“Why not?”
“He wasn’t afraid of the sun. The men said he was ruthless, quick, and deadly, but he was able to train men under the full midday sun. How could a vampire do that?”
“With magic,” Will declared.
“He wasn’t a sorcerer, or even a wizard.”
Will bristled inwardly at the phrasing but he didn’t bother trying to educate the man. Lionell had a point, though. If the vampire had been a wizard of some sort, he wouldn’t have engaged Will the way he had, nor would he have died as easily. “Did he have a companion?”
“His wife.”
He interrogated the Darrowan commander for another fifteen minutes before dismissing the man so he could be transported to Barrowden. He got enough information to locate the ‘wife,’ but after sending several squads and an exhaustive search, it was discovered that the woman had disappeared sometime after the battle, which was pretty much what Will had expected.
Will busied himself with his other duties for the rest of the day, then returned to his tent. Lieutenant Renly was waiting on him. “Have you inspected the quarters within Klendon yet, sir?”
“No, why should I? We won’t be staying there,” said Will somewhat sourly as he removed his boots and massaged his sore feet.
“We could have for the last few days at least,” whined Renly under his breath.
Will pretended not to hear. “I’m going to install Commander Bradshaw in Klendon anyway. He and Fourth Division will be handling logistics and protecting our supply chain so Klendon is the perfect location for him to operate from.”
“An entire division? That’s one-sixth our force, sir.”
“I’m familiar with fractions, Lieutenant,” Will snapped. “The supply lines are absolutely essential. They’re the easiest way for the Patriarch to stop our advance. That’s why I risked so much to take Klendon.”
Renly pursed his lips, clearly irritated at the lecture but not daring to show it. He returned to his original question. “You should still inspect the captain’s quarters in Klendon before we march.”
Will raised one brow. “Why?”
“There might be some vital intelligence to be found.”
“It’s been thoroughly searched already. I don’t see what more I could add to that,” said Will, but then he paused. There had been a notable lack of letters and other paper records in Lionell Durant’s office and personal quarters. Will had assumed they were burned or otherwise destroyed, but what if that wasn’t really the case?
Then again, I’m the Royal Marshal. I can’t be expected to do everything myself, he thought, repeating his original reasoning for not taking a personal hand in the previous searches. Will chewed his lip. He also knew he had advantages when it came to his senses. It was entirely possible he would find something the others had missed—and he had no further plans that evening.
With a sigh, he began tugging his boots back on.
Chapter 32
Captain Commander Durant’s personal quarters were modest and sparsely decorated, as befitted a military commander, at least in Will’s opinion. The room had been thoroughly tossed already, but someone had carefully put everything back in its place in preparation for whoever would take up residence there. Dozens of people had been in and out, and every item had been moved and examined.
Will wandered around the room, wondering what he could possibly find after a week had gone by. There were two excellent paintings, which he studied with some interest, but neither told him anything. He lifted them away from the wall and looked behind them, just to be sure, but he was certain that others had already done the same. He found nothing.
He moved the furniture around and examined the walls, floors, and even the ceiling—all things he was sure that others had done before him, but he did it anyway. He carefully increased his visual turyn sensitivity so he could even the faintest magical traces, but still found nothing. That would have been more effective right after the battle, though, he admitted silently. After a week it’s unlikely there would be anything left to find, unless there’s an active ward or other enchantment.
The walls were stone, so tapping on them to try and find voids wasn’t very helpful, though Will tried that too. But if the surface is thick enough, I won’t be able to hear a difference, he thought.
The last thing he tried before giving up was adjusting his vision through different parts of the light spectrum. The world looked very different depending on what you used to see it. In heart-light, the room was dull and relatively featureless, almost monotone, with different types of light it varied more, but nothing special stood out to him.
Eventually he switched to the strangest and most difficult type of vision. He didn’t have a name for it, but he thought of it as the opposite of heart-light. Heart-light lay beyond the deepest reds, but this type of vision was different, past the blues, past the invisible blues, and into a strange realm where light passed cleanly through most physical things but was still reflected by certain minerals.
Will didn’t enjoy looking into that part of the spectrum because it was extremely disorienting. It was easy to stumble over objects that became nearly invisible, and trying to focus on what was visible could cause vertigo and nausea.
Staying in one spot to minimize the dizziness, Will slowly turned, surveying the walls, floor, and ceiling. Compared to a wooden building, the stone that the keep was built from was nearly opaque, but he could still see ghost-like images of the rooms beyond. The north-facing wall was actually part of the keep’s outer wall, so the stone was extremely thick there, too thick for him to see through, but one portion of it held a dark square, and within the square were several brighter places that seemed almost to shine.
Will smiled and moved toward the spot, then promptly tripped over a footstool that was practically invisible. Swearing, he rubbed at his now-sore knee before readjusting his vision while simultaneously making a mental note of precisely where the hidden space was located. Once he could see properly, he went to the wall and examined the area closely.
It appeared unremarkable, but the stonework was such that it was conceivable that any door or opening used the seams between stone blocks without being obvious. He could find no sign of magic, so the craftsman who had done it was clearly skilled. After a quarter hour of trying to figure out how it was opened, he gave up and decided to just destroy the wall.
