by Cas Peace
“Do not forget that the villagers are vulnerable innocents. Do all you can to protect them. Engage Sonten in the fields, if you can.” She swept them with a concerned gaze. “You should go. The light is increasing, and Sonten will be on the move. Do not fear for me. We will return to the Citadel. No doubt Anjer’s escort will meet us on the way. Robin, my love, take care.”
With a final clasp of her hand, Robin vaulted into Torka’s saddle. Wheeling the horses, the company disappeared through the trees. Ky-shan was last to go, and as he passed Sullyan, he said, “Don’t worry, Lady, we’ll watch out for him.”
“Thank you, Ky,” she murmured, watching him spur his horse after Robin.
+ + + + +
Followed by Vanyr and the pirates, Robin rode as fast as he dared through the dense woods. The light increased steadily. He was content to trail Sonten for now because he didn’t hold out much hope of catching him before he crossed into Albia. Sonten would have quickly realized he had shaken his pursuers last night, and Robin was sure the General would have wasted no time discovering how little his remaining captive knew about traveling the Veils. What this had cost Cal, Robin dared not think.
It was what Robin himself would have done—learn your enemy’s strengths and weaknesses before planning your final strategy. Therefore, despite last night’s chaotic events and the darkness which would have made it tricky finding a suitable place to cross the Veils, Robin wouldn’t be at all surprised to learn that Sonten was already in Albia. If that was the case, then he stood little chance of tracking the General directly. Had Robin known the patterns of either of the two Artesans in Sonten’s party, he might have been able to follow their echo through the substrate. He did not. He didn’t even know their rank, so it was entirely possible that at least one of them had the strength or knowledge to open a tunnel for Sonten, maybe even one large enough to take his whole party through at once. Therefore, Robin’s plan was to find a suitable boundary, set up a tunnel, and pass through to the Manor as quickly as possible. Then, hopefully with Blaine’s help, he could prevent Sonten from reaching Taran’s village.
He told his thoughts to Vanyr and Ky-shan as they rode. Both men nodded. Vanyr then mentioned the factor that was taxing Robin. “If Sonten does need Cal to open the Veils, he’ll have to take the spellsilver off him, won’t he? We would be able to find him. He would surely try to contact one of you, tell you where he is.”
“Perhaps,” conceded Robin. “Trouble is, he doesn’t know what has happened. He was unconscious all through last night. Sonten might have told him the rest of us are dead, and Cal won’t know truth from lie. But Sonten won’t use Cal unless both his own Artesans are Apprentices. Why take the risk? And I think this Heron we’ve heard about must be ranked higher than that. Otherwise he’d stand no chance of learning to use the Staff.” He grimaced. “There are too many unknowns for me. I prefer to rely on facts. I know where Sonten’s headed, and if I can get there first, so much the better. I like an ambush, Commander. They’re neat, tidy, and usually very effective.”
Vanyr smiled. “Do you think we could get hold of this Staff thing before Sonten even arrives? Can you imagine how furious he’d be if we did?”
Robin shrugged. “I doubt it. Taran says it’s buried under tons of rubble and would take days to dig out. It sounds like it would take hours even if we had an entire company digging. No, Commander. Much as I would like to taunt Sonten with it, I want to concentrate on rescuing Cal. Once we have him safe, we can turn our attention to digging out the Staff. Now, have you any idea how much farther these damned woods extend?”
Having made the decision not to hunt Sonten on the Andaryan side of the Veils, they made better time. Vanyr knew where the forest boundary was and guided Robin toward it, the Captain’s mind and nerves churning as he rode. Despite Sullyan’s avowal that he was strong enough for this next task, Robin was anxious. Fixing the egress of a trans-Veil tunnel was a Master-level skill. He knew the mechanics of it—the theory was easy to learn. The problem was having the sheer strength of will to direct where it opened, and he knew he would need every ounce of concentration he could muster. At least Vanyr’s Journeyman strength could help him if he faltered.
They didn’t stop for a noon meal, but ate while riding. They slackened pace to allow the horses some rest for an hour or so, then Robin picked it up once more. By early evening they had reached the forest boundary on the border between the Hierarch’s province and Kymer.
