by Wacht, Peter
Gregory couldn’t recall, but he knew the stories. And the chill in the air, carried on the breeze with ever greater frequency, as if a bitter cold were about to settle across the land, reminded him of the stories that had been passed down to him by his forebearers, of a time when the survival of the Kingdoms hung in the balance.
“If you are faced with a dire need, we will be there,” said Thomas. “Fal Carrach is bound once again not only to the Highlands, but also to the Sylvana.”
Thomas smiled, shook Gregory’s hand, then turned his horse to the north. Giving Kaylie a quick wave, his Marchers followed after, intent on reaching the lower Highlands as soon as possible.
Gregory studied the Horn in his possession, marveling at the intricacy of its workmanship. Surprises. That boy was full of surprises. He placed the Horn in his saddlebag before urging his horse to the front of the column as he and his men began the final part of their journey back to Fal Carrach. Thomas was right. The world was changing, and not for the better. He feared that he would have cause to use the Horn sooner rather than later.
CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN
Unwanted Reminder
High King Rodric Tessaril, soon to be ruler of all the Kingdoms, or so he dreamed despite the unexpected and unwanted happenings at the Council of the Kingdoms, sat on his throne staring off into space. The torches flickered in response to a cold wind that forced its way into the room through an open window, setting the shadows in the large chamber dancing. Well past midnight, Rodric couldn’t sleep again. Several months had passed since Thomas Kestrel had been confirmed as Lord of the Highlands in this very room, and every time he thought about it, Rodric got a headache and his insides twisted into knots. Hence his decision to alight on his symbol of power and brood, as he’d done many of the nights since that terrible day.
“You don’t have time to sit and think, if you even have the capacity to think. Your master’s plans are in disarray. He has commanded that you correct the mistakes that have been made.”
The whispered hiss jolted Rodric from his macabre musings. He placed his hands on the armrests of the throne, ready to push off and bolt for the hidden door behind him, until he saw the shadow in front of him coalesce into a man, dressed all in black, his sharp-featured face nothing but angles. Lord Chertney, who had a particular knack for appearing unannounced.
“All the preparations are completed,” answered Rodric. “We move by the end of the week.”
“I hope so, Rodric, for your sake,” said Chertney. His master had said that the High King’s usefulness was coming to an end. Remembering the pain the Shadow Lord had inflicted upon him for his own recent failure, Chertney could only imagine what that might mean for the High King if the Shadow Lord did, indeed, withdraw his support. “Is it wise to trust in Killeran to accomplish the goal we’ve set for him? He’s yet to achieve any of his objectives.”
“It should be a simple matter,” replied Rodric wearily. “It’s his own Kingdom after all. What could he possibly do to harm our plans?”
“You tell me, Rodric, king of only Armagh. If you and Killeran had succeeded in implementing our master’s original plan, you’d have the Highlands by now. In fact, you would have had the Highlands ten years ago.”
Rodric’s face turned a bright red at the slight, but he controlled his temper. Previously, he had thought that he and Chertney were equals. He now realized that he had been mistaken, maintaining a foolish and arrogant assumption. The gifts their master had given to Chertney not only scared him, but also filled him with a jealousy that he found difficult to control.
“Killeran will do as he’s told,” said Rodric, hoping that he spoke the truth.
“That better prove to be the case.” Chertney chuckled, the sound more like steel scraping against stone. “The Shadow Lord is not pleased. This new Highland Lord must be eliminated. The Marchers have driven almost all of his dark creatures from the Highlands. That cannot continue. The Shadow Lord must have the Highlands.”
“He will, Lord Chertney. He will. I promise you. You know that if I attack the Highlands outright, Fal Carrach, Benewyn and several other Kingdoms will oppose me. I’m not strong enough yet to take them on openly, so a less direct approach is needed still.”
