“May I?” Doctor Linkler asked and then placed a flat palm on Samantha’s midsection. “Is this the first time you’ve felt the baby?”
Samantha nodded.
Linkler smiled as Cyndar glowered, but nobody was paying much attention to her at the moment. “You’ll be coming up on the half way point in your term in a few weeks then,” he said and Samantha looked at Gwaynn in wonder…and then suddenly, fear.
‘What if something happens to me?’ The thought came to her unbidden and unwanted. She was going to fight…nothing would stop her from going with her archers. She’d spent too much time preparing to be left behind now.
“It’ll be alright,” Gwaynn said, reading her feelings well, but inside he was just as worried, just as fearful. Before anything more could be said on the matter Krys barged into the tent, followed by Emm, who caught sight of Cyndar and frowned.
“The Toranado have arrived,” Krys said a little breathless.
Gwaynn looked up but did not react to the news. “Good, tell Prince Phillip to make camp for the night. We will continue the march south to the Aleria Pass come morning.”
Krys smiled, he was growing tired of sitting about and was ready for action. It was time to teach the Palmerrio a little about caution.
ǂ
Captain Hothgaard rode at the very head of the column, leading nearly twenty-five hundred Temple Knights on a reconnaissance mission to Manse. The column stretched nearly a mile, as if inviting attack, which was exactly the case. The Massi cavalry were out and on the loose. Word of the Rhondono defeat reached Hothgaard the previous morning. He promptly sent a force of fifteen hundred Knights under the conservative and reliable Captain Tramm in a sweep of the lands west of Cape. He doubted the Massi were still in the area of the battle, but he wanted to be sure, and he wanted to keep the west free of opposition. He imagined the Massi horsemen were already retreating to the safety of Manse and the Scar, but in the hopes of forcing the issue, he gathered a second force and decided to lead it himself toward the base city of the Massi. If for some reason the Massi cavalry lingered on the plains in the west they would find themselves trapped between two forces. And then they would have to fight their way through the Knights in order to gain the safety of the Plateau. Hothgaard doubted the Massi would be caught so easily, after all they’d come back to defeat the Deutzani and the attack on the Rhondono showed that at least someone understood when a potential gain outweighed the risk of defeat. The loss of the Rhondono foot soldiers was a blow, but not a fatal one for Hothgaard and the Knights. They were only a supplemental force to aid in the siege of Cape, but Hothgaard had no real intention of attacking the port city.
The day warmed nicely throughout the afternoon and despite the clouds building menacingly in the south, the afternoon remained quite pleasant. The Captain just hoped any bad weather would hold off at least until they made camp.
As he rode, Hothgaard noticed that a few leaves were beginning to change and wondered if this war would be over before the leaves finally dropped. He hoped so. Hothgaard glanced about the countryside, growing impatient. He spurred his mount into a trot suddenly very interested in seeing Manse for himself. His scouts informed him that the defenses were formidable. Hothgaard shrugged, once the Palmerrio crossed over the Scar Mountains and onto the Plateau, the Massi would either have to fight or be trapped within the folly of their own defenses.
After an hour they were within ten miles of the city, and the smell of rain hung in the air. It wasn’t long before the low gray clouds turned nearly black and the rains opened up, effectively blinding them for any distance.
Hothgaard frowned, drenched almost immediately. “Let’s tighten up,” he told his Sergeant. “If the Massi are indeed out and waiting, this would be the time.”
He was correct; at that very moment Captain Gaston waited with just over nineteen hundred horsemen in a shallow gully to the east of the advancing column of Knights. Gaston was nervous, but when the rains came he did not hesitate. He immediately sounded the order to attack and was the first to move up and out of the gully. He spurred his horse hard, charging toward the enemy, his blood already rushing through his veins faster than his horse could gallop.
The Massi charge crashed into the Knight’s line, cutting completely through the last quarter of the enemy and at nearly the same time another force of nearly five hundred horsemen attacked from the rear. The maneuver was masterful, designed to isolate and destroy a large section of an enemy force. With luck the strategy would confuse and scatter the remainder, but the Knights were not easily rattled and without even a word from Captain Hothgaard, the center of the formation rolled to the west away from the main attack and then circled about to reinforce the trailing sections. At the same time the lead column of the Knights galloped forward and then circled back to the east, intent on surrounding and crushing the foolish enemy force. It was a classic attack, counter attack scenario and within moments Gaston and the rest of the Massi cavalry went from aggressor to defenders.
“Hold fast!” Gaston yelled loudly, still moving fast. He lost control of his lance when it plunged through the back of a Knight who was engaged with another of his men. He glanced about in the rain, desperate to make out the position of the main section of the enemy. At first he could see nothing, and was distracted as another Knight charged his direction. He kicked his horse into motion in order to meet the threat with force. They passed one another with a clang of steel on steel, Gaston moving farther out into a nearby field. It was then that he spotted a force circling about from the north, pounding through the mud and rain in perfect formation. He watched, mesmerized for a moment until he recognized the column as another group of Temple Knights. His heart sank as he looked wildly about for more Massi horsemen. His search was short-lived as a spear point glanced off his left side, slicing into his rib cage. The force of the blow nearly threw him from the saddle, but somehow he managed to stay mounted. He righted himself, not even feeling the pain of his wound. He parried another attack from the Knight who seemed bent on killing him, but even as he fought Gaston continued to mark the progress of the company of Knights riding hard his way. He swiftly turned and with his left kali removed the head of the lance which aimed at his heart. The Knight engaging him yelled in frustration and drew his sword. He slammed his well-trained mount into Gaston’s horse pushing the animal back and the Massi Captain was forced to use all of his concentration on the fight at hand. As he fought Gaston’s strength and speed began to take their toll on the shocked Knight, keeping the man on the defensive. The Knight retreated from a flurry of hard well timed blows; finally after several long minutes of fighting, Gaston managed to relieve the Knight of his right hand and when he screamed the Captain sliced through the man’s neck. But even as the man fell to the ground, Gaston could sense the enemy approaching his rear and he knew that if the Knights were allowed to circle around his position, all would be lost.
ǂ
The night before they were to leave for the Aleria Pass to meet the Palmerrio was a late one, full of planning, full of contingencies, full of “what ifs.” But now the meetings were over and Lonogan sat on his bed alone in his room in the western bailey. As usual he’d left the planning to Gwaynn and the others. He knew his own strengths and weaknesses. He was a logistics general…good at his job because he knew how to get things done but planning and strategy would never be his strong point. So he let Gwaynn and Hahn provide the plan and he would see it carried out.