Siege of Night (16 page)

Suddenly white-hot pain went shot through the side of his head. He dropped to his knees as the whole room began to spin. He was just able to focus enough to see the fuzzy image before him vibrating in and out of itself. The girl with the bright green eyes hovered over him while gripping a short club with both hands. Dizzying darkness spun all around him.

He could hear her faint words as she kneeled down next to him and spoke softly into his ear. “I just realized, I never properly introduced myself...my name is Marlow.”

The growing blackness swallowed him.

* * *

Men and boys both young and old alike were lined up shoulder to shoulder along the dirt road; each squinting in rapid blinks as the fine, misty rain lightly drizzled down on them. The small village of Limpton was almost completely exclusive to farmers and shop owners. Many of the boys in line whimpered as their fathers held their shoulders tight, assuring them everything would be fine—the things a strong parent must say when faced with utter hopelessness.

They had been lined up for hours now as the dark-haired, hazel-eyed scout had been jotting down notes as he slowly wandered up and down the line, no doubt taking some sort of inventory of the fresh recruits now honorably drafted to fight for the Dronin army. He walked side by side with a short man with dark eyes wearing an oversized bear fur coat. He was translating for the scout as they made passes back and forth. What started as gibberish to the frightened men was echoed immediately into Common by the much higher voice.

“Your memories will live on in the eyes of your children and your children’s children,” the translator shouted as the scout continued muttering into the air while constantly pumping his fist up and down, clearly exited over his own words. “You should be thankful to be a part of the greatest campaign the lands of Tarmerria have ever known. The witch of Taron thinks to fool the world and trick her people into worshipping a false god. We will not allow this mockery of justice to go on any further. You would have died farmers and peasants with no value to anyone, but because of the generosity of Corzon Thenalra, you will all die heroes of war. Your names will echo in eternity!”

The people’s general reaction here in Limpton had been a bit different than that of Brankin and Kopler. For one, the resistance had been minimal, as opposed to Brankin, where the throats of four women had to be slit publicly just to regain authority over the rebelling community. They seemed to finally come to their senses after that.

Word must have spread quickly, though. By the time the scouts had arrived here, the men were all but packed and ready to go. It was clear that word of Dronin’s march had reached the village, and that resistance was futile. It seemed a bit of tough love combined with the understanding that the cause was just and righteous had prevailed.

The only other thing the Dronin scout found a bit unusual was how the wives of the men in the other two towns stayed by their husbands’ sides as long as they could. They’d been crying and wailing the whole time, of course, but savoring every precious second given. But here all the wives had all spoken briefly amongst themselves in a tight circle then disappeared into the little shacks meant to pass as homes, and hadn’t been seen since. The scout couldn’t complain, seeing as how it was much more quiet and peaceful this way.

The short man jabbed the scout in the ribs a couple of times, trying to get his attention directed toward the west. The man spun hard as a wicked smile split his face. What looked to be a coming dust storm was actually the massive Dronin army approaching from far off. The very ground began to vibrate as thousands of men, horses, and war machines began to take shape from within the living cloud of smoke.

“If you have any last words for your men, now would be the time,” the translator screeched at the numerous closed doors. One by one, wives with red faces and teary eyes emerged from their homes, homes that would never feel the same as their husbands and sons were taken away, to a war, a cause, that they knew almost nothing about. They ran into the arms of their men, soon to be swept from their lives, and held their sons in quivering arms, telling them everything would be all right.

A plump, red-haired woman in a plain blue dress and white, stained apron held her husband tight, twisting him back and forth as they stood in place. She never wanted to let go, but knew she must. Then, reaching deep into his tan leather coat, she planted what she had been holding secretly the entire time. Many of the other wives mirrored her movements, looking to be sure the scout was paying them no attention.

She looked into his large dark eyes as the man used all his strength not to cry in front of his beloved wife. “You come back to me...or I swear I’ll walk straight to hell searching for you!”

Chapter 11

Jacob gasped as the shocking, bitter cold took hold of him. His eyes shot wide open as he tried to leap to his feet on reflex alone. However, tight orange ropes around his chest and feet prevented the action, and leaning his head forward was all that his attempted lunge accomplished. He gave his head a rapid shake as droplets of cold water flew left and right, quickly turning to mist.

The green-eyed girl smiled at him while still holding the bucket, then threw it to the side, making a loud clatter against the tiled wall. Jacob could see he was still in the bar, although now tied to a wooden chair. The room, as best he could tell with the limited movement of his head, was empty of people except for this girl and himself.

“I see you’re finally awake,” she said, still grinning at him with her hands now placed firmly on her hips and her head tilted in a playful, taunting fashion.

“Someone threw cold water on me,” he replied dryly while raising an eyebrow. For a brief moment he had wondered if her apparent lisp was just a ruse to give the illusion she was completely harmless. But no, it was still there and as exaggerated as ever. “So, how long do you plan to keep me tied up?”

“Well, that depends on you,” she said as she brought her face within an inch of his. “You know, being tied to a chair might just be the least of your worries.” She backed away and stood tall, with her hands clasped behind her back. “Now then. As I recall, you were intent on trying to recruit me and my men for a war that has nothing to do with us
before
you went insane.” She leaned in with her lips sarcastically puckered. “Does that sound about right?”

“Oh, that’s very funny,” he growled as burning anger flashed within his light blue eyes. “But you appear to be misinformed about one thing.” She folded her arms across her chest and at least appeared to be listening. “It most certainly
does
affect you even if you believe the Gate Keeper is nothing more than a myth; even if you don’t believe he is the only one who can stop the evil that patiently waits in darkness as we speak, evil which waits for a time when brothers are killing brothers and humanity is at its very weakest.”

