Fates Choice Page 11

  Just as Carodin was recounting his future tale of woe, Torr caught sight of Raeknor who was standing on his own, munching at platters of meat, cheeses, pies and fruit that had been laid out on a long table which reached almost two thirds along the length of the hall itself. For a thinly framed young man, Raeknor had always eaten like a man possessed. He was stood with one arm leaning against the table, one hand full of different meats whilst he picked at other plates with his other hand, looking for all the world like a young urchin on the brink of starving to death and suddenly faced with a table of heavenly delights.

  “And where in all the hells have you been may I ask?” said Torr to Raeknor.

  Raeknor turned to them as Torr and Carodin approached. He had difficulty grinning as his mouth was stuffed full. This also meant he did not have time for a witty comeback. It was all Raeknor could do to swallow and then wash it down with the contents of a large goblet, almost spilling his drink on his dress shirt.

  Torr thought he had time for a second blow but Carodin was too quick. “You sure you are in the right camp, Raeknor Millerson, ‘cos you’re eating like a gaestnip!”

  The three of them then greeted each other in hearty and genuine fashion before they caught up on the weeks events so far. It transpired that Raeknor and the magistrate’s men had also been in charge of garrison supplies so there had been a lot of travel, loading and unloading back at Paega’s Bay.

  “But haven’t you been doing weapons drill?” asked Carodin. “Oh...yes...yes” said Raeknor half heartedly, before he changed the topic to the more agreeable sights before them, not only on the table, but also in the hall itself. All three took the opportunity to wander into the marquee as well. However, they got a shock when they all asked for a second glass of wine, only to be informed by the head butler, who was quick to come over, that Commander Valheimer had expressly forbidden the waiters from allowing the three young men anything other than one glass each.

  “Well shit, we are going to have to find other ways to enjoy ourselves then aren’t we?” said Raeknor. As he had been the first to arrive he had gleaned that the function had, essentially, been called in honour of their forthcoming attack. Unfortunately, this also meant a blessing which, in turn, would mean a sermon from Abbot Cleaves.

  “Do you mean we are going to have to listen to Ol Big Nose prattle on whilst we are sober?” Carodin exclaimed in horror.

  Whilst the sermon was indeed compulsory it was, mercifully for the young men, quite short lived. However, as young officers and magistrates who were undertaking this most dangerous but righteous of quests, they were also in demand for conversation from many of the guests afterwards. All three therefore had to spend much of the evening accepting the thoughts and good wishes of almost everyone who approached them.

  The enlisted men were elsewhere and the only other weald officer was Captain Braetol, excluding Garel Valheimer himself.

  Ahred Ulher was in attendance though and Balahak also made an appearance, which offered some much needed assistance in diverting attention away from the three friends. Both Suthrasian men were clad in their traditional long flowing black robes that were the source of many polite, but largely insincere, enquiries about their origin. Ahred was clearly used to weald hospitality and the polite falseness offered by the elite guests. Torr gained the impression that Ahred would have quite happily murdered most of the people here without feeling guilty, a view with which Torr empathised. Balahak on the other hand was clearly no social climber. His manners were worse than Raeknor’s and each time a well heeled guest tried to converse with him, he tried speaking with his mouth full, not that he knew much Weald anyway.

  In fact, Balahak had come over to the three young men after one group of guests had backed away from the poor Suthrasian after he had used the front of his robes to wipe some particularly greasy food off his hands. Carodin interpreted to his two friend’s that Balahak wanted some more help with what to say. He had apparently forgotten the two or three inappropriate phrases that Carodin and Torr had tried to teach him earlier in the week. Torr and Raeknor looked at each other and grinned. Perhaps they could have some fun after all.

