The Dark Glory War (33 page)

“Oh, I did want it, which is why it made a very suitable sacrifice.”

“You’re a fool, Hawkins. That bow might have won us the war.”

“If that bow could defeat Chytrine, she never would have placed it in the hands of asullanciri.” Seethe wrung water out of her long hair. “And a weapon like that does not a warrior make.”

Scrainwood’s nostrils flared. “Meaning?”

“Meaning,” offered Lord Norrington, “Hawkins had good reason to offer the bow up, didn’t you, Hawkins?”

“I think so, my lord.” I opened my hands. “The magick in it would have made each shot more certain, if I chose to rely on the bow. The problem is that I would have stopped trusting my judgment. It would have destroyed me, in little bits and pieces. It wasn’t a thing meant for mortal hands, and now it is no longer in them.”

Kirill smiled slowly. “Personal gifts, things that have meaning for us, that are hard to give up … these are the things Tagothcha treasures. Selflessly given—which we know Chytrine’s gifts could never be.” From his right wrist he tugged the braided bracelet woven of his dead wife’s hair. He grimaced as he pulled it off—less because of the pain in that shoulder, I think, than the pain of losing the bracelet.

He lofted it into the sea. “There, that is all I have of my wife, save memories and my daughter.”

Tagothcha accepted his gift and the sea calmed a bit more.

Prince Augustus stared hard at the obsidian water, then nodded. “Listen to me, Tagothcha. You know me, Augustus of Alcida. You have my word that my gift to you will be special indeed. I am sending an order, as fast as I am able, for my grooms back in Yslin to drive my favorite horse, Cursus, a horse I raised from a foal, into your depths.”

Augustus’ voice trailed off and the seas lessened their pounding on the breakwater. He nodded, then begged our pardon and marched off in search of thearcanslata that would relay his order to Yslin.

We all looked at Scrainwood. He ran a hand over his mouth and in his narrowed eyes I could read all the calculations his mind was going through. His gaze flicked from me to Seethe, to Prince Kirill, and then Lord Norrington. He closed his eyes for a moment, then twisted his gold wedding band from his left hand.

“Here, take this, the symbol of my undying love for my wife and the mother of my children.”

The waves accepted his gift and perhaps they did abandon some of their restlessness.

A wry grin twisted Lord Norrington’s features. He dropped to one knee and scooped up seawater from a puddle in his cupped hands. He lowered his face into it and bubbles sprang up to pop around his ears. He raised his face again, with crystal drops running from his chin, and poured the water from his hands back into the ocean from which it had come.

The ripples from the water spread out far and fast, rolling over waves and leaving a placid surface in their wake. I gasped to see it and KirilFs jaw dropped open. Seethe kept her face expressionless, but Scrainwood’s eyes widened enough to account for her shock and his all at once.

Kirill grasped Lord Norrington’s left forearm. “What did you do, my friend?”

“I gave it a sacrifice of the thing I hold most dear.” Lord Norrington smiled slowly and wiped his chin with the back of his left hand. “I gave Tagothcha my real name.”

Seethe bowed deeply to Lord Norrington. “As one who has made a similar sacrifice for a cause I hold above all others, I salute you.” As she came up, an edge crept into her voice. “You know what you have done, don’t you?”

He slowly nodded. “Does it matter when we’re faced with the need to get to Fortress Draconis?”

“Perhaps not.”

I shook my head. “Real name? What are you talking about?”

Lord Norrineton lauahed and. walking Dast me. tousled my hair with a playful flick of his right hand. “What you know of the world, Hawkins, is admirable, but it is not all there is to know. You have my trust, as per your wish, and someday you will have this secret. When you are ready for it.”

He looked out at the sea. “Theweirun is ready to receive us. Let’s move.”

Te left Svarskya in flames behind us. Dusk fell as we sailed, [and I recall seeing Prince Kirill standing there on the aftdeck, limned by the fires. At water’s edge gibberers and vylaens danced and cavorted, though whether they were joyous at their victory or outraged at our escape, I could not tell. One company of gibberers did run out along the breakwater to harry us, giving the Okrans archers who formed the Prince’s Honor Guard one last chance at revenge. The Okrans archers feathered the lot of them, casting one more sacrifice into Tagothcha’s fluid grasp.

