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Chapter 13, Chronicle III - Parts To Play By William Black Immediately upon hearing that Morlyn's troops were across the valley, Will turned Aspen towards a rise overlooking the plain below. Alan and the rest followed. However, Morgan turned towards the centre of the camp. She felt she had done enough for one day. Captain Tactus was already at the top of the hill, surveying the enemy and what would be the battlefield once the two sides engaged one another. When Will stopped beside him, Tactus spoke in an awed whisper, "I knew the enemy were numerous, but I expected nothing like this." "Are you beginning to doubt are chances?" Will said without condemnation. "Chances?" Tactus' eyes looked haunted. "Maybe Sir Gardain was right. I love a good fight as well as the next man. I will defend our homeland 'till my death. Our men are skilled and hardy, but God, we are just not ready for this. Were you told how the enemy got across our traps?" Will shook his head. He'd not had time to hear any news than what his brother had told him. "They butchered their own soldiers, pushed the bodies into the pits, and the rest just walked straight across," Tactus shook his head. "Normally, an enemy has some regard for the lives of their comrades. But no, not this lot." He fell silent as he again looked across the valley. Sir Robert stood quietly for a moment. He too looked at the hoard across the valley, dismissing an offer of a telescope by one of his junior officers. Instead he answered the Captain in disgust, "If you are so worried about our chances, pack your things and go back to Morion," his voice a low hiss, "We don't need a leader in our midst that poisons his own mind with doubts." "My Lord, I...." Tactus began. "Save it, Captain!" Sir Robert cut him off. "Make a decision, and don't speak of your doubts again." Robert, turning away from the Captain of the Guard, came along side of Will. Will, pretending to ignore the exchange between the two men; turned to the junior officer with the telescope and said, "May I have a look?" "Of course." answered the officer a little too eagerly, relieved for the distraction, "Here you are, my Lord." Will took the glass and looked intently through it across the valley. The sun was dipping low to the horizon, the sky above turning a deep azure. Still, there was plenty of light to see the enemy clearly. Those across the valley appeared to be taking up housekeeping. He could see smoke rising from camp and watch fires. Muttering to himself, he said, "He's not there. No sign... Where the Devil is he?" Will took a bit more time, scanning from right to left and back again the enemy that faced him across the plain. "I know Morlyn, he'd announce his presence somehow." Then in a clear low voice he asked Alan, "Did you send Arrow to do some surveillance work?" "Yes, but he's not returned yet." "Hmmm..." Will considered what that might mean. "I wonder..." Sir Robert sighed at Will's musings and turned to Captain Tactus, "Have you sent out scouts to make sure we are not being outflanked?" "I sent out some of our scouts partnered with falconers so they could send back word quickly if needed." The Captain seemed to have come back to himself, "Currently all sides of the valley are clear of the enemy, save for straight across." Tactus paused hesitant to offer something that might be hearsay. Robert noticed his hesitation, "What!" "My Lord, there is a report yet unconfirmed...The Baron of Saint Yves apparently has gathered men from the devastated townships, and enlisted them in some sort of army." Will handed the telescope back to the waiting officer and looked back at the Captain, "Does this unconfirmed report mention numbers?" "Afraid not." Will considered this news. Meanwhile, Robert took the telescope and appeared to be looking across the valley, though Will assumed Morgan's lover was just keeping himself occupied while Will himself thought about the situation. Finally, he came to a conclusion; maybe not the best, but time had run out. The Baron with his ragtag army could not be counted on. At least, not considered in the mix of what was immediately going to occur. At best, this patched together contingent of fighters would only be an annoyance to Morlyn's forces. At worst, they might get in the way of Morion's troops. Morlyn's creatures may not consider each other's lives of any value, but Morion's did. They'd not want to hurt the newcomers, if indeed the Baron's men were stuck in the crossfire. Will silently prayed that the Baron was alert to the dangers from both sides, and kept his people away from friendly-fire. Interrupting Will's thoughts, a rider came racing up from the camp, "My Lords, some falcons have returned with news. Her Ladyship commands you counsel with her; at once." Will, Sir Robert and the rest followed the messenger back to camp. They left their mounts with the grooms and picked their way to the centre of the camp where Morion had had a tent set up. It was next to Morgan's. Both women were waiting outside for the men to appear. "See anything interesting," Morion said to all of them without humour, though her eyes were on Will. "Yes, My Lady," Will said quietly. Morion ushered them over to Sir David's and entered before them. As the warriors entered, they found the table around which were enough chairs for them all. As the men and Morgan found their seats, Will picked the stool in the far corner of the tent. "Not so, beloved." Morion motioned to the chair immediately to her right. It was the first public announcement of her love for him, and before her most trusted advisors, except, of course, for Sir David. Will was glad for the lamplight; it hid the blush in his cheeks. He could feel all eyes on him, particularly Morgan's. "Okay Lady and Gentlemen, much has occurred today. Morgan has acquainted me with the news of her extraordinary flight and the death of Morlyn's beast." Her eyes scanned the room, momentarily resting on each of her advisors in turn. "So, when can we expect the attack? And more importantly, do we stand a gems chance in Hell at surviving?" Captain Tactus, attempting to regain his self-respect before Sir