by Ben Hale
“It was frequently the other way around,” Jester said wryly.
“She also put us at risk,” Winter said, rubbing the scars on her throat.
Toron disentangled himself from his sister and stepped to Winter, causing her to smile. “Winter,” he said, his tone a mix of humor and wonder. “How does it feel to be openly against the Empire?”
“Hunted,” she said.
They all laughed, and Alydian gestured to the door at the far hall, where savory scents wafted and the clink of silverware signaled what lay inside.
“I’m sure you’re hungry,” she said. “For the time being, you are safe here. Enjoy a meal and get some rest. We have much to discuss.”
“The last time we mingled with allies they sought to kill us in our beds,” Lorth said.
“That will not happen here,” Alydian assured them. “Those within this refuge all have enough conviction that the plague is ineffective.”
“Did Holly make it?” Raiden asked.
“She missed us at Herosian,” Alydian said, “But I foresaw her arrival and sent a rider to bring her and the Defiant here. They arrived last night. It appears all our allies are finally under one roof.”
She smiled, but the expression bore a trace of worry. The euphoria of the reunion faded and the group parted, some to eat, others to talk. Alydian caught Raiden’s eye and he followed her to the center pillar of the chamber. Passing through the forest of Requiems, where Astin directed the training, they ascended into the pillar that had once been the foundation of the oracle tower.
Alydian brought him to a small office that had been owned by one of the high captains in the Runeguard. Commander Othan was now Overseer Othan, and Alydian had taken his office as her own. Broad windows overlooked the training hall, providing an excellent view of the two Paladins about to duel, as well as the large hole where she’d escaped her cell.
“What’s it like coming back to Dawnskeep?”
“Haunting,” she said, and then added, “but only at first.”
He turned to face her. “I missed you.”
“And I you,” she said.
Now that they were alone he noticed the strain on Alydian’s face, the rigidity that implied months of worry. She was less than a century old—young by elven standards—but she looked much older. She looked more like Elenyr.
He reached out and pulled her into an embrace. Softer than the first, they clung to each other as if hoping the moment would last a lifetime, and he relished the warmth of her form. When they parted she had tears in her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I wish we could have returned sooner.”
She smiled. “It matters not. The true conflict is upon us, and I’m grateful you will stand at my side.”
Chapter 39: Reprieve
Raiden watched the Paladins through the window. “You’ve done well.”
“I disagree,” she said. “Nearly the whole of our army is gone and the fragment that remains is languishing in the fortress I destroyed.”
“Yet you built a new army,” he said.
Her lips twitched into a smile. “A moment of cleverness.”
He laughed. “Such resourcefulness is rapidly becoming your legacy.”
She smiled and stepped to the desk, where a plate sat with food partially eaten. Books and maps were strewn about the desk, and most of Commander Othan’s personal decorations had been removed, leaving only the banners of the oracles on the wall. She gestured to a seat and he caught the chair, dragging it to sit with her.
“Will we ever have time together?” she asked.
His gut tightened as he recalled his conversation with Winter. “When the war ends, we will have a wealth of time.”
Her eyes flicked to the hole that led to her broken prison. “Time is not always a blessing.”
“True,” he conceded, “But time with you certainly is.”
“Do you want to see my cell?” she asked, not hearing him.
“Perhaps when it is enshrined as a monument.”
She snorted and looked to him. “Do you still believe in me, even after seeing what I have wrought upon Dawnskeep?”
He shrugged. “You kept your oath. Your sisters abandoned it.”
She shook her head. “I suppose they did.”
“Do you think we can win?” he asked.
“I see that question in their eyes every day,” she said, gesturing to the rebellion. “They want the truth, but it’s a truth I cannot give. But you have delivered a chance, that much is certain.”
They sat at the desk and talked, the conversation shifting from the war to her captivity, and then to their past. Raiden told a story of Elenyr that brought her to laughter, and she shared tales of her father, an elf that died before Raiden became Runeguard.
After months of being hunted it was a welcome reprieve. Both knew it could not endure, but it didn’t matter. It was enough that they could talk as if the war occurred in a distant land. They both steered clear of heavy topics, and instead talked on things that drew amusement.
“Marrow really commanded an army of sharks?” Alydian asked, her eyes wide.
“I would not have believed it unless I was present,” he said, a smile on his face. “One tried to bite her and she slapped it, and then scolded it like an errant child.”
Her laugher reverberated around the room, washing away the tension he’d carried from the moment they’d parted ways. She too seemed unburdened, and as the conversation continued she smiled more, her eyes gradually softening. For the briefest moments, they were simply together, and the matters of weight and war were all but forgotten.
They spent the afternoon in her office, occasionally stealing kisses, but mostly sitting together, their hands touching as they talked. The contact was tentative, the hesitation of love after time apart. Raiden expected an interruption but none came, and he noticed through the window that the rebellion seemed equally as reluctant to return to training.
Raiden watched Jester and Red taking turns in the Paladins, and the duels elicited laughter from the Griffin soldiers. Jester’s skill was legendary, but adapting to an enormous body took time, and he lost to Red four times in quick succession. Red took to the Paladin with surprising ease, the water falling from her head shimmering a distinct shade of crimson.
