“If we do our job well, no guard will escape to bring news of that message.”
“Yet if they do not hear from their guards at all, they will be suspicious regardless. And we will move more slowly than ever before if one of us is injured in the fight.”
“That is unlikely,” said Jormund with a grim smile. He pressed his fists together until his knuckles cracked.
“You risk all of our safety, for the sake of some guards you have never met,” said Niya, brows drawing together.
“While you are willing to wantonly sacrifice the lives of strangers,” said Loren. “I am in command here. We go by the river.”
Niya’s face went a dark shade of red. But at last she jerked her horse’s reins to the side, nudging it away from the rest of the group. Weath let out a low whoosh of breath. Shiun studied Loren for a moment, and then turned to lead them off the road.
twenty-three
THEY WERE CLOSER TO THE river than Loren had thought, and soon reached the bank. Looking down, Loren immediately saw what Shiun had meant about the river. Its surface was a roiling mass of white foam, angry and turbulent. The thought of even stepping in it to wade seemed frightening.
“We will remain atop the bank for a ways,” said Shiun. “There is no place to safely climb down closer to the water.”
They had to ride in single file, for the trees pressed close to them on the right hand side. Loren rode just behind Shiun, with Chet behind her, and behind him, Niya and the rest of the party. Once or twice, Loren glanced behind her, excusing the motion by peering around the jungle first. She caught a glimpse of Niya’s face, but the Mystic’s anger seemed to have faded—or else she was suppressing it. But at least her complexion was no longer so red, and she was not glaring as she had been before.
Finally they reached a place where the ground grew a bit more solid underfoot, and there was a little shelf not far below them. Shiun led them down, so that now they walked on the river’s very edge. Loren guided Midnight as far to the right as she could, so that the horse did not risk losing her footing in the river’s soft mud, but Midnight hardly needed the urging. She eyed the water nervously and nickered, so that Loren felt the need to stroke her mane.
They reached a curve in the river. Before they turned it, Shiun stopped them and bade them to dismount. “On foot from here on,” she whispered. “Keep yourselves quiet, and mind the horses.” Loren passed the command back down the line.
As they made their way around the curve, Loren saw the bridge ahead at last. It was made from a single thick log, taken from a tree so massive that four people could not have wrapped their arms around its girth. The trunk had been shorn in half down the middle, so that its top formed a large plank almost three paces wide, and was laid across the tops of the riverbank, which was now perhaps six paces above their heads.
Shiun stopped and pointed. Loren peered in the direction of her finger. At last she saw it: a figure in a dark green cloak, concealed in the branches of one of the trees on the other side of the river. One of the Yerrin guards. But she was looking the wrong direction—across the river and up—and was half hidden by branches besides, so that she could not see the party making its way along the bank.
Raising two fingers for silence, Shiun led them onwards. They crossed beneath the bridge in dead silence. Just after she passed under it, Loren heard a loud sniff from above. She froze, standing stock still for a moment. Cautiously she glanced up. But she could not see who had made the noise, and there was no other sign from above. She sighed with relief and followed Shiun, who had already begun to press on.
At last they saw the place Shiun had mentioned. A tree had collapsed, smaller than the one that formed the bridge, but still sizable, and it lay directly across the river as though it had been laid there by human hands. Just upriver, it turned the water into a still pool, which gently trickled over the top of the log before turning into the raging floodwaters they had walked beside all this time. Loren realized that the log only formed a dam in the first place because of the flood—if it were not for the torrential rains they had been having, the water level would not have even reached the trunk.
There was not enough space for two of them to walk side by side, so they pressed on until Weath had reached the still waters. She was in the middle of the group, just behind Niya and just ahead of Jormund. Loren glanced back down the river the way they had come. The log bridge was a ways off now, but still far too close for comfort. Now would be the most dangerous part of the whole affair.
