Reign of Ash (54 page)

“I’m sorry,” Carensa said. She paused. “The woman in your group —”

“Kestel.”

“Is she yours?”

Blaine chuckled. “I’m not sure Kestel belongs to anyone but Kestel. But yes, we’re more than just friends – much more, I hope.”

Carensa smiled. “You always had a thing for redheads.”

Blaine returned the smile. “Maybe so.” Though they stood only a few feet apart, the gulf that separated them was as wide as years and as far as the cold shores of Edgeland. “What will you do after the solstice?”

“Vigus hoped that no matter how great the damage, at least one of the Lords of the Blood would survive,” she said. “If he suspected that you were the likely survivor because you were in Edgeland, he didn’t tell me.” She sighed. “If you’re able to bring back the magic, Vigus and the others will have quite a task ahead, restoring what’s been lost. They’ll need helpers.” Carensa paused for a moment. “Regardless of what happens to the magic, this is my home.”

“So you’re staying here?”

Carensa nodded. “There’s nothing for me back there,” she said. “What about you? Are you staying in Donderath – or going back to Edgeland?”

“I gave Aunt Judith my word that I would go back to Glenreith,” Blaine said. “There’s a lot of work to be done. And there are some powerful people who have tried very hard to keep the magic from coming back. They won’t be happy – and I have the feeling they won’t give up.”

He paused. “Will Quintrel and the Knights let us leave?”

Carensa met his gaze. “I don’t know. I wanted to warn you. I owe Vigus a great deal, but he uses people to get what he wants. Like he used your friend.”

“Connor,” Blaine supplied. “He’s had rather a bad go of it.”

Carensa nodded. “Vigus likes that the valley is so hard to reach. And the Knights have kept their hiding place here a secret for a long time. You and your friends know how to best the Guardians. That’s dangerous knowledge.”

“But with the kings dead, the Knights have nothing to fear,” Blaine pointed out. “And if magic can be restored – even if it’s not quite the same as before – surely Quintrel and the mages can use it to set a new group of traps for unwanted visitors if they want to remain in seclusion.” He spread his hands, palms up. “None of us are mages of any power. Lowrey’s the only scholar, and he intends to stay. We’d be a drain on your scarce resources, with nothing to show for it.”

Carensa’s gaze was sorrowful. “I don’t think Vigus is worried about it,” she said quietly. “The only value you and your friends have is working the ritual. I’m afraid he’s expecting it to kill you.”

“F
all back!” Niklas Theilsson shouted above the din of battle. The foothills at the base of the Riven Mountains were thick with torch smoke. The cries of men and the clang of swords reverberated from the high rock mountain walls. “Fall back!” he shouted again, eyeing the onslaught of Pollard’s troops.

Across the way, he could hear Ayers giving a similar command, allowing the line to break that they had fought so hard to hold across the mountain pass. Niklas grimaced. The ground was littered with bodies, many of them his soldiers. It was bitter to watch as Pollard’s troops whooped in victory while thirty men poured into the cleft in the mountains. The others took up the position that Niklas’s army had just vacated.

Bitter, but not unexpected. He and Penhallow had been of one accord on strategy. They would hold Pollard back to give Blaine the longest possible lead. And if necessary, to reduce casualties, they would fall back. Pollard, as Penhallow predicted, sent his men to seize the victory.

But Niklas knew it wasn’t quite over yet.

“Rally here!” Niklas shouted, hearing his call repeated down the line. He gave a silent prayer for the souls of the dead and an apology to their spirits for the cost of the ruse he was now about to reveal.

“They’re getting through, Captain!” one of his men complained, and it was obvious he felt the defeat keenly.

Niklas nodded. “For now, soldier. For now.”

When they had withdrawn far enough to give Pollard’s troops full access to the pass and remove his men from danger, Niklas scanned the horizon. He could see Nidhud’s Knights and Penhallow’s
talishte
maneuvering into position as Ayers got his own men situated.

“Formation!” Niklas shouted. “There’s the line!” He indicated with his head where the other troops had gathered. “Find your place.”

“You
want
the blighters to go into the pass?” one of the soldiers replied. “I thought we were trying to keep them out of the pass!”

Niklas chuckled. “Yep. Line up. You’ll see.”

He heard the muttering and saw the questioning glances as his men followed orders, and he sympathized. They had lost friends in the battle to hold the pass, and they had fought with all their might to keep Pollard away from the mountain.

