Sentinals Rising: Book Two of the Sentinal series

by Helen Garraway

  “Quickly now, lass,” Jenkins said, and immediately the air smelt of burning flesh and Jerrol convulsed in agony. White hot pain seared through him and a heart-rending groan escaped his mouth as he bit the leather. He gasped for breath as sweat drenched him and he shuddered violently. Jenkins fought to keep him still as he writhed until his body went limp as he slipped into blessed pain-free darkness.

  Jenkins exhaled a deep breath and cleared his throat. “That’s it. I’ll stick the blade back in the fire. Let me check you got it all.” Jenkins laid Jerrol’s limp body on the grass and moved over to check Taelia’s work.

  “Is he alright?” Taelia asked, her face pale. She swallowed, obviously trying not to throw up. Her hand shook, white-knuckled around the blade, as Jenkins eased it out of her grip. It had taken all her determination to continue, knowing that stopping would have been worse.

  “Unconscious,” Jenkins grinned in relief, “best way. We got one bit left and then job done.” There was a short sizzle, and Taelia shuddered.

  “I don’t think I’ll be able to listen to meat roasting on a spit ever again,” she said, her voice trembling.

  “You did well. He won’t forget it; you saved his life tonight.” Jenkins wrapped Jerrol’s hand in the strips of cloth.

  “So did you, Corporal Jenkins. I couldn’t have done it without you. Thank you.”

  “Least I could do,” he said, his voice gruff as he tied off the material and folded the arm across Jerrol’s blood-stained jacket. “Any chance you got a larger square of material I could use as a sling? Probably best to tie his arm out of the way so he doesn’t try to use it. These feisty captains sometimes don’t know what’s good for them.”

  Taelia laughed shakily and stood up. She stepped out of the remains of her petticoat. “Is this large enough?”

  “That should do the trick,” he said, taking the cloth. He took the knife and split the seam of Jerrol’s sleeve. The swollen arm strained the material. He didn’t mention it as he concentrated on tying the cloth around Jerrol’s neck and strapping his arm across his chest so he couldn’t move it. He propped Jerrol more comfortably against the tree and heaved a sigh.

  “That’s him sorted, for now. Best put the fire out.” He scattered the embers and tossed the last of the blood-tinged water on to them.

  Taelia felt her way over to Jerrol and snuggled up to his left-hand side and faced Jenkins. She listened to Jerrol’s slow breathing. His body was relaxed. There was no longer the awful rigidity she had felt when she had first pressed the blade against his skin. “Where did you meet Jerrol?”

  “I came with Scholar Torsion to relieve the Tower. King’s Rangers, Second Battalion. Corporal Jenkins.”

  “Well, you are seconded to the Captain’s Guard, now. He doesn’t tend to let his men get away.” Her voice faltered as she remembered what Jerrol had said earlier. There were not going to be any good memories from this day.

  “Best we try to sleep. Be a long day tomorrow.”

  Jerrol opened his eyes and looked up at the underside of the Lady’s chin. He lay in her arms under a very tall tree. “My Lady?”

  “Finally!” she snapped. “Captain, you have to stop all this melodrama. I can’t be rescuing you all the time.”

  “I’d prefer it if you rescued those in need, my Lady.”

  “Everyone has their part to play. Don’t you listen to your young lady? Some don’t have the endings you want. Doesn’t mean they aren’t right all the same.”

  Jerrol inhaled sharply and Leyandrii’s face softened. “I picked you because of who you are and for the greatness of your heart, but that doesn’t mean you’re not dense on occasion.” She stood up and dumped him on the ground.

  Jerrol rolled to his feet and flexed his mangled hand. The pain was a mere echo. Leyandrii smoothed her hand over it. “It will take time to heal, but it won’t hinder you if you don’t let it,” she promised.

  “I lost Serillion,” Jerrol faltered, his voice breaking. “And Birlerion.”

  “I know. Serillion will be safe with me. He performed magnificently, didn’t he? You should be so proud.”

  “Proud?” Jerrol gasped, aghast.

  “Of course,” the Lady said. “You sealed the Veil. Very well done, by the way. Remargaren is safe for a bit longer. It was what Serillion was born for. Don’t take away his greatest triumph; celebrate it.”

