C H A P T E R T W E NT Y- F I V E
wo weeks had passed since that horrific afternoon with Vernich and Seb, and Thea returned to herT shieldbearer duties with a renewed sense of purpose. The days went quickly and quietly, and Thea began to feel stronger; much stronger. Kipp was back as well, though his face looked a little different since his injury. ‘It makes me more ruggedly handsome,’ he insisted one morning as they scarfed down their breakfast. ‘When, in the history of the midrealms, has anyone called you ruggedly handsome?’ Cal shook his
head. ‘Well, if you must know, at the —’ ‘Don’t even say it,’ Cal cut him off with a warning glare.
They didn’t have time to continue their bickering. The whole cohort was due at the stables and Thea had to practically drag the pair there to avoid being late.
When they got there, Thea’s skin crawled at the sight of Vernich, whose face still sported the evidence of Hawthorne’s beating. He was in an intense discussion with Esyllt and Torj. The Bear Slayer’s presence had her looking for the third, but Hawthorne was nowhere in sight. In fact, she hadn’t seen him even in passing since her visit to his cabin, though her thoughts often returned to that night. Her toes curled at the memory of his lips brushing against hers, his smell wrapping around her, her heart fracturing just a little at the thought of that flower braid on his table. But he’d made himself clear.
Beside her, Kipp stiffened at the sight of the Bloodletter and she reached down to squeeze his hand. No matter how brutal Thezmarrian training was supposed to be, what had transpired during that session should never have happened. Neither Kipp nor her spoke of it, but that afternoon had left more than just physical scars on the both of them. The way Cal was grinding his teeth told her the experience had left a mark on him as well, that his guilt for not being able to protect them cut as deep as any wound.
Kipp gave her hand a squeeze back and dropped it before anyone noticed.
Esyllt held up his hand for silence and the cohort fell quiet, eager to discover what madness awaited them next. ‘The Guild Master has requested that the shieldbearers undergo a mock skirmish,’ he announced. ‘Sparring in the arena is one thing, but applying those skills in the midst of battle is another. You are all to gather your shields and weapons and meet us down on the Plains of Orax to await further
instruction.’ Excited chatter broke out across the crowd. ‘Do not take this exercise lightly,’ his voice rang out through the stables. ‘We will be watching each and every one of you. If you have a speciality, now’s the time to show it.’ That only fuelled the hushed conversations further as the shieldbearers scrambled to get their weapons from the armoury and make their way down to the fields beyond the Bloodwoods.
Unlike Cal and Kipp, Thea didn’t have a speciality suitable for the mock battle; she was deadly with her throwing stars, but she could hardly use them without spilling the blood of her fellow shieldbearers.
Throughout their various lessons, she had trained the hardest to dual wield, like Hawthorne and the great Talemir Starling, and so she sheathed two practice swords at her belt. ‘Your longbow and cavalry skills are excellent,’ Kipp commented, as he chose a lightweight shield for himself. ‘That’s where I’d put you at the start of a battle, before things get messy.’ Thea nodded her thanks and grabbed a bow and quiver of arrows, strapping them to her back. If the commanders and Warswords were going to watch, then she was going to show them exactly what she was capable of. ‘We should work as our own unit,’ Kipp said as they walked through the Bloodwoods towards the Plains of Orax, fully armed. ‘Well, yeah…’ Cal replied. ‘Isn’t that the idea of a mock skirmish?’ ‘He means a team within a team, you dolt,’ Thea told him. ‘Right Kipp?’ ‘Exactly. We follow the orders of the commander, but we stick together, we have each other’s backs. Cal can cover us from long range, Thea, you take the lead in cavalry, and I’ll do what I can while assessing the lay of the land.’ Thea waited for Cal to make a sarcastic comment, but his face was serious when he nodded. ‘Sounds good.’ Though she knew it was only a mock skirmish, it felt right going into battle with her friends at her sides. When they reached the fields with the rest of their unit, Madden and Evander were there with a unit of horses already saddled and waiting.
