He stepped around the emperor and strode from the room. The storm of rage followed him. The other two men stayed behind, fear deciding their course for them. With the emperor on his heels, Myac made his way to the inner wall. Fresh morning air helped clear his head. He jogged up the steps, his desire to know, to understand what had happened, overpowering everything else. Rylan kept close, rage still boiling, but tempered now by the need to know what Myac was thinking.
Myac stood on the inner wall overlooking the city and closed his eyes. Rylan walked up next to him and stood silent, waiting. Reaching out with his ability, he stretched it south toward Yiloch’s camp. Who was out there? He’d done this once already, a cursory search before Rylan’s host left the city, but hadn’t found anything concerning. At this distance, with the protections they had in place, he could only feel the strongest connections, those that mattered. A number of weak adepts could be a nuisance, but not enough to make a difference to the group they’d sent after Yiloch.
He found the creator, Ian, young and stronger than most, but only marginally stronger than the four who’d gone with the host. There were several adepts and creators of notable strength, at least thirteen strong enough to be troublesome. Perhaps some of them had joined to protect Yiloch.
There!
For a second, he thought he sensed another. An adept perhaps, but a second pass produced nothing. He searched again, hoping for anything to make sense of what occurred, but he found nothing new. He opened his eyes.
“Anything?”
He shook his head. “There are several strong abilities. None of them could have wielded that much power alone. It must have been a practiced synchronization. Not an easy tactic to pull off successfully.”
“Why so difficult?”
“To combine power that seamlessly, the strongest adept has to perform the working and the others must give over control of their ability to that individual. It requires substantial trust as well as perfect coordination and considerable strength on the part of the controller. Our creators layered four separate barriers over Yiloch. They weren’t combining their strength the way his must have been. An extraordinary accomplishment,” Myac added with grudging admiration.
“Yiloch is no fool.” Annoying pride came through in the emperor’s voice.
“Unfortunately, it would seem that he’s not.” He swept the distant camp one last time, a pointless effort. “The young creator must have led them. He’s the strongest.”
Rylan spun on his heel and headed down the steps, leaving Myac to stare out over the city toward their enemy. That his recommended strategy had failed so completely grated on him and the combined skills theory didn’t feel right. Very few adepts would willingly relinquish control of their power. He had to be missing something, but what? He couldn’t gather enough detail with the limitations of distance and several layers of masking. Soon, however, they would be closer and he could perhaps learn something more.
He stayed on the wall and watched city life commence. Hasty preparations were in progress for the now inevitable siege. Troops locked the city down and pulled supplies in from the surrounding area. The walls and city streets ran thick with soldiers and roads crowded with people coming in to seek protection or fleeing for fear of the city falling.
Which were making the better choice?
*
When Indigo woke again, she felt stronger. Siddael had healed her headache, but the nightmares had gotten less severe because of Yiloch. His visit diluted her horror over what she had done. It lingered in the back of her mind, but as long as she didn’t think too much about the lives she’d taken, she could feel proud of saving him.
She put her fingers to her lips, remembering his kiss. He still desired her and something in his eyes when he looked at her led her to believe mere desire was only part of the attraction. That helped her cope with the deaths she caused and the knowledge that they might not be the last.
She pulled tangles out of her hair with her fingers and straightened her clothes before leaving the side partition. On her way out, she almost collided with a woman coming from the partition where Caplin’s cot was. The woman danced to one side with the same agility she’d shown when Indigo saw her sparring with Caplin.
“Captain Eris?”
“Lady Indigo.” The amber eyes sparked with glee. “I’ve been dying to speak with you. Perhaps we could spend some time together after we take the city.”
“Perhaps…” Indigo glanced around the tent. “This is Lord Caplin’s tent, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” She held up a leather strap. “I left my belt here last night. See you on the field.”
As she skipped toward the exit, Caplin burst in, hair more disarrayed than normal and a wild look in his eyes. He stopped and stared as Eris darted past him calling, “See you on the field, handsome.”
