The Glass Throne (Legends of Ansu Book 4)

by JW Webb

  “I thought you were dead.” He struggled to rise, but his body ached so much he fell forward on his face.

  “Almost I was, and it pains me that I owe my Father the debt of saving me and yourself alike—because he always has a price.”

  “Your father is the Wanderer?”

  “The same. You are alone now Corin, I cannot aid you here. But at least you are free from her clutches. I suggest you go seek warmth in a cave and rest up a while.”

  “Must you leave me?” Corin felt a sudden urge to hold this woman close. Vervandi, his first love, the mystery woman who had saved him from self-destruction after losing his kin. He had learnt not to trust her, but his heart cried out for her now.

  She read his thoughts and smiled. “Would that I could, but then, I thought you loved another? Besides, I must depart—I am much weakened by my encounter with Undeyna.”

  “The wood-witch—she said her name was Maife?” Dimly Corin remembered that. “Is she slain?”

  “Even my Father lacks the mandate to slay Undeyna. Maife was once a cousin of mine, but the Shadowman stole her soul and she serves Him now. Her punishment for that betrayal was to be fenced inside that grim wood until the end of time. You were warned to stay clear, Corin—lucky are you we were in the area.”

  Vervandi stood briskly and tossed Clouter to the snow at Corin’s feet. “Take your sword and go forth before night brings fresh dangers. We are still close to Darkvale; neither of us should tarry here. She cannot leave that forest but there are Dark Faen hereabouts who will hunt you in her name.”

  “Who is my father, Vervandi?” Corin felt a sudden wash of shame flushing through his veins. He had forgotten Shallan and now was filled with urgent purpose to resume his journey north. But the Wanderer’s words still echoed in his head. Past time that riddle was solved. Feeling stronger, Corin rolled to his feet and seized Clouter with both fists, feeling power to hold the sword again.

  “He is close.” Vervandi smiled and turned away. “I can say no more. Farewell beloved!”

  “Where am I?” Corin yelled at her departing shadow.

  “You are on The Wild Way. North lies Point Keep and Car Carranis and the woman that you think you love.” Vervandi’s slender form faded from view behind a rock. Corin rushed to follow her but she had vanished in the sunlight. Instead, he gazed down at a wide sloping side of The High Wall. Far below and to the south a distant threatening gloom hinted where Darkvale lay. Aside that, the bright day fell on glistening snow and flanking mountains marching shoulder over shoulder. Corin shook movement into his limbs. He stretched his muscles, pushing off against the rock, feeling stronger than he had any right to. It was only then that he recalled how he’d broken his arm after falling from Thunderhoof’s back. Corin stared at the arm and tested it in wonder. Had that been a dream too? Enough thinking; he needed to get going whilst the day allowed progress and warmth.

  Corin strode along The Wild Way, not stopping until dusk, when mercifully he found a cave and took much needed rest. Corin was beyond exhausted, and he couldn’t begin to comprehend what had just happened to him.

  He knew that a madness had come upon him after seeing Belmarius’s corpse swaying in the wind. After that, he recalled little save hearing Olen’s anxious shouts and Thunderhoof’s whinny of pain as he threw Corin from his back. “Poor Thunder,” Corin muttered as he struggled to light a kindling fire. “You were a grand old lad. I’m so sorry.”

  Corin felt the tears well up in his eyes as he thought of his great warhorse slain. He’d lost his friends and his horse, but at least he had his life. Whatever that was worth. But Shallan waited. He would cling on to that thought. She waited in that fortress, and he would come. He had survived something he didn’t understand. That meant they needed him—the Wanderer and His team. That was no small comfort in this lonely place. Sure, they’d play him to their tunes, but they needed him alive. And as long as Corin still drew breath then he would find Shallan, and together they would carve out a life in this crazy dangerous world called Ansu.

  And he did love her, despite what Vervandi had said. With that last determined thought, Corin’s eyes closed and he sank into a deep and mercifully dreamless sleep. Which was just as well, because when he woke the cold press of steel was hard against his neck.

  Chapter 18

  Reunion

  Teret called out a warning as the archer’s head appeared from the bushes ahead. “Ambush!” she yelled as Tamersane ducked in his saddle, feeling the whoosh of the arrow racing close above his head.

