Artesans of Albia

by Cas Peace

  The fighting had recommenced at first light as usual, and despite the men’s exhaustion, it was intensifying by the hour. This escalation puzzled Sullyan and she scrutinized the battlefield intently. When she saw the reason for the change she turned, intending to send one of the twins in search of the Hierarch. Abruptly, a sharp pain ripped through her belly. A cry escaped her lips as intense agony sapped her strength and she was obliged to lean against the wall for support. Kester stepped close to help her, and even Vanyr glanced over, reluctantly curious.

  The agonizing pain left Sullyan gasping for breath. Dizzy and sick, she slid down the wall. With Kester’s help, she rested her back against it while Almid ran to find either the Hierarch or Robin. Despite Kester’s huge presence and forbidding expression, Vanyr approached, drawn by the intensity of her pain. He ignored the giant’s looming hostility and eyed Sullyan.

  “Major, is there anything I can do?”

  Her utter amazement at both his concern and curt offer gave her the strength for a gasped reply. “I thank you, Commander, but I will be well when Robin comes.” She sat as quietly as she could, each breath coming at a price, her vast powers completely unable to numb the pain.

  It seemed an age before Robin arrived, skidding to a stop beside her and going down on one knee. The Hierarch was right behind him, Deshan in tow. Vanyr moved back, but his awkward stance and stern mouth betrayed disquiet.

  Lack of breath had turned Sullyan’s lips blue and she was shivering violently. “Bring her inside,” commanded the Hierarch, and Kester scooped her up before the distraught Robin could move. The giant carried her through the Tower doors to the top of the stairs, but as soon as the big double doors clanged shut behind him, Sullyan’s pain vanished as if it had never been. The tension constricting her lungs disappeared, and she could speak again.

  “Put me down, Kester.”

  The giant didn’t respond.

  “Down!” she commanded, so firmly that he nearly dropped her. Robin and the Hierarch stared in amazement as she turned to face them. “The pain has gone,” she said slowly, a horrible suspicion growing in her heart. “There is something very strange happening here.” She shook her head, recalling what she had seen just before the pain struck. “Majesty, I was about to call for you when the pain hit me. The Duke of Kymer has finally taken to the field.”

  “What?” Pharikian turned on his heel, pushing back through the doors to see for himself.

  Robin took Sullyan’s arm, looking her over. “Are you alright?”

  Her lips were no longer numb and the shivering had stopped. Regarding him frankly, she said, “I am at present, Robin, but I very much fear a complication I had not anticipated. Will you come with me back to the wall? I may need your help if the pain returns.”

  “Is that wise, Major?” asked Deshan.

  “Maybe not, but it is necessary. This could be very important. Kester, I might need you too.”

  The giant followed as she pushed through the doors. She could see Vanyr watching her from his place by the wall, his face unreadable. She forgot him once she had taken two steps, though, because the pain was coming again. The nearer she got to the walls, the worse it grew. Soon she stopped, breathing heavily, and Pharikian turned from his scrutiny to watch her, anxiety plain on his face.

  “Robin,” she said, her voice weak and fearful, “I need your help. I cannot use my metaforce to numb the pain.”

  She sensed his alarm as he reached out, enveloping her mind with his own. His dismay was clear, but so was his relief when his strength seemed to help. Sighing as the pain eased, she moved nearer the wall. She made it almost as far as the wall itself before agony doubled her over once more. This time Pharikian added his strength to Robin’s, and after a few moments she was able to straighten. Leaning on Kester’s arm, she continued to the battlements. Her face felt pinched and tight, but she was able to bear it.

  She saw Pharikian share a worried look with Deshan. Vanyr regarded her closely, mixed expressions warring in his strange white eyes. Breathing deeply, Sullyan leaned against the wall, trying to calm the panic rising in her heart. This was a complication she hadn’t even considered, and she was sure the Hierarch was ignorant of its cause. But she knew. Her eyes had fastened on Rykan’s dark form as he emerged from his command tent, and she had seen him turn toward the Citadel and fix his gaze hungrily on the Hierarch’s standard. As his glance brushed hers—and she knew he hadn’t even seen her, let alone recognized her at such distance—the agonizing pain had struck her down.