He met Indigo’s eyes and she raised her brows in question. It appeared she wasn’t the only one fornicating with one of their allies.
“We’ll talk about that later. The main body of the army is moving soon. Prince Yiloch plans to be in position to attack by nightfall. I think it’d be best if you stayed at this camp.”
She shook her head in bewilderment. “Why would I do that?”
His brow furrowed. “I don’t know what happened last night, but if something were to happen to you…”
“Caplin, I’m a healer. I should be with the healers.”
“That isn’t where you were last night,” he snapped.
She shrank from the memory of shattered men and horses flung through the air. “I…”
He held up a hand. “There’s something going on here I don’t understand, but it’s putting you in danger. It’s as if you’ve become one of Prince Yiloch’s soldiers. What’s going on? What’s changed?”
I have.
The more she used it the more she understood how strong her ability was. With that awareness came the courage to make choices she wanted to make, to protect the prince rather than bow down to the demands everyone else made of her. She meant to help Yiloch, regardless of what that entailed.
And yet…
Her charge onto the battlefield had been foolhardy. She’d taken time to erect protective barriers along the way, but sapping her strength was suicidal. If she hadn’t had enough power to kill the creators, Yiloch would have died and she would have been at their mercy.
She shuddered.
“Indigo?”
“I can’t explain, Caplin. I…” She stopped. A faintly familiar ascard signature brushed over her. The link to the infiltrator, Ladon, had that same signature. She reinforced her masking. The touch moved on only to return almost immediately. She almost reached out to trace its source, but here her own masking and the barriers Yiloch’s creators had layered over the camp to hide the healers kept her ability hidden. Following the power it to its source might expose her.
Caplin’s hand rested on her shoulder. “What’s going on?”
She met his eyes, yearning to explain, but Yiloch asked her not to tell him. Were her loyalties so confused?
“It’s nothing.”
His gaze frosted over and she braced for more argument, but then he exhaled and the cold warmed. “Be careful. I can’t have the prince putting you in danger. He’ll use you with no thought to your safety.”
She wanted to argue, but no matter how Yiloch felt about her, his empire came first. Caplin’s words rang true, though she suspected Yiloch wouldn’t be quite that nonchalant about her safety. Caplin would never understand because she didn’t intend to explain it to him. Yiloch helped her find the courage to change her life in the short time they spent together in the prison. Even if she had no feelings for him beyond gratitude, she would help him now.
“I’ll be careful, but you must focus on your task. I can’t be a distraction to you.”
Caplin’s jaw tightened. He cupped her cheek with one hand. “I shouldn’t have let you come.”
“It’s too late for that.”
H
e took his hand away. “Grant me a favor. If you insist on coming, stay with the healers.”
“I will.” She would go wherever Yiloch needed her, but Caplin didn’t need to hear that.
The tent flaps opened and Siddael entered. He bowed to Caplin and gave her a nod, his gaze scrutinizing, assessing her condition. “Excuse the interruption, but the army is ready to march.”
Caplin nodded. “I’m ready.”
“Lady Indigo, you look rested, will you be joining us?”
She met Caplin’s eyes, his distress as clear in them as if he voiced it. She turned to Siddael. “Yes, Master Siddael, I will be.”
“Come then.”
She followed Siddael from the tent. The army waited in marching formation, catapults and ballistae brought up the river lined up at the rear. The largest catapults and trebuchets were loaded in pieces on wagons for assembly outside the city wall. Engineers still worked, building additional equipment that would follow later.
Hax rode at Yiloch’s side, Cadmar close on her flank. The rest of the captains split among other troops. Adept Captain Ferin rode at the fore of the ascard users near the center, ahead of the healers. Various lords waited at the heads of their units. Horses stomped and snorted impatiently in the charged atmosphere.