  “Are they here? With You?” Jerrol searched the glade frantically.

  “Don’t be silly. This is the betwixt space. Serillion is on the other side. Know that he reveres you. Birlerion overdid it a bit. I think he panicked. You would think he’d get better with practice. I’ll have words with him. Maybe next time he’ll be more careful.”

  “Next time?”

  The Lady shrugged. “There are limits to what I can do. You will heal quickly and cleanly; the infection will clear in a few days. You could have lost your arm. You must be more careful,” she chided. “Make sure you wrap up warm.”

  “Why?” he asked, but the glade shimmered around him and he jerked back to awareness in the darkened camp, conscious of Taelia tucked up against him, fast asleep. He went to smooth her hair out of her face, but he couldn’t move his arm. It was strapped against his chest, and she had his other arm pinned under her body. The familiar weight of his sword at his waist made him relax, and he held her more tightly. Taelia smiled in her sleep and sighed. His hand throbbed painfully, reminding him that he hadn’t dreamt any of it.

  He looked across the glade and saw Jenkins on guard.

  “Corporal, rest. We are safe enough here. No one will find us.”

  Jenkins jerked round. “Captain,” he whispered, not wanting to wake the girl. “I heard them searching earlier. Best not to take any risks.”

  “I understand. The Lady watches for us tonight; get some sleep. We’ll talk about it in the morning. That’s an order, Corporal.”

  “Yes, sir.” Jenkins snapped a salute and searched for a soft tree root to lay against.

  43

  Watch Towers

  The next morning, Jerrol awoke to the aroma of coffee. He lay adjusting to the burning sensation in his hand, the flush of heat running through his body, and the overwhelming sense of loss and exhaustion. He opened bleary eyes, frowning in surprise as he saw Tagerill standing over him, watching him with concern.

  “Tagerill,” he croaked, his mouth dry. “When did you arrive? How did you find us?”

  Tagerill crouched down and helped him sit up. His face tightened and Jerrol tried to reassure him. He was sure he looked a mess. He certainly felt like one.

  Tagerill beat him to it. “Birlerion completely freaked Ari out. He arrived in Deepwater frantic, so I hot-footed it down here.” He held out a mug of water and Jerrol took it, his hand trembling. Gratefully, he gulped it down and leaned back against the tree, staring in front of him.

  “I lost Serillion,” he said. “You should have seen him. He was magnificent.”

  “I know. We felt him go,” Tagerill said as an expression of intense grief flashed across his face. He paused, watching Jerrol. “What happened to Saerille? Do you know?”

  “She’s safe. She won’t come out, but she is recovering. We need to go to Stoneford.”

  “Where’s Birlerion?”

  Jerrol shuddered. “I lost him too,” he whispered.

  Tagerill stilled. “When?”

  “Last night.” Jerrol closed his eyes.

  Tagerill glanced across at Jenkins. “You didn’t see a Sentinal amongst the bodies at the Towers, did you?”

  “There was no one there except the Watchers, a young girl, a couple of young lads, and quite a few injured rangers. It looks like the big man took the rest of the rangers with him. Well, the ones who could stand. Someone disabled most of ‘em,” Jenkins said.

  “Did you find Torsion?” Jerrol asked.

  Jenkins frowned at him. “Scholar Torsion? No, he weren’t there either.”

  “I thought I saw him.” Jerrol rubbed his
eyes. “I don’t remember. I think I saw him. He tried to help me.” He dropped his hand and stared at Tagerill. “We need to go to Stoneford, speak to Jason. Get him to send some help up here; the Watchers need to be protected.”

  Tagerill nodded. “I had intended going straight to Deepwater, but Stoneford will do. Healer Tyrone will help you. We nearly lost you, Captain. You must be more careful.”

  Jerrol grimaced. “I try, but my life just doesn’t seem to find ‘careful’ very often.” He tried to rise, and Tagerill cupped a hand under his arm and helped him up. He swayed dizzily. Tagerill helped him over to the ditch to relieve himself before escorting him back to his tree, where he sagged, exhausted and shivery.

  “I think we should go straight to Deepwater. You can recuperate there.”

