Age of shadows, p.16
Age of Shadows, page 16
Arijan’s mouth dropped open as she saw the markings on Hope’s hands. ‘I didn’t think there were many left, and yet suddenly two turn up in a matter of days? And we’ve brought them both to our shelter.’
Calestri peered at Toryn. ‘And what of Amyra? Have you done something to her?’
Toryn tried to speak. Eryn held up her hand. ‘Not a word.’ She looked to her companions. ‘One we can handle, but if these two join forces, they could become a handful.’ She pointed at Toryn. ‘Get that rope over there and tie her hands behind her back. Then turn around, put your hands out, and stand still.’
Toryn let his head rest against the post. He gazed at the stars thankful Eryn had not thought it necessary to place a sack over his head. But they had gagged them both, bound their hands and feet, and secured them to a stake in the middle of the settlement. Yet, even if he could speak, he doubted Hope would respond. She had shown no signs of recognizing him and seemed to accept her predicament without as much as a shrug.
A shadow moved across the sliver of yellow light coming from one of the huts. An Amayan approached. The torchlight picked out Calestri’s red hair. She kneeled and checked their bonds. Toryn caught her eye. She scowled. ‘Don’t you look at me. And not a word when I take off your gag. Agreed?’ He nodded. Calestri removed his gag and held a flask to his lips. She glanced back to the hut. ‘We haven’t decided what to do with you yet, but know this, I don’t think the world will grieve much for the loss of two wykes.’
Toryn’s shoulders sagged as she strolled back inside. He had left home a little over three months ago. In that time, he had walked well over a hundred leagues, yet while he had seen many strange and wonderful sights, he had achieved nothing — absolutely nothing. And what of the wide world outside the forest? Had the Archon opened the gate as Harruld and Odrun suspected? The realms could be celebrating a momentous victory… or mourning a devastating defeat. Yet, stuck in the midst of the Foranfae, it could be many months before he would know. And what if the Amayans chose to do the land a favor and rid it of two miserable wykes?
Toryn tipped back his head and looked up to the night sky. Was his mother outside after a meagre evening meal and watching the same stars? He closed his eyes and let his head drop. Had the knights not come to his village, he would still be laying fences and tending to the fields and animals. He had rarely felt content with his life, but at this moment, he would gladly swap places with the younger Toryn, oblivious to much of the world and its troubles beyond the borders of his small home.
Toryn’s breath caught in his throat — a foul taste filled his mouth. Behind, Hope stiffened.
18. THE BURDEN OF BLOOD
Elodi sat in the chair at the head of the long table in the Great Hall. She gathered her thoughts as she awaited the arrival of the rider sent to Toryn’s village. Could this young man the enemy had seen fit to capture, bring them hope? She closed her eyes. Her head still refused to settle after her speedy retreat from the pass. It had been close… awfully close. Another few moments, and Elodi and her knights would have ridden headlong into a large force of Ruuk, determined to block her escape from the mountain pass. And as she well knew, they desired to take her in chains back to the north — and she dreaded to contemplate the torment a ruler of a realm could expect at their hands.
Elodi opened her eyes and looked to the high ceiling and exhaled. She had been prepared to take her own life rather than allow herself to be seized. But thanks to the speed of their horses, they had made the open plain moments before the trap could be closed. The advancing Ruuk had obviously failed to spot her flight to safety, as they had rushed up the pass and failed to pursue. A few leagues later, Elodi had met with the hundred-strong re-enforcements hastening from Calerdorn to Tunduska. She had issued a new command: they were to attack the rear ranks of the Ruuk, exploiting the narrowest parts of the pass to negate the enemy’s advantage in numbers. Elodi took grim satisfaction that the unsuspecting Ruuk would be the ones trapped in the gap.
Elodi looked to Wendel at her side. He read her impatience. ‘The rider is on her way, ma’am. She’s coming straight from the stables. I believe her horse is exhausted.’
Elodi’s fingers drummed the armrests on her chair. ‘I’m not surprised. She has made good progress. Her horse would give Sea Mist a close race.’ She straightened. ‘Now, remind me, the rider's name please, Wendel?’
Her advisor looked to the notes before him. ‘Lena, ma’am.’ He peered into her eyes. ‘Are you sure you’re up to this? I could have her report to me.’
