The Winds of Strife (The War of the Veil Book 1)

by John Donlan

  “Aye, but if we do not deal with the first, the second will not matter.” She had not forgotten the potential threat from east and west, but she could not think about it yet. It was distant, remote, while the danger in the mountains was far closer to home.

  “Find your tent,” she said. “Rest.”

  She left Kindrey alone and went to find her own tent. The hide structure had been erected in the middle of the camp, near to the fire pit that the men were digging out. The other tents had been arranged around it, to protect it from any encroaching dangers. Other than the Frendrith, she was not duly concerned. The wolves in the mountains would not approach such a large gathering of men; nor would the bears. They would be safe.

  Two men had already taken up position outside her tent. They bowed to her as she pushed her way inside. Jaran was waiting for her.

  “My Queen. I apologise for the intrusion, but I come to ask your leave to scout the area before darkness falls fully. And to request permission to stand watch for the night.”

  “All of the night?” Lysena arched her brow. “I need you awake and alert tomorrow, Captain.”

  “And so I will be,” Jaran replied. “I have gone more than one night without sleep before, on the field of battle, and I am not too old that I cannot do it again if needed. It would set my heart at ease to know that your rest was being protected.”

  She sighed. “As you wish, Jaran. “I have no doubt that you would do it even if I said no, so there is little point in denying your request. And I admit, I will feel safer knowing you are watching.”

  He smiled softly. “Thank you, my queen. If I find anything, I will let you know.”

  He was almost out of the tent when Lysena stopped him. “Thank you,” she said. “For your loyalty, and for doing what I have asked of you.”

  He frowned, then nodded. “I will always been by your side,” he said. “No matter what.”

  Then he was gone, leaving Lysena alone with her thoughts.

  * * *

  Lysena awoke sometime during the night, her body chilled to the bone despite the thick furs that covered her bed. Her dreams had been dark and surreal, filled with vague, formless shapes that haunted her in a black and lurid landscape. She shivered and sat up quickly in her bedroll.

  She had heard something. A scream. It took a moment for that to register, but when it did, she threw her blankets aside and raced out of the tent to find a scene of chaos and confusion.

  One of her guards was lying face down in the snow beside the fire. His body was a vague outline, thrown into stark relief against the bright glow of the flickering flames. She could see a pool of dark blood spreading away from his body, though the darkness concealed the wound that had caused his demise.

  The rest of her men were standing around, dazed and in shock, shouting at one another, trying to understand what had happened. Lysena looked to the side and saw Jaran standing nearby, sword in hand. His face was pale and his mouth was slack. He was staring ahead, to a point beyond the fire and the dead body. Puzzled, Lysena turned her head to follow his gaze, and that was when she saw it.

  It looked different than it when she had first saw it in the cabin. Back then, it had been a formless black shape, indistinct and hazy and without substance. Now, she could see that it had taken on features. It hovered above the fire, still as black as night, but with lights swirling through it; blue and green and yellow, flashing and twisting in the bulk of its shape. The thing had a head now, too, and stretched across it like a mask of flesh was a face; a face unlike any she had ever seen before. It seemed to crawl and writhe as though with a life of its own, constantly twisting into new, strange shapes and expressions. Just looking at it now made her want to scream with horror and rip her eyes from her head.

  The face was milky pale and almost translucent enough to see through. The eyes were nothing more than ragged holes, blazing with terrible life. The mouth was a thin slit, and through it she could see infinite blackness, the kind that she could imagine existing beyond this world. As she watched, small bubbles of flesh expanded from the pale face and burst, emitting small grub like creatures that dropped to the ground and twisted like maggots.

  Lysena staggered away, clutching at her throat. The terror she had felt in the cabin came rushing back a thousand times more strongly, like a flood down the banks of a river, and for a moment she could not breathe. Her chest erupted with pain, making her legs almost buckle beneath her.

  Jaran was suddenly before her, clutching her shoulders. “Do not look at it, my queen,” he hissed. His face blocked her view, and for that she was thankful. She nodded once, drew in a breathe as deeply as she could, and felt the agony in her chest start to fade. She straightened and pushed him aside with her arm. He moved, though his face twisted in anguish.

  The Frendrith was staring at her. Or perhaps through her, seeing the terror that was squirming like a living beast inside her body. She stared back, unwilling to let the fear take her fully again. She had to be strong. She was a queen.

  The Frendrith opened its mouth and a scream burst from those terrible lips. It was an unearthly sound and could never have come from anything living. Lysena covered her ears to try and block it out, but it lasted only a moment. The Frendrith suddenly whirled forward a few feet before twisting down and then somehow merging with the body of the guard.

  Lysena watched in horror as the Frendrith seemed to vanish completely. The corpse twitched once, then convulsed, and then began to rise slowly to its feet.

  “Gods preserve us all!” It was Kindrey. Lysena had not noticed the old loremaster before, but she saw him now, standing just outside his tent, staring at the sight in awe and shock. His entire body was shaking like a leaf on the end of a branch and seemed ready to collapse into a heap at any moment. One hand was clutched against his chest and the other was pressing over his mouth in abject horror.