Evander tried to catch her eye, but Thea turned away – she had more important things to worry about. ‘Gather round, gather round,’ Esyllt shouted. ‘You’ve been assigned a Warsword to help guide your unit through the skirmish, but you’ll be going in alone. We want no dirty fighting, no broken bones or unnecessary blood. But this is a test, this is to show you how chaotic a battleground can be.’ How in the realms are they going to pull this off? But before Thea could think more on it, some of the younger warriors emerged carrying buckets of paint. ‘Half of you will be red,’ Esyllt called. ‘Half of you will be blue. You’re to coat your weapons with your colour and you are to mark your enemy as much as possible… Archers, special blunt arrowheads have been created by some clever ladies back at the fortress —’ Thea exchanged a grin with Cal. They had been there when Wren had come up with the idea to cover the points of the heads with a hard sea sponge she’d discovered only a few weeks back. If secured properly, the impact would bruise an opponent, but no arrow would pierce flesh and would mark them with paint.
The cohort was divided in half and Thea was pleased to find Torj at the head of their force; she was even more pleased to discover that Seb and his lackeys were on the enemy team, with Vernich at their helm.
Where’s Hawthorne? The thought flashed across her mind like a star streaking across the night’s sky and then it was gone.
Torj’s voice projected across their group. ‘Forget that this is a practice battle,’ he commanded, his voice deep and serious. ‘Imagine beyond that field is an army of monsters from beyond the Veil, or an army of cursed civilians. You are what stands between them and our world, so remember this: being a true Guardian of the midrealms is not about hating the evil before you, but loving the lands and its people behind you. Remember that glory will not be found in failing to fall, but in rising from the chaos when you do. Do not let me down.’ A shiver washed over Thea at those words as Torj the Bear Slayer made quick work of splitting them into various units. ‘We’ll be trying a few standard formations first, and we need a frontline. Who’s got the balls to look death straight in the eye?’ Thea was first to step forward. ‘I don’t have the balls,’ she said. ‘But I’m always keen to test the fates.’ Teeth flashed in a quick grin. ‘Good, you’re front and centre, Althea. They won’t expect that.
Now, who’s directing this attack?’ Everyone blinked at Torj for a moment before Cal shouted, ‘Kipp!’ Thea shoved their friend forward. ‘Yes, Kipp should strategise!’ The Warsword turned to Kipp, who was blushing furiously. ‘Are you up to the task then,
Snowden?’
‘Yes, Sir. Absolutely,’ Kipp blurted. ‘Then talk to me. What do you see?’ Kipp didn’t hesitate. ‘The terrain,’ he said. ‘It may look flat enough, but there are dips and crests in the plains as much as anywhere else. We need our force to take advantage of these.’ Thea scanned the field before them. He was right, at a glance, the grassy plain looked almost level, but when she focused, she could see exactly what the warrior referred to. ‘Exactly,’ Torj agreed. ‘That’s your first tactic.’ True to their word, the trio stuck together, the anticipation buzzing between them as they gathered in their first formation. Kipp spoke in hurried tones about how they could use the terrain against their opponents. Thea could only imagine how the feeling compared to being on the precipice of a real battle. ‘Remember,’ Torj called. ‘This is the first of several attacks, fight smart and do not let me down!’ He turned to Kipp. ‘It’s all yours, Kipp.’ Kipp gave a sombre nod before facing their unit. ‘Weapons at the ready,’ he called, his voice
suddenly loud and authoritative.
The force did as he commanded. ‘On my mark,’ he shouted. ‘Charge!’ Thea sprung into action with the rest, sprinting over the plains, brandishing her shield and wooden practice sword.
The two forces clashed messily together, a blur of coloured paints and flailing limbs, shouts filling the air.
And yet no one landed a single blow against her.
She whirled across the battlefield, light on her feet, darting away from attacks and delivering faux slices and thrusts to the opposition, streaking several shieldbearers with blue paint.
But there was something laughable about it all. Wasn’t battle supposed to be more sophisticated
than this? To Thea, it felt like a bunch of idiotic children trying to mimic something they did not understand. ‘Enough!’ roared Vernich over the clamour. ‘Pathetic! I’d sooner die than fight alongside —’ ‘You’ve made your point, Vernich,’ Torj snapped. ‘My unit, with me. We go again.’ Once they had trudged back to their side of the plains, Torj surveyed them. ‘This exercise develops tactical, strategic and disciplined habits… As loath as I am to agree with the Bloodletter – I saw nothing of the sort.’ Torj paced before them, swinging his war hammer and shaking his head furiously. ‘When you’re out on a real battlefield, it will not be so luxurious. Start taking this seriously. Their paint means
death. Do you want to die today?’
