Obsidian (18 page)

The grueling days passed and Gair knew the army must be drawing close to the city. One foggy morning, that knowledge was pressing upon him. The munkke-trophe, too, seemed depressed while Verial stared moodily ahead. About mid-day, they were all surprised to hear a rustle behind a hedgeline that followed the road. Gair help up his hand for them to stop, gesturing for Verial to hide on the other side of the road. Then, with the voyoté growling behind them, he dismounted, drew his sword, and motioned for Ragger to approach the hedge with him.

What they beheld was nothing more frightful than a girl of about fifteen cycles and a boy of about twelve. They looked rough, as if they had spent their entire lives behind the hedge. The girl spoke first.

“Sir, don’t hurt us. We haven’t been involved in anything. We don’t want any trouble.”

The boy appeared both terrified and grumpy. He looked annoyed with the girl for having spoken, although he did not offer up any words himself.

Gair hastened to sheathe his sword. “Get up, if you can. Have you seen an army pass this way?”

The girl looked around at the rubble. “Yes, sir, we saw it. A few days ago. We’ve been running like scared coneys ever since. Several of the towns are deserted, and those people who were left wouldn’t take us in. I don’t know if they thought we’d escaped from it, or what. You’re the first person to talk to us and offer us food.”

Gair raised his eyebrows at this conclusion. The children did look hungry. He waved Verial over and ordered Ragger to get some rations out of the packs. As the two made short work of the fare, he asked them where they had come from.

“I’m Teehma,” the girl volunteered. “We are traveling to, ah, search for some sort of work. Lucio here,” she waved at the boy, who continued to glower, “said we could find work in the farm fields. But it looks like nobody’s interested in farming these days. What
was
that, anyway?”

Gair did not relish telling them the news, but he had no choice. They would find out soon enough, if Obsidian had its way. “The army you saw was not made of regular men. It consists of, er, individuals released from the Chasm. Rhyvelad is going through a prophetic time and there’s about to be a nasty battle, probably around Lascombe.”

“Lascombe?” the two cried in unison.

“Do you really think,” the boy said, “that it will attack Lascombe?”

Gair nodded. “I’m sure of it. We’re hurrying back there now to help.” He stood and pulled on his riding gloves. “I suggest that you two keep traveling east. Find somebody from a village off the road who will take you in. And don’t bother traveling to Ulan. The army’s already been there.”

The boy and girl looked at each in silent communication for a moment, then the boy crossed his arms. “We’re going with you.”

Verial, who had watched the exchange with disdain, could not hold back a bark of laughter. “Ha! Why would we want two scavengers to come with us? You’d just slow us down.”

Gair flinched at her condescension, but he had to agree. “I’m sorry, but you can’t come with us. We shouldn’t even be stopping as it is. Keep all the food I gave you and be on your way. But please, follow my advice and save yourselves for as long as you can.”

Without another word, the party mounted and rode off, leaving Lucio and Teehma alone again.

“That settles it.” Lucio said. “We have to go back.”

“Don’t you think Tertio will protect them?”

“Did he look like a fighter to you? Ester has more of a backbone than he has.”

Teehma did not argue. She, too, knew her place was between Trint and Ester and that horrible army. But she did not relish the walk back. The soldiers’ rations would last them a while, but it would be a long, hurried journey. Already her feet were sore and bleeding.

“All right. But before we go, let’s gather up some of these scraps. My feet are going to fall off if they don’t get some help.”

He helped her get together a small bag of material. Then he picked up a pole-ax, the pole of which was broken about midway down, making it almost his size. Teehma dug up the shattered lower half of a sword. Its splintered end looked sharp enough to run anybody through at least once.

“Do you have any idea how to use one of these?” she asked.

“Not one of those,” Lucio responded, hefting his own weapon. “But I imagine you use one of these just like you’re cuttin’ down a tree. This time, though, the tree might cut back.”

She did not smile at his joke. “We’ll just have to do the best we can.”

“What do you know about the Chasm?” Lucio asked as they started back the way they had come.

“Not much. Before we saw those things, I would have said it didn’t exist. My mom believed in it and in Kynell and Zyreio and all that stuff. Father said she was being a silly woman. I always thought he was right.”

“What did your mom say about it?”

Teehma fingered the hilt of her broken sword. It was made of dark metal, with some sort of coarse black cloth wrapped around it. She wondered what sort of hand had held it last. “She said that’s where people went who had turned their backs on Kynell. People who thought they didn’t need him or didn’t believe he existed. People like me. . .and my father.” She paused. Had her father been a part of that mob?

“You don’t believe in Kynell?”

“Why should I?”

“That great big nasty army might be one reason.”

“That just proves the Chasm exists, not that Kynell does. Do
you
believe he exists?”

Lucio nodded. “When my father was thrashing my mom and she was thrashing me, I never knew why they were doing it. But I knew it wasn’t right. An’ sometimes I’d feel protected, somehow, even though she was beating the life right out of me. Or at least I knew something was there with me, making the blows sting a little less. I always figured that was Kynell.”

Teehma looked at him with interest. He had never talked so much about his parents as he had in the past few days. She thought that she’d been through a lot, but when she heard Lucio’s stories, she had to be grateful that her parents had kept their abuse to mere words. Not that verbal poundings were much fun, she reminded herself.

“Well,” Lucio continued, brightening a little. “Looks like you might have to start believing in Kynell soon enough. If those soldiers were from the Chasm, it’s gonna take something from the Prysm to stop them.”

__________

Sedgar, Reyn, and Merto were in sight of Lascombe. They had ridden hard, but if it hadn’t been for the Easterners stopping to build siege engines, the army would only have been a few hours behind them. As it was, Merto figured they were about a day and half ahead.

