The Betrayed

by Matthew Dickerson

  Tienna’s concerns must have been similar. Her voice was quiet but clear and convicting. “Perhaps Alrew is right, but there is much on my heart that worries me. The Amanti were outnumbered not four to one but twenty to one. And more soldiers will surely arrive to reinforce Golach’s company. For a war has now been started. Soldiers will pour out of Citadel onto the Plains and into the highlands. How long it will take them, I do not know, but it is inevitable. As to whether Golach can track us, haven’t we already guessed that he has the aid of the Daegmon itself?”

  Alrew interrupted with an incredulous voice. ““Wait. Golach and even the king may be in league with the Daegmon, but the whole of Citadel can’t be. I served in that army. So did Lluach. So did many folk from all of our lands. Cousins and friends. If the soldiers come to find out that their captain is serving the very creature that destroyed their homelands, they won’t follow him anymore. They’ll rebel even against the king when they see how evil he has become, as Lluach and I have done—”

  “Will they?” Tienna said. “Are you sure?”

  Alrew started to answer, then stopped. Twice more his mouth opened as if to speak, and both times he shut it again. His face turned red. “Surely there must be some who would refuse to serve an evil king,” he finally stammered.

  “Some,” Tienna said. “Some, like you, will discover the truth and turn away. Many or most will not. Most, I think, will simply choose to ignore the truth no matter how plainly it is put before them because it would require too much work to acknowledge it. Others will guess at it—many already have, I don’t doubt—and yet still continue to follow Golach. For some that will be their surest path to power. For others it will be the path to money—or the easiest path to follow at the moment. Golach and those like him will always have an army.”

  Tienna’s words had a sobering effect, in no small part because it was she who had spoken them, and Elynna had come to trust and respect her friend so deeply. Once more Elynna experienced the weight of their situation—not just the terror of the Daegmon they were soon to face but the plight of all Gondisle. She was not alone in her response. “Your words are grim,” Cane said after a few seconds of thought. “But I don’t doubt them.”

  “Nor do I,” Lluach added. “I fear that if it had not been for Alrew—and for Thimeon’s words to him when you were prisoners—I would still be serving in Golach’s company. Doing what he told me to do and not asking questions. The longer I was with him, the harder it would have been to leave.”

  Several others murmurred their agreement. Though a few still doubted, the result of the conversation was that Elynna’s companions drew closer together and became even more wary, as though Golach’s men might appear at any moment. A short time later they reached the far side of the forest and emerged into a brighter light and saw more snow on the ground.

  Onward they continued, still fixed in the direction of the twin peaks. The land was a patchwork of small woods, shrub-laden fields, rocky hills, and barren clay. She had not yet seen any sign of the folk of that region, nor of any pursuit. Still, whenever they crossed a wide swath of open rocky land where there was no shelter, Elynna grew especially nervous. The whole world now seemed filled with danger.

  Late in the afternoon, Namha, who seemed aware of the slightest breath of wind or stirring insect, stopped walking and lifted his hand in a signal for the others to halt. He spoke short sequence of words in his curious melodic language. Nahoon translated. “We are not alone. Somebody follows us.”

  Elynna stopped. She turned, along with several others, toward the low rocky hill behind them, looking for some sign of movement. “Aram and Kayle?” Bandor wondered aloud. Since leaving the forest, the two Northlanders had been posted as rear guard. Yet they should have been a half a mile or more behind, and their shift wasn’t over for another hour.

  Nahoon said something to Namha, perhaps relaying Bandor’s question. The Amanti did not answer. Instead, he lowered his spear and knelt down. On one knee, he was eye to eye with Elynna, who now followed his glance toward the ridge ahead, then to the trees on their right. He put his ear to the ground and then sniffed the air. Then very rapidly he rose to his full height and spoke two words. “We are surrounded,” Nahoon translated.

  One name shot to Elynna’s mind. Golach! With the name came panic that would not have been much greater if she had sensed the presence of the Daegmon advancing upon them.

