"Alarm! Alarm!"
James awoke to shouting, to a bugle blaring. He shot up in the darkness, Ewa's bare arm unconsciously thrown off of him. Untangling his legs from hers, James swung his feet over onto the floor, standing as the girl began to rouse herself. Her voice was groggy.
"James. What..."
She had to still be half asleep, to use his name. He had made her whisper it as they had made love, the sounds almost more intimate than any touch. He turned, the outline of her soft form sitting up.
"I don't..."
The tent flap shot open, a soldier rushing in with a lantern. James raised his arm to shield his eyes as Ewa pulled the blanket to cover herself. The soldier jerkily bowed.
"Your Grace! They're waking the camp! We're to move out immediately!" Felek ran in, eyes wide. James could see him quickly look away from his sister. He ignored the boy, focusing on the guard.
"What is it?"
"I don't know," the soldier answered. "I..."
Another man entered the tent, a messenger. He dropped to one knee, head bowed.
"Your Grace! Captain Putaski sends word elves have been seen in the western woods. Our pickets have made contact. We're starting to cross the river immediately."
James closed his eyes. He wasn't ready for this. Standing nude before these people was nothing compared to how he felt trying to protect the nation around him. People were going to die... and he could not stop it.
But he would try.
****
Shanna was fighting the armor straps as James tore out of his tent. The damned thing wasn't easy to put on, at least not yet. The yelling and shouting around her wasn't helping, her attention constantly pulled from the task at hand. A stampede of cavalry tore by, heading east, while a company of archers on the other side of the royal wagon ran west. Confusion.
"James!" she yelled. "What...?"
He didn't hear her. The King was on a horse, not even his, and off before she could take a step towards him. Ewa, long hair a mess and dress only half on, was out of the tent a moment later, brother at her side carrying the baby basket given to them just the day before.
Damn it. What the fuck was going on?
****
"Captain!"
James reined in the horse, fighting the unfamiliar animal. Men lined the earthen wall before him, the dirt on this side formed into a fighting ledge. Others massed in formation on the open ground, archers, pikemen. Hussars, winged and un, stood near the open gate. Never had James felt such fear. Felt such tension around him. Almost having to force himself, he dropped from his mount. moving towards a gathering of officers. His guards, Duda and Nowak, fell in behind him.
"Captain Putaski! Report!"
The officers turned as one to him, surprised. Putaski, particularly, seemed shocked the King was here, instead of making his way into the forming line of wagons. He bowed, as did the others.
"Your Grace. You should get to safety..."
"I said I wanted your report, Captain. What's the situation?"
"Your Grace." James had come to realize that expression was not just one of respect. It was also a handy way to respond while not saying anything, giving one time to think of how to deal with the King. The Captain took a moment to do that now. "Your Grace, one of our patrols ran into an Elven unit within the one mile perimeter we had set up. It was larger than a scouting patrol. We have to prepare for the possibility that large units are on the way."
"Fuck."
"Exactly, Your Grace. You should get to safety."
James looked around. Saw every eye not watching the forest on him. He shook his head.
"It will be awhile before it's our turn to cross the bridge. Duda." He turned to his guard. "Send a runner back. Tell Ola to let me know when they're beginning the crossing." He wanted to tell Ewa. Tell her that he would be safe, to stay with the others. That he... loved her. That would not look good, not be kingly. Such messages he had to trust she would read between the lines, that Ola would know what to do, what to say.
"Of course, Your Grace." Duda turned to find a messenger. James looked around, saw a crate. With a somewhat graceful move, he stepped up onto it. The raised eyebrows of the Captain were well worth it. James raised his arms.
"Soldiers of Poland!" His voice was loud. The sounds around him vanished, even the horses seeming to pause in their snorting. The men, almost as one, took a half step towards him. Except those on the wall, as that would have caused them to fall off the ledge. "Men, the ungodly Elves have woken me from my sleep, dragged me away from a beautiful woman. This... is unforgivable!" Laughter broke from the ranks. Good. He pointed over the wall, to the dark forest beyond. "We will hold them. We will destroy all who would dare come between us and our women, our families. We will hold this line for as long as one wagon is on this side of the river. For as long as one child is in danger. Who do we fight for?"
