He nodded his head.
Yenene turned and nodded at Nahtan.
"What happened at Basiyr?" Nahtan asked Calan.
"He's got the last of his army outside the walls," Calan said. "We managed to sneak in and get into the keep. Apparently Korrie spent some time in an old hold outside Edgewind called Theryl Hold that was built about the same time as Basiyr Keep, so she had an idea where to find everything inside. We found Thorvald and his plans all in the same office." He tensed as Yenene began dripping a thick, dark liquid around the wound from a bottle.
"You took on Thorvald by yourself?"
"I certainly wasn't going to let any of them do it," Calan said, motioning toward Garren and Korrie. He jerked, pulling against Brijade's arm when Yenene made a quick cut into the wound, pulling back the skin. She worked quickly, pinching a fine white powder from one of the bags and sprinkling it over the wound. It began to bubble and turn into a frothy pink almost immediately. Calan took a second to catch his breath. "Korrie disobeyed me and snuck into the room, though. It turned out to be a good thing she did. After Thorvald got my side, that was when the priest started hissing or whatever he was doing."
"She killed the priest?" Nahtan asked next. He had a difficult time believing Korrie was capable of that. But he supposed people would do all kinds of things in desperate situations.
Calan nodded. "I didn't see it, but I heard a thump and her yell, then the priest dropped and whatever he was doing to me stopped. It distracted Thorvald just long enough for me to get him down without having to kill him."
Nahtan turned and glanced over where Korrie was standing by Garren, holding his hand and making sure to keep as far from Nahtan as she could while they watched Yenene work.
"And you're wrong about them, Your Majesty," Calan continued. "There's nothing going on between them, they're only friends."
"I wish I could believe that," Nahtan told him. He didn't trust Korrie, especially where Garren was concerned. Now that he was sure she'd stolen Mo'ani's fate from Yenene's packs, it gave him even less reason to trust her.
"You can take my word if you won't take your brother's," Calan told him. "But right now, nothing you've thought about them is true."
Nahtan frowned. "If the army's outside the walls, how did you get Thorvald out of the city?" he asked, changing the subject.
"That was all Korrie and Garren," Calan replied. "And Kenah. I was certainly in no condition to do much to help."
"Ye did plenty," Kenah said from behind Yenene as she continued to work quickly. Nahtan could see now what Lady Caya had meant when they first met. Yenene’s hands and fingers moved quickly, almost instinctively knowing where the worst of the damage was and what needed to be done to fix it.
"Yes, walking out was definitely hard," Calan told her. He pulled against Brijade's arm again, biting back a curse. He continued once he’d caught his breath. "They knocked out Thorvald, changed his clothes, smudged dirt on his face so nobody would recognize him, poured cheap ale over him, then propped him up in a wagon.” He took a couple of shaky deep breaths, pulling on Brijade’s arm. “They told the guards he was their drunk uncle that they'd found in the city and were taking home, then rode straight through the gates. I wore the armor I wore to get in, and walked out. Kenah's dressing on the wound to keep the bleeding under control is the only thing that made that possible." He tensed and tried not to pull away as Yenene pulled the wound closed and began the first of many stitches. "Yenene, I hope you'll forgive me if I'm not able to maintain a gentlemanly demeanor for much longer."
Yenene smiled at him. "I'm sure you at your worst is far better than others I've dealt with," she assured him. "Unfortunately, it's going to take a number of stitches to close this." Her fingers worked quickly, but Nahtan could see she was right and it was going to take quite a few stitches to close the wound completely.
"Thovald's got a broken collarbone," Calan managed after a few seconds.
"It's too bad His Majesty's healer's not goin' to have time to get to ye," Asher told Thorvald. "And I'm probably goin' to forget to tell my own that ye're injured."
"Why don't you just kill me and get it over with?" Thorvald demanded.
