The Legend of Oescienne--The Reckoning (Book Five)

by Jenna Elizabeth Johnson

  Once she’d located all the pieces, she frantically strapped them on as quickly as she could without Dervit’s help. In the span of fifteen minutes, Jahrra was fully clad and stepping from her tent, her elvin armor in place, her longsword sheathed and hanging by her side, her bow and quiver secured at her back. Denaeh and Ellyesce were still standing outside, but when the Mystic spotted her, she assessed her young friend with a sharp eye.

  Jahrra bristled. “You can lecture me all you want. It won’t change my mind. Besides, I must face the Crimson King eventually and since he refuses to leave his castle, perhaps that means I must go to him. If going in after Jaax is the way it has to be done, then so be it.”

  “Jahrra,” Denaeh breathed, “we aren’t going to stop you. We are going with you.”

  Of all the things for Denaeh to say, Jahrra hadn’t expected that. She opened her mouth to give a retort, and found she didn’t need one.

  “I have to be there, too,” Denaeh admitted, her voice barely a whisper.

  Ellyesce reached up and put his hand on the Mystic’s shoulder, his fingers tightening in a gesture of support. If she hadn’t been so tied up in knots over Jaax’s capture, Jahrra would have lifted both eyebrows in surprise at the Magehn’s actions.

  Instead, she spoke very carefully as she asked, “What have you seen?”

  The Mystic paled, shaking her head slightly. “I can’t tell you, Jahrra. If I do, it may change what is to come. I cannot risk that. We cannot risk that for the sake of Ethoes.”

  She could have stood there and argued with the woman, demanded the Mystic tell her what she wanted to know, but Jahrra understood it would be a waste of energy and a waste of time. Instead, she gave a jerk of her head and said, “Let’s go.”

  Jahrra turned to make her way to the arena where the horses were kept.

  “We’ll have to approach the castle on foot, Jahrra,” Ellyesce stated. “It will be difficult enough crossing the open tundra without being seen. If we take the semequins, we’ll stand out even more.”

  Shoulders slumping, Jahrra faced her friends again. In all honesty, she was glad. She was probably very well marching off to her death. To take Phrym with her would mean his death, too. She could not bear that. A memory flittered across her mind in that moment, of a night standing by a fast-moving river beneath a clear sky. She was back in the Hrunahn Wilders with a bonfire and celebration at her back, the dark wood stretching before her. Like her future. She had been terrified of death then, unable to fathom what she might do if her friends fell in battle. Now, she couldn’t face down her destiny fast enough. But, it wasn’t entirely about her fate anymore. The enemy had Jaax, and when she had made that vow to defend his life unto her last breath, just as he had made it for her sake, she had meant it. The war had finally begun, it was undeniably real, and that fear she’d felt while still so far away from this moment seemed contrived, pathetic even. Wholly insubstantial. It amazed her how easy it had become to shove past that fear and risk everything when she had everything to lose.

  “You’re right,” Jahrra finally said, addressing Ellyesce’s concerns. “But, we may still be spotted.”

  “Not if we can create a distraction of sorts,” Denaeh offered. “Nothing too obvious, but something just noticeable enough to keep Ciarrohn’s eyes directed elsewhere.”

  “You have an idea, I take it?” Ellyesce queried, one dark brow arched.

  Denaeh nodded her head. “Aye. I do.” Reaching into one of the many pockets lining her dress, the Mystic pulled out a large stone. “And, a small blessing from Ethoes herself, as well.”

  Jahrra narrowed her eyes, taking in the pearlescent, colorful sheen of the multi-faceted object.

  “Is that–a mage diamond?” Ellyesce rasped.

  Denaeh pressed her lips together, but nodded, her fingers curling tightly around the beautiful gem.

  “Perhaps, this suicide mission isn’t so hopeless, after all.”

  * * *

  In the end, it wasn’t really a distraction Denaeh had in mind, just the inevitable. She encouraged the king of Dhonoara to begin the march on Cierryon half a day early.

  “From what our dragon scouts have been able to tell us, we are currently five miles away from the enemy’s outer flank,” Denaeh said, pointing a finger at a thin line stretching east to west just beneath the foot of the mountains. “The Noryen River,” she continued, “is the only thing standing between the Coalition army and the castle at Vruuthun.”

