“It seems plain to me that the place is impregnable,” he said. “We should return to Ammon and let Kal deal with it.”
“I do not doubt that he will already have sent a host this way,” said Loren. “Jormund will have reached him by now, and Kal will have wasted no time assembling his forces. But it is as I said before: even all the Mystics at his command cannot hope to besiege the fortress, not without tremendous loss.”
“But neither can we hope to conquer it on our own,” said Chet.
“We do not need to conquer the fortress,” said Niya. “We only need to capture Damaris. That is why we have come all this way. Loren and I have proven our worth already. The two of us can drag this merchant from her hole.”
Loren frowned as she looked into the fire. It was possible, she supposed. But Yewamba was not the golden manor. It was not in the city, for one thing. Escape would not be so easy. And neither would their entry, for she had no faintest idea how to sneak into the place.
“We cannot pass the main gate without detection,” she said slowly. “That is the first obstacle.”
“You speak as though this is something you are considering,” said Chet, incredulous. “Do not tell me you have begun to agree with this mad course.”
But Niya ignored him, and nodded eagerly at Loren. “Shiun can investigate the place tomorrow. She can find us a back entrance. The stronghold is built into a mountain—there must be more than one way in, even if we must tunnel through the rock.”
“I could help you there,” said Weath. “But I cannot withhold my own concerns, here. Even once we gain entry, it seems to me that we have but a slim chance of success. Damaris will be well guarded, and extracting her will be no easy task.”
“Who agreed to come because they thought this would be easy?” snapped Niya. “If you wish to turn back once you have gotten us inside the stronghold, I will not stop you. The Nightblade and I can manage on our own.”
“You advocate for madness,” said Chet. “The wisest course would be to make for Ammon. At the least we should remain here, waiting for Kal’s arrival, and watch the stronghold in case Damaris should try to escape it.”
That did seem wise to Loren, and for a moment her heart leapt. It was safer, certainly, and she could not deny the pit of fear that formed in her stomach at the thought of sneaking into Yewamba. But Niya shook her head scornfully.
“There must be other ways out of Yewamba, just as there are other ways in,” she said. “If Damaris learns that a host from Ammon has arrived in the area, doubtless there is some tunnel in the mountains that she can use to evade it. Our only hope is taking her by surprise.”
“Hope,” scoffed Chet. “I do not see hope in any part of this situation.”
“Do you not? Then let me explain it more clearly, boy. Underrealm stands on the brink of war. Damaris’ capture and execution could quell the flames of rebellion. The High King could declare open war tomorrow. She may have done so already, and word of it has not reached us yet. But we here, now, just we six, can put an end to it.”
Loren felt a burning passion erupt inside her at Niya’s words. She remembered what Enalyn had told her upon the Seat, that the preservation of the nine kingdoms was the greatest purpose there was. Niya spoke the truth now: ending Damaris’ string of crimes could help bring about that end. She could do it. And if Niya had guessed correctly that Damaris might have another means of escape, Loren might be the only one who could.
But more than that, she could end the nightmares, or at least remove the power of them. Mayhap the cavern from her dreams awaited her in Yewamba. Mayhap Gregor was there, too. If Damaris were captured and brought before the King’s law, Loren need no longer fear those visions. For a moment her mind quailed at the thought of Chet’s corpse, and the corpses of Annis and Gem. But no, she had seen them die in Dahab as well, and that had not come to pass.
You do not see the future, she told herself once again. And you were a self-important fool if you ever believed it so.
“We must do it,” she said quietly.
They all stopped and looked at her. She saw Chet’s expression fall into despair, and she knew that he could see her determination.
“If there is more than a fool’s hope of success, we must try,” she went on. “Niya is right. All of Underrealm is papyrus awaiting only an ember to ignite it. We can douse the flames before they erupt. That is the duty of the Mystic Order, and it is my duty as the Nightblade.”
“But we cannot do it on our own,” said Chet. “Kal’s force—”
“Is not enough,” said Loren. “And even if it were, how long would it take? If he set out from Ammon with his whole host the very day that Jormund reached him, still the march would take more than a month. It might take two. Then they would lay siege to Yewamba. Another two months. Mayhap more. The place looked as though a dozen could repel an army for a year.”
“It would become a symbol for the traitors,” said Weath quietly. She stared into her hands, her shoulders slumped, as though she had just realized a terrible truth. “Our mission, our true mission, would be a failure, for it would only drag the war on.”
“Yet if we succeed, we few?” said Loren. “What if the tale should spread throughout Underrealm that one small band of the High King’s spies captured Damaris from her impregnable home and brought her to justice? What traitor would dare to stand against the crown then?”
The camp was silent. The answer was obvious to them all.
Niya’s bright teeth shone in the firelight. “Then we are agreed. Loren and I will infiltrate Yewamba and bring Damaris forth. Once we have escaped with her, the rest of you—”
“No,” said Chet.
“Chet—” Loren gave him a warning look.
“Let me speak,” he said sharply. “Just let me finish. I know … or I have learned, on our journeys, that you will not be swayed once you have decided something, Loren. But in some matters, I will not change my mind either. If you are determined to do this, I am coming with you.”
