“Finally, a light at the end of the tunnel,” Stone quipped.
They moved forward more quickly, instinctively wanting to reach the source of light. What they found surprised them. The tunnel ended in a small farmhouse. They flipped open the metal latch and pushed open the door. The house looked like it had been used recently, but the roof was caved in, like most of the other structures near Ort City.
“Damn monsters,” Stone said.
“At least the tunnel isn’t blocked,” Lorik said, then he turned to the volunteers who had come with him. “Get us a safe passage out of this wreckage. If we have to use the tunnel, we can’t be slowed down climbing through here.”
Stone followed Lorik out of the house. There were heavy beams of wood and roughhewn shingles littering the small house. They had to make their way carefully through the debris, and then they were able to step outside into the weak, winter sunlight.
“I hope I never have to go back down there,” Stone said, shivering.
“That tunnel may save our lives.”
“Can you tell where we are?”
The sun was still rising, so Lorik knew they had been traveling northeast. They had to circle around the small house to see the city in the distance almost three miles away.
“It could work,” Lorik said.
“It isn’t due north, but at least the tunnel doesn’t lead south.”
We’ll move our horses here,” Lorik said. They can be corralled here on the north side of the farmhouse.”
“It’s a good plan,” Stone said. “The city’s battlements are strong.”
“I just hope the witch’s army can’t fly over the walls like the Leffers did.”
“Do you think that’s a possibility?”
“I think we have to prepare for it,” Lorik said. “Prepare for the worst and hope for the best.”
“Well, you better get me something to eat or you’re going to see the worst of me,” Stone said.
Chapter 16
For two days, Josston was a perfect example of civility and charm. He spent hours riding beside Queen Issalyn along the rough trails that seemed to wind through the wild, overgrown countryside. They talked of her life in Ort City, but Josston’s humility was such that he rarely spoke of his past or his accomplishments for King Ricard. The temperature warmed slightly, turning the dirty snow into mud that seemed to cling to everything it touched. Josston and his men were used to life in the open; they made camp and built fires, even when it seemed there was no dry ground to be found and no wood that wasn’t too sodden to burn.
Queen Issalyn was infatuated by her dashing host’s attention. Never before had a man seemed so interested in her. He wanted to know what she did, how she felt, and even what she was thinking. Her guilt over flirting with Josston was ignored until it bothered her less and less. When she thought of Lorik, it was with a sad sense of loss. She had been captivated by Lorik, but now that she was so far away from him, her hopes for a future with the mighty warrior seemed like dreams that faded with the rising sun.
On the third day of their trip north to Forxam, Issalyn’s small guard began to raise questions about their direction. The queen thought that the trails were so crooked, first running one way, then switching back and going in the opposite direction, that it was impossible to discern exactly what direction they were traveling. She put her trust in Josston, since he was hurrying back to report to King Ricard and he obviously knew the land. The following day her own shieldmaidens began to doubt their host. It almost seemed like they were avoiding the small villages and towns, taking needless detours and stretching the journey. Queen Issalyn was flattered at first, assuming that Josston was perhaps prolonging their trip to spend more time with her, but eventually she began to have concerns.
On the evening of their fifth day, shortly after they made camp near a swollen stream that rushed noisily along the riverbed, she overheard Josston talking to his men. He was angry and said they needed to push further east. When he came to join her for dinner, she asked him why they needed to go east.
“Are we really traveling east?” she asked. “I thought Forxam was to the north.”
“It is,” Josston said. “But unfortunately the rivers are at flood stage and there are no safe bridges directly north. I had thought we would have found one by now, but it appears we need to move a little off course to keep her ladyship safe.”
“How would you traverse the rivers without me?”
“We could swim the rivers, but it is dangerous and hard on our horses. I would not dare put you through such a difficult ordeal. I don’t think King Ricard would take the news of your injury or death very well.”
“I appreciate your concern,” Queen Issalyn said. “But we need to move as quickly as possible. King Ricard must know the danger Ortis is in and our great need for his help.”
“As you wish, my lady,” Josston said, but his voice was cold and there was a hint of anger in it.
They ate a meal of stale bread and stewed vegetables. Everyone was tired and soon turned in for the night. The next morning, when Queen Issalyn and her maidens awoke, their volunteer guard was gone.
“What has happened to my guard?” Queen Issalyn asked.
“They have gone ahead, to hunt and scout,” Josston explained. “They insisted that they find the safest path ahead for you, my lady. It was a chivalrous deed to be certain.”
“Of course,” Issalyn said, but in her heart a shadow had formed.
She didn’t speak of her concerns to her shieldmaidens, who were really just castle servants who had taken up arms to protect their queen, but she could see the same worries written on their faces. Issalyn tried to put on a brave face to reassure them, but the shadow of fear in her heart only grew as the day progressed.
They continued traveling east, staying on winding trails and avoiding even the smallest communities. As afternoon began to shift into evening, Queen Issalyn asked after her guard.
“We haven’t seen them,” Josston said. “They may have fallen into some trouble. The valleys here about can sometimes flood unexpectedly, and the rivers have strong currents this time of year.”
