The Dark Disciple (The Daybreak Saga Book 2)

by Dan Neil

  Keia decided to switch topics. “How are you enjoying your stay?”

  “It’s not quite the vacation I need, I’m afraid. The king has business we must attend to—a meeting of the Grand Council to discuss matters of the kingdom with the lords and ladies of the provinces.”

  “Ah.”

  “Myrddin’s treason has caused the king quite a bit of grief.” Stern grimaced. “I understand that it has likely caused you some as well.”

  Keia nodded. “It’s strange to miss him, isn’t it? But he was an excellent teacher. I don’t think I would have lasted in the King’s Militia if not for him.”

  “It isn’t strange at all. He gave no signs of his betrayal—and none were betrayed more than the king and yourself. I’m sure it’s been quite a stressful transition.”

  Keia quietly said, “It just doesn’t make any sense. First Aleister, then Carter and Aliya, and now Myrddin—I thought at least one of them would stay with me.”

  “Your family will return to you if Aion wills it. But never underestimate the strength of your own will.” He stood. “Now, I’m afraid I must be getting back to my dearest Olga. It truly is an honor to meet you, Lady Atlos. I hope we meet again.”

  “I’m sure we will.” She smiled. “Well met, Stern.”

  Keia swore his lips curved upwards for just a moment as he left. Another two hours flew by in Genevieve’s Garden while she absorbed as much fresh air as she could. Before long, night was falling. She walked to 167 Sacrifice Road.

  Lord Keenig’s words flashed through her head: ‘Your oath must be held above all else.’

  In her heart, Keia knew that she couldn’t heed his advice. She would leave Genievon to save her family, alone or not, after the King’s Tourney.

  Chapter 25

  The March of Mages

  Day 5 of the Season of Life, 1020 YAR

  Scipion and Eritar led the horsemen in front of the infantry. Zel Ilear Germaine made sure that her own unit would be the first to emerge from the eastern border of the Nibaran Forest. The trees were dense, making maneuvering on horseback difficult. Worse, there was little to graze on—especially so close to the Madros River, which flooded over once a year.

  Zel Ilear Germaine led her horses to the grassy fields outside the forest while the infantry poured out, almost as happy as the mounts.

  As soon as Scipion dismounted from Eritar, the creature bucked and ran happily to the other horses to feed. Matalo let his horse run free as well. Scipion hailed Echo Moniz, who was fast approaching.

  “The first settlement is just east of here,” Scipion explained. “I want your scouts to learn whether they have been attacked or not. Once we get close to any settlement, dispatch your scouts and find out if they need assistance or are under attack. If you beat New Dawn there, warn everyone to evacuate—tell them Anton Day is heading south.”

  “Understood,” Echo replied. “I’ll send a few men that way and let you know when they return.”

  “Within the week, I hope.”

  With a nod, Echo said, “Of course. The settlement of which you speak is the Red Rock Camp, I believe. My scouts can ride there and back within three days. I’ll return to you with the specifics, of course. The other spies we sent out before we crossed should also return soon.”

  Scipion nodded. “Thank you. Tell the departing to ride true, and notify me whenever any of them arrive.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Echo walked away.

  Scipion turned and watched as Matalo emptied the wine from his bag.

  “Which way will you go?” Matalo asked his friend after he wiped the spare liquid from his lips. “To the south, where we can ride along the river, or to the east, where we could find him and keep him from destroying any villages?”

  “If only we could do both,” Scipion mused. “If we give him chase directly, he will always be one step ahead of us. But the biggest advantage we have is that we know exactly where he is going. We can block his path if we focus on the objective.”

  Matalo shook his head. “You’re being too cautious. The sooner we destroy him, the better. He’ll waste time in the settlements. You’re underestimating his cruelty.”

  “I underestimate nothing. His cruelty is exactly why we need to get in front of him,” Scipion countered. “We get one shot at this—we cannot put ourselves in a bad position. We can’t fight him on his terms.”