  Shouts followed, and Tamersane, yelling and swearing and flapping his arms about, wheeled his horse around, and commenced galloping frantically back down to where she waited tense astride her own saddle.

  “Outlaws!” Tamersane hollered in her ear as his horse thundered past hers.

  “Yes, I noticed.” Teret crinkled her nose and briskly urged her beast follow Tamersane’s.

  They had been traversing The Wild Way for two days and had seen nothing living save one hungry-looking fox and a brace of squawking quail running and jumping ahead of them. It had snowed heavily most of the time and they had made slow progress, but Tamersane had taken cheer when he recognised a part of the ancient track.

  Here the land fell away to the right, awarding deep views of the snow-clad slopes and timberline now far below them. Beyond and behind them in the far distance, they could just make out the neat white folds of Rorshai fields miles away.

  “I’ve been here before,” he’d told her. “The road splits several miles ahead, the left fork dropping down steep to Wynais. It’s a difficult descent, but at least we’ll have sanctuary when we get there.”

  Instead what they got was an ambush.

  A half-mile down from where Teret had spotted the archer they ran into more trouble. A dozen armed men with spears were blocking their way ahead.

  “What the fuck?” Tamersane screwed his eyes against the glare of bright sun on snow. “These look like Raleenian Lancers out of Atarios, I’d recognise those outfits anywhere!”

  “What are they doing up here?” Teret slipped a knife into her left hand and made ready, lest any man try hurting her lover. Other soldiers sprang out from the walls mounting either side of The Wild Way and joined those already blocking the road south.

  “Buggered if I know.” Tamersane smiled at Teret as they reined in and waited, which was their only choice as there was nowhere to go. “Don’t worrit, sweetling—I shall handle this!” He grinned at her and Teret gripped the knife even tighter in her fist. A rider appeared behind the last lot of lancers and casually guided his horse through their cluster. He was garbed in heavy cloak with a deep hood hiding his features.

  “Hello there!” Tamersane raised his palm and grinned. “All friends here!”

  “Of all the bloody hazards in this wilderness, I never expected to encounter you, Tamersane of Wynais.” A rough chuckle followed, and the rider reined in to stare at them from several yards distant.

  “I know this man.” The horseman bid the Raleenians relax their guard behind him. “He is cousin to Queen Ariane herself, though what he’s doing up here with this Rorshai wench is beyond baffling.”

  “Show your face and quit smirking!” Tamersane didn’t like this stranger calling Teret a Rorshai wench. “This is the Lady Teret, formerly of Morning Hills. She is daughter to the Tcunkai Kaan—though the poor chap’s dead now.”

  Another chuckle, and the rider pushed his hood back allowing the sunlight to fall on his face. Tamersane nearly fell from his horse recognising the hard tanned features and white-cropped hair of Silon of Port Sarfe.

  “Oh, it’s you!” Tamersane struggled to disguise his relief. Instead he blinked in the sun and tried not to look smug. “Well, if it’s strange us being up here then what about you lot? It’s a long way to Raleen. This merchant hails from Port Sarfe,” Tamersane muttered to Teret who was looking both bemused and angry. “He is a friend and ally to our cause.”

  “A friend?” Teret
glared at Silon and the surrounding Raleenians, not forgetting the arrow near Tamersane’s head, and waved her dagger at them. Silon laughed and some of the spearmen chuckled. Teret hissed at them.

  “Looks like you’ve found a lass who can handle you at last,” Silon remarked. “Come on Kelwynian, bring your Rorshai lady, and we’ll escort you to Herself.”

  “Who is Herself?” Teret’s frown deepened. “Is there something I need to know?” Tamersane blinked at her.

  “Queen Ariane of Kelwyn of course—she’ll be most excited to see her wayward cousin.” Silon rode forward and clasped Tamersane’s arm. “Glad you’re still alive laddie. Come on!”

  They rode behind the merchant, who waved back the archers, these now appearing in their dozens from either side of the road. “You expecting company?” Tamersane asked Silon, who shrugged.

  “It’s a long story. I’ll let Ariane explain.”