  “That and the massive legion backing Cierryon,” someone, one of the king’s advisors, muttered.

  Thanks to Tollorias and the other two Korli who had arrived earlier that morning, the Coalition’s leaders now knew exactly where the enemy forces stood.

  Denaeh cast the king’s advisor a sharp glance, and the elf actually balked. She returned her attention to the map and continued with her detailed explanation. “The Noryen is responsible for draining the Great Sulfur Sea, and as it flows north, it becomes more of a wide, boggy trough full of acidic sludge. The eastern bank is higher than the western bank and that is why his army, if they are ever directed to advance, will stop at that point. To keep the advantage.

  “Currently, there is no reason for them to press forward and attack us. They have Jaax, one of our key players, and I suspect it may have been Ciarrohn’s plan all along to capture him to use as bait. He’s hoping for a rescue attempt, but he may not expect the entire army to move, especially if he’s aware our spies have estimated their numbers to be far greater than ours. The Tyrant is counting on us to be afraid and to play things safe. We can still do that and give Jahrra a chance to sneak into the castle to find Jaax.”

  “Why would we want to deliver the one thing capable of destroying him like some trussed up chicken on a platter?”

  The question came from Prince Edinas, and Jahrra cast him a perturbed glance. Crossing her arms and fighting against her impatience to leave, she stated, “Because, he would not expect that. Because, it is the general consensus among all those familiar with the prophecy that I must confront him in order to defeat him. And, most importantly, because he has my guardian and nothing, short of death itself, is going to keep me from trying to help him.”

  The prince blinked in surprise, then took a step back as if Jahrra’s words had left welts across his skin. In the corner, Dathian grinned, his eyes glinting with pride and amusement.

  Denaeh also fought a smile as she continued, “We are still about twenty miles from Vruuthun Castle, but even if you move our forces within a hundred yards of the Noryen, you’ll be well out of reach of their long-range weapons. This is all about getting the Tyrant to look your way while Ellyesce, Jahrra, and I sneak in behind his back.”

  “Although the bulk of Cierryon’s army is closer to the castle,” King Vandrian commented, indicating a collection of scarlet pinpricks at the base of the mountains on the map, “there are still plenty of troops camped on the other side of the river, restless and eager for a fight, just like our own army.”

  Denaeh nodded, and a subtle tension settled over the gathered men and women as they all realized what he was implying.

  It was Dathian who voiced it aloud. “Which means,” the elf said carefully, looking each of the assembled Coalition allies in the eye, his gaze lingering longest on Jahrra, “that if we do this, if we move our army in order to cloak your activity, it might very well be viewed as the first strike.”

  Ellyesce nodded. “If we are very, very lucky, the Coalition’s advancement will do nothing but pique Ciarrohn’s curiosity, and perhaps, we can end this without ever engaging in a full-out war. However, we must accept the fact that the Tyrant’s troops have been sitting in this same weather, waiting on a blade’s edge to act. My guess is, whether their master views it as that first strike or not, his idle soldiers will, as Vandrian has pointed out.” He glanced up, his green eyes going hard as they fell upon the one human woman standing among them all. “Either way, the war begins now, Jahrra. Once we make this move, there is n
o going back.”

  For several heartbeats, a heavy silence once again pressed down upon them all, spilling between the cracks in their resolve, either hardening their courage or feeding their fears. Jahrra glanced down at the map, traced the river with her eyes. The twenty miles between their location on the western side of the Noryen and Vruuthun was mostly flat, open mixed tundra and rolling moorland littered with jagged granite stones. It wouldn’t be the easiest march, but it wouldn’t be the worst. And, this battle had to begin sometime, if not at dawn tomorrow, then at dawn the next day. They could not sit outside the Tyrant’s territory forever, waiting. To do so only gave him more time to build his power. Even now, he could have crossed the point where nothing in this world could defeat him. No, she didn’t have the luxury to take that chance. They were outnumbered, and it was a long shot, but if she could get close to Cierryon, close enough to fulfill her mission in this dangerous game they all played, then perhaps, their smaller number wouldn’t matter. But, most of all, she thought of Jaax. She had called him her best friend that night in the gardens of Castle Dhonoara, and it had been the truth. After everything they had been through together, after all the times he had come to her rescue, the least she could do was come to his.

