by Frank Morin
Connor did his part to help while trying not to feel guilty that he rode in comfort, shielded from the wind in the comfortable, warm cockpit while Verena rode in the open windrider.
The people of Faulenrost had worked through the night to pack those windriders. Connor appreciated their diligence, although he didn’t fool himself into thinking any of it was for him. They loved Jean and Verena like local heroines and treated Hamish like a favorite celebrity son. Gisela, who remained in Faulenrost with Jean’s leadership team, promised to keep production going during their absence.
She’d gifted to Hamish and Verena a pair of small, sculpted obsidian stones. Those tiny stones excited the two Builders more than the packed spare windriders they towed. Hamish had explained that sculpted obsidian allowed them to control other mechanicals remotely and would prove extremely useful.
Kilian passed Connor another strudel, and he saluted in Verena’s direction before taking a big bite for her.
They slowed to a hover above the huge square in front of the central palace. In his suit, Hamish flitted to all the tethered windriders and reduced their lift force so everyone could settle for a landing together. Huge crowds gathered along the fringes of the square, craning their necks to watch the marvelous flying wagons. Flying was becoming a commonplace part of Connor’s life, but to most people it was still a miraculous new wonder.
Anika waited for them in the square, dressed in her normal battle leathers, with an additional, fur-lined cloak. She actually bounced on her toes in excitement. With her long, braided hair, cheeks rosy from the cold, and ridiculously happy smile, she looked a lot younger.
Tomas, Cameron, and Erich waited nearby, looking completely at ease with each other. They’d battled each other as enemies enough times to learn to respect one another. Connor wished he’d been around to join in their recent training bouts.
As soon as they landed, Verena rushed to Anika, who lifted her off the ground in a bear hug, laughing loudly. They talked and laughed in fast Grandurian. Connor caught the words “engaged”, “happy”, and of course Rory’s name a dozen times.
He’d long marveled at the budding romance between the two, but had never imagined they’d actually find a way to legally get together. Well, Rory had been forced to start a revolution and declare war on the queen and all the high houses to do it. Connor hoped that Verena wouldn’t expect him to overthrow any other sovereign nations to prove his love for her.
As Connor and the others all shared happy greetings with Anika and the three warriors, Mattias held back, looking surprised by their evident friendship.
Erich saluted him and said in his broken Obrioner, “No have fear, Lord Mattias. Many good bash fight prove strength. Is good revolution.”
Mattias scanned the square and grinned ruefully. “The wonders will never cease.”
Tomas said to Connor, “We’ll assign guards to watch your wagons until you’re ready to unload. General Rory wants to speak with you right away.”
His tone seemed unusually grave, so Connor asked, “What’s the situation?”
Cameron said, “Raiding party just returned.”
Erich added, “Commander Lukas and his men are missing.”
Connor exchanged a worried look with Verena. “Take us to them.”
They hurried into the central palace and up one of the two central high towers. Rory and Ivor were meeting in Ivor’s plush office with Ilse. They all looked relieved to see Connor and the others, especially Kilian. Ilse nearly burst into tears of gratitude when he entered the room.
Verena rushed to Ilse and hugged her. “What happened?”
Ivor gestured them all to take seats near the fire. When Mattias hesitated he said, “That’s about all the protocol you’ll probably get here, Lord Mattias. We save it for the parades. We know who you are, and you know us. Since you’re here, we’ll assume you’re here to help.”
Once they sat, Ivor said, “We’ve been sallying out of the city to monitor the advancing army and to harry and delay them when possible.”
“Harley’s with them?” Connor asked.
Ivor nodded. “Caught a couple glimpses of her in the distance. Wish I’d had a pair of those long-vision goggles.”
Kilian said, “Captain Ilse, your team is specially trained for these types of high-risk missions. What happened?”
She said, “Our initial excursions went exactly as planned.
