For the Prince! For the Queen! Read online

  But, as Kalleb followed the battle lines south, the knights at the barricade were not the only ones in need of reinforcements. Stumps of freshly felled trees still dotted the three large hills that the defenders of Haemsville were deployed on. The city’s banner, a green “X” on a field of yellow, waved on the center hill, while dozens of smaller banners, Kalleb assumed represented other Knight Brotherhoods, fluttered about on the others.

  A pitched battle raged on the slopes of the southernmost hill. Groups of men were urgently pulled away from the northern hill and sent to the southern. Soldiers on the central hill piled logs that they had failed to plant as stakes before the battle, around the crest of the hill to form some form of defense.

  Waves of perfect infantrymen were marching out of the barren woods below the southern hill and up its slope in perfect step, their spears held in the same height. When they met the defenders waiting at the top, the front line lowered their spears and acted as one, while the rear lines halted and waited, instead of crowding in from behind. And they were gaining ground.

  As the southern hill teetered on collapse, the column Téion infantry which had been guarding the light cavalry attacking the barricade moved off and began marching up the northern hill’s slope.

  Where’s the prince? Kalleb thought furiously.

  There couldn’t be more than two thousand men defending Haemsville, and none fought under the royal banner. The Storm Cavalry was missing, as well.

  Pa, where are you?

  A hundred bowstrings snapped at once. Arrows streaked through the sky then curved down into the frontlines of the column marching up the northern slope. Here and there, Téions fell, but most of the arrows landed either between gaps in their lines or made metal pings as they bounced off their armor. The remaining Téions marched over their fallen comrades without pause.

  More arrows fell on them, and yet the Téions continued up the slope. They leveled their spears as one when they reached the defenders then waded into them.

  Kalleb gritted his teeth as he watched the defender’s line bulge and pull back. By the way the battle was going, if Kalleb stayed on the cliff for much longer, it would be over by the time he looked for a way down.

  I have to get down there!

  He took quick stock of his surroundings, searching for a path that he could lead Red Eye down. The forest continued to his left, and the cliff didn’t appear to slope downward. However, to his right, the forest thinned, and he could see the ground sloping.

  He grimaced, studying the ground to the right. That’d take me behind the Téions’ lines.

  A bugle’s high-pitched reeling cut through roar of battle below.

  Kalleb snapped around at the familiar signal.

  Across the river, mounted knights and lancers streamed out of the distant, unwalled city of Haemsville. Despite the distance, Kalleb’s chest swelled as he made out the banners at the column’s head.

  His family’s banner, the banner of the Storm Cavalry, golden horses riding over clouds, flew at the front of the column, surrounded by lancers in burgundy armor. Beside them rode men-at-arms in full plate armor, over gray and blue gambeson livery, flying the royal Sunrise banner of the Dains; a banner depicting the Westerly Sun rising over a gray cliff that looked like the prow of a ship.

  Prince Adam had arrived.

  Men appeared from behind the southernmost hill and roared up into the melee for the crest of the hill. However, even with the added men from below, the Téions’ line didn’t budge a step back.

  The mounted column rushed over the bridge then split into two. Storm Cavalry followed the road, charging toward the besieged knights at the barricade.

  The Téions’ cavalry’s constant harassment halted upon seeing the more heavily armed lancers riding up behind the road. The remaining men at the barricade scrambled out from behind the shields and pulled the spikes back as crossbowmen took the reprieve to fire bolts at the reforming Téions.

  Kalleb expected the Téions to flee once they saw five hundred lancers bearing down on them, while the knights parted and cheered them on. Instead, the Téions’ light horse reformed, leveled their short javelins, and countercharged.

  The storm of hooves rolled up the cliff. Their crash drowned out the sounds of battle on the hills. Lances snapped. Armor cracked. The screaming of men and horses pierced over it all.

  The Dain men-at-arms wheeled south upon crossing the bridge. Kalleb followed the Sunrise banner as it disappeared behind the southernmost hill. Moments later, the Téions’ infantry, still pushing up the southern hill’s slope, buckled for the first time as the point of the Dain charge cut through its center, halting the Téions’ advance.

