"Actually, I'm not fond of travelling on anything but my own two feet," I said. "And it's 'Edric'. Current circumstances notwithstanding, I'm an exile of the Golden Court, not part of it."
Morecet took both corrections in his stride. "Edric it is. I must confess it's a pleasure to meet you. I have a face to put to the deeds now. My current paymaster was none too happy with you, last I spoke with him."
"So you are one of Solomon's assassins?" I asked, making no effort at politeness.
Morecet laughed. "Edric, please. I'm just a man who likes to travel, and better I should do so on Solomon's coin than my own, don't you think? He certainly has enough. I've not killed anyone in ages... No one important, at least. Well, no one you'd have heard of. Besides, I don't work for Solomon. Let us say rather that we have an understanding."
"Are you acting under the terms of that 'understanding' now?"
"As it happens, no. Would you believe I just want to help you save the city? It's been years since I've been back there for any length of time, but I confess I'm still fond of the place."
"I wouldn't believe you, no."
Morecet tutted. "A shame; a dreadful shame indeed. I'll have to see if I can do something about this low opinion you have of me."
"As you wish. Until you do, I'll be watching you."
"By all means. I daresay you'll learn a few things, so your time won't be entirely wasted. Of course, whether it would be better spent elsewhere? Now that's another matter."
Pulling on my reins I dropped back through the scattered formation. Morecet was personable, after an obnoxious fashion, and I found that I did want to believe him. However, I had no doubt he'd be just as personable as his blade slit my throat.
Calda rode up alongside me. "A problem?"
"I don't know."
She laughed. "Must you worry about everything?"
"Not everything, just things that might kill me."
"Well then, on that note..." She leaned in closer. "I've had a handful of men scouting the land ahead. It seems that we'll be riding into this mist of yours once we cross the next crest. I'll close the formation up, and I've detailed a ranger to guide each of you through. Just sit back and enjoy the ride. And try not to fall off." Offering a wicked grin, she rode away.
A few moments later, Arianwyn was back at my side. Her hair was a wind-blown and tangled mess, but there was colour in her cheeks. "Calda tells me we're about to reach the mist."
"That's what she said." The company was indeed drawing up around us. When I'd spoken to Calda, I'd had less than a dozen rangers in sight. Now I could see three times as many without turning in my saddle.
Arianwyn's face grew serious. "It's come a long way out since last night. We can't even be halfway to Tressia."
"I know. Let's just hope we're not past the point of no return."
Beyond the hill, the familiar mist swirled around trees and rocks. Already the light on the hilltop was adopting the sickly pallor of Otherworld. The column slowed almost to a standstill, almost as if we were all taking a last breath before diving beneath the waves of some terrible ocean. I saw one of the rangers hurriedly make the sign of Ashana with his right hand, and another part-draw his dirk to check the blade was sharp. Then Calda gave a word of command and we were on the move.
Minutes later I realised we were approaching Ardovo – a place I'd no desire to return to. I called out for Calda. A few moments later, she cantered to my side.
"You called?"
There was no point beating around the bush. "We should go around Ardovo."
Calda laughed. "Has your time in that city really made you so skittish? Ardovo's a cluster of dull ruins and equally dull legends. There's no danger."
"Not normally, perhaps," I said. "And certainly not when the sun's in the sky, but we crossed the north boundary on our way here. I think we were very lucky not to have encountered any of these 'legends' of yours."
"Really?" Calda mocked. "And what was it put a scare into the great Edric Saran? A howling wolf? Perhaps dark shapes at wing on the breeze? I understand some bats can grow to nearly two feet across, scary little beasts." She paused, then went on in a more reasonable tone. "It's just another ruin Edric, one that generations of brigands have painted as a site of great evil so they can shelter there undisturbed. Going around will cost us valuable time."
"It's better to lose a little time than risk losing our lives to whatever's in there." Calda laughed again, and I continued crossly. "Please take me seriously, Calda. I'm not given to wild imaginings. There's something terrible in Ardovo, and I've no doubt that whatever it is will have only grown stronger and bolder now that the mists have risen."
