The Shadow Throne (Ascendance 3)

I stood and searched for any Carthyans around me. “Help me!” I yelled. “This man needs help!”

There was no immediate response, but I kept yelling, desperate for help. I tried again to move Mott and successfully dragged him a little ways, but that was surely making his wounds worse. I’d never be able to do this alone.

I placed my hands under his arms to try pulling him again, but this time I felt a change in his weight. It took me a minute to recognize the person who was lifting his legs, but then I caught a glimpse of bright red hair beneath an Avenian helmet and remembered. It was Mavis, who had fallen into the hunter’s trap.

There were no words between us. All I cared about then was that Mott was dying before my eyes and my armies were falling around me. This was Avenia’s fault, and whether Mavis had chosen to fight or not, he was with them. He was hardly my friend. But I looked at him as we struggled to carry Mott to his horse. His mouth was turned in a grim smile and his eyes were full of sympathy. Mavis wasn’t my enemy either.

Finally, we managed to hoist Mott into his saddle. I gave Mavis a quick nod of thanks, then got onto my horse and steered Mott around the fighting to return to the camp. Tobias had probably left, but if there was still a wagon, Mott could be taken to wherever he was going.

So it was a surprise to see that the wagon Tobias and Amarinda should have taken was still in its place. A part of me hoped they had used horses instead and were far from this camp by now. But if they did, then there was no chance left for Mott.

With almost the same speed of Falstan Lake returning to its bed, the camp was filling with both Carthyan and Avenian soldiers. Staying just ahead of the fighting, I led Mott to the wagon and this time it took the help of two of my soldiers to get him safely inside. One of them commented that Mott’s body was total deadweight, and with a nasty glare I told him to hush. Mott was still alive and I didn’t want him to hear any such talk. Even so, it was probably already too late. I asked one man to stay inside the wagon with Mott and do whatever was necessary to keep him alive until I could find help. Then I directed the other soldier to drive the wagon past a wide field on the outskirts of the camp and into the dense forest. I didn’t think Avenia would follow them there. Night was falling and they would want to regroup.

Once I saw him safely away from the worst of it, I returned to the battle, fighting where I could while trying to absorb the magnitude of the destruction we faced. For every Carthyan still holding a weapon, I saw ten Avenians equally armed. The air was filled with cries of pain and shouts of anger. And everywhere there was death and suffering, all of it beyond my control. I had never wanted war, and now that I was a part of it, what I saw was worse than anything I could have imagined. I was forced to ask myself whether the freedom of Carthya was worth all of this.

A lieutenant found me there and said he had just received a small group of our men who had escaped from a battle farther north.

“What do you mean ‘escaped’?” I asked.

His eyes darted, and I wondered if they had deserted their countrymen. The punishment for that was severe and I didn’t have the heart to enforce it now. But as it turned out, his news was worse.

“My king, the battle did not go well. They are the few who survived.”

I hardly dared ask. “Roden?”

“He was taken prisoner. My lord, we will fight as long as you command it, but things are not good.”

I scuffed my boot against the dirt, and then looked back at him. “Lieutenant, you will order the immediate retreat of our men into the forest. Get them as deep as they must go to be safe.”

He bowed. “Yes, my king.”

As he began rounding up our men to pull them away, I continued looking for any signs of Tobias and Amarinda.

Then, with more horror than I could absorb, I realized where they must be: behind a woodpile at the edge of camp. I couldn’t see them, but Fink was standing in front of the pile, his sword so heavy that he could barely hold it with both hands. Fink was trying to protect them.

I kicked at the horse beneath me, urging him toward the woodpile. Several of the Avenians followed, swarming me like rabid dogs. But I had no time for them, and dispatched them as fiercely and quickly as possible.

However, another Avenian on a courser horse near the woodpile had spotted Fink, who yelled in terror. From behind the woodpile, Tobias leapt forward. He grabbed the sword from Fink’s hands and pushed him aside.

Tobias swung wildly at the soldier, who quickly knocked him to the ground. The Avenian then turned his sights on Amarinda, who had also emerged. She started to run and the soldier kicked at his horse to follow, but Fink crossed between her and the horse, the sword in his hands again. He was so short that his sword came at the soldier at a sharp angle. It pierced the man’s armor beneath his knee and the man cried as loudly as Fink had just yelled. He collapsed forward, blood spilling from the wound.

When Fink saw me coming, he said, “I did that! Me!”

“You acted as a knight should,” I said. When Tobias and Amarinda were closer, I turned to them. “You were supposed to leave.”

“We tried,” Tobias said. “But they came too fast.”

I slid to the ground and gave Tobias the reins for my horse and the fallen soldier’s as well. “Get into the forest. We’ll gather there.”

“But I already sent the wounded on ahead.”

“There is nothing ahead, Tobias! Look around us!” Then I lowered my voice. “There will be more wounded in the forest. Mott is amongst them.”

That was all Tobias needed to hear. Once they were mounted on horses, Fink led the way. Tobias and Amarinda pushed him from behind, hurrying him into the cover of the woods.

By that time, the battlefield had mostly emptied of Carthyans. I wanted to stay and fight, but nothing I did at that point would end in any way other than with my death.

I never run.