Crystal King (Riland Throne Book 1) Read online

Unless things got worse and they had no barony at all to go back to. Then he would be free. His heart took him down an imaginary trail of hopes and dreams until reality stepped in, and he saw how foolish such dreams were. Wishing for the failure of the barony? He had real issues to deal with, and couldn’t afford such daydreaming. He couldn’t abandon the people for Saleena or for anyone. He banished the dangerous thoughts from his mind. There was work to do. Maybe he would have time later to dream.

  He looked up again. The eagle was gone.

  * * *

  Gavin considered the people who sat around the fire, and how they looked to him to lead, each for their own reasons. Draken, the masters from the barony, even Saleena, Tover and Lindy looked to him for decisions.

  Draken arrived in a foul mood and fumed about his unexpected recruit. “What am I supposed to do with this untrained hothead? We can’t train a proper army as we flee from the invasion. We don’t even have weapons to issue.”

  Adrian melted out of the shadows and dropped a bundle on the ground with a loud clatter. “Sure, we do. We found twenty longswords and about as many long daggers, and an even dozen bows along with other assorted smaller blades. I can bring the rest later. Do you need anything else to expand your training program, Master Draken?”

  Draken pulled out a blade and inspected the edge. “We’ll always need more time to train, but this will help. This is nice workmanship. Northern make?”

  Adrian nodded. “Some northern, some local. I liberated them from the garrison King Ithan left in Greenvale. I’m sure the king will be disappointed his men aren’t holding the town as he planned.”

  Gavin’s mouth hung open. He tried to wrap his head around the information and its implications. “They overran the town as we expected, then? What about the people who refused to leave?”

  Adrian’s eyebrows pinched together and he frowned. “We lost a few families who stayed behind with the idiot reeve who stormed out of your dinner meeting. The ones we convinced to leave arrived with me an hour ago. The army took no prisoners. Everyone who stayed behind died.”

  Draken shook his head. “Filthy butchers.” He focused back on Adrian with a piercing gaze. “Did you recognize any of them?”

  Adrian shrugged. “I didn’t get too close while the main army was there. I didn’t know any of the garrison men we killed.” With an abrupt change of subject, Adrian continued, “Because of our work to scatter the wild game, the army has gone off the main road to search for hunting areas and to take villages my men haven’t had time to reach with a warning. I followed the main road straight here. We slowed them down with our traps, but not enough. They’ll still gain ground on us if we don’t pick up our pace.”

  Gavin looked to his side where Tover sat. “Tover? Is there any word on moving farther each day?”

  Tover deferred with a polite wave to Lindy, who stood. “Thank you for allowing me to meet with you. We’ve worked out some details to get us on the road an hour earlier each day by grouping people into larger camp units with specific assignments, and we’re working through some details on how to limit the mid-day delays like breakdowns. We can flag wagons with spare capacity so we’ll redistribute goods as needed. We don’t have a lot of flexibility, but we know what we have now.” She sat back down.

  Gavin thought of the woman whose belongings were left beside the trail. They might have had room to carry all those things, but it was no use second-guessing his past choices.

  He wondered at the details of Lindy’s and Tover’s work to organize the caravan, but it was useless information in his hands. They were best at what they did, and he had to trust them to do their jobs.

  Master Quincy piped up from the shadows where he sat away from the fire. “I noticed you redirected several of my wagons and rearranged their inventory. Was it too much to arrange it with me first?”

  Gavin pursed his lips, and then answered. “I’m sorry you weren’t consulted, but with the breakdown of a wagon, we were at risk of stopping everyone a half day early. I doubt anyone wants to be a half day closer to the army behind us. Lindy acted at my request, so you can address any questions to me.”

  Master Quincy took a long pull on a drink. “Well, it figures you would have your fingers in the problem.” Belatedly, he added, “Sir. The people line up to eat out of your hand like trained animals. I have a hard enough time keeping the trade goods isolated and protected. The last remaining wealth of the barony is at stake.”

