Alliance (6 page)

“Nykin, I need to meet with Eldin and Nysad as soon as we get back to the palace. Can you arrange it through Fimor?”

Nykin nodded. “Yes, Fimor says he’ll contact Vashek now.” He glanced over his shoulder, meeting Ryneq’s gaze. “Can I ask why?”

“I want all our people behind the palace walls as soon as
possible.”

Nykin slid his hand over Ryneq’s and squeezed once. “Seen enough?” he asked, taking hold of the harness again, and Ryneq immediately felt the loss of his touch.

He was pretty sure Nykin had all but forgiven him, but his words still rang in Ryneq’s ears. Things had been going so well between them, and Ryneq wished he could take it back. But he couldn’t. He could only move forward and hope they’d get back to where they were before this mess. “Yes,” he said, eventually. “Let’s go.”

T
HEY
FLEW
out over the sea before veering back toward the landing caves, and Ryneq cast his gaze over the shimmering water with awe. The clouds had almost all been burned off under the rising sun—it must be nearing midday by now—and the surface shone under its rays. The deep blue water looked so inviting Ryneq briefly imagined having Fimor fly low over it so he could jump in.

“Ryneq, look!”

Fimor swung around until they were facing back out to sea, and Ryneq strained to see what had Nykin all excited.

“What? I don’t see anything.”

“It’s the
Wildfire
and the
Dragon’s Breath
. They’re still a long way out, but Fimor assures me it’s them.”

Ryneq could just make out two blobs on the horizon—he’d have to take Fimor’s word for what they were, but he felt relief course through him. “They’re a lot earlier than I expected.” He glanced up at the sun. “Shouldn’t it have taken them at least another day, even with favorable winds?”

“How long do you think before they make it to land?” Nykin had to shout louder than before as the wind suddenly picked up, whipping at their faces.

The wind was unusually strong for this time of year, and Ryneq wondered if it was entirely natural. Maybe that explained the ships’ early appearance.

Ryneq squinted, trying to accurately judge the distance. “Hard to tell from so far away, but judging from the time it took them to get here, maybe five hours or so.”

Fimor was already heading to one of the cave entrances, and Ryneq took one last look at the ships before clinging to Nykin as Fimor prepared to land.

By the time they got down to the palace again, Eldin and Nysad were waiting for them in the war room. Nykin hesitated as Ryneq pulled open the heavy oak door.

“What?” Ryneq looked back at him when he didn’t immediately follow.

“I didn’t know whether….” He waved his hand, encompassing the table where Eldin and Nysad sat talking quietly.

“Whether you should stay?” Ryneq turned back to face him, blocking him from view of the table. Nykin nodded. “I want you here, Nykin.”

“All right.” Nykin smiled. It was just the barest upturn of lips, but to Ryneq it felt as though they were getting that little bit closer to being okay again.

When Ryneq reported they’d seen the ships and they should be docking within the next five hours or so, Nykin volunteered to head down to the jetty to wait for them. Under normal circumstances Ryneq would have made the journey himself, but he couldn’t afford to leave the palace now. Nykin would meet the elven elders in his role as royal consort and ride back with them on horseback, with Eldin providing cover from above. Nykin would ride to the coast on Fimor, though, with Eldin and the other riders. This would give them time to organize everything at the naval barracks for the ships’ arrival. A complement of guards would meet them there and help escort the elves back to Torsere. The horses were still at the barracks from when they’d sailed out, and more would be taken to accommodate the extra elven soldiers.

He waited for Eldin to leave, then escorted Nykin outside to the passageway and closed the door behind him. “Take no unnecessary risks.” He gripped Nykin’s shoulder and squeezed tightly, hoping Nykin understood how much he wanted to say but couldn’t. They weren’t alone, Ryneq’s guards standing dutifully either side of the war room doors, so he stepped back, letting his hand drop back down. “May the Gods protect you.”

“You also.”

And then he was gone. It felt wrong to watch him go. They’d been together for the last few weeks, and Ryneq had gotten used to having Nykin by his side. Yet another thing to curse Seran for. With a heavy sigh, Ryneq opened the door behind him and went back in to join Nysad.

