by Franc Ingram
The yetis crashed into trees, then collided with each other. They pressed furry palms against their eyes to shut out the light, but even that wasn't enough. Anguished howls filled the sky. Still Leith didn't let up for fear that the yetis would resume their hunt. He bombarded them with sounds they could taste, and smells they could feel like insects crawling along their skin.
The yetis ran off mindless and Leith let them, knowing that at any point he could stop them if he wanted. He could have turned them into docile puppies if the thought pleased him. The power and control were intoxicating. How far could he push his new gift? Was the yeti really the pinnacle predator, the last thing to conquer?
"Way to go," Lorn panted, slapping Leith on the shoulder. "They really had me on the run for a minute there."
Leith came back to himself with a sharp snap. He'd gotten so engulfed by the yetis he'd lost track of his place, and of time passing around him. Being back firmly in his own mind felt tight and stiff. He blinked rapidly to get his eyes to adjust to Lorn up close.
"Time for us to get back behind the wall before they recover."
Leith swallowed hard. The smell of Lorn's wound still lingered at the back of his throat making his stomach turn. Leith had a hard time seeing the injured Lorn as anything other than easy prey. The stiff way the younger man straightened up, the glistening sweat on his brow, the heaving of his chest. It all made Leith want to pounce.
"Now would be good," Lorn urged.
Leith stumbled forward, following Lorn's lead without resistance. They waded across the pond at their feet, sinking up to their hips in muck. His mind was still reeling from the raw connection with the yetis, and his body ached from the physical trials he'd put it through. As the animalistic urges of the yetis started to fade from his mind and their more humanistic thoughts pushed to the foreground.
Images from the yetis' minds made Leith nearly trip over his own feet, he was so shocked at what he had gleaned. "Factories running," he stammered, words spilling out of his mouth before his brain had time to organize them. "Thousand trained, weapons ready."
Lorn turned, worry in his green eyes. He gripped Leith's shoulders, his touch the only thing Leith had to anchor himself to the real world. "What are you saying? Make some sense," Lorn shook Leith as if that would unscramble his mind.
"Mount Elmire filled with yetis, weapons waitn' attack."
Lorn shook his head. "No, no. Daycia's cave-in months ago took out his factories, buried a lot of his yetis. The Arismas Guard have been watching the area ever since. There's no way he could have replenished them in such a short time. Even if he had, Cornelius isn't one to hold back. If he had those kinds of troops he would have unleashed them on Evermore by now." Lorn slapped Leith playfully across the chest. "That trip in the yetis' brains scrambled your mind. Time for you to get some rest and some food. Yes, food. Must have food."
Leith snatched Lorn's wrists, squeezing them, desperate to get him to understand. Leith struggled to keep his breathing even, to make his mouth work the way he wanted. He wasn't much for words. He would never be accused of being particularly talkative or social, but just this once he needed Lorn to understand the urgency of what he had to say.
"Not crazy." Leith sucked in a deep breath, searching for the right words. He spoke slowly to be sure he was understood. "Felt 'em waiting for us an Ivar exhaust ourselves. Then sweep in to kill." It was Leith's turn to shake Lorn, to force understanding.
Lorn's gaze turned inward, he looked past Leith as the wheels of his mind were turning. His usually soft, friendly face turned hard. There was a flash of fear in his wide eyes that made Leith's breath catch. His skin felt cold and prickly.
"We have to tell The Court," Lorn croaked.
Leith nodded. Their defeat may have already been sealed.
01110101
For the first time since The Court was formed, Leith sought out its members on his own. They were already gathered in the Grand Room before he even asked after them. Leith felt the weight of ten angry pairs of eyes boring holes in him. The yelling started before he could get a word in.
"How could you let him leave without permission?" Born shouted, spittle flying from his mouth.
Leith blinked away fatigue and worry from his eyes, trying to remember what he could have done to anger The Court so much. The fact that Lysander fled in the middle of the night came back to the forefront of his mind. Leith wanted to remind The Court he couldn't control the actions of a grown man who also happened to be a king, but that was just a lazy excuse. It would have also done a disservice to Lysander and himself.
