What Enchantment Hides - Book 1

Chapter 13

         The armies reached the fields at the border of Kezna and stopped. It was midday and Calya and Cornelius looked ahead, squinting in the sun. The older forest angel dropped down beside her. “Your highness, would you like me to fly a bit further and report back on what lies ahead?”

         Calya nodded and thanked him. “Please do.” The angel motioned to one other of his companions and they both took off into the sky to scout ahead. The princess looked over at Fallon. “We break here for two days before we meet on the field.”

         Fallon smiled, but it was the type of smile that made the young woman anxious. It wasn’t a joyful smile. It was a dark smile. It made her skin crawl to see him smile like that after the months of him being separated from all real violence. In fact, their journey together had gone nearly flawless up till now. He rode ahead a little ways and turned his horse around to face the men. “Make camp!” his voice boomed over the mostly empty landscape.

         The two angels returned just as Calya and Fallon got their horses unsaddled. “Your highness.” They dropped to the ground in front of them.

         “What do you have to report?” the princess asked, setting her saddle down on the grass.

         “The armies have clashed. It looks like we will indeed be entering an all out war. They are almost evenly matched in size. When we join the prince, the stewards forces will be greatly outnumbered. Our hope is that they will surrender when they see the reinforcements.”

         “Alright. Thank you.” The young woman turned to Fallon. “Fallon, gather the group you and Gammir chose and return here. We may not have two days to rest.”

         He bowed his head and left immediately. The forest angels followed him into the crowd of men and then went their own way. Fallon came back with Gammir and a group of twenty-five men. Fifteen of them were forest angels. They were very large, hulking men, Raimor was one of them. Raimor had chosen the strongest of his warriors in case they had to carry Calya and Fallon over the wall. “Let’s make our plan," the princess said, her excitement nearly tangible.



 

         The group of soldiers sat with Cornelius, Calya and Fallon and the two commanders, Gammir and Raimor under the trees while the others had broken into groups across the field to lay out in the grass, spar, or get tips from those with more experience. The strategy was being discussed and no one could quite agree on the details. Cornelius was adamant of his own opinion. “The most efficient way to make this a success is to fly over the walls, take out the archers there using Raimor’s men and drop Calya and Fallon in the courtyard to face off the steward. The rest of the men should be dropped just ahead of them to clear the way should there be any guards up with him which there no doubt will be.”

         Fallon disagreed. “I don’t think that is a good idea. Much of Orin’s forces are Trayzer’s old men, correct?” Cornelius nodded. “They will not follow him if they have no victory in sight. I say we merge our forces with the prince’s, but not from behind or the side. We bring our army forward in a show of dramatic force, the angels flying just out of reach of a sword in front of the horsemen. We make an obvious, outward show of fearless offense and merge with the front of Ferut’s military to give the largest shock factor possible. We don’t want Orin’s men knowing what hit them. They do not want to fight for the steward, so chances are they will be willing to make a truce. Most of them will be friendly towards the queen, so we use that to our advantage. We have our small group here ride forward with her while the angels take out the archers as you said. Then we ride through the city itself. Hope is our greatest ally. If the people see the queen riding in, wearing the royal crest, they will no longer fear retaliation if they revolt. Gain the loyalty of the people before you even reach the courtyard. Force Orin to face defeat before he even knows what has happened. It’s the best chance we have.” He looked around at the group, hoping for some sense of who may be with him. Calya appreciated his skill for strategy and his knowledge of men’s loyalty.

         Raimor added his plan to the mix. “I think Fallon is right, however, I do not think we should only have the horsemen ride forth with the queen. I would find it wiser to have a battalion of my men surrounding her as well. They can take out any attempted attacks from the air from a distance and spot any archers that may have been missed by my soldiers clearing the wall. We don’t want to allow too much of an opening before we know she is out of harm’s way. It is an instant defeat if she is taken down. It won’t matter if the people see their queen or not. The moment she is seriously injured or killed, we lose this entire thing.”