  As the evening wore on and the three young men had gone their separate ways to see which particularly eligible and attractive young ladies they could speak to, Torr caught sight of the young redhead he had seen before at earlier functions. The girl in question had spotted Torr as well, smiled politely and then looked down. Another drink wouldn’t have gone amiss for some courage, thought Torr, but he made his way over to where she was standing anyway which, fortunately, was by the table in the marquee. By this time though there was not much food left. Torr presumed from the empty plates that Raeknor and Balahak must have had an eating contest.

  In fact, as Torr walked over towards the young lady, politely pretending to be going towards what little appetisers were left, he heard the sound of Balahak practising one of the phrases that Raeknor had taught him on an older, rather starched and austere, lady who had come over to try and converse with the Suthrasian. “Fook off you olda baeg”, said Balahak as casually as he could. He had to say it twice as the lady seemed either deaf or not interested in anything the Suthrasian had to say anyway.

  Torr grinned as he listened, head down with his ear cocked to try and see if the old lady caught on. Raeknor and Carodin would want to know how the old lady reacted. However, when he looked up, he saw that the girl he had been smiling at was now standing right next to him. He hoped he didn’t look shocked. Dragon’s Balls, he thought. He was about to go off and fight a battle so it was a bit worrying if he was startled by a slim petite red haired girl about a head shorter than him.

  “Hello”, she said, matter of factly, with something of a deadpan expression on her face. Her green dress went well with her hair, he thought, but realised this was not the way to introduce himself. The more he thought about what he should say the more he realised that he was now just staring without saying anything. “Umm...hello” the girl said again, “I am Elswyth Roedart, pleased to meet you”, she said, half curtsying very quickly. “This is the bit where you introduce yourself” she continued, given Torr’s ongoing surprised silence.

  “Umm...I like your dress”.

  “Oh, well, it’s nice to meet you Master I like Your Dress, what an unusual name, care to ask me for the next dance?” As the girl, who had confidently introduced herself as Elswyth took Torr’s arm and pulled, he tried to say something but realised it might sound like he didn’t want to dance when, actually, he did. So, without the courtesy of having given the young lady his name, he followed her dutifully into the centre of the marquee, just as the larger of the two bands struck up another tune.

  Torr and Elswyth were quickly joined by others but they were close to the band so conversation was difficult. This gave him time to compose himself and suggest, after one dance, that they perhaps go for a walk in one of the walled gardens.

  “Sorry, my name is...”

  “Torr Skarsdale I believe”, finished Elswyth for him. “In fact, isn’t it Captain Skarsdale now?”

  “Yes... how did you...”.

  “My father has provided ten men to the forthcoming unpleasantness, two of whom will be under your command in fact Captain Skarsdale”.

  “Ahh... I see, well, obviously, I will do my best to take care of them.”

  “Yes, please do” she said, with some authority as she linked her arm under his. “Now, let’s go wander through the garden”.

  It transpired as they walked and Torr regained his wit, that the maiden name of Elswyth’s mother was Valheimer. As such, she was a distant niece, she believed, of Efaen and Garel and, therefore, also of Lord Valheimer of Paega, hence her familiarity with the court gardens which she was demonstrating now as they found paths that other guests were missing.

  Because of the assistance her father, she had listened (through closed doors at her home) to the plan as her father disclosed to her mother what was happening and also found out what was going o
n from their men who had volunteered as well.

  “So I thought I would come and seek you out at this function, particularly as you were taking your time to introduce yourself to me,” Elswyth continued, “and I suspect I needed more liquid courage than you”. Torr looked at her and thought she seemed more confident than she had looked when he had previously seen her earlier in the year. “Umm... we’re not allowed to drink - well, one glass,” he explained.

  “And quite right too”, she patted his hand as they continued.

  Their conversation turned to topics and people they had in common. Elswyth knew Carodin and his family as her own father was also a merchant. Their estate was on the far side of Paega to Home Manor but she obviously knew of Aelboric’s shipyard as well.

  Elswyth asked about the plan and Torr saw no harm in confiding a few basic details to her, his humour returning as he asked her to promise not to run and tell the gaestnips.

