Dark Realm: Book 5 Circles of Light series

by E. M. Sinclair

  ‘Gan!’

  She crossed the space between them without thinking and hurled herself at the tall thin man before her. Solid arms went round her and she felt a solid chest beneath her cheek.

  ‘How? Why?’ Words tumbled in an incoherent babble until she finally forced herself a little away from him and looked up into his face. She couldn’t read his expression any better now than she could before but she understood the love in his eyes. He stretched out a hand and pulled Sket close, then gently released them both. Tika drew in a sobbing breath and sat down hard. Sket sat too and Gan folded his long body to join them.

  ‘My dears.’

  It was Gan’s voice but Tika couldn’t see his face through her tears.

  ‘Ferag wouldn’t let me go Beyond. She said I was too angry. And I was. Furious that I’d failed you. So I’ve been here considering the choices she’s offered me.’

  Gan brushed the tangled curls off Tika’s forehead and Sket closed his eyes briefly at that oh so familiar gesture.

  ‘And what were the choices she offered you?’ whispered Tika.

  ‘To continue here indefinitely, to become a ghost and slowly fade, or to accept the half death.’

  Tika stiffened. ‘The half death? Like Corman?’

  Gan looked puzzled. ‘I do not know Corman.’

  ‘No matter. If you choose half death, what does that mean for you?’

  ‘Ferag says my service to you is not yet fulfilled. When it is, I will go Beyond with no regrets.’

  ‘And will you come back to our world?’ Tika could barely restrain her hope.

  ‘Ferag says I can do so, within some limits. Is this what you would have me do Tika?’

  ‘I would have you do whatever you choose Gan.’

  He nodded slowly. ‘I have a few days more to decide.’

  ‘Maressa?’ Tika caught his hand.

  ‘Maressa chose the winds and the air,’ he said sadly. ‘And Ferag knows nothing of Seela. She’s told me some of what’s happened to you, but not all. I didn’t believe her when she said she would allow you to visit here.’

  ‘This place, is it dreadful?’

  Gan laughed. ‘No. There are a lot of people here. Some are – strange, but others make fair company.’

  He looked above Tika’s head. She threw herself on him, knowing that Ferag had appeared to take them back to Corman’s office.

  ‘Family Gan?’ she whispered.

  ‘Always family,’ he whispered back.

  Icy fingers touched her hand, a wrenching jolt and she sat, with Sket, by Corman’s desk. Of Ferag there was no sign.

  Essa was white with a mixture of rage and fear when Tika and Sket suddenly reappeared. She looked at their faces, both wet with tears. Essa spun round to glare at Corman.

  ‘I’ll kill her if she does that again.’

  Corman’s mouth twitched. ‘A pointless exercise Sergeant, and to attempt violence against Ferag is very badly received.’ He gave his attention to Tika. ‘I did not know Ferag was going to do that. But was it of any help to you?’

  Tika wiped her sleeve across her face. ‘She took us to meet Gan.’ She felt exhausted. ‘He was Emla’s Captain of Guards who travelled with us.’

  Corman nodded. ‘And he was killed when you were dragged into the Splintered Kingdom?’

  ‘Yes. He says Ferag has offered him the half death.’

  Corman studied his fingernails. ‘May I speak to others of your offer to help us?’ he asked eventually.

  ‘Of course. Farn has yet to fly again, but his strength will return fast once he does so.’

  ‘You would risk him again so soon?’ Corman’s voice was a murmur.

  Tika’s chin came up. ‘Neither of us would be here or even alive, but for your First Daughter’s sacrifice. We could do nothing less if it would help her or her people.’

  ‘There is to be a meeting at darkfall. The first guards have moved to the lower reaches of the mountains. Attend if you wish, and consider how you might be of help.’

  Tika and Sket slept the afternoon away after Tika had relayed to Kija and Farn the visit to the Realm of Death. Shea had overheard, and sat silent, thinking while Tika and Sket slept. Khosa had come in to the chamber several times whilst Shea was there. Khosa seemed restless and stayed only long enough to give Akomi’s ears a brisk wash.

