Song of Echoes

by R. E. Palmer

  Elodi picked up the shirt, folded it, and placed it in the open trunk. ‘But will it change his plans for the fleet?’

  ‘I doubt it, he seems determined to send the elites south.’ He closed the lid. ‘I guess we know your mission to get you out of Archonholm.’ Bardon fastened the strap. ‘Could your forces resolve the situation at the mines?’

  ‘A detachment left Calerdorn yesterday. But if these raiders pushed the Archonian Guard into a siege, I’d question whether my men could do anything to help.’

  Bardon turned to the window. ‘Those coming south can only be as far as Noor at most. The Archon could send them back, but would they be enough?’

  Elodi sat on the trunk. ‘Have you been to Drunsberg?’ Bardon had not. She continued. ‘It’s not about numbers. The road is narrow and exposed, approaching from both directions. That’s why I’m struggling to think how the raiders could have reached the barricade, let alone take the town.’

  ‘They’ve taken the town? I thought you said it was a siege?’

  ‘It is. According to the message, the raiders broke through the barricade and now occupy the town. I assume the guards have retreated to the mines. The raiders must hold the ravine and the platform.’

  Bardon exhaled, shaking his head. ‘Then it’s far worse. I thought it was a matter of clearing the road to bring in fresh soldiers.’

  Elodi gazed at the forest outside. ‘This is more than a group of raiders from the north. They must have had help to breach the defenses. And will the Ruuk be satisfied with just holding the mines?’

  Bardon sat beside her on the trunk. ‘You’re worried about Calerdorn?’

  ‘We can easily hold back the usual rabble, but if more come such as those who took Drunsberg...’

  Bardon stood. ‘I will send word to Keld for re-enforcements to march to Calerdorn’s aid, if, of course, that is your wish.’

  She touched his arm. ‘Thank you. Your offer is most welcome.’

  ‘For defensive purposes, may I suggest a detachment of spearmen? I’m afraid it wouldn’t be more than four hundred, but they’re tough and a match for anything the north could throw at them. I’ll request a division led by Captain Ruan. He’s a very capable soldier, experienced in the ways of the Nordruuk rogues. Trust me, I wouldn’t want to square up to them myself.’

  Elodi smiled. ‘I can believe that. I will ask my staff to speak to your people to arrange safe passage.’ She stood and took his hand. ‘Thank you, I hope I’m in a position when I can return the favor one day.’

  The Castellan’s man entered. ‘They’re ready to leave, Lord.’

  Bardon released Elodi’s hand. ‘This is the last, Fernald. Please take it down and let them know I’ll be with them shortly.’ The man turned to the door and clicked his fingers. Two large orderlies entered the room, hoisted the trunk onto their shoulders as if empty, turned and left.

  Fernald cleared his throat. ‘Will there be anything else, my Lord?’

  ‘No, thank you, that will be all. And I appreciate your assistance during my stay, brief as it was.’ Fernald bowed and left the room. Bardon held out his arm. ‘Would you be so kind to accompany me to the Menon Gate, Lady Harlyn?’

  Elodi wrapped her arm in his and felt her heart sink. A hundred thoughts passed through her mind, but not one made it to her lips. She sighed. ‘How long will it take to reach Caermund?’

  ‘An arduous seven days, I am informed. A detachment from the First Horse are to escort me. I hope I can stay on the back of their beasts. It’s been a few years since I last rode at speed.’ He stretched his back. ‘I trust my belongings won’t be too far behind in the wagons, I’ve gotten used to life’s small luxuries.’ They reached the top of the stairs leading from the citadel.

  Elodi stopped. She turned to Bardon and clutched his hands. ‘This is madness. You know it, I know it.’

  He smiled as best he could. ‘Duty calls. If the Archon wishes it, it will be done. My steward is capable enough, he will have received the messages. The people of Broon are stronger than most. And as our constitution stipulates, if he receives no word from me for one month, the trials to find my successor will commence.’ He held up his hand as Elodi went to speak. ‘But let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.’ He laughed. ‘Who knows? I could be Lord of both Broon and Elmarand before the summer is done.’ He turned and led Elodi down the steps.

  She reluctantly followed. ‘I wish for all our sakes that turns out to be true.’

