The Chronicles of Lumineia: Book 03 - Seven Days

by Ben Hale

  "You huh?” she said, giving him a shrewd look.

  He grinned wide, wondering where he’d had the confidence to say such a thing, and tried not to break eye contact. He could almost hear Anders talking into his ear, “You had to pick a pretty one didn’t you? Don’t you know you were never good with the pretty ones?”

  She started to laugh, low and quiet, with the first hint of levity she’d demonstrated since he awoke. “I guess you’ll do,” she said, rising to her feet. “The commander wanted to know when you awakened. I will make sure he knows. If you would like, I will return after my rest time."

  He nodded and settled back into his bed, grateful that his stomach had settled a little. How’d I do Anders, he thought, missing his longtime friend even as he talked to him in his head. Though he wasn’t there, Gaze still knew how he would have responded.

  Since when did you start paying attention to how I got the ladies?

  Maybe I’m a slow learner.

  He knew Anders would laugh at that, and the echo of his friend's humor sounded in his mind.

  “Just don’t let her die.”

  “I don’t intend to,” he said out loud, but the words felt hollow, even to him. Stuck as he was, he knew he was helpless to do anything—and the last time he'd failed. King Drayson and Anders had both lost their lives because he hadn't protected them.

  This time the sorrow wouldn't dispel.

  “Watch over her, would you?” he murmured, fighting a wave of exhaustion.

  Always my friend. Just like I watched over you.

  Chapter 6: A Mother’s Love

  Keri Greatstride raced towards the west entrance to the Women’s Caverns at the back of Azertorn, dodging women bearing litters of wounded soldiers. Reaching the tall archway, she slipped through the slow moving crowd and followed the long tunnel until it gave way to a massive cavern. High and wide, the chamber was the first of several that housed many of the women of the gathered races. Oblivious to the dejected atmosphere, she darted towards a side tunnel and hurried past hundreds of cots lining both sides of the wide space.

  Of medium build, Keri had brown hair with matching brown eyes. Although curvy, she moved with precision and grace, slipping through the crowd with ease. A pretty, yet common dress hugged her figure, allowing her the freedom to move between a knot of wounded. In her haste, she did not notice the curious glances cast in her direction. Only one thing occupied her mind, her husband.

  Finally she reached one of the smaller caverns set aside for the villages surrounding Bree Lake, a community located several days below the southern capitol. Slowing, she picked her way through the throng of people, giving distracted nods to those she recognized. At last she slipped behind a stack of arrow crates to find a makeshift tent. Without hesitation she ducked inside.

  “How is he?” Keri asked as she knelt by the side of her husband. “Has the healer come?” Her hands sought his hands and clasped them, as if the strength of her grip would save him. The silence from the other side of the tent made her look at her sister, who’s eyes conveyed a deep sorrow.

  She fought the wave of tears with all her might, but a few managed to escape. “How much time?” she asked through a clenched jaw.

  Her sister shook her head. “Maybe a couple of days. He said he was lucky to even survive such a wound.”

  Keri looked away, feeling her eyes burn. This is so unfair! she screamed silently. Her husband had been one of the best soldiers in the southern army, and had been a captain for over three years. He was the youngest ever to carry such a rank. She had known when she married him that there was a chance he would be killed in battle, but she’d never imagined an enemy such as the one they faced.

  Abruptly the whole cavern shook, causing dust to settle from the ceiling. The rough movement elicited a cry from the corner of the tent, and in a single bound Keri reached her daughter, Sarah. Lifting her into her arms Keri cradled the baby until she returned to slumber. She crooned as she caressed the small tuft of brown hair.

  “Would you like me to hold her?” Diana asked.

  “No,” Keri said, struggling not to hold her baby too tight.

  Diana rose to her feet and checked the bandage on Jason. Although she was not a healer, their mother had been, and she had inherited a small portion of the sight. Not enough to heal, but enough to help care for the wounded. Keri had always thought of her older sister's gift as a blessing, but now she felt a bitterness that she had not inherited more.

