The tip of the spear tore through his left trouser leg, grazing the skin. Will tried to move closer, drawing his sword, but his opponent was too quick. The sentry backpedaled, bringing the point of the spear back in line for another thrust, and Will was forced to retreat. It was quickly becoming obvious that the instructors hadn’t been lying—a sword was a lousy weapon against a spear in an open field. Making matters worse, he wasn’t wearing any armor.
I’m about to die. Will took advantage of the distance between them to turn and run.
The sentry ran after him, but in the dark the sentry quickly lost sight of him. Will circled around, watching the guard stumble through the night, then he closed on the man from the rear. He had just gotten close enough when the man spotted him again, but it was too late. Will’s spell connected with the sentry’s source, and he sent a powerful pulse of turyn into the man. Before the soldier could recover, he ran forward and thrust his sword into the sentry’s belly.
It was anything but a clean death. The soldier groaned and fell forward, vomiting onto Will as he stumbled and tried to stay on his feet. Will thrust again, this time higher, but his sword caught in the soldier’s gambeson, merely grazing the man’s ribs.
In the end it took him three more thrusts to finish the sentry off, and the man screamed repeatedly, begging him for mercy. Will felt cold tears running down hot cheeks as he tried to suppress his guilt. Then he looked around for the last remaining sentry.
The nauseated soldier had gotten to his feet and was running back toward the enemy encampment. Will went after him, catching up easily as the man fell and started retching again. What followed was simple murder. He felt a wave of nausea pass over him that had nothing to do with magic as he finished the man off, but he didn’t vomit.
Closing his eyes tightly, Will spent several minutes getting himself under control. Then he bent and cleaned his sword on the dead man’s gambeson before sheathing it. He set his feet on a westerly course, back toward his friends. He had a report to deliver.
***
The companies had already assembled into marching order when he arrived. The camp perimeter guard took him directly to Lord Fulstrom, who was still in his pavilion. The baron had just finished getting his breastplate on with the assistance of another man when Will came in. “You took long enough,” said Lord Fulstrom. “Did you learn anything?”
Will wasted no time. “They have nearly twice as many men, but their camp is in chaos, milord.”
“What does that mean?”
He pulled the bundle of papers out of his tunic. “I took these from the table in the commander’s tent. They looked important.”
Fulstrom thumbed through the papers quickly. “It’s a mixture of logistics reports and other minutiae. Some of it may be important. Unfortunately, you took too long. We’re about to march. These will have to wait until later.” His gaze returned to Will and fixed him with an intense stare. “Did you say you got into their commander’s tent?”
Will nodded. “I was caught after entering, Your Lordship. I killed the commander and ran. After that, everything went crazy. The earth started shaking and there was fire everywhere. If it hadn’t been for all the confusion, I might not have gotten out.”
“I can’t even imagine how you got into the center of their camp. Didn’t they have guards? How did you kill their commander? Wasn’t he protected?” asked Fulstrom.
He knew he was treading on dangerous ground. He couldn’t simply admit to using magic on the sentries. “There was some sort of commotion in the camp. I think two of the officers were arguing. When the fires started, the guards left their posts, so I ducked into the commander’s tent. After I killed him, everything got worse. I think whatever magic he was using went out of control.” Will was careful not to say the word ‘elemental’ since he hadn’t learned it until after studying with Arrogan, and he didn’t want to give away just how much he knew about sorcerers and their workings.
The baron rubbed his chin, muttering, “That makes no sense. Why would his elementals go out of control, and who would be fighting in their camp? Are you sure you’ve told me the truth?”
“To the best of my understanding, Your Lordship, which is limited. A lot of things happened that were incomprehensible to me,” Will lied.
“Well, your account of their numbers squares with the rough estimates the other scouts gave. If their camp is in disarray, we had best not waste the opportunity,” said Lord Fulstrom. “Find your armor and report back to your company. We march soon.”
Grateful to be out from under the baron’s suspicious gaze, Will returned to his tent. He had worried that it, along with his gear, might have been packed already, but it appeared that the army intended to return to the camp. His bedroll and kit bag were still where he had left them. Working quickly, he shrugged into his gambeson and mail and hurried to find Company B.
Dave gave him a strange look when he fell in with the others in his squad. “I thought you had deserted.”
“I asked to help them scout,” said Will.
Sven and Corporal Taylor glanced at each other while Tiny merely nodded. Then the big man spoke. “At least they’re smart enough to listen to you now.”
Sven grumbled. “Rule number one as a soldier, never volunteer. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“I’d volunteer to go the hell home if I thought they’d let me,” said Dave. “I’ve got a bad feeling about today.”
“They should let you rest,” said Tiny. “You haven’t slept since yesterday, have you?”
Corporal Taylor interrupted, “Fat chance of that. They know we’re outnumbered. I heard the sergeants talking. They want every man that can walk on the field today.”
“If anyone should be given a rest, it ought to be me,” groused Dave. “I’m still covered in bruises.”
“You look fine to me,” offered Sven. “If anything, the swelling improved your ugly looks.”
“It feels worse than you think,” whined Dave. “I just want to make sure it doesn’t turn into something more serious, like a spear in the gut.”
“A spear would probably improve your conversation skills,” observed Tiny.
Dave’s eyes narrowed. “I couldn’t talk. I’d be dead, idiot.”
Tiny nodded in agreement. “Exactly.”
Sergeant Nash yelled, “Silence in the ranks!” and moments later the orders to march went out. They did the first two miles in a column five men wide before switching to a combat formation that stretched out across most of the width of the pass. The main line was three ranks deep, though one unit, Company E, remained behind the lines with Lord Fulstrom.
The fact that they only had one company in reserve was a sad testimony to how undermanned they were. The shield wall passed over the now-conscious but still helpless sentries, and the men of Company E were tasked with rounding them up and putting them under a small guard. The main line was in sight of the small earthworks before a horn blast in the enemy camp announced their presence.
They marched on without pause, while in the distance Will could see the enemy scrambling to get their men into formation and prepare to receive them. We caught them off-guard, but will it be enough?