Stunned by the unexpected proclamation, Aibek sat silently. After a moment, he asked, “Where did the dagger come from? Was it Ahni’s?”
“Yes. It was always Ahni. She’s the one who stabbed Alija, too. She was Tavan’s mistress, though she believed he’d marry her eventually. It was only a few days before his death when she found out she was with child. She’d been trying to hide her condition while plotting to overthrow the council.”
She paused, sobbing silently, and Aibek wondered how this woman had stayed captive so long to protect her friend.
“Is she really dead?” Tamyr whispered, another sob escaping as she struggled for control.
Aibek nodded slowly. “I’m sorry.”
He couldn’t think of anything more to say. He handed her the handkerchief he had brought this time and waited while she regained control of herself, then excused himself and escaped into the open boardwalk below.
He dropped onto an empty bench just outside the prison-house and cradled his head in his hands. He yearned to believe everything Tamyr had told him—that Ahni was behind everything and Ahren was completely innocent. It was a little too convenient.
It was easy to place the blame on someone who couldn’t defend herself, and wouldn’t face any further consequences. True, Ahni was dead, but this version of events allowed both Tamyr and Ahren to clear their names. He thought again of those few precious moments on the bench outside the party. Ahren had felt so soft and warm and had molded herself against his chest. The moment had felt… what? Right? How would he know if it were right? Even at that moment, he hadn’t trusted her.
With a great heaving sigh, Aibek shoved himself to his feet. His head swam a little, so he stood for a moment and waited for the sensation to pass. When he could see clearly, he set off for Valasa’s house. He had to hear Ahren’s side of the story.
* * *
It felt strange to knock on the heavy wooden door. For several months, this house had been his home, and he’d gone through this door without a moment’s hesitation. Now, he waited outside until the housekeeper cracked the door open and peeked through, then swung it wide and welcomed him inside. They exchanged pleasantries while he waited for Valasa. Finally, the healer strolled into the den from his workroom.
When he spotted Aibek, the large man grinned. “I heard you were up and out today. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
“Yes, thank you for the broths. I think they helped.” Aibek flushed and lowered his eyes, mentally tracing the circular pattern on the plush rug. “Um… would it be all right if I talk to Ahren? I’d like to ask about how she got hurt.”
Valasa barked out a short laugh, then grew serious. “Of course. I’ve already asked those same questions, but I know you have to ask for yourself.”
They trailed quietly down the hall toward Ahren’s room, and Valasa knocked softly on the door. He didn’t wait for an answer before he pressed the door open and gestured for Aibek to enter. They stood just inside, in a small sitting room furnished in green and silver. Hundreds of tiny figurines and carvings crowded every available shelf and table. Some depicted dancing fairies, like the ones in the painting in Aibek’s meditation room, while others were forest creatures, trees, and flowers. Aibek snapped his mouth shut and looked questioningly to his host.
Valasa smiled. “Yes, she carved all these. She’s very talented.”
Aibek blinked and tried to reconcile the patience and skill required to create these beautifully detailed works of art with his image of the impulsive and impetuous young woman he was here to see. Before he could regain his composure, Ahren moved slowly through a door to his right. He had to work to stifle the gasp that rose in him at her appearance. A deep purple bruise covered the entire right side of her face, and her right eye was still swollen shut. She moved gingerly to a soft-looking chair near the window and lowered herself into it without appearing to notice his presence.
Uncomfortable with watching her pained movements, Aibek shifted his weight from one foot to the other and cleared his throat. Finally, slowly, Ahren raised her good eye to his face, and he had to resist the urge to look away.
“I know. It looks awful.”
Before Aibek could respond, Valasa cleared his throat. “I’ll be in the hall. Maybe she’ll tell you more than she’s told me.” He swept out the door without waiting for a reply. The soft click of the latch echoed in the silence left behind.
“How are you feeling?”
“I heard you’ve been sick. Are you all right now?”
