Rise of the Dead Prince by Brian A. Hurd Read Free Book Online Page A

cast a spell on them, filling them with bravery. They rallied! Making the wedge around him, they pushed forward into the heart of the surrounding line. They fought like men possessed. Somehow they knew that Prince Meier would save them.
    Ian saw his little brother. Something snapped in him as well. He felt an uplifting surge. He ordered his skirmishers to leave the archers and charge the infantry from behind. Assur saw Meier charging. He rallied his fo rces.
    “Protect the wedge!” yelled Assur to the vanguard. And they did. Mustering all the remaining heavy cavalry, Assur began his own wedge, attacking the enemy sideways along their line. This did not destroy them, but it did give them something to think about, which was all Meier needed. He broke the enemy line! Once he was through, he called to his men.
    “Pinch them in! Meet the skirmishers!” The men began to gain momentum. The enemy was rattled; it was now they who were trapped. Or at least half of them were. Meier turned his eyes to the other half of the field. He rode at top speed to the where the other half of the remaining Valahian infantry was still boxed in. Quickly looking around again, he saw a hole at the corner of the two sides of enemy infa ntry.
    “Charge the corner!” he yelled above the battle clamor. “For Valahia!” he screamed and rode into the fray. “Push!” And again, the men saw him and took heart. They quickly broke through. Again, the skirmishers were charging the infantry from the other side, harrying their forces and boxing the m in.
    The tide of the battle turned. Each man fought his heart out, taking on twice his share of the fighting. The Karavunians forces began to dwindle. Finally, broken and beaten, they started to rout. The rest of the fight was soon over, as the Karavunians retreated into the woods and across the river, scattering like ants from a m ound.
    They had won! Victory had been grabbed from the jaws of defeat. All thanks to Meier. Who would have guessed that he had such a gift for strategy and command? No one was more surprised than he. From somewhere, a voice shouted a single name. Meier turned to see who it was. Another joined in. With weapons raised, a chorus rang out across the field. The infantry was shou ting.
    “Meier! Meier! Meier!” Meier didn’t know what else to do. He raised his weapon and saluted them all.
    Still, in his heart, the victory was bittersweet. These men had been defending their border against invaders. He looked at the fallen on the battlefield. There were thousands. How many of them need not have died? Meier felt sick. He suddenly felt a pang of guilt. In all the commotion, he had forgotten one very important thing. He quickly rode to where his father lay wounded. Assur and Ian were already there. The surgeon had gotten his armor off and was dressing his wound even as Meier arrived. It looked as though he would live. That much, at least, was cause for celebra tion.

5 The Invasion
    T he evening after the battle was a sad and busy time. The entire camp was filled with dead and wounded soldiers. Many of the tents had been turned into impromptu hospitals. Meanwhile, Meier wandered around at the edge of the camp, looking at the stars and thinking of all he had seen. It had been horrific. He thought of how his nerves had somehow calmed at the moment of truth. Why had he not been afraid? His mind then turned to the terrible potion he had drunk. That must have been it. It seemed that the old man had been right about everything. There was more to Crocus than met the eye.
    Meier had become an instant celebrity. Everywhere he went, men dropped what they were doing and saluted him. Their eyes were filled with admiration. It was all so new that Meier hardly knew how to react. He returned their salutes and smiled, thanking them as he did so. Never in his life had he been paid attention to, and certainly not on this scale. This must have been what it felt like to be one of the heroes in his favorite