A Darkness Forged in Fire (31 page)

Lorian lifted his chin. "Or for the maker of this
hellish forest to come back."

It wasn't a topic Konowa wanted to discuss. Fragments of dreams kept racing through his head, none of them pleasant.
"As I said, we'll deal with the enemy before us for now. I want you focused on delaying the elfkynan on this side of the river. Throw out a skirmish line at first light and have them pick off leaders and shamans if they can see any. Draw the elfkynan straight on, but whatever you do, don't make a stand. Keep falling back to the river. We don't
want them trying to outflank you."

Lorian nodded. "With the horses we took, I could do a scout of my own and see just what we're
facing."

"You're not in a cavalry regiment now. If you get cut
off out there, we have no way to come get you. Keep it simple, no heroics. Just
make contact, get them interested in coming straight on, and fall back."

Lorian didn't look convinced, but agreed. "We'll make
it back, Major."

"See that you do, and bring the elfkynan with you. I'll
have a surprise waiting for them when they get to the river."

K
onowa watched Lorian disappear into the night, then walked back across the makeshift bridge. He let out his breath, enjoying the coolness of the air on the west side of the river. Konowa stepped off the dock and looked around, amazed at how fast things were happening.

Luuguth Jor was all but gone. Soldiers were knocking down the last of the village huts and using the mud bricks to create a series of barricades all along the riverbank. Two half walls of one hut still stood near the gap in the trees to protect the five-pounder cannon and its crew. That a family had once lived within the protection of those walls now seemed a distant and quaint idea. Everything from clay jars to wooden platters was now put to use for a far more violent purpose.

Much the same was happening at the other end of the firing line some fifty yards shy of the
sarka har
that curved all the way down to the river. A recalcitrant muraphant trumpeted its displeasure as it was used to haul the second five-pounder into place. Little of the peaceful existence that had once thrived here remained.

With each step deeper into the encampment, Konowa felt his senses clearing. The sweat on his brow cooled and dried and left him wondering where he'd left his riding cloak. He'd take the cold any day, no matter how it was created. He lengthened his stride and made the short distance up the hill to the fort without need to catch his breath. In fact, he felt amazing.

"I do hope your nap did you some good, Major," Rallie said. She was sitting on a fallen mud block at the edge of the fortress, looking down at the river below. As usual, the hood of her cloak was pulled up around her head, a cloud of blue cigar smoke hanging above it.

Part of the nightmare flashed again through Konowa's mind.
"If what I saw was real, then I don't think Wobbly made it. I'm sorry," he said, looking back at the river. Fires burned everywhere as the regiment raced the coming dawn to ready their defenses. Even the tumbled walls of the fortress were being reassembled, the power of the muraphants a significant help in that regard. He took another deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Oh, I wouldn't count the little souse out just yet, Major," she said.
"Did you actually see Wobbly killed in your dream?"

Konowa thought about it for a moment. He decided to leave the part about the trees out.
"No. The last thing I remember before I woke up was a large shadow coming
straight at me—him."

"Then have a little faith, Major," she said, tilting her head back slightly to take another puff on her cigar. When she leaned forward again, her voice had a sharper quality to it.
"Tell me, what now?"

Konowa found himself nodding. "Now we wait. The belief in the Star will bring our enemies here, all of them. A trap is a trap for everyone—it's
all in how you use it."

Rallie blew out a long stream of smoke and pointed her cigar at the trees.
"And how do you suppose the Shadow Monarch is using it?"

It was a question Konowa had deliberately chosen not to think about.
"It doesn't really matter. Maybe some rakkes attacked the fortress expecting the elfkynan to have already taken the place and installed the Star. Maybe we scared them off when they heard us approaching. I don't
know. What I do know, however, is that by this time tomorrow, the Prince will
have the Star for his museum, the rebel force will be defeated and scattered,
and the Shadow Monarch will have lost Her chance for increasing Her power."

Rallie's cackle signaled her disagreement. "My goodness, it all sounds so neat and tidy, I could write my story up now and save the bother of waiting to see what actually happens," she replied.
"Oh, just a minor detail, Major, but where are these rakkes of Hers that did all
this? If She is as eager as everyone else to own this Star, one would think Her
forces would be close at hand, perhaps waiting and watching the outcome of the
coming battle."

"Let them watch," Konowa said, his hand coming to rest against his chest.
"If they try to attack, they will pay."

Rallie suddenly stood up, grinding her cigar out on the stone as she did so.
"It seems, Major, that your nap restored a bit more stiffness to your spine than I had hoped. Next time, I'll suggest a warm bath, maybe then you'll have time to consider a little more the consequences of your actions. Good evening, Major." She turned to leave, then paused, looking back over her shoulder.
"Should you see His Royal Highness, please inform him I'd like a word. I hope
there is one officer here who will listen."

Konowa started to protest, then cursed under his breath and kicked at a weed growing by his feet. She didn't understand.

He moved off aimlessly to explore the crumbled remains of the fortress in more detail, frustrated after his talk with Rallie. It was the same feeling he often had after talking with his father. They always ended up asking questions that pushed him to think about things he would just as soon not. He couldn't explain the forest, or its purpose, or where its creators had gone. He wasn't even sure what his father had wrought by giving him the piece of Her Wolf Oak, or what it meant for the men who made up the Iron Elves—living and dead. All he knew for certain was that he would not lose his regiment again, and if that damned him in the eyes of those around him, it was a price he was willing to pay.