Nahtan turned and walked over, hitting him hard enough that he fell back to the ground, yelling a curse as he landed. Nahtan rolled him over and placed a boot on his shoulder, the pressure making Thorvald yell again as the broken bones ground against each other.
"Lord Asher and Lord Nivan have some things to discuss with you," Nahtan said, his voice low. "And when they're done and I get to you, you're going to wish I'd kill you." The burning in his chest flared up, spreading to his arms and hands with no effort at all. He removed his boot from Thorvald's shoulder and leaned over, grabbing the front of his tunic and pulling him back to his feet. He pulled off his glove, then grabbed his throat, tightening his grip and letting some of the Well's power course through him. Thorvald writhed against him, his cry strangled and pained. When Nahtan released him a second later, the sides of his neck were burned black where his fingers had been. "Now you know what I did to your soldiers at Olorun," Nahtan told him, his tone deadly. "And what I'll do to Basiyr."
Thorvald stared at Nahtan, and Nahtan realized there was fear in his eyes for the first time.
"Who are you?" Thorvald asked him.
Nahtan shook his head. "You should have asked that question before you stole my daughter." He turned and walked back to where Yenene was still stitching Calan's wound closed. "I suppose you think this is going to get your petitions approved faster when we get back to Herridon?" he asked Calan, trying to distract him again.
"I'd better get at least one of the new buildings approved," Calan told him.
"I might agree to the new inn," Nahtan told him. "But the tavern's still not staying open later."
"We should stay here until the army gets here," Yenene said over her shoulder to Nahtan. "He really shouldn't be riding. I'm sure Lady Caya will let us use her wagon for him."
Nahtan nodded.
Seven - "They were going to try to take my wall"
Cace leaned against the top of the wall, catching her breath. The church guards had sounded their retreat just seconds before and she, Rylen and two other Mo'ani had managed to push the last ladder from the edge of the wall.
"You should get that looked at," Rylen said, pointing his sword at her shoulder. A church guard had managed to get a dagger under her pauldron, getting a quick cut into her shoulder.
"As soon as you get that cut on the back of your neck looked at," she told him.
Their initial attack had yielded some success and caused heavy casualties to the church guards, but it had soon become apparent to all of them that something else was going on. Soldiers they knew they'd cut down were standing back up and returning to the fight. She, Rylen and Jaron had all come up against soldiers that once they'd run them through, what looked like marsh water had poured from their chests. Based on what they'd seen, Cace was willing to bet they had been men who had previously drowned in the sinkholes and mud traps.
Eventually Cace had ordered the withdrawal back to the hold and the Mo'ani and Dwellers had stood their ground there, holding back the church guards and keeping the hold secure. Cace had positioned archers to watch the river and keep any church guards from venturing there to keep them from finding the tunnel under the bridge. The rest of them concentrated on keeping the attackers away from the walls and trying to take out as many as they could from a distance.
It was only after dropping large amounts of flaming peat onto them that the church guards had finally retreated.
"I told you they were going to try to take down my wall," Cace told Rylen.
Rylen chuckled, wiping the blood from the back of his neck with a cloth he'd taken from inside his vambrace.
"They hath retreated from the east wall as well," Jaron said, joining them. "Hath either of thee been able to figure out how the dead are standing once more?" He carried his kora, the heavy, curved sword still
covered with blood. Cace noted both the edge and the point on the back were bloody, telling her he'd been using it to not only cut down enemies but to bludgeon them as well.
Cace shook her head. "No, usually once something dies in the marsh, you can't even find the body, let alone have to worry about it standing up again." She looked out where the church guards were still retreating from the flames. "I suppose it's reassuring that whatever it is, fire still repels it." She took a rag from her belt and wiped off her sword, then sheathed it.
"We should regroup and assess supplies while we have some time," Rylen suggested, sheathing his own sword. "Maybe try to get a little rest."
Cace turned to the Mo'ani further down the wall. "Keep the ballista firing," she ordered. "You see them building anything bigger than a vegetable cart, take it out."
