Shield Knight Calliande's Tale Page 3

  We reached the top of the hill and peered down into the valley.

  The revenants waited.

  The creatures had gone motionless as statues. I noted that there were only twenty or twenty-five of them left. The men of Andomhaim had put up a fierce fight before the cogitaers’ gas had overpowered them. The captured men-at-arms lay bound on the earth, and I spotted Marius’s white robe among them.

  The cogitaers themselves…

  I blinked in surprise.

  I wasn’t sure, but I thought the cogitaers were sleeping.

  At least, it sure looked like it. They lay motionless upon the ground, wrapped in their gray robes, some of the revenants standing guard over them.

  “They’re resting?” said Hadrian, baffled.

  I nodded. “They used a great deal of magic. Perhaps they need to recover their strength before they can travel.”

  Hadrian rubbed his jaw. “Makes sense, now that I think about it. We’re far enough from Dun Calpurnia that no one will come across them by accident, and most of our patrols go north, not south.”

  “But if they’re resting,” I said, “can we go to Dun Calpurnia and have the Dux send men?”

  Hadrian hesitated and then shook his head. “Not enough time. It’s seven miles to Dun Calpurnia from here. By the time we get there, rouse the Dux, and return, the enemy and the prisoners will be long gone.”

  He frowned, tapping the haft of his axe.

  “Then what can we do?” I said.

  “Those men,” said Hadrian. “Do you think you could wake them up?”

  “Certainly,” I said. “Healing them from the effects of the gas would not be hard.”

  Hadrian nodded. “Did you mean what you said about helping them?”

  I met his eyes. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  “Then I have an idea,” said Hadrian.

  Chapter 5: Gambling

  I crept down the slope, trying to be as quiet as I could. I didn’t know if the revenants could hear or not, but I knew that the cogitaers could, and I didn’t want to wake them up. I moved from tree to tree, trying to keep out of sight. The revenants didn’t rush me, so I must have succeeded.

  At last, I settled down behind a pine tree at the base of the hill, only a dozen yards from the unconscious prisoners, and I waited.

  I didn’t have to wait long.

  A rumble of hooves came to my ears, and Sir Hadrian Aurelius galloped into the valley. His horse exploded from the trees, and he hurtled towards the revenants like a thunderbolt. With the paste around its nostrils, the horse couldn’t smell the revenants, and it leaped towards the revenants without fear.

  The axe flashed in Hadrian’s hand, and he beheaded two of the revenants as he passed.

  That sure got their attention.

  The revenants began running after him, and the cogitaers woke up, levitating off the ground. They cast spells, hurling blasts of magical ice at Hadrian, but he avoided them all, and he even managed to behead another revenant in the process.

  I should mention this to you. Hadrian was from Caertigris, and the men of Caertigris are the best horsemen in the realm of Andomhaim. They have to be, since western Caertigris is all flat, grassy plains, and there are some dangerous animals to hunt. So, the revenants chased Hadrian, and the cogitaers started flinging spells at him, but he kept ahead of them all.

  That wouldn’t last long, though, so I hurried forward.

  The revenants and the cogitaers, focused on Hadrian, didn’t notice me.

  I ran to Marius first, dropped to my knees next to him, and cast the healing spell. Healing the effects of the sleeping gas didn’t hurt, not really. It just made me feel woozy and unfocused for a few heartbeats like I had drunk too much wine.

  But it worked. Marius blinked, sat up, looked around in confusion, and started to draw breath to ask a question.

  I realized that if he was too loud, that could be disastrous, so I clapped a hand over his mouth before he could speak. His beard felt wiry and bristly beneath my fingers. I wondered if it made his face and neck itchy. Strange the things you sometimes wonder in the middle of a fight, but you’ve learned this by now.

  “We need to wake the others up,” I whispered into his ear. “Hadrian can’t distract the cogitaers for long.”

  My old teacher nodded. He had been in many fights, and he knew what to do.

  “I’ll start on that side,” he whispered, “and you take that one.”

  We set to work, waking up the men-at-arms and cutting their bonds. They, too, were veterans, and they knew what to do. The cogitaers hadn’t yet had time to take their weapons, so the men drew their swords and rushed into the fray.

