Tanayon Born

by Hausladen, Blake;

  “Sir!” came the call, and Kalyn rode in.

  “You could have sent a messenger,” I said. “What is so urgent? Did you see what is happening at the Chancellery?”

  “You need to move us. Now,” he said. “Two more brigades of Hurdu are moving up the river.”

  His arms fell to his side when he saw the field of wounded men. “Well enough then. Time to find a spot on the wall.”

  I patted him on the back, and we got ourselves ready.

  85

  Madam Dia Yentif

  Lilly

  Shards of glass fell around us as the bright flames engulfed Urnedi.

  “East,” Gern shouted, and we fled. The clatter of hooves helped steel my thoughts. Pemini had hold of Clea, and she, Fana, and Lilly raced ahead of the rest of us.

  Away. We must get away. Where though? We could not ride off into the mountains. Perhaps to the coast in the hopes of finding a ship? I would not take us north to die in the yew forest as Kyoden had.

  Fana turned south then, without a word about it.

  The mine?

  Gern shouted, “Not that way,” but they had already made the turn and showed no signs of slowing to debate it.

  The rumble of our horses’ hooves had subsided. I looked back up the road. Half the garrison pulled to a stop.

  “Gern,” I said. “Aden is right behind us. We’ve lost most of the men.”

  He cursed, and with a great cry raced south after the girls.

  We made it to the quarry as the sun began to set. It was dark in the bottom of the quarry. The clap of hooves echoed off its gray walls.

  Sparks below startled the horses.

  “What is that?” one of the greencoats asked.

  “Just me,” Lilly replied, and after another click and cascade of sparks, the glow of a lantern dispelled the mystery. There were a set of them hanging there beside the entrance to the mine. Pemini and Fana were there, and the three of them lit a dozen more.

  “Why is everyone just standing around?” Fana said. “Everyone inside. Horses, too.”

  Gern was at a loss, but the rest of the sixty-man garrison was wise to her plan. They helped gather up the hitches stacked there and began to attach them to the back side of the massive stone block.

  The Fell Ponies did not mind the dark tunnel as we started down. I did. I dismounted and only made it down because of the press of men and horses behind me.

  We reached a wide chamber. The girls lit more lanterns there, and I heard the grind of stone.

  “You’re sealing us in?” Gern asked.

  “There is no safer place for us upon this earth,” Fana said.

  The men of the garrison had not stopped. The line of ponies that extended into the mine strained upon the ropes, and from up the shaft came the loud stony thud of the massive block fitting home.

  The Fells relaxed beneath the heavy harnesses, and the dozen Chaukai who’d made it leaned upon the good horses or the walls.

  My legs trembled. I brushed Jescia’s neck and stepped across to Pemini. She handed me Clea, and I laughed to see the little darling fast asleep.

  A small grind of stone from above was all the warning we got.

  The hitched horses all screamed as the heavy ropes went taut, and the team was yanked up the shaft.

  Jescia bolted farther down the mine, and Pemini pulled me after her. The screams of the horses and the rending of granite filled our ears. I was out of breath when we reached the bottom. Pemini held a guttering lantern. Fana was there, leaning heavily upon her knees. Jescia had come to a stop at the bottom amidst the tools of the mine and a collection of buckets and chests full of silver dust and coins. Lilly was not there, nor Gern or any of the other Chaukai.

  The cold grip snatched me. I lost the ability to move and stood stupidly for the longest time. A figure approached.

  “Hello, Dia,” Aden said. “You have something there that belongs to me.”

  He was dressed as he had been—a simple slave. He took Clea from my arms. He stroked my cheek.

  “Get away from her,” Lilly screamed. Aden turned just as she flung a handful of something at him. A gritty cloud exploded around his face. The silver dust! He backed away as she flung handful after handful from a bucket, and with a terrible shriek she tossed the rest at him. He coughed, stumbled, and dropped Clea.

  She screamed as she hit the floor, and my body woke. Aden stumbled close to Jescia, I slapped her rump with a shout, and she kicked out blindly. He was struck hard on the chest and shoulder and was slammed against the far wall. Fana appeared above him with a pick and brought it down upon his head. It broke through the side of his jaw and struck the stone floor with a clank.