The two giant soldiers brawled until Jester caught her arm and flipped her onto her back, landing atop her. Even through the Paladin her flush was visible, and he quickly retreated, a smile on his face.
“It looks like Jester and Red favor each other,” Alydian said, following his gaze.
“They have for some time,” Raiden said. “But neither wished to voice their sentiments. They prefer to keep their budding romance quiet.”
Raiden didn’t say why, but Alydian’s smile dimmed, suggesting she knew the reason. Jester and Red felt deeply for each other but they both feared their fate in the war. They had fought together against the Verinai and now the Empire, and both accepted the risks like seasoned soldiers.
“War has a way of enhancing bonds,” she said, her eyes turning to Holly and John, who were attempting to keep their children from sneaking into a Requiem.
Raiden noticed them and smiled. “Holly is a wonder.”
“She is a mother to all,” she said with a smile.
“Did you hear of her time as a general?”
She laughed lightly. “Your Defiant that arrived with her insisted she be their commanding officer.”
“And Astin?” Raiden asked.
“Saw her merit and appointed her general on the spot, much to Holly’s chagrin,” Alydian replied.
Princess Ora picked up Holly’s youngest and carried the squealing girl to her mother. Raiden noticed a change in the young woman. Dressed for combat, she walked with confidence and her carriage was strong. Her hair was coiled down her back, and a slender sword hung on her hip. Astin frequently walked at her side, the proximity suggesting another romance was brewing.
Raiden’s news about the pl
ague spread among the rebellion, enhancing the hope sparked by the creation of the Paladins. He imagined Alydian’s initial arrival had been filled with despair, a crushed rebellion on the verge of defeat. Yet Alydian had salvaged their hope and inspired them anew.
“Do you understand how impressive you are?” he asked, interrupting her description of Astin’s leadership.
Her cheeks burned a shade of pink. “Why would you say that?”
“You have shouldered the burden of being high oracle and faced down those you called family. If my brother had betrayed me, I doubt I would have had the courage to stand against him.”
She smiled shyly and looked away. “You had a hand in my escape from Teriah’s prison. Did you know that?”
“How?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I watched your future more than any other,” she said softly. “The prospect of a life together . . .” She stole a glance and then looked away.
“Just how much did you watch me?” he asked suspiciously.
“Only the most exciting events,” she said with a laugh.
He marveled at how easily she elicited a facet of his soul he’d thought lost. In a flood of images he recalled a time before he’d been the Soldier, of nights laughing with his brother. They’d talked about elven maidens they had met after becoming Runeguard, an office that held high esteem.
The greatest threat had been bandits or goblin tribes, and both were no match for a Runeguard patrol. Like the rest of the Verinai he’d looked up to the oracles, believing them to be the best of the mages, the most honorable.
“Why so sober?” Alydian asked, intruding on his thoughts.
“Just thinking of my brother,” he said.
“Will you tell me about him?”
They were sitting on the floor close to the window, a plate of cheeses and breads between them. Jester had delivered it an hour ago and winked before shutting the door. Raiden had grinned and accepted the plate.
“Should we be working on our defenses?” he asked.
Alydian made a subtle motion towards Astin and Ora, who were attempting to be sly as they talked to Jester and Red. They realized Raiden was watching and abruptly parted, their expressions filled with amusement.
“They think they’re playing matchmaker,” Alydian said.
“Perhaps I shouldn’t have kissed you at the gate.”
“No,” she said. “That was definitely what you should have done.”
He grinned and selected a piece of cheese, which turned out to be dwarven fire cheese. Through the sudden tears, he spotted Marrow with a broad grin on her face. Unlike the others, she made no effort to hide her contribution to the meal.
“Blasted girl,” he said.
She laughed. “She just wants to help.”
“But which she?”
“The other one,” Marrow said, her voice coming from just behind Raiden.
“Marrow,” Alydian said jumping at the sound. “A little privacy would be appreciated.”
“Of course,” Marrow said. “But don’t hurt him. He’s fragile.”
He sputtered a retort but she was already gone. Alydian was in fits of amusement, and he picked up a wedge of cheese to throw at her. For several furious moments cheese flew like arrows until they both sat against the table, their shoulders touching.
“I’m sorry about your mother,” he said quietly.
She laughed sourly. “Rumor inevitably outdoes reality, yet in this regard, the truth is more unbelievable. She is, in fact, alive.”
“She’s not dead?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
A swirl of green smoke seeped through the floor, causing him to turn and instinctively draw his sword. But Alydian merely laughed and motioned to the figure rising into view. Then Alydian waved to the glass window and darkened it, preventing anyone from seeing into the chamber.
“Raiden,” she said, “it appears my mother would like to speak with you.”
Elenyr smiled as she rose from the floor and stepped onto the stone. “Don’t stare,” she chided. “It’s rude.”
Raiden couldn’t help it. He stared. Green and luminescent, Elenyr’s very flesh had been altered. Her eyes glowed green as she swept her hand around her waist, extinguishing the smoke. Then she sucked in her breath and her body reverted to the coloring of flesh. But her stark blue eyes had been replaced with a vivid green.
