by Simon Kewin
She turned to watch Danny come across – and there was the undain army. It filled the wide plain beside the river, countless ranks of them. Most of them looked like normal people: soldiers with swords and spears, clad in shining armour. Others crouched on all fours, more beast than human, and some were giants wielding clubs huge enough to bring down a house. Steam rose off them from the speed of their rush south. A group of glowing dragonriders and a single robed figure stood at their head, watching or awaiting instructions.
Cait stepped back. “Let's get to the end.”
“And then what?” said Nox, stepping calmly along the narrow section after Danny. “What exactly happens when we get to the end of the bridge?”
“You'll see,” said Cait.
The wind was keener at the end of the bridge, blowing from the north, a cold edge to it. Four feet below, the waters of the An swept by. There was nothing to be seen but the wide waters and, some way out, thick mists hanging in veils. Down the coast, Cait could see the woods they'd hidden in. Upstream, there were only more of the undain, the banks black with rows of them answering the summons from the city.
“So?” said Nox.
“Wait,” said Cait. She didn't look at him.
Danny, catching her gaze, looked troubled but grinned. He believed in her at least. She wasn't sure she did.
“They're coming,” said Nox. “Now would be a good time to zap us out of here.”
A group of undain soldiers were moving at the other end of the bridge. The robed figure waved them onward. They were being cautious, still afraid she could unleash more furious spirits. She really, really wished she could.
She could take out one or two of them, at least. Reveal their true selves to them to turn them mad. Blast them with ice. Freeze the blood in their veins. Something. It clearly wouldn't be enough, but they couldn't just give in.
As they waited, to her surprise, Nox handed her the book. “Take it.”
“What? Why?”
“So you can destroy it. Burn it or shred it with magic if this mysterious miracle of yours doesn't occur. Can you do that?”
“I can try.”
“Good.”
The first undain soldier leaped onto the bridge in a single bound. The creature was powerfully built. It didn't have a sword; instead, the bones of its right arm were horribly extended, stretching from its flesh to form a long, jagged cleaver. The undain practised a few slashing strokes before stomping forward.
It had reached the narrow section when another figure appeared, climbing upward from beneath the bridge. A shorter man than the hulking undain, but armed with a snaking sword. She saw immediately who it was.
“Ran!” She called his name, but he paid no attention. He stood on the narrow stone pathway to fight the undain. The undain swung, but Ran jumped over the blow, slashing his sword at the same time. There was a crunch of metal on bone and the undain, roaring, toppled sideways into the water, its arm severed.
For a moment she thought Ran was going to follow as he landed awkwardly, but he regained his balance and stood waiting for the next attacker.
“He'll fight them all, one by one,” said Danny, something like awe in his voice.
“Don't be ridiculous,” said Nox. “Look at him, he's barely standing.”
Another undain soldier stepped forward, carrying a metal sword. This one was shorter, more Ran's height. He was nimbler, too. He stepped across the narrow stones where the first had lumbered. Cait couldn't follow the blur of blades that followed. Each seemed to strike the other repeatedly but neither fell. Somehow they remained standing on the thin strip of stone.
Ran, under pressure from a flurry of blows, stepped backward. If he was pressed too far the undain queuing up behind could cross to surround him. Then it would all be over.
Ran seemed to stumble, overbalancing, his sword held wide as he tried to stay on his feet. The undain saw its chance and lunged, going directly for Ran's exposed chest. Cait cried out.
The undain's sword never reached Ran. In a single, flowing movement, Ran crouched beneath the blow, bringing his own sword in and up to impale the shocked undain. There was a harsh cry and a spray of blood. The second undain fell, and once again the An swallowed it.
“Incredible,” said Danny.
“It makes no sense,” said Nox. “Why are they doing this? They could flood across. They could leap over him if they wanted.”
“The bridge,” said Cait. “Perhaps the ancient stone prevents them somehow. This isn't Angere any more. This is the An. We're between the two lands. Perhaps that affects the undain.”
