Luke overtook Thomas’s party on the climb, as the route steepened for the final drag to the pass. Thomas and his brother walked either side of the older man on the horse.

“Most respectful greetings, Father. I had almost given up hope of seeing you again.”

“Speak for yourself. I thought you said you’d come and visit us. I wish you had. It would have saved us all a lot of trouble.”

“I doubt if I could have done much on my own,” said Luke.

“Well you could at least have kept that brother of yours under control. I’m sorry we brought him into the world.”

“Marcos? What has he done?”

“What hasn’t he done? Ever since you left. In and out of the Hinderith. Only back when he wanted something. And after Ma died, practically never seen him. But he’s drawn enough into the trouble. More to speak of, what have you been doing all these years. I’m tired now but we’ll have a lot to discuss when we reach Gat. I presume that’s where we’re headed. These soldiers of yours haven’t been too forthcoming.”

“They’re not mine. Only the young lad. These are all Hartor’s men.”

“Is he your commander?”

“No, of course not. He’s from Trantrith.”

“Trantrith? No one comes from there. That’s where you tell your children they’ll be sent when they’re naughty. Though your mother’s family came from those parts so maybe.”

“I’m sure you threatened me with the fierce mountain ogre enough times. But you’ll find out. I’m still learning myself.”

There was an immediate debrief when they reached camp. An air of tension informing Luke to expect imminent action.

“I’d say there’ll be battle hymns at Stonebridge during the night,” said Commander Hunt.

“But we don’t know the extent of enemy forces or their deployment. And I’m really in need of a rest.”

“It doesn’t matter. We’ll have the open areas of the countryside under control today before they can bring many forces in. We should have a five league circle around Agor by morning. With any luck they’ll send troops up without proper lines and we can encircle them. Hartor’s men wil try and keep out of the fight, they’ll move in behind us from the coast.”

“So we need reconnaissance on the southern edge of the forest to look out for counterattack on the flank. By horse. It’s too far to get men there and back on foot. Yes. I’ll go back down immediately and send the orders. Simen, stay here until my father’s intelligence has been posted then report the details to me.”

Peter approached Luke as the meeting broke up. “Sir, are you fit to fight? They say you’ve taken a fall.”

“You want to fight in my place? Of course you do.” Luke checked himself. “No, I’ll be fine. No one else can do it for me anyway. But,” he looked around to check that no one was nearby, “I worry about all these Castle Guard people. It’s one thing having the enemy pointing arrows at you ...”

“I can’t tell you anything about that,” said Peter.

“But you know Commander Tivoli. Probably better than anyone else.”

“We never discuss business.”

“What do you mean? Your family seems to have survived remarkably well. You never discuss business?”

“Please, Luke, you put me in a very difficult position. I have to survive don’t I?”

“And we all know why he wants you to survive.”

“You wouldn’t understand.” Peter’s eyes flashed a warning.

“Oh I understand all right. That man has caused more trouble in Kingston City than ... He thinks he can just pick someone out because ... I don’t know but I’m damned well going to do something about it.”

“No, don’t. You’re mad. He’s the one who’s kept it all in balance.” Peter suddenly stopped. “I’ve got to go. I have to meet Igor.”

Luke watched him as he strode from the tent. He shrugged his shoulders and tried to mount but his leg was weak so he called an orderly to help him onto the horse.

*

As soon as the watchmen called midnight the soldiers struck up their songs, putting fear into the enemy as they summoned the gods to join them.

Luke had learnt battle songs as a warrior in the Lodge, but they were nothing compared to the wild demonstrations of Rah’s might. All along the stream, up the hill and across the land towards the Forest the hillsides shone with fire and echoed with the voices of hundreds of men. In the moonlight he could clearly see the wide spacing of the singers. He was amazed at the way their clever harmonies and loud instruments turned an army into a multitude. Through the night they carried on, each man continuing for half an hour before being replaced. In the last hour before dawn they all stood together, their bold boasts of superiority tormenting the valleys.

