Phoenix Destiny

Twenty-Five

They were only a few days’ ride from the castle and already surrounded by rolling hills of gently flowing heather. Every hill had the potential of hiding danger. Jaron sat easily in the saddle, aware of the growing anxiety of his men.

It had taken them nearly a moon to make it this far. Jaron had refused the king’s offer to stay in the castle and camped in its shadow instead. They had set off in the early light. Their pace was not overly fast, but Jaron did not allow for extended rest.

“Nervous?” Dak asked, riding even with him.

“No,” Jaron answered without looking at him.

“There’s no reason to hurry. They’re just a bunch of farmers and laborers.”

“I don’t take anything for granted. Dorrall had only farmers at his command.”

“Never going to let that go, are you?”

“The people we’re up against know this territory, and they’ve had ample time to prepare.”

“Right.”

“The problem with our line of work is that we always have the disadvantage of territory. One day, our skill may not be enough to overcome it.”

“Well, aren’t you just chipper this morning?”

“Dak, take your men and ride ahead.”

“You got it, boss,” Dak reined his horse around, raised a hand and gestured. His scouts broke rank to join him as he rode ahead of the company.

Jaron slowed his pace a little more. He released Ivy, who quickly flew out of sight. This was the first time the General sent someone else to handle a contract. Yet that’s not why he was anxious.

His headaches came and went with greater frequency. Each one left him uncertain of where he was and what he was doing. But now was not a time for distractions. Jaron was sure something was calling him, but he had no idea what it wanted.

Ivy suddenly streaked through the sky, screeching.

“To Arms!”

No sooner did they draw their swords then a wall of men broke cover, racing down the hills in waist-high grass. Armed with pitchforks, clubs and torches, they rushed headlong into the mounted soldiers.

“Break and circle!” Jaron shouted, spurring Gambler forward.

Half the company followed, while the second half rode off in the opposite direction. The guerrillas cheered at their quick and unchallenged victory, but the celebration died as the riders circled, reformed and charged.

Jaron cleaved through a pitchfork and kicked down its wielder before turning on another. His company forced their poorly equipped opponents onto the road.

Why attack now?

Jaron’s mind screamed. The road was open and there was little shelter. Their opponents didn’t even make use of the high ground. The rebels were at a clear disadvantage against mounted troops. There was no winning strategy for this ambush.

Ivy’s screech announced Dak’s return and the scouts raced into the fray, outflanking the rebels trying to retreat. The dragon flew over the battlefield, screeching warning. Havelock heard her first and directed his soldiers further south, pressing the overwhelmed rebels into a pocket.

Jaron reined Gambler around as he swung his sword and cleaved through a stumbling opponent. Ivy screeched above. The stallion spun, so its rider faced the new threat.

Errol’s men pushed back the right flank, slowly maneuvering their enemies into a tightening ball. Swords clashed as his soldiers encircled the failing forces of their enemies. Sounds faded as Jaron pulled Gambler up, letting his men dispatch the last of their opponents. Sheathing his sword, Jaron raised his arm and Ivy landed. The dragon chirped as they studied the battlefield.

No survivors, as agreed, Jaron mused, clenching his jaw at the senselessness of it. If he had led the rebels, he would never have attempted an open battle. With a better knowledge of territory, guerrilla warfare would have been more effective.

Dak galloped up to Jaron, reining in his tired mount. Nodding to his leader, he said, “Not a bad fight for a bunch of disgruntled farmers.”

“Mhmm,” Jaron reined Gambler around and rode away from the bloodshed. “Organize the troops and do a quick survey of the area. We’ll retrieve our earnings and depart.”

Dak whistled to call the troops, gesturing with his arm for them to make a patrol of the area. Then he kicked his horse and followed Jaron. Pulling up his horse to match Gambler’s gait, he said, “The men are tired, so are the horses.”

“I’m not terribly fond of subtlety, Dak,” Jaron said.

“They need a rest.”

“Everton is between here and Castle Bourke. We’ll stop there for a night.”

“You are welcome to join us. Sometimes I think it would do you good.”

“Meaning what?” Jaron brought Gambler to a halt.

“Meaning you’ve been moody lately. Anything you’d like to discuss?”

“No.”

“Wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain Kilan princess, would it?”

Jaron glared at the soldier.

“I saw how she looked at you.”

Jaron’s gaze narrowed.

Dak looked ready to say something more but wisely remained silent.

Jaron waited a moment then said, “Tell the men we’ll stay in Everton tonight.”

The troop followed behind their tireless leader. Ivy flew ahead, circling back every now and again with comforting chirps. Nearing nightfall, they reached the outskirts of the large village. Everton was, perhaps, the only profitable market in the area. Jaron led them within its boundaries before pulling up Gambler and dismounting. He gave Dak payment for feed, water and shelter for the horses and men.

Jaron watched the others hurry to the inn and its amusements. A serving maid stood by the door, beckoning the eager patrons into the light and warmth as the suns set. She smiled at Jaron and curled her finger as if tugging him with an invisible string. He turned away and led Gambler out of the village with Ivy perched on the saddle. Once they were beyond the village borders, the dragon leapt into the air to hunt.

The trio often walked together, away from everyone else. Despite his new luxury, allowing him a room at any inn, Jaron still preferred the open country. Perhaps Artac was right. Maybe he did feel guilty entering such places.

He climbed into the saddle and sent Gambler galloping across the country. Borden was a wide and open country with mountains to the east and a forest far north. There was ample space for a horse to run.

Despite their recent battle, Gambler tirelessly carried Jaron a league from the village. It seemed the horse could run forever. Out of sight of the village, Gambler slowed to a jog. The stallion halted and stared at the distant forest. His nostrils flared, and his ears flicked back and forth. Gambler started forward again, continuing north. Jaron wasn’t aware of the stallion’s sudden urgency, muddling over other concerns.

It wasn’t until they entered the forest that Jaron realized the stallion had gone its own way. He reined it to a halt and took in his surroundings. The trees were thick and barren, having already shed their autumn color.

A breeze howled faintly through the bar branches. His skin prickled and his head pounded. Jaron turned the stallion and urged it back the way they came.

Gambler took two steps before pivoting to face the opposite direction. Jaron tried to rein the stallion around again. Fighting the bit, Gambler circled several times before stopping in the same direction. The stallion swung its head around to look at its rider. Its eyes seemed to shine in the moonlight.

It had been several seasons since the stallion first led Jaron to the mercenary encampment. Since then, it showed no signs of leading him until now. Something told Jaron that wherever the horse wanted to take him, it was important he went.

“All right,” Jaron said. “You aren’t going anywhere until you get what you want. As you outweigh me, I guess I don’t have any choice. Right?”

Gambler grunted.

Jaron gave the stallion its head.

Gambler immediately started forward. He was alert, listening to the call his rider couldn’t hear. The stallion jogged down the road then turned onto a game trail. The night air was cool, and an eerie fog slipped among the trees. Slowing to a walk, Gambler entered a small clearing with a near-perfect circular pond. Here, the stallion halted with a snort. Jaron dismounted. The hair at the back of his neck stood on end and a chill shivered up his back.