Nox looked extremely doubtful. “News to me if it does.”
A third undain squared up to Ran. The sunlight glinted off their raised blades and then once again there was a whirl of blows and counterblows. Ran adopted a different strategy this time, striding forward to push his opponent, overwhelming the creature with the sheer speed of his sword strokes. The undain stepped backward, desperately defending itself. In a few moments, it, too, fell into the waiting waters.
“They're not going to let this continue,” said Nox. “Here they come.”
On the bank, the group of glowing dragonriders, eight of them, moved. In unison, they leaped onto the bridge. Huge swords in hands, they simply stepped over the gaps in the bridge's stonework. Ran, seeing them coming, fell back. He knew he couldn't defeat them. He glanced at Cait and the rest, retreating toward them all the time.
The undain let him go, happy to corral him with the rest at the end of the bridge. Ran edged away. But then, unexpectedly, he charged, throwing himself at the undain in the middle. It was a doomed attack. The undain's sword met Ran's, and Ran was hurled onto the floor of the bridge. He tried to rise but couldn't. Instead he scrabbled backward from his huge attacker, trying to get away.
With another blur of movement, the undain reached Ran. He held his great sword high, preparing to deliver the killing blow.
25. The Cold Waters of the An
Ran scrambled backward from the blow. The undain let him go, as if it enjoyed toying with him. Cait ran toward them. The undain watched her warily but didn't step closer. She lent Ran a hand to haul him up. His bare, muscled skin was wet from sweat and the waters of the An.
“Ran. You're alive. I'm sorry we left you. We had no choice.”
His burns were healing a little, but he still looked terrible, his face pale and drawn. Fresh wounds on his arms showed he hadn't escaped unscathed defending the bridge. She supported him as best she could as they made their way to Danny and Nox.
“You did the right thing,” he said. “Waiting was too dangerous.”
“How did you find us?”
“Tracked you. I saw you running to the bridgehead. Swam beneath the bridge so they wouldn't see me.”
“It's amazing you made it.”
He grunted as he limped along with her. “What is happening? Why are we here? Is help coming?”
“Perhaps. I hope so.”
“From where? Tell me the plan and I can help.”
She wished she could tell him, she really did. They reached Danny and Nox. The four of them stood at the lip of the shattered bridge. Thirty yards away, the eight undain dragonriders edged forward in a line, swords held ready.
“You don't have a plan do you?” said Nox. “No one's coming to rescue us are they?”
“Is that what you think?” she asked.
“That's what I think.”
But even as he spoke, a chill wind swept from the river, forceful enough to make the four of them stagger and sprawl to the ground. For a moment they were engulfed by a thick, freezing mist that streamed off the water. When it passed, the bright sun returned. But now the undain, and beyond them all of Angere, were obscured by a solid wall of grey. The stones of the bridge appeared to stop thirty yards away. They were on a tiny island of their own in the An.
Puzzled, Cait reached into the mist with her mind. She thought it might be the aether creature, that somehow it had followed th
em. She soon saw the truth. There was magic at work. This was a natural mist, but magic was controlling it. A person was controlling it.
“Cait. Look.” Danny pointed the other way, out onto the waters.
A small wooden boat floated toward them. This far away it was little more than a black smudge upon the shining waters. It was a sketch of a boat, two oars dipping in and out of the water and two stick figures inside. One, the rower, sat head bowed with the effort. The other, a woman with long hair, stood at the prow. With each stroke the boat inched nearer.
Nox looked at Cait, surprise clear on his face.
“Who are they?” said Ran. “How can they be out there in a boat?”
Cait didn't reply. One of the figures – the standing woman – she thought she knew. It could only be Hellen Meggenwar, the Andar witch Fer had told her about. Fer had said she was a weatherworker. The gale and the fog had to be her work. Maybe she was powerful enough to keep the undain at bay for a time, too.
As to the other, Cait had no idea. When she held the seeing stone to her eye the light blazing from him was blinding, like staring into the sun. His aura was a deep green. Yet, without the stone, he was a hunched old man, his head bald, his grey beard long and ragged.
