I walked up to the table and leaned over it, staring straight into Liore's eyes. He was growing pale, but I had to give him credit for not flinching away from the ideas I was bringing up.
“Now, what would those creatures do if they were set upon civilians? How much damage could a hundred-something demons do to the country?”
“Th-that doesn't answer my question!” Liore stammered. I didn't bother correcting him that it was Vance that asked.
“The proper question is, who would take the blame for a sudden outburst of murderous demons rampaging through the countryside?”
It was like a torch lit in a deep cave, the realization dawning on the faces of those around me.
“If they spread out too quickly, even the Old Kings wouldn't be able to stop them without massive casualties,” said Edge. “They would have to mobilize the whole army to minimize damage. Othenidus could take Damkarei at his leisure.”
“Or tha bastard would move out with 'is army an' kill the demons 'imself,” said Jo. Her fist was clenched so tightly, her fingernails drew blood. “The people would think he's cleaning up the mess Hawke and Lord Uraj made. If the people were behind 'im, 'e wouldn't need to take the capital; Astra would choose 'im ta be their new ruler.”
I hadn't even thought of that. If the people turned against Hawke and Uraj, there would be no point in going to Grankul. They wouldn't leave for Conclave if those crazed grinel were released abroad, anyways. Othenidus had to be stopped, and quickly.
“That madman would sacrifice untold lives, just to make himself look the hero!?” Liore sounded like he couldn't believe the words coming out his own mouth. He swallowed a lump in his throat, his hands shaking as they braced on the table. An iron certainty crept into his expression, even as his shaking worsened. “We have to stay, then, I suppose.”
I was genuinely impressed. I didn't think Liore had the mettle in him.
“We should go warn the people!” said one of the Mad Riders.
“That would be as pointless as it is impossible, child,” said Mirth. “Small as it is, Astra is too vast to warn everyone in time. He could release those beasts at any time. Besides, we're the dregs of society. Who will listen to a mob of vagabonds, mercenaries, and gangsters?”
“We need to stall for time,” I said. As I expected, all eyes turned to me once more. “If we can hold out until Hawke and Uraj arrive with reinforcements, we can stop Othenidus from acting.”
“And how do we do that?” asked Vance. “Ask nicely? As the old man said, we're nothing but vagabonds, mercenaries, and gangsters. I don't think he'll just sit down and chat with us.”
“He will if we send him a token of good faith,” I argued. I looked at the captives, who had been all but forgotten up until now. The heads of the room turned to follow my meaning.
“You want to send them back?” said Vance. He sounded disbelieving and disappointed all at once. I couldn't decide if I hated him or really hated him.
“If we kill them, they'll be justified in attacking us,” I argued. “Othenidus may be borderline insane, but he wants to be the ruler of Astra above all else. I think he'll at least play at parley if we make a show of it.”
Vance bit his lip, trying to think of an argument. Of course, there was every chance I was wrong, and he would attack us regardless. We were the ones who had everything to lose. I was betting this whole plan on the belief that the Lord of Val'Hala would want to demonstrate his benevolence. More so, I was betting on Hawke and Uraj coming in time to help. If I was wrong, everyone here would probably die.
But doing nothing might doom the last remnants of humanity. Everyone in the tent knew that.
“Liore?” said Vance. The head member of the family was shaken out of his thoughts.
“I…suppose you have a point,” he slowly agreed. He turned to the guards. “Keep them safe for tonight. We'll return them in the morning.”
“I can take care of my own, thank you,” snapped Jo. She led the other Mad Riders out of the tent, the captives secured safely between them. Blake lingered at the opening just long enough to give me a half-hearted farewell, and then ze disappeared into the dark and muddy night.
“We all need to get all the rest we can take tonight,” Mirth spoke. “Tomorrow is going to be a very long day.”
Everyone rose silently to return to their respective camps. Nobody had to mention what Mirth had refused to say. There was a good chance that tomorrow would be the last day any of us would see.