The winds blew in our favor, allowing us to travel as swiftly as we could toward Fortress Draconis. Tagothcha smoothed the way enough so that even Leigh no longer felt seasick. He still seemed weak, and used Temmer as a crutch, but some of his wit was back. He amused the Okrans soldiery amidships with his temeryx poem, and even offered some quick rhymes on their names.

Dusk of the second day brought us very close to Vorquellyn. Though Lord Norrington ordered the ships to steer well north of it, keeping us safe from any Aurolani forces that might ship from the island’s harbors, Tagothcha swirled currents so we skimmed through the breakers crashing on Vorquellyn’s beaches. He would let us get no closer than that, though, so we had no chance to set foot on the island.

I knew, as did everyone else in the fleet, that landing troops in Vorquellyn was folly. Not only had we no clue as to the number and type of forces that would oppose us there, but liberating the island would not lift the siege of Fortress Draconis. Any action on the island, even if it were complete and overwhelming, would be a hollow victory.

Even with that realization, I very much wanted to venture forth. I felt it would be keeping faith with my pledge to Resolute, though I knew I could do nothing alone. Others looked longingly at the island, and yet others fearfully, but none with the anguish that Seethe did.

“Tagothcha does this to torture me.” Seethe rested against theInvictus‘ masthead, with her black hair blowing back past her shoulders. “I showed him contempt and now he tries to break my heart.”

Standing beside her, with the cool breeze puckering my flesh, I studied the island that once had been her home. Trying to describe it is difficult because much of what I saw was colored by the sad tone of her voice, or the distant longing in her gaze. In both I could imagine a land that was greatly desirable, down on a level that shot past conscious valuations of yield per acre, or how much lumber could be harvested, or how much water was to be had. She needed Vorquellyn and needed it the way I needed air to breathe and water to drink.

The island itself was such that it seemed to be a shadow of what she must have remembered. It was black, the whole of it, like a hillside after a wildfire. Trees had been stripped of foliage, leaving brittle black limbs to claw at the sky. Vales folded in on themselves, black on black, hillsides seeming to cast shadows that became mountains behind them. Streams that ran to the sea poured water blacker than bilge down dark cliffsides.

Throughout the time the sun illuminated Vorquellyn I saw no life, but with night the island came alive. Red lights, millions of them, began to glow all over, as if the dead trees had red embers still burning in their heartwood. I held my hands out to see if I could feel any warmth, but instead my hands grew colder. Things moved within the landscape, shadows blotting out the red lights from time to time. Terrible shrieking rang from the hills, and snarling growls accompanied them, but I heard nothing of the noble howls of predators, or proud roaring of a triumphant killer standing over prey. Instead all the sounds were born of fear—fear of being consumed, fear of having a kill stolen.

Vorquellyn had become a dead land where brutish cruelty held sway.

I stroked Seethe’s back with my left hand. “I am so sorry for your loss.”

She chewed her lower lip for a moment, then looked at me with a single tear rolling down her left cheek. “When they came, I was three years younger than you are now. I was days from my bonding to the land. At first we were told not to worry, that our warriors would hold, but that was because no one could believe Kree’chuc could sustain his attack. But the ships still came, and they landed north and south, and in the west. We had counted on the sea as our fortress and Tagothcha betrayed us.

“My sister and young brother were given to my care and I kept us together. We escaped in the great flotilla. Sebcia, Saporcia, Muroso, merchant fleets from all the states came to carry us to safety. Fisherfolk, too—men and women who had forever stayed away from Vorquellyn because of wild tales of what we would do if they were found fishing in our waters— they came to help.”

She sniffed and another tear crawled from her left eye. I reached over and brushed it away. “And Loquellyn, did they send ships?”

“Some, I’ve been told, though the Loquelves maintain they were engaged crushing the Aurolani fleet. That may be true, they may have prevented Kree’chuc from reinforcing his army on Vorquellyn, but by that time it was too late. Our homeland had been overrun and the desecration began.”

Seethe gave me a half smile. “You want to know why Vorquelves, for the most part, endure conditions in Mantowns like the Downs? Why we have adopted Man-words for our names? It is the brave kindness men showed in saving us. We honor that, and we honor your sense of urgency.”

“I don’t understand.”

