of the great Tar Nev. Calbrick backed away slightly, very confident but as he glanced about at the others he noticed that no one on the Massi side of the courtyard showed any signs of concern. Their King was risking his life. He would obviously be facing a very skilled opponent, but no one on the Massi side seemed agitated in the least. He wondered briefly at it, but then crouched as Gwaynn began to circle him.
“You will order your men from Eno and Toranado,” Gwaynn said as he passed Weldon, glancing briefly at the Palmerrio King. It was at that moment that Calbrick pounced, just as Gwaynn expected, but Gwaynn was no longer where the Executioner expected him to be. Time once again slowed to a crawl and Gwaynn sliced easily through the Executioner’s right arm, the blow coming from a slightly different angle than the young man expected. Gwaynn quickly moved around and stood before King Weldon once again then released time. The young man from Sinis screamed loudly as his hand fell away. Weldon jumped and his mouth fell open. From his point of view Gwaynn’s movements were just a blur, much too fast for the eye to follow.
“You will order your men from Eno and Toranado,” Gwaynn repeated, staring directly into the King’s eyes. Real, deep fear appeared there as the older man stared back but Gwaynn did not pause to enjoy the look, instead he slowed time again and quickly cut the head from the Executioner and then sheathed his kali and return to his chair. He was very tired, and hunger was knifing through his belly, but he was determined to show no weakness before King Weldon Palmerrio. Time lurched forward, Gwaynn’s control slipping a bit in his exhaustion. King Weldon gasped loudly as Calbrick’s head thumped to the ground, even before his body crumpled. But his surprise was lost among the host of others, only N’dori seemed unperturbed by the eerily quick movements of the Prince. Her light laughter now filled the stunned hall.
“You will order your men from Eno and Toranado today, this very hour,” Gwaynn demanded again and Weldon gazed at him in sheer terror.
Gwaynn fought against another crippling cramp but somehow remained upright. N’dori could see the beads of perspiration on the young King’s forehead and knew what the performance had cost him.
“He,” Gwaynn began, gesturing to Calbrick, “was not a Tar,” he continued and stared coldly at Weldon. “He was not even a very good Executioner,” he added and N’dori’s laugh echoed once more through the courtyard.
“He…he was a trainee, not a Tar,” Weldon replied still shaken by the unbelievably fast movements of the boy in front of him. It was not possible.
Gwaynn shrugged. “You will order your men from Toranado,” he stated simply and spun one bloody kali for emphasis.
Weldon stared fearfully at the swinging weapon and said nothing…but in the end, he did cooperate.
?
“The Massi army has arrived in Manse,” Captain Tramm said with surprise and dolefulness. Tramm was a handsome young man with dark hair and eyes. He was tall with a slim build but with wide strong shoulders and thighs, the absolutely perfect build for a Knight. He’d risen through the ranks quickly and was a deadly horseman, but lacked the experience to understand the subtleties of strategy. He was learning, however.
Hothgaard looked up and sighed. It was what he feared as the days past and no word came from the King Weldon. The Palmerrio had obviously lost the Plateau.
“How strong?”
Tramm shook his head. “Hard to tell but there are cheers coming from the city.”
“Not returning in defeat then,” Hothgaard answered, knowing that taking Manse now was beyond the ability of his forces, maybe even with the arrival of the Rhondono army. The desire to pick up and leave this land suddenly threatened to overwhelm him once more.
“No…it doesn’t seem so,” Tramm answered, then asked. “Any word from Gan?”
Hothgaard shook his head. “Nothing yet, the King should have landed on the finger late yesterday…or perhaps this morning. We should have heard from him in any case.”
“We should pull back,” Tramm suggested, moving farther into the tent. He poured himself a small glass of water from the pitcher on the table and poured one for his commander as well. “Maybe threaten Cape again and perhaps they’ll be foolish enough to abandon their safe haven.”
Hothgaard nodded his head, which no longer hurt and his fever was gone. He was still weak but would completely recover within a day or two. He sat looking at the younger Captain, encouraged by the young man’s thoughts.
“Taking Manse may be out of the question now,” he finally replied. “The High King will not be happy, but I think we should move to the east, put pressure on Lynndon, perhaps join up with the King at the base of the finger.”
Tramm smiled, finished his drink and set the glass back on the table. “They’ll have to move if we threaten Lynndon.”
Hothgaard shrugged. “Perhaps, but without the Palmerrio our position on the Plateau might not afford us any advantage.”
“You think Weldon is finished then?”
“The Massi army would not have returned to Manse otherwise.”
Captain Tramm frowned. “We need to draw them out. Lure them away from their defenses and out on the plains where we can crush them.”
“You speak lightly of the army that has managed to destroy the Deutzani twice and now apparently the Palmerrio,” Hothgaard replied.
“They were not Temple Knights,” Tramm replied confidently.
“Beware young Knight,” Hothgaard warned, suddenly very serious. “Underestimate the Massi at your peril,” he added, thinking about their recent clash with the Massi cavalry.
Tramm sat in uncomfortable silence for a moment, but then Hothgaard stood. “But you are correct; we need to lure them out onto the plains. In Manse, I fear we will never defeat them. If we moved on Lynndon perhaps we can coax them to split their forces, then we’ll have them.”
Tramm said nothing, having no further ideas of his own. Hothgaard moved out of the tent and the young Captain rose and followed him outside. The cheers from the besieged city of Manse were still echoing off the distant Scar.
Hothgaard glanced around and noticed that most of his men were just standing about and glumly listening to the celebration.
Hothgaard turned back to Tramm who waited expectantly. “Pass the word. We break camp in the morning.”
“And?”
“And we head to the east.”
?
“Tar Nev has taught you some of our secrets I see,” Tarina re N’dori said a day later as she helped Monde, na Gall and the new little Traveler Laynee, hold open a massive bridge to the Scar Gap. Gwaynn nodded, smiling at the Solitary’s control; he was not helping in the effort, his body still not recovered from his manipulation of time the previous day. Once the connection was made, thousands of Toranado heavy infantry poured through along with a couple of hundred Toranado cavalrymen and an additional five hundred Massi Archers. The Speaker Wynth also made the trip for communications purposes. They were to hold the Gap against all comers including the Temple Knights if they attempted to retreat back to Toranado lands. The bridge was immense and strong; it was the strongest bridge created since the passing of Galen Dawkins over three thousand years ago, but the group was not aware of the fact. N’dori was very powerful and both Monde and na Gall had grown in strength since the war began, the constant need for bridges and Speaker bubbles increasing their potency.
The Travelers stood in a loose semi-circle facing west while Prince Phillip, Tabernas, General Bock and Tar Kostek watched from relatively close by. Queen Ramona, who was still not well, was back in her quarters
