Chapter Thirty: The Reign of King Ansibald
After the prisoners were dealt with, the duke's host proceeded through a quarter mile of woodland along an worn gravel path until they arrived at the bridge that the Bolearic reserve had used to cross. It was an ancient stone bridge in the stout concrete style that the ancient Sudric people had preferred. It had been shored up multiple times but was still in questionable condition to cross along the whole width of the bridge, so they rode single-file, avoiding the parts that had collapsed or were likely to collapse in the next few decades, until the remaining host had crossed. They had officially crossed into Boleares.
The duke sent scouts out, but it was already too late to do much. They camped in the woods, hoping it would hide their numbers from anybody watching from afar.
It was only the third time that Val had ever slept in the woods - and on one of those occasions, she'd been knocked unconscious from using too much natural magic at once. This time, it was in a tent with Niko and Violet… and Pudge. She'd been excited at the prospect of rooming with Niko without Ginn around to tell her to keep that door open. As glad as Val was to reconnect with Pudge, she did not appreciate not having Niko to herself.
Still, she cuddled up with her, each of them unbuttoning one side of their sleeping roll so they could share one undivided space, and Niko sidled up behind her, a hand draped over Val's side, her fingers resting on Val's belly in a way that made her flush in anticipation. In anticipation of more kissing? Val sure hoped so. But, in the meanwhile, she just lay there with Niko right behind her, a lazy smile on her face as she half-heartedly answered Pudge's endless barrage of questions.
"So you're basically the duke's personal wizard?" Pudge asked.
Val wasn't sure how to respond to that. For starters, Niko's breath was on her neck, her leg was draped over Val's shin, and all she wanted to do was hum in contentment. Second, she wasn't sure that girls could even be wizards. The terminology was a little confusing. For some areas of magic, there were clear names - a mage, druid, sorceress, alchemist, or necromancer had a pretty well-established area of expertise. Others, like wizard, witch, or elementalist were less clear-cut and could indicate talent in any number of fields. Moreover, she didn't like the idea of being the duke's personal anything. She was the duke's standard bearer because Mrs. Eatherfine had asked her to…
"I'm not sure girls can be wizards," she said eventually.
"Do you think I'll get the Gift?"
Pudge was about the age that Val had been when she'd got the gift, and boys usually got theirs a bit later. She shrugged and sighed happily. "Hope so," she said. "Going sleep now…"
"Oh… okay," Pudge said. "G'night, you two."
Val snuggled back into Niko and let her friend… her girlfriend… lean in and kiss her neck and move her hair back, and whisper into her ear, "good night, beautiful."
Val decided that campaigning was not a brutal grind. In fact, in some ways, it was downright nice.
+++++
She awoke to the sound of reveille, which was about when she usually woke up anyway. That had been ingrained from two years in Mrs. Lavoie's orphanage. With some hesitation, she lifted Niko's arm off of her and kissed her awake, which she imagined was probably the best way to wake up.
"Whaaat?" Pudge said.
Val turned to him and scowled, but that soon turned to a grin. He winked. There was no judgment there, only surprise. Without missing a beat, Pudge wriggled out of his sleeping roll and wandered out to relieve himself and let Val and Niko get dressed in relative privacy.
Niko yawned and slipped out of her roll. "Pudge seems like a good friend," she said.
"He is. We'll take him back to Verdenlecht with us."
"Okay."
The rule in camp, according to Tobbin, was that you had to be up, relieved, armed, fed, and in formation within thirty minutes of reveille, which was a tall order. Sometimes, you had even less and were lucky to be able to scarf any food down. Val was still trying to force down the last of her buttered toast when she mounted Tulip.
Pudge, who was now acting as assistant groom, had balked at untying the horse before Val mounted up, but Tulip was quite confident that she wouldn't wander off until Val was ready. Val whispered that she should file in next to the duke's squire (whom he was borrowing from Lord Baltur until Tobbin was satisfied with the new squire's training, since Val wouldn't be doing that part of the job), and Tulip plodded right into place.
It was a pleasant spring morning, the sun shining, the river rolling along behind them, the gentle breeze swaying in the trees. Val blew a kiss to Niko. Levin thought the gesture was meant for him and made a fairly horrified expression until Val blushed and pointed very expressly at Niko, which made everything fine.
Baron Zollen was discussing his strategy with the duke - while the duke was in charge, Val gathered that the baron was the one actually responsible for strategy and tactics. Duke Ansibald nodded to Val, who trotted out with him as he addressed the troops.
"Our scouts report that the enemy gauged our position during the night and are, even now, scrambling to erect defenses at Ford Leaven, which sits upon the ancient city of Reverest three miles distant from our location. It is my intention to ride into the town and capture it before they can set their defenses. We have the numeric advantage and the town is not well-defended, and so we anticipate our first victory toward a unified Sudria. Remember: whomever does not resist you is not your enemy, but a potential cousin and friend. And whomever does resist our might we will make wish had never raised arms against Aurilicht. I don't know about you, but yesterday only whet my appetite for victory! Onward, men!"
Val waved the pennant. The soldiers cheered. The duke raised his sword. They cheered again. Then Ansibald and Val both trotted back into formation and the units moved forward with the tromping of feet and the clattering of metal. She was getting very good at the routine.
As they approached the town, they passed old stone ruins of a long-dead city. The town that was built atop its ruins was much smaller, perhaps ten thousand people, with half of the buildings built from wood, brick, and thatch, and the other half built with the white, weathered stones of the old city, albeit with wood and brick forming everything past the second floor. They passed recently-felled trees, some of which had already been hauled off to construct palisades, now under construction. They could hear the pounding of hammers and droning of saws in the distance.
"Send out the messenger," Baron Zollen said. Waving a miniature version of Val's duke's pennant, the squire galloped off toward the town with their demands:
We consider this province to be our territory and, as such, mean your town and your people no harm. I, Duke Ansibald of Aurilicht, hereby offer clemency and reprieve for all defenders and townsfolk of Ford Leaven, provided an immediate surrender. No property will be taken from you and no penalty applied to you other than the requirement that you feed and house your new duke and his fighting host. If you will not surrender, we will make every effort to spare civilians, but every armed person will be put to the sword until surrender is declared and every building with a closed door will be put to the torch and razed. You have one hour to decide. If I do not hear the construction of defenses halted within fifteen minutes of the receipt of this message, I will assume you have already decided.
