Emergence (Book 2) (7 page)

"To be expected," Nialyne said. "What else?"

Bolin chewed the words before spitting them
out. "The Emperor demands I bring Ciara."

"Ciara? Why?"

He handed Nialyne the crumpled note, and this time she took it. Bolin watched her eyes as they traveled over the writing. He knew the moment she reached the part that answered her question.

"This is absurd," Nialyne said. "Are you suggesting Ciara is this 'dangerous entity' that requires 'further dispensation'?"

"Aye."

"And you believe she is a threat to the empire?"

"There is that potential."

Nialyne stiffened. "There is the potential for you to agree? Or for Ciara to be a threat?"

The hair on his arms stood at attention.

"Alyne." Bolin softened his voice in hopes of diffusing her growing anger. "Ciara's power is unlike anyone else's. You've gotten a glimpse of it first hand now. We can only guess at what she is capable of."

Nialyne stood and handed the note back to him. She walked to the veranda doors and stood for a moment, looking into the gardens. "Her power is very ancient. Very dark. I was hard pressed to settle it when she could not."

She turned back to him, and her eyes shaded to a deeper green than Bolin would have thought possible. He went to the sideboard and poured himself a glass of heather wine, downed it in one long swallow, and refilled it. He poured a second and took it to Nialyne.

"I know this power, Bolin. I know its name and where it came from, and if I was certain I could contain it within the Greensward I would keep Ciara here, regardless of what the Emperor wishes." She shook her head. "I have no such certainty. But to hand this over to the Imperial Mages--" She shook her head. "I'm not sure that's the wisest course of action either. They have no experience with such power. The Elder Priests may have, but they are long dead and gone."

"I haven't been given much choice, have I? His guard is meant less to insure safety, as it is to guarantee I acquiesce to his demand."

"She needs to be trained, Bolin. Guided in the use of this power."

"You think I don't know that?" he said. "Perhaps, if we make it to Nisair alive, I'll get the opportunity to explain that to his serene highness before he does something stupid."

"Then you will take her?"

He spread his hands. "I can do nothing else. It
is not in my power to oppose the Emperor."

"No? It seems you have a habit of doing just that." She took a drink, a thoughtful expression on her face. "But, if that is the case, then I shall accompany you."

Bolin's mouth opened on a response that he thought better of. He settled for a simple, "No."

He should have phrased it differently. Nialyne stepped toward him, and he instinctively rocked backed. "No?"

Bolin wet his lips. "Alyne--"

"No?" she repeated. She placed the fingers of one hand against his chest.

He cleared his throat. "For what purpose?"

"Because I am so inclined."

He shook his head--and sucked in a startled breath at the sharp, needle-like pulse from Nialyne's fingertips. He wrapped both his hands around hers and held it away from his chest. "It's a long journey to Nisair."

"I have been there before."

"We'll be lucky to make it alive. To think Donovan will not be lying in wait for us is folly. And now he has that." He pointed toward the crystal, still sitting in the center of the table.

"We don't know that for sure, but that's all the more reason for me to go along," she said. "How long until the guard arrives, do you think?"

Bolin heaved a sigh. "A day or two if they were sent out on the messenger's heels. But, Alyne, I beg you to reconsider."

"No." She walked away, stopping with her hand on the latch of a side door. "I need to meditate before I meet with the elders. You will let me know when the guard arrives so that I may welcome them myself?"

End of discussion.

Bolin tipped his head in a courteous bow. "As you will, Danya Nialyne."

She smiled. "Excellent. Oh, and I imagine it will go easier if I am present when you tell Ciara?"

Goddess above, he hadn't even thought that far. He couldn't imagine she would take the news well. Given her history of bolting when confronted with decisions not her own, he suspected it would be best to wait until they were heading
across the border. Even then, tying and gagging her, and slinging her over a horse's back might be an even better idea.

"After the guard arrives," he said.

