“Gods, we need allies. Even if there are only two, they’re welcome to come and fight alongside us.”
“They shall prove invaluable scouts,” Kol’Cara said. “It is possible that when word of what occurred spreads, more will flock to the High Father’s standard.”
“You think so?” Karus was heartened to hear that.
“I do.”
The group around Amarra broke up. She said a few more words to individuals, then scanned about. She spotted him and started over. Though she had slept deeply the night before, there were heavy bags under her eyes. The healings had clearly taken some toll upon her. Earlier this morning she had gone to the river and bathed.
Despite looking worn and tired, Karus found his heart stirring at the sight of her free of the clinging dust and clean as fresh mountain snow. In anticipation of their flight, she had braided her hair into a single tight ponytail. It exposed her delicate ears and high cheekbones. Karus felt his breath catch in his throat. Even though elven women were perfection incarnate, they had nothing on her external and inner beauty. She was more than he could have ever hoped for, more even than he’d ever desired.
Si’Cara and Tal’Thor stood as Amarra walked by them. They followed after. Amarra shot Karus a wink before turning to the dragons. Her eyes traveled over Cyln’phax’s injuries and her expression became quite grave.
“You are able to travel?” Amarra asked the dragon. “You will not aggravate your injuries by carrying us back to Carthum?”
My wounds will not slow me down in the least, Cyln’phax said. They are minor and will soon heal whether I rest or fly. In truth, I have had much worse.
She has, indeed, Kordem said. My mate’s wounds are slight.
Looking them over, Karus very much thought that was an understatement.
Amarra studied the two dragons for a long moment more, as if she were attempting to divine whether or not they were lying. She nodded to herself, almost imperceptibly.
“Shall we go, then?” Amarra asked.
As you wish, mistress, Kordem said. We stand ready.
Karus was relieved to finally hear those words. He turned to Si’Cara and Tal’Thor. There was one last matter that needed to be dealt with.
“I am sure I speak for both Amarra and myself,” Karus said. He felt the offer had to be made. “You may both return home if you wish.”
There was an uncomfortable moment of silence as husband and wife shared a glance. At his side, Karus felt Kol’Cara stiffen. He glanced over briefly at the elf, wondering what was wrong.
“We cannot return home,” Tal’Thor said, “ever.”
“The warden is dead,” Karus said. “Surely you can go home now.”
“I will not be welcome in any elven community,” Si’Cara said with deep sadness. “The warden died by my hand and mine alone. At best, I am an outcast. At worst, my people will seek justice.”
“Sadly, it is as my sister says,” Kol’Cara said, “and Tal’Thor, as her husband, shares her shame.”
“Shame?” Amarra exclaimed in outrage. “What you did was right. There is no shame in that.”
“Oh, but there is, mistress,” Si’Cara said. “Amongst elves, murder, whether justified or no … can never be tolerated, or condoned. It will be up to the next warden to decide whether I should live or die. Either way, I shall spend the rest of my days in exile, and so too will my husband.”
“You will not spend them alone.” Tal’Thor placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. “I accepted you with all of my heart, through the good times and the bad. I will be with you … always … to the end.”
Si’Cara’s eyes watered as she gave her husband a woeful smile that was filled with a terrible, almost wrenching sadness.
“That wasn’t murder,” Karus said. “The warden made her bed. It was justice. The warden needed killing and it is as simple as that.”
“My people will make no distinction,” Si’Cara said.
“What about him, your brother?” Karus asked, gesturing toward Kol’Cara. “He and his warriors killed elves. Does he share a similar fate?”
“We have already accepted our exile,” Kol’Cara said matter-of-factly. “We turned our backs on our people when we agreed to go with the High Master. There is no going back for us either. Though in our case, in a way … we are beyond the Elantric Warden’s law. My people dare not hold us to account. The High Master of Obsidian saw to that. The Anagradoom do as we see fit in the pursuit of our goals.”
