It was an ordinary tavern within one of the villages of Estal. It stood next to the defensive wall which surrounded the settlement. William and Eitrigg ate together, Felix in the shadows silent, eating sparingly.
"William, do you truly believe you can convince the Cyclopi to take our side?" asked Eitrigg. William considered his answer. He'd already given it a lot of thought. I believe I can. That doesn't mean I'll manage it. Father could."
His answer seemed to surprise the priest. "We have been at war with them for years. Why would they choose our side so quickly?"
"The enemy of my enemy is my friend," said William. "That is the most basic kind of alliance, Eitrigg. If their fear of the Calishans exceeds their hatred of us, there is the possibility of an alliance."
"I don't doubt many among them hate and fear us more," noted Eitrigg.
"But they know you," said William. "They are familiar with the people of Estal. They know where they stand. If Calisha takes over this place, they do not know where they will stand. Thus, there is the fear of the unknown. And there is also the fear of power."
"Fear of power?" asked Eitrigg.
"Yes," said William. "Estal is far weaker than Calisha. If an all-out war were to break out between you and the Cyclopi, they would not stand a chance of victory. Yet, if Calisha conquers Estal, the dynamic will change. The Calishans could send one army after another at the Cyclopi until they fell.
"Better to keep the Calishans off the island, to begin with. At least that is what I would do."
"And if we are defeated?" asked Eitrigg.
"If the war goes badly, the Cyclopi can withdraw from the alliance ahead of time," said William. "Negotiate for their independence with Calisha while Baltoth is dominant but not victorious. In doing so, they would ensure Calishan victory and get a more favorable deal.
"After all, the cyclopi aren't the ones who kidnapped a daughter of Baltoth from Ruscow. This war isn't anything personal."
"You think about these things a great deal, don't you?" noted Eitrigg.
"Lady Rusara and Lord Raynald instructed me on many things," said William. "And my father wrote me many letters of advice. War was a principal subject."
"War?" Eitrigg smiled. "Surely this is the peace we're discussing."
"Eitrigg, I'll let you in on a lesson Father taught me," said William. "Most wars are won long before the first blow is struck. Miraculous victories that turn the tide are just that: miraculous. Usually, the one who wins the battles is the one who positioned themselves in a better spot ahead of time."
"I can't believe this training regime!" said a loud voice.
William turned his attention. Two boys his age were sitting across from eachother on a table. He guessed by their bearing that they were nobles. One had short black hair and long sideburns. The other wore his long and brown and was staring into his mug. "You can say it until the mountain falls, Ensor," the brown-haired one said. "It won't change things."
"That Azgora bitch had us training all day with hardly any sleep," said Ensor. "Even in the Feast of the Hearth. It's all well and good to put the commoners through it, but I'm a noble. Someone ought to teach her a penetrating lesson.
"I'd like to do it myself."
William put his hand to his sword. Felix's hand fell on it in a warning. Their eyes met. Felix was telling him not to be reckless.
"I'm not any happier about it than you," said the brown-haired one. "But we are our father's son. If it comes to battle, we'll have to command them. I've learned more these past two weeks than I have in years."
"Who cares about that, Soren?" asked Ensor. "The war always comes down to the knights and the mercenaries. We'll only end up on the field of battle if Father lets us join the fleet. The best we'll get is fighting outlaws and bandits. And the Cyclopi do a pretty good job of that.
"Still, if nothing else, Azgora has a pair of legs worth looking at. And those breasts. I could-"
William broke Felix's grip, drew his sword, and, before he knew what was happening, put it to Ensor's throat. "Before you say another word, remember you are speaking about my mother."
Ensor looked at him, flinching. "I... I was just talking, you know. I didn't mean any harm in it."
"You are speaking to the son of the Lord Asborn, who rules this land," said Soren. He stood and placed a hand to his own sword.
"Sir, I do not care if I am speaking to a Prince of Harlenor Reunited or a god in human form," said William. "No man has a right to speak of a lady in that fashion." Of course, that was somewhat hypocritical. He was guilty of the same fault as Safara. But in his defense, he hadn't been in the best state of mind. In fact, she had probably driven him to it.
"We will speak as we wish in our own lands," said Soren.