Chapter 25: Ultimatum
In spite of my exhaustion from a combination of lack of food, lack of sleep, and having to escape a garrisoned city, I found myself unable to get any meaningful rest that night. Even the comfort of the bed Mirth had loaned me, dry and soft as it was, couldn't make me forget what lay ahead later that morning. I drifted in and out of consciousness, only stealing an hour of sleep here and there. Every time I awoke, I found myself reaching for the short-sword leaning by my side.
Slowly, a dull gray light started to creep through the shutters of the wagon. It felt like I had just laid down to try and rest when a soft knocking came at the door. I sighed and rolled out of bed. There was no point in trying to put off the inevitable any longer.
It was Mirth come calling, holding a plate laden with scrambled eggs, hard sausage, and beans. I gratefully took it and downed my meal as we walked silently into the heart of the camp.
The day was overcast, but thankfully the rain had lessened to a soft mist. The ground underfoot was a sludge of mud and trampled grass, sucking at my feet with every step. If things went sour today, the ground might be one of our worst enemies. At the least, I could hope it would work against the Val'Halans just as much.
All around us was a mill of activity. Family members rushed between tents, dropping off weapons to those who had brought none and waking anyone still lagging behind. The gypsies were breaking down the camp with a speed and efficiency born from a life on the road. People stole bites to eat as they worked, shoving sausages and breakfast sandwiches down their throats with hardly a pause to chew.
In the center of the camp waited the group we had met with the night before. The only notable absence was the Mad Riders, though I had seen a few of them riding around on camelback at the edges of the camp. No doubt they were already busy scouting; it was their area of expertise.
Triumph handed me a cup of tea, and I downed it in a single draught. It was weak, but thankfully hot, and helped a lot to wake me up. I tossed my empty plate and cup aside and turned to the matters at hand.
Liore, Vance, and Genzo had donned suits of boiled leather armor, painted black to match their usual ensemble. Each carried a longsword at their waist, but Genzo had also carried a bow looped over his shoulder and a quiver full of arrows on his back. He was the only one who didn't give a nod in greeting, as he was busy scratching something on a piece of parchment with what looked to be an arrow that had been dipped in ink.
Edge and Triumph at least gave me the courtesy of a smile when I arrived, though their usually jovial manner was as muted as the sky overhead. Neither of them wore any protective layers, and Triumph was armed with nothing more than a large wooden club. Edge, on the other hand, had covered his entire belt and two bandoliers with what might have been every knife in Astra.
“Everything is just about in order. We can march within the half-hour,” said Liore. He looked at Mirth. “Is the messenger coming?”
“He should be along shortly. Her friends can be slow to gather, sometimes,” said Mirth.
“We can't afford to wait idly. Every moment we dally is another moment Othenidus has to unleash those monsters on us all.”
A white-bellied eagle circled lazily overhead. I didn't think much of it, until it started tightening its circles and dropping lower with each turn. All of us watched as it was joined by an owl with a wingspan longer than my arm, and then a pigeon with a crest that looked a lot like Liore's hairstyle. The three great birds encircled each other in a midair dance, descending until
they finally alighted on the ground between all of us.
“This is no time to be showing off, Tweet!” barked Edge. A girl younger than me by at least a couple of years jogged up to the group, her face flushing. It was clear by her colorful attire and strange name that she was a gypsy, though not one I had met. She stopped and hurried to stammer out an apology between gasps for air.
“Sorry! Hooty didn't want to wake up. I wanted to make sure his wings were stretched.” She caught her breath and ran her fingers through the gnarled tangle of straw-colored hair on her head. There was a disturbing parallel between her head and a nest, especially with the suspicious crusty stains that littered it.
The birds hopped toward her expectantly, and she fed them some seed from her pockets. While she did that, Genzo rolled up the parchment he had been working on, along with another couple he had tucked away. He scrambled over to Tweet and pressed the rolls into her free hand. She let the birds nip at her hand playfully, talking to them in cooing tones as she tucked each of the notes into a small canister tied to each of their legs. With a few soft whistles, she egged them into flight.