Your rightful duke,
Ansibald II of Aurilicht
They waited for fourteen long minutes, just within view of the town, provided you had a spyglass. They were already in the formation decided by the baron and ready to march on the town before the sound of saws and hammers finally stopped. The squire arrived two minutes later, galloping in with a rolled up parchment in his fist and a manic grin on his face. He handed the message to the baron, who handed it to Ansibald. The duke cleared his throat.
"Your grace, please accept our surrender. Ford Leaven is yours."
Val waved the pennant. The soldiers cheered. The duke raised his sword. They cheered again.
+++++
They had a massive feast that night, hosted by the Mayor of Ford Leaven.
Perhaps hosted was the wrong word, since the man clearly didn't have any say in the matter. The several local priests were there, too - priests of the Pale Order, obviously, since none of the other religions could openly practice in Boleares. However, the duke still allowed the Pale Order to practice freely in his nation, even if the Penintent Brothers were outright banned, and so they couldn't be too upset. Unlike their own sect, they were not being conquered by some fanatical faith hoping to stamp out all others. So they put on fake smiles that got less and less fake as the evening wore on and they downed alcohol, until they were dancing and laughing with the duke's soldiers.
Surprisingly (or perhaps not so surprisingly), there was a local priestess from the Old Sudren religion. She had a small sept of several dozen congregants, but they'd all been practicing in secret on account of the stigma against the religion. She sat at the table with the battle-mages - the was Gifted, but had never had much chance to develop her talents. She was utterly enthralled by the duke's mages, if also a bit taken aback.
"I hope I can speak freely," she said.
"It's a free country," Val said - and for the first time she could remember, she really meant it.
"Thank you, sorceress…"
Val raised her hand. "Not a sorceress, Priestess Rialen. That talk can get you into trouble."
"My apologies… I don't know the terminology. Are you a witch, then?"
"Maybe?"
"Miss Val, then… I am a bit… concerned… that young women and men so green have been conscripted into the service. What did your parents say?"
Val was about to point out that she didn't have any parents, but that wasn't true. Not anymore. She had two parents, and they loved her and she loved them. At least she hoped they did. Ginn had cried the whole morning that Val left and Ette was incensed that he wasn't allowed to ride out with their host. But he and Sabine were needed for training and maintaining the city's civilian defense force now and, he grudgingly admitted, they were pretty much indispensable. Ginn had given Val three family amulets that were supposed to give luck and protection, though all three only had weak magical signatures and Val couldn't tell what, if anything, they actually did.
"My mom cried all morning," Val said. "But I already made my pledge to the duke, and Mrs. Eatherfine didn't force me."
"Who?"
"Hyacinth, the duke's mom," Val clarified. "She's a dowager duchess. She asked me to be the duke's standard and I agreed."
"Ms. Bonnikin only sniffled a little," Niko said. "But that's Sabine for you. She was pretty upset."
Yes, it would probably take an awful lot to get Sabine to outright cry.
Priestess Rialen asked about the other septs in the city and how they were doing - she'd traveled back and forth to Verdenlecht with some regularity, since they'd only closed the border in the past few months. In the past, she'd even sent Gifted to Priestes Oestel for training, though theirs was a very small sept and they hadn't had anybody Gifted in about five years. When Val pointed out that fully a third of the duke's host followed the Old Sudren faith, the priestess excused herself and wandered around to chat with them and thank them for liberating the town.
"She seems nice," Niko said.
While the duchy had no hard and fast rule about drinking ages, it was the duke's decision that nobody under sixteen could have more than one cup of ale or mead. At first, Val was disappointed, since she rather liked the mulled mead they drank at holidays like Mittvanter, but this was a tart, slightly astringent mead that she didn't care for at all. Levin seemed to like it, though, and he'd attracted the attentions of a local girl who wanted to learn all about being a battle-mage, which Levin was happy to indulge between drinks and smooching.
Levin had only ever been in one battle, and that was just a technicality - he'd been two horses down from Val watching with everybody else in the reserve cavalry. Though, to be fair, that was about as much action as the first cavalry had got, only they had to charge at the enemy's rear before striking a few and waiting for them to surrender.
At some point, one of the knights struggled to his feet and gave a rambling, incoherent toast to considerable applause, followed by another knight who did likewise. Then Duke Ansibald stood and raised his hands and everybody but a few oblivious drunkards quieted down - though they were soon informed that the duke intended to give a toast. Ansibald smiled, his cheeks a bit red from too much drink, as well as from the lipstick of a coterie of local women who may or may not have been prostitutes. His teeth were as pearly-white as ever.
"Friends, countrymen, brothers and sisters, subjects of Aurilicht, tonight is a great night!" He said it in Arleng and then in Peliac, which is what most of the locals spoke - he had an accent but was pretty fluent. "Tonight marks the first night that Aurilicht and Boleares are united, if only in one town. You are the first among many - our path is the path of destiny and we will soon march upon Wayfair. We will soon march upon St. Sylvestine, and we will overturn the corrupt Regency council and inform them that we do not care for their vision for our lands. We'll kick their arses right to the streets!"
The crowd cheered and drank, no pennant-waving required. Even Val cheered, as she was the slightest bit tipsy after a whole mug of mead. It got better as it warmed up, and then got even better as she warmed up. Niko screamed in Val's ear and kissed her cheek, and Val kissed her back. Some people at the next table over gave her dirty looks, but they could suck a big egg through a small tube.
"Off with their heads!" somebody shouted.
The duke raised his hand - more silence. "Aye, we may do that, too, for this is a bloody business what we do. I have no desire to pit brother across brother, and every town as wise as Reverest I shall offer the same mercy I offer here. Yes, I use the ancient name of this city, for it was once the capital of Aurilicht in an era when all were united under the Kingdom of Sudria. And I wish to unite all of Sudria once again, starting with the marriage of Aurilicht and Boleares, which were once her crown jewels. This is not the Bolearic or Aurlic motherland… it is the motherland of all Sudrans, whether by ancestry or as an adopted home. And tonight, I proclaim myself Ansibald, the rightful King of Sudria, the first of my name! March under my banner, brothers and sisters, and we shall be great again!"
"King Ansibald! King Ansibald!" the crowd chanted, and Val chanted it, too, and somebody had thought to refill her mead even though she wasn't supposed to get more than the one mug. She looked to Niko, and then to Pudge… they chanted it, too, a thunderous roar throughout the mayor's great hall. "King Ansibald! King Ansibald!"
Val's mind reiterated that campaigning was not a brutal grind. In fact, in some ways, it was downright nice.
+++++
She awoke the next morning with a headache, though it wasn't as bad as what she'd been lead to believe hangovers felt like. She drank about a quart of water and fetched some more for Niko and Pudge and only fit a bit bleary a few minutes later. They'd spent the night in the guestroom of a local clockmaker - Gus would have appreciated the clockwork almost as much as Val did. Sometimes, the two of them would take clocks apart for fun and try to reassemble them in different ways.
