The Grand Crusade (38 page)

Since the Aurolani forces had already found his party, Kerrigan knew his use of magick could give nothing away.And if it could, the roasted beast would have long since done it. His right hand came up over his face and he invoked a night vision spell. Looking about, he could see shapes and shadows moving. Up at his camp something misshapen and spiky leaped out into a knot of shadows, scattering them. Resolute’s silhouette appeared atop the rock, with his hands flicking forward as his urZrethi bladestars spun into the night.

Kerrigan darted left, around the base of the hill, and drove directly toward the Grey Mist camp. The sounds of battle filled the night, killing any chance that the enemy would hear him coming. As he approached he found another of the things that had attacked him. It reminded him somewhat of a gvakra, though the body was more squat, with a thick hide and tail somewhat akin to a reptile. Instead of a mane, it did have a fleshy frill that sprang up around the neck.

The creature spun to face him, but its thick tail smashed into a tree, halting its progress. Kerrigan flicked a finger in the beast’s direction, using his telekinesis spell to crush its shallow skull. Its body shook once, savagely, right down to the tip of the tail, then it just lay still. He moved on.

As he went, he thought hard. When he was on Vilwan he’d had virtually no training as a combat mage. His masters, quite rightly, has assumed that he could innocently injure someone just because he was so strong in magick.And that was before I knew how to tap the true source. But despite their misgivings, he was not without some combat spells. He further assumed some of the things attacking would also have spells, so he planned accordingly and smiled as he moved.

Approaching the camp, he triggered a spell once used by Neskartu against the mages in Nawal. While really little more than a nuisance spell, for magickers it was the rough equivalent of scraping claws over slate, and very loudly. Those few magickers amid the attackers reacted instantly, casting their own counterspells to fend it off. Their efforts instantly identified them, so before he even broke into the circle of battle, he triggered a quick combat spell that sent blue sparks out, each leaping from a splayed fingertip. They traveled before him as if a cloud of ensorcelled midges, then, as he entered the Grey Mist camp at the north end, they shot forward toward their targets.

Chytrine’skryalnirihad been elegant and sylvan, but these creatures more closely resembled Resolute than they did the slender elves of Loquellyn. These wore fur, as did gibberers, but not the disorganized motley of those Aurolani fighters. These creatures had large dark splotches defined by a crisp webwork of tawny fur that rippled over thick muscles. They did have bestial heads, more canine than anything else, with huge fangs that flashed yellow in dying firelight. Some wore mail, others pieces of plate armor—but more as decoration than protection. They used curved blades, longer than the gibberer longknife, and slashed bloody wounds that spun elves to the ground.

The magick-users among them appeared little different than their brethren, save that they wore no metal and wielded staves and wands. One turned and swatted at the blue spark headed for him, but it burned through his hand and sank into his chest. Another of them snorted the spark. Fire shot from his eyes and ears as his body jerked and he flopped to the ground. The sparks reduced two others to torches, while the last cast a defensive spell. The spark moved about its perimeter, seeking a weakness it could exploit.

The screams and deaths of the mages did not go unnoticed. The Aurolani warriors turned and came at Kerrigan instead. They hurled knives or whatever else was convenient. Many missed him, but those that hit bounced off his armor. For a heartbeat Kerrigan imagined himself just standing there, letting them hew in vain at him, but he knew that if his strength failed, he would be cut down, so he acted.

He thrust his left fist into the air and triggered a spell that created a burst of searingly brilliant light. Creatures and elves alike shrieked and covered their eyes. All the combatants stopped, blinded, which broke the momentum of the enemy attack and gave the Grey Misters a moment to recover.

Kerrigan made good use of the break as well. As he had done at Vael, he cast a diagnostic spell, immediately getting a sense of the creature nearest him. While he had hoped he would understand enough of them as a result to make them all go to sleep, the necessary information eluded him. Instead he learned enough to pinpoint the nerves that registered pain in their bodies. He made a quick reversal on an elven healing spell and cast it.

The first creature hit shrieked. Its back bowed as every muscle clenched, then released. It crashed to the ground and thrashed, while others just fainted in agony. The spell passed through the enemy, convulsing some, rendering others limp, and caused the remaining magicker to lose control of its defensive spell. The spark darted in and punctured its chest, and it fell with smoke trailing from its nostrils.

