Again silence. Then a heavy bolt was drawn back from across the door and the door was pulled open. The inner room was darker even than the night outside and the small company hesitated a moment before entering. Earon motioned them inside, then stepped through the door himself. Tyla started after him, but Jarrett pulled her back, motioning both Kendrick and Muzik forward. Kendrick and Muzik loosened their swords and exchanged glances. Finally, Jarrett and Tyla, with Kian beside them, moved into the foundry.
A click of a pycantra starter echoed in the dark. Jarrett shielded Tyla and Kian’s low growl came out of the darkness beside him. Then a lantern was lit and the light fell on the rough, craggy face of a large man. The man had a dark brown, almost black beard, a crooked, hooked nose and two piercing black eyes. He stepped forward and lifted the lantern first into Kendrick’s face and then into Jarrett’s. Jarrett squinted against the bright light and pulled Tyla further behind him, his hand falling to his sword.
“Well, well.” The stranger’s face burst into a smile. “What have we here, Earon – Nazarien?”
Earon stood to the far left of the little enclosure. They were in a sort of box shaped room with the outer door on one wall and a gigantic gate on the opposite.
“A Terrian and a Nazarien,” was Earon’s reply.
“Well, well,” said the man again. He wasn’t quite as tall as the rest of the men in the company, but he was stocky, his legs slightly bowed with his cumbersome weight. “We don’t see many of your type in this region.” Then he shifted the lantern until it fell on Tyla’s face. He sucked in his breath and let it escape in a long, low whistle. He glanced back at Earon and the runner lifted his eyebrows and smiled, his arms crossed over his chest. “By the light of Eldon’s star,” he said and bowed low, but the bow was filled with mockery. He lifted his lantern into her face again. “Tyla Eldralin – in my keep. Who would have thought? I’m impressed with the company you keep, Earon.”
Tyla lifted her hand and pushed the lantern away. “What’s the meaning of this, Earon? We were brought here to get our promised horses, nothing more. Delay us no longer. Either produce the horses or let us leave.”
The man’s eyes widened, then he glanced back over his shoulder at Earon. Earon shrugged. “Do you not fear me, Tyla Eldralin?” the man said. “Do you know who I am?”
Tyla regarded him for a moment, then shook her head. “No, I don’t know who you are, but I suppose you’re going to make me privy to this knowledge. Truthfully, I’m too tired to fear anyone right now.”
“My name is Revis and I am the leader of the Falcon Revolt, although you’d probably better know us as the Lawries.”
Tyla’s face registered no surprise, although it was evident on the faces of both Kendrick and Muzik.
“You have the right of it. You have no reason to fear me. I know who you are. I know you were Queen of Adishian in name and that this name has been taken from you by Rarick of Sarkisian.” He moved closer and held out his hand. Tyla gave him hers. Her hand seemed lost in the man’s huge grasp. “I welcome you to our headquarters.”
Now Tyla’s face did show a measure of surprise. “Headquarters?”
“Yes, you believed the Lawries were little more than a band of miscreants, didn’t you? You didn’t know we were well organized.”
“You called yourself the Falcon Revolt?”
“Yes, our code name. Actually, we use the Lawries to stir up trouble in the outlying cities of the Protectorates to direct attention away from our main goal.”
“Which is?” asked Jarrett.
Revis glanced at him. “Which is threefold, but I’d like to show you more as I explain our project. Won’t you join me?” he said, and knocked three times against the iron gate leading deeper into the foundry.
The door opened and Revis led the way through, followed by the rest of the company. He took Tyla’s arm and pulled it through his, patting her hand as he did so. The inner door opened up into the vast expanse of the foundry where men were already at work over billows and furnaces, the red glow from their fire radiating out through the grates. The men were heavily muscled and their clothing, faces, and bodies were covered with black soot. The air in the room was close and tasted faintly metallic. It was very warm from the constant fires and the members of the small company felt the need to wriggle out of their parkas, which they slung over their shoulders and continued on.