The duke's regiment had occupied every inn, hostel, spare room, and stables in the whole town, but nobody had needed to sleep in a tent. They then marched out of town, leaving out the eastern gate rather than the western entrance they'd entered through. The duke left a hundred men back in the town for defense while demanding that the local defenders swear an oath of loyalty and accompany him on his campaign to make up for the deficit.
"Why are we heading east?" Niko whispered. "I thought we were supposed to head back to Verdenlecht after we routed the reserves?"
"The duke wants to keep going," Val whispered.
She'd probably heard more than she was supposed to hear. That happened sometimes - people assumed Val was just a kid, even though she was a few months shy of thirteen and pretty observant. Baron Zollen had reminded the duke that his mother expected the regiment back. That they could leave more men behind in Ford Leaven, return to Verdenlecht, and use the town as a staging point for a larger offensive.
But the duke was insistent that they could safely strike at the Cafernine Valley, too - the breadbasket of western Boreales. If they could capture the valley and defend it, that would hamper the Bolearic forces and force them into a costly battle, giving them an opportunity to surround Wayfair and starve it out if they were successful.
The baron pointed out that the ancient fortress at Garudon lay at the valley's easternmost pass, to which Ansibald pointed out that they could capture the several small towns and villages in the valley, find the families of the fort's defenders, and force them to surrender the fort before he shipped their families back to Verdenlecht as hostages. After such a great victory, he could return triumphant to Verdenlecht and announce himself as king there, too, officially and for all the world to see.
"It's very risky, your grace," Baron Zollen had said.
"Yes, but well worth it. It's my decision to make."
"Yes, your grace."
So, instead of heading back home, they marched out the eastern gate to applause and fanfare. The girl who'd been smooching with Levin dashed out from the crowd to kiss him and made him promise to write. Val was quickly gaining a favorable opinion of warfare - sure, there was a little violence in parts, but it was mostly pageantry and being cheered as you marched in or out of different towns. At least that was the duke's-eye view of it, and she rode very close to the duke.
They rode past three small villages, little clusters of wood and plaster huts with no more than a few streets and a handful of shops nestled within the sparsely-wooded hills. The largest housing perhaps two hundred people, forcing the aldermen there to swear their allegiance to the duke. Since none of the settlements had more than a fraction of the size of the duke's fighting host, they quickly agreed and the duke got to check off three more conquests. There was farmland there, too, with farms that stretched for miles and the great forested slopes of gentle mountains in the distance.
Val had never seen real mountains before. Based on storybooks, she'd expected them to be capped with snow, but only a few of them had snow at their peaks, and all of those were still well-carpeted with dense pine forest all the way up to close to the peak. Sometimes, there would be great rock faces in the hazy distance where something had sheared off great chunks of the mountain, but even those were covered with greenery and little strips of forest, suggesting that whatever had done that had done it many centuries ago. Even in the late afternoon, the air was clear and pleasant, the sun slowly dropping behind them as they headed east into the valley.
Baron Zollen peered through a spyglass before adjusting the focus and handing it to the duke. With a little squinting, Val could see a scattering of huts in the distance, followed by the hazy wisps of fire smoke streaming up beyond that - something much larger than the villages they'd encountered earlier.
"That's Caferton," the baron said. "Home of about twenty-five thousand and the largest town in the valley. We should camp in the hills for the night while our scouts assess the villages defenses. It may be we can take it easily, but maybe we can't."
The duke shook his head. "We'll give them the same ultimatum we gave Ford Leaven. If they refuse, no harm done - we can still camp in the hills and let them stew over it. And if they accept, that's another town captured with no loss of life. I'd rather not destroy my own kingdom if I can avoid it."
"Your grace, we cannot give them a whole night to prepare. The difference between one hour to prepare and ten hours is astronomical. We must either take them by surprise or wait for reinforcements."
"Very well, baron. We'll overnight in the hills north of here, let your scouts do their work, and then deliver our one-hour ultimatum at dawn. Does that plan meet your approval?"
"It's less risky, your grace," the baron allowed. "I'll see that it's done."
+++++
Once again, Val shared a tent with Niko and Pudge. Niko curled up with her, which was nice, especially given the chilly air of the valley, but she was worried. Something weighed on her, some ominous foreboding that something bad was going to happen. And she worried bout Ginn and Ette… she was supposed to be back already. She knew that the baron had sent runners back so they would know what was happening back in Verdenlecht… but they'd know that Val was marching ever further away from home and into danger with the duke's regiment. She didn't want her adopted parents to worry about her, even though she was glad that she now had somebody to worry about her back home. And she worried that Niko and Pudge were in the same ominous boat that she was in.
"I'm worried," Niko said. "Maybe it's stupid, but it feels like something bad is going to happen."
"Yeah," Pudge mumbled from his side of the tent. "Like a heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach just pushing everything down."
"Yeah, exactly."
"Maybe it's the camp stew," Val said. Niko pinched her side, which made them both giggle.
"We're just kids. We shouldn't be at war anyway," Pudge said.
That was a good point. Regardless of how Gifted she was and how many times she'd sparred and gone through exercises in classes with Ette, Sabine, and Ginn, it felt vaguely audacious that, at less than thirteen, she was now an instrumental part of Duke… King Ansibald's army. Val liked fighting for sport. She liked it a lot, almost as much as doing magic. But she didn't want to kill anybody who didn't want to kill her in particular.
You couldn't blame people for trying to kill you if you marched right into their valley and announced that it belonged to you now, whether they liked it or not. If somebody had marched into her home, angry and well-armed, and announced that the Vinzennos would now be paying rent to them, Val wouldn't have taken it well.
"I don't want to kill anybody," Val said eventually.
"They'll probably give up like the people in Ford Leaven, and we'll have a big feast and go back home," Niko said, and she pulled Val closer.
"Yeah, probably." Val knew that neither of them believed that.
Pudge was already snoring, bless his heart.
+++++
The next morning was grim and a bit rainy, a cold rain misting out of the sky and buffeted by the gentle breeze in such a way that you could never quite cover up against it, but it didn't make you anything more than aggravatingly damp. The rain had been heavier over the night, so there were puddles and muck. Since they were too close to Caferton to play reveille, a squire ran around camp slapping all of the tents with a wooden paddle to wake the occupants up, but Val was already awake. She'd awoken at dawn's first light and hadn't been able to sleep.