         Gammir sat silent, looking thoughtful. The princess noticed his expression and asked if he had another idea to add. He cleared his throat and looked as many of the men in the eyes as possible. “How many of you lived in Kezna and left to escape tyranny?” Five men raised their gloved fists. “How many of you know men that still serve Orin in his military who would turn on a dime to serve the rightful queen?” All five raised their hands again. He inclined his head toward them and faced Calya. “We should announce that the queen has returned and all men that drop their weapons will be spared from death in battle. When all the men who are still loyal to the crown make their decision, we send in the entire angel army to take out those who are still itching to fight. But as Raimor said, you will need much greater protection. However, it would cause unnecessary bloodshed to kill every man on the walls without even knowing if they would fight for you if they knew who you really were.”

         Fallon jumped in, his voice foreboding and low. “If we announce her, then we leave her exposed and all of Orin’s men know exactly where to aim their shots. If the men do not lay down their arms, then we doom this entire plan.”

         Gammir shook his head. “I don’t think so. We send Raimor’s archers in first. We leave Calya behind. We wait for them to give the all clear from the wall. Then we ride with her.”
         They all looked at the princess for her opinion before anyone else continued. She looked over every man’s face, weighing how each one may feel before speaking. “I think Gammir is right. We must at least offer the men the chance to surrender. The quickest and easiest route is not always the most efficient or successful,” she commented, looking at Cornelius. “We will merge armies in the front of the field, leading with Raimor’s forces. However, Raimor, I want you to take some of your men ahead to find the prince and try to offer a truce to Orin’s forces. We have to take into account that Prince Ferut may mistake another force as an attack instead of reinforcements. We will give them a few minutes to choose whether to lay down their weapons or be wiped out. The forest angels will then move past the field and over the walls and search the courtyard to take out any archers or foot soldiers who are still prepared to fight. Our horsemen will do the same on the field. I will hang back until this is done. Worst case scenario, we get flown over the walls and into the courtyard, Fallon and me. The hope is that I will be able to ride through the city and raise morale in the city so the people are prepared for an uprising if Orin does not surrender. Raimor, you and your men will surround me and my horsemen until just before the city gate where you all will disperse and keep watch over us from the air as we make our way through the streets to the courtyard. Are we all agreed to this?”
         The prophet leaned forward slowly, a question burning in his eyes. “And what will happen to Orin?” The entire group looked at her with great expectation.
         “Once we have secured the city, the forest angels will take him and his family and they will be publicly executed in the palace courtyard.” There was Fallon’s smile again. She grimaced. “Any last thoughts?” No one made a sound.
         Finally Fallon stood. “Alright, boys, we’re about to have some fun.”
         The men stood and stretched, retreating back to the rest of the army in the field. “Gammir, Raimor,” the princess called. “We move first thing in the morning. Have the men rest up as much as possible today. I do not want to hang back and allow more unnecessary deaths than we have to. We march at dawn.” The two commanders nodded and left to spread the word. Cornelius slowly rose and turned away to take a walk to clear his head before the next day. He would not be involved in this battle. He would stay behind the armies and watch from a distance. He was in no condition to go to war at his age.
         A moment later, Fallon and Calya were left alone. The young woman put her head back against the trunk of the tree and closed her eyes, breathing out a deep, heavy sigh of anticipation. Fallon walked over and sat next to her. “Are you ready for this?” he asked.
         “Are you?” she replied, opening her eyes and looking at him.
         His dark, crimson eyes looked at her, glinting fiercely behind the strands of his black hair. “What do you mean? When am I ever not ready for this? I was bred for this, milady. I will never not be ready.”
         She shook her head and focused on a single blade of grass between her boots. “That’s what I’m afraid of. You are too excited and too happy about going into battle.”
         The young man thought he understood her concern now. “You’re worried I’ll find the killing too empowering and fun. And you’re worried that I won’t know when to stop, aren’t you?”
         “Should I not be?”
         Fallon puffed out his cheeks and let the air out through his lips, rubbing the back of his neck with a rough hand. “I don’t think you should be.” Even though his tone sounded somewhat comforting, his expression spoke of uncertainty. “Don’t worry about me. You have a lot more on your plate than I do. Why don’t you take a walk or something. If you want me to follow behind just to keep an eye on you, I will. But this is the last day you have to lay low in any way. If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for everyone else. Your stress level is going to kill us all, Cal.”