The men at the furnaces were making weapons of all sorts – spears, arrows with iron tips, and swords. Revis grabbed one as it was hardening in cold water and extended it for the men to admire. Jarrett took its hilt in his hands and hefted it for weight. His eyes studied the keen edge and fine lines of expert make. It was a beautiful blade, well suited for his lean, tall build. He passed it back to Revis without a word and they continued on.
The Falcon leader took them out of the foundry and to rooms in the back where other men, and women now, worked leather, making boots, sheaths for the swords, and quivers for the arrows. Others sewed clothes, light leather armor so skillfully made that it could deflect an arrow. In another room, women sat in a circle, making long shirts of chain mail and in another, weaving blankets of darkly colored wool. As they passed through each of these rooms, the workers lifted their heads and regarded the newcomers, then returned to their work. Tyla was astounded. Everything that Revis showed them had the look and feel of an army making preparations for war.
In the tight rooms of the foundry were not the miscreants that she knew to be the Lawries, the drunken revelers who caused disruptions in the outlying cities of Adishian. These weren’t the men and women who broke windows out of shops and littered the parks and streets with their bodies as they slept off the previous night’s carousing. These were well organized, hard working men and women, who seemed to have a purpose and were risking their very lives for their work.
Tyla turned to Revis and found him staring at her. “You’re amazed, aren’t you, Your Highness?” he said in mocking respect. “You never dreamed the Lawries could be mobilized like this, did you?”
Tyla shook her head.
Revis turned to Jarrett then. “You asked for what purpose earlier. Now I’ll tell you,” he said as he continued walking. “The Lawries began just as you believe they did, a group of disgruntled people, who decided to forsake society as it had forsaken them. I tell you no lie when I say the people of the Protectorates are tired of war and siege. They want a new life, a life of plenty.” He paused and regarded each of them in turn. “The Lawries gave them just that – perhaps not the plenty they envisioned, but a way of unsettling the ruling class. It started in Sarkisian years ago and moved to Adishian. The mission was a simple one,” he said, moving again. “They concerned themselves with stirring up trouble among the loyal citizens, loyal still to the King. Breaking windows, getting drunk – child’s play really, but it was enough to tweak the noses of the ruling class and to keep the soldiers busy.”
“I and a few others envisioned so much more. We envisioned a full scale revolt.” He turned to Tyla and his eyes glowed with the import of his statement. “I said our mission was threefold and so it is – the first being to dethrone Rarick of Sarkisian and see him hanged for his crimes, the second being to dismantle all forms of totalitarian government, and the third to set up a government modeled on the Stravad government in Temeron, a government for the people and ruled by the people, a government for the masses.” His breath came quick and excited.
Tyla eyed him suspiciously.
“We broke the Lawry movement into factions – mine being the Falcon Revolt. We were forced out of Sarkisian, but in Adishian we grew strong. We have thousands of followers, and as you can see, we are mobilizing now for war.” He paused and his eyes took on a haunted light. “And I can tell you we’ll be successful. We’re waiting now for the right time, when Rarick’s back is turned on Adishian and Sarkisian, and his troops are concentrated on Dorland. Rarick thinks Adishian is subdued and in his pocket after the King’s death and your deposal, but he
’s wrong. We’re waiting, a seething, frothing, growing force that will crush him.”
He paused inside a storage locker, the walls lined from floor to ceiling with stores of all types – weapons, foodstuff, barrels of ale and casks of beer, and clothing.
“Aren’t you afraid you’ll be discovered? Rarick’s searching the entire city for us, and he and his advisors are looking over all the old ledgers,” said Kendrick.
“We’re very resourceful,” said Revis. “In your packs, do you not carry Guardsmen uniforms? And are you not seeking Guardsmen horses?” His gaze shifted to Earon and the runner nodded. “We come and go as we please, disguised as Adishian and Sarkisian soldiers, now Guardsmen. We go to the front lines and retrieve their uniforms, weapons and horses, we even retrieve their names for our use. It’s a complex ruse and one that keeps us alive. Think of it,” he said, leaning close, his face lined with tension. “Would Rarick ever expect to be struck from within – struck by men wearing his uniforms, bearing his emblem, and riding his horses?” He winked at Tyla. “You wonder how we accomplish all this, don’t you?”