Weath took a deep breath and knelt at the water’s edge, and then put her hands into it. Loren could only imagine how cold the water must have been, but the alchemist did not complain. Instead, from behind her closed eyelids, Loren saw a gentle glow begin to pour.
As they all watched in wonder, the water around Weath’s hands began to change. It swirled, and then solidified. For a brief moment it looked to Loren as though it had turned to ice, but then the ice turned brown, and grew harder. Soon she could see that it was stone. The stone rippled farther and farther out into the river, at first in a perfectly semicircle, but then, as Weath found her focus, it became a straight line, little more than a pace across. It inched forwards slowly, ever so slowly, and each moment seemed an eternity under the threat of the watchful eyes from the nearby bridge. At last the stone touched the bank on the other side. There, it sank into the silt and mud, creeping into the earth like the roots of a tree, anchoring itself to the shore.
Weath’s eyes opened, and the glow in them brightened. “All right,” she gasped. “I shall have to hold it here while the rest of you cross. I can hold it up for myself at the end, but the rest of you must go first. One at a time—I cannot bear the weight of more.”
Niya pressed forwards without answering and led her horse upon the stone. She walked a bit too slowly for Loren’s liking, but then she realized that the stone bridge was wet from the splashing water, and Niya had to pick her way carefully. That made Loren nervous. When she had reached the other side, she pressed herself and her horse up against the riverbank and waved the next person on. Jormund stepped forwards and placed one foot on the bridge. Weath gave a wry smile.
“You should eat a bit less, big man.”
Jormund smirked back at her and pressed on. After him went Chet, and then Shiun and Uzo. Only Weath, Annis and Loren remained on the bridge. Annis looked to Loren, but Loren waved a hand at her. “You first.”
Annis gave her a wan smile and stepped forwards. Loren’s smile vanished the moment Annis turned her back. The girl looked terrified. Growing up, she had never been required to perform much physical activity, as the rest of them had been. Across the river, Loren caught Chet’s eye and tossed her head at Annis. He nodded and stepped to the end of the bridge, holding forth a hand ready to help Annis once she was close enough.
Step by step Annis went, each one slower and more cautious than the one before, each one agonizingly slow. When she reached the halfway mark, her shoe slid on the wet stone, and for a panicked moment Loren thought she would fall over. She started forward, ready to leap into the river after her—but Annis recovered, throwing both her arms out to the side to steady herself. On she pressed, but now she moved even more slowly, frightened by her near miss. Chet leaned further forwards, grasping for her outstretched hand.
Annis slipped again. Almost within reach of the riverbank, she teetered on one foot. Chet lunged for her, seized the back of her collar, and flung her to the riverbank. But Weath’s concentration wavered, and when Chet’s foot came down, it slipped right through the stone. He did not cry out as he fell into the river, but that did not matter, for Annis’ horse fell, too, with a thunderous splash and a terrifying whinny that made them all jump nearly out of their skin.
Shouts came from downriver, and two figures in green cloaks appeared on the bridge. One of them raised a finger to point at Loren and her party.
“Darkness take me,” said Loren, and flung herself onto Midnight’s back. Midnight plunged into t
he stream under Loren’s nudge and struck out, swimming hard for Chet, who was fighting to reach the shore. Weath leapt to her feet, the glow in her eyes intensifying, and led her horse forwards. Stone leapt up from the bridge to meet her hand, maintaining her connection as she held it up for herself and crossed. Behind her horse’s hooves, the bridge began to dissolve away, turning to water again and sweeping away downriver. Niya, Jormund, Uzo and Shiun mounted their horses, and with a battlecry they charged up the riverbank. Gem gave his own thin scream and ran after them, though he had no horse, and could not keep up.
Chet’s head bobbed under and over the surface of the water. Loren thrust out a hand and seized his shoulder, and he pulled himself onto Midnight’s back behind her. The horse’s hooves found purchase on the bank at last, and she emerged from the river, scattering water in all directions.
“Watch after Annis!” cried Loren, as Chet leapt from Midnight’s back.
