by B. T. Narro
There was a smoky smell to the air. Underneath it was the stink of manure. A child made a face as she carried a bucket out of camp, holding it as far from her nose as she could manage.
The construction of catapults took center stage of the camp, men banging away as others barked orders. The troops passing by kept a wide berth. Allephon and his escorts had moved out of sight behind the massive structures, but turning heads indicated the new king couldn’t have gone far. There were many roles Desil could choose from to gain access to the troop side of the camp, but only the truth would suffice with a psychic scowling at him.
“Allephon plans to lie,” he told the young man and woman. “He will announce that his father died from an illness, but Allephon was the one responsible for Fernan’s death.”
The swordsman scoffed as he shoved Desil. “We don’t need your kind spreading rumors. Next you’ll be asking for coin for more false tidings. Stay away from here.”
“I’m telling the truth.” Desil peered into the psychic’s eyes. She appeared unconvinced. “Can’t you tell?”
“Psyche tells me you believe yourself but not whether you’ve gone mad.”
“I was there in the castle a day ago.” Desil leaned in to whisper. “I saw his body.”
The effect of his words slackened their faces.
“It can’t be true,” the swordsman said to the psychic. “How could he have gotten here from the castle in a day without a horse?”
“I don’t know.” Her gaze bore into Desil. The power behind her eyes reminded him of how Adriya used to stare when Desil first involved himself with Leida. But there was something else in the psychics’ gray eyes that Desil had never seen in Adriya, a glint of fear that Desil was right. “Who are you?”
He wished he could tell them that he was helping the headmaster end this war, but he’d seen how Neeko’s troops had looked at Basen with betrayal. If the rest of the army found out their headmaster was here in hiding, news would no doubt reach Allephon. A search would commence, resulting in Basen’s capture as well as everyone else’s. Desil might not be killed, but Beatrix certainly would. There would be no more hope to reach the akorell metal before the Marros, and the creatures could use it to build a new home in Kyrro if they didn’t take it back to Kanoan. Desil stopped his train of thought there.
“I’m Desil Fogg,” he answered. “I’m involved in this war in a different way than you, but I am on your side. More importantly, I’m on the side of truth. I cannot tell you more, but you’re welcome to accompany me on our way to Cleve or Reela Polken. You can take my sword as well.” He gripped the handle and began to draw it out, pausing to wait for their reaction. He would hate to part with his weapon, and he was certain the psychic could feel this.
“Yes, give it to him.”
Desil handed his weapon off to the soldier. The young man’s face blanched as he took the sword with a shaky hand.
“Are you saying he’s right about the king?” he asked the psychic
“He might be,” she answered. “And that chance is all I need to take him to the Polkens.”
*****
Leida needed to interrupt Adriya and Eckard while they seemed to be rekindling an old flame. It wasn’t that Leida minded their brushing of hands and longing looks. In fact, Adriya had been as happy as Leida could remember during the heart of her relationship with the haughty swordsman-chemist. Her reason for interrupting instead had to do with a thought, or more a hope, for Desil.
Eckard had chosen to ignore orders, remaining here only because of Adriya, so it seemed wrong of Leida to force him away. But she couldn’t stand idle any longer.
She’d asked her father why he hadn’t told any of Neeko’s troops to go with Desil.
“Because I know how important it must be for them to watch these woods,” he’d answered. “Remember how they captured us when they thought we were with Tenred. There was anger behind their tackling and roping. Tenred must’ve done more damage to Kyrro in the short time we’ve been gone than I assumed. Our enemies are out here somewhere, posing a risk to our allies. It’s not fair of me to ask them to sacrifice their safety. They’ve already lost trust in us because we left the Academy. They aren’t likely to accept such an order.”
It was a valid point, except that Eckard had stayed behind without anyone asking him to. When Basen saw Leida glancing at the young swordsman, Basen had told her, “Ask if you wish, but hurry. Neeko should be back any moment to collect and reprimand him, if I know Neeko as well as I think I do.”
Leida had run to interrupt her friend’s reunion after that.
“Eckard, can you go after Desil and make sure he gets to one of Adriya’s parents?” She gave Adriya an apologetic look as soon as she finished speaking.
“I should’ve thought of that earlier,” Adriya said to Leida’s relief. “Go, Eckard.”
For all the attention Eckard had given Leida the last time she and Adriya had seen him, in the dining hall of the Academy, now it was as if Leida didn’t exist. He looked at Adriya as if she had answers to every question he could think to ask.
“Go!” she repeated.
“All right.”
Leida was surprised when he leaned into Adriya for a kiss. She must’ve expected it, though, because her mouth was ready.
Screams pierced the air as their lips touched.
Basen was running toward the cries before Leida even realized what she was hearing. There was a battle in the woods. Her father looked back at them. “Stay here, Leida and Adriya!”
But Eckard and Adriya were already on their way after him, Kirnich and Beatrix flanking Basen.
“But Desil…” Leida spoke to no one but herself. She was unable to move, and unable to figure out why. She tried to go after them, but all she could do was watch.
It felt as a betrayal to Desil when she finally sprang into motion. I will see him again, she told herself. He will be safe. There was no logic behind her fear for Desil. It was little more than a sense, a premonition that something would go wrong out there.