  They found the queen sitting on a rock drinking hot tea with a group of people gathered close. Tamersane grinned when he recognised Cale and Galed among the group. There were several Raleenians present and the rest were clearly from Kelwyn. Beyond where they sat and stood talking, a great number of soldiers lurked moody by horses, watching and talking amongst themselves.

  Tamersane was amazed to see what appeared to be well over a hundred fighting men gathered either side of the place where The Wild Way forked and a second track wound left into rocks.

  Ariane looked up as Silon rode into her rudimentary camp; as she glanced Tamersane she leapt to her feet, smiling and spilling tea.

  “Cousin? Is it really you?” Teret watched taut-faced as Tamersane swung his legs free of his saddle and sprang across to embrace the young queen. Ariane was dressed in tight black leather trousers and long-sleeved navy tunic, topped with a white fur collar and cuffs. She wore a tawny wolf cloak, and from her pearl-studded belt hung two swords.

  Teret waited in frosty silence as her lover and his queen kissed and hugged, a business that went on far too long in her opinion, despite Tamersane’s earlier insistence that this dark-haired beauty was just a cousin.

  “Doesn’t it make you want to smile?” the man called Silon said beside her. Teret noticed the diamond in his left ear for the first time.

  “No,” she answered. “It doesn’t.”

  “Tell me everything! Where is Corin? What happened to your hand?” Ariane fired questions at Tamersane as he sat on a tree stump a piping cup of tea clasped in his chapped hands. By his side, the woman Teret looked uncomfortable and edgy.

  Ariane had smiled at her and bade her join them, but the Rorshai woman had only done so reluctantly and now chose to wear an aloof, disinterested expression, which Ariane could not help but find amusing.

  “And who is she?” Ariane whispered in Tamersane’s ear when Teret was looking the other way. Silon alone persisted in talking to the Rorshai healer woman, who for her part nodded a few times and responded in curt fashion to his advances.

  Tamersane whispered back that this was the late Tcunkai Kaan’s daughter, Teret, and explained how she had healed him from a nasty wound given to him by Corin an Fol. “An accident.” Tamersane had waved a hand spilling tea. “I thought he was a Groil and attacked him.”

  “That was rather silly of you.” Ariane had heard from Zallerak (whom, she’d informed Tamersane, was present somewhere) about the dragon’s visit upon Fallowheld. “You were lucky to escape. But where is Corin?”

  “He’s with Belmarius, or else making that way; he has a bunch of Rorshai warriors with him—none of them seem to get on. They were going to some meeting at a place called the Delve, and then on to join Belmarius and make north for Car Carranis.”

  “And Shallan.” Ariane smiled into her tea.

  “I believe that’s what drives him—yes.”

  Ariane took a long hard sip at her tea and placed the mug on the ground at her feet. “I do hope that Corin is not with Belmarius,” she said in a quieter voice.

  “Why is that?” Tamersane studied his cousin’s dark eyes. Ariane’s face was thinner than he’d last seen it when they had parted on the road near Vioyamis, well over a month ago.

  “Because General Belmarius is dead.” Tamersane’s jaw dropped, and Teret, who had been listening despite pretending otherwise, turned to stare in disbelief at the queen’s words.

  “We came upon some of his men just yesterday, or rather some scouts I sent north did. They escorted them back here and I interviewed them. They are in a poor state, confused and very scared and unsure what happened to them. Zallerak believes they got entangled in Darkvale forest, so they are beyond lucky to be alive.

  “Anyway, one of them had wits enough to inform us that Belmarius’s camp was attacked at night by a large force of warriors they had never encountered before. Easterners he assumed—they wore chains from their helmets so they never got to see any faces.”

  “Ptarnians,” said Tamersane and to his right Silon nodded agreement. “Teret’s brother warned of an army approaching from the steppes. That must be them.”

  “Even so,” the queen rubbed cold from her hands. “This man saw Belmarius fall to their pikes and spears. Soon after that, those Bears that could broke camp and fled with the remaining Ptarnians hard on their heels. After that, his account of things got confused so I let him rest with his fellows, who are sleeping in one of the spare tents. As I said they are in poor shape.”

