A really long chapter that was fun to write: Dawn.

Stone

8.

Everything seemed to have gone terribly, Sir Mowath thought as he sat in his camp. Last night a rider from Stone’s troop had come by telling them that the small group of horse had completely obliterated nearly 2000 Konans. The man was now under guard in the back of the camp, indignant that he was not able to ride back to the horsemen. The foot soldiers had resumed their march in the morning, and were only a few hours from the battlefield.

But Mowath had decided to set up a day camp on a ridge within sight of the next round of fighting, which was just underway. He could tell that his soldiers were anxious to get into the action, but the knight held them back. Surely the few horsemen would not be able to defeat 3000 Konan troops. His entire plan depended on the giant being killed in the battle, and then the Konans would mop up the remaining horsemen, who were fighting on horseback, for goodness sakes. But instead Stone continued to decimate the Konans, and his men were holding their own, in spite of being massively outnumbered. Soon the battle was over, and Mowath soon saw the big horse carrying the bigger man galloping towards him. This could get sticky.

“Mowath,” Stone shouted. “Why are you camped here? We could have used a bit of support out there. I lost 12 men in this battle, and another 34 wounded.”

“You were doing quite well out there. We would have stepped in if you were in any danger,” the knight lied. “This horse fighting method you came up with seems quite effective. We must discuss it at the castle. I am heading back there now. I want you to take control of both our armies and head back when you are done cleaning up.”

“You need to be aware that your spies are less than efficient,” Stone said. “They said there would only be 300 advance troops, but it turned out to be near 2000. We were lucky to be able to take them out.”

“Well, the one thing good about that is that there will be more booty,” Mowath said. “There must be several thousand horses running about without riders. And see if the Konans left their baggage trains when they ran. They usually do. There could be a huge amount of goods in them.”

Thus Mowath was back in the castle when Stone was busy organizing men and chasing down booty. The sergeants did most of the former, and secured the several baggage trains, but it was Stone who led most of the collecting of the horses. Doug was able to corral the loose horses, although many of them were tethered and easily collected by the horsemen that accompanied Stone. In fact, when they tallied up their take there were 2000 horse collected, more than enough that each man in the combined armies had a mount to return on. There were also 43 wagons from the Konan baggage trains, containing goods worth taking back.

The result was that the army didn’t get back to Sarn until sunset. When Stone appeared at the stables to get Doug settled, he was told that Mowath had said he was to report to his office immediately. Stone left as soon as he saw that his horse was being tended to among the many horses in the full stable.

He found Mowath at the same desk as his first visit to the castle, with a bottle of steaming choc, which he was sipping. He poured a second glass, and invited Stone to drink. Stone found the choc a bit more bitter than usual, but still refreshing after his long day. He and Mowath went over what had happened at the two battles, so that they would be in agreement when reporting to the Duke.

After about a half hour, and a second glass of choc, Stone began to feel tired. It had been a long day after a short night, so he didn’t think much of it, until he noticed his vision was doubled. That was when he realized that he had been drugged. He went to stand up, and found his legs didn’t work, and fell to the floor.

“Mitchell, get in here, and bring the men,” Mowath yelled and soon the captain appeared with six soldiers. “That bugger had enough einilweed to kill three men. But he seems to have finally caved.”

Stone reached for his sword, and found he could not even grab it, let alone pull it out. Captain Mitchell pulled it free, and laid it on Mowath’s table. The men had a device much like a wheelbarrow, but larger and Stone was strapped to it, unable to move enough to fight. Two men took the arms of the wheelbarrow, and started to wheel it down the hall as the other four stood guard on the sides with bared blades and Mitchell supervising.

They were taken down several levels to the dungeons, and Stone was dumped to the floor in a cell. He hadn’t lost consciousness. His mind seemed to work well, but his speech was slow and slurred, and he had trouble making any muscles work. A young smith Stone had seen earlier in the stables appeared, and shackles were placed on his wrists and ankles, joined by a thick chain. After putting the shackles on his wrists, the smith twisted the chain, and stared at it. Stone looked down, and saw there was a flaw in the metal. He looked up, and the smith just smiled, and turned the chain back around so the flaw was hidden.

Stone spent the night in the cell. No food was brought. He started to regain control over his body after about four hours, and two hours later was back to normal. He tried to force the chains on his wrists apart, but even with the flawed metal he was unable to separate the chains. There were no windows in the cell, but eventually Captain Mitchell appeared with the same six men. There was no wheelbarrow this time. He was hoisted to his feet, and led by the six men with drawn swords, which they used to poke him several times, breaking skin and causing small wounds. He was unable to move fast, due to the chain on his ankle, so the nearby smith was made to remove those fetters, leaving him only bound at the wrists. As they passed windows in the castle, it was apparent that it was mid-morning. Stone saw Arthur fly past at one point. He hoped that Rayla wouldn’t try to storm the castle on her own to free him.