  Elodi found their parting harder than she had anticipated. In the short time of her visit, Elodi had come to cherish Bardon’s friendship. She stood at the Menon Gate along with a large crowd to watch the departure. If the Archon had craved secrecy only days before, he now seemed keen to make a show of Bardon’s departure. But she could see why. The one hundred and twenty knights of the First Horse accompanying Bardon made for an impressive sight. Elodi took hope from the powerful horses and fine men in their glistening armor, riding with confidence under their fluttering banners. If the rest of the elite forces allocated to the fleet were half as imposing, perhaps it was possible to take Elmarand and win the impending war. But much depended on what lay in wait beyond the mountains. And, despite the Archon’s assurances, the fleet would still be sailing into the unknown.

  A black speck in the sky caught her eye. High above, a messenger bird glided the last part of its long journey. With its wings stretched wide, it circled with ease, slowly descending as it made its way to the North Tower. Elodi watched with awe, standing still amongst the bustling crowd returning to their duties. How she longed to soar above the city, forget her worries, and bath in the warm air. How she envied the bird, majestic in flight, oblivious and untroubled by the gravity of the note carried in its pouch. But she had her own duty to perform, just as the bird above. Elodi turned to follow the messenger as it dropped towards the tower, open its wings and reach out its claws to land on the ledge. Without knowing how she knew, Elodi suspected the bird came from Drunsberg to bring news that would change the course of her life. She did not have to wait long for confirmation.

  ‘You may enter.’ The Proctor opened the door to the Vice-Archon’s room. The woman sat as she had in the Great Hall, impossibly straight with a stern, if pale face. The Vice-Archon’s hand rested on her desk. Beneath, a piece of paper, curling up at the edges, carried news Elodi would not want to hear.

  26. Brothers in Chains

  Toryn’s throbbing head lolled on his aching neck and cracked onto a hard surface behind. He blinked away stars to find he lay in a wagon used as part of the make-shift barricade back at the mine. A shaft of moonlight streaked through one of the many rips in the canopy. The light fell on a dozen guards and a miner he recognized from the parapet. Most slept, or grumbled as their battered bodies rolled about on the hard floor. Toryn winced as the wagon hit a rut and the rusty bands securing his wrists and ankles dug into swollen, bruised flesh. He tried to swallow, but the foul taste in his dry mouth would not shift. Visions of the sickly green hue of Uldrak’s poison creeping up the rock face, came flooding back. But what of—?

  Hamar! Toryn groaned. His head dropped back and the remaining tears he had stemmed in the hall flowed. Hamar had always seemed ancient, so the boy in him had clung to the belief the old man would always be at his side. But now he was alone, truly alone. It was Hamar who had put up with his youthful antics, spawned from the frustration of being confined to his tiny village. It was Hamar who understood his need to discover the realms beyond the fences. Toryn now appreciated Hamar’s stories were as much for his benefit as they were for Hamar to preserve his memories. The tales had served to sooth his restless soul, and satisfy his curious mind. They allowed Toryn to experience the outside world, and thus prevent him doing anything that would get him into trouble. He knew in a way Hamar would always be at his side. For every situation, Hamar had a story to offer advice, cheer him up, or to calm him. Wherever he would find himself, Toryn knew he could rely on the old man’s words to come to mind. And, in
an odd way, it was an honor to have been with him at the end, no matter how brutal it had turned out. He had glimpsed how Hamar must have fought in his prime. Toryn managed a smile. Hamar and Elwold may have been long-retired and out of practice, but Toryn took pleasure in the shock on the raiders’ faces as the old guards had taken them by surprise.

  The wagon lurched, stirring more men awake. Toryn studied his fellow captives strewn about the boards. Were all of them like Hamar? But that had not helped against the devilry Uldrak unleashed. His stomach recalled the burning eyes beneath the creature’s hood. If more like Uldrak led the Ruuk, how could they repel such a force?

  The wagon rode over another bump in the road. Toryn needed to know what lay outside. He shuffled around, bearing the pain between gritted teeth to look out of a gap in the canvas. The mountains had gone. A plain covered in a blanket of snow stretched as far as he could see in the moonlight. He wondered if it stayed this flat until it eventually reached the Draegelan Trench. He imagined determined ranks of his ancestors defending their lands with their spear tips and armor glinting in the light of the moon. But what dark force had threatened them to justify constructing the deep trench? Hamar had said no matter how impressive the Caerwal Gate, it paled compared to the feat of digging the trench. Toryn had listened in awed silence as Hamar told of the near-impossible task of transporting the quarried stone south to build Calerdorn and Keld. He had sat wide-eyed, trying but failing to envisage the sight of the huge wagons, made from whole tree trunks, hauled by giant beasts across the rough terrain. He smiled as he wondered how much of the tale was Hamar’s invention.