Nialyne nodded. Bolin stared at the door as it closed behind her. He should have gone to Nisair instead of coming back to Galys Auld. He could have explained the situation and the threat Donovan posed, without putting Ciara anywhere near the Imperial Mages. He could have at least stayed and talked to the Emperor in Ranstone. Dain must have literally been entering through the front gate as Bolin rode out the back after leaving a message with the Captain of the Guard.

But it didn't take much for Bolin to convince himself he needed to track down Donovan and the crone, and not w
aste time socializing with the Emperor.

His fingers traced the sigils of the pendant through his shirt. Leaving Ciara when she lay hurt and confused had been one of the hardest things he had ever done. But he had known she would be safe in Nialyne's care, and well protected within the borders of the Greensward. He, personally, had failed her miserably in both those regards. If she had sense she would hate him for it.

And now how could he insure her safety on the road to Nisair knowing Donovan would hound their every step? It was madness.

His gaze drift
ed to the crystal on the table.

The only true test of whether a plan lies in madness or brilliance,
one of his old instructors had once told him,
is in the outcome
.

CHAPTER SIX

The moon danced behind a veil of clouds, its wan light dappling the countryside like Sandeen's speckled hide. The cool breeze stirring the trees held the early whispers of fall, and Bolin twitched his cloak tighter around his neck. His decision to intercept the Emperor's guard and guide them the rest of the way to Galys Auld had been a spur of the moment thing, made when sleep did its best to elude him. He needed something to keep him occupied, and his mind off Ciara. As if that were ever really possible.

He'd hoped for a different reunion with her. One in which he could have tried to explain the tangled web of his emotions--territory he had never been comfortable venturing into. He had spent a lot of time thinking over the past fortnight. Too much time. Ciara seemed to never leave him, always there in some form or another. At times, her stubbornness and irresponsible behavior only served to infuriate him. More often, the image of her invaded his thoughts and brought a far different reaction, one he found hard to justify. To deny he wanted her would be like denying he needed to draw breath. Yet he could come up with a multitude of excuses for keeping his distance. All of which sounded sensible until he voiced them.

Sandeen flicked an ear as a thin wail crept up from nothing and trailed fingers across the night. Bolin reined in, and both of them tensed. They had far too much experience of late with the kind of hounds that ran in the dark. The wail strengthened before fading to leave only echoes in its aftermath.

Bolin waited until
the last discordant note drifted into nothingness and he could be certain there were no others to answer the plaintive call, then pushed Sandeen into an easy canter. Bolin hoped to intercept the escort by mid-day, if not before, guessing they would take the shortest route from Trombachue to Galys Auld.

Sandeen splashed through a shallow creek, uncannily sure of his footing even in the dark. They were part way up the opposite bank when another howl sli
ced through the air, closer than the first, and ahead of them toward the northeast.

A shiver worked down Bolin's spine as an answering wail rose in reply, signaling a pack on the hunt. Bolin touched his heel to Sandeen's side, and gave the stallion his head, letting him pick his own trail in the pre-dawn gloom. He prayed to the Goddess they wouldn't be too late, and that the Emperor's guard had the brains to set a night watch. Fools if they didn't
. Likely dead fools at that.

He followed the calls until they
dissipated, drawing Sandeen to a halt atop a small rise. The jingle of harness and puffing of the horse's breath had suddenly become the only sounds disturbing the stillness. Bolin stood in the stirrups, peering through the murk as he cocked his head to listen. A hunting pack of swamp hounds made noise the entire time they pursued their quarry. Neerwolves, on the other hand, hunted silently, except for the occasional call to locate their pack mates. Similar to the calls he had heard. Neerwolves normally didn't hunt men, except possibly in the dead of winter when food proved scarce. He may have been over-reacting, but his gut told him neerwolves or not, whatever hunted this night had been sent with purpose.