Then his blade was out. William clashed swords with him, and they fought back and forth. In a moment, he had driven Soren off his legs. But before he could put the blade to his throat, Ensor had drawn his own weapon and engaged him.
The two brothers went to William with blades. What had William been thinking?
At that moment, Eitrigg stepped between them. "All of you, stop it! This isn't the time or place!"
Soren blinked. "Eitrigg? Why are you standing up for this rascal?"
"There are enemies enough to fight without killing each other, Soren," said Eitrigg. "Now, both of you put your swords away. In a day, William and I will depart, and you need not see each other again."
Reluctantly, they sheathed their weapons. Ensor looked at Eitrigg. "What brings you out here?"
"King Estal wishes us to establish an alliance with the Cyclopi," said Eitrigg.
"Cyclopi?" asked Ensor. "We don't need their sort."
"King Estal is right, Ensor," said Soren. "Every bit helps, and anyway, if I have to choose between an even fight and an easy victory, I choose the latter."
"Personally, I'd rather avoid a fight altogether," said Eitrigg. "But that doesn't seem likely anymore."
"I wish you hadn't sworn off violence," said Soren. "If it does come to war, I'd like to have you by our side."
Eitrigg smiled. "You both learned your sword lessons well enough to do without me, Soren. Innkeeper, bring us another round. William, will you sit with us?"
William said nothing for a moment. Eitrigg looked at him carefully, and Ensor and Soren seemed none too enthusiastic. Still, he supposed it could not hurt to be courteous. "If Ensor apologizes for the way he spoke of my mother, yes."
Ensor looked at him with narrowed eyes. "... I'm sorry," he said finally, voice unapologetic. "I wasn't aware you were related."
"You are forgiven," said William, not feeling it. Even so, the gesture had been made.
So it was that they all sat down. Eitrigg talked with Ensor and Soren of many things. Eitrigg had been something of an idol to both boys—even helping them learn swordplay. It was somewhat like Raynald had been to him.
Yet inevitably, the conversation turned to Safara. William described her arrival in full. Ensor seemed particularly interested in William's description of her. In fact, as soon as Safara was mentioned, there was almost a change in the room. William noticed that several other groups turned their conversation to her.
"Eitrigg is it true that Princess Safara has the lower body of a snake?" asked Ensor.
"It is," said Eitrigg. "Though it doesn't come to mind when you are in her presence."
"What does come to mind?" asked Ensor, looking too eager.
"An unreasonable and unyielding passion," said Eitrigg. "Love, or perhaps blinding lust. She inspires it by her very presence. Love in particular."
"Sounds like a real beauty," said Ensor. He was practically salivating. He was really an animal, wasn't he?
"She is," said Eitrigg. Why did he have that faraway look in his eye?
"Prince Aris really caught a wild one this time," said Ensor. Why did everyone have such a faraway look in their eye?
"This time?" asked William, speaking for the first time.
"Well, he's a Prince," said Ensor. "He may not be married, but he has his entertainments. We all do, really, but he has many of them. I heard once that he took three to his bed. The man has serious endurance."
"Well, he's going to marry her, so I hope he will curb his passions," said William, liking Aris less and less by the moment.
"Maybe he will," said Soren. "He's nearing forty."
"Yeah," said Ensor, "Aris might settle for one of the best instead of half a dozen." He seemed to think he had said something funny. There was dead silence.
Don't cut his head off. Don't cut his head off. "I don't-" began William.
And then there was a strange sound. It was a sort of 'thumps." It resounded through the room and grew louder and louder. William listened keenly.
"What is that noise?" asked Eitrigg. "Are those wings?"
Wings. What kind of wing made that noise? Dragons?
Felix scrambled suddenly to the window and threw it open. He stared out at the sky, and William came behind him. There, flying over the island, were many flights of huge winged rodents. Each one carried a massive basket beneath them. There were men within the baskets. Soon the flights broke off to each fly toward a different settlement.
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"Neseriah!" cried Felix. "The bats of Neseriah are here!"
Felix sounded afraid. And if Felix was showing fear, it meant nothing good. Eitrigg turned to the others. "Ensor, Soren, rally the militia and send word. Man, the walls and get all you're fighting men ready for combat. And someone has to tell your father that the Calishans are invading by air."