  “Yes!” Kalleb whooped, jumping in his saddle, almost giddy with excitement. He reached for his saber but remembered how high up he was.

  Shortest way would be best, he thought, looking back at the easiest way down and figuring his kin’s numbers were pushing the Téions’ lighter cavalry back.

  I should be able to join Pa and Kenith then. He grinned, imagining Kenith’s face.

  Kalleb turned Red Eye to the right then kicked him into gallop. He lost sight of the battlefield as he urged his horse back under the trees and through the undergrowth. The sounds of the raging battle hounded him the deeper they pushed and as the forest floor started to slope downward.

  Kalleb’s excitement grew with every step. He could make out the beating of horse hooves in front of him and knew, once he cleared the trees, he would see his fellow Kanes wheeling around the Téions’ rear, finally forcing those perfect columns into disarray.

  He could just see the surprise on his pa’s face upon seeing him. He couldn’t wait to find Kenith and burst into laughter as they rode side by side, as they were always meant to—

  Red Eye burst through another grove of trees, and Kalleb jerked back the reins, causing the gelding to bay loudly and rear up. He kept his grip and saddle, but lost his excitement, his blood running cold.

  “By the Last God,” he whispered in dismay, running a hand through his hair.

  Cavalry were waiting for him.

  But they weren’t Kanes.

  Kalleb gazed over column after column of heavy Téion cavalry. He wouldn’t have believed it possible to outfit five thousand riders in full plate armor and heavy lances, but the Téions apparently had. Their silver armor gleamed together, as if a piece of the Westerly Sun had fallen from the sky and was now a mounted nightmare.

  He was close enough to hear the individual horses snort and stomp their feet in expectation of a coming charge. Each horse had armor over its head and flanks, with red caparison cloth under the armor.

  In the center of their huge column waved a long banner depicting a silver diamond with three golden wings on each side of the diamond on a field of white.

  Chanting snatched Kalleb’s attention away, and his heart fell. Squares of Téion infantry waited beyond a tree line to the south, around the winding road. They stood at attention, easily over thirty thousand strong, waiting to file into the trees and make their way into the battle still raging beyond.

  Between each column stood robed figures, chanting and holding up long staffs with glowing stones on their tips. The stones reminded Kalleb of the stories about the Téions. They were a race of wonders, but no wonder more coveted than their ability to make crystals glow and perform the miraculous. However, no amount of gold or promises would make a Téion relinquish the secret on how the crystals worked.

  The sound of clanging metal tore Kalleb’s gaze away from the ominous sight of the chanting, robed figures and back to the column of heavy cavalry not a hundred feet in front of him. A few of the riders stared at him through their helmets’ vizors.

  Kalleb smiled weakly. “Right. Heavy horse in front of me.” He glanced at his saber hanging off his saddle. “Like shit that’ll help!”

  He jerked Red Eye’s reins, wheeling the gelding violently around, and kicked him to bolt back into the forest, the way that they had come.

  His heavy breathing matched Red Eye’s. He didn’t take the same care in going around trees or going through the easiest thicket. He simply knew he had to put distance between him and that army.

  The sounds of the battle began to grow louder as he got closer, and a dark realization hit him. They’ve just been probing the lines!

  He clenched his jaw tightly as he ducked under a low-hanging branch. They almost took a hill and the road and haven’t even begun to attack!

  And his pa and brother were in the middle of it now.

  Kalleb whipped Red Eye with the reins, but the horse just screamed and suddenly planted his hooves into the ground, leaning forward as he skidded along the ground. Kalleb tried to hold on, but he felt his rear leave the saddle and his feet slip from the stirrups.

  He yelped in surprise as he flew over Red Eye’s head then crashed through thick ferns. He hit the ground hard on his right shoulder then rolled into his fall like his pa had taught him. The impact drove his breath out as he rolled through another thicket and onto the cliffside overlooking the battle.