They both talked at the same time, then they laughed.
“You first.” Aibek smiled a little.
“I’m sore, but my father says I’ll be fine. What about you? You were ill?”
“Yes, I caught some random forest disease, but I’m better now.” He stopped and took a breath, then blurted out, “What happened? Where did the dagger come from?”
Ahren shook her head. “I don’t know. I was standing next to her, watching the dancing, and suddenly she had the knife in her hand.”
She continued, relaying the tale from the beginning and ending with Ahni tackling her to the ground. She’d woken in her bed the next morning.
When she’d finished, Aibek sat quietly, thinking. Her story didn’t contradict the witness, but rather expanded on what the witness had seen. Ahren had the dagger in her hand because she’d wrestled it away from Ahni a moment before.
The seconds ticked by in silence and Ahren looked at him with a stricken expression. “You don’t believe me, do you?”
“I want to,” he said honestly, “but I’m having a hard time putting it all together.” The pounding behind his temples had returned with a vengeance, and he had to concentrate to hear her words. “I don’t think I’m quite back to normal, yet,” he added. Aibek pushed himself to his feet, then turned to face Ahren again. “I’ll come back tomorrow if you want to talk more. I’m not feeling very well right now.”
“I think I’d like that. I haven’t given you much of a chance before now, and I’m sorry for that.”
Silence answered her once again. Aibek couldn’t find the right words, so he kept his mouth firmly clamped shut. He wasn’t quite sure what he thought yet, and he didn’t want to offer false promises to the battered young woman. He bowed slightly in her direction and then pulled open the door. Valasa stood in the hall, apparently listening at the door. Aibek smiled and made his way down the hall and back to his home.
* * *
By the time he’d dragged himself across the Square, Aibek had conceded that maybe he wasn’t as recovered as he wanted to believe. He ate a light lunch and crawled back into his bed. He slept through supper and didn’t wake until the morning sun shone through the window.
The day dawned bright and cold, and the light streaming through the window had a different gleam to it. Aibek peeked out between the curtains, then exclaimed in wonder at the layer of white fluffy snow covering everything outside. He ventured outside.
Having grown up in the warmer climate of the city, he had never seen snow except in children’s stories, so he was shocked when Serik grabbed a handful of it and hurled it at his chest. With a shout, Aibek stepped backward in surprise, then promptly slipped on the icy wood floor and fell onto his backside.
Carefully getting up from his cold landing, Aibek immediately scooped some snow to retaliate, but before he could throw his new weapon, Faruz stepped into the courtyard, and Aibek decided he made a better target. Faruz shouted in surprise when the snowball struck and disintegrated, and then bent to gather a snowball to defend himself.
The three friends gleefully hurled wads of snow at each other until they were soaked through and out of breath. At that point, the housekeeper ushered them inside to change clothes and warm up with some hot famanc. When they looked out the front window, they saw similar scenes being played out around them as their neighbors and guests emerged and discovered the newly fallen snow. The morning was a blur of snowball fights followed by warm blankets and faman
c by the fire.
After lunch, the division leaders called their groups to order, and training resumed. They needed to be confident enough to fight efficiently in the icy cold, slippery conditions. No one had any trouble adapting, though. After the shenanigans of the morning, everyone had already grown accustomed to sliding around in the snow.
During a short break, Aibek thought he heard a shout ring out from the north. He peered over the rail and confirmed his fear. The groundfolk had lit the warning lamps. The enemy was in the forest.
He bellowed, “Everyone to your stations! Prepare for battle!”
All scrambled to comply, exclaiming to everyone they passed that the siege was coming. In a deafening cacophony of clanging metal and anxious shouts, the fighters frantically donned their battle armor and took up their weapons. Swords had been filed to a razor edge, and every arrow was deadly sharp. This was the moment they had trained for. The division officers urged their subordinates to keep quiet, so they didn’t alert the coming army to their readiness. The invaders expected them to be unprepared, like the last time.