  “Your plan, then, is to outmaneuver him?”

  “Exactly,” Scipion said. “These lands are King Logan’s; we are here to prove that. If they want to get to Grythos, they’ll have to fight. If we give them chase, even if we hunt them down, they can bleed us dry, scatter, and regroup as necessary. We must stand in their way.”

  “I do hope Anton hasn’t involved Julius’s force. If they brought both armies to bear on us, we’d be doomed.”

  “Indeed. Though his brother should be busy gathering his own harvests. Otherwise, they will consolidate their power without fail, and we will stand no chance against their combined army—which, by then, will have faded into the Grythos sands anyway.”

  They were approached by Zel Daved and Mathieu Tyronus, both eager to speak to their leader.

  “Scipion,” Zel Daved began, “the men are quite famished after the day plowing through the mud. Should we let them eat, or will we be resuming the march?”

  “Let them eat. We’re taking a short break, and then we’ll be on our way before nightfall. We’re not going to sleep tonight, I’m afraid.”

  The Valkhar nodded. “Just the way I like it.”

  Mathieu asked, “Why is that? I hope we will stop to sleep at some point.”

  “We will make with one night’s and one day’s march before we rest,” Scipion answered. “Anton Day is ahead of us. We need to be ahead of him. Do you think your men could help with that?”

  “Of course,” Mathieu enthusiastically replied. “My mages are from the Gaion, founded by Vonn the Great himself. We may only number thirty, but each of us knows constructive and destructive magic.”

  “I hope to use it effectively. What spells do you know that are common amongst your group?”

  Mathieu pulled out a small, wooden wand. “What would you like to see?”

  Matalo leaned forward. “Show us fire!”

  Mathieu nodded and moved his wand in a small circle, creating a ring of fire that floated.

  Heat flashed past Scipion, Matalo, and Zel Daved, who were each awed. The air filled with a smoky scent as the magical flame swirled endlessly into itself.

  Mathieu ceased the spell and smiled. “That was just a demonstration. We’d have to clear out sections of the army if you want me to use it to the fullest.”

  Scipion smiled. “That will not be necessary—I trust your valuation of your skills. What other spells do you know? I need to understand what your mages are capable of.”

  “We can move the earth, bend the seas, control the skies, summon flame and thunder, and quicken time; we can lift objects or speak through our minds, and a few of us can go through portals. We are capable of many things, Scipion. It’s difficult to speak in specific terms of such general matters.”

  “I understand,” the Scorpion Knight replied. “I only need to know so that I can plan to your strengths. Anton will not have mages from the Gaion; so, that is a major advantage for our side. You said that you could quicken time?”

  “Yes, within an area.”

  “So it makes things within that area go faster, compared to everything else?”

  Mathieu shrugged. “I suppose you could think of it like that.”

  “Could you make the army march faster?” Scipion asked.

  Rubbing his chin, Mathieu replied, “It’s been done before, though we’d have to plot our course well. The spell is difficult, and the mages will tire out if they use it too often. They’ll need rest before
we meet New Dawn.”

  “I don’t need them to use it the entire time—this night, and perhaps another. We’re going to travel to Bottleneck Pass and wait for Anton Day.”

  Mathieu’s head tilted. “Bottleneck Pass?”

  Zel Daved explained, “It’s the ground between the River Leiesna and the Madros Southern Channel. He’ll never expect us to lap him, but we’ll have to move rather quickly. If we can, he’ll be completely cut off. Nothing but his army, his Nertha, and his wits. I like it, Scorpion Knight.”

  “We’ll beat them there,” Mathieu added. “My mages will see to that.”

  Matalo asked, “Does this mean that we won’t send aid to settlements in Anton’s path?”

  Silence fell over the group.

  Scipion answered after a few uncomfortable seconds, “We need to focus on the best way to eliminate Anton. If we don’t, many more people in Grythos will suffer and possibly join them. We can prevent that.”

  Matalo crossed his arms. “By sacrificing every settlement between here and the rivers?”

