by Matt Heppe
The blow drove Morin’s head to the road. His visor scraped the hard-packed dirt as he struggled to crawl forward. Silver blood flowed from the visor, turning black as it soaked the ground.
“It is a demon! A veden!” shouted the man with the staff. He spoke with the heavy common accent.
The men-at-arms drew their swords.
“He won’t die,” the older farmer said. “We struck him a hunnert times.”
“Stand back,” Big said. “It’s an eternal.”
“Careful,” Flat Nose said. “They can steal your soul with a touch.”
“I know, dumbass.” Big held his shield in front of him and his sword at a low guard. “But I seen ’em die at King’s Crossing.”
Nidon pushed his horse forward. “Stop! Don’t kill him,” he shouted, his voice filled with battlefield command.
They all turned toward him, despite the eternal lying before them.
“Ride off, you,” Flat Nose said. “None of your business here.”
Nidon dismounted, just strides from them. He held his Idorian axe easily in his hand. “It is my business. Not all eternals are the same and this one needs to live.”
“You have three heartbeats to bugger off or you’re a dead man,” Flat Nose said. He raised his shield.
Nidon drew himself up. “Stop! I am Nidon, Champion of Salador. You will put up your arms and leave off that man.”
Flat Nose didn’t know what to make of him, it was clear. But behind him, Big thrust his sword at Morin’s still form. Morin just managed to raise his armored arm enough to deflect the blow so that it only slashed his helm.
Nidon couldn’t wait. His axe whirled and slammed into Flat Nose’s shield, driving it to the side. Before he could recover, Nidon reversed his weapon and drove its butt into the man’s exposed chest. Flat Nose stumbled backwards and fell into the ditch.
Big charged. He swung an overhead blow that Nidon parried with the axe blade. Nidon countered with a heavy blow to Big’s shield, driving him back.
“Yield!” Nidon yelled, but the man charged again. Big stabbed this time. He was fast, and Nidon barely parried the strike with the axe haft. Before he could counter, Big stabbed again.
Nidon parried the second blow, but the man was pressing him hard. And soon his friend would recover from the ditch and the fight would have to come to a bloody end.
Someone shouted behind Nidon. He had let himself get turned—his back was to Morin and the farmers. Big was good, but Nidon knew he had the man’s measure. Instead of parrying, Nidon dodged the next blow and slammed Big’s arm with his axe haft. Big didn’t lose his sword, but his guard was driven low. Knowing he was exposed, he raised his shield for the expected overhead blow.
It never came. Nidon went under the shield and swept Big’s legs. Big toppled, rolling into the opposite ditch. Nidon spun, his axe raised in a middle guard, but there was no opponent.
Morin stood there, his face a web of silver veins, his bloody sword in his hands.
Flat Nose was dead, as were the two farmers.
“What? How?” Nidon asked.
Morin’s visor was up, but his expressionless silver face was impossible to read. He marched toward Nidon and he took a better grip on his axe.
Instead of attacking, Morin pushed past Nidon and headed for Big. “Wait, Morin. You don’t have to—”
Big hadn’t managed to get out of the ditch. He raised his shield as Morin approached. Morin leapt, parrying the man-at-arm’s sword as he crashed into him. Morin wrenched the man’s shield aside and drove his sword through Big’s chest.
Without another look, Morin climbed from the ditch.
“You didn’t have to kill them,” Nidon said. “They were honest men of Salador.”
“Forget your honor, Nidon. Those days are gone.”
Morin knelt by Flat Nose and wiped his sword blade on the dead man’s cloak. “It is good you came upon us. I would be dead if not for you. And why are you here now? On this road?”
“You know why,” Nidon said. “The same reason as you. How did you find out about Hadde’s child?”
“You weren’t my only ally in the city, Nidon. The returnists didn’t all disappear when Akinos fell. And what will you do now? You are not Champion of Salador any longer. You are not even a knight. You are a hunted criminal. Does the queen know which way you rode?” Morin stood and faced Nidon, all hint of weakness gone. He gave no sign that he had been on the edge of death.
