The Ossard Series (Books 1-3): The Fall of Ossard, Ossard's Hope, and Ossard's Shadow.

by Colin Taber

  “Yes, I think. To be truthful, she’s not yet well, and we both know it. But we can’t stop, and we need to get away from the snow and gargoyles.”

  Sef looked at the start of the road, a good forty paces away, where it rose out of the dark waters. “How about we make a start by crossing the water?”

  Anton stood. “Yes. I wonder how deep it is.”

  “Deep enough, too deep for us to wade, I’ll bet. We will need to keep our things dry or we may freeze to death on the other end.”

  “The water seems warm enough not to freeze,” the Outleaguer remarked.

  “Yes, warmer than the snow outside, but not so warm you’d want to take a bath in it if you didn’t have to. Well, regardless, let’s get this bracing agony over with, and then get to work on getting dry again. We can then begin to explore what awaits us.”

  Anton asked, “Do we need anything from the surface world before we get going?”

  “We should have enough food, and we’re better to travel light and make as quick a crossing as we can.”

  “And the dark, do you really want to walk for days blind if Juvela’s blessing doesn’t work?”

  “No, but we’ll be fine. Let’s cross and I’ll show you.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” Sef answered.

  “Once I get there, I don’t want to have to come back.”

  “You won’t, trust me.”

  Matraia’s voice sounded as well, heavy with sleep, “Trust him. We will be fine.”

  With a sheepish look to the others, Sef said, “I think it best if we strip off most of our clothes. We should try to swim across and carry our packs above us so we have as much dry gear as possible to change into.”

  Anton frowned, but agreed, although he avoided looking Matraia’s way.

  She spoke up, “A good idea.” Immediately, she started shedding her clothes.

  They packed up their bedrolls, boots and gear, wrapping it in their cloaks and tying the parcels with belts and rope. They then placed their bundles in their packs and laced them closed.

  Sef was ready first. He also took his scabbarded sword and threaded it through the straps on the pack, so he only had the one bundle to worry about.

  His pack was heavy, but he was a good swimmer.

  Still, he muttered, “If I drop this, I’m going to regret it.”

  Anton offered, “I suggest we try wading in first and see how deep and precarious it gets, before we go soaking our gear.”

  “Another good idea.”

  Matraia observed. “The roadway is a fair distance, but the slope gentle; it shouldn’t be too long before we can feel it under our feet. Once we’ve waded down this spill of rubble, we may only have to swim a dozen paces or less before we get something firm under foot.”

  Sef and Anton agreed.

  “Ready?” asked Anton, putting his own strapped gear down by Sef’s on the shore.

  The big Flet gave a nod. “If only Juvela could see us now.”

  Anton chuckled. “Yes, her water baby ambassadors.”

  Sef smiled. “Well, there’s nothing for it but to give it a go.” And he began to wade into the water, his first steps cautious. He stumbled a few times as he negotiated the rubble, but what was of greater concern to him was the water’s temperature. He cursed, “By all the Inquisitions’ unused manhood, this is cold!”

  Anton laughed. “I thought you said it was relatively warm?”

  “Compared to the snow outside, but it’s still chilled enough to turn my lips blue.”

  Matraia gave out a soft laugh.

  Anton smiled and called, “You’re as frightened as a young lady on her wedding night... just be brave and embrace it!”

  Sef stumbled and fell forward into the dark depths, his broad back all but disappearing underneath, but he managed to keep his head above, along with the arm that held his sword and pack. The pack’s bottom came down with his fall and slapped the water’s surface, but he used the momentum of his fall to aid him as he swam forward, kicking with his legs and pulling at the water with his free arm.

  The others stopped laughing and stepped forward into the shallows, waiting to see if he was alright.

  Sef called back, “I stepped off a ledge and couldn’t feel the bottom. I hope you can swim?”

  Anton’s earlier mirth died. “You already know the answer to that, or have you forgotten all the excitement of getting me to Fel’s ship after we’d escaped my imprisonment on the Sidian?”