  I started toward Clea. Aden screamed, leapt up, and knocked Fana to the ground. He yanked the pick from his head and threw it at me. It hit me awkwardly upon the shoulder and knocked me against the wall. I slumped onto the floor as pain and the touch of the Shadow played upon me. Clea’s wails kept me conscious.

  Aden tried to sing but could only cough.

  Little Lilly had found a second bucket. Aden saw her coming, snatched Clea off the floor, and tried to flee. Pemini was in his way. She punched him hard, snatched Clea from his arms, and flung him against the wall. Lilly ran at him and dumped the bucket of silver on his head. Pemini handed the little bundle to Lilly and leapt on top of him as he tried to rise. She pinned him to the floor, ground the silver into his broken face, and tried to pull his head off with her bare hands. His neck cracked ominously, but his jaw gave way first and tore free on one side with a wet crunch. Pemini lost her grip upon him, he elbowed her in the mouth, and she tumbled to the floor.

  I scrambled up. The world would not hold still for me. Lilly lay at my feet, a gash across her forehead. Fana was curled in a ball. Pemini was not moving. Clea cried out, and I spotted Aden running with her toward the mine entrance.

  Jescia bayed and thrust her head up, demanding I climb aloft. I made it across slowly, hefted up the pick, and got hold of her reins. I made it into the saddle, and the sharp rap of Jescia’s iron shoes bit my ears and summoned me back. We reached the lantern-lit chamber above.

  Its floor was cracked down the middle. Gern and the rest there lay in heaps, alive or dead I could not say. I hugged Jescia’s neck as she trotted passed them and up the narrow shaft. The last light of dusk at the far end was bright to my eyes. We emerged from the mineshaft to find the quarry floor covered in a shadowed carpet of broken men and horses. The sounds and smells of the dying left me no clue as to which dark shape could be Aden.

  Clea’s cry drew me to a figure. Aden knelt between two dead horses. I saw the dull glint of a knife.

  I jumped down and raced toward him with the pick.

  The cold grip began to set in. He’d gotten beyond the effects of the silver mine.

  “No,” I whispered, but it was all I could manage as I stumbled to a halt. I tried to take a step back or throw the pick at him. It fell from my hands, instead.

  He cut Clea’s arm and smeared her blood upon his bent and broken head. It did little to heal him. He was covered in silver, and the flesh he touched with the blood acted as though it was beyond repair. His jaw would not reattach, and gray blood continued to leak from his wounds.

  He turned and focused on me. I lost my will. Everything became dull and uninteresting. He crossed and handed Clea to me. I climbed atop Jescia and helped Aden into the saddle behind me. We rode north into the night and back to Urnedi. The keep burned brightly. Half the town was on fire. Screams filled the air. We trotted slowly around it all, west across the bridge, and up through the burning remains of Ojesti, the greencoats, and the slaves.

  On we rode to the quiet harbor. We got down and walked out to a tall ship. Yellowcoats upon the pier tried to stop us. Aden pointed at the ship, and the men stopped yelling and helped us aboard.

  Jescia stamped the pier and charged up and down its length. The sails of the ship went up. Urnedi faded behind us.

  Aden took Clea fro
m my arms. The last thing I saw was Jescia standing alone upon the pier.

  86

  Arilas Barok Yentif

  The Afternoon of the 1st

  “Soma,” I said, “can you get us up river? We must rescue Geart.”

  “You must abandon him if you cannot fight the Ashmari,” Sikhek said and teetered into Dekay. “They will feast upon you. You must retreat and warn the other Vesteal.”

  The stink of the river and his rotting flesh was unbearable. I leaned in close and said to the terrible worm, “There are no others.”

  I expected a look of triumph—anything that would betray his cause against me. His body sagged, instead.

  I turned from him, ignored his pleading, and hurried down.

  Rahan and Soma caught up to me. The rest of the arilas were close behind.

  Rahan asked, “What do you intend?”