         She shot him a sideways glance, but got up and headed in the opposite direction. He asked her if she wanted him to follow along, but she waved him off dismissively and kept walking. She chuckled to herself as she walked. For the first time in almost a month, she actually took in her surroundings. The lush, green, high grass in the fields of her kingdom, spread for miles. The birds skittered from tree to tree calling to one another and feeding their young. Small gray and brown bunnies scurried over the ground in multiple directions, their cottony tails bouncing as their back feet launched them forward through the blades of grass. The trees around them were tall. Some had slender trunks and some had thick ones. Some bore ripe, dark fruit, and others were covered in an array of multicolored flowers.

         She eventually made her way back around to the army camp and spotted Fallon, shirtless again. She moved closer, looking as though she was wandering aimlessly through the gathering. There was a light wind, stronger than a breeze, but soft and warm. Sweat beaded on Fallon’s tan skin and dripped down over his lean, solid abs. The wind blew his shaggy hair across his forehead and eyes as he clashed with another swordsman from Tant. She recognized the other, burly man from the entourage that used to cheer Skara on at the Marsh Guard. Her gaze returned to Fallon’s uncovered upper body covered in glistening moisture. She let a slight smile play on her lips as she watched him move. He saw her from the corner of his eye and the edge of his mouth tipped up for just a moment before he blocked another blow and turned away. Calya straightened and turned away to return to her campsite.

         Calya was up before dawn and saddled her horse. Fallon walked up beside her and stroked the beast’s neck with a steady hand. “Are you nervous, highness?”

         She pulled the girth tight and buckled it, testing the strap. “I was bred for this,” she said coolly. “Why would I be nervous?”

         Her response made him uneasy. “Cal, look at me.” She continued checking the horse's tack, refusing to look at him. “Will you stop and just look at me?”

         “I said I’m not nervous, Fallon.” She glared at him with rock solid determination, and yet there was something else behind the look in her eyes. There was an uncertain fear, a crack in her armor.

         He knew exactly what it was from. She said his own comment back to him as a way to tell him without telling him. “What are you afraid of?”

         She looked at him, anger burning in her icy stare. “I’m not afraid. I’m just getting ready to go.” She walked away from him hurriedly to grab her cloak from the base of the tree.

         He followed her and, when she stopped, he grabbed her wrist and spun her around to face him. “Do you really think I would betray these men, your kingdom and you, Cal?”

         She struggled to pull her hand out of his solid grip. “Let me go.”

         He didn’t. “You didn’t answer me, Calya.”

         She tried, again, to pull away. “I don’t have to answer you. I’m your queen.” She swung to slap him.

         He caught her other hand and pushed her back against the tree so she was pinned by his body against the rough bark, his face close to hers. “Not yet, you aren’t milady. I answered your question. So why don’t you repay the favor by answering mine. Do you think so little of me that you would expect me to taste blood again and betray my queen and all of your men?”
         “Should I think more highly of you, Fallon?” She indicated her position, his body trapping her against the tree trunk, her hands pinned beside her head, and her eyes challenged him to remember everything he had done to her in the past.
         Fallon had to admit that for the first time, he felt the sharp pain of betrayal himself. He released her hands and stepped back, her cold resolve staring him down. “I would never betray you, my queen. I will defend you until my dying breath, whether on the field of battle or beyond.” He took her hand and gently kissed the back of it before bowing his head and turned to leave. He hesitated a moment and glanced over his shoulder. “If I have to prove that to you with my life in battle, then so be it.” With that, he walked away, leaving her staring after him, her mouth slightly open.