“And we still have a hundred horses to back them up. And all of Hartor’s men in reserve. The enemy will scuttle back to the Hinderith if they’ve got any sense.” Luke stood with Simen on a hillock overlooking the stream at the top of the watershed below Stonebridge. The farmhouse itself illuminated in orange shades about two hundred paces uphill. In the false dawn the sunlight promised a bright day but he could see it would rise above the clouds soon enough and the world would fall into damp shadow.

“I think the enemy will try to draw us into the Forest, sir. The men will be less at ease there. It’s harder for you to appreciate, having been brought up in this area and trained to fight there.”

“No, we’ll be able to avoid the Forest. Any fighting there is will take place nearer to Agor. We’ve been herding them that way all the time. Still, the men are well trained. No one who does go in the woods should get cut off. Their weapons will take care of any dogs or wild animals they come across.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Luke looked east. Away from the Forest, past the hills of Elenea and beyond the sea itself a faint corner of the sun pierced the heavy clouds.

“Time to go,” he said.

“The gods have favoured us,” said Simen as they moved the men forward. “The wind is blowing over from Elenea.”

Although the sun was still struggling to lift off the horizon its light reflected off the swirling clouds to guide the march. The men were in fine spirits at this good stroke of fortune but as the day increased the light diminished and the wind became rougher.

“A semaphore message from Commander South,” said Simen. “They’ve passed through all the farms so far with no resistance. The locals are favourable to us.”

“Good. They still have half an hour to Cano. The reserves will fill in behind to make sure no one springs a surprise on us.”

As the various detachments of the invaders moved down into the land they left men guarding the perimeter of the Forest to cut the communications of the enemy. Twenty horsemen watched the southern edge, approximately one each league, under instructions not to engage the enemy but simply to alert Luke by blowing their horns should any forces appear. He did not expect trouble from that direction because of the complications of assembling and manoeuvring a force in the dense trees.

The sun rose and the clouds grew darker. Moving unopposed deep into the civilised area of the country and not far from his own birthplace Luke felt a chill as he approached the abandoned buildings of the Lodge.

“This hasn’t been used for a long time,” he said, getting off his horse to examine a rotten timber.

“I wouldn’t go inside, sir,” warned Simen. “The whole thing looks unsafe.”

“No. Quite right. We must press on. Now we’re on the Forest side of the Cana and not so far from the sea we should meet with Hartor’s forces and get out of the threat of being in enemy country.”

Luke remounted. Despite the lack of a night’s sleep he felt vigorous. With the extra height he could see clear across the river. He called Simen and ordered him to stop the advance.

“Look over there. Safe or not, we’re going to have to use The Lodge.”

It had been built on high ground and Luke was familiar with the look-out post on top of the uniquely designed three storey accommodation. He was glad the occupying force had not thought to demolish the structure but had simply left it derelict. Luke and Simen tested each step as they climbed the outside. The post itself swayed in the breeze and Simen stood tensely waiting for it to crash down.

Across the river in the distance on the higher ground Luke could see around two hundred soldiers gathered with fifteen to twenty horses. They were clearly waiting for something to happen. Luke struggled to come down again, Simen holding the post as well as he could.

“That’ll be their decoy force.”

“No, sir. It must be part of the occupying army. They’ll have retreated from each village ahead of us.”

“But there’s only ... There must be a reserve force in Agor itself. Well, they’re cut off from the town and cut off from the Forest. Assemble the forces, charge in on foot with horses behind and destroy them in one go.”

“Shall we kill them or take prisoners?”

“Do what is necessary. They must be taken out before any forces from Agor get to join them. I’ll flank them off along the stream, we have plenty of men. No harm in sending a clear message to the rest of their soldiers.”

“Yes sir. We’ll charge them. I have two hundred men and fifty horses. I’ll report back when it’s done. Ready to send a message to Commander South, sir, he has the rest above the enemy.”

The commands rang out with whistles and horns. Luke’s troops ranged on the southern bank of the Tecana, half between Agor and the large apo, where neither his men nor the enemy would dare go, just out of arrowshot, and the rest about three leagues upstream on the other side of the ancient and overgrown ruins. The enemy stood between the two rivers, straight opposite the apo. Neither of the twin rivers was a great obstacle to men, and even less to horses, so Luke raced up the north bank of the Cana to cut off the retreat.

