“You’re a wizard.” she said.
“No, m’lady. I am not. I failed in the wizard’s duel and ended up leaving that life behind me. Jarell has never forgiven me for that. We haven’t spoken in over five hundred years.”
At that point he smiled at the bowmaidens, “And I’m older than any one of you.”
Hilde shook her head and said, “Oh, you men. Can’t you get over yourselves for just a few minutes?”
Symon smiled and shrugged his shoulders.
“We’re men, m’lady. Sometimes known for selecting the incorrect choices in life.”
“Isn’t that the truth.”
“Well, allow me to hug my new brother,” said Hilde as she gave Symon a friendly hug.
“Sour feelings aside, I’m delighted to see my brother has found someone to stand beside him.”
“Thank you.”
“Anyway,” said Symon as they parted, “I came to advise you that Toll and his men are ready to start interrogating the prisoner. I thought you might want to be there.”
“As it happens, I would.”
She turned to the bowmaidens and said, “Caroline, come with me. You two stay here and await the two dragons that went hunting.”
She looked at the two remaining dragons and said, “You two keep a wary eye out. I’m not sure if we can expect any more trouble, but best to be cautious.”
Morgath and Venia nodded their understanding while Hilde and Caroline followed Symon toward the village center.
As they walked between a couple of buildings and into the square, Hilde could see immediately they were going to have trouble. The handful of survivors from the enemy army were tied to trees, with their arms stretched behind them and ropes looping around their necks and the tree trunks. Hilde could see the horror on the faces of most of the village folks, but a handful were completely at peace with what was happening.
As she got closer, she saw that the captain of the enemy troops had a dagger stuck in his shoulder. Captain Toll was in his face, demanding answers to his questions and because he wasn’t getting what he wanted, he was twisting the knife, causing the enemy captain to scream in pain.
“What the hell are you doing?!” yelled Hilde as she rushed to the tree.
Caroline followed right behind her and Symon was not too far behind.
Captain Toll turned and looked at Hilde, not used to being addressed in such a manner and especially not by a woman. She could see the darkness in his eyes and realized he wasn’t any better than Kerrick’s other troops she had seen in the Eastern Desert.
“I am getting answers! Now keep a civil tongue woman and stand back!”
Before Toll could blink an eye, Hilde pulled her sword and slashed it up under Toll’s chin. He couldn’t believe the speed with which she had brought her sword to bear and was caught completely off-guard.
A couple of Toll’s troops were about to step in and help him when Caroline’s sword appeared in the little Guildenian’s hand. Symon stepped right up beside her, pulling his own sword and telling the men to back down. They did back away because they knew that, even though Symon was the quieter of the two captains, he was as formidable as any soldier on the battlefield.
“What gives you the right to question my methods?” spat Toll.
Without turning around, Symon said over his shoulder, “I’d watch your tone if I were you, Toll. She is the wife of Jarell of Greenvale Castle. I’d say that gives her plenty of rights.”
A tremor of fear washed over Toll and Hilde could see it in his eyes. She pushed him away from the tree, with the point of the sword still in his throat.
“We don’t do things this way,” she retorted through gritted teeth.
She turned and looked to the side and said, “Caroline.”
She motioned toward the prisoner and Caroline took a couple of steps towards him and slammed her blade into the tree, slashing through the rope holding his neck and then slashed the ropes holding his hands.
Once freed he fell forward to his hands and knees, trying to catch his breath. Caroline sheathed her sword and knelt down next to him. He reached for the dagger, to remove it from his shoulder and she grabbed his hand.
“Leave it there for a moment. If you pull it, you’ll bleed to death before I can help you.”
He looked up at her and she could see there was a lot of anger still in his eyes, but she also saw some resignation that he would do as she said. It didn’t occur to her that he might have been trying to pull the dagger to use it on her.
She helped him sit back against the tree and he still looked like he wanted to kill. Symon could see it and he didn’t like it. He stepped over and put his blade under the enemy captain’s chin and lifted his face.
