by Curtis, Greg
Abruptly Terellion felt more warmth running down his face as his nose begin to bleed again and decided that for the moment he would have to wait until he was recovered. And though it was only a bloody nose and nothing particularly serious, he did wonder what would happen when the next Circle wizard died. Was it possible to bleed to death from a bloody nose? Could your head actually tear itself apart just from pain?
Terellion didn't know but he worried that he might soon be about to find out.
Chapter Twenty Seven
It was cold in Midland Heights and Erislee shivered a little as she stood on the top terrace and looked out over the valley. But the cold wasn't just in the air. It was in her heart. In her very bones. For some reason the screams of Maynard still lingered with her, even seven days later. While rationally she knew that what they had done had been both right and necessary, in the end they had sent a frightened and crazy old man into Tartarus to be torn apart body and soul by the demons. How could that ever be right? There were just some acts that you should never have to do.
It didn't feel like justice. Maybe Dike Astraea could explain it. Or the Goddess' mother Themis. But her priests – and they had a couple with them – had been unable to. Though of course she had said nothing of her doubts to them. Just nodded as if she understood and agreed. And then tried not to feel the cold every time she saw a cat. And there were so many about the city, every one of them staring at her as if she was a criminal.
The valley by contrast with its endless mounds of flesh that had once been bodies, was easier to accept. That had been battle. Even though there were so many of them, the deaths had been clean. And every one of those who had died had been trying to kill them. The vultures and buzzards that now covered the valley didn't accuse her of a terrible crime like the cats did. They just set about returning the world to its natural order, and though it might be sometimes ugly it was as it should be.
That was the teaching of the Huntress. Everything hunted. And everything was hunted. It was simply the way of the world. And it was a cycle. Through the death of some, others survived, were nourished, and new life could begin. Even what she was looking at was a part of that. Feeding pathetic old men to demons wasn't. It was murder.
“We really should get back to the others.”
Dina spoke up suddenly, and Erislee started a little. She knew though that it wasn't the first time the wizard had said something similar, but somehow she kept forgetting that Dina was there. Just as she knew that Dina probably understood a lot of what was running through her mind. She probably felt the same. Maybe even worse. After all, to her Maynard had not just been a wizard who had made a dark deal; he had been a fellow wizard of the Circle. She had known him for decades. She had worked with him. They might have even been friends. And she had helped send him to the demons.
Erislee had not asked her about that. She had not dared. But sometimes she thought she could see the same haunted look in the wizard's eyes that she knew lived in her own.
“Why?” Erislee tried to focus on the important matters. “In the end we are still left with the same choice we had before. Should we go East or West? So far no one seems to have an answer.”
Or rather the answer they had was that she should tell them which way to go. And she didn't know. This was a decision the war masters should make. She was certain of that. But they seemed to be strangely reluctant. They simply told her that she was their leader. That her choice would be right as she was guided by her Goddess. And then they set out the options for her to choose from.
Should they head east into the Enteria Regency? There the land was flatter and the roads better. But the cities were larger and there were three of them. The battles would be bigger and she wasn't at all sure that they were ready for them. Or should they instead go west into Vardania? There were also three cities to take if they went in that direction but none of them were larger than Midland Heights and none of them were so well fortified. There were also lots of little towns they could conquer easily on the way which would bring them more soldiers. But the land was rugged and filled with marshes and forests. What roads there were, were rough. And though the battles would be easier, it would be a slow, lengthy campaign. Safe but slow.
Of course there were two more options. The first was to head north straight into the Kingdom of the Lion. But that was no option at all. They simply weren't ready for that. The Kingdom of the Lion would be the last kingdom they would take. It had to be. They would need the strength of all the other four kingdoms before they dared face it. Before they attacked Lion's Crest.
The other was to stay where they were for a while. To simply sit and consolidate their position. But that was almost like giving up. Which was almost what they had been doing for the last seven days. In theory they were consolidating their position. Gathering strength and supplies. Tending to the wounded. Hunting down any remaining false priests. And sending the people of the city off on their way elsewhere. In truth though after the second or third day they could have moved on. She had justified staying a few more days on the grounds of giving the soldiers time to recover and getting more of the wounded back to full health. But they could have done that on the road.
“I still favour east.” Dina told her what she thought as she usually did. “We can come from the Mountains and head east. The dryads can come from Inel Ison and head west, and between the two of us we can crush the Regency. Within six months perhaps. And our army would grow enormously.”
“Or,” responded Erislee thoughtfully “we could both be completely destroyed. Overcome as we tackle forces too large for us. This rebellion could end as quickly as it began.”