  Swallowing back a flicker of apprehension, Jahrra squared her shoulders and met the elvin king’s eyes.

  “We march on Vruuthun. The allied armies will approach the Noryen and remain on this side of the river for as long as you can, but make for the castle if it comes to that. Ellyesce, Denaeh, and I will head northwest until the Noryen meets the West Noryen.” She traced the line of the river with her finger, landing on a spot where the rivers forked beneath the western arm of the Greater Frozen Mountains. “We’ll cross here, then follow the hills until we have the castle in sight.”

  Jahrra continued to trace the Noryen until she reached the top of the range. Vruuthun Castle was nestled between two summits on the other side of the river. “We should reach our destination in a few days, and Ethoes willing, I’ll be in the castle by the time our troops engage the bulk of Cierryon’s force. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll find a way to destroy Ciarrohn before too much blood is shed.”

  “That’s a very big ‘maybe’,” the king of Dhonoara grumbled, giving his brother a pointed look. Ellyesce only stood his ground, refusing to apologize for giving Jahrra that tiny flicker of hope.

  Jahrra shot Vandrian a harsh look. “I know it is, but considering I still have no idea how I am supposed to destroy the Tyrant, this is the best chance we’ve got. And, if I can’t rely on hope, then I have nothing.”

  “Are you certain, girl, that your decision is based on your desire to save the peoples of Ethoes, and not a single Tanaan dragon?”

  Jahrra went pale, then flushed at the question asked by that same patronizing advisor from earlier. Before she could respond, however, Ellyesce jumped in, his tone laced with steel, “You will do well to remember, Edral di’Valorehn, that this girl will be the one to face down the most feared enemy the world of Ethoes has ever known. Unless, of course, you want to volunteer to take her place?”

  The elvin lord turned pink, his lips pressed tightly together, his fists clenched at his sides.

  “And, how are we to know events weren’t meant to unravel in this exact manner?” Denaeh added, her voice just as cold as Ellyesce’s.

  “If Ethoes had any mercy at all, she never would have allowed her son to take root in the soul of a corrupt man to begin with,” the rude elf continued. “But then, perhaps, that wasn’t entirely her fault, either.”

  “Edral, that is enough!” King Vandrian snapped. “You shame the di’Valorehn line with your bitter, accusatory words. Denaeh is right. This is our chance to march onto Soehel. We very well may perish in our attempt, just as the Tanaan king and his sons after him, perished before, but at least we will die fighting for the freedom of our world instead of lying with our tails between our legs like whipped dogs. We have been complacent for far too long. It is time to act.”

  The elf called Edral said no more, but his expression remained hard as stone. In the end, it was decided the party would leave just before dusk. Jahrra protested vehemently, but she was soundly overruled. Nightfall was only a few hours away, after all, and it would take them some of that time to make ready to leave. Ellyesce worried that since Jaax and the other dragons had so boldly encroached upon Vruuthun, the Tyrant would be sending out more spies to lie in wait.

  “With the full cover of dark, we’ll have a better chance of slipping past them, or hiding our presence if they should detect us,” Ellyesce said, as he filled an extra pack with food. “It is a good thing you’ll have two master level mages accompanying you.”

  He gave Jahrra a smile, and she wondered if his sudden improved attitude toward Denaeh was for her sake. True, that ice had probably melted a little from around his heart the day he protected the Mystic during the battle of Kahrparyum, but he’d not approached her since, at least from what Jahrra had observed. And now with Jaax gone ... Jahrra bit her cheek hard before those worrisome thoughts started spiraling out of control. She returned Ellyesce’s smile, even if there was no warmth to accompany it, then got back to adding dried meat and cheese to her own pack.