Will considered using a succession of force-lances to do the trick, but he wasn’t sure he could manage it without damaging whatever lay behind the stone. His grave-digging spell wasn’t designed for stone and none of the other spells he knew were any better. Stepping outside, he commandeered the first soldier he spotted, sending the man to find a pickaxe for him to use.
It took a while for the soldier to return, and though the man offered to help, Will sent him away once he had the tool. Whatever lay hidden, he wanted a chance to examine it in private before revealing it to anyone else.
He spent half an hour ruining the wall, and though he eventually got through the foot-thick façade that concealed the hidden space, he also damaged it so thoroughly he doubted he’d ever figure out how it had operated. That didn’t matter, though, what mattered was whatever it was that needed to be so well hidden.
The rectangular space held only two items, a leatherbound journal and a square metal plate made of silver and intricately inscribed with runes. Will opened the journal and then hastily dropped it as the pages within burst into flames. Within seconds, everything but the leatherbound coverboards had been incinerated. He could see the remnants of a passive enchantment written on the inside of one. Apparently, something needed to be said or done before opening, he realized. It might even have been keyed to the owner’s turyn. While he could copy specific turyn signatures, he couldn’t do it without seeing the turyn in question. Either way, it was too late now.
“Damn it.”
Will reached for the silver plate, then paused before his fingers touched it. What if something similar happened, or
worse? A low growl of frustration rose in his throat. Will examined the runes visible on the side that was up, but he couldn’t make heads or tails out of what they meant. It was obviously a complex enchantment, but he couldn’t even guess at what it might do.
But it looked familiar.
He sent a messenger for Scholar Sundy, and after briefly explaining what he thought it might be meant to do, he left her to try and figure out whether the metal plate was trapped or rigged to self-destruct somehow.
“It might take me several days before I even try to move it,” she cautioned. “We’re supposed to leave tomorrow.”
“Take as long as you need. You can catch up with us after,” said Will.
“And what about Commander Bradshaw, isn’t he supposed to move into these quarters?”
“There are other rooms. He’ll understand. Send word as soon as you figure out what it does, even if you’re not sure how.” With that, Will left.
***
First Division crossed the newly repaired stone bridge the next morning. The road ahead was one of the best they would see, being paved and wide enough for two wagons to pass abreast, for it was the main thoroughfare that ran all the way to the capital of Myrsta.
Laina rode beside him, as before, and Darla trailed behind a short distance. His sister looked over and asked, “What happened to the Darrowan army?”
Of course, he’d been getting regular scouting reports since the day they had taken Klendon. “They withdrew after we destroyed the bridges, and they’ve been steadily retreating toward Myrsta ever since.”
She frowned. “They’re just ceding ground without fighting? That doesn’t seem sensible.”
“From all the intelligence, we outnumber them almost two to one at this point. Fighting on open ground would be a disaster for them, so their only choice is to pull back,” he explained.
“And then what?”
Will shrugged. “We’re far from home and getting farther, so we’re reliant on our supply lines. This is their home. The longer they can drag things out, the better it will be for them. They can raise more troops, and it will be easier to support them. They just need to find someplace they can defend and try to delay us. Either that, or they need to come up with a new plan to sever our supply lines, but that will be nigh impossible since we took Klendon.”
Laina looked thoughtful. “Then shouldn’t we be speeding up?”
“We’re twice their size—that makes it harder to use our strength,” he answered. “They already had a week’s head start. Even if we could catch them, I’d have to send lighter, faster elements ahead, and they’d be outnumbered before the rest of the army could arrive. Depending on what their commander decided, they could be most of the way to Myrsta already. Or, alternatively, they could have some other fortified position along the way. No matter what, I’m confident they’re planning to fight us from a very defensible position where they can make us pay the largest cost in men and supplies.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You don’t seem very worried about it. Why?”
In truth, he worried constantly, but not over that point, for he’d planned for it. “Because we won’t follow their plan. If their strength is in Myrsta, or somewhere along the way, we’ll hit them elsewhere, where they’re weak.”
“But you can’t take Darrow without taking the capital.”
Will projected confidence, partly because he needed the practice for when he dealt with the senior officers, and partly because he knew it would annoy her. His expression was smug when he replied, “Can’t I?”
Laina glared at him. “I hope you plan on explaining what you intend.”
He dropped the act and gave her a serious glance. “Not here. Not now. Maybe tonight, with the proper spells to prevent eavesdropping.”
She nodded. “Fair enough. Though how anyone could eavesdrop while we’re riding out in the open with no one close enough to hear, I have no idea.”
“The longer I do this, the more paranoid I become,” he admitted. A messenger rode up then, reporting the latest from the scouts, and their conversation came to an end.
That evening he didn’t find time to explain either, as the usual arguing session, also known as a senior staff meeting, went on longer than usual. Field Marshal Lustral seemed intent on debating every minuscule issue, even when he agreed with the decisions being made. It had the effect of causing Will to doubt himself to a certain degree. Do I show enough interest in the minor details, or is it Lustral who spends too much time on minutiae? Will preferred to think it was a problem with the nobleman, but he couldn’t discount the thought that maybe he was simply biased.