  “What of my brother and the Tcunkai?” Teret’s blue eyes bored into Ariane. “They rode out with this Corin you all speak of—this Longswordsman.”

  “The Kelthaine warrior from those Bears I spoke to never mentioned your people, so I assume they are still looking for Belmarius. Poor Corin, he will be devastated when he discovers the truth.”

  “That won’t stop him,” Silon said. “And now Tamersane—let’s hear your story and then we will tell you why Queen Ariane’s entire army is up here freezing in the mountains.”

  “That would be good to know.” Tamersane turned to where Teret watched him, her face dark and unsure as evening fell suddenly upon them. “I owe everything to this lady,” he told them, and began to relate the story from when he and Corin fled Fallowheld, their encounter with the weird Feroda, the journey through the mountains and the creatures that followed, and then the Rorshai and Rogan taking him to Morning Hills where he was healed by Teret and introduced to the Kaan. Last up, he spoke of the treacherous raid by the Anchai brigand, Sulo.

  After Tamersane had finished his account, Ariane reached across and touched Teret’s arm. “It seems I owe you a great deal. I’m fond of my cousin, though he has driven me to madness at times—him and his brother.” Teret managed a stiff smile. “He is a good man.”

  “That he is, and now he has a good woman, and I for one am heartened to see that. Teret of the Tcunkai, you are most welcome here amongst the free army of Wynais.”

  In the bitter cold of that mountain night, Tamersane heard all about the war west of the mountains. Zallerak had joined them from some peruse he’d been taking, and Cale and Galed too. Cale was desperate to question Tamersane about Corin’s whereabouts but got little joy from his answers. When the campfires were lit and food appeared, Prince Tarin emerged from a tent and sat beside them too. He said little and looked pale and thin.

  “So Perani followed you into the mountains? I thought he was known for being cautious?” Tamersane chewed into a tough chunk of dried beef and crackly fat. Teret, beside him, was looking at Zallerak as though he were a serpent about to bite her. She had never encountered such a one before. For his part, Zallerak seemed out of sorts and hardly noticed her hostile surveillance. Nor did he contribute much to the current conversation.

  “We dented his pride,” Silon said. “I was late arriving at Greystone Bridge as I had other business to attend. But Zallerak and the queen and I had liaised via bird. I got there just before dawn, saw the carnage on the bridge, and watched as morning unfolded and Perani led his army into Raleen.

  “I notified
Zallerak and he deemed it shrewd to return and place more explosives, taking the entire bridge down and trapping Perani’s army south of the river, lest he choose to return that way.”

  “Where is he now?” Tamersane couldn’t believe that Perani had dragged his vast army up into the mountains.

  “He’s on our tail. We’ve encountered several scouts; hence your ambush.” Silon smiled slightly. “But I almost feel sorry for Perani. He screwed up at Greystone Bridge and now has committed Caswallon’s entire army to struggling behind us along The Wild Way. Had he kept his temper and ridden back north and re-entered Wynais, we would have been trapped up here in winter. Instead he’s played into out hands, and Caswallon will know that by now. Perani’s future looks fragile. Shame—he was once a good man before the darkness claimed him.”

  Earlier, Tamersane had heard how Wynais had been betrayed from within and that the traitor now ruled as Caswallon’s puppet. “Who is this bastard?” Tamersane had asked, though no one had responded.

  “So we have been playing cat and mouse in the snow,” Ariane told him. “Keeping just ahead of Perani’s army, and yet close enough to see what they are up to.”

  “What about Wynais?” Tamersane yawned and winked at Teret, who was wrapped in the deep folds of a borrowed fur coat. “Soon be bedtime—eh, love?” he whispered. Close by, Cale giggled as if he’d said something funny and Tamersane awarded the lad a quizzical glance.

  “We have people working on that.” Ariane smiled and informed Tamersane of Valentin’s mission to get inside the city walls. “Hopefully, we will be welcomed home on our arrival and can slam the gate shut in Perani’s face.”

  ***

  Captain Gonfalez shook snow from his gauntlets and held the letter up to the light. His man had just delivered it to his tent under the cover of darkness. It bore Caswallon’s seal and he was shaking with excitement as he cut through it. The words read thus:

  Captain Gonfalez,