“You ought to sit down. You look tired,” said a woman’s familiar voice, colored with an archaic accent.
Calliande turned and saw a weathered log resting on the stony ground a few yards away. Morigna sat at one end of the log, her carved staff tucked between her legs, her black hair and her tattered cloak stirring in the chill breeze.
Morigna saw her, smirked, and patted the other side of the log.
“Truly,” said Morigna. “One thinks you could use a rest. You can hardly expect Ridmark to be overcome with ardor when you are too exhausted to respond to his advances.”
Calliande sighed, but lifted the end of her cloak and sat next to Morigna on the log.
“You know,” said Calliande, “if this is a dream, why don’t you dream up a comfortable chair with a lot of cushions instead of a log?”
Morigna shrugged. “It is your dream, Keeper of Andomhaim, not mine. It is constructed out of your memories.”
Calliande sighed again. “I think I removed my memory of this place.”
“Truly?” said Morigna with a frown. “You recovered almost all of your memories from Dragonfall, but you cut out your memories of this place and the Tower of the Keeper?”
“So it would seem,” said Calliande.
“Why?”
“If I knew that,” said Calliande with some annoyance, “then I would be able to tell you what this place is.”
“I see,” said Morigna. “One observes that you have a penchant for outwitting yourself.”
Calliande frowned, picked up a smooth stone from the ground, and tossed it into the lake with a splash.
“I wish I could refute you,” said Calliande.
“If you do not know why you removed those memories, then why do you suspect that you removed them?” said Morigna.
“Because they were dangerous,” said Calliande. “That was why I removed my memory when I went to sleep beneath the Tower of Vigilance. If Shadowbearer captured me, he would have been able to find the Keeper’s staff and hide it away so it couldn’t be used against him. The memory of this place and the Tower of the Keeper must be dangerous as well.”
“To whom?” said Morigna. “To Shadowbearer? Or to you?”
“Why would it be dangerous to me?” said Calliande.
“Or to someone you care about,” said Morigna.
“Ridmark?” said Calliande. “The memory is dangerous to Ridmark?”
“He can hear the heartbeat, can he not?” said Morigna. “It is calling to him. I fear that it has chosen him. And it is going to destroy him if it can.”
“What do you mean?” said Calliande. “If Ridmark is in danger, then tell me plainly what is happening.”
“You know I cannot,” said Morigna. “The laws of the mortal world do not permit it. You are living and bound by time. I am dead and therefore somewhat less under time’s authority. But I will tell you this. You are going to have to save Ridmark.”
“From what?” said Calliande.
“Mostly from himself,” said Morigna. “The heartbeat is calling to him, and if you are not there to stop him, he will use it to destroy himself.”
“I don’t understand,” said Calliande. “Please, for Ridmark’s sake if not for mine, tell me more.”
“Be ready,” said Morigna. “You will need to save Ridmark, but first he will need to save you. If he can.”
Calliande started to ask another question, but the dream dissolved into mist.
She awoke when Antenora touched her shoulder, and sat up at once. The maze of spells still burned with purple fire, but the eastern sky was starting to brighten with dim light.
“Keeper,” said Antenora.
“What is it?” said Calliande, scrambling to her feet as she grabbed her staff. Had Tarrabus launched an attack? Had Soulbreaker been spotted?
“Ridmark’s come back,” said Gavin. “He and the Prince are coming to talk to you. Sir Corbanic’s going to help us…but it seems that Tarrabus has reinforcements on the way.”
Chapter 16: Contravallation
Getting out of the harbor proved easier than Ridmark expected.
Otto set them on a course that hugged the edge of the harbor wall. Once they headed into open water, Otto guided the boat along a line a few dozen yards from the base of the wall. They would be far enough from the wall that their silhouette would not be visible against the pale stone. If need be, they could flee towards Prince Cadwall’s ships, but that might provoke the ships of Dux Verus and Dux Timon to attack, and that could cause the battle to begin then and there.