  Shea studied the Dragons: they were both asleep too she thought. She slid Akomi onto a cushion and set off after Khosa. When she entered the First Daughter’s bed chamber the first person she saw was Alloc. He’d been kind to her the night they’d got back from that horrible Splintered Kingdom, and he always had a word for her when he met her now. Shea saw him before he saw her and was concerned to notice how very old he looked. But he glanced up and spotted her hovering by the door, and smiled. The age slipped away from his face.

  It was quiet in here, very quiet. Shea approached the enormous bed and neither Alloc nor the woman sitting by the window moved to stop her. The little orange cat was curled by the pillows, purring steadily. Shea stared at the First Daughter, her mouth forming a circle of shock.

  There seemed to be no eyes, the bones of the face pushing up towards her forehead. The lower jaw appeared dislocated. Shea could see teeth, not normal teeth, or filed teeth like Essa’s. These were more like tusks, spearing both up and down outside the stretched skin of the lips. Beneath the light bed covers, Shea could tell the body was as badly misshapen as the face. She backed away towards Alloc and stared at him for answers.

  ‘It is the price the body pays, child.’

  ‘But she will get better?’

  Alloc opened his mouth to lie, but the woman by the window replied.

  ‘We don’t know child. She went so deep into the Dark and for so long. We can only watch, and wait, and care for her as we can.’

  ‘Just to find the Dragon?’ Shea asked.

  Alloc hesitated then shook his head. ‘Truly Shea, I do not know all of it. Perhaps only Dabray, the First Lord, knows the whole. The First Daughter had to find the young Dragon and reunite him with his soul bond, Tika, the woman you helped bring from the Splintered Kingdom. Those two must be of some great import for the First Daughter to risk so much. But of that I can tell you nothing, for I do not know myself.’

  Shea looked at the woman in the bed, then back to Alloc. ‘She healed my shoulder. You saw, didn’t you?’

  Alloc nodded. ‘I saw what she did and I have no idea what power she used to do it. It seemed almost an easy task for her, but it looked miraculous to me.’

  Shea gave him a small smile and left him to the sad task of watching by that bed. Akomi yawned when she settled beside him, but she stroked him absently. She watched Tika, curled on cushions against Farn’s chest.

  ‘Whatever awful thing you have to do, I’ll help you,’ she vowed in her thoughts. But it felt as if something was missing, Something to make her vow really serious. She remembered what Jemin had told her of her father.

  ‘I swear this in my father’s name: Cawlin of the Weasel Clan.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  By the time the four scouts reached the village, men had already arrived from outlying areas. Men who represented villages large and small, and also those from isolated steadings. Each man was accompanied by two youngsters, boys and girls: the swiftest and most surefooted of runners, to relay messages at need. Menagol left Theap to show the scouts to rooms in the guest house close to The Bear’s own round house. Menagol made straight for the inner room where The Bear sat waiting. The Bear grinned.

  ‘We will fight soon,’ he said by way of greeting. ‘Dark Lords are on their way, so Lemos says. Have you seen this Kelshan army yourself?’

  Menagol shook his head. ‘The scouts say four thousand are advancing. But they have no knowledge or experience of mountains. I believe the scouts I have brought here speak truly when they say they have no desire for warfare with any of this Realm.’

  The Bear growled. ‘Then why are they coming?’

  ‘Father,
I said the scouts do not wish to war on us. There are officers leading this army, and probably at least half of the men, who want only to quench their blood lust and find some treasure to plunder. The woman who ordered them to do this, is not respected by the scouts at least. The eldest, Chak, wears a seal stone. He comes from what he called wild clans who dwell in the far north beyond Kelshan. He respected the woman’s father, but holds no loyalty to her.’

  The Bear nodded. ‘Lemos has said the same. And he heard these things from Karmazen. Some of our warriors leave before darkfall.’ He looked at his son gravely. ‘None of this army is to return to Kelshan.’

  ‘Is that your decision father, or Karmazen’s?’

  The Bear’s lips peeled back in a snarl, revealing his teeth. Only the canines were filed, the rest still strong and square.

  ‘I have decided this. Not one man returns to Kelshan I say. Let the rumours increase of the deadly magic which protects these lands when the Kelshan men fail to return.’