“She thinks me dead in the river.”
Morin nodded. “Good. Then it is better that these men are dead. Don’t even name yourself again. It will be better for you.”
“I am still Champion of Salador.” The words rang false even to him. He knew they were not true. I have one task left to do.
Morin laughed. “Champion? If you want that to happen, you need to ride with me. I am the only hope the world has. Take their weapons and armor. We are wasting time.”
Nidon looked away from Morin, looking from one corpse to the other. Could he ride with Morin as an ally? A man—a creature—who could do this? “These men deserve better than being stripped and left on the road.”
“Varcolac are on this road, Nidon. Ahead of us. They are going to kill Hadde and take my daughter.”
He was right, Nidon knew. They had to go.
“Nidon, I need you,” Morin said. “Cragor toys with the Orb. And when he explores its power, I am never safe. These peasants almost killed me. I need you to ride with me and protect me like you did now. I took too great a risk riding on the open road.”
“What are you really after, Morin? What are you really doing?”
Morin stepped closer to Nidon, their faces just two hand spans apart.
Morin’s silver skin glowed brightly now, no trace of black or grey remained.
“Those ignorant farmers nearly killed me, Nidon. And if I die, all hope is lost. Only I can save the world from Cragor.”
“Why can’t King Handrin save us? Or anyone with Forsvar. Why you?”
“Handrin is bound to his mother. Only I am free to act. And once Cragor learns to control the Orb, I will lose that freedom. Come, Nidon. Take their arms and join me.”
Nidon had looted his fair share of corpses over the years. It was part of war. Never had he found it so repugnant. But Big was his size and Nidon’s need was great. With Morin’s help Nidon was soon fully armed in the dead man’s harness.
Chapter Thirty-two
Hadde, Arno, and Calen rode to the keep’s gatehouse. Calen had his white dress-flag as before, but this time they did not ride so close.
“Will they come out?” Hadde asked.
“We’ll stay well out of range for now, I think,” Arno said. “Until they show themselves.”
Hazy smoke from the burned palisade still drifted over the keep. The destruction had been almost complete.
They waited a long time in the hot morning sun before a flag was raised in reply. And they waited still longer before the drawbridge lowered.
“You broke our peace,” Captain Saunder said when they met at the barricade. “Two of my men died.”
“You broke our peace when you commenced work on the palisade,” Arno said.
“Whose act was the worse? Now there is a breach in the wall where there was not one before. If you thought we were in the wrong you should have asked for a parlay that issues could be made right.”
“You have delayed long enough,” Arno said. “Baron Tomar has agreed to the exchange. He has sent a message stating that fact.” Arno nodded to Hadde and she rode forward to hand the letter over to one of Saunder’s men. “It has his seal.”
The soldier handed the letter to Saunder, but he didn’t break the seal. Instead, he tucked the letter under his belt. “I will have to discuss this with Baron Grax and Baroness Alma.”
“Very well. But we will only give you until sundown.”
“You must permit us to rebuild the palisade,” Saunder said. “And you must send two of your archers ba
ck to the forest and they may not participate in this siege.”
Arno shook his head. “No. We—”
“We accept,” Hadde said. “You may rebuild the palisade, but no stronger than it was before we put fire to it. We also lost two in the raid, so we will send no one back to the forest.”
Saunder gave her a nod. “We will raise a flag if we wish to parlay before night fall.” He paused a moment then said, “You are a bold one, coming out here in the open. You’ve killed a good few of my men. I had half a mind to have you shot from the saddle.”
Hadde sat up higher in her saddle. “So why didn’t you?”
Saunder nodded to the flag. “I respect that, for one. And I know what you fight for, and respect that as well.”
“So give back my daughter and Maret and Orlos. Let your actions speak for you.”
He nodded. “I’ll see what can be done. It is not all up to me.”
Without another word, the two groups parted.