When they arrived again at Sir Mowath’s desk, he merely led the men into the Duke’s chamber. “The prisoner has arrived, Your Grace,” Mowath said.

“I must object to this treatment, Your Grace,” Stone shouted. “I conquered your enemies and this is how I am repaid.”

“Sir Mowath has told me of your cowardly activities,” the Duke said. “You fled the scene of the battle, and he had to take over and save my Duchy.”

Stone then explained exactly what had happened, with Mowath interrupting by saying “Lies, lies,” to everything. The Duke apparently believed Mowath’s fanciful tales and confirmed them mainly by saying that Stone had never left his horse to fight. When Stone admitted he had not dismounted, but fought from horseback, the Duke laughed.

“You can’t fight from a horse, any six-year-old serving boy knows that,” the Duke said. “You have been accused of cowardice and will pay for it. Bring forth the executioner.”

Stone saw a big, well-muscled man with an axe appear. The blade was nearly 18 inches across in a frightful curve. His six captors prodded him again with their swords, forcing him to kneel at a wooden block with a curve for his neck.

The executioner took position, and started to swing his great axe. The guards backed off, not wanting to be splattered. Suddenly Stone went into battle mode, and a solution appeared for him. As the great axe descended slowly, Stone put his hands behind his head, with the chain crossing his neck. It was this that the axe hit, and bounced off, with the blade jumping back at the axeman. But the axe had hit the flaw in the chain, and it split. Stone stood up. The guards came at him, but now his hands were free. There was about a foot of chain still attached to each of his wrists, and he found they made a formidable weapon. He slashed them out at the faces of the men attacking him, and one or two at a time they went crumbling to the floor with broken faces.

Soon there was only Stone, Mitchell, Mowath and the Duke standing. Stone saw his sword was now sitting on the Duke’s table, so he darted over and grabbed it.

“Get him, Mitch,” Mowath shouted, too afraid to draw his own sword. The Captain approached, and a swat with the flat of Pate knocked him sliding across the room. Mowath turned and ran, leaving the Duke standing in fear. A spot of warm liquid appear between his legs and ran down to the floor.

“This is a sword of truth,” Stone said. “But it requires blood to work.” With that he made a shallow slit from the right cheek of the Duke, across to his chin. The sword and the wound made the Duke realize that it was Stone’s story of the battle that was true, not Mowath’s. But the Duke didn’t realize that right away. He was too busy screaming: as though the wound had been deeper than the mere scratch. It would require stitches, and would leave a lifelong scar, but it was by no means as serious as the Duke’s screams hinted.

Stone went out of the door, knocking guards left and right with the flat of his sword. Soon he was far enough away that the guards went to the Duke’s aid rather than coming after him. He headed to the stables. He found the smith there standing next to a loaded wagon and four horses.

“I must leave,” the smith said. “They will blame me and will kill me and my family.” I have sent a messenger to get them to come to the road and join me.

“Come with me,” Stone said. “My town has a smith, but there will be work for two.”

Just then there was a smashing sound coming from the nearby stable. Doug appeared, towing a stable door attached to a rope behind him. Pate sliced the rope, dropping the door, and Stone slid onto Doug bareback. They led the smith and his wagon out, and soon were in the inner bailey. Men were trying to lower the portcullis and close the door, but arrows from outside were picking them off as they tried to secure the exit. Doug led the wagon through, picking his way through the injured men, most of who had arrows sticking from their arms or legs.

Rayla was sitting upon Beauty, and Doug moved over to nuzzle the other horse. “Thanks for the help, dear,” Stone told the girl. The two pack horses were off to the side.

“I’ve spent the last two days on that roof,” she pointed. “Hoping to get a clear shot through the windows at that bastard that took you. Arthur told me what had happened. He didn’t see how you escaped, though. That should make a good story for the campfire tonight.”

“It was thanks to this one,” Stone gestured to the smith. “We need to pick up his family. Where will they be,” he asked the man.”

“On the northern road out of the city,” he said. “But I fear our freedom will be short lived. Mowath will have an army after us before we get 10 miles. Look, there is my family.”

Stone saw them. A woman and five children ranged from a teenage boy to a toddler of about three years, and three other adults. The three largest children, and their mother, each carried a bag. They piled into the wagon and the mother’s bag clanked as she tossed it into the wagon. Clearly it contained her treasured pots and pans. Bags carried by the children smelled as though they might contain food. Soon all were on the wagon, and the woman was beside her husband, berating him.

“What have you done, Harrold,” she said. “A good job at the castle and then a messenger says you are fleeing. What happened?”

“Peace, Sybil,” he said. “The big man on the big horse is a hero. Soldiers coming back from the battle told me how he led them into destroying the Konan army and preserving Sarn. Then that rat Mowath made me put him into chains. He was drugged, but I used a flawed chain.”

“And thus he saved my life,” Stone added in.

“But there will be an army after us, won’t there?” Sybil said.

