“They will be destroyed anyway if Bredych wins.” Ilythra brushed a lock of hair from her eyes.
“But there will be a chance to rebuild. The earth will be whole. Ealois is not a weapon like the other two. It merely gives me the knowledge I need. It helps me to see far behind at what has happened and to the almost limitless possibilities ahead. At times, it binds me as much as frees.”
Ilythra blinked. Would she have used the power of the earth? Would she risk a greater evil for a temporary good? Like honey on her tongue, she remembered the taste of the power Bredych had given her. Maybe, just maybe, Ewen was right. It was better that she hadn’t known.
“Tell me of the dream casting. How often does he come to you, and where is he?”
“He’s always in a cave of some kind. A cave with a chimney. There’s darkness all around. I don’t know where the cave is.”
“And you did not sense him in Edriel?”
“No. But he was there.”
“What if he took the stone off?” Arien said. He looked at Ilythra. “It worked for you.”
She shrugged. She’d considered that but couldn’t imagine Bredych would surrender the stone to anyone or anything.
“When you dream cast, what do you speak about?”
“He taunts me with his certain victory.”
Ewen nodded. “He is no fool, but perhaps he is overconfident. We can use that to our advantage.”
“Overconfident? He has almost all of Anatar already under his sway. Did you forget he destroyed Isolden, controls Edriel, and the wave riders and liege lords along the west coast are no good to us? The Rugians are still in the east, the Creeians control the Mother and the barbarians from the far south are surging north.” She stopped. “The Faisach.” She turned to Ewen. “We must warn the Heleini.” Her heart clenched. The tribes on the Faisach had honored her by mixing their blood with hers and declaring her family. Tobar of the Heleini had been her first love. The only man who had touched her heart. She’d risked her life to save his son and the heir to the Zorcani tribe, Shandor.
Ewen smiled. “They’re being warned. And it is thanks to you that they exist at all. But you are seeing things as he does. Between all of these enemies are people.”
“Frightened people,” Ilythra concurred.
“Yes. Nevertheless, people willing to fight for their lands.” Ewen looked around the council. “As must we.”
“We defend our lands,” Maccrea said. “We have two of the three stones.”
Arien stared at Maccrea. “What good are our lands if the rest of Anatar burns?”
“He won’t rest until he controls all three stones,” Ilythra said.
“How is that even possible?” Sheenan asked. The once-warrior’s dark hair was loose from its usual queue and fell about his aged face.
Ewen smiled. “I can think of several ways.”
Ilythra stared at Ewen. Gone was the image of a soft-spoken Riege. She glimpsed the power he’d once been. The rule he’d abandoned. She suddenly knew that if Ewen had wanted to conquer Anatar, he could have. He could challenge Bredych for the crown and in doing so, destroy the land and its people.
Her heart filled with love, respect and shame. “I’m sorry.”
He turned to her.
“I should have told you about dream casting. I should have trusted you.”
“Trust is a delicate thing. Perhaps I should have told you as well. Let it be forgotten.” He smiled and his green eyes softened. He turned toward the council. “Arguments among ourselves are not going to get us anywhere, so let’s turn our attention to the bigger problem. Bredych controls most of Anatar, and he will be coming for us.”
“We need to attack now, before he rallies his troops.” Manu brushed the silver braid over his shoulder and let it fall down his back.
“Attack where? We are too few.” Sheenan slammed his hand against the table.
“One Elderborn is worth ten humans.” Galen’s soft drawl didn’t match the fire in his pale brown eyes.
Maccrea shook his head and absently rubbed a scar that ran down the side of his face. “That is all well and good if the numbers weren’t more like a thousand to one. We need to strengthen our defenses. We can hold these lands with few warriors.”
Manu faced Maccrea. “I know your worries, my friend. But for how long?”
“As long as it takes!” Maccrea’s voice rose a fraction.
“Until Anatar crumbles beneath us?” Arien asked.