         She looked around and saw many of the men nearby staring in awkward confusion. She lifted her head, put on her cloak and mounted her horse. With a final look back at Fallon, she dug in her heels and rode toward the city. Fallon gritted his teeth and ran to his unsaddled steed. Placing one hand on its back, he used his momentum to swing himself up onto its back. The horse reared in protest as he forced its head to turn in the direction the princess had gone. He loosened his hold on the reins and let the stallion have his head, urging it into a gallop to catch up with Calya. He thundered past the soldiers out onto the open field. He could see her silhouette up ahead and whispered to his horse to go faster. With a new burst of speed, the stallion raced over the grass toward the other rider. A few minutes more and he had caught up. She ignored him and continued riding until she reached a hill and pulled her mount to a halt. Fallon pulled back on his reins and his horse slid to a stop a yard ahead of her. He turned back and rode up next to her.

         “What are you doing?”

         She looked straight ahead and nodded toward the city. He followed her gaze and watched as fire burned in patches outside the city walls. They could see faint streaks of light as the archers on the wall shot fiery arrows. “I had to see it for myself.” Smoke rose from the grassy plains and even from their great distance, they could hear the sounds of death - men screaming, metal clashing, horses whinnying and squealing. Calya looked at Fallon’s face and saw his excitement for the battle. She tried to shove down her anxiety at his expression and focus on her responsibility.

         They both turned around as another rider came from behind and stopped beside them on the hill. Gammir nodded. “Your highness, the men are ready and heading out. We have left all extra packs and supplies where we camped.” Calya nodded her approval solemnly.

         Minutes later, the group of twenty-five soldiers joined them. The forest angels flew overhead with Raimor leading them. They watched as a small battalion of them split off and shot forward to alert the prince of their arrival and announce her presence. The rest of the army on horseback rode past them as Gammir kicked his horse to lead their charge. Calya, Fallon and their soldiers rode behind the main army. They heard the battle go strangely quiet as Raimor announced her and offered mercy to any who would lay down their weapons. From her place she could see corpses of soldiers littering the field. Some were burned alive from flaming arrows, others were sliced up from a blade, still others were stabbed through in various spots on their bodies. There were limbs severed from bodies, heads staring sightlessly in whatever direction they happened to face when they fell. Blood covered the grass and smoke rose from the fires covering the field. Screams of the wounded echoed off the stone walls of the city. Calya tried to swallow the lump in her throat at the sight of all the gore and death. Fallon watched her carefully for a moment before returning his gaze to what lay before them. An angel flew back to them and reported that men were laying down their weapons upon hearing that the queen had returned and asked for their loyalty to restore civility and peace.

         Raimor and his warriors looked down at the wall. One of his men shouted and pointed. “Raimor! The men! Hurry!” He looked to where the other was pointing. And he was horrified.