Robin called a halt to breathe the horses and sat regarding the land spread out before him. They had headed steadily southeast and, if they continued on, would eventually reach Rykan’s palace. Briefly, Robin wondered if that was Sonten’s immediate objective, rather than Taran’s village. A secure base from which to extract more information from Cal in relative safety. Yet he soon dismissed the notion. Sonten must know he was being pursued, and he would also know that his destination was obvious to anyone who knew Cal and Taran. He would want to make all possible speed.
Despite his lack of confidence, Robin knew he had to attempt the crossing before camping for the night. Once back on Albian soil, he could contact General Blaine in safety and set things at the Manor in motion.
He turned to Ky-shan and Vanyr, both watching to see what he had decided. “It has to be tonight.”
They nodded, having expected no less.
“I have to tell you,” he added, the candor of his tone drawing their eyes, “that I have never done this before. Sullyan says I am capable, and she should know, but I’m not confident. I’m warning you now. I might need help with this, Commander, if you’re willing.”
“My name is Torman, Captain, and I am at your disposal,” said Vanyr. “I don’t believe the Major would have told you you’re ready if you’re not. But if my skills can help you, don’t hesitate to ask.”
Robin gave a sigh of relief. “Thanks.”
He dismounted, taking a steadying breath. “This is a likely place for me to form the tunnel, because that line of rocks there will make a good barrier against leaks. This is what I propose. Most of these horses have never been through the Veils before, so I think we should blindfold them. Sometimes they spook, and I can do without loose horses ruining my concentration. Any of the men who are nervous can wear blindfolds too, if it helps. Going through the Veils can play tricks with your eyes. Ky-shan, will you organize that?”
The stocky seaman nodded. Turning to his men, he gave the order to dismount. Vanyr also dismounted and laid a hand on Robin’s shoulder. “I have faith in you, Adept-elite. If Brynne Sullyan has had a hand in your training, you know far more than you think. You do know she’s Pharikian’s metaphysical equal, don’t you?”
Robin frowned. “What, Senior Master? You sure? She never mentioned it.”
Vanyr shrugged. “She’s not admitting it to herself yet. I suppose she’s got other things on her mind. But I could feel it when we linked, and I know Pharikian’s capabilities very well. If she comes through this, don’t be surprised if he has something planned for her.”
Sudden tears pricked Robin’s eyes. There were too many ‘ifs’ to be resolved. These past few months had been the hardest, yet also some of the sweetest, of his short life. He had never known such emotional turmoil since his sister Jessy’s illness and death. It was almost too much to bear.
As if in understanding, Vanyr squeezed his shoulder. “Come on, Captain. Let’s get to work.”
Ky-shan had organized his men well, and many of them already sported blindfolds. Most of the horses did too, and they stood quietly, lined up nose to tail for safety. Vanyr told Robin that neither his nor Ky-shan’s mounts would baulk. On hearing this, Robin asked the Commander to lead the column through, with Ky-shan bringing up the rear. All that remained was for him to open the way.
He stood beside the blessedly steady Torka, the big chestnut’s ears pricked and alert, sensing his master’s tension. Robin looped the reins over one arm and took a few deep breaths. He was aware of Vanyr’s encouraging eyes upon him and K
y-shan’s expectant expression. Hoping he wouldn’t show himself up, he began.
The first task was to isolate the portion of his complex psyche that related to Earth and attune himself to it. This was easy—it was a basic Apprentice skill. Once immersed in and surrounded by the signature of Earth, Robin sent his senses deep into the ground beneath his feet, feeling for the ponderous power, keeping the solid, symmetrical quality of it firmly in his mind. He felt relief as it responded to his will, rising smoothly up from the bedrock and soil to form the shimmering grey structure of a trans-Veil opening. As it took shape in the air above the natural rocky outcrop Robin had chosen as his starting point, the Captain fixed his thoughts very firmly on a specific area of the Manor’s vast lands, namely the edge of the stream below the ridge where he and Bull had watched Taran take his final step toward the rank of Adept. Locking this location in his mind, he pushed forward on the power, easing it through the Veils.