"Niko, wake up," Val whispered.
"No… five more minutes, Ms. Bonnikin," Niko groaned.
"Reveille," she whispered.
Niko's eyes fluttered open, and she instinctively smiled when she saw Val, which was just about the greatest feeling in the world. Val couldn't be too disappointed in a gray and misty morning when she got to wake up next to Niko. Pudge was already out, giving them time and space to change while he did his business.
The duke's… king's runner had already galloped off to Caferton to deliver their surrender ultimatum, and by the time they left the hills and marched out to the main road, it was approaching an hour after delivery. As they passed by fields of barley and sunflowers, the messenger came galloping out from the township, puddles splashing and kicking up muddy water in his wake. He didn't look too pleased with his message.
"Well?" Ansibald asked.
"They say you can go to, um, heck, and they'd be happy to help you get there," he said.
The king chuckled. "Cheeky bastards. Well, if they want a fight then we can give them one."
"My lord, there are quite a few men down the road," Val said.
She had sharper eyes than most, but the king and the baron were able to confirm through a glance in the spyglass.
"That's about four hundred men in the field and four hundred who think they're hiding in the town," Baron Zollen said. "With the reinforcements your mother sent in the night, we should be able to take them, but it'll be bloody business."
"What's your plan, baron?"
"Bring our testudo infantry in close - they can take a battering from the bolt-casters for a bit and get them to reveal their range and number. Plus, they won't risk an infantry charge of their own while they're firing volleys at us. They'll keep everybody back and safe. That will give us the time we need for our reinforcements to move into position and take their flank. They've hardly got any cavalry, so we should be able to sweep right through with our own once they start to maneuver to counter the flank, but it'll take all of our cavalry and it'll be a bloody business. That'll be a decisive win if it plays right."
The king slapped his fist into his palm. "Finally, some action! All right, an excellent plan - if we pull this off, you just might be more than a baron soon."
"Thank you, your excellency. I'll see it's done." The baron turned his horse to face them. "All right, soldiers! I want my shields here and ready to march with bolts at the ready! Match their width and steady…"
Soon, Val was trotting with the rest of the cavalry into position, trampling right through a poor field of barley that had never done them any wrong. From there, it was a gradual slope downward to the township. While the town had a wall, it only encircled a small part of the whole town. It had been built a long time ago and, as Caferton grew, it had spread out well beyond the walls. Even now, Val could see squads of men attempting to disguise themselves among the buildings. If they thought they were being sneaky, they were fooling themselves. She watched the heavy shields march into formation, built up into a single overlapping shield of metal and could barely make out the clicks and clacks of black bolts bouncing off the heavy shields, though she was too far away to make out the individual bolts.
A testudo formation marched with more shields than it needed to maintain the formation, so even when one or two men fell to arrows that made it through the tiny holes or managed to penetrate the weak spot in a shield, there were enough to maintain the shell. If need be, they could always contract into a tighter line if too many men fell. So far, though, Val only counted one dead and two limping away, which was hardly any after three volleys. Another dozen yards and they could open into a charge and plow right over the bolt-casters, and yet the fools just stood there wasting bolt after bolt.
"Hey, those guys are running out of the town," Val said.
The squads of men who'd been hiding in the town suddenly streamed out, running behind the Bolearic infantry arrayed behind their bolt-casters, each carrying something large and black. Meanwhile, their cavalry took off to the north, toward were the Aureline reinforcements would soon be emerging from the hills for the flank attack.
"Something's not right…" Val said.
The infantry rushed out ahead of the squads of men with black boxes… the boxes looked very much like bolt-casters, only they were about twice the size in every direction. Suddenly, Val had a horrible, lurching sense of déjà-vu, the distinct sense that she'd experienced this before. She'd died here before.
"Advance cavalry, take the fight to those infantry!" the baron shouted, and about forty of the cavalry streamed past Val and the duke, rushing toward the oncoming infantry. Meanwhile, the testudo of heavy shields was in disarray, half of their men suddenly down, and retreating to meet the regular Aurilic infantry on the field.
"Shields up!" Val shouted. "Battle-mages! Shields up!"
She cast her own shield just in time to hear the whizzing whine of bolts being fired from about twice the range they should have been capable of. The bolts were the length of Val's whole arm and tipped with something green and slightly-glowing - something alchemical. They wavered off the shields, lost most of their impact, and curved right down into the last few members of the advance cavalry as they clashed with the infantry. One of the bolts went right through a man in heavy armor and his horse.
"How can they reach us?" Baron Zollen shouted. "Retreat!"
"No! We must charge! Around me, men! Around me!" the king shouted. "Battle-mages, maintain your shields!"
Most of the men did manage to rally around him, for all of about five seconds. Then the next salvo of bolts zipped in. The shield took most of the bolts, but Val felt it buckling - not all of the battle-mages were as strong as her, and she could only keep her shield strong for a few more of those. And, since their whole shield was in resonance, that meant gaps were starting to form. One… two… three out of about fifty zipped through, one of them striking the king right through the chest, throwing him off his horse and pinning him to the ground.
"The king! Sweet Almighty, the king!" somebody shouted.
Val grabbed Niko by the arm and shouted, "We have to get out of here! We're all going to die!" She pointed to the duke's panicking horse, telling the mount to calm down - which he did, a bit. "Pudge, get on that horse!"
"I can barely ride!"
"Ride or die!" she shouted. She liked Pudge a lot, but if it came between the choice of everybody dying or just him, it wasn't a hard choice. Pudge, being a clever boy, grasped the gravity of the situation and managed to mount just as Val galloped past him and into the southern hills.
Steel clashed on steel or cut into bone around her and men and women screamed. The rest of the cavalry were soon in full retreat backward, rather than perpendicular to the attack as Val had galloped. Two of the heavy bolts zipped to the ground near her, but soon all of the attention was drawn to the remaining Aurilic troops. She kept galloping of the rise of a hill, through a secluded little homestead, trampling a perfectly innocent herb garden, and over the next rise before she stopped to see if any of her friends were still with her.
OvidLemma
As always, please leave a comment below! Preferably in some sort of poetic format! I love to hear from my readers!