“There is another matter we need to discuss first.”

“Sire?” Nysad looked up curiously from where he’d been studying the map in front of him.

“How many people from the outlying villages are currently inside the walls?”

Nysad tapped his finger on the map, indicating the closest village to the border. “There’s been people arriving from Miresh the past couple of days, but only about a third have made the journey so far. Some people from the other villages have come, but on the whole those closer to the palace are staying in their homes for now.”

Ryneq wanted them all either behind the stone walls of the palace, or sent down to the Torserian villages on the south coast. The palace would host many of his people but not all. They’d need to send some south as soon as they were evacuated from their villages. Anywhere but in the path of Seran’s army. “We need to move them, now.”

“Agreed, Sire. We can start bringing in the people from these villages today.” He pointed to the three places on the map less than half a days’ journey away. “But the other villages will take over a day to reach. I would also suggest we move them out under cover of darkness.” He sat back in his chair, meeting Ryneq’s gaze. “A small company of soldiers arriving won’t draw much attention, but the evacuation of whole villages would undoubtedly arouse suspicion. We have to assume Seran has scouts along the border.”

Ryneq nodded. “It’s what I would do.” He pushed his chair back, stood, and walked over to the fireplace. He hated not knowing when Seran’s attack would come. They could monitor the camp from the sky, but that still wouldn’t give them more than a day’s warning. They needed to get the people in now. “Very well, Nysad, organize the patrols to evacuate the villages. Those nearest to the border will move at night.”

“Yes, Sire.” Nysad stood and moved to join him. “I would like to lead the patrol to Miresh.”

Ryneq smiled, a little ruefully. “I assumed you would.” He never doubted his captain of the guard would take the most dangerous patrol for himself. “When do you expect to arrive?”

“If we leave now, then we can make it to Miresh by early afternoon tomorrow. That gives us time to get them organized before dark.”

“Very well.” He clapped Nysad on the shoulder and gripped it tight for a moment, much as he’d done with Nykin. He’d known Nysad for a long time, trusted him with his life, and he needed him back here in one piece. “See you in three days.”

“Sire.” Nysad saluted and left.

All Ryneq could do now was wait.

T
HE
JOURNEY
to the royal docks was long but relatively uneventful. By the time they reached the naval barracks, the
Wildfire
was being tied off, with the
Dragon’s Breath
not far behind. Nykin had joined the guard on horseback, while Eldin remained in the sky. It felt strange knowing Fimor circled up above without him, but he had a job to do down here this time. They quickly secured their horses and walked along the jetty where planks were already being lowered for people to disembark and unload the ships.

Nykin spied Peros carrying a large trunk with two other soldiers, and strode down the wooden jetty to meet him. “Peros, it’s good to see you.” He clapped Nysad’s second-in-command on the shoulder as the trunk was lowered to the ground.

“Nykin.” Peros stood upright and grinned. “It’s good to be home.”

Nykin smiled back. Now that Peros and the rest of the palace guard had returned home, maybe Ryneq would be able to relax a little more. They may have a huge enemy force knocking at their door, but at least now all Ryneq’s men were together—Nykin looked up at the sound of loud, familiar voices—and they’d brought reinforcements.

“Faelon!” Nykin slid past Peros to pull the elf into an enthusiastic hug. “You’re looking so much better already, and it’s only been just over a day and a half since we saw you.”

Faelon laughed, his blue eyes full of mischief. “What can I say? You and Fimor have magical healing powers.” He finally stepped back, letting go of Nykin. Avelor appeared at his side then and snaked an arm around Faelon’s waist, as though offering him support. Not that Faelon seemed to need it much—he really did look much healthier than when they’d left Alel.

“Welcome to Torsere. You made incredibly good time. I trust your journey was uneventful?”

“Yes, thank you.” Avelor smirked and waved his hand through the air. “The wind was most cooperative.”

Nykin didn’t quite know what to make of that. Could the elves manipulate the elements with their magic? He’d have to ask about that later.

“Nykin?” Peros gestured farther along the jetty to where Glaevahl and three elven soldiers were being escorted off the ship.