“She is trying to help you. If you even consider for one second, trying to hurt her, it will be the last thing you do in this lifetime.”
Caroline looked at him again and realized that she had put herself in a very bad position and was grateful that Symon was looking out for her.
She produced her own knife and sliced his tunic from the dagger to the collar, so she could get at his shoulder. Then she pulled her water skin from her belt and streamed it over the wound, washing away as much dirt and blood as she could.
“Now,” she said, looking into his eyes, “this isn’t going to feel terribly good.”
She took hold of the handle of the dagger and placed her free hand against his shoulder. She looked back into his eyes and for a second she thought she saw a small bit of fear, which she was sure was fear of the coming pain.
With a sudden pull, the dagger came out and she clamped her hand down over the wound, putting as much pressure as she could on it.
She dropped the dagger and put her other hand on his shoulder and closed her eyes. She could feel her healing energy start to flow into his shoulder and begin closing the wound. In less than a minute, the bleeding had stopped and the wound was closed enough to take her hands away.
She reached down and picked up the two knives and stood up. She looked at Symon and said, “He does need to be bound, but not to a tree.”
Then she turned and walked toward the other trees and motioned for a couple of the other soldiers to come with her. As she cut the other prisoners free, the soldiers bound their hands behind their backs, this time without trying to inflict pain.
Other soldiers joined in and helped cut the rest of the prisoners free and they transferred all of them to an area near their captain and had them sit on the ground.
Hilde put her sword away and turned to the group of prisoners. As she looked them over, she searched their faces, looking for one or two that might be willing to give up some information without being tortured. She saw a couple of the younger ones that looked like they might talk to a pretty woman.
She walked over to them and stood in front of them. Then she reached down and grabbed them under an arm and hauled each one to their feet. She looked around and saw a building near the square that was exactly what she was looking for.
“Come with me,” she ordered them as she turned and started walking toward the building.
Captain Symon fell in behind the two soldiers and put a hand on each of their shoulders and escorted them along behind her. When they walked into the building, it was exactly what Hilde thought it was. The village pub was a little dark, but it had tables and chairs and she motioned to a couple of them for the soldiers to sit in.
A man came walking into the pub and looked at her.
“Can I assume that this is your place?” Hilde asked him.
“It is.”
“Could you please get me a couple of pitchers of water and some mugs?”
“For them?” asked the pub owner, with a bit of a sneer in his voice.
Symon walked over and confronted the man.
“No, in fact, you can leave. We’ll let you know when we’re finished here.”
He turned the man back toward the door and thrust him out. Then he walked over and stepped behind the b
ar and filled a couple of pitchers with water and put together a tray with them and four mugs. Walking back over, he set the tray down and then used his knife to cut the ropes binding the prisoner’s hands. Setting a pitcher and a couple of mugs in front of them, he sat down across from them and Hilde took the fourth seat. The two men poured water for themselves and drained their mugs. They clearly had not been getting enough clean water for awhile.
After they finished their second mugs, the pitcher was empty and Hilde pushed the other to them.
“Did you need some more?” she asked.
“No, m’lady. I’ve quenched the burning thirst I had,” replied one of the men.
She nodded at him and then said, “We need to comprehend what is happening with Kerrick’s troops. Why did you continue fighting after the ogres had been killed?”
The talkative prisoner opened his mouth to speak, but the other one elbowed him in the arm, telling him to keep quiet.
“Let him speak,” said Hilde, looking at the tougher of the two.
“We will not speak to the likes of you,” he said with quite a bit of venom in his voice.
“The likes of me? A simple woman from Wyndweir, who wants nothing more than to see this war end, so I can go back to my simple life.”
“You are not as simple as you make yourself out to be, Hilde Teagan,” he spat at her. “This war is as much your fault as it is the dark wizard’s.”
