"Trance Tower Garrison" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lackey Mercedes)TRANCE
TOWER GARRISON by
Fiona Patton Fiona
Patton was born in Calgary Alberta in 1962 and grew up in the United
States. In 1975 she returned to Canada, and after several jobs which
had nothing to do with each other, including carnival ride operator
and electrician, moved to 75 acres of scrub land in rural Ontario
with her partner, four—now six-cats of various sizes and one
tiny little dog. Her first book, The Stone Prince, was
published by DAW Books in 1997. This was followed by The Painter
Knight in 1998, The Granite Shield in 1999, and The
Golden Sword in 2001, also by DAW. She is currently working on
her next novel. The Ice Wall
Mountains were ablaze with color. The pink-and-orange glow of the
setting sun crowned the tops of the pine trees and feathered across
the foot-hills and plains like wisps of fire. It settled over the
slate roofs of Trance Tower Garrison, the northern-most outpost of
King Valdemar's young realm, and gleamed off the pikes and helmets of
the surrounding force which had poured through the mountain passes at
the first hint of spring. Standing on the
eastern ramparts, Corporal Norma Anzie of Gray Squad, one of Trance
Tower's senior sentinels, spat toward the ground. "That's one
big friggin' army," she noted sourly. The gray-haired
man standing beside her gave a brief nod. "Yep." "And it looks
like they're plannin' to stay."
"Yep." "A long
time." "Me'be." She glared over at
him. "Don't be strainin' your voice box now, Ernie." He shrugged.
"Me'be not so long," he elaborated after a moment. "How do you
figure?" "The King'll
send help." "Only if he
gets word." "Bessie got
through." "You don't
know that." His eyes narrowed.
"She got through," he growled. Raising her hands,
Norma dropped the subject. After the first trickle of soldiers had
come over the mountains, the garrison commander had sent his
lieutenant galloping for the capital. As the trickle'd become a
flood, he'd sent half a dozen more. All but one, Ernie's niece, Bess
Taws, had been returned to them as a headless corpse thrown down
before the gate—including the lieutenant. Bess was their only
hope but, after nearly a month with no sign of aid, only Ernie still
believed she'd made it through. Her expression grim, Norma squinted
southward. "How long do
you figure it takes to get to Haven?" she asked. Ernie shrugged.
"Ridin' hard, eight, me'be nine days." "Less if she
could get a boat down the Terilee River." "Yep." "How long to
raise a relief force?" "Dunno.
Depends." "A couple of
weeks?" "More like a
couple of months, me'be." With a scowl,
Norma peered up at the tiny line of enemy troops bringing supplies
over the mountains. With the harsh northern winter just past, Trance
Tower's own stores were low. If it took another month, it wouldn't
matter if Bess had gotten through or not. The garrison would be out
of food. "You'd think
there'd have been a paymaster or a supply wagon or somethin' come
from Haven before now, anyway," she snarled. "Me'be there
has been," Ernie answered in an ominous voice. As one, they
glanced toward the main gate. Neither could see the dark, fly-covered
bloodstains from where they stood but that didn't stop them from
looking. "How long
before they'd be due back do you figure someone might go lookin' for
them?" "Dunno. A
while, I guess." Returning her
attention to the force below, Norma shook her head. "With a
friggin' army that big," she muttered, "you'd think
somebody would've noticed it by now." Ernie just
shrugged. The sound of
shouting pulled their attention back inside the garrison. "What
the...?" From their vantage
point they could see a knot of people behind the west barracks,
shouting at—cheering on—Norma amended, two struggling
figures. There was a glint of golden hair as one had his head knocked
back from a well-placed blow, and Ernie swore. "Garet!" "Blast! You
know that means Andy." Ernie was already
halfway to the stairs. "Little . . .
I told him . . . come on," he puffed angrily. * * * Andy ducked a wild
swing, drove his fists into the other youth's unprotected right side
in a quick flurry of blows, then danced back with a tight smile.
Although Garet was older and larger than he, no one at Trance Tower
was faster. Around him, the growing crowd began to chant his name,
and the smile snapped off. Time to finish this before the noise drew
the wrath of the sergeant-at-arms down on them. He pressed forward. Sixteen-year-old
Ander Harrow had been born in the garrison. His mother had died in
childbirth and his father and three others had been caught in a
rock-slide when he was nine. Jem and Karl Harrow's remaining
squad-mates had raised the boy together, bringing him into the Guard
at twelve, protecting him, teaching him, but mostly just trying to
keep him out of trouble. Garet Barns had
joined the garrison two years before, and although they were not
friends, at eighteen he was the closest to Andy's own age, which
meant that when Andy was bored or just itching to cause mischief he
either sought Garet out to manipulate him into some scheme, or goad
him into a fight. Garet had a quick temper that could always be
counted on to flare up with the right words and Andy always knew the
right words. Now, his blue eyes
narrowed, Garet watched the other youth weave back and forth in a
parody of feints and counter feints, then struck out. His fist
connected right where he planned. Andy went flying into the crowd. The blood on his
face gleaming as brightly as his dark eyes, Andy showed his teeth to
his opponent in recognition of the blow, then leaped up, only to be
jerked off his feet once again. "What the
blue blazes do you think you're playin' at!" Her fist wrapped
in the back of his shirt, Norma shook him like a dog with a rat in
its teeth. "Haven't we
told you half a hundred times, no more fightin'?" Behind them, Ernie
stepped in front of Garet, who simply wiped the blood from his nose
with an even expression. Andy gave Norma a disarming smile. "It was just
a boxing match." "Bollocks!" "Really.
Something to pass the time and keep fit, right Garet?" Andy turned his
wide-eyed gaze on the other youth who just shrugged. "Sure,
whatever." "I'll show
you fit, I'll toss you off the north wall. Then we'll see how bloody
fit you are with half them bastards out there chasin' you." "Now there's
an idea." All eyes turned to
see the sergeant-at-arms leaning against the barracks, his expression
dark. "Don't you lot have somewhere else to be?" he asked
with dangerous politeness. The area was
suddenly empty of spectators. He turned back to
the two combatants. "Barns, K.P. Harrow, latrines. Don't,"
he held up one thick finger as Andy made to protest, "even think
about speakin', just git." When the two
youths were out of earshot, Norma gave the sergeant a sideways
glance. "That was
kinda lenient for you, wasn't it, Lom?"
He shrugged.
"There's little enough to keep up morale these days, might as
well make use of what distractions we've got. Keep him outta my sight
for a while, though, I might have a change of heart." "We'll put
him on night watch," Ernie answered. "That should tire him
out some." "Good idea.