Amarra blinked back tears. She stepped forward and embraced both Si’Cara and Tal’Thor, pulling them near to her.
“You are both of the High Father’s flock,” Amarra said, leaning her head toward theirs. “You shall always have a place with us. You are of our people now, a people of faith. No longer do you answer to the law of the warden, but that of High Father. Do you understand me?”
Si’Cara gave forth a half sob and hugged Amarra back. Her shoulders shook. After a moment, Amarra stepped back from both of them. She leaned upon her staff as if the world were on her shoulders.
“Thank you, mistress. But I fear it will not matter.” Si’Cara wiped at her eyes. “If they want, they will come for us regardless.”
“Not on my watch,” Karus growled. “You both are family now. We look after our own.”
“It is as Karus says,” Amarra said.
“Thank you, mistress,” Si’Cara said.
I really wish you would not encourage this, Karus, Cyln’phax said with a disgusted tone. You and Amarra are becoming too fond of these elves.
Amarra shot the dragon an irritated look, then turned to Karus.
“We go now, yes?” she said to him in Latin. “Before the dragon sticks her tail in her mouth?”
Cyln’phax blew out a series of huffs that Karus took to be amused laughter. A little flame shot out. This wasn’t the first time Karus had caught them following him and Amarra speaking the language of Rome. Clearly the dragons understood Latin as well. Karus wondered how.
“We can go,” Karus said in Common. He glanced back up the slope of the hill. Dennig was still up there, watching. “We have a dwarf to get back to his people. And then …” He turned back to face Amarra. “We can go home.”
“Home?” Amarra asked.
“Home to the legion,” Karus said. “Home to our people.”
“Home.” A tiny smile tugged at her lips as she repeated the word. “I like that. I like that very much.”
Karus turned to Kol’Cara. “Let’s get the packs and any supplies you need secured to the dragons.”
More elves, Cyln’phax said sullenly. Smoke escaped from the dragon’s snout as her breath hissed out. It would only be worse if there were more dwarves. Can I eat one, Karus? Please? Now that you have plenty, you would not miss an elf or two … would you?
Karus was amused to see Kol’Cara’s head snap around to look at the dragon. The elf was clearly wondering if the creature was serious.
“I thought you just ate?” Karus played along, though it was a struggle to keep from laughing. “You were out hunting, were you not?”
You are probably right, Cyln’phax said, sounding mildly disappointed. An elf might spoil my meal of wild teska that’s digesting. Well … maybe if I get hungry later, you will let me eat one?
Kol’Cara looked over at Karus, suddenly less sure. There was a questioning look to his eyes. It was Karus’s turn to give him a shrug of his shoulders. Karus turned away and went to get his packs. The sooner everything was secured, the sooner they’d be away.
Less than an hour later, Karus was once again upon Cyln’phax’s back. It had begun to drizzle. Wrapped tightly in his cloak and the blanket that Si’Cara had provided, Karus was hot. He had a feeling that shortly he would be wet, cold, and miserable, something to which he was not looking forward.
Half a dozen elves and one dwarf were riding on Cyln’phax’s back. The elves seemed somewhat excited, like Si’Cara had been on her first flight. Amarra and the rest of the elv
es who had chosen to accompany them were mounted on Kordem. This included the Anagradoom and two additional rangers.
Preparations to burn the remains of the warden, the wizard, and the elven dead had been completed. There was one large pyre for the warden and a series of smaller ones for the other elves. The first of the fires had been set. Smoke was just beginning to swirl lazily upward into the gray, drizzling sky. The elves stood well back, their gazes firmly fixed upon the pyres. It was as if they had turned their backs upon their fellows who were about to fly off on the dragons, which they might have done.
Thunder rumbled off in the distance, a promise of more rain, as Cyln’phax spread her leathery wings. The dragon flexed her wings once, then leapt up into the air and gave a series of powerful flaps that drove them upward. Karus was pressed into his seat. The wind began to blow in his face and the drizzle began to pelt him.