  By this time they had walked back past the marquee and into the main hall. People were starting to leave now, including Elswyth’s family.

  “Well, nice to spend time with you” she said with all requisite politeness. “Likewise” said Torr smiling.

  She looked at him somewhat more sternly, “Be careful”. Elswyth then stood on tiptoe, kissed his cheek, and left.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  T he last three days of training went well which also buoyed Torr’s confidence in addition to the outcome of the ball.

  Garel had also come over to Torr to enquire what the billhooks in the back of their wagon were for. Garel had noticed them in passing as they had been left in the old caravan in which Torr and his father’s men had come up to the garrison. Torr had forgotten all about them as the men had been quickly folded into Captain Braetol’s command, with sword and shield or spear drill commencing shortly after that.

  Torr explained what they were and his quick thought about what they might be useful for, when he saw the men using them before they left Home Manor.

  “We do have pike formations, specifically for use against giantkin anyway” Garel informed Torr, without being too patronising to the inexperienced new cavalry officer. “But as we have none here then, yes, I think we can make use of them. As it is your men who are used to handling these things, we will assign them accordingly I think”. Torr wasn’t sure if he had therefore placed his men in more or less danger by bringing the billhooks.”Generally though, we find it is best to just run the damn giants through with long shafted weapons like this, rather than just try and hook them down, but let’s see”.

  The men from Home Manor were dutifully re assigned as an impromptu pike squad and managed to impress the senior and experienced officers with their drill and ability with the longer weapon.

  By the time they came to set off, Torr had little apprehension. Even the first leg of their journey would be quite easy.

  They set off from the garrison with the intent of marching to Tantes, where they would make their first camp, and then set off the following day for the rest of their journey to Oaks Keep. A rider had arrived the evening before they had set off with a message to confirm that twenty men from Bereofs Town guard were already on their way to Oaks Keep and ready to join the fray, which buoyed Garel noticeably.

  When they set off from Valheimer’s garrison though, there was no fanfare or crowd to wave them off, just Garel, on his heavy charger at the head of the column of men, horse and caravans.

  They started their march in disciplined silence, the noise of armour, horse, caravan and equipment more than making up for the lack of human voice.

  Again, it was a dry day but Torr could sense a change in the wind direction today, which was now slightly at their backs and therefore coming from the north, starting in The Whistling Plains and caressing Daret Moor with its colder touch.

  It was still dry though and the condition on the road good, therefore, for horse and caravan.

  Some of the men made camp within Tantes much smaller garrison, which was little more than a fortified militia barracks. There was insufficient room for all the men though, so part of their camp had to be set up outside of Tantes itself, for the less fortunate troops of the command. The officers had been invited to spend the evening with Carodin’s family whose hospitality was gratefully received.

  Tantes was slightly smaller than Paega in size but the market area was larger. It was the biggest and most important market in Sommerswake. But it was far more bohemian in approach. Many residents still believed in the natural healing powers of Drim Forest, rather than the church apothecaries approved remedies. Truth be told, most who believed in that alternative approach were actually the wives of merchants with nothing to do all day except gossip amongst themselves about how important and self righteous they were, whilst casting scorn on the less fortunate workers who kept them in their gilded estates.

  Those too busy and with suitable skills and intelligence to hold down employment, accepted Drim Forest for what it was, a dangerous and difficult environment for any sane or intelligent being.

  House Culos was probably larger and taller than Home Manor but with less estate, hence Carodin’s affinity for fighting on foot. There had not been the grounds for horsemanship, just sufficient room for him to practice throwing his short swords, which he had insisted on keeping.

  Raeknor had joined them, the three young men catching up on their successes and failures when they parted company at the recent ball.

  It was only at this stage that Raeknor directly confirmed that he and his magistrate’s men would be in charge of the caravan that held the false siege equipment. It was their job to make a show of erecting it as soon as they entered the battlefield and to do their best to make a show of protecting it, to ensure the gaestnips thought the threat of death by fiery catapult ordinance was real. Raeknor was also in charge of the entire column’s supplies and the camps each night on their journey down to Oaks Keep, effectively giving him more to take charge of than Torr and Carodin put together.

