Lords of Freedom 2 - Chapter 1
Many GVS Substack readings are open to everyone, but we need paid subscribers. If you can, please upgrade to paid, and forward our emails to everyone.
Lords of Freedom 2 - Chapter 1 - Pure Warrior
Looking down from the hilltop, through the smoke and din of battle, Jayn saw the Farland troops begin to falter. Elihu, the majestic white stallion she rode tossed his head and stamped a hoof, anticipating the coming charge. Jayn reined him in, humming to settle him, as she determined the most advantageous spot to advance.
She hadn’t told even Johann, her chief counselor, of the vision she’d had at dawn that day. She’d waited until they’d reached the appointed spot; when she saw the sign she insisted on altering their course. No one was happy about that but none forbade it, though all argued mightily against it.
Behind her, thirty men astride dark horses awaited her signal. They were her battlefield guard, elite soldiers who knew no fear, who would die for her without a qualm. To them, she was hope in a world of despair—one lone star shining bright in a blackened sky.
Clad in white armor, with her golden hair flowing behind her in the breeze she resembled an angel, on loan from heaven to aid their cause. Rumor had it that she communed with angels, if she wasn’t one of them, gaining counsel and guidance through visions and dreams.
She held a staff in one hand which in turn bore a banner bearing three interlocking gold rings set on a light blue background. The rings symbolized truth, freedom, and love—the things she fought for by heaven’s decree.
Jayn raised the banner high and urged Elihu forward. Like an ocean wave, her thirty guards followed, spurring their mounts and filling the air with battle cries. As always, her tactical maneuver was a breathtaking spectacle: a figure of white astride her pale horse, banner streaming in the wind, followed by her guard, clad in black armor astride dark mounts.
Hooves thundered down the hill, and those fighting below paused their mayhem. Then, in rising confusion, the two armies drew apart, retreating like a parting sea. Who in his right mind wanted to fight against The Angel of Freedom and Mercy?
A few mean-looking, blood-covered Vlad soldiers stood their ground and roared at Jayn, but they were quickly cut down by the elite guards flanking her. Others who thought to fight her felt a rising burn of shame and lowered their weapons.
Jayn and her guard moved steadily forward flanked now by the cheering Farland troops, leaving a trail of dead and wounded behind them—those who sought to fight. Men with lowered weapons were spared.
Before long many of the enemy fled the battlefield with her troops in hot pursuit, killing as many as could be caught. Then the buglers sounded the recall, to end the slaughter.
*****
On a distant hill, Prince Nigel fumed as half the Vlad troops surrendered and the rest fled in disarray. Then he whirled as his field general, Cullen arrived on the scene, dusty and panting, one arm tucked in against a grievous wound in his side.
“Your lordship,” he managed, sinking painfully to one knee.
“Coward,” the prince roared, kicking him to the ground. “You flee before a mere girl with a troupe of fools, leaving your men behind?”
He paused, looking over the battlefield again. “Of course, they’re bolting as well, but with the sense to head away from me.”
The Vlad prince turned to his guard. “Bind him.”
As they did, howbeit regretfully, the prince sneered down. “The price of failure is a slow and painful death.”
With that, he plunged his dagger into General Cullen’s stomach. The man roared with pain, but the prince merely curled his lip in a snarl, wrenching the dagger free as he straightened.
Turning away, without a second thought, the prince again addressed his guard. “Hunt down every last deserter and bring them to the castle for public execution.”
*****
Back at the castle, Prince Nigel donned a pair of thick gloves and retrieved his falcon, Calla from her perch. Striding to the throne room, he found his chief advisor, Morley waiting there. Setting Calla on another perch in the corner, he took his royal seat.
Morley was an imposing man, tall with hunched shoulders and bushy gray hair. His eyes were sharp and missed little and his mind shrewd in plots and ploys. Seeing the falcon on Nigel’s arm flap to the perch, he thinned his lips, eyes wary of the bird.
“Jayn must be stopped,” Prince Nigel snarled. “She bewitched half my troops this night and sent the rest scurrying from the battlefield like frightened mice.”
“She joined the battle?” Morley exclaimed. “She was en route to the Farland castle, summoned by Dauphin Percival. What of the ambush?”
“We need to message the troop. She’ll likely camp for the night and continue on tomorrow. Summon Kermit to pen a message,” Prince Nigel ordered.
Morley left the throne room with a nod.
Restless with fury, the prince stood from his throne and paced the chamber. Calla gave a little chirrup, so he plucked a bit of dried meat from a tin on the perch’s shelf and fed it to her. She bobbed her head and regarded him through beady black eyes.
Though at war with Farland, the kingdom of Vlad had conspired with them. Farland’s Dauphin Percival, along with key others in power were displeased with Jayn and her rising influence. Both kingdoms wanted to win the war but at the same time wanted to keep it going for the time being. Neither wanted peace to be accomplished through the visionary Jayn.
Dauphin Percival had couriered a message to Jayn, insisting she and her guard report to the Farland palace. Set in the spirit of comparing battle strategies and coordination, Jayn would be ambushed and taken captive by a troop of Vlad soldiers led by General Vicor.
“You have a mission tonight,” he said, stroking Calla’s feathers with his finger.
With another chirrup the falcon ruffled her feathers, craning her neck toward the window. Prince Nigel smiled; at times it seemed Calla understood his words. She was a fierce hunter as well as a reliable courier, trained by himself and General Vicor. No one else could handle her, and anyone who tried was pecked, clawed, or even bitten.
“Sire?”
Nigel turned to see Morley, back with the scribe Kermit. He was a rotund, fleshy man with watery blue eyes and a mop of sandy blond hair. His penmanship was excellent though, his hand quick, and he never questioned anything asked of him.