“But surely they aren’t all lost,” she argued.
“They may be I’m afraid. All we can do is continue moving and hope they find us.”
“We should search for them.”
“That would only prolong our journey; I’m afraid I can’t allow it.”
Queen Issalyn was shocked.
“You can’t allow it?” she asked, fear and anger rising up and making her voice sound strange in her ears.
“That is right. I have a duty to get you safely to Forxam. I’m sorry about your guard, but they were volunteers after all, merely farmers with swords. They may have gotten in over their heads.”
“All the more reason to go in search of them. Your men know this land. Surely they could find four men on horseback.”
“Normally, I would agree, but in this case, I feel it is best if we stay here and guard you. If your guards fell in with bandits, we could be in mortal danger as we speak.”
“Sir, I must insist.”
“Enough,” Josston said loudly. “We will push on and that is all I will hear on the matter.”
“No,” Queen Issalyn said.
“Must I remind you that you are no longer in Ortis. I give the orders here, not you. Unless you wish to be treated roughly, you will do as I say.”
“How dare you?” Issalyn said, but she knew that she had no hope of escaping Josston or his men. They would cut down her shieldmaidens easily and then she would be completely at their mercy.
“I am a man,” he said smugly. “I do whatever the hell I dare, simply because I can. Now move!”
It was well past nightfall when they finally made camp. The men who were escorting them no longer pretended to be civil. Queen Issalyn’s maidens were locked in chains and made to sleep on the muddy ground. Josston and two other men left the camp and Queen Issalyn was guarded by a gruff lookin
g man with a thick beard and a round belly. She sat quietly by the small fire that had been kindled and was forced to cook for her captors.
In her mind, she replayed everything she could remember about Josston. She had taken him for a noble, believed everything he told her and followed him without question. That had obviously been a mistake. She chastised herself for letting a handsome man deceive her so easily. Guilt over her flirtations with Josston brought tears to her eyes. If she’d been more faithful to Lorik, she thought to herself, perhaps she wouldn’t be in such a mess.
She was convinced now that her guards had been killed. She should have taken more time to investigate when they suddenly disappeared, not that knowing their fate would have changed hers. She was a woman lost in the wilderness of Baskla, with vile men would do no telling what to her and the faithful servants who had so bravely tried to protect her.
She fell asleep well past midnight, her tired mind finally giving into the only respite from her guilt and fear. Her dreams were terrifying. Over and over again, she dreamed of Lorik’s death. When she was awakened early the next morning, she was sure he was dead or would be soon enough. She had failed in her mission to bring King Ricard’s army south and now Lorik would face the witch’s horde all alone.
She had expected to be on the move early again, but Josston was nowhere in sight. The men guarding her and the shieldmaidens had roused her so that she could prepare more food. Their rations were meager to say the least. She heated meat and onions in a cast iron skillet. There was stale bread, and she was forced to cut the mold from the cheese. The men ate, sparing nothing for the queen or her maidens who were forced to eat the dry bread plain.
It was almost noon when Josston returned. He had dark circles under his eyes and only one of the men who had left with him returned. The man was leading a terrified looking young girl. The girl was shaking visibly, either from the cold or from shock, Issalyn couldn’t tell. She looked to be in her middle teens, with thick red hair and pale skin. When she saw Issalyn and the other maidens, her eyes grew wide.
“What is this?” Issalyn asked. “Why have my maidens been locked in chains all night?”
“Don’t start,” Josston said. “Mount up,” he ordered his men.
“Wait,” Issalyn demanded. “What are you doing?”
“Are you really so spoiled that you do not recognize a kidnapping when you see one, your highness?” Josston said mockingly.
His men laughed as one pushed Issalyn roughly toward her horse.
“What about my maidens?” she asked.
“What about them?”
“They can’t ride with shackles on,” Issalyn argued, as the big man hoisted her roughly into her saddle.
“They won’t be riding,” Josston said.
“You can’t leave them here, they’ll die.”
“I don’t care what they do,” he said. “They can keep up, or they can die. It’s really up to them.”
The horses that the shieldmaidens had ridden from the refugee camp in Ortis were led away. The young, red headed girl was sat on the front of her captor’s horse. Issalyn turned to see her maidens as they huddled together. She could see their chains were heavy and she knew it was very unlikely that they would be able to keep pace with Josston’s men on horseback.
“Find help,” Issalyn called to them.
Then, the big man who had been tasked with watching her lashed out. His hand smashed into the side of her face, whipping her head around violently and causing bright sparks to dance in her vision. She swayed precariously in the saddle and the man had to take hold of her arm to ensure that she didn’t fall. Issalyn heard her maidens weeping as the horses carried her further along the rough trail. It was the last she ever saw of them.
Chapter 17
By evening the castle was secure. The escape tunnel had been searched and checked again for traps, but there were none. Lorik had sent their horses to the small farm at the end of the tunnel. He only hoped it was far enough away from the city that it wouldn’t be noticed. There were lookouts on each of the tall watchtowers, but so far no sign of the enemy army had been spotted.