“Go my little tweethearts, go find them,” Tweet murmured. Within seconds, they were pinpricks in the sky, soaring away from the madness we were stuck in.
“Where are they going?” I asked.
“They're looking for the Scholar and Forge,” said Vance. “We've been sending them messages noting where we are and what we've uncovered. Those we just sent will also let them know we've found you.”
“Have they answered any back?”
“Just one. Not very helpful, though.” With a gesture from Vance, Genzo produced a sliver of parchment. There were only two words on it, but they were in Hawke's handwriting. I could almost hear him speaking through it.
We're coming
“Well, that's all the procrastinating we can afford,” said Liore. “Vance, get the family ready to move out. Mirth, I trust you can handle your people?”
“Of course.” Mirth bowed, gave a reassuring smile, and beckoned for Triumph and Edge to follow him. I watched them disappear into the bustle of the rapidly shrinking camp, until Liore broke me from my thoughts.
“Lady Micasa, if you would like, Genzo and I will escort you personally to our rally location.”
“Lady Micasa?” I repeated.
“Indeed. Amongst everyone here, you share the closest connection to the Old Kings. You also are familiar with the family, Mad Riders, and gypsies. Your presence is a lynchpin to help connect us to one another.” He tried to emulate Mirth's reassuring smile, but it came off as more of a cringe. “Now come, let's go take a look at who wants to kill us.”
* * *
Our rendezvous point turned out to be the same hill Chestnut had found me on, overlooking the north gate of Val'Hala. The clouds congealed overheard into one massive, gloomy blanket that constantly threatened to start dropping its precipitous load at any moment. A slough of churned mud paved the way between us and the city. The hill was little better, but at least from here we would have the high ground. Anyone who wanted to make it to us would have a slick and slippery struggle ahead of them.
From the top ramparts of the garrison walls, the faint outlines of soldiers could be made out. They were unmoving, and I knew that they had taken notice of our presence. Their numbers grew slowly, filling in the spaces in the crenellations. Faces began to pop out of the arrow slits, adding to the growing number of eyes trained on us.
At the same time, our own numbers swelled as gypsies and family joined our ranks in small groups. The gypsies collected to my right, near where Mirth stood, while the family filed in beside Liore and Genzo to my left. The line of people grew until it stretched for nearly a half-mile in either direction, a wall of patchwork color reaching west and a mass of black yawning east. Before I had been captured, I would have thought we had gathered most of Astra behind us. I could only wish that had been true, now.
Jo and Blake eventually joined the procession, the only members of the Mad Riders present. I still caught the occasional glimpse of a camel rider on the horizon, but so far none of them had joined the ranks.
“Any news?” Liore asked without looking.
“Haven't found any scouting parties since last night,” said Jo. “No flankin' troops, either.” She stepped up behind Liore and me to take a look at the Lonely Kingdom for herself. The walls were now packed with soldiers, all of them holding crossbows and longbows that looked like less than toys from here. “Did find some abandoned houses, four or five of them a little over a mile northeast of here.”
“Did you check them for a possible ambush?”
“O' course we did,” she said, not hiding her contempt. “Not a soul ta be found. They look brand new. Might be new land owners that hightailed it out when we showed.”
“Let's just hope they didn't run to Val'Hala to join the militia. They have more soldiers than I'd like already.”
While they talked, Blake sidled up next to me. Ze held their axe loosely in one hand, but grabbed my hand with their free one and gave it a soft squeeze.
“How you holdin' up, Micasa?” ze asked.
“Oh, you know, tired, achy, scared out of my wits,” I said. I couldn't keep the quaver from my voice. Blake looked concerned, so I doubled down on the joke. “You know, better than you, at least.”
That made Blake's mouth twist, and ze punched me in the arm. My wince was only partially faked.
“Don't try to play it tough. If things get rough, stay close to me. The Twins and I got your back,” ze said. I smiled at that.
“Thanks, but I won't stay idle. Not when so much is at stake. Besides, it might be you that needs me at their back.” Blake grinned back at me.