  “The Hemari are not what they were when we grew up. They will not rally to you. You cannot stay—we cannot stay. I am going to fetch Geart, and we are leaving.”

  “I cannot leave Bessradi,” he said with a tone I could not at once read. He was giving me an order. It was the tone Leger used when I was being petulant.

  “Didn’t take long for us to disagree, did it?”

  Soma looked ready to strike us both like she would an errant deckhand. “None of that, rot your eyes. The Kingfisher is crossing toward us now. Rahan, stay here with half the Chaukai and load the gold from the treasury aboard her and keep that pennant of yours aloft. Barok, I can get you up river aboard the Whittle with the rest, and we can rescue Geart. We’ll return here, and then you two can fight all you want about whether we’re staying or going.”

  We hid our embarrassment behind a hasty farewell, and I followed her down. We exited through a tiny sally port onto a bleak strip of rocks. I hurried with the rest into the longboats, and we were across the narrow gap and underway almost at once. The sails loved the breeze, and we darted east.

  I caught a smell and turned to see Dekay and Furstundish the Senior helping Sikhek.

  “You brought him aboard?” I asked and drew my sword.

  “Do you know how to fight the Ashmari?” he asked. “Because I remember what happened the day we tried to fight the Hessier at Urnedi without Geart. Do you?”

  “I will not have Sikhek in my presence!”

  A bright flash drew my eyes to the high bridge just around the bend of the river. Its southern half was washed with flames.

  “Geart is there,” Sikhek said and pointed to the wide landing beneath the south side of the bridge. “He has seen us.”

  Geart leaned against a stack of crates. Ryat and Avin stood beside him as if praying. To the south were the shops of the Grand Mhedhil. Amidst the buildings were flashes of yellow. The Hurdu had wasted no time.

  The dark touch of the Hessier crept along my skin.

  “Soma,” I said. “Be ready to depart at once. Chaukai, prepare to move ashore fore and aft. Horace, you take the first troops down the forward gangway and fetch Geart. Furstundish, you take three troops down the aft gangway and screen the landing against the Hurdu. The rest will stay aboard and cover you with longbows.”

  I would have told Soma to go faster, but as we rounded the bend and dove toward the occupied landing, I thought the opposite. Two heavy barges were tied fast to the far end of the sizable landing where Geart, Ryat, and Avin hid behind a collection of cargo. A line of small boats occupied the nearer quarter. The dockhands that had been moving the cargo were fleeing south into the serpentine streets of the Mhedhil.

  “You’re going to hit the boats,” I shouted.

  Soma ignored me. Her crew was only just taking in the sails, and our course did not waver. We struck the small boats with a jarring crash. Several were smashed to tinder, and we came to a soft halt as we pressed the debris into the landing. We tied on, the gangways were flung down, and the men charged out across the landing.

  I got a fresh look at our priests.

  I was a fool. We should not have come.

  Geart and Avin had fallen. Geart’s armor was a mangled wreck, and his face was gray and deadly. His hair was gone, and his teeth had fallen out. Ryat tottered back and forth above them. Blood dripped from the young man’s ears, and he dropped as though his soul had been snatched from his body.

  Darkness took me.

  “Rot your eyes, Parsatayn,” a voice cried out, and the icy grip diminished. It was Dekay, and I’d not have thought him capable of the feat. He rushed down and stood as Ryat had upon the landing. Horace and his men rose and continued across toward Geart, while the rest began to fire at the Hurdu converging on us from a half-dozen streets.

  The air warmed from another bright light and crackle of magic. Captain Horace and his men glowed for a moment before they exploded in a blinding flash. Gone.

  “Parsatayn! Where are you?” I yelled. “Does anyone see Parsatayn?”

  I raced up onto the forecastle. I was already amongst the Chaukai archers that lined the rail when I noticed the white light upon them and heard the crackle of magic. A wave of heat scorched my hair and clothes. I was done for.

  The glow vanished just as quickly, and the heat was washed away by the breeze. The magic had been abandoned.

  Why?