Konowa walked through the fortress, silently assessing it and noting with satisfaction the positioning of the howitzer to cover the far bank of the river. Although it looked much like a cannon, the howitzer didn't shoot on a flat plane, but operated by lobbing a hollow shell filled with black powder high into the sky to then fall straight down among enemy soldiers and horses. The sudden explosion of the shell, even if it fell too far away to cause injury, was often enough to unnerve the approaching force, as no soldier could tell where the next shell would land. Set with a burning fuse, the shell could even be timed to explode while still in the air, but Konowa would be happy if the soldiers-turned-artillerists could fire the gun without blowing themselves up in the process.

Soldiers had piled several chests of ammunition beside the cannon and were building a small wall around it. He made a mental note to talk with the crews before it got light—their shells could become critical.

The remains of the Prince's marquee were set up against the southern wall, so Konowa chose to explore the center of the fortress next. His walk took him to a small inner keep. It was square, no more than ten feet by ten feet, with a flat roof of overhanging timbers. He paused at the wooden door half torn from its hinges, aware of voices coming from inside.

"…right to be wary…suitably impressed with your
skills…"

"…be stopped before it's too late—"

"What, or who, must be stopped?" Konowa asked, stepping into the small room.

The Prince and Visyna stood up from the table they had been seated at, the surprise on their faces evidence enough that they had been talking about him. The Prince recovered first.

"You forget yourself, Major."

Konowa threw a quick salute, unable to hide his own surprise.
"I'm sorry, sir, I didn't expect you here." His sense of the surreal continued to expand. Visyna and the Prince were the two people least likely to be having a close conversation, of any kind.

"Where else would I be, but where I am? In any event," the Prince said, growing more authoritative as he spoke.
"I have been having a most interesting chat with Miss Tekoy. We share a love of
nature, did you know? The birds, the bees, even the forest at large."

"Is that so?" Konowa said, finding the notion implausible at best.
"Have you ever tried living in one, sir? Not quite as posh as a palace."

"It's all in one's attitude, Major. I think I would
get along splendidly if put to it."

"Perhaps you'll find out—the elfkynan are here."

The Prince clapped his hands. "Excellent news, Major,
excellent news. We should have them on the run in no time, and then be able to
devote our attention to finding the Star and be on our way."

"Your Highness!" Visyna said, her eyes blazing as she looked at him.
"We were talking about the importance of the Star to
my
people."

"The Star is important to many people, my dear Miss Tekoy. In fact, I grow more convinced that it is imperative all such power be placed somewhere it can be studied, learned from, and most important, protected, especially from misuse. I do, after all," he said condescendingly,
"share your concern that such power not fall into less civilized, cultured hands," he said, looking directly at Konowa.
"Now, Major, was there something that you wanted?"

Konowa nodded. "Rallie has asked if you might see her
sometime in the next while. I believe she wanted some more detail on your
theories of warfare."

The Prince adjusted his shako and rolled his neck inside the loose-fitting collar of his jacket.
"Then she shall have them. I am done here. Miss Tekoy, Major."

Konowa saluted as the Prince left, staring at Visyna the whole time. When the sound of the Prince's boots faded he tipped his shako to her.
"Slumming it, are you?"

Visyna huffed, then sighed and sat back down on an overturned crate.
"Events move with increasing speed, and I feel I have less and less control over
anything."

Konowa walked over and sat down on the other crate, angling his scabbard to the side as he did so. He placed his hands on the small table, crossing one over the other.
"For once, we are in complete agreement."

She brushed a hair from her face and her expression softened. He was treated to the smile that had dazzled him back in the forest.

"We always have been, I think. We both want what's right, I know that," she said, looking the way the Prince had gone.

"Did you think you could sweet-talk him into letting
the Star stay in Elfkyna?"

Visyna shrugged. "I don't know. But I thought if I
could reason with him, he would understand. He understands all right—he
understands power, but not the terrible price that goes with it."

Konowa thought he detected a subtle jab in her words.
"I'm not like him."

Visyna smiled at him. "No, you're not. In some ways you're worse. He wants the Star the way a child wants a sweet from the market. You, on the other hand, don't
seem to want it at all, and that worries me."

"Worries you? I thought you would be pleased," he said.
"I have nothing against your people. In fact, I've come to care a lot about one of them in particular." Saying it out loud felt good. He did care about her, and if it wasn't for their current situation, he'd be showing her right now…if she let him, that is.

"And I care about more than just my people, too," she said, dipping her head as if suddenly shy. Konowa found himself even more attracted to her.
"But look where we are. Her foul trees ring this place in a noose, defiling the
land as they dig their roots deep in search of the Star. Yet you still call on
that same power with utter disregard for what you will bring down on us all. The
earth is changing and the air grows cold with malice. You must—" She caught herself.
"Konowa, please, give up Her power and break the oath while there is still
time."

He shook his head. "Someone has to look after this regiment. Should I leave that to His Highness? You see what he's like. That is our future King." Even saying the words gave him a chill.

Visyna reached across the table, then seemed to think better of it, pulling her hands back.
"But he is not King yet. It's a dangerous world out here in the wilds; much
could happen."

Konowa waited for her to smile. She didn't.

"Why, Miss Tekoy, the bengar shows its teeth," he said, only partially surprised.

Visyna looked embarrassed. "I'm not saying you should
actually…I, just…things are not going as they should."

Konowa knew the feeling all too well. "They never do."

A musket fired in the distance. He stood up—it was time.

She stood as well, moving closer to him until her face was only inches away from his.
"Give up this power and embrace the natural order. Help me, and your reward will be greater than you can imagine. You won't just be saving my people, you'll be saving your men, and I can save you, if you'll
let me."

Her hand came up to gently brush back his hair at the side of his head, revealing the ruined ear. She gasped and drew back her fingers. Frost sparkled at the tips.

"It's too late," he said, turning and walking out of the room.