Barns can take a turn as well." * * * That night Andy
stood on the north wall staring out at the nearly full moon. The
afternoon had been a partial success, he'd blown off some steam,
satisfied himself that Garet was no better a fighter than he, and
stirred up everyone's blood a bit. Since the enemy had bottled up
Trance Tower, the entire garrison was walking around like they'd
already lost. The air of doom and gloom was getting thick enough to
cut with a knife. Eyes narrowed, he glared down at the surrounding
campfires. So they were temporarily cut off from the rest of
Valdemar, so supplies were tight. Bessie would be back any day with
an army at her back and then they'd send this lot packing back over
the mountains double quick. His stomach
growled, and he rubbed it in rueful acknowledgment of its point. All
right, so they were in a tight spot—the quartermaster already
had them down to half rations— but they weren't beat yet, not
by a long shot. The enemy wasn't so tough. If they were, they'd have
taken Trance Tower already instead of just sitting out there with
their thumbs up...a movement below the wall made him stiffen. He
stared into the darkness for a long time, but eventually relaxed. It
was probably just a night-bird. He returned his attention to the
enemy. Nobody knew who
they were. The standards and banners they carried were unfamiliar and
the language their single envoy had spoken was gibberish even to the
commander; although the body he'd brought with him had spoken his
message clearly enough: surrender Trance Tower. Andy spat over the
wall in unconscious imitation of Norma. Not in this lifetime or any
other, he swore silently. His parents had died for this garrison and
no bunch of pike-wielding sons of whoevers were going to defile their
memories. They could sit out there until moss grew over them. Trance
Tower would never surrender no matter how hungry they got. His stomach
rumbled mournfully. "Aw, shut
up." Leaning against
the parapet, he stared out past the dark bulk of the surrounding
army. The moon was low in the sky, shining down on the lightly wooded
foothills. He'd hunted rabbits in those hills with Phen Royn and Harn
Anzie every year since he was ten years old. They should have been
out half a dozen times already this spring instead of standing on the
walls watching the enemy move about like they owned the place. Andy
grimaced. Their hunters had probably already stripped the hills of
rabbits. They were probably sitting around their campfires right now
eating roast rabbit and rabbit stew and rabbit pie and... Something white
flashed in the distant trees. He frowned. Ground lightning? It flashed again
and, risking arrow-shot from below, he leaned forward. Something was
moving in the hills beyond the enemy, moving fast. He saw it again
some twenty yards west of where he'd spotted it the first time. Then
again a few moments later farther still. It sparkled in the moonlight
for just an instant., its half hidden form vaguely familiar, then it
disappeared again. "What'cha you
doin', boy?" He jumped.
Spinning about, he shot a glare at Phen, who held out his canteen
with a chuckle. "Lookin' at
somethin'," he growled back. "What?
Someone takin' a piss?" Phen risked a glance over the edge. "No.
Somethin' strange. There." He pointed. "Where?" "Past the
troops to the west. Somethin's movin' out there like it's circlin'
around us." Phen peered into
the darkness. "I don't see
nothin'." He turned with a grin. "You imaginin' mountain
cats again?" Three years ago
Andy had been certain there'd been a mountain cat stalking the
garrison flocks. He'd even found tracks, but they'd turned out to
belong to a particularly big jackrabbit. Phen had never let him
forget it. Of course, now the enemy had the flocks as well. "This was no
mountain cat," Andy replied hotly. "It was white." "Late snow
drift." "Snow drifts
don't move. There, in the underbrush. Tell me you didn't see that?" Phen leaned
forward again. "Maybe." He shook his head. "It was
probably just an owl or somethin'. Anyway you're relieved, go get
some sleep." "Shouldn't I
report it?" Phen shrugged. "Go
ahead, if you want everyone to say you're seein' giant, sheep
killin', jackrabbit mountain cats again." "Drop dead." "Just givin'
you a friendly warning." "Yeah, sure."
With some reluctance, Andy turned away but, as he did, the flash of
white caught his eyes again, another twenty yards to the west.
Something was out there, it was circling them, and it wasn't no owl. * * * He spotted it
again the next night, this time to the east. Throughout his shift he
watched it wink in and out of the trees, moving incredibly quickly,
east to west and back again. Then, just before Phen relieved him, it
crested the top of a small hill, rose up, and pawed the air with its
forelegs, silver hooves gleaming in the moonlight. * * * "It's a
horse." Andy made his
announcement to Phen as they lined up for chow the next morning. "Not a
mountain cat, then." "I said it's
a horse." "Probably one
of theirs set out on a hobble to eat grass." "It wasn't
hobbled." "Maybe it
escaped, then." "I don't
think so." "Then I guess
it musta been a ghost horse."
"Aw, shut up,
Phen." * * * Ernie was no more
help when he told him that afternoon. "Mountain
pony," he pronounced. "Aren't they
usually brown?" "Yep." "Have you
ever seen a white mountain pony?"
"Nope." "Then it
can't be a mountain pony." "Must be a
ghost horse, then. Or me'be a mountain cat, eh?" Andy gave up. * * * He watched the
horse pace back and forth from west to east for another full shift,
then finally reported it to the sergeant-at-arms. * * * The older man
frowned thoughtfully. "How long you
been seein' it?" "Three nights
now." "And you're
sure it's a horse?" Andy clamped his
mouth closed on an imprudent reply. "Yes, Sarge." "Hm. Garet
Barns thought he saw somethin' white to the east last night as well." "Garet?" "Yeah. Your
fightin' partner's been on the south wall these last three nights
now." He stood. "Well, there's nothin' for it. I'd better
go see for myself. You're sure it's not a mountain cat this time?" Andy snapped his
teeth together. "No, Sarge." * * * That night the
sergeant stood watch beside him as the white horse flashed between
the trees. Finally it crested the hill again, pawing the air in
agitation before disappearing once again. "It`s so
fast," Andy whispered in awe. "I've never seen anything
move so fast." "Hm. Funny
how the enemy hasn't spotted it," the older man mused. "You don't
figure it's really a ghost horse, do you, Sarge?" Andy asked,
trying to mask the uneasiness in his voice. "No." "So, it
wouldn't be there to..." He trailed off.
"To what?" "Well...my
da, he died in the mountains. Maybe it...you know." "Maybe it's
come to take you off to join him?"
"Maybe." "No."
The sergeant gave him what amounted to a reassuring show of teeth.
"Your da was a good man and a brave soldier, but he'd have
rather faced that lot down there single-handed than get up on the
back of a horse, ghost or otherwise. And he sure wouldn't have sent
one for you. No, that there's something else altogether." "What?" "Well, that
remains to be seen." He turned. "Keep your eyes on the
enemy," he ordered tersely. "They're a lot more dangerous
than...whatever that is out there. You understand?" "Yes, Sarge." His jaw tight, the
sergeant headed for the south ramparts. * * * By the next
morning everyone wanted to hear about "Andy's latest mountain
cat." Finally he'd taken a swing at Mac Rellden and they'd
backed off a little. Leaving him in the tender care of Norma and
Ernie, Phen took their bowls to the chow line. * * * "So, what's
this slop s'posed to be?" Norma's brother
Ham glared at his bowl. The garrison cook shot him a resentful look
back. "It's beans,
mister, and you should be glad to get 'em. Stores are running low.
Pretty soon you'll be looking at yer boots and wondering how to I can
cook 'em up." Phen laughed.
"That would break the siege double quick. We all die from the
fumes." Ham glared at him
as everyone about them laughed. "Hey, heads
up, the Commander." There was a hushed
silence over the chow line as Commander Dravin strode across the
parade ground. Those seated made to stand, but he waved them down
again. A tall man in his
late twenties, Dravin had been the late Commander Beckwin's
lieutenant for four years before an infected tooth had taken the old
man to his reward. He was not an imposing officer, but rather one who
carried an air of practical confidence that inspired the same
confidence in others. Today his eyes were shadowed with fine worry
lines, but he smiled easily as Phen and Harn saluted. "How's the
food?" "The same,
sir," Phen replied. "Have some?" "No thank
you, Mister Royn, I've already eaten. The last of the turnips I'm
afraid, privilege of rank. But ask me again tomorrow." "No sign of
relief column yet, sir?" Ham asked bluntly. "None as yet,
Corporal, but Bess Taws got through. King Valdemar will be here any
day now. And then there'll be roast lamb and fresh bread instead of
beans and turnips," he said loudly his voice pitched to take in
the gathered soldiers. They grinned back at him, raising their spoons
in salute. "Have you seen Ander Harrow?" he asked in a
quieter tone. Phen nodded. "Yes,
sir. Andy!" When the youth
came forward, the commander indicated the north wall with a turn of
his head. "Walk with me." * * * "It's a
Companion."
