Ilythra gazed at the flickering candlelight. She breathed deep, letting the tones of the men swirl around her. She was exhausted and weary in both mind and spirit, but one thing she knew. They would not fail. She spoke before she knew she’d opened her mouth. “Tomorrow, the castle will not withstand us.”
* * *
Bredych paced the expansive room. He absently noted there were no traces of the king’s blood on the stone floor. The Siobani. She’d tricked him. He didn’t sense Ealois, so Ewen didn’t lead. Either his son or another of his lackeys.
Anger burned hot and steady. Tomorrow at sunrise they’d attack again. But they wouldn’t find it so easy to take the castle as they assumed. He didn’t care if every stone was torn down and they killed half his army. If he could win Ilydearta in fair battle, then it was worth almost any cost.
Tomorrow they would face his wrath.
* * *
The sun rose in shades of cream and pink streaking across the sky and mocking the carnage below. The Isolden and Siobani armies marched through muddied fields strewn with war relics. An occasional spear flew from the castle walls but fell short, posing no danger.
Men, weary and cautious, took up positions around the siege engines. Siobani fell back, bows ready for the command.
The stench of unwashed bodies and death prevailed over the hill. Ilythra rode alongside Arien and Meryn, their banners bright against gloomy surroundings.
With a nod to the men, Ilythra joined the archers. Arien signaled and the first volley of arrows, dark against the pale sky, flew over the castle walls. Men moved to the engines. Ilythra rode forward again, directing them toward weakened areas of the ramparts. Great stones disengaged from the castle walls, rolled down the embankments and were added to their store of projectiles to be aimed at the castle.
Isolden men rushed toward the walls, carrying ladders over their heads. Fiery spears rained down on the men, many finding purchase in flesh. Still, the ladders arched up almost gracefully to latch on to the castle walls. Men began sprinting up the crosspieces like ants on a flower stalk. Burning liquid poured from the heights, sizzling against the mud and stone. Men ran screaming, tearing at their clothes. Calm in the midst of chaos, Siobani archers picked off defenders daring to show themselves in the crenels. Ilythra watched it all with almost a sense of detachment. She was waiting.
The air thickened and Crioch’s song reverberated along Teann. Ilythra opened her mouth to scream but it was lost in a cacophony of sound. Rocks fallen free from the castle walls rose in the air and hurled themselves at the attackers. Men cried out and began to run in chaotic panic.
“Fall back!” Meryn screamed.
Ilythra stared at the castle walls. Her stomach plummeted. She couldn’t see him, but she knew Bredych had entered the battle.
* * *
Aclan focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Weariness weighed down his limbs and he was aware of nothing more than a mind-numbing thirst and the smothering darkness. He had slept, he knew it, but he didn’t feel rested. Hendrik walked silently by his side. Neither had the energy for anything except the minimum of conversation, yet the man’s presence was a comfort.
He could no longer tell how long they’d been under the mountain. Time had looped to the ever-present now.
The floor under his feet felt as though it rippled. Then there was a moment of silence that seemed to last forever and it sent terror deep into his bones.
The rock around them groaned.
* * *
Ilythra swayed on her feet as the ground lurched. She reached for Melior’s mane to steady herself. White rimmed the horse’s eyes and he pranced nervously. Several men lost their footing, and horses screamed in terror and tried to bolt. Great jagged rocks thrust from the earth in a shower of sand and small rocks, impaling warriors or casting them aside. Men jumped back to avoid them, but more emerged from the earth as though the land had grown teeth. Confusion reigned. Meryn yelled, directing a retreat, but rocks continued to roar to the surface, thwarting his efforts.
A misting of fine dust floated above the land, reducing visibility and making every breath a challenge. The tang of minerals and fear saturated the air.
Fear clogged Ilythra’s throat and ice coated her limbs. How were they supposed to fight against the earth? She didn’t know what to do.
* * *
Aclan froze in terror as the first rocks began to rain from the ceiling above. The darkness wavered.
Hendrik grabbed his hand. “Run!”