And if that would have done the trick, we could all go home now
, Niklas thought with a sigh.
But Penhallow and Nidhud and I knew it wouldn’t be. So I hope Nidhud’s fall-back plan is as good as it sounds.

“Sir!” A
talishte
scout seemed to appear out of nowhere in front of Niklas, making Niklas’s horse step back a pace and rear.

“Report.”

“A large contingent is heading our way.” He grinned, showing his fangs. “Voss’s men.”

Niklas sighed. “I wouldn’t have minded having them arrive sooner, but better now than never.”

“Aye,” the
talishte
replied. “Best he hurry. It’s only a few candlemarks until dawn.”

Niklas could already hear the sound of hoofbeats pounding, testimony that a sizable force was heading their way.
I’m glad they’re on our side
, he thought.
Or as much as Voss ever is.

A cheer went up from Niklas’s men when they spotted the flag of Voss’s mercenary company and realized that reinforcements had arrived. Niklas rode to where Penhallow, Ayers, and Nidhud had gathered. Voss shouted orders to his men to position them, then rode to meet the commanders.

“You took your time,” Penhallow said, raising an eyebrow.

Unlike most of the other soldiers, Voss was astride a true warhorse. His armor – and the armor on his horse – was expensive and richly detailed. Voss grinned. “Just making certain none of Pollard’s reinforcements showed up,” he said. “Left nothing to chance. Just a wake of dead men.”

“I see you found a way to end the siege, Traher,” Penhallow said.

Voss chuckled. “You know me, Lanyon. I don’t stay penned up long. Gave Pollard a surprise, we did. That whole plain in front of the fortress was honeycombed with caves. My engineers diverted that underground river to flood the caves, then drained them. Made the ground drop out from under his feet,” he said, chuckling harder.

“We put on a show for them,” Voss said, grinning broadly. “The rooftops of my fortress are stone, so I put a thin coat of oil on them and set them afire, just for effect. Then I rigged up a hinged metal puppet and made it look as if I were dancing in the flames.” He guffawed. “The best touch was the kite we made with an effigy of Vessa, designed to burn slowly as it flew in the air.” He slapped his thigh and tears glistened in the corners of his eyes. “Pollard’s men not only ran away, but I’m betting they soiled themselves!”

“Time later to celebrate your cleverness,” Nidhud said dryly. “We’re not done here.”

Voss looked at Penhallow skeptically. “Now what?”

“Connor and the others made it through,” Penhallow said. “I sense it in the bond.” He paused. “From the images I can make out from Connor, the pass has four traps set by the Knights.” Nidhud and the others listened as Penhallow recounted what he learned from the bond.

Nidhud nodded. “What you’ve seen matches the fragments the legends tell about the Guardians.” He gave a predatory smile. “Our plan should work. We’ll drive Pollard’s men right into the traps and let them take care of his forces for us.”

Niklas looked at him askance. “Isn’t that risky? What if some make it through?”

Nidhud’s gaze was hard. “If any survive the traps, my fellow Knights await them. And if the magic is restored, Quintrel’s mages – and the Knights – will be quite able to defend themselves.”

Niklas and the other commanders dispersed down the line and were soon assembled in front of the army. “They wanted to get into the pass!” Niklas shouted to his men. “So we gave them what they wanted. But we’re not going to let them out. They will not leave the mountains alive!”

Nidhud, positioned in the center of the forces, raised his sword, the signal to charge. With a roar, the soldiers ran forward, swords at the ready. Pollard’s soldiers braced for the attack. Niklas’s men, heartened by reinforcements, plunged toward the enemy line. Pollard’s troops had their backs against the mountain, unable to retreat in large numbers into the narrow entrance to the pass.

Voss’s soldiers killed with precision, and Niklas’s men took out their frustration over their forced retreat. Thanks to Voss, the numbers now favored Niklas’s side, and before long, those troops of Pollard’s that had not reached the pass either lay dead or knelt in surrender.

Niklas turned to Nidhud when they had secured the mouth of the pass. “Now what?”

“I need a mortal volunteer, someone who isn’t afraid of fire,” Nidhud replied.

“I’ll go, Captain,” Ayers responded. “I’d let Torven take my soul if we could send Pollard’s men straight to Raka.”

Niklas met Nidhud’s gaze. “Is this a suicide mission?”

Nidhud shook his head. “That’s not my intent. I can’t guarantee safety. This is war, after all. But I have every intention of coming back intact.”

Niklas nodded to Ayers. “Go. But plan on coming back.”