Yet either by Otto’s skill, the will of God, simple luck, or a combination of all three, no one noticed them.
Soon they passed the blockade, and as the moons dipped below the horizon and the sky started to brighten to the east, Ridmark rowed them up the river. The current was strong, even close to the bank, and it took a great deal of effort to keep the boat moving forward. Ridmark remembered that before his exile, his father had given Tormark the task of dealing with Taliand’s merchants and traders, and Tormark had constantly complained how difficult it was to find rowers able to make the journey from Tarlion to Castra Arban.
As Ridmark forced the boat up the river, he was beginning to understand the reason for that difficulty.
Yet soon he reached the quays of Arandar’s camp, and one of the watchmen threw down a mooring line. Otto tied it to the boat, and they climbed onto the quay.
“That’s harder than it looks,” said Ridmark. He rolled his aching shoulders and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
“Aye,” said Otto. “You’ve many virtues, Gray Knight, but I suggest you stay in the business of war. You would make a terrible smuggler.”
“Agreed,” said Ridmark. “Thank you for your help.”
Otto snorted. “Don’t thank me, thank Sir Joram. He’s the one who’s going to pay me.” He started to go, paused, and looked back at Ridmark. “But on my first visit to Tarlion I walked into the Chamber of the Well, eh? Not many men, human or halfling, get to say that.”
“If you tell that story right,” said Ridmark, “you’ll have people buying you free drinks for years.”
Otto laughed and walked off.
“An unusual man,” said Third.
“I heard that!” shouted Otto back.
“With unusually sharp hearing for his age,” said Third, unruffled.
“A useful skill for a smuggler, I imagine,” said Ridmark. “Let’s find Arandar and Calliande. They need to hear what we have learned.”
###
Arandar stood atop Calliande’s hill with the Duxi and his other chief nobles and listened to Ridmark’s news.
Nearby the maze of symbols blazed with purple fire and twisting patterns, the symbols sliding around each other almost like the tumblers of a lock. Truth be told, the sight of it made Arandar uneasy. He had never liked magic, and he liked relying upon it even less. Still, if anyone had to wield the power of magic, he was glad it was Calliande. The Keeper had proven herself again and again in a score of battles, and Arandar understood why the laws of Andomhaim had once permitted only the Keeper to wield magic within the realm.
But for now, Ridmark’s news held his full attention.
“You’re sure of this?” said Arandar once Ridmark had finished.
“Sir Corbanic seemed certain,” said Ridmark.
“Then is seems our guess was correct,” said Gareth Licinius. “Tarlion is about to run out of food.”
“It’s the horsemen from Arduran that have me concerned,” said Prince Cadwall.
“Aye,” said Dux Kors, and he spat. “It’s just like that weasel Dux Timon to have a trick up his sleeve.”
“If those three thousand horsemen attack us from behind while we are assaulting Tarrabus’s camp,” said Dux Leogrance, “the results could be catastrophic.”
“Yes,” said Arandar, thinking of his younger days as a Decurion of men-at-arms in service to Dux Kors, of chasing Mhorite warbands around the hills of Durandis and Kothluu
sk. He had learned quickly that an army was vulnerable when besieging a strong point, and one of the favorite tactics of the men of Durandis was to attack the Mhorites when they were assaulting a fortified village. Catching an army against the walls of a fortified place was putting them between the anvil and the hammer.
If Arandar was not careful, his own siege wall would become an anvil, and the horsemen coming from the east would serve as the hammer.
And his army might be smashed to pieces against it.
“Can we confirm this report?” said Prince Cadwall.
“Not yet,” said Arandar. “Scouts have been sent to the east, but they have not yet returned. If those horsemen are moving at speed, they might overtake our scouts before they can rejoin us.”
A peculiar sense of foreboding closed around Arandar. Too many things were in motion, and he sensed that today would be the crisis point. That meant his decisions today would determine whether tens of thousands of men lived or died.
Whether he himself would live or die.