Ivor added, “I wouldn’t want to tangle with Harley over dry ground, but this time of year, with so much snow everywhere, I could shield us entirely from her senses. We used the underwater Slide to move through the river to get close enough to observe and to strike.”
“She must have Spitters,” Mattias said.
Ivor nodded. “Several, but at first they weren’t focused on defending against our incursions. I managed to slip through their perimeter without too much trouble.”
Rory said, “They gained critical intelligence. High Lord Dougal himself leads the army. Shona is with them too.”
“So is Harley in charge, or Dougal?” Connor asked.
Rory said, “It’s not entirely clear, but that’s an important question. Harley might be happy to level Merkland to drive us out, but Dougal will want to preserve it, if possible.”
Ilse said, “Once we realized we could slip close to them without detection, we risked sallying from the river with Ivor shielding us through the snow. We took down two Spitters and a Firetongue who got lazy.”
Ivor grimaced. “I’m afraid we got a bit overconfident. Lukas took a four-man squad back for another strike at a Sentry who had drifted from the main camp. It was a bold move, but could have won an important victory.”
The Crushers, led by Ilse and Lukas, were trained specifically for those high-risk attacks against tertiary Petralists, but Connor still felt impressed. Lukas had dared to try attacking a Sentry just outside of a huge army led by none other than Harley herself.
“What happened?” Verena asked.
Ivor shrugged. “Not entirely sure. The Spitters in camp struck out in their first well-coordinated effort to sweep the area for our team. They caught a hint of us and we were forced to dive back underwater in the Slide. Once we started moving, I made sure to give them a hint of our presence to keep them focused on us instead of Lukas. It got rough.”
He grimaced and Ilse blanched. Connor had seen her face terrifying odds against powerful armies unafraid, but he’d noticed on their trip away from the Carraig that she hated riding on the Slide. Floating so completely disconnected from the earth seemed to rattle her.
Ivor continued, “They came at us with a vengeance. Spitters hit the river hard and Sentries struck too, blindly driving earthen obstructions up from the bottom. Nearly skewered us. We only just barely escaped.”
“So Lukas might have slipped away during all that commotion?” Connor asked. He would have assumed the worst for anyone else, but the Crushers’ tenacity and cleverness was legendary. If only they knew the secret of pumice. Their chances of survival would climb dramatically.
“It’s possible,” Ilse said, but looked like she didn’t quite dare believe it.
“What can we do to find him?” Verena asked.
Ilse said, “We’ve got Pathfinders scouring the countryside, but if he escaped, he would have struck west to get as much distance from the army as possible. The hills and forest are too thick that way to see him yet.”
Hamish immediately offered, “We’ll scout from the air. If he’s out there, we’ll spot him.”
“Thank you,” Ilse said with obvious relief.
Kilian said, “If there’s any chance at recovering his team, we’ll take it. This is only the first challenge we’ll have to overcome in the days ahead. Thank you Ilse for risking so much to help.”
She nodded her thanks and Kilian said, “What is the status here in the city, and how long before Dougal and his army arrive?”
Ivor said, “They’ve been pushing hard. They could potentially launch their first ass
ault as early as tomorrow some time.”
Rory said, “Looks like they’ve stripped Crann and picked up everyone we released. They’re pushing close to thirty thousand troops, with maybe two thousand Petralists in the vanguard.”
That was fast. Connor hadn’t expected them to draw so close for at least another week. They were about to face an army as big as the one that had attacked Altkalen, but without a carefully planned defense. Plus, there was no guaranteeing all of their troops supported their cause with enough commitment to face those type of odds without cracking.
As if reading his thoughts, Mattias asked, “And what of Merkland? How are all of Dougal’s lesser lords and ladies positioned?”