  “I must go to Stoneford first,” Jerrol insisted. He suddenly sat up as he realized he couldn’t feel Zin’talia’s soft touch. “Where is Zin’talia?” He reached out in a panic, but there was only silence; she wasn’t there. Swallowing a curse, he tried to stand. “We have to find her.”

  Tagerill restrained him easily. “We will find her,” he soothed.

  Taelia hovered over him. “Coffee?” She held out a mug above his head. Tagerill took the mug and passed it to Jerrol.

  “Are you alright?” Jerrol asked, watching her face hungrily.

  “Me?” she exclaimed, reaching for him. “I’m fine. You are the one we need to be worrying about.”

  “I’ll be alright. I’m assured the infection will go down in a couple of days.”

  “Well, you will be careful for the next month or so whilst you recuperate or I’ll be having words with the king,” Taelia said, offering him another cup.

  “What’s that?” he asked, eyeing her with some suspicion as he placed his mug on the ground.

  “Pain relief; enough to get you onto a horse and back to Stoneford, anyway. Drink it.”

  Jerrol drank it under her beady eye, exhausted enough to accept being told what to do. She stood over him, waiting, he realized, for the draught concealed in the drink and now lingering on his tongue to take effect. She had laced it with enough poppy juice, which Tagerill must have had the forethought to bring with him, to knock him out.

  Jerrol’s eyes drooped, the strain easing, and he tried to grimace as he heard the concern in Tagerill’s voice, but everything faded. “Masterfully done, my lady. It’s not often you see the Captain bettered.”

  Taelia snorted. “Make the most of it. It’ll probably be the only time.”

  “This last month has taken its toll. He looks as if he’ll smash into pieces if he falls over.”

  “He is exhausted and hurting.” Taelia crouched to cup Jerrol’s face. “Do you think we will reach Stoneford before he wakes up?”

  “Of course, we could take him to Deepwater. My Sentinal is waiting for him. The Captain opened up the Waystones. It will shorten the journey significantly.” Tagerill grinned.

  “A Waystone?” Taelia asked, wrinkling her nose.

  “That’s how I got here so fast. I found the one in Deepwater; I heard the chime. I warned them at Stoneford about what has happened. I have a troop waiting for us at the Towers.”

  “Heard the what?” Taelia asked, confused.

  “The Waystone. When you cross the line, it chimes so that you know it’s available. Almost fell off my horse. Haven’t heard that sound in years; gave me a shock, you know?”

  “How would he know how to open a Waystone?”

  “The Captain amazes me every day,” Tagerill said, observing the sleeping man. A sheen of sweat coated Jerrol’s face. “Just by him being present, things happen that wouldn’t normally occur. The Lady watches. All we can do is support him.”

  Taelia stirred. “He blamed himself for Serillion and Birlerion, for your injury. He seemed to think he had caused it all.”

  “There is no getting away from it. Life is interesting around the Captain. He is a catalyst. The Lady drives him, and we are here to help him, but he carries the burden. If we can help balance out that burden just a little, then we can make his job easier. He is Captain for a reason. We have to sustain him so he can complete whatever the Lady is asking of him.”

  “What more can she want of him? He is just a man. He can only take so much. You can see he is at his limit.”

  “I am sure she knows what we are all capable of.” Tagerill looked around the small camp. “Stay here. I need to find Birlerion. I’m not leaving him here.”

  Tagerill walked down to the towers. A quick sortie confirmed that only injured rangers remained; they had broken bones and concussion, nothing that would kill.

  “What happened?” he asked a groaning sergeant, who was trying to help his men back to their barracks.

  The sergeant scowled at him. “One of your types took us all out. Can’t believe it. Single-handed, he did it. And do you know what? He didn’t kill a single one of us. Then one of them Ascendants took him out. He retaliated, hit us with something. It was a blinding flash, knocked us flat, when we woke up, they were all gone. It was like waking from a dream.”

  “Be thankful you are not dead,” Tagerill growled. “Where is the Sentinal now?”

  The sergeant shrugged and then held his head. “The Ascendants took the Sentinal with them, it took two of them to overpower him.”

  Tagerill’s stomach clenched.

  “What about the scholar?”