“If you’ll excuse me, Peros will see you to the horses.” It would be dark soon. They’d have to stay at the naval barracks overnight, then set off for the Stone Palace at dawn. He squeezed Peros on the shoulder once more and walked over to where the elven elder had stopped while he waited for the eleven guards to join him. “Welcome, Glaevahl. The people of Torsere are honored to have you and your men here.” Nykin greeted him with a short bow of his head.

“Thank you, Nykin,” Glaevahl replied, inclining his head in return. He fell in step alongside Nykin, with the other elves close behind.

With the extra horses they’d brought down, it didn’t take long for everyone to find a mount for the short ride to the barracks. Peros would stay on the docks to supervise the unloading of the ships, while Nykin led the others to the barracks for food and a place to sleep.

R
YNEQ
WAS
up early the next morning, unable to sleep with the imminent arrival of Nykin and the elves. When they finally reached the palace, Ryneq met them at the front steps.

“Welcome to Torsere, Glaevahl. Your presence is greatly appreciated.” Ryneq greeted him with a short bow of his head.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Glaevahl replied, inclining his head in return. “I only hope we can be of some use.”

Faelon and Avelor stood just behind him, and Ryneq greeted them in turn.

Nykin stood off to one side, and Ryneq walked over to stand beside him. “Nykin.” He leaned in close, resting one hand briefly on Nykin’s lower back. “Good to have you back home.”

“Sire.”

Ryneq wanted to pull Nykin into his arms and breathe him in, but he dutifully stepped away and gestured for the elves to enter the palace.

The elves declined the offer to retire to their rooms and freshen up, much to Ryneq’s relief. “Thank you, but I believe that can wait,” Glaevahl said, as Ryneq opened the door and gestured for everyone to enter the great hall. “Whereas the things we need to discuss cannot.”

Tables sat all along the back wall, already laid out with various foods and an abundance of wine and water. Ryneq made a mental note to thank his people for putting together such an appetizing feast. He waited for everyone to help themselves to the food and take a seat at the long table dominating the center of the room. He wouldn’t usually force his guests to serve themselves like this, but the fewer people involved in these talks, the better. Ryneq had learned his lesson.

“It’s bad isn’t it, Sire?” Peros spoke quietly as he came to stand beside Ryneq. As Nysad’s second-in-command, he would act in his stead until the patrols returned.

“I got a good overall view from the air, and it’s”—he glanced at Peros briefly before shaking his head—“well, I think it’s about as bad as it can get.”

Peros’s shoulders slumped a little before he pulled himself together. He gestured to the elves, who were now almost all seated around the large table. “At least we have help.”

“Yes. Let’s hope it’s enough.”

“Agreed, Sire.”

With a nod to Peros, Ryneq clapped his hands loudly and walked over to stand at the head of the table. “Since time is of the essence, I suggest we get started.” The map from the war room now covered the table in the great hall, and Ryneq used a long thin stick to point at it. “Seran’s army is situated all along the Athisi border, starting here”—he ran the stick along a good length of the dotted line signifying the border between Athisi and Torsere—“and ending about here.”

A low whistle sounded from Talis, one of the guards, while others around the table spoke in hushed whispers. Peros eyed the map before meeting Ryneq’s gaze. “We have some idea of the size from our patrols, but I’m sure you got a better overall view from the sky.” “Despite the fog covering a good section of it, it’s obvious their camp is huge. And remember, in addition to the soldiers, he also has the witch with him.” Ryneq paused to pour a drink.

“If King Seran has an army of that size at his disposal, and also what we can assume is a very powerful witch, then why hasn’t he attacked already?” Murmurs of agreement echoed around the room after Avelor asked the question. Ryneq took a long drink of his wine, then set it carefully back onto the table. “We believe the fog covering Seran’s camp has been created by the witch to hide the true size of his army. The fact that he has yet to attack leads us to believe he doesn’t have all his men assembled yet.”

“But surely it’s only a matter of time before that happens?” Avelor shared a worried glance with Faelon. “And then there would be nothing to stop them. We need to get working on some sort of protection right now.”

“What did you have in mind?” Ryneq felt the spark of hope flare in his chest.

“Glaevahl can explain it better than I.” Avelor turned expectantly toward the elven elder.