Calda still didn't believe me – I saw that much from her expression. But as she opened her mouth to speak again, Arianwyn cut her off.
"Quiet, both of you. Listen."
An otherworldly howl cut through the still air. It was faint, desperately faint, for we were still a long way from Ardovo's boundaries, but it contained all the feral malice of the cry I'd heard the previous night. A chill settled on my heart and I saw Arianwyn's lips twist with the memory of her near-panic. The sound lingered, and died away.
"That's not a wolf," Calda muttered.
Arianwyn's face settled into a 'you were told' expression. Calda saw it too, and I'm she that sure would have launched a retort had not a dozen more rough throats in Ardovo chosen that moment to echo the cry.
Calda twitched her reins and called to the havildar behind her. "Hydrion? We'll detour north. We'll cross the Blackflood at Novgor. Detail two men to carry word to the Emperor: Ardovo is not safe for travel." Calda turned back to me. "Happier now?"
"Much."
"Good. So am I." She spurred away north. It wasn't much of an apology, but Calda didn't like admitting fear of anything.
Calda didn't spend much time with our small company after that, but rode ahead to determine the lay of the land. It was hardly necessary – any of the rangers knew the plains at least as well as she, but I knew she felt slighted for having been proved wrong in front of her men, and needed a little space to calm her spirit. It didn't worry me that she was gone. Calda's black moods were as common as they were fleeting. She'd be back and in good cheer before too much time passed.
In his warleader's absence, Hydrion took command of the rangers. He led us north through the mists, bringing us close to the banks of the Blackflood as soon as we were what he considered to be a safe distance from Ardovo. Soon, we'd reached the old timber bridge at Novgor.
Novgor was an unusual place – one of the few intact settlements that still existed in the Contested Lands. Rumour had it the townsfolk survived by supplying and trading with both sides – although the town was nominally a Tressian territory, the bloodlines of its folk were not too easily distinguished.
Novgor's buildings were as mismatched as its loyalties, with wattle and timber buildings squatting alongside much older stone-built halls. Indeed, the town's central tower of black stone was to the remains of some ancient fortress. Not for the first time, I wondered what had lain upon this land in ages past, and whether it had forsaken its claim so completely as it appeared.
A sturdy wooden palisade guarded Novgor from the east, but the gate was open and we passed through without. Perhaps they recognised the rangers for what they were, or perhaps they just didn't want any trouble on a night so full of ill-portent. Lanterns burned at street intersections, and light blazed through ill-fitting shutters, but we saw not a soul in the mist-laden streets. Signposts creaked upon the listless breeze and rats scurried from gutter-to-gutter, but of people there was neither sound nor sign.
I was only fractionally less glad to leave Novgor behind than I had been Ardovo.
Calda joined us briefly as we journeyed into the hills beyond the town and headed southeast. As I'd predicted, she was back in garrulous form, and joked briefly with Hydrion before heading off into the mists again. I'd no idea how she expected to find us again, but then I had no idea how she'd f
ound us after leaving for the first time. Calda had always been at home in the wilds, and possessed hunter's instincts more finely attuned than my own.
"You've known the warleader long?" Arianwyn asked, her tone far less casual than the words suggested.
"Most of my life, on and off."
The answer didn't seem to satisfy Arianwyn. "And you're close?"
I could see where this conversation was heading now. "Yes, I suppose we are. Calda's probably the closest thing I have to a sister – an older sister who thinks I'm at the same time neither bold nor careful enough in anything that I do."
Arianwyn relaxed, but I only noticed because I'd been watching for it. "She seems... interesting," she observed, using that tone of voice that women seem to reserve exclusively for members of their sex about whom they have yet to reach any definite conclusion.
"She's certainly that," I agreed, pretending not to notice the reserve in her voice. "Present company excepted, Calda's gotten me into more trouble than all of my other acquaintances put together. When we were children, she talked me into burning down a soothsayer's hovel."
