From the west gate, I could see the usual refugees that gathered there hurrying down the Astral Road as quickly as their feet could carry them. At least they weren't dim enough to linger and watch.
A sea of soldiers lay before us, all of them staring forward, unmoving, unblinking. A shout went up from the northern gate, and they began to divide, moving in perfect unison like a pair of giant hands had each grabbed half of the army and pulled them apart. Ten perfect steps, and they stopped again, leaving just enough space for three horses to move between them.
The middle horse was a massive destrier, armored from nose to flank in plates of steel that hid its shining black coat. Atop the impressive warhorse was Lord Othenidus himself, decked out in his own suit of well-worn plate. Aside from the matching helm he wore over his head, he looked no different from when he had spoken to me in the dungeon. On his back, he bore a sword that, even from a distance, I could tell was nearly as long as I was tall.
To his right sat Lady Lheona herself, riding a beautifully groomed palfrey with a cream-colored coat. My only experience with her had led me to believe she was the type to hold herself like a lady of high class, prim and proper at all times. Out here, now, she looked almost as ready to ride into a fight as her husband. Her elegant dress had been replaced with a suit of chainmail and boiled leather, accented with steel plated pauldrons and gauntlets. In place of delicate shoes, she wore steel greaves with spurs. Her flaxen hair had been tightly braided and pinned close to her head, framing her lined face. It was clear she was a woman of years, but she would have been comely still, if not for the grim set to her jaw. On either side of her sat two longswords, and a longbow hung across her back beside a quiver full of arrows.
Lheona turned her horse and bellowed, in a voice belying her small frame, “PRESENT ARMS!”
A sound like a knife shearing through wheat tore through the air as hundreds of swords were drawn in unison. The pikemen and horsemen planted their weapons into the muddy soil with a dull thud, point up. The archers grabbed all the arrows from their quivers and pulled them out, holding them in outstretched arms.
“Strange, all of their weapons are iron,” said Edge.
It was true. Every sword blade, arrowhead, and lance tip lacked the familiar sheen of steel. Blackened, lusterless metal adorned every weapon presented.
“What's weird about that?” I asked.
“Iron is too brittle compared to steel. Not a great idea to make a weapon of it, much less equip an army.” He flashed a few of his daggers from their sheaths. Every single one gave the dangerous glint only steel could make.
“Maybe they don't have the means to produce it,” suggested Liore.
I drew my own sword, holding it out for them to see. While not as polished as Edge's knives, the silvery luster was unmistakable.
“I took this from a guard yesterday. All of them had swords like this,” I said.
“Then why in blazes would he bring out inferior weapons on purpose?” said Edge.
While we spoke, Lheona started moving her horse through the ranks. She removed one of her gauntlets and let her bare hand brush against the end of each weapon. As she did, I started feeling a thrum of power coming from the army, growing steadily with each weapon touched.
“I think…she's putting her essence into the iron,” I said. With her energy enhancing them, those supposedly brittle weapons would be strong enough to punch through steel like it was paper. It would seem her nickname - the Iron Maiden - didn't just refer to her usual disposition.
Othenidus left his wife to her work, urging his destrier to trot forward through the muck. To his left remained the third rider, a soldier wearing armor not unlike Lady Lheona's. A half-helm hid their features, but there was no hiding the dozen or so weapons covering their body. This didn't look like anything close to a peaceful parley.
“INTRUDERS UPON MY LAND,” Othenidus roared, his voice carrying as strongly as Triumph's, “I AM THE LORD OF VAL'HALA. I HAVE COME TO HEAR YOUR PLEA. SEND FORTH THOSE THAT SPEAK FOR YOU.”
I exchanged a nervous glance with Blake. It was too late to think about grabbing mounts of our own now. Any hesitation on our part might set off Othenidus; we had to go as we were. At least Vance didn't look perturbed, but he rarely did anyways.
