidu crowed, a savage grin twisting his mouth. “Soon we’ll be real warriors, with the blood of dozens of humans on our blades!”

Raidan frowned, disturbed by his eldest son’s eagerness to kill.

“I’ll be glad when all of this is over,” Kaisik murmured in reply.

The prince had convened a final council in the great hall of Tono Castle. All of his war leaders, along with their senior staffs, were present, as well as the contingent of mages, led by a dour-faced old man whose name Raidan couldn’t remember. A generous meal had been laid out, and for the first hour or so, there had been no talk of the coming fight.

“Look after your brother, Prince Raidu,” Sadaiyo Sakehera spoke up. “I made the mistake of not looking after mine, much to my sorrow.”

Raidan’s eyes narrowed as he studied the Heir of Kerala. He heard no genuine sorrow in the younger Sakehera’s voice; rather, Raidan thought he could detect a subtle smugness in the other man’s tone. If Sen Sakehera noticed, he gave no sign.

When the servants had cleared away the last of the dishes, Raidan raised his hand to gain everyone’s attention. “Our scouts report the Soldarans are less than three days’ march south of the pass,” he began. “That should give us enough time to get our forces into position. Everyone here in this hall knows the gravity of our situation. If we fail to turn back the Soldarans here at Tono, they will charge north to take Sendai and there’d be no stopping them. It would mean the end of Alasiri as a free nation.”