“What was that, Hadde?” Arno demanded as their horses walked back to the safety of the town. “We had no reason to give in to their demands. They’ll seal the breach.”
“It was a mistake to burn it, Father. If they can’t defend the lower castle they will all move into the keep. We can never take the keep if they are all in it.”
“With that many people in the keep they will run out of food,” Calen said.
“But how long will it take?” Hadde asked. They rode around the corner of a building and Hadde felt a weight fall from her shoulders. The entire ride from the gate she had feared a bolt in her back. But Saunder’s words gave her some hope that Enna might come back to her.
“I still hold out that there will be a trade,” Arno said. “I am going to check on our sentries, and to make certain everyone knows that the Saladorans may repair the breech.” He said the last words with a pointed glance at Hadde.
“I will tell Tomar that his letter was delivered,” Hadde said. “Let’s hope they take the trade now.” It had taken some time to find a Landomeri who could read the letter, and even then it was not easily done. But she assured Hadde that the letter was innocent and simply asked for the exchange.
Hadde and Calen cantered for the farmstead that served as a camp for many of the Landomeri. It was larger now. Reinforcements constantly arrived; some by ones and twos, others in small hunting parties. Hadde saw Joymarre direct a half dozen Landomeri toward a corral.
“How did it go?” Joymarre asked.
“We gave them until nightfall. I hope they take our offer. I fear for the health of our friend.” She glanced over to the cottage where Tomar rested. There was a woman by the door. Hadde’s eyes widened in surprise. “Mother!” Hadde dismounted and ran to her mother, embracing her.
“Whoa! You’ll knock me over.”
“You shouldn’t be here,” Hadde said. “It isn’t safe for you.”
“Is that your way of greeting?” Enna took Hadde by her shoulders and met her eyes. “And it is safe for you?”
“I have to save my daughter.”
“And so do I. And more.”
Hadde frowned. “What do you mean? Why are you here?”
“Let’s step away,” Enna said nodding to the door. “I don’t want to keep my patient up.”
“How did you know of him? Why didn’t you come to find me?”
“Joymarre told me where you were, and what was happening.” Enna held Hadde firmly by the elbow and led her to the shade of a small tree.
“Your baron is not going to live,” Enna continued. “His wound has gone bad and his blood is poisoned.”
“Can you heal him?”
“No.” Enna frowned. “It is too late. The poison has spread too far.”
“We need him. We’re to trade him for Maret and the children.”
“I don’t know if he has that long.”
Hadde stared off at the keep. “Then the siege will go longer and their friends will arrive to save them. Unless we attack.”
“Then you will have to attack,” Enna said.
Hadde turned back to her mother. “That doesn’t sound like you.”
“It is the Way of the Forest to avoid bloodshed. But Helna knows that it cannot always be avoided. These foreigners have stolen our own. They threaten the Great Spirit who gives us life. We have no choice. I had to come and help.”
Hadde hugged her mother. “We will bring him home. All of them. But for you, Mother, you have to return to Landomere.”
“There is nothing to return to. The Great Spirit nourishes the everbloom and the great oaks. She feeds the springs of Belavil. But the springs have gone dry and the everbloom is dying. Even the trees suffer.
“My daughter and my husband, my friends are all here. I will stay here and help heal the wounded. I will be here until our fate is decided.”
“When we get the children, we will have to flee for the forest. It will be chaotic and dangerous.”
“I might have a limp, but I can still ride. And shoot.”
“Shoot?”
“I am an excellent shot!”
Hadde smiled. “If you say so. But I have to go. I want to check on… everything. I don’t think anyone knows exactly how many Landomeri are here. Or even what they are doing. We need some order.”
“You sound very Saladoran.”
“None of this was planned ahead.”
Hooves pounded closer and Hadde turned to see Fend approaching at a gallop. Joymarre and Calen joined Hadde and her mother as Fend reined in.