“What happened to you?” Raiden asked.
Alydian sank into a seat behind the desk and motioned to her mother. “She anticipated the removal of her magic with the horrending dagger, and prepared a way so the loss of her magic would alter her physical makeup.”
“You planned this?” Raiden asked.
“I did,” Elenyr said with a smile. “And what freedom it has brought.”
Dressed in pants and a form-fitting tunic, she looked like any common elf except for the striking green of her eyes. Oddly, the silver in her hair was gone, making her appear centuries younger than her eight hundred. It was the look of one who has seen a great weight removed.
“You’re no longer an oracle,” he guessed.
“Clever assumption,” Elenyr said. “I have passed the mantle of my bloodline to my capable daughter.”
Alydian smiled. “I didn’t really have a choice.”
Elenyr smiled as well but it was tight and brief. Then Raiden noticed the tension about her frame, as if she held a terrifying secret that yearned to escape. He’d carried that same look after learning Master Skerl’s secret.
“What have you learned?” he asked.
“I have been scouting Herosian and we have a problem.”
“More than what we already have?” Alydian asked.
“Indeed,” Elenyr said. “It appears Teriah has discovered our refuge, and no longer intends to wait. She is on her way here.”
Alydian sucked in her breath and closed her eyes. A moment later she issued a very un-oraclelike curse. “It appears we will not need to march on Herosian,” she said. “She’s bringing the battle to us . . .”
Chapter 40: Paladins
The news that the Empire was coming reached Toron as he was about to climb into a Requiem. The peace of the last few hours shattered like glass, and the rebellion gathered around the Requiems where they could hear Alydian. At the window of her office, she stood with Astin, Ora, and Raiden.
“My friends,” Alydian called. “As you may have heard, we received news that the Empire knows of our location, and has begun their march.” She waited for the murmurs to settle before continuing, “In six days their army will reach Dawnskeep, when we will defend a broken fortress.”
Her features tightened and she swept her hand to the Paladins. “We have more power than before, and a plan to return the whole of our army to us. We have no place to flee, so this will be our final stand. Our situation is dire but not without hope.”
Marrow appeared next to Toron. “What does this mean?”
Toron glanced her way. “That the war is about to end.”
“With us the victor?”
He didn’t respond, and after a while Marrow disappeared again. Toron noticed Alydian did not describe the details of their plan, and instead laid out the designs of their defense. When another figure appeared at Toron’s side, he sighed in irritation.
“I don’t have any answers,” he said.
“I thought you knew everything,” Winter said with a smile.
“Sorry,” he said. “I thought you were my sister.”
She flicked her white hair. “I really like her, you know.”
“She’s good at being liked,” he said. “Until she gives you a scar.”
“I would have more scars without her,” she said wryly. “Although I did gain a few.” She pointed to her neck, where a thin scar ran across her jugular.
He ran a finger down a scar that ran from elbow to wrist. “I got this because she didn’t like how I was cutting her food. She was three, and tried to cut it right. Instead the knife left this.”
She raised an eyebrow. “How many scars did she give you?”
“More than I can count,” he said.
“How many were deserved?”
“Most of them,” he said with a grin.
She smothered a laugh. Their banter hid their worries, and he noticed a glint to her eyes he hadn’t seen before. Did she favor him? Or was she just seeking friendship before the impending battle?
“Do you know what caused her ailment?” she murmured.
“Even Elsin could not answer that,” Toron said. “She is just unique.”
“All are unique,” Winter said. “Some are just more interesting than others.”
Her eyes lingered on him, suggesting her words had a second meaning. He smiled and returned his attention to Alydian, who was just finishing speaking. Then Alydian yielded to Astin and Ora, who took her place.
“Our force will be divided into four commands,” Ora said. “The Paladins are being divided among them, twelve to each flank.”
“You’re in my command,” Winter whispered.
“Oh?”
“Don’t worry,” she said, still smiling. “I’ll keep an eye on you.”
He grinned at her words and again wondered if they hid a secondary meaning. Winter was beautiful and confident, but it was her integrity that commanded attention. Winter could have easily remained with the Empire, and as a master in the guild of Verinai, she was guaranteed a high position. Yet she’d sacrificed a future of wealth and praise, for honor.
Toron found himself stealing looks at Winter as the rebellion prepared for a final battle. The ensuing days were filled with a rising tension, but the spark of attraction threaded its way into his thoughts, and every time she worked at his side, he examined her profile.
At Astin’s suggestion the mages worked on the city of Horizon, further undermining its already weak structure. Cracks were expanded, caverns were carved, and magic supports were placed so they could be extinguished from a distance. Instead of a weakness, the broken city became a lethal maze of pitfalls and traps. The city that had once been a beacon of peace became a weapon of war.
A surprising ally was Galathon. The rock troll king had a fearsome and brutal reputation, but the loss of his mind reaver had given him a singular focus. He worked harder than anyone, carrying boulders to reinforce the Dawnskeep walls and helping craft weapons for the Paladins.