"Sir?" "A Companion,
Mister Harrow. One of the Saviors of Valdemar who came in answer to
the prayers of the King himself." Andy squinted up
at his commander. "I've heard stories of 'em, sir, but don't
they always travel with Heralds?" "They do." "I didn't see
no Herald, sir." "No." "Do you
think...they killed its Herald?" "No. If its
Herald had been killed, it wouldn't be pacing the garrison. It would
have returned to the Companion's Field if it hadn't died as well. No,
I believe it's here to choose a Herald, Mister Harrow. It just can't
get close enough to do it." The Commander stared into space for
a moment. "Did you get any kind of feeling when you first saw
it?" he asked finally. "Sir?" "A feeling,
like it was calling to you or trying to draw you away from the
garrison?" Andy glanced up at
him in alarm. "No, sir."
"No sense of
familiarity or purpose?" "No, sir." "Hm."
His gray eyes cleared. "Never mind. I'm sure we'll find out who
it's come for soon enough. Thank you, Mister Harrow." "Sir." "Well, if
it's come to choose a Herald out of this garrison its got bloody poor
timing," Norma pronounced a few minutes later. "And bloody
poor taste if it wants Andy here," Phen added with a laugh. "No one said
it wanted me," Andy snapped back with unusual vehemence. "It
could want anyone." "They usually
Choose the young," Ham answered thoughtfully, digging a grubby
bit of wood from behind his ear. After a moment's scrutiny, he began
to pick his back teeth with it. "And you're the youngest we've
got," he finished. "There's
Garet. He's even seen it. And Tara's only two years older'n him." "None of them
have your sparkling personality, though." "Shut up,
Phen." "Hey, really.
It'll look into your eyes, then carry you away from all of this to
Haven with its soft beds and clean sheets and you'll forget all about
us." "I said, shut
up!" Ernie shot him a
curious glance but Norma just shook her head. "Don't you wanna
be a Herald, boy?" Andy jerked to his
feet. "Want's got nuthin' to do with it," he almost
shouted. "It's not me, all right!" Norma made to
answer, but Ernie laid his hand on her arm. "Sure, lad.
It's all right." * * * He sought him out
an hour later. Andy was sitting with his back against the west
barracks, stropping his dagger hard enough to raise sparks. Hitching
up his pants, the older man squatted down beside him. "So, what's
what?" "Nuthin'." "Bollocks." "Really,
nuthin'. I just don't want everyone on my back when it turns out it
wants someone else."
"Why would it
want someone else?" "Because
there's dozens it could want: Garet, Tara,Mac, maybe even you."
His tone was challenging, but Ernie just snorted. "Doubt that,
somehow." "Still. For
all we know it might even want one of them." He jerked his head
past the wall. "None of
them's from Valdemar." "So?" "So, it
matters. No boy, it's one of us. An' if it's you, it's you, and you
go." "Why?" "Because
that's what your folks'd want. Neither one of them ever shrank from
their duty, and you'll not either. We'll miss you and you'll miss us,
but you'll go." Andy glared at him
resentfully but didn't debate the unusually long speech. He just dove
the dagger into its sheath and stood up. "Doesn't
matter anyway, does it? I can't get to it and it can't get to me." Ernie gave him a
neutral look. "Me'be." * * * The next night
everyone wanted to see "Andy's Companion." They crowded the
walls and betting was brisk with two to one odds on Andy, three to
one on Garet, five to one on Tara, and ten to one on Mac. Someone
even placed a bet on the garrison cook with the hope he'd be taken
away. Finally, the sergeant chased them off. Betting continued in the
barracks and across the parade ground and discussion was heated on
how to bring the Companion and its new Herald together. Most favored
a break-out fight with the four hopefuls in the middle, some wanted
to sneak out in the middle of the night, and Phen suggested building
a catapult and throwing first Andy, then the other three, over the
walls, one at a time. Both Tara and Mac took the teasing well, and
even Garet unbent long enough to reply, that as long as Andy went
first, it was all right with him. Andy, however, refused to be drawn
into the joke. He'd been quiet
and withdrawn all day, spending much of his time alone. At supper he
answered Norma's questions with grunts and ignored Phen completely.
When it came time for his shift, he took the stairs like he was
climbing to the gallows. As the moon rose, he watched the illusive
creature that might turn his life upside down flit back and forth
through the trees, then turned away. The next morning,
Norma and Ernie went to see the commander.
"It's about
that Companion, sir," Norma began. "Yes?" "Well, sir,
we was wondering..." She glanced at Ernie who widened his eyes
expectantly at her. "The thing
is, sir," she continued, "the sergeant-at-arms, he says
they, the Companions, are smart, that they can talk to each other and
to their Heralds like." "Yes." "So we was
wondering why, if it is a Companion and all, and if it's so smart,
how come it's been pacing around the garrison for four days instead
of high-tailing itself off to get help. We could sure use the help
and that would bring it to its Chosen a lot faster." Commander Dravin
leaned back thoughtfully. "As I understand it, Corporal, the
Companions are extremely...single-minded when they search for their
Chosen. It would likely be totally abhorrent to it to leave once it
had located that Chosen, even to get help." "Right, sir,
that's what we figured. Also, the sergeant-at-arms, he says that
they're magical, that they know things, so maybe, it knows something
about us." "Meaning?" "That maybe
it knows we're gonna bring its Chosen to it." The Commander's
eyes narrowed. "Go on." "Well, sir,
the thing is, we know it's here for one of us, and most of us figure
it's Andy, him or one of the other three under twenty-five. Also..."
she glanced at Ernie. "Also?"
the Commander prodded. "Also,"
Ernie answered, "though I'd like nuthin' more than to believe my
Bessie got through, the truth is she'd have reached Haven long before
now, and the King would have got word back to us somehow, if only to
keep our spirits up." "Don't you
think, sir?" Norma prodded. The commander
looked away for just a moment, then back, his expression weary.
"Yes." "And we're
running out of food, sir. This time a month from now, we'll be in a
desperate place, and they'll be that much stronger. So," Norma's
eyes brightened. "We had a thought, see. The garrison's at full
strength now, decently fed and itchin' for a fight. You won't ever
find us more determined than right now. We've got it into our heads,
all of us, to see this Companion and one of our own matched up. So,
we take the fight outside, all of us, in one mad rush, and we bring
that Companion its Chosen. The enemy'll never know what hit 'em." The commander
smiled faintly. "You realize they outnumber us at least five to
one, Corporal? That most of us would never survive this mad rush?" "At least
we'd go down fightin', sir, and we know, too, that even if we do beat
'em this time, they'll be back with reinforcements. That's why it's
so important to get word to King Valdemar. We figured a Companion'd
have the best chance of anyone to get through, I mean It's been
dancin' about their perimeter for nearly a week now and they ain't
noticed it yet." "True." "And
besides," Ernie added, "a Herald'd be a fine legacy for
Trance Tower, don't you think, sir?" Commander Dravin
glanced from one old veteran to the other, then nodded slowly. "Yes, I do."
