Fallen Warrior (Fallen Trilogy book 3)

by Williams, Tess

And that was the last thing. And then I vanished and left him there.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  CYRIC:

  Silos had said, those times when we'd talked of what might happen when Ellia came in contact with Kraehe, that it might be enough to drive her mad. He'd said that there was really no telling, but that it couldn't be good.

  I wanted to believe that what had happened last night was to do with that... at the same time, it was the last thing I wanted to believe. What had Ellia and I said between each other about Kraehe? Not enough. I'd meant to talk with her about it before I left. I'd meant to reassure her. I'd meant to stay there with her even, and ride Tosch to battle to make up the time. By the stars, maybe I'd meant to tell her who I was. Leddy's words hadn't worked to deter me; someone knowing, had made it so real, like something possible. And wasn't it me she meant about when she said that the darkness made the stars shine bright?

  Well, ha, if she had. If that was what she had meant, then she should have seen Ellia. I should not have brought up my mother. I'd been right, thinking that she wasn't stable enough to hear about anything; I should have left her be. Now, what? Now, I was in the middle of a battle, and I felt less directed than I ever had in my existence—certainly less directed than I'd expected to feel in this battle that had been coming on for months now. No, coming on, since the day Uldin Keep had been attacked.

  I'd killed, dozens of men, already of course, but I'd hated it. Without Ellia in mind, without knowing that there was a reason for it, this battle, as large as it was, was small. I felt the weight of every death like a murder, with no goodness about it. I couldn't even see her. I was surrounded by Byakoans, and foreigners from the south. I had no horse. It was the opposite of all the battles I'd fought as an Akadian Lieutenant, yet at the same time, that was all around me everywhere. Akadians. Soldiers in red and yellow, and iron.

  My vantage point, told me nothing of the greater battle. I was near the first district, where so many animals had once roamed, and stalls had been set with spoils for sale. Tortoises were around me, looking glossy ashed in the sun; they'd been responsible for taking down the walls. A combination of Vermillion Birds, Chimera, and Wyverns were in the skies about. To tell the rest of the scene, it was easiest to imagine Ellia. Yes, I certainly liked to imagine Ellia, as I'd last seen her happy, in preference to hearing the screams and the clashing swords around me. Knowing Lox was somewhere here, somewhere, closer to me than he'd been since he'd ordered my death.

  We'd been alone, wondrously alone there in the throne room. I didn't even know how, because there were almost always servants roaming about. Maybe because of how late it was. A meeting had gone on long. That open wall to the front of the throne-room, was all black beyond, and windy, like some threatening ocean. But within, somehow those few torches turned the room grey or white instead of golden. She hadn't been able to sleep; neither had I. In fact, I hadn't even tried. I'd stayed there on after the meeting.

  That circular table in the center—with those maps of Akadia I'd drawn, and charts of numbers, names of heads of separate factions, those who would lead what groups—it was all covered in tiny figurines as well. More, even than Shaundakul, and of course more than Akadia. What had Lox had to say about those? the first time I'd gone to a meeting (only an officer then, but hadn't I been special that he'd allowed me in). It had been in his war room, that large one with the dragon tapestry, and red around the walls, and short steps. True commanders, don't need bits of clay to keep in mind their armies. It's all here. And he'd tapped his head.

  From this, I'd decided (what I'd heard had been): He didn't need the bits of clay, because he knew his men for himself. Not like Savras, referring to me with the use of a figurine solider when I was right there standing in front of him. Lox's men were real to him, real enough to keep in mind as he coordinated their purpose.

  What a joke. He'd remembered, because he'd been a power hungry, control hungry, control freak—one who considered men the greatest sort of power. So why would he then forget about them?

  The table, the circular one in this Katellian throne room, it had all sort of figurines. I picked one up. It was a horseman. I trotted it along the length of the first district, pretending, envisioning riding Tosch in preference to going footman. This only entertained me for a moment, then it was too depressing, because I knew it wasn't possible. I picked up a footman. I watched it, then without thinking much about it, I set it right there on the granted mountain. I'd drawn this map bit for myself—and those tunnels beneath it—where the dragon might be; Ellia had "found" it. There were dragon figurines of red and gold, to mark the chimera and vermillion birds, but there were also black ones, to mark the possible wyverns. I picked up one of those. Then I watched it for a moment; then I slammed it down on the granted mountain, just in front the little footman.