Taking his appointed seat, Kermit glanced over at Calla on her stand, plucked up a small sheet of parchment, and reached for his quill. Lowering his gaze, he waited in silence.
“Inform General Vicor that Jayn strayed off course to join the battle this night. Tell him to hold position and expect her tomorrow sometime. Once they have her, he is to send Calla back with an estimate of when they’ll arrive here with Jayn.”
Kermit was already scribbling, the words flowing from his pen in precise rhythm. Moments after the prince finished speaking he looked up. “Anything else?”
“That should suffice.”
Kermit replaced his quill and rolled the scrap of parchment tightly. After slipping it into a small cylinder he glanced warily at Calla as he stood and crossed the room to hand it to the prince. The falcon gave a little hiss.
Prince Nigel affixed the cylinder to Calla’s leg and then extended his gloved arm. She hopped on and he walked to the window, opening it wide with his free hand.
“To Vicor, from whence you last flew.”
At his words, Calla spread her wings and launched airborne, through the window and into the night. She knew the words castle and whence from her training, as well as the names Nigel and Vicor. For her to run messages, Vicor would take her with him and then send her back to the prince with the word castle and the name Nigel. When the prince sent a message to the general, the words whence and the name Vicor sent Calla directly back to him. It was somewhat limited, but the best one could hope for, as General Vicor was ever on the move.
*****
On the battlefield, oblivious of Prince Nigel and his schemes, Jayn made her way among the wounded soldiers, friend and foe alike. Her guard moved with her, mindful to disarm every man she approached. At her signal, a train of physicians appeared as though borne on the gusting breeze, spreading across the battlefield to save every man they could.
Lovingly Jayn took rough hands in hers and kissed ugly faces as she said, over and over, “Do not be afraid; if we can, we will heal you, in mind, body, and spirit.”
As she smiled and cried with the many fallen soldiers they felt her love and power. Arms reached toward her, as she moved about, and with boundless patience, she clasped each and every one.
To the Vlad soldiers she entreated, “Instead of fighting against Farland, join us now and live for freedom, truth, and love. All these gifts I offer you freely.”
Many hard men twice her size looked into her loving brown eyes, hearts breaking as they responded, “I will.”
Night fell, with all the wounded tended to. The sky was clear, with a full moon and countless twinkling stars. Men moved about, finishing their supper and preparing to bed down, while horses nickered back and forth. Far off, the howl of a wolf pierced the air, and was answered in kind; then both distant beasts fell silent.
In her tent, Jayn sat with Chief Counselor Johann. He was a tall man with sleek black hair and a neatly trimmed beard. His eyes were sharp, like those of a hawk, and his manner quizzing as he gazed into her weary eyes.
“Do you feel up to reviewing the way things stand?” he asked, taking up his quill.
At once her eyes brightened, and the exhaustion hanging over her vanished. “Of course.”
“Very good.” Johann cleared his throat. “Tell me again what the angel said when she first appeared in your room.”
Jayn smiled. “She told me her name was Mercedes and that she was sent from heaven with a quest: I’m to lead Farland in its fight for freedom.”
Johann scribbled a moment then met her eye. “What is the second thing Mercedes told you?”
“She instructed me to make a banner representing truth, freedom, and love; I’m to carry it with me everywhere, seeking allies from all classes of people: nobles, military, craftsmen, merchants, and farmers.
“The third thing Mercedes told me was to use my army to drive the invaders out of our land.
“The next topic was battle tactics. I’m to attack, watch our flanks, secure the areas we take, and attack again without delay.”
Johann leaned back in his chair. “These tactics are much different than the raid and retreat war that we have been fighting these past years.”
Jayn nodded, springing from her chair to pace the room. “Yes, I know, and many leaders have resisted such an aggressive war, but our success is starting to win them over. Once we reach Farland and meet with Dauphin Percival, I’m sure I can convince him of this strategy.”
Johann sighed heavily, but he smiled as well. “True enough, my lady. With Dauphin Percival’s summons to compare notes and coordinate your efforts with the army’s, we may be able to end this war very soon, without prolonged bloodshed.”
“I pray that is true,” Jayn said, clasping her hands behind her back.
They were journeying back to the Farland to meet with Dauphin Percival but had made a detour to the battlefield earlier that day. Jayn knew she must now reveal to Johann what had inspired it.
“I had a vision today—this morning, actually.”
Johann nodded gravely. “I surmised as much when you insisted on veering off course and into battle.”
“It was at dawn, after breakfast, while the men were breaking camp. I was by the little creek, and all at once, Mercedes was there with me. She told me there was a battle underway nearby and that the Farland troops would desperately need our intervention and my presence there to triumph.
“Remember how cloudy it was this morning? Mercedes said that when we reached a fork in the road, the clouds rolled back, and the sun shone brightly down, we were to take that path…directly to the battlefield.”
“I see,” Johann mused. “I remember the clouds parting and the sunlight beams…it was quite remarkable. Thank you for telling me.”
“Mercedes counseled me not to tell any of you until after the battle was won; otherwise I’d have told you at the time,” Jayn explained, pacing the tent once again.
Johann nodded understanding. Now things made perfect sense.
“There was one other thing—the fifth thing Mercedes told me back in Farland: never give up or lose faith because when things look the darkest she will send help.”
The moon shifted in the sky, sending a bright ray of light into the tent through one of the open flaps. Jayn froze in mid-stride and then smiled wide.
Johann raised his brow, letting the quill drop from his fingers as the light radiated around Jayn. In that moment, she looked like an angel—an avenging angel raised to bring tyranny to its knees.
© Copyright 2024 Gene Van Shaar