Sheenan leaned forward. “Send an assassin. We kill Bredych or whatever he’s calling himself and our problem is gone.”
“I have thought of that.” Ewen rubbed his temples. “But I fear that is not an act of war. We may very well lose Crioch in the process.”
“We’ve lost it already!” Sheenan interjected.
“Besides,” Ewen continued, “he trusts no one. No one can get close enough.”
“Then what do you suggest?” Manu’s soft voice broke through the tension in the air. “I would hear from my Riege.”
Ewen met each gaze in the room. “We call warriors from these protected lands. We assemble and then we march.” His tone broached no argument. “The Dawn Children once again prepare for war.”
* * *
“Ryliann has escaped.”
Bredych stared at the guard but didn’t see him. The prince was gone. He hadn’t been surprised that Ilythra and the Siobani had eluded him. Once they’d made it over the bridges, he’d known Edriel’s finest guards didn’t have a chance. The Siobani might have been long away from the world of men, but they’d still be more skilled. Bows. He needed to instruct his Rugians to make bows. The Airydh magic, the magic that had blanketed Anatar, drowning out all but the faintest memory of the Siobani, and allowing them to disappear into the north still affected even him. Some facts about the Siobani were slippery, not staying in his memory long enough for him to act on them, but the effect was fading. As men learned of the Siobani, the spell the Airydh had sung dissipated. Soon it would disappear.
He would not let the prince escape as well. Anger coursed through his blood with every beat of his heart, but he kept his voice calm. “How?”
The king sat on his throne, a look of complete bewilderment on his face. Bredych’s nostrils flared in disgust before he could school his features. Weakness. The king’s love for his son, for his long-deceased wife, had weakened him until he was easily manipulated.
The guard looked from the king to Bredych. “Someone released him. One guard was found unconscious, but there is no other sign of struggle.”
“How many guards are missing?”
The palace guard shook his head. “There is no way to determine that without calling the commanders.”
“Your guess?”
“All those who fought with or served under Prince Ryliann would follow him.”
That was two contingences. Over a hundred men. “Would you?”
“No.” The man’s eyes flared.
“What is your name?”
“Tanner.”
Bredych turned toward Jaryn. “I am sorry, Your Majesty.”
The king turned dejected eyes in his direction. “It is done then. They’re gone.”
“Yes, I’m afraid so. And now they will warn the Siobani. They will know your kingdom is divided.” Bredych shook his head. “What other secrets do you think the prince revealed as he was walking them across the bridges?”
“Oh, no. He wouldn’t...” the king trailed off.
Bredych hid a smile. “I know this is a grievous time for you, Majesty. But we must act quickly before the Siobani and their magic descend upon us.”
King Jaryn shook his head. “I do not have the heart now.” He held up a hand. “But I do see the necessity for it. You’ve been right so far in all you’
ve said. You take command. Prepare the city, lead the defense.”
And the last piece falls into place. “It will be my pleasure, Your Majesty.”
Chapter Thirteen
Words. She was drowning in them. Worse, they were the same as those spoken two hours ago, decorated with a different flair, spoken in increasingly louder tones, more precise inflections, but the same. They were going in circles. In the weeks since they’d returned from Edriel, they’d sat through one meeting after another. Her palm itched for a blade, for action, for something other than talk. How did Ewen stand it? Ilythra’s gaze rose from her study of the table’s grain and she found Arien looking at her.
She smiled briefly and stared out the window. The smiths had created a false dawn. Their forges lit up the night, smoke darkening the day. Ceaselessly, the sound of metal against metal resounded across the Protected lands and mimicked the battle to come.
Ilythra shifted in her chair; and here they sat, a warm fire cackling on the hearth, while they debated who would be in charge of the warriors, who would organize what and when. How they would attack. None of this would be enough.
