I managed to sleep a little more that night, though I was already awake when a vigil came to tell me the one hundred men were gathered. Over a thick layer of chain mail, I wore a deep blue brigandine embroidered with the gold crest of Carthya and with metal plates riveted to the fabric to protect my arms and torso. Mott thoroughly disapproved of the outfit. He wanted me in full battle armor, but it was too heavy for me, especially since I still lacked the full strength I’d had before my time in Vargan’s camp. Besides that, I was neither the biggest nor the strongest in this battle. My only hope was to be the quickest, and for that, I needed light armor. In better news, Mott informed me that my horse, Mystic, had been sent to the camp in anticipation of my arrival. I was thrilled for that. Mystic knew me well and would cooperate better with my plans than another, less fierce horse. I dismissed Mott to prepare Mystic for the ride while I finished getting ready. All that remained was to strap on my sword and whisper a request to the devils not to interfere with my plans.
Except this time, that didn’t seem like enough, and my thoughts turned to the saints. When I was younger, the priests had always frowned and murmured to one another when I entered the chapel each week. Admittedly, that may have been because I rarely let pass the opportunity to make loud jokes to my brother about their tedious sermons. The priests said I wouldn’t get any favors from the saints until I took their sermons seriously, but I tended to believe the saints were just as bored with their sermons as I was. Besides, I’d never considered myself the type of person the saints would be interested in helping anyway. As I thought about the coming day, I hoped I was wrong about that.
In the quiet of my tent, I reflected on what the priests had said about the afterlife. The idea that those who had passed on remained a part of our lives, eternally watching over us, appealed to me in a way it never had when I was younger. And if the priests were right, then Imogen must be a saint now, as well as my family. The saints would help me. Imogen would make them help me — I knew she would. So for the first time ever, I had no worries about the tricks of the devils. I would ride into battle on the wings of the saints.
As I strode from the tent, Mystic’s reins were thrust into my hands. I climbed astride and immediately noticed Mott already on his own horse.
“What are you doing here?” I asked him.
“It’s all very shameful,” he said. “It turns out I’m one of your one hundred weakest men.”
“You’re not.”
“I’m afraid it’s true.” Even as he spoke, Mott couldn’t resist smiling. “It’s a source of great embarrassment, Your Majesty, and I beg you not to question me about it any further.”
I chuckled again, and then rode to where all the men could see me. “My friends, what we are about to do is not the battle of your forefathers, nor the time-tested strategies of the past. It has never been done, or to be fair, never been done successfully. But that is what will make us great. You will tell your children and your grandchildren of this moment. In your old age, the last smile on your lips will be the memory of what we are about to do. Your commanders undoubtedly told you that I wanted the weakest of our armies to ride with me here today. Be grateful that you were chosen, because it is through the weakest that the strong arm of Carthya will wield its strength. My friends, we ride as the weak always will: quietly and without drawing even the attention of the sleeping bird to our path. Follow me.”
Only a few dim lanterns highlighted the grave expressions of the soldiers, but I saw Mott’s face well enough. He smiled at me with a look I’d seen before: He thought me the biggest fool he had ever known, and hoped that very quality might save us all. I hoped so too.
I led the way along a trail I had studied earlier that day. It would take us from our camp overlooking the valley down to the floor through a narrow pathway largely obscured by thick trees and tall shrubbery. It would eventually empty out not far from where I intended to lie in wait for Mendenwal.
Our group traveled in complete silence. Of course, the horses made plenty of noise, but as was common in the nights here, wind swirled throughout the valley. As long as we were careful, our sounds wouldn’t carry all the way to Mendenwal’s camp.
By dawn, I sat upon Mystic’s back at the far end of the valley floor, easily within Mendenwal’s grasp. Mott was at my side and one hundred of Carthya’s least impressive soldiers sat on horses behind me. What they lacked in skill, they made up for with confident postures and calm stillness.
The scouts of Mendenwal saw us at first light and quickly rode back to their camp with shouts of alarm.
“They’ll gather their armies now,” I announced. “Everyone stay ready and wait here.”
Once the first group from Mendenwal entered the valley floor, I rode forward, flanked by Mott and my standard bearer, who held the flag of Carthya aloft in the morning breeze. It was emblazoned with my family’s coat of arms over the blue and gold colors that had always symbolized the compassion and courage of my country. We stopped within calling distance of each other, no closer than necessary.
Their commander had brought ten men ahead with him. Since I had only Mott and a poorly armed standard bearer, the ratio seemed about right for our respective forces. I called to their commander, “What brings Mendenwal into war against Carthya? We have no quarrel with you.”
“We ride on orders from King Humfrey. His reasons are his own.”