She reached up and stroked my cheek in turn. “The leisure of a long life allows elves to view things in cycles, as if time and relations ebbed and flowed like the tides. We wait until the time for something is optimal, instead of merely possible. Men work when work is to be done, rejoicing at how easy it might be at the right time, but not shying from it if the timing is not perfect. The Vorquelves cannot wait for the best time to take Vorquellyn back. Elves tell us the time is not right, and men, well, the benefit of shedding their blood to free a land to which they have no claim is hard to see. Resolute’s hope for a campaign to free Vorquellyn is a slender one. I hope, by joining this expedition, by fighting with you to save men, I will inspire others to help us.”

I nodded solemnly. “I gave Resolute my pledge that I will see Vorquellyn liberated before I die. I make that same pledge to you.”

Seethe watched me in silence, her golden eyes unmoving. Then her smile broadened, but her brows furrowed, giving her a puzzled expression. “You are a curious man, Tarrant Hawkins. You are young, yet very old; wise, but terribly foolish. You see things with clarity, but you do not see far enough. Even so, you commit yourself to your friends and your ideals, and you do not waver from them.”

I swallowed hard. “I don’t know what to say to that.”

“And yet you admit it.” She laughed a little. “That’s one of your more endearing qualities.”

I almost mouthed one of the quick, glib remarks that Leigh would have once made, but I swallowed it instead. “Thank you.”

“You are more than welcome, Tarrant, more than welcome.” She turned forward again, resting her elbows on the wale and studied the red lights on her homeland. “I know you will be true to your pledge, and I look forward to standing with you in the heart of a Vorquellyn renewed.”

It took us a full day to sail past Vorquellyn. I stayed with Seethe all that time. I wrapped her in the blanket Leigh had given me and slumbered with her against the bulwark. I got us food and water. We did not talk much. We didn’t feel the need to talk. An occasional touch, feeling her lean against me, that was all we needed. Having relied on men to save her from Vorquellyn, and relying on a man to support her as she sailed past, I think these things felt right and natural to her.

Once past Vorquellyn, it was decided we would put in at some of the various coves and harbors that dotted the Ghost Marches coast. We would land small scouting parties to see what we could learn about the Aurolani forces in the area.Arcanslata communications with Fortress Draconis indicated that the Aurolani forces—two large armies worth—had cut off the landward edge of the peninsula. This was not unexpected since Chytrine could not afford to leave Fortress Dragonis behind her advance where the troops could disrupt lines of supply and sally forth to attack her armies from the rear.

A fleet blockaded the harbor at Fortress Draconis, and while it was deemed likely that we could win through it, our doing so would not lift the siege. It was thought we might be able to accomplish that task by landing a force to the west and coming overland while our fleet engaged the Aurolani fleet. Chytrine’s ground forces might assume our entire force had been fed into Fortress Draconis at that point, leaving them vulnerable to an attack from their rear.

Before we could do that, however, we needed to guarantee that no Aurolani troops ranged through the Ghost Marches to fall on us from behind. Each ship in the fleet filled a long boat with a dozen warriors and dropped us off at various points. We were to look around, see what we could find out, and report back after a day of scouting.

Leigh, Nay, Seethe, and I made up a third of theInvictus‘ scouting party. Lord Norrington wanted to come along, but his position made that impossible, just as Prince KiriU’s injuries kept him aboard ship. We did have with us two Gyrkyme, toward whom Seethe acted somewhat coldly, but she agreed to travel with them nonetheless. The Loquelf scouts refused to have Gyrkyme with them, despite the ease with which the Gyrkyme could fly out to a ship and report findings—much less the ease with which they could fly around and see much more than we could on the ground.

The Loquelves were not completely unsympathetic, however. Word had gotten around about my giving thesullanciri bow to Tagothcha despite having lost my bow in Svarskya. One of the elven bowyers took a silverwood blank and carved it into a close match for the sort of horsebow I was accustomed to using. He likewise cut down two dozen arrows to match my bow’s shorter draw. He fletched them in green and white, the Oriosan colors, and sent them with compliments.

I didn’t know how to react to such kindness and the notoriety I’d gained. I suppose, in looking at the whole of what Nay and Leigh and I had done, we had done a lot, but I had no perspective on it. We slew temeryces in Westwood because we had no choice; likewise fighting as we did at Atval. And Leigh’s blind bowshot at the festival on Yslin had become a thing of legend, yet I knew, as did Nay and Leigh, that blind luck had been more at play than skill. Our actions at the bridge and the killing of twosullanciri, thesewere momentous things, but they were also things about which we had no choice. By virtue of our innocence we had embarked on an adventure that wiser, more experienced folk would have rejected.