‘We should move off and out of this place,’ Hothgaard thought again, his every instinct screaming at him to withdraw, but he knew that was now impossible.
Sergeant Lewis rode up and interrupted the Captain’s thoughts.
“The afternoon patrols are in…no sign of the Massi cavalry,” the Sergeant stated, and he too was growing nervous by the enemy’s sudden disappearance. Of course, he was of the mind that the Massi had lost heart after the last engagement. The Temple Knights were accustomed to their enemies retreating before them, and though the Massi fought well, they were not the equal of the Knights and they must know it…everyone knew it.
Hothgaard did not answer.
Sergeant Lewis cleared his throat, but still his commander did not respond. During the last week something was eating at the Captain’s confidence, making him cautious and jumpy, at first it unnerved the Sergeant, but now it simply annoyed him. And again he wondered if he should send a report to the High King. Nothing was worse than a commander who’d lost his nerve.
“We should attack this evening, as soon as the causeways are complete. Weldon reports that the Massi army is far to the east and if they attempt to disengage and move to reinforce they will leave their flanks exposed.”
At first Sergeant Lewis thought that the Captain still would not respond, but then he turned from his study of the enemy’s defenses and gazed at Lewis for a long uncomfortable moment.
“No.” Was all he said and then turned back to gaze at the levee protecting the city of Manse.
“The Massi cavalry should hit us tonight…and we should be prepared,” Hothgaard added. “They are out there…waiting…unless…” the thought came to him in a flash. ‘Travelers! The cavalry will use Travelers to move to our rear!’ Yes…it’s what he would do if he had the option; if he was in their position.
“The High King will not like the delay,” the Sergeant commented and Hothgaard spun, his right hand going to the hilt of his kali. Sergeant Lewis took a quick step back, eyes wide.
“The High King is not here,” Hothgaard spat and took a menacing step forward, the knuckles white on the grip of his weapon.
“Your pardon,” Sergeant Lewis said, frightened but satisfied that he had finally succeeded in getting a reaction from his superior. Lewis had traveled up the ranks with Captain Low Hothgaard and knew him to be a decisive and bold leader of men. Somewhere along the way he’d lost his passion for fighting and it was time he reclaimed it.
“The Massi will use Travelers…tonight to attain surprise and attempt to destroy the causeways…we will be ready,” Hothgaard explained, his anger quickly subsiding. Sergeant Lewis was a good man, an excellent fighter and a competent leader of men, but he lacked imagination…attack, attack, always attack. Of course such a strategy normally worked for the Knights so one could hardly blame him.
“Travelers!” Lewis repeated, the idea strange in his mind, but of course it was a possibility. Monde and na Gall were known to be with the Massi.
“The High King should have killed them all,” Lewis said absently.
“No,” Hothgaard replied harshly some of his anger returning…thoughts of the High King seemed to do that these days. “He should have bloody well left them be…I’m amazed he hasn’t made the Tars of Noble our enemies as well.”
Lewis said nothing, too stunned by the idea of fighting the legendary swordsman of Noble to speak.
“Should we send out more patrols?” The sergeant asked.
“What for? They’ll not find anything,” Hothgaard snapped. “Pull everyone in close and I want triple the guards tonight. If the Massi are foolish enough to delay their attack we will strike Manse come first light. When we move, we’ll need to move quickly and batter down the gates so our horses can join in the fight…speed and strength as always, wins the day.”
“Yes Sir!” Lewis shouted, snapping to attention, a wave of relief surging over him with the knowledge that his friend and leader was back to his old self.
“See to it,” Hothgaard said and then turned back to study the breastwork protecting Manse and wondered just what Prince Gwaynn and his commanders were up to at this very moment.
ǂ
At that moment Gwaynn was walking into the hospital tent, hoping that Samantha was awake. She was sitting up in her cot talking to Emm who was perched on the edge of her bed. Emm was not crying but from the looks of her she’d stopped only a short time prior. Cobb, ever present, stood over them both, fidgeting uncomfortably in the sea of emotions permeating the tent.
Samantha looked up as Gwaynn entered and actually gave him a soft smile. It was the most beautiful thing he’d seen in a very long time.
“Emm,” he said softly and touched the girl on the shoulder. She looked up and gave him one of her own sad smiles in contrast.
Emm turned back to Samantha. “I’ll…I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said and shakily stood up. “Come Cobb…you can keep me company,” she ordered and the large man lumbered to her side.
“You needn’t leave,” Gwaynn said, feeling very bad for the girl.
Emm was silent for a moment and then leaned into Gwaynn, who put his arm around her sympathetically. “Thank you…but I’m finally getting hungry…and I’m tired. I’m really tired,” she added and with Cobb in tow they slowly wandered away and out of the tent.
“Will she be alright?” Gwaynn asked taking her place on the side of the cot.
Samantha sighed. “Maybe…but not for a very long time. Krys meant the world to her…she loved him very much.”
“He…” Gwaynn began but had to stop for a moment to control his emotions. “He loved her too…I never understood why when he was alive, but I’m beginning to see the attraction.”
“She’s soft and good despite what was done to her. I think the goodness of her was what attracted Krys,” Samantha tried to explain, but then feel silent.
“How do you feel?” Gwaynn asked looking down at her half arm.
Samantha shrugged. “It throbs, but Linkler gives me willow bark to ease the pain. It helps a bit.”
“Does it hurt terribly?”
“Only when I forget and bang it against something,” she answered and then once again they fell silent, somehow uncomfortable, as if they truly didn’t know each other.
Finally Samantha looked up and stared directly into Gwaynn’s eyes. He held her gaze and wondered at it briefly.
“Gwaynn,” she said softly. “Would you take me to our room?”
Gwaynn sighed with relief. “Of course,” he answered and wondered at the question.
“No,” Samantha said as he stood. “I mean will you take me to our room and love me…will you love me like before.” She knew he loved her, but was anxious, afraid that her deformity might repulse him.
Now Gwaynn understood and with a genuine smile he reached down and threw off her covers and reached to pick her up.
“I can walk,” Samantha said and pushed him gently away, then without much effort she got to her feet and stood. She remained still for a moment and was somewhat surprised that she was not dizzy in the least. Gwaynn moved to her right side, reached out and took her hand. She did not look at him but instead led him from the tent and out into the open. On the way across the bridge and up to the Plateau they passed several groups of people, civilians and troops alike, and Samantha found that with them she was not in the least self conscious about her injury…she thought it would bother her…she thought people would stare, but now she realized she didn’t care what they thought…only Gwaynn.