An hour later Sergeant Olney Hawser returned with the Speaker Sarbeth and another fifty-seven Massi horseman in tow.
“There’s a trail to the west that leads down out of the hills and into flat farmland,” Olney reported. “It will be easy to circle back around south to the road from there. Once we’re out of the trees visibility is good. The Knights will not be able to surprise us again.”
Gaston nodded and gave orders for the group to beginning preparations to move out. He wanted to be out of the hills and in the lowlands before dark.
“Any sign of na Gall?” He asked Sarbeth, who was dirty and ragged from the ordeal. She shook her head. “I’ve not seen or heard from her or Monde since the…the battle,” she stammered, clearly confused. “They should not have been able to surprise us like that…they may have a Traveler of their own.”
Gaston smiled. “My worries exactly…but nothing we should dwell on, after all we had a Traveler and look what good it did us.”
“Should I try to contact General Bock?” The young Speaker asked, but Gaston shook his head.
“When we are out of the hills,” he answered and noticed that the Speaker edged her horse closer to the Hawser boy. Olney seemed not to notice.
The column got under way within ten minutes but had not gone far before three men rode quickly up from the rear. Captain Gaston turned and pulled out of formation, nodding for Sergeant Hawser and Sarbeth to do likewise. The approaching men were part of the scouting party he had dispatched to eye the Temple Knights and Gaston was hungry for news.
“The Knights have moved off,” said the first scout to reach Gaston. He was covered in scratches and slick with sweat from his hard ride through the thickly forested hills.
“What direction?” Olney asked before Gaston had the chance.
“Back off to the southwest toward Claymont,” the scout answered, pulling his canteen from his saddlebags and taking a quick drink.
“Toff and Scraylan moved off to track them,” another scout informed Gaston.
“Any survivors?” Sarbeth asked in a quiet voice and at first neither man answered. Instead they glared at her as if the entire episode was her fault and then one of them shook his head.
“They’re all dead…hundreds of them,” the man said solemnly, but then smiled. “But we saw just as many dead Knights. They surprised us…but paid a high price for their victory.”
Gaston frowned, watching as the column of men he was leading slowly rode past. “Are you sure?” He asked, thinking that the man must be mistaken, probably deluded, his mind attempting to cast the best light on a very bad situation, but then one of the others spoke up.
“There were many Knights down…maybe not so many as Massi…but many,” the man added. He was older, bearded and had a steady look in his eyes that revealed little pleasure in the facts he was reporting.
Olney smiled, but Gaston only nodded.
“Let’s get out of these damned woods,” he finally said and they joined in with the line of horses heading to the east.
ǂ
Captain Hothgaard did not have a clear picture of the outcome of the battle against the Massi cavalry until they moved out of the hills early in the afternoon. They were positioned just to the north of the town of Claymont.
“Two thousand!” He yelled, though he was attempting to keep his voice down. “We lost two thousand men during a surprise attack against an enemy half our size,” he continued, not truly wanting an answer.
“Yes, but we killed far more. They are no longer strong enough to be of any concern. We would have utterly destroyed them if a Tarina had not appeared in their rear,” Captain Tramm said trying to explain. “Travelers were involved. The Tarina appeared out of nowhere and held the road while the Massi cowards escaped to the south.”
Hothgaard remained silent, thinking. ‘We should leave this land…the locals want it too badly. There were not enough Knights to hold it and Prince Gwaynn was learning the ways of war quickly. If the High King continued to push the issue he might just create an enemy of extreme power, someone to tear apart the very fabric of their society.’
“Any word from Speaker Nadler?” Hothgaard asked, not wanting to think about the possibility that a Tarina of Noble Island truly joined the fight against them. He turned to look at his second in command, who had yet to answer.
Tramm blanched. He was hoping to avoid the subject of Speakers all together, but now that it was out in the open he trudged ahead. “We received word that the Massi infantry was moving out of Manse and toward Claymont, but since then nothing,” he replied. “And we lost Speaker Worlund; a group of Massi fled his way. He took an arrow in the back.”
Hothgaard cursed. “Send out riders to the north and west. We need to find Nadler. I want to speak to the High King.”
“And what of the Massi army?”
“Infantry?” Hothgaard asked with disdain. He now had great respect for Massi cavalry, but no army composed of just infantry could stand against the Knights in a full blown charge. No, as long as the Massi cavalry was contained their army posed no real threat. Infantry could not move as quickly, as hard, or as long. Against cavalry they were all but helpless. They could not engage enemy cavalry at will nor could they disengage from a fight with cavalry, therefore they could not control the battlefield. In war, infantry alone was as vulnerable as a new born babe.
“They’re infantry does not concern me. If we can manage to eliminate the Massi cavalry then the infantry will be at our mercy; we can destroy them at will.”
Tramm frowned. “Yes, but only if they leave the safety of their walls…which they foolishly have. If Prince Gwaynn is with them; if he is captured or killed, then I think the Massi threat will quickly evaporate.”
Captain Hothgaard looked at his fellow commander as if he’d just been slapped across the face. His expression would have been comical had not the situation been so critical.
‘Of course! I’m a fool!’ Hothgaard thought, driving a fist into the top of his thigh. He’d been so focused on wiping out the enemy army he’d completely neglected to recognize the fact that everything hinged on the presence of their leader…the last of the Massi. Kill the young Prince and surely the heart would go out of the enemy.
“Perhaps you should now be leading the Knights,” Hothgaard admitted with a sour grin, as only one confident in their own abilities could.
Tramm smiled. “Perhaps,” he agreed. “Shall I send out men to scout the Massi army?”
Hothgaard nodded. “Yes and send a detachment of a five hundred men back to the top of that high ridge,” he said pointing out the area he wanted covered. “I don’t want what’s left of the Massi cavalry surprising us from the rear.”
“And if we catch the Massi infantry in the open?” Tramm asked.
“Then we attack at once…before the sun sets,” Hothgaard replied, hoping they could be so lucky.