War (Guardians of The Realm Book 3)

by Amanda Fleet

  “Is that why you have crooked ribs on your left?” he said. “This has happened before?”

  I nodded, already pleasantly warm and fuzzy from the pain medication. “Have you got the bone-setting salve ready? You need to do one rib at a time. I won’t manage to stay steady if you do all three at once. Do the middle one first? Maybe it will stop the rest from moving around so much.”

  My broken ribs were the most lined up at the end of a breath out. Not the best starting point, given I would have to hold that breath for a good thirty seconds. I indicated to Faran when he could apply the salve. It took every ounce of my strength and self-control to maintain my posture while the agony ripped through me. The pain relief Faran had given me took the edge off it, but it was still excruciating, and I almost blacked out before it eased.

  Healing the middle rib stabilised the other two thankfully, though the process was just as painful. Afterwards, I slumped back to lie flat on the wooden floor, sweat beading on my forehead. “Treat Cenan. I’ll be okay in a minute.”

  Treating Cenan didn’t turn out to be all that straightforward. In fact, Faran was still examining his head by the time I’d recovered enough to sit up.

  “Aeron? Would you look at Cenan for me?”

  I crawled over to them. “What’s up?”

  Faran parted Cenan’s hair to show me. “That bit of his skull moves.”

  “Shit.”

  Faran sat back on his heels and tapped his communications button. “Healer.”

  The line crackled, then a soft female voice answered. “Yes.”

  “It’s Faran. I’m on patrol. One of the team has a skull fracture. There’s no healer here. Should we treat him here, or bring him back to the city?”

  “Describe what you see?”

  “The top left part of his skull moves. A piece about the size made when you touch finger to thumb.”

  “Don’t treat that there. What other injuries does he have?”

  Faran glanced across. “Cenan? Where else are you hurt?”

  Cenan indicated his shoulders and back. Faran stripped his jacket and top off him and we looked at the bruising, poking and prodding as gently as we could.

  “I don’t think there’s anything more serious than bruising,” I said, speaking into Faran’s communications button.

  “Then treat those injuries and bring him here,” said the healer.

  “Thanks, said Faran.”

  He closed the line, and between us, we worked over Cenan’s injuries with salve.

  “Are you still hurt?” I asked Faran while we waited for Cenan to recover.

  “Just bruising. A couple of sticks made contact.”

  Once Cenan’s bruises healed, I treated Faran. Cenan sat on the floor, still woozy, staring vacantly ahead, apparently oblivious to his surroundings. Faran’s breath whistled as he healed, but of the three of us, he was the most unscathed.

  “How many houses still to check?” I asked as he sat back. I didn’t want to go to any of the houses or find any more bodies today, but I wondered if we should.

  Faran sat back on his heels. “Too many. Cenan needs to get back to the city. There’s another problem.”

  “What?”

  “Barsdal is a major beef producer. There’s no one left to tend the beasts.”

  I scraped a hand over my face. I didn’t know much about rearing livestock, but Faran knew zilch. “They’re in fields?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then they have food. We’ll need to check they have water. Shall both of us go? Or one of us stay with Cenan?”

  “Both of us. We can secure Cenan in here.”

  Faran and I scouted out the village and its surroundings. The cattle were okay to be left – they had good grazing and a stream at the edge of the field. We did a rapid survey of the remaining houses, keeping a running total of the dead. Another thirty-eight dead on top of the twenty-four we’d already found and the twenty-plus who’d been left on the road. There was no way we could dig a mass grave for over eighty bodies, even if Cenan wasn’t in urgent need of a healer.

  I stumbled to a halt, the enormity of it crushing me.

  “Faran…” I reached out, my hand grasping for him.

  He stopped and turned to me. I rested my forehead on his shoulder, trying to soak up comfort from him and blank out all the horror. He slipped his arms around me, drawing me closer, allowing a puff of warm air from his clothes to escape. I drank in the cedarwood scent, greedily.

  “I’m here. I have you.” He dusted my temple with light kisses. “Take a minute.”