Here she would fight beside her father with courage, her training coming back stronger with each step.
She ran into the scene behind her comrades. Men camouflaged with leaf-colored leather armor stabbed spears into the bodies of Academy students trapped beneath rope, squirming in a panic to free themselves. Many were already dead. The ambush must’ve come from the trees, where more camouflaged archers fired down arrows into the heads and backs of Leida’s allies.
She screamed out her aggression and anger as she unleashed a fireball at the nearest woman in the trees. Leida’s aim was true. Her target was older, with gray hair that fanned out as she spiraled down from the branch and landed on the ground, alive somehow. She started to get up until Kirnich swiped his sword through her neck to separate her head. She held for a moment on hands and knees before sprawling. Leida was sickened by the sight of blood spurting from the woman’s neck.
She couldn’t believe the gruesome scene everywhere before her. Blood sprayed the trees, the ground, and the armor of everyone as the pungent and metallic scent of death curled Leida’s stomach. Shouts and screams grinded in her ears. Explosions of fireballs reverberated through her heart.
She froze. Her breath caught. Her hand dropped.
Unable to control her feet, they turned her around. Erwal, one of the assassins who’d been pursuing Beatrix, had been right about Leida. He’d harassed her for weeks, staring at her rather than their instructor during their training, sitting close enough in the dining hall to watch Leida every time she ate. He started walking around her campus house at night—she could hear him pacing and knew it was him, though she never had the courage to confront him. She went to Reela with Adriya’s help, and together they questioned Erwal. He claimed he loved Leida and had been trying to figure out how to tell her, which she couldn’t believe when Reela confirmed it was true. Leida told him then that he scared her and asked him to stay away.
Instead, he’d cornered her in the
dining hall the next evening. He called her every name he could think of, but the worst was when he said she was a coward who would be first to die if war ever started. It was the only insult spoken under control, the only insult that turned out to be correct.
It all came back as she fought herself not to flee. She knew she wasn’t a coward. She wasn’t the weakest on the battlefield. And yet she was the only one who couldn’t fight.
“Adriya!” Basen yelled. “Take Leida back with you.”
Leida turned to see Adriya looking her way, obviously unsure about what to do. A battle raged behind Adriya. Basen blocked an attack with his sword and counterattacked with speed Leida had never witnessed in her father, shock bulging his enemy’s eyes as the man curled over Basen’s blade. Two more came for Basen—Leida’s allies were heavily outnumbered.
Something snapped within her as Adriya came and put her hands on Leida to take her away. Leida moved around Adriya and blasted the ground in front of the two men charging her father. Dirt exploded, rolling men backward in its wake.
“Watch out!” Adriya shoved Leida. An arrow whistled and stuck into the ground. Adriya dropped her staff to return fire with her bow, felling the archer on the outskirts of the fray, but another arrow came from the sky and pierced Adriya’s leg just above her knee.
The injury took her off her feet but not out of the battle. She readied her second arrow and shot this man down as well, all before Leida could form a fireball from the energy she’d gathered. Unable to hold it, she shifted her aim to the last archer she saw in the trees, this one far across the battlefield. Her fireball broke branches as it stormed through the canopy with a tail of smoke, blasting down another woman.
Leida helped up her friend and got her behind the nearest tree.
“Stay here and shoot with me.” Adriya nocked an arrow.
The battle had shrunk into a brawl. “I can’t risk it. My fireball would be just as likely to strike an ally.”
“Stay where I can see you, then.”
“I will.”
*****
The swordsman and psychic didn’t give Desil their names. They accompanied him in a walk around the siege weapons. Desil spotted Allephon’s retinue soaking up everyone’s attention, most stopping work to gawk. Desil casually moved to one side to place his escorts between him and the band of steel-clad soldiers. He wasn’t sure if any among them would recognize him from his escape of the castle, but he couldn’t risk finding out.
His escorts brought him in front of a large tent where two older men were just leaving while chatting with each other.
“Hawthen really agreed?” asked one dubiously.
The din of the camp drowned out the other’s response as they walked past Desil as if he wasn’t there.
Hawthen was the king of Tenred. Desil had no idea what he could’ve agreed to.
The swordsman escort called out, “Headmaster, there’s something important to be discussed.”
“How important?” answered a deep voice.
“Very,” Desil answered. “And urgent.”
“Then hurry up. Come in.”
Desil followed the swordsman inside with the psychic behind them. Cleve Polken put himself in front of them at the entrance of the tent, his broad shoulders blocking the rest of the interior from view.
Desil knew they’d met before, but Cleve’s glowering eyes and straight mouth were unfamiliar. It was probable that Desil hadn’t spent much time glancing above Cleve’s chest the last time they’d met, too distracted by the size of this man. Cleve’s graying hair, once brown, was wet as if he’d washed it in preparation of meeting Allephon. The prince didn’t deserve attention or admiration from anyone here, but at least he wasn’t in this tent.
Desil looked around Cleve hoping to find Reela present. She turned around as she moved her hazelnut hair over her pointed ear to give Desil a glance of curiosity.
