A Darkness Unleashed (Book 2)

by J. T. Hartke

  Steepling her thin fingers, Sarzine bowed her head almost imperceptibly. “I have been searching for answers to great questions, dear brother. I would hope you would have respect for the sorceresses’ ways our mother and I share.”

  Elyl forced a thin smile. “Did you find any answers?”

  Sarzine squinted. “I found many things.”

  Celedra’s rings clinked as she slapped her hand upon the carved bloodwood table. “Enough, Elyl. Be seated.”

  Taking his seat, Elyl offered a greeting to his next half-sister, seated across the table between Sarzine and Garon. “Greetings, Sarcasta. It is good to see you too.”

  The young Woodsinger’s face remained blank.

  Removing the silk napkin from his plate and dropping it onto his lap, Elyl peered at Sarcasta. “I heard Azura gave us another blessing last night. Do you know where the seed is to be placed?”

  Sarcasta stared at her empty plate. “The north ridge. It will be sung into a watchtower.” Even when speaking her voice carried a melodious rhythm. “I’m sure your rangers will lead us there in the morning.”

  Elyl dipped his head. “It was great wisdom, Mother, to begin planning where to plant the seeds before they appear. Especially since Azura’s gifts have become so rare these days.”

  Granting him a disdainful wave, Celedra reached for her wine. “We both know it was your idea, and it was done a century ago, so no need to remind me of my own wisdom, which I know quite well.” She shifted in her seat. “The fact that it was chosen as a watchtower also reflects your influence within the council. I will not have my son--”

  The door opened and in swept the baby of the family, and the one half-sibling Elyl felt closest to. “Greetings, everyone. I apologize for my lateness. I was learning to use Water in a fascinating way.”

  “Of course,” Elyl heard his mother whisper.

  Sarina plopped herself down between Elyl and her full brother Sadron. “There is hope this new technique may encourage Azura to produce more blossoms.”

  Elyl patted her shoulder, and Sarina turned it into a hug.

  “So glad you have returned.” She leaned back and met his eyes with violet ones like their mother’s. “Have your new rangers worked out as well as you hoped?”

  He gave her a warm smile. “I believe so. They did well on this excursion.” He avoided looking at his mother, but lifted the volume of his voice one notch. “I can only hope they do well when I take them out next time.”

  Shifting her cape again, Celedra snapped her fingers. Servants swirled into the room with bread and exotic fruit salads. Elyl immediately broke a loaf and dipped it into the bright green olive oil on the table.

  “Where do you plan on leading your men this time, my son.” Celedra ignored the food before her. “I have read your preliminary report. I do not know that ranging to the Lond is safe any longer.”

  Elyl pointedly looked at his brother across the table. “I hope to lead this team all the way to the Bloodwood. Garon could use some of that timber for spear staves.”

  Pushing his food around on his plate, Garon did not look up at their mother. “That is true.”

  A cynical twist to her lips, Celedra scoffed. “You will slip through the greatest battle lines drawn in this age to gather sticks?”

  At the far end of the table Sarzon swallowed his fruit and dabbed his mouth with a napkin. “We know what is about to happen out there in the Wastes. The two greatest threats to the secrecy of our existence are about to batter the living sense out of each other.” He picked up his fork again. “Better we stay in shelter and let this problem sort itself out.”

  Sadron tapped the table in agreement with his father.

  Prepared for this argument, Elyl turned to his mother. “Did you read the final report? The one that mentioned our interrogation of an orc scout? Did you not read what it said?”

  His mother pursed her lips. “I did indeed, my son. I have been reading rangers’ reports for almost two thousand years. I know how to be thorough.” She picked up a goblet of dark red wine and took a fastidious sip. “I also know how to read the mumblings of a scared fool.”

  A flash of anger shooting through him, Elyl cleared his throat. “Am I that fool, Mother?”

  Celedra looked shocked. “I was referring to the orc you captured.” She sipped her wine again, this time taking a deeper gulp. “Galdreth is gone from this world. Your father and the entire kingdom he helped to rule died to ensure that. The dark one cannot return.”