  Rykan’s insidious poison had reacted to its maker’s presence.

  Now, leaning against the cold stone, panic and fury in equal measure tearing through her heart, she watched the enemy lord brutally rally his troops for what had to be a final push. The Hierarch kept up a soothing cocoon of power around her, for her own vast store of energy seemed beyond her control. Robin helped direct both his and Pharikian’s strength to where it would do most good, but she could still feel the monarch’s dismay at this unforeseen setback. Bleakly, she wondered how—or even if—she could overcome it. If she could not, all their plans were lost.

  As before, they spent the morning watching the two armies playing out the power struggle beneath them. It was soon obvious to Sullyan why Rykan had finally deigned to appear. He had kept some of his forces in reserve and now considered it necessary to deploy them. The dreadful losses sustained by both sides were testament to the valor of the men on the field, but it was also clear that despite the ferocity of the fighting, neither side could gain the upper hand. The morning wore on and Sullyan, who had managed to calm her earlier panic, became increasingly concerned.

  Pharikian was beside her as he had been all morning, and Robin was still directing their flow of metaforce to shield her from Rykan’s influence. Vanyr had also stayed, keeping his distance as usual. Sullyan glanced up at the Hierarch, trying to gauge his mood and guess whether he had seen and recognized Rykan’s latest tactic. Anjer was on the battlefield directing his men. She was sure he was unaware of his enemy’s latest move. He had runners and dispatch riders, but the field was in chaos and it wasn’t easy for them to get through. Reluctant to interfere with the direction of the Citadel’s forces while its ruler and one of its commanders were standing beside her, Sullyan kept her counsel.

  Time passed with still no countermeasures from Anjer, and Sullyan could stay silent no longer. Pharikian didn’t seem to have noticed the surge of Rykan’s fresh troops, and Vanyr hadn’t said anything either. If she didn’t speak now, she feared the battle could sway dangerously in Rykan’s favor. She felt very proud of Robin, who had nudged her arm some time ago to indicate that he had also seen the danger, although she had gestured for him to keep his peace.

  Finally, she spoke. “Majesty?”

  Pharikian turned, obviously thinking she was in trouble again. “Yes, child?”

  “I trust the Lord General will not leave it too much longer before mobilizing his reserves?”

  She saw Vanyr startle and the Hierarch stared at her. “What reserves, Brynne?”

  She went cold. “He must have reserves, Majesty, surely?”

  Pharikian frowned. “He does, but how do you know about them? They were kept a closely guarded secret to stop word of them reaching the enemy.”

  Some of her tension eased. “The secret is safe, Majesty, never fear. I only know because it makes sound tactical sense.” Her gaze returned to the mass of men, struggling together on the Plains. “But if he does not deploy them soon, it will be too late.” She pointed, drawing the Hierarch’s eyes, and Vanyr craned over the battlements too, intent on the conflict below. “See how the Duke has worked those fresh units around to your left flank where General Kryp is weakest? If he breaks through your lines there, he has access to Anjer’s rear and could conceivably cut him off. So if the Lord General is waiting for a signal, Majesty, may I strongly suggest that you give it?” She saw his stare and added, “With the greatest respect, of course.”

  P
harikian glanced back down at the conflict, verifying the truth of her words. He shook his head. “You’re wasted as a major, Brynne.”

  “Tell that to my General, Majesty.”

  She smiled, but the expression faded swiftly as she realized there would be no point.

  Pharikian’s face darkened and she heard him mutter, “Be sure that I will, child.”

  He concentrated, sending the information to Anjer. They all saw the start Anjer gave on receiving his ruler’s message, and once he had instructed his runners he turned in his saddle to salute the watchers on the battlements.

  “Anjer sends his compliments, Major, and thanks you for your timely observation,” Pharikian reported. He grinned and Sullyan smiled faintly back, allowing him to lighten her mood. Vanyr stood watching her with what could have been reluctant respect.