She nodded.
“Again we’re very resourceful.” He reached up and pressed a spot on the wall behind one of the crates. The wall itself swung out into the room, a false front that led back into a steep ramp of earth. Revis led the way, his lantern casting eerie shadows on the walls of the cave. “We built these under here, completely hidden from anyone’s sight.” Tunnels stretched on and on in all directions, winding back and disappearing from view. Some of the tunnels opened up into rooms, which were choked with uniforms and weapons taken off the dead bodies of both Adishian and Sarkisian soldiers. “These catacombs stretch far under the city on all sides and we’re still working on some,” he said as he halted in one of the tunnel entrances and looked down. A handful of men, stripped naked to the waist, worked in the tunnel, widening and lengthening it with pickaxes and shovels. “We could hide down here for days before anyone would think to come looking for us. In some of the tunnels, we’ve stored non-perishables.”
They came upon a row of stables, set back into the walls of the catacombs. Horses nickered from the shadows and Revis lifted his lantern so the company might peer inside. Some were Guardsmen horses, their ivory white bodies glistening in the light, but most were horses of dark brown or black, common horses of no particular breeding. Tyla stepped forward and stroked the silky white muzzle of a Guardsman stallion.
“The horses were our biggest problem,” said Revis, coming to stand beside her. “How do you hide a thing as big as a horse, especially the easily recognized Guardsmen variety? That’s when we got the idea for the catacombs and a ramp by which to lead the horses down. We also decided on a foundry then, because it isn’t unusual to have a horse visit a foundry to be shod.”
“I don’t believe the Guardsmen would bring their horses to a common foundry,” said Tyla.
Revis lifted his eyebrows at her remark, impressed. “Of course not,” he said. “That’s when we got the idea of altering their appearance.” He bent down and lifted a bucket of water, removing a piece of cloth from a stable door. He dipped the cloth in the bucket and reached for one of the dark brown horses, pulling him close and wiping his forehead with the cloth. As he did so, the brown color was removed and replaced by the brilliant white of a Guardsman horse. The members of the small company gasped and Earon crossed his arms in self-satisfaction.
“That can’t be!” cried Muzik, pushing forward. He took the cloth from Revis’ hand and dipped it in the water, then applied the cloth to the horse’s shoulder. The brown color ran from the horse in a streak, leaving a trail of white behind.
“Katsen root,” said Tyla. “Ingenious.”
“Wouldn’t you say?”
Tyla turned then, her eyes piercing. “Why have you shown us this?”
The Falcon leader scratched his chin. “You don’t mince words, do you?”
“I haven’t the time.”
He straightened. “Well, then, come have breakfast with me and I’ll explain myself.”
Tyla sighed. “Listen carefully, Revis, we’re to be out of the gates of Adishian by sunrise. We came here to get horses, which were promised to us, and we have precious little time. What time we do have is being wasted by this tour and idle conversation. Come to the point, Revis, and quickly, for my patience is running thin.”
“Very well,” he said, holding up his hands in supplication. “I want you and the others to join the Revolt. We could use each of you. It would be an unexpected boon to us and give us a decided advantage over Rarick.”
“Why?” said Tyla.
Revis’ eyes grew both hard and distant. “Because you are Talar Eldralin’s daughter. Your father had great power when he was alive, Stravad power, and I’ve heard enough rumors to know you possess a measure of it yourself.” He moved close and took Tyla’s hand in his. “With your power and my leadership, we’ll crush Sarkisian. Nothing can stand in our way, not even Rarick.”
Tyla shook her head. “I suspected as much. Pity I’ve listened to you too long already.” She shouldered her pack and turned to go, but Revis blocked her way.
“Don’t go. Listen to me but a moment more,” he said.
