DISCLAIMER: Tortall and its inhabitants belong to Tamora
Pierce, and used with her (indirect) permission.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: To
those who’ve asked: the romance will come, eventually. This section was written 07/01, when I was
on vacation, and it was the last time I worked on it up until a week ago.
Chapter 6: A Whiff
of War
The next day, Kel’s troop rode out at four in the
morning. It was a fairly difficult
trek, following the path of the river rather than the road, and several times
Kel had to nudge Merric awake before he fell off of his mount. Kel found it odd to be leading the caravan
instead of falling back to keep the other horses safe from Peachblossom’s bite;
but the large, ornery gelding cared little whether he was in the front or the
rear, so long as no one gave him trouble.
The knights were good company. Unlike the other squires, they were quite used to waking at all
hours of the night in order to deal with an emergency spidren hunt or a centaur
uprising. Sir Geoffrey was quick to share
trail mix, and Sir Sacherell’s mount was among the few who actually got along
with Peachblossom. Crown and her flock
were comfortable with the friendly knight as well, and a dusting of feathers
were often seen on his shoulders and on his horse. Conal, of course, was always a handful; but he was remarkably
well behaved under Kel’s direction. She
decided that a prankster like him would best be placed covering the traces of
the party’s passing.
After an hour’s ride they built their camp and set about protecting
it. Kel assigned sentry duties as Roald
traced steps around the area, clockwise and counter-, murmuring under his
breath whilst dropping herbs and branches.
Kel knew that with his protection spell, no one outside the circle would
be able to clearly see the camp.
Kel had placed Faleron on the first sentry duty, but
quickly began to regret it. Faleron had
asked to be placed in charge of the messenger pigeons as well as the horn used
to sound for danger or attack. But what
if he was the spy? Wouldn’t that be a
prime position for someone who wanted them to fail? Her uneasiness went away as quickly as it had come. She was just being overly sensitive; chances
were best that she would never discover her spy, so it was useless to waste
time thinking about it when there was work to be done.
After camp was set up, they spent the morning reviewing
strategies and preparing equipment. The
arrowheads were blunt and covered with chalk, to mark an opponent with a splash
of color when struck. Each person wore
practice pads according to their positions in the battle plans. As a potential staff fighter, Kel padded her
shoulders and torso, knowing that any opponent would go for her ribs or
collarbone.
The morning was quiet.
Their only concern about an attack came from Cleon’s group, but Roald
assured them that everyone would know without a doubt if someone came into
their camp, and Merric and Yancen had set up numerous twig-and-rock traps
outside of Roald’s ring. Around noon,
after eating a lunch of bread, dried meat, nuts, and fruit, Kel decided to set
her plan into action. She sent a
messenger bird to Cleon’s group, agreeing on an earlier-proposed battle
plan. Then she gathered a small
party—herself, Yancen, Sacherell, and Conal—and rode toward the palace.
They were on patrol, she told them, to see what kind of
action--or inaction--was going on in the other two sectors. Vague boundary lines had been established
the evening before, when Lord Wyldon had given them post-dinner instructions.
“These boundaries have been placed by your advisors and
myself upon reviewing your battle plans,” he had stated. “If you are retreating from an ill-planned
invasion, consider yourself in your own friendly lands again. And if you venture beyond the lines,
consider it a justifiable cause for war if you’re on enemy ground.”
Now Kel intended to use that lecture to her
advantage. Raoul had clear orders--she
just had to make sure her group was close enough to be mistaken for having
crossed the line without ever doing so.
It was over fifteen minutes before the forest ended and
the palace wall came into view; the entrance from which her clan left that
morning wasn’t even visible from her current angle, they had traveled so far
within the Royal Forest. But with the
spyglass Sacherell was carrying, she could see two sentries on the parapets of
the fortified wall. She made her way
to the forest’s edge, motioning for the others to follow her lead.
“Kel,” Yancen hissed.
“If we go ten yards out of these woods, we start the war.”
“I want a better view,” she answered calmly, urging
Peachblossom forward.
Sir Sacherell gave Yancen a warning look. “You’re lucky that Squire Keladry values the
input of her troops; I can name several captains who would punish you for such
doubt.” His severe tone caused Yancen
to flush and his head bowed slightly.