Thanks for reading, and make sure you follow me here to catch my latest releases! I plan on releasing chapters of this story about three times a week, but I haven't decided on what days yet. Advance chapters are available on my Patreon. If you liked this story, don't forget to check out my many other stories Scribble Hub, Patreon, or Amazon (free with Kindle Unlimited)!
https://www.patreon.com/OvidLemma
https://www.amazon.com/s?i=digital-text&rh=p_27:Ovid+Lemma
-Ovid
Chapter Thirty: The Reign of King Ansibald
After the prisoners were dealt with, the duke's host proceeded through a quarter mile of woodland along an worn gravel path until they arrived at the bridge that the Bolearic reserve had used to cross. It was an ancient stone bridge in the stout concrete style that the ancient Sudric people had preferred. It had been shored up multiple times but was still in questionable condition to cross along the whole width of the bridge, so they rode single-file, avoiding the parts that had collapsed or were likely to collapse in the next few decades, until the remaining host had crossed. They had officially crossed into Boleares.
The duke sent scouts out, but it was already too late to do much. They camped in the woods, hoping it would hide their numbers from anybody watching from afar.
It was only the third time that Val had ever slept in the woods - and on one of those occasions, she'd been knocked unconscious from using too much natural magic at once. This time, it was in a tent with Niko and Violet… and Pudge. She'd been excited at the prospect of rooming with Niko without Ginn around to tell her to keep that door open. As glad as Val was to reconnect with Pudge, she did not appreciate not having Niko to herself.
Still, she cuddled up with her, each of them unbuttoning one side of their sleeping roll so they could share one undivided space, and Niko sidled up behind her, a hand draped over Val's side, her fingers resting on Val's belly in a way that made her flush in anticipation. In anticipation of more kissing? Val sure hoped so. But, in the meanwhile, she just lay there with Niko right behind her, a lazy smile on her face as she half-heartedly answered Pudge's endless barrage of questions.
"So you're basically the duke's personal wizard?" Pudge asked.
Val wasn't sure how to respond to that. For starters, Niko's breath was on her neck, her leg was draped over Val's shin, and all she wanted to do was hum in contentment. Second, she wasn't sure that girls could even be wizards. The terminology was a little confusing. For some areas of magic, there were clear names - a mage, druid, sorceress, alchemist, or necromancer had a pretty well-established area of expertise. Others, like wizard, witch, or elementalist were less clear-cut and could indicate talent in any number of fields. Moreover, she didn't like the idea of being the duke's personal anything. She was the duke's standard bearer because Mrs. Eatherfine had asked her to…
"I'm not sure girls can be wizards," she said eventually.
"Do you think I'll get the Gift?"
Pudge was about the age that Val had been when she'd got the gift, and boys usually got theirs a bit later. She shrugged and sighed happily. "Hope so," she said. "Going sleep now…"
"Oh… okay," Pudge said. "G'night, you two."
Val snuggled back into Niko and let her friend… her girlfriend… lean in and kiss her neck and move her hair back, and whisper into her ear, "good night, beautiful."
Val decided that campaigning was not a brutal grind. In fact, in some ways, it was downright nice.
+++++
She awoke to the sound of reveille, which was about when she usually woke up anyway. That had been ingrained from two years in Mrs. Lavoie's orphanage. With some hesitation, she lifted Niko's arm off of her and kissed her awake, which she imagined was probably the best way to wake up.
"Whaaat?" Pudge said.
Val turned to him and scowled, but that soon turned to a grin. He winked. There was no judgment there, only surprise. Without missing a beat, Pudge wriggled out of his sleeping roll and wandered out to relieve himself and let Val and Niko get dressed in relative privacy.
Niko yawned and slipped out of her roll. "Pudge seems like a good friend," she said.
"He is. We'll take him back to Verdenlecht with us."
"Okay."
The rule in camp, according to Tobbin, was that you had to be up, relieved, armed, fed, and in formation within thirty minutes of reveille, which was a tall order. Sometimes, you had even less and were lucky to be able to scarf any food down. Val was still trying to force down the last of her buttered toast when she mounted Tulip.
Pudge, who was now acting as assistant groom, had balked at untying the horse before Val mounted up, but Tulip was quite confident that she wouldn't wander off until Val was ready. Val whispered that she should file in next to the duke's squire (whom he was borrowing from Lord Baltur until Tobbin was satisfied with the new squire's training, since Val wouldn't be doing that part of the job), and Tulip plodded right into place.
It was a pleasant spring morning, the sun shining, the river rolling along behind them, the gentle breeze swaying in the trees. Val blew a kiss to Niko. Levin thought the gesture was meant for him and made a fairly horrified expression until Val blushed and pointed very expressly at Niko, which made everything fine.
Baron Zollen was discussing his strategy with the duke - while the duke was in charge, Val gathered that the baron was the one actually responsible for strategy and tactics. Duke Ansibald nodded to Val, who trotted out with him as he addressed the troops.
"Our scouts report that the enemy gauged our position during the night and are, even now, scrambling to erect defenses at Ford Leaven, which sits upon the ancient city of Reverest three miles distant from our location. It is my intention to ride into the town and capture it before they can set their defenses. We have the numeric advantage and the town is not well-defended, and so we anticipate our first victory toward a unified Sudria. Remember: whomever does not resist you is not your enemy, but a potential cousin and friend. And whomever does resist our might we will make wish had never raised arms against Aurilicht. I don't know about you, but yesterday only whet my appetite for victory! Onward, men!"
Val waved the pennant. The soldiers cheered. The duke raised his sword. They cheered again. Then Ansibald and Val both trotted back into formation and the units moved forward with the tromping of feet and the clattering of metal. She was getting very good at the routine.
As they approached the town, they passed old stone ruins of a long-dead city. The town that was built atop its ruins was much smaller, perhaps ten thousand people, with half of the buildings built from wood, brick, and thatch, and the other half built with the white, weathered stones of the old city, albeit with wood and brick forming everything past the second floor. They passed recently-felled trees, some of which had already been hauled off to construct palisades, now under construction. They could hear the pounding of hammers and droning of saws in the distance.
"Send out the messenger," Baron Zollen said. Waving a miniature version of Val's duke's pennant, the squire galloped off toward the town with their demands:
We consider this province to be our territory and, as such, mean your town and your people no harm. I, Duke Ansibald of Aurilicht, hereby offer clemency and reprieve for all defenders and townsfolk of Ford Leaven, provided an immediate surrender. No property will be taken from you and no penalty applied to you other than the requirement that you feed and house your new duke and his fighting host. If you will not surrender, we will make every effort to spare civilians, but every armed person will be put to the sword until surrender is declared and every building with a closed door will be put to the torch and razed. You have one hour to decide. If I do not hear the construction of defenses halted within fifteen minutes of the receipt of this message, I will assume you have already decided.
