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Chronicle II, Chapter 13, War Plans By William Black It did not take long for Sir Robert to round up the men Will had requested. Will noted that they all seemed to be talking at once as they piled into the hospital tent to look him over. Sir Alan was the first in. "Will, how are you, you little twit? I thought I had lost you, but by Jove, you pulled through yet again." He gave his brother a pat on the head, "Maybe I should try some of the druidery teaching of yours." "Nah, you wouldn't like the robes we have to wear," Will gave him a mocking smile. Sir Robert drew up chairs for the lot of them, except Will who was propped up on the bed. "Will, as we get seated, I want to make sure you are up to this. You're really not looking very well." "I'm fine. Anyway, how much exertion will I be doing stuck in bed this way? Hmmm?" Will laughed. "Here, I will tell you what, I'll close my eyes in rest while you tell me the news you bring. Don't worry, I won't be asleep." Will lowered his head to the pillow, then asked, "who is to go first." Though he could not see them, Will knew they were pondering which one was to lead. He figured as much that his brother spoke first. "Will, more reports are filtering in. The township of Saint Yves was overrun by what we now suspect to be Lord Banon's army. According to survivors, the creatures making up the bulk of the army are as big and ugly as I described to you before. They do appear to be human, but deformed and wretched as sin." David paused letting this bit of news sink in. Will did not react. His breathing was steady and deep. "Go on," he urged. "Information on the number of troops is sketchy at best; some report fifty thousand men, others one hundred fifty. Captain Tactus is estimating the enemy is at least seventy thousand troops. The reports suggest that they are equipped with both light and heavy war machines. They also have a large contingent of cavalry and draft animals. Will's eyes flattered violently. He sat up suddenly, a loud sneeze exploding from his mouth. Then another. "Please, would someone blow out those stinking oil lamps!" He begged. "My nose is killing me." Sir Robert stood up quickly, walked around snuffing out most of the flames and then returned to his chair. "Will, there is more news." "Will sniffled lightly, "Yes, I gathered as much. Sorry for the interruption and thanks." He smiled at Robert, then laid his head back down and resumed his meditative pose. Sir David spoke next. "William, according to a few of the survivors, the army is led by an elderly man. One who wears a royal blue robe and carries a large staff. I told this to Morgan, and she said you might know who this fellow is." Then he paused as if considering his next statement, "Is it true that you know who it is?" The young knight remained calm, his eyes shut as if in sleep. Then he spoke, "The leader of this army is Lard Banon, High Priest to Loki. But he is aided in his quest by my Lord Morlyn. Did Morgan told you about my old mentor?" Here Will opened his eyes to find the men around him shacking their heads slightly. "Well, let me tell you a little about him until Morgan gets back with Arrow." Will raised himself up on one elbow, "Morlyn was a very great man in the Druid community near the town where I trained as page and squire. At that time I was under the tutelage of Lord Melbrook of Hawthorns Gate. But in my spare time I would seek out those I felt closest to and learn everything I could from them about natural philosophy, science, math, astronomy... you name it, I wanted to learn it." Will looked at Alan, knowing that he had always disapproved of his eagerness to learn other arts besides arms and estate management. Will ignored the look in his brothers eyes, "Master Morlyn took note of me and became my secret mentor, apparently seeing in me something that he could direct the development of. He taught me the most sacred Druid traditions, rituals, methodologies, and most of all, magic. Mind-craft was his one outstanding specialty." "So, what happened to him," interjected Sir David, "if he was such a respected member of the Druid community? I don't recall Druids being particularly interested in conquest. Will gazed at the other man, not knowing how much he would accept or truly believe. "Morlyn became power hungry... no, that is not right. He was always power hungry. But his patience ran out. He tried to usurp the role of Arch-Druid of Hawthorns Gate. He used his mind-craft to spread dissent among the country folk and also within the Druid community itself. He did not count on..." here Will flattered, "he didn't count on the community turning against him. Though they had no perceived magic of their own, their belief in themselves, their elders, and the Arch-Druid himself was strong. Too strong to be turned against all they knew and felt comfortable with. In the end, they drove him out of the realm." The men waited expectantly watching Will for further information. He looked at them and stated flatly, "That's about it. No one heard from him until now, and it might just be my over-active imagination." He cocked his eyebrow at Sir David, doubt reflected in the other's eyes. "It was presumed that Morlyn had died of old age," he ended and watched them for a reaction. Before any could speak, Morgan returned with a great eagle perched on her leather gloved fist. "Well, we should get some clear answers now. Will, I confess that I tried to 'see' within Arrow's mind, but the images run together too fast for me to make any real sense out of them." Lady Ann also entered the tent carrying Arrow's perch. "Will, sorry I didn't come sooner, but Lady Morion had