Chaos Descending (22 page)

The attack was so massive that the knights who were watching the battle in the fading twilight had to shield their eyes. Brianna unleashed a wave of fire that completely engulfed the bird. The wretched creature screamed in agony, then fell like a shooting star. The blast had knocked it off course so that it crashed right beside Sorva, but fortunately not on top of the dragon. The bird flipped and flopped, its body a raging blaze of fire. Brianna, lifted high on the heat from below, floated in the air where she watched the bird’s death throes. She had expected the bird to be hurt, perhaps even mortally wounded by the blast. The fire had been intended to vaporize feathers and blister the flesh below, but the bird’s skin and tissue seemed to burn like dry wood. It became the biggest bonfire Brianna had ever seen, burning longer and hotter than she could have imagined. Only Sorva’s natural resistance to fire kept it from being consumed by the bird’s massive blaze.

It took several minutes for the bird to die, and by the time Brianna floated back down to the ground, most of the creature was gone. It had burned to thick, powdery ash. Brianna knew that even as the day ended, people for miles around would be able to see the dark, oily smoke from the bird’s burning corpse, but she felt no regret. As soon as she landed she placed herself between the knights and Sorva. She wouldn’t let anyone or anything else hurt the dragon, who was still trying to roll over onto its stomach.

For several minutes the knights watched her, but then they regrouped and only their commander rode forward. He was a pompous man, looking down his nose at her from where he sat in the saddle, but Brianna could see the fear he was trying to hide. Sorva was obviously wounded and vulnerable, but the knights had seen what Brianna could do and none of them would dare attack her now.

“It seems we have succeeded,” the commander said.

Brianna didn’t respond; she just stared at the officer, who was uncomfortable with her silence.

“You should leave with us,” he said. “You are wanted in Felson.”

“Go to hell,” she said, her voice tight with fury.

“So be it,” he said, looking a little too relieved by her answer.

He turned his horse and ordered his men to move out. The soldiers reformed their long line and rode their horses away. Brianna felt herself sag with a sudden sense of exhaustion. She was just turning back to Sorva when she heard an eerie sound. It was a squawk, just familiar enough that Brianna could tell it was the same piercing cry of the bird that had attacked Sorva, only this time the pitch was much higher, the sound not nearly as loud. She felt every muscle in her body tense as she searched the sky for another attacker.

Then, out of the flaming ashes of the bird’s burning body she saw movement. A small bird, barely the size of a raven, hopped out of the flames. Its body looked raw, and it was featherless, but it spread its wings and took to the air. Only then did Brianna realize that the bird was a phoenix, and she’d just seen it reborn from the ashes of its former body.

Chapter 21

Lorik ran, following the shady form of his friend as they raced away from the camp the mercenaries had made. He was breathing hard before he saw the horses. It was dark—the only light was from the stars and moon. Vera had three horses in a small depression among the rolling hills so that they were hard to spot until you were almost on top of them.

“Are you okay?” Vera asked Stone when they finally stopped running.

“Fine,” he said.

Lorik was irritated that the younger man wasn’t even breathing hard.

“They never saw me coming.”

“We should keep moving,” Lorik said. “They’ll be looking for us soon.”

“A thank you wouldn’t be amiss,” Vera snapped. “Stone did just save your life.”

“He’s saved mine before,” Stone said. “We aren’t keeping track.”

“I am grateful,” Lorik said as he climbed up into the saddle of the third horse. “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

“Didn’t see a need to interfere at first,” Stone explained. “Those soldiers looked like they were escorting their biggest hero.”

“Yes, but it seems King Yettlebor is craftier than we expected,” Lorik said. “He’s brought in mercenaries and given them lands, titles, and the authority to do whatever they please.”

“He’s a fool,” Vera proclaimed.

“He’s strengthening his position,” Lorik said as the horses trotted south through the darkness.

“Men like that are only loyal to themselves,” Vera said.

“Greed is a powerful motivator,” Stone added.

“And Yettlebor is giving away the treasury to keep hard men like those around him,” Lorik said. “He knows he needs time to solidify his position as king of Ortis.”