Blindly they raced through the tunnel. Larger and larger rocks dislodged above them, falling in their path and making the way even more hazardous. A rock glanced off Aclan’s head and hit his shoulder. His arm went numb and a trickle of what he knew to be blood wet his face.
Still they didn’t stop.
Aclan tripped, almost taking Hendrik with him. Blinding pain radiated from his ankle when he tried to get back up. The older man cursed, and Aclan found himself hefted over the warrior’s shoulder.
Terror gripped him in an iron clutch. Aclan closed his eyes as Hendrik sprinted into the darkness.
* * *
Ilythra gripped Ilydearta as though somehow contact with the stone would calm her thoughts. Men and horses continued to scream. She could almost hear Bredych’s laughter on the winds of Teann. She closed her eyes. She was outmatched. Fear chilled her skin and left acid in her mouth.
“A way,” she whispered, infusing her will into the words. Her hands shook. She would find a way to battle this. Ilythra opened her eyes and scanned the battlefield. The Siobani archers still kept the Rugians behind their fortress, but the Isolden army was confused and ineffective. She scanned the castle. If he can’t see, he can’t fight. Where would I be if I wanted to see the battle below? She picked out a tower and rushed toward the closest siege engine. “There.” She pointed to the tower. “Have everyone direct their missiles on that tower.”
“But that’s not the way it’s done.” The man glanced around in confusion, and then he lowered his head.
“Do it and tell the others,” a male voice commanded behind her.
Ilythra turned to see Meryn on his horse. He nodded then rushed down the line, trying to gather his troops. Rocks continued to sprout from the soil with terrifying roars.
A piercing cry sounded behind her. She glanced in that direction. Large wolves emerged from the forest, their teeth bared. Ilythra shuddered. It wasn’t the first time she’d faced Bredych’s manipulated pack.
Men fought the furious creatures. Teeth and claws against steel. The screams of men and growls of beasts added to the cacophony of sound.
The siege engines released, one at a time. The tower shuddered under the first blow. After the third, large rocks crumbled to the ground. The earth settled, and Ilythra breathed a sigh of relief. Boulder after boulder hit the tower. After the sixth, it collapsed in a shower of stone and dust.
She waited. Crioch’s song continued, its melody strong. Bredych was still alive. Still directing the battle. It wasn’t enough.
* * *
Hendrik slowed.
“What’s happened?” Aclan croaked. He didn’t recognize his own voice. A fine mist of dust floated in the tunnel, but he realized the rocks had stopped falling.
“I don’t know. But I don’t trust it.” Hendrik set him on his feet.
Aclan tried to put weight on his leg but pain flared, making him dizzy. He grasped Hendrik’s tunic to steady himself.
“The ground isn’t moving.” He stared into the darkness around him. “Are we safe?” Aclan’s ribs and stomach hurt where they’d bounced against Hendrik’s shoulder, and his head stung. The feeling had returned to his arm but left an aching pain.
“No.” Hendrik’s voice was so filled with dread that Aclan’s heart raced. “We’re far from it.” A han
d landed on Aclan’s shoulder. “I’ve come to respect you quite a bit so I’m not going to soften this for you. That much rock can’t fall without something giving. I don’t know what. I’m only catching my breath. I’m going to run like a Glyth is after me until I see blue sky.”
Aclan nodded. If Hendrik was afraid, then he was too. He tried to swallow but his throat was dry.
“It has been an honor to serve you, my king.” Hendrik’s voice was solemn.
Aclan drew upright. “Oh, no. You’re not giving up yet. I am your king, and I say you have not served me quite long enough yet. Find us a way out of here.”
Hendrik chuckled. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
Hendrik hoisted Aclan on his shoulder and they began racing down the tunnels.
The air seemed to vibrate again. Aclan held his breath and then blinked. He could see the stone of the tunnel wall. The darkness wasn’t as deep.
“If my eyes aren’t playing tricks on me,” Hendrik huffed, “there just might be a pinprick of light ahead.”
The earth once again shifted.
