Logically, Chuli and Thiron were somewhere beneath the plateau that formed the canyon wall. After five minutes of navigating the tunnel, she began to wonder how far it went before it returned to the surface.
It was gradual at first, but the tunnel began sloping upward, the dust in the air thickening. After a dozen more strides, the incline steepened until Thiron and Chuli climbed from the tunnel. After removing the cloth from their faces, they surveyed their surroundings.
They had emerged in a box canyon with steep walls a quarter mile apart, both sides rising hundreds of feet up. The visible starlit sky above was a narrow strip that ran east and west, the stars providing enough light for her to see the scrub and rocks surrounding them.
“We will head east until we find a way out of the canyon,” Thiron said softly. “We may need to wait for daylight to scale a wall if there is no opening at the end.”
Holding the glowing rock held before him, Thiron began weaving his way through the brush with Chuli a step behind.
The going was slow…methodical. More than once, they were forced to backtrack when they came to a dead end of rock, cacti, or shrubbery. Loose gravel crunched beneath their feet with each step, becoming louder in the low areas that acted as a wash. The wash made Chuli think of rain. Having grown up with box canyons, she knew how dangerous they could become during heavy rainfall. The water had to go somewhere and it often did so at a swift pace.
Numerous times, Thiron stopped and held his hand up, listening. Hearing movement, Chuli would stare into the darkness with one hand on her bow, the other holding the fletching of an arrow in her quiver. The second of such an instance was made more intense by the reflection of eyes shining in the brush, green and unblinking. Suddenly, the animal bolted, scurried across the canyon floor, and disappeared into a thicket.
“Coyote,” Thiron said as he resumed his trek eastward.
After what seemed like many hours, the canyon narrowed until the walls stood no more than fifty feet apart. Towering, dark, and imposing, the canyon walls seemed as if they sought to consume Chuli and Thiron. In that narrow gap, they came upon a pile of massive boulders that ran uphill.
Thiron said his second word of the past three hours, “Landslide,” and began to climb the rocks.
Moving with even more care, their pace slowed further. Halfway up, Chuli stepped on an unstable rock, caught her balance, and pulled back as it broke loose and began a long, noisy tumble down the pile. Thiron glared at her with the glowing stone held between them, and Chuli winced at the commotion. Minutes seemed to pass before the rock came to a stop, the noise stopping with it.
“Sorry,” she whispered.
With a grunt in response, Thiron turned and resumed his ascent.
Concentrating on each step while following her mentor and his glowing stone, Chuli didn’t notice the sky above growing lighter until the surrounding rocks had grown noticeably more visible. She paused and noticed the top of the surrounding ridges standing just two stories above her. Hurrying, she caught up to Thiron, scrambled up the embankment, and climbed atop a narrow plateau.
The sky to the east glowed with the pale blue of impending dawn. Twilight covered the plateau in purple light, mixing with the shadows that left Chuli imagining the night resisting the coming day, reluctant to release its grip on the land.
Thiron led her across the ridge and slowed when he reached the downslope on the other side. The man stopped and Chuli stopped beside him, both staring at the scene below as the sun edged over the horizon.
An expansive, flat basin stretched before them, covered in trees that stretched for miles. To the south, Chuli could just make out the strip of roadway that ran along the cliffs overlooking the Sea of Fates. Directly south of their position, in a narrow choke point between the ridge and the sea, a wooden structure blocked the road. It was miles away and the light still pale, yet Chuli could see soldiers moving about the area. That must be the blockade Marcella described – the border of Empire lands.
Turning north, she found mountains and plateaus similar to the one where they currently stood. The sun further eased its way into the sky and forced Chuli to squint at the glare. She held her hand over her eyes and peered to the southeast. From deep in the forest, thin trails of smoke rose toward the sky.
“The enemy camp,” Thiron said. “It must be ten miles away.”
Chuli eased forward and peeked over the edge. The drop was likely a thousand feet – the cliff wall too steep to navigate.