Arianwyn's eyes widened. "You're joking."
I smiled at the memory. "Not at all. Her father and siblings were lost at sea – their vessel sunk by corsairs – and she'd engaged the scruffy devil to divine the name and whereabouts of the ship that had done the deed. The soothsayer told her that destiny, not corsairs, had been to blame, and kept her gold. He plainly had no clue as to the real answer. Calda... did not take it well."
"So it seems. You were an easily led youth, I take it."
"Calda can be very convincing. And I confess I don't care for soothsayers much, either. My father found it amusing, I think, but that didn't save us from punishment." I shrugged. "Then there was the business of Thrakkian recruiter, Calda's trials of passage, my trials of passage, sneaking into the temple Ashana during the high rites. This list goes on."
Arianwyn shook her head. "And you're saying I've caused you more trouble in a few days than she has your entire life?"
"Miss Trelan, since you came into my life I've committed burglary, become a fugitive from the law, been kidnapped and stood on the brink of death more times than I can recall. I've travelled to the Realm of the Dead, treated with gods, angered gods, and am now riding to fight against an army of damned for the fate of a city not my own. I rather think that if Calda really worked at it, she might reach your level before I die of old age, but it would be a close run thing."
"Well, if you're going to put it like that, of course it sounds bad." Arianwyn scratched idly between her horse's ears. "Closest thing you have to sister, you say?"
A strand of scattered trees passed by on my left, I again caught sight of Jaspyr and Fredrik loping alongside like strange ghosts in the mist. Seeing them reminded me of something I'd meant to discuss with Arianwyn.
"Tell me again why your magic doesn't work in Otherworld?"
She frowned. "We've been over this. It's there – I just can't connect with it the way I can in the mortal realm. Don't you think I'd have used it when Malgyne captured me?"
"I'm just asking. I mean, you've come so far these last few days, I just wondered if this was another challenge you've since overcome."
"I suppose that makes sense," she allowed. "But there are limits to everything. You can't expect miracles."
"So you can't feel the magic now?"
"No, but then Otherworld has overtaken this place, I wouldn't expect to."
"Not even a glimmer?"
"No." Annoyance pricked at her words. "There's just the echo I always pick up in Otherworld, but it's not real. It's not something I can use."
"Then tell me how you're controlling those two guardians."
"I... What do you mean?" Her anger faded, replaced by wariness.
I pointed at Jaspyr. "Unless they're being controlled, those lions attack anyone who isn't wearing an amulet. I am, you are, but Calda isn't, and nor are Hydrion or any of his men. You're controlling them, even while we're technically in Otherworld."
"That's not the magic. You told me Quintus had a guardian under his command in the vaults."
"I told you there was one with Quintus in the vaults. He didn't have command over it – it was just prowling around – don't you think he'd have used it to break through the door if he could?"
Arianwyn had no ready answer, and a deal of moorland fell away beneath our hooves before she replied.
"I don't know Edric, I just don't know. All I can tell you is that I can't reach the magic."
"Perhaps," I agreed. "But it might equally be that you're still setting unconscious limits for yourself. I'm just asking that you keep an open mind, that's all."
*******
The walls of Tressia came into view many hours later. I didn't see them at first, for their white stone was almost invisible in the mist. Only when I shifted my gaze to the darkened horizon could I tell the difference between what was essentially two blurry masses, one darker than the other. Malgyne's influence had warped the towers and battlements. Everything was somehow distorted, as if it were a scene painted on parchment twisted by unthinking hands.
Calda ordered the rangers to slow their pace and disperse. Arianwyn and I drifted to the back of the formation where we found Morecet waiting.
He nodded in greeting. "Doesn't look very promising, does it?"
It did not. By accident or design, we'd come out of the mists a few hundred paces south of the east gate. In front of us loomed the massive shape of the Tower of Night, which meant the battered Tower of Stars lay somewhere off to our west. When Arianwyn and I had left, the east gate had been open, and its garrison in the hands of Quintus' forces. Now, the gate was closed, and two great bonfires of dead burned before it. There was no one in sight; not fallen, nor revenant nor living creature.