* * *
Wolves continued to attack the lines, but the ground remained stable. Had Bredych run out of rocks to hurl at them, or was he counting on his wolves to finish them off? Maybe he was hurt. Ilythra unsheathed her sword to join the men fighting off the snarling creatures.
At Meryn’s instruction, a great log was brought forward. A score of men, shields fastened to their heads, carried it on ropes uphill toward the castle. Nothing could be done about the giant boulders littering the battlefield. The log had to be carried around the field near the woods. With their hands occupied, the men made easy prey for the wolves still hiding in the shadow of the forests.
Several Siobani ran to protect the men carrying the battering ram. Slowly it made its way across the field to the gates and into position.
The gates shuddered as the trunk made contact. Flaming spears rained down on the battering ram, setting shields and men on fire. Warriors moved to replace their fallen comrades as the gates began to splinter. Loud shouts echoed from the wall.
The gates opened, and a mixture of Rugians and Gretons charged out. The Siobani archers fell back, allowing the horsemen to ride forward.
Ilythra froze. Crioch’s song began to fade. Frantic, she searched the field for Arien. Anger and then panic surged through her body. He was getting away. She gritted her teeth together. “No! A way!” she yelled into the heavens.
The ground began to rumble. Her feet were yanked out from beneath her as the earth shifted. Crioch’s song vanished. Dirt like billowing clouds shot into the sky as the land buckled all over the battlefield. The tunnels were collapsing.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Ilythra sat, eyes closed but not asleep. Her body ached. She reached out on the winds of Teann. Empty. Crioch’s song was gone. Had Bredych taken the tunnels out of the castle? If so, had they collapsed on him? What if he was dead? She didn’t examine the prick of sorrow that touched her chest. Bredych dead? It would explain why Crioch was silent now. Her breath caught. If he was, then the stone was buried under the castle rubble. Would they ever find it? He couldn’t have left any other way.
Ewen had told her he could fold distance, but he’d been expending too much energy to do something like that.
It had taken an entire day to defeat the last wave of attackers, but they had.
Arien opened the doorway to the tent and stepped inside. His face was grim. “We searched for hidden passageways under the castle leading toward the mountain,” he began without preamble. “Most tunnels were destroyed, caved in.”
Ilythra closed her eyes. They wouldn’t find him. “Any sign of the prince? Konrad said he was hiding.”
“If he’s hiding, he’s hiding well. We haven’t seen anyone who claims to be a prince.”
“King.” Ilythra lifted one side of her mouth. She felt hollow. She’d failed. “He’d be king now.”
“We’re rounding up the Rugians, but we have found no one who will declare himself a leader. So far, there’s no surrender.”
“They’ll find someone. A scapegoat.” She shook her head. The urge to throw something grew. “We failed.”
Arien’s voice lowered. He stared into her eyes. “In retrieving the stone. Yes. But you did not fail in stopping Bredych.”
She shook her head. Her eyes filled with tears. “For years, I’ve searched for these stones. I found Crioch and it almost cost me my life. I almost died finding your people too. This...this feels like failure.”
He placed a hand gently on her shoulder. “If he is alive, you will find him again.”
She wished she shared the Siobani’s confidence. Ilythra focused on Arien. “Do you think he’s alive?”
Arien’s eyes flickered, but his expression didn’t change. “I thought him dead once before.”
This close she could see the golden-brown light dance in his eyes. “I don’t hear Crioch’s song. He is either far away or dead. Crioch is just...silent. I don’t know what’s worse, Crioch in the hands of Bredych or under that pile of rubble. This was a worthless attempt. I brought the Siobani out of the exile and led them to their deaths for nothing.”
He held out his hand for Ilythra’s sword. Without thinking, she unsheathed Naidel, giving it to him.
“Naidel.” He glanced at her, then at the sword, his gaze appraising. He took a deep breath and then kneeled next to her. His voice was soft. “The sword you received from the queen of Elston had long ago been a gift to Muriel, my brother’s wife and a daughter of Isolden. It’s an heirloom of our house.” He cleared his throat. “So you see, when you entered our lands, you bore not just Ilydearta, but Naidel—hope—a token from my mother. In a very real way, you brought hope to the Dawn Children.”
