Chapter 8

"Alarm! Alarm!"

James awoke to shouting, to a bugle blaring. He shot up in the darkness, Ewa's bare arm unconsciously thrown off of him. Untangling his legs from hers, James swung his feet over onto the floor, standing as the girl began to rouse herself. Her voice was groggy.

"James. What..."

She had to still be half asleep, to use his name. He had made her whisper it as they had made love, the sounds almost more intimate than any touch. He turned, the outline of her soft form sitting up.

"I don't..."

The tent flap shot open, a soldier rushing in with a lantern. James raised his arm to shield his eyes as Ewa pulled the blanket to cover herself. The soldier jerkily bowed.

"Your Grace! They're waking the camp! We're to move out immediately!" Felek ran in, eyes wide. James could see him quickly look away from his sister. He ignored the boy, focusing on the guard.

"What is it?"

"I don't know," the soldier answered. "I..."

Another man entered the tent, a messenger. He dropped to one knee, head bowed.

"Your Grace! Captain Putaski sends word elves have been seen in the western woods. Our pickets have made contact. We're starting to cross the river immediately."

James closed his eyes. He wasn't ready for this. Standing nude before these people was nothing compared to how he felt trying to protect the nation around him. People were going to die ... and he could not stop it.

But he would try.

Shanna was fighting the armor straps as James tore out of his tent. The damned thing wasn't easy to put on, at least not yet. The yelling and shouting around her wasn't helping, her attention constantly pulled from the task at hand. A stampede of cavalry tore by, heading east, while a company of archers on the other side of the royal wagon ran west. Confusion.

"James!" she yelled. "What... ?"

He didn't hear her. The King was on a horse, not even his, and off before she could take a step towards him. Ewa, long hair a mess and dress only half on, was out of the tent a moment later, brother at her side carrying the baby basket given to them just the day before.

Damn it. What the fuck was going on?

"Captain!"

James reined in the horse, fighting the unfamiliar animal. Men lined the earthen wall before him, the dirt on this side formed into a fighting ledge. Others massed in formation on the open ground, archers, pikemen. Hussars, winged and un, stood near the open gate. Never had James felt such fear. Felt such tension around him. Almost having to force himself, he dropped from his mount. moving towards a gathering of officers. His guards, Duda and Nowak, fell in behind him.

"Captain Putaski! Report!"

The officers turned as one to him, surprised. Putaski, particularly, seemed shocked the King was here, instead of making his way into the forming line of wagons. He bowed, as did the others.

"Your Grace. You should get to safety..."

"I said I wanted your report, Captain. What's the situation?"

"Your Grace." James had come to realize that expression was not just one of respect. It was also a handy way to respond while not saying anything, giving one time to think of how to deal with the King. The Captain took a moment to do that now. "Your Grace, one of our patrols ran into an Elven unit within the one mile perimeter we had set up. It was larger than a scouting patrol. We have to prepare for the possibility that large units are on the way."

"Fuck."

"Exactly, Your Grace. You should get to safety."

James looked around. Saw every eye not watching the forest on him. He shook his head.

"It will be awhile before it's our turn to cross the bridge. Duda." He turned to his guard. "Send a runner back. Tell Ola to let me know when they're beginning the crossing." He wanted to tell Ewa. Tell her that he would be safe, to stay with the others. That he ... loved her. That would not look good, not be kingly. Such messages he had to trust she would read between the lines, that Ola would know what to do, what to say.

"Of course, Your Grace." Duda turned to find a messenger. James looked around, saw a crate. With a somewhat graceful move, he stepped up onto it. The raised eyebrows of the Captain were well worth it. James raised his arms.

"Soldiers of Poland!" His voice was loud. The sounds around him vanished, even the horses seeming to pause in their snorting. The men, almost as one, took a half step towards him. Except those on the wall, as that would have caused them to fall off the ledge. "Men, the ungodly Elves have woken me from my sleep, dragged me away from a beautiful woman. This ... is unforgivable!" Laughter broke from the ranks. Good. He pointed over the wall, to the dark forest beyond. "We will hold them. We will destroy all who would dare come between us and our women, our families. We will hold this line for as long as one wagon is on this side of the river. For as long as one child is in danger. Who do we fight for?"