  The corpse of the guard got up slowly, jerking and twitching like a rag doll as it did so. The movements were not smooth or fluid as they would have been with a living man. To Lysena, it seemed as though the thing inside the body was trying to adjust to unfamiliar mechanisms and doing a poor job of it. The dead face of the guard turned slowly to stare at her and a moment later, the whole body followed suit.

  “Queen…. Lysena….”

  The voice coming from the dead mouth of her guard shocked Lysena perhaps even more than the corpse rising from the ground had. She felt her blood run cold at the sound of that sinister voice. To Lysena, it sounded ancient, cold, inhuman, and above all, lacking anything close to resembling compassion. The thing that was controlling the body had no understanding of such concepts. And somehow, it knew her name.

  “Who… who are you?” she whispered. Her voice did not carry far. Even Jaran, standing rooted to the spot beside her was unlikely to have heard her, but the Frendrith did. The corpse took a staggering step forward and then paused again.

  “I come to warn...” the creature said, and once more, Lysena felt as though an icy hand was caressing her body from head to foot. The sound of its voice seemed to worm its way into her soul and take up residence there. “The endless hunger… she rises… darkness follows in her wake...”

  Lysena frowned, despite her fear. The endless hunger? That sounded familiar to her. She had heard the phrase somewhere before. But for the moment, she could not place it.

  “I do not understand,” she said. She made to move closer to the Frendrith, but Jaran’s hand closed over her arm, pulling her to a stop. “Please… tell me what you mean!”

  The Frendrith twitched, head twisting from side to side. “She will consume… all… be ready...”

  Still it made no sense to Lysena, but it seemed that it was all she would get. The head of the corpse flung backwards and the eyes bulged almost to the point where it looked as though they would pop out of the sockets. The mouth opened wide in a silent scream, and a moment later, the black shape of the Frendrith rushed out of the cavity like a roaring wind. Lysena covered her eyes
, cowering away from the raw energy of the creature as it swept upwards into the sky.

  When she lowered her arm again, the air was still once more, and the Frendrith was gone.

  Lysena shuddered and almost collapsed. Jaran caught her in his strong arms and she leaned against him thankfully. All around her, the soldiers who had been silent throughout the exchange seemed to gather themselves and exchange horrified glances amongst themselves.

  “My queen...” Kindrey was hurrying towards her, his face pale, even in the glow of the fire. “What it said…!”

  “You understood the warning? I feel as though I should understand it, but… I do not. It is like a thought trying to form in my mind, but blown apart like leaves in the wind. What does it mean?”

  “It means we are all in peril, your majesty,” Kindrey said as he reached her side. “It may very well mean the end of everything.”

  Twenty-Four

  Needra passed through the gates of the castle, lost in thought. The journey back from the farm had been made in silence. Torelle had been moody and not given to talking. Needra understood. She had wanted to go with Darius, too. She had known what he was going to find in the swamp, the same thing she had seen all those days ago when she had hidden in the morass, herself, shaking with fear while her former master and the guards that were supposed to protect them had been slaughtered. Not for the first time, she wished that she could speak again so that she could tell him about the danger. Without words, she had been unable to find the means to express the horror she had witnessed.

  Not that it would have made much of a difference. Would he even have believed her story about the faceless monsters? She doubted it. He would have still wanted to see for himself, and he still would have gone. Perhaps this way was better. Torelle was here, where it was safe, and Darius could fight. He could defend himself. She told herself that over and over, like a mantra, but she still did not believe it. In her heart, she feared that she had already seen him for the last time.

  She glanced to her side as they dismounted from the horses and watched Torelle. The woman was frowning and staring back through the gates as though eager to return to the swamp and find her brother. Needra felt the same urge. It had persisted all during the ride back here. She wanted to find him and pull him away. He had been kind, and she wanted to return that kindness in the only way she could, by keeping him safe.

  “My lady!” One of the guards hurried forward, flanked by two others, surprised at seeing the two women alone and without escort. “Where is lord Darius? Is he...”

  Torelle waved his questions away briskly. “Gather as many men as you can,” she said. “They are needed in the swamp. My brother has found those responsible for the butchery, and he needs aid in apprehending them. Quickly now, there is no time to waste.”

  The guard hesitated for only a moment and then saluted and rushed away.

  Torelle turned to Needra, her expression calculating. “I am going with them,” she said flatly. “If my brother is in danger – and I believe that he is – then I want to be there to see that he is safe. You… you should remain here. He is not your concern after all, and you will be out of harm’s way in the castle.”

  Needra shook her head quickly, pointed to Torelle and then back to herself. She had no intention of remaining behind. She knew that there would be little she could actually do to help, but she wanted to be there nonetheless.

  Torelle smiled softly at her. “I am glad. I will be happy of the company.”

  They waited in silence for the guards to gather. Rain was falling more heavily, and overhead, the sky was darkening as the day drew to a close. Night was fast approaching, and by the time they returned to the swamp, it would be fully dark. Needra shivered at the thought of going back into the marshes to face those horrors at night.

  The horse whinnied and Needra lifted her hand to settle the beast’s nerves. She had never ridden a horse before today, but she had taken to it quickly and found that she actually enjoyed it. She trusted animals far more than she trusted people.