So be it. Arandar had not yet flinched from his duties, and he would not start now.
“My lords,” said Arandar, “I think it is wise to assume the worst. These horsemen are coming, and they will likely arrive as we attack Tarrabus’s camp. The only question is how we shall respond to this new threat.”
“Perhaps we can march to face these newcomers in battle, defeat them, and return to deal with Tarrabus,” said Sebastian.
“I would not advise that, my lord Dux,” said Ridmark. “From what Sir Corbanic said and what I have seen in Tarlion, the city’s morale hangs on a thread. Even now, Sir Corbanic is preparing his men to attack. If they see us depart for any reason, they will think they have been abandoned. If Tarrabus then assaults the walls, the city’s defense might collapse.”
“We cannot leave these horsemen unchecked behind us,” said Gareth. “If they attack during the battle, it will mean disaster.”
“Perhaps there is another way,” said Prince Cadwall. “Our own horsemen will be of little use in the coming battle. They cannot move freely in the confined space between the siege walls. My lords, I propose that we send our own horsemen to deal with Tarrabus’s reinforcements while our footmen and the orcish warriors assault the siege walls once the Keeper has opened the breach.”
“How many horsemen do we have now?” said Arandar, though he already knew the answer.
“About five and a half thousand,” said Sir Joram. “Knights and mounted men-at-arms.” He would know. Keeping such a large number of horses fed and maintained had been a tremendous logistical challenge.
“Splitting our force in the face of the enemy is a dangerous risk,” said Leogrance. “Our horsemen would let us respond quickly to any new threats. If we send them away, we will lose the ability.”
“This is true, my lord Dux,” said Calliande. She looked weary, with dark circles under her eyes. Arandar could not imagine the kind of effort that had gone into preparing the great spell that now burned in the air behind them. “But a new threat is riding towards us right now. I suggest that the horsemen are the best available resource to meet that threat.”
“Yes,” said Arandar. He came to a decision. “I think that the Prince and the Keeper are correct. We…”
“My lord Prince! My lord Dux! Dux Sebastian!”
Arandar turned, his hand twitching toward Heartwarden’s hilt on reflex, and saw a man in the colors of the House of the Aurelii running towards them. The man-at-arms dropped to one knee before Arandar.
“What is it, man?” said Dux Sebastian. “Speak!”
“The scouts we sent out have returned,” said the man-at-arms. “A large force in the colors of Arduran and Dux Timon is moving west along the coast road in great haste. We counted three or four thousand knights and heavy horsemen escorting a caravan of supplies. They are only six or seven miles away at the most, and will arrive within the hour.”
“It seems the decision has been made for us,” said Leogrance.
“It has,” said Calliande, her voice tight. “The dvargir spyglasses will have spotted them by now.”
“Aye,” said Arandar. “We must hurry. Prince Cadwall! We shall follow your plan. I give you command of the horsemen of the army. Have them gather at the northeast corner of the siege wall. King Ulakhamar, King Zhorlaskur, King Malhask, and Master Marhand! The orcish warriors of the baptized kingdoms and the Swordbearers shall lead the assault through the walls.” King Ulakhamar nodded and smiled, young King Zhorlaskur thumped a fist against his chest, while Silent Malhask only nodded. “Keeper, prepare to cast your spell. As soon as the horsemen depart, you shall work your spell and we shall attack through the siege wall.”
“Then we stake everything upon a single throw of the dice,” said Leogrance.
“Yes,” said Arandar. “I fear we have no choice in the matter. The arrival of Tarrabus’s reinforcements has brought the siege to a crisis. Either we shall win all this day, or we shall lose everything.” For a moment, he rebuked himself, wondering how he had been brought to a point where he had no choice but to stake the future of the entire realm on a single battle. Could he have done something differently? Could he have made better choices? Arandar pushed aside the thoughts. Now was not the time for doubts.
He only wished he could have seen his children one last time.
“So be it, my lord Prince,” said Leogrance. “If this must be done, then let us do it well.”
