Shadow of war, p.26
Shadow of War, page 26
A number of men in bedraggled Melucian uniforms shuffled about, clearing pathways, hauling buckets, or helping remove debris so repairs could be made to buildings, carts, or walls. Atikus noted the blankness in their eyes, the despondent resignation of men who’d faced death—and still faced it everywhere they turned. Who said victory always tasted sweet?
They rode through the practice yard at the compound’s center, and Tab stopped and stared, water flooding his eyes in an instant as he gazed at two large poles in the courtyard’s center. Atikus figured they were mighty trees once, but now looked more like brittle logs so burned they’d snap apart with a strong gust of wind.
“What is it, boy?” Atikus asked.
“This . . . this is where . . .” He couldn’t stop the sob. “They burned the General and Guildmaster.”
Atikus’s eyes squeezed tight, and he muttered a prayer to the good Spirits for the poor men’s souls.
“There’ll be time for mourning. We need to get to the Guild.” The Mage added some steel to reassure the boy and lend him some resolve as they trotted forward again.
When they passed through the northern gate and stood before the ancient arched entrance to the Mages’ Guild, it was Tab offering resolve to the Mage. Atikus nearly fell from his saddle at the sight.
Dozens of blue-robed figures lay in neat rows in front of the Guild Hall, or what remained of the once majestic edifice. Like the army barracks, the Guild Academy and living quarters survived the attack, with minor damage coming mostly from stones of the shattered Tower. The Guild Hall hadn’t fared so well. The mighty doors with their ornate Phoenix carvings and ruby eyes still stood, but much of the rest of the structure had taken major damage from falling stones or Fire. It broke his heart to think of the time he’d spent in that Hall, teaching, training, and laughing with other Mages. Then his eyes walked the ground before the shell of a hall and his heart knew true grief. Those very men he’d laughed with lay draped in Melucia’s navy ensign. He forced himself to take each Mage in turn, paying his silent respects to their memory. These weren’t friends of years or even decades, but brothers and sisters loved throughout centuries of life.
Tab caught him as he missed a step, and Atikus gripped the boy’s arm in silent thanks.
* * *
Keelan rode Dittler slowly into the heart of Saltstone. The stallion, normally strong-willed and quick to snap, trotted deliberately. Once stately shops that crowded the western side of the Merchants’ Guild Hall were barely recognizable. It looked like a line of angry flame had streaked through town, leaving a trail of blackened earth and charred, gutted buildings. Keelan traced the path of the blackened line, and his eyes landed on the point before the Silver Mountains where the Mages’ Tower once stood. He turned his head and followed the line to its end, across the road and into one of the wealthy residential sections of town, now also a wasteland.
Spirits, what terrible magic could do such a thing?
The gaudy, colorful exterior of the Merchants’ Guild’s boxy building now held more char than paint, and he could see where sections of walls and the roof had collapsed. Most of the building could likely be saved, but only with great effort.
At least something would survive.
He crossed the river and reined Dittler to a halt at the fork. One path led to the Guard complex, the other to the infirmary. His heart pulled him toward the latter, if only for one last look. The shops along the road were as decimated as those by the Merchants’ Guild, but Tiana’s medical building stood miraculously untouched. Perhaps its abandoned state saved it from looting soldiers or wanton destruction. He would never know, but his heart smiled briefly at the sight of the cabin standing whole amid so much loss.
Tiana would’ve loved that.
He tied Dittler to a post and pushed open the door. Nothing had changed. Nothing had been disturbed. He was stunned.
He walked aimlessly through the building, running fingers over the smooth exam tables, trying to feel Tiana’s hand in his gentle touch. The hard wood refused him solace. When he reached the storage room in the back and scanned its upturned contents, something in the pungent, acidic smell of fused potions caused the Healer’s smiling face to appear in his mind. She reached forward and cupped his cheek gently, then the image vanished. Keelan reached out with his own hand, as if to stop hers from disappearing, but it was gone.
