“The Empress attacked,” Davydd picked up, eyes gleaming even in the gathering dark, “and broke through the defenses of the Stand. But Aemon, carrying the first valerium sword, met the Tyrant in open battle, and drove her from the field. Her forces were crushed—well, they fell back, but I like the way ‘crushed’ sounds—and as she turned to tuck tail and run, she lifted a hand to the black clouds in the sky, cried out a single word, and a bolt of lightning sliced down and pierced Aemon straight through the heart. Shadow-cursed, cowardly bitch.”
The Prince felt a flare of anger at the young man’s blasphemy, before he remembered all that had happened. It was difficult to undo a lifetime of training, responding to any slight against the Empress as a grave insult.
“In their outrage,” Tomaz said, gently overriding Davydd’s somewhat overly enthused retelling, “the Kindred followed the Empress’ army for days, pushing them back to the Pass of Roarke, but eventually they could pursue them no more and they were forced to set guards at the Pass and wait in defense. Aemon was buried where he had been struck down, and a temple was raised over him. His sword, fallen from his hand, could not be touched. Those who tried were hurtled backward by an unseen force. But the fortress had stood, and so had the Kindred. It was renamed Aemon’s Stand.”
Silence fell, and the Prince was swept up in his own musings as to what this meant about the history of the Empire. Could there be other histories that had been tampered with? Prophecies even? The Prince of the Veil.…
Not too much later they reached the ambush site, just as the sun had well and truly set, leaving them in darkness aside from torches that had been lit upand down the column of soldiers. A mist had descended along with the darkness, covering everything with a fine layer of dew and drastically reducing visibility.
A mountain, almost sheer, seemed to leap out at them. There was a single path that led up to the top, twisting through several precipitous switchbacks before reaching the top. The side facing them had been completely cleared of trees, and it was relatively easy to see to summit, upon which was located what looked like a castle.
“Reinforcements?” the Prince asked hopefully. The castle had torchlight situated on the battlements and looked to be heavily manned.
“It’s an illusion,” Davydd drawled at him. “Meant to make little princelings like you wet themselves at the idea of a fully armed castle on top of an impregnable hill.”
“Long ago deserted,” Leah explained, “which makes it perfect for us. From this side it looks almost new, but the rest of it is a ruin and has been for some time. It’s impossible to keep it manned and maintained. But the Army of Roarke will think that it’s an actual castle and have to bring most of their force to bear before attacking, which gives us the perfect opportunity to hit them hard and fast in the night while they prepare.”
“It’s not going to be that simple,” the Prince tried to explain, but he was cut off.
“The same strategy has worked many times before,” Davydd said.
“I don’t doubt it, which is why Ramael will probably come up with something—”
“The Ox Lord isn’t the smartest sheep in the pen,” Lorna said.
“Yes,” the Prince responded testily, “but I know him, and I don’t think he’ll fall for it!”
He said this louder than he had intended, and a few soldiers riding nearby looked at him askance. The Prince cleared his throat and continued, cheeks warm.
“What I’m saying is he will know we’re at the top because of the tracking spell, and anyone with half of the military training I have would know this is the perfect spot for an ambush. Ramael isn’t known for his intelligence, but he is one of the Children. He’s had over a hundred years of battlefield experience, with all the resources of the Guardians and their vast knowledge of war.”
Davydd rolled his eyes as if to say, “what would you know?” and rode on ahead of them. Lorna followed.
“It’s a good plan, princeling,” Tomaz rumbled as quietly as was possible for him. “Even a Blade Master would be cautious here. I know the Training as well as you do: you bring the full force to bear before advancing on a possibly fortified position, and you never do it at night. And with a force this large, they won’t be expecting an ambush to be effective. We’ll catch them off guard and teach them otherwise.”
The Prince’s gut still told him that it wouldn’t be so simple, but he had to admit that it seemed like a good plan. It played on the enemy’s strategy, which was a safe bet considering the standardization of the Empire’s forces. He put his doubts aside for the time being.
After a few muted orders from Captain Autmaran, passed along down the column of riders, the force of Kindred arranged themselves along the mountain pass, in positions in the trees. The Prince was amazed at how well and quickly they managed it; one minute they were there, the next the narrow path seemed to be nothing more than a forested ravine.
And just in time, the Prince thought to himself. The Prince of Oxen and his army were no more than a mile away, and already he could feel the earth rumbling underfoot.
“I suppose I don’t need to ask how close he is,” Leah said breathlessly to the Prince as they made their trek up the road to the castle situated on the hill, leading their horses; a grunt of amusement from her other side told him that Tomaz agreed.
The illusion was certainly a good one: even when they were no more than fifty feet away from the castle’s large exterior wall, the Prince thought it looked real. True, fallen into disrepair, but certainly whole. But once the five of them crossed under the wall’s large gate, the Prince could clearly see what the Exile girl had been talking about: this wall, the one that faced the road and the sheer mountainside, was the only one standing. The other walls and, indeed, most of the interior structure of the castle, was scattered and strewn about the ground, looking like so many children’s building blocks toppled and thrown about in a tantrum.
The wall had a second, smaller gate that was hidden from view, what the Prince thought had likely been a sally port. The five of them made their way in that direction, Davydd telling them Autmaran had asked them to take position on the outer side of the wall so that they could have a view of the battle below and be in position for a counter-offensive should the need arise to cover a retreat. They crossed through the gate in single file, having tied their horses in the Kindred’s makeshift stable inside the decrepit castle’s walls. There were another few dozen Kindred soldiers already in place there, in addition to the several score inside the castle itself.
The clouds were out, and the moon was completely concealed, and the night seemed like a yawning abyss. The Kindred soldiers had all been told to extinguish their torches once they were in place, aside from those set inside the castle. On this side of the wall, it was dark enough that they could see light coming through the hills, snaking toward them.
The Prince shivered and rubbed his arms.
“I don’t like knowing I’m a sitting target,” he growled to Leah.
“Like it or not, we’re the bait, princeling,” she snapped back. “We’re still their only lead in uncharted territory, and if we don’t stay up here then they’ll know, or at least suspect, some kind of trickery is coming their way.”
“I don’t know what you two are complaining about,” Davyddbroke in. “Any day I have an excuse to kill Imperials is a good day to me.”
“Each and every one of those men have lives,” the Prince started hotly, the memories of the men he’d killed floating up in the back of his mind as they always seemed to do before he was about to commit violence.