“How do we get down?”
“Come,” Thiron turned and walked along the cliff edge, heading north. “We will find a way, and then, we will rest until it grows dark.”
A nightrill call echoed from a tree somewhere above. Another bird repeated the call, somewhere to the west. Although the forest was dark, it lacked the overwhelming presence of the Red Towers, north of Vallerton. The thought stirred memories – images of a giant badger flashing in Chuli’s head. The monster’s attack had wounded Wyck and nearly killed Thiron. Chuli’s arrows had done nothing to stop the beast nor had they reduced the terror that had gripped her. If not for Jonah’s healing abilities and the augmentation he had applied to Wyck, they all would have died. A chill ran down Chuli’s spine. She hoped never to face anything like that monster again.
The meager remaining leaves in the surrounding trees allowed starlight to filter through and extended her field of view. Ahead of her, Thiron gripped the small glowstone in his fist, covering much of it while a narrow slice of pale light shone upon the ground before him. Rather than moving with speed, they focused on stealth.
Placing each footstep softly while avoiding fallen twigs or wilted leaves required concentration and patience – an effort that wore on Chuli. The short naps she had been able to capture during the day didn’t help the situation, leaving her unrested. She and Thiron had spent the daylight hours in a cave-like recess atop the plateau. Once the sun had finally neared the western horizon, Thiron led Chuli down a series of ledges and slopes toward the bottom of the cliff. By the time they had reached the bottom, dusk was upon them. Chuli recalled looking up at the dark wall of rock they had descended and thinking that only a goat might decide to climb it.
Thiron stopped and gestured for her to stop as well. Chuli listened and heard…laughter? The sound was distant and from somewhere east of their position. Adjusting his course, Thiron angled to the left, toward the sound.
Thiron pocketed the glowstone and the darkness grew more bold, the shadows deeper. Moving with care and only starlight to guide them, they circled around a thicket and ducked beneath low branches before stopping. Orange flickering light appeared in the distance and then faded, only to reappear again.
“Quiet, now,” Thiron whispered.
Chuli frowned at him. As if that needed saying. You may as well remind me to breathe.
The man gestured to the north, indicating for Chuli to head in that direction. Crouching, Thiron snuck off to the east, circled around a tree, and slid beneath the bough of a lonely pine.
Pausing to collect herself, Chuli took a calming breath and crept northward. Laughter came from ahead, along with the hum of people talking. She caught a glimpse of flickering firelight and the peaked silhouettes of tents nearby.
Using the light as a beacon, she eased toward the edge of the wood, got down on her hands and knees, and crawled through some long grass growing between two thick shrubs. Careful not to shake the branches, she continued forward until the camp came into view.
Dozens of men sat around the fire while others milled about, some slipping into tents for the night. Within the camp, she counted five tents, each spacious enough to sleep six or eight men. Beyond, she spotted other camps, with the flickering orange of fires extending as far as she could see.
Two men stood from beside the fire and said goodnight to their fellow soldiers. Turning, they headed toward the gap between tents and straight for Chuli’s position. She remained still, scarcely breathing as the men approached.
> “How long do we wait here?”
“Capt’n says not long, now. More soldiers comin’ from the north. They get here, an’ we march.”
Both men stopped before the shrubs to Chuli’s left and right and then began to relieve themselves. The way her heart pounded from anxiety, Chuli feared that the men might hear it above the sound of their streams.
“I’ll be happy to go. I’ve been itching to try those muskets against something other than a practice target.”
The other man snorted. “Those little pea shooters ain’t gonna make no difference.”
The acrid scent of urine began to waft up Chuli’s nose. She held her breath and prayed to the Spirit of Nature that the men leave.
“I’ll take those against a sword any day. Before anyone can get close enough to poke you, bang, they’re dead.”
“I’ll put my money on the flash bombs.” The men turned and began walking toward the tents. “Launch a few o’ those, and there won’t be nobody left t’ fight.”