"Yes, Ma'am," the Mo'ani nodded.
Apparently they'd come not expecting to have to fight their way through and had brought no siege weapons with them. While there was plenty of wood available in the forest to the east, any equipment the Mo'ani had seen them starting to build had been quickly disabled or destroyed.
Cace led Rylen and Jaron from the wall, then back to the keep.
"How many horses did you lose on that last charge?" she asked Jaron.
"A half dozen," he replied. "Making just over a dozen that hath fallen now. Most were unbonded, so while a loss to the herds, they did not cause any hazard to the Mo'ani."
"At least I don't have to worry about losing men from that," she sighed.
Inside the keep, she led them to the study they'd been using to coordinate attacks and make sure Valin's defenses were covered.
She dropped into one of the chairs, closing her eyes when she realized how sore every muscle in her body was. They'd been fighting on top of the wall for most of the morning. It had taken them longer than she'd anticipated to get a good number of church guards built up below the wall while still trying to keep them from breaking through or reaching the top.
While some tried breaking through the gates, others had tried scaling the walls. It had taken four to five Mo'ani at a time to push each ladder back, even using the long pronged staves they had to provide extra room.
Once the ground around the hold was filled with church guards, Rylen had given the order to start dropping the peat down. Huge baskets and barrels had been pushed over the walls, adding to what they'd already spread over the ground along with another covering of dried grass prior to the church guards' arrival. Many of the church guards had found themselves covered in it as it fell, confused what was raining down on them as it didn't seem to do any harm.
It wasn't until the archers started firing flaming arrows into it that they realized they were in trouble. When Cace started lighting the church guards at the top of the ladders on fire before pushing the ladders over, it only added to the quickly growing wall of flame below.
"How long hath thy flames bought us?" Jaron asked Cace. He was cleaning his kora, then sat down across from her.
"There's enough peat and grass out there it'll burn for a full day or two easily," she replied. "Once the flames die down, it'll smolder for days until it's gone."
"Too bad we can't get them into the peat bogs," Rylen said, taking a seat near the window. "Then we could just light the whole thing up."
Cace nodded at him. "We'd need to get them further east," she said. She reached over and pulled a large leather-bound book around to look at. The journal of a previous lord of Valin Hold, it contained a number of suggestions for defending the hold and had been where they'd gotten the plans for most of their traps.
She flipped through the pages, slowly skimming each one, looking for other ideas. Rial had left the book for her, and she was the only one who knew it had come from his personal library. It was one of hundreds of journals he had, both from previous lords and ladies of Valin, as well as many he'd collected from other places.
"The whole coming back from the dead is what's troubling me," she admitted. I'm getting really tired of having to kill these men two and three times." She'd finally gotten so fed up that she'd started cutting the heads off any she killed when possible just to make sure they stayed dead. While it cost her time in battle, she figured it was saving time overall because she wasn't going to have to worry about those guards standing back up again.
"I hath noticed that those with deep mortal wounds doth not return to the fight," Jaron stated as Rylen nodded. "Those trampled by the cavalry horses doth stand once more, but those pierced by arrow or blade through the head or heart doth not."
"There has to be something going on in their camp," Rylen said. "Zared's interfering somehow, he has to be."
"That does seem to be the only thing that makes sense," Cace said. She turned from the book to the maps. "The wolves are keeping them from the north wall," she noted. "The watch there reported two of the packs came down last night when a church guard scout group tried circling around that way, so we still have a way in and out."
"It would be nice if the wolves would venture further south," Rylen said.
"They've never come down past the north wall," Cace shook her head. "Whatever Lord Olorun did when he made them seems to keep them tied to that end of the woods."
"Hath thee an idea?" Jaron asked Cace.
"Working on one," Cace said. "We need to know what's going on with those guards." She looked at the maps, her eyes moving over the landmarks and paths through the marshes. She knew the land here by heart, and had learned to respect it as a living entity all its own. It had its own rhythms and cycles, something the church guards would have no way of knowing.