  “And so what if it did?” Sarzine the eldest asked from the far corner, intensely scanning the entire family. “Our siding with Gan in the Elder Days did not gain us any glory.”

  Apprehension swelling within him, Elyl rubbed his ear in thought. Where have you been the last several years, sweet sister?

  “Now, now, Sarzine.” Elyl’s stepfather patted her arm. “There is no need for that kind of talk. As your mother says, the dark Dragonsoul is trapped away, as is its lighter counterpart. I remember those times. The Dragon Wars were good for no one.”

  “I remember those times as well,” Garon said, his empty fork waving at Sarzon. “I rode out with my father on that bright day that turned so dark. I held him as he lay dying next to the bodies of ten thousand Blue Knights…and a hundred thousand orc corpses.” He leaned back in his chair. “I saw what the followers of Galdreth wanted that day. They wanted death – death of any kind – even their own.”

  Sarzine leaned forward, her eyes focused on him. “And you were one of the few who came home that day, were you not Garon?”

  Elyl felt the heat of anger burning at the tips of his ears. “He survived only by the great skill of his sword, Sarzine. Thank the spirits of Air that he brought as many knights home with him as he did.”

  Leaning back with a laugh, Sarzine threw her dark braid over her shoulder. “Too bad it is the only sword you know how to use.”

  Stopping the forkful of strawberries and melon just an inch from his mouth, Elyl considered the two. What is that about?

  “Enough!” Celedra brought her hand down on the table again, this time rattling the plates and goblets. “I have made my decision regarding our people. We will remain within the Blue Mountains, our refuge since before the Cataclysm.” She pointed one ringed finger at him. “You will keep your rangers along the borders. Protect the watchtowers.” Her finger trailed to Garon. “And you will keep your knights here in the vale. I will not have Azura unprotected.”

  Elyl kept his silence. When that finger comes out, argument is useless.

  The rest of the supper passed with little more than small talk, led mostly by his sister Sarina. “Tell us about the new ship you are building, Sadron.”

  While her brother droned on, Sarina’s eyes flashed to Elyl. He caught the significance of the glance and nodded.

  When the final dish of honeyed pastry had been finished, Elyl rose to his feet with a bow to his mother. “If you would excuse me, I must see that my rangers are prepared to escort Sarcasta’s Woodsingers and Azura’s precious seed in the morning.” He took a step backward. “I will stay out on the boundary for some time, making certain no one pierces our veil of privacy.”

  Celedra gave him a cursory wave. “As you should, my son. Stay well.”

  Outside the family’s private chambers, Elyl found the familiar stoop. He situated himself on the natural lifewood rail, a part of Azura’s own spreading branches. Her gray wood and gray-green leaves appeared almost pure white in the moonlight. A fresh breeze swept up from the south, carrying the scent of the surrounding forest and mountains, and just a hint of the far away sea. Over it all hung the sweet aroma of Azura, like a lily in full bloom, hinted with jasmine. More stars jumped into the night sky as it deepened, and the last thousand years almost faded from Elyl’s mind.

  “Are they still in the same place they were when you were a boy?” Sarina’s vo
ice asked from the darkness. “You are old enough for them to have progressed somewhat.”

  Elyl forced a laugh. “You are so entertaining, dear sister. You do understand that age is the caretaker of wisdom.”

  She hopped up onto the rail opposite him, like she did as a child several centuries ago. “Well, then why do I hear so little of it from the old people in the room?”

  Now Elyl laughed for real, a genuine smile remaining behind. “I have missed you, sister.”

  “Good,” she said. “Then that’s another reason for me to come with you.”

  He wrinkled his brow. “To the boundary?”

  Sarina shook her head. “No, silly. To watch the battle.” She lifted one hand to forestall his protest. “I know you, Elyl. You are closer to me than any of my full-blooded kin. You will not let the Humans and the Orcs fight it out without observing them. It makes sense, really. At the very least, we need to know who wins.”

