Chapter 6

Sidorian Army Camp, Doree River, Empire of Lynese William lifted his foot into the stirrup and swung himself up onto the horse’s back. The bay gelding shifted nervously beneath him, picking up on his rider’s unease. There really wasn’t a reason to be nervous, yet. Unless the scouts his uncle had sent with Pembroke were less skilled than advertised, William wouldn’t see his first taste of battle for a day or more, depending on how quickly they made the ride back south after crossing the northern ford.

And yet, now that he was on his horse, wearing his armor, with a sword next to him, it felt real for the very first time. The screeching cry of a wyvern overhead made William glance up. The camp was bustling with activity as the army prepared to march. The wyvern was probably headed back to the small force left to guard their supply lines leading back to their ships, or maybe even all the way back to Starhaven with news of the upcoming battle. William took a deep breath, steadying his nerves.

A sudden, low hiss behind him to his left caused William to jerk the horse to the side, worried a snake or some other creature might have made its way underfoot. While it was unlikely that such would affect the horses, the animals were still wary of creatures and could panic and buck when startled by their appearance.

It wasn’t, however, a snake. Turning, he saw a giant war lizard. Fifteen hands tall, nearly ten feet long, with mottled green and brown scales that blended into camouflage patterns along its back and a pair of spiny protrusions running down the length of its neck. William had heard of, and even seen pictures of, war lizards, but he’d never seen one before. Most Sidorians, or even Lynesians, had never seen one. As far as he knew, they only lived on Thay, which made them their predominant mount, instead of horses, because of their hardy nature and the ability to go longer without water than a horse could ... a vital adaptation in their dry, hot climate.

Eskild sat atop this giant animal, his massive size amplified by that of his mount. Seeing the giant Thayan, William turned the horse toward the lizard, so he could talk to the man without shouting, only to jerk the horse almost immediately back as the war lizard snapped its jaws, baring several rows of serrated teeth.

“Keep your distance from Ghormbaan,” Eskild warned. “He’s good during battle, but if left idle, he becomes a little unpredictable. Best give him space lest you lose a hand ... or your head.”

William reined his horse back a few more steps, eyeing the war lizard warily. Its yellow, slit-pupiled eyes stared back unblinkingly. He could just imagine what those crushing jaws could do to a man.

“Just keep focused on the task at hand, and you’ll be fine,” Eskild said, repeating the mantra he’d been giving William for the last two days.

Before William could respond with the denial of nerves, as he did every time, horns blared, and men on horseback began to move.

“Here we go,” Eskild said, giving William a bright smile.

It was dark ... so dark William couldn’t see his hand in front of him, let alone the other men around him. They were still a distance away from the river, the sounds of its waters muffled by distance and the forest. No one spoke, and even the horses seemed to be holding their breath.

And then the thundering of hooves of horses returning at speed could be heard, followed by a piercing whistle.

Everyone had been prepared for the signal. Torches were lit here and there along the column, to keep the horses from running into a tree or otherwise killing their rider, and the entire column moved out. Five minutes later, the entire column exploded from the tree line and across the ford they’d been listening to for several hours while they waited for the scouts to complete their tasks. Near a copse of trees, a handful of scouts sat on horseback, lit torches in their hands, human signposts of where to go in the moonless night.

Crossing the river, William sucked in a breath, surprised by the grim sight that greeted him. Bodies lay strewn haphazardly across the ground; limp forms sprawled in awkward angles. He could almost feel more bodies beyond the torchlight. There had been dozens of Lynesian scouts, none of whom remained alive to contest their crossing.

William paused his horse, looking down at the bodies. The glassy stares of lifeless eyes seemed to follow his progress, reflecting the torchlight. A cluster of six scouts sat mounted behind the bodies, grins on their faces telling any who saw them who was responsible for the recent dead.

These were the first dead men that William had ever seen, not counting men lying in state, like his Uncle Gavric. That had been different. Gavric, and the few others he’d seen before, had been cleaned up, made to look as if they were simply sleeping. This was different. Raw.

“Keep up, lad!” Eskild called as he rode past, stirring William out of his thoughts.

William gave the bodies, then the scouts, one last glance and urged his horse on, following the column that began its hard ride south.

They rode on through the night and into the following morning, not at top speed but still pushing their horses hard. Finally, from his position at the rear of the column, William could make out the defenses arrayed around the rear of the fort, protecting the sloping ground behind it. While formidably built up with wood and earth, these bulwarks lacked the height and stone strength of the fort’s own walls.

Spurring his lathered horse forward, William advanced with the others toward the defenses. Ditches and sharpened stakes offered obstacles before the ramparts, but the column poured relentlessly onward. Arrows flew from the walls, thudding into the earth around them, taking some men off their horses, injured or dead.

Following the rest of the men, William spurred his horse on as he reached the first defense, a long trench filled with sharpened stakes. The land was against the defenders. They’d tried to narrow the approaches as best they could, laying out pits and trenches, but there’s a reason forts have high walls.

William clung tightly to the reins as his horse surged forward, powerful muscles bunching beneath him as it launched itself over the ditch. He landed hard, gritting his teeth against the jarring impact. All around, men were pouring across the obstacles, some thrown as their horses were struck by arrow or spear.

Arrows and spears continued to rain down, though the walls remained tantalizingly out of reach of their weapons. William hunched low, shield raised over his head. Ahead, the first ranks were over the final trench, inside the string of defensive works around the base of the fort.

The charge carried William forward as the Sidorian knights crashed against the Lynesian defenses around the base of the fort. All around William, men and horses screamed as they were cut down by spear and arrow. But momentum was on the Sidorians’ side as their heavy horses tore through the lightly armored men guarding the supporting breastworks around the fort.

A man stood in William’s path. A Lynesian, spear in his hand, his back turned to William as he tried to impale a Sidorian knight in front of him. William slashed out with his sword, cutting the Lynesian down from behind. His blade sliced through boiled leather and bit deep into the man’s back. With a gurgling cry, the spearman collapsed to the ground.

It was the first time he’d ever drawn blood in anger. The first time he’d cut a man. The first time he’d killed. But there was no time to dwell on it as another Lynesian soldier charged at William, sword raised high.

William spurred his horse forward to meet the attack. His sword swung up to parry the overhand strike. The blades rang out as they met. William’s arm jarred from the force of the blow. Gritting his teeth, he riposted quickly, driving his foe back.

The Lynesian recovered and came at him again, hard. His sword whirred through the air, nearly slipping past William’s defenses. William gave ground, backing his horse, trying to redirect the man’s desperate, wild attacks. Suddenly, the Lynesian’s chest exploded in a spray of gore. Eskild’s war lizard had struck without warning, appearing from somewhere in William’s periphery, as if out of thin air, with its terrible jaws clamping down over the swordsman’s shoulder and upper torso.