The Commander sent
for Andy, Garet, Tara, and Mac an hour later. He came straight to the
point. "We're going
to attack the enemy at dawn tomorrow," he said bluntly. "With
everything we've got. Once outside, the four of you have one
objective only, regardless of who might fall around you, to find that
Companion. When you do, I don't care which of you is Chosen, you're
to make for Haven at once, all of you. Obviously the one riding will
quickly outstrip the others, but I want you all heading south at
double time, is that clear?" The four glanced
hesitantly at each other. "But
shouldn't the others join the fight after one of us is Chosen, sir?"
Andy asked. "You'll need all the swords you can get." "Maybe so,
but those are my orders, Mister Harrow." "But...sir,
what if it doesn't choose any of us," Tara asked. "Then it's up
to the Companion to find its Chosen on its own. We can't line up for
it, can we?" No, sir." "Whatever
happens, the four of you are to make for Haven, period. Someone has
to get through."
"Yes, sir." That night the
five remaining members of Gray Squad stood on the north wall
together, watching the future of Trance Tower flit gracefully between
the trees. Is movements were blindingly fast, one minute appearing to
the east, the next to the west, but somehow it seemed less agitated
tonight, as if it knew the decision they'd made. Word of the
morning's attack had spread quickly and all along the walls, the
garrison watched the Companion move in reverent silence. Finally Phen
stirred faintly. "Is it my
imagination or has it come closer than it was?" Ernie nodded. "It
has." "It sure is
pretty." "Yep." "Think we
should give Andy here a bath first thing tomorrow? We can't hardly
have a grubby little scrub like him representin' Trance Tower like
that, now can we?" "Leave him
be, Phen," Norma admonished. "To-night's not the time for
teasin'." She turned. "You got the drink, Ham?" "Yeah." "Get it out,
then." Ham pulled a dark,
brown bottle from his pack. He uncorked it in one swift motion, then
passed it over. Norma held it up and the smell of brandy wafted out
on the breeze to tickle against their nostrils. "Compliments
of the commander," she said. "Now, to us, eh? For years of
loyal service, every one of us, and to Jem and Karl. They'd have been
proud of the job we did on their boy whatever happens in the
mornin'." She took a deep drink, then passed it to Ernie. "To duty.
Ham?" "To Ander
Harrow. Phen?" The younger man
smiled. "To mountain cats, and to Companions." Finally the bottle
passed to Andy. He held it cradled in his hands for a log time until
Norma nudged him. "C'mon, boy,
finish the toast." Andy held the
bottle up, feeling the liquid inside slosh about inside. "To
Trance Tower Garrison," he said thickly. "I never thought
I'd..." he stopped, his jaw working, "I never thought I'd
have to leave it, but if I do, I will." He took an abrupt drink,
then turned away so the others couldn't see his face. "Good
enough," Ernie answered. * * * The next day
dawned cool and damp. The cook doled out the last of the potatoes
fried up with the last of the mutton, then the garrison lined up,
weapons ready, facing the main gate. Commander Dravin sat on his
horse before them, his swords drawn. He didn't speak, just cast his
gaze across the faces of his soldiers as if memorizing their
features, then nodded once. The sergeant-at-arms gave the order, the
gate was flung open, and Trance Tower Garrison attacked. * * * The enemy was
surprised, but not for long. It rallied quickly and then it was
hand-to-hand combat on the northern plain. Protected at the
center of the Gray Squad, Andy moved as fast as he could for the
foothills. Somewhere out there he knew the others were doing the
same, ringed by a circle of swords and spears. They made three
hundred yards, then four, then five, before by sheer weight of
numbers the enemy penetrated their defenses. Ham was the first to
fall. Then Phen. When Norma went down, Andy leaped forward, but a
great ax-wielding man jumped between them and, with a scream, Andy
closed with him. He never saw Ernie take the blow aimed for his back,
but he heard him fall. The battle raged
unabated throughout the morning. Trance Tower had something to fight
for now and they broke wave after wave of enemy troops sent against
them. In the face of their ferocity, the enemy began to falter, and
when a white flash entered the fray, kicking and slashing with hooves
like silver lightning, they broke and ran. The cry went up,
"For the Herald!" as Commander Dravin led Trance Tower
Garrison after them. Two hundred yards
from the foothills, Andy sank to his knees in relief.
It seemed like
hours later than he managed to struggle to his feet and survey the
damage though it was really only a few moments. Ham was dead, Ernie
was dying, and Phen was so badly wounded that he probably wouldn't
last the day, but what was probably worse, Tara and Mac lay together
on the northernmost edge of the battlefield. They'd almost made it to
the hills. Almost. Breathing hard,
Andy knelt beside Norma. Taking her hand in his, he squeezed her
bloodied fingers until her eyelids fluttered open. "Did we beat
'em?" she asked hoarsely. He nodded, his
gaze blurred by tears. "Yeah."
"Then...what
are you waitin' for? Git." "I can't
leave you like this." "I'll mend.
Takes more than the likes...of them to put an Anzie in her grave. I
said, git." There was a
whicker behind them and Andy turned slowly. Twenty paces away
the Companion stood, staring at him with its brilliant blue eyes.
This close, it was dazzingly white in the sunlight and he could
barely look at it without squinting. He moved forward. The Companion and
the Guardsman looked into each other's eyes for a long time, and then
Andy's mouth quirked up. "I told them
it wasn't me," he whispered, his tone a combination of relief
and disappointment. The Companion
turned its attention away, sweeping its bight gaze over the
battlefield, clearly searching, then turned back to stare into Andy's
face once again. He nodded his
understanding. "Yes," he said, laying one weary hand on its
back. "I'll help you find that Herald of yours." * * * They reached Garet
Barns a few moments later. He was lying on his back, his eyes wide
with shock, his hands pressed tight against his side. Blood seeped
through his uniform tunic to pool darkly beneath him. His face was
ashen, but when he looked up into the Companion's eyes, a bit of the
color returned. Andy shook his
head. "Shoulda known." He knelt. "C'mon, lemme see
it." His gaze still
locked on the Companion's eyes, Garet allowed the other youth to
examine the wound. "It's not
terrible," Andy pronounced after a minute. Taking off his own
tunic, he used his knife to cut his shirt into strips, then bound up
the wound. "All right, let's get you up. That lot won't keep
runnin' all day." Arms wrapped about the other's chest, he drew
Garet to his feet. The Companion knelt and somehow Andy managed to
get him onto its back. It stood carefully. Then, one hand holding the
other youth by the belt, Andy nodded. "Let's go." They made their
way slowly across the battlefield, careful not to step on any of the
wounded. Friend and foe alike watched them go in silence, and the
ones that could, saluted as they passed. They reached the
south road without incident. Still shocky, Garet rode without
speaking and, deep in his own thoughts, Andy hardly noticed his
surroundings until a white blur flashed between them and a stand of
pine trees. Looking up, Andy stared straight into a pair of brilliant
sapphire eyes. The world fell away beneath the intensity of its gaze
and all he could think to say was, "Oh. There were two of you." The second
Companion whickered softly. After a few moments it nudged him gently.
Then it nudged him harder. :Chosen?: The first
Companion pawed the ground and Garet stirred. "Andy? The
garrison? We have to keep moving." "Right." Shaking himself
out of his stupor, Andy carefully mounted up. They had miles to
travel before he could pause to wonder at the sudden change in his
life. They had to get to the capital, warn King Valdemar, and come
back with an army to save what was left of Trance Tower, but suddenly
it all seemed possible. Smiling down at...Lillia, he nodded. "All right.
I'm ready to go now." Together, they
headed down the south road toward Haven.