  Torr remained unsure if this was a safe job or place for Torr to be on the battlefield, but decided that was probably better than in one of the main ranks of infantry. Torr promised The Lord, in his prayers, that he would endeavour to keep Raeknor safe.

  They took turns that evening to try and emulate Carodin’s skill, which actually seemed considerable, of simultaneously throwing two short swords at two already battered targets. Clearly, Carodin had spent many a long evening venting his frustration at these, around the back of the tall Culos family townhouse.

  The officers left just past dawn the following morning, to join the men who were already striking camp for the onward march to Oaks Keep. It was hoped that, with luck, they could make the trip in four camps, not five. Garel had also confirmed that The Dog Pack had sent word to him in the night that they were progressing as planned, somewhere well out of sight on their left flank. Garel and Ahred had agreed that, if The Dog Pack encountered any gaestnip scouts as they drew closer, that they were to be left alone. If the scouts failed to return then that would probably be a greater general warning to their leader than if they just knew a large military convoy was passing. As such, their column displayed Valheimer’s arms as flags, not that of any merchant house. Not that it was thought the gaestnips had any knowledge of the various coats of arms and flags, but the lack of visible caravan booty, not to mention a hundred or so armed men would, it was hoped, be sufficient to stop the gaestnips from attacking them on the road. If they did, then even outnumbering them two to one at this stage (if Bernhart was to be believed about their numbers), would mean an encounter too close for comfort.

  The main turnpike road that, eventually, led to the Weald of Coombe and beyond to the southern coast ran directly adjacent to Drim Forest between Tantes and Oaks Keep, with nothing but a ditch for protection against the wild animals and creatures of this place.

  Torr kept looking into the tree line, not out of fear, but hope that, somehow, Eagred could and would make herself known to him. Howeve
r, his time with Elswyth just a couple of nights ago, had clouded his emotions on this. Elswyth’s kiss had not at least left him a mindless husk. To the other side of the road, on their left as they marched south, was the start of The Great Fields. Square league after square league of fertile and rich soil that gave Sommerswake its unofficial moniker of breadbasket to all the wealds.

  Even at the pace of the slowest supply caravans, the column of a hundred or so men and horse managed to make the journey south in four nights, striking camp efficiently each dawn.

  Oaks Keep came into view just as the men were starting to tire at the end of the last day’s march. The first clue of their arrival was a thinning of the forest, which peeled back from the road to reveal the solitary tower that comprised this major place of learning and record keeping. It’s library, which was supposedly in a separate building, was said to be home to a greater collection of tomes than anywhere else in all the wealds or Alrunia.

  Despite its name, the Keep itself was not a wooden structure. It was simply named after the location in which it was founded. It was originally part of the forest itself. Over time, as the wealds became more civilised and more visitors came to learn and seek knowledge from the first few generation of mages, the trees had been cut back, allegedly with the agreement of the forest denizens. The walled settlement was now stood several hundred yards from the nearest copse. The only honour to its title was the row of oak trees which lined the track from the turnpike to the gates of Oaks Keep itself. The main structure of the tower was of worked light coloured granite slabs although with plenty of wooden beams from the variously sized windows. There were also several large doors, half way up, which opened out onto precarious looking and un-railed decking platforms.

  A few workshops had settled here which, in turn, meant an inn, stores and all the other associated structures and buildings. Eventually, this led to a small garrison even though Oaks Keep was as entitled to the protection of The Weald Lord of Sommerswake as any other settlement therein. All were situated around the outside of the tower that had evolved into Oaks Keep itself. The ancillary buildings were nestled up against the boundary wall, forming a circle around the tower, as if each building were paying homage to the keep that had given rise to their existence in the first place.