“I too am feeling restless,” Miranda said, breaking the silence. “I think I will go down to the city and see if there is anything I can do.”
“All right. It will be good for the people to see you. Just be careful and get back. Remember what your husband told you. The kingdom will need leaders like you to rebuild.”
“They will need you too,” Miranda reminded her mother.
Miranda descended the wooden steps leading from the battlements and entered the city. The old class boundaries were gone with soldiers, refugees, and defenses filling the wealthier district’s streets just as they did the lower wards. Families huddled under meager shelters, many nothing more than sail cloth stretched between neighboring rooftops and alleys. One of the few things Miranda was able to be grateful for was that the siege was not occurring in the winter. If they had to fight the elements as well as the Scions, the death toll would have likely already started.
She waved and smiled at the people she passed, giving reassurances as best she could to ease the overwhelming fear of the populace. Miranda made her way through the upper district to the center of the city where the gate, their only true source of salvation, no matter how temporary, lay. The streets became noticeably more congested. The people knew this was where they would flee, and no one wanted to be at the back of the line despite the fear of using the magical device.
The crowd became increasingly agitated the closer she got to the gate and soon became a mob clearly on the edge of violence. Miranda was pushed and squeezed by the press of bodies trying to get to the gate, demanding they be activated and allowed to pass. It took a great deal of shoving, demanding, and sometimes a well-placed punch to get to the front where ranks of soldiers used their spears and shields to hold back the tide of terrified citizens. She tried to push past the soldiers and received a bash from one man’s shield. Only the crowd of people behind her kept her from falling, a potentially lethal proposition despite her armor as the teaming mass would crush her underfoot.
She pushed forward once again and grabbed the top of the soldier’s shield as he made to shove her once more. “Soldier!”
The man’s eyes widened in recognition. “Lady Miranda, I did not see you!” He grabbed the daughter of North Haven and pulled her behind him.
Miranda found an officer, one she recognized from the school. “Lieutenant, what is happening here?”
“The people are demanding to go through the gate. I have orders not activate it until commanded by my superiors to do so. I tried to tell these people, but they don’t want to listen.”
“They’re afraid, Lieutenant.”
“So am I and not just of the invaders!”
“I’ll try to talk to them.”
Miranda found one of the mages tasked with guarding and operating the gate. “Maira, I need your help to talk to these people.”
The Sumaran mumbled a couple words, made a quick gesture, and nodded. Miranda climbed atop a barricade and called out over the crowd’s tumultuous voices.
“People, you must remain calm!” Her voice boomed out over the crowd, stunning most of them into silence. “If we let fear drive us, we open the doors to our enemy.”
A large man dressed in the clothes of a successful merchant called out. “We hear these creatures will soon be tearing the doors down, and we don’t want to be here when they do!”
“I understand your fear, but we cannot activate the gate yet. If we do, the Scions might be able to track us to Brelland and send a large number of their forces there where we would be unprepared to meet them.”
“We have families! You cannot keep us locked up in here like sheep waiting for slaughter!”
“We all have families, and we are all scared. It is for their sakes we must remain calm and lead by example.”
“We are not going to remain calm while this horde comes in and slaughters us! We will take this gate and force you to open it if we have to!”
“People, please!” Miranda beseeched. “We have a system in place to ensure everyone gets out safely.”
“A system to get your kind out first I’ll wager!”
“There will be no distinction on who…”
A cacophonous boom shook the square, shattering windows and knocking many of the protesters to the ground.
“This city is under martial law, and you people threaten the security of the populace,” Ellyssa shouted from atop a defensive bulwark, her body wreathed in the arcing power of pent up magic. “You look to be a big boy. Why aren’t you on the wall?”
The vociferous merchant got to his feet and looked around him for support but saw mostly a sea of cowed faces. “I have a family to protect.”
“As Lady Miranda said, we all have families, and you will protect them better from atop the wall.” The stone-faced young woman looked to a group of soldiers. “You men get this and every other able-bodied man to their stations. The rest of you lot have five minutes to clear this square or I will clear it for you.”
“You have no right to order us about!”
“This war gives me the right, and my training gives me the ability. I will not allow you idiots to threaten the security of this city and the safety of its people.” Ellyssa gestured and stone spikes grew from the cobbled streets, forcing the front ranks of the crowd away lest they be skewered. “Anyone attempting to cross that picket will be executed without hesitation. Now clear these streets!”
The crowd began dispersing as soldiers pushed into their ranks, separating those able to fight. Miranda, her face burning from rage beneath her helm, stalked to the barricade upon which Ellyssa stood.
“That was unnecessary! Those people were just frightened. I did not need you to come in like a thug and bully them into submission!”
Ellyssa turned to the Lady, her face stony and dispassionate but unable to hide the fire smoldering within her eyes. “You would have stood there talking until the ravagers came and gutted the lot of you. This is not the time for talk; it is the time for action.”
“This is my city and my people!”
“Not for much longer,” Ellyssa said coldly.
Miranda visibly trembled, barely unable to contain her fury. “You used to be such a wonderful girl.”
“A lot of things used to be that will never be again.”