“And I,” said Gem at once. He beamed at all of them, looking at Uzo as though expecting the man to chime in with agreement. Uzo raised his brows and remained silent.
Annis gave a nervous titter of laughter. “I hope it is understood by all when I do not volunteer, for I would only get in the way.”
“Of course, Annis,” said Loren. “And as for Gem, and Chet, I will not deny that a part of me wants to forbid you going. Your lives are dearer to me than my own. But I cannot command you to remain behind in good conscience, when you have urged me so strongly not to go in the first place.”
“Chet urges you, you mean,” muttered Gem, so quiet that Loren barely heard it.
But Niya shook her head. “That is unwise, Loren. If we should be caught in the fortress, these boys will not keep us from death. We should not risk any more lives than we must.”
“You speak as though I am yours to command,” said Chet. “I am not. Nor am I yours, Loren. I obey only myself, and if you do not wish me to come with you, you shall have to tie me to a tree.”
“Do not tempt me, boy,” growled Niya.
Loren glared at her. “Chet speaks the truth. He is no Mystic, and so he is not yours to command.”
Niya drew back, agape. “You cannot tell me you wish to endanger him.”
“My wish is not important,” said Loren. “I know him well enough to know that he will not hamper the success of our mission, and so if he wishes to come, he can. Or am I no longer in command of this mission?”
The Mystic’s nostrils flared, and her chest heaved with quick, angry breaths. When she spoke, the words came terse and angry. “Very well, Nightblade. But might I have a word alone?”
Without waiting for an answer, she stood and walked away from the campfire. Chet watched her go, still frowning.
“You do not need to go with her,” he said.
“We gain nothing by being angry and divided,” said Loren. “If I can soothe her temper, it will be better for us all.”
So saying, she rose and went off in the direction Niya had gone. She found her a ways off, when the fire had receded to little more than a glow in the distance. Niya was pacing back and forth before a wide oak, and when she saw Loren approaching she slammed a fist into the side of it.
“You let that boy sway your mind too easily,” she said. “Few appreciate a good lover more than I, but it is a girl, and not a woman, who makes decisions with her loins instead of her head.”
Fury seized Loren, and she spoke without thought. “Is that so? It seems to me that you have done so since the moment we met.”
Niya stopped dead, eyes narrowing and fists clenching at her sides. For a moment, Loren was afraid to move. She half thought that Niya meant to attack her. But then a smile split Niya’s scowl, and she snickered.
“Mayhap you speak fairly,” she said. “I can admit to my own distraction. But when it comes to our mission, I put such thoughts aside. I worry that you have not learned to do so.”
“And I am growing tired of hearing that,” said Loren. “You, Chet, Kal—it hardly seems there is anyone who does not think I am a little girl, swaying this way and that like a willow in a gale. Just because I was silent while counsel was being given, that does not mean I was waiting to find something to agree with. I listened, and when I came to my own decision, I gave it.”
Niya studied her for a moment. Then she took a step closer, her demeanor changing entirely. Loren no longer feared the woman’s temper, but grew nervous for an entirely different reason. “I had not thought of that,” said Niya softly. “That was wrong of me. I did not give you enough credit. You are young, and sometimes I forget what an old soul lurks behind those eyes.”
The Mystic reached up and brushed a lock of hair behind Loren’s ear, making her legs quiver. “I accept your apology,” she said, keeping her tone cool.
“I have been anxious for command a long while,” said Niya. “Now that one has been given to me, even one so small, I suppose that I sometimes forget you are the one in charge here. I was a fool to call you a little girl. You are a woman grown, of course—that is why I cannot stop desiring you.”
“You should, as I have told you often enough before.” Loren tried to sound indignant, but she could not even speak forcefully to convince herself.
“The miles between here and Dahab have not lessened my hunger.”
“Nor have they increased mine.”
“That is a lie.”
They both knew that it was true. Niya took another step forwards, so that they were almost touching. They were out of sight of the camp. Loren knew no one would come to disturb them. Almost she surrendered to her instincts, almost she reached out for the Mystic. She even lifted her hands to do it. And then at the last moment she regained control, and put her hands on Niya’s shoulders instead, gently pushing her away.
“I love Chet,” she said. “You must stop this.”
“Why?” said Niya, reaching out again. She cupped Loren’s cheek. “Neither of us wants me to.”
“Because you are trying to make me do something that I know I would regret. He has suffered enough because of me. I will not cause him more pain.”
“Then say nothing,” said Niya. “I will not.”
But those words doused the fire in Loren at last, and she reached up to pull Niya’s hand away. “No. That is not who I am. I value honor.”
Niya scowled. “So says the former thief.”
“Former,” said Loren. “And even then, I never meant to steal anyone’s affection.”
“If that were true, then you would never have looked at me that way,” said Niya. She pushed past Loren and made for the camp. It was a long while before Loren’s heart had stilled enough that she could follow.
thirty-two
THE NEXT DAY THEY SENT Shiun back into the mountains to scout Yewamba and see if she could find another route inside. But they did not wait idly, and instead moved the camp. They took themselves west, across the main road and into the jungle at the mouth of the valley. There was a sort of cleft in the mountains there, where around the turn of a rise in a land there was a wide clearing hidden from outside view. There they erected their tents once more, though Niya commanded them to light no fires, for they were too close to the Yerrins for that.