  Straight off, I had it shooting fire, making that sort of whooshing sound, then I grabbed the footman, and had him crying for help in that high-pitched voice, then the dragon walked him to the edge of the platform, or table as it were, and it went toppling off, still with the crying. I was just reaching back for the horseman, meaning to have him make a sad sort of neighing, and then I thought, another footman, to portray Silos, to mention something grim and meaningful about how Granted Animals were to be respected—but before I could I heard a step, like a perfect touch of leather to marble.

  I looked up. I saw Ellia there, just coming in, even still reaching round to close one of those side-chamber doors, and not having watched around yet. —Just as she was, just as she was turning her head—her arms wrapped around her, and over a cloak, which she wore over her Warrior's uniform, sans jerkin—I straightened up quick, dropping the figurines. I thought about putting one hand casually to the table, leaning against it, but it was too short, wasn't it. I would have had to bend my knees; that would have looked stupid.

  "Cole?" she said, seeing me. Blinking a few times, then bringing little balled fists up to rub her eyes, as if making sure that she was seeing right.

  "It's me," I replied for her. "I was... there's no one else here," I told her. I couldn't tell why.

  —Oh, I was excited for it, that was why. Excited idiot, saying what he thought. And wouldn't it be nice to think that she would want to hear it too?

  She glanced around, braving to patter one step closer, to peak around the pillars. Her cloak was velvet, a blue one, a gift from Tongon; her Warrior's uniform without the jerkin was just white cloth, a loose, long-sleeved thing. Her hair was braided, hanging over the front of her, her hood wasn't up.

  "Everyone's gone to bed," she followed, then looking at me, her brow pinching and lifting a little, and with her tone exceptionally eloquent, like maybe she spent her nights reverted fully to that high-accent native to our Shaundakul. "Have you been here since the meeting ended?"

  My mind, was still half on the figurines, especially since, the dragon was balancing precariously on the edge of the table. It tipped off and over. I tried not to show a wince, when she glanced for it, but then, there wasn't really a point to that, since I wore a mask. Did I forget, again?

  "That wasn't.... too long ago," I answered. Casually, I dropped to my knees, to grab both the dragon, and the footman. I shoved them both back on the table. I went with my hand there, after all, palm flat, leaning a little.

  "When I left my room. It was three hours past midnight, the candles burnt down to nothing," she replied. Her head tipped to the blackish opening, "Do you mean to stay till it's gone light?"

  "You're here," I countered quickly.

  "What were you doing?" she asked. "Are there really no guards about?" Now, she seemed to have relaxed into the situation, stepping forwards, glancing around again, but keeping a steady pace towards me and the table.

  "I think, it's because of the battle, being so close. Nain would probably prefer his men rested to attack."

  "I've never been in an empty throne-room," she remarked.

  As she said it, my mind jumped back, to that
time, being with Lox, with the ceiling cracking above us, dropping dust. Telling him that I'd known about the Lieutenants, feeling ill in every part of me, realizing that the man I'd followed blindly, was so evil as to let his lover die—let alone hundreds of his allies.

  "Me neither," I replied. "I'm glad they leave the torches."

  "Were you messing about with the table?" Ellia asked, strictly, shifting her hands from around her, just enough to point downwards. "You know it's all set for the meetings. You shouldn't."

  "I..."

  She dropped one brow to me, as if challenging that I should say I wasn't "messing them about" as she'd put it.

  "I was only trying to remember every bit of the battle ahead," I corrected. "It's a lot to hold in mind, isn't it?"

  "Oh, so you were replaying it?" Ellia asked. Suddenly, she'd dropped her hands free, and a light had struck her face, turning the throne-room warmer. "I love, to do such a thing. I've asked Lucian and Baraduce both, whether we might do it in one of the larger meetings. Don't you think it's the best thing for cementing the strategies, to mind—and with so many units involved. May I play it through with you? We could try for practice. We could do well, knowing so much of Lox."