"POLAND!" The roar of the men came loud, strong. He nodded.
"For Poland, I will stay with you men, until I am needed on the far side. For we are as open to attack there as we are here. Long live Poland!
"Hail King James!"
He jumped off the box, not waiting for the chant to die down. Figurehead he may be, but it would be a figurehead that inspired. Maybe, in time, even more. He walked over to the Captain.
"I'll stay here an hour or two."
"Yes... Your Grace."
****
Shanna hated feeling useless.
All was abuzz around her, packing, panicking. She had no job, with regard to the wagon. She had offered to watch the babe, now apparently named Marik, but Ewa had shook her head, not wanting to risk even that separation from the child. Piotr and the other Hussar escorts were nowhere to be seen, off with James she assumed. Should she follow? And then what? She was no warrior. They fought with lances while on horseback, training she was not even close to starting. No, she would be useless, worse that useless. A burden to be protected.
What did that leave?
Shanna looked off towards the river. If she was on her own, she knew what she wanted to do. Take a closer look at that bridge. See how it held up under the stream starting across.
Not that she was paranoid about such things.
****
Large bonfires roared in no man's land, casting long shadows into the night. The field, formerly forest, flickered randomly around the hundreds of tree stumps. James found his mind trying to find the pattern, trying to guess the next burst of flame.
He never could.
The fires were a good and bad idea, in his mind. Yes, they illuminated all the land around the fort. No Elf would creep up on them, no enemy could form in the field under cover of darkness. Yet, if their presence had NOT been located exactly before, it was now. The glow would be seen for miles, probably as far away as that northern town. They could be drawing the very army they sought to escape.
Every choice involved risk.
James stood behind the wall, head looking over at the forest. Waiting. Waiting for what they did not want to see. But, he did. If they came, then they'd know. They could react. Plan. Until that time, until the location and strength of the Elves was discovered, they could be any size, any place.
Better to know.
The solder beside him, an archer not much older than he, seemed nervous. That always unnerved him. There was no reason anyone should ever feel that way around James. Smiling, he cocked his head at the man.
"Feel free to talk, Archer."
He looked startled and guilty. James looked back over the wall, hoping that eased things somewhat. After a moment, the man spoke.
"Your Grace... may I ask you something?"
"Yes. I may not answer, but you may ask."
Another pause. James was starting to feel like it was time to leave. Not out of a sense of danger, but just so he could be among those who knew him. Could talk to him. He felt comfortable with his Hussar escorts. His guards. Ewa. Was that why kings, at times, seemed isolated from their people? It was just a way to keep sane?
"Your Grace, there is a rumor that..."
The archer cut himself off as both he and James saw the same movement at the forest edge. Horses with riders burst out of the tree line into the open, galloping at full speed. As one, the dozen Polish cavalry swung towards the fort.
"Archers!" The cry came from an officer down the line. "Target where they exited! Fire on my command!"
The wall was suddenly full of men, bows raised, strings pulled back taut. James knew he should jump back, provide room for one more archer, but he wanted to see. Had to see. The riders came towards them, heading towards the gate. One was yelling something...
From the same point in the trees, horse-like creatures with elven riders leapt into the open.
James had never seen an elf. From this distance, he still couldn't say he had. They seemed green, but that could just be a trick of the eye. The beasts they rode, though, were furry, like long legged buffalo. Not normal.
"Fire!"
The twang of arrows releasing came from all around him. He could feel the wind as they arched into the air.
"Again!"
The archers brought another arrow up before the elves had even reined in. They were released as the elves looked around, getting their bearings in this new place. They were followed by a third flight of arrows as the first began to fall among the creatures.
James winced. Those... those were living beings being killed. Intelligent creatures, letting out cries of pain. The first wave caught them unaware, striking beast and elf alike. Many were thrown from their mounts, hitting the ground with thuds James thought he could feel even from this distance. The second and third showers of arrows fell on the handful still mounted, reducing them further.