  Toryn gazed up at the sky. The light of a thousand stars spilled through a wide gap in the clouds. He risked sticking his head out further to find the bear and wolf. It took a few moments, but he found them; here they fought their endless duel for supremacy of the north, a little higher in the sky.

  A horse approached. He ducked back inside and bit his tongue against the sharp pain cracking his skull. The miner opposite stirred. Toryn wiped the tears from his face with a tattered sleeve. The miner nodded over Toryn’s shoulder. ‘They’re taking us north. That’s us and another wagon behind. Hope you’ve brought your coat.’ He shivered. ‘We passed through the Drunny Gate yesterday morning. I don’t think they’ll be closing it for a while, not much left.’ He grinned, pointing to his mouth. ‘Just like my teeth. But I didn’t have too many to lose before the fight.’

  Toryn frowned. ‘Wait, did you say yesterday?’

  The miner nodded. ‘They must have drugged us. That’ll account for your muzzy head.’ The miner pointed to his temple. ‘Didn’t work on me for some reason. Ha! Must be down to the poison passing for ale in the tavern I spend most of my time. But I’m forgetting myself. The name’s Jedrul, from Lunn. But I prefer Jed. I’d shake your hand if I could.’ He pulled on the chain. ‘It seems our hosts aren’t so keen to let us enjoy the ride and make new friends.’

  ‘Toryn, from Midwyche, that’s in—’

  ‘Darrow.’ Jedrul chuckled. ‘I used to dream about living on the west side of the peaks to escape the bitter easterlies.’ He struggled to sit up. ‘I passed through Darrow, let me see, must be twenty years ago, to come to Drunny, been here ever since, well, until today.’

  Toryn tried to return the smile. ‘I guess it’s warmer this side.’

  ‘And far prettier. Lunn is as grim as it sounds, grim even for Broon. Mostly flat from the ocean as far as the eye can see. The only features are bogs and lakes, but they offer no shelter. The wind comes howling in from the sea and meets no resistance until the mountains.’

  ‘Hamar, my err… grandfather, told me about the place. But he wouldn’t be in a hurry to return. Sorry, no offence.’

  Jedrul grinned. ‘None taken. You won’t find any in Lunn who’d disagree. They say only the wise leave, and the fools return.’ He looked up. ‘Now I come to think about it, that doesn’t make any sense. Funny. It’s taken me twenty years to figure that out.’ He pointed to his cheek. ‘Anyway, you can also spot folk from the east coast. Doesn’t matter how long it’s been since we left, we still wear our Lunn Leather faces.’

  ‘Leather?’

  ‘Skin as tough as a cow’s hide. All down to the never-ending salty breeze.’ He winked. ‘You folks this side of the mountains would call it a gale. They say if it ever stopped blowing, we’d all fall over seeing as we’re so used to leaning into it. My grandma called it a lazy wind.’

  ‘Lazy?’

  He grinned. ‘Couldn’t be bothered to go around, so it just went straight through you.’

  Toryn laughed despite the pain. ‘What part are you from?’

  ‘Flint, by the sea.’

  ‘North of Keld, isn’t it?’

  Jedrul flinched as he slapped his thigh. ‘You’ve heard of it? And know where it is!’

  ‘The map! I’ve got Hamar’s map, oh wait.’ Toryn patted his leg. ‘Ah yes, still have it. Surprised they didn’t search me and take it.’ At least he had more than the memories of Hamar’s to keep — but for how much longer?

  Jedrul snorted. ‘I bet it only has the name of the place on your map. Nothing else is worth a mention, apart from the cliffs. The headland juts out to sea like a bony wyke’s finger.’

  Toryn welcomed the distraction to talk to someone from the other side of the mountains. He cheered. ‘You’ve been down the mines for twenty years?’

  ‘Better than spending my time in Lunn. It was the mines, or a lifetime of the wind stripping the skin from my bones. Not for me, much happier under the ground. The wind don’t blow down there, and it’s not so bad with the heat from the torches.’ Jedrul glanced around the wagon. ‘Others may moan about the harsh conditions at Drunsberg, but it was a big improvement compared to my home, and I was better fed. But I suppose I’ll be getting a change of scenery now.’