“You’ve given him a year,” Vera said.

“Perhaps it would have been better to root him out right away,” Lorik said. “But the last thing I wanted was more bloodshed.”

“Will it be any less bloody now?”

“No,” he told her. “But I’m ready to do what I have to do now. I did my best to be content in the Wilderlands. I gave peace a chance, but there was no peace in my heart.”

“I would imagine that there has been very little peace anywhere in Ortis with mercenaries on the loose.”

“Yettlebor should have used his time more wisely,” Lorik said. “He could have used his army to secure the northern settlements, not give them away as bribes to mercenaries.”

“Well, at least we know what kind of man we’re facing,” Stone said. “He’s desperate enough to do anything. That’s information well worth having. We can’t underestimate him again.”

“No,” Lorik agreed. “We have to be just as devious as he is if we want to take the throne.”

“I’ll just be happy if we all live through another day,” Vera said.

Daylight flooded over the hills several hours later while Lorik and his companions were walking their horses. The night had seemed to drag on and on, but stopping was dangerous. Not only were the mercenaries sure to be following them, but they might even circle around and raise the alarm in Ort City. If King Yettlebor knew that Lorik was coming to the city, he would certainly have his guards on high alert.

They had stopped talking at some point in the night when exhaustion demanded that they focus all their remaining energy on staying awake. But the sun seemed to revive them, and they stopped just long enough for Vera to hand out hard biscuits, apples, and small chunks of a very sharp cheese. The only redeeming quality to the meal was the juiciness of the apples, but after they ate they all felt better. Vera rode for a while, nodding off in the saddle as Stone led her horse.

“So what is your plan?” Stone said. “You still think simply confronting Yettlebor will be of any benefit?”

“No,” Lorik said. “A man who willingly surrounds himself with criminals and thieves cannot be reasoned with. I learned that early on in Hassell Point.”

“So… where does that leave us?”

“I’m not sure,” Lorik said. “Perhaps we’ll get lucky and he’ll be away from the city.”

“What will that accomplish?”

“If he isn’t there, I’ll just assume the throne and take control of his army. I’m sure I can raise enough men loyal to me to hold the castle.”

“And he’ll just give up?” Stone asked, his skepticism obvious.

“I said that luck would be a factor. Besides, if we have the stronger position, he may have no choice but to surrender his claim.”

“I highly doubt that. In my experience there’s only one way to deal with a man like Yettlebor.”

“I want to find a way that minimizes bloodshed. I don’t want my rule to be started with murder.”

“If a man comes into your house and decides to claim it as his own, you have every right to kill that man. It’s common law. Besides, this isn’t the beginning of your rule. That was defined very clearly when you came out of the Wilderlands and rescued nearly a thousand citizens who had been taken prisoner because the former king abandoned them. Your legacy already includes pushing back the biggest Norsik invasion in over a century and the defeat of the witch’s army. Not to mention rescuing the queen from a wicked necromancer in Baskla.”

“That was a much easier problem than the one facing us now,” Lorik said. “We had nothing to lose against the Norsik or the witch’s army. Fighting, even if we had died, was preferable to falling to either of them. But now we have to consider the innocent. If we fight, people will die. Fathers and sons, citizens of our own kingdom who are in no danger from king Yettlebor’s occupation of the throne.”

“Perhaps not directly,” Stone said. “But Yettlebor has made bad men rulers in a kingdom that is already fractured and divided. Before King Oveer left Ortis, taking all his nobles and soldiers with him, a man who was treated unfairly could appeal to a greater lord. Now these mercenaries have unfettered control over the people living on the lands that have been in their families for generations. Suddenly the new lords are cruel men, with no oversight and no accountability. If you don’t act to stop Yettlebor, many more will die under his rule than if you raise an army to fight him. And the wanton cruelty will go on for years, Lorik. Now you just think about that.”

“I’m taking lessons on Kingdom Law from a man who not long ago was on the wrong side of that law,” Lorik teased.

“You have to know the law if you’re going to break it. That way you don’t get hung or dismembered over some trifling incident.”