Rory said, “We’re actually in better shape than I had expected. Lord Nevan is Dougal’s administrator, a clever fellow who I’ve always respected. He doesn’t approve of the way we’re challenging the status quo and is still resisting the idea that patronage is an entire fabrication. However, he supports the idea of resisting the queen’s usurpation of the crown and her assault on the noble houses. She represents a clear enough danger to the future of Obrion that he has thrown in support with us, especially after he learned Granadure would support our effort.”
Connor was surprised. “Really? He’s willing to risk his neck to help Guardians revolt?”
Ivor shook his head. “He doesn’t like the idea of Guardians gaining freedom, but the queen’s worse. She could easily kill him, mind-wipe him, or cast him out of his comfortable life.”
Rory said, “Lord Logan eagerly joined us, and with those two on board, Lord Torcall couldn’t bear not to throw in his support. He bears watching, but as long as the other two remain firm, I don’t think he’d dare cross us unless the situation turns so dire he’ll see advantage in taking the risk.”
Ivor said, “We’ve got over ten thousand troops, with over a thousand Petralists and Guardians.”
“That’s a huge disadvantage,” Mattias muttered.
Ivor nodded. “Dougal’s army will hold a clear advantage if we have to meet them in a head-on bash fight, and with Harley they’ll own earth. We control soapstone, though, and with all the snow and with the river right beside the battlefield, that may give us a critical advantage.”
Connor nodded slowly as he calculated different ways they could plan for the battle. Between Kilian, Ivor, and himself, plus the Spitters in Rory’s army and the pair of Water Moccasins in the Crushers, they could spank Dougal’s Spitters. Even if Connor and Kilian had to focus entirely on countering Harley, Ivor and the others could own water.
Assuming, of course, that he could get his tertiary affinities to work. In the last five days of frantic practice, he’d managed a little better. Pumice was the critical element, and he had plenty of that, but he still didn’t consider himself ready to face Harley. Any hesitation, any flicker of his tertiary powers, and she’d crush him.
Ilse gestured toward the large desk near the window. “We were beginning to run possible battle scenarios just before you arrived. The key will be to isolate Harley and deal with her. If we can accomplish that, we stand a better than even chance of winning the day.”
Kilian said, “That will be our greatest challenge. Harley was a top general and veteran of the Tallan wars before her long sleep. She’s as crafty as she is powerful. Taking her will prove challenging.”
“More than challenging, and that’s if things go well,” Connor said, thinking back to his fight against her in Althing. She’d absorbed terrific amounts of damage and healed remarkably fast. She’d toyed with him for most of that fight. He doubted she’d give him that kind of leeway again.
Her abrupt departure from Raufarhofn still bothered him. Was she really just respecting the queen’s wish to develop him into a worthy servant, or had he really hurt her? Was there a key to defeating her in that previous battle somewhere?
If it was, he couldn’t see it yet.
“Has Craigroy said anything useful?” Connor asked.
Rory grunted. “Not hardly. That man is a crafty Tallan spawn. Even though he’s locked up, I sometimes think we’d be better off having thrown him over the wall.”
Ivor added, “We’ve tried talking with him, but get nothing useful. Lord Nevan even offered to try, but he reported no better luck.”
Kilian’s expression turned thoughtful. “Keep him in isolation until this battle is over. We don’t want him confusing anyone or trying to pass information out to Dougal.”
“I’ll make it happen,” Rory said. He rose and fetched the papers, spreading them on a smaller table that they positioned between all of their chairs.
They spent the next hour reviewing the intelligence that Ilse and Ivor and the Crushers had gathered with so much risk. They reviewed lists of resources in the city, discussed the city’s primary defensive strategies, and reviewed the many mechanicals Connor’s team had brought with them from Faulenrost.
Eventually Kilian leaned back in his chair and said, “We’ve got the makings of a solid plan here, but don’t underestimate Harley. She’s a battle-hardened Petralist, with a hundred years’ experience more than I do. She was one of my battle instructors, actually.”
Connor grimaced, struggling to wrap his thoughts around that fact. Kilian had always seemed a man apart, someone who the regular rules did not apply to, someone who could accomplish whatever he decided to do.