“Someone's coming out,” Liore said suddenly. All the idle chatter throughout the line died in an instant. We all watched, holding our breath, as a lone soldier marched out of the gate. They held something to their lips, and their voice rang out through the countryside.
“Trespassers! These are the lands of Val'Hala, ruled and protected by the mighty Lord Othenidus Gottfried! Your presence has been taken as an act of aggression, and the Lord Sovereign has demanded an explanation!”
Triumph stepped forward and cleared his throat. With a deep breath, he began to respond. His voice carried just as loudly and clearly as the herald's, without any aid needed.
“We seek a parley with the Lord of Val'Hala! Our people have been attacked, and we demand our own explanation in return!”
The herald didn't say anything, but he held his ground for a long while. After some time, the gates opened again, and another soldier hurried forth to whisper into the herald's ear. From where we were, I couldn't see his reactions, but he soon started speaking again.
“The Lord has agreed to your request. You may bring up to three representatives, who will present themselves at Lord Othenidus' discretion.” It was clear from the way he faltered as he spoke that he wasn't expecting his lord to so easily give into the demand.
“We agree to these terms,” boomed Triumph, “and will be awaiting your Lord's presence.”
The herald scampered back to the gates quickly. I hadn't dared to dream that it would be so easy to gain Othenidus' ear. I still didn't; he was playing at something. A soft breeze kicked up and made me shiver, and I realized I was sweating buckets.
“This is fishy,” muttered Liore, echoing my thoughts.
“If he wants to play at the noble lord, let us oblige him,” said Mirth. “Who shall we send?”
“Lady Micasa should be one,” Liore said without hesitation. He looked to me, as if expecting me to decline.
“Gladly,” I answered in turn. I wanted to rub my escape in his face a bit.
“I don't like that idea. Are you sure, Micasa?” Now it was Mirth looking at me with worry, but this wasn't the time to be coddled.
“I'll go, in that case,” said Blake. My heart welled with appreciation. There was a good chance Othenidus may have been laying a trap for u
s, but ze was willing to step into that without hesitation with me. I would feel better having them by my side.
“So be it,” said Jo. “Would you like to send one of the gypsies with them, Mirth?”
“I would like to send all of them,” he said, “but that matters little. The gypsies are mistrusted among the people, and I don't want to give them an excuse to lash out. The family holds great power in the Fertile Lands; let them send someone.”
“In that case,” Vance spoke up, “I will accompany them. It is befitting that Mother's steward represent our family.”
Liore looked relieved. No doubt he thought he might have to make himself present, as the leader-apparent of the family currently present. Given the way he swayed between cold and craven, I was glad that Vance would be coming instead. He, at the least, seemed much less likely to do something foolish.
We discussed the idea of presenting ourselves mounted, but quickly threw the idea out when Genzo brought up the terrain. The ground was still too muddy, and if we had to make a quick escape, there was too much risk in the animals twisting an ankle. Better to chance making a break on foot than being crushed beneath a horse.
While we deliberated on the specifics, a concerned buzz started to spread through our ranks. We turned our attention to Val'Hala, and our deliberations were forgotten.
Soldiers, hundreds upon thousands, poured from all three gates. They marched in double columns, their steady cadence muffled by the mud squelching under their boots. Every single one was armored head to toe, and all of them were armed for combat at a moment's notice. Bowmen took their positions at the back, with stout knights bearing sword and shield ranking up in front of them. Pikemen set themselves ahead of the swordsmen, the blackened heads of their weapons standing well above the crowd. A file of horsemen took up the front line, their lances held at the ready for a charge. Othenidus, at the least, didn't seem to be worried about the terrain.
And still they continued to issue from the gates, a never ending stream of disciplined military might. I knew we were outnumbered from the beginning, but seeing them arranged before us and ready for a fight was sombering. If they truly wanted to run us down, we would stand no chance.
Savants of Humanity (The Scholar's Legacy Book 2) Page 30