Maybe he wasn’t doing enough. His doubts nagged at him constantly.
After the staff meetings, he had been spending a certain portion of time in the astral plane, and since Klendon, Will had a more focused plan concerning where he spent his time. He still checked on Selene nightly, but he managed the rest of his time observing his officers. Lustral’s private behavior didn’t change, but Will was made even more curious by the fact that Bradshaw, who remained in Klendon, had taken to using a force-dome at certain intervals during the evenings.
Of course, that was what Will often did, to prevent being spied upon, but it made him suspicious. Nerrow frequently did the same, but Will wasn’t inclined to doubt his father. Will also wondered why Lustral never used the spell. Did the man simply have nothing to hide? Or was it a ploy to make Will trust him?
But no one knows I can move around in the astral plane, do they? He couldn’t be sure. All he knew for certain was that the more he spied upon them, the more paranoid he became. There had to be a traitor, but was it the obvious choice? Or was Will missing subtler clues?
The only thing that kept him sane was consulting with the Ring of Vile and Unspeakable Knowledge. And that night he finally reported to Arrogan about the events that had happened during the battle for Klendon, and afterward.
His grandfather didn’t disappoint. “You what?”
“I cast my voice out so everyone could hear me.”
“Through the whole city?”
“And the surrounding area.”
“But you didn’t do it loudly?”
“No, I made the sound come from everywhere, at a normal volume.”
“Damn, boy. That’s definitely a greater talent. You’re lucky your first one is so versatile,” said the ring.
Will frowned. “It still doesn’t seem greater to me. Useful maybe, but it isn’t particularly awesome.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. Don’t underestimate how demoralizing it must have been for the enemy. In the long run, talents that let you destroy stuff are actually the most useless. Yours could enable you to do all sorts of things, including destroy stuff.”
He laughed. “Destroy stuff, what, by yelling at it?”
“Maybe. You should know better than me. You should be able to feel the limits of your own talent. Were there any side effects?”
“Not really. For the most part it’s really easy, unless I do something really big, like when I spoke to the entire city. That made me tired,” he answered.
Arrogan groaned. “No, dolt! Side effects, not the things you normally expect. Of course even a meta-talent will make you tired when used on that scale.”
“Meta-talent?”
“No one can hold or use that much turyn at once. A meta-talent is sort of like a ritual, except it’s more like wild magic than formal magic. Anyway, the meta refers to the fact that you’re using your turyn to act as a seed that influences a vastly greater amount of turyn indirectly. That’s the only way to do something like cast your voice across such a large area, or say, move a mountain.”
Will gaped. “Was there a wizard who could move mountains?”
“Not a mountain per se, but let’s stay on topic. Side effects?”
Will thought for a moment. “The air seemed to get colder. I think it might be borrowing heat energy to create sound.”
The ring made an odd clucking so
und that seemed to signify Arrogan’s satisfaction. “Yes. That is a side effect, and more importantly, it could also be a feature.”
“A feature how?”
“I don’t know. I’m not a phonomancer!” snapped Arrogan grumpily. “Ask yourself that in a few years after you figure all of this out.” After a second, he asked, “Have you told your officers about your change of direction yet?”
Will’s current plan of action had resulted not just from his study of military history, but from consulting with others. His latest plan had come about as a result of some of Arrogan’s advice. “No, but I’m sure Lustral will lose his temper tomorrow when we get to the crossroad.”
“You don’t think he’s your spy?”
Will shrugged, even though he knew the ring couldn’t see physical gestures. “I’d like to think it’s him, since I dislike him, but that’s not evidence.”
The ring snorted. “You’re learning. A good traitor isn’t one who makes you hate him. He’s someone you like. Someone you want to trust.”
Will immediately thought of his father and felt his heart speed up briefly. He took a deep breath and let his heart rate settle down. My paranoia is getting out of hand, he told himself. A few seconds later, he asked, “Couldn’t it be Lustral anyway?”
“Could be. There’s no rule that says your traitor is smart. He could be an idiot, which means he could be a pompous ass like Lustral, who doesn’t have the sense to be sociable. To be honest, it would be best if it’s him.”
“Why?”
Arrogan chuckled darkly. “Remember what they call me in your history books?”
The Betrayer, thought Will. “Yeah.”
“If your traitor is competent, if he’s smart, you’ll never see it coming. Your first clue will be the feeling of steel sliding between your ribs.”
“You’re really trying to keep me from sleeping soundly tonight, aren’t you?” said Will ruefully. “I remember you giving me hell about being ambushed last year. Shouldn’t you be telling me how to avoid betrayal?”
“It’s sort of similar, but then again it isn’t. You have to trust someone, and betrayal comes from someone you trust, not a stranger. So it isn’t something you can protect yourself from as easily. Like I said, let’s hope your spy is Lustral or someone you don’t like. Other than that, all you can do is be wary.”
Disciple of War (Art of the Adept Book 4) Page 29