From Darkness Won (62 page)

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Authors: Jill Williamson

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Religious, #Christian

BOOK: From Darkness Won
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“Sundergow seems to think Prince Oren stormed himself to escape the coming impact of the fire.”

Achan paced beside the table. “Stormed himself? Is that even possible?”

“It is, Your Highness. Prince Oren’s body is with Sundergow in the dungeon.”

Achan recalled finding Sparrow’s lifeless body in the Sitna keep. At least Prince Oren was trained in the Veil. Still, should Achan go looking for him? Could Duchess Amal? “What will we do?”

“Sir Gavin has called the generals. We are to go to the meeting tent right away.”

Achan bowed to Toros. “Forgive me, Toros. I must go.”

Toros returned the bow. “My prayers go with you, Highness.”

When Sir Caleb and Achan arrived in Sir Gavin’s tent, several conversations were taking place at once. Achan quickly
t
ook his seat and called for quiet. He asked Sir Gavin to share the details of the situation, which offered no more information than what Sir Caleb had already shared.

“I see we have but two options,” Sir Gavin said, referring to his massive leather map that again covered the table. “One, we go east and await Captain Chantry’s fleet from Tsaftown. We board the ships and attack Armonguard from the sea.”

“Are the ships close enough?” Captain Demry asked.

“Can they hold all our men?” Sir Eric asked.

Captain Demry’s muscular build and dark eyes were a stark contrast to Sir Eric’s wiry form and blue eyes. The two sat side by side.

“They can hold us all, but they’ve only passed Walden’s Watch,” Sir Gavin said.

“Then they’re still several days from us,” Captain Demry said.

“But it’ll take us several days to reach the coast.” Sir Gavin drew his finger along the path they might take. “We’d likely get there around the same time.”

Altair, the captain of the contingent from Zerah Rock, grunted. “‘Likely’ isn’t good enough when we’re trapped on all sides by the enemy.”

“I agree,” Captain Loam said.

“What’s your other option, Sir Gavin?” Sir Eric asked.

Sir Gavin ran his finger the opposite direction off the King’s Road. “We head west through the game trails, making our way to Edom Gate. What’s left of the Mârad army retreated there to wait for our instructions. They are five thousand strong. We’d have to leave the wagons behind, for the trail is narrow and quite steep once we reach the mountains. Captain Demry and most of the men—maybe two thirds—could set up camp
i
nside Edom Gate, while the rest of us travel another day to Noiz to plan our attack.”

“Couldn’t Esek’s men be trapping us in Noiz easier than they already have been doing here?” Inko asked. “There is only being one way coming in and going out of Noiz.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Sir Caleb said. “There’s only one road in and out of Noiz, but there are other ways to get there. Rivers. Mountain trails.”

“Now, wait,” Achan said. “They intend to fight us here? On the King’s Road? Why?”

Sir Gavin tapped the burned image of Castle Armonguard. “To keep us from reaching our goal. The more of us they kill before we reach Armonguard, the easier time Esek’s men will have defending her.”

“Yes,” Captain Loam said, “and then they get to dictate to us where the battle should be fought.”

“So we will not let them,” Achan said. “There are mountains and hills to the west. We have been in their shadow for days. In fact, isn’t Noiz high in the mountains? Edom Gate as well?”

His generals nodded.

“Why not fight them there?” Achan asked. “We have to fight them sometime. Why don’t we claim the high ground of our choosing and let them come if they dare? And if they don’t come, then we’ll go to them, still with the advantage of high ground. And with an extra five thousand men.”

“The prince speaks wisely,” Captain Loam said. “Armonguard is nearly impenetrable from the ground, what with the way it sits on Lake Arman like an island. It would be well to have this battle away from there, now that the enemy holds it. We should take out as many of the enemy as we can before attempting to breach the castle itself.”

“I disagree,” Altair said. “The longer we wait to attack, the more time Esek has to set up defense in Armonguard. We should attack now, before too much time passes and he becomes deeply entrenched.”

“If we attack now, we lose men before we even reach Armonguard,” Sir Eric said. “The ships will give us safety.”

“Why don’t we do both?” Altair said. “Esek traps us from north and south. So we do the same. Send some to the boats and some to Noiz.”

Sir Gavin shook his head. “It would be unwise to split our forces. United and in a strong position, we could repel any assault. But divided, both parts could be easily overwhelmed, and then we would have nothing.”

“Noiz is being the safest place for the prince,” Inko said.

“But Noiz is in Darkness,” Sir Eric said. “The ships will keep us in Light longer.”

“That won’t matter for long,” Sir Gavin said. “Darkness overtook Armonguard yesterday, so Sundergow said.”

The men reacted to this with stunned silence.

“Armonguard in Darkness?” Sir Eric said. “Have we lost already?”

Another silence.

Achan rubbed his eyes. Everything was drawing to a close, he could feel it. “Why does that matter?” Achan asked, fighting the fear he felt gripping all of them. “I’ve always known the last battle would be in Darkness. This is not a surprise.”

“Still,” Sir Caleb said, “if we risk everything now by marching quickly to Armonguard, we risk our chance of even getting you there—to do what you must do.”