Was he suggesting Harley might be tougher?
Most of the others exchanged uneasy glances. Hamish broke the silence. “You can defeat her, though. Right?”
“Perhaps.” Kilian let the single word hang in the air, and Connor’s sense of dread deepened. Kilian finally added, “She’ll have to limit how much she draws upon earth, and that might offer us our best advantage. Still, she wasn’t my mother’s most trusted general for no reason. Of all the mightiest Petralists, she was always considered the most dangerous.”
Hamish grimaced and said, “I think we need better thinking food. Happy-thought thinking food.”
Connor heartily agreed, and the others chimed in support. Ivor ordered some refreshments and he was happy to see a lot of desserts on the trays sent up from the kitchens.
As they ate, Verena gestured at the papers and notes scattered all across the table. “We understand the challenge, so how do we isolate her and remove her?”
That was the big question. As they all considered how best to answer it, a knock sounded on the door and Tomas pushed it open without waiting for a response.
He saluted, then held up a scroll in a waterproof case. “General, we just received a messenger from High Lord Dougal.”
Rory took it and Connor was tempted to read it over his shoulder, but forced himself to wait as Rory scanned its contents. His craggy face fell into a frown.
“What?” Connor and Verena asked together. He almost didn’t want to know. Dougal was devilishly clever and had a way of twisting situations to his benefit, even when it seemed impossible.
“It’s not from Dougal. It’s from Harley.”
He handed the scroll to Ilse and said, “She has Lukas, and she’s coming to parley.”
75
Parley with Harley
As the mid-afternoon sun plunged toward the distant horizon, Connor stood five miles south of Merkland on the wide road to Crann, dressed in his battle leathers, affinity stones ready, nerves knotting his stomach. The air had grown colder, and heavy clouds darkened the sky to the north. He smelled snow on the stiff wind blowing south from the Maclachlan mountains. Another storm would strike during the night.
Kilian and Aifric flanked him, while Rory and Ilse stood just in front, with a dozen Crushers and an equal number of Fast Rollers in twin formations close behind. The grim soldiers fingered weapons, all eyes locked on the road to the south where Harley’s company was approaching for the parley, riding atop a wide, squat tower of earth.
Connor glanced up to check that Verena, Hamish, and Dierk were ready. Verena held position over their left flank, above the river
in her new Swift, quadruple speedslings already tracking toward the distant Harley. Hamish and Dierk rode in the Hawk a hundred feet above, and fifty yards to their right.
Harley had stated she wished to talk and to offer an exchange for Lukas’s life, but if the meeting turned violent, they were prepared to hit her with overwhelming force before she could do the same to them.
Verena had distributed to everyone the mini-hubs they’d developed during their fighting against Dougal in Granadure. The clever mechanicals each had several small speakstones attached in a circular pattern, with a rotating keystone in the center. Turning the keystone could activate the various speakstones they wanted to use. Connor wore his mini-hub strapped to his arm, and he turned the dial to Ivor’s paired stone. “Ivor, are you in position?”
“Ready and monitoring,” came the immediate reply. Ivor was concealed under the river in the Slide, ready to strike from the flanks with water if it came to a fight. Kilian would take fire.
That left Connor to help Ilse face Harley with earth. He tried not to show how much that though terrified him. He was already tapping slate. Earth stood before him, feet sunk into the frozen ground, looking as indomitable as ever.
Those waves of red and green energy swirling across his back made Connor nervous, though. He had already activated pumice, its power bubbling through him like the energetic Upper Wick. His earth senses extended in a half circle from the river on his left, arcing across to the hills a mile to his right. The connection wobbled with every fresh wave of green power, though.
Ilse had glanced at him twice already, worry creasing her brow in a silent question. He’d smiled and insisted he was fine. She knew the truth, but would not allow her worries to interfere with getting her husband back, no matter the danger.