Elsewhere

King from the north.

“Everyone stay in tight,” Krys ordered loudly so that all five hundred men could hear. The group shifted position, though they were already packed in very close. Somehow, the soldiers pressed even more tightly together. Through the bridge, vague colors became visible and Gwaynn knew the time was very close.

“Aaaaauuuu!” he heard the Toranado heavy infantry yell from up on the hill.

“Aaaaauuuu,” called the Toranado men around him very softly, not wanting to give away their presence. Gwaynn was impressed that they managed to keep their voices down in the excitement. Their caution was unfounded because seconds later the crest of the hill erupted with sound, the clash of metal, the defiant yells of men and women, followed quickly by the screams of the wounded and dying. The soldiers at the base of the hill looked up at the symphony of noise, but Gwaynn continued to stare intently at Monde. The Traveler opened her eyes and stared into his.

“I will be watching and waiting for your return…do not dally,” she ordered and Gwaynn nodded.

“Travel!” the two women and Laynee yelled in unison, the young girl’s voice sounding like a small bell, surprisingly clear among the more horrific sounds of battle coming from the hilltop.

The bridge expanded to impressive proportions and Gwaynn, Krys, Phillip and Tabernas rushed through, but more followed quickly since the bridge was sufficiently large enough that six men could file across together. The raiding party started through without hesitation, without even checking to see if they were in the correct position. Gwaynn trusted the Travelers and the soldiers trusted Gwaynn.

Their trust was well founded for when Gwaynn and the first popped out on the far side of the bridge they were just over sixty yards from Weldon’s position. Around the King stood his personal guard, numbering perhaps eighty men; fifty were mounted on horseback, but there were another thirty or so men on foot. Most of those on foot were archers by the looks of them. Without pausing to get a truly accurate read, Gwaynn and the others ran directly at the enemy. They ran quietly, wanting to get as close as possible before they were detected.

“Ho!” Phillip yelled to Gwaynn’s left and he glanced around. Farther down the hill and perhaps two hundred yards away to the east were hundreds of archers and perhaps five hundred horsemen all mounted and waiting. Gwaynn could not get a clear count because some of the force appeared to be hidden from view by another small hill.

‘Reserves!’ Gwaynn berated himself. ‘How could Monde and na Gall missed them?’ The horsemen were facing away and toward the battlefield but there were groups of archers milling about and some were facing their direction and they were all within easy bow range. The Palmerrio archers were already screaming out warnings to those around them and to Gwaynn’s dismay he saw that the King’s personal guard was know alert and taking up position to meet them.

Gwaynn toyed with the idea of immediately retreating even though he was now only some thirty yards from the nearest of the King’s guard. Archers from among Weldon’s group were already shooting arrows his direction. If they were going to turn about it had to be now, but then Gwaynn spotted two figures dressed all in black, robes trimmed with red and in a blink all thoughts of retreating vanished.

“Charge!” Gwaynn yelled and began to sprint up the small hill. He glanced briefly over to the reserve archers who were now shooting arrows up at their position, their rate of fire quickly increasing. Several arrows whizzed past his head but he could do nothing about them so he turned his attention back to those in front of him. Gwaynn realized his men had to engage the enemy archers quickly before the mounted personal guard could form a barrier against them. If this gamble was to work now they had to get to the Palmerrio King within the next few minutes or the reserve cavalry would reach and overwhelm them.

Arrows flew past on all sides as Gwaynn ran. He adjusted his route slightly in order to head directly for the Assassins. He would handle them while the others hopefully carried out the mission. He glanced about for Krys, to tell him to go after Weldon, but his Weapons Master was no longer by his side. He didn’t have much time to wonder about it before suddenly he was on the pair of Executioners. They stood ready, confident and just before Gwaynn engaged them he noticed that one of the black robed figures was a woman. The realization surprised him and caused an uneasy feeling to bubble up in his chest.

‘Female Executioners.’ He found the thought strangely disturbing for some reason. But then he was on them and though he was surprised by the woman’s presence, it did not stop him from turning her first blow and then slicing her head off just that quickly. He spun to face her partner, quickly blocking his counter move, noticing the look of shock on the man’s face.

