He looked at the collection of sticks he’d piled in the back of the cave. He could warm himself using his magic, but it would take less energy to make a small fire; that could keep him warm for several hours with just a small expenditure of his reserves. The Dourosh were currently upwind of him, so his smoke would blow away from their camp, reducing the chance it would be seen or smelled.
As he got up to build the fire, the unmistakable sound of a snort reached his ears. He looked left then right but saw nothing. He heard it again, and this time it was accompanied by movement. Some snow to his right shifted and lurched forward. The white mass was broken by two small, black eyes, and as he focused on those eyes, the shapes of nostrils and the narrow slit of a mouth came into focus.
He threw his back against the side of the cave. A snow troll. He’d never seen one before, never fought one, but he knew they were incredibly dangerous. Their fur looked like freshly fallen snow, making it almost impossible to see them when they weren’t moving, and they somehow walked across the top of the snow, not sinking into it or leaving tracks despite their great bulk. There was magic behind that, without a doubt.
Faric risked a peek back out into the gully. It took him a few seconds to find the snow troll again, and when he did, he studied its features more closely. It was moving on all fours, keeping low to the ground. From what he’d heard about them, they often moved this way to keep from being seen, but they could stand on two legs when they needed to. If this one were standing, Faric guessed it would be about eight feet tall. Under normal conditions, he might be able to best it in a fight, but as cold and weak as he was, he would not stand a chance. His only option was avoidance. If the snow troll saw him—
The creature suddenly lurched forward and turned its head in his direction. He resisted the urge to duck farther back into the cave and instead stood as still as possible, not even daring to blink. He was inside the cave, and the contrast between the bright snow and the shadow of the cave might hide him from the creature’s view.
The snow troll snorted again, sniffing the air. It turned its head in the direction of the Dourosh camp. Faric slowly eased himself back. It had caught scent of their fire. He could tell from the aroma that they were cooking some kind of meat, and the snow troll seemed to understand that as well. It began moving again, across the gully then up the slope on the other side.
A few minutes after it disappeared from view, he heard a shout rise up followed by a bellow from the snow troll. There were two or three screams from the throats of men, one final roar from the troll and then silence.
Faric pitied the creature, but at least it sounded as though it had killed or wounded a few of the Dourosh before dying. But now was not the time to make his fire. His enemy would be on alert for a while, and he dared not risk it.
Instead, he conjured up a heat spell, devoting as little energy to it as possible, and let the warmth spread across his skin. He could not maintain the spell for more than a few minutes, though. He moved to the back of the cave, crawled into his bedroll and pulled his cloak more tightly around himself. He would try to sleep. It was the only thing he wanted to do; it was the only thing that would make the interminable winter bearable.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Dominance
Penny gripped the Lion’s Sword and felt its energy flow over her. A dozen figures surrounded her, and even though not all of them were within her sight, she could sense the position and movements of each of them. Something approached from behind, and she spun around and cleaved through an orb. Three more came at her from different directions, and she let the sword take partial control, powering her muscles with its will. Even before she had struck down these orbs, six more were on their way. She ducked, spun, twisted, feeling as though the sword was an extension of her body, slicing through or stabbing at each orb as it tried to dip past the swing of her blade.
Penny tried to keep her mind calm as she let the sword do as it pleased. The line between her actions and those the sword made independently of her was thin, but it was there. For the first time since these training sessions had begun, Penny almost began to enjoy herself. She was working in harmony with the sword, neither one of them attempting to dominate.
A dozen orbs rushed at her at once. Her pulse increased, and she teetered on the edge of losing that equilibrium. And then it was gone. Her will collapsed as she felt the sword surge in power and take full control. It made quick work of the orbs and did not release her until all threats had been eliminated.
Queen Anneli spoke a word, and the circle of people around her stood down, the orbs in their hands fading away. Penny slid the sword into the scabbard at her hip and closed her eyes for a moment, breathing deeply. She’d begun to feel intoxicated after using the sword, and it often took her several minutes to relax afterward.
“Very good,” Anneli said, stepping forward. She dismissed the spell casters who’d been called in to help with Penny’s training and waited for them to leave the throne room before continuing.
“You couldn’t remain in control, could you?”
“No.”
“I could see it happen. The change was obvious.”
“I thought I could this time. I almost did.” Penny brought a hand up to her forehead and put her other one on the queen’s shoulder for support.
“The lightheadedness? How is it this time?”
“Worse than before.”
“You’ve never trained this intensely before. This feeling—this intoxication—is a side effect of letting yourself be overtaken by the sword. The more you have to rely on the sword, such as during an intense encounter like this, the more strongly you’ll feel it.”
“I didn’t feel this when I first used the sword back in Eranion. I just felt sick. But now I almost feel drunk.”
“Many people feel ill the first time they drink too much. But now that you are used to it, the intoxication is more pleasing.” Anneli placed a hand on Penny’s arm. “But some people find wine a little too pleasing.”
Penny nodded. “I understand. I can’t let myself crave this… this euphoria… too much.”
“Yes.”