Sandeen's ear twitched. A moment later Bolin caught a short bark, followed by the unmistakable, faint shout of a man. The stallion skidded down the embankment, gathered his feet under him at the bottom and sprinted across an open field. Increasing trees forced them to slow, but not by much, as muffled yells and the snarling of beasts reached the
ir ears. The orange glow of a fire drew them to the right, and they burst into the small camp without breaking stride.

"Duck!" Bolin yelled, and the soldier in front of him dropped without a glance at who gave the
order.

Bolin's sword glittered in the firelight as Sandeen launched over the man and into the middle of the melee. The stallion landed on top of a rangy, grey beast, reared and finished it off with a thud of deadly hooves. Another of the creatures leapt at Bolin, and landed next to its companion minus its head. Bolin took a quick count as Sandeen spun: four men and six neerwolves standing. One of the men cut the beasts' numbers down to five and the
others re-assessed the situation, then took off into the woods. Another one dropped before they were safely away, courtesy of a crossbow bolt through the heart. Two soldiers started after the pack and Bolin called them back.

"You'll not find them," he said. "But likely they'll find you. Let them run, they won't be back this night."

The men looked askance past him, and Bolin turned Sandeen to find their commander.

A huge, brute of a man with a shock of red hair streaked with grey, and an equally wild beard that looked as though it hadn't ever been trimmed, grinned when he saw Bolin. "Do as he says, lads, the man outranks me."

"Garek!" A smile split Bolin's face. He dismounted to greet his old friend, grasping him by a forearm that bore a remarkable resemblance to a large ham. "Never would I have thought to find you here."

"As soon as the E
mperor mentioned you were at Galys Auld, I told him I'd make the trip myself." He patted his substantial waist line. "Pacing the Imperial halls hasn't done me any bit of good. I was itchin' to be back on the road again." His grin faded as he looked past Bolin. "Wasn't itchin' for this, though."

Bolin turned to survey the camp. Dawn's first light crept through the trees, and showed far more wolves on the ground than men, thank the Goddess. Still, one soldier would never rise again, another rested with his back to a tree, being tended by one of his comrades. The other three were collecting horses and scattered gear.

Bolin squatted beside the nearest carcass. He cleaned his blade on the rough fur as he inspected the creature. Its finely tapered muzzle had frozen in a snarl as it died, lips pulled back over yellowed fangs. Bolin flicked an ear with his finger and it flopped over, bent like a hound's. Not like any neerwolf he'd ever seen.

He glanced up at Garek. "You've not run into these before tonight?"

Garek shook his head, his red hair framing his face like a mane. "Not a lick of trouble till now. Could feel it edgin' up on us though. Seemed closer we drew to Galys Auld, the stronger the itch on the back of my neck."

"So you had a night watch?"

"Oh, aye." He bobbed his head toward the dead man. "That'd be him. He gave the warning right b'fore he lost his throat."

Bolin stood and sheathed his sword. "Leave the carcasses."

He didn't miss the quick flick of the soldiers' eyes to Garek before they complied. In their defense, Bolin didn't wear anything that suggested rank or even allegiance. He could have been a mercenary for all they knew.

"Galys Auld's a full day's ride
, and I'd just as soon be there before dark."

"Berk." Bolin winced at Garek's bellow. Pity the recruits who had to bear the brunt of that voice. "Do we have all the horses?"

"Aye, sir."

Garek looked toward the wounded soldier, being helped to his feet. "Dafyd, can you ride?"

The man looked pale, but lucid. "Aye, sir. And use my sword if need be."

"Good man. Then mount up, gentlemen, we've got ground to cover."

"What of Kort?"

"Put him on a horse. We'll not leave him here for the scavengers."

Two of the soldiers wrapped their fallen comrade in a cloak and tied his body over one of the horses. Bolin whistled and Sandeen trotted over, not taking any care to avoid stepping on wolf carcasses. Garek chuckled as Bolin swung into the saddle.

"I'd not want to be on the bad side of that beast," Garek said. "Never seen a horse so keen for a fight in all my days."