  Over the next few hours, Anjer’s hidden forces came into play, countering Rykan’s final surprise tactic. Clearly furious at its failure and unwilling yet to surrender, the Duke whipped his men to an even greater frenzy. The mud of the battlefield disappeared beneath fallen bodies as the Hierarch’s troops surged forward to meet these desperate attacks, but as time wore on it became obvious that Rykan’s men couldn’t sustain this pace. They were exhausted and failing.

  In the middle of the afternoon Princess Idrimar appeared, seeking the watchers on the Tower. She told Sullyan she had been sent by Marik, who had heard of the battle’s progress and was desperate to see it for himself. Since the healers wouldn’t let him rise from his bed, he thought Sullyan might be able to persuade them, knowing she would understand his need.

  Sullyan left the battlements, taking Almid and Kester with her. She found Marik fretting in his bed. Glad of a reason to use her powers since they were useless on her own malady, she poured strength and stability into him as well as numbing some of his pain. The giants then wrapped him carefully in blankets and a huge cloak before lifting him into a solid padded chair. This they carried between them up the interminable stairs and out onto the Tower roof, positioning it so Marik could look over the walls and observe the scene below.

  What he saw was total carnage. There were dead and dying men and horses everywhere. The noise of battle was loud and the smells of warfare spiraled on the torpid air. Generals and commanders on both sides could be seen exhorting their tired and dispirited men, but those on Rykan’s side were having less success than those on the Hierarch’s. As Sullyan knew, many of Rykan’s troops were newly subjugated and had little or no stomach for this fight. Finding themselves on the losing side, they vanished from the battlefield like wraiths in the sun. Watching Rykan’s forces dwindle by the hour brought a grim smile to Pharikian’s face.

  Eventually, just as the light was fading, a distinctive horn-call blared across the Plains. Sullyan traded a look with Pharikian. Rykan’s heralds were signaling his intention to surrender. Robin hugged her tight and Commander Vanyr shook his sovereign’s hand. Sullyan simply felt numb.

  Suddenly, the Citadel’s curtain walls were thronging with people, all cheering their victorious army. The fighting men, too exhausted to cheer, watched as Anjer and his honor guard rode forward to meet Rykan’s emissary and receive the Duke’s token of surrender. He reported the news that Rykan would formally cede victory to the Hierarch and withdraw his personal challenge one hour after dawn on the following day. Pharikian sent his acceptance.

  To noisy acclaim from the populace, Anjer returned to the Citadel.

  + + + + +

  So it’s definite? He’s surrendered?

  It was evening, and Taran was listening in to Bull’s conversation with Robin. They learned that the Captain had finally persuaded Sullyan to rest once the furor of congratulating Anjer had subsided, but they were due to attend the Hierarch later to discuss Rykan’s formal surrender.

  Taran and his companions had heard Rykan’s horns without realizing their significance. On learning the truth, they shared mixed emotions; elation at the outcome of the war, but trepidation at the thought of what Sullyan must now face. Bull in particular was alarmed when he heard Robin’s account of how the Duke’s physical presence had affected her.

  So how will she cope with fighting him? he asked.

  Robin replied heavily. I have no idea. She’s going to have to tell the Hierarch tonight and I don’t know how he’ll react.

  Any idea when the duel will take place?

  I’d imagine the day after tomorrow. The Hierarch will issue his own challenge in the morning, and I expect Rykan will be given a day to rest and prepare after the fighting. Not that he took much part in it. He only crawled out of his tent this morning.

  What are the chances we can get closer to watch?

  Robin paused to consider. Not good, Bull. Both armies are still entrenched around the Citadel. You’d never get through Rykan’s lines unobserved. Even if you did, I doubt the Hierarch or Anjer would approve of what you’ve done. Best keep your heads down and stay where you are. I don’t even want to think how the Major would react to learning you’ve been there all along. She’s got enough on her mind right now.

  Bull conceded the point, although his heart railed against it. He broke the link and left Taran to tell the others what they had learned. This he did with a heavy heart, knowing how distressed Rienne would be.

  + + + + +

  Sullyan woke to Robin’s gentle kiss a couple of hours later. He was sorry to do it. She had been soundly sleeping, which was a rarity in itself, and he knew how badly she needed the rest. Yet they had to attend the Hierarch, and it wouldn’t do to be late. She gave him a soft smile and immersed herself in the bathing pool before accepting Robin’s offer of fresh fellan as she dressed.