Dux Kors snorted. “There’s a fine battle cry.”
Prince Cadwall smiled. “It’s what Dux Leogrance always says right before he wins at dice. Hopefully, it is a good sign.”
“My lords, you know what must be done,” said Arandar. “I will raise my banner here, with the Keeper, and remain with the Swordbearers and Magistri of her guard. Her spell is the key to this victory, and if Soulbreaker comes for her again, we will be ready for the creature.”
The lords and knights hastened to their horses. A moment later the first of the signal horns rose over the camps as the host prepared itself to march.
###
“Ridmark,” said Calliande.
“Aye?” he said.
Ridmark intended to remain here to help guard her against from Soulbreaker. As Arandar had said, Calliande and her spells were the keys to the coming battle. If Tarrabus or Soulbreaker realized what she intended to do, they might fall upon her with all their fury.
If that happened, he intended to keep her safe, whatever the cost.
She met his eye. “I think…I think you should ride with Prince Cadwall against Tarrabus’s reinforcements.”
Ridmark frowned. “Why?” Did she think to keep him safe? Prince Cadwall would have more men than the reinforcements, but the battle there would be no safer.
“Because something is wrong,” said Calliande.
He started to ask, but she kept speaking.
“Tarrabus has some trick for us, I’m sure of it,” said Calliande. “Some trap, some stratagem. Do you remember Dun Calpurnia? Uthanaric and his lords were so certain they were going to win the battle. They would have been victorious, but Tarrabus abandoned them on the field to die and sent the Weaver to kill Uthanaric.”
“He can’t do that now,” said Ridmark.
“No,” said Calliande. “He can send Soulbreaker. Ridmark, listen. Please.” There was dread in her face. “This is irrational, I know…but these feels just like Dun Calpurnia. We know Tarrabus isn’t a very good ruler or a very good commander. But he is a brilliant schemer, and I fear we are blundering into another of his schemes right now.”
“Instinct isn’t irrational when you’re the Keeper of Andomhaim,” said Ridmark.
She smiled a little. “That is my concern.”
“Then I’ll go,” said Ridmark. “I’ll take Third and Kharlacht and Caius and ride with Prince Cadwall. If Tarrabus has a trap for us, we’ll find it and turn it against him.”
“Take Camorak with you,” said Calliande. “He can help heal wounds, and he w
as a man-at-arms in Dux Kors’ service for years. He’ll know how to fight from the saddle. And take Antenora with you as well.”
Next to Calliande, Antenora stirred in her dark coat. “My place is at your side, Keeper.”
“It is,” said Calliande, “and I am loath to be without your help. But I think Prince Cadwall needs your help more than I will. If there are Enlightened among the reinforcements, a few blasts of elemental fire might discourage them.”
“Should I go with Antenora?” said Gavin.
“No,” said Ridmark before the Swordbearer could answer. “You have a soulblade, and as far as we know a soulblade is the only thing that can permanently harm Soulbreaker. If the Deep Walker comes for Calliande again, I would like you here to defend her. I know you usually go into battle alongside Antenora, but she can defend herself better than most of us can.”
For some reason, Gavin’s face colored a little at that. Anger? No, embarrassment. “I…yes, you’re right. I will stay here and defend the Keeper in Antenora’s stead.”
“Thank you, Gavin Swordbearer,” said Antenora.
“Keeper,” called Arandar. “The time is upon us.”
Calliande nodded and looked at Ridmark. “I have to finish the spell. I…”
She trailed off.
There were a dozen things Ridmark wanted to say to her. He wanted to tell her that he loved her. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to say that he wished they had been able to find some time alone together before the battle started. But she was the Keeper of Andomhaim, and he would not embarrass her in front of the lords of the realm.
“I will see you soon,” he said at last.
She managed a smile. “You will return with your shield, or upon it, as the Spartans said upon Old Earth?”
Frostborn: Excalibur (Frostborn #13) Page 21