Candles lit the corners of the room, bolstering the moon’s feeble attempt at lighting the dark paneled room. Flickering light danced on heavy tapestries lining the walls and gave a sense of motion to the creatures detailed on the fabric.
Capricious light didn’t spare the features of Dawn Children leaders, softening angles, sharpening others. Ilythra observed the council members as they continued to argue among themselves, then allowed a sigh to escape. The sheer magnitude of gathering all the warriors, feeding and housing them made her head swim. Warriors arrived in the city daily. It fell to her to see they had shelter.
Siann had almost a celebratory feel. Walking through the courtyards or the many streets, one could witness families reunited with one another, lovers becoming reacquainted, old friends renewing bonds. Ilythra wondered if they couldn’t feel the dimness hovering along the horizon, their joy merely the final rays of sun before it sank beneath the ocean’s depth.
The door opened, bringing her focus back to the meeting. A warrior entered. By the quiver still slung around his shoulders, Ilythra knew the message must be urgent. In other circumstances, a weapon wouldn’t enter a council. She glanced at Arien, but his gaze was also on the messenger. The warrior paused before Ewen, bowing his head. They spoke in furtive tones for a moment before the warrior turned and left.
Ewen stared into the distance for a moment. The council’s attention rested on the Riege, waiting. He leaned forward, his hands forming a triangle, head bowed. Ealois dangled from its chain around his neck, catching the light and decorating the table with green prisms. In a sudden movement he stood, placing his hands on the polished wood, taking the time to meet each gaze. His eyes were piercing as they met hers.
“A group of humans is trying to find passage into our land. They bear no standard. The scouts could see no insignia on their garments, yet they ride like warriors.” The silence was complete.
“How many?” Sheenan asked.
Ewen turned his gaze to the old warrior. “Two hundred, forty-nine and horses.”
Sheenan made a noise in his throat.
“They are trying to come through the chasm?” Ilythra asked.
Ewen nodded.
“Then let them try. Even if they make it, they pose no threat,” Maccrea spoke.
“In part I agree with you. If these men somehow found a way across the chasm, our archers could dispatch them easily with little or no danger to us.” Ewen’s gaze again swept the room. “Our concern is not two hundred men, or even two hundred times two hundred men. Our concern is the will that drives them to our door. Not the pebble, my friends, but the hand that tosses it.” Ewen seemed to gaze far away. “However, these men who attempt to gain access to our dominion are not enemies but outcasts. They seek sanctuary.”
“Sanctuary? From what?” Sheenan asked.
“Have your ears been closed? The balance of power in the world of men is shifting. There’s nowhere safe,” Manu replied.
Arien and Ilythra exchanged a glance.
“Arien, send your warriors to meet these men,” Ewen said. “Escort them through the chasm and find them a place where they can camp near Siann. Bring the leader to me. I’m most curious about this human. It takes courage to attempt entrance into our domains, especially with the lies that have been spreading.” He turned back to the council. “We’ve wasted time and words when we have an excess of neither. Arien will lead the warriors. Sheenan, you see to the smiths. They must be quick, but the swords must be sound. Manu, once you boasted you could fletch an arrow faster than any warrior. We need countless now. They’re experimenting with forming metal tips. You will know if they’ve maintained the balance. Please see to our provisions.”
Ewen continued around the table, giving duties to all there. Ilythra waited for her assignment in vain.
“Now is the time to speak. If there are any misgivings, you must tell me. As you leave this place, we must be in one accord.” Every eye fastened on Ewen’s gaze. “Good. May the One be with you.” He bowed, turned and left the room.
Ilythra rose and returned to her room. A heaviness in her limbs weighed her step as she paced. The activity only stirred the turmoil within her. In desperation, she walked down the hallway and tapped once on the heavy oak door.
“I’ve been expecting you.” She heard Ewen’s voice from inside.
Ilythra opened the door and stepped in. “My Riege,” she began.