  “Dunno. If he’s not here, they must have taken him too.” The sergeant dropped his head in his hands and groaned in pain. “I have the worst headache.”

  “It will pass. It’s the after effect of Mentiserium. They had you enspelled to do their bidding. Birlerion was protecting the Captain against you. You were lucky he didn’t kill you.” Tagerill was amazed Birlerion hadn’t injured them worse, and he had broken the spell, how had he done that?

  Tagerill walked back out of the gates. A flash in the road caught his eye and he hurried towards it, slowing as he saw a sword. Birlerion’s sword stuck point-down in the dirt. He pulled it out and looked around him. Birlerion was still alive; he knew it. There wasn’t the same aching emptiness he felt when he thought of Serillion.

  He rotated, senses impossibly questing, but there was no sign of Birlerion.

  They slowly made their way out of the trees. Taelia clung on to Tagerill’s horse as it picked its way down to the road, and Tagerill and Jenkins lifted their makeshift drag over the uneven terrain. Once they reached the road, Tagerill took the reins and strode down towards the Towers, casting frequent glances at his semi-conscious friend. Jenkins trotted behind, making sure Jerrol didn’t fall off.

  At the Towers, the healer’s assistant took one look at Jerrol and said there was nothing he could do. They needed to get him to Healer Tyrone as quickly as possible, though he did redress Jerrol’s hand and strap it against his chest more firmly. They picked up the Stoneford guards, leaving half to help the healer with the injured rangers.

  Mary reassured Taelia that she was fine, having slept through everything, and set to convincing Taelia to let her stay. “I was only here as a chaperone, and you don’t need that now Torsion has gone. The work still needs doing, and if I’m here it will be easier to keep it going. You can ask the Deane to send some more help.”

  Taelia allowed herself to be persuaded. More concerned about Jerrol than translating old text. She chivied Tagerill to get moving, not that he needed any encouragement and they left the Towers in Mary’s capable hands.

  It took them two days. They skirted the town of Velmouth and headed straight for Stoneford, arriving as the sun set behind the crenulated stone keep that rose behind the small grove of Sentinals. Tagerill breathed a sigh of relief as the building came into sight. Jerrol had become restless over the last few miles, muttering in his sleep, calling out and flinging his arm out. Jenkins had to tuck him back in, repeatedly.

  Tyrone hurried across the courtyard as they arrived, word having been passed down by the sentries on the wall. He took one look at
the feverish man and took the end of the drag carrying Jerrol as Tagerill released it and helped hustle them inside.

  He took them straight through to the back room where they gently transferred Jerrol onto the table.

  “What happened?” Tyrone asked, his mouth tightening as he took in Jerrol’s tumultuous pulse and soaring temperature, instructing his assistant to set up a drip.

  Taelia paled as she explained that a man called Ain’uncer had chopped off two of Jerrol’s fingers, how they had cauterized the wounds as they wouldn’t stop bleeding, and that she had drugged him to get him here because he was in some sort of shock.

  Tyrone peered at her from under his bushy eyebrows. “I think you need to go and eat something. All of you, go freshen up and find some food. I’m sure Jason will want a report on what’s happened.”

  “I don’t think I could face any food,” Taelia said with revulsion.

  “You’ll find you will want it when the food’s in front of you,” Tyrone said. “Off you go.”

  He waited until Tagerill had escorted her out of his infirmary before turning back to Jerrol. He began unwrapping Jerrol’s hand, hissing at the sight of the jagged bones sticking out the ends of two of his fingers. No wonder the poor man was in shock. Cauterizing them wouldn’t stop the pain.

  He exchanged bleak glances with his assistant. “Add some more Opii tincture. We don’t want him waking up,” he said as he began the gruesome job of cleaning up the damage.

  King’s Palace, Old Vespers

  “He did what?” King Benedict exploded, aghast.

  “Um, he annexed Terolia for Vespiri, Your Majesty. Here are the accords.” Marianille encouraged Nil’ano forward, who placed the papers on the table. Her gaze darted around the room. The new Chancellor, Prince Anders, and Scholar-Deane Liliian were also present.

  “And you thought this was a good idea?” King Benedict said, coldly calm. Prince Anders covered his mouth with his hand, trying not to laugh.