  The door opened and Emas hurried in, her face white. ‘The Raven is here,’ she hissed.

  A cackle of wild mirth preceded Hag’s strutting entrance. The Bear got to his feet, a towering figure beside his son.

  ‘You bring news Raven?’

  The beak gaped and feathers rattled. ‘Why do you all think I am merely a messenger?’ Her tone was peevish. ‘I come in anticipation.’ Hag’s eyes glittered. ‘Anticipation of a feast.’

  Still cackling and muttering, Hag hopped from the room. The Bear scooped his wife close to his side. ‘The Raven won’t hurt you.’

  Emas pushed him away. ‘You heard her. A feast. That’s why she’s here. Bodies for her and her kin to feed on.’ She turned her glare on her son. ‘And you’ll be in the thick of it no doubt fool boy, along with your idiot father. I pray Mother Dark keeps Essa in Karmazen.’

  She stormed out, leaving her two men feeling obscurely guilty. She was skilled at that.

  The Bear sat down again. ‘I’ll speak with these men you brought in. Lemos will be with me. If we think them unworthy, they die. Lemos and I will decide, if they live, whether to keep them together or separate them. If Lemos says they speak truth, they will be kept back from the fighting anyway. They may say they have no loyalty to the Kelshan bitch, but if they see their army, including perhaps men they know, being killed, they may feel differently.’

  He tilted his head to meet his son’s eyes. ‘Will you take Theap when you go – or leave him here?’

  Menagol’s crimson smile flashed. ‘Unless you order otherwise, I would have him with me, as always.’

  The Bear laughed. ‘As you will. Have those scouts brought in to me.’

  He was still chuckling by the time Lemos arrived. Theap had been born the very same day as Emas’s twins. Theap’s mother died and Theap was a tiny sickly babe not expected to last the day. But, according to custom, the child was brought to the chief’s house, and to everyone’s astonishment, he lived. He grew up with the twins, although he didn’t grow very far. But his mind was sharp and his loyalty fierce. The Bear and Emas knew Theap would give his life rather than let harm befall either Menagol or Essa. Lemos had watched and listened, and he told The Bear that he had an exceedingly clever foster son in Theap’s small person.

  Over the years, the Dark Realm tribes had dealt with a very few incursions from Kelshan. Mostly small groups of hunting parties whose enthusiastic bravado in penetrating the Barrier Ranges brought them to violent and unmourned deaths. The Bear brought his mind back to the here and now, and prepared to interview the four Kelshan scouts.

  Menagol went along to his own room. He, and his father, could move amazingly lightly and silently when they chose, and he chose to do so now, having no wish to invite a visit from his mother in her present mood. He took down his hunting pack from a shelf in his clothes cupboard and packed it quickly with changes of clothes and a very light but very warm blanket.

  He went into the passage again and along to a room further down. Sticking his head round the door, he saw Theap lying on his bed, hands behind his head. Theap grinned when Menagol slipped in and closed the door without a sound.

  ‘Avoiding someone?’

  Menagol saw Theap’s pack, already strapped, standing within hand’s reach.

  ‘She’s not pleased. And she thinks Essa is going to be left in Karmazen.’

  Theap swung his legs over the edge of the bed and caught up his pack.

  ‘And she isn’t?’ Theap’s boyish face lit up.

  ‘No. Lemos told me on my way in to see father. She’ll be coming with some strangers the Dark Ones think might be helpful.’

  Theap snorted. ‘We need help? A few Kelshan guards puffing up our mountains are likely to give us trouble?’ He pulled his pack straps over his shoulder and trotted after Menagol.

  Captain Strannik stood for no complaints from any of the men now under his command. The few officers who had doubts from the moment Strannik usurped Captain Lessur, were still keeping silent. Two unit leaders had requested speech with Strannik and had then expressed their concerns over the willingness of their men to continue this increasingly arduous journey. They were both flogged, Strannik himself wielding the whip, with evident pleasure.

  The murmurs of discontent sank to the merest whispers, but still went the rounds. The further they went from the Kelshan foothills, the bolder and more arrogant Strannik became. There was no sign of life, animal or human, only occasional patches of a coarse yellowish grass and a bluish mauve lichen clinging to the base of rocks. They had not seen another mountain cat but had heard, at dusk, the coughing roar echoing off the cliffs surrounding them.