Ewen held up a hand. “I know when you begin with my title, I’m in over my aged head.” His smile softened his words and the exasperated tone of his voice. “You want to know why I’ve not given you any additional task. Is that not so?”
“Yes.” Ilythra sat in the offered chair.
“I’ve saved the hardest task for you. Arien is to be busy with the warriors. I need you to be my hands, my eyes. You’ll go where I say and do what I tell you. My words will be your words, my authority, your authority. Do you understand?”
Ilythra blinked back the emotion she knew shone from her eyes. Her heart filled with an ache of extremities. She’d wondered if Ewen didn’t trust her, wondered if she’d offended him, and he’d offered her the honor of a daughter. Ilythra kneeled before him in a formal gesture of acceptance and rested her forehead on his knees. “I’m honored, my Riege.”
Ewen lifted her chin. “It’s a formality only. You’ve been in my heart since the day you first stood before me. I knew then you were a formidable woman. You’ve not disappointed me. The Dawn Children will need your strength.” He paused. “Now I know you well enough to see you have some plan forming behind those intelligent eyes. Care to let me in on it?”
She smiled. “I need to contact Ansgar.”
“The Rugian—your wildcat on a chain?”
Ilythra nodded. “It’s time to find out how loyal he is to me.”
“How will you do that?”
Ilythra grinned. “That’s where the traders come in.”
* * *
“You really plan to leave right now?”
Ilythra turned to see Arien in the doorway of the barn. “I’ve got to find the traders. It should only take me a few weeks. That gives you time to retrieve the humans.”
Arien made a face. “I had hoped you’d go with me.”
Ilythra smiled and shook her head.
Arien stepped farther into the barn. “Why do you get the easy job?”
She placed the pack on Melior’s back. “They like me.”
Arien crossed the distance. “Ilythra, be careful.”
“He is not all-powerful. I just have to find one band of traders or even Benai, and they will spread the word.” She reached up and touched his face. “I know you would go with me if you could, but I w
ill be fine.”
He gripped her hand in his. “You could take—”
“I’m faster on my own.” She removed her hand and patted Ilydearta. “I will find a way.”
Arien took a deep breath. “So be it, but I will not rest until you return.”
Ilythra placed the last of the supplies in Melior’s pack and grabbed his reins. Neither would she.
* * *
Bredych paced around the table. His gaze did not waver from the map. He would not lose. With a lover’s gentleness, he reached out and laid a finger on a white marker. Ewen. “It will be over soon, my friend,” he spoke to the darkened room. Already in his mind, he was dining in the great hall of Siann. A fire crackling in the hearth, his dinner served by Siobani slaves to harmonies of screams from the torture chambers below.
Not many knew of the torture chambers. However, he remembered. He forgot nothing of his time with the Siobani.
The prince had escaped him and might find shelter with the Siobani. Ilythra would convince them to shelter the humans. Compassion was one of her weaknesses. He could still remember the lecture on mercy she’d given Erhard. Bredych moved to sit in the chair before the fire and study the flames. He examined the problem from several angles. He didn’t think that move threatened him. How could a handful of cast-off soldiers from Edriel and a traitorous prince harm him?
Soon Siobani homes would light the night. He wouldn’t rest until they were all under his sway. Not that he would kill all of them—at least, not right away. No, Ewen would live, live and suffer with every scream, every torment Bredych could think of for his people. Ewen would suffer with them, the weakling.
Bredych’s army grew every day. Humans were easy to sway. Offer them power, and they would do anything to gain it. The last few years had proven it repeatedly. Sons poisoning fathers, cousins lying in wait with a ready spear. It was deliciously easy.
A glint of metal caught his attention. Bredych rose to inspect the sword displayed on his wall. The fire’s reflection played along its smooth surface. He’d retrieved it from the wreckage of Elston. The sword Ilythra had made soon after arriving at the mainland when she’d escaped his men by hiding out with a healer.
Journey of the Wanderer Page 14