She looked down at the sword. “I don’t think I will, because when it takes over I feel scared, too. I don’t like feeling that, but what if I don’t have a choice? What if it’s just the price of using it? Lanioc himself seemed to lose himself to the sword. You… you know how I’ve struggled with it these past months.”
Anneli eyed the weapon pensively. “To use it at its full power, you must surrender yourself to it completely. Let us hope that whatever trials you face, they will not require that.”
“But what if, thinking that, I hold back and don’t let the sword take over when it needs to? What if my fear puts the lives of others in danger?” She shook her head. “I know the risks, Anneli. If I am needed in battle, I will not hold back. I will not let this gift go unused. And between you and William, and Owen and Sir Stephen, I know I can be brought back. I won’t let this sword—” She paused as she felt the blade hum against her thigh.
Anneli sensed it and narrowed her gaze at the weapon. “You won’t let it what?”
Penny swallowed. “I was going to say that I won’t let it take me the way it took Lanioc.”
Anneli turned and took a few steps toward her throne. “It is true that Lanioc was alone and isolated at the end. He had withdrawn. He would not even see his closest friends. I’ve seen you struggle against that urge.”
“Yes. I have. But so far I’ve succeeded.”
Anneli reached her throne and sat, leaning forward with her chin resting on her hand. “Lanioc had that sword for about a year after he crafted it. You’ve had it only a few months. Penny, if we defeat Dourok… if the time comes when you no longer need to wield the Lion’s Sword… will you be able to give it up? Lanioc was not able to set it aside. Will you be stronger than he was?”
“Yes.” She glanced down at it. “I mean, I think so. Maybe. But Lanioc was drained from creating the
ward around the Great Forest at the time. Maybe that’s why he wasn’t strong enough to resist it.”
“Perhaps. Tell me, once your initial fear fades, you begin to enjoy using it. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes.”
“That enjoyment will become a burden, Penny. I do not say it may, I say it will. And when that happens, you will be too powerful for me—or anyone else—to take it from you.”
Penny looked away from the queen, frowning. “What are you saying?”
“You know what I’m saying.” She stood, crossed back to Penny and folded her arms around her, being careful not to touch the hilt of the sword. “Oh, my dear girl….”
Penny pressed her face against the queen’s chest, but there were no tears. She was not sad. She was not afraid. The queen’s hug was comforting, but there had been no need for it. Instead, Penny felt that for the first time, it was Anneli who needed comforting.
“You have no idea how much I wish I could have taken this on myself.”
“I do know. I see it in your mind.”
“Yes… I forget that you can now read people almost as effortlessly as I can. Then you see the other thing in my mind, don’t you?”
“You’re afraid. Not of the coming battle and not of the sword. You’re afraid of me.”
Anneli nodded.
“I’ve seen it in you for a while now.”
“I am sorry.”
“Don’t be. William is afraid of me, too. And Owen. But none of you have let your fear change how you feel about me. That’s how I know I can rely on you when the time comes for me to break my bond with the sword. You say I’ll be too powerful for anyone to take it from me, and I know that to be true. I… I already am too powerful for that. But it won’t be force that makes me surrender the sword. It will be this. It will be your love. Whatever I do… however horrible I may become when in thrall to the sword… please don’t let that be stronger than your love.”
“Penny, I….” Anneli sighed.
Penny didn’t need for the queen to continue. She had since verified what she and William had once discussed. Despite her relationship with Stephen, Anneli’s love for her went beyond friendship. She would never act on it, but she didn’t need to. Penny felt it every time they were together. It was concerning, but in a way it was also a comfort. She had two people in her life who would give everything for her: Anneli and William.
As they stood holding one another, Penny felt the queen probing her mind. Without having to say a word, they both knew and understood. Penny loved Anneli, yes, but it was not the same kind of love she felt for William. She could not change that, and Anneli would never wish for her to try.
Penny felt the queen nod. Just like that, they had come to an understanding, and it did not need to be discussed any further.
Anneli broke the embrace, and Penny saw that her eyes were wet. She looked away, pretending to rub at a sore muscle in her forearm. She knew the queen didn’t want her to comment on her tears.
Anneli cleared her throat. “The days are growing longer. In another few weeks, the western entrance to the valley will be passable. I spoke with Faric remotely last night. He is weak, but he will survive until we can reach him.”
“So you’ve decided? You’re sending an army against this new Dourosh outpost in the North Wood?”
“I must. Penny, there is something else. Some time ago, I began to suspect that Dourok had found a way to break the ward surrounding the Great Forest. I believed then—and now—that it is an outsider.”
Penny swallowed. “My visions. I’ve been having them more often.”
“What are you seeing lately?”
“I see Faric sometimes.” She blushed. “I see you and Stephen in your bedchamber. I see Owen in his.”
“And someone else?”
“Yes. George.” An image of George’s face flashed into Penny’s mind. It was the moment he was struck by the Dourosh arrow. It was the last she’d seen of him before Sir Stephen had grabbed her and dragged her away.
“But I also see Sir Harold and Sir Alfred sometimes. And even my parents once or twice, and I know they’re dead. I saw them go into the ground myself.”
“I believe that you are seeing visions and memories together. Stephen and me in my bed… you would have no memory of that.”
