ǂ
Jess na Gall and Captain Gaston were currently thirty miles to the east looking down from the Scar and out across the plains below. Ironically they were going to use the very same pass Samantha had when she was fleeing the Executioner Navarra. Now however, the pass was guarded by a high wooden fence and a host of men and women of Massi…nearly two hundred in all. It was a sizable force but it consisted mostly of those who were too old, or too young to join the actually army. They were here under the guise of guarding the pass, but Gaston had little doubt that though they may send a barrage of arrows at any approaching threat, most would flee in the face of any determined crossing. The hope however, was to bluff the enemy into thinking the defenders were more numerous than they actually were and so move on. Or, if there was an attack, the defenders would be able to delay an army long enough for word to get back to Manse and General Bock. Most of the people guarding the pass were simple folk…farm folk, here to help defend their country and few among them had any formal training. But it would be unwise for anyone to underestimate them. The inhabitants of the Plateau could be quite ornery.
“I hear there are only the Temple Knights left,” the older man said, standing at the side of Gaston’s horse. The morning was cold, though the sky was clearing quickly which brought the promise of sunshine and a bit more warmth.
“Yes,” Gaston said absently to the sergeant in charge of the defenses. “Have you caught sight of any scouts or movement on the plains below?”
The man shook his head, and then moved his eyes back and forth between na Gall and the young Speaker Sarbeth. He unconsciously licked his lips as he studied the women, but when he smiled Jess could tell he meant no real harm.
‘Just an old lecher no doubt,’ na Gall thought as his eyes shifted back to Sarbeth, but then Jess closed her eyes and began weaving her arms about in front of her. Despite her deep concentration she could still feel the old man’s eyes on her. For a moment she wished Lonogan was here to chase him away, but then she projected and was standing alongside her horse. She glanced at the Sergeant who was now looking at her with a mixture of lust and awe. Purposefully she glided through him, knowing this would cause him to feel a bit queasy and slightly chilled then she was through him and out over the Scar and thought of him no more. She moved out…straight to the north, looking for scouts or any signs of danger. Finding none, she turned and headed back to the west, all the while searching for any enemy who might be watching and report their position.
It didn’t take long; the first scouts she came across were nearly fifteen miles west and riding along the Scar River. There were only three. She noted their position and speed and then moved quickly on. She came across another pair farther to the north, again about twenty miles out from Manse. When she was satisfied she turned and moved farther to the west to check on the main force of the Knights. But as she flew through the air she missed not just one, but two additional groups of scouts, the closest only two miles to the north of the pass. She missed nearest group because at the moment it was idle, concealed atop a forested ridge gazing out over the Scar River valley and watching the Massi cavalry gather on the Plateau above.
‘They’re breaking camp,’ na Gall thought as she reached the large body of Temple Knights still milling outside the city of Manse, but the camp was nearly all packed up. na Gall guessed that the Knights would be leaving their location within the hour, but where would they go? She thought about moving farther to the west in an effort to locate scouts in that direction but in the end decided it would consume too much energy. She also resisted the urge to enter Manse and sneak a peek at Lonogan, though she did hover overhead a moment. Finally, with a projected sigh, she returned to her body, once again missing the stationary scouts on the ridge observing the mass of Massi cavalry. They watched intently, waiting for the Massi to make the move down onto the plains. It was not truly na Gall’s fault, not even a Traveler could see everything when projected and the world was a very, very large place.
As Jess returned, hunger hit her body almost immediately, but it was not bad…projecting used far less energy than actually Traveling. She opened her eyes, reached into the saddle bag and pulled out a big bag of dried apples.
“They’re breaking camp,” she told Gaston whose eyes widened slightly. “I spotted a small group of scouts headed this way along the Scar…about fifteen miles east and another pair farther to the north. If the first group continues on their course they will definitely spot our point of crossing.”
Gaston smiled. “If they live,” he added and signaled his men to begin the crossing. Scouts went across first and spread out in three directions, the Captain taking nothing on chance. The crossing took well over an hour, forty-five hundred horses all lined up single file stretched for miles; even riding three abreast it was an impressive concentration of men and horses. The trail to the plains below allowed for no more than three horses side by side, and in places it narrowed to one before coming to the lone gate where the path opened up down closer to the river. The river itself was low and only perhaps four feet deep in the center channel and posed no real obstacle. However, the banks on the far side would show clear evidence of their passing. But that was to be expected, it was nearly impossible to hide the tracks of so many horses and men.
“Will you be strong enough to search again in an hour?” Gaston asked and na Gall nodded.
They waited on top of the Scar for a time, and then headed down, merging into the line almost directly in the center of the long formation. As they splashed out into the water, Sarbeth laughed and looked to Captain Gaston, who at the moment was too preoccupied to grace her with his attention. na Gall caught the young woman’s frown and smiled.
‘There must be some aphrodisiac in war,’ she thought pulling her legs up behind her and leaning over the large roan’s neck. Happily, she made it all the way across without getting too wet. An hour later the entire force was across and Gaston ordered them immediately to the north. When they topped a small hill he pulled na Gall aside and she searched once more for the Temple Knights. Again she spotted the scouts moving along the Scar, this time only about eight miles to the west. It took a bit longer to locate the scouts to the north, but she finally did so. They were moving away from them now, in a more northeasterly direction, toward the base of the finger. The main body of the Temple Knights broke camp and were moving slowly to the east, perhaps two miles north of the Scar River, still well over thirty miles away.
When she returned she found both Gaston and Sarbeth looking at her expectantly. “They’ve broken camp and are slowly moving east along the Scar.”
Gaston remained thoughtful for a moment and then turned to Sarbeth. “Contact Zebo and let General Bock know that we’ve moved down onto the plains and will be moving to the northwest.”
“Northwest?” na Gall asked, concerned about the scouts and the possibility that the Knights would push past them toward Lynndon. “What if the Knights move on Lynndon?”
Gaston shrugged. “Let them. They’ll lose a good deal of men trying to gain the Plateau. They can’t fight on horseback up that trail, and even if they succeed in reaching the Plateau they’d find themselves in no better position. No, they’re baiting King Gwaynn to take action…as Gwaynn will bait them. We need to be in a position where we can react to the coming conflict,” he explained then moved off to confer with Captain Kerr. Moments later, two groups of thirty men rode off hunting enemy scouts, one group headed west directly along the Scar and the other rode to the north.