  Sef kept swimming, putting a lot of energy into his kicks and strokes, attempting to not only keep moving but to keep his pack dry. After a few more breaths and strokes as he worked the water, he called back, “And you, Matraia?”

  “I can swim, not well, but the distance should be alright for me. Is there any current?”

  Sef turned to face his goal, concentrating on his swimming as he closed the gap. He faded more and more into the dimming light until he was merely a lighter shadow amidst the dark waters and the rising road ahead of him. Soon, though, he gave out a call of triumph and began rising out of the waters, walking up the road surface to finally emerge. “Made it!”

  Matraia called again, “Is there any current?”

  “No, not really.”

  Anton looked at his friends with a smile of relief. He stepped back to the shore and picked up his own pack and turned to Matraia. “Who’s best to go next – you, the one who’s poisoned, or me, the one who can’t swim?”

  She gave a little shrug and then said, “You go. I can grab you from this end if there’s any trouble. Besides, the water has been what’s healing me; I don’t think it’ll be a problem.”

  He smiled. “That’s true, isn’t it? The water’s blessed each of us.” He turned back to Sef, who was looking around where he had landed, checking the road and the tunnel that disappeared into the gloom beyond. “I’m coming over now. Can you be ready in case I have any problems?”

  “You’ll be fine, but I’ll be ready.”

  Cautiously, with his pack in one hand and his arms out for balance, he began his own attempt to cross. He gasped at the kiss of the cool waters, but remembering the teasing he gave Sef, was quick to silence himself. Soon enough he found the ledge that Sef had fallen off, but since he was ready for it, he used it to launch himself forward as he did his best to swim.

  Sef laughed at the sight of his friend’s flailing limbs. Without hesitation he waded back into the waters, ready to grab Anton when he came within reach.

  It took longer than he expected. The pack of gear was too much for him. He could either keep it above water, mostly, or keep his head clear so he could breathe, but he could not manage both. The Outleaguer spent more time below water, but with his arm up and his bag mostly clear, although it was getting wet as he splashed and thrashed about, trying to propel himself forward.

  Sef took half a dozen strokes forward and grabbed Anton to pull him to where he could stand. His pack, which had barely spent more time out of the water than in, seemed pretty wet.

  With relief, Anton found the ground under foot, so with Sef taking the pack off him, he began to walk up the slope, looking forward to again being on the road. As he emerged from the water, he turned to Sef and said, “See, I told you I could swim,” panting with exhaustion as he spoke.

  “Is that what you call that?” The big Flet laughed. “I thought you were being attacked by something!”

  They both laughed, but their nervous eyes went back to the water. Sef’s joke had revealed a fact that neither of them had considered.

  Anton began to shiver, and Sef knew he would be doing the same shortly. “I’ll watch for Matraia. Can you watch our backs and find a blanket that we can all use to dry off?”

  “I can help.”

  “Yes, you will be. We need to get warm and dry, quickly. Also, keep an eye on the road.”

  Before Anton could answer, Sef waded back in and called across to Matraia, who stood ready to go. “Come on.”

  She held
her pack in one hand and then began to walk forward, entering the water at a good and steady rate. She was a fair distance away, something Sef realised he should be grateful for, as she was standing there almost naked, just as he was. He whispered to Anton, “Get another blanket out for Matraia to dry herself.”

  As she entered the water, she brought her wings as tightly behind her as she could, so they wouldn’t catch any current and drag her away. When she reached the ledge, the water was just below her hips. She took a deep breath and then pushed herself forward, part of the movement forcing her wings go wide and spread.

  With an arm raised above her, again, like the others, holding her pack aloft to try and keep it dry, she seemed to glide a little before she entered the water and then contracted her wings, the motion pushing her even faster forward.

  She went under, but managed to keep most of her pack above the inky surface. After a moment, her head broke clear and she began to favour her kicking to propel herself, using her spare arm to steady herself.