“I understand your dilemma, Rodric. But remember, it’s your dilemma. Our master has only so much patience, and time is running out. He grows tired of the failures and the excuses. Our master’s plans move quickly. He must have the Highlands.”
CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT
Marauders
“All has been done as you’ve ordered, Lord Killeran,” said a burly, stout reiver. “All of the villagers have been accounted for except for a couple shepherds. It won’t be long before we have them as well.”
“Good,” replied Killeran. “We can’t have any loose ends. That would not be good for either of us.”
“Yes, Lord Killeran.” The reiver captain saluted, then ran off to make sure his men had found the missing boys. He had understood the veiled threat in Killeran’s comment all too well.
Killeran walked through the remains of the Dunmoorian village, located just a few leagues from the Highlands near the northernmost shore of the Inland Sea, surveying the handiwork of the reivers he still led. Most of the cottages had burned to their foundations, though several still smoldered, the flames not yet having caught and their inhabitants still inside screaming to be freed. Screaming for mercy, but their cries and pleas fell on deaf ears. A few bodies lay on the ground, but Killeran told his men to leave them there. It would serve as more convincing evidence. Despite the smoke, the fires, the destruction, much to his relief Killeran’s immaculate armor retained its shine and his snow-white cloak remained pristine.
His men would be done soon, rooting out the last of the survivors, then they could move on to the next village, this one even closer to the Highlands. Two of his sergeants shot Highland arrows so that they punched into the trees, while several of his soldiers dressed a few of the dead men in Highland garb. Perhaps not the strongest claim against the Highlands if examined more closely, but it was enough. It would give them what they required.
Rodric needed an excuse to attack the Highlands, and Killeran was certain that this would do the trick, giving the High King the story that he needed to invade unimpeded and without the danger of bringing other Kingdoms into the dispute. The new Highland Lord had proven to be nothing more than an outlaw, sending his bands of marauding Marchers out into an adjacent, peaceful Kingdom to kill and pillage. Gregory and some of the other rulers would protest, but that’s likely all they would do. They would worry too much about their own borders, not wanting to get drawn into a conflict with Armagh. Gregory, in particular, would remain wary of Loris of Dunmoor, who would seek any excuse to bring his soldiers across the border into Fal Carrach, a Kingdom he had lusted after since he first ascended his throne. So once the narrative was complete, the other pieces would fall into place.
Killeran laughed softly as he wandered through the village, ignoring the screams of the Dunmoorian peasants, his own people, trapped in their burning homes. He had worried that the new Highland Lord had eliminated his one chance for wealth when he was expelled from the Highlands along with his reivers. But he now viewed that as only a temporary setback. He would be back in the Highlands quite soon by his reckoning, and this time with a much larger force behind him. And then, then he would finally receive what he so justly deserved.
CHAPTER THIRTY NINE
More to Learn
Kaylie walked into her chambers tired and sweaty. She placed her sheathed sword next to her bed, then dropped the daggers she’d worn at her belt onto the floor. The Princess of Fal Carrach had just completed her morning training session with Kael Bellilil, the focus today on knifework, how to defend and how to attack when fighting in close quarters. Fal Carrach’s Swordmaster had kept her at it for hours, not letting her go until she perfected the technique, he taught her to the point where he had drained all the energy from her. In fact, t
his had become her morning routine in the weeks since returning to Ballinasloe and the Rock, extended sessions in the training circle. Although she had not enjoyed her bout with Thomas on the way back from Eamhain Mhacha, she had learned quite a bit, and she wanted to learn even more. But now all she wanted, no, needed, was a bath and nap.
“You look like you’ve been dragged across the training yard,” said a commanding voice off to the side.
Kaylie turned quickly, reaching for the Talent, knowing that she could take hold of the natural magic of the world faster than she could reach down for her discarded sword or daggers.
“Well done, girl,” the voice said, obviously pleased. “Much faster than the last time we were together.”