‘No, Sir!’ came the unified reply.
‘I said, do you want to die today?’
‘No, Sir!’
‘Then get —’ ‘Sir?’ Kipp called out.
Torj raised his brows. ‘You’re interrupting a Warsword in the middle of —’ ‘Yes, Sir!’ Kipp replied. ‘Only because you told me to strategise…’ ‘And?’ ‘This is a full-scale field exercise, Sir… And no one is utilising that crest up there,’ Kipp pointed to a rise in the land to the north. ‘We could send a small unit of archers. Taking the high ground is the backbone of a million military strategies, Sir.’ A slow smile spread across Torj’s face. ‘And who taught you that, Kipp?’ ‘You did, Sir.’ Pride swelled in Thea’s chest. Kipp might have been a poor swordsman, but true to his word, he was a killer strategist through and through. ‘You’re damn right I did.’ The Warsword addressed the shieldbearer on Kipp’s left. ‘Cal, take ten of our best archers and attack from that rise.’ Cal instantly turned to Thea. ‘Althea stays front and centre. She volunteered, that’s her position for the rest of the battle.’ Disappointment bloomed in Thea’s gut, but she obeyed, twirling her sword at the ready. She had a point to prove.
At Torj’s command, Thea led the next charge across the plain, while Cal rained arrows down upon the enemy and Kipp directed from the rear of the force. Shouts sounded from the other side, and Thea saw a flurry of blue somewhere ahead. It was going well.
Until the counter.
A unit of spear throwers burst through the enemy’s ranks — ‘Shield wall!’ Thea heard herself shout over the chaos, skidding to a stop and bracing herself against the back of her shield. ‘Shield wall!’ She waited for the shields to slide into place alongside hers, but there was nothing. Her unit kept charging, right into the blunt spears tipped with red paint.
‘Shield wall!’ she tried a final time.
But none listened. ‘Pull back!’ Kipp’s voice cut through the pandemonium. ‘Pull back!’ Thea heeded her friend’s order, retreating with the rest of her unit, fury coursing through her veins. ‘You had the right idea,’ Torj said, as they gathered for the next strategy.
‘Doesn’t matter when no one listens.’
‘No,’ he agreed. ‘It doesn’t.’ That did little to quell Thea’s rage.
The mock battle went on for another hour, maybe more – Thea couldn’t tell. Her anger had ebbed away, replaced by exhaustion as they carried out formation after formation, until at last, Torj and Vernich called an end to it.
Begrudgingly, the Warswords shook hands, declaring Torj’s force had secured the victory.
Despite her failed attempt at a shield wall, Thea cheered with the others and clapped her friends on the back with the rest. Though disappointment curdled in her gut at the lack of her own contribution, she was truly happy for Cal and Kipp, who had been the undeniable standouts in the exercise. ‘A shield wall was the right move,’ Kipp told her amidst the noise. ‘I thought so,’ Thea replied. ‘But no one listened —’ ‘Why would anyone listen to you?’ came the voice of one of Seb’s lackeys. ‘You’re not a commander, you’re not a warrior, you’re not even a man, try as you might.’ Blood roared in Thea’s ears and she clenched her fists ready to take a swing.
But Kipp shoved him. ‘Oh, piss off you prick. I saw you lingering at the back out of harm’s way.
Thea’s ten times the warrior you’ll ever be.’ The shieldbearer lunged for Kipp, but Torj cleared his throat pointedly. ‘Victory will not be so sweet in real life,’ he reminded them, his face contemplative as he surveyed his unit. ‘Look at how many of your men are streaked with paint. Many would be dead, far more injured beyond repair. And look across the field. You would see a pile of carcasses for the crows, and a carpet of warriors moaning in agony, some begging to be put out of their misery…’ Quiet fell and the Warsword continued. ‘While this battle was short, even by my standards it was messy. And you want to avoid a messy battle at all costs. A true warrior of Thezmarr is brutal, yes, but efficient – quick, merciful. We do not draw out the suffering of our fellow man,’ he said, ‘or woman,’ he added with a glance at Thea. ‘You’ll all do well to remember that.’ Torj’s words settled over the group, quelling the excitement and turning things reflective. Thea appreciated the dose of reality, realising how easy it was to get caught up in the celebrations and tales of personal victory when they had not been confronted with the cold, harsh truths of war. ‘Do you think we impressed them?’ Cal asked quietly, nodding in the direction of the commanders and warriors. ‘You certainly did,’ Kipp replied. ‘How many did you take down?’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘At least fifteen,’ Thea said.