  It would take much more than a minute for me to get over what I’d seen today. I wormed my hands under the back of his jacket, craving contact, but his fine wool top was tucked firmly into his trousers. I ran my hand up his back, feeling the curves and hollows of his muscles.

  “Sorry. I just need you,” I mumbled against his shoulder.

  “I need you too. You’re the only person who’s ever been able to make me feel better when things are bad.”

  I stayed there as long as I could, but Cenan needed a healer and we had to work out what to do with the men we’d captured. I eased myself away. Faran cocked a brow. “Okay?”

  “No. But we need to get Cenan back to the city.”

  Outside the building, the seven men had regained consciousness and were spitting curses at us, squirming to try to get free from their bindings. Faran eyed them. “Can you check them with your charm-bracelet? See if any of them are demons.”

  I walked past them, keeping an eye on my wrist. Nothing.

  Faran kicked the noisiest of them in the head. The others shrank back, but as soon as we were too far away to kick them, they started yelling again.

  Back with Cenan in the dim room of the house, I hauled in a breath and tapped my communications button. “Lord Sondan. Lord Eredan.” They both answered swiftly. “Updates for you. We were ambushed by seven of the villagers. I don’t know if they’ve been recruited by Aegyir or one of the other demons, but they were ready to kill us. None of them are demons. We have them roped together at the moment. Options for what to do with them? We can’t lock them up here – there’s no one left alive, apart from a young girl who fled during the attack, so no one can watch or feed them.”

  “Walk them back to the city.” Lord Eredan was gruff.

  I flashed a look at Faran who frowned.

  “Really?” I said. “Is there somewhere they can be contained? Otherwise, we’re potentially bringing Aegyir’s slaves into the heart of the city.”

  “They’ll be secured.”

  “How many are dead?” asked Lord Sondan.

  My breath hitched. “We’ve counted over eighty so far. About three-quarters are still in their houses, the others left on the road by whoever killed them. We’ve marked which houses have bodies in them.” I reached out to clutch Faran’s hand. I had worse news to tell. “Lord Sondan, I’m sorry, Cenan was badly injured in the attack and needs to see a healer urgently. We have to get him back to the city soon.”

  “How badly injured? Is he capable of walking?” Lord Sondan’s voice was tight. Unlike Faran and Orian, Lord Sondan and Cenan were very close.

  “No.” I gripped Faran’s hand. “There are barrows here. We can barrow him back if necessary, but I’d prefer it if he could pick a cart up at the road-end.”

  “What happened?”

  “He was hit in the head quite badly.”

  There was a pause before Lord Sondan spoke. “Okay. I’ll organise a cart to pick him up.”

  I tugged Faran closer to me, and he rested his hand against my waist. “Thank you. Also, Barsdal is a beef-centre. Ultimately, they’ll need tending.”

  “Can you raise help from the neighbouring villages?” Lord Eredan asked.

  “I don’t know.” A rumbling sound came from outside the building and Faran left me to peer through a window. He stepped out, and I heard him draw his sword. “Hang on. I think we have incoming.” I tapped my communications button again, c
losing the line, and went to join Faran. What now?

  A group of villagers stood about twenty feet away, Ulfa at the front, pointing, her yells mingling with the shouting from the seven men tied to the fence. Were these new guys from Barsdal? Relatives of the seven men?

  A youngish man in the group took half a pace towards us. “Ulfa said Guardians slaughtered everyone here.”

  I shifted to stand next to Faran, my sword drawn. “I need this like I need a hole in my head,” I muttered.

  Faran huffed, agreeing. “Perhaps I should speak to them.”

  “Be my guest.”

  He took a step forward but before he could say anything, the villagers scattered. I glanced around. I could see their point. We stood in the middle of a road littered with corpses and seven injured men screeching blue bloody murder.

  “Stay here while I talk to Lord Sondan and your father again?” I said. “You seem big enough and scary enough to make them go away without the need for more bloodshed.”

  I ducked back inside and clicked my communications button. “Sorry about that. Some people from the next village came to see what happened, took one look at how many bodies were piled up around us and fled. I think the girl we found alive is telling them we killed everyone. It’s safe to say that no, we can’t raise help from the neighbouring villages at the moment.”