Caplin cantered up to the head of his column to mobilize them while she and Siddael jogged out to join the healers. Several other stragglers hurried into position. The prince was through waiting. She ran a gentle touch out to him along the link. A glimmer of pleasure rose through the tense anticipation in him. She smiled and withdrew. He would use her for her power, but he would never intentionally harm her. She believed that with all her heart.
From her position, she could only marvel at how the large force churned the earth, grinding grass into the dirt and making footing stickier the further back one marched. She yearned to have a bird’s eye view so she could see the change in the landscape before and behind. Wagons and leather tack creaked, joining the brassy chorus of metal armors and weapons and the deep bass thrum of hooves and feet marching. The powerful music of their march both thrilled and frightened.
The approach of dusk found their bold march changing to a weary trudge. The army came over a rise and, for a brief moment at the very top, she had a view of Yiroth, Lyra’s capital. The immense outer wall encompassed a city nearly twice the size of Demin. Deeper in, nearer the ocean, a second towering wall protected a massive structure of gleaming spires and dramatic rooflines in icy whites and blues. One long steep roofline shone like glass in the fading light. From this vantage, the palace looked made of ice and snow, stunningly beautiful.
Along the seaward side and in the port the Caithin fleet already assaulted the city and walls along those areas buzzed with activity. Fires blazed in the port and she felt a sting of sorrow for the lives being lost, regardless of which side they fought on. As the army continued forward, she lost sight of the city amidst the mass of humanity and horses around her.
The army stopped in the fields, out of range of city defenses, and assembly of siege weapons and tents began. As night fell, attacks began against the city and healers soon had injuries to tend. Bolts from ballistae, set on fire with ascard as they reached their marks, wreaked havoc on the wall, but ballistae didn’t have much range, so soldiers running them were in the most danger. Yiloch held most of the army back, harrying soldiers on and behind the wall, but avoiding a full onslaught.
That familiar ascard touch searched the army constantly now and its presence chilled her. The adept behind it didn’t try to mask their ability and she could now feel how great that power was. She wanted to warn the prince, but now wasn’t the time. She did take time to ensure that her masking held strong and tuned her senses to the enemy adept’s power.
Cries of alarm rang out from the army’s eastern flank. A swarm of heavy and light cavalry made a charge for that side. Yiloch, silver hair streaming out behind him, plunged into the midst of the riders on his dappled stallion, Adran only a few strides behind him. She hurried to where Siddael stood talking with one of the foot soldiers.
“What’s going on?”
Siddael gave her a solemn look. “Someone has come to the cities aid.”
“But I…” never sensed them, she finished silently. Reaching out with her ability, she did a sweep and encountered masking over the attacking force. Not strong, but skillfully done. She’d failed to sense it.
*
Yiloch wove Tantrum through cavalry rushing to defend their eastern flank against the unexpected attack. There’d been no warning, which meant the attackers were using masking. They had to be dealt with quickly. Whoever had come to aid the city could only have so many men at their disposal. They would try to do maximum damage as fast as possible and retreat.
He left Hax and Paulin to manage the restrained offensive against the wall, holding enough troops back to make sure the city’s defenders didn’t take this opportunity to sneak out and attack them from another side. A few of Ferin’s adepts joined the charge, though the majority remained focused on the city and would stay there unless called for. Ahead, enemy cavalry surged down the hillside. Behind them, the dreaded sight of a unit of mounted archers lining up, drawing their bowstrings.
Eris rode at the head of the charge, her troop’s mounts stretched in a flat run at the oncoming riders. He maneuvered Tantrum to the front of the line of riders behind her troop and they slipped in under the first volley of arrows from the hillside. Adran drew up alongside him as arrows flew overhead, taking down horses and riders behind them.
Yiloch pulled his sword free, engaging an enemy rider and using ascard to add power and speed to his attacks. With his combined sword skill and ascard ability, no one could stand against him as he charged in, searching for the ranking officer behind the attack. His blade bit into the side of a soldier, sending the man toppling from his mount to be crushed under the hooves of the many horses. As he felled another soldier, an unfamiliar war cry caught his attention.