  “This is war, son,” Zel Daved said. “If we lived in a world where we could save them all, we wouldn’t be here, outnumbered in enemy territory, arguing about whether we should follow them like a bunch of fools or let them come to us like an army that knows what it’s doing.”

  “We should clearly destroy them,” Matalo reasoned, “and we should do it on our terms. Our terms involve protecting the people. Don’t they, Scipion?”

  “Ours do,” Scipion replied. “Not the king’s. He wants Anton Day dead, and we have to take the wisest approach to that.”

  “If these truly are his lands, he would protect them!” Matalo cried out. “He would order us to their aid.”

  “He would, but these are not the king’s lands yet,” Mathieu replied. “Not until we destroy New Dawn. Until then, this is their territory.”

  “Besides,” Zel Daved added, “we don’t have the manpower to be sending aid to every village in his path, even if we could reach them in time—which, in a lot of cases, we can’t.”

  “And how many will join our cause if we let their fields burn?” Matalo asked.

  The Scorpion Knight understood why Matalo was so frustrated with this plan, but it was their best hope of defeating Anton Day. Scipion said to his friend, “We have sent advance parties of scouts out to warn those very villages. Hopefully, they will heed the warning and escape north.”

  Matalo frowned. Scipion continued.

  “If we go to Bottleneck Pass, I know we will defeat him—because retreat will not be an option for him. If we battle him out here, he might escape and raise another army with his brother’s help. As long as he’s ahead of us, we won’t be able to stop him, no matter how far we chase. Those people will still die. We need to be in front of him.”

  Matalo sighed and shook his head. “You’re thinking far ahead, Scipion. That’s what makes you so smart. You’re in charge while we look for prime battle estate, but I wouldn’t expect too much sympathy from the folks of the Rolling Plains after their settlements are burned.”

  Scipion nodded. “We will wait to determine if any settlements need our help when Echo’s scouts return. If there is any indication of danger, we will send scouts to villages that he has yet to visit and warn them. For now, we will march for a night and a day. Then we will sleep and wait for more scouts so that we can know what kind of numbers and horses we’re up against. Now is the time to press forward. We must gain ground on them if this is going to work.”

  Matalo nodded. “I trust you, Scipion. You know I do.”

  “I’m sure that I could rile the men up for another night,” Zel Daved said. “It won’t be easy, but they’ll understand when they hear the plan.”

  “Then it’s settled.” Scipion stood. “We march tonight and tomorrow, and then we can sleep the next night.”

  —

  The soldiers groaned when they were told of their continuing march, but after they heard the mages would quicken time, they became excited. It added a strange element of transcendence to their mission, as if time itself would bend to their will to help them complete a fated quest.

  Many of these men never saw magic before and marveled at the bright lights that shone from the mages’ wands. Their environment seemed to run in the opposite direction of their march. The sounds of their armor clanking against the floor of the Rolling Plains filled the night as the sun fell and rose once more, but still, they continued at an impossible speed. Scipion was filled with wonderment as the Rolling Plains sailed by.

  When the mages were exhausted, the infantry passed time by telling stories, but most fell into a dull silence before long. Scipion and Matalo were too tired to speak. The soldiers yearned for sleep as the day progressed. Scipion knew his army was quite exposed while they wearily marched on, but there was little choice. They made much better progress than he anticipated, and he was pleased to see the distance they had already covered by the time the sun came up. Still, they pressed on.

  —

  When the army made camp the next night, Scipion held a war council. Mathieu, Zel Yano Zel Daved, Zel Ilear, Douglas, Denna, Echo, and Matalo were present and tired.

  “Thank you for gathering at this ungodly hour,” Scipion said as Matalo yawned. “I know we would all like to sleep; so, we will finish this as quickly as possible. Echo, your scouts will be returning to us either tomorrow or the next day, correct?”

  Echo dutifully responded, “One of the two groups will arrive with certainty. One of my scouts knows a bit of magic; so, I’ve been telling him to adjust his course. Hopefully, he can relay the message to the others.”