‘I am sure. And if there’s the slightest ray of hope from what Lena has learned of this young man, then it will aid my recovery.’ The door opened. Her officer nodded. Elodi took a deep breath and stood. ‘Please, send her in.’ Her heart raced as the rider strode across the hall. Dust and grime from the road clung to the woman’s face and clothes, but she held herself tall despite her obvious fatigue. Elodi held out a hand in welcome.
The rider hesitated. ‘I must inform you, ma’am, I’ve yet to wash the journey from my person.’
Elodi grasped and firmly shook the rider’s hand. ‘And for that, I apologize. It was I who insisted you delivered your report the moment you returned.’ She looked down to Lena’s hand still in hers. ‘And no need to be concerned. I’m no stranger to the wilds.’ She motioned to the rider. ‘Please, sit. I have arranged accommodation where you can freshen up and eat shortly. But first, I would like a brief report. We will discuss your visit more at length after you’ve rested.’ Elodi joined Lena at the table. ‘You made the journey in quick time. How is your horse?’
Lena relaxed. ‘Tempest is well, if very tired. But he’s a proud one, ma’am. He’d have refused if I’d tried to make him rest.’ She laughed. ‘I’m certain he’ll be boasting to the other horses in the stables as we speak.’
‘Tempest has much to boast about. But please, I’m impatient to know of your visit to Midwyche. Do tell me what you have learned of this man, Toryn.’
Lena shuffled in her seat. ‘I’m afraid I cannot be sure which of the numerous accounts of this young man I’ve heard, is the truth.’
Elodi gripped her seat. ‘How do you mean?’
‘According to the marshal, a man who goes by the name of Drakelow, he was a deserter who fled when chosen for the Archonian Guard. To others, he was a quiet, surly lad who kept to himself, and they were glad to see the back of him, whether leaving with the guard, or fleeing at the first sign of duty. But all assumed I was there to have the man arrested.’
Elodi looked to Wendel. ‘He doesn’t sound like what I’d anticipated.’ She turned to Lena. ‘And others? Did you find another view of this man?’
‘That I did, ma’am, but her story somewhat muddies the water.’
Elodi sighed. ‘I would expect nothing less during these strange times. Please, continue.’
‘I eventually spoke to his mother, Miram. Or to be more precise, the woman who raised him as her own. But note, I was not informed by the marshal that Toryn’s folks had a farm in the village. The woman came to me… at night.’
‘Interesting.’ Elodi caught Wendel’s eye. ‘You’d think a rider carrying instructions from Calerdorn would gain the marshal’s full cooperation.’
‘I wouldn’t be too hard on him, ma’am.’ Lena blushed. ‘Oh, apologies, I’m not saying how you should—’
Elodi waved away her apology. ‘Please, not necessary. But I would appreciate why you think the marshal acted as he did.’
‘I believe he’s trying to protect the village from outside interference. But I’m getting ahead of myself. The mother once satisfied I was there under your command, confided Toryn was abandoned in the nearby woods as a baby. She had brought him up, and while she admitted he could be difficult at times, she insisted he was no coward and hadn’t run away, in fact, he was desperate to join the Archonians. No, ma’am. He was advised to leave by an old guard going by the name of Hamar.’ Lena clenched her hands. ‘You see, ma’am. It appears this young man was the son of a wyke.’
Elodi gasped. ‘A wyke!’
Lena straightened. ‘Miram insisted he had to be one of the good ones… if they exist. He’d never hurt a soul, his palms had no markings, and he showed no signs of doing any tricks of sorts.’
Elodi gaped at Wendel. ‘But even so, to be the son of a wyke casts doubt on whether he would be of use to us. Could he be in league with the—?’
Wendel held up his hand. ‘Perhaps, ma’am’ — he glanced to Lena — ‘this is an issue to discuss later.’ He addressed the rider. ‘Have you anything more to report?’
Lena’s eyes dropped to the table. ‘I do. It seems, ma’am, you’re not the only person interested in this young man.’
Elodi recovered her composure. ‘How so?’
‘As I said, I stayed overnight to allow Tempest to recover before making the return journey. When I went to the stables the next morning, another horse had come in the night. I was struck by the fine saddle, the finest I’ve ever seen. This was no ordinary traveler, and I assumed one from outside Harlyn. So, I went to see the marshal to inquire and was met by a rider from Archonholm.’
‘Archonholm?’ Elodi looked to her advisor. ‘Then it seems we were right to take an interest in this fellow if Archonholm is also curious.’ She turned to Lena. ‘Did this rider elaborate on their purpose?’