He walked back to the entrance, and a gust of wind blew through the open door, causing something on the wall to rattle. He looked to his left to find the ornate tapestry Tiana’s father had left her rippling with the wind. If he left it, some looter would steal it and sell it to the highest bidder, ensuring Tiana’s father and his legacy would fade. He couldn’t let that happen, so he carefully removed the weaving, rolled it, and tied it to Dittler’s flank, then closed the infirmary door one last time.
Moments later, Keelan dismounted and walked Dittler through the southern gate of the Guard complex. It was marred with the same odd, charred line in the ground he’d seen near the Merchants’ Guild, starting at the site of the Mages’ Tower, running through the center of the Guard complex and into the southeastern residential district. Miraculously, it had traveled down the exact center of the compound, missing all of the buildings, which stood just as he remembered them. Guards in dusty-blue coats scurried with more purpose that he’d seen anywhere else in the city thus far, and their shoulders and eyes carried more life and strength than that of the soldiers he’d passed. His head snapped when someone called excitedly from across the yard.
“KEELAN!”
Ridley Doa nearly knocked Keelan down as he charged across the field and wrapped his mentor in a mighty hug. Dittler brayed and nipped at Ridley, and Keelan smiled for the first time since entering the city, his heart pausing from its grief for a moment of pure joy.
“You’re alive! Spirits, we thought we’d lost you.”
Keelan looked down at Ridley and laughed at the goofy grin plastered across the man’s face. “It’s good to see you, too, even if you’ve let your uniform go to hell.”
“Guard standards have really taken a hit while you’ve been gone. Don’t get me started.” Ridley teased back. Then his eyes shot open with excitement, and he pulled at Keelan’s arm. “There’s someone here who will want to see you right away. Come on.”
* * *
Atikus dragged himself through the rows of frozen Mages and climbed the three steps to face the door of the living quarters. He hesitated, placing a palm against the stately wood, his heart hammering at the memories he knew would assault him when he gathered the strength to enter. He felt Tab’s hand on his shoulder in sympathy, sucked in a strained breath, then pulled the handle and peered inside.
Three Mages sat huddled in comfortable chairs around a squatty table. Each carried the somber expression of ones unused to facing darkness but now found themselves immersed in it. Six bleary eyes crawled toward Atikus as he entered. They widened and brightened immediately, and their masters bolted upright with excitement. The Mage nearest the door took three strides and nearly bowled Atikus down. The sounds of mourning were replaced with laughter and childlike banter as the reunion provided a welcome distraction from the day’s gruesome tasks.
“Atikus, it’s so good to see you again. When you left on that fool’s errand, we were sure we’d lost you forever.” A tall thin Mage with wispy white hair that barely covered his pate grinned broadly, finally stepping back from their hug.
“It was a near thing—many times, actually—but it’s good to be home and see all of you well.”
One of the others sobered and said, “We’re alive. I’m not so sure how well we are at the moment.”
Atikus nodded and stepped forward to place a hand on the man’s shoulder, then eyed each man in turn as he spoke. “Velius would be proud of each of you for carrying on. I know it’s hard, but we honor him—all of them—by continuing our work.”
Sadness returned to their eyes at the mention of their beloved Arch Mage and fallen brothers and sisters. Atikus retrieved his hand. “I’m sorry to press, but please tell me what happened. I have information to share but need to know how we stand and who’s in charge.”
The scrawny Mage shook his head. “Atikus, there’s only fifteen of us left, out of three hundred who lived here.” He began with the siege and days of failed bombardments, then walked Atikus through what they knew of Quin and Declan’s efforts to repel the enemy when the walls finally fell.
“Everyone was terrified. First Isabel sent columns of Flame throughout the city, then stones and magic exploded from the Tower in every direction as it fell. The Kingdom’s soldiers seemed as surprised and frightened at that point as our own men. By the time the Phoenix finished with them, there wasn’t much Kingdom army left to run away.”