“Yes, sir.”

Nidhud gestured to his Knights, and a group of seven broke away from their fellow soldiers to follow him, folding Ayer into their company. Niklas watched them go and turned to Penhallow. “What now?” he asked.

“We wait,” Penhallow replied. “My men destroyed Pollard’s
talishte
fighters. Nidhud won’t need to worry about them.”

Niklas peered into the darkness of the canyon, but he saw nothing but shadows. Time passed, and he felt the tension, wary of attack.

A sudden explosion roared through the canyon, and flames flashed high into the night sky. Niklas’s men fell back several paces, ready for treachery.

“I’d say Nidhud achieved his objectives,” Penhallow said with a cold smile.

Not long after the explosion, Nidhud and the Knights came walking out of the canyon, along with Ayers.

“You made better time coming out than going in,” Penhallow observed as Nidhud joined them and Niklas’s troops cheered.

Nidhud shrugged. “We were wary of overtaking the enemy on the way in, as they were mortal, and slow,” he said.

“What happened?” Niklas asked, eyeing the plume of smoke that rose from deep inside the canyon.

Nidhud chuckled. “One of the Guardians is a cave that is treacherous to navigate. The real danger is the bad air inside the cave. We concealed our presence until they were just about to enter, and then pushed them so that they hurried. When most had entered, Ayers was kind enough to lob a few lit torches inside to light their way.”

“And blew them all sky-high,” Ayers finished with a satisfied grin.

Nidhud shrugged. “Perhaps not all of them,” he conceded. “But they have no way to return the way they came, and between the remaining Guardians and the Knights that await them in Valshoa, I believe we have a rout.”

Niklas watched the smoke ascend. “Now it’s up to Blaine.”

T
he day dawned with an overcast sky that threatened snow. Blaine’s sleep had been fitful, and because of the heavy burden of the task that lay ahead of him, he could not rest.

He walked to the window and looked out over the valley that sprawled from the city to the horizon. He tried not to think about the ritual that evening, tried not to dwell on the idea that this might be the last dawn he would see.

Blaine was so deep in thought that he did not hear Kestel approach. “I’m happy for you that Carensa is alive,” Kestel said quietly.

Blaine turned. Kestel was far too adept at politics to let her feelings show in her face, but Blaine could read the expression in her eyes. “I’m glad she survived,” he replied. “When she lost everything else, Quintrel gave her a place to go and a reason to go on.” He paused, knowing what Kestel was waiting to hear.

“I told her that you and I were together,” Blaine said. “What was between Carensa and me happened a long time ago, when we were different people. She plans to stay here with the scholars permanently. I have other plans.”

Blaine moved a step toward Kestel and took her in his arms. She leaned her head against his chest and sighed. “I hope we have a chance to make plans.”

Blaine looked down to meet her gaze. “I have every intention of living through this,” he said. “I’m not a martyr. We’ll go back to Glenreith, get down to the business of making the homestead – manor – self-sustaining again. With Niklas’s help, maybe we can restore the rule of law, at least in the area we can protect.”

He smoothed a hand back through her hair. “There’s one more thing I want to do when we go home. I want to marry you.”

Kestel looked at him skeptically. “Are you sure?”

“I know what I want, Kestel. And I want you. What do you say?”

“Yes,” she murmured. “Now we just have to live long enough to make it happen.”

Blaine bent to kiss her and drew her closer. She returned the kiss with passion. The kiss lingered until they heard the sound of applause.

“It took you two long enough,” Dawe said with a grin.

Kestel laughed. “Maybe you haven’t noticed, but we’ve been busy.”

Reluctantly Blaine let her go, and Kestel stepped away. The others were waking, and a knock at the door signaled the arrival of several scholars laden with trays of food and pitchers of
fet
. Blaine and the others waited to talk until their hosts had left the room.

“What’s the plan?” Piran demanded as he reached for two of the warm rolls and a handful of dried fruit.

“Not sure,” Blaine said, taking a piece of sausage and some bread, as well as a tin cup to hold the hot
fet
. “I get the distinct feeling the scholars – or the Knights – don’t want us wandering around.” Briefly he recounted his conversation with Lowrey and the scholars, and his concerns about their ability to leave the valley once the ritual was complete. “We need an alternate plan.”

Blaine swung a leg over the bench and sat down facing them. He swallowed a mouthful of
fet
, made a face at the bitter taste, and set his cup aside. “All right. Everyone at this table, except Piran, has some kind of magic, right?” They nodded. “If the ritual works, and the magic can be controlled, we may need to be ready to defend ourselves the moment the magic rises.”