The boat nudged the stone pillar of the bridge and still the undain hadn't attacked, hadn't appeared from the mists. Distantly, Cait was aware of the desperate magical struggle taking place in the air around her as the fog was maintained. It couldn't last for long. More and more power was being thrown at the wall as the undain tried to punch through.
The old woman threw a rope for them to catch. “Come on. I can't maintain it forever, can I? Into the boat. You have the book?”
Ran climbed down to stand perfectly balanced in the centre of the boat, holding it tight to the stones of the bridge. Cait followed. The boat swayed alarmingly as she stepped inside. She sat down on a wooden plank that ran across the craft, cradling the book in her lap. Danny climbed in beside her, clearly not quite able to believe what was happening. The old man, the rower, sat opposite them. His eyes were all but invisible beneath his shaggy eyebrows, but he was watching her. Studying her. His long beard flowed down to his legs. He had two little round wounds on his forehead, one on each side, both scabbed over.
“And what about him?” said Hellen, indicating Nox with a nod of her head. “Does he come to Andar or does he stay here with his old friends? What do you say, Cait?”
Nox, she could see, was calculating even now, deciding which option was most to his advantage. She couldn't escape the impression that Hellen was doing precisely the same thing.
“It's up to him,” said Cait. “Let him choose which side he's on.”
“Do you trust him?” Hellen asked.
Did she? He'd given them the book, it was true. Given them both halves of the book and risked a lot to do it. Still, she couldn't forget the look of glee on his face when he'd turned her over to the undain. They could trust him only to do what was in his own best interests. She tried to ignore the fact that Menhroth had said almost exactly the same thing.
“Let him come,” she said. “The undain will tear him to pieces if he stays.”
Hellen nodded, as if she approved of her answer. “Come on, Nox. We're leaving Angere now.”
Nox climbed down. Cait thought he was going to thank her but instead he said, “Get us out of here, witch. Even you can't fight them.”
Hellen studied him, amusement on her lined face. “Really? I seem to be managing it so far.”
Ran pushed them off and the old man brought them about. He began to row, moving them away from Angere with strong pulls on the oars. He muttered some continuous babble of syllables to himself, although whether it was the words of some spell, or he was crazy, she couldn't tell.
Cait couldn't be sure but the fog seemed to follow them over the waters as they crept eastward. In a few moments, the ancient stones of the bridge disappeared. Hellen sat down, breathing rapidly from the magic she'd worked.
“Well,” she said. “That's that. I am pleased to meet you, Cait Weerd. And you, too, Danny. You've been through a lot, both of you. More than we had any right to ask.”
“Are we safe now?” said Cait. “Can they reach us?”
“Not out here. No one sails on the An, didn't you know?”
The fact that they were on the An didn't appear to trouble her. “But the flying undain,” said Cait. “Can't they come for us? Fer said one made it all the way to Andar.”
“It did. But no more. There will be no more undain in Andar until the waters freeze and they can march across. We've made sure of that, at least.” Hellen glanced at the old man, who didn't respond. He maintained the rhythmic surges of his oar strokes. He looked ancient, little more than bone and sinew, although his movements were sure and strong.
“But the serpents,” said Nox. “They'll destroy us out here.”
“No,” said Hellen. “They will not. The beasts of the deep are really in his mind, you see.” She indicated the silent rower with a nod of her head. “In many ways they are him. They'll let us cross safely enough. But if the undain put out in boats to follow it will be a different story.”
Nox's mouth opened and closed a few times, fish-like, before he replied. “Who is he?”
“He is called Hyrn. You know the name?”
Nox nodded. The astonishment on his face was satisfying to see. He clearly did know the name, although it was new to Cait.
“When did you know?” Nox said to Cait. “Why didn't you tell me he was involved?”
“It was too dangerous to tell anyone else,” said Cait. “We couldn't risk the undain finding out, could we?” She caught the look of amusement in Hellen's eye, but the old witch didn't comment. Instead she changed the subject.