  Lindy stirred, but Tover put a hand on her arm and glanced at Gavin.

  Gavin wondered what to say as Tover and the others watched with concern. It came down to sacrifice. “If we must choose between speed and secure supplies, then security must bend. If we lose our speed, they will overrun us. Nothing else matters. I’m ready to listen if you have any suggestions which do not slow us down. If you have no suggestions, then join in on the conversation and work with everyone else. Can you do that?”

  Master Quincy gave a reluctant nod. “Of course. I can assure you I will work with the others so long as they use common sense.”

  Gavin had given him little choice on how he could respond without losing face, yet Quincy had still twisted it to be about the failures of other people.

  “Tover and Lindy, would you be sure to keep all the Masters informed on what we need to do to move faster? This is especially important if we need cooperation on anything under their authority.” He made sure he had everyone’s attention. “Our lives are at stake. Speed trumps property, ownership, and everything else if need be. Remember that.”

  Both Tover and Lindy gave enthusiastic agreement that they could work together with the various council members.

  Draken placed the northern blade back into the bag and spoke. “People got jittery with the slowdown today. Maybe some extra training will keep some of them occupied in the evenings, rather than letting them wander around spreading rumors. With these weapons, I’ll be able to take a small group of beginners for training.”

  Adrian said with a grin, “I’ll give you names of men who will be better off worn out with weapon practice. I’ve spotted a few men I wish would stop stating their complaints quite so freely. They are bad for morale. Speaking of rumors, sir, the people believe you’re secretly building an army of war animals to take the fight to the invaders.”

  Gavin spread his hands in frustration. “How do these things start? We’re slowly creating some new crystals. We have a herd of cattle, some oxen, three cats, a few dogs and a couple wolves and half-wolves. They trapped a badger yesterday to add to the list. Only two from the entire list have actual war training, and one of them is still recovering from an injury. It’s hardly an army.”

  Draken said, “Those animals, a few guards, some retired footmen, a few shadow skulks,” he nodded at Adrian, “and some beginning trainees are what we have for our defenses. I’ll pull the men Adrian refers to me with Captain Zachary, but the men will never be more than a few minutes of delay if the army catches up to us. We can’t fight very many with what we have. Five hundred footmen and fifty war animals would make quick work of us, even with our growing numbers.”

  A girl stepped into the light of their campfire and whimpered. She was gagged, and her hands were tied.

  Tover leaped up and ran to untie the gag as Lindy joined him to untie her hands. They helped the girl to sit on Lindy’s lap, her arms around the girl. Her wrists and face were rubbed raw by the rough cloth, and she had claw marks on her arms.

  Tover said, “Izzy, what happened?”

  She took a ragged breath. “He said to bring you a message or he would hurt Ma and Pa.” She held out a coin, her face pale. “You won’t let him hurt them, will you, Master Tover?”

  Tover took the coin and handed it to Gavin. It had a man’s face on it, just like the box of coins Gavin had found in his treasury. It was a coin from the Graven Kingdom.

  Gavin clenched his jaw and held in his outrage, not wanting Izzy to think he was mad at her. He should have known of the danger to
Tover’s messengers because of the killed cattle, and should have sent the children to their families already. He regained enough composure to say, “Tover, the children are done running errands for you. Warn everyone to keep children close. We don’t have any way to keep spies from walking into camp.”

  He turned to Adrian, his voice dead and cold as his insides churned. “Adrian, please check with Captain Zachary about his patrols. I’ve had him out searching since we lost the two animals. It could be a single spy watching us.”

  Someone watching. Gavin remembered the eagle in flight above the caravan, and his eyes widened. How could he have been so stupid? “Izzy, are those claw marks on your arms from a large bird?”

  She nodded.

  Gavin turned to the members of his council. “I’ve seen an eagle flying overhead. If it’s crystal controlled, the spy can watch us from above and know more than any ground observer would. He might even know more about our overall movements and specific challenges than we do. I want this man found. He threatens all of us by threatening one of us.”

