Black wizards - Douglas Niles [151]
It pleased him to hear these boastful stories, and it made the men feel better as well. The morale of the entire group increased with each step and each new band of recruits.
But finally they reached the edge of the forest, having been driven nearly to the coast by the knowledge that the Scarlet Guard was in pursuit. Tristan ordered a rest break, and the men collapsed on the grassy moor, still exchanging boasts. He saw that many of the men were unarmed, and he put them to work cutting and sharpening stakes. The makeshift spears would have to do.
"They look steadier already," remarked Robyn.
"Yes. If we can avoid the king's army for a few more days, I think we'll have an army of our own!" said Tristan. "We'll rest here for an hour and then move on – that's our best chance to pick up more recruits."
"You may not even have to do that – look!" The druid pointed to the south, along the coast.
The ragged band of men trudging wearily toward them were obviously also men of Doncastle – several hundred of them. As they drew closer, Tristan recognized two of the men in the lead.
"O'Roarke and Pontswain," he said quietly.
Robyn and Fiona joined him as he walked purposefully toward the approaching band. The bandit leader stopped to wait for them, and his men flopped wearily on the grass.
"Prince of Corwell," said the outlaw, eyeing Tristan with barely concealed hostility. "I see you have gathered some of my men together."
"They are yours no longer, my lord Roarke," Tristan responded evenly. "You lost the right to command them when you led them to disaster in Doncastle. You were indeed the lord of that town, but that town no longer exists. If you wish, we shall ask them who they desire to follow – I am confident it will be me!"
"So you failed to usurp the king, and now you would take my men instead?"
"Don't be such a pompous fool!" snapped Fiona, stepping before the prince to glare at O'Roarke. "He has done more to strike at the king in a week than you have done in your entire life! Now you must help him – it's your only chance to make my father's sacrifice mean something!"
"How dare you -" Hugh choked with rage.
"How dare you pretend you are the man to lead them!" barked the prince. "Your stubbornness cost the lives of hundreds of their companions. Your refusal to look at the battle rationally doomed your entire town to burning!"
The prince's words cut into Hugh O'Roarke like a knife. He had carried the guilty knowledge with him since the battle, but no one had dared to throw it so bluntly in his face.
"There is hope of victory yet," urged Tristan. "You and your men can join with me. You can avenge the defeat, stand up to the Scarlet Guard! We will unite and give battle!"
A spark of O'Roarke's old spirit flashed in his eyes, and he looked from his band of exhausted stragglers to Tristan's group, industriously carving spears.
"Let me lead us all to victory," said the prince quietly.
Hugh O'Roarke drew his sword in a swift motion, then knelt and offered the hilt of his weapon to the prince. Tristan took the blade in gratitude and relief. "Rise, my lord, and join us!"
A cheer arose from both groups as O'Roarke's men stood and marched quickly to Tristan's. The small force now numbered over five hundred men.
"Pontswain?" Tristan turned back to the lord, who had stood sullenly during his conversation with O'Roarke. "Will you, too, cast your lot with us?"
"You have no hope – none at all," said the lord, looking in despair at the ragged band. "I will fight and die here now, for I have no choice!
"But know this, my prince! Our deaths – yours and mine – mean the death of hope for Corwell. You have chosen to fight your battle here in Callidyrr. It is my own folly that my fight is tied to yours – for now our own kingdom is bereft of leadership!" Pontswain stalked past him toward the gathering of men.
"He's wrong," said Robyn quietly. "There is a strength in these men that you can harness. We can prevail!"
"You're right. I'm beginning to feel that it is possible,