Your rightful duke,
Ansibald II of Aurilicht
They waited for fourteen long minutes, just within view of the town, provided you had a spyglass. They were already in the formation decided by the baron and ready to march on the town before the sound of saws and hammers finally stopped. The squire arrived two minutes later, galloping in with a rolled up parchment in his fist and a manic grin on his face. He handed the message to the baron, who handed it to Ansibald. The duke cleared his throat.
"Your grace, please accept our surrender. Ford Leaven is yours."
Val waved the pennant. The soldiers cheered. The duke raised his sword. They cheered again.
+++++
They had a massive feast that night, hosted by the Mayor of Ford Leaven.
Perhaps hosted was the wrong word, since the man clearly didn't have any say in the matter. The several local priests were there, too - priests of the Pale Order, obviously, since none of the other religions could openly practice in Boleares. However, the duke still allowed the Pale Order to practice freely in his nation, even if the Penintent Brothers were outright banned, and so they couldn't be too upset. Unlike their own sect, they were not being conquered by some fanatical faith hoping to stamp out all others. So they put on fake smiles that got less and less fake as the evening wore on and they downed alcohol, until they were dancing and laughing with the duke's soldiers.
Surprisingly (or perhaps not so surprisingly), there was a local priestess from the Old Sudren religion. She had a small sept of several dozen congregants, but they'd all been practicing in secret on account of the stigma against the religion. She sat at the table with the battle-mages - the was Gifted, but had never had much chance to develop her talents. She was utterly enthralled by the duke's mages, if also a bit taken aback.
"I hope I can speak freely," she said.
"It's a free country," Val said - and for the first time she could remember, she really meant it.
"Thank you, sorceress…"
Val raised her hand. "Not a sorceress, Priestess Rialen. That talk can get you into trouble."
"My apologies… I don't know the terminology. Are you a witch, then?"
"Maybe?"
"Miss Val, then… I am a bit… concerned… that young women and men so green have been conscripted into the service. What did your parents say?"
Val was about to point out that she didn't have any parents, but that wasn't true. Not anymore. She had two parents, and they loved her and she loved them. At least she hoped they did. Ginn had cried the whole morning that Val left and Ette was incensed that he wasn't allowed to ride out with their host. But he and Sabine were needed for training and maintaining the city's civilian defense force now and, he grudgingly admitted, they were pretty much indispensable. Ginn had given Val three family amulets that were supposed to give luck and protection, though all three only had weak magical signatures and Val couldn't tell what, if anything, they actually did.
"My mom cried all morning," Val said. "But I already made my pledge to the duke, and Mrs. Eatherfine didn't force me."
"Who?"
"Hyacinth, the duke's mom," Val clarified. "She's a dowager duchess. She asked me to be the duke's standard and I agreed."
"Ms. Bonnikin only sniffled a little," Niko said. "But that's Sabine for you. She was pretty upset."
Yes, it would probably take an awful lot to get Sabine to outright cry.
Priestess Rialen asked about the other septs in the city and how they were doing - she'd traveled back and forth to Verdenlecht with some regularity, since they'd only closed the border in the past few months. In the past, she'd even sent Gifted to Priestes Oestel for training, though theirs was a very small sept and they hadn't had anybody Gifted in about five years. When Val pointed out that fully a third of the duke's host followed the Old Sudren faith, the priestess excused herself and wandered around to chat with them and thank them for liberating the town.
"She seems nice," Niko said.
While the duchy had no hard and fast rule about drinking ages, it was the duke's decision that nobody under sixteen could have more than one cup of ale or mead. At first, Val was disappointed, since she rather liked the mulled mead they drank at holidays like Mittvanter, but this was a tart, slightly astringent mead that she didn't care for at all. Levin seemed to like it, though, and he'd attracted the attentions of a local girl who wanted to learn all about being a battle-mage, which Levin was happy to indulge between drinks and smooching.
Levin had only ever been in one battle, and that was just a technicality - he'd been two horses down from Val watching with everybody else in the reserve cavalry. Though, to be fair, that was about as much action as the first cavalry had got, only they had to charge at the enemy's rear before striking a few and waiting for them to surrender.
At some point, one of the knights struggled to his feet and gave a rambling, incoherent toast to considerable applause, followed by another knight who did likewise. Then Duke Ansibald stood and raised his hands and everybody but a few oblivious drunkards quieted down - though they were soon informed that the duke intended to give a toast. Ansibald smiled, his cheeks a bit red from too much drink, as well as from the lipstick of a coterie of local women who may or may not have been prostitutes. His teeth were as pearly-white as ever.
"Friends, countrymen, brothers and sisters, subjects of Aurilicht, tonight is a great night!" He said it in Arleng and then in Peliac, which is what most of the locals spoke - he had an accent but was pretty fluent. "Tonight marks the first night that Aurilicht and Boleares are united, if only in one town. You are the first among many - our path is the path of destiny and we will soon march upon Wayfair. We will soon march upon St. Sylvestine, and we will overturn the corrupt Regency council and inform them that we do not care for their vision for our lands. We'll kick their arses right to the streets!"
The crowd cheered and drank, no pennant-waving required. Even Val cheered, as she was the slightest bit tipsy after a whole mug of mead. It got better as it warmed up, and then got even better as she warmed up. Niko screamed in Val's ear and kissed her cheek, and Val kissed her back. Some people at the next table over gave her dirty looks, but they could suck a big egg through a small tube.
"Off with their heads!" somebody shouted.
The duke raised his hand - more silence. "Aye, we may do that, too, for this is a bloody business what we do. I have no desire to pit brother across brother, and every town as wise as Reverest I shall offer the same mercy I offer here. Yes, I use the ancient name of this city, for it was once the capital of Aurilicht in an era when all were united under the Kingdom of Sudria. And I wish to unite all of Sudria once again, starting with the marriage of Aurilicht and Boleares, which were once her crown jewels. This is not the Bolearic or Aurlic motherland… it is the motherland of all Sudrans, whether by ancestry or as an adopted home. And tonight, I proclaim myself Ansibald, the rightful King of Sudria, the first of my name! March under my banner, brothers and sisters, and we shall be great again!"
"King Ansibald! King Ansibald!" the crowd chanted, and Val chanted it, too, and somebody had thought to refill her mead even though she wasn't supposed to get more than the one mug. She looked to Niko, and then to Pudge… they chanted it, too, a thunderous roar throughout the mayor's great hall. "King Ansibald! King Ansibald!"
Val's mind reiterated that campaigning was not a brutal grind. In fact, in some ways, it was downright nice.
+++++
She awoke the next morning with a headache, though it wasn't as bad as what she'd been lead to believe hangovers felt like. She drank about a quart of water and fetched some more for Niko and Pudge and only fit a bit bleary a few minutes later. They'd spent the night in the guestroom of a local clockmaker - Gus would have appreciated the clockwork almost as much as Val did. Sometimes, the two of them would take clocks apart for fun and try to reassemble them in different ways.