  Toryn looked at his fellow captives. ‘What do you think will happen to us?’

  Jedrul shrugged. ‘We’ll survive somehow. Whatever they have planned for us can’t be more dangerous than mining the deep seams.’

  Toryn remembered the words from the cave. ‘I heard a raider say they’re to train us for the ranks of the lady. Any idea who she is?’

  Jedrul chuckled. ‘I doubt they mean the good Lady Harlyn. I saw her once.’ He tried to whistle through his broken teeth. ‘What a beauty. She visited Drunny with the Lord a while back. A fine woman if ever I saw one.’ He sighed. ‘Hair the color of a sunset. Not that I’ve seen one for a while. Ha! Make that a sunset and a young woman.’ He nudged the leg of the guard next to him. ‘You awake, Roold?’

  The man groaned. ‘Let me sleep. Wake me when we arrive, or my breakfast is ready.’

  Jedrul chuckled. ‘Might be a while before you eat bacon again. But listen. The lad here says they’re taking us to the lady. Do you know who she might be?’

  Roold wiped his hand down his face. ‘Nope, ask Nander. He claims to know every woman from the mountains to the sea. Now let me sleep.’

  Jedrul rolled his eyes. ‘Can’t be too many in these parts.’ The wagon jolted, sending the men tumbling into each other. Jedrul pushed himself up and stuck his head through the canvas. He dropped back inside. ‘We’ve changed direction, my guess is we’re heading west, there’s little to the east, or the north for that matter. We can only be a few leagues from the trench, and then it’s all ice beyond, so they say.’

  Toryn turned away from the cold air. ‘Are we still in Dorn?’

  ‘Oh no. We’re well out of the Realms by now. Bet you never thought you’d ever see the day you’d be outside the Five.’

  Toryn slumped. ‘Can’t say I did.’

  ‘Oi!’ The rail behind Toryn shook. ‘Keep it down or we’ll make you pull it, and the one behind.’

  Another laughed. ‘You’ll be needing all the sleep you can get, so make the most of the ride, boys.’

  ‘You awake?’ Jedrul nudged Toryn’s foot. He opened his eyes and groaned to see it was still night, but at least they
had stopped moving. Outside the wagon, torches flickered as their captors sang and laughed. Jedrul sat back. ‘We stopped a while back. They’re cooking a hog on a spit, one stolen from our stores, but I don’t suppose they’ll leave any for us.’

  Toryn’s stomach rumbled as the rich smell of roasting meat wafted in. ‘I can’t remember the last time I ate a full meal.’ His breath vaporized in the bitter air.

  ‘I wouldn’t waste time looking forward to the next one.’ Jedrul nodded to the opening. ‘Be lucky to feed off the leftovers.’ More men in the wagon woke at the smell of supper.

  Roold sat. ‘Any clue where we are, Jed?’

  ‘Judging by the racket they’re making and all their blazing torches, I can safely say we’re still north of the border. They don’t seem to care who sees or hears them.’

  Roold shuffled, trying to find a better position. ‘How many escort us?’

  Again, Jedrul answered. ‘No more than thirty I’d say.’

  ‘We must number at least twenty. Charming. If they think they have enough to prevent our escape, they should think again.’

  Nander raised his hand and jangled the chain. ‘But they’re not wearing the jewelry.’ He pulled his arm back. ‘And we appear to be fastened to the floor.’

  Roold lifted the chain to the light. ‘These are ancient, must be a weak link somewhere. Come on, ladies, wakey, wakey and check your chains. I doubt those scum took much care securing these to the wagon. If we can break it up, we can throttle the swine in their sleep. That’ll teach them to fill their stomachs with our meat and ale.’

  Nander groaned. ‘Who made you captain, Roold?’

  ‘I did. I’m the senior in this wagon at least, and Porek is in no state to lead.’

  ‘Why not?’ Nander narrowed his eyes at Roold.

  ‘He’s dead. I was at his side when the green stuff took him down. Poor sod had no chance. Both him and his brother so close together.’ He rattled his chain. ‘Like it or not, I’m your new captain, so make a start on these links. The closer we get to where these buggers want to take us, the less I rate our chances.’