Tyla looked up at him. “No, Revis, you listen to me. I swore that I’d never be forced to use my power against my will. I’m leaving Adishian because Rarick would have me as his weapon. I’m not about to switch sides and fall prey to you after I’ve just escaped him.”
“It’s not the same, Your Highness. Ours is a noble and righteous cause.”
“Is it, Revis? And where does it become something else? No man can have such power without abusing it. I’m tired of being abused, so I’ll leave you and Rarick to devour each other in your passion for destruction.”
Revis grabbed her shoulder.
In the same instant, Jarrett, Kendrick and Muzik drew their swords and Kian’s neck hair bristled in warning. Earon slid back into the shadows, away from the confrontation.
“You don’t seem to fully understand. I can’t let you go. You know of our operation now.”
Tyla shook off his hold. “I wouldn’t play this hand,” she said.
“What other hand do I have to play? A weapon has been given to me. Do you really think I won’t use it?”
Tyla fixed him with her eyes. Why was it every man thought he had the right to use her? “You don’t know what you’re saying or who you’re dealing with. I came here for horses and that’s what I intend to take. Do not stand in my way.”
A calculating look entered Revis’ face. “The bounty alone would buy us as many weapons as we need.”
“Revis…” began Earon.
He ignored the runner, fixated on Tyla.
With a sigh, she allowed her power to slip into his mind. He was not a complex man, greedy and ambitious, but not complicated. She let her power curl around his heart and restricted the flow of blood, not enough to make him black out, but he immediately clenched at his chest as he felt the pressure.
She leaned closer to him. “How far do you want to take this?” she whispered.
His lips parted and he gasped. She exerted a little more pressure, a little more control. “We just want the horses. We’ll leave and you’ll continue doing what you’re doing. If anyone follows us, if any alarm is sounded, I will take particular care to find you and I promise you, your death will be unspeakably painful.”
She released him and leaned back. He sucked in a wild breath and sagged against the boards of the stall. For a long moment, he stared at her, then he dropped his eyes.
“Take the horses, Earon, they belong to you anyway, and whatever else you need. My attention’s needed elsewhere,” he said, the quiver in his voice betraying his raging emotions.
He circled wide around Tyla and backed up the tunnel, turning when he was far enough away. Tyla shifted and her gaze came to rest on Earon. The runner swallowed hard and glanced down, his earlier bravado fading.
CHAPTER 14
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Dawn was peeking over the top of the battlements when the five Guardsmen neared the inner gate. They paused in the shadows of the gatehouse and surveyed the soldiers on duty, three in all, the rest scattered across the ramparts. The soldiers at the gate huddled close together over an iron drum they had filled with wood and set ablaze. The morning was cold, although the snow had stopped, and their breath came in white puffs. Frost gathered in their moustaches.
The commander of the Guardsmen glanced back over his horse to the dog’s body slung across the back of his saddle and buried his fingers in the thick coat. He lifted his eyes to the others that followed him, then he steered his horse out from the cover of the gatehouse and toward the soldiers huddled over the drum.
As the soldiers caught sight of the familiar red panther on the commander’s parka and the gold ropes across his shoulder, they leapt to attention. The commander and the rest of his squad saluted them in return.
“At ease,” came the gruff, deep voice of the commander and the soldiers lowered their arms. The captain of the soldiers came forward then and looked over the little squad of Guardsmen assembled at the gate, heads bowed against the chill wind of the morning.
“Commander, good morning to you,” he said amicably and his eyes strayed to the dog’s limp body slung over the back of the commander’s horse. The dog was massive, one of the biggest the captain had ever seen and he recognized him instantly. “What news do you have from the castle?”
The commander had been surveying the ramparts and the men positioned along them, but he lowered his dark eyes to the captain and regarded him. A stock of dusky blonde hair was just visible beneath the commander’s hood and a long, white scar ran down his left cheek. He motioned over the back of his horse. “They finally had this beast put down. Bit the leg of a fellow Guardsman, down to the bone.”
The captain glanced at his men. “We’d heard the animal had escaped with its mistress.”
The World of Samar Box Set 3 Page 23