The duke's regiment had occupied every inn, hostel, spare room, and stables in the whole town, but nobody had needed to sleep in a tent. They then marched out of town, leaving out the eastern gate rather than the western entrance they'd entered through. The duke left a hundred men back in the town for defense while demanding that the local defenders swear an oath of loyalty and accompany him on his campaign to make up for the deficit.
"Why are we heading east?" Niko whispered. "I thought we were supposed to head back to Verdenlecht after we routed the reserves?"
"The duke wants to keep going," Val whispered.
She'd probably heard more than she was supposed to hear. That happened sometimes - people assumed Val was just a kid, even though she was a few months shy of thirteen and pretty observant. Baron Zollen had reminded the duke that his mother expected the regiment back. That they could leave more men behind in Ford Leaven, return to Verdenlecht, and use the town as a staging point for a larger offensive.
But the duke was insistent that they could safely strike at the Cafernine Valley, too - the breadbasket of western Boreales. If they could capture the valley and defend it, that would hamper the Bolearic forces and force them into a costly battle, giving them an opportunity to surround Wayfair and starve it out if they were successful.
The baron pointed out that the ancient fortress at Garudon lay at the valley's easternmost pass, to which Ansibald pointed out that they could capture the several small towns and villages in the valley, find the families of the fort's defenders, and force them to surrender the fort before he shipped their families back to Verdenlecht as hostages. After such a great victory, he could return triumphant to Verdenlecht and announce himself as king there, too, officially and for all the world to see.
"It's very risky, your grace," Baron Zollen had said.
"Yes, but well worth it. It's my decision to make."
"Yes, your grace."
So, instead of heading back home, they marched out the eastern gate to applause and fanfare. The girl who'd been smooching with Levin dashed out from the crowd to kiss him and made him promise to write. Val was quickly gaining a favorable opinion of warfare - sure, there was a little violence in parts, but it was mostly pageantry and being cheered as you marched in or out of different towns. At least that was the duke's-eye view of it, and she rode very close to the duke.
They rode past three small villages, little clusters of wood and plaster huts with no more than a few streets and a handful of shops nestled within the sparsely-wooded hills. The largest housing perhaps two hundred people, forcing the aldermen there to swear their allegiance to the duke. Since none of the settlements had more than a fraction of the size of the duke's fighting host, they quickly agreed and the duke got to check off three more conquests. There was farmland there, too, with farms that stretched for miles and the great forested slopes of gentle mountains in the distance.
Val had never seen real mountains before. Based on storybooks, she'd expected them to be capped with snow, but only a few of them had snow at their peaks, and all of those were still well-carpeted with dense pine forest all the way up to close to the peak. Sometimes, there would be great rock faces in the hazy distance where something had sheared off great chunks of the mountain, but even those were covered with greenery and little strips of forest, suggesting that whatever had done that had done it many centuries ago. Even in the late afternoon, the air was clear and pleasant, the sun slowly dropping behind them as they headed east into the valley.
Baron Zollen peered through a spyglass before adjusting the focus and handing it to the duke. With a little squinting, Val could see a scattering of huts in the distance, followed by the hazy wisps of fire smoke streaming up beyond that - something much larger than the villages they'd encountered earlier.
"That's Caferton," the baron said. "Home of about twenty-five thousand and the largest town in the valley. We should camp in the hills for the night while our scouts assess the villages defenses. It may be we can take it easily, but maybe we can't."
The duke shook his head. "We'll give them the same ultimatum we gave Ford Leaven. If they refuse, no harm done - we can still camp in the hills and let them stew over it. And if they accept, that's another town captured with no loss of life. I'd rather not destroy my own kingdom if I can avoid it."
"Your grace, we cannot give them a whole night to prepare. The difference between one hour to prepare and ten hours is astronomical. We must either take them by surprise or wait for reinforcements."
"Very well, baron. We'll overnight in the hills north of here, let your scouts do their work, and then deliver our one-hour ultimatum at dawn. Does that plan meet your approval?"
"It's less risky, your grace," the baron allowed. "I'll see that it's done."
+++++
Once again, Val shared a tent with Niko and Pudge. Niko curled up with her, which was nice, especially given the chilly air of the valley, but she was worried. Something weighed on her, some ominous foreboding that something bad was going to happen. And she worried bout Ginn and Ette… she was supposed to be back already. She knew that the baron had sent runners back so they would know what was happening back in Verdenlecht… but they'd know that Val was marching ever further away from home and into danger with the duke's regiment. She didn't want her adopted parents to worry about her, even though she was glad that she now had somebody to worry about her back home. And she worried that Niko and Pudge were in the same ominous boat that she was in.
"I'm worried," Niko said. "Maybe it's stupid, but it feels like something bad is going to happen."
"Yeah," Pudge mumbled from his side of the tent. "Like a heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach just pushing everything down."
"Yeah, exactly."
"Maybe it's the camp stew," Val said. Niko pinched her side, which made them both giggle.
"We're just kids. We shouldn't be at war anyway," Pudge said.
That was a good point. Regardless of how Gifted she was and how many times she'd sparred and gone through exercises in classes with Ette, Sabine, and Ginn, it felt vaguely audacious that, at less than thirteen, she was now an instrumental part of Duke… King Ansibald's army. Val liked fighting for sport. She liked it a lot, almost as much as doing magic. But she didn't want to kill anybody who didn't want to kill her in particular.
You couldn't blame people for trying to kill you if you marched right into their valley and announced that it belonged to you now, whether they liked it or not. If somebody had marched into her home, angry and well-armed, and announced that the Vinzennos would now be paying rent to them, Val wouldn't have taken it well.
"I don't want to kill anybody," Val said eventually.
"They'll probably give up like the people in Ford Leaven, and we'll have a big feast and go back home," Niko said, and she pulled Val closer.
"Yeah, probably." Val knew that neither of them believed that.
Pudge was already snoring, bless his heart.
+++++
The next morning was grim and a bit rainy, a cold rain misting out of the sky and buffeted by the gentle breeze in such a way that you could never quite cover up against it, but it didn't make you anything more than aggravatingly damp. The rain had been heavier over the night, so there were puddles and muck. Since they were too close to Caferton to play reveille, a squire ran around camp slapping all of the tents with a wooden paddle to wake the occupants up, but Val was already awake. She'd awoken at dawn's first light and hadn't been able to sleep.