         As men dropped their weapons and cheered, those who remained loyal to the steward took the opportunity to weed out the men who were still faithful to the crown. A mass slaughter ensued. The men on the wall took out their swords and attacked those who were waiting to see their queen. The screaming was terrible. Blood poured onto the stone as soldiers were taken by surprise. Raimor called out a command and the forest angels strung their arrows from the air and rained down showers of death onto those men who still stood with the steward. On the battlefield, however, it was a different story.
         Calya’s army swept to the front and rushed the enemy and the men who had taken the queen’s offer reversed their fighting onto the steward’s soldiers. The prince rallied his men anew with a battle cry and the soldiers of Hundertel resumed their fight with renewed hope. Calya and Fallon raced across the field, their swordsmen surrounding them on horseback and the archers flying overhead. They could smell the death. It was a smell of sorrow and loss. The tattered bodies of men lay strewn around the horses’ hooves as they thundered across the bloodied grass, but some who were still living reached out in desperation, crying in agony. The queen fought to stay focused ahead, to not lose herself in the horror of what was around them. Tears threatened to fall and cloud her vision. The horseman to her right fell screaming as blood spattered from where he was struck. The rider behind him closed the gap beside her, hacking through foot soldiers at every moment. Her allies were closing in on the gate now. The tide was turning.
         Fallon called to her, but his voice sounded muffled. He was used to this. This was his element. But Calya was sick. She was ready to vomit and felt like she would black out at any moment. She wanted to hide, to forget all of this. She was afraid. She was afraid and wanted to turn back. Fallon saw her resolve waning as they neared the wall. He reached out for her, but was hit with something hard and solid. He fell almost completely off his horse and without the saddle, he struggled to regain his seat. He felt himself slipping and his fingers losing their hold on the steed’s mane. He spotted a few bodies piled with a man’s helmeted head upright. He swung himself down and kicked off of the head to remount his horse. He pulled his stallion nearer to the queen and grabbed hold of her reins just as she was beginning to pull them back in panic. She looked at him in horror and without comprehension. Her horse sped up and he held control. Yet now he was vulnerable. He could not fight while he held and directed her horse for her. He made a quick decision. In a moment, he positioned himself and leaped from the back of his horse to hers and sat behind her, urging the mount faster as his horse veered away to the left. The angels broke away and flew upwards. A moment later, Calya and Fallon broke through the gate opening. The men who had surrendered to her gave their lives to get the gate open. Fallon saw them slaughtered at the opening by their enemies. The horse jumped the mound of bodies and then he slowed as he reached the town where citizens were hiding in their houses. The angels had taken down Orin’s men near the gate, but now they were entering a town where someone could be hiding behind every wall. Raimor’s men flew above them and he urged the horse on. The streets were more cramped here and with the bodies of soldiers laying everywhere, he had to slow even more to navigate.

         Orin heard the change in the battle and ran out of the great hall. Something was wrong. He looked out over the city and saw forest angels and the men on the city walls laying down their weapons. Then he watched as his men turned on them. He saw the angels pick off his soldiers as they struggled to save those who were turning against him. He ran to another point in the courtyard, nearer to the stone steps leading into the city. He heard loud cheering and a man’s deep, echoing voice resounding on the stone structures from the city square. He listened intently, but in horror, he already knew what he would hear. He was panicking. He had relied on his wealth, influence and power to protect him. The steward had assumed that if he broke the people of the realm down, he could squash any thoughts of rebellion. However, he had underestimated the power and determination of Kezna’s allies to protect the land, even if it meant wiping the city from the map to begin again. Somehow, they had received reinforcements. How? He did not know. It could not have been possible unless she had somehow managed to return. And what he heard proved that she did indeed return.

         Fallon swung the horse around in the square. It was only then that he noticed the massive amount of soldiers that had followed them through the gate. “You need to stay with me, Cal. Your people need you. They need their queen.” He felt her take a shaky breath. And then another more steady one.

         “Don’t let me down, Fallon, because I can’t do this.”
         He leaned closer to her ear and said calmly. “I need you to sit up straighter. I don’t care if you have to pretend. You need to show them that you are here to save them.” She stiffened and he felt her straighten in the saddle. It must have taken everything she had left. The queen unclasped her brooch as Fallon took hold of her cloak and threw it away from her, exposing the royal family’s crest to those who could see them.
         “People of Kezna!” he shouted, hearing his own voice over the screams and sounds of battle. There were people still fighting and dying in the city. He could hear them. But the angels were handling that. “Your queen has returned! All those still faithful to the crown will be saved! The savagery ends today! The needless killing ends today! Today, you have your queen!” To his surprise people ran out of their doors and cheered, they tried to reach for her, to take her hand. They pushed forward. Her return had instilled so much hope, that they were crowding into the streets, even while the war still raged about them.

         One of the soldiers came up to him. “Fallon, we need to get to the courtyard. We must get to the steward. He will know we have come.”

         Fallon nodded to him and kicked his horse, pulling back on the reins and forcing the beast to rear for the sake of boosting morale. He raised his sword in the air and shouted, “To the hall! May the reign of the queen never cease!” He turned the steed and dug his heels in, heading to the courtyard. As the horse jumped forward, the people repeated the cry.