“Bring us the captives,” he said. From behind us, a pair of Mad Riders approached with the soldiers from the night before. They looked much more lucid today, from the angry looks in their eyes as they struggled against the bonds that held their hands behind their backs. Gags had been stuffed in their mouths, so in place of curses they made do with venomous grunts.
Vance and Blake each took the place of the Mad Riders, grabbing hold of the captives' arms. Together, the two started down the incline and towards the mass of soldiers. I kept close behind, but not before giving the bindings of the prisoners a quick tap apiece. At the least, there would be no threat of them getting loose and attacking.
“Do you feel that strange aura around Othenidus?” said Vance, just above a whisper. I concentrated, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
“I don't feel a thing,” I said.
“Precisely. It's more than just not using his essence; it's like there's a void around him.”
I tried sensing again, reaching out with my own essence to see what he meant. As my energy drew close, though, I felt it. An almost crushing emptiness surrounded the Lord of the Lonely Kingdom. My senses couldn't penetrate beyond that bubble.
“That must be his power,” I said quietly. “We can't cross into there. If I'm right, we'd be all but powerless in there.”
“No idea what you're talking about, but getting much closer than this is inviting trouble anyways,” Blake said. I agreed, and we stopped about forty feet from where Othenidus stood. Another ten feet would bring us within that sphere of emptiness I felt. I just hoped it was enough space to react if he made a move.
“You wish to yell at me during this whole parley, then?” shouted Othenidus. His voice carried easily enough, though not nearly as loud as it had earlier.
“This is plenty close, I think,” answered Vance. “If I may, before we begin, I'd like to give you a gift in faith. Your men, who tried to steal into our camp the night before.”
Blake and Vance shoved the soldiers forward. They stumbled, but caught themselves, before trudging back to rejoin their fellows. I quietly pulled my essence from their restraints back. I would need every scrap of strength I could spare.
I stepped into the space the two soldiers left, standing in front of my escorts. Othenidus had been watching his returning soldiers with disgust, but the moment I came into view, he turned the full force of his loathing onto me.
“You!” he snarled. I enjoyed watching his neck purple under his helmet.
“I've come as a show of good faith, too,” I said. I made a bow as low as I could, though not low enough to break eye contact.
“You have some gumption—”
“I have the gumption to keep your men alive and bring them back to you, in spite of the treatment you so graciously gave you, yes.” From the way his whole body tensed, I could tell he wasn't used to being cut off. Vance gave me a jab in the side. I got the message: being flippant right now probably wasn't the best idea. Damn, it felt good, though.
“Speak your business, already,” Othenidus barked. His escort stirred a bit in the saddle, their hands twitching towards their weapons. This wouldn't end well if I kept speaking out of line.
“As you wish. I come on behalf of Lord Uraj and Lord Hawke, requesting a formal meeting with your Lordship.”
That caught Othenidus off-guard. We weren't screaming at each other, but our voices were still carrying loudly enough for most bystanders on both sides to hear. I didn't know how much of his people were in on what he was doing, but he was still a supposed lord of the realm. Unless all of Val'Hala was in on his demented scheme, he needed to keep up his charade.
“Do they?” he said slowly. His eyes scanned across the line of gyps
ies and family members behind us. “I don't see them here, though. If they desire a meeting, why do they send a girl, a brigand, and a con artist to deal with me?”
At least he was entertaining the thought. We just needed him to keep entertaining it.
“They're travelling from Damkarei as we speak, with all haste. Word has reached them of my…mistreatment. They're willing to overlook it, though, if you are willing to discuss matters with them.” I tried my best to pull my aloof attitude from Hafwei into my speech, anything to gain some credibility as a spokesperson. Against someone like Othenidus, I just ended up feeling more childish.
“You're playing a dangerous game, coming into my lands and making demands of me,” Othenidus rumbled.
“There are no demands being made, my lord, only a relay of information,” said Vance. “To be fair, we have not bared weapons at you. Yet you have assembled your entire force, fully armed, and brought them to this parley.”
Othenidus gave Vance a contemptuous look. “I have the right to defend my lands as I see fit.”