Robert answered, "This enemy is unpredictable. I've given orders to extend a perimeter patrol around the camp and doubled the sentries on duty. A few of the falconers have owls. They too are being used to watch for any enemy activity." Tactus looked intently at Morion. "If I were this Morlyn, I'd attack tonight. But it appears that they are setting up camp; waiting." "Waiting for?" Morion lifted one elegant eyebrow at her Captain. "My Lady, I cannot say." Tactus fell silent. "I beg your pardon, my Lady." Will had placed his left hand on her arm. "Before we continue, may I have a report on how Sir David is fairing?" Morion's eyes sparkled with approval. "Surely." Then to the attendant at the door, "Summon both Dr. Ambros and Dr. Laroux." Turning back to the council, "While we wait, please related to me the readiness of our troops." Sir Robert answered somewhat gruffly, "The men are indeed ready. I made sure of that before my beloved took her little adventure." Morgan's eyes flashed with anger. Ignoring the heat of her temper, he continued, "The falconers have the potion satchels. The war machines are repaired and functional. And we have all the potion bombs from Laroux. The supplies have been distributed throughout the camp; ready for rapid deployment." Robert paused as if considering. "Yes, we're ready." Drs. Ambros and Laroux came striding into the tent as Robert finished. Ambros spoke first, "My Lady, you've summoned us?" "Yes," Morion was all business. "Tell us how my First Knight is doing." "He has a concussion, but nothing life threatening." Ambros paused to consider his words. "And he is conscious." Morion let out a relieved sigh. She had regretted hitting her Champion so hard; regardless of the need. Ambros looked over at Will, and spoke to him more than the rest. "He's still not himself. More so than could be accounted for by a mere concussion. He just stares into nothingness." "Has he said anything?" Will keep his eyes on Ambros' face. "Well, yes." Now it was Morgan's turn, "And what did he say? Stop hesitating..." Ambros and Laroux looked at one another before Laroux spoke, "It is I that heard him, my Lady. His words were a bit incoherent. I'm sure they are only spawned by delirium." Will got up and walked over to the Herbalist. "Please, tell us what he said." Taking a bit more time to compose himself, he answered, "Sir David said, 'Will...That bloody, son of a bitch Druid, will die. By the Holy Source, I will kill him.'" Laroux waited for a reaction. Will lowered his eyes and sighed. Then putting his arms around both men he guided them to the door. "Thank you. I..., we all, appreciate what you are doing for him. Please report back to us if his condition changes." The two men, glanced at the council and then left the tent muttering one to another other. Everyone in the room remained silent. The threat of Sir David, even in his sickened state, could not be dismissed lightly. Nor could the fact that Morion's troops were now without their military champion. The morale of the troops would be severely impacted without his leadership, courage, and bravado. "Now there is the matter of Morion herself," Will's voice cracked like a whip in the gloomy silence. "What do you mean?" Morion eyed him suspiciously, instinctively knowing where he was headed, but determined to make short work of his arguments. "I mean, you have complicated things by being here," Will responded. Morgan joined in, "Morion, we've been friends for more years than I'll mention, but Will is right. As sovereign, your place isn't here. It is back in your Capital." All the heads in the tent were nodding in agreement. Morgan stood, her bearing majestic and her eyes flashing dangerously. "My place is with my people, and I'll be damned if I'd let any of you talk me out of being here." Her voice, ice cold, continued, "I'm staying and will dismiss from these ranks anyone who attempts to convince me otherwise." Turning to Will, her eyes still flashing sparks, she said, "So, what is it you were about to say?" She was totally taken aback by his booming laughter. "Oh, my love...how much you still do not know of me. I would rather face ten thousand wood demons than attempt to lure you away from this battle. All I said was, your presence complicates things. But it also has given us an advantage I don't believe Morlyn will anticipate." Morion looked flustered for a moment. But time passes quickly when urgency is called for, and she soon regained her composure. At that moment a loud rustling of wings and a high screech rang out just beyond the tent's door. A guard opened it from without and announced, "My Lady, forgive my interruption, but this Lordly bird..." "Lordly Eagle," she corrected him with a laugh. "This Lordly Eagle is making quite a fuss out here. I believe it...." "He." She corrected again. "Yes, my Lady. I believe he wants in." "Then by all means, let him in." Her eyes sparkled. Even in such a dire situation, Will thought he'd never seen a face, so full of life, humour, and vitality. They all watched as Arrow hopped up to, then with one flap landed on, the table before Morion. Will went back and took his sit with her before the great bird. Just momentarily he let his mind clear of all else save for the Great Eagle before him. With a relieved sigh he said, "My Ladies and Gentle Sirs, based on Arrow's information, we should fear no attack tonight. Morlyn wishes to savour our defeat in broad daylight." Will was always impressed at the clarity which the Eagle could deliver messages. "Morlyn is not yet in the camp. He is back where Morgan and I fell Lord Banon." "What the blazes is he doing there?" Robert chimed in. Morion looked at him with some surprise, "Would you rather have him here now?" Robert held her gaze. "Yes, my Lady. Better here where we can at least keep an eye on him than God knows where." "But we do know where he is," interrupted Will. "We just don't yet know why." He paused and considered, "But it doesn't matter. Sending out perimeter patrols and doubling the watch was the wisest thing to be done." Captain Tactus nodded his head in acknowledgement of the approval. William Black © Continues... Chronicle III, Main page |