  Sef waded out to meet her as she crossed the deepest part, and she was soon walking up the submerged slope.

  He took the pack off her and urged her to follow him out of the water.

  Anton greeted her with a blanket.

  Sef grabbed the blanket Anton had used and dried off, all of them now focussing on dressing and the road that opened up in front of them.

  Around them, water sung out where the lake was fed by the stream running down one side of the wide and dark road. The flow wasn’t overly deep, but covered a third of the road’s width, trickling down to join the lake’s mostly still waters.

  Sef said, “Let’s finish getting dressed and repack our bags. We also need to check our food stores and make sure everything is dry.”

  “What then?” asked Anton.

  “Then, unless anyone feels the need to rest, I suggest we follow our new road.”

  Chapter 11

  -

  A Welcomed Visitor

  -

  Marco’s Ruins, The Northcountry.

  Marco’s Ruin had been abuzz after my midnight casting of Life. My people all knew what I could do, having witnessed my power previously, but to see it bring the vale into bloom and return trees to its soil reminded them of my potential.

  While that episode had brought a burst of excitement, more importantly it gave us bounteous crops and also generated a reassuring calm. In that sense, largely, all was well. Such a mood also left me better able to concentrate on my future role in things, and in my study of what was happening far to the west to Sef, Anton and Matraia.

  Their passage under the mountain would be one of toil and fatigue.

  It was as I considered such things that someone came looking for me. I’d been in my room, about to seek out Grenda and the Prince in the Heartwood. But a young man came running, declaring, “Lady Juvela, a Lae Velsanan ship has come into the sound!”

  Felamradis!

  I nodded my thanks and decided to head straight for the terrace.

  Stepping out onto the upper terrace, I could see the grand ship coming down the sound, sails unfurled. It was Fel’s ship, the great sleek thing cutting through the calm waters as it made its way towards us. Again, as last time, it came at a fair speed.

  Knowing where they would dock, I headed for the lower terrace. Others flooded out of the ruin as well to gather on the terraces and at its windows, while many more, down in our now lush fields, left that bounty and the surrounding thickets of rosetrees to make their way to the beach.

  Looking at the vessel, with its sleek masts and white timbers, a ship so well cared for and crafted, I couldn’t help but feel my spirit soar at the thought that Fel was back, for perhaps he would carry important news, or at least valuable insight into how the wider world was reacting to what was happening in the Northcountry.

  And word of what the Lae Velsanans were planning...

  Would he share such things? Could he be trusted when his own people came into play?

  I couldn’t know for sure; I could only listen and judge what was said. And in that, at least I wouldn’t be alone. Many would pass their own judgement on the doings of the Fifth and Final Dominion, not the least of which would be the Flets amongst my own people.

  I made my way down the steps linking the two terraces and headed for the balustrade. The ship was already slowing as it neared, beginning its turn, but still a length away from the lone tower that rose from the waters in front of the ruin.

  And, for a moment, I thought I saw the Prince atop the tower watching the arrival, in the full light of day.

  Yes, my Prince, it is Fel, the Grae.

  The True.

  Whispered around me, the words sounded to be chilly in my ear, “Grae ru.”

  Hundreds gathered as I closed on the balustrade, Baruna coming to join me, Kurt in tow. My parents were also coming, them caring for Maria.

  My neglected daughter.

  Neglected because of the guilt I felt when I looked at her.

  Pedro.

  People started waving at the ship, the great beast beginning to turn and finally slow. With the light of the sun, seeming all the brighter now, I moved away from my sombre thoughts as I began to search the crew for Fel.

  “Where are you?” I whispered.

  The deck was busy with crew working their various tasks. They hauled on ropes to pull in sails, tied down gear and worked at other chores someone like me, who’d never been on a ship, has no real inkling of.

  And there he was, striding to the bow.

  He saw me and waved, a relieved smile coming to his broad face.