  But by then the cogitaers had recovered from their shock, and they began casting spells. They unleashed magical ice and lightning, striking down several men-at-arms with volleys of killing force. If we didn’t stop them now, they might win the fight.

  “Hadrian!” I shouted.

  He looked up from the revenant he had just beheaded and met my eyes across the battlefield. I pointed at the cogitaers, and Hadrian nodded and spurred his horse at them. The cogitaers whirled towards him, casting spells, and I drew on every bit of magic I could muster, white fire blazing around my fingers.

  I cast the warding spell, and a shell of translucent white light appeared around Hadrian. And his horse, too. One of the most effective tactics for fighting a mounted knight is to kill his horse, and the cogitaers knew that. But warding both Hadrian and that massive horse at the same time was difficult, and my body started to shake with the effort of maintaining the spell.

  Fortunately, I didn’t have to hold it for long. Like I said, Sir Hadrian Aurelius was a superb horseman.

  He crashed his horse into the first cogitaer. The slender creature went down, and I saw its skull shatter beneath a steel-shod hoof. The second cogitaer threw a bolt of ice at Hadrian, and I felt the impact against my warding spell, but I held the magic in place.

  His axe blurred around and took off the second cogitaer’s head.

  The final cogitaer began a spell, and Hadrian’s horse reared up, its hooves lashing at the air like clubs. A hoof caught the cogitaer in the chest, and the creature jerked back, stunned.

  Hadrian’s axe came down and ended the battle.

  Chapter 6: Duty

  So that, Kalussa, was the first time I ever healed someone on a battlefield.

  My first battle, too, come to think of it.

  What happened next? Well, we returned to Dun Calpurnia. Marius and I healed those men-at-arms who could be saved, and we rode to the town and the army’s camp. The Dux of Caerdracon was alarmed to learn that revenants had gotten past the camp, so he sent out patrols. I rode with some of them, and I soon learned far more about battle than I ever wanted.

  Oh, I see. You’re asking if I ever saw Sir Hadrian again. The dashing knight and the inexperienced young Magistria, is that it?

  Life is never that romantic.

  Oh, very well. If you must know, Hadrian did approach me, once.

  It was the day after the fight with the cogitaers. I was walking the walls of the town, getting a look at the countryside. There were guards on the walls, and I was a little unsettled at how they all bowed when I passed. The Magistri are both respected and feared in Andomhaim. Also, the only thing that travels faster than dysentery in an army is gossip, and so news of my part in the skirmish had spread. And, no doubt, been exaggerated.

  But it was a deserted stretch of the wall where I found Hadrian.

  “Sir Hadrian,” I said.

  “Magistria,” he replied.

  “How’s your side?” I said.

  “An impressive scar, as you said would happen.” Hadrian patted his side, his armor clanking. “But there is no pain. Without your magic, a wound like that would have taken months of recovery. If I even survived it at all.”

  “I am glad,” I said.

  He hesitated as if debating something with himself, and then nodded.

  “Th
e Dux is giving a dinner tonight for his nobles and knights to celebrate the start of the Advent season,” said Hadrian. “I would like you to accompany me if you are willing.”

  I blinked, baffled. “Why?”

  “It is an informal affair,” said Hadrian. “But the food is good, and…I would enjoy your company.”

  I blinked a couple of more times, and then my eyes went wide. “Oh. I…am not sure that would be appropriate.”

  “Nor would I wish to do anything inappropriate,” said Hadrian. I was pretty sure that he was mostly telling the truth. “I am not certain what the custom is among the commoners of Andomhaim, to be honest. But among the nobles, if a man sees a woman he has come to, ah, admire, he can invite her to accompany him to dinners and tournaments and other such events. Usually, such things have to be arranged, but you have no family, and I am the youngest son, so my father doesn’t care much what I do.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Then…you want to pay court to me?”

  “Yes,” said Hadrian.

  I hesitated. He was handsome, in a sort of rough way. He wasn’t a coward, I had seen that much.

  But, no. That wasn’t what I was here to do.

