by Curtis, Greg
“Griffins and a unicorn! And you were thinking of mentioning this – when?”
“It didn't seem important.” Which was actually true, though just then it felt like a lie. But it hadn't seemed that important – mainly because when she was with him nothing else seemed important. “After all they don't seem to want to do me any harm.”
Nyma made a noise then that he couldn't completely interpret. Something that he suspected was a mixture of frustration and annoyance with him. And he knew why. She probably suspected – just as he did – that it meant the Goddess had more plans for him. But it could also be that the beasts were simply responding to a place where the touch of the Goddess had been felt in the world. It could be that the smithy had been blessed. Maybe it was sacred? That was better than the alternative interpretation in his view. Which was that they were following him around because he had been touched.
“Some days I wonder about you. Did the Mother give you your magic and take away your reason? Of course they're not here to hurt you! The Goddess has sent them to watch over you. And if she thinks you're in danger than you probably are.”
“Perhaps. But you know we can discuss this later.” Harl kissed her firmly, his strength finally restored and not a moment too soon. He had a horrible feeling the conversation was going to return to his many failings to properly protect himself. And then to his need for guards.
“Later? Again?”
She knew what he meant. And what they would be doing until later arrived. And as usual she gave in to his desires because they were also her own. But this time he worried that she wouldn't be so easily persuaded to forget her concerns. Not if the griffins kept roaring.
“Definitely later.”
Chapter Forty Five
Cloverfield was the city that first told Erislee they were winning the war for Vardania.
But it wasn't the battle that told her that. The battle was much the same as all the others, save that for once it wasn't a walled city. Cloverfield was a flatland trading city. It had no walls. It had never needed such things. What it had were roads and a river, markets and docks. A thousand inns and alehouses so the tales claimed, and a thousand shops. It also had parks and gardens without number, some that between them circled the entire city. And if you wanted to spend your coin on street entertainers and ladies of the night, it had those by the thousands as well.
It was a rich city. The houses in the heart of the city were all at least two stories tall. Three and even four story houses were also not uncommon. Many had ornate columns in front of the portcullises too. And there wasn't a single one that didn't have a front courtyard decorated in mosaic tiles depicting scenes from famous battles. Or the best quality glass in their windows. Cloverfield was a city with endless coin.
Or it had been. Five long years before.
As they fought their way into the city, killing the false priests on all sides as well as their chimera, Erislee couldn't help but notice that the city was dead. There were no street entertainers and there hadn't been for a very long time. The shops were mostly empty and many of them were burnt out. The markets were gone and the dock abandoned. The parks and gardens were overrun with weeds. And the houses were run down. Many were burnt out. As for the hundred and eighty thousand people who had once called it home she would have guessed that less than half that number remained. And most of them were hiding. She caught glimpses of some of them peeking out from the windows of their houses as they pushed through the city.
The beasts of course weren't hiding, and they came at them from every direction. But they were being dealt with swiftly. It was simply a matter of numbers. A few short months before Erislee had led an army of five or six thousand soldiers. After the victory at Midland Heights that number had swelled to fifteen thousand and many more were joining. When the bards had started spreading the tale that it had all been some brilliant strategy and that she now carried the longbow of the Goddess herself, people had started joining up as fast as they could. Midland Heights had been a turning point in the war.
The unexpected thing was that many of those who were joining them were priests and wizards, wild men and half bloods. Outcasts of every stripe. More of them were joining than ever before as they heard of the victory. And they were coming from all directions. Now they had hundreds of wizards, more than she would ever have imagined could have survived. Apparently they were very good at hiding. So too were the priests, and now they formed a flock around her wherever she went, all of them wanting to see the bow.
And as for the others, the trappers and hunters and those of mixed blood; they had formed a whole regiment of their own – the First Axes. The soldiers called them the wild men, and it had to be said with good reason. They weren't all axemen of course, though it was a very common weapon among them. But they were all wild men of one sort or another. And while they refused to be trained as soldiers and wouldn't fight as them, they seemed to have their own deadly arts. They didn't form up in lines or use the soldier's traditional weapons of spears or sword and shield. Instead they tended to simply mob the enemy, almost like wild animals. But many times she'd seen an axe square off against a beast and then watched as the beast ended up in pieces. Too many times to doubt their skill. The years of running and fighting to survive had made them powerful warriors if not soldiers. And many of them she suspected were followers of Lyssa. They had the Goddess' dark fury in them as they fought.
As for the actual trained soldiers, they seemed to know exactly what they were doing. All the training and the drills had been worth it. So as they advanced down the streets the soldiers seemed to have a tactic for every beast they faced. Harpies were being decimated by archers who stood tall behind shields carried by their sword wielding comrades in arms. Cerberi were overcome by soldiers holding their shields low and chopping them up with their swords every time they charged. Minotaurs and leonids were falling victims to pikes that poked out from between the shield walls. The beasts were dangerous – especially when they charged. But their power was being used against them. Every time they charged the lines, shield men would form into a line while soldiers behind them with fifteen foot long pikes that they anchored into the ground were ready for them. The chimera ended up impaled on them. Soon after that they were cut up into little pieces as the soldiers advanced.