Ellyssa turned and walked away, leaving Miranda standing alone to stare out across her city and wonder if it was one of the things that never would be again. Tears of sorrow and anger ran down her face as she made her way back to the castle. Even that long walk did nothing to extinguish the anger burning within her. She stormed into the parlor, hurled her helm across the room, and poured a glass of wine. She drained the glass and the half-filled bottle and hurled them both against the wall.
“Something troubles you, Lady?” Raijaun asked from the open doorway.
Miranda sat down and ran her hands through her hair. “Ellyssa. There was a problem at the gates. She came storming in and threatened to kill the entire crowd if they did not disperse. They were just scared and wanted to protect their families. The last thing they need is to be brutalized by their own people.”
“You should try not to be too hard on her. Azerick’s disappearance has her shaken, and she is trying to fill his place.”
“Azerick would never treat people like that.”
“Are you sure? I think perhaps you want to remember Father the way he was, not how he is now.”
“He would never attack his own people,” Miranda defended.
“Probably not, not lethally unless absolutely necessary, and I doubt Ellyssa would have either.”
“I’m not so sure. You did not see the look in her eyes.”
“I have seen it. I have seen it in the eyes of many of us. It is the look of fear, desperation, and an unwillingness to let anything stand in the way of victory. It is the look I have seen in both Father and Daebian.”
“Daebian…I think about him all the time and pray he is somewhere safe, that he sailed far away from this
chaos.”
“I fear that is very unlikely, and we will see him again before all is done. Daebian would dance and sing as the world burned around him simply because it was interesting.”
Miranda stared blankly at the wall. “Is my son truly such a monster? My heart weeps for him and screams denial, but the things he has done…”
“No, Daebian is not a monster. He is probably the most brilliant being to walk this world. Unfortunately, brilliance and madness often walk hand in hand. Daebian simply lacks the thing that keeps most everyone else from doing whatever they want to do. He is uninhibited by sentiment, guilt, or shame. He and I are very much opposites. I have the power to do almost anything, but lack the desire to do so. He has the desire but, thankfully, lacks the power. Yet in spite of that, he will likely prove a far greater threat than any of us.”
“A threat to whom though?”
“To whomever he chooses.”
***
Peck and his two fellow riders, Kaitlin and Byron, sat wearily in their saddles, leaving a slight haze of dusty air behind them. The group, one of five riding to the numerous small towns and hamlets to warn of the impending invasion, had been travelling for days with very little sleep and ate their meals almost exclusively from horseback. They rode from town to town, urging the citizens to flee to either Brelland or Brightridge before following an often circuitous route to the next point on their map.
“Fowler’s Creek should be less than an hour ahead,” Peck said as he studied his map, “then we have to hit Gifford’s Hollow. After that, it’s a straight run to Brelland.”
Kaitlin groaned. “I am going to soak in tub for an entire day without moving. I’ll have my meals delivered to me on a floating tray.”
“I am going to annex a kitchen somewhere and eat until I burst,” Byron stated. “I think these trail rations were made by a sadistic mason. What are you going to do first, Peck?”
“Give thanks to Solarian that we made it and pray we survive this,” Peck responded.
“Do you think it’s started yet? Is North Haven already under attack?” Kaitlin asked, the thoughts of her luxurious bath quashed by Peck’s seriousness.
Peck shook his head. “I don’t know. Ellyssa said it wouldn’t take long. If the battle hasn’t started yet, it will soon.”
“I guess it’s lucky we got this job then,” Byron said without conviction.
“We’ll get ours soon enough. Like Azerick said, no one will be untouched by this war.”
“It doesn’t seem real, does it?” Kaitlin asked. “Forgotten gods coming back to avenge some ancient battle. Hordes of inhuman monsters raging across the land killing everyone they can find. When I first came to the school, I thought all the military training was kind of silly. Who were we preparing to fight, especially after they defeated those stupid mercenaries of Ulric’s? I guess Azerick knew we would have to fight someone again someday.”
“Why do we have to fight gods anyway?” Byron demanded. “Isn’t that why we have our own gods? We pray to them, offer tribute, and for what? It’s like going to restaurant and having to cook your own food.”
Peck said, “I guess the gods aren’t much different from us mortals. Kings start wars, but it’s people like us who have to fight them.”
“Do you guys smell smoke?” Kaitlin asked as the wind shifted and an acrid scent tainted the air.
Peck drew a cavalry saber of Sumaran design and pointed it toward their destination. “Look at the vultures circling up there. I think that’s Fowler’s Creek.”
“Smoke and buzzards is never a good sign. Could the fighting have gotten this far already?” Byron asked nervously as he cocked his light crossbow and set a bolt in place.
“I don’t think so, but these ravagers have attacked some towns before. It could be a small group managed to come ahead of the main body.”
“Should we turn around?”
Peck thought a moment. “No, it would take us a day out of our way, and we don’t know what’s going on. If the ravagers are here already, we need to report it to Brelland when we get there.”
“Kinda lookin’ like an if right now.”
“Way to stay positive, Byron,” Kaitlin admonished and loaded her crossbow as well.