“And are you certain those reasons are worth your deaths?” Mott cleared his throat as a warning to me, but I only smiled and raised my voice. “I don’t wish to offend your king, of course, but it’s clear his reasoning abilities have abandoned him. Perhaps you should take your armies and go home, while you can.”
“You will not insult the king of Mendenwal!” the commander cried.
“It’s not an insult. Only an observation of fact. The only reason King Humfrey would invade my country is because he was either threatened or else Avenia promised him something gold and shiny. Please believe me when I tell you that Avenia will not keep its promises. They are using you to destroy me, and they will turn on you next. For your own sake, Commander, I urge you to ride home as fast as your wobbly horse can carry you.”
The commander’s face tightened, which nearly made me laugh. I hadn’t deliberately made anyone this angry since Master Graves had attempted to teach me my letters at Farthenwood so many months ago, and it felt good.
The commander gestured to the hundred men far behind me. “Is that your army, King Jaron? Or did you bring your country’s fiercest kittens?”
I briefly turned back to them. “Be warned. Our kittens will scratch like lions. The men behind me are the ones who wanted the honor of crushing your army.”
“I could send my nursemaids out here to fight those men.”
“I’m sorry you have such little value for your nursemaids. We invite them to become Carthyan citizens. You are warned, Commander. We will defeat all of your army camped here this day. I meant what I said before. Most of your men will not survive. Including you.”
The commander laughed. “Surrender to me now, Jaron.”
“No, you surrender to me!” I yelled. “I’m bored of this conversation. Either promise to leave Carthya this instant and you will live, or go and fetch your armies. I will take out the first thousand myself. Maybe more if they’re no sharper than you seem to be.”
The commander looked to his companions, who snorted their disdain for me, and then he said, “Very well, King Jaron. You have sealed your doom.”
“So said the last man I defeated. Off you go, then! Bring me your worst, and hurry! I was awake early and am hoping for a nap this afternoon.”
As the Mendenwal group rode away, Mott turned to me and said, “Are you insane?” I smiled back at him and he said, “Of course you are. Please tell me you have a plan.”
“Here’s my plan,” I replied. “We stay right here. Do you know any tunes to whistle while we wait?”
Apparently, Mott did not know any tunes for whistling, but he did work in a nice chorus of grunts and sighs.
The Mendenwal armies must have been ready to march, because it wasn’t long before I saw them. Mendenwal soldiers were swordsmen, well trained and well disciplined. There were far too many of them to travel by horse, so nearly all of them entered the valley on foot. I saw the commander and his leaders on their horses, but they led from behind, which I had expected. They wanted the least valuable of their men, the ones in front, to take the worst of whatever my armies would bring.
“How many men are coming?” I asked Mott.
He squinted. “I estimate at least a thousand already on the march, but I can’t see the end of their lines. You can’t expect to fight them all.”
“No,” I said. “I don’t expect to fight any of them.”
Once they were close enough to begin the battle, the order was given for the soldiers to run for the three of us. I made a loud comment about the unfortunate tendency of Mendenwal women to sprout warts on their faces, then turned and began riding away. Not too quickly. Just a bit faster than they could run.
“Our one hundred can’t handle them,” Mott said. “Some are very poor fighters.”
“That’s why they’re here, and not with the others.”
Mott quickened his horse to keep pace with mine. “I cannot believe that you would sacrifice these men for any reason. It’s not like you.”
I only smiled. “How many men are behind us now?”
He glanced back and said, “Their lines are in disarray. But the valley is quickly filling.”
By the time we reached my men, panic was clear on their faces. Most had drawn their swords, ready for a battle that was certain to end in devastating failure.
“Why do you all look so worried?” I asked, riding around them. “Have you seen the bright sun rising today? Is anyone else feeling warm?”
Judging by the sweat on their faces, they all were. Or maybe it had nothing to do with the heat. These men were terrified.
“Then let us ride,” I said. “Not too fast. But stay ahead of their armies.”
So we rode. With credit to the Mendenwal soldiers, some of them were excellent runners and seemingly tireless, so we moved faster than I would have liked. Behind us, the wide valley continued to fill, and their soldiers were becoming increasingly angry.
Finally, we were nearing the end of the valley. The Carthyan camp high above us was entirely empty now. We had no second chances, no support, and if things didn’t go well, no place to go to save ourselves. With Mendenwal at our backs and impossibly steep climbs ahead of us, I could never get everyone to safety.
Except I had no intention of getting to the top. Only to get a little higher than where we were now.
I rode to the rear of my men and raised my sword. Then I yelled out to Mendenwal, “Lay down your weapons now and live.” They only continued to run for me, which was unfortunate, but not unexpected. “Very well,” I muttered. To whatever end, it was time to unleash a plan I had anticipated for months. In the next few minutes, we would face either great success or a certain slaughter.