  “Damn them.” Cane growled. His stretched voice revealed a rare moment of bewilderment. “How did they do it? How did Golach even find us in this blasted wasteland?” And yet he did not seem to panic. His movements were calm as he removed his pack and reached for his sword.

  Cathros shook his head as though in disbelief. “He does not relent.”

  “No,” Alrew said. “Golach does not relent.” He shook his head grimly as he also drew his sword. “And he won’t be taking us prisoner. When you first escaped from the dungeon he gave the order to kill you on sight.”

  Elynna stared at Alrew. The news did not surprise her. Still, it shocked her to hear it spoken. She looked at her companions, wondering how they would respond. Some were looking around with drawn expressions. Marti had his hand on the shoulder of his little brother. Tears streamed down his face. But Elynna saw no sign of panic among them. The news seemed to bring them all into focus. This group had faced battle before—battle with as little hope for success as this one.

  The Anghare woman, Hrevia, expressed the mood Elynna saw around her. “Then this is it,” she said, her usual husky voice a little higher than usual. “We fight to the finish as if it were the Daegmon itself we faced.”

  “Not a very defensible position either,” Kayle commented. “If we could make it to the woods, we would at least be safer from archers.”

  “Too far,” Tienna answered.

  Elynna looked toward the woods ahead of them. The trees were only about a hundred yards away. However, even as she looked, she saw movement in the shadows beneath the leaves. That way was already cut off.

  “We can make use of these boulders,” Aram suggested. Elynna followed his gaze to a scattering of tall rocks about twenty yards to the north. They were waist to chest high, clustered with a few small bushes. They looked as if they had been dropped there long ago by a retreating glacier, or perhaps set there by people for a purpose unknown. Whatever their source, they would offer at least some protection. Cane shouted out a command, and they all scurried toward the spot. Namha came last, jogging slowly and upright with his nose high as if sniffing the air. Within the ring of boulders, the company formed a circle fifty feet across. Anchara handed a long dagger to Keet, who had no weapons of his own, but Marti moved him toward the center of the circle and told him to stay there unless everybody else was killed. “If you move one inch, I’ll tan your hide when the battle is over.”

  “Guard each others’ backs,” Lluach said as they set about making the place as defensible as possible. “Don’t let our circle collapse. They will surround us as quickly as they can and cut off our escape. Then they will try to force us inward. Use the rocks. If Golach’s force has been weakened, we might have a chance.”

  They had drawn their weapons, and awaited the attack. Those with bows had nocked their arrows. Elynna held the new spear the Plainsfolk had given her. She stood between Cathros and Tienna—about the safest place she could be in a battle, she thought. Yet her heart was in her throat.

  “How many are out there?” Cane asked.

  Nahoon did not answer. He stood as still as a tree. “Why don’t they attack?” Theo asked after another long tense moment. “Where are they?”

  “Golach is observing our position,” Lluach replied.

  “Or he wants to give us time to be afraid,” Alrew said. “He’s done it before against bands of outlaws, just for the fun of it, before he destroys them.”

  Elynna shivered. Still nothing happened. Her companions kept sc
anning the area around them, waiting for the inevitable attack. Elynna saw only the thin layer of snow, the trees to north, and the ridgeline beyond the trees.

  “Aram and Kayle,” Hruach said suddenly. “Where are they? Why didn’t they warn us?”

  Nobody answered, but a moment later Theo’s hopeful voice arose. “I don’t see anything. Is Namha sure we are surrounded?”

  “He is sure,” Nahoon answered. “The Amanti do not make mistakes about such things.”

  “Their horses,” Cane said to Noaem. “They must have the brought them up the gap, or they never could have caught up with us so quickly. Can you—?”

  “No,” Noaem replied before Cane could finish. “No horses here. Tiger is not far. It will help us if I call.”

