Richard Parker - Elsewhere

“Oil!” The Tarina yelled again to those behind her. She was about to yell again but then she heard pots shattering on the causeway below.

“Whoommphh!” Fire and smoke instantly belched high into the air and the Tarina knew that repeating the order was now unnecessary.

Both Knights in front of her were backing away slowly, avoiding the fight for the moment, but behind them Captain Huntley was being pressed to her limits and needed help quickly. Grace rushed the two in front of her and they panicked. One slashed forward and actually cut through the Tarina’s sleeve with the tip of his right kali before he lost his hand at the wrist. The man screamed, unnerving his fellow Knight who died because of the distraction, a kali through his heart. Grace then killed the wounded Knight and shoved him over the wall and with a quick glance saw another half dozen or so Knights were still on the ladders, climbing up swiftly to get away from the growing fire below. She killed the first, but couldn’t wait for more.

“Keep them off the top of the wall,” she yelled to the pike men, who were quickly repopulating the area then she turned and ran toward Huntley, who was down. She was lying on her back and frantically holding off the blades that were aimed at her prone body with the skill of the desperate. She even managed to slice through the lower leg of one man just as Tarina Grace rushed into the fight. Grace killed another but as she did Cyndar took a long sword through her side. Unfortunately for the Knight the tip of his weapon drove through the waist of the Massi Captain and deep into the wooden rampart and was momentarily stuck. Cyndar cried out and slashed at the hand holding the sword but missed. She did not have time to try again before the Tarina dispatched the unsuspecting man.

“Aaaaaggghhh,” Cyndar cried out, as she instinctively tried to move away from the weapon that impaled her, only dimly aware of the fact that the bitch from Noble was kneeling at her side.

“Be still,” the Tarina ordered as the Captain looked up at her with wild eyes. Grace examined the wound for just a moment. The sword penetrated only about an inch into her side, nasty but probably not lethal. The Tarina stood and quickly pulled the sword free of the planking and out of the injured woman’s side.

Cyndar screamed again and her hands immediately went to the wound.

“The wound is superficial, only through skin and muscle” Grace explained quickly to the Captain. “Get below and see to it,” she added then turned back to face more Knights as they managed to top the wall.

Three had made it successfully and were currently backing away from over a dozen pike men who were advancing like a hedgehog, spear points bristling. Grace leaned over the wall and saw the final causeway burning nicely, of the remaining Knights she saw nothing but suspected they had fallen to arrow fire for there were a number of dead at the base of the wall.

The clang of metal on metal brought her attention back to the fight before her and she killed two of the Knights backing her way before they were even aware of the greater threat coming at them from behind. The pike men dispatched the third with a rush of spear points.

“Huuuurrrraaaahhh!” the yell went up from the men as the last of the Knights fell. The Tarina glanced about but the immediate area was free of any threat. She looked down toward the main gate. The Knights managed to get a ram nearly across the causeway but it and the bridge below were now burning brightly. As far as she could see the gate was not under threat, nor could she see any problems beyond.

Making a quick decision, she bounded down a ladder to the ground and headed back to the section of wall that was engulfed with flames, but by the time she arrived the fire seemed to be contained, however a large section of wall was now in ashes.

“Huuuurrrraaaaahhhh!” She heard the shouts coming from atop the wall.

“What news?” She called loudly to a smiling Sergeant.

“The Knights are retreating from the attack,” he shouted down to her. “We’ve beaten them back.”

The Tarina nodded and continued down the wall inspecting the troops and the fortifications until she neared the spot where she’d initially climbed atop. Up ahead she saw a group of archers huddled close together directly below the ramparts, and when Tarina Grace worked her way through the crowd she saw Samantha lying in a heap, covered in dirt and ash.

X

On Gwaynn’s orders Captain Gaston departed Lynndon with slightly less than three thousand tough and eager cavalry men. He was happy to go…Lynndon was now a place of death and the smell was nearly overwhelming, but the Plateau’s defenses were secure since many of the peasants from the finger decided to stay and see the fight to the end. The population on the border with the Deutzani had grown tired of the constant threat to their country and felt compelled to fight back. Massi it seemed, was growing angry…very angry. There were now well over five thousand men and women camped around Bert’s up on the Plateau.

According to Speaker Sarbeth, Gwaynn and the rest of the Massi army were perhaps fifty miles to the southwest and drifting slowly toward the Scar. They were retreating cautiously before the Palmerrio, not wanting to engage until their cavalry arrived. Gwaynn was mindful of the Scar at his back, though they still had nearly twenty miles of open land in which to operate before being trapped against it. Gaston quickly decided to head straight south first before angling toward the west. The cavalry moved rapidly over the wide landscape, and ate up the miles, eager to join the army once more. The Plateau was ideal for horse warfare. It was flat, open and seemingly endless with few natural obstacles, though the landscape did contain the occasional gully, stream or wash.

Toward late afternoon on the first day out of Lynndon, a lone horseman suddenly appeared, riding fast toward them from the west. There was a bit of scrambling before the horseman was recognized as Patia Hawken, a long range scout. She rode through the ranks at top speed then pulled to a hard stop before Captain Gaston. He couldn’t help but smile at the eager young girl, who was no more than fifteen. She might be young and slight, but she was the fastest damned rider they had and a better than average tracker.

“It’s…it’s…the...Palmerrio cavalry,” she said while trying to catch her breath. Her face was flushed with excitement and from the exertion of riding hard, and her hair was damp with sweat. Gaston noticed she had little beads of perspiration running down the sides of her face leaving trails of clean skin that contrasted greatly with dust covered whole.

“Where?” He asked alarmed but with equal excitement. Patia was still breathing heavily and was gazing at him with her large hazel eyes. Suddenly she smiled.

“Ten miles due west…they’ve stopped for the night,” she said still gasping slightly. “They’ve stopped in a wash, near the center channel…looked to be the trickle of water that brought them in.”

“A wash? How many? How deep is the wash?” Gaston fired at her before she had time to even formulate one answer.

But when he finally had all the information he could glean from her, he smiled, moved his horse forward and grabbed her hand. Patia gazed up into her commander’s eyes and suddenly her heart was pounding all the more fiercely in her chest.

“Well done Patia!” He said and squeezed her hand so hard she felt pain, but she did not pull away. Captain Gaston was her dream. She answered his questions as quickly as she could and felt him squeeze her hand again, this time a bit softer. “Well done,” he repeated then released her and though her hand felt relief, her heart felt only loss. “Get to the rear and grab a fresh horse, rest while you can…I’ll have need of you later.” He smiled at her once more and Patia grinned back like a fool…but at the moment she was a happy fool. She urged her tired mount back along the long line of the Massi formation, happy and exhausted…and suddenly very hungry.