  Adrian stood to look at the horizon, his knuckles white as he held the hilt of his knife. Through clenched teeth, he said, “This wasn’t a threat. He’s taunting us, sir. Trust me. I know this game by heart. It’s time we put a little hunting party together and put some pressure on our spy.”

  Something about the grass seemed off to Adrian as he examined it under the light of a nearly full moon. Bent and broken stalks of dry grass among the low sage urged him forward to investigate, but this assignment called for caution. He held up a hand, stopping both Captain Zachary and Ruffian instantly. The guard, Otis, lay back in the camp controlling and directing Ruffian. Otis was the only member of the hunting party to enjoy any degree of safety.

  Adrian signaled Ruffian forward to sniff out the trail. The half-wolf padded up to Adrian under the control of his master. Ruffian pointed forward, and then crept farther along the faint trail, low to the ground.

  Adrian followed a few steps behind, nearly as silent as the wolf. At least Captain Zachary knew his limits and held back farther where his noise was less likely to alert their quarry.

  Ruffian stopped and pointed his nose at a patch of flattened grass. Their quarry was already gone.

  “Of all the shattered luck,” Adrian said. “He was here, probably until just after sunset. Any eagle droppings around?”

  The half-wolf sniffed around, then pawed the ground exposing eagle and human waste buried under a thin layer of soil.

  Captain Zachary crunched his way through the grass to the hidden mini-camp. “At least we’ve confirmed what we’re up against. How do you see so well in the dark, Adrian?”

  “Stop looking at the cooking fires and the moon. It ruins your night vision, and the fires aren’t going anywhere. Any chance we can track him by smell from here?”

  Ruffian pointed.

  Adrian said, “Good. Let’s get to it, then. He might have just moved ahead and camped for the night. We can track for an hour or two before we have to return and report in.”

  The darkness slowed them, but they made steady progress, with enough scent for the half-wolf to track. Two false trails led them away momentarily, but they tracked back and continued. The man they followed was clever, but not good enough to hide from both Adrian and the half-wolf.

  Zachary’s part of this mission was to provide extra muscle if and when they caught up to the man. So far, there were only signs of one man. That would make him an infiltrator, a spy. Someone trained to sneak in, observe, take out targets of opportunity, and then escape.

  The half-wolf stopped and circled. The trail was a dead-end leaving them out in the grass and brush with no more clues.

  Adrian knew the job and the methods used, but never relied on the additional abilities of a war-trained animal. He could think the way this man did. The false trails and the faint tracks painted a picture of a man afraid of getting caught. But Adrian would have been much more careful and left no camp signs or trail at all. That meant the man was careless. Unless...

  Adrian turned to signal Zachary to stop.

  His voice pitched just above the gentle wind, Adrian said, “The trail ends here, with no sign of backtracking. He’s better than I thought. He must have known he was being followed and led us out here on purpose.”

  Zachary said in the same hushed tones, “Ambush, or trap? I always prefer to know how I’m about to die.”

  “He’s almost certainly solo. That means it’s a trap. Let’s back out on the trail we came in on. Slowly.”

  Even Zachary could follow the trail he’d left through the grass, so he led the way.

  Fifty paces along their return trail, Adrian heard a snap at Zachary’s feet and saw the tripwire.

  Instinct kicked in. Adrian jumped forward and plowed into Zachary’s back, pushing him to the ground. A small metal projectile whizzed overhead and into the dark, just missing Adrian’s neck.

  Zachary rolled onto his back and looked up, spitting out grass and dirt. “How about you give me a breather and go first for a while?”

  “Right.” Adrian had underestimated his opponent twice now. Not only was he good enough to lay a false trail or no trail at all, he watched them and booby trapped their return path. He was close, but he was also ready and waiting for them.

  Was it worth risking the lives of Captain Zachary and a war trained half-wolf? His life was never on the scales when Adrian measured the potential cost. He would go to the beyond when it was his time, but his companions deserved more time to live, and he shied away from risking them against more traps with little chance of success. Perhaps Adrian could force his opponent into making a mistake if he played everything just right.