Their voices faded to murmurs as the distance increased, leaving Chuli alone with the thump of her pulse.
Chuli backed away on her elbows and knees, rose to a crouch, and tried to catch her breath. Movement in the periphery made her jump with start. Her hand went to her chest when she realized it was Thiron, passing just a few strides away. He waved for her to follow as he headed north.
Chuli squatted beside the brook, the air bubbling from her water skin as she filled it. Tilting the water skin to her mouth, the cool water soothed her throat as it slid down. After dunking it back in the water and filling it again, she capped it and climbed back up the rise. She ducked beneath the pines that lined the water and crouched while she approached Thiron’s position.
The light of the setting sun painted the basin with an amber hue and made Chuli think of looking at the world through a brown-tinted bottle. The forest stretched out below for a good half mile before it opened to the clearing where the army was camped. Thiron was not looking in that direction.
Turning toward the east, Chuli spotted another force approaching. The reflection of the sun off metal drew her eyes farther south.
“Those steam carriages look big beside the men on horseback,” she said.
“They are big. And they are pulling something as well.”
Chuli counted four machines, each generating a combination of black smoke and white steam. Watching in silence, she tried to identify what each carriage was towing.
“This is not good,” Chuli said when she recognized the machines rolling behind each carriage. “Those catapults are big.”
Thiron backed away from the edge, and Chuli mirrored his action, with neither standing upright until they were beyond the trees.
“We have seen enough,” Thiron said. “We must return as quickly as possible. The garrison must be warned. They cannot stand up to what they are about to face.”
“It will be a difficult climb up the cliffside if you plan to return through the canyon.”
Thiron stared into the distance, his eyes narrowed in thought. “Speed is more important than stealth. Night is coming soon. We will loop around the western perimeter of the forest and will follow the road back to Hipoint.”
Chuli turned in that direction, frowning. “What about the barricade? There are guards. How do we get past it?”
With a grim look from Thiron, Chuli knew the answer.
Clouds rolled in from the sea after nightfall, blotting out the stars and leaving the night as black as ink. The blue glow of lamps provided light for the guards on the eastern side of the wall – light that was to their backs as they stared west.
Built in haste to barricade the hundred-foot gap between the steep cliffside to the north and the precipitous drop to the sea on the south, the wooden wall stood fourteen feet tall. The gate at the center remained closed and barred. A ten-foot-high scaffold ran across the interior to each side of the gate. Four bowmen stood upon the scaffold, staring over the wall, ready to attack anyone approaching from Hipoint. They apparently had not considered a threat approaching from behind them.
Crouched in shadows so thick that she could not see the bow she held before her, Chuli waited while Thiron crept around the backside of the barracks. She stared hard into the blackness and tried to determine his position. A shadow shifted along the barracks wall, barely visible from the indirect light of the glowlamp around the corner. Thiron eased along the wall with his back to it and neared the corner. Moving quickly, Thiron snuck a peek and pulled back. A moment later, he slipped around the corner. That was her signal.
Remaining in a crouch, Chuli climbed down from the rock pile and crept toward the wall, careful to remain in the shadow cast by the barracks. Timing her strides with the crashing waves below the cliffs, Chuli hoped the sound was enough to mask the crunch of gravel beneath each step she took. The entire time, she watched the men atop the wall, ready to loose an arrow if one turned around.
When she neared the barracks, Thiron reappeared with a rope trailing behind him. He wrapped it about a log sticking from the wall and tied it off. He turned toward her, slid his bow off his shoulder, and gave a nod.
Chuli ran to the road, drew, and took aim. Her target – the furthest guard upon the wall – stood fifty paces away. She held the bowstring back, steady, and her target seemed to grow as she focused upon him. Adjusting for the breeze coming from the sea, she shifted her aim and released. Before the arrow even struck, her hand was at her quiver, her fingers gripping the fletching of another arrow. The first arrow struck her target between the shoulder blades. He stumbled to his knees while she nocked her bow. Chuli drew back as the guard nearest turned toward his companion. The first guard fell backward off the scaffold as she released the second arrow, it striking the other guard in the ribs. The guard twisted about and saw her. She instantly nocked another arrow and shot, but not before the guard could call out.