  “Excellent. Our men and horses will rest and fill their bellies, and then we will set out again. If we were to march for another two days with your spell active, we would be at Bottleneck Pass. I didn’t think it would be that effective, but I can’t argue with our place on the map.”

  “What if we get to Bottleneck Pass, and Anton is nowhere close to arriving?” Matalo asked.

  “That is the information we will learn from the scouts,” Scipion replied. “It won’t be too long before we know whether we should continue our path or meet him at some prior destination. Either way, we need to put ourselves between him and his goal. He won’t abandon the Nertha.”

  Zel Daved chimed in. “Our men are well supplied. We’ll have no problem waiting him out if the need arises.”

  “We should not wait too long,” Zel Ilear said. “If he manages to send word to Julius, we lose.”

  Matalo said, “I agree. We have a defensive strategy, but we also need to be a little aggressive. Anton is likely not as well supplied as us and has many more mouths to feed. He will be hungry and desperate.”

  “There is a time to dig in,” Scipion agreed, “and a time to fight. We will find out which describes our current situation. If we arrive early, we could fashion fortifications and further capitalize on our advantage.”

  “My mages could help with that!” Mathieu said. “We could create barricades or move materials around for assembly.”

  “We shouldn’t be too hasty to make plans,” Echo said. “For all we know, New Dawn is planning an attack before we reach River Leiesna. Our plans will most likely change when we hear what the scouts have to say.”

  Scipion nodded. “It seems that there is not much we can currently do. For now, I think we could all use some rest. Tomorrow we will march, and perhaps we will be able to formulate a better plan with more information.”

  The others shuffled out of the tent, making toward their beds. Scipion stared at the icon representing Anton Day on the war table’s map. A chill ran up his spine to remember when he was in the Day brother’s grasp. Scipion resolved to meet Anton on different terms than last time.

  Chapter 26

  Premonition

  Day 7 of the Season of Life, 1020 YAR


  Wrecked with nerves the morning of her fight, Keia placed Valiance before her and meditated to ease her mind. Gaea took longer than usual to speak, much to her annoyance. Eventually, the familiar blue light washed over her. Within, the image of a shadowy entity enveloped Symon’s kingdom, creeping through cracks in a magical wall thought to be impregnable. Dark tendrils took root in Genievon and branched out. Countless bodies rose in the night, their stares like glass.

  All just like Lorinal. Awake, but not conscious—not themselves…

  The entity rapidly spread, changing people into mindless puppets. Every path converged on Gladios Arena. Keia floated above Genievon and saw herself below, engaged in battle. She was fighting Devin, who was rapidly shifting forms, from Carter to Aliya, to Ulrich to Lorinal, to the figure from her nightmares.

  Keia’s nightmare ignored the battle and met the real Keia’s eyes. He snapped his fingers, and the entire arena was consumed by fire. Every spectator, innocent or otherwise, was extinguished in an instant. Nothing was untouched by the crimson sea except the figure. He extended an arm toward her.

  “They’re already gone, Keia,” replied the voices of Aliya, Carter, Myrddin, Lorinal—and one other person—in unison. “We’re all already gone. Soon, you will be, too.”

  The figure shapeshifted once more, and now, Aliya stood before Keia, arms spread wide.

  Aliya pleaded, “Come home, Keia. You have to come home.”

  “I—I am home, you’re the one who—”

  Trembling, Keia noticed that their surroundings were different. The sisters stood in the heart of Greerwood Forest. Her face frostbitten and gray and her eyes missing, Aliya extended her hand. “Come home, Keia.”

  Keia looked on in horror as the entire world melted; everything fell out of shape and blended into a single amorphous mass while the figure laughed, his exuberant howls—and screams, so many screams—filling the void where everything once was.

  Keia jolted awake, cold sweat chilling her skin, every breath leaving her lungs wanting. She gulped down air, pulse throbbing in her ears. This vision felt more real than any before. She had to tell someone what she saw.