“I most certainly do not!” she growled.

“Nor would I!” he snapped while lunging as close to her as the ropes would allow. “Nor would I,” he repeated in a whisper. “If I hadn’t seen the things I’ve seen, if I had not been at the very center of all of this. No one would have ever been able to convince me that this nightmare is real.”

“So you are saying I should just believe you?”

“No!” he said as the chair rattled around with his struggling. “Give me an hour or a month. It would make no difference. I am fully aware of how insane all this sounds. I could never convince you to fight for our cause.”

“Then why are you here?” she screeched, a finger pointed threateningly at his forehead.

He flashed a mischievous smile that touched his eyes. “To give you the opportunity to fight...for
your
cause.” The words hung in the air for a moment as she stared at him attentively. “I’m sure we can agree that if you don’t help, Taron may fall.”

“It may fall regardless of our help,” she shrugged.

“True enough,” he admitted. “Let’s suppose that unfortunate fate befalls Taron. What do you think will happen to your little town, which only exists at all because of coin spent by travelers coming and going from the city?”

Her eyes grew wide as the reality of that sunk in. “We would gather coin some other way,” she stated firmly, trying to make up for the temporary loss of composure.

Jacob laughed hard as he threw his head back. “Do you think to work in the fields? Farming suits you, does it not? Maybe take up a trade... Tell me, woman, do you cook?”

“Enough!” she screamed as her hard fist smashed into the tied man’s face. She kept his gaze as he slowly turned back toward her. An amused smile reformed even as the warm trickle of blood flowed from the corner of his mouth.

“Oh, my sweet Marlow,” Jacob whispered mockingly. “Never fear, it would never come to that. You see, Corper is a mere stone’s throw from Taron. When the Dronin army is finished with Taron, they will purge a hundred-mile radius around the city to make sure none that could ever hold a sword will survive. The memory of what happened that day will be lost forever.”

Marlow grew quiet as the dark yet undeniable logic of his words earned no reasonable reply. She couldn’t even meet Jacob’s eyes.

He leaned up as far as he could, his voice no more than a whisper. “You won’t be farming, cooking, sewing, or anything of that nature.
You
...will be dead.”

* * *

The moment Jade and Eric entered the gates of Taron they were immediately escorted to the palace by a waiting entourage of armed soldiers. Once they were informed of the Queen’s whereabouts they headed straight for the throne room. This would be the first time they had seen Ilirra since heading out for the Dead Forest. Emotions swirled in each of them when they first laid eyes on her, pacing back and forth with the looks of someone who was clearly burdened with the weight of the world.

“My Queen,” called Eric as they entered the room. She turned suddenly with surprise and shock as her green eyes seemed to double in size. With pools of wetness forming quickly, she took one step, then two, as if afraid the arrivals would disappear if she truly committed to the dream—the dream that they were really standing there. Her timid commitment made no difference, as Jade was off and running in the blink of an eye.

For one fleeting moment nothing else in the world mattered as the two embraced. The very person Ilirra loved most in this world was now wrapped in her arms—the very person who had no idea of the secrets behind their unbreakable bond; the very person Ilirra would kill a thousand men with her bare hands just to keep safe. Right now, impending war, the safety of the Gate Keeper—all the things of utmost importance—meant nothing to Ilirra. She
would
allow herself this one greedy moment. The world could wait while she embraced her daughter.

Minutes felt like mere seconds as Eric smiled and waltzed around the room, stretching his arms up in the air as he patiently allowed them their moment. Even with everything that was happening, a lingering feeling of peace really made it apparent they had come home.

The sudden sound of a subtle cough made Eric turn his head suddenly. He inhaled a sharp breath as chills shot through him. “It’s about time you guys showed up,” said Morcel as he leaned against the doorway. Jade suddenly broke the embrace and gasped as she covered her mouth with both hands, but Ilirra simply clapped her hands twice in quick succession as she took two steps toward the beast. “I told you to stay in bed!” she said sharply, as if scolding a child.

Morcel slouched over as his eyes met the floor, truly looking ashamed.

* * *

Everyone sat in the war room except Morcel, who had all but been thrown back in bed by Ilirra. It was just as well, seeing how getting jumped on and hugged by Eric and Jade repeatedly did little to help his many wounds. They sent Addel to accompany him. She claimed to be quite skilled in magical healing. If there were ever a time to prove such a claim...

Berkeni had brought his clear pearl to the room with him and stooped over it while some watched. He mumbled a few incoherent words while wiggling his fingers in the air. Azek stood by the window, fingering his sword’s handle as he did so often when he thought danger might be near. Jade and Ilirra pulled two chairs off into a private corner and tried to use the few precious minutes to catch up as best they could.

Berkeni gazed for a long while as the milky smoke rolled within the pearl, like white clouds drifting over a mountain. Of course, that’s all anybody else could see as well. Only the person doing the scrying could actually see the images forming. To anyone else, the scene just appeared to be rolling fog. Then, suddenly, he slammed his hands down on the table and gazed up at the ceiling with a distant look.

The others took the hint to come over and receive the latest report. Ilirra gave Jade’s knee a firm squeeze before sliding her chair back to the table. Berkeni cleared his throat as his eyes scanned around the room. With a dejected look, he said, “The Dronin army is one day’s march away. If there are any final preparations that need doing, now is the time.”

Azek stepped forward and gently placed his open palms on the table. “My men are as prepared as possible. The catapults are in place. The fletchers have been working day and night to supply us with as many arrows as possible.” He lowered his head a bit. “There is nothing more I can do.”