“No.”
“And your parents are certainly a memory. But George, Harold and Alfred… your visions of them concern me.”
“You think one of them lived and was captured by the Dourosh.”
“Yes. I’ve never said it, but you have read it in my mind, haven’t you?”
“I have. And I’ve tried to figure out if it’s true or not, but I just can’t. I see George in a dark place. I see his face clearly, up close, but I can’t see anything around him. It could be an image from the first time we lay together in his hut.”
“I’ve tried to expand my energy into the North Wood,” Anneli said. “I have been able to reach to the edge of the forest before, but never into the West Wood when Dourok resided there. Now I cannot reach all the way to the edge of the North Wood. Dourok is blocking me. If he has one of the men we thought dead, I cannot tell.”
“But you said before that the fear was that Dourok would find an outsider, pretend to be his friend, send him back out of the forest and then corrupt him from afar, after he’s beyond the ward. George, Alfred or Harold would never fall for that, not after the Dourosh attacked us.”
“Dourok’s corruption would keep them from crossing the ward, yes, but there are other ways to influence people. We cannot rule out the possibility that one of your former comrades did survive, did get captured and has now crossed the ward. Dourok is in the North Wood where the ward is thinnest. He’s there for a reason.”
The sword felt like it was jumping against Penny’s hip, eager for action. She placed her hand on it to calm its energy.
“Try to see more,” Anneli said. “Remote sight is difficult under the best of circumstances, and if Dourok is blocking me from seeing into the North Wood, you are also being blocked. But try. Try to reach out to George or Harold or Alfred. Try to see if one of them is alive.”
“I’ll try.”
Anneli nodded. “But be careful. Dourok may sense your energy as you explore. He may try to see into your mind.”
“Can he? Having never met me?”
Anneli shrugged. “There are a great many stories about Dourok’s power, and they have been embellished over the past two thousand years. Even so, we cannot afford to discount any of them. The one detail we think too outlandish to be believed could lead to our defeat. I cannot stress enough how dangerous he is, Penny. Never underestimate his power. Never give him any quarter. And never believe for one second that he is defeated, not until every last creature in the Great Forest has been purged of his corruption.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
The Sword’s Desire
Penny had explored little of the city of Lanion. She knew a few blocks of the main thoroughfare that ran past the palace, but she had never even stepped foot across the river. Now, as dawn was just peeking over the mountains to the east, Anneli led her over one of the bridges—rebuilt since the siege—and into the southern half of the city.
The two women were alone. Winter had not yet released its grip on the Great Forest, and few ventured out of doors this early. Beyond that, Anneli had nothing to fear from her people. Several times a day she extended her consciousness from one edge of the city to the other. Any hint of Dourok’s corruption would be immediately apparent to her.
Penny noticed a change in architecture as they went. The ornately carved stone in the neighborhoods around the palace gave way to simpler, squarely built buildings. They were still clad in marble but of a poorer quality; it wasn’t as white and didn’t shine as brightly.
In the south were the barracks, and the neighborhoods nearest them were the poorest of the city. There was a class structure in Lanion, but it was not as extreme as the one back in Emberlyn. P
enny knew that not a single Lanosh lived with the same kinds of hardships she had endured growing up on the Bleaklands.
Still, the streets felt more familiar as they traveled farther south. She’d been to Reevesby, the large town south of the village where she’d been born, and it had narrow, claustrophobic streets like this. Some lights were lit inside the buildings they passed, and she looked in with curiosity whenever she could, getting glimpses of how the common Lanosh lived. She saw small rooms, cluttered with furniture. In one she counted six people—two adults, three children and an elderly man—but only three beds. A clothesline was stretched across the room. She knew the purpose of this, as she’d had one in the hut she’d shared with Owen. When several sheets were hung over it, it provided a bit of privacy.
She thought of the large rooms and extravagant meals she’d enjoyed at the palace, and for the first time in her life she felt ashamed of her privilege. She looked down at the luxurious emerald green dress she was wearing, cinched tightly at the waist by her sword belt. A fur-collared coat kept the chill off, and such an outfit would have been worn only by proper ladies back in Emberlyn. Finally, her eyes rested on the pendant necklace Anneli had given her. If sold, this one trinket would feed her entire village for months. The people back home would never recognize her now. Even the way she walked and the way she spoke had been elevated by her interactions with the queen.
She shook away the guilt; it would help no one to bring these things up to Anneli. Maybe in time, after the immediate threat from Dourok had passed, she might ask why there were any social divisions at all in Lanion. Why couldn’t everyone be given the same benefits?
She blushed. Even without a proper understanding of government, she knew she was being silly. It was simply the way of things, both here and back in Emberlyn. She was sure it was the same in the Kingdom of Gronstave and in the mysterious lands far to the west. At least the people of Lanion would never know what it was like to be forced to dig peat or wear rags or eat days-old stew, hoping it hadn’t spoiled enough to make one sick. And even if their food did make them sick, Lanion’s healers treated all citizens without charge. Ailments that would kill back in Fenhold Village were but minor concerns here.
The Lion's Crypt (The Emberlyn Chronicles Book 2) Page 14