  Sliding down from his seat, Elyl stepped closer to his sister. “Do you feel, like your father, that it does not matter who wins?”

  She looked up at the crescent moon, bright enough to see a hint of the rest of its hidden face. “I think it does. Even if Galdreth is still trapped, Orcs would make far less peaceful neighbors than Humans.”

  Elyl laughed. “Maybe. So long as we can maintain the buffer of the Free Cities. But Gannon moves closer every day to absorbing them.” He gave her a smile. “And a century is a small thing to one so old as me.”

  Sarina grabbed his hand. “Then you will let me come with you? You know my power might come in useful out there.”

  Dropping the smile, Elyl gave his sister a hard stare. “It will take endurance and stealth as well, you know.”

  “I snuck in and out of your room all the time as a child, and you didn’t even know unless I wanted you to.” She folded her arms. “And I’m better than I was then.”

  Elyl allowed a bit of the smile to return. “That is true, for certain. Very well. But mother cannot know.”

  Sarina looked back down the hall toward the chamber where they had eaten. “No one in that room can know.”

  Nodding, Elyl led her down the hall, the scent of Azura enveloping them as they went deeper into her recesses. Sarina followed closely, almost as silent as he. They entered one of the storerooms where he kept equipment for his rangers.

  “You will need black leathers.” He rummaged through one chest sized for young trainees. “And a Fadecloak.” He looked up at her. “Do you need a weapon?”

  “My magic is my weapon,” Sarina replied.

  “Formidable as it maybe, you will at least need a walking staff. Also…” Elyl tapped his forehead. “Knights ride, rangers hide. No horses on our trip.”

  She took the leather jerkin he handed to her. “I prefer hiking through the woods myself, as opposed to riding.”

  Elyl snorted, his fondness for his sister warming his chest with hope. “We’ll see how you feel about hiking in the Wastes.”

  “Death and victory are not always mutually exclusive.” – Dain Macovix, Paladin of Balance, 133 A.R.

  A sense of comfort washed over Captain Jaerd Westar at the sound of hooves on wooden planks. The soft tromp and metallic clack echoing from the water reminded him of his first days as a soldier on the wharves of Gavanor – the fight with docked pirates that got him his first bronze pip. He watched the River Lond as it coursed between the staked pontoons beneath his mount.

  “From what I understand,” Jaerd commented to Earl Boris, who rode next to him focused on something far ahead, “mages keep the whole thing from collapsing into a pile of kindling.”

  Dorias Ravenhawke laughed. “Not quite,” the wizard said, “but it would never take this weight for this long without a little aid from magic.”

  Most of the army had passed over the bridge in just a few days. Some had sent their equipment over on wagons, while the men waded and swam using dozens of ropes spanned across the river. Then, much of it had broken into four main forces that would sweep across the strip of land between the Lond and the Gallond. And we follow up the middle – the fifth wheel.

  Once back on the solid ground of the wasteland plains, Jaerd waited with his commanders on a small rise while the rest of the rearguard crossed. Boris studied his soldiers in silence, while Tomas and Dorias watched him with stolen glances. Jaerd pulled out the letter left for him by Tallen with the engineers guarding the bridge.

  Jaerd,

  Sorry it has taken a while to write, but things are hectic. Evidently, the king was angry when he found out Maddi and I left his camp to watch the engineers. I think our new friend the Baron of Feldhelm got in some trouble, but when Maddi healed the king last night, he acted as if nothing was wrong. He only ordered us to remain with his royal camp from now on. “For your own safety,” he told us.

  Oh, and the Lord Magister thinks I should replace him someday…

  I will write you when we deploy for the battle. We’re surrounded by knights and mages, so we should be safe enough.

  Best of luck, and keep safe too,

  Tallen

  Tucking the folded parchment away, Jaerd watched the men gather in front of their commanders. They formed battle ready echelons from the long columns in which they had crossed the first part of the Wastes. It’s three days yet to the Gallond, but we’ve got to be ready for the enemy. He considered the desolate grasslands. Luckily, we have all the room we need to maneuver.