"Three Kings agreed. Enough permission for me," Leith stated flatly. He stared up at the high ceilings of the Grand Room, trying not to hyperventilate.
"And Jonathan? How did you talk him into this foolishness?"
Leith wrinkled his face in confusion. He glanced over at Lorn who shook his head. They made a point of saying their goodbyes in Nadir's room and letting Lysander tend to his business alone as not to draw too much attention. If Jonathan somehow found out and caused trouble it was the first Leith was hearing about it.
"He went gallivanting off with our wayward king without one word to the rest of us," Born explained, sweeping the rest of The Court under his outstretched arm.
Leith was genuinely shocked. Jonathan objected the most to Lysander's plan. Those two weren't on friendly terms. Leith didn't know what could have changed the Darten man's mind.
"We had nothing to do with that," Lorn interjected. "But they're gone now. We can waste precious energy arguing about what we can't change, or we can focus on the problems we can deal with."
Leith gave Lorn a pat on the back for words well said. "We come across yetis. Know they have army waitin' at Mount Elmire."
Yael stepped up, his face pale. "What? How?"
"Leith read the yetis minds when he was practicing controlling them," Lorn said in a rush. "Cornelius has continued to build his army in secret. All these skirmishes he has us fighting are just distractions to wear us out."
Born threw up his hands in frustration. "and you let Lysander take a sizable portion of our forces in the opposite direction?"
"How could we know?" Leith asked.
"So, what do we do now?" Yael asked.
"Get Prince Fabian to gather his troops, keep Cornelius contained," Leith offered, "till we send help."
"Leaving Evermore vulnerable again," Born shouted.
Leith sighed. He wondered if it was worth the hassle to even talk to The Court. "Guard stations built. People packed in shelters. Everything possible done to protect us."
"We need you here the rest...," Born started.
Yael stepped up, cutting Born off, "We need to confer amongst ourselves." He directed Born back to the table leaving Leith and Lorn to stand awkwardly in a corner.
Lorn turned his back on The Court, "Do you think we can go to Darten without The Court's approval?"
Leith shook his head, "Not enough loyal Rangers left." Leith knew the realm guards from Darten and Arismas would follow The Court. "Not convincing Fabian with 'em anyway."
Leith looked past Lorn, trying to gauge the mood of various Court members. Cornelius was a ruthless, scheming, force of destruction. Surely The Court would see past their own political leanings and see that this threat was a priority.
The nine Court members left were hunched over the table exchanging heated whispers that Leith couldn't discern. He tried to think what option would be left if The Court refused.
"So, do we sit back and hope on The Twelve that Lysander gets back before Cornelius unleashes his hidden army?" Lorn asked, taking the worries right out of Leith's head.
"Can't be doing that."
"Then we're agreed?" Lorn asked.
Leith looked into the boy's eyes, feeling suddenly as if he'd missed half the conversation. Lorn kept his face blank but Leith could feel the tension pouring off the Master of Skies.
"We have to make it more appealing to them," Lorn encouraged.
The wheels in Leith's head took a minute to get turning, but once started they moved at lightning speeds. He thought about what The Court wanted most, and despite his better judgment he was going to hand it to them.
The way their government was supposed to work was each King had a vote, and The Court as a whole counted as two votes, making sure there would never be a tie and that the Kings united still retained the majority share.
"I have idea," Leith explained. He stepped around Lorn before he could talk himself out of it. "Lorn go to Darten as planned and then Court have controlling vote. Court keep Evermore safe, and get freedom choose next move." Leith said it as casually as he could manage even though the thought made his stomach knot.
Born, Yael, and the rest looked at him with calculating eyes. Leith felt like they were taking him apart and examining every inch. He took a half-step back before he could stop himself.
After a few nods passed between the group, Born stood. "There's not much time left before Ivar gets here, you better get things settled before you leave young Lorn."