The Grey Misters pounced on their enemies and began to slaughter them. Kerrigan cast a spell and scattered them from the one closest to him. “I want this one alive. The rest, I don’t care.”

The Grey Misters slunk away from Kerrigan’s prize, then began ripping other creatures apart. Kerrigan would have turned from the bloodbath, but he forced

upfor as long as they had been away from Vorquellyn, but that i

tdescend to bestiality, he shivered. A,they are noW, I could be,

carnage.

The look of fury on the prisoner’s face surprised Isaura. Pure venom flashed in her blue eyes, and her fingers curled into claws. She did not rise from the wooden bench, even though the chains hanging from her manacles would have allowed it. Scuff marks on the ground gave clear evidence of how far she could get, and Isaura hung back from that line.

She placed the tray of food on a small stone shelf, then raised both her hands to calm the prisoner. “I’ve brought you food, more than they have been giving you. I know the guards have been stealing from you.”

The woman’s blue eyes narrowed. “Some sort of game, is this? You starve me, then feed me, and out of gratitude I tell you what I know?”

“No, nothing like that.”

The woman’s gaze darted toward the doorway as Hlucri shambled in. “Lombo? Oh, by the gods, what have they done to you?”

Thesullancirisquatted in the doorway and sniffed. “Princess Sayce. Lombo dead.”

The woman looked stricken. Her hands slackened and she slumped back against the rough-carved wall of the subterranean prison. “Lombo dead. Will dead. Muroso dead.” Then she raised her hands to her face with a rattle of chains, and her body shook with sobs.

Isaura felt her stomach tighten. Never in all her days had she seen another person cry. She had cried, but no one else—neither her mother nor any of thesullanciri—had cried in her presence.And never have I heard such despair in a voice.

Isaura reached out a hand and would have gone to her, but Hlucri held her back. Sayce’s head came up, her eyes sharp, then she snorted. “Why did you stop her?”

Thesullancirishrugged. “Hlucri keeps her safe.”

“You once did that for me. You were a friend. A friend who would have helped me escape from here.”

Isaura stepped back. “Escape? You can’t escape from here. You would never make it south again.”

“Better to freeze to death than starve here.” Sayce rubbed a hand over the soiled stomach of her dress. “I’m pregnant. I need food.”

“I know you need food. I know the guards have been stealing it.” Isaura turned and got the tray again. “Hlucri told me, so I made sure I was bringing you your food. I didn’t know you were pregnant.”

Sayce stood, but slowly. “I am. Almost three months. I am carrying Will Norrington’s child.”

“I see.” Isaura extended the tray in her direction. “Will you take this? I promise there is nothing here to harm you. Or the child. The crock has soup. The bread and cheese are good.”

The red-haired prisoner took a step forward. Isaura couldn’t tell if she intended to lunge for her or not, but Hlucri made the question moot when he took the tray in one paw and extended it to Sayce. The princess took it and set it on her bench, then sat herself.

“There, you’ve done your good deed. Now you may go.”

Isaura looked back at the door. “I wanted to talk to you. Besides, you know I can’t leave you that tray and the crock.”

Sayce frowned, then took the lid off the crock. A little steam rose from it. She sniffed, then raised the crock in both hands and drank. She half gagged for a moment, then chewed and swallowed. She wiped her chin off on her sleeve and snorted.

“I wasn’t expecting meat. Do I want to know what it was?”

“Frostclaw. We eat them sometimes.”

“Better than being eaten by them.” Sayce broke off a small crust of the bread and started to chew. “What did you want to talk about?”

Isaura clasped her hands together at her waist. “The Norrington.”

The princess stiffened. “I don’t know that I want to talk about him. That’s very private.”

“I met him once. I saved his life.”

Sayce stared hard at her. “How?”

Hlucri grunted. “Lady Snowflake.”

“But how?” Sayce toyed with the pendant at her throat. “Who are you? I saw you waiting for the Nor’witch when I was brought here. Why would you save Will?”

Isaura lifted her chin. “In Aurolan my rank is equal to yours. I am Chytrine’s daughter—not by blood, but by choice. I am her heir. I am Isaura.”