  I heard her, saw her, back in Shaundakul, that first time I'd fought with goblins; she'd dragged me clear out to the old ruins, not having even given me seconds to warm by the fire. And then she'd forced me to retell the whole thing, so that she could then enact it. I remembered her aiming to strike with her mock-sword; I remembered lurching for her wrist, just to keep her from even pretending that evil thing which I had done. But then, at the time, I hadn't thought this, I'd only grabbed to stop her.

  "Of course, you can," I told her. "If you like. With me, I mean..." We hadn't been alone since Genbu. I knew she'd chosen it so, and made it so, repeatedly, day after day.

  She spared me a slitted glance, just enough to show me that she realized the meaning behind my remark (even as I thought now, I shouldn't have said it—excited idiot, saying what he thought). But then she only stepped up to the table, leaning over to grab a figurine. "I shouldn't mind to go through it with anyone. It'll be my favorite thing to do."

  Maybe, then, I wasn't an excited idiot, saying what he thought. For if I had been, at that moment, I would have replied that I shouldn't mind either, since being with her will be my favorite thing to do.

  I shrugged. Then I reached for the dragon again—if only to shift it away from the conspicuous footman and granted mountain.

  "No, not the wyverns first," Ellia chided.

  I watched up at her. With my finger, I gave the dragon a little nudge, just to be safe.

  "Lox has been hiding the goblins, and the wyverns, all this time—if they're even there!—Do you think they'd come out first? Or haven't you been listening to the meetings at all?"

  "I have," I responded. "I know. I only thought it looked cool."

  "Looked cool," Ellia echoed, tisking. "Here you go on, showing how very boyish you are, Cole. Let's be responsible about it. Pretend you actually play a role."

  "As opposed to the nothingness which I do presently."

  "You know what I mean," she sighed. "As if you were a strategist. Like Baraduce, or Lodan."

  She moved to the front of the city, sorting up the Byakoan footmen, and those southern warriors from the force which trained in Yanartas, and the blue stones which marked the Genbuans.

  I thought of being Lodan or Baraduce, in my head. But then, watching her, her cloak fallen down like a shawl now, I decided, "It wouldn't be bad practice to strategize, pretending I was a King. I'd prefer it like that."

  Her eyes came up, large and round, her fingers pausing.

  A very large part of me, wanted to let the words stand. If I were Cyric, they'd be standing for sure. But, hearing my words repeated back in the star chamber in Genbu, knowing I'd already made everything clear, and not wanting to overstress her for the coming battle, I explained, "I mean, in pretending. Who wouldn't rather pretend they were a King, strategizing. Aren't I just boyish like that?"

  I came to the opposite side of her, reaching for the Akadians, clustering them together, some around the front gate, some around the back, that east one. Some at the edges of the empty lake.

  Ellia watched me longer, but only for the chance to see me glance up at her, twice, incredulously, all: what? No, pressure from this Kanthian, why aren't we getting along with the battling yet?

  She eventually conceded, with a press of her lips I could hear. We both then reached, for the leftover Byakoans at the same time—those larger clusters that marked their Tiger's.

  She released a quick breath, shifting her hand away, while I smiled at her.

  "I'll do the chimera," she explained, grabbing for those tiny golden dragons. I moved the Tigers to the east gate. Soon, we had everything in position.

  "Alright, now," Ellia announced, "first the chimera."

  She put the gold figurines (all six which represented roughly that many each, accounting for the thirty-eight Cirali Warriors which there were in all) to the center of the board, right there, smack dab, into the heart of Akadia, maybe a little closer to the south-front, the front gate. But there were red Akadian figurines, all around her—each accounting for a five-hundred, so that there were near eighteen of them, and all spread about, just where our studies (or my experience) had us guessing Lox would divide them.

  "Then the Tortoises, with their catapults here, then the battering ram," she said. But I was frowning. She pushed the blue stones up, while I came around the table, up beside her, just beside, stretching my hand out to the board.