“She’s not my first,” Gwaynn growled. “Nor my last,” and then he waded in on the man, his blows coming so fast and with such power that the Executioner immediately knew that he was facing someone with truly uncommon skill.

“A Tar!” The Executioner thought to himself just before he lost his left hand at the wrist. A few seconds later his right kali was knocked aside and he lost his head, which plopped in the dust at his feet, his body fell and then jerked about as if trying to run, not yet realizing it was dead.

Gwaynn didn’t stop to gloat; instead he turned and quickly checked on the position of the Palmerrio King. To his surprise Weldon Palmerrio was rapidly moving to the east, away from the threat which materialized out of nowhere. He was galloping in the direction of his reserves. Gwaynn watched with a frown as a mass of Palmerrio cavalry charged past their King and straight for his position. Gwaynn was not aware of how much time had passed while he’d fought the two Executioners, but he did not think it was overly long. Of Krys he saw nothing. All around, the Toranado troops were battling with the King’s guard who were heavily outnumbered and falling rapidly. Gwaynn was at a loss as to what to do next but knew he had to decide quickly. The Palmerrio cavalry reached the bottom of the hill and began charging up toward them. They were closing fast and would be on them in seconds. Gwaynn knew they would have trouble retreating if the reserves were allowed to reach them.

“Coward!” Prince Phillip yelled and Gwaynn knew the comment was directed at King Weldon, who continued to retreat down the hill away from them. Weldon was well passed his reserve archers and still moving fast to the east. His immediate group showed little sign of slowing. Gwaynn grimaced; they would not be catching the enemy King today. He cursed softly and started to shout the signal to retreat but he was interrupted by an attacking guard on horseback. The man was good and so was his horse, but as a pair they were much slower than Gwaynn and it only took him a few minutes to find an opening. He killed the horse first and the guard moments later.

“Fall back!” he yelled and glanced around, expecting to see the reserve cavalry and archers nearly upon them, but instead the reserves were moving back toward their  King, who was surprisingly still retreating and taking a good portion of the reserves with him.

“The Palmerrio are breaking off!” Tabernas yelled and pointed toward the main battle. Sure enough, the enemy was slowly disengaging from the fight and was beginning to head back in their direction.

“We need to get out of here!” Phillip yelled, afraid they would be cut off and surrounded by the retreating Palmerrio army, luckily at the moment there was little danger left in their immediate area, even the reserve archers were retreating out of range. There were a few individual fights still taking place but the Palmerrio guards in the vicinity were soon dispatched.

“Back to the bridge!” Gwaynn yelled and as if by command the bridge, which was being held open in miniature, suddenly expanded before them. Gwaynn ran toward the way to safety, looking about for Krys and wondering why his Weapons Master had not moved on the Palmerrio King, but again he did not find him. Then suddenly, just outside the boundaries of the bridge, Gwaynn caught sight of his friend lying prone in the grass, an arrow protruding from the right side of his skull. Gwaynn’s stomach lurched and he ran to Krys, knowing he was dead, but feeling an overwhelming need to check. He knelt in the grass as an entire army of the enemy topped the hill and moved in his direction. Gwaynn gently turned Krys over on his back. The arrow struck him just below and behind the right temple and was buried deep in his skull. Krys’ eyes were still open but blank. Surprisingly there was very little blood.

“Come,” Tabernas said quietly and it took Gwaynn a moment to realize the Toranado Weapons Master was kneeling by his side. Gwaynn checked for a heartbeat but did not find one. He was not expecting to, but how could he not check?

“Come,” Tabernas repeated and gently touched Gwaynn on the arm.

Gwaynn fought off a wave of sadness, his own body going slack. He did not respond to Tabernas as the Toranado infantry streamed past him and through the bridge. Gwaynn reached down and tenderly pulled his friend’s eyes closed, but still he would not leave. He tried to pull the arrow from his friend’s head but it would not come so in the end he just snapped the shaft as close to the temple as he was able. He paused a moment longer then stood.