“We’ll be ready,” Kestel promised. “You raise the magic, and we’ll take care of the rest.”

As the day wore on, Blaine could feel the group’s tension rising. Thanks to the healer, Desya was awake and able to stand, although he would not be able to hold his own in a fight. Zaryae, Borya, and Desya spent much of the morning huddled together, and Blaine guessed that they were taking what comfort they could mourning Illarion.

Kestel asked the scholars for candles and made a small shrine to the gods. Zaryae joined her, and as the hours passed, everyone except Piran made a stop at the shrine to ask for protection or make their peace with the gods.

I’m not sure whether you’re real
, Blaine thought as he addressed the gods,
and if you’re there, I’m not sure you’re listening, but in case you are
…
Please get my friends home safely, and if possible, I’d like to live through this.

Blaine sighed and figured that if style and wording made the gods heed prayers, he was doomed.
Kestel would say that it’s the thought that counts. I guess at this point, I’ll take all the help I can get.

Dinner came early so that they could be ready for the ritual at sundown. Blaine forced himself to eat, remembering how badly the botched working at Mirdalur had drained him, but he tasted nothing. By the look of it, the others had little appetite either.

A knock at the door startled them. Blaine opened it and found Carensa and another woman standing in the hallway, each carrying a large basket of what appeared to be dirty clothing. “Let us in – quickly!” Carensa said.

Blaine stepped aside and frowned as he heard the clink of metal against metal as the two women moved. When the door was shut, Carensa and her friend lowered their baskets and skimmed the clothing off the top. Inside the baskets were their weapons.

“Be quick! We managed to get into the storeroom, but Vigus doesn’t know we took your weapons,” Carensa said. “You were right, Blaine. Vigus and the Knights don’t want you to leave. Take your weapons with you to the working. Tomorrow, be ready. Once you’ve had a chance to recover from the ritual, I can get you out.”

“How?”

“The valley path with the Guardians isn’t the only way,” Carensa said, glancing nervously behind her as if the door might open at any second. “The Knights had another route, but it’s well hidden and dangerous. I’ll show you where to go if they won’t.”

“Thank you,” Blaine said, laying a hand on Carensa’s shoulder.

She gave a wan smile. “You’ve spent enough time as a prisoner.” She paused. “There’s another piece of news – and it’s not good. Our watchers say there’s a large force moving toward the Guardians. For the first time in a thousand years, Valshoa is under attack.”

Blaine and Piran exchanged glances. “That means Pollard’s men got past Penhallow and Niklas,” Blaine said. “It doesn’t bode well.”

“I don’t like it, not one little bit,” Piran replied. “Fix the magic, and we might have a chance.”

“I’ve got to go,” Carensa said. “Despite his faults, I owe Vigus a lot, and I still intend to stay here,” she said, stretching up to kiss Blaine on the cheek. “Now go – and be careful.”

A few minutes after Carensa left, the door opened once more and Quintrel himself entered the room, followed by a handful of mages. He eyed their weapons immediately. “Where did you get those?”

“I was out for a walk this morning to stretch my legs, and I saw an open door,” Piran lied. “Found these in a heap and figured, with all that’s going on, you forgot to get them back to us. So I spared you the bother.”

“I see,” Quintrel said, unconvinced. “Where you’re going tonight, swords will do you no good.”

“We’ll need them on the journey home,” Blaine said pointedly, meeting Quintrel’s gaze. “We mean to leave as soon as possible.”

“We’re in no hurry for you and your friends to depart,” Quintrel said amiably. “Treven Lowrey has chosen to become a permanent member here. Your group would be welcome to stay as well. Depending on how things go, you may need time to recuperate.” His expression darkened. “And leaving may not be advisable. Our scouts tell us that there’s an army headed this way, up the pass.”

Piran gave a snort. “I’d like to see them manage the Guardians.”

Quintrel gave him a mirthless look. “I’d rather not see that, thank you.” He paused. “If you’re successful in restoring the magic, we should be quite capable of handling the threat. If not —”

“If not, we’ll come up with something else,” Blaine replied testily. He was feeling the strain of the long afternoon of waiting.