  “What is taking them so long?” Torelle muttered a moment later. “I made it plain that we were in a...”

  Her words were halted as a cry rose up from within the castle walls. It was short and filled with terror. One of the guards.

  Needra felt her palms grow clammy with dread, but before she even realised she was doing it, she had taken a step towards the doors of the castle. Torelle reached out for her and grasped her wrist. “Wait… we do not...”

  The doors burst open and one of the guards staggered out, blood dripping from the ragged wound that had opened up in his chest. Needra felt sick as her eyes took in the gruesome sight. His ribcage had been opened up like the petals of a gruesome flower just blooming, and for the briefest of moments, she thought she could see his internal organs, glistening wetly inside the horrible cavity.

  She turned away, sick to her stomach. In her mind, she was back in the swamp again, cowering in the foliage, watching as those things cut down the men she had been travelling with.

  “In Naedorn’s name!” Torelle breathed, her voice low and filled with fear. Her eyes were wide, her face drained of blood, and Needra could feel the woman’s hand trembling as it gripped her arm. “What is going on?”

  Needra knew the answer to that question the moment it was asked. They had found her. Somehow, they had tracked her here, and they intended that she should die. With barely a thought, she pulled free of Torelle, rushed forward, bent, and retrieved the guard’s sword from where it lay on the ground. The man had been able to draw it, apparently, but not to use it. There was no blood anywhere on the blade. She clutched the hilt in her hand and turned back to Torelle.

  Torelle was standing rooted to the spot, unmoving, shaking with fear and her mouth hanging open and slack. It would be up to Needra to make sure they lived, and she knew that the only way they would do that would be to hide. To try and fight would be pointless. If trained soldiers could not win against these monsters, what use would they be?

  She grabbed Torelle by the hand and pulled her towards the gates in the castle’s outer walls, and the city beyond. If they could get down into the maze of streets, they might stand a chance. They could find a place to hide and wait for help. Perhaps.

  “What are you doing?” Torelle finally seemed to snap out of her daze. She yanked her hand away angrily and half-turned towards the castle again. Needra spun her around frantically and shook her head. She lifted the sword and pointed the tip towards the city.

  Torelle hesitated. Needra could almost hear the gears whirring in the young woman’s mind. She wanted to go into the castle, to help her men. She felt a duty towards them, and her heart was being pulled in two directions. But going inside would be inviting death. Even now, Needra could hear more screams, the clash of steel, shouts, roars of pain. The castle guard were fighting back. Perhaps they might even win. There were over a hundred armed men within the castle, or so Darius had said, and more garrisoned in the barracks in the city. Enough to put up an armed resistance against the things that were attacking. They might win, if the attackers were few in number, but Needra and Torelle would not be of any help in the battle.

  She yanked Torelle towards the gate again, still shaking her head, wishing desperately that she could yell out and warn the other woman of what they were facing. Torelle went with her this time. Maybe it was the sound of the alarm bells that were ringing out from the castle and echoing over the city at last that convinced her, or maybe it was simply that the sounds of battle were getting closer to the castle doors.

  Needra ran then, and was relieved to hear Torelle rushing after her. They reached the gates of the castle just as a dozen men darted into the castle grounds. They were from the inner city guard post, those stationed closest to the castle, and would normally have been the last line of defence against invaders trying to reach the castle. Now they had become the reinforcements for those who were already fighting to the death.

  “Lady Torelle!�
�� The sergeant of the guards joined the two women as they reached the gates, confusion twisting his face. “What is happening? Are we under attack? What of Lord Darius?”

  Torelle shook her head at the questions. “I do not know. Darius is not here. And I… I do not know who is attacking. But the castle is breached. There is fighting… some are dead already. Somehow, they got inside without anyone seeing them.”

  The man’s face hardened and he waved the rest of his forces forward. They rushed towards the castle, grimly determined. Needra wondered if they would be so eager if they knew what they were about to face within those walls.

  The sergeant remained behind. He had drawn his sword and was standing over the two women protectively. “I will take you to safety. The alarm will bring the outer garrison in time, but until then, we must get you away from the castle my lady. You and your maid.”

  Needra might have frowned at being termed a maid, but anger over the comment was the last thing on her mind. The soldiers were already pulling open the doors to the castle. The things would be on the other side, waiting to surge out.

  The sergeant, perhaps understanding the danger, beckoned for the two women to start moving again and took up a rear, defensive position as they all hurried away through the gates.

  The alarm had brought confusion and panic to the streets of the city. Most citizens thought that the danger would be coming from outside, not inwards, and only those closest to the castle seemed to understand that the danger was already here. Those further along the street were milling about in bewilderment, looking back and forth along the cobbles in an effort to understand what they were facing. More were streaming out of the houses and shops, flooding the streets. Soon, the crowd would be so large as to make passage through the city almost impossible.

  “Go to the guard post,” the sergeant said, pointing with his sword along a street to the right. “It is fortified, and I left two men there to guard against any potential attack from outside the city. Please, my lady. It is the safest place. When the garrison forces arrive, I will have them escort you outside the walls until your brother returns.”