  The meeting would be informal, attended by the Hierarch, Anjer, Ephan, Kryp, and Vanyr. Its purpose was to discuss the arrangements for hearing Rykan’s declaration of surrender and the promulgating of the Hierarch’s own personal challenge. It would be held in Pharikian’s lesser audience chamber with its more comfortable seating and roaring fire. By the time Sullyan arrived, Ky-shan and Jay’el still shadowing her, everyone was there with the exception of the Hierarch.

  Leaving the pirates by the door, Sullyan crossed to Anjer, intending to give her personal congratulations on his victory. Instead of waiting for her to speak, however, he startled her by sweeping her into his arms. He was smiling hugely.

  “If it hadn’t been for you noticing Rykan’s sneaky little move, the battle might have had a very different outcome. Andaryon stands in your debt, Major Sullyan.”

  He set her on her feet again and she flushed, embarrassed by his praise. “I am sure you would have seen it for yourself, my Lord.”

  “Not soon enough, my Lady! Kryp wants to thank you as well, for his lines were weak on that side and Rykan might well have broken through if you hadn’t alerted me.”

  To her deepening mortification, Kryp heaved himself to his feet and held out a meaty hand to her. Unable to refuse, she took it and he clasped hers to his chest as he added his heartfelt thanks to Anjer’s. All traces of his former animosity seemed to have vanished. She noticed how he favored one leg and commented on it.

  “It’s only a flesh wound, Lady Brynne,” he said. “I was one of the lucky ones.”

  Ephan was wounded too and sported a bandage over one eye, his left arm in a sling. His smile of greeting also conveyed his gratitude. Vanyr bowed his head to her, although he didn’t speak. The Commander seemed to have put aside much of his former hostility, although he still seemed ill at ease in her company. She noticed his eyes on her more than once during the evening.

  The chamber door opened and the Hierarch, preceded by two pages, entered the room. To the delight of all, Marik followed him, the twins once again carrying the Count in his chair. Deshan and the Princess walked behind him, and they took seats on either side of Marik once the twins placed him at the oval table. There were congratulatory remarks all round for the heroics of the Count and his men.

  The meeting got off to a slow s
tart as servants brought in a light meal. Anjer and Kryp devoured theirs as if they feared a famine, but the rest ate more sedately. The Hierarch watched Sullyan closely as the meal progressed, and she saw his lips purse at the small amount she ate. When the plates were finally cleared away, he turned to her.

  “Brynne, before we discuss the real reasons behind this meeting, I think we need to establish exactly what happened to you this morning. Would you mind?”

  Sullyan’s eyes darkened at the memory, but she couldn’t escape the necessity of his question. The fire opal at her throat leaped to the beat of her heart. Anjer, Kryp, and Ephan, all informed of the attack she had suffered earlier that day, turned concerned eyes on her. The Major took a moment to compose herself before speaking.

  “It was the Duke’s physical presence, Majesty. I never imagined it would cause such a reaction in me. My powers were useless against the pain, and I have no idea how to counter its effects. I very much fear it will compromise my efficiency in dealing with him on a personal basis.”

  Their concern was palpable and Anjer leaned forward. “Then what are we to do?”

  Pharikian held up a hand to ward off further queries. Sullyan watched him, suspecting he had a plan. She was right.

  “Yes, I thought that might be the case. Deshan and I have been discussing this, child, and we believe we have found a way to ensure your freedom from this pain when you face Rykan. On the day of the duel, just before you go to meet him, we will share life force with you. That should give you the physical strength, at least for a while, to ward off the poison’s effects. Hopefully it will last long enough for you to defeat him.”

  This was an unprecedented offer and Robin’s eyes widened. Sullyan shook her head. “I cannot take your life force, Majesty, it would be too risky! What if I should lose?”

  The Hierarch regarded her, eyes hard. “If you lose to him, Brynne, it will matter little that you carry our life force. Do you think Rykan will allow any of us to live if he takes the crown? You and I both know he will put us all to the sword, regardless of rank or Code.”