To their relief, they rode toward a city already preparing for battle. The residences outside the walls were evacuated, and a high, slick barrier was being erected less than a quarter of a league out from the permanent fortifications. Behind this new defense a deep trench was being dug, filled with sharpened timbers. The ground in between the temporary wall, which terminated at the tree line on either side, was filled with hunting traps of all shapes and sizes, some just large enough to trap a coney, others made from whole logs, strong enough to trap a dragon. All around the traps, the men knew from experience, were buried large, thin, empty clay jars, positioned on their sides. The turf had been dug up, then carefully replaced over the jars. Any man—or better, the wheel of any siege engine—putting his weight on those areas would crash through the thin layer of soil and clay and become immobilized for a time. Finally, large groups of sweaty, tired men were pouring tar in copious amounts over the city’s once brilliant white walls. Casing tar, made from a type of tree found throughout Keroul, dried very smooth—so smooth that it would not afford man, beast, or even grappling hook a sure hold. All in all, it looked to the newcomers as if these were measures meant to immobilize an army, rather than eliminate it.

The preparations were far from complete, and it appeared that only men were working on them. As they rode up to the gate, shouted their names and were let in, they could see why. The women, children, and elderly stood in long lines throughout the streets. Where the lines were going, the evacuees themselves did not know. Even Merto, with his sharp eyes, couldn’t tell. But the lines moved forward nevertheless, sometimes crossing each other, sometimes going opposite directions, but always moving. Intriguing though it was, the men did not have time to stop and figure it out.

Marching up to the palace’s main entrance, Reyn announced that they were scouts sent from Captain Gair. The guard on duty hastily allowed them in, led them to a sergeant, who turned them over to a lieutenant, who directed them to a captain, who placed them in front of General Chiyo.

Chiyo was encouraged to see them. “Welcome back. Have a seat. You must be exhausted. Captain,” he gestured at the man who had brought them in. “Send a man to kitchens. Tell them to have some hot lunch ready for these three.” The man saluted smartly and hurried down the hall.

“Now tell me your news.”

Reyn, as senior officer, began. “Sir, Obsidian’s army has destroyed Windrell. Captain Gair and another officer stayed behind to search out survivors; the Captain sent us in advance to try and stay ahead of the force. As of yesterday, the army was camped about two days out. They had just started constructing siege engines. I would expect them by tomorrow afternoon at the earliest, provided that they, Chasmites though they are, take the proper time to prepare their equipment.”

“And the nature of this force?” Reyn and his associates were the first people Chiyo had talked to who had actually seen the enemy. Telenar had tried to prepare them all as best he could, but even his knowledge was limited.

Reyn shifted in his chair, trying to find the right words. “They’re not like anything I’ve ever seen. They don’t sleep, don’t eat, don’t do any other natural things. They behave in a very agitated manner, as if their skin is constantly irritated. They fight among themselves, but the blows they give to one another do no damage. Actually,” he paused to consider, “this inability to hurt each other seems to aggravate them even more. Most of them carry weapons, of course—though they look like standard fare, we were not able to get close enough to inspect them.”

“And their leader? Who commands the armies?”

“There doesn’t seem to be a commander, sir. At least, not that we saw. Some of them were riding voyoté, some of them were walking, but none of them stuck out as someone in charge. You’d think a wild army like that would disperse, but
someone’s
telling them where they should be going. Just can’t see who.”

“Numbers? What size of force are we dealing with?”

Reyn glanced at Merto, who had a good eye for counting. Merto responded, “It’s impossible to tell, sir. It was big. It could outnumber the population of Lascombe twice over, at minimum. Plus, they were hard to pin down, being so agitated; no one moved in ranks or regiments. They look more like one big mob rather than an army.”

“No sign of Farlone?” Chiyo had been apprised of the initial reason for their mission, but he asked the question out of protocol. After a report like that, there could be no real hope.

Merto shook his head sadly. He had always had a great deal of respect for Keroul’s fighting prince. “No sir. If anybody survived that attack on Windrell, it would be a miracle.”

Chiyo bowed his head for a moment, then rose, obliging them to do the same. “Thank you, men, for your service. Follow my aide down the hall where they will take down your report. Then get some rest. I don’t want to see you out and about until tomorrow morning. Understood?”

All three expressed polite agreement and shuffled down the hall, eager for a warm meal and a soft bed. Chiyo, meanwhile, fell back into his seat with a groan. Tomorrow afternoon? He had to find Telenar and Vancien; he had no confidence that his man-made defenses would hold off the fiends for longer than a few hours. By tomorrow night, Lascombe would be overrun.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Trint and Ester were just beginning to settle down with their new family when the call for evacuation went out. Two mornings after Teehma and Lucio’s night-time visit, they were awakened with a start. Tertio had been called upon to help with the city’s defenses, leaving them with a scared but resolute Alisha. This was certainly not the arrangement they would have chosen. In the days since their arrival, Tertio had been the one to play games with them, read to them, and tuck them into bed. All Alisha had done was speak to them occasionally and fix their meals. Ester figured that her cold behavior was because she still missed her other child, the one who had died, though the woman never said anything about it. Indeed, she rarely spoke about that other child at all, even to her husband.

“Hurry up, children, and make a pack of clothes for yourself. Ester, make sure Trint gets at least three outfits into a bag, including one for cool weather. Then both of you come help me in the kitchen.”

Too bewildered to ask questions, they obeyed. When they returned to the kitchen, they found her packing dried and canned goods into a small cart. Without further words of explanation, she ordered Ester to fetch some water and Trint to pack some bedding. By the time Ester returned, the little cart was almost full. After putting the water into canteens, jars, or whatever else she was able to find, Alisha pronounced them ready to go. Together, the three of them trundled out into the chaotic streets as the orbs began to rise.