“The ritual area has been prepared,” Quintrel said. “All of the disks except for the one you wear have been placed along the lines of power, as have the symbols of the thirteen houses. Lowrey and Connor have done a good job piecing together what we believe is the chant used in the Mirdalur ritual, thanks to the help of the Wraith Lord,” he said and inclined his head toward Connor. “My people will be in attendance to chant and lend their energy to the working, and, should you succeed, to help contain the magic.” He paused. “All that is missing is you – and your blood.”

“The space you’ll be using is the most sacred in all of Valshoa,” Quintrel continued. “The Valshoans esteemed it so highly that their women gave birth there, because they believed the powerful magic protected both mother and child from harm.”

“So it’s steeped in blood and birth,” Zaryae said, looking up from where she sat, surrounded by her divination tools. She had cast her cards and sought the guidance of her crystals, and now she nodded. “A very auspicious sign,” she said. Blaine did not feel any less worried.

“We’re as ready as we’ll ever be,” Blaine said.

“That’s why I’ve come,” Quintrel replied. “It is time.”

Quintrel led them through the heart of the city, past once-beautiful buildings with façades carved with scenes from the everyday life of their long-vanished culture. Perhaps under other circumstances, Blaine might have had the impulse to linger, but now his mind was far too preoccupied.

When they reached the center of the city, Quintrel left the roadway and walked up the debris-littered steps of a large, stately building. The pillars that had once graced its entrance lay broken and the roof was gone, but its former grandeur could still be glimpsed in the carved walls and elaborate mosaics visible on the floor. It reminded Blaine of the large customs house at the Castle Reach waterfront, and the king’s public court.

Kestel walked briskly beside him, with Piran on the other side and Zaryae just behind them. Connor and Dawe were next. Verran and the twins walked farther back, sizing up Quintrel’s contingent of mage-scholars and counting the Knights who escorted the group like an honor guard. Blaine eyed the Knights warily, wondering how vigorously they would defend Valshoa’s secrets.

The corridor opened into an ornate gate flanked with pillars. Torches around the walls lit the huge room. The room opened to the sky. Most of the rubble from the roof’s collapse had been cleaned away, exposing a beautiful floor tiled with smooth-cut stone laid out in winding, interlocking patterns, and in the room’s center, Blaine saw a stone-pattern maze that reminded him of the concentric circles at Mirdalur.

Blaine paused as they entered to survey the area. Quintrel had, indeed, prepared the space for the working. The smell of sage hung in the air, purifying the room of negative energies. Along the wall, he could see a series of small shrines built beneath the figures of Charrot, Esthrane, and Torven. Candles burned at each shrine, along with gifts of grain, wine, and fresh loaves of bread, all intended to invoke a blessing from the gods. Toward the center of the room, in the maze, Blaine saw twelve pillar candles and twined around each one, the strap holding an obsidian disk.

“Let’s have your friends stand inside the protective circle,” Quintrel said, guiding Blaine by the shoulder. “Step over the line so you don’t smudge it and break the warding.” He pointed to a reddish line as thick as a man’s finger that had been marked around the room. Zaryae bent down and touched a finger to the line, then tasted the red mark on her fingertip.

“It’s a mixture of salt and several other protective herbs,” she murmured.

Quintrel fixed her with a look. “Did you think we would leave the area unwarded?”

“What good is it until the magic returns?” Piran asked.

“We don’t know how wild the power will be when the ritual calls to it,” Quintrel said. “We’ve tried to create baffles to slow the rush of magic, to give Blaine a better chance to live through the working.”

“Much obliged,” Blaine muttered.

Just within the warding line Quintrel’s mage-scholars stood shoulder to shoulder. They parted as Quintrel and Blaine made their way toward the center of the room.

Magic might have slipped from mortal grasp, but power still resonated in this place. Blaine could feel it humming, just out of reach. The obsidian disk that had been handed down through his family hung on a strap around his neck. Outside, in the canyon, Pollard’s army was heading this way, and Blaine wondered what would happen if the city came under attack before the ritual could be completed.

Could the Guardians stop a full army?
he wondered.
It’s sundown. Will Reese and his
talishte
beat the Guardians’ protections, or have the Knights prepared other defenses designed for them?

Another thought occurred to him.
If the ritual works and it draws the wild magic the way it did at Mirdalur, what does that mean for everyone in the canyon pass
–
friend and foe?

Kestel touched his shoulder, then followed the others to where Quintrel indicated. Dawe, Piran, and Verran met Blaine’s gaze, and Piran gave him a mock salute. Zaryae made a gesture of blessing, while the twins left him with a shallow bow. Connor was the last to leave.