“And we have no qualms with your governance. We only desire to deliver our message on behalf of our own Lords, that you may know their will. Have we not demonstrated our desire for peaceful entreaty, with delivering your wayward men back to you unharmed?”
Othenidus fidgeted in his saddle a bit. I was suddenly very glad for Vance's company. He was carrying the discussion in a way I couldn't have begun to attempt. Blake was completely out of their element, but it was enough that ze was there beside me.
“And what of these others?” Othenidus said, sweeping his hand towards our gathering. “Why send so many for a simple parley?”
“Our Lords wish to discuss matters of the realm. We are a simple group of those who hold the protection of the realm as our highest goal, united under the Old Kings. In a way, we are no different than your own considerable army.” Vance's face tightened, giving that simpering smile I found so intolerable. I liked it much more when it was aimed at Othenidus.
“Are the dregs of humanity all that remain under the rule of the Scholar and Forge? Times are more troubling than I thought,” Othenidus fired back. Vance remained impassive, but I could feel Blake tense. If we didn't wrap things up soon, ze might try to take his head right there.
At that moment, Lady Lheona rode up next to her husband. She spared only a cursory glance at our party, though when her eyes met mine her lips pulled back in a silent snarl. She leaned close to Othenidus and whispered into his ear for a moment, then turned and trotted away. I braced myself, expecting him to call an attack on us any second.
“Well, it seems that I must call this parley to an end. I will consider your proposal, and call for another meeting when I've reached my decision.”
“Really?” I said, immediately feeling stupid.
“Yes, really,” he sneered. “Your, er, people will be allowed temporary refuge here until that decision is made.”
With a jerk of the reins, he wheeled his horse around and started back towards Val'Hala. His armored escort lingered a while longer, watchful for any signs of treachery. Only when their lord was a safe distance away did they urge their own mount back home.
I wanted to collapse in relief, but Blake was already tugging at my arm. We were uncomfortably exposed, and I quickly reconsidered my need to rest. The three of us rushed back to our allies as fast as we could, short of a full sprint.
Mirth and Liore waited expectantly for us, their unease writ across their face. All of the gypsies and family looked tense, but there was something more between them. Something had happened while we were gone.
“Where's Jo?” Blake said. That's when I realized the leader of the Mad Riders was nowhere to be found.
“A Rider came and demanded her attention. She rode off shortly after you headed for your meeting,” said Liore. He pointed off to north, behind where the family stood. “She went that way.”
“That's where we found those abandoned settlements,” said Blake. “You think there was an ambush being set up?”
“No,” Mirth spoke. His hands were clasped behind his back, but that didn't stop them from trembling. “I feel something terrible coming from that direction. Tremendous power of the soul. I think—”
He had no time to tell us what he thought. Someone shouted and pointed in the direction Jo had disappeared. A pair of camel riders could be seen riding as fast as they could, the mounts braying loudly enough to hear even at a distance. I could just make out the bleached white hair on the head of one of the riders; it was Jo. She was shouting something, but I couldn't make it out.
“There's something behind them,” Blake breathed.
Genzo muttered to himself for a few seconds. “At least a hundred-fifty somethings,” he added.
The figures that rose into view were indistinct, but they spread out like a rainbow racing along the ground. My stomach dropped to my knees, and I fought the urge to vomit my breakfast.
“Demons!” I could just hear Jo crying out. “Demons! To arms! Prepare yourselves!”
A mixture of deathly silence and terrified murmurs thrummed through our line. Blake hefted their axe onto a shoulder and started whispering a prayer to the Almighty. The family drew their blades in unison, faces pale but set in grim acceptance. The gypsies started to panic, but Triumph called out to them.
“STAND TOGETHER. THE DEMONS COME!” he bellowed, loud enough to carry to even those farthest away. The sound of a comrade's voice had a calming effect on them, and they too steeled themselves for the multi-hued rush closing in.
“THE INTRUDERS HAVE BROUGHT DEMONS TO OUR DOOR! MEN, READY THE CHARGE!”