Kel thought it was a little harsh--especially since Yancen
already had a knight master and was a seasoned squire who was following her own
instructions--but she said nothing. She
was distracted by the movement on the wall.
When the party had stepped no more than five feet into the
field, an arrow whizzed by Kel’s head, grazing her cheek and imbedding itself
into the tree at her back.
Yancen sputtered angrily but no words formed. Conal, instead, took up the tall boy’s
argument. “Kel, are you mad? You just got us into a war without any
allies!”
She wiped the blood off of her face with the back of her
hand and turned to him. Grinning wryly
and gesturing to the area around them, she spoke with a calm but commanding
voice. “We’re hardly two yards from the
woods. The palace sentry’s mistake is
ground for my declaration of war--and gives us room to plead to Cleon on the
terms of the alliance.” Her gaze went
back to the palace wall, over a hundred yards away. Soldiers were gathering, looking at her group.
Dismounting, Kel unsheathed her sword and suck it into the
ground, marking their spot for precision.
“Take this, too,” Conal said, pulling a piece of cloth
from one of his packs. It was a blue
and cream banner with the Mindelan crest—the banner he used during tournaments. Kel draped it over her sword, amused by her
brother’s flair for the dramatic.
“Back to the camp,” Kel said with a small smile. “We have to send messages to the other
factions.” She mounted and led the
group back toward their base.
Conal and Sacherell fell back as they rode, leaving Yancen
the privacy to apologize to Kel. “So
this was planned all along? I’m sorry I
doubted you, but why didn’t you tell us the plan? And just who is the spy in Joren’s group that shot at you?”
“I was worried about spies,” she explained. “That’s why I didn’t tell everyone the
plan. I figured that with as few people
in on it as possible, the chances of it leaking back to Joren or Cleon were
lessened. Only Sir Sacherell and I
knew—and Lord Raoul. He’s our spy.”
Yancen paused, contemplating for a moment. “So this was all just your trick to get us
into the war with the best advantage?”
Kel nodded.
“But what will happen to your spy? Id he plays innocent, he’ll get in loads of
trouble with Joren; if he reveals himself, it becomes clear that the war was an
act of /our/ aggression.”
Kel nodded again.
The thought had occurred to her.
“Lord Raoul is a seasoned warrior.
Even if he makes a mistake, Joren will trust him more than the squires
in his group. He is more than capable
of taking care of himself. If we can
utilize him again, that would be wonderful.
But we can’t count on him any longer.”
****
“So are we at war now?” Merric asked when they explained
the situation to everyone back at the camp.
“Not formally,” Kel answered. “I need to meet with Cleon, then Joren. War challenges and declarations have to go through before the
battle; that’s why Lord Wyldon told us to prepare enough for three days.” She scribbled notes onto scrolls and put
them in the miniature canisters, ready to be tied to the pigeons’ feet and
flown to both parties once Roald gave the spell. Normally magic wasn’t needed for messenger birds, but her group’s
were only trained to go to the palace--not to the king’s hunting lodge, where
Cleon’s group was based.
“So now we wait,” Yancen scowled.
“War isn’t something that’s over and done with in a
moment,” Sir Geoffrey said calmly.
“There are weeks and weeks of waiting in camps, wondering when the king
will give you the go-ahead. Armies have
to have time to plan battles. Even
minor skirmishes can involve days of waiting for the other army to cross your
path--and the closer you are to the beginning of a war, the worse the wait will
be.”
Kel enjoyed hearing the knight’s cool wisdom. Working with Geoffrey and Sacherell--and
even Conal--was really a treat for her.
She and the others took time to polish their weapons and shields while
the three large knights shared tales of various scuffles in their own
experiences--everything from fighting Scanrans in the Immortals War to
preparing weapons as squires during the Tusaine War. Kel loved the stories--especially when there was a lesson to be
learned.
Early in the evening, while they were eating their
makeshift dinner, two messenger pigeons arrived in the camp. One, from the palace, was Joren’s agreement
for a parlay the next morning. The
other was from Cleon, and announced that he would come to their camp at dusk
with a small group of soldiers in order to investigate the matter personally.
Kel was pleased with both results; clearly both of her
opponents were not going to jump headlong into battle without first asking the
necessary questions.
Continued in Chapter 7