24
Attack
Breathless and tense, they waited. Faruz shivered as the icy wind howled through the barren trees. He waited along with his division at the northern border. He peered through the dark trees, searching for signs of the enemy’s approach. How many would come?
He looked around at the soldiers assembled near him, saw the anxious looks on their faces, and tried to project confidence. Maybe Aibek’s plan to infect the enemy with Usartma had been successful, and Helak’s ranks would be weak and ill.
He stretched onto his toes and looked in all directions, inspecting the assembled force. Nivaka had brought together an army of twelve hundred warriors: not a large army by city standards, but a huge force for this small town. They stood ready, swords and shields gleaming in the afternoon sun. And still, they waited. After a while, the villagers near him began to mumble and complain. Some brushed the powdery snow away from spots on the boardwalk, making dry patches where they could sit.
Some soldiers whispered to each other that the ground folk had deceived them.
Faruz considered the possibility; his eyes narrowed as he continued to stare out into the forest. What if this was a joke? Why would the elves or dwarves light the lamps if no one was coming? What would they gain from such a prank? No, this had to be real.
Though he couldn’t explain what was taking the enemy so long, Faruz did his best to reassure the anxious men and women this was real, and that the enemy was coming. He struggled to keep order as small spats broke out among individuals who claimed they had been fooled and those who insisted they should wait it out. The tension was so thick he could smell it on the wintry air.
The warriors waited for an eternity before the definitive sound of boots marching in time through the snowy forest drifted to their fearful ears. The sun overhead was blinding as it reflected off the pristine snow. Twigs snapped and leaves crunched under the wintry cushion beneath the feet of the advancing army. The rhythmic pounding grew until it was almost enough to make some overwrought villagers lose their nerve, but their leaders kept them still.
Faruz crouched low against the rail at the north end of Nivaka, watching and waiting for the perfect moment. Fighters perched in the trees outside the village twitched at the nearness of their enemy. All eyes turned to Faruz, waiting for the signal.
Finally, he raised both hands and waved his soldiers forward, mouthing the word, “Now!”
* * *
At their captain’s quiet command, Zifa and her group of agile warriors swung through the trees above the enemy force. With a dagger between her teeth, she signaled to her team without making a sound, and together they dropped to the ground amongst their adversaries. With lightning quick movements, she drew her weapon across the throat of an enemy soldier and leapt back to the branch above. From her perch, she surveyed the scene below and noted with satisfaction that each of her fighters had killed at least one enemy soldier.
As soon as Zifa and her team were out of danger, Faruz waved the archers forward, and each shot three arrows in quick succession onto the advancing army. Immediately after the archers, the spear throwers stepped forward and launched wickedly sharp javelins into the bewildered horde. Many enemy fighters had tilted their heads to follow the retreating villagers and were easy targets for the swift arrows and spears. Screams pierced the air as wounded men fell, and areas of snow turned red.
When enemy soldiers turned to tend their wounded, Zifa and her warriors once again dropped from the trees and attacked the flanks. Again they killed several fighters before returning to their branches. This time, they swung and climbed their way back into the village, carefully avoiding the sharp spikes on the rails. They wouldn’t take the chance on a third attack. Their friends were waiting to help them back onto the boardwalk with words of praise and encouragement.
* * *
Faruz watched for Zifa’s return to the boardwalk, and personally congratulated her on a well-executed attack.
“Well done! You were perfect.” He clapped her on the shoulder, then turned to the man coming over the rail behind her.
“Great job!” he exclaimed as he helped the man to the relative safety of the boardwalk.
Once all the soldiers were within the boundaries of the village, Faruz ducked behind the line of archers and spear throwers. He directed them to shoot at will. He was pleased to see that nearly a quarter of Helak’s army lay wounded or dead on the ground, and more were falling every moment from the incessant attack. In the confusion of the surprise assault, some of the less determined soldiers scattered into the trees, further decreasing the size of the invading army.