  “What do you need?” asked Lord Sondan.

  I marshalled my thoughts, my eyes on Cenan who sat on the floor, his head hanging and his eyes unfocused. “I need someone to dig a mass grave. I either need farmers from another village to come and tend the cattle or for the cattle to be taken to another village to join another herd.”

  “Okay. You and Faran walk the prisoners back. Can you get Cenan to the road-end?” said Lord Sondan, his voice shaky.

  I looked across at Cenan. We could barrow him there. Or worst-case scenario, Faran could probably carry him. “Yes.”

  “Good. Take him there and wait until he’s collected, then bring the prisoners to the Torsk gate. Are you and Faran injured?”

  “We were, but we found a healer’s store and used various things.”

  “Get a healer to check you when you get back.”

  “Thank you, Lord Sondan.” I closed the line.

  Back outside, Faran stood tall, watching the street, sword still drawn.

  “Any sign of anyone?” I asked.

  “No. What did Sondan say?”

  “He’s sending a cart to the road-end for Cenan. We’re to walk this lot to the Torsk gate. I hope you know which one that is because I don’t. We need to find a barrow for Cenan. He can barely stand, never mind walk. Can all of these guys walk?” I jutted my chin towards the prisoners. Faran had tied a bandage around the leg of the man I’d hurt.

  “Well enough.”

  “Okay. Can you rope them in a way they can walk but not run off, while I get a barrow? I think I saw one in the house over there.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?”

  “No, it’s within screaming-for-help distance. I’ll be fine.” I flashed him a grin, but we both knew I was faking it.

  Two minutes later, I returned with a wooden hand cart, large enough to carry Cenan. The seven prisoners hurled death stares at Faran, which bounced straight off him. Still snarling and spitting, they struggled with their bindings, but Faran’s skills evidently extended to knot-tying, too. I propped the door open and went inside for Cenan.

  I got Cenan to his feet with difficulty. He stumbled the few paces to the doorway, and his head lolled forwards.

  “I take it I’m pushing Cenan and you’re keeping that lot under control until we have Cenan safely on his way back to the city?” I helped Cenan into the barrow.

  Faran arched a brow. “Can you manage him?”

  “Better than I can manage to keep those seven in check.” At least Cenan was closer to my size, not Faran’s.

  Faran finished roping their ankles so that they resembled a chain-gang. If any tried to make a run for it, they would tangle up with everyone else.

  “Okay. Let’s go.” I picked up the handles of the cart and we set off.

  The seven howled their way to the road-end, but the point of Faran’s sword and the restrictive bindings kept them in check. We stood at the junction between the road into Barsdal and the main route back to the city, waiting for Cenan’s transport. Since we’d checked him over, he’d barely spoken. His eyes had a glassy look, and I wondered if he would survive, even if we got him back quickly. To my relief, transport arrived promptly.

  “Try not to jolt him too much,” I said to the driver. “And he needs to see a healer as soon as he can.”

  The cart trundled away at a brisk walking pace. I hoped Cenan would last the next hour and that a healer would be able to help him. I liked Cenan a lot. Faran and I followed the cart, prodding the prisoners ahead of us.

  “Where’s the Torsk gate?” I hoped it wasn’t far.

  “Two gates farther on after the one we left from. It leads more directly to the area near the technicians’ quarters.”

  My spirits sank at the news. It would be a long walk back – over four miles to the gate we’d left from and another mile to get to the Torsk gate. After that, it would be yet another mile of corridors in the city before we reached the Great Hall, on top of wherever we ended up taking the prisoners. “Where do you think your father is going to put them?”

  Faran frowned. “There’s a large room close to where the technicians work. It was used for leather treatment, but the process was moved out of the city a few years ago because of the fumes. I can’t think of anywhere else they could be secured.”

  Neither of us wanted to talk politics or tactics in front of the prisoners, or about anything personal, which didn’t leave us with much, so we trudged in near silence for most of the way. Well, we were silent. The prisoners kept up a soundtrack of abuse.