  “There he is,” a Chaukai said and pointed to a figure far off upon the bridge. He was beyond our range. He was looking straight at me. Would he not risk killing me, perhaps?

  He wanted me alive.

  Fine. Let’s just see how badly you want a taste of my blood, you vermin.

  “On me,” I called to the men. I leapt down the gangway and raced toward Geart. “Dekay, get behind the ship. Parsatayn can see you there!”

  But it was too late. A flash and a crackle, and his body exploded. I was tossed back like a doll.

  I felt the black grip all at once and could do nothing but stare back at the ship. Sikhek was there upon the forecastle with Soma. She had hold of him by the throat.

  The pair of them began to glow and a flash stung my eyes. The Whittle’s tall forecastle was on fire, and I could see no one left standing anywhere.

  It was only then that I realized my wounds. I could not find my left ear, and it seemed I’d been stabbed a hundred times.

  Pain and icy darkness took me.

  87

  Admiral Soma O’Nropeel

  The 1st of Autumn, 1196

  “Rot your eyes, Parsatayn. Where are you?” Barok yelled. “Does anyone see Parsatayn?”

  He raced up onto the forecastle, ignoring all calls for restraint. Sikhek and others started up after him. The white light of magic enveloped him, and the whole crew yelled at him to get down. The glow vanished.

  “There he is,” a Chaukai said and pointed to a figure far off upon the bridge.

  Barok laughed, called men to follow him, and charged down.

  “Stay aboard,” I screamed, but he did not hear me. I raced forward but was too late to block him.

  Sikhek said to me from the forecastle, “Parsatayn is Ashmari. Barok should not have come. Turn your ship around at once. Barok and Geart are lost.”

  I charged up, took hold of Sikhek’s arm and throat, and forced him against the railing. “Back to the leeches with you.”

  A fleck of the sun appeared upon Dekay’s chest, and I was not able to close my eyes against it as his body was consumed in a gush of flames and blinding yellow light. Barok was showered with bits of him and fell.

  The great drum sounded—the pleading boom of the Spirit of the Earth. Barok was dying. The greencoats growled but tumbled down like limp dolls. My knees sagged beneath me, but I stayed standing as the hammer of the Spirit’s heart jolted me again.

  The sun itself appeared upon my breast. The Shadow was there. He smiled, and He laughed. My body began to cook from the inside.

  Something struck me hard, and I fell. I hit the dirty water and plunged deep while the savage heart of the Spirit hammered my ears. I could not find the light of the sky, but I knew that
ugly old river. I held my breath, held still, and found the current. I looked above and below, judged one to be darker than the other, and swam madly for the surface. I began to see the glow of the flames. I struggled toward it, broke above the surface, and took a great gulp of air. The glow of flames stung my eyes, but I got my bearing and swam toward the shoring between my ship and the barge. My hands smacked upon the debris of the crushed boats until I got ahold of a crossbeam.

  I coughed and sputtered and wrung the water from my eyes.

  The flames began to make sense. Sikhek had knocked me overboard before Parsatayn’s magic consumed me. The Whittle’s forecastle was on fire.

  Boom, went the dying heart of the world.

  Come on, Soma. Come on!

  I crawled like a broken rat up the slimy crossbeams, got my hands up onto the landing, and scrambled over the edge. The icy grip of the Hessier returned, and it was all I could do to flop heavily onto my back and look across.

  Barok lay on his back near the smoking remains of Dekay. Hurdu horses ran in every direction without their riders. Every man was down as if dead. Parsatayn strode across the landing with his hands folded in front of him. He knelt next to the prince and wet his hands in Barok’s blood.

  The slow drumming kept me from fainting. I was chilled to the bone, but the terror did not own me. I made my body obey. I set my fingernails and chin into the dirty planks of the landing and crawled toward them.

  “I am going to eat you, piece by piece for years and years,” Parsatayn said and sat upon Barok’s chest. He drew a long curved knife and took hold of Barok’s arm. He looked up once at my burning ship and the stricken greencoats. Satisfied, he cut away a slice of Barok’s arm and sang a quick song to heal the wound.