Another Mage added, “Some did make it away before the Phoenix finished them off. Must’ve been hundreds running west out of the city when she turned toward the mountains, then eastward.”
“I doubt either nation has enough men to fight a brawl, much less a war now. That’s probably a good thing. I fear the anger and retribution our people would seek if we had the means to carry it out.” Atikus pulled a waterskin from the folds of his robe and handed it to Wispy. “Just a sip, alright? It should take care of most of your wounds. That’s all we have left, so make sure it gets to as many as possible. I need to go see the Captain-Commander, but I’ll be back by supper.”
Despite everything, the other Mages smiled at Atikus and his famous appetite.
* * *
Keelan let himself be dragged toward the headquarters building, but groaned, “Do we have to see the Captain-Commander first thing?”
Ridley laughed conspiratorially. “Not even close. You’re going to owe me forever after this.”
Keelan tied Dittler outside the headquarters and followed Ridley inside where he was surprised to see a flurry of activity. Dozens of Guardsmen bustled toward one task or another. When the famous Lieutenant Rea appeared in the doorway, all eyes turned, and work halted. It only took a second of recognition before Keelan was mauled. There had been so little to celebrate lately, the loyal Guard family wouldn’t let one of their own return home without a proper greeting—and a few happy tears.
Ridley pried Keelan away after a few moments, still oddly anxious about whatever mischief had him worked up, dragging his Lieutenant into the bowels of the building where the Captain-Commander’s office held court.
“Ugh. I thought you said we weren’t coming here,” Keelan groaned.
“No, I said we weren’t coming to see the Captain-Commander. He might be in his office, but so is the person you might care a bit more about.”
Keelan shook his head. The impossibly wide grin splitting Ridley’s face had somehow split wider, and Keelan found himself grinning in return.
Albius’s ever-attendant clerk rose and started to speak, but Ridley waved him down, never breaking stride as he reached the stately doors of the office. “Don’t even think about it.”
Keelan raised a brow at Ridley’s new confidence—and apparent insubordination.
The ceiling-high doors of the Captain-Commander’s office squealed open to reveal Albius sitting behind his desk glaring down at a stack of papers. Keelan couldn’t read his eyes when he looked up, but thought he saw a mix of annoyance at being disturbed, then relief at Keelan’s appearance.
Keelan didn’t see the man sitting in one of the chairs around the table to the left of the doors before the man leapt up and slammed into him, sending them both tumbling to the floor. Keelan threw his arms forward to push his assailant back, then gripped the man by both shoulders and pulled him close, losing any semblance of composure. Declan laughed freely as he buried his head in his brother’s shoulder, while Keelan, ever stoic, wept openly and gripped his brother tighter than he ever had as a child.
“You made it, little brother. You’re safe,” Keelan whispered over and over through sobs of unconstrained joy.
Commander Albius stood and walked around his desk to stand beside Ridley. The rugged man who carried the weight of the world—and never smiled—was grinning as broadly as Ridley.
“When you two finish making out, let me know. I’d like Lieutenant Rea’s report.” Albius said with more than a small chuckle in his voice.
Keelan and Declan untangled themselves and ungracefully bumbled their way to their feet. Both brothers wiped fresh tears from their faces and smiled at the mirror image before them.
Keelan finally noticed Declan’s tunic and whistled. “What is that? Your taste in clothes certainly changed while I was gone.”
Familiar childish mischief sparked in Declan’s eyes right before the tunic flared a brilliant gold and the Phoenix virtually flew off his chest. Keelan staggered back a few steps, eyes wide and mouth agape. The tunic dimmed, then returned to Ranger green.
Declan laughed. “Just a souvenir from my trip. You always tell me to bring something back when I go away.”
Keelan’s eyes bugged out of his head, and Declan laughed harder.
“Tell you all about it later. There’s a lot you’ll want to hear.”