"POLAND!" The roar of the men came loud, strong. He nodded.

"For Poland, I will stay with you men, until I am needed on the far side. For we are as open to attack there as we are here. Long live Poland!

"Hail King James!"

He jumped off the box, not waiting for the chant to die down. Figurehead he may be, but it would be a figurehead that inspired. Maybe, in time, even more. He walked over to the Captain.

"I'll stay here an hour or two."

"Yes ... Your Grace."

Shanna hated feeling useless.

All was abuzz around her, packing, panicking. She had no job, with regard to the wagon. She had offered to watch the babe, now apparently named Marik, but Ewa had shook her head, not wanting to risk even that separation from the child. Piotr and the other Hussar escorts were nowhere to be seen, off with James she assumed. Should she follow? And then what? She was no warrior. They fought with lances while on horseback, training she was not even close to starting. No, she would be useless, worse that useless. A burden to be protected.

What did that leave?

Shanna looked off towards the river. If she was on her own, she knew what she wanted to do. Take a closer look at that bridge. See how it held up under the stream starting across.

Not that she was paranoid about such things.

Large bonfires roared in no man's land, casting long shadows into the night. The field, formerly forest, flickered randomly around the hundreds of tree stumps. James found his mind trying to find the pattern, trying to guess the next burst of flame.

He never could.

The fires were a good and bad idea, in his mind. Yes, they illuminated all the land around the fort. No Elf would creep up on them, no enemy could form in the field under cover of darkness. Yet, if their presence had NOT been located exactly before, it was now. The glow would be seen for miles, probably as far away as that northern town. They could be drawing the very army they sought to escape.

Every choice involved risk.

James stood behind the wall, head looking over at the forest. Waiting. Waiting for what they did not want to see. But, he did. If they came, then they'd know. They could react. Plan. Until that time, until the location and strength of the Elves was discovered, they could be any size, any place.

Better to know.

The solder beside him, an archer not much older than he, seemed nervous. That always unnerved him. There was no reason anyone should ever feel that way around James. Smiling, he cocked his head at the man.

"Feel free to talk, Archer."

He looked startled and guilty. James looked back over the wall, hoping that eased things somewhat. After a moment, the man spoke.

"Your Grace ... may I ask you something?"

"Yes. I may not answer, but you may ask."

Another pause. James was starting to feel like it was time to leave. Not out of a sense of danger, but just so he could be among those who knew him. Could talk to him. He felt comfortable with his Hussar escorts. His guards. Ewa. Was that why kings, at times, seemed isolated from their people? It was just a way to keep sane?

"Your Grace, there is a rumor that..."

The archer cut himself off as both he and James saw the same movement at the forest edge. Horses with riders burst out of the tree line into the open, galloping at full speed. As one, the dozen Polish cavalry swung towards the fort.

"Archers!" The cry came from an officer down the line. "Target where they exited! Fire on my command!"

The wall was suddenly full of men, bows raised, strings pulled back taut. James knew he should jump back, provide room for one more archer, but he wanted to see. Had to see. The riders came towards them, heading towards the gate. One was yelling something...

From the same point in the trees, horse-like creatures with elven riders leapt into the open.

James had never seen an elf. From this distance, he still couldn't say he had. They seemed green, but that could just be a trick of the eye. The beasts they rode, though, were furry, like long legged buffalo. Not normal.

"Fire!"

The twang of arrows releasing came from all around him. He could feel the wind as they arched into the air.

"Again!"

The archers brought another arrow up before the elves had even reined in. They were released as the elves looked around, getting their bearings in this new place. They were followed by a third flight of arrows as the first began to fall among the creatures.

James winced. Those ... those were living beings being killed. Intelligent creatures, letting out cries of pain. The first wave caught them unaware, striking beast and elf alike. Many were thrown from their mounts, hitting the ground with thuds James thought he could feel even from this distance. The second and third showers of arrows fell on the handful still mounted, reducing them further.