“Where have you been, Rya?” Kaylie asked with some exasperation, releasing her hold on the Talent. She was excited that her tutor in the Talent had returned but she was a little irritated as well. “It’s been more than a month since I’ve seen you.”
“Things to do, girl,” replied the diminutive woman, her sharp blue eyes shining brightly.
Kaylie stood there waiting for more, then realized that Rya had said what she was going say. She shook her head in resignation. It was like talking with Thomas. He only said what needed to be said, and no more. Which brought a key question to mind.
“Why didn’t you tell me Thomas was your grandson? And you never told me he was alive after what happened in Tinnakilly. You let me believe he was dead.”
Rya snorted at Kaylie’s angry outburst. “So many questions, so little time. I didn’t tell you that Thomas was my grandson because you didn’t need to know. It wasn’t relevant to our training together.”
“But why didn’t you tell me he was alive?” Kaylie repeated. “You didn’t need to make me suffer.”
“I did tell you,” said Rya, rising from the chair she had been sitting in by the balcony. “You just weren’t paying attention. I told you his body was never found. That should have been enough.”
Kaylie stared at the forceful woman somewhat perplexed, not knowing what to say. Having this conversation with Rya felt like she was knocking her head against a brick wall.
“That doesn’t make sense. You could have simply said …”
Rya stepped up to Kaylie, wrinkling her nose. “You need a bath, girl. But that will have to wait. If you’re done trying to argue over this nonsense, I came here to continue your instruction. Time is moving faster than I expected. I need to make certain you’re ready.”
“Ready for what?” asked Kaylie, her confusion obvious.
“You’ll know when the time is right,” replied Rya cryptically. “Now if you’re not able to shift your focus, we can do this another time.”
Kaylie bit back an angry retort. Arguing with this woman was like trying to convince a bull to move from the center of the street. It wasn’t worth the effort. The bull was going to go where the bull wanted to go. She took a deep breath, trying to release some of her growing irritation.
“What did you have in mind?” Kaylie asked.
“That’s the spirit,” said Rya. “You had mentioned that when you first met Thomas, he taught you how to search.”
“Yes, he did.”
“Have you tried to do it since?”
“A few times. Just a few weeks ago I did it again with Thomas by the Inland Sea. We were …”
Rya’s keen look cut off the flow of Kaylie’s words. “We can discuss the details of your relationship with my grandson another time. Can we focus on the task at hand?”
“Of course,” replied Kaylie sheepishly, her cheeks coloring slightly.
“Good. Now, how far can you search?”
“From Ballinasloe to the borders of Dunmoor and Benewyn. Maybe just a bit beyond. That’s about it.” Kaylie’s frustration at her failure to expand the radius of her search was plain on her face. No matter what she tried, she’d hit a wall in this particular application of the Talent.
“We’re going to change that this morning,” said Rya. “Take hold of the Talent.”
Kaylie did so, enjoying the feel of the natural magic of the world as it settled within her.
“Take in a bit more than that, girl,” instructed Rya. “We’re going well beyond Fal Carrach today.”
Kaylie quickly complied, excited by the prospect of what was going to happen next.
“Good. Well done, girl. Do you remember how Thomas showed you how to extend your senses?”
Kaylie nodded.
“Do that now,” instructed Rya.
Kaylie closed her eyes, seeking to focus her thoughts. In an instant, she felt as if she were floating above herself, looking down as she stood in the center of the room, eyes closed, hands held slightly raised to the side. Rya had come to stand next to her, close enough to whisper in her ear.
“Well done, girl,” said Rya. “Well done, indeed. Now take in more of the Talent and gradually extend your senses.”
Kaylie pulled in more of the Talent as Rya instructed and then began pushing out her senses in all directions. Droplets of sweat popped out on her forehead, her energy draining quickly as she grew tired trying to manage so much of the Talent at one time.
“There’s the problem, girl,” said Rya. “Focus your search. Trying to search in all directions at once won’t get you anywhere. Concentrate on the west, toward the Burren and then the Inland Sea. Take it a step at a time.”
