by Curtis, Greg
“Thank you good woman. Please return to your home with the blessings of the Goddess.” In the end politeness was all she had, and whether it worked or not she didn't know. What she did know was that the woman suddenly looked up at her with something akin to shock in her eyes before she and the others scurried away. No doubt she'd expected a beating or worse.
“Dina?” She didn't even have to raise her voice as she called for the wizard's counsel. Dina was almost always there beside her. Some days it was annoying. But she had to admit the woman was also a font of knowledge and wisdom in most things.
“The wizards are no longer pretending to be of the false temple. And they're not just leaving any more, not just running skirmishes as they flee. They're fighting a war of complete annihilation with their old allies. And if as the old woman said, the wizards rode into town already suffering injuries from other battles, then whatever this is not just a local event. Which agrees with what we've heard from the other realms. It would appear that there's some sort of rift between the Circle and the demon king.”
“Any thoughts on why?”
For an answer Dina just shrugged helplessly at her. And then suddenly she looked straight at her – startled as something occurred to her. “Yes! One.”
“Dina?”
“The deal! It's come completely undone. No doubt the Circle have discovered another of the demon king's tricks. Something that cannot be overcome. Which means there will be no ascension for them. And if there's no ascension for them there will be no food for the demon king. The alliance has come completely apart.”
She could be right Erislee realised. It would explain why a bunch of wizards fleeing their allies to escape a war had turned their spat into a war all of its own.
“So what do we do?”
“Carry on. Now hopefully the battles will be easier. And maybe the Circle and the demon king's forces will have done some of the work for us. And hope that this is happening elsewhere.”
Dina was right of course. It was really the only thing they could do. It was also probably a good thing that the temple seemed to have an internal war going on. It just didn't feel like one. It felt like the continuation of a bad dream. And more than that she had the feeling that they should be doing something about it. Taking advantage of the situation. But how? The enemy were destroying themselves already.
On the other hand every wizard who made it all the way back to the Kingdom of the Lion, and presumably Lion's Crest, was another enemy they would have to face at the end. Whatever they could do to stop them completing that journey they would have to do.
It was time to visit the war masters again.
Chapter Fifty Four
A baby!
Harl stood at his smithy trying to concentrate on his work, and failing. All day he had been unable to think of anything else other than Nyma's news. Not since he had received the message.
Nyma was with child and he was to be a father! It was almost beyond his ability to understand. It was something that he had certainly never expected. And yet he knew he should have. After all the nights they had spent together it was only natural to expect that a child would come along in time. And yet for some reason the thought had simply never occurred to him. Maybe he truly was as ignorant in the ways of life as many seemed to think. Maybe it was just that there were some things in life that were simply too good for him to imagine happening.
Still, that didn't matter. As he tried to concentrate on beating the metal for a cuirass he knew that only one thing did matter. He was going to be a father. He would have a son or a daughter.
The knowledge filled him with wonder. It was joyous. A dream given life. But at the same time it terrified him. Would he be a good father? What did he know about raising children? Worse still, how could they have a child in the midst of a war, when people were trying to kill him? When Nyma was a custodian who seemed determined to put herself in harm's way? She hadn't said it, but he was certain she would be in the thick of the fight. She and their baby. And all the while he was sitting out here doing nothing. Crafting weapons for the war yes. But not there beside her, protecting her as he should be.
He needed to be with her.
But there were two problems to overcome if he was to get to her. First he didn't know where she was. He knew where her family's home was, but she wouldn't be with them. She would be in the thick of battle somewhere in the Regency. And second, even if he had known, he couldn't reach her. There was a war raging between them and both sides would likely kill him on sight as an enemy. To add to his problems he had no horse, and even if he had had one, he couldn't ride one well enough to cover the hundreds of leagues he needed to to reach her.
Of course there was a third problem as well. Maybe the most important problem of all. Nyma wouldn't thank him for coming. She was a soldier. A custodian. She did not need or want to be rescued. She would not be taken out of the battle just because she was with child. And if he tried to take her away she would consider it a grave insult. Some days he thought the woman was just too proud. Maybe that was what he loved most in her.
There was supposedly a realm where the people were all blonde giants living among the ice and snow. And where the men were all warriors battling trolls and other strange creatures. He remembered being told stories of them when he was a child. And among those stories there was one that he remembered. One about the women of that warrior race riding into battle with swords and shields, screaming war cries and fighting without thought for their own safety. They were called Valkyries or shield maidens. And while she might not be blonde, a giant, nor carry a shield, that was Nyma. She was a Valkyrie.