“What you've done, what all of you have done, is a wonder. You've given us a chance. Your grandmother was right about you, Cait. And your mother.”
“My mother? You've spoken to her?”
“Only to your grandmother. But they both knew what you had in you. Both wanted to protect you, too, shield you from … all this. Maybe that was the right thing to do and maybe it wasn't. But here you are.”
“My mother…” said Cait.
Hellen put a hand on hers. “I know, child. I know what she did. At the end I don't think she was trying to save your world, or mine, or anything else. I think she was doing what she could for you. She knew the book might help us, but she wanted only to protect her beloved daughter, that's all. And that's exactly as it should be.”
“You saw what happened? Through the aether?”
“No. Johnny told us. Johnny brought the other half of the book through with him.”
“And my gran? And Fer?”
“Johnny was alone. He doesn't know what happened to them. I'm sorry.”
They moved in silence for a time after that, each lost in their own thoughts. Cait dipped her hand in the cold waters of the An. She could feel the chill of ice in it. The only sounds were the slap and fizz of the oars, the creak of the boat's old timbers. They skimmed along in a bubble of clear water surrounded by mist. There was no magic being used, though. These were the An's own veils. The waters grew rougher, the little boat dipping and raising its head as it cut eastward. Once, Cait thought she saw the hulking grey shape of a river serpent in the fog, the flash of a vast eye peering down at her. It vanished as quickly as it came.
“So what happens now?” she asked.
Hellen was staring into the mist, lost in her own thoughts. She turned to Cait and smiled. There was something, Cait thought, of her gran about the old witch. Something that refused to be beaten.
“Now? We have both halves of the Shadow Grimoire. Perhaps we see about using it. Perhaps we destroy it. We have, at least, deprived Menhroth of it. We've dealt him a blow, and he'll be furious. But it isn't a fatal blow. At best we've slowed him down, bought ourselves a little time. The days grow shorter and the light is fading. The ice creeps down the An and soon they will be
able to cross. We have a struggle ahead of us. A grim struggle in which much will be lost.”
“So how do we fight them?” said Danny. “What plan do you have?”
Hellen laughed. “Plans? Ariane used to say I spent too much time scheming. Pots and pans before plots and plans. You deserve the truth. I truly don't know, everything is moving too quickly. There is much here I didn't foresee: you, Hyrn, Nox for that matter. I'm only a foolish old woman, as Ariane also liked to remind me. We will return us to Forness. Then we must get to Islagray and hear your story. And then we will see what's what.”
“Wait,” said Cait, “what happened to Ariane? Fer told me she healed her. You speak as if she's no longer alive.”
“Yes. Ariane died too, I'm afraid,” said Hellen. “Died fighting those things in her own way. That's a story I will tell you. But I miss her more than I can say.”
“So is there any hope?” said Cait. “For Andar? For our world? Angere. Genera. They seem so powerful and we're so weak.”
“Tell me, Cait,” said Hellen. “Were there moments when you lost hope? When you thought you'd never make it to Andar?”
“I guess.”
“And yet here you are, safe for the moment, sitting in a boat surrounded by friends. There is always hope. We've got this far. Now, somehow, we have to see about the rest. That's all we can do, isn't it?”
Cait nodded. She huddled with Danny, arm in arm, glad of the warmth from his body, happy to be alive and safe. For that moment, it was enough.
She closed her eyes and let the rhythmic surging of Hyrn's rowing rock her to a welcome sleep.
Witch King
The Cloven Land Trilogy, Book 3
Simon Kewin
1. Howl Hill
Andar
Hobbe stepped into the blur of the snowstorm. The wind from the north cut through him despite all the fur and cloth he'd muffled himself in. The hard, cold air took his breath away, hurt his lungs. The first true blast of winter. The mountain peaks around him were invisible, their lines wiped away by slanting snow. Even Howl Hill, its bulk towering behind his ramshackle hut, was gone.