At once, they nodded and broke off. Eitrigg commanded a great deal of respect in these parts to be obeyed so quickly. William looked to Felix. "Felix, help me get my armor on. We need to be ready."
As Felix helped William put on his armor, he watched through the window. In the street, he saw men scurrying with spears and shields. Some were donning their armor. Others were carrying arrows to the walls. The ringing of bells was everywhere, and theirs was not the only village.
From that second-story window, William saw the bats fly over the capital of Estal. Arrows were launched at them. Some fell, and when they landed, great fire explosions burst into view above the walls. Fires started in the city. Other bats were not hit, and these had men in the baskets hurl caskets down that exploded with the same force.
A similar scene was happening throughout the villages. The bats that unloaded their lethal cargo swerved away to land beyond sight.
After he finished donning his armor, William put on his helm and rushed out into the street. As he did, he saw the bats coming toward the village. The same caskets were hurled, but Eitrigg clasped his hands in prayer and spoke a word.
William couldn't make the word out, but he felt hope and determination well within his heart. A great sphere appeared around Eitrigg and grew larger and larger. Soon it encompassed the entire town. The caskets hit it and exploded into flame, the sparks going out in moments.
The bats shrieked in anger and wheeled around to fly away. They hadn't dropped as many caskets as the others had. Instead, they were keeping them in reserve. They were clearly intelligent.
William stared at Eitrigg. "How did you do that?"
"A spell I learned from King Andoa," said Eitrigg. "My power pales in comparison to his, of course. But I'll teach it to you later. Now come to the walls. The Calishans will be marching against the town soon." He looked very tired. William was afraid he wouldn't be able to do that again.
He looked to a group of people looking terrified. "You folk, don't just stand around," said Eitrigg. "Form the fire brigade and prepare to put out any flames that the bats cause. Go quickly and prioritize the granary."
"Prioritize?" asked a woman.
"Focus on the granary!" said Eitrigg. "Go! Every moment counts!
William looked at Felix. "Come on."
William suddenly realized what was happening. He was about to fight in his first battle. He knew he should feel eager or scared, but nothing came to him.
He didn't have time for this right now.
He reached the gate and found Ensor yelling commands as the militia assembled into a group by the gate. Soren was standing on the gate with the archers, and with him was a tall, brown-bearded man. When a call came in, he approached Ensor. The archers were launching their missiles.
William ran quickly up the wall and looked out over the fields. There a large force of Calishans had assembled. Several hundred in number, he guessed. They were approaching the gate and had raised shields into a tortoise formation. Arrows bristled from many of the shields as they approached.
He looked to Soren and the man. A soldier approached them. "Lord Asborn, the Calishan formation is too strong for us to break with arrows."
"They are more skilled than most," said Asborn. "No matter. They have no siege equipment. We need only hold them here."
"Lord Asborn," said William.
"Yes?" asked Asborn. "Who are you?"
"I am William Gabriel, the son of Azgora," said William. "I wish to join your warriors in the front."
"Very well," said Asborn. "Every bit helps. You, get this man a spear. Yet who is this Calishan?"
"He is my servant," said William. "I trust him with my life."
"Well, you can get him off my walls," said Asborn. "Your mother has a way with drilling troops, but I don't like any of those Calishans."
"Felix, you'd best head down to the streets," said William as he received a spear. "We don't want trouble." He was not in a position to correct this man's ignorance.
Felix nodded, and they made their way down the steps. There, they found Ensor standing before his men in full armor. "Listen to me, all of you!
"The Calishans are right outside this gate! If they break through, it'll be up to us to stop them! And if we don't stop them, they'll kill every man! Your woman will be their slaves, and your children will be thrown to the wolves! And if any man flees from battle and we are victorious, I'll have him hung, drawn, and quartered as a deserter!
"Do you understand?"
"Yes, milord!" came the reply in unison.
William approached Ensor with his spear. "Permission to join the ranks?"
"Just take a damn position and stop wasting my time, you idiot!" said Ensor quickly.
"Right," said William. It had been a foolish question.
Then they heard the chanting. "Calisha! Calisha! Calisha! Calisha!"