“I will, but where are you—?”
She did not hear the end of his question as she spurred Midnight up the riverbank after the Mystics.
By the time she reached the top, the fight had already begun. One Yerrin guard lay writhing on her back, clawing at the arrow that protruded from her throat. Jormund had two occupied, keeping them at bay with great sweeps of his sword. Niya and Uzo had one each. Why are there so many? thought Loren. But all thought fled her as she saw another green cloak, separate from the rest, unseen by the Mystics, running from the fighting.
A messenger. They would ride for Dahab and warn the family Yerrin of Loren’s coming.
She sent her heels into Midnight’s side and went after the messenger with a cry.
Loren was still not as practiced on horseback as the rest of the party. When she caught the Yerrin soldier, she had meant to leap from the saddle and tackle them to the ground, but her foot caught in the stirrup, and so she only fell on them. The impact left her dazed and gasping, and she rolled away, trying to suck air back into her lungs.
She realized her grave mistake as she heard the hiss of a drawn blade. Fighting to her feet, she found the Yerrin soldier had almost risen, and he had a naked sword in his hand. Her bow was unstrung, and on Midnight’s saddle—the mare had not run far, but the Yerrin guard was between the two of them. She only had her dagger, but she hesitated to use it. What if the guard recognized it, and escaped? Or what if one of the other Mystics came upon them, and saw it?
The guard lunged forward, thrusting his sword at her, but Loren backstopped easily. He swung to the left, and then down, but she did not let him draw close enough to hurt her. But she could not help feeling that he was guiding her some direction. She glanced behind her, but saw only the trees.
He swung again, and she ducked behind one of them. His hasty footsteps told her his aim, but too late: he was running away from her, straight for Midnight. Loren went after him with a cry. He no doubt hoped to gain the saddle and ride off before she caught him, but he wore chainmail and heavy boots, and Loren had always been a fast runner, besides. She tackled him in the knees just before he reached Midnight, and to her relief, his sword slid away on the grass. But he surprised her with a kick, and she fell back with explosions of light dancing before her eyes.
If he had pressed his advantage, he might have choked the life from her before she could regain her strength. But he went for the sword instead, and that gave Loren time to regain her feet. Now he charged wildly, swinging without aim or skill, hoping to catch her by surprise rather than strategy. Loren danced back away from him again—but this time he gave her no room to look behind her. One haphazard swing sent her leaping backwards, only to strike her head on a low branch. That sent her down to hands and knees. The guard paused, chest heaving, his sword slowly rising.
A knife came flying from nowhere, and it sank into the Yerrin guard’s side just below the shoulder. He cried out and dropped his sword. Niya appeared a moment later, dragging the knife out roughly. He sank to his knees, and she seized his hair, placing the blade to his throat.
“Is Damaris in the city?” she hissed.
“Darkness take you and your kin.” The guard spat at her, but missed.
Niya drove a knee into his side, where she had stabbed him. “I will not ask again. Some other of your fellows survived, and I only need one alive to tell me what I need to know. Tell the truth, and it could be you.”
Loren gradually found her feet, her shoulders heaving with deep gasps. But then she took in the sight of Niya and paused. The Mystic had become greatly disheveled in the fighting, and the high collar of her shirt had come undone. There, where the leather parted, Loren could see a mass of scar tissue from some old and terrible wound.
The jungle had gone too silent, and Niya looked up at Loren with a frown. Her skin went a shade paler when she saw Loren looking at her scar. With a savage twist, she dragged her knife across the Yerrin guard’s jugular, and then with hasty fingers she buttoned up her collar again. They both went very still for a moment, and Loren felt that she should say something. But then they heard the sound of crashing footsteps in the underbrush, and Shiun came riding into view with Chet beside her. They both pulled to a halt.
“Where is Annis?” said Loren.
“Safe,” said Chet. “We won the fight. Weath and Gem are with her.”