I moved forward through the column until I found Calda.
"What do you think?" she asked.
"I don't know. There were friends here when we left. It might be that they've had to hide, or retreat..."
"Or they've been overrun?"
"...or that, yes. Want me to take a look?"
Calda shook her head. "I've already sent scouts. Let someone else take the risks for a change."
Now that she mentioned it, I could just about make out two dismounted rangers moving towards the gate. They went carefully forward – one approaching from either side of the gate. So far there had been no indication that anyone within the gatehouse had seen them. The irony of the situation was not lost on me. Had a Hadari force come even this close to the walls even a week before, they'd have been met by a volley of fire.
The two rangers had our full attention as they edged past the bonfires. Calda held her breath, and only exhaled when she realised I saw she was holding her breath. Arianwyn and Morecet joined us. The latter opened his mouth to speak, but I waved him into silence. The scouts were now ghosting around the bonfires, and if they were to be spotted by whoever was inside the walls, now would be the time.
And so it proved. A savage bellow sounded from the guard house, and the gates started to swing outwards. A flock of ghostly ravens burst from the walls and flew over our heads, harsh voices cawing in alarm. The scouts were already running back.
"Form up!" bellowed Calda. "Weapons ready! Hydrion? I'll command the first cohort. The second's yours!
"No, this really doesn't look promising at all," Morecet muttered, readying his own bow.
The gates yawned wide. A swarm of fallen wretches swept past the bonfires. The rangers' bowstrings sang, speeding arrows into the leading wave, tumbling them lifeless onto the roadway. Yet more wretches came on, and their mad capering run quickly eating up the ground between them and the fleeing scouts.
"With me! With me!"
Calda spurred forward, two dozen rangers at her back. They galloped past the fleeing scouts and dove headlong into the wretches.
Hadari steel flashed in the eerie light, and the wretches retreated, leaving dead behin
d. The scouts had reached their horses now, and Calda's group wheeled away from the gate. It had been a close run thing, but we'd not lost anyone. Not yet.
Another wave of fallen charged out of the gate. These were not wretches. They were not even the armoured and disciplined fallen that I had fought at the Estrina, though they were armoured as such. These new foes were two score knights riding upon great black horses, or rather horse-shaped apparitions. Though the steeds were hazy and indistinct, their footfalls were solid enough and the ground trembled with their onset.
The rangers shifted their fire from the retreating wretches and onto the newcomers. Most of the arrows pattered off the knights' armour, with only the luckiest or most skilful of shots cheating the cursed black plate. When a rider was slain his horse perished also, dispersing into nothingness. Shooting the steed itself did little good. The arrows passed straight through their spectral bodies, leaving only swirls of black mist to mark their passage.
Calda's group turned and rowelled their horses. They were overtaken in moments. Barbed spears pierced rangers' backs. Gauntleted hands dragged them from saddles to be trampled by the straining steeds. Calda twisted, her blade flashing out to shiver the spear meant for her spine. She thrust her sword-point into the knight's open helm. He fell with a wailing scream, and she spurred away in search of another opponent.
"For the Empire!" Hydrion swept his sword down, and the second cohort charged, firing as they went. Arianwyn, Morecet and I were alone.
All was bedlam. Those rangers closest to the knights fought them blade to blade. Those that were more distant circled the melee, loosing arrows whenever a target presented itself and wheeling away as an enemy drew near. Not all did so successfully.
In the seconds since the fallen had charged out of the city, half of the men of the southweald had been slain. I was torn. I wanted to aid Calda, but if I joined them, Arianwyn would have only Morecet's dubious protection.
Not that Morecet was standing idle. He'd sent a dozen arrows into the fray and I'd not seen one of them miss. As I watched, he let another fly. It caught a knight in the throat, and he pitched to the roadway in a clatter of arms and legs. From what I'd seen of Morecet I expected a bragging remark, but he said not a word and simply set another arrow to his string.
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