“Attack!”
Her second arrow took the guard in the throat. He collapsed on the scaffold. The other two bowmen were already dead, both victims of Thiron’s arrows. Thiron ran toward the gate with Chuli a few strides behind him. He tried to lift the bar, but it barely moved. It was a long, heavy slab of wood treated to resist flames.
A commotion from the barracks caused Chuli to turn toward it. The door opened, but only a few inches. Soldiers inside bellowed and struggled to pull it free, but the rope Thiron had tied to the handle held firm.
“Help me with this.” Thiron said.
Chuli shouldered her bow and got beneath the bar. Using her legs, she pushed upward with all her might while Thiron did the same. The bar lifted, cleared the supports, and they both leaped backward as it fell to the road. Thiron then pulled on the gate, opening it enough for Chuli to slide through. Hearing a cry of pain, Chuli turned to find Thiron spun around, leaning against the inside of the gate. Grabbing his wrist, Chuli pulled him through the opening, and then she saw the arrow sticking from the back of his shoulder.
“You’re hit,” she said.
“I’ll be fine. Just break it off. Someone will heal it when we reach the garrison.”
With one hand, she gripped the arrow tightly at the base where it met his skin. Using the other, she broke the shaft and he gasped in pain, stumbling forward. Chuli dropped the broken arrow and found her hand covered in his blood.
“Don’t just stand there,” Thiron said as he waved her forward. “Run.”
Chuli followed him past the glowlamps posted beside the road. The man was wounded – the back of his jerkin damp with blood. It was easily ten miles to Hipoint, assuming he made it that far. As the lights faded behind them, the darkness thickened. An image formed in her mind, one of her and Thiron stumbling blindly over the cliff’s edge. Running in the dark, she heard only rasping breaths, footsteps on the gravel, and the surf far below.
10
All for a Map
The wait staff poured through the kitchen doors and into the corridor. Among them, Brandt Talenz carrie
d a carafe of wine in one hand and a tray of goblets in the other, careful to ensure that the swinging door did not strike the tray. He had made that mistake once the previous week. The result was a disaster that had nearly seen him fired. Memories of Master Sheen’s screaming resurfaced. At the time, Brandt thought the veins in the man’s temples might burst. Once Sheen had said his piece, and the broken glass had been cleaned up, Brandt resumed his duty as a steward. Not one word of the incident had been spoken since.
Up the stairs, the wait staff climbed with Sheen in the lead. Jurgan and Poul, the other two stewards, bracketed Brandt while the food servers followed. An official walked past, paying them no heed. Brandt thought back to his life in Kantar, all the times he had duly ignored servants, never giving them a second thought – never considering that they were the same as anyone else. He now knew better. They all have families, hopes, and dreams of a better life. I wonder how many honestly love what they do and how many see such service as a yoke about their neck. The observation made him wonder how he had not realized it earlier.
Reaching the door to the dining room, Sheen stopped, and the others stopped behind him. Sheen stepped inside and announced that drinks had arrived. On that signal, Brandt and the other stewards entered the room.
Tonight’s dinner was an important one with all eight Council members, Archon Varius, General Kardan, and Captain Sculdin in attendance. Brandt had heard talk of another captain named Rorrick, but had not seen the man since his arrival in Sol Polis, two weeks past. Standing at the far end of the room was the girl who drew his attention.
Quinn was leaning against the wall in a casual manner, arms crossed beneath her breasts while her steely blue eyes surveyed her surroundings. Those eyes met Brandt’s and her expression altered slightly. She ran one hand through her blond hair and tugged at the tail hanging over her shoulder. Two tugs meant to meet her two hours after nightfall.
An Imperial Gambit (Wardens of Issalia Book 3) Page 9