On and on it went, getting louder and louder. And as the chanting continued, more bats dived and dropped caskets. They landed amidst the streets and exploded. The fire brigade was soon put to work.
William quickly took his place in the line. He picked a spot next to Ensor at the right of the line. It seemed only appropriate since he was nobility. As one, they locked their shields and lowered their spears toward the gate. The chanting grew ever nearer.
This was it, William's first battle. He'd seen small skirmishes before. But he'd never faced the real thing, the clash of entire armies. He shifted and licked his lips, trying to quell his anticipation. He should be scared. But it could hardly be worse than anything he'd seen already. And he could win true glory here.
"Calisha! Calisha! Calisha! Calisha!"
And then the gate exploded. The entire wall shuddered as stones were thrown into the air. The shock of it nearly knocked William from his feet. Several other men were thrown and had to be helped up. A single Calishan sorcerer stood there, a blade in hand.
And past him came the assembled ranks of the Calishans. They formed up with astonishing speed. Their shields were raised, and their spears were lowered. They charged forward, and battles were joined.
William caught a spear on his shield and stabbed at the man across from him. His spear glanced off the side of the helm and had to block another stab. William lunged again, and this time, he got the man in the shoulder. His enemy screamed and fell backward, yet he was dragged back. Another took his place.
William saw Ensor put his spear through the eye of a Calishan to his right. To his left, one of his militia fell to the ground, a spear in his gut. The next man in line nearly tripped over him, and he lay screaming on the ground as the battle went on. Stones were cast down from above onto the Calishans. But those in the rear lines had raised their shields to ward off such attacks.
Quicklime might have worked. But there had been no time.
As William fought, he found his mind drifting. How was it that they had broken the gate so easily? Even Rusara would have had trouble destroying a city gate. Unless she had...
Malas.
The very substance on which Father had based his truce was now being used against them.
Suddenly, there was an explosion in the middle of the line. Men were sent flying, and William saw a leg land near him. The formation was scattered and broken. In a moment, the Calishans would charge, and they would be lost!
Then a shield of blue light appeared before the Calishans. It barred their path. They beat on it, trying to force it down. It began to flicker and fade. But it was enough time for Ensor to rally his forces. The formation was recreated. William took the chance to kneel by the injured man he'd seen before and healed him. Then he took his place.
The shield was breaking. But before it could break entirely, its center opened up. The Calishans there pressed forward through the breach ahead of their comrades.
"Charge!" cried Ensor.
The militia surged forward, and the shield wall broke. But too late for the enemy! The Calishans had lost their formation in their haste. Arrows and stones shot down on them, and many fell. Then they were forced backward by the charge.
And yet they were bolstered, for new troops came forward. They were huge and wielded great scimitars. As they marched, their very presence sent a ripple through the lines. The Calishans roared battle-cries and fought like mad. Once again, they changed the name of their nation.
One of the figures came to the front of the line. As he emerged from the shadow of the gatehouse, the line nearly broke. He had the face of a tiger, and his hands were clawed. His armor was as white as snow, with eyes that blazed with gray flame.
"Immortals!" cried one of the men. "Calishan Immortals are here!"
The Immortals sprang forward into the line, leaping over the spears to land among the men. Many fell headless beneath the strikes of their scimitars. William saw one surging toward him and raised his shield. The blow sent him to his knees, but he stabbed upward. He felt his spear pierce something and looked up to see that he had gotten the immortal through the gut.
He nearly lost his head, avoiding the next stroke. His spear was broken, and the immortal came at him. Drawing his sword, William parried. Lashing out with his shield, he bashed the immortal with the edge, and as it fell back, he delivered a blow to its neck. The beast dropped to one knee, spurting blood, and drove its scimitar into his side.
William screamed in agony but brought around his blade for a final swing. It cut the head from the creature. Then he fell to one knee, pulled out the scimitar, and set about healing it. But the wound kept bleeding, and it was knitting very slowly. Some magic within the sword worked against his skills, fighting him for every inch of health. The pain was gone.
Looking around, he saw the battle had devolved from stalemate into a vicious melee. And they were losing. The men on the walls had taken up swords and spears and come to help, but it was only slowing things down. The immortals were everywhere and nowhere, killing at will.