me well occupied. I really wanted to come sooner," she gave him a gentle smile. She put the stand near Will's bed, and Morgan let the bird hop from her fist to the perch. Arrow let out a contented chirp as he settled down on the familiar piece of toweling. Will scanned the faces of those in the room. They all looked back expectantly. "Stop the suspense crap and get on with it," his brother sighed. He looked the most eager to hear what the eagle could tell them. Will struggled to sit up, Morgan and Ann helping him, one on each side. "Thanks," he said breathlessly, "now, let me take a moment to catch my breath, then I will see what my friend has to tell us." Doctor Laroux finally arrived from his herbarium carrying a steaming cup of a noxious smelling brew. Seeing Will flinch he stated, "You did request my most potent tonic. Now take it," he said handing his patient the cup. "And drink it all. You will have another draught in four hours." The young knight grimaced as he swallowed the hot nasty tasting liquid. Even Arrow seemed putout by the smell of the potion. When every last drop was consumed, Will turned his attention to his feathered protector, though is eyes were tearing up badly in reaction to the vile medication. Morgan nudged Will jokingly, "You never received anything that bad from me! So you'd better never complain about my preparations again." She stuck her tongue out at him, and for a moment, he remembered when they had been alone together, before... before things had changed. He shook his head lightly, clearing his thought. He scooted himself closer to Arrow's perch as the raptor watched his master with apparent interest. Will stroked the eagle's cheeks, and spoke gently to him. Then closing his eyes and clearing his mind, he began whispering in a language that only he, the bird, and Morgan knew. The sound was like the peep of a young nestling about ready to fly. Eagle turned his head one way then the other, always keeping his eyes on the man before him. The ritual seemed, to those present, to be lasting for hours, but in reality, only twenty minutes went by when Will suddenly opened his eyes. His face was ashen, but his voice was strong and clear. "Sir David, take Captain Tactus and assemble your chief officers. Also gather all the craft masters you can find. We will have need of all the skilled labor that we can get." "Why, what did you see," Sir Robert spoke up. "Confirmation of the reports you have already heard. But seventy thousand troops is a bit conservative," he said and looked at Captain Tactus. "Captain," Will continued, "what type of war machines do you have and how many?" Clearing his throat, Tactus looked at those around him. "Sir, we never had need of such..." "STOP! I asked for a number and type of item, not excuses why they don't exist. Now, how many and of what type?!" Captain Tactus looked tired, "We have three catapults, two of which are in poor repair. However, there are nine multiple arrow launchers; each being capable of launching thirty darts. Five are in perfect working order. The other four can be made so quickly." Will looked at the old soldier hoping that he had more inventory than already disclosed, but Tactus remained silent. "Is that it?" "Yes my Lord, we never expected to have to rely on even those." Sir David came to the Captain of the Guard's defense, "Will, they have been under the protection of magic for so long, no need was seen to keep up the ancient instruments of war. Magic was the deterrent." "Aha," Will shook his head, "and it will be that 'deterrent' which will destroy this place if we don't act swiftly and wisely." Then in a more kind tone, "Please get the people I requested. It is time to make plans." He moved to stand, but Sir Robert laid a firm hand on him. "Will, you're going no where right now. You must rest. Let us deal with this situation for now. When the time is right, you can join us." Will looked at him and knew that it was Morgan's determination and care that drove this once proud knight. Proud he still was, but much wiser. Laying his head back onto the billow, he watched as the warriors left the tent to make defensive preparations. But Will wondered if they really understood the threat and the slim chance they had at victory. He wrinkled his noise at the soot that still lingered in the air. He stifled a sneeze, only to have one burst out of his mouth a second later. "Doctor, don't you have anything for sneezes?" Laroux tilted his head as if to consider, then walked over to the front entrance and rolled back the flap. A gentle breeze entered the tent, clearing the remaining smoky smell out of the air. "How's that?" He asked with a little smirk. As Will watched the herbalist, he stumbled on a wild, totally insane idea. With this thought in mind, he answered with laughter in his sleepy voice, "Do you know, it is just dandy. As a matter of fact, I have not felt so good in a long time. I think I will take a bit of a nap after all. Please summon Morion here. I would like her here by my side when I awake." Laroux left the tent as Will closed his eyes. This time sleep would be self-induced. He hoped he could control any dreams that might try to entrap him. He knew that rest was needed. The coming battle would be the toughest in his life, for he had to abandon all dependencies on magic, at least magic as seen by the citizens of Morion's realm. They must be turned to believe in themselves, as opposed to forces beyond their control. Maybe this was the greatest magic of all that he had to perform, to convince them that life dependent on sorcery was no life at all, rather slavery. The dreams came as before, but with a difference. This time he was in control. Instead