I turned around, surprised at the call. It was Othenidus, standing among his soldiers. The armored escort lifted a warhorn to their lips and let out a long, mournful note. The line of horsemen cantered forward, lances raised. The shield line began their march, followed closely by the pikemen. The archers took up the rear, arrows already being notched into their strings.
Slowly, the entire Val'Halan army began their ascent towards us. Behind me, the grinel were drawing close enough to start making out their features. Haggard, otherworldly faces leered at us, contorted in pain and madness. They would reach us in less than a minute, and the army wouldn't be far behind that. We were caught between hell and death.
Chapter 26: Blood and Mud
My ears rang. I expected to hear the sound of thousands of footsteps trudging closer, the snarl of slavering monsters growing louder, terrified screams and shouting. The only thing that I could hear without fail was the ringing.
Nearby, I heard Liore saying something, but it was muffled, like he was trying to speak through a pillow. I could see the family forming up in front of the rushing grinel, unable to completely hide the terror on their faces. For some reason, they looked like I was watching them from a telescope. They were so far away, even though I knew I was standing right next to them.
Triumph and Mirth were calling out to the gypsies on the other side, but the damned ringing prevented me from making out what it was. They turned towards the approaching army, their usual smiles and mischievous expressions replaced with blank stares. Among them I saw Chestnut, the only one who wore a grin. Her eyes were lidded, and she swayed where she stood. I saw the bottle in her hand and wondered vaguely why she had brought alcohol with her. The others paid her no mind as they watched Othenidus' soldiers climb the hill.
Blake grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me, their face plastered with worry. Even right next to them, I couldn't tell what ze was saying. I noticed how tightly Blake gripped their axe, and some fuzzy thought in my mind urged me to draw my own blade. I reached for it, only to realize I was already holding it.
The grinel were just a couple hundred feet away, fighting their way through the muddy terrain with all the abandon of insanity and starvation. I could see the cold gleam in their vacant eyes, the slaver running down their maws. Claws reached out towards us, grasping, desperate to tear through us. I couldn't tell i
f they simply hated humans, or if they were hungry enough to try and eat us. Neither one sounded appealing.
I swiveled around and looked at the soldiers. They were struggling with the saturated terrain much more than the demonic rush. Through my fog, I watched, bemused, as the line of horsemen was all thrown from their steeds at the same time. I recall hearing Chestnut through the buzz, whooping and hollering as the riderless herd turned and bolted from the field in unison. Some of the riders pulled themselves up, trying to figure out what happened while their brothers in arms marched onward. Some didn't stand at all, their necks and backs twisted all wrong.
Between the two groups charging us, the grinel were certain to reach us first. I turned to them and held my blade up, ready to fight to the bitter end. I should have been terrified, but I couldn't focus on anything other than the throb of my pulse and the whine that refused to leave my ears.
I let my essence seep through my body and fill me with strength. It flowed through me and into my sword, making it tremble with barely checked power. My senses sharpened, and I felt the raw might of the grinel bearing down on us. Hawke had trained me well to fight with my soul's energy, but it radiated from them in waves as regular as breathing. Even half-dead, each one was more dangerous than ten of Othenidus' men.
All at once, another burst of essence hit my senses. It surged through the family, empowering each of them much as my own essence did for me. It felt like the Goodmother had split herself into a hundred to stand fast against the horde. On each of their cheeks, the family's signature tattoo shifted from solid black to a shimmering sapphire blue. Emboldened by the power running through them, the family steeled themselves for impact.
The grinel were nearly on top of us. In a flurry of motion, Blake stepped out in front of me, the Twins raised over their head. Their whole body whipped around, and their wrist snapped as ze let go of the weapon. The axe soared through the air, spinning end over end directly into the mob of grinel. Many of them were able to sidestep the flying weapon, but one was just a fraction too slow. The double-headed blade of the axe bit through its neck, sending it tumbling away.
Savants of Humanity (The Scholar's Legacy Book 2) Page 31