“Yes, but we have an army of our own,” Rayla told the woman. “Stone will stop them, and if needed I will help. I am pretty handy with this bow. But who are these other three.”

“Oh they are only slaves, Sybil said derisively. “They can walk.” The three each had bags, which they were allowed to deposit on the wagon.”

“They are slaves no more. Where we are going there are no slaves. If you wish, you can hire them as servants. But the are free as off now.”

“You cannot do that,” screeched Sybil. “They are our property. We paid for them.”

“You cannot own a person in my world,” Stone said sternly. “If you would like to complain to the Duke, and army should be coming this way in a short time. I would like to get moving soon though.”

“Is there enough work where you are taking us to allow us to afford servants,” the smith said as the wagon started rolling again, with the three walking alongside.

“There should be,” Stone said. “Of course you could work alone, but you will be more productive with knowledgeable servants.”

“Yes,” the smith agreed. “They know a lot about smithing. Both will be journeymen, not apprentices. Is 12 silver a week fair?”

One man nodded, but the other shook his head. “Maia is pregnant, although it doesn’t show yet. I will want to have my own household. Twelve would be fair with room and board, but I don’t want that. How about 20 silver a week, six 12 hour days a week.”

Sybil screeched again. “Twenty? You bankrupt us. And for so few hours. There are 16 hours of daylight in the summer. I suppose your woman will want pay too? I’ll not pay her more that 2 silvers a week, especially when she is with child.”

“Am I truly free, milord,” the woman said.

“Aye,” Stone replied. “You can choose to work where you will. There will be other positions open in the community we are to join. And call me Captain. I am nobody’s lord.”

The former slave turned to her ex-mistress and nearly spat out the words: “I will never work for you again. I will find other work, even if it is cleaning cesspits.”

“Hrumph,” Sybil said. “Cheeky lot.”

Now Rayla got into the argument. “And I want her on the wagon. It is not proper that a pregnant woman should walk. There is room for three on the front seat. Have your daughter move to the back with the other children.”

“I will not sit next to a slave,” Sybil shrieked.

“Feel free to get down and walk then,” Stone said. “And remember, there are no slaves here.”

The wagon stopped again, and Tiress climbed aboard. Her husband Dranson was allowed to ride Glory, the pack horse, who had no pack. The other slave, Kinderson was allowed to ride in the back of the wagon. Sybil pushed in as close to her husband as possible, while Tiress sat tightly against far edge of the wagon seat, leaving nearly a foot of space between the two.

Stone looked at the pair as the wagon started forward again. He wondered if the pair would cause trouble later in the trip north.

It was closer to 12 miles when the chase caught up with them. Stone ordered the smith to keep going, and Doug stopped in the middle of the road. Rayla led Beauty off to the side.

The chase turned out to be 250 men, and they formed a great semicircle around Doug and Stone, with Mowath and Mitchell in the front. Stone noticed that many of the soldiers had saddles with stirrups, and recognized more than a few from his cavalry troop.

“You are surrounded,” Mowath shouted as he and Mitchell dismounted, drawing swords. “Surrender peacefully and we will take you back alive.”

“For some reason I don’t trust you,” Stone replied. “And I admit to not having enjoyed my last stay in your dungeon. I think it is time we end this.”

With that Doug leapt forward, knocking Mitchell aside. He drew Pate, and swung down on Mowath. The sword sliced through his sword, held up in a feeble defense. It then continued its path, hitting the man on the neck and continuing through his body to come out beneath his arm. Then, to placate Pate, he made another slice before the remaining torso fell, slicing through it as well.

“Men, dismount and att…” Captain Mitchell started, but an arrow through the cheek and out the other side silenced his command. A few men dismounted, and drew swords, but most stayed on their mounts, confused and leaderless. None came at Stone, to his pleasure.

“You five,” he told the dismounted men. “Find a bedroll or something to wrap up what is left of your leader. Take him back to the castle and present him to the Duke. As for your Captain, put him on his horse. It’s going to hurt a ton taking that arrow out. You might want to wait until a healer is handy.”

“As for the rest of you, I know many of you, and fought with some.” Stone said. “This is where you declare your loyalty: to the Duke, or to me. I feel I will need a bit of an army soon, and any who wish to join me may. Just move over to that side. The rest of you may accompany your leaders back to Sarn.”

All 75 of the men with stirrups joined, as well as a dozen or so of the others. The rest turned and followed the wounded Mitchell and the horse that had the remains of Mowath roped to it.

Stone turned to the men. “Wait here for a few seconds, and then walk after me. I want to talk to those on the wagon before they see you as an army about to attack them.”

Doug soon galloped up after the wagon, where Sybil was looking back frightfully as Rayla and Stone quickly caught up.

“There are so many left,” the smith’s wife said tearfully. “What will they do to us?”

“Protect you,” Stone said as he pulled Doug up by the wagon. “They have decided to join us. The others … you can just see them heading back to the city … are a defeated army. The men who joined us are each worth 10 of them. Or will be when a few finish their training.”