  “I am sorry, Sir Hadrian,” I said. “Maybe in another time and place, I would like that. But I am a Magistria. I have my duty, and I must attend to that.”

  I was afraid he would get angry. Or that he would mock me, or bluster. Instead, he only studied me for a moment, and then nodded. He was a brave man, and he wasn’t a fool.

  “Is that all you want, Magistria?” said Hadrian.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Well.” Hadrian offered a polite bow. “Perhaps you shall have the opportunity to heal me again one day.”

  I laughed. “For your sake, I hope not.”

  Chapter 7: Choices

  Calliande fell silent, looking over the rolling plains and the rocky hills of northern Owyllain.

  That battle felt like it had been a long, long time ago. Of course, it had really been long ago. Nearly two and a half centuries. Hadrian Aurelius had been in his grave for as almost long, as had everyone she had met and known at Dun Calpurnia.

  A deep wave of melancholy rolled through her.

  “Then,” said Kalussa, her tone thoughtful. “You were…letting him down gently, was that it?”

  “Hmm?” said Calliande, shaken out of her reverie.

  “You didn’t want to hurt his feelings,” said Kalussa.

  “No,” said Calliande. “No, I meant it.”

  Kalussa looked startled. “Truly?”

  “I didn’t have any interest in a husband or children,” said Calliande. “I had my duty. I was there to heal wounds and help the army defeat the Frostborn. In time, I became the Keeper’s apprentice, and then the new Keeper. My duties expanded, and my duty was all I ever thought of doing.”

  They walked in silence for a while.

  “Sir Hadrian,” said Kalussa. “What happened to him?”

  “Oh, he survived the war,” said Calliande. “Sadly, his elder brothers did not. So, he became the new Dux of Caertigris, much to his surprise. He married soon after that, and I think his wife was pregnant with their first child when I went into the long sleep below the Tower of Vigilance.”

  “Can I ask something?” said Kalussa. “It might be a…little strange.”

  “Since I am teaching you, I suppose I should insist that you ask,” said Calliande.

  “You said you were focused on your duty,” said Kalussa. “That it was all you ever thought of doing. So…why did you marry Lord Ridmark?”

  Calliande said nothing.

  “I am glad you did,” said Kalussa, hastily. “If you hadn’t, Archaelon would have killed me. But…I wonder what changed your mind.”

  What could Calliande tell her? She could not fit ten years of history into a single answer. Calliande had been devoted to her duty as Keeper, so devoted that she had sealed herself below the Tower of Vigilance for two and a half centuries. And when she had awakened, she had been powerless and lost, and if not for Ridmark, she would have failed in her duty and died on that day.

  If not for Ridmark…

  He had never given up, even when he had wanted to die. If not for him, she would have failed. If not for him, she would have died a hundred times over. If not for him, she would not have her sons, she would not have Gareth and Joachim. Calliande had been infatuated before, but she had only fallen in love once in her life, and she had never fallen out of it.

  “What changed my mind?” said Calliande at last. “Ridmark did.”

  Kalussa snorted. “Ah. Speaking of Lord Ridmark, I think he has returned.”

  Calliande looked to the west and saw Ridmark and Third approaching, and she headed towards them. Third looked as she always did, face pale and expressionless beneath her dark hair, her short swords resting in their scabbards upon her belt.

  Calliande’s eyes settled on Ridmark, on the hard face with the deepening lines and the brand of the broken sword, the close-cropped black hair turning gray at the temples, the confident, fluid way he moved.

  “Nothing of interest,” said Ridmark as she approached. “We found the tracks the Bronze Dead left, but they headed straight to Trojas. We won’t…”

  She smiled at him, wrapped her arms around him, gave him a kiss, and then pressed her head against his shoulder.

  “What’s this?” said Ridmark, though he hugged her back, and she heard the surprised smile in his voice.

  “No reason,” said Calliande. “I’m just glad to see you.”

  THE END

  Thank you for reading SHIELD KNIGHT: CALLIANDE'S TALE.

  The adventures of Ridmark and Calliande continue in SEVENFOLD SWORD: CHAMPION.

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