He heaved his bulk onto the poor mount fated to carry him and they headed out, Bolin and Garek in the lead, the rest of the guard riding two abreast behind them. Bolin recognized only two of the soldiers in the escort. Sully had been under Garek's command for over a decade. From the insignia on his uniform, he'd worked his way up to lieutenant. Deservingly so, no doubt. Garek wouldn't have him otherwise.

He knew Berk as well. His father had served with Bolin for too many years to track. A man of honor and courage whose charm and even temperament had made him th
e perfect choice to act as Imperial Ambassador to Lord Verrun of the Reaches. Bolin could only hope Berk took after his sire in more than just looks because the rest of the group looked to be fresh in the ranks.

By the time the sun cleared the horizon, they were several leagues closer to Galys Auld. They had kept a steady pace as Bolin led them by trails few knew. At times the track narrowed, forcing them to ride single file. At a point where it widened into a broad expanse of grass Sully pushed his horse up next to Bolin
.

"Your pardon, General," he said, with a dip of his head. "I'm wondering if we could call a short halt. We've been pressing the pace and Dafyd's looking a bit pale."

Bolin glanced over his shoulder, then nodded. "We'll stop just up the way."

He called a halt once they were back under cover of the trees, and rode down the line to where Berk and another soldier were helping Dafyd off his horse. The man protested weakly as they lowered him to the ground. He looked pale as a summer cloud and nearly as transparent, his face covered with a fine sheen of perspiration
, and his dark eyes burning bright with fever. The bandages that crossed his ribs were bled through. If his wound proved to be anything like the messenger's, the Galysian elders would have his head when he brought the escort across the border.

Garek rode up beside him. "Do those wolves hunt during the day?"

"I'd say no if I thought they were neerwolves," Bolin said. He sniffed, shifting in the saddle to look around. The hairs on his arm prickled, and he had the distinct, unpleasant feeling they were being watched. He lowered his voice for Garek's ears alone. "We're not safe here."

"How far yet to Galys Auld?"

"With luck we'll see the Greensward's borders by dusk, but we'll need to set a better pace than we have been."

"Do you know what hunts us?"

Bolin shook his head. "Not exactly."

Garek kept his attention in the direction Bolin didn't. "Duff," he said, without looking at the men, "You're lightest, take Dafyd on my horse. If the beast can carry me all this way he's big enough to take the two of you without issue. We need to move, and move quick, lads. Keep your eyes and ears open, and your swords ready. Berk, that crossbow of yours loaded?"

"It will be, Commander."

"Keep it that way. Just don't shoot yourself in the foot."

"Aye."

"Don't shoot anyone else in the foot either."

Garek swung off his horse and held it while Duff mounted and they passed Dafyd up to him. When the Commander got on Dafyd's horse, Bolin swore the creature groaned.

"Stay sharp, lads." Garek gave Bolin a look and a quick hand signal that meant he'd take up the rear guard. "You
even think you see anything, sound off."

Bolin turned Sandeen and pushed him immediately into a steady canter. He silently promised the stallion a few days rest and an extra serving of grain for pushing him so hard. It wouldn't be an easy pace for the injur
ed man either, but they were Imperial soldiers and not a one of them would complain.

When the sun reached its zenith, Bolin raised his hand to signal a halt alon
g the banks of a shallow river.

"We'll give the horses time to drink and graze a bit before we move on," Bolin said, wagering the poor beast suffering with Garek's bulk like
ly needed more than the others.

Bolin's sense of unease hadn't diminished. If he had thought he could get Ciara out of Galys Auld without notice, he'd been a fool. It could cos
t his head to say it, but the Emperor proved a bigger fool for not listening to him. Nearly two hundred leagues lay between Galys Auld and Nisair. Not a one of them would be any safer than the next.

"You stew like a building storm," Garek said, stepping up next to him
, and letting the chestnut horse lower its head to drink. "It's a fine day, enjoy the ride."