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: DEVIDED
From where Seth was perched, in one of the few tall trees left this close to Evermore, he could see the Crystal Tower in the distance. The wall built on the backs of dead yetis blocked most of it, but the top glowed like a beacon, teasing Seth. He wanted to be on the other side of the wall looking down on all that he had conquered. The wall, the soldiers behind it, The Guardian, The Keeper, none of them would keep him at bay. Even Ivar behind him wouldn't get in his way.
Their contingent of two hundred were spread out in the marsh, taking one final rest before making the last push to Evermore. Seth needed the time to evaluate his surroundings. The win at Caledonia and Sartis had made Ivar cocky, self-assured. It worried Seth. He knew the loss would make the Kings more cautious and determined.
Seth caught the scent of two of his brothers coming in from the direction of the city. It must have been the scouts he'd sent off days ago. Seth slid down the trunk of the tree he was sitting in, his claws cutting grooves into the pale gray bark as he descended. The yeti hit the ground hard, kicking up mud and leaves as he landed. He bent his knees to cushion the impact and took off running as soon as his feet were on solid ground.
As the cold wind whipped through his fur, Seth dove around trees and jumped over fallen branches so fast the world was a blur. He let instinct guide him and just ran. It was the only time he felt truly free and alive. Fighting quenched a burning in his chest and joints, but running released his mind from the incessant internal bickering between man and beast.
It didn't take long before Seth got close enough to the scouts to hear the pounding of their hearts. In a playful mood, Seth veered off his collision course. His brothers matched the turn. Seth circled around so the scouts had to double back to catch up. They adjusted quickly as Seth knew they would, and he became the hunted. The momentary pulse of fear was exciting, but he was reminded of the work that had to be done. Seth stopped his foolish game and waited for his brothers to catch him.
Despite the roundabout path, when they caught up, neither was breathing hard. Life on the move, away from the mountain, had done the yetis good. It had turned excess fat into hard muscle, honed skills wasted on hunting caribou into tools ready for stalking the most cunning humans. Even these two, who were without the gift of human speech, were enhanced by their experiences out in the world.
They lowered their heads in respect for Seth. He gave them each a pat on the shoulder. He was not like father. Cruelty was not Seth's first choice. It was just a tool in his belt.
"Group left city," the younger yeti, his extended claws still had the sharpness of a teenager, said in a series of howls and grunts.
"One smelled of power," the other yeti relayed. He had a streak of gray fur that ran from his left eye down to his chin. It was covering an old scar that had just missed blinding the yeti on the left side.
Seth didn't like the news. One of the three kings left. Cornelius wanted them all captured, and Seth was more than happy to see the task done. If he sent some of his men after the wayward king, it would weaken their attack on the city.
"You," Seth grunted to the youngster, "follow the group, return in three days. You tell Father." Seth knew they could understand human speech, but amongst his brothers he preferred language that felt more natural to his tongue.
The scouts nodded, both patting Seth's shoulder. The teenager hesitated before leaving, tension rolling off him in waves.
“Be careful brother,” he growled. He looked around as if expecting to be attacked. “These woods hold strange dangers.”
The scarred yeti grunted his agreement but refused to meet Seth’s gaze. Seth wanted to question them further, but the two scouts took off running before he could.
Seth knew the Kings were implementing their own plans and nothing good could come of it. It was time to kick Ivar into motion. Evermore needed to be conquered quickly.
01110000
Ivar's destination was clear. His group had less than a day's march to reach the gates of Evermore. It was with a heavy heart that Lorn made his final preparations to leave. Cornelius and his mountain of armed yetis were a bigger threat than Ivar. Lorn couldn’t sit around and wait for things to be settled in Evermore.
Leith had his new weapon ready to use against the yetis, but it would still take a lot to keep the city safe. It would take even more to make Darten's border battle ready. Lorn was no negotiator, yet he was going, without Jonathan, to a land he was unfamiliar with to deal with a man who had been born and raised to rule Darten as he saw fit. Lorn could only hope their meeting went smoothly.