* * *
Horse’s hooves shattered the Siobani camp’s early-morning silence. Ilythra looked up from her task. A rider bearing Meryn’s standard jumped off his foam-flecked horse and bowed low before Arien. Arien nodded and then glanced in her direction. Their eyes met.
Ilythra continued into the tent with the supplies. In the days since the battle, most of the wounded were walking, no longer in need of the healing tents. But a few still required constant care. Ilythra dedicated her time to healing, letting Meryn and Arien decide the details of surrender. She wasn’t surprised to hear the tent flap open moments later.
“We still haven’t found Aclan. There are none left of the royal family, save a distant cousin. She’s agreed to stand for King Erhard as long as she isn’t held responsible. The Rugian king has denied any knowledge of this invasion. He’s promised to punish those involved. The ceremony of surrender will be held tomorrow.” Arien paused. “Meryn requests your presence.”
“Why?”
“You have standing with the humans. Even the Rugians respect you.”
She froze and turned to Arien, shocked. “Do they?”
A smile touched his mouth, one of the first genuine smiles she’d seen on the Siobani. “Yes, among the Rugians we hold prisoner, there are rumors that you’re a goddess reincarnate.”
Ilythra smiled. She’d almost forgotten. “Thira. Yes, I may have aided that rumor. I’ll be there. What else has been decided?”
“Meryn will claim this territory until Aclan can be found. This cousin will be a figurehead, a vassal. The Rugians will be released to their king. Meryn will deal with the particulars. They do not concern the Siobani. Our dead and wounded have lain on unfamiliar soil too long. We must return.”
“An almost-unified eastern land. It’s what Erhard wanted.”
Arien’s gaze was curious. “You knew him well?”
“I almost married him.” She took a deep breath. “Now what?”
Arien opened then shut his mouth. “Now we return our dead.”
* * *
>
Ilythra sat, silent, between Arien and Meryn as the Rugian leaders promised peace and Lucin swore her loyalty to Meryn. A cup of wine was shared and peace acknowledged. Following a brief dinner, after they broke bread to symbolize their new relationship, Arien and Ilythra departed.
Silence reigned in the Siobani camp as they rode in. Already the warriors had been hard at work, dismantling and preparing to leave. The field seemed lifeless after the fluttering tents disappeared. She stared down at the castle. Jagged rocks still surrounded the broken walls, contrasting with the serene blue lake in the background. The field of battle was still treacherous, sinkholes appearing daily when pockets of air trapped underground collapsed.
Ilythra gazed once more at the ruin of Greton. “Be well, Aclan. Wherever you are.”
She helped prepare the wounded for travel. Warriors cushioned several empty supply wagons with blankets to ease the passage along uneven roads. Healers wrapped the Siobani dead in layers of cloth and pungent herbs, then carried them to waiting wagons. They would be buried in sacred ground.
Meryn, still dressed in battle array, rode in with several men as the first wagons began to pull away. The king dismounted.
Arien strode forward, grasping Meryn’s arm in a warrior’s embrace. “You’ve shown yourself honorable, son of Isolden. The Dawn Children name you friend. It’s good to know the ancient bloodline of Isolden kings still runs true.”
“It’s an honor to be named friend by such an honored race. I thank you.” Meryn turned to Ilythra. “My lady, it’s rare to find a woman who can battle alongside the best warriors and is also a joy to dine with. Should you ever find your way to Isolden, you’ll be welcome.”
“Thank you, King Meryn. May your reign be long and prosperous.” Ilythra inclined her head.
The Siobani moved with silent urgency as they turned their faces north. The dead traveled in wagons in the center of the column, the wounded toward the end.
Several days later, the dark forest rose around them, blocking the sun and multiplying shadows. Straying from the main road, they made camp on what appeared to be ruins. Trees grew beside crumbled marble columns. Fern and foliage had final victory over once-polished stone. Here and there, a lone statue or half-broken wall, rich with the color of lichen and moss, stood testimony that once people had dwelled there.
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