‘No, ma’am, and if you don’t mind me saying, he was most aloof, barely acknowledged my presence.’
Elodi sighed. ‘Sadly, that does not surprise me.’
‘I presented your decree granting me your authority, but he just laughed, dismissing my questions as an inconvenience. He claimed he outranked me, ma’am, as he had instructions from the Archon himself.’
Elodi sprang up. ‘How dare he! How dare the Archon claim such authority in my realm.’ She staggered into the table as her head spun.
Wendel took her arm. ‘Steady, ma’am.’ He helped her back into her seat. ‘And again. Perhaps…’ He glanced to the rider. ‘This is an issue to be discussed later.’
Elodi’s vision settled. ‘Thank you, Wendel.’ And then to Lena. ‘Your effort and that of Tempest are much appreciated.’ She rose, but carefully this time. ‘We shall speak again, but for now I insist you retire to freshen up, eat and rest. My man will show you to your quarters.’
‘It is my pleasure to serve, ma’am.’ Lena nodded to Wendel and followed Elodi’s officer to the door.
Elodi slumped back into her chair and brought her hands to her face. ‘What am I to do, Wendel? Is this Toryn fellow a threat or a possible ally? The guards rescued from the woods seemed convinced he’s a good man, and one taken by force by this Uleva creature.’
Wendel sat beside her. ‘It seems the more answers we find, the more questions we need to ask.’
She let out a long breath. ‘And why the visit from Archonholm? Midwyche is but a backwater, the Archon must have the same reason as us to send one of his men. But wait. How did Archonholm find out about Toryn? Either news of events at Durran has reached their ears, or… could they be holding him?’
Wendel shrugged. ‘I doubt we’ll find out any time soon. If this young man is in Archonholm, and the Archon appears keen to find out more, then there must indeed be something about this fellow.’
Elodi stood. ‘And isn’t the attitude of the Archon just typical. War or not, the Archon cannot dismiss my representative with such impunity. Do I not have any powers in my own realm, Wendel? Is this how he sees me?’ She fixed her eyes on her trusted advisor. ‘I may be new to this role, but he cannot ride roughshod over my authority. He certainly would not have done this to one of my father’s riders. We tolerate him recruiting for his guard, but that is for the safety of all the realms… but this? He has abused his powers this time, and I will not stand for it.’
◆◆◆
The stiff breeze brought the chill down from the north onto the walls of Calerdorn, but not what Elodi desired most; a report from Tunduska’s Gorge. Her eyes were drawn to the angry, dark skies above the Dornan Mountains. Should the plan to trap the Ruuk from the south turn out to be a success, she desired to push north, forcing the Ruuk out of the pass altogether. Once secured, they could strike onto Draegnor Bridge, possibly taking back the fort to gain a foothold at the border. But she was getting ahead of herself — holding Tunduska was her immediate concern. And how many more men would die just to clear the pass north of the gorge? But thankfully, heavy rains had flooded Mawlgrim Mire, making it nigh on impossible for more Ruuk to cross. At last, the weather appeared to favor Harlyn.
Elodi looked out to the flickering torches of the workers on the plain as they neared completion of the defenses. Returning from the pass, she had been impressed by the trenches and spikes; she would not relish attacking such a formidable position. But Uldrak appeared not to worry about such things. Her eyes wandered across the heavy weapons lining the front of the wall outside of the gate. Should she have withdrawn them to behind the high walls? But as both Gundrul and Ruan had stated, all Uldrak’s army had to do was to keep them confined in the city. And if Uldrak took the docks, cutting off the vital supplies brought in by Captain Horace onboard the Celestra, all within would starve within a month, possibly sooner.
Elodi rested her hands on the cold stone and chastised herself. She had to stop doubting every decision once made. Housing the weapons outside the city afforded greater range. And it had to be the right course to hold Tunduska’s Gorge. If the north spilled through with their siege weapons, they could blockade Calerdorn, preventing her exit, then rampage through her realm, sowing fear and discord in their wake.
She reached the end of the parapet and looked out over the plain in the direction of Dorlgoth. And what of the old man, Dohl? If he lived, was it as Dohl or Dorlan? Elodi was certain he had returned to Dorlgoth in the guise of Dorlan where the folk would have been only too happy to follow him. But where had he led them? Two hundred people could not easily move across the wide plain of Dorn without being noticed. Elodi’s stomach churned. Was he yet aided by Uleva’s dubious crafts? Could she conceal a makeshift army of devoted followers? And if the prospect of a legendary hero taking the side of their foe was not enough, she had to deal with the Archon. Her father had said little of his private thoughts on their great leader, but even as a young child, she had perceived his misgivings.