“Look, they’re already running away!” he yelled over his shoulder to Wayra. His tall friend nodded and fired another arrow without stopping to respond, and several others within hearing distance erupted in nervous laughter.
All too soon, the leaders of the enemy force regained their footing and commanded their men to begin trying to gain entrance into the village. Faruz watched with satisfaction as their grappling hooks slid impotently off the spiked rail, unable to find traction on the icy barbs. Without much success, other soldiers tried to find ways to break or climb over the spiked collars protecting the trees near the village.
The archers maintained a steady barrage of arrows while the enemy sought entrance to the village. Before long, Helak’s warriors fastened their grappling hooks onto the ends of rope ladders, which they then flung up over the spiked rail. The ladder caught on the barbs, and the soldiers began to climb. They kept their heads down so their heavy iron helmets would repel the arrows, but many were wounded and fell when they looked up to seek their next handhold. Several long minutes later, the first of the soldiers reached the top of the rail. They tried to shield their faces from the arrows but then were quickly dispatched by villagers with swords as they attempted to climb over the rail along the boardwalk.
From his vantage point on a crate behind the archers, Faruz could see the enemy breaching the top of the rail. At first, coming one or two at a time, soon they were like a sea of iron and steel pouring onto the boardwalk. Faruz swung his father’s broadsword off his back. He ripped it from the scabbard and scrambled to help stem the tide. A shield cracked beneath his sword; he felt the satisfying crunch of bone as his blade connected with an enemy’s chest. And then he felt a tremor in the boardwalk, ice rushing through his veins as he turned to see the most colossal soldier he had ever faced.
Blanketed in iron and bearskin, the soldier stormed forward; his snarl baring pointed black teeth. Faruz felt himself bouncing on the boardwalk with every step closer the solder came to him. “Oh, no!” was all he had time to say before the enemy’s axe swung for his head.
Faruz shot in, putting all his training to the test. He swept his sword out, but the goliath jumped back and brought his axe down again. Faruz side-stepped, the axe chiming off the railing, sending wood chips flying. Faruz the
n brought his sword over his head, chopping for the man’s arm but only finding the haft of his axe. The enemy kicked, and Faruz felt the wind knocked from his lungs as he tumbled across the boardwalk.
Terror filled Faruz’s eyes as he looked up. Not only was this giant coming for him, but more and more spilled over the rail. Archers fired; swords clashed. But for each one his men sent back over the rail, two more took their place.
He filled his lungs with icy air and rolled to the side, then lay perfectly still and waited for the enemy to advance again. When the hulking soldier stamped over to finish him, Faruz rolled and swung his sword with all his might. He felt the blade slice through his opponent’s thigh and heard the man scream in pain. He leapt to his feet and swung again, slicing through the giant’s neck and sending his head rolling across the slushy boardwalk. His stomach churned, and he gagged once at the sight, then turned away and looked to see if any villagers needed help. He noticed with a start that the arrows had ceased flying.
“They’re still coming over the rail!” He shouted to the head archer, who nodded, then turned and gave the command for his men to continue firing.
Even though he had been warned, Faruz was astonished by how many there were. Soon the enemy warriors would outnumber the force waiting for them on the icy wooden walkway. His only consolation was that nearly a third of the advancing force had bright red splotches over their faces, and even more looked weak and ill. Aibek’s plan to weaken the force with Usartma had worked.
Most of the advancing soldiers carried swords strapped to their backs or around their waists, but some held large battle axes and maces. Faruz was thankful they couldn’t use the latter effectively in the limited space on the boardwalk. Some of the larger battleaxes were equally ineffective, and after a couple of tries, the enemy fighters discarded those frightening tools in favor of more practical options such as swords and daggers, as well as smaller axes.
The Nivaka Chronicles Boxed Set Page 27