Still, everything in him was telling him to go to her. To take her away from this. To save her. It was simply what he had to do. He just wished he knew how. Or that he'd be welcome.
The sound of hoof beats unexpectedly intruded on his thoughts and Harl looked up to see who was calling. He wasn't expecting anyone. Not since the soldier had come that morning to deliver Nyma's message and to pick up wares for the fort. He wasn't expecting to see anyone else for at least a few days. And just then he wasn't in the mood for visitors. He had too much on his mind. He was even less in the mood when he saw who it was.
“Mistress Windstrider?”
It was her, and on a horse – the first time he had seen her riding. That surprised him for some reason. It wasn't that he'd thought she didn't ride – or couldn't. It was just that he'd somehow imagined that she chose to fly everywhere. Since she had the magic. If he'd had the magic that was what he would have done. Also, she was a woman in her sixties at least. Women of that age didn't ride in his experience. If they needed to travel some distance or quickly they used a cart.
Still, she was riding and she seemed quite comfortable on the back of the large black mare. More comfortable than he was if the truth be known. And she dismounted as if it was something she'd done every day of her life.
“Boy, Erislee sent me. She was concerned.” Dina launched immediately into her reason for coming. She was never one for the pleasantries.
“About her sister?” Harl could understand that. Being with child was always a difficult time for a woman. And when the father was a difficult wizard as the High Priestess no doubt considered him, that probably just added to things.
“About you. And about what she thinks you might try to do.”
“About what I might –.”
“Don't play coy with me boy!” Dina was in no mood for his deceptions and she cut him off quickly. “We both know you're thinking about running off to Inel Ison and finding her. And that cannot happen.”
“Why not?” There seemed little point in pretending that he hadn't been thinking about doing exactly what she knew he had been.
“Many reasons. First, you'd get yourself killed. And that is not acceptable. A baby needs a father, and Nyma will need a man beside her to raise the child.”
Harl would have denied her that save that he knew she was probably right. He was good at hidi
ng in the forests, and he was good at running. But sneaking through a battlefield was something else entirely. So he kept his peace.
“Second, you are needed here. Your weapons are helping the battle, saving lives. You are every bit as much a soldier in this war as those who swing your blades. And soldiers do not leave the field of battle before the battle is won.”
“Third, because Nyma does not need your help. She has told her commander that she is with child, and because of that she can no longer ride. She will be in her family home – and no I will not tell you where that is – being cared for by them.”
“Her war is over, and the best way you can protect her is to keep crafting your wares so that in time everyone's war ends.”
“She's at home?” In everything she'd said that was the only thing that mattered to him. He knew where her family lived, the name of the town at least. Ilendigo. He might never have been to Inel Ison. He might have no way of getting there. But he finally had the one thing he wanted more than anything else. Her location.
“Where she's safe and well with her family! Meanwhile her people's war rages on. It goes well, as the wizards and the thralls set about killing one another, but it will take time. Three months, maybe six. And for all that time you will be here, at your smithy, doing your duty. Is that completely clear!”
“Yes.” But it wasn't really. Not when he suddenly knew where to go.
“In that case let me make one thing completely clear boy.” Apparently she'd guessed that he wasn't as committed to his duty as he'd pretended. She sounded upset about it. “If you do leave here, cross a battlefield and finally reach Nyma in one piece, she will know that you abandoned your post here. That because of her, you did not craft the weapons and armour that will save lives and help defeat the enemy. You will have betrayed your people. Just how well do you think she will take that news?”
It was true. Harl wished it wasn't but he knew it was. And just then he would cheerfully have strangled the wizard for her words. Not that it would have changed anything. Nyma would not forgive him if he did as she said, and there was no point in pretending otherwise. He didn't answer her though. He couldn't bring himself to say the words. But his silence seemed to satisfy Mistress Windstrider regardless.
“Good. Now that we understand one another boy, we can start work on composing your note for Nyma. And perhaps a cup of something warm and something to eat wouldn't go amiss while we work. After all, you have a guest. You do remember what it means to have guests?”
“Yes, of course Mistress.”
Was it just him Harl wondered? Or had she actually become more fractious with age? He'd always thought people were supposed to mellow. Still, he knew better than to annoy her. She was after all the most powerful wizard they had and important to the war. She had also taken time out of her duties just to come and see him. If only to berate him. A little politeness was in order. And sending Nyma a note was an excellent idea.
So he mumbled a few vague words and led her across the yard to his front door. Inside his house though things turned almost comically strange.
“What in Hades is that?”
Dina had turned completely white as she stared at the cat as it lay stretched out on the bed, and caught Harl completely by surprise. Why did everybody seem to hate the cat? Granted the cat was a nuisance, but he hadn't thought it was anything more than that. Certainly not enough to provoke such a powerful reaction in her.