“The Saladoran reinforcements are coming,” Fend said. His breath came in heavy gasps. Fend’s head was bare and his hair disheveled and windblown. There was a cut on his cheek and his left eye was bruised. “They are riding hard. Maybe two hundred of them.”
“Two hundred?” Hadde’s heart sank. “When will they arrive?”
“Very late tonight if they do not stop. Tomorrow morning if they do. We killed a few of their outriders. One got lucky,” he said, touching his cheek.
“We need to slow them down long enough for us to attack the castle,” Hadde said. Her eyes went to Joymarre. “Can you do it?
“I am no horse archer,” she replied. “And many of my people aren’t mounted. You want a western Landomeri to lead this. You should go.”
Joymarre was right, but there was no way Hadde was going to leave the keep. “I can’t leave my daughter.”
“I will lead them,” Fend said.
“How many should we send?” Hadde asked aloud, and then wished she hadn’t. It made her look weak, not knowing.
“Fifty?” said Fend.
“We have to keep enough here to attack the keep.”
Fend glanced at the keep and then back to Hadde. “Less than fifty will not be enough if we want to hold them off for any time.”
“Very well,” Hadde said. “I’ll help you gather them. Don’t let the Saladorans in the keep see what we are up to. If fifty riders go off north all at once they’ll know relief is on the way.”
He gave her a wink. “They’ll never know we left.”
***
Hadde rode into the village and dismounted near her father and Calen. The sun had fallen below the horizon, but there was still light in the sky. “Fend is away,” she said. “He’ll try to hold the Saladorans off. What’s going on here? Did you speak with them?”
Arno shook his head. “They won’t speak with us. Calen waved his flag but they shot bolts in reply.”
“It is good for me they are poor shots,” Calen said, his voice devoid of humor.
“Dromost take them,” Hadde said. “They must know their friends are coming.”
“So what do we do now?” Calen asked.
“We can try again later,” Arno said. “If Fend and his riders can hold the Saladorans off long enough Baron Grax might lose heart.”
“Here comes Joymarre,” Calen said.
The huntress rode close and dismounted. “Bad news,” she said. “Baron Tomar is dead.”
“That
does it, then,” Hadde said. “We have to attack.”
“They’ll expect it.” Arno’s eyes met Hadde’s, his expression sad.
He knows the cost will be high.
“We must attack after true nightfall,” Hadde said.
“But not too late,” Arno said. “If our delaying force fails….”
Thunder rumbled in the distance. “Not a sound we want to hear,” Hadde said.
“Maybe it will pass,” Arno said. “Just a summer storm.”
“Forsvar is a Saladoran god,” Joymarre said. “Maybe he brings his lightning to help his allies.”
“The gods are gone,” Hadde and Arno said almost as one. She would have laughed if the time were not so serious. Joymarre gave them the same look Enna would have.
“We’ll attack the palisade. They’ve partially rebuilt it, but it’s the weakest part of their defense.”
“A lot of Landomeri will die trying to breach the wall,” Joymarre said.
“But we won’t. It will be a feint,” Hadde said. “At the same time we attack there, we will have archers shooting from all points around the keep. The real attack will be at the back door.”
Joymarre nodded. “It will be guarded, though.”
“It will. But I hope to take it by surprise.” Hadde paused as thunder sounded, closer this time. A stiff gust blew through the town. “We’ll draw their attention to the breach and to the arrows loosed against the walls. A small group will sneak up to the back door—a door that has seen better days. We’ll use pry bars and a team of horses to pull the door open.”
“It’s narrow. Only one person will fit through at a time,” Joymarre said.
“We’ll ask for volunteers and put them in our best armor,” Hadde said. “And when they get in they will seize the keep and search for Maret and the children.”
“How many?” Joymarre asked.
“Twenty,” Arno said.
“That doesn’t leave many for the attack on the palisade,” Hadde said.
“By my count it leaves fifty for the breach and thirty to shoot from around the keep.”
“We have that many?” Hadde asked, surprised at the number.