Vanz and Vera searched the city, finding animals that had broken free of their cages and pens roaming the empty buildings. He and Vera had stockpiled food, ale, wine, water, and anything that could be used for medical supplies. The volunteers were assigned to different parts of the castle walls. The city was too large to defend, and in truth the castle was too, but it could be managed, at least for a short time. And time was their greatest asset. Lorik knew that he needed to buy as much time for the mobilization of King Ricard’s army. He guessed that Queen Issalyn was in the Baskla royal palace by now. He couldn’t understand why he felt so uneasy about her, she was much safer in Forxam than anywhere in Ortis. Still, whenever she crossed his mind he felt a deep, instinctive need to race north and protect her.
He told himself that he was doing the best thing for her by slowing the enemy army, but that felt hollow somehow. He guessed that the witch’s army could go around Ort City, but the main road ran north from Yorick Shire straight into Ort City. It was true that most of the citizens had abandoned their capital and were camped far to the north, but the witch’s army couldn’t possibly know that. They would have no choice but to come to Ort City and make sure the kingdom’s capital was secure.
They ate well that night, choosing to forego the massive feasting hall and eating instead in the servant’s quarters near the kitchen. None of the volunteers who had marched south with Lorik had been to court, they were farmers and apprentices, so they felt more at ease in the small, nondescript servants area.
There was a fireplace at one end of the room, which was about the size of an inn’s common room. Lamps stood on sconces along each wall, and tall candelabra's held bee’s wax tapers that burned brightly on the long, wooden table that took up the center of the room.
The volunteers had to take turns coming in to eat. Food was taken out to the men watching over the horses and up to the men on guard in the watchtowers. Lorik sat near the fire, enjoying its warmth as he nursed a cup of wine.
“You look as sour as green crab apples,” Vera said, sliding onto the same bench that Lorik rested on. “What has you so discouraged?”
“Yes, what is there to be so gloomy about?” Stone said, settling on Lorik’s other side.
Everyone had eaten and most of them were talking loudly, sharing stories and laughing heartily. Stone and Vera had spent most of the evening huddled together. Lorik had given them space, knowing they had a lot to talk about.
“I’m just anxious, that’s all,” Lorik said.
“Anxious for what?” Vera asked.
“For what I know is coming. I can feel it the way Chancy could feel a storm coming in his arthritic knees.”
“You’re anxious for a witch’s army to arrive and besiege the city?” Vera asked again.
“No,” Lorik said.
“You’re anxious for battle,” Stone said, slapping him heartily on the back.
“Is he drunk?” Lorik asked Vera.
“Maybe just a little,” Stone said.
“Maybe more than a little,” Vera said.
“Damn it, I need you sober and alert.”
“He’s entitled to indulge a little. He told me you know our news.”
“I do,” Lorik said, feeling guilty that he hadn’t mentioned it to her before. “I’m sorry, you’re right of course. Congratulations. I should have said something earlier, I’ve just been distracted. Forgive me.”
“There’s nothing to forgive,” Vera said, placing a hand on Lorik’s shoulder. “It was a surprise, but a pleasant one.”
“You’ll be a wonderful mother,” Lorik said.
“I doubt that,” Vera replied. “I’d be surprised if we live long enough to be parents.”
“Don’t talk like that,” Lorik said. “I tried to get him to take you north when I heard.”
“We won’t leave you; it’s not even a possibility, so
just forget it. But you don’t have to hope the enemy gets here any sooner than they will. Our mission is to slow them down, remember?”
“I’m just anxious to know what we’re up against, that’s all. I hate not knowing.”
“Whatever they are, we’ll stop them,” Stone said, his words slurring together as he leaned on Lorik’s massive shoulder. “You should know that by now.”
“I know that you need to go sleep it off. You’re setting a bad example for the others.”
“Nonsense,” he said loudly. Then he turned to the long table and raised his glass of ale. “Here’s to the future. Vera and I are having a baby and I’ll be damned if any witch’s army is going to stop us.”
The volunteers cheered and laughed. Lorik couldn’t help but smile at his friend’s excitement.
“Well,” he said to Vera. “There’s no guessing at how he feels, is there?”
“No,” Vera said. “He’s more excited than I thought. I should have told him sooner and I would have if I’d known how he would react. We haven’t ever even talked about starting a family. I never considered it a possibility, really.”
“It is surprising news,” Lorik said. “Has something changed? I mean physically, are you doing something different?”
“Do you mean am I trying to get pregnant?” she asked. “No, I just assumed after years in Hassell Point earning my living the way I did, that having a baby was impossible.”
“Did the wizard do something to you? He healed Stone’s leg.”
“Perhaps he did something to Liam,” Vera said. “Something more than healing his leg, I don’t know. He did nothing to me. Not that I’m aware of.”
“Strange,” Lorik said. “But good. In fact, it’s great. I’m so happy for you.”
“It makes me miss my parents,” she said, her voice low. “And yours. They would have been so happy.”
“Yes, they would have loved the baby so much,” Lorik agreed.
They sat staring at the fire for a few moments, Stone swaying on the bench as if they were on a ship in rough seas.
Lorik The Defender (The Lorik Trilogy) Page 14