Kaylie responded to the whispered command, centering herself once more then expanding her search again, but this time only in the direction Rya had specified. In seconds she was soaring above Ballinasloe, heading toward the west, the trees of the Burren quickly approaching.
“Well done, girl. Keep going. Let’s see what you can do.”
Kaylie sensed the pride in Rya’s whispered voice, the woman pleased by her success. Taking in more of the Talent, she sped across the forest then out over the Grasslands, the shimmering water of the Inland Sea beckoning. She exulted in the freedom she felt, reveling in the knowledge that she could see so much of the Kingdoms whenever she desired. She already had searched farther than she had the last time that she had been with Thomas. As she approached the glistening blue of the Inland Sea, Rya gave her a new instruction.
“Take us to the north, girl. Take us into the Highlands.”
Kaylie smiled to herself. Rya must have known that’s where she wanted to go next. She turned her focus toward the peaks of the Highlands, which she could see rising into the sky just beyond the northern shore of the Inland Sea. In less than a minute she had entered the lower Highlands. The beautiful, rugged countryside, the craggy mountaintops separated by deep, evergreen forests, streaked by below her.
“That’s it, girl. Now a slightly different task. Locate the Crag.”
Kaylie slowed her progress. She knew the Crag was somewhere to the north, maybe to the east as well. But how did she get there? She had never visited the Crag before. In fact, she had only been to the very southern edge of the Highlands as a young girl, and that was the extent of her experience in the Kingdom to the north of Fal Carrach. Simply searching the Highlands for the fortress would be a waste of time and energy, and obviously Rya was judging how she would solve the problem. So, what to do?
An idea came to her. Whether it was a good idea or not she didn’t know. But at least it was an idea. She thought of Thomas, knowing that he had returned to the Highlands and guessing that he was in the vicinity of the Crag. Much to her delight, she could feel him, faintly, to the northeast. Excited by her discovery, she began searching in that direction. The minutes passed quickly as she flew between the mountain peaks, enjoying the crispness of the view, marveling as the bright sunshine played off the snow-covered spires. As the leagues passed beneath her, her sense of Thomas became stronger. She was getting closer.
Finally, she broke through the rocky peaks into a lush valley of green that stretched between the mountains for more than a league. A dark mass appeared in the very center. Skimming over the treetops, Kaylie smiled victori
ously knowing that Thomas was just in front of her as an enormous rock came into focus that rose hundreds of feet into the air and dominated the valley. As she approached, the stone coalesced into the Crag, the stronghold of the Highlanders. She took in the eight towers that formed the Crag’s perimeter, the tops of some no more than piles of stone. One tower, though, standing on the eastern side closest to the sea, rose higher than the rest and caught her attention. A large kestrel perched on the top of the tower, its sharp eyes scanning the terrain in all directions. And in the sky around it almost a dozen kestrels circled the fortress and surrounding forest, the large raptors twisting and turning in response to the strong gusts of mountain air that blew into the valley.
Kaylie halted her progress, settling over the Crag.
“Wonderfully done, girl,” said Rya, more than satisfied with her student’s ingenuity in solving the problem placed before her. “Now let’s head back to Ballinasloe.”
Kaylie acknowledged Rya’s request with a slight nod, but remained where she was for a time, gazing down on the Crag. She began to circle the Highland fortress slowly, watching the many Highlanders below as they repaired the massive citadel. Various work crews were filling the huge holes in the outer curtain while others rebuilt the towers that had collapsed. Yet still she drifted over the Crag until finally she found what she was looking for.
Thomas was by the northeastern side of the keep, working with a group of Highlanders as they moved large blocks of black stone in place to replace those that had been blown apart by the warlocks when they attacked the Crag a decade before. She watched him for a moment, not knowing why she did so, other than desiring a quick glimpse.