The men of Estal fought on and caused much harm to the enemy. But the enemy was just as desperate. Never in history had an immortal retreated in the face of the enemy. Nor did they suffer their minions to retreat.
The village would fall.
And then Massacre arrived. She leaped through the ruins of the gate, breathing fire into the midsts of the Calishans. Tightly packed as they were, dozens in the back ranks screamed as they were burnt alive. An immortal rushed against her, but she stepped aside from her thrust. Then, her goat head drove its horns into the immortal's stomach. Even as the creature fell, her paws and lion heads savaged him. And all the while fire was poured into the enemy ranks. Dozens of Calishans screamed as flames burned their bodies.
It was the last straw. The immortals were slain, and the men of Calisha fled.
Cheers came from the men as William finished healing himself. But they quickly fell quiet. The field was littered with dying and dead men. Screams and groans from the wounded were everywhere.
The Calishans were escaping. But they could not pursue it, not like this.
William forced himself to stand and began to walk among the wounded. He healed all he could. However, he quickly learned that those struck by immortals took far too much effort to heal. Small cuts resisted his efforts and took immense work to fix. Eventually, he settled on healing ordinary wounds, hoping the others would last. There was no shortage of either.
He also healed the Calishans. While working on them, he saw Ensor raising a spear to stab one of them where he lay.
"Ensor, stop what you are doing!" called Eitrigg, appearing.
"He's a filthy Calishan!" said Ensor.
"He's a prisoner of war," said Eitrigg. "We should take their weapons and bind them."
"Do as he says, Ensor," said Asborn, appearing. "I don't like the Calishans anymore than you. But they may be worth a ransom. We'll need the money to repair the buildings they burned. They nearly got the granary."
"You handle the ordinary wounds, William," said Eitrigg. "I will take those wounded by immortals."
The work took hours. And many died despite their efforts. Even so, William saved many and did not regret his presence. It was a small victory, but still a victory.
Later, as William looked at the face of his last patient, one he hadn't been able to save, he sighed. He heard a conversation from Ensor, who was speaking to Soren. "This was a damn, narrow thing. If that Azgora broad hadn't forced us to drill during the Feast of the Hearth, we'd all be dead."
Fury welled up in him, and he reached for his sword, only to stop. There was no sense in challenging him. Enso might have been deeply unpleasant, but without him, the town might have been ashes.
William looked at one of the blackened structures. Felix and Eitrigg picked their way through the wreckage toward him. It already was ashes, wasn't it?
And then he heard the beating of wings. Looking up, he saw a figure. Yet it was not a bat. It had a bat's wings, though. At first, he thought it was Arraxia. But the claws were smaller, and there was no tail. In their hand was a black staff.
"That is Neseriah," said Felix.
"She's flying directly toward the mountain of the Cyclopi," said Eitrigg. "It seems you are not the only one to have this idea."
Massacre approached and nuzzled William. It might have been comforting, but she was covered in blood and guts. William pulled some torn entrails off her face and scratched behind her ears to calm her. "Massacre, I need you to take Felix and me to the cyclopi at once. If we're not fast, we may be fighting a war on two fronts."
"Bah," said Massacre.
"Yes, I will play music for you," said William.
He and Felix got onto Massacre, and the chimera rushed off. She ran with great strides, covering vast distances with every bound. The figure of Neseriah eventually dove down and disappeared from sight. Higher and higher on the mountain they went. Then Felix tapped him on the should.
"Look there, William," he said, pointing downhill. "The villages are burning."
William did look. And he saw that the battle they had just fought was only one of many. Many Calishan hosts were marching against many villages. Several had already been burned to ash, and from these, the Calishans were marching to aid the others. Yet some communities, such as Asborn's, had held out. These sent their militia to help the others.
All-out war had begun.
Before the night was out, there would be many smaller battles. Victories and defeats. And yet, this was only the beginning, wasn't it?
"I hope Mother is among them," said William. "If anyone can lead them to victory, it is her. Come, we must reach the Cyclopi. Go Massacre! Get us to King Themos!"
Massacre ran with even greater speed. And as she did, William felt a sudden surge of pride. He had fought in his first battle. He had emerged victorious. He had killed a Calishan immortal.
Mother would be proud.