He looked back down at the smoking pyres and the elves remaining behind. He hoped that the next warden would not be as difficult and stiff-necked. He knew he couldn’t count on that. No matter how justified, there might be serious repercussions for what had occurred under the cover of the trees below them. Still, that was a problem for another day.
Karus’s thoughts drifted to Amarra and her father, the former King of Carthum. Was he still out there? Would they encounter him? Would he prove to be another problem to be faced? He had too many problems on his plate at the moment and would not worry about another one that had yet to materialize. Karus’s hand dropped down to the hilt of his new sword. Whenever he touched it, he felt the tingle in his palm. It raced up his arm, then was gone. Though he could not put his finger on exactly why, he found something comforting about the feeling.
As the dragons climbed higher, Karus looked over at the Fortress of Radiance. The keep was nothing but a large mound of stone now. They had done it and successfully retrieved Rarokan. He was coming away with allies and, surprisingly enough, a friend. Now, he needed to not only find more allies, but also figure a way off this world, before it became too late and the Horde washed over his legion like an avenging tide.
“The hard part lies ahead,” Karus said to himself.
You have the right of that, Karus, Cyln’phax said to him. What lies before us all will be most difficult, but faith and determination will get us through it. Now, talk no more. Let me fly in peace, for we have a long way to go.
Epilogue
Krix gazed around at the bodies of orcs lying scattered across the forest floor. The elves had left the orcs to rot where they had fallen. No thought had been given to any funeral rites, no respect offered. To the elves, orcs and most other races were considered lesser species. That irritated Krix immensely. Though he himself was human, these had been honorable warriors. They deserved better.
The body of the wyrm was off to his right. The loss of the orcs he could accept. The loss of the wyrms irritated him further. Four had been lost, all irreplaceable. Yet, what truly enraged him was the opportunity that had slipped through his fingers. If only he had been closer and not off world at the time the fortress’s defenses were finally breached. If only he had been able to come himself … If … There were always plenty of ifs to go around.
He clenched his fists, the rage threatening to overwhelm his reason. He fought it down, beating it back, for it never ended well when the monster inside him was released. Keeping the beast locked up in its box was a struggle he did not always win. When it escaped, Krix had almost always regretted it.
“Harak is dead?” Krix asked, turning to face Castor’s minion, a twisted, misshapen, ugly thing. He had generally thought Castor’s most devoted servants were pathetic creatures. That he had to consort with one bothered him little. Castor was a minor deity in the alignment, yet a steadfast ally. Therefore, the creature was to be treated with due respect. Krix needed the minion and the forces it commanded, a vital component of his Horde.
In truth, he liked this minion. It had proven not only reliable, but also capable in carrying out tasks. Krix valued anyone who had such qualities.
“Yes, Lord Krix,” the minion responded. It came out as a hiss. “Harak did not survive. I found his body half crushed by the wyrm.”
“That saves me having to punish the fool,” Krix said, for had Harak had any brains he would have taken overwhelming force. “The noctalum have been taking too many of our wyrms of late. We can’t spare the four Harak lost.”
“It is the Knight of the Vass,” the minion replied. “The knight drives the noctalum onward in their hunt, encourages them.”
How unlucky was he to have a Knight of the Vass trapped on this world? And just to make matters worse, a flight of noctalum, allies of the Vass, were stuck on Tannis as well. Krix cracked his neck. It was maddening and drove him to distraction.
He swung his gaze unhappily around the battlefield, seeing but not really looking. He had toyed with the idea of allowing the knight to escape through one of the World Gates just to get her off Tannis. The gods only knew what trouble the knight would cause on another world. How would such an act come back to bite him with the confederacy and the council? Surely it would. No, he would have to deal with the knight himself … somehow, in some way.
“Eventually, we will have to do something about her,” Krix said, “and the noctalum, too. The cost of such a venture is the only thing holding me back.”