As it slipped through each barrier, he anchored the structure, still holding firmly to his destination. Then the final barrier gave way and he smiled in relief when he saw a familiar landscape of water and a riverbank open out before him. Desperate not to lose his concentration, he gestured to Vanyr.
The tall Commander nudged his horse forward and rode slowly through the grey, color-shot tunnel. He had drawn his sword—Robin would have done the same—but once he was through, the Captain could see there was nothing to trouble him. Robin then signaled for the column to start moving, and they slowly shuffled forward in single file. Thanks to the blindfolds, all the horses went calmly. Robin allowed himself to relax. Even one spooking at the wrong moment could have caused him to lose control, and had the structure collapsed it would have stranded the column somewhere in another land. Finding them again would not necessarily be difficult, but it would be tiring and time-consuming.
The strain was beginning to tell on Robin, and he was thankful when Ky-shan, as rear-guard, finally reached Vanyr’s side. He followed through with Torka, collapsing the tunnel as he went. Once safely on Albian soil he stood breathing deeply, trying to regain some strength. He accepted Vanyr’s congratulatory slap on the back with a feeling of pride. Perhaps he was ready to become Master, after all.
While the Commander and Ky-shan saw to the removal of the blindfolds, Robin sent a questing thought to General Blaine. It was late in the evening, but not too late. The Captain knew Blaine never retired early. His tentative contact was swiftly accepted, but what Blaine had to tell him shocked him to the core. His dismay must have shown on his face. Vanyr was watching him closely, and as soon as Blaine broke the contact, he asked, “What is it, Captain? What’s wrong?”
Robin swore. “We’ve badly underestimated Sonten, that’s what’s wrong. Far from relying on Cal to take him and his men through the Veils last night, or even this morning, he must have sent an advance force into Albia via one of his own Artesans. They could have been here for days, hiding out in the countryside, learning their way around, just waiting for Sonten’s instructions. Once he’d made Taran tell him where the Staff was, he must have relayed the information to this advance force. They pinpointed Taran’s village and surrounded it. He already has the place completely cut off.”
“Triton’s balls!” grunted Ky-shan.
The young Captain continued. “The good news is that Blaine got word of it. One of the villagers managed to get away and rode through the night for help. Two companies from the Manor are already on their way to Hyecombe. The bad news is that the village was taken at night, so all the villagers were in their homes. General Blaine has ordered our forces not to engage Sonten while the villagers are in danger.”
“So Sonten and Cal are already there?” Vanyr’s expression registered his disgust.
“We have to assume so, yes. With Sonten’s advance party in control of the village, they would have directed him straight there. They probably even know which house to search and may already be digging out the Staff. Let’s hope Taran was right about the amount of time it would take to retrieve the thing.”
“Any news of Cal?”
Robin shook his head. “No doubt he’ll be kept closely confined, if he’s even still alive. My guess is that his life depends on whether Sonten knows where the Staff is. I don’t know if Sonten’s Artesans would be able to sense the thing, but even if Cal has held out on him—and if I know Cal, he’ll have tried his damnedest—it won’t take Sonten long to work out where the weapon is. Maybe Cal still has hostage value, and maybe he doesn’t. That will depend on Sonten’s plans for the Staff once he recovers it. If this man Heron is going to take Jaskin’s place, then I’m guessing they’ll need a victim to test the weapon on.”
Vanyr turned pale. Robin tried not to imagine how being stripped of his powers by such a terrible method might feel. Another dreadful possibility occurred to him, and he stared at Vanyr in horror.
“What, Captain?”
Robin’s voice shivered with dread. “Torman, what if Sonten knows Sullyan needs the Staff to survive? He knows what Rykan did to her. He must also know what she did to Rykan in the arena, and why she needed his life force. We all heard Rykan refuse to trade his life for hers, and Sonten must surely have heard her say that some of his power was missing. Oh, gods! Torman, if Sonten is ambitious and confident enough to mount his own challenge on the Hierarch, then he won’t want Sullyan in the way any more than Rykan did. Especially now he knows she would be on Pharikian’s side. He only has to keep us from recovering the Staff to be rid of her!”