  Noaem’s words brought a ray of hope to Elynna. The great tiger had come to their aid in the battle against the Daegmon on the Plains. She had witnessed its tremendous strength and fierceness. And Noaem, through his own gift, had spoken to the creature. It had recognized the Daegmon as evil and had come to the humans to ask for aid, for protection. This battle they fought impacted all of Gondisle. All life. But so much had happened since then. She had not seen the tiger nor given it much thought. But now that it was nearby, maybe all was not lost.

  “There,” Tienna said. Elynna heard the urgent voice and followed her friend’s gaze and outstretched arm to where she pointed toward the trees. From the woods to the north a lone figure had emerged. Theo, Anchara, and Bandor drew their bows in an instant. The figure halted in the deepening shadows near a tree. “There are others with him,” Tienna said. “He comes to talk. Hold your arrows. Perhaps there is hope.”

  “Hope?” Cane asked. “I don’t think Golach—”

  “It isn’t Golach,” Tienna interrupted. “Don’t you see?”

  Elynna looked at Tienna with surprise. “See what?”

  “These are no Citadel soldiers. It is a band of Undeani warriors who surround us. We are in their land. They have probably been with us all day.” Tienna paused and almost laughed. “Namha must have known this also. They were much too quiet for Citadel soldiers.”

  “Then we are safe?” Elynna breathed in relief. Could she dare hope that?

  Tienna’s answer was hesitant. “Safe? I don’t know. Not if they have come for war. If they believe we are their enemy, then we have little chance—no more against them than against Golach.”

  “Surely we need not fear them as much—” Lluach started to say.

  Tienna interrupted him. “Ask your Andani friends if the Undeani are to be feared. They are a fierce folk, hardened by the difficult life here, suspicious and untrusting and as likely to kill us first and then try to decide who we are.”

  “I have heard such about them,” Bandor said. “There has been little enough commerce between our peoples over the generations. Of all the folk of Gondisle—”

  Whatever he was going to say was cut short. “He approaches,” Cane said.

  “That is good,” Tienna replied. “If they meant to kill us we would be fighting by now. Or dead. I will guess they are fifty or more.” She spoke something to Namha in the Uëtha tongue. He replied almost at once, and Tienna translated for the others. “Namha says they are at least forty. He says that some are in the woods. He has seen them in the shadows. Others wait atop the ridge, and more wait on the hill to the south. Their scent carries with the wind.”

  Meanwhile, the approaching Undean warrior had halved the distance between them. Elynna could see him clearly now. He wore a heavy vest of sheepskin along with sheepskin leggings and boots. But despite the cold, his arms were bare from the elbows down. In his left hand he held a hefty double-edged ax. His arms and face were painted with strange blue and red patterns. The contrast of rough white sheepskin and painted face made him look fierce.

  He approached the nearest member of the company, which happened to be Cathros, and stopped ten paces away. Speaking the common trade language but with a heavy accent, he commanded, “Put down your weapons and come with us.”

  Cathros, who was nearly a foot taller, stared at him hard but did not respond. The stranger repeated his command. “Put down your weapons and come with us, or prepare yourselves for battle.”

  “We will not be taken as prisoners,” Cane replied, stepping out from behind his brother. Elynna had heard the same proud voice many times before. “If we must fight to remain free, we are prepared.”

  “So be it,” the stranger replied. With a slight bow, he backed toward the woods without taking his eyes off Elynna and her companions. “Make peace with your gods.”

  26

  THE DAUGHTERS OF JHON AND MARYL

  For just a moment, when he climbed out the top of the well and saw thick high walls of stone all around him, Thimeon feared he had emerged inside a fort or barracks. But he realized soon that it was more like a private courtyard, square and about thirty yards across. There were a few fruit trees at one end but not enough to call it an orchard. The sun was just high enough above the eastern wall to cast light on the ground. An arched doorway led out on the south side. He saw no sign of any people.

  “Recognize this place?” Duke Armas asked the prince in a quiet voice.

  Dhan looked around and shook his head no. “Not from this vantage.”