  "See that chimera?" I said, pointing to the one, farther from the Akadian clusters. "That's Luffie."

  "It's meant to be a group of them, Cole."

  "That's the group Luffie's in then," I amended.

  "Oh, ha, I can see what you're telling me, but I'll be right here," She took the chimera, and brought in just beside the front gate, "Just when the Tortoises are coming up to break down the gate—just when the other chimera are meant to come, to help protect them."

  "Then I'll be here," I added, quickly grabbing those greyish footmen, which marked the force from Yanartas—there were five of them for five hundred each. And then two more, darker for the Byakoan footmen; I moved them up to the gate, after the Tortoises, "Just when the tortoises have broken down the door—just when we're all meant to flood the first district."

  "Then I'd be over here, with the rest of the chimera, attacking at the center." She pushed the golden dragons, back into the crowd of Akadians.

  "Then I'll be there too," I added, moving in time, Tortoises, footmen, tigers and all, "when we fight our way further in."

  Ellia looked as if she were about to retort again, about leaving me — probably to the east gate, which by then would be being crossed into by the remainder of Tigers, the Democedians, and the Katellians' horses—all those eastern countries and their men. But instead she snapped a finger, and cursed, "Oh, but we've forgotten the Vermillion Birds. They'll be checking that cavern first, to see if there's weaponry they need to disable." She pushed two of them, there, representing six birds.

  "And they'll be at the gates," I said, helping to break them down. I put one figure, there at both. Unlike the front, they'd be solely responsible for creating a path into that back gate, which doubled as a bridge over the canyon—that one which I'd taken in every night after riding Tosch. It was hardly distinguishable from the outside, but since I knew just where to point it out, I'd included it in those drawings, and Carceron had been confident they could figure how to melt the contraption to use for crossing.

  "And lastly, to help disable the chimera killing weapons, as they did, in Karatel," Ellia added. She moved the last bird to the center.

  She was watching it wistfully so that I wanted to hold her, even though I'd moved across the table. Her words made me think of standing there in the high level of the Akadian palace, hearing about those lead-shooting weapons, and the way t
hey melted in the throats of the chimera for the first time.

  "They'll do a good job of that," I assured.

  Ellia nodded, half distractedly, then she added. "Only, if the wyverns are there, they'll be helping with them as well."

  "We haven't decided whether they'll be there or not," I countered, "right? There's two ways we might go about it? Let's leave them out for this practice." Ellia gave an indifferent shrug, moving on to shifting the eastern armies, through the back gate, flooding into the stable district.

  I'd said this really, not because I didn't think the goblins wouldn't be there—as was undetermined by the Warriors thus far—but because I had some plans of talking to Ellia. Trying to convince her, without giving myself away, how plausible it was that the goblins could be bribed. I'd already spoken with the Ghaundians about it; hinting, and they agreed. They'd likely bring it up around the same time as me— so I wouldn't be so suspicious. I just wanted to make sure, above all, that Ellia would trust it, that they'd do it, even if it meant giving my identity away. Really I wished, that I had some flying granted animal myself, someone to get up to Garagos and flag him down. He and I could have a nice old chat. He'd told me more times than I could count, how he'd considered me the Akadian with the power—at least those months in Ghaund. And I could hype him up with all those things I'd heard in Genbu. Goblin King Garagos, a king you might be—oh, and here's some gold. He'd ditch Akadia so fast, Lox's head would spin — and the wyverns along with him. I was still confident, completely confident, that they would leave for bribery; only I wouldn't get to see to Garagos myself. That was alright. I had my own business to take care of, other things to see to.

  "Lox will be here, directing from his war room," Ellia mentioned, tapping that building that sat against the red rock wall of the training caverns.

  "Likely," I corrected. From our "studies" we'd decided this. Really, I'd just known it. Or, as I told her, likely knew it. It really was an advantage after all, that Lox thought I was dead, or else we wouldn't be able to use so much of what I knew. Still, he hadn't been sure how much we'd questioned Scanth (in truth, he'd died in the battle). So he'd have to switch things around to some degree, just to counter that.