Luke gathered a group of men who had a horn and a drum. Taking deep breath he ordered attention. The drum beat and fell silent. He projected his voice into the far distance.

“By orders of the divine and eternal Rah, ruler of Elenea. The province of Athelea is to be cleared of all bandits and occupying forces. You are commanded to lay down your arms and give allegiance to Rah. Any who disobey will be forfeit of their lives.” He gestured the horn to sound again.

One of the horsemen moved forward. Despite the distance Luke was not surprised to make out a young man, barely in his twenties, with the fur of a wolf’s head draping behind his shoulders. Luke wondered whether it was a mountain dog or just a garment stitched to look like the mythical creature.

“Luke of Cano. Farmer from Athelea. You come to invade your own country in the name of hostile eastern forces. But what is a man on a horse against the power of the mountain wolves?”

Luke semaphored to Simen. “Give the signal.”

Twenty horses came out of hiding and ranged on the southern bank opposite the enemy, whose troops looked smaller and more vulnerable. None had left. Drops of rain started to fall from the darkening sky. In the distance thunder shook over the mountains. Luke hoped the gods were not offended.

Above and to the rear of the enemy five hundred voices cried in unison, shooting their arrows as they charged. Metal tips cut the poorly defended enemy soldiers as they reloaded their bows. Their horses reared and panicked, causing consternation among the survivors. Luke found an easy place to ford the river and his men splashed behind.

A horse broke free from the routed enemy and headed in the direction of the Forest. Others tried to come with it but were cut off. With some skill the young man, Luke knew perfectly well who it was, escaped the encirclement. Even at full gallop he was several minutes ahead. Luke chased, leaving his soldiers under Simen to draw the battle to its conclusion. Closing in on the flying wolfhead he was forced to slow once they approached and then entered the trees. He wondered where his own horsemen were, who should have been on picket duty in front of the forest curtain.

I’ll get you. Be sure of that. If this is a trap we die together. Picking his way through familiar paths, ducking under low branches, he tracked by ear, spying his quarry from time to time in the cold gloom. Acutely aware of the pattern of noises and silences he realised there were no others in this part of the wood. Fighting of waves of tiredness that tried to fog his mind. He breathed relief. They were on their own.

Luke caught up with his brother as the woods gave way to a wide clearing. Lion Pool, where animals of the Forest came to drink from the confluence of two tiny streams. It was quiet now, only the rings of raindrops disturbing its surface.

“Marcos. Put down your weapons. You have no military strength. All your men here and in the Hinderith will die unless you surrender.”

A spear whistled through the rain in response. It was a good throw but too distant, the tail merely brushing against Luke’s neck protector. He charged the dappled brown mare which reminded him so strongly of Lianna.

Marcos held the horse facing Luke and stepped to one side at the last minute. Luke moved in the same direction, toppling his brother with one hand, pulling up sharply as he did so. Jumping from his horse he unstrapped his metal dagger in a single motion. Holding the blade high above his head he raised his eyes to the dark heavens to provide him with strength.

A searing blast of lightning exploded across the sky, gleaming against the swirling clouds. Through pelting rain Luke saw, incredibly, a face peering from the firmament. His body shook with disbelief.

Uncle! It was you. It was you. It was you who exiled my grandfather. And now you want to watch as I destroy my own brother. He glanced down at Marcos, still sprawled backwards along the ground, anticipating his fate. No. It won’t be the same this time. Again he looked up. Another bolt burst overhead showing just clouds marching and mingling randomly across the sky.

Luke grabbed his brother tore his weapons away and threw them down then yanked him to his feet. His own horse had bolted so he pushed the confused warrior onto the dappled mare and jumped on behind.

A crashing from the trees alerted Luke. Turning he saw a pair of horses and realised which two of his trusted men served the Castle Guard. Already they were fetching arrows from their packs.

Holding on to his brother Luke urged the horse forward. “Go on, Marcos. Drive the hell out of here.”