“The Yerrins?” Niya’s voice sounded thick with some emotion hastily hidden, though whether it was anger or embarrassment, Loren could not tell.
“All dead,” said Shiun, as Chet’s expression grew dark. “The Yerrins in Dahab will know something is amiss, but no one remains to tell them just what it is.”
“Very well,” said Niya. She turned to Loren and bared her lips in a fierce grin. “It appears we might as well have charged the bridge after all, Nightblade.”
Loren glared at her, and then tilted her head towards the corpse on the ground. “Mayhap—but then this one might have gotten away, given time to escape while you were fighting.”
That made Niya balk, and she stared at the man on the ground. After a moment she rolled her shoulders. “Mayhap. It is of no consequence now, in any case, for we cannot change what has happened. Only now we must move with haste, and try to accomplish our aims in Dahab before Yerrin notices their missing patrol, and sends someone to search for them.”
She reached up a hand, and Shiun pulled her into the saddle. They rode off back towards the other while Loren went to fetch Midnight, who had wandered off a short distance to escape the smell of the corpse.
“They killed the Yerrins,” he said quietly. “All of them.”
“I know. They are warriors. This is what they are trained to do.”
“Yet you are supposed to be in command of them, and you told them you did not wish—”
Loren climbed into the saddle and met his gaze. “I am not their master. I only lead this expedition.”
Chet turned away from her to look ahead.
“I did not wish for this,” she told him quietly.
“I know.”
twenty-four
THEY HAD TO HIDE THE bodies, so that if the family Yerrin came to investigate why their patrol had not returned, it would take some time to find them. They could not throw the corpses in the river, for they could easily wash up on the riverbank. They settled for dragging them off into the trees and hiding them behind plants. The Mystics took care of the grisly work, but still Loren was uncomfortably reminded of when she had first met Damaris of the family Yerrin, who had slain a squadron of constables and forced Loren to help her men bury the bodies. As she studied the grim look on Annis’ face, Loren wondered if the girl was thinking of the same thing. In the meantime, Shiun rode back across the bridge and downriver a ways, searching for Annis’ horse, which had been washed out of sight by the waters. She returned with it just as the others were making ready to depart, leading it by the reins. Recovering the horse was the only bit of relief they had from the whole affair.
As the rest of the party readied themselves to ride, Loren saw that A
nnis was staring down at the ground. She went over to the girl. “What is wrong?”
“It is my fault we were discovered,” said Annis. “If I had not slipped, they would not have seen us.”
Loren shook her head. “No. Any one of us might have done the same. You should not blame yourself.”
Annis did not look convinced. She looked around at the rest of the party and frowned. “I should not have come. It was the foolish notion of a foolish girl. I am no warrior.”
“I would call you many things before I called you foolish,” said Loren, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Strength of arms is not the only worthy quality in this world, and I myself value your wit far more highly.”
They rode hard once they set out, with Shiun scouting the way again. They drew upon Dahab shortly before sunset. When they crested the last rise and saw it, the whole party stopped in awe—and Loren felt an even greater wonder, for she was seeing again what she had already spied in her dream. North of them, the river they had crossed met an even greater river that spun away south. But almost immediately, it reached a high shelf in the land and formed a great waterfall, and upon that shelf was built Dahab.
There were palaces and mansions aplenty on both levels of the city, and all of them with gold trim, as Loren had seen. As the midday sun fell upon the city, the gold trim made the whole thing shine like a jewel in firelight, so that they could not long observe it without having to shield their eyes. Upon the higher level were built grander mansions, and ones fairer to look at, for many of them were made of white marble that gleamed nearly as bright as the gold. But even a stranger could see that the true power rested in the city’s bottom layer. There the buildings were older, more solid, more sinister.
“There is the Nelos,” said Uzo, pointing to the river that formed the waterfall. “It flies away south until it reaches the Skytongue, which flows into the Great Bay many leagues away.”
Weremage: A Book of Underrealm (The Nightblade Epic 5) Page 15