Hilde felt as if she had been stabbed in the heart. She grabbed the edge of the table and her knuckles turned white with the pressure of her grip. Symon could hear her breathing catch in her throat and he looked at her. He saw her trembling and for the first time, he saw fear on her face.
“What does he mean, Hilde?”
She looked down at the table and couldn’t find any words. As she struggled with her emotions, Caroline walked into the pub and started toward them.
“Go ahead,” said the prisoner, “tell him how it was your family that drove the wizard, Kerrick, to madness and how he has come to be the dark wizard because of it. Tell him how this war is your fault.”
Without warning, Caroline pulled her knife and seized the soldier by the hair and yanked his head back, placing her knife at his throat. Symon was completely aghast at the sight of this little Guildenian about ready to behead this soldier.
“You say one more word about Lady Hilde and her involvement with the dark wizard and you will not draw another breath.”
The soldier was looking right into the dark, brown eyes of this little woman and he could tell his life was within seconds of ending if he opened his mouth one more time.
“Caroline!”
“No, m’lady! He will not speak this way about you,” she said as she looked across the table at Hilde.
“We need him alive.”
“No, we don’t. We have the other one.”
Caroline looked at the other soldier.
“You better start talking or I will have your head after I take his.”
No man was ever more fearful of a woman than this soldier was as he looked into her dark eyes.
“There is …”
As he began speaking, the other soldier tried waving him off, but Caroline dug the point of her blade deeper into his throat as she pulled his head back even harder. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t even gurgle a sound from his stretched throat. Hilde was reasonably sure he was about to die.
“There is,” continued the talker, “a new army heading this way from the east. They are coming around, from out of Gallyneer. They have been charged with retaking this land by the dark wizard, himself.”
“So, he still lives.”
“Yes, m’lady. He still lives. Injured and misshapen from massive burns to his body and face. And he seems to be growing even more evil with each passing day.”
“Injured?” asked Symon.
“Yes, from two arrows he received in the battle of the Eastern Desert. When they were removed, they inflicted considerable damage to his body. He can barely walk.”
Hilde’s gaze was boring right through the soldier. She said nothing about the arrows, but was still quite sad they hadn’t finished Kerrick off.
“You said burns,” she said.
“Yes, as he was being brought back to our camp by the dragon, it died from its own wounds and crashed into the desert floor. The dark wizard fell face down into the hot sand near a lava stream and was there for quite some time before he could be rescued. His face and upper body were burned quite badly. He now wears a helmet with a mask to cover his face.”
Hilde hung her head and said, “This is never going to end.”
She heard the other soldier still struggling to breathe and looked up. Caroline still had him held tightly, not giving him any room to speak, or breathe for that matter.
“Caroline,” said Hilde as she nodded to her.
The little Guildenian relaxed her hold and Symon stood up and walked around the table. He grabbed the soldier by the back of the tunic and hauled him out of the chair and walked him to the door of the pub. He called a couple of his soldiers over and turned him over to them. Then he walked back over and sat down.
“Caroline,” said Hilde, “go to Gwen and Lianna and tell them you’re leaving.”
“Have I done something to displease you?”
“Oh, no … quite the contrary. I want you to tell them to fly east and search for this army. Tell them to stay high and out of sight. They are merely to find the army and see how big it is and how far away they are, then come right back here. I want you and Morgath to fly back to Keirdon and tell Jarell and Pendivall what you’ve just heard. Tell them to get here with the troops as fast as they can. You might want to suggest that Captain Belgard and his boys be allowed to run on ahead to get here sooner.”
“Yes, m’lady,” said Caroline as she turned and raced out of the pub.
“She’s a little fireball, isn’t she?” asked Symon.
“I guess she is. I’ve never seen her like that.”
They looked across the table at the remaining prisoner.
“Now, what to do with you,” she wondered.
Symon spoke and said, “The dragons might be hungry.”
Fear coated the man’s face as he considered the possibility of being eaten by a dragon.