A horn blast. Charging forward, a company of thirty Winged Hussars, lances down.
No creature would be allowed to flee.
James turned from the carnage, the cheers of those around him sounding unreal to his ears. This was the point, wasn't it? Killing the enemy, so they couldn't kill you? Wasn't this what they wanted?
For the first time in a week, he wished he was home.
The riders from the patrol were inside the gate, dismounting. James quickly made his way over, his guards with him as always. He stopped short of the ring of officers, listening.
"We ran into them by that game path, the one running south." Someone handed the soldier a drink, the man gulping it down greedily. "We had seen a patrol earlier, unmounted. Ran them down. No sign of any main body yet. It may be they're camped up for the night, that these are just marking the trails for tomorrow."
"We can't take that chance," one of the officers said. "Get another mounted patrol in there. I want those woods swept clean."
James turned away. He was of no use here. Maybe no use anywhere.
****
Shanna shook her head as the wagons slowly rolled past her onto the bridge.
It did NOT look safe. For one, bridges should be up off the water. High off the water. Not floating on it. And guard rails. A bridge, in her mind, should definitely have guard rails along the side. They didn't even have to be functional: just give her the APPEARANCE of safety. That's all she wanted. For it to look safe.
Things did seem to be moving along well, at least. The "bridge" was as wide as the road, allowing people and wagons to cross side by side. Torches were set at intervals, with luck such that they didn't set the entire thing on fire. That would be bad.
Maybe she could use one of the boats. Four sat on the shore, simple things made from canvas (hopefully waterproof) stretched over a wood frame. Shanna assumed they had been used to get to the far shore during construction. She had been in a canoe before. It wouldn't be hard to just paddle her way across the river. Tiring, but not hard.
Her eyes went upstream. The boat which had been waiting there at sunset was gone, passage down river denied by the bridge. That had to have pissed the crew off, having to row upstream instead of just floating down with the current. Well, they could try again in a day or two. The bridge would be gone by then.
Something flickered on the river.
Shanna took a step forward, hand going to the hilt of her sword. There it was again. A flicker of light in the middle of the river, upstream. Like someone trying to use a lighter, or flint...
Oh. God.
Fire.
A fireship.
That's how you attack the bridge. Fire!
"Fire ship!" She yelled, first in English, then after a curse at her stupidity, in Polish. A soldier just a few feet away rushed to her side. She pointed as another flicker came. "There!"
He let out a curse, turning to yell out his own alarm. Shanna looked around wildly. What could they do? There were archers on the bridge, but arrows would not stop a flaming boat. It wouldn't even be manned, just left to drift into them. The only way to stop the fucker was...
To sink it.
"Follow me!" Shanna ran to one of the boats, grabbing the side, pulling it towards the water. A man was with her almost instantly, grabbing the other side. She saw soldiers rushing towards the shore, the other boats taken up. As her feet hit the river, she jumped in the bow. A paddle lay on the bottom. She grabbed it, at the same time adjusting her sword to keep the sheath from jabbing through the fabric hull. She felt the boat drop completely in the water, other men now piling in. She pointed at the distant dark shape.
"There! Fast!"
She dug her paddle into the water, four others joining to propel them forward. She didn't know what they'd do once they got there. First things first.
"Stroke! Stroke!" The Poles probably had no idea what the hell she was saying, but their rhythm fell in line with hers. The boat shot through the water, distance closing. She could see it now. It was a raft, not a boat. There would be no destroying the hull...
Flame exploded before them.
"GOD!" The entire world before her lit up. Whatever they had piled on top of that thing, it had gone up like lighter fluid. Vaguely, she saw a shape dive off the back, their attacker fleeing now that his job was done. He meant nothing, though. Only the fire mattered. How to stop it?!
Another minute of hard paddling, and the bow hit the raft. The heat was searing, unbearable. Strong male hands grabbed the wooden log running along side them. Tossing the paddle under her seat, Shanna stood in the boat, praying it held her weight. With a heave, she stepped first onto her seat, then onto the raft.