  “Is there anything you can do?” Keri asked, desperation leaking into her voice despite her effort.

  Diana rose and shook her head. “He is still bleeding inside. The healer used every ounce of strength Jason possessed to fix his organs and close the major cut. If he took any more energy it would sap him to the point of death anyway.”

  Keri turned away, feeling her face tighten as she refused to accept that her strong husband would die.

  Behind her, Diana sighed. “Do you think we can win, Keri?”

  Keri sank into the rocking chair that Jason had found for her less than a day after they had arrived at Azertorn. Biting her lip at the lingering expression of his love, she forced herself to look at her sister.

  “I don’t know Diana, but I believe if every one of us stands together, then Ero will not allow us to perish." She bit her lip. "If the rumors are true, we only have to last another five days.”

  Diana sank into another chair. “I just never thought someone as strong as Jason could fall.” Her voice turned to a whisper. “What if no one takes his place?”

  “Someone has to!” Keri exclaimed, causing Sarah to twitch in her sleep.

  Diana didn’t back down. “Have you ever known someone to fight as hard as him?” Her tone carried the conviction of one who knows they are right.

  Keri opened her mouth to reply ‘of course’, but the words didn’t come. It would be a lie and they both knew it. For a long moment, Keri felt despair reach for her soul, but then a flash of blinding clarity streaked through her mind.

  “Yes Diana, I have,” she said, her chin rising. Surprise radiated from her sister's incredulous expression, but before she could demand who, Keri added, “Me.” She straightened. “I will take my husband’s place.”

  Diana leapt to her feet. “Keri no! That is not what I meant.”

  “You know I can fight as well as he could.”

  “That is not the point—”

  “And that you can take care of Jason while I am out there.”

  “But—”

  “And Sarah.”

  “What if you don’t come back!?”

  Her words echoed into a lasting silence.

  Keri shrugged. “I am a mother. My greatest responsibility is to be an example for my children. How can I do that if I yield to my fear? Our country needs us—our world needs us—to fight.”

  Diana whirled and stalked to the tent flap, but stopped short of leaving. Without turning around she said, “Ero has not graced me with a husband. I don’t know if I can be a mother to your child if you die.”

  Keri returned Sarah to her crib before striding to Diana’s side. Turning her about, she gave her a warm embrace. “You will be the most amazing mother I have ever seen, whether it be to your children, or mine.”

  Diana began to cry, and the soft sobs wracked through her thin body even as Keri could feel her fighting them back. “I don’t want to lose you,” Diana whispered in her ear.

  Keri couldn’t stop a smile. “I don’t want to lose me either,” she said, causing Diana to laugh through her tears, and the two separated.

  “What do you want me to tell the others?” Diana asked, wiping her eyes. “Almost everyone in the village knows how close you are. What reason would make them believe you are not by his side?”

  Keri swept her hand at her inert husband. “Tell them I went looking for a healer that can help. They will believe that.”

  Diana nodded sourly. “I would believe that.”

  Keri sighed. “His shift s
tarts in two hours. Help me get his armor ready, would you?”

  “What if he wakes up and needs it back?” Diana said with a ghost of a smile.

  “Then I will be all too happy for him to worry about his armor,” Keri replied, not daring to hope for that possibility. Reaching for the full chain mail of his rank, the two sisters began tailoring it to fit—and mending the giant gash in the side.

  Time passed quickly, with each absorbed in their thoughts. When it was finished Keri slid into the repaired armor and stepped into her husband’s uniform. Stuffing her hair into the helmet she looked at Diana. “How do I look?”

  Diana snorted. “Like a pretty man.”

  Keri frowned and grabbed a handful of dirt. Rubbing it onto her face, she asked, “Better?”

  “Better,” Diana said, but leaned forward to make a few touches. “But it’s a good thing Jason had the midnight to eight shift on the front line. The darkness should make it harder for them to recognize you.”

  “And easier for the fiends to kill me,” Keri said.