And unspoken in that was the understanding that if they did lose, the Rainbow Mountains would sooner or later be once more under the control of the false temple and the demon king's thralls. That was the unexpected cost of victory. Once you did win you suddenly found yourself with something to lose. In a way it was easier to fight when you had nothing.
Dina didn't answer her but continued to stare silently into the distance somewhere behind her. The only one who did say anything was the small orange cat who mewled piteously at her. For some reason he – or she – had taken to following her around. Perhaps to remind her of what she had done. And what sooner or later she was going have to do again. Ten more times. She didn't like that cat.
If only Maynard hadn't been such a pitiful old man.
“High Priestess!”
The sound of a man calling her name was a welcome distraction just then and she turned to see a wizard jogging easily up the stairs towards her. It was Matan, a younger wizard of summoning who looked after the pigeons. She knew immediately that he had a message for her. That was the function he had taken on. His gift allowed him to call them and direct them to places they had never been before. But she wasn't sure what gift it was that allowed him to simply bounce up and down hundreds of stairs all the time and never look tired.
“Matan?”
“We have received word from Glass River High Priestess. They send their applause for our victory once again and say they are training more soldiers for when you are ready to move on. Within a month another thousand will be ready.”
“Good. Send to the fortress that we will have need of them. That we will meet them at Cut Valley Holding. And then we will march west.”
Suddenly her decision was made, and she didn't quite know when she'd made it. But she knew it was the right thing to do. In every hunt every hunter had to make a decision about how much he could risk. It was the choice between returning home with a lesser prize and possibly not returning at all. And for the moment she decided, they would have to take the safer path. Take the prizes that were on offer and build up their strength.
“Yes High Priestess.”
The wizard left them then, almost bouncing as he walked. There was no doubt he was happy. But it wasn't her decision that pleased him. He probably didn't care that much as to whether they went east or west. Rather it was the message
that they had received that made him smile. It told him that the message they had sent to Glass River a week before had been received and that everyone now knew that the Rainbow Mountains were free. Most of all he was proud to have been a part of that victory. If he could have floated down the stairs he probably would have.
“That boy has entirely too much sap in his veins.” Dina stared moodily at the wizard as he ran lightly down the endless stairs.
But as he left her Erislee was actually thinking that was a good thing. That it would be good if he could be happy for a while longer. Someone should be happy. She wondered though if the wizard had any idea what was coming. Not the battles ahead – she was sure he understood that well enough – but further on. She suspected not, he was too caught up in his joy. He had no idea that the days of the wizard were numbered. At least as free agents.
Some of their number possibly knew that. Dina Windstrider knew it. Though they had not discussed it she was sure of that. She also suspected that the wizard of sky agreed with it. After all, all of her companions in the Circle had either been killed or now had a bond with demons. They were but a single step removed from thralls. She understood only too well that wizards could no longer be allowed to simply practice their craft however they chose. They could no longer be trusted to simply govern themselves. And Dina had spent years among the dryads learning to live as they did. Learning their ways. She knew that dryads did not allow for their wizards to be free in the way that humans did.
From the moment their talent was recognised dryad wizards were called to serve. They were apprenticed, schooled and trained to use their gifts properly. And then they were put to work. Wizards did not run their own shops, have their own towers or do whatever they chose. They worked for the people, just as everyone else did. That was the price of life among them. It was also the reason why a great many humans did not find life amongst the dryads an easy thing. But it would surely be hardest on those who had previously had prospects. Who could have used whatever talents they had to make a prosperous life for themselves. Wizards, merchants and those of noble birth. Those who had nothing had nothing to lose.
Some of the other wizards she was sure suspected that they would be curbed. She sometimes spotted some of them talking secretly among themselves and she wondered. But most she thought, had no clue. The decisions about their future had been made without them. The priests had come to an agreement among themselves, as had what was left of the nobility they had been able to find. This nightmare could not be allowed to happen again.
Harl didn't suspect. She was sure of that. He was also the one wizard she felt genuine sorrow for. He worked at his smithy day after day in blissful ignorance, asking little or nothing for his efforts, but thinking about nothing more than revenge. The anger and the hatred was like a living, breathing monster within him – eating him from the inside out. It was sad, but he was a man ruined by his past. One of many. He was the very man they were fighting this war for. And yet when it was over and won, he was also the man who would be cheated of his victory. Because she knew that the only thing he had that brought him some peace was his magic. His smithy. His link to his past. And that was what they were going to take from him. Or not necessarily take from him, but restrict.