"You two work on getting ammunition and other supplies restocked for when those flames die down," she ordered. "I'm going to head out tonight and figure out what's going on." She wasn't about to ask anyone else to go do it. Even of the few other Mo'ani who knew the marshes well, she wouldn't ask them to take that high of risk. "I'll head out through the north gate and circle around. I'll get as close to their camp as I can and see if I can figure out what's going on there."
"That's too dangerous," Rylen told her. "We need you in here, you know the hold better than anyone else and you're the only one with the slightest idea how Lord Rial thinks to know what he ordered."
"Thy plan hath considerable danger," Jaron agreed. "Risk to thyself is too great considering thy importance here."
Cace shook her head to them. "In the first place, there are only about a half dozen Valin Mo'ani who know the marshes that well. In the second place, I'm the only one who knows them in the dark." She stood up from her chair. "I'm going to go get some rest, I'll head out the north gate after dark. You've got at least a full day before the flames die down, use it." She turned and left the study, returning to her room in the keep.
Removing her armor and sword, she washed up then laid down, exhaustion forcing her to sleep even when her mind didn't want to stop working.
Cace adjusted the buckle on her shield, making sure it was fitted right on her shoulder over her cloak. She'd changed to a heavy leather armor to cover her torso, but decided against any on her arms and lower legs. She knew she was going to be wading through the marsh, and didn't want the weight slowing her down or getting her stuck.
Rylen handed her his flint.
"Signal if you need help," he told her. "I'll find someone who can get to you."
"You've got the list of names of the Mo'ani who know the marshes," she told him. "I should be back before the flames die down anyway."
Rylen nodded and whistled up at the top of the wall. After a minute, a whistle sounded in return, letting them know the area outside the north gate was clear. The soldiers by the gate started pushing the wheels to open it, and Cace slipped through as soon as it was open far enough. The gate lowered again behind her and she turned to head for the tree line to the north.
Once inside the cover of the woods, she turned to the east. She'd follow the trees for cover for a short distance before working her way south and around
to the marshes. On foot, she figured it was going to take her close to three hours to circle the hold and stay out of sight.
She hadn't gone far when a low growl from ahead startled her, causing her heart to skip a beat. Her heart started racing when a large grey wolf stepped from around a small group of trees. She stopped, waiting for the wolf to figure out who she was. They always seemed to know when it was someone from Valin, but sometimes it took them a few minutes, especially when there had been church guards around.
She stood as still as she could, not bothering to draw her sword. Even though the wolf appeared solid, she knew it would be impossible to kill. The wolf stood still for a moment, looking up at her. It was something in the eyes; every wolf she'd seen from the ghost packs here had it, something deep that connected them to this world as more than just an apparition.
The wolf approached her, still growling. He circled her, sniffing at her boots, then her legs. As he came around to her side, he sniffed her hand.
The wolf circled her again, still growling. She heard it stop when it was behind her, its growl finally growing silent. She jumped slightly when she heard the howl start, low and sorrowful, then rising in volume until she had to cover her ears with her hands. As the wolf's howl died away, she turned to look over her shoulder, but all trace of the wolf was gone.
She took a slow breath, trying to calm her nerves. How Lord Rial could be comfortable out here with them, she had no idea. But she'd seen him ride into the woods and a number of the wolves come to him willingly.
The rest of the way through the north side of the woods went without any further sightings of the wolves. She figured the one’s howl must have spread the word to the others that she was there and from Valin.
When the woods turned south, she followed them, taking extra care when the area opened up around the couple of roads that led back into the forest and hills. She traveled now with her sword drawn, knowing the danger was greater here. More than once she was forced to stay secluded and wait for patrols to pass.
Basiyr: Chronicles of Nahtan: Book 6 (The Herridon Chronicles) Page 13