The amazing thing to Erislee's untrained eye was how quickly the soldiers could reform into whatever formation they needed the moment each threat appeared. They just seemed to move without needing to be told, or even to talk. But then every one of them had been through it a hundred times or more by then. They understood the dance of battle. And the beasts didn't learn.
Between that and their numbers the rebels quickly began taking the city. Marching up the main streets, clearing out the side ones, and leaving bodies in their wake. Lots of bodies. Most of them were chimera. Many were the false priests of the false temple. But none of them were wizards. Or Circle wizards. Or even temple guards.
That surprised her as the advance continued. Their scouts and spies had reported that one of the Circle called this city home, namely Nardi of Four Lions. He was said to be a powerful beast master. So she'd been expecting to see large numbers of bears and wolves and big cats in the streets. But there'd been nothing. There had been no fire balls either. No lightning strikes and no storms. No magic of any type had been used against them.
For the first few hours the battle that had seemed like nothing more than a welcome change from the rest of the war. It was a pity because they had the cage with its collar ready to send Nardi away the moment they found him and it seemed a shame to have hauled it all the way for nothing. But then when they'd reached the first false temple and the priests had come flying out, none of them armed with any type of magic, it had occurred to her that it was more than that. While she had expected that Nardi would probably be in the main temple, she had still expected there to be other wizards there. The complete lack of them seemed wrong.
After the temple had burned and the priests had died s
he'd checked the bodies. Every one of the fallen priests had had the markings of one demon or another on their wrists. That at least was as expected. But it was the only thing that was. For a while she'd begun to wonder if the false priests weren't even demon thralls at all? If someone had simply stuffed a whole bunch of soldiers in the garb of the priests? They fought like soldiers, and not one of them had magic.
But in time it occurred to her that there were also less of the false priests than there should be. Maybe half as many.
For the next few hours of the advance that had bothered her. Especially when the next temple had proven exactly the same. The priests came rushing out of the burning temple to fight with their twisted creatures, but none of them had magic.
And then there was the other question. Where were the soldiers? The mercenaries donned in the garb of temple priests. They too were missing. Initially she'd worried that it might be a new tactic and they might be formed up somewhere else in the city, waiting to attack them from the side or their rear. It could all be some strange strategy. But the scouts had found nothing of them as they'd explored the city.
Then, as they'd moved on through the centre of the city the truth had come to her. There weren't any wizards or soldiers in the city. It seemed like madness. It made no sense to her. But by the time the third and final temple had burnt to the ground and the same pattern had been repeated she knew it for the truth. And she knew that it wasn't that the wizards weren't there because they'd fled when they'd seen the army approaching. The scouts would have reported that. They'd abandoned the city long before the attack had even begun. They'd simply left the others to die. And by the looks of things they'd taken most of the soldiers with them.
This didn't feel like panic. It was too orderly and too complete for that. There were no stragglers, no things left behind. They'd retreated. And she guessed that she knew where to. Back to the Kingdom of the Lion. Back to Lion's Crest. It was there that everything had begun. It was there that the gate through which the chimera came was located. And it was there that she assumed that the final battle would be fought.
But it seemed too soon. While she'd always expected them to do this eventually, she had been thinking in terms of years. Currently they were only half way through freeing Vardania, the first of the four cities. It was also only the second realm in their campaign to free the five kingdoms. There were still the Enteria Regency and Northland to free before they moved into the Kingdom of the Lion. But at the same time she realised, six of the twelve Circle wizards were dead. The other six were probably running scared. There had already been reports that some of the Circle wizards had been spotted leaving the realms after Midland Heights. Heading for the safety of Lion's Crest. Now it seemed they were taking the rest of their wizards with them.
What did that mean for the deal? For the binding? If the wizards were retreating to safety and taking most of the soldiers with them while leaving the beasts and the other thralls to die, did that mean the deal was broken? Because one thing was certain; the demon king couldn't be too happy about this. If his armies were being slaughtered instead of killing people then he wasn't getting fed.
But that was their problem. Both the wizards' and demon king's. For her and her people it wasn't a problem at all. It was an opportunity. A gift. At least she hoped it was. If the wizards were retreating from Cloverfield – and she assumed from the rest of Vardania – were they also retreating from the other realms? From Northland and the Enteria Regency? If they were that would weaken those realms. And that would mean that Pariton to the north of Northland and Inel Ison to the east of the Regency might both have the opportunity to advance into those lands. Instead of holding their borders they could attack the false temple from three fronts at once.