  The world spun around him, the clouds above blurred with the Westerly Sun’s white rays, and his head began to hurt as he lay on top of the hard rock.

  As he regained his senses, he slowly pushed himself up with a sharp grunt. He clutched his throbbing shoulder and groaned at the sight below.

  “This is”—Kalleb’s breath staggered—“madness.”

  The Sunrise banner was planted firmly on the southern hilltop. The Dain men-at-arms had pushed the Téions’ infantry off the crest and were fighting on foot, alongside knights of various brotherhoods and Haemsville levees.

  The Téions’ advance had halted on both the northernmost and southernmost hills. The Téions on the southernmost hill were trying to fight back up, while those on the northern hill fought a defensive battle, surrounded by the Haemsville defenders on top of the hill and Storm Cavalry below.

  The entire northern half of the field was utter chaos. The Storm Cavalry’s column had broken into different squadrons; some harassed the Téions on the northern hill’s slope, others attacked another infantry column on the road to block them from moving up, and the rest chased the remaining Téions’ light cavalry, attempting in random groups to get behind the defenders’ lines.

  Some of the knights had dragged a few of the spike barricades back over the road, but their line was too wide and the knights too few to man it fully.

  “They think they’re winning,” he groaned out.

  Kalleb would probably believe the same, if he were down there, but he knew it was a lie.

  As his faculties fully returned, he saw the huge, open corridor to the center hill, with the fighting split between the field’s north and south ends.

  “I have to warn them!”

  Kalleb tried to jump to his feet but gasped from the burning pain in his right shoulder, making him fall back down to the ground. He clutched his shoulder again, feeling how sore it was, but it wasn’t dislocated, and no bones had been broken. He struggled more carefully to get to his feet and found Red Eye behind him, munching on a tall patch of grass.

  “Red Eye,” he groaned out as he walked up to horse, firmly holding his shoulder, “a warning would have been nice.”

  Red Eye snorted at him, as if he didn’t care since he had found something to eat.

  As he munched on the crunchy stems, Kalleb heard Red Eye breathing hard and saw foam around his mouth. “I’m sorry, boy,” he said sympathetically, rubbing the horse’s neck. He had pushed him hard today, and they both had barely eaten.

  He shuffled around to Red Eye’s left side and made three attempts before finally dragging himself back up onto the saddle.

  “Come on, Red Eye.” He nudged the horse with his knees and lightly pulled of the reins, but the horse didn’t move. “I know you’re hungry, but we have to get down there.” He pulled harder on the reins. Red Eye snorted and shook his head, refusing to leave. Kalleb growled in frustration. He knew if he tried to be more forceful, Red Eye would buck him off.

  The sound of running horses from down below caught Kalleb’s attention. The Téions’ light cavalry was leaving the field, and instead of pursuing them, his fellow lancers were pulling back. Some of them were pulling back across the bridge to the east side of the river and dismounting, probably to rest their horses. Others formed a column where the old barricade stood so the remaining knights could reform the levees into ranks behind them.

  The defender’s line began to ripple across the three hills. Ranks of men pushed in from the back, trying to get to the front, as men at the front tried to withdraw. The Téions’ infantry on the hill slopes seized the initiative and attacked.

  An officer galloped up the ranks of the lancers in front of the barricade, swinging his saber toward the northernmost hill. As the lancers began to turn their horses toward the hill, another Téion infantry column marched down road. The officer barely swung his saber at the column before the infantry charged. The lancers wheeled their mounts around, but only a few were able to lower their lances before the infantry made contact.

  Kalleb gritted his teeth. “Cut your way out!” he yelled, his officer instincts flaring. “Drop lances and draw sabers and maces!”

  His shouts, however, were swallowed up in the roar of the battle below.

  He grimaced as he watched lancers frantically fight off the Téions’ spears and bounced helplessly in his saddle as several were pulled from their saddles.