“Yes, we will,” the minion agreed, “and it will likely mean the loss of most of our remaining wyrms. Better to do it sooner, I think, then delay much longer. She grows in strength with each passing day.”
Krix gave a grunt. His rage bubbled up, becoming almost uncontrollable. The minion was likely correct, but that was not what enraged him.
“This”—Krix held out his arms—“is not just a travesty, but a waste of an opportunity.”
“We believe a good number of elves perished in the fight,” the minion said, as if that made their losses more palatable. “And I understand the Elantric Warden fell in battle as well.”
Krix looked sharply over at the minion.
“The witch, Te’Mava, is finally dead?”
“I thought that would please you,” the minion said, its twisted mouth opening in a sick grin. “My spies have confirmed this. En’Sis’Lith has also passed on into the shadow.”
“This wasn’t a complete shambles,” Krix said, feeling his rage begin to wane just a tad. An opportunity had been lost while another may have just presented itself. Then the rage returned. “Still, we did not get the sword.”
“No,” the minion agreed, “but we know who has Rarokan and where he will be taking it. That in itself is invaluable.”
“Carthum,” Krix said. “This Karus, from the cradle world of humanity. He and his legion must be great warriors to have been brought to Tannis.”
“That is likely true,” the minion said. “We have two columns totaling forty-five thousand within easy marching distance. The humans from Earth are few in number.”
Krix gave a nod, but did not immediately reply. The human soldiers occupying Carthum were an unexpected complication. They had inexplicably somehow traveled to Tannis from humanity’s cradle world. Such things were not supposed to be possible. Cradle worlds were sacrosanct, untouchable, and had been locked away by the gods themselves. Someone had meddled, and the thought of it made Krix deeply uncomfortable, for an escalation in the war was now a very real possibility. The gods themselves might intervene more directly.
Tannis had been a relative backwater. But now that these humans from Earth had come, the council and confederacy had become very interested in speeding up the conquest of this world. Assets and additional forces that had been denied in the past were now available and being pushed upon him. Some of those forces, the more troublesome, he did not desire but could not refuse either.
“Those two columns were intended to trap and corner a dwarven war band,” Krix said, recalling the strategic situation around Carthum, a land yet to be occupied by his forces. “Is that not correct?�
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“Yes,” the minion said. “I could divert them to Carthum.”
“No,” Krix said. “That would allow the dwarves to escape. Destroying a war band is something we cannot pass up. Deal with the dwarves first. Then turn your attention to Carthum. Remember, these humans are from a cradle world. They would not have been brought to Tannis were they not strong, a force that by rights should be considered quite dangerous. We need to proceed with caution, at least until we know more about them.”
“I am not sure that is wise, my lord,” the minion said. “Already they gain allies against us, refugees fleeing from lands we have overrun. What if they give these broken peoples strength of heart? What if they give them the will to resist? If we allow them too much time, they may assemble a mighty host against us. We should consider turning the full might of the Horde upon them … before they become too strong and a threat to our plans.”
The ifs again, Krix thought as he considered the minion’s words. The creature did have a point. He turned the matter over in his mind, attempting to look at it from all angles. The minion waited.
“No,” Krix said finally. “Not yet. There are still powerful peoples on Tannis. If they are seeking allies, we must do everything in our power to deny them such.”
“What are you thinking, my lord?”
“We need to take advantage of our good fortune.” Krix held his arms out about him. “You said it yourself. The elves have lost their warden, and wizard. All they have left is a half-trained apprentice, who will now need to step into the role of the master. They are weak, finally vulnerable. Now, I think, is the time to strike.”
“You mean to turn our focus and effort to the elven forests?” the minion said, sounding somewhat but not completely surprised. “Our plan was always to deal with the elves after the dwarves and humans of this world were either defeated or subjugated. Even without the warden and their wizard, such an endeavor will be quite costly, my lord.”
“Yes, it will be expensive, but not nearly so much as it would have ultimately been,” Krix said, becoming convinced this was the right path to take. “Now is our chance.”
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