TRANCE
TOWER GARRISON by
Fiona Patton Fiona
Patton was born in Calgary Alberta in 1962 and grew up in the United
States. In 1975 she returned to Canada, and after several jobs which
had nothing to do with each other, including carnival ride operator
and electrician, moved to 75 acres of scrub land in rural Ontario
with her partner, four—now six-cats of various sizes and one
tiny little dog. Her first book, The Stone Prince, was
published by DAW Books in 1997. This was followed by The Painter
Knight in 1998, The Granite Shield in 1999, and The
Golden Sword in 2001, also by DAW. She is currently working on
her next novel. The Ice Wall
Mountains were ablaze with color. The pink-and-orange glow of the
setting sun crowned the tops of the pine trees and feathered across
the foot-hills and plains like wisps of fire. It settled over the
slate roofs of Trance Tower Garrison, the northern-most outpost of
King Valdemar's young realm, and gleamed off the pikes and helmets of
the surrounding force which had poured through the mountain passes at
the first hint of spring. Standing on the
eastern ramparts, Corporal Norma Anzie of Gray Squad, one of Trance
Tower's senior sentinels, spat toward the ground. "That's one
big friggin' army," she noted sourly. The gray-haired
man standing beside her gave a brief nod. "Yep." "And it looks
like they're plannin' to stay."
"Yep." "A long
time." "Me'be." She glared over at
him. "Don't be strainin' your voice box now, Ernie." He shrugged.
"Me'be not so long," he elaborated after a moment. "How do you
figure?" "The King'll
send help." "Only if he
gets word." "Bessie got
through." "You don't
know that." His eyes narrowed.
"She got through," he growled. Raising her hands,
Norma dropped the subject. After the first trickle of soldiers had
come over the mountains, the garrison commander had sent his
lieutenant galloping for the capital. As the trickle'd become a
flood, he'd sent half a dozen more. All but one, Ernie's niece, Bess
Taws, had been returned to them as a headless corpse thrown down
before the gate—including the lieutenant. Bess was their only
hope but, after nearly a month with no sign of aid, only Ernie still
believed she'd made it through. Her expression grim, Norma squinted
southward. "How long do
you figure it takes to get to Haven?" she asked. Ernie shrugged.
"Ridin' hard, eight, me'be nine days." "Less if she
could get a boat down the Terilee River." "Yep." "How long to
raise a relief force?" "Dunno.
Depends." "A couple of
weeks?" "More like a
couple of months, me'be." With a scowl,
Norma peered up at the tiny line of enemy troops bringing supplies
over the mountains. With the harsh northern winter just past, Trance
Tower's own stores were low. If it took another month, it wouldn't
matter if Bess had gotten through or not. The garrison would be out
of food. "You'd think
there'd have been a paymaster or a supply wagon or somethin' come
from Haven before now, anyway," she snarled. "Me'be there
has been," Ernie answered in an ominous voice. As one, they
glanced toward the main gate. Neither could see the dark, fly-covered
bloodstains from where they stood but that didn't stop them from
looking. "How long
before they'd be due back do you figure someone might go lookin' for
them?" "Dunno. A
while, I guess." Returning her
attention to the force below, Norma shook her head. "With a
friggin' army that big," she muttered, "you'd think
somebody would've noticed it by now." Ernie just
shrugged. The sound of
shouting pulled their attention back inside the garrison. "What
the...?" From their vantage
point they could see a knot of people behind the west barracks,
shouting at—cheering on—Norma amended, two struggling
figures. There was a glint of golden hair as one had his head knocked
back from a well-placed blow, and Ernie swore. "Garet!" "Blast! You
know that means Andy." Ernie was already
halfway to the stairs. "Little . . .
I told him . . . come on," he puffed angrily. * * * Andy ducked a wild
swing, drove his fists into the other youth's unprotected right side
in a quick flurry of blows, then danced back with a tight smile.
Although Garet was older and larger than he, no one at Trance Tower
was faster. Around him, the growing crowd began to chant his name,
and the smile snapped off. Time to finish this before the noise drew
the wrath of the sergeant-at-arms down on them. He pressed forward. Sixteen-year-old
Ander Harrow had been born in the garrison. His mother had died in
childbirth and his father and three others had been caught in a
rock-slide when he was nine. Jem and Karl Harrow's remaining
squad-mates had raised the boy together, bringing him into the Guard
at twelve, protecting him, teaching him, but mostly just trying to
keep him out of trouble. Garet Barns had
joined the garrison two years before, and although they were not
friends, at eighteen he was the closest to Andy's own age, which
meant that when Andy was bored or just itching to cause mischief he
either sought Garet out to manipulate him into some scheme, or goad
him into a fight. Garet had a quick temper that could always be
counted on to flare up with the right words and Andy always knew the
right words. Now, his blue eyes
narrowed, Garet watched the other youth weave back and forth in a
parody of feints and counter feints, then struck out. His fist
connected right where he planned. Andy went flying into the crowd. The blood on his
face gleaming as brightly as his dark eyes, Andy showed his teeth to
his opponent in recognition of the blow, then leaped up, only to be
jerked off his feet once again. "What the
blue blazes do you think you're playin' at!" Her fist wrapped
in the back of his shirt, Norma shook him like a dog with a rat in
its teeth. "Haven't we
told you half a hundred times, no more fightin'?" Behind them, Ernie
stepped in front of Garet, who simply wiped the blood from his nose
with an even expression. Andy gave Norma a disarming smile. "It was just
a boxing match." "Bollocks!" "Really.
Something to pass the time and keep fit, right Garet?" Andy turned his
wide-eyed gaze on the other youth who just shrugged. "Sure,
whatever." "I'll show
you fit, I'll toss you off the north wall. Then we'll see how bloody
fit you are with half them bastards out there chasin' you." "Now there's
an idea." All eyes turned to
see the sergeant-at-arms leaning against the barracks, his expression
dark. "Don't you lot have somewhere else to be?" he asked
with dangerous politeness. The area was
suddenly empty of spectators. He turned back to
the two combatants. "Barns, K.P. Harrow, latrines. Don't,"
he held up one thick finger as Andy made to protest, "even think
about speakin', just git." When the two
youths were out of earshot, Norma gave the sergeant a sideways
glance. "That was
kinda lenient for you, wasn't it, Lom?"
He shrugged.
"There's little enough to keep up morale these days, might as
well make use of what distractions we've got. Keep him outta my sight
for a while, though, I might have a change of heart." "We'll put
him on night watch," Ernie answered. "That should tire him
out some." "Good idea.