  Kalleb drew his saber and ignored his sore shoulder as he waved the curved, three-foot-long steel in the air in the vain attempt to get someone’s attention. “Get out of there!” he roared.

  He couldn’t tell if anyone could see him. From his height, he could barely make out individuals in the mad press below.

  If they can’t disengage . . .

  Kalleb pulled Red Eye’s reins hard and, fortunately, the gelding reared his head. Kalleb nudged him forward and walked the horse over to the edge of the cliff, in an attempt to make himself more visible. Then he waved his saber in the air and yelled, “Fall back! Heavy horse is aiming for your center! Fall back!”

  The battle continued, with everyone deaf to his yells.

  His throat grew hoarse.

  A thunderous rumble made him go silent. Even on the cliffside, Kalleb could feel the ground shake. He dared not look west, hoping if he averted his gaze long enough, the rumbling would stop.

  But it only grew louder.

  The Téions’ heavy cavalry charged in from the northwest, straight into the open corridor, to the center hill that their infantry had left for them. The defender’s line in the center was a mass of confusion, as ranks of men moved between the other two hills.

  Now they were all scrambling. Some were being pushed into lines at the front of the hill, whereas a few others made mad dashes down its eastern slope, toward the bridge. Soon, more joined them in flight. Even men from the northernmost and southernmost hills followed, ignoring the shouts from their officers.

  Kalleb watched in awestruck horror as the Téions’ heavy cavalry flowed up the center hill’s slope and its front lines dropped their lances in unison. They rolled over the Haemsville defender’s mangled line in an unyielding wave. The Haemsville banner fell under their hooves.

  The center crumbled.

  The sounds of war swallowed everything again. Men and horses screamed over the clanging of swords and the rattling of lances and spears.

  Kalleb dropped his arm limply and watched the Téions’ heavy cavalry ride down men running for the bridge. Divisions splintered off from its massive column, around the north, south, and toward the bridge.

  The strength in Kalleb’s fingers gave out, and his saber slipped from his grasp, to clang against the rocks, as the southernmost hill was surrounded then ingulfed by the Téions’ tide. A hoarse wail escaped him as the tide swallowed the Sunrise banner.

  As the northern hill met the same fate, the remaining Storm Cavalry and knights guarding the road tried to charge toward the river and back to the bridge, but the Téions had the numbers. All who didn’t flee to the northeast and out of Kalleb’s sight were slain.

  A rolling, warm sting of tears ran down his cheeks as the last remaining lancers were unhorsed. The Storm Cavalry banner, his family’s banner, was trampled in the dirt.

  As the Téions began crossing the bridge in force, the lancers on the other side fled.

  Kalleb folded in on himself, leaned down, arching his back, and pressed his head against Red Eye’s neck. “Pa!” he gasped. “Kenith!”

  They were dead. They had to be. He couldn’t imagine either of them leaving the field with lancers still on it.

  “I didn’t make it.” He trembled in his saddle. “I didn’t make it!”

  Chapter 1

  11th of Petrarium, 1109 N.F. (e.y.)

  LADY TORY SYROS BASKED IN the Easterly Sun while on the forecastle of her family’s yacht, a sleek, two-mast ship, built for speed.

  A gust of wind whipped her hair around her face, and she spat and pulled damp, bloodred strands away from her mouth, softly growling in frustration. Then she raked her hair back just as another gust of wind flung ocean spray over the yacht’s bow and misted around her.

  A storm’s on its way, she thought, looking up at the rolling gray clouds moving toward Daincliff, either tomorrow or the next day.

  Regardless, the wind was helping to push the yacht toward the capital’s Old Harbor.

  A high-pitched trill came from above and behind her, and she turned to find Harpo, her pytre hawk, hanging upside-down on the foremast. He looked down at her with his large, brown eyes as he twitched his black, scaled head from side to side. He dug his talons and forewing claws into the mast as he hugged it. The bright red feathers on his forearms and thick hind legs stood out, fanning against the mast’s black wood, and his long tail feathers stood rigidly in the air to keep his balance.