“A cat?”
“I can see that child. But it looks horribly like the last cat that Maynard summoned before he was sent to Tartarus. A lot rounder though.”
“He eats a lot.”
Harl wasn't exactly sure what else to say. Or even what to think. It was just a cat after all, and her reaction seemed extreme. And there was no way it could have crossed the leagues between Midland Heights and his home. On the other hand it was stretched out on the bed covering it with its fur and probably sticking its claws in to the furs, shredding them a little more. So he went over, picked it up and put it out.
The cat did not seem impressed by that and stared at him balefully from the yard as he shut the door on it. Harl had no doubt that the little orange monster would somehow find his way inside again in due course – he still hadn't found where it was getting in – but at least for the moment it was outside.
Who knew; maybe it would finally even start hunting some mice? But he doubted it. Meanwhile he had a guest to placate and a letter to write. He began with the basics.
“Tea, Mistress?”
Chapter Fifty Five
A month after Blue Water, Erislee stood on a hill overlooking Eversummer, the largest city and capitol of Vardania, and wondered for the thousandth time just how she could be staring at what she was.
The city was theirs, and though she held the counts in her hands she didn't need to look at them to know that they had lost almost no one. Five more temples had been burnt, and the smoke was rising high into the clear blue sky from them. Two hundred thousand people had been freed from the yoke of the tyrant. She had no idea how many thralls and chimera now lay dead on the streets. Most of them had been dead long before they had arrived.
The Circle's wizards and their army had shown up three weeks before them, and torn the heart out of the temples. Easily five hundred thralls and twenty thousand chimera had been slaughtered, their bodies filling the streets. But just as many wizards and soldiers had died with them, and their bodies too were filling the streets.
By the time they had arrived, the battle for the city had been long finished, and all they had to do was finish off the survivors. In this case that amounted to a few hundred thralls and as many chimera. The demon king's armies had beaten the wizards, but only just. And when Erislee's forces numbered thirty or forty thousand by then, the battle had been less than an afterthought.
The same pattern had been repeated over and over again throughout the realm. The other two cities in Vardania, Passion Valley and Westborough had also been devastated long before their forces had arrived. So much so that their small advanced armies of five thousand men apiece had taken them by themselves. There were so few enemy survivors that there had been no point waiting for the full army to arrive. And with Cloverfield also fallen to them months before, the last of Vardania's cities was theirs.
All across the realm the same story was being retold. In small towns and large, wherever they went, the false temple had gone to war with itself and the result had been calamitous for them. Even more than that, they were coming across battle grounds outside of the towns as well. Graveyards in truth where hundreds and thousands of the enemy had killed one another in their insanity. There at least though a pattern had been obvious. The wizards and their soldiers had all been riding north east for the passes through to the Kingdom of the Lion when they had been attacked by chimera. Most often the attackers were harpies. Vardania being a lower lying land where the creatures could fly more easily, was riddled with them.
Erislee had slowly been getting used to the story. It made no sense but it was at least familiar. But standing there staring at the city with the clouds of black smoke rising into the clear blue sky, she knew she would never understand it. This had been the last major battle for the realm, and in truth it hadn't been theirs. She wasn't completely sure what to make of it.
“High Priestess?”
She turned to see Gallin standing there behind her, his battle axe hanging from his belt, unused this day but still covered in dried blood from scores of other battles. Just as he himself was covered in scars from them; many of them old. His armour consisted of little more than leather rags – claws and teeth had all but shredded it in places – but he hadn't bothered to replace it. He was comfortable in his leather rags, and comfort was more important to him than fashion. And as always she found herself a little in awe of him. Of his boundless vitality. Even as he stood there looking calm and relaxed she knew he was a little like a wild cat, ready to pounce. And whatever he pounced on would die.
&nb
sp; He wasn't a war master – he refused that or any other title – but he was the leader of the wild men and they more than any others she suspected, understood the thoughts running through her mind. They had been running and hiding for five long years. Fighting only when they had to; never starting the battles. It had been the only way they knew to survive. And always they had thought of the enemy – the false temple – as being too powerful to challenge. As being a juggernaut beyond their ability to withstand. Now the false temple was tearing itself apart in front of them and like her they simply didn't know how to make sense of it.
“Gallin, thank you for coming.” She had sent for him, but not she suspected for the reason he expected. He was used to being given orders to do something violent, or else asked for information about a town or a city – the wild men had fled across most of the five kingdoms and so wherever they went some among their number would know the region. “How are your people?”