Northlander by D. Lambert

Author:D. Lambert [Lambert, D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781644504895
Publisher: 4 Horsemen Publications, Inc.
Published: 2022-05-05T02:09:17+00:00

Barnon watched in silent admiration. Sol had been right. After conversing with a feral man, Tohmas organized his forces into a powerful assault smoothly. With one charge, the combined forces pushed the Northlanders out of the west and off the frozen lake to the south. It helped that the enemy’s camp on the lake apparently had no one on the defenses. Barnon guessed the Rydans had been responsible for that unexpected advantage.

The last time Barnon commanded armies, he had been defending his princedom after his father’s death with help from old family friends, seasoned warriors who had sworn to preserve Zayban’s legacy. Watching Tohmas now made Barnon realize how little he had understood about those battles.

From the south, Rydan horses pounded into the Northlander lines, and the Northlanders broke under their hooves. It had not snowed recently; the packed ground provided ideal footing. In a hundred heartbeats, the blockade at the base of the west-facing hill was uprooted by the combined efforts of the Esparans and Rydans.

It was spectacular. Having never seen Rydans in battle, Barnon was surprised by their speed. Their horses towered over anything but a Trulin warhorse, and they seemingly enjoyed trampling their enemy. There were no saddles or bridles, yet the horses and riders moved as one through the trampled snow, spears flying ahead of them. The tangled mess of people resolved over time, leaving bodies strewn in red snow as the rush moved on toward the Northlanders’ camp.

Everyone stopped at the barriers of DoomDragon’s main camp as Tohmas had commanded. A large force of Northlanders, the burly DoomDragon among them, manned the barricades. The Rydans had lined up for a charge, an attack Barnon considered folly, when a horn cut through the air. The warhorses were brought up short—a feat in of itself.

The Esparans returned to HillTop. The Rydans collected behind the stolen defenses of the lake camp, their enormous warhorses among them. The Northlanders did not follow.

The lake camp, once the greatest obstacle to renewing HillTop’s supplies, was now in Rydan hands.

Barnon could not stop grinning. The west hills behind the rocks provided a safe path down. They were, for the first time since he had arrived in HillTop, not cornered.

The Rydans appeared to be unpacking; the lake camp now belonged to them. As Barnon watched shelters be claimed by Rydans, a group of six Rydans headed up the hill toward Barnon. No, not me, Barnon realized. Prince Tohmas was waiting for them.

Are they mercenaries? How had Tohmas procured their services? And at what cost?

Master Kitable made a face and quietly said, “I think I had better be elsewhere. Call me if you need me.” By the time Tohmas nodded, Kitable had already rushed away, leaving Carsh, Tohmas, and Barnon alone at the top of the hill.

The man at the head of the group of Rydans was burlier than Carsh but of equal height. His fur coat parted, showing off his thickly muscled, scarred chest decorated with a tattoo of a grinning, fanged jaw. Like all Rydans, they wore clumps of grass tied around their wrists.

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