The riders approached the town at a slow walk, straining their eyes and ears in search of danger. Their mounts’ ears flicked nervously, and their agitation was obvious in the rapid twitching of their muscles and frequent whickering. The smell of smoke grew more intense, and the haze burned their eyes and scratched at their throats as they drew near.
There were no active fires, but the remains of several buildings still smoldered, indicating the carnage had occurred only a few hours ago. Bodies littered the ground, human and a few ravagers, as well as the carcasses of any animal not swift enough to outrun the brutal creatures. It was a dire scene as the number of human dead vastly outnumbered those of the ravagers.
“Everything is dead,” Byron whispered. “All the people, the livestock, pets, everything.”
“Now you see why Azerick was so intense,” Peck said. “This is what is coming for us all. This is why we trained so hard.”
Kaitlin looked fiercely at the carnage and her voice caught as she spoke. “I want to kill them. I want to kill them all so bad right now.”
“We’re going to.”
“Do you think they attacked Gifford’s Hollow too?”
“I don’t know, but we’ll find out in a few hours.”
It took only minutes to cross through the town as they gave witness to the unending scene of destruction and death with every step. They were near the edge of town and looking up the road leading toward Gifford’s Hollow when the ravager attacked. It bounded from the charred remains of an inn and leapt at Byron.
Byron twisted in his saddle and loosed his crossbow at the creature, striking it in the chest while it was in midair. The strike did nothing to dampen its inertia or deflect its aim. The ravager’s jump easily carried it across the narrow street and struck horse and rider with enough force to bring them both down. Byron tried to deflect its curved blades as the ravager ignored its brutal wound and slashed at its prey.
Byron’s mount whinnied in terror, clamored to its feet, and bolted, its fear overwhelming its training. Kaitlin took aim and buried her quarrel in the creature’s neck, causing it to howl and arch back. Byron took advantage of the relief, drew his short sword, and stabbed the ravager repeatedly. The downed rider used his legs to shove the monster off him as it writhed and quickly succumbed to the numerous mortal wounds. Several howls arose in the distance and Peck made to leap from Newmoon’s back and help Byron up, but the wounded young man stopped him.
“Don’t, I’m done for.” Byron pulled his hand away from his stomach, and blood welled up from the vicious wound as he reloaded his crossbow. “Ride fast. Maybe I can get one more before I bleed out,” he gasped.
“Byron, no, we can get you out!” Kaitlin cried and made to ignore his insistence.
Peck leaned over and grabbed her mount by the bridle. “No, Kaitlin, he’s right. We need to get out of here. Byron, you’re going to be a hero, I promise.”
“I like the sound of that. Now git!”
With an anguished cry, Kaitlin wheeled her horse around, and she and Peck put their heels into their mounts’ flanks and raced away. Byron heard the shrill cry of his horse in the distance.
“Just for that, I’m going to kill two of you bastards before I die,” he promised the ravagers now bounding toward him.
He waited until the first ravager was nearly on top of him. Flecks of spittle from the creature’s slavering maw dotted his face before he squeezed the lever. The bolt struck the ravager in just beneath its chin and pierced its brain. Byron rolled, thrust up with his sword, and felt it dig into the flesh of another attacker. He did not know if he made good on his promise to kill two of them as he felt the sharp pain of blades pierce his body just before darkness took him.
Rolling thunder followed Peck and
Kaitlin as their horses’ hooves beat the ground, kicking up dust and clods of dirt in their headlong flight from certain death. Tears streamed down their faces from the wind and the heartache of losing a companion, washing away the accumulated dust and dirt of several days’ constant riding. At least half a dozen ravagers bolted from the woods and beat a furious chase, howling and snarling their hatred. Although not quite as swift as their horses, it was clear they would not lose them easily.
Even as they raced ahead and could no longer see their pursuers, the riders could hear the ravagers’ howls and yips, and they were never far behind. It was nearly twenty miles to Gifford’s Hollow, and not even Newmoon could maintain a sprint that long. Three more attackers leapt onto the roadway ahead, blocking their path.
Peck looked quickly left and right. “This way!” he shouted and plunged off the road onto a game trail.
Peck and Kaitlin raced down the goat path, heedless of the branches brutally whipping their bodies and raising welts on exposed skin. Their hearts beat a rapid staccato matching the thrumming of their horses’ pounding hooves as they rode for their lives. The snapping of branches and the crashing through brambles and brush gave away the presence of the ravagers keeping pace beside them.
Peck heard a sudden change in their cadence as Kaitlin screamed and her mount whinnied in terror. In the split second it took him to glance over his shoulder, his friend was lost from sight. His heart screamed for him to go back, but his mind insisted it was already too late, and there was nothing he could do. He screamed at the wind and spurred Newmoon to his fullest potential, no longer holding back so Kaitlin could keep up.
Trees and underbrush flew by in blur, the stinging lashes across his face lost in the pain of his friends’ deaths. Newmoon managed to increase their lead despite the treacherous, narrow, twisting, path. If he could just get back to the road, Peck figured he could get enough of a lead to slow Newmoon to a sustainable pace that would carry them both to Gifford’s Hollow and hopefully some sort of help.
The Sorcerer's Destiny (The Sorcerer's Path) Page 24