  Diana looked away and Keri immediately felt sorry for saying it. “I’ll be fine,” she said. “Jason taught me very well how to use a blade. Remember when we used to practice before we were married?”

  Diana’s expression softened. “He always wanted someone who could match him with wits and a weapon.” She chuckled and added, “Didn’t he ask for your hand the day after you beat him?”

  Keri nodded, her eyes moist at the memory. “He used to tell me he fought hard for me, and then in the same breath say he went easy on me.”

  “Did he?”

  “I don’t know,” Keri shrugged, making the armor clink. “I never could tell. I think he knew not to let me see him going easy.”

  Diana nodded affectionately, “You would hate that.”

  “I know,” Keri smiled, her eyes on her unconscious husband.

  The two sisters stood there for several seconds, and Keri reflected on better times. Then Diana spoke, her voice wooden. “I guess it’s time.”

  Keri nodded and bent to kiss her husband. “Wish me luck,” she whispered. “I am going to need it.” Then she turned and kissed her little daughter on the forehead. “Be good for Aunt Diana. She needs you to be a good girl.”

  Then she stood and buckled on the sword belt. Ready, she stepped to the door of the tent and looked back at her family. “Take care of them Diana.”

  Her sister nodded, fighting back the tears. Then she raised a hand. “Wait.” Whirling to a trunk on the side of the room, she sifted through it until she came up with a small silver locket on a chain.

  “Mother's locket? But she gave that to you,” Keri protested.

  “I want you to wear it, for luck.” Diana said.

  Keri knew what the offer meant. The pendant represented the sole piece of jewelry from their mother, and it was Diana’s birthright, small as it was. It had represented their father's love for their mother, and now represented Diana’s love for Keri. Reverently Keri allowed her sister to place the chain around her neck. Swallowing the knot in her throat, she embraced Diana one last time before slipping from the tent, her mind already turning to the battle ahead.

  Just as she rounded the crates of arrows, she stopped and leaned against them. Closing her eyes she whispered, “Jason, wherever you are, come back to me, and watch over me while you are away.” Moments later, she was slipping through the throng towards the battle above.

  It was time for her to defend her family.

  ***

  Night had begun to fall, but the activity in the command center had not diminished. Braon sighed in relief, allowing himself a small moment of hope. They had endured the second day. It was a small victory, but sufficient to award hope to many of his troops. Since morning, they had stopped two major assaults, and closed other severe breaches along the cliff. Each time the cost had been bloody, but strength of will and sheer courage had helped them survive through the waning hours of the day.

  But night would be their true test. The darkness would again give their enemies additional courage and strength, while weakening their own forces in morale and ability. Braon took solace in the fact that they had already endured one night, and he hoped they could outlast another—especially when they didn’t have to defend the Lake Road. General Golic had reported that the fiend army had been working ceaselessly to remove the massive rock pile, but it would be at least another day or two before they got through. When they did, the road would be hit hard.

  In the meantime, the only critical places to worry about were the city defenses, which seemed to be holding up well, and the cliff edge. His plan to use the various cavalry units had been effective. They had demolished any group that broke through the line, and had driven them off the cliff.

  At the base of the city, a massive battering ram pounded the city gates, but Braon wasn’t overly concerned about that. Fifty feet of solid stone backed the false front doors—but if the secret side doors were broken into . . .

  Surprisingly, The Deep, with its dip in the cliff, had been well defended by the black elves, who had lived up to their reputation of expert swordsmen and mages. The black elf general, Val’Trisian, had only reported a breach once throughout the last two days, but she had also reported it being closed just as quickly. Braon hoped the underground race would continue to hold fast throughout the dark night.

  “Commander?” Newhawk asked, his tone amused.

  Braon focused on his second in command, realizing that he had let his mind get away from him. “Sorry, where were we?”

  The druid smiled and said, “I was giving you a status on the women’s caverns.”