When this was over and the war was won he would be left with only a few choices and she doubted that he would find any of them palatable. The first was to serve the new king of whichever realm he called home. That was the choice she suspected he would prefer. It would limit what he could earn and restrict the magic he could cast. He would undoubtedly be expected to perform specific duties. And he would be watched to make certain he obeyed the strictures placed on him. But it was the closest he would come to returning to his old life.
The second choice was to accept a position with one of the temples. There were thirteen temples recognised within the five kingdoms. There were other gods of course and other priests – many of them. But they were mostly too small to have recognised temples and priesthoods. That was, at least within the five kingdoms. Some wizards she was sure would take that path. And there were three temples likely to do well out of the new arrangement. The temple of Apollo the God of Light and Knowledge, the temple of Helios, and the temple of the trickster god Prometheus. Artemis on the other hand would not do well. Few wizards would come her way. And of those few that might Harl would definitely not be one.
But in truth she thought he would never take service with any of the temples. He was not one to bow his head. It wasn't just pride that kept his head unbowed though. It was distrust and anger. If there was a god he followed it was Lyssa. And the Goddess of Rage and Madness did not have temples or priests.
So he might in the end choose to take the only other path offered to him; exile. Having helped to free his home he would be sent far from it. And that would be cruel. Maybe though it would also be the best thing for him? A new life in a new land far from the five kingdoms. Far from the pain of his past.
Whichever path he took though she knew one thing. He would be angry about it. He was angry about many things. That it seemed was forever destined to be his lot in life. And he probably wasn't alone in it.
“High Priestess! High Priestess!”
A soldier came running up the stairs from one of the lower terraces, and brought her attention back to the present. By the looks of things he'd been running hard. His face was red, sweat was pouring down his forehead and he looked out of breath. Climbing all those terraces even at a normal walking pace was hard. But running them, that had to mean that something serious had happened.
“Soldier?”
“They've retaken it!”
No doubt that meant something to him but it didn't mean anything at all to her. “Who's taken what soldier?”
“The enemy! The false temple! They've taken Cut Valley Holding.”
The instant the words came out of the soldier's mouth Erislee's blood chilled and her heart beat loud in her chest. She wanted to yell at him. To tell him to take his words back. It wasn't that it was a lie or a mistake, because it wasn't. She knew it was the truth. She knew it in the same way that everyone always knew bad news was true. It was the good news that you doubted – never the bad. What caused her to panic was that she knew that they had just been dealt a death blow. The same blow they'd just dealt Maynard's army. Midland Heights was a trap. The same trap they'd just used to crush an army. And now they were in its teeth.
How could they not have left a guard?! How could they have left themselves so exposed? And where had the enemy soldiers come from? How had the scouts missed them?
But that was a matter for later. For the moment there were more important questions to be asked. And the main one was; had the trap been closed completely? Was there still a chance for them to escape.
“How many soldier? Can we fight our way free?”
But even as she asked the question she could see the answer in the soldier's terrified eyes. He shrugged helplessly to say he didn't know, but he did know in truth. He just didn't want to give voice to that knowledge.
“Get the war masters!”
In the end it was the only thing to do, but it was too little and far too late. Especially when she already knew what they would say. Send scouts, get information. Fast. And by the time they'd done that the trap would be closed if it wasn't already. But if they didn't and instead just rushed down the rift valley and took their chances, they could all die. Still, the soldier ran off, foolishly believing that there was hope in her words. That she knew what to do.
She only wished he was right.
Chapter Twenty Eight
Hoof beats in the distance told Harl that he had visitors once more, and for a moment he was glad of that. He'd been working hard all morning and was due a break. But only for a moment. The hoof beats were rapid, punched out by horses running hard, and that troubled him a little. It could just be a rider enjoying the sunshine after all the rain as he came calling, but he doubted it. It sounded like trouble.
&nb
sp; How could that be? Word had come through only days before that Midland Heights had fallen. That Maynard had been killed. And the celebrations had been mighty. Across the entire realm so the bards claimed. The Rainbow Mountains were free, and months earlier than even the most overconfident had claimed they would be. The gods it seemed had truly favoured them. But then they were probably upset about their temples and their followers. So if the land was now free what sort of trouble could be calling on him?
Should he grab a weapon? Harl wondered about that for a few moments. But the reality was that his armour and his sword were in the house, too far to run to before his visitor was on him. He would have to make do with what he had, the swords and armour hanging from the racks all around him. But against that it was only one rider approaching.
Before he could decide however, the rider burst into the clearing and he instantly knew a feeling of relief. It was Nyma.