“No, one of them might be, but this man is so small, he wouldn’t even fill her up,” said Hilde. “The other two dragons have probably filled up on ogres.”
The prisoner let out a sigh and just shook his head. He smiled at their joking.
“You don’t think we’d feed you to the dragons?” asked Hilde with raised eyebrows.
“No, m’lady. You wouldn’t let Captain Toll torture Kreiger, so I’m guessing I won’t become dinner for the dragons. Even Kyle, the other guy, wouldn’t have been so scared of the Guildenian if he had remembered she saved Kreiger’s life.”
Symon shook his head. Their cover was blown.
“Look,” said the soldier, “we continued fighting after the ogres were killed because Kreiger is just as bad as them. If he had been killed in the battle or if you killed him now, the rest of the prisoners would stop fighting for the dark wizard.”
“Well,” said Hilde, “we’re not going to go out there and just kill him. We’re trying to avoid that as much as possible.”
“So, what’s the answer?” he asked.
“The answer is we kill just one person. Kerrick. Once he’s slain, all of his troops can return to Gallyneer and get back to their lives.”
“That’s just a dream, m’lady.”
“A dream worth fighting for, is it not?”
The soldier nodded.
“There are a group of Gallyneer soldiers, captured during the war in the Eastern Desert, that now fight beside the armies of Wyndweir. They are known as the Gallyneer Liberators. They are some of the fiercest warriors we have. They fight for that dream.”
The soldier looked at her and said, “I should like to join them.”
She smil
ed and nodded.
“Maybe you will.”
Symon stood up and motioned the soldier to stand and he ushered him to the door. He called a couple more soldiers over and turned him over to them. Then he walked back over to the table and sat down and poured himself a mug of water.
“So,” he said as he looked at her, “what did Kyle mean when he said you started this war?”
Hilde’s head sank and she let out a sigh.
“It’s a story I wish I could forget. Not one I relish telling again.”
“You’re my new sister. Though my brother and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms, he desired you for his bride and I know he wouldn’t have done that if you were a bad person.”
Hilde looked up at him, as he smiled at her and his blue eyes twinkled. She could see the resemblance between him and her husband.
She took a deep breath and then began recounting the story all over again. When she was finished she picked up her mug and took a drink, afraid to look him in the eyes.
“Well, you certainly have enjoyed a lively, young life. I’ll give you that.”
“I sometimes feel as if I’m unworthy of being forgiven for what my family and I did.”
“Nonsense. If you knew half the things Jarell and I did when we were younger, you’d realize everyone is worthy of forgiveness.”
“You two?”
“Sister, we were a couple of little hellions. That’s why our parents packed us off to a couple of different masters. They hoped it would burn the wildness out of us.”
She smiled at him and said, “Seems to have worked. Though Jarell is still a bit wild, he has channeled it into becoming a great wizard warrior.”
Symon nodded at her assessment.
“How about you, Symon?”
“How about me, what?”
“Why did you leave the wizard life behind and why did it cast a wall between you and Jarell?”
Symon took a deep breath, knowing it was his turn to come clean.
“It’s quite simple really. When I ventured into the pit for my duel, I was beaten soundly. I thought I was prepared, but I found I wasn’t even close. It shocked Jarell, who was there that day, watching from the top of the wall. Afterwards, he told me that he would work with me, so that when my name could be submitted again in fifty years, I would be ready. I told him I would think about it. Then I left and started toward home, but felt like I couldn’t face my family, so I turned east and headed to Gallyneer. I’ve been living there ever since. Jarell came and found me a few years later, but I had a wife and children by then and had no desire to go back to the life of a wizard. Jarell was not very happy. At that time, the war against Magrum the Dark was just getting started and he wanted me to come and fight with him. All I wanted to do was take my family and head as far east as we could go, to get away from the fighting and I did that. He and I haven’t spoken since.”
The Wrath Page 7