Another troop charged out along the hillside, but this one was Caithin. Caplin had taken his cavalry around through the trees to come in on the left flank of the line of archers. Eris let out a whoop and Yiloch grinned, turning to meet the next attacker.
The retreat sounded suddenly and the opposing force scurried to make their escape, archers scrambling in an effort not to let Caplin’s force cut them off. Eris led the chase and Yiloch spurred Tantrum after her. Adran appeared alongside him again and it felt almost like one of the hunts the three of them had enjoyed together in their youth only this time the stakes were higher.
An arrow whizzed in front of him and plunged into Eris’ thigh, driving through her leg and pinning her to the horse. She stiffened. The animal twisted in agony, crashing forward and taking her down into a roll.
Shock tore through Yiloch as he watched her fall, Tantrum leaping over her mount’s legs to avoid going down with them. Turning, he saw Adran haul up on his mount and leap off before the animal stopped, running to his sister. Soldiers continued past, making good the rout. Yiloch pulled up and Caplin took the lead, glancing back once with a look of genuine anguish before turning back to the charge.
Yiloch dismounted and joined Adran.
Eris came free of the horse when it surged to its feet, part of the bloodied and broken arrow shaft still protruding from the saddle. Adran knelt over her. Her neck turned at an awkward angle, her eyes gazing blank at the sky. Blood smeared one side of her face from a laceration over her temple, but she didn’t feel that pain.
Yiloch laid a hand on Adran’s shoulder. Nothing he could say would ease the misery, a fierce whirlwind of pain. His entire life she’d been there, almost as much a sister to him as she had been to her real brother.
Adran brushed a strand of hair away from her lips.
They stayed for several minutes there. The riders came back down the hill, parting around them with respectful silence to rejoin the army. One horse halted alongside them.
“I’m so
sorry.” Caplin’s voice cracked.
Adran kept silence wrapped around him like a shroud.
“Let’s take her back,” Yiloch prompted. When Adran didn’t respond, he turned to Caplin. “Can you lead the horses down, Lord Caplin?”
Without a word, Caplin gathered their mounts and even hot-tempered Tantrum went with him, subdued by the solemn mood. Yiloch knelt beside Eris and lifted her. Delsan’s pendant lay on the ground beside her, broken. He left it. It had no value without her.
When he turned, Adran met his eyes, nodding approval. This was right. Let them see that she meant something, not only to her brother, but also to the man who would be their emperor. Adran followed him back to the camp. Her body hung limp in his arms, lifeless weight devoid of passion. A lance of fresh pain pierced through the ache settling deep within him.
When they passed by the healers a sharp intake of breath drew his attention. Indigo watched them. Tears ran unchecked down her cheeks.
Was that sorrow or guilt over failing to warn them?
He looked away. She didn’t deserve the resentment he felt toward her at that moment, but he couldn’t stop it.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Night fell on the seventh day of the siege. Yiloch watched the city, hands clenched tight on the reins. Tantrum shifted, pawing the ground. They were close to breaching the wall through two mining operations hidden under ascard masking and illusion. They had the weaponry and ascard power to do severe damage inside the walls from here, but they restrained that power on his orders. He didn’t want to destroy the city and its people. They were his. Breaching the outer wall would get them inside, but Rylan’s army would fall back behind the inner walls and the destruction would continue.
Where are you Leryc?
The plan was to sneak inside the city with Leryc’s help and confront the emperor, but he hadn’t gotten an opportunity to contact them or he’d been found out. Rylan wouldn’t surrender, no more than Yiloch would. Starving them out would take too long and be too costly for his troops, not to mention test the Caithin alliance to its limits and perhaps beyond. Leryc was the keystone to a less devastating victory. If he didn’t turn up soon, they would have to resort to more destructive methods.
Dissident (Forbidden Things Book 1) Page 30