With his ragged sorrel coat, he wasn't the prettiest of horses, certainly nothing compared to Symphony, but he was strong and well muscled, with enough inner fires showing in his dark eyes to keep Brynn Dharielle working hard indeed.
Juraviel was back on the road in the morning, leaving Bradwarden and Roger to their work with the stallion. He headed south, shadowing the one road, with a hundred and fifty miles before him. He meant to arrive in Caer Tinella in three days.
Chapter 12
"There they go," Liam O'Blythe remarked as the line of goblins streamed along the ravine floor below them. "Right along yer big friend's course and right on time." "Signal the archers," Prince Midalis instructed. "Let us be done with this."
Liam lifted his spear, tipped with a red flag emblazoned with the black cow: the sign of death. Before the man had gone through three waves of the pennant, the eager archers, set along both sides of the ravine, began firing their missiles down upon the running goblins.
Bruinhelde and his kinsmen had caught this band, one of the few remaining anywhere near Pireth Vanguard, as they camped in the forest. Using Andacanavar as scout and as liaison to Midalis and his men, the Alpinadorans had orchestrated this little ambush.
The archers thinned the goblin line, and those monsters sprinting out in front of the main host soon came upon a series of traps, trip lines, and ankle pits, buried spikes, and one deep trench that bottled up the whole retreat. And that, of course, merely gave the archers more time to let fly their arrows, and into a more concentrated group of targets.
Not to miss any of the fun, Bruinhelde and his horde then appeared at the end of the ravine to Midalis's right. The lead Alpinadorans charged out and fell into their hammer-spins, launching a devastating barrage at the nearest goblins.
And still the archers rained death upon the confused and frightened creatures.
Midalis's cavalry appeared at the left end of the ravine, coming in slowly and in tight ranks, spears leveled before them.
"I should be down with them," the Prince remarked, and, indeed, this was the first action of the season in which he had not been leading the way, There had been no time, for Midalis had been at St. Belfour when the call had come in, and the goblin retreat had been on in full by the time he had even reached this spot on the ridge in the center of the ravine's northern side.
"Bah, but they're not even to see any fightin'," Liam replied, "nothin' more than runnin' down a few strays."
The second Alpinadoran line came charging ahead then, closer to the trailing goblin ranks; and again, the huge northern men spun and launched their chain-handled hammers, smashing the closest ranks.
The goblins didn't even try to assume any defensive formation, just scrambled all over one another, howling and screaming and running out of that death pit in every direction. Those climbing up the north and south walls were met by concentrated arrow volleys that sent them skidding back in their own blood. Those going to the east-Midalis' left-were run down and skewered. Those trying to run back the way they had come, to the west, were met by a third hammer barrage.
It was over in a few minutes, and Prince Midalis hadn't heard even a single human cry out in pain. After all the months of fighting, this skirmish, the battle of the Masur Tierman-dae-so named for the dry bed of the stream that had shaped the ravine-was easily the most one-sided of the entire conflict.
It was no accident, Midalis understood. As his warriors and the Alpinadorans had come to know and better trust each other, as they had come to understand each other's fighting strengths and weaknesses, they had learned to complement each other. And now, with the barbarians growing more accustomed to the Vanguard terrain, the combined force was better shaping the battlefields, picking the fights in which they could inflict the most damage and avoiding those that seemed too risky.
The battle of the Masur Tierman-dae had been a complete success, and Midalis confidently expected many more of the same… if they could find enough goblins left to kill.
Some movement from behind caught their attention, and the pair turned to see Andacanavar striding up the ridge, deftly picking his course among the tangles of brush and roots. Without a word of greeting, he moved to stand beside Midalis and Liam; and though the two Vanguardsmen were mounted, they did not tower over the huge Alpinadoran.
"I came to this place as soon as I heard of the fight," Midalis explained. "And I feared that I missed it-though it has been choreographed perfectly, a complete rout. But I am surprised to see Andacanavar here. I had thought you would be leading the Alpinadoran ranks."
"Bruinhelde's fight, from beginning to end," the ranger answered. "And your archers and horsemen performed their role perfectly. Look down on the ravine with hope, Prince Midalis, for before you looms the last goblin threat to Vanguard." As he finished, hemmed away from the slaughter on the ravine floor to gaze meaningfully at Midalis. When Midalis met his eyes, he understood that Andacanavar referred to much more than regional security.
With this slaughter, the goblins had been eradicated from Vanguard in Honce-the-Bear. But now, Midalis knew, would come the real test. Would the army of Vanguard follow the Alpinadorans north to the southern reaches of their kingdom, to secure those lands, as well?
Midalis wanted to give the ranger his assurances of that cooperation, but he could not; his talks with his countrymen toward just that end had not been met with enthusiasm. He nodded to Andacanavar and remarked, "And all the minions of the dactyl will be on the run before long."
Andacanavar cocked an eyebrow at the obviously evasive remark, but he, too, nodded, apparently accepting the delicacy of the situation.
"Where was Andacanavar, then, to be missin' such a fight as this?" Liam O'Blythe put in. He added, "Does well by Bruinhelde to see him puttin' together such a massacre."
"Business in the north," the ranger answered, and he looked even more intently at the Prince of Vanguard and went on, "arrangements to be made."
Midalis glanced back at Liam and saw the look of concern on the man's face-for he had told Liam of Andacanavar's pending "arrangements." Ironically, it was that expression of doubt, of fear even, that bolstered Midalis in his resolve that this alliance with Bruinhelde's people would not be a passing thing. He turned back to Andacanavar, his face grim, and nodded. " Inform Bruinhelde that I will meet him at the mead hall tomorrow night," he said, "that we might discuss our plans."
The ranger looked back down at the valley, where the last of the goblins were scrambling wildly, only to be run down, skewered by arrows or blasted by Alpinadoran hammers.
"And a fine mead hall celebration it will be," the ranger remarked. He patted Midalis' horse on the neck and trotted back the way he had come, as Midalis and Liam silently watched him go.
When Midalis finally looked away from the ranger, toward his companion, he saw that the distress had not left Liam's expression.
"He moves with the grace of a much smaller man," Midalis remarked, more to break the tension than anything else.
"And quick on his feet, if he went all the way to the mountains and back," Liam agreed, his sharp tone and his reference to the mountains-the expected locale of the ominous arrangements for the blood-brothering Andacanavar had indicated to Midalis-telling the Prince in no uncertain terms that Liam's fears were strongly founded.
"Your concern truly touches me," he said with a chuckle.
Liam didn't smile. "I'm not thrilled with losin' me Prince," he said. "Andacanavar would not have arranged this trial if he believed I could not survive it," Midalis replied, "nor have I even agreed to partake."
"Oh, ye'U go," Liam continued, nodding his head. "I know ye too well to think ye'd refuse any dare."