Barns can take a turn as well." * * * That night Andy
stood on the north wall staring out at the nearly full moon. The
afternoon had been a partial success, he'd blown off some steam,
satisfied himself that Garet was no better a fighter than he, and
stirred up everyone's blood a bit. Since the enemy had bottled up
Trance Tower, the entire garrison was walking around like they'd
already lost. The air of doom and gloom was getting thick enough to
cut with a knife. Eyes narrowed, he glared down at the surrounding
campfires. So they were temporarily cut off from the rest of
Valdemar, so supplies were tight. Bessie would be back any day with
an army at her back and then they'd send this lot packing back over
the mountains double quick. His stomach
growled, and he rubbed it in rueful acknowledgment of its point. All
right, so they were in a tight spot—the quartermaster already
had them down to half rations— but they weren't beat yet, not
by a long shot. The enemy wasn't so tough. If they were, they'd have
taken Trance Tower already instead of just sitting out there with
their thumbs up...a movement below the wall made him stiffen. He
stared into the darkness for a long time, but eventually relaxed. It
was probably just a night-bird. He returned his attention to the
enemy. Nobody knew who
they were. The standards and banners they carried were unfamiliar and
the language their single envoy had spoken was gibberish even to the
commander; although the body he'd brought with him had spoken his
message clearly enough: surrender Trance Tower. Andy spat over the
wall in unconscious imitation of Norma. Not in this lifetime or any
other, he swore silently. His parents had died for this garrison and
no bunch of pike-wielding sons of whoevers were going to defile their
memories. They could sit out there until moss grew over them. Trance
Tower would never surrender no matter how hungry they got. His stomach
rumbled mournfully. "Aw, shut
up." Leaning against
the parapet, he stared out past the dark bulk of the surrounding
army. The moon was low in the sky, shining down on the lightly wooded
foothills. He'd hunted rabbits in those hills with Phen Royn and Harn
Anzie every year since he was ten years old. They should have been
out half a dozen times already this spring instead of standing on the
walls watching the enemy move about like they owned the place. Andy
grimaced. Their hunters had probably already stripped the hills of
rabbits. They were probably sitting around their campfires right now
eating roast rabbit and rabbit stew and rabbit pie and... Something white
flashed in the distant trees. He frowned. Ground lightning? It flashed again
and, risking arrow-shot from below, he leaned forward. Something was
moving in the hills beyond the enemy, moving fast. He saw it again
some twenty yards west of where he'd spotted it the first time. Then
again a few moments later farther still. It sparkled in the moonlight
for just an instant., its half hidden form vaguely familiar, then it
disappeared again. "What'cha you
doin', boy?" He jumped.
Spinning about, he shot a glare at Phen, who held out his canteen
with a chuckle. "Lookin' at
somethin'," he growled back. "What?
Someone takin' a piss?" Phen risked a glance over the edge. "No.
Somethin' strange. There." He pointed. "Where?" "Past the
troops to the west. Somethin's movin' out there like it's circlin'
around us." Phen peered into
the darkness. "I don't see
nothin'." He turned with a grin. "You imaginin' mountain
cats again?" Three years ago
Andy had been certain there'd been a mountain cat stalking the
garrison flocks. He'd even found tracks, but they'd turned out to
belong to a particularly big jackrabbit. Phen had never let him
forget it. Of course, now the enemy had the flocks as well. "This was no
mountain cat," Andy replied hotly. "It was white." "Late snow
drift." "Snow drifts
don't move. There, in the underbrush. Tell me you didn't see that?" Phen leaned
forward again. "Maybe." He shook his head. "It was
probably just an owl or somethin'. Anyway you're relieved, go get
some sleep." "Shouldn't I
report it?" Phen shrugged. "Go
ahead, if you want everyone to say you're seein' giant, sheep
killin', jackrabbit mountain cats again." "Drop dead." "Just givin'
you a friendly warning." "Yeah, sure."
With some reluctance, Andy turned away but, as he did, the flash of
white caught his eyes again, another twenty yards to the west.
Something was out there, it was circling them, and it wasn't no owl. * * * He spotted it
again the next night, this time to the east. Throughout his shift he
watched it wink in and out of the trees, moving incredibly quickly,
east to west and back again. Then, just before Phen relieved him, it
crested the top of a small hill, rose up, and pawed the air with its
forelegs, silver hooves gleaming in the moonlight. * * * "It's a
horse." Andy made his
announcement to Phen as they lined up for chow the next morning. "Not a
mountain cat, then." "I said it's
a horse." "Probably one
of theirs set out on a hobble to eat grass." "It wasn't
hobbled." "Maybe it
escaped, then." "I don't
think so." "Then I guess
it musta been a ghost horse."
"Aw, shut up,
Phen." * * * Ernie was no more
help when he told him that afternoon. "Mountain
pony," he pronounced. "Aren't they
usually brown?" "Yep." "Have you
ever seen a white mountain pony?"
"Nope." "Then it
can't be a mountain pony." "Must be a
ghost horse, then. Or me'be a mountain cat, eh?" Andy gave up. * * * He watched the
horse pace back and forth from west to east for another full shift,
then finally reported it to the sergeant-at-arms. * * * The older man
frowned thoughtfully. "How long you
been seein' it?" "Three nights
now." "And you're
sure it's a horse?" Andy clamped his
mouth closed on an imprudent reply. "Yes, Sarge." "Hm. Garet
Barns thought he saw somethin' white to the east last night as well." "Garet?" "Yeah. Your
fightin' partner's been on the south wall these last three nights
now." He stood. "Well, there's nothin' for it. I'd better
go see for myself. You're sure it's not a mountain cat this time?" Andy snapped his
teeth together. "No, Sarge." * * * That night the
sergeant stood watch beside him as the white horse flashed between
the trees. Finally it crested the hill again, pawing the air in
agitation before disappearing once again. "It`s so
fast," Andy whispered in awe. "I've never seen anything
move so fast." "Hm. Funny
how the enemy hasn't spotted it," the older man mused. "You don't
figure it's really a ghost horse, do you, Sarge?" Andy asked,
trying to mask the uneasiness in his voice. "No." "So, it
wouldn't be there to..." He trailed off.
"To what?" "Well...my
da, he died in the mountains. Maybe it...you know." "Maybe it's
come to take you off to join him?"
"Maybe." "No."
The sergeant gave him what amounted to a reassuring show of teeth.
"Your da was a good man and a brave soldier, but he'd have
rather faced that lot down there single-handed than get up on the
back of a horse, ghost or otherwise. And he sure wouldn't have sent
one for you. No, that there's something else altogether." "What?" "Well, that
remains to be seen." He turned. "Keep your eyes on the
enemy," he ordered tersely. "They're a lot more dangerous
than...whatever that is out there. You understand?" "Yes, Sarge." His jaw tight, the
sergeant headed for the south ramparts. * * * By the next
morning everyone wanted to hear about "Andy's latest mountain
cat." Finally he'd taken a swing at Mac Rellden and they'd
backed off a little. Leaving him in the tender care of Norma and
Ernie, Phen took their bowls to the chow line. * * * "So, what's
this slop s'posed to be?" Norma's brother
Ham glared at his bowl. The garrison cook shot him a resentful look
back. "It's beans,
mister, and you should be glad to get 'em. Stores are running low.
Pretty soon you'll be looking at yer boots and wondering how to I can
cook 'em up." Phen laughed.
"That would break the siege double quick. We all die from the
fumes." Ham glared at him
as everyone about them laughed. "Hey, heads
up, the Commander." There was a hushed
silence over the chow line as Commander Dravin strode across the
parade ground. Those seated made to stand, but he waved them down
again. A tall man in his
late twenties, Dravin had been the late Commander Beckwin's
lieutenant for four years before an infected tooth had taken the old
man to his reward. He was not an imposing officer, but rather one who
carried an air of practical confidence that inspired the same
confidence in others. Today his eyes were shadowed with fine worry
lines, but he smiled easily as Phen and Harn saluted. "How's the
food?" "The same,
sir," Phen replied. "Have some?" "No thank
you, Mister Royn, I've already eaten. The last of the turnips I'm
afraid, privilege of rank. But ask me again tomorrow." "No sign of
relief column yet, sir?" Ham asked bluntly. "None as yet,
Corporal, but Bess Taws got through. King Valdemar will be here any
day now. And then there'll be roast lamb and fresh bread instead of
beans and turnips," he said loudly his voice pitched to take in
the gathered soldiers. They grinned back at him, raising their spoons
in salute. "Have you seen Ander Harrow?" he asked in a
quieter tone. Phen nodded. "Yes,
sir. Andy!" When the youth
came forward, the commander indicated the north wall with a turn of
his head. "Walk with me." * * * "It's a
Companion."