  “We’re inside the estate of Jhon, Symon’s son,” the duke said.

  “I know that name,” the prince replied. “He breeds and raises fine livestock. Horses mostly, but other beasts as well. And he does it well. Well enough to keep himself in a large house with good clothing and the ability to buy fine wine. But he is unfriendly to the throne.”

  “You’ve listened to your father too much,” the duke replied. “Nobody but the king would call Jhon unfriendly. I’ve dined here many times, and I’ll wager Thimeon’s merchant friend has also. Symonson is as generous as they come, and his wife, Maryl, is one of the great beauties of the south. Her father was a merchant and this estate was in her family. The Symon farm and pastureland is farther from the city—a day’s journey to the southeast. Together they’re as wealthy as any duke or duchess in Citadel. Unlike me, however,” Armas said with a wry smile, “they refused to use their money to buy themselves titles. No disrespect intended to the prince, but they couldn’t care less about the court.”

  Thimeon was now cold and wet and impatient. “So where is everybody? We need to move. Dry off. Find our way as far from Citadel as we can get. And then back into the mountains.” He paused. “This place looks vacant. It’s quiet too.”

  “Just beyond that wall, there, are the sleeping quarters of his servants,” Armas replied, pointing to the wall on the east side. Then he turned. “Through that arch is a small sheepfold. We’re lucky. Jhon has complained about his water for years, and finally last fall he dug a new well. He doesn’t use this one anymore except to water the sheep. Anyway, I don’t think we’d need to worry if he found us. He’s no friend of Koranth’s. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen him in several days. I wonder if—”

  Dhan silenced him with a gesture. Two female voices had just become audible on the other side of the arch. The prince and duke rushed over to the entrance just as two young women walked in, each carrying a pair of buckets. They were obviously sisters, one about eighteen years old and the other no more than fifteen. Both were slender, with long flowing black hair and high Northland cheekbones rather than the more rounded southern faces. The older had dark-brown eyes and a muscular, toned body not very common among the wealthy or the nobility. The younger was strikingly beautiful and just coming to fullness of figure. She stood an inch taller, was softer in features, and had eyes of light hazel. Their clothes were expensive and well tailored but muddy and torn from use.

  Thimeon guessed was about to happen an instant before it happened. There was nothing he could do. When the two women saw the group of men standing beside the well, they gave a start and dropped the bucket
s. The younger one yelled in alarm and stumbled backward, while the older turned to run. Dhan and Armas stepped out from the side and grabbed them. Dhan slid his hand over the younger one’s mouth and held her firmly. The duke managed to pull the older one back from the door, but then he collapsed clutching his groin while she sprang up again and made to dart away. She would have escaped the yard if Thimeon hadn’t already started toward the entrance. He wrapped his arms around her from behind and pinned her wrists to her side, just barely dodging her foot and a similar fate as the duke’s. She was strong and he had a hard time holding her wrists.

  “I’m going to let you go,” he said before she could struggle away on her own. He gave one hard pinch on her wrists to get her attention. “Please be quiet and listen. We’re not here to hurt you. But we need help.” Then he let go. He called to the prince to do the same.

  Dhan released his white-faced captive, who ran over to her sister’s side and stood facing the strangers. To Thimeon’s surprise, the older sister made a deft movement behind her back, and a long dagger appeared in her hand. “More of the king’s assassins?” she asked.

  Before Thimeon could answer, Armas rolled over on his back and groaned. “Not quite, my dear young friend.”

  “Duke Armas?” the younger girl asked in surprise.

  “I can’t imagine your father or mother greeting me like that.” Armas said between gritted teeth. “Where did you learn that?”

  “Where did you learn to sneak into our estate and grab young women from behind?” the older daughter shot back angrily. “As for greeting you, I’m afraid my parents are not around to greet anybody.” Then she looked more carefully at the nine intruders. “You’re all wet,” she exclaimed. Then she saw the prince and Jhaban, and her knife came up once more. “You are the king’s men.”