It was square. Logs tied together, forming a floating platform. In the center, burning boxes and logs piled high, black smoke pouring out. The smell was horrid, like burning oil, her eyes watering even as her skin reddened from the heat. There would be no pushing the fire into the river. No. Nor could they steer it towards shore. All they could do was...
Her eyes fell on the ropes binding the deck.
"Cut the ropes!" Unsheathing her sword, she spread her legs, hacking down with all her strength. The blade made it half way through the first rope. She did it again. And again. Men were all around her, chopping, hacking. A canoe pulled up in front of her, a big burly man holding up a huge axe. Shanna paused, grinning at him.
"Oh, I like you! Other side!" She motioned them to the other side of the raft. With a roar of approval, the boat shot forward, the men disembarking as soon as they found open space. With another hack, Shanna found the rope under her completely severed.
Time for the next one.
She ran down the side of the raft. Shanna could see the bridge before them, see the wagons now moving faster. Men with pikes were rushing on, probably hoping to keep the raft away just far enough to be safe. The smoke, though, would panic the animals. And the people. No. It could not be allowed to get closer.
The deck under her feet shifted. Looking down, ignoring a burning ember landing on her arm, she saw a gap. Yes! It WAS shoddily constructed! A rush job, with no understructure! They could do this!
"Hurry! Faster!" Now at the front, she moved to the middle. Maybe they could split it in two, the raft dividing under the fire. Ignoring more sparks, coughing in the acrid smoke, she hacked away at any visible ropes. Once her sword slipped, coming an inch within her left boot. Her only reaction was to spread her stance wider.
****
"Come!" An arm grabbed hers, stopping Shanna mid-swing. She looked up at the soldier, the man barely recognizable as such. He shook her arm again. "Come!"
She felt the raft shift under her. Saw the gaps now widening in the logs. A boat was pulled up before them. Sheathing her sword, she did not so much board as fall into the bow, arms and legs suddenly too tired to work. Strong hands pulled her upright, a canteen of water shoved into her hands. Coughing, she tried to drink. It seemed to just force the ash farther down her throat. A second swallow was better.
There was a crack. A splash. Cries of joy. She looked up.
The raft had split multiple places. Most of the fire had slid off, the shift in weight splitting the raft even further.
They had done it.
They had stopped it.
Shanna felt her shoulders practically collapse. God. She was tired. Her entire body ached. She looked at the hands holding the canteen. Her brown hands were black, black from poisonous ash. Her armor, too, looked black. God, she was a mess.
"Hail the Dark Hussar!"
The shout came from to her right. She looked. A soldier in another boat was looking right at her, arms raised high, hands clenched together. The soldiers with him raised their hands as well, echoing their cheer.
"Hail the Dark Hussar! Hail the Dark Hussar!" The cry was picked up on the bridge, on both shores. Those behind her took up the cry as well. She whirled, looking at the soldiers. Their eyes... it was her. They were cheering for her.
She closed her eyes. How could she sleep with that racket?
****
James watched the last troops march, with almost contemptuous slowness, over the bridge. The morning shadows were getting short, and still nothing serious had come to threaten either end of the bridge. Four times, skirmishes had been fought in the woods. Four times, the elves had been slaughtered with only a few Poles lost.
For the second time, they had bought time for their nation to cross to safety.
James lowered the glass, handing it over to Piotr. He did not need it to see the smoke start to rise from the bridge, see the flames. See yet another bridge burn behind them.
"Your Grace," Piotr said, "we should catch up with the Royal Wagon. We're too close to the rearguard."
"I know. I just wanted to make sure." More smoke from the bridge. "I assume we're stopping early tonight?"
"No. Father said the Captain wants to get as far from the crossing point as possible before nightfall."
"Hmm..." James understood that line of thinking. Approved, even. But, the welfare of the people had to be weighed against security. "Maybe we can up the rations again tonight. Celebrate, reward them for not panicking."
"Maybe celebrate Shanna."
James looked at the blond teen, eyebrow raised. The Lieutenant looked away, embarrassment clear on his face. So, that's how it was. This wasn't just one way. He laughed, shaking his head.
"Dark Hussar Day. Has a ring to it."