"Sir?" "A Companion,
Mister Harrow. One of the Saviors of Valdemar who came in answer to
the prayers of the King himself." Andy squinted up
at his commander. "I've heard stories of 'em, sir, but don't
they always travel with Heralds?" "They do." "I didn't see
no Herald, sir." "No." "Do you
think...they killed its Herald?" "No. If its
Herald had been killed, it wouldn't be pacing the garrison. It would
have returned to the Companion's Field if it hadn't died as well. No,
I believe it's here to choose a Herald, Mister Harrow. It just can't
get close enough to do it." The Commander stared into space for
a moment. "Did you get any kind of feeling when you first saw
it?" he asked finally. "Sir?" "A feeling,
like it was calling to you or trying to draw you away from the
garrison?" Andy glanced up at
him in alarm. "No, sir."
"No sense of
familiarity or purpose?" "No, sir." "Hm."
His gray eyes cleared. "Never mind. I'm sure we'll find out who
it's come for soon enough. Thank you, Mister Harrow." "Sir." "Well, if
it's come to choose a Herald out of this garrison its got bloody poor
timing," Norma pronounced a few minutes later. "And bloody
poor taste if it wants Andy here," Phen added with a laugh. "No one said
it wanted me," Andy snapped back with unusual vehemence. "It
could want anyone." "They usually
Choose the young," Ham answered thoughtfully, digging a grubby
bit of wood from behind his ear. After a moment's scrutiny, he began
to pick his back teeth with it. "And you're the youngest we've
got," he finished. "There's
Garet. He's even seen it. And Tara's only two years older'n him." "None of them
have your sparkling personality, though." "Shut up,
Phen." "Hey, really.
It'll look into your eyes, then carry you away from all of this to
Haven with its soft beds and clean sheets and you'll forget all about
us." "I said, shut
up!" Ernie shot him a
curious glance but Norma just shook her head. "Don't you wanna
be a Herald, boy?" Andy jerked to his
feet. "Want's got nuthin' to do with it," he almost
shouted. "It's not me, all right!" Norma made to
answer, but Ernie laid his hand on her arm. "Sure, lad.
It's all right." * * * He sought him out
an hour later. Andy was sitting with his back against the west
barracks, stropping his dagger hard enough to raise sparks. Hitching
up his pants, the older man squatted down beside him. "So, what's
what?" "Nuthin'." "Bollocks." "Really,
nuthin'. I just don't want everyone on my back when it turns out it
wants someone else."
"Why would it
want someone else?" "Because
there's dozens it could want: Garet, Tara,Mac, maybe even you."
His tone was challenging, but Ernie just snorted. "Doubt that,
somehow." "Still. For
all we know it might even want one of them." He jerked his head
past the wall. "None of
them's from Valdemar." "So?" "So, it
matters. No boy, it's one of us. An' if it's you, it's you, and you
go." "Why?" "Because
that's what your folks'd want. Neither one of them ever shrank from
their duty, and you'll not either. We'll miss you and you'll miss us,
but you'll go." Andy glared at him
resentfully but didn't debate the unusually long speech. He just dove
the dagger into its sheath and stood up. "Doesn't
matter anyway, does it? I can't get to it and it can't get to me." Ernie gave him a
neutral look. "Me'be." * * * The next night
everyone wanted to see "Andy's Companion." They crowded the
walls and betting was brisk with two to one odds on Andy, three to
one on Garet, five to one on Tara, and ten to one on Mac. Someone
even placed a bet on the garrison cook with the hope he'd be taken
away. Finally, the sergeant chased them off. Betting continued in the
barracks and across the parade ground and discussion was heated on
how to bring the Companion and its new Herald together. Most favored
a break-out fight with the four hopefuls in the middle, some wanted
to sneak out in the middle of the night, and Phen suggested building
a catapult and throwing first Andy, then the other three, over the
walls, one at a time. Both Tara and Mac took the teasing well, and
even Garet unbent long enough to reply, that as long as Andy went
first, it was all right with him. Andy, however, refused to be drawn
into the joke. He'd been quiet
and withdrawn all day, spending much of his time alone. At supper he
answered Norma's questions with grunts and ignored Phen completely.
When it came time for his shift, he took the stairs like he was
climbing to the gallows. As the moon rose, he watched the illusive
creature that might turn his life upside down flit back and forth
through the trees, then turned away. The next morning,
Norma and Ernie went to see the commander.
"It's about
that Companion, sir," Norma began. "Yes?" "Well, sir,
we was wondering..." She glanced at Ernie who widened his eyes
expectantly at her. "The thing
is, sir," she continued, "the sergeant-at-arms, he says
they, the Companions, are smart, that they can talk to each other and
to their Heralds like." "Yes." "So we was
wondering why, if it is a Companion and all, and if it's so smart,
how come it's been pacing around the garrison for four days instead
of high-tailing itself off to get help. We could sure use the help
and that would bring it to its Chosen a lot faster." Commander Dravin
leaned back thoughtfully. "As I understand it, Corporal, the
Companions are extremely...single-minded when they search for their
Chosen. It would likely be totally abhorrent to it to leave once it
had located that Chosen, even to get help." "Right, sir,
that's what we figured. Also, the sergeant-at-arms, he says that
they're magical, that they know things, so maybe, it knows something
about us." "Meaning?" "That maybe
it knows we're gonna bring its Chosen to it." The Commander's
eyes narrowed. "Go on." "Well, sir,
the thing is, we know it's here for one of us, and most of us figure
it's Andy, him or one of the other three under twenty-five. Also..."
she glanced at Ernie. "Also?"
the Commander prodded. "Also,"
Ernie answered, "though I'd like nuthin' more than to believe my
Bessie got through, the truth is she'd have reached Haven long before
now, and the King would have got word back to us somehow, if only to
keep our spirits up." "Don't you
think, sir?" Norma prodded. The commander
looked away for just a moment, then back, his expression weary.
"Yes." "And we're
running out of food, sir. This time a month from now, we'll be in a
desperate place, and they'll be that much stronger. So," Norma's
eyes brightened. "We had a thought, see. The garrison's at full
strength now, decently fed and itchin' for a fight. You won't ever
find us more determined than right now. We've got it into our heads,
all of us, to see this Companion and one of our own matched up. So,
we take the fight outside, all of us, in one mad rush, and we bring
that Companion its Chosen. The enemy'll never know what hit 'em." The commander
smiled faintly. "You realize they outnumber us at least five to
one, Corporal? That most of us would never survive this mad rush?" "At least
we'd go down fightin', sir, and we know, too, that even if we do beat
'em this time, they'll be back with reinforcements. That's why it's
so important to get word to King Valdemar. We figured a Companion'd
have the best chance of anyone to get through, I mean It's been
dancin' about their perimeter for nearly a week now and they ain't
noticed it yet." "True." "And
besides," Ernie added, "a Herald'd be a fine legacy for
Trance Tower, don't you think, sir?" Commander Dravin
glanced from one old veteran to the other, then nodded slowly. "Yes, I do."