  Raising his voice, he said, “I’m calling it. We’re done chasing for the night. He’s outfought me in my own head. He might still be watching, so get ready to sprint this way, and not right next to each other.” Adrian pointed perpendicular to the trail, and slightly toward their camp.

  Switching back to a subdued whisper, he continued, “I’m not running with you. Go out two hundred steps, then straight back to camp at your best speed. If he’s still watching, he may take a shot. Otis, weave as you run Ruffian to camp. Zachary, you just run. You’ll weave just fine on your own. Whatever you do, don’t fall.”

  Zachary gave a crooked grin. “Your confidence warms my heart. You have my candle promise.”

  “And you have mine.” It was an old army phrase, a promise to burn a candle if you came out alive where others didn’t.

  Adrian nocked an arrow in his horn bow while still on the ground out of sight, then counted down for them. “Three, two, one, run.”

  His two companions took off, and Adrian eased into a bush to watch along the optimal viewing path to where he would have hidden to watch this spot. Would the spy make a mistake after such a flawless performance? It was worth waiting to find out.

  He settled his aim on the most likely clump of brush and counted out until his friends were at close to maximum range for a bow or crossbow.

  There. A slight movement in the brush, out of sync with the wind. A glint of moonlight catching on something besides branches and leaves. Adrian’s ploy to send just his companions had kept the man from firing and exposing his position. His friends were safe because the tables had been turned momentarily. The watcher was now watched. Adrian expected no hesitation if the spy showed himself in the moonlight.

  Adrian held his breath, aimed, and let his arrow fly through the night air.

  He was rewarded with the sound of splintering wood and a grunt from the brush. He might have hurt his quarry, but the arrow could have hit a branch or glanced off the man’s armor. Adrian whispered, “Tag. You’re it.”

  Adrian crept toward the man’s hiding spot in the brush, staying below the tops of the grass. He never saw his opponent leave, but his enemy’s last known position was empty when he got there.

  * * *

  Saleena watched over Willem while he lay in a trance
on his bedroll. The Cats of the Apocalypse ran through an intricate training routine to learn new techniques for hunting together while she rested. She had spent far too much time today controlling the cattle to keep them from slowing the caravan.

  She peered out into the field searching for Willem’s small predators, but was unable to catch a hint of the cats as he directed them to their prey. A raven sat on a low branch a couple of stone throws away from the edge of the camp. It had followed them for days and swooped in to pick up leftover food whenever it found something unguarded. Willem’s job was to capture the bird, rather than allow the cats to follow their instinct to treat this as a food hunt.

  A flutter of wings caught Saleena’s attention as the bird showed interest in something on the ground. Saleena let out a dejected sigh. The bird saw the danger and was about to fly when Skull Crusher ran up the rear of the trunk and launched herself from directly behind the raven. The calico wrapped her front paws around the distracted bird and dropped to the ground with it.

  Despite her exhaustion, Saleena leaped to her feet and made her way out into the field. She pulled one of the smaller crystals from a pouch on her hip. The cats held the bird down so it wouldn’t be hurt, and she gently eased past the extended claws and teeth to attach the crystal via a special harness. A simple collar wouldn’t work on a bird, so she used a set of tiny straps to hold the stone in place against its breast to keep it near both mind and heart. The crystal might work strapped to a leg, but they didn’t have a lot of time to experiment. Once the crystal was on, she wrapped her hands around the raven and held its wings close, then said in a soft tone meant to calm the bird, “I’ve got it. Great job.”

  Saleena marveled at how well the cats accepted training hints and directions from Willem as a team while Willem provided their high-level tactics. Over time, the cats filled in more and more of the details to match what Willem wanted them to accomplish. They didn’t need to be told to use a particular swipe of their claws or to crouch down while stalking. Willem had advanced to where Saleena had nothing to teach him.