Vanyr scowled. “Then we’ll have to make damned sure he doesn’t succeed.”
Ky-shan nodded. “Don’t you worry, Skip, Sonten won’t slip through our fingers this time. He may think he has the upper hand for now, but he doesn’t know we’re coming in force against him. With any luck, we’ll take him by surprise and slaughter the lot of them before they disappear with the Staff.”
“I can’t take any chances with the villagers,” warned Robin, “but apart from that, I agree with you. I’m not going to jeopardize Cal’s life if I can help it, but neither am I going to let Sonten deny Sullyan her chance of survival. Much as I want to leave for Hyecombe right away, I think we ought to call at the Manor tomorrow morning. I can brief General Blaine fully and try to convince him to send more men. Then, if we ride hard, we can make it to the village by nightfall, assess the situation, and rendezvous with the commanders of the units already there. Together, we’ll work out what’s best to do.”
+ + + + +
Under low scudding clouds and intermittent rain, Robin led his band into the Manor. The sentries were expecting him, but even so, they looked askance at a group of Andaryans riding openly into their midst. After tactfully asking Solet to see to their comforts, Robin left the pirates at the horse lines, taking only Vanyr and Ky-shan to meet with General Blaine.
Blaine invited them into his office and shook hands gravely with both the tall Commander and the stocky seaman. Appreciating the irony of the situation, Vanyr and Ky-shan remained silent while Robin swiftly briefed the General. When he was done, Blaine sat back, his face impassive.
“You say this … artifact is vital to the Major’s survival?”
“Yes, sir,” said Robin.
“And if she can make use of it, she will be able to return and resume her life?”
“Presumably, sir.”
Robin was unable to read Blaine’s expression, but for once he was not rattled by it. The General seemed to be taking him seriously and treating the matter with the gravity it deserved. After his unprecedented display of emotion on taking his leave of Sullyan at Marik’s mansion, much of Robin’s dislike and mistrust of the man had vanished. His previous unflattering opinions had undergone a radical turn-around. Blaine had finally let his guard down, and Robin could understand why he acted as he did.
The General regarded him, eyes hard. “You’re certain there’s no other way for Sullyan to return? You’re saying that if we don’t recover this artifact, this Staff, we’ll b
e as good as signing her death warrant?”
Robin’s heart lurched at Blaine’s blunt phrasing. “That’s about it, sir.”
“Very well. Captain, take the Major’s company to Hyecombe. Sergeant Dexter has been leading them well enough, but I know he’ll appreciate your return. I authorize you to do whatever you can to relieve the village and recover the Staff. Protect the villagers as best you can, but use all your resources to regain that artifact. Is that clear?”
“Perfectly, sir.” Robin snapped a smart salute. “I’ll succeed, sir. Don’t worry.”
“I don’t doubt it, Captain,” said the General, slapping Robin on the shoulder. The young man was astonished. Never before had Blaine shown such trust in him.
He still couldn’t believe it as he led Vanyr and Ky-shan swiftly back, past the Major’s office door, which he tried hard not to look at, and out toward the barracks. His heart racing at the thought of positive action, he yelled for Dexter to ready the Major’s company.
+ + + + +
Escorted by Anjer’s men and accompanied by the Lord General himself as an indication of her status, Sullyan arrived back at the Citadel by noon. Riding into the lower town, her party received the acclaim of the sentries and members of the Velletian Guard. Pharikian’s people had not yet had the opportunity to honor the Champion of the Crown and were eager for festivities to celebrate Sullyan’s achievement. As they rode along the Processional Way, Anjer told her that Pharikian would be organizing some kind of formality to mark the victory. Sullyan, however, only had thoughts for Rienne, and worries for Robin and Cal.
She dismounted in the palace courtyard, pleased to see that some of Anjer’s men were assisting Taran and Bull. Both men looked about with interest as grooms led away their horses. A slim, dark-haired figure came running into the courtyard and threw herself into Taran’s arms. Rienne was sobbing wildly, and the startled Adept held her as tightly as his bruised flesh would allow, murmuring words of encouragement and comfort.