  Braon gave a curt nod, glad that no one besides Thacker and Rokei were close enough to see his lapse in attention. He knew he needed more sleep, but also knew he wouldn’t get it. He would just have to work his way through the growing headache. “My apologies, Newhawk, please continue.”

  The druid bobbed his head before launching into the rest of his report. “The women’s caverns are performing well, and the stock of arrows, bolts, and food is all within expected use. The women are also doing an admirable job of keeping up morale, to a certain degree, and—”

  “What do you mean?” Braon asked, catching the inflection in his tone.

  “In short,” Newhawk said, “sadness and fear permeate the caverns, and many of the women are struggling.”

  Braon's brow furrowed, his thoughts distant. “Did you see them firsthand or did you receive a report from the queen?”

  Thacker interrupted with a minor situation, and once Braon had adjusted the map to see and give orders accordingly, he turned to his second to hear the reply.

  “I saw them with my own eyes, Commander,” Newhawk said. “It is difficult for them to maintain hope while caring for a continuous stream of wounded—and watching many die.”

  Braon turned to the map and enhanced the view until he could see inside the caverns. The slow pace of the women and the crowded hall of cots told the story. Braon closed his eyes, wishing there was something he could do to remedy the situation. He needed the women to help the men heal, and he needed the women and children to stay safe. Sighing, he decided to change what he could.

  “Ask the queen if we can expand the healing post at her palace for the critically wounded. If she says yes, redirect all severely wounded to that location.”

  It would mean sacrificing efficiency to improve moral, but he hoped it would be worth it. Keeping those likely to die out of the women’s caverns would leave only those likely to heal, and should lighten the spirits in the enclosed space.

  “How are the wounded, overall?” Braon asked, moving on.

  “The healers are, in a word, overwhelmed,” Newhawk said, “but they are doing their job well. I hear Aléthya in particular is saving quite a few lives.”

  Braon nodded without taking his eyes of map. “She is paying a heavy price for them. I hope they realize that.”

  “She was always good with the soldiers,�
� Rokei said from the side of the room, causing several heads to swivel in his direction. “They know.”

  Braon nodded, turning back to the magical map before him. Something about Rokei’s words nagged at him, but the thought refused to come to light and he didn’t have time to dwell on it. Glancing back, he looked at his worn second in command. His face was drawn and haggard, and the druid leader had dark circles around his bloodshot eyes. Ash from the phoenix's magic darkened his face and clothes.

  “Have you had any sleep?” Braon asked, his eyes narrowing.

  Newhawk hesitated before nodding, but Rokei shook his head from behind him, causing Braon to smile. “Get some rest. You have been awake for almost a day and a half. I will need you fresh for tonight.”

  The great druid appeared on the verge of arguing, but then he wilted and nodded. He’d done an excellent job of hiding his fatigue, but when he walked away he was dead on his feet. Braon watched him go until Thacker cut into his thoughts, his voice urgent. “We might have a situation.”

  Braon’s eyes snapped to the telepath, waiting as Thacker's expression remained unfocused. Then he blanched and seemed to see Braon for the first time.

  "General Emeka is missing."

  "What do you mean, missing?"

  "Our Link says he just woke up. The general is gone—and so is his second in command."

  Braon's forehead creased in anger. This was unacceptable. Emeka had been trained against such behavior, so where could he have gone? Then it clicked. For the Azüre people, chiefs lead their people into battle—and typically died in battle as well. Because their quests for glory so often lead to their deaths, Braon had instructed him to remain behind the lines. Emeka had despised the order.

  He would be on the front line.

  Tightening his jaw against his fury, he blinked at Thacker. "Have Adaeze and Jake find them. If he doesn't return to his post, The Ridge will fall."

  "And our world will fall with it."

  Chapter 7: Pride

  Adaeze mounted her horse and pulled Jake up behind her. Their guards followed suit, and together they rode through the darkness towards the front line. As the daughter of the renowned chief-turned-general, she knew her father had hated to stay behind, but couldn’t imagine what had driven him to do such a thing. Was glory that important to him?