of floating in mid-air surrounded by the blue glow of the Pêlen Tân, he picked his way on foot through the flitting shadows and dark images of his mind. The shapes tried to coalesce, but Will focused his thoughts forcing them to dissipate. He was not interested in what they were about, nor in the image of Morion that tried to entice him into her arms. His goal was the one who sent the dreams. Morlyn. He didn't have to wait long. As he walked in the dream mist he could hear laughter coming out of the blue haze before him. It was harsh and full of malice. Then a voice came out to taunt him, "So, are we back for more? I see that you are in control this time. Oh my, but aren't we something? You must be pretty pleased with yourself; you and your damned eagle. Tell me, what did you 'see' when you looked into that bird's brain? I hope it caught your attention. It would be a pity if there was no resistance when we arrived." Then as if reading Will's thoughts, the voice continued, "I bet you have a splendid plan." That was what Will had been waiting for. He prayed that Morion was sitting by his side. His thought's sharpened to concentrate on her; on her perfume, her smile, her nobility, and yes, her warmth. As his mind snapped out of sleep, he could here his foe cursing and trying to call up magic to entrap him. Will's eyes burst open. He tried to focus on the scene around him. For a moment he was afraid he had failed and fallen back to sleep. But there was Morion sitting next to him holding tightly onto his hand. "Will?" She leaned down to him. "How are you feeling?" He hoped his smile was not too goofy, but he felt great. Not only because he had accomplished something in the dream, but also because she had seen fit to heed his summons. "I feel fine, just fine. Thank you for coming." "Why did you ask that I be here when you awoke," she asked while looking intently into his eyes. "Don't take this as an insult, but I needed you lest I got lost in the dream. You see, you were my beacon back to this reality." "Hmmm, I think I would rather be the substance of your dreams, at least their cause," she said mischievously, and gave him a light kiss. Then she smiled and stood. "Well, my noble knight, I have plans to make. Sir David has gathered the Chief engineers and Craft-masters. Also the leaders from several other realms are due to arrive shortly. I need to make arrangements for all these guests. Later this evening I will bring them here to consult with you. I want to hear your ideas regarding the coming conflict." She paused and fixed her gaze on him, "Will, Doctor Laroux informs me that you seemed to find some sort of an answer before you went to sleep. Would you share it with me? Is there a way to use magic and yet not appear to be doing so?" Will cocked his eyebrow at her, "Madam should be ashamed of herself." His said mockingly. "We cannot break our promise, now can we?" Then Will chuckled, "My Lady, when you want to sleep or ease your worried mind, what do you do?" "Well, a few shots of wine help a lot," she said with a grin. Will smiled back at her. She really did have a wonderful smile. "Alcohol is not the only thing that will numb us or cause us to sleep. Doctor Laroux's herbs..." here Will looked around to see if the herbalist was around, but he wasn't there, "can be used for the same purpose. And indeed, maybe more effectively for our purposes." "What do you have in mind, Druid?" She said conspiratorially. Will sat up on the bed to face her, "My Lady, when faced by an enemy with superior numbers one can make any number of choices, either to submit like sheep, run like scared rabbits, or fight. But it's foolish to fight when you have little chance of winning, though at the time it may seem noble. However, if you can use the mass of the enemy force against itself, then you have a fighting chance. One with a probability of success." "So how do we use Lord Banon's forces against themselves? I really don't think that Banon and his Druid friend will have any scruples about using magic against us, if it comes down to that." Will frowned at her expression of "Druid friend", for Morlyn was no longer a Druid, just as he himself wasn't technically one either. "My Lady, Morlyn is very likely to use every means known to him to destroy your realm. And by the way, he is no longer a Druid. He is a Warlock; an oath breaker." "Yes, the title Warlock suites such a one better. What I know of Druids is quite positive." Here she squeezed his leg. "Will, I do have to get back. The plans won't wait forever. You sure you're feeling okay?" "I am in such fine shape, I'll escort you back to the palace." "Oh no you don't," Ambros said as he entered the tent followed by Laroux and Tolin. "Not until I give you my blessings to leave. Boy, you have been through a lot, and I want to make sure you can go through a whole lot more." "We all are going to give you our blessings, or you're not going anywhere," Laroux added as he handed the knight a steaming cup of medicine, then he jerked his head towards Morion, "by her orders." Will turned to Morion, who just shrugged. "All right, beloved Lady, I'll be along shortly, I assure you." He gave her hand a firm squeeze. As if taken by impulse, she hugged him tight, then letting him go she said, "Don't be long, my Druid." She turned away and walked out the door into the fresh sunlight of the afternoon. He watched her in wonder as she left. Clearing his mind he said, "Okay gentleman, let's get this over with." The doctors moved towards him to begin their examinations. *********** Thus Ends the Second Chronicle of the Druid Knight, and portents the Third and Final Tale... William Black © Chronicle II, Main page |