“I’m not discounting your ideas,” Lorik said. “We may discover that your way is the only way, but I want to make sure it is the only way before we act.”

“Just don’t take too long to decide,” Stone said. “There is one thing we know for sure. Yettlebor wants you dead. If we give him too much time and opportunity, he might succeed.”

Lorik thought long and hard about what Stone had said. His friend was right in many ways, but he wasn’t sure if the end really justified the means. Did fighting a war really mean saving lives? Lorik couldn’t quite wrap his mind around that idea. He wanted to protect his people, but did the people of Ortis even want that help? Did they really see him as their protector, as their king? He wasn’t sure. And what about the magic that the Drery Dru had urged him to find? So far, Lorik had found nothing and felt weaker by the day. He tried to convince himself that he was just exhausted because he hadn’t slept well in days, but that wasn’t what bothered him. It was the fact that just a year before he could have jogged all day and night without needing to stop. He felt as if the mystical power he’d once wielded gave him the right to rule, but somehow it had been taken from him, and he had no idea how to get it back.

They made camp late in the evening, with no fire. They were all exhausted, but Lorik forced himself to keep watch. He sat up for hours, his mind wandering at times, but he had a clear view of the area around their camp. Even in the darkness he felt confident that he could see a man or animal approaching. Stone relieved him half way through the night, and Lorik fell asleep on the ground with no blanket or even a cloak. When he woke up he was cold and stiff, but he felt better than he had the day before.

“We don’t have a fire for food, so drink a little wine to warm yourself up,” Vera told him.

The wine she had was nothing like the sweet, fruity wines of the Drery Dru. Vera’s wine had an astringent quality that made it difficult to drink, but it did warm Lorik up. After an hour of walking his horse, Lorik no longer felt stiff. The day was bright and cool. It made Lorik feel like anything was possible. It was after noon when they saw the rider. The rolling hills made it appear as if the rider was sometimes there, and sometimes gone, but eventually they came close enough to make out a few details.

“It’s not a soldier,” Stone said.

“It’s not even a man,” Vera said. “That’s a woman.”

“Why would a woman be all alone out here?” Stone asked.

“Can’t a woman go for a ride without having a man along?” Vera asked. “Are we all so weak and frail that being alone means something terrible has happened?”

“No,” Stone said. “I don’t mean that.”

“He just means it’s unusual,” Lorik explained. “And right now, unusual could be dangerous.”

“I know that,” Vera said with a scowl.

“I don’t like it,” Stone said.

“Maybe you two should hang back a little,” Lorik said. “We’re still far enough away that it isn’t obvious we’re riding together. Just watch and see.”

“We should probably stay together,” Vera said.

“Sometimes caution is the wiser choice,” Lorik said. “It’s probably nothing, but if I need you, I’ll call. If all is well but you should follow from a distance, I’ll put my hands on my hips.” He demonstrated, putting his hands on his hips and pointing his elbows out away from his body. It was a common gesture but one that would be easily identifiable even from a distance. “If there is trouble you can ride to the rescue.”

“Don’t let your guard down,” Stone warned.

“I won’t,” Lorik replied. “I’ll see you both soon.”

Lorik rode ahead of his friends, trying to ignore the feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. He had thought at first that the rider was Issalyn. He hadn’t heard anything from his lover since she had set out for Ort City. He was hopeful that didn’t mean that she was through with him, but they had drifted apart. His reluctance to take the throne of Ortis galled her. He knew that, but he was finally coming around. He just hoped it wasn’t too late.

The rider finally came close enough that Lorik could see she was armed. She wore a cloak and hood, but was thin and had a short sword hanging across her left hip. The horse she rode was a big, strong looking animal, and she had supplies packed in large canvas bags that were hanging just behind her saddle. She reined in her horse and waited as Lorik approached.

“I’m Lorik,” he said, when he was close enough that he didn’t have to shout to be heard.

“Lorik of Hassell Point?” she asked.

“That’s right.”

“I am looking for a man named Lorik,” the woman said. “He knew a forest elf by name. One that was my mistress’s favorite.”

“And who is your mistress?” Lorik asked.

“If you are the man I seek then you know that already.”