Shiun returned shortly after midday with good news. “There is a path,” she said. “It runs up the back side of the mountain, and it is perilous. The last part cannot be climbed without Weath. But it will bring us straight to the top of the walls, and from there we can enter the stronghold with ease.”
“That is our party, then,” said Loren. “All but Annis, and Uzo, who will stay to guard the camp.”
“And happily enough,” said Uzo. “If you should succeed, I will admit being jealous of the glory you shall earn yourselves. But I have never found anything onerous about guard duty, especially when the alternative is to stick my head within the very jaws of death.”
Loren smirked, but then grew somber. “If we do not succeed, you must return to Ammon as swiftly as you can. Take Annis with you, and keep her safe. Her information about the stronghold will be of immense help to Kal.”
Uzo gave a solemn nod. “I will do as you command. And … I should say, in case I do not get another chance, that I am sorry if I have been coarse with you during the journey. I thought I rode with a foolish young girl risen above her station by fortune alone. I see now that I traveled beside a brave warrior instead.”
She flushed and shook her head. “No warrior, but only a spy. As luck would have it, however, that is just what was required.”
Their meal that night was a somber affair, not least because they could not heat any meat for themselves and had to eat the salted rations from their packs, which had begun to run low.
“If we return, you and I should go hunting,” said Loren. “It will make the journey back to Ammon much easier.”
Chet looked at her oddly. “‘If,’ you say. Are you that certain we shall not come back?”
She shook her head at once. “Of course not. I only meant … I was not thinking.”
He looked away and did not answer her.
Uzo volunteered to stand watch the whole night, for the next day, he would be able to sleep when the rest of them could not. Loren began to ready herself for sleep, wondering how she would be able to fall asleep with the anxiety that filled her, when Annis approached her.
“Loren,” she said quietly. “Might I speak with you?”
“Of course. What is it?”
Annis looked around the camp, her gaze lingering longest on Gem. “Alone?”
Loren frowned, but let herself be led off away from the camp. Annis took her out through the cleft in the land, into the open jungle, to the small stream that ran south not far away from the main road.
“Let us sit on the bank,” she said, her tone too airy, too light. “I want to put my feet in the water. I can hardly believe how long it is since last I bathed.”
“Very well,” said Loren. She was more curious than ever what troubled Annis, but it seemed the girl would speak of it when she was ready. So they sat together upon the bank beside the stream and pulled off their boots. The water was not too very cold, despite winter. Uzo had told them that it never snowed in Feldemar, and all of the south-flowing rivers carried water from the north, where it remained hot and sunny all year round.
“This is a strange land, but I find it very beautiful,” said Annis, looking out into the gathering darkness between the trees.
“I prefer the Birchwood, but I am happy to have seen it,” said Loren. “Together we have wandered forests, grasslands, great rivers and jungles, and even the ocean. All that is left now is to visit a desert together.”
“Mayhap one day we could journey to Idris,” said Annis, her eyes all alight. “I have heard it is an exotic place. When all of this is over, I should love to travel there with you.” But then her expression fell, and she looked away.
“Annis, what is it?” said L
oren. “I wish to hear what troubles you, but I must rise before the dawn.”
“Of course. Forgive me.” Annis drew a deep breath. “I do not want Gem to go with you. I want you to command him to stay.”
Loren’s heart sank. “I cannot,” she said. “Or rather, I will not. I have tried it before—with both of you, in fact. You have both made it plain how much you hate it.”
“But you are all wandering into danger, mayhap danger too great even for adults. He and I are both still children, and though he practices his swordplay, he is no warrior. I worry that he will try to fight and then something will—”
“We both know why you are worried, Annis,” said Loren irritably. “You worry that if he does not return, then you will never have told him how you feel, and known if he felt the same in return. The solution is simple: speak to him. You are an eloquent girl, when you do not let your tongue run away with your mind. You know that I love you as my sister, but frankly I have grown tired of how reluctant you are to even tell him how you feel.”
To her surprise, Annis’ eyes brimmed with tears, and she gave a sniff. She bowed her head and turned away. Loren, mortified, sat up and placed a hand on her back.
“Annis, I am sorry. I spoke too harshly, I—”
“No, you spoke true enough,” said Annis, voice trembling. “Only … it is not that I am afraid to tell Gem. It is just that I wish I did not have to. Yet he has never acted towards me the way I do him. He has never looked at me with the same feelings that I have for him. I keep hoping to see it in his eyes, the way I see it when Chet looks at you. He looked that way from the first moment I met him, and I was there as the two of you fell deeper and deeper into love. It was effortless.”
“Of course it was, you great fool,” said Loren gently. “Chet and I have known each other our entire lives. He loved me even before I left the forest, before I met you. Everyone is different. Every love is different. He never told me how he felt, for he never needed to. It seems clear to me that you do. So free yourself from both our misery, and do it.”
Weremage: A Book of Underrealm (The Nightblade Epic 5) Page 21