Sayce raised an eyebrow. “Ah, so you save Will so he can kill your mother and you inherit this frozen wasteland?”

“No, it was nothing like that at all.” Isaura tried to sound casual, but knew the shock had to have registered on her face. “I saved Will because he had been attacked by one of my mother’s creatures. I know she did not intend that to happen—at least, I believed so at the time. Now, I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter because I saved him.”

“So you were cleaning up after your mother’s monster?” Sayce tore another hunk off the crust of bread and folded it around a piece of cheese. “I don’t believe that. There had to have been another reason.”

Isaura hesitated. The prisoner was right. She had cast herself and her path onto the flow of magick and had gone wherever it drew her. She found herself looking at a dying youth, and she would have cured him regardless. The fact that asullancirihad hurt him did spark in her a desire to correct that error, but it hadn’t been the only reason she had done it.

“I do not knowwhyI did what I did.” She faltered for a moment, then forged ahead more quietly. “I would do it again.”

“Why?”

“It was the right thing to do.”

Sayce laughed, then nibbled at the bread and cheese. “Saving your mother’s mortal enemy was the right thing to do? Your mother was my family’s mortal enemy, and I would have killed her in an eyeblink. I would have let her die the way Will was dying and been happy to have it happen.”

“No, you don’t know her. She’s not evil.”

“No?” The Murosan princess drank more soup, then chewed more meat. “Your mother has plunged the world into war. She has dragons that are burning cities to the ground. Her troops slaughter thousands as they pour into cities.”

Isaura’s eyes widened. “I was at Porjal. I saw what the people of the city did to attackgrichothka. They set traps that would maim and cause pain. They did that so the screams of the wounded would cause fear, and because a wounded person requires care. They were cruel by intent!”

“Because Aurolani troops invaded their homes, killed their families, and took away everything, including their hopes and dreams.” Sayce’s eyes blazed from within her lavender mask. “You have to ask yourself why they did that. Did we have a piece of the DragonCrown in Muroso? Did your mother ask if we did, if we would turn it over to her? No, her ravening hordes came with the worst winter ever, blowing through Sebcia and plunging straight into Muroso. For no reason at all.”

The woman’s vehemence shocked Isaura. “The south is a threat to Aurolan. The south invaded a quarter century ago.”

“Yes, after your mother laid siege to Fortress Draconis. But Aurolani forces invaded Noriva and Vorquellyn without any provocation.”

“The south is corrupt.” Isaura spoke quickly, but even before Sayce’s laughter could reach her, those words sounded hollow. Her mother had told her how the south was corrupt, and she had seen it. The waste, the filth of their cities, those

things disgusted her when compared to the austere purity of Aurolan. The south was just a rotting cesspit by comparison.

But I did hear laughter there. Rich laughter, from a variety of people. She’d heard it in the tavern where she healed Will, heard it in the streets, heard it in shadows and in the light. It sounded full and warm, much as Sayce’s laughter did. That Sayce could laugh while so far from home, in such dire straits, surprised Isaura.

Sayce swiped at a tear that dripped from beneath her mask. “That was funny, the south being corrupt, especially coming from Chytrine’s heir. I don’t mean to laughatyou, but, if you believe that

you’ve led a very sheltered life, haven’t you?”

Isaura frowned. “You are making fun of me.”

“I am, but don’t go. I’m sorry.” Sayce returned to her food and finished the soup quickly. “I just want you to understand that, because of your mother, my nation no longer exists. My father and mother, my brothers and sisters, nephews, nieces, and cousins are all dead. I have no family at all, save the child I am carrying, because of your mother or her agents. Your mother has taken from me everything but the will to live, and she’d take that if she knew how.”

“That’s not true.”

Sayce looked up at her. “Does your mother know you are here?”

“No, but this is something with which she should not be bothered. She has more important things to do.”

Sayce looked at Hlucri. “You only told Isaura about how my food was being stolen?”

Thesullancirishrugged. “Best done that way.”

The Murosan looked back at Isaura. “Why did you want to talk to me? Really?”

Isaura looked down at her hands. “I saw many things in the south. Things that made me feel odd. I love my mother, but things being done in her name were horrible. I don’t know. I am confused. I know she is good. She loves me and her people, but I don’t understand any of this.”