“Three of you are needed for this?” Cleve asked incredulously.
The swordsman and psychic appeared reluctant to move, even as Cleve stared at them one at a time.
“I would like to stay and listen,” said the swordsman.
“I would as well,” added the psychic.
“The two of you would be of more use continuing your work.” Cleve’s voice was as hard and unforgiving as rock.
They left in a hurry. Reela approached.
“Is that you, Desil Fogg?” she asked.
Cleve’s face softened as Desil nodded. “Desil, is Adriya all right?”
So they knew he was with her, which meant they must know Basen was with them as well. “She is.” Apparently, Desil didn’t need to repeat the line Basen had given him. Reela’s psyche was strong enough to determine his loyalty.
“Is Adriya still with you?” Reela asked.
“Yes. She isn’t far, but no one else in my party can be seen here, and that has to do with Allephon. It’s less of a risk for me to be here, but I would still be arrested if I was recognized by anyone loyal to Allephon. I know a truth about him that he’s keeping from you.”
Cleve put his finger over his mouth to indicate Desil should keep quiet, then he walked past Desil to peer out of the tent. Satisfied, Cleve returned but kept going past Desil, stopping in the middle of the tent. He sat on a sheepskin-draped bench and gestured for Desil to sit on the other bench across from him, a table between them. Desil obliged as Reela chose the spot beside her husband.
“What has Allephon told you so far?” Desil asked.
“You said this was urgent.” Cleve leaned in. “So get out what you know.”
“Fernan is dead.” Desil felt a weight lift off his shoulders. He’d made it. All would work out. “Beatrix Estlander believes her brother Allephon is responsible for their father’s death, and I do as well. Allephon hid the king’s passing, claiming he was sick when he had already died a week ago. We found his body in the castle. It was…old.” Rotten.
They didn’t appear surprised by the news. In fact, they hardly reacted at all as they glanced at one another.
“What makes you think it was Allephon?” Reela asked.
Words poured out of Desil’s mouth without thought. “Because he sent Micklin, Erwal, and Girgis to kill Beatrix. Only Micklin followed her and the rest of us to Kanoan, but the other two showed up with him at my mother’s tavern, along with the king’s adviser—Jimmin—who can lie undetected to psychics. Annah confirmed this. I don’t know her last name, and I don’t know the first name of the Girgis brother. He wants to kill me and Kirnich, while Micklin mostly is after Beatrix yet is willing to kill anyone in his way.”
Reela put up her hand. The spell of psyche dissolved, Desil’s conscious thoughts returning. He felt as if he’d come out of a dream where he’d watched himself act without control. Bastial hell, Reela is strong. It struck Desil with awe but terrified him all the same.
He got up and moved away from the bench. “What did you just do?” he asked her.
“I’m sorry for that.” She gestured at the bench. “Please sit.”
Was there a point in refusing if she had the power to force him onto the bench anyway? He cautiously moved his legs around to sit again.
No wonder Adriya was so direct about everything. She grew up under the guidance of a stern and disciplined man as well as possibly the most powerful psychic in Ovira. Psyche wasn’t supposed to be able to control another person, only cause feelings.
“Sometimes it’s easier to get out every little thing you know about a subject rather than going back and forth with questions and answers,” Reela said apologetically. “Psyche often helps with that.”
“I wish you had warned me first.” He felt as if he’d been a puppet with her holding the strings.
“It doesn’t work as well if you know it’s coming, but I promise I won’t do it to you again.”
“Will you now tell me what Allephon has said so far?” Desil asked.
“Not much.” Cleve lifted himself from the bench and began to pace. “He did tel
l us his father had died but not how.” Cleve turned to Reela. “It doesn’t make sense; why would he agree?”
“He must be planning something.”
“Agree to what?” Desil asked. It might be the same thing Hawthen had agreed to. A meeting?
Cleve glanced at Desil from the corner of his eye, ignoring his question. “Are you certain it was Allephon who sent Micklin after Beatrix—and are you sure it was Micklin, the pyforial mage?”
“It was definitely him. Before Micklin tried to kill me, he confirmed that Allephon had sent him. He said Allephon is to be the new king. Micklin protects him because Allephon promised to give Micklin free reign to kill whoever he wants after he murders Beatrix. Allephon must know how much of a threat she is to him to want her dead. He planned to have Micklin kill her in Kanoan as well as figure out how the Marros are causing explosions. By following us, he succeeded in the latter but not the former.”
Cleve shut his eyes for a breath as anguish took his face. “Desil—you must speak only in facts.”
“I am,” he insisted.
Cleve demanded, “Tell me what Allephon thinks Basen is doing right now.”
“Looking for akorell metal.”
“Is it true? Wait.” Cleve put up his hand as he turned away. “Don’t answer that. Instead, tell me where Allephon thinks all of you are?”
“He probably assumes we’re on our way here, which is why he hurried to come here first. What else did he tell you besides that his father died? I bet he wants your troops to watch for Basen or anyone loyal to him.”
“He wouldn’t order that of the Academy troops who are loyal to Basen,” Cleve said. “But I’m sure he’s issued that order to his own men, who he can trust.”