“Which is what, by the way?” Achan felt every head turn toward him, but it was long past time to broach this subject. “I’ve been praying, but Arman has not answered.”

“You will face Lord Nathak,” Sir Gavin said. “Maybe Esek, as well. But I feel you must destroy the keliy.”

“How?”

Sir Gavin shook his head. “You and I will work that out before we send you in. For now I say we get you to Noiz, and work out our plan of attack once we get to safety.”

After the meeting, Achan returned to his tent to help Matthias pack. Matthias put all Achan’s clothing into saddlebags, and Cole carried them to Bart.

With so many people working together, camp was disassembled within minutes. The army rode west into the dark woods. Toward Darkness. The sun shone through cracks in the trees, and Achan savored every last glimpse of warmth. He suspected he would not see the sun again until this war was over.

Or until he entered Shamayim.

Arman, help us all find the way. Help me know what to do.
The procession upset a flock of sparrows. Achan watched them fly through the trees.
And help Sparrow to remember.

Thoughts of Sparrow suddenly consumed him, and his heart twisted into a knot. He wanted to speak to her, if only to know she was well. But he could not stomach her anger or disdain. What would she say if she saw him face to face? If she came to Armonguard, would she come to see him? She had better, or he would send for her.

He grinned. Sparrow would not like that at all.

 

 

 

30

 

Averella’s arms and legs ached from the awkward position of crawling up, up, up the steep tunnel. Every once in a while the tunnel leveled out enough for everyone to take a break—they slept twice in such places. Both times, as soon as they moved on, the tunnel grew steep again.

They all had taken a short spill at least once. Most skidded a few paces, clinging tightly to the rope. But Noam had slipped and nearly vanished. Jax had only just managed to catch the wisp of a man before he shot between Jax’s legs. If only Gren would stop retelling the tale of his near demise, Averella’s heartbeat might return to normal.

Water springs ran down the tunnel walls in numerous places, both hot and cool. Every time Peripaso passed a cool one, he pointed it out and told everyone to drink their fill.

Averella raised her foot to find the next foothold and pushed herself up. Her head slammed against something sharp overhead, blinding her with circles of white light. How had both Peripaso and Sir Eagan missed that one?

The rope tugged at her hand. Her father’s voice drifted down from above, echoing softly in the stone cavern. “Averella? Are you well?”

“I struck my head.” She twisted her neck and raised her voice. “There’s a sharp rock hanging down. Go carefully!”

Not long after Peripaso stopped for their third night, he lit a torch. The light illuminated a round cavern and the dirty faces of their party. A trail of blood trickled down Gren’s forehead from a scrape on the tunnel’s roof. Averella opened her satchel and did what she could to stop the bleeding. She had used most of her supplies on the injured in Mahanaim.

Peripaso rationed out another meal of dried reekat. The greasy meat took Averella back to the underground river outside Xulon where a reekat had overturned their boat. It had been one of the most terrifying ordeals of Averella’s life.

She gasped at the sudden memory. No wonder she had forgotten this past year. So much of it had been horrible!

Gren’s soft voice drew Averella’s attention. “Is it much farther?”

“We’ll reach the top tomorrow,” Peripaso said.

Gren sighed. “My legs will fall off before then.”

Peripaso chuckled as he bedded down in the dark cavern. “Never you fear, Madam. All this hard work will pay off. For what goes up must go down, and going down will be much faster, much more fun, and no work at all, I promise you.”

Averella wanted to believe him, but the aches in her body disagreed. She lay on the hard stone floor beside Gren.

“At least there are no beetles in this place,” Gren said. “I hate any kind of pest.”

Achan had once called Averella a pest. He had been teaching her to swordfight. He’d named her sword Firefox, she remembered now. Told her she was a hero with her bag of herbs.

Memories assaulted her then, all at once, glimpses of her forgotten days.

Achan wrestling her to the ground, calling her a weakling, teaching her to pin someone, to punch someone, to sweep out their leg. Achan knocking the breath from her time and again, forcing her face into a mound of snow.

And Mother claimed Averella loved this man? She fingered the ring around her neck and frowned. How could she have possibly endured being treated in such a way? And yet that leg sweep
had
proved useful only a few days ago.

More memories came.

Averella stealing Achan’s food, pouncing and knocking him off a bench, slapping honey bread against his face. Knocking him down with a leg sweep. Swimming underwater and yanking his ankles so that he fell in. And back on dry land, drawing her dripping sword and poking him in the stomach.

The memories gave way to dreams laced with fear. She woke twice from someone else’s screaming. Gren, both times. It seemed that Darkness haunted them, even in sleep.

The temperature in the tunnel dropped, and when Averella woke, the ground was frosty. Once they got moving again, the frost melted under their hands. But when they stopped for lunch, they were sitting on icy stone.

As Averella gnawed on her reekat meat, Peripaso approached. “We’ll reach the ice soon, Lady Vrell. You mind helpin’ me
w
rap ever’one’s hands? It’ll keep ’em warm, and from stickin’ to the ice.”

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