Elodi turned and walked back along the wall, glancing back to the torches forming into a line as the workers finished for the day. She yearned to ride Sea Mist out of the gate, deep into her realm. While the blood of her father demanded she stay to serve the people of Harlyn, her mother’s Amayan lineage insisted she roam the land before her roots took hold and bound her forever to Calerdorn.
Her shoulders had slumped. Elodi forced herself to stand tall and face the north. The Lady Harlyn would not bend to the threat. She had the tenacity and boldness of her mother in her veins, and the courage and devotion of her father in her heart — she could not let her people down. If her parents watched from some other world, she was not about to disappoint them.
19. FROM THE BOWELS OF THE EARTH
Hope groaned, writhing against the post. Toryn spat as best he could into the gag but could not rid the foul taste from his mouth. He shot a glance across the clearing to the stockade. A shadow! Two, then another moved. He cried out, wrestling with the rope, but the gag stifled his warning, and the bonds held him tight. The gate rattled. Toryn checked the huts. The Amayans slept. Did they not keep watch? They must have considered themselves safe deep inside the forest, even with two wykes for company.
Hope tugged against the rope. Toryn kicked at the ground, desperately trying to make a sound. He would rather die at the hands of an Amayan, than by some foul means of whatever ghoulish creatures creeped up on them in the night. The gate cracked. A head of a large axe glinted in the gap. It twisted, withdrew, and swung again. The second blow splintered along the grain down the entire length of the wood. It collapsed as a large boot kicked the damaged plank aside. Toryn twisted away as the stench poured through the breached defenses.
The ground beneath Toryn warmed. The post at his back grew hot. Hope’s mumbling changed. Either she had shaken her gag free, or her voice sounded in his head. A part of him knew the words. He joined in.
The doors of the huts burst open. The three Amayans leaped out. Their swords glowed like the rising sun as they rushed the invaders. Toryn recognized the squat forms of two Ruuk. They braced to meet the Amayans but were no match. Toryn stared as Arijan sprung. Her blade flashed a brilliant, yellow arc as it slashed across the first intruder’s neck. It cried out, snatching at the air but missing Arijan as she flipped and rolled away. Eryn hurdled a rock, dropped, then slid across the damp grass, slicing her sword across the back of the Ruuk’s leg, then thrust up. He dropped, dead before he hit the ground. Calestri lunged at the second, driving her sword deep into its gut to finish it with one strike.
Toryn relaxed. But Hope’s muttered words rose to a chant. The Ruuk were defeated: what troubled her? He glanced to the gate and groaned — the pair were just the advanced party, expendable, sent in to destroy the gate and distract the defenders. Five dark figures strode in; one struggled to control a long, iron rod attached to a creature on the ground. Toryn forced his body up to see. But he knew before he saw it. He choked on the reek, that deep within, he knew and feared. The Amayans looked up from the dead Ruuk, leveling their blades to face the new threat, one that would challenge their fabled skills: five Nordleng… and a droog.
Eryn whispered in the silence. ‘Spread out. We’re Amayan warriors. We won’t let them take us.’ But Toryn could hear doubt in her words. The heat at his back grew. The Nordleng handling the droog, chuckled as the distorted, glistening worm writhed, sensing the sweet scent of its prey. Toryn choked on the bile rising in his throat. He could only watch in dread as the creature slithered towards Eryn. She crouched and edged away, holding her sword back and up with the tip poised at her temple. The droog’s stomach-churning slathering rose as the handler steered it towards Eryn. Calestri and Arijan fought the Nordleng but always with an eye on the droog. Arijan dropped and swept the legs away from her foe with a kick, finishing him with a blow to his neck. She rushed to aid Calestri, struggling against two determined opponents. But Toryn could not take his eyes from Eryn as she sought to anticipate the droog’s inevitable lunge. It lifted its blunt head and quivered, sending ripples down its bloated, gray body. The droog’s large eyes flickered a dull yellow in its large skull as its drooling mouth gaped wider. The Nordleng handler skidded on the damp grass, grappling with the rod as he fed more freedom to the worm as it closed on Eryn.