  I was also relieved to see him, for a moment considering what might have happened if the ship had been hostile, as we’d gathered with no real means to defend ourselves.

  The ship swung around, now near enough that all the detail of what was happening on deck could be seen. The bow passed me by, still half a length out as the ship turned and so very fast came in to dock alongside our walls. The ship quickly slowed, as if something had happened to pull it back. Remembering talk of Lae Velsanans and airships, I knew this must be more of their wonders at work, even if we couldn’t so readily see them.

  Elemental magic?

  Their machina?

  Or something else I hadn’t even heard of?

  For now, what did it matter? What mattered was that they went from a speed faster than I could run to a pace that matched a slow walk then maneuvered their ship alongside the wall. Lines were thrown to eager volunteers before it came alongside to be secured.

  On the deck, a ramp was already being rolled into place.

  And Fel was there, waiting.

  At the other end, his prince stood at the stern, watching over our people and our warm greeting, though he seemed to be of no mind to acknowledge it. No, not at all. This Lae Velsanan stood aloof and cold, like much of the crew.

  As I reached the wall, the ramp settled into place. I realised this was going to be a brief visit. This was no pleasure call, but a duty far more important.

  I could feel the air chill around me.

  The Prince had arrived, though he’d chosen to remain hidden.

  A voice whispered in my ear, “Grae ru.”

  I looked up just as Fel crossed the ramp with four of his men. Those accompanying him, clearly a guard, came armed but also wore wristbands in the colours of House Jenn.

  He stepped onto the flagstones in front of me and gave a slight bow, his eyes eager, but his face otherwise rigid. He whispered, “This will be a more formal visit than my last.”

  I gave a curtsy and said, “Welcome, but I must first thank you for returning me here after the battle, when I was unwell.”

  Fel examined me, his eyes checking my face, and to see if I also stood strong.

  He nodded. “It warms my heart to see you recovered.” And with a tilt of his head he indicated the thickets of trees that now dotted the vale, a thick wood visible deeper inland. “Spring seems to agree with not just you, but also
your valley.”

  I smiled, a blush coming to my cheeks.

  He asked, “May we get out of sight so we can have a frank discussion? I don’t have long before we will need to again put to sea.”

  “Of course... this way.” I turned and indicated the ruins. Baruna caught my eye, so I said, “Follow us, just you and Kurt.”

  As we walked, he asked, “I am here with Prince Jusbudere. He may want to speak with you after, but I expect we will leave well before sunset. It’s unfortunate, particularly as we have so much to talk about, but I must do his bidding.”

  “Of course... he’s your Prince.”

  The further we got from the balustrade, with his guard in tow but leaving his ship at our backs, the more he seemed to relax. “I wish I could have let you know about this visit beforehand, but it is difficult. Everything is becoming difficult.”

  “How so?”

  “High King Caermarou has decreed that Ossard will be taken and claimed as a Dominion colony. This isn’t so much a surprise, but the way he is rallying his forces means he will be sending a huge mission.”

  “How big?”

  “We’ve spoken of this before, loosely, but this looks to be bigger.”

  I turned to meet his gaze as we crossed the last of the terrace and began taking the stairs to the level above. “Bigger?”

  He sighed. “They are releasing over a thousand ships from Aker Manis.”

  “A thousand ships?”

  “Juvela, that’s only from Aker Manis. As many ships, from other ports, are now being ordered to join the campaign fleet.”

  “As many?”

  Gravely, he added, “The horn of Ansilsae has been blown.”

  My voice weakened, “The what?”

  He shook his head and said, “It doesn’t matter. What does is that they are coming to lay waste to the city. That’s my fear. If they see anything that they feel ties in with the corruption of Ossard, it will also be destroyed.”

  “You mean my people here.”

  He grew anxious, licking his lips. I saw him glance at the new trees standing tall in the vale, where days before only pasture and oleander had grown. With a frown, he said, “I can’t say for sure, but it is a possibility.”