"Niko, wake up," Val whispered.
"No… five more minutes, Ms. Bonnikin," Niko groaned.
"Reveille," she whispered.
Niko's eyes fluttered open, and she instinctively smiled when she saw Val, which was just about the greatest feeling in the world. Val couldn't be too disappointed in a gray and misty morning when she got to wake up next to Niko. Pudge was already out, giving them time and space to change while he did his business.
The duke's… king's runner had already galloped off to Caferton to deliver their surrender ultimatum, and by the time they left the hills and marched out to the main road, it was approaching an hour after delivery. As they passed by fields of barley and sunflowers, the messenger came galloping out from the township, puddles splashing and kicking up muddy water in his wake. He didn't look too pleased with his message.
"Well?" Ansibald asked.
"They say you can go to, um, heck, and they'd be happy to help you get there," he said.
The king chuckled. "Cheeky bastards. Well, if they want a fight then we can give them one."
"My lord, there are quite a few men down the road," Val said.
She had sharper eyes than most, but the king and the baron were able to confirm through a glance in the spyglass.
"That's about four hundred men in the field and four hundred who think they're hiding in the town," Baron Zollen said. "With the reinforcements your mother sent in the night, we should be able to take them, but it'll be bloody business."
"What's your plan, baron?"
"Bring our testudo infantry in close - they can take a battering from the bolt-casters for a bit and get them to reveal their range and number. Plus, they won't risk an infantry charge of their own while they're firing volleys at us. They'll keep everybody back and safe. That will give us the time we need for our reinforcements to move into position and take their flank. They've hardly got any cavalry, so we should be able to sweep right through with our own once they start to maneuver to counter the flank, but it'll take all of our cavalry and it'll be a bloody business. That'll be a decisive win if it plays right."
The king slapped his fist into his palm. "Finally, some action! All right, an excellent plan - if we pull this off, you just might be more than a baron soon."
"Thank you, your excellency. I'll see it's done." The baron turned his horse to face them. "All right, soldiers! I want my shields here and ready to march with bolts at the ready! Match their width and steady…"
Soon, Val was trotting with the rest of the cavalry into position, trampling right through a poor field of barley that had never done them any wrong. From there, it was a gradual slope downward to the township. While the town had a wall, it only encircled a small part of the whole town. It had been built a long time ago and, as Caferton grew, it had spread out well beyond the walls. Even now, Val could see squads of men attempting to disguise themselves among the buildings. If they thought they were being sneaky, they were fooling themselves. She watched the heavy shields march into formation, built up into a single overlapping shield of metal and could barely make out the clicks and clacks of black bolts bouncing off the heavy shields, though she was too far away to make out the individual bolts.
A testudo formation marched with more shields than it needed to maintain the formation, so even when one or two men fell to arrows that made it through the tiny holes or managed to penetrate the weak spot in a shield, there were enough to maintain the shell. If need be, they could always contract into a tighter line if too many men fell. So far, though, Val only counted one dead and two limping away, which was hardly any after three volleys. Another dozen yards and they could open into a charge and plow right over the bolt-casters, and yet the fools just stood there wasting bolt after bolt.
"Hey, those guys are running out of the town," Val said.
The squads of men who'd been hiding in the town suddenly streamed out, running behind the Bolearic infantry arrayed behind their bolt-casters, each carrying something large and black. Meanwhile, their cavalry took off to the north, toward were the Aureline reinforcements would soon be emerging from the hills for the flank attack.
"Something's not right…" Val said.
The infantry rushed out ahead of the squads of men with black boxes… the boxes looked very much like bolt-casters, only they were about twice the size in every direction. Suddenly, Val had a horrible, lurching sense of déjà-vu, the distinct sense that she'd experienced this before. She'd died here before.
"Advance cavalry, take the fight to those infantry!" the baron shouted, and about forty of the cavalry streamed past Val and the duke, rushing toward the oncoming infantry. Meanwhile, the testudo of heavy shields was in disarray, half of their men suddenly down, and retreating to meet the regular Aurilic infantry on the field.
"Shields up!" Val shouted. "Battle-mages! Shields up!"
She cast her own shield just in time to hear the whizzing whine of bolts being fired from about twice the range they should have been capable of. The bolts were the length of Val's whole arm and tipped with something green and slightly-glowing - something alchemical. They wavered off the shields, lost most of their impact, and curved right down into the last few members of the advance cavalry as they clashed with the infantry. One of the bolts went right through a man in heavy armor and his horse.
"How can they reach us?" Baron Zollen shouted. "Retreat!"
"No! We must charge! Around me, men! Around me!" the king shouted. "Battle-mages, maintain your shields!"
Most of the men did manage to rally around him, for all of about five seconds. Then the next salvo of bolts zipped in. The shield took most of the bolts, but Val felt it buckling - not all of the battle-mages were as strong as her, and she could only keep her shield strong for a few more of those. And, since their whole shield was in resonance, that meant gaps were starting to form. One… two… three out of about fifty zipped through, one of them striking the king right through the chest, throwing him off his horse and pinning him to the ground.
"The king! Sweet Almighty, the king!" somebody shouted.
Val grabbed Niko by the arm and shouted, "We have to get out of here! We're all going to die!" She pointed to the duke's panicking horse, telling the mount to calm down - which he did, a bit. "Pudge, get on that horse!"
"I can barely ride!"
"Ride or die!" she shouted. She liked Pudge a lot, but if it came between the choice of everybody dying or just him, it wasn't a hard choice. Pudge, being a clever boy, grasped the gravity of the situation and managed to mount just as Val galloped past him and into the southern hills.
Steel clashed on steel or cut into bone around her and men and women screamed. The rest of the cavalry were soon in full retreat backward, rather than perpendicular to the attack as Val had galloped. Two of the heavy bolts zipped to the ground near her, but soon all of the attention was drawn to the remaining Aurilic troops. She kept galloping of the rise of a hill, through a secluded little homestead, trampling a perfectly innocent herb garden, and over the next rise before she stopped to see if any of her friends were still with her.
OvidLemma
As always, please leave a comment below! Preferably in some sort of poetic format! I love to hear from my readers!
Thanks for reading, and make sure you follow me here to catch my latest releases! I plan on releasing chapters of this story about three times a week, but I haven't decided on what days yet. Advance chapters are available on my Patreon. If you liked this story, don't forget to check out my many other stories Scribble Hub, Patreon, or Amazon (free with Kindle Unlimited)!
https://www.patreon.com/OvidLemma
https://www.amazon.com/s?i=digital-text&rh=p_27:Ovid+Lemma
-Ovid