The Commander sent
for Andy, Garet, Tara, and Mac an hour later. He came straight to the
point. "We're going
to attack the enemy at dawn tomorrow," he said bluntly. "With
everything we've got. Once outside, the four of you have one
objective only, regardless of who might fall around you, to find that
Companion. When you do, I don't care which of you is Chosen, you're
to make for Haven at once, all of you. Obviously the one riding will
quickly outstrip the others, but I want you all heading south at
double time, is that clear?" The four glanced
hesitantly at each other. "But
shouldn't the others join the fight after one of us is Chosen, sir?"
Andy asked. "You'll need all the swords you can get." "Maybe so,
but those are my orders, Mister Harrow." "But...sir,
what if it doesn't choose any of us," Tara asked. "Then it's up
to the Companion to find its Chosen on its own. We can't line up for
it, can we?" No, sir." "Whatever
happens, the four of you are to make for Haven, period. Someone has
to get through."
"Yes, sir." That night the
five remaining members of Gray Squad stood on the north wall
together, watching the future of Trance Tower flit gracefully between
the trees. Is movements were blindingly fast, one minute appearing to
the east, the next to the west, but somehow it seemed less agitated
tonight, as if it knew the decision they'd made. Word of the
morning's attack had spread quickly and all along the walls, the
garrison watched the Companion move in reverent silence. Finally Phen
stirred faintly. "Is it my
imagination or has it come closer than it was?" Ernie nodded. "It
has." "It sure is
pretty." "Yep." "Think we
should give Andy here a bath first thing tomorrow? We can't hardly
have a grubby little scrub like him representin' Trance Tower like
that, now can we?" "Leave him
be, Phen," Norma admonished. "To-night's not the time for
teasin'." She turned. "You got the drink, Ham?" "Yeah." "Get it out,
then." Ham pulled a dark,
brown bottle from his pack. He uncorked it in one swift motion, then
passed it over. Norma held it up and the smell of brandy wafted out
on the breeze to tickle against their nostrils. "Compliments
of the commander," she said. "Now, to us, eh? For years of
loyal service, every one of us, and to Jem and Karl. They'd have been
proud of the job we did on their boy whatever happens in the
mornin'." She took a deep drink, then passed it to Ernie. "To duty.
Ham?" "To Ander
Harrow. Phen?" The younger man
smiled. "To mountain cats, and to Companions." Finally the bottle
passed to Andy. He held it cradled in his hands for a log time until
Norma nudged him. "C'mon, boy,
finish the toast." Andy held the
bottle up, feeling the liquid inside slosh about inside. "To
Trance Tower Garrison," he said thickly. "I never thought
I'd..." he stopped, his jaw working, "I never thought I'd
have to leave it, but if I do, I will." He took an abrupt drink,
then turned away so the others couldn't see his face. "Good
enough," Ernie answered. * * * The next day
dawned cool and damp. The cook doled out the last of the potatoes
fried up with the last of the mutton, then the garrison lined up,
weapons ready, facing the main gate. Commander Dravin sat on his
horse before them, his swords drawn. He didn't speak, just cast his
gaze across the faces of his soldiers as if memorizing their
features, then nodded once. The sergeant-at-arms gave the order, the
gate was flung open, and Trance Tower Garrison attacked. * * * The enemy was
surprised, but not for long. It rallied quickly and then it was
hand-to-hand combat on the northern plain. Protected at the
center of the Gray Squad, Andy moved as fast as he could for the
foothills. Somewhere out there he knew the others were doing the
same, ringed by a circle of swords and spears. They made three
hundred yards, then four, then five, before by sheer weight of
numbers the enemy penetrated their defenses. Ham was the first to
fall. Then Phen. When Norma went down, Andy leaped forward, but a
great ax-wielding man jumped between them and, with a scream, Andy
closed with him. He never saw Ernie take the blow aimed for his back,
but he heard him fall. The battle raged
unabated throughout the morning. Trance Tower had something to fight
for now and they broke wave after wave of enemy troops sent against
them. In the face of their ferocity, the enemy began to falter, and
when a white flash entered the fray, kicking and slashing with hooves
like silver lightning, they broke and ran. The cry went up,
"For the Herald!" as Commander Dravin led Trance Tower
Garrison after them. Two hundred yards
from the foothills, Andy sank to his knees in relief.
It seemed like
hours later than he managed to struggle to his feet and survey the
damage though it was really only a few moments. Ham was dead, Ernie
was dying, and Phen was so badly wounded that he probably wouldn't
last the day, but what was probably worse, Tara and Mac lay together
on the northernmost edge of the battlefield. They'd almost made it to
the hills. Almost. Breathing hard,
Andy knelt beside Norma. Taking her hand in his, he squeezed her
bloodied fingers until her eyelids fluttered open. "Did we beat
'em?" she asked hoarsely. He nodded, his
gaze blurred by tears. "Yeah."
"Then...what
are you waitin' for? Git." "I can't
leave you like this." "I'll mend.
Takes more than the likes...of them to put an Anzie in her grave. I
said, git." There was a
whicker behind them and Andy turned slowly. Twenty paces away
the Companion stood, staring at him with its brilliant blue eyes.
This close, it was dazzingly white in the sunlight and he could
barely look at it without squinting. He moved forward. The Companion and
the Guardsman looked into each other's eyes for a long time, and then
Andy's mouth quirked up. "I told them
it wasn't me," he whispered, his tone a combination of relief
and disappointment. The Companion
turned its attention away, sweeping its bight gaze over the
battlefield, clearly searching, then turned back to stare into Andy's
face once again. He nodded his
understanding. "Yes," he said, laying one weary hand on its
back. "I'll help you find that Herald of yours." * * * They reached Garet
Barns a few moments later. He was lying on his back, his eyes wide
with shock, his hands pressed tight against his side. Blood seeped
through his uniform tunic to pool darkly beneath him. His face was
ashen, but when he looked up into the Companion's eyes, a bit of the
color returned. Andy shook his
head. "Shoulda known." He knelt. "C'mon, lemme see
it." His gaze still
locked on the Companion's eyes, Garet allowed the other youth to
examine the wound. "It's not
terrible," Andy pronounced after a minute. Taking off his own
tunic, he used his knife to cut his shirt into strips, then bound up
the wound. "All right, let's get you up. That lot won't keep
runnin' all day." Arms wrapped about the other's chest, he drew
Garet to his feet. The Companion knelt and somehow Andy managed to
get him onto its back. It stood carefully. Then, one hand holding the
other youth by the belt, Andy nodded. "Let's go." They made their
way slowly across the battlefield, careful not to step on any of the
wounded. Friend and foe alike watched them go in silence, and the
ones that could, saluted as they passed. They reached the
south road without incident. Still shocky, Garet rode without
speaking and, deep in his own thoughts, Andy hardly noticed his
surroundings until a white blur flashed between them and a stand of
pine trees. Looking up, Andy stared straight into a pair of brilliant
sapphire eyes. The world fell away beneath the intensity of its gaze
and all he could think to say was, "Oh. There were two of you." The second
Companion whickered softly. After a few moments it nudged him gently.
Then it nudged him harder. :Chosen?: The first
Companion pawed the ground and Garet stirred. "Andy? The
garrison? We have to keep moving." "Right." Shaking himself
out of his stupor, Andy carefully mounted up. They had miles to
travel before he could pause to wonder at the sudden change in his
life. They had to get to the capital, warn King Valdemar, and come
back with an army to save what was left of Trance Tower, but suddenly
it all seemed possible. Smiling down at...Lillia, he nodded. "All right.
I'm ready to go now." Together, they
headed down the south road toward Haven.
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