  I caught Faran’s fingers and squeezed them. He squeezed my hand back, but from the grim look on his face, he was no more able to blank out images of what we’d seen in Barsdal than I was. The smell of the rotting bodies still clung to my nose, and in every blink, I saw corpses littering the streets.

  The Torsk gate mirrored the other gates to the city – large wooden doors, about twice the height of Faran, held open on solid metal hooks and patrolled by heavily armed Guardians. All traffic into and out of the city had to pass through one of the many gates, and even Guardians needed permission to enter or leave.

  Lord Sondan waited for us just inside the Torsk gate. He stood back from the main fray, his face drawn, his hair disordered.

  “I’ve organised a team to dig a mass grave at Barsdal and to drive the cattle to another village,” he said when we reached him.

  “How’s Cenan?” I asked.

  Lord Sondan’s face fell, and he snatched his gaze away from us for a moment, collecting his breath. “He’s with a healer. I should warn you that it doesn’t look promising.”

  My heart lurched. Faran hugged his friend tightly. “I’m sorry. I should never have suggested him. He was too junior.”

  Lord Sondan clapped Faran’s back and pulled away, close to tears. I rubbed Faran’s shoulder. Behind him, the seven prisoners smiled nastily, and I wanted to punch them.

  “Where are we taking these guys?” I asked Lord Sondan.

  Faran had been right – they would be held in the old leather treatment room. The room had originally held large vats to soak the leather in, but these had been removed, leaving a large empty space. The floor was stone-flagged and the walls whitewashed. Unusually for rooms in the city, there were windows, high up in the walls, though these were barred so securely, only air could enter or leave. Rings had been set in the walls while we were on our way back to the city and guards took the men from us and chained them to the walls. Some of the prisoners spat and cursed at us as they were secured, but one of them laughed. My temper boiled over, and I drove my fist into his face.

  “Aegyir, I will destroy you, you fu
cking bastard!” I yelled in English.

  The others quieted almost instantly. Faran turned to me, a brow raised, but I shook my head. I wanted to teach him English, but maybe not quite so much swearing.

  As the three of us walked towards the Great Hall, I could barely lift my feet. Every muscle ached, and the idea of going back out on patrol filled me with dread.

  “Lord Sondan? Can Faran and I spend some time in the library?” I said. “I want to see if there’s anything in the annals that will help us determine whether non-Guardians have been corrupted. And if there’s anything on how to protect them. One talisman seems like a woefully insufficient form of protection for the entire population of The Realm. It must have come from somewhere. Maybe if we can find out where, we can get more. Protect everyone. I don’t see how we can defeat the demons without warnings of their presence, and more protection.”

  “I need you both on patrol,” said Lord Sondan, though he seemed torn. “You’re the top two Guardians. We’re lucky that Cenan’s alive and that the two of you returned unscathed. Other Guardians might not have been so successful.”

  My heart sank. Faran’s fingers caught mine and from the look in his eye, he wanted to go back out to the provinces even less than I did.

  “Okay,” I said. “But not today? Give us today to look in the library? Even if we ate and immediately went back out on patrol, the day will be gone before we even reach any of the villages. And given what’s happened, I’m not sure what welcome the Guardians will get. I think groups of more than three might be sensible.”

  Lord Sondan turned to his friend. “Faran? Your advice?”

  Faran breathed deeply, his shoulders sagging. “I agree with Aeron about the size of the patrols. Fewer patrols but with more Guardians.”

  “And the library?”

  Faran glanced down at me. “I don’t think we’ll find anything helpful there.”

  My patience thinned. “Well, we certainly won’t if we don’t look! Lord Sondan, may I speak plainly?”

  “Do you do anything else, Lady Aeron?”

  Faran chewed the inside of his cheek, his eyes dancing.

  I gritted my teeth. “I’m tired, sore and hungry. I need a hot shower and to get the stench of death out of my nostrils. I do not want to go back out on patrol under-resourced. Tomorrow, send me wherever you think I can do the most good. But send me out with enough backup after a half-day of rest. Give me the rest of the day to look in the annals?”