  Those three days passed with little ill event save the food. Thousands of supply wagons rolled along with each wing of the army, but horses and men went through foodstuffs quickly in the emptiness of the Wastes. Healers had declared the water in the Lond drinkable if Water mages cleansed it, so the soldiers filled empty barrels to be sterilized in camp. Even so, Jaerd tasted the foulness through the dried beef and beans in his evening stew. Thank the Waters we still have some from the Free Cities to fill our canteens.

  On the third day, they passed a dry water wagon, abandoned when a broken wheel cracked open its huge barrel. Much of its precious cargo looked to have leaked out into the switchgrass.

  Dorias reached out with one hand, and Tallen sensed him grasp his magic. “It was clean water too.”

  That evening, the army set up camp in a wide swath across the plain. About a mile ahead Jaerd saw the fires of the royal van, surrounded by most of the elite Bluecloaks and the soldiers of House Belcester and House Lindon.

  Boris focused on the king’s camp. “Joslyn and most of the Battlemages are stationed close to the king. They number over a thousand. I am certain he will be safe.”

  Is that concern for Tallen in his voice, or for his father?

  Dorias slipped up from the looming darkness. “Tallen is learning many new things. Merl will be returning to us tonight, but from what he has seen, your brother is a bit of a curiosity among the Bluecloak Corps of Mages.”

  A shadow hanging over thoughts of his brother, Jaerd felt fear rise in his heart. Battle only caused him apprehension when those he loved entered harm’s way. His eyes danced from fire to fire, wondering which one warmed Tallen and Maddi. “Evidently the Lord Magister likes him as well.”

  The Ravenhawke scoffed. “That old windbag. He may be able to throw around a little Fire and Air, but he is a tool of powers with cunning far beyond his own.” Dorias folded his arms. “He should never have allowed the High Elder to demote him in council. A Lord Magister has served on the High Council since the time of Arathan I.”

  Pondering over the distant campfires, Jaerd shrugged his shoulders. “His letter mentioned that the Lord Magister wants Tallen to succeed him.”

  After a moment of silence, he turned to look at the wizard, who tapped one finger against his upper lip.

  “There would be difficulties,” Dorias said at last, digging in his cloak for a pipe. “There are dozens who might want to take Elrin Dan
tos’ place, some of them very powerful, and none would be happy to see a young upstart as the Magister’s favorite.” He stopped, holding a spark of flame over his pipe. “What is Dantos up to?”

  Shortly after they had their meal of beans and dried meat boiled into a paste, a silverback messenger arrived with a dispatch from the command tent. Boris read it twice, his eyes dancing back and forth across the page. He then handed it over to Jaerd, who held it close to the fire.

  Advance forces have reached the Gallond. Enemy presence significant. Vanguard to swing north and cross in flanking maneuver. Central forces to engage enemy tomorrow upon acquiring positions at river’s edge. Rear guard to take position along floodplain ridge one half mile east of fords at dawn. Await further orders. Burn message.

  Jaerd looked up at Boris, who gestured to Tomas and Dorias. The earl also waved over General Mandibor who sat near the fire with a few of his Range Riders.

  “Everyone read it then toss it in the flames.” Boris returned to watching the distant fires. “We have a big day tomorrow.”

  The ridge stood at least thirty yards higher than the burbling water at the wide ford. When Jaerd and the rearguard took their places along it, most of the king’s army had already arrayed itself on the near flood plain in wide rectangles. Heavy pikemen lined the water’s edge, their tall, leaf-bladed spears glittering in the dawn. Thousands of archers and crossbowmen stood in ranks covering the pikes, readying their weapons for battle. Still behind them flew the banners of the king’s van, surrounded by a circle of red-fringed Bluecloaks.

  To either side of king’s position stood the gathered thousands of swordsmen, cloaked in the colors of a hundred noble houses. On the far flanks, both to their left and right, the mass of the cavalry formed up into dozens of tight wedges. Behind Jaerd and the rearguard huddled the thousands of supply wagons, many far less burdened than when they had left the Free Cities.