  The fact that several units were now handicapped by having to stretcher the two flogged men as well as others who had suffered sprains and broken bones in falls on scree, bothered Strannik not a jot. The horse handlers and the mounted guards were mostly silent now. They were deeply worried by the way flesh was melting from the horses and at every halt poultices were applied to hot and swollen hocks.

  Many older guards felt a constant itch between their shoulder blades and found themselves searching the rocks around them and the cliffs above for any sign of enemy bowmen. Strannik remained utterly unaware of the unhappiness of his men. He was filled only with visions of battle and glory, of a victory which would be his in but a handful more days at most.

  Nine days since entering the mountains proper. The previous day they’d had to backtrack, to Strannik’s rage, after finding their way blocked by a massive jumble of rocks torn away from the slopes above. But at last the trail seemed a little smoother, a little broader, a great deal more inviting. Strannik kicked his weary horse forward eagerly. He realised the peaks which had dominated the sky for so long had thinned ahead. He twisted in his saddle to urge his mounted officers to speed on the foot guards.

  Opening his mouth to shout the order, he watched in disbelief when the leading man toppled slowly from the saddle. Time froze. Strannik stared at the arrow lodged in the man’s eye, penetrating deep into the brain. Officers and men reacted far quicker than Strannik, diving to the sides of the trail to seek what cover they could against the rock.

  Time began again, and Strannik threw himself from his horse, glaring wildly up at the mountainside. Brief cries came from further down the line and word came back that four guards were hit, one of them dead. Instead of ordering his officers to disperse amongst the foot guards and thus maintain some sort of contact with all of his men, Strannik dithered. This wasn’t what he’d planned. He had envisaged a place where the land was flatter, more open, where his army could attack the other face to face. He had presumed they would first encounter small hamlets, like the ones on the Kelshan side, which they would raze to the ground as a preliminary to the main battles. But this - .

  He couldn’t tell how many men might be hidden all around. No one had seen what direction any of the arrows had come from. Men were pushing up from the rear of the line which had suffered no attack. After the brief silence of shocke
d surprise, voices rang out, asking for orders, for explanation. One of the officers, who privately distrusted Strannik, hurried over to him.

  ‘I’ll go down the line sir. There should be an officer near the rear.’

  Strannik stared down his nose at the man.

  ‘You will do no such thing Sekran. I am in command here and I want all officers close by.’

  ‘But sir,’ Sekran stopped when Captain Strannik’s heavily gloved fist back handed across his face.

  The remaining six officers watched Sekran straighten, blood streaming down the front of his green uniform.

  ‘As you say sir.’ Sekran saluted smartly and turned away, returning to his horse. He caught the eye of another officer who took a step back at the blazing anger in Sekran’s damaged face.

  Sekran dug a cloth out of a saddlebag and mopped at his face. He held his horse’s rein firmly and led it towards the foot guards who had halted on the trail. The horse whuffled and fidgeted at the smell of fresh blood but then walked quietly enough at Sekran’s shoulder. Men squeezed to the sides of the trail to allow Sekran passage, then flowed back together, watching their commander in front.

  Strannik hadn’t even noticed Sekran’s departure, his obvious intent to disregard a direct order, and join the guards at the end of the line. Flagrant disobedience, from an officer, didn’t even occur to Captain Strannik.

  The three warriors of the Eagle Tribe rejoined each other beyond the shoulder of the eastern mountain. Without a word, they jogged single file through a maze of stone. They travelled precipitous ledges without hesitation and eventually came to a small camp by a fast running stream. They headed straight for a slight woman who sat on the bank, watching them come.

  ‘They come through the pass that will bring them out in Bear territory.’ One warrior hunkered beside her. ‘Their leader is a fool.’

  The woman laughed. ‘You know that from one glance?’ she mocked.

  Another warrior crouched beside the first. ‘He is a fool,’ he insisted. ‘He could not tell from whence our arrows came. He stood still long enough for a child to shoot him half a dozen times.’