         Fallon urged the horse to the courtyard, thundering over the cobblestone in the city. His dark eyes were fixed on the palace that rose above the housetops, his expression darkening. Up there was where this all started. That was the beginning of all of his problems. Calya was struggling to stay conscious in the saddle in front of him. He held her on with strong arms against her sides. His face was beside hers, his chin nearly resting on the princess’ shoulder. Seeing a forest angel dropping down before him, he reined in her mount.



         Orin had begun sweating. His palms were clammy. Despite all of his manipulation and power, he was a coward. Afraid of the final consequences of everything he had done, he panicked. All of his money, influence, status and power meant nothing now. They were coming for him and there was no escape. He ran toward the great hall and called to his guards to stand at the steps to the city. However, as if on cue, the forest angels that were scouting ahead in the city flew overhead, releasing arrows into the castle guards. Orin was trapped. He hadn’t been a military commander in decades. He had grown fat and lazy, drunk on the position he had killed for. But now his time had come.
         Orin’s four sons raced out to him, but the steward, in such a crazed panic, drew his sword. “They will not take me or my family!” He cried like a man gone out of his mind. And he was indeed out of his mind. He struck down his children one and a time in the courtyard. They were unarmed and were in such shock that they hardly had time to convince themselves of what was happening before his blade dug into their flesh and they fell, lifeless to the ground. Lastly, his wife came out. A maid was at the doors to the hall and he yelled at her to bring him oil. In a moment she reappeared, terrified and shaken. He ran and took it from her hands, dousing him and his wife over the head. It was then that his wife saw her children and his sword covered in their blood. She screamed in horror and fought to get away from him. He held her arm in his fist and dropped his sword. He brought her to the massive wooden doors and grabbed a lit torch from the sconce on the wall. He yanked her back out to the courtyard.



         A young angel bowed his head slightly and, seeing the princess’ state, spoke solemnly. “Sir, the steward has barricaded himself in the hall and has… uh… disposed of his children,” he said uncomfortably.
         A dark glint showed in the guard’s eyes as he looked back up at the great hall, his mind making a hundred calculations at once. A small smirk came across his features, sending a shiver up the soldier’s spine. Throwing the reins at the man he jumped from the saddle, turning to support the young woman until the angel mounted. “Take her to the courtyard and keep her safe by any means necessary. I’ll find Orin.”
         The young angel settled in his seat and held Cayla upright, raising his hand and signaling to continue the charge to the courtyard. They would try to take the courtyard and hall from the outside. He looked over, to watch the other man sprint down an alley.

         He watched as the armies were pouring into the city like water through a broken dam. He heard the echoing of hooves on the streets near the steps to the courtyard. His wife fell to her knees, her body wracked with sobs and her eyes burning with the oil. The steward screamed into the air. “You will not take me or my family! I will never surrender! You will never take me!”

         A forest angel released an arrow, striking Orin’s shin. The crazed steward dropped the torch, grasping at his leg in pain. The flame caught the edge of his wife’s tunic and set her ablaze. The older woman shrieked in unyielding terror. The corner of the steward's cloak lit up, but horrified, he stripped it off in a panic and escaped the fiery doom in which he had condemned his spouse. Behind him, the blood curdling screams pierced his ears. He ignored them and limped hurriedly to the hall, demanding the doors be opened for him. They creaked open a small bit and slammed shut behind him with a loud bang. Another clanking was heard as they were barred from the inside. A second arrow was fired, yet missed its target, merely grazing the man’s ear as he disappeared behind the massive wooden doors. Cursing under his breath, the angel behind Calya rode onto the scene and turned his attention to the yard. He watched as the burning woman screeched and writhed in a smoking, melting mass on the stone. Then he looked at the four sons laying in puddles of their own blood, killed by the man who should have sacrificed himself for them.
         Calya’s head rolled forward as she lost consciousness. The angel took her in his arms and shot into the sky as more soldiers poured in behind him, filling the yard with horses. Alighting on the roof of the great palace, he cradled the princess in his arms, feeling helpless in the midst of the ongoing battle. Where was Fallon?