Well, that was a mysterious tease, Keelan thought, shaking his head again.
The Captain-Commander cleared his throat meaningfully, and all eyes turned.
“Gentlemen, please sit. I really do need to hear Keelan’s report. The people will start returning in the morning and we don’t have much time to enjoy reunions.” Albius took a seat at the table and motioned for the others to do the same. When Ridley turned to leave, Albius gripped his arm.
“You should stay, Sergeant Doa.”
Ridley’s jaw dropped. “Sergeant? Sir?”
“Don’t question your superiors, Sergeant. Sit.” Albius gave him a tight grin as Keelan patted his shoulder in congratulations. “Now, Keelan, why don’t you bring us up to speed on your investigation and what you found across the border. Then we’ll brief you on our situation here and the preparations underway for the people’s return.”
CHAPTER 30
KEELAN
The next day, Keelan set off on horseback to survey the city’s wounds for himself. Seeing his brother safe and whole had restored his spirit, but the trip through town threatened to rip what remained of his heart out of his chest.
Fewer than one in three houses he passed would survive inspection. Even fewer shops were safe to reinhabit—but they could all be rebuilt. It was the bodies that stole his breath. Everywhere he turned, soldiers, mostly in Melucian blue, lay in impossible poses, legs and arms contorted in unbearable angles, faces frozen—literally—with silent screams pouring from open mouths.
Soldiers died in battle, right? He’d expected those horrors. What he hadn’t expected were the old men and women who’d refused to evacuate when the call had come. Whether afraid to leave their homes or unable to run with failing bodies, the poor and elderly of Saltstone weren’t spared the wrath of Isabel’s army. An hour into his tour, he couldn’t take any more and turned back, face ashen and eyes moist. These were his people. The people he’d given his life to protect.
His heart ached.
Over the next week, Keelan barely sat still for more than a few moments at a time. Albius assigned him command of Guard units clearing roads and securing residential areas for returning citizens. It was impossible work that would only be made easier by the arrival of more strong hands.
Unfortunately, when the first people passed thorough the eastern gate, Keelan realized strong hands wouldn’t follow. Nearly all of the evacuated citizens were women and children. Their men had remained, either serving directly in the army, or supporting the military as blacksmiths or farriers or in other vital roles. Few had survived the bloodshed.
What should’ve been a series of joyous reunions as mothers, daughters, and sons returned home to their husbands and fathers became somber, desperate searches for any hint their loved one still lived. Moreover, the shock of Saltstone’s devastation stabbed deeply into the heart of her already grieving people. Wails and cries were far more common than laughter. Keelan’s men dealt with suicides in waves beyond anything they’d ever seen as pain, grief, and death hung in the air with winter’s bitter chill.
The loss of most of the city’s Mages meant shortages and rationing of even the most basic goods. There were plenty of civilians to bake bread or other foods, but grain stores and stoves had been looted or burned. Water was the only commodity in abundant supply as the river bubbling down from the Silver Mountains offered its clean, crisp bounty.
On Keelan’s order, riders were sent in every direction with missives urging cities and towns throughout Melucia to send food, blankets, and clothing. They needed it all. He knew replies would take a week, with supplies following weeks later—if they were lucky. Luck had been in short supply, as well. Somehow, this desperate throng had to hang on until then, but he couldn’t fathom how they would manage it.
* * *
The next day, Keelan was juggling a line of messengers when a cart pulled through the compound’s gate. The smell of fresh bread reached him long before the cart, and his eyes widened. Declan sat beside the cart’s driver, golden tunic aglow, causing every Guard within eyesight to pause whatever they were doing and gape. They’d all heard stories of the Heir of Magic and his golden tunic, but Declan had holed up in the Mages’ Guild since his initial visit to their Captain-Commander, and few had actually seen him. Seeing the glowing man and his Phoenix was quite different than hearing a fireside tale.