But it could also be a trap. She could be falling into the enemy's hands again. If there was one thing she didn't want to do, it was that.
By the end of the day when the city was theirs and the sky was black with smoke she knew that messages had to be sent and decisions had to be made. But not by her. For once this didn't fall on her shoulders.
That was why she had war masters with her. And after Midland Heights she had decided to rely far more on them.
“Dina.” She turned to her ever present shadow, both hopeful and worried at the same time. “Call the war masters together. We may have just been gifted a war.”
Chapter Forty Six
“I don't like it.”
And he didn't. Harl didn't like it at all. But as Nyma saddled her horse for the ride he knew he had no choice but to accept it. And she was right. As she had said a hundred times already, this was a ride she had done many times before. The last time only a month or so ago. But still, something about it felt wrong to him. Very wrong.
Maybe it was just that they had become lovers and he was feeling protective? That was surely a part of it. But was it all? He doubted it. Every fibre in his being was telling him not to let her go. It was a mistake. It was always a mistake being apart from loved ones. But Nyma was never going to listen to his fears and doubts. She was a soldier, a custodian among her people, and she would always do her duty no matter what.
“I've crossed the Regency a dozen times at least. Twice during the war. And I've hardly ever been seen and never been caught. Besides, if Erislee is right than I have even less to fear than before. The wizards have gone.”
“And there it is. That one cursed word – “if”. Tyche's clarion call. The word that makes fools of the wise and weaklings of the strong. If there's anything at all we should have learned from this war it's that every time things seem to be going in the right direction, they aren't. And Erislee is not a war master. She's a priestess. She's been tricked before.”
Harl hated to add the last, especially to her sister, but it was the simple truth. Most people might believe her being caught in Midland Heights had been some sort of strategic master stroke, but they both knew the truth. It had been a mistake that had nearly cost them everything.
“Maybe. But it still has to be done. Someone has to carry word of the wizards' flight from Vardania to my people. And it can't be carried by a pigeon. The Great Assembly will not accept the word carried by such a means. They will not listen. The word of a custodian will carry weight where the written word will not.”
Custodian. Harl tried not to cringe but didn't completely succeed. It was a word he was beginning to hate. A custodian was in some ways no different to a ranger or an outrider. One who patrolled the lands in the five kingdoms. At least in his view. But in other ways it was completely different. To be a custodian among the dryads was an honoured position. He still didn't understand much of their land or their ways. But he did understand that Nyma was proud of her position. That she was proud to ride with her watch. Most of all though he understood that because she was a custodian she would keep riding into places where no sane person would go. She would ride through the Enteria Regency time and again, believing that her skills could protect her where others would be vulnerable. But as far as he was concerned she was just gambling. Each and every time. She needed to ride with Tyche at her side and the Mistress of Fortune was as everyone knew, blind.
“Don't look at me like that.” She'd obviously noticed his reaction. “A custodian is a capable rider. I can ride well and hide even better. And I know all the back roads, woods and trails by heart. I'll be fine. And I'll be back in a few weeks. A month at most.”
“I could go with you.” The instant the words came out of his mouth Harl didn't believe he'd said them. But he wouldn't take them back.
“You?” She smiled gently at him. “You can barely stay upright on a horse. Were you to travel hundreds of leagues on horseback I doubt you'd be able to walk, even assuming you hadn't broken something or killed yourself falling off.”
It was true. He was no horseman. He didn't like riding. And most of the soldiers he was occasionally forced to ride with laughed about what they called his unnatural lack of skill. Often to his face!
�
�Besides, you have important work to do here.”
Harl suspected she was probably just being kind – although he did have a lot of work to do. How important it was he didn't know. He also suspected that she was looking forward to her ride. To testing her abilities as a rider once more. He would only be a distraction at best, and more likely in her way. All of which meant he was going to lose the argument. It was probably better to concede it gracefully first.
“Fine!” Graceful wasn't really him. “But be careful and no strange men!”
“You are my only man!” She laughed happily. She actually found it amusing that he was suspicious. She'd told him that a few times and he was almost starting to believe her. “I keep telling you that. And I'm always careful. Besides, there is no man stranger than you!”
“And remember, the blade cuts both ways. There will be no strange women for you either!”
“I would never -.”
“Don't give me that. I've seen the women around you in town. That Ellys has been giving you the eye.”
“Ellys?” It took Harl a moment to realise who she was talking about. And then another to control his instinctive reaction. “She gives everyone the eye – it's glass! Besides she has to be ninety!” Not to mention toothless and senile. Ellys had probably been a pretty woman once – he didn't know for sure. All he knew of her was that for the past couple of years since he had been around she'd sat in the yard in front of her cottage staring at everyone who passed by through her one good eye and talking to the air. Whoever had made the glass one had done a very poor job of it, and the thing was badly painted. But even that wasn't nearly as disturbing as when it started rolling around in its socket.