  Not only would they be leaving the semequins behind, but they would have to forgo their armor as well. It would only slow them down and make them stand out among the rocks and shrubs of the lower foothills. Besides, Jahrra wasn’t an imbecile. She knew that if she was lucky enough to make it to the castle alive, the first thing they’d seize would be her weapons and anything else that made her less vulnerable. Her armor would surely be taken as well and that seemed like such a waste. If she left it behind, maybe one of the other warriors who would be fighting on the battlefield could use it. Jahrra did, however, strap her longsword to her side and slip her bow across her back.

  It would take them at least the entire night to reach the outskirts of Vruuthun City, and then, they’d have to get some rest. By then, Jaax would have been in enemy hands for twenty-four hours. Those awful images bubbled up in her mind again, visions of the Red Flange tormenting him the way they had once tortured Hroombra.

  Fear, sharp and relentless, battered at Jahrra’s heart. She did her best to shake it off and turned to head towards the camp stables. She felt the eyes of her fellow soldiers falling upon her as she passed, but she did not look up to acknowledge them. She felt their concern, both for her and the decision which had been left up to her as well. They wondered if she had made the right choice, if she’d let emotion rule her more than logic. Jahrra couldn’t afford to second guess herself. Not now. Not at the beginning of the end of it all.

  Phrym was waiting for her when she approached the fenced-off field, his ears pricked forward, his nostrils flaring. He understood, too, that she was leaving, and it broke her heart knowing this might be the last time she ever saw him. Fighting back tears, she stepped up to the railing and pressed her palm to his nose.

  “You can’t go with me, Phrym. They’ll kill you for sure, and I couldn’t live with that. You have to stay here.”

  He nickered at her, carving the ground with his hoof.

  “He’s not the only one who doesn’t want you marching off to that castle.”

  Jahrra turned to find Dervit standing behind her, his mouth pulled into a tight line of unhappiness, his ears pressed against his head. He had not been to all the meetings over the past few days, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t learned of her plans.

  “I have to, Dervit,” she murmured, turning back to Phrym. “I can’t leave Jaax to the mercy of the Crimson King, whatever mercy he might possess. We all came here to fight this war, putting it off will not make it go away.”

  “I want to come with you.”

  This earned Dervit a sharp look from Jahrra. “No, Dervit. It’s far too dangerous. I need you to stay here and look after Phrym.”

  And make sure nothing happens to him if I don’t come back, she didn’t say out loud.

 
Dervit, in his usual manner, brushed aside her words. “We’ll be going to Vruuthun in the end, anyway,” he pointed out. “I’d rather go with you and Denaeh and Ellyesce. I don’t know anyone here.”

  Jahrra wrinkled her nose at her friend. “You know Dathian, and Haedron, and King Vandrian and his sons. I won’t budge on this, Dervit. I already have too many people to worry about, I don’t need to add you to the list.”

  He opened his mouth to argue, but Jahrra turned around abruptly, cutting him off, “Please. Do this one thing for me. Let me go off to Vruuthun knowing at least one of my closest friends is out of danger.”

  Dervit lowered his eyes, grumbling something under his breath, but nodded in defeat.

  “Very well. I won’t travel with you. But, I won’t be out of danger for long.”

  Jahrra closed her eyes and let her head fall back. “I know, Dervit. But thank you, just the same,” she whispered.

  With a final farewell to Phrym, and a swift hug for Dervit, she headed back to join Ellyesce and Denaeh. The elf and Mystic waited near the edge of the camp, both of them wearing travel cloaks and sporting packs. Jahrra took the extra cloak Denaeh held out. It wasn’t the one Jaax had gifted her, but a rough spun wool cape composed of threads in the dull colors of their surroundings, similar to the ones her friends wore. Even Denaeh had forgone her usual scarlet garb.

  “What, you don’t want them to know you’re a Mystic?” she asked her friend, a sad attempt at light humor as they set forth on their dire task.

  “I thought it prudent to remain anonymous for this particular mission,” the woman replied, giving Jahrra a little smile.

  Jahrra hefted her pack and grimaced at the weight. “What on Ethoes did you put in here, Ellyesce? Rocks?”

  The elf lifted a bemused brow. “No. Extra provisions and plenty of water skins. Denaeh and I will need to consume more food if we are to keep our presence cloaked, mage diamond or not, and then have enough energy to work strong magic once we are in the house of our enemy.”