‘I wasn’t counting.’ ‘Horseshit,’ Kipp scoffed.
Cal laughed. ‘Alright, it was twenty-two.’ Thea elbowed Kipp. ‘You did well too. A king of tactics, aren’t you?’ ‘I’ve been telling you that for ages.’ Even though Torj’s sombre words had doused the high of victory, nothing could quell their laughter at the sight of Seb, who was covered in blue paint from head to toe. Thea surveyed her long- time adversary, her shoulders shaking as uncontained glee flooded her. ‘Looks like he didn’t survive the practice battle…’ Kipp said loudly.
Even Torj laughed at that.
Seb was seething as he stalked off into the Bloodwoods, his wooden sword limp in his hands.
Thea threw her arms around her friends, letting herself revel in the pride swelling in her chest.
They had come a long way, the three misfits of Thezmarr.
But before the trio could start back towards the fortress, Esyllt strode forward, calling out to them. ‘You three!’ Thea froze. That phrase was only ever reserved for them and it was usually a bad thing. She mentally readied herself for the prospect of dealing with the armoury, knowing it would be ten times worse than usual to clean up with all the paint. ‘Yes, Sir?’ Cal asked as they approached the weapons master tentatively. ‘Both Vernich and I have correspondence that needs immediate delivery to Hailford,’ he said. ‘Given your impressive feats today, the Warswords and I have agreed to delegate this task to the three of you.’ ‘You want us to go to Hailford, Sir?’ Kipp asked.
Esyllt barely suppressed his groan of frustration. ‘Don’t make me regret this, Snowden. Yes, you are to go to Hailford to deliver a number of messages across the capital.’ Thea thought she’d seen Kipp happy before, but those times were nothing compared to the broad, dopey grin now plastered on his face. ‘Yes, Sir! It would be an honour.’ The weapons master was already shaking his head. ‘Go to the kitchens. Cook has prepared supplies for your journey, then you’re to take fresh horses from the stables. We will have our letters for you by then. You leave within the hour.’ A fresh wave of excitement washed over the trio. Though they were exhausted from the mock battle, the promise of adventure away from Thezmarr re-energised them and they rushed back to the fortress to follow Esyllt’s instructions. ‘The Laughing Fox awaits, my friends!’ Kipp shouted eagerly as they thanked the cook.
Cal offered Thea a pained look before turning to their friend. ‘Don’t you think you should drop it
now, Kipp?’ ‘Drop what?’ An exasperated sigh followed. ‘The whole tavern thing. You don’t have to lie.’ ‘I’m not! In a few days’ time, we’ll be dining like kings and drinking like fish!’ Cal rolled his eyes. ‘If you say so.’
The weapons master was waiting for them in the stables, tapping his foot impatiently, three horses tacked and saddled behind him. ‘You are to take the Wesford Road to Harenth and its capital with no detours,’ he told them sternly. ‘The journey will take you three days each way, one night’s accommodation has been procured for you in the city.’ Stay in Harenth? In Hailford? Thea was practically giddy and she could almost feel the excitement radiating from her friends as well.
The weapons master handed out a series of letters. ‘Callahan, you are to deliver this to Nobleman Briar. Kipp, this is for Councilman Henriksson. Ask the guards for directions and you’ll find their residences easily enough.’ Esyllt pressed a sealed letter into Thea’s hands. ‘This is to be delivered to King Artos. It’s my understanding His Majesty is already familiar with you, Althea.’ She felt the shocked gazes of Kipp and Cal fall to her.
Ignoring them, she replied: ‘Yes, Sir,’ and pocketed the letter. ‘I trust that I do not need to remind you that the correspondence you hold is confidential? Should those seals be broken upon arrival, you will be whipped or worse for your disobedience. What are you waiting for?’ he said sharply. ‘Get moving!’ The trio burst into action, stuffing their saddlebags with their supplies and mounting their horses.