"Don't look so worried," Tycho urged, "it makes me nervous."
Lorn forced a smile. "I didn't think anything could do that."
"Even an old war dog like me gets the occasional twinge in the stomach," Tycho said, rubbing his belly.
He wore new dragon scale armor. The talented leather workers of Evermore made dragon scale armor in a green and black pattern that was more conducive to jungle warfare. His twin axes were strapped across his wide, muscular back. Tycho wore a short blade on his left hip. His black boots were laced up tight to mid-calf. His graying hair was cut down until it was nothing but peach fuzz. Despite the fierce shadow Tycho cast, his eyes were soft as he looked out at the group getting ready in front of him.
Lorn felt so relieved to have the older Caledonian with him. Tycho had given up so much already to follow the Heirs. He'd made the brave and selfless move to allow his son-in-law to run the Rangers while he stayed in Evermore. He'd left his family and homeland without complaint. Here again he was leaving the relative safety of Evermore's wall to follow Lorn into a sketchy situation.
"Thanks for coming with me," Lorn blurted, hoping he didn't sound too emotional. "It really means a lot. You really mean a lot. To me." Lorn didn't know if he was making any sense.
"I, uh," Tycho cleared his throat. He wrapped Lorn in a brief half hug. "It's an honor to serve with you as my king and friend."
Lorn smiled. Friendship was more than he could have ever hoped for from a man like Tycho. Someone so experienced, brave, and strong. It was a gift Lorn would treasure forever. Before he could voice such thoughts, Leith came running toward them from the direction of The Tower.
"Yetis here. Gathering by gates. Blocking em'" Leith huffed. Alarm bells rang across the city punctuating the warning.
"How did that...?" Lorn shook his head. "Never mind. Time for us to move out. Which way?"
Leith pointed. "East gate. Take em' longest get to."
Tycho stepped forward, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Everyone move out asap. East gate. Now. Move it!"
His words lit a fire under everyone. The scene was controlled chaos, people weaving around each other to line up with their assigned squads, dragging gear, throwing it on mounts. Squad leaders mentally checked off their members making sure everyone was accounted for before marching them as directed, toward the
east gate.
Lorn fought the urge to look back at The Tower, to his mother. He had hoped to say goodbye one more time, but now it was too late. Lysander had sneaked off in the night, now he was being forced out too fast. He couldn't shake the feeling that it was his last time in the city. Maybe it was just nerves, but Lorn knew the odds were stacked against them. Success was a dream too far off to even contemplate.
He was left looking at Leith knowing the worry on his brother's face matched his own. "We’ll buy you as much time as we can,” Lorn assured his fellow Heir. “Be safe. Move swift," he repeated the familiar admonition to ease the fear in his gut.
"And you," Leith agreed. They embraced, though the moment they separated Lorn already felt the ache of being away from his brother. He sucked in air through gritted teeth, scooped up his bow and arrows, then took off after Tycho.
Lorn found his squad, Samantha, Mevra, Allana, Kasis, Dexter, and Connor. They were huddled at the back of the field waiting for him. "I want a clean exit guys," he told them on the run. "So, split up and guard the gate. Keep any strays back as far as you can. We need to give the city troops as much time as we can."
"Got it," they said, and they split. Lorn didn't have to worry because he knew they were more than capable of accomplishing the task.
Paley reached his side as he caught up with Tycho. Lorn did a double take, surprised to find Daycia's apprentice running with them.
"Didn't know you were coming with."
Paley shrugged, sending her raven hair cascading over her shoulders, reminding him so much of Daycia. "Someone has to be focused on protecting you."
"I don't need protection."
"Try again."
"Thank you," Lorn said, grateful to have her skills and her stubbornness on his side.
"The cavalry will spearhead the charge out," Tycho said, pulling the conversation back to business. "Once they hit the T they'll spread out and guard until we pass."