Without another glance back at Esyllt, Thea took the lead and led her friends from the stables and onto the Mourner’s Trail.
Having already travelled it twice recently, Thea didn’t pause to marvel at its eeriness. She set the pace hard, so Cal and Kipp could not interrogate her about her familiarity with the king until they reached the Wesford Road. But as soon as they turned onto the wide dirt road that linked the kingdoms of the midrealms, the questions came. ‘What did Esyllt mean about you and King Artos?’ Kipp said immediately. ‘I mean, I know you petitioned the rulers, but…’ ‘That’s what I want to know,’ Cal added. ‘If you’d shut up, I can tell you,’ she said.
And she did. She told them of the journey with the Warsword and how they hadn’t used the main road. She told them of nearly missing her audience with the rulers of the midrealms and their initial rejection of her. When she got to the part about the feast and the poison, both young men were gaping at her from their horses. ‘You saved the king?’ Kipp’s mouth hung open. ‘That’s what I said isn’t it?’ ‘But… You… Saved him? From certain death?’ ‘Yes - from Naarvian Nightshade. It would have been a nasty death too. The poor cupbearer showed us that. I’d never seen the effects in action before.’ ‘He died right in front of you?’ Cal asked.
Thea nodded, the memory making her shudder. ‘But you saved the king…’ Kipp repeated, in awe. ‘That’s how you got his approval to train with us…?’ ‘Yes. He convinced the other rulers to let me.’
‘What happened after that?’ ‘We left.’ Kipp’s brows furrowed. ‘What do you mean, you left?’ Thea shrugged. ‘Hawthorne said we had to leave, so we did.’ ‘He left a king’s feast midway through? After you’d just been granted the very thing you’d travelled all that way for?’ Cal asked.
Thea shrugged again, squeezing her horse’s sides and urging it into a canter. ‘Warswords belong to no territory but Thezmarr,’ she called back to her friends as she left them in the dust in her wake.
The three days ride passed quickly, full of the unbridled joy and freedom of travelling with friends.
As ordered, they travelled by the Wesford Road by day, stopping at dusk to hunt. With his family background, it was no surprise that Cal excelled at finding the best small game for them to cook over the fire each evening. He shared his hunting techniques with Thea who was eager to learn, while Kipp fantasised aloud about the roast boar at the Laughing Fox as he tended to the horses.
Though Thea worried a little about the training she was missing back at the fortress, from her
travels with Hawthorne and now the days spent with her friends, she had come to understand that the lessons on the road were just as important.
As another dusk settled, they set up camp by a river flowing south, intending to fish for their evening meal. With the horses already settled and grazing, they soon realised that for whatever reason, the fish were keeping to the far riverbank, out of reach.
Spurred on by a flagon of ale, Kipp invented a game that had them launching themselves across the river on sticks. It involved selecting a stick that would bear their weight, taking a massive run-up to the river’s edge and planting the stick in the ground at just the right moment before using it to propel themselves over the body of water. Thea had never laughed so hard, particularly when Kipp ended up waist-deep in the icy current after his stick snapped.
That evening, the trio debated the contents of the letters in their charge, but not once did anyone suggest breaking the wax seals and taking a look for themselves. No matter how curious they were, not for one moment did they think Esyllt’s threats were idle.
In the dark hours of the night, Thea’s mind turned to Hawthorne and the journey they had shared together – the start of something that would never come to pass now. She tried to understand the hurt she carried in her chest, but could make no sense of it. Instead, she resolved to harden herself, to lock those thoughts of him away at the back of her mind.
It was late afternoon when the capital city of Hailford appeared on the horizon and Thea could hardly believe how quickly time had passed. She had so lost herself in the conversation and the companionship that the days had melted away, but now as the city gates came into view, anticipation buzzed between them. They were to have a night in the city to themselves and the joy of this temporary freedom was not lost on them.
Once they had passed through the gates, Thea turned to her friends. ‘I suggest we get these letters delivered as fast as possible,’ she said. ‘And then we’ll meet at this Laughing Fox tavern Kipp is always on about.’ ‘Sounds like an excellent plan!’ Cal said with a wry smile.
Thea turned to Kipp, but he was already riding away.
Giving Cal a wave, she urged her horse forward; she needed no directions to the Heart of Harenth and she wouldn’t keep King Artos waiting.
