The Book of Deacon: Book 02 - The Great Convergence (33 page)

"What does it matter? It is what you wanted,"
he said.

"Why have you come to me?" she asked.

"I know you. I know that you are devoted to
this cause. I know that you have talents that will be
indispensable," he said.

"Won't Desmeres be of more help than I?" she
asked.

"He is not foolish enough to involve
himself," he said.

"You called this suicide. Do you believe
that?" Myranda asked.

"We are too few and too weak to bring this
war safely to an end. Powerful men wish for it to continue. The war
is what gives them their power. They would sooner see their own
children die than give up that power. Reaching them will be
difficult, killing them more so. The consequences will be
inescapable. This
will
lead to our deaths. There can be no
doubt. But it must be done," he said.

"You are talking about the five Generals. You
plan to end the war by killing the leadership of the Alliance
Army," Myranda said. His words did little to help her confidence,
save one. He had said 'we'. From this point forward, they were in
this together.

"It is the only way," he said.

"The army will crumble. The south will
overrun the north," she said.

He was silent.

"Do you even care?" she asked.

"The south has no interest in the
continuation of the war. They are a stronger, more able force. They
have little to gain from this wasteland. They only wish to retain
that which belongs to them. The day the soldiers on the north side
of the border drop their weapons, those in the south will do the
same," he said.

"So . . . the deaths of these five men will
bring this war to an end for certain," she said.

"It is by no means certain, but it is as
likely a method as any," he said.

"Won't others arise to take their place?"
Myranda asked.

"If more must be done, more shall be done,"
he stated.

Myn suddenly decided that she had been lax in
her duties and streaked off to fetch a meal for her long absent
friend. Lain stood and turned to the sleeping form on the sled.

"Her name is Ivy," Myranda said.

He placed a hand on her head.

"I need to warn you. She isn't . . . she must
have been in their clutches for a long time. Whatever they did . .
. she isn't well," Myranda said, finding herself in the unique
position of protecting Lain's feelings.

"What is wrong with her?" Lain asked.

"She can't remember anything. What happened
to her, even who she is. She is like a child," Myranda said.

"It is just as well. What happens at the
hands of the D'karon is best forgotten," he said.

"I don't think I will ever forget," Myranda
said, shivering. "Epidime was the one who tortured me. He was among
those that Ivy had to endure as well."

Lain shook his head.

"I faced Demont . . . playing against our
strengths," he muttered.

"What?" Myranda asked.

"Epidime specializes in the mind, Demont the
body. Had our captors been switched, we each might have been
broken. They are testing our strongest qualities," he said.

"The General called Teht. Did she have a
specialty?" Myranda asked.

"She deals with wizards," Lain said.

"We found her dead in the ruined fort,"
Myranda said.

"Then our task is made somewhat simpler," he
said. After a moment more of contemplation, he came to a swift
decision. "We must leave."

The suddenness of the comment and the
conviction in his voice took Myranda by surprise.

"Leave? Now?" she questioned.

"There are a few more hours of darkness. We
will need them. The longer that we delay, the more likely our
discovery," he said.

"But where are we going to go?" Myranda
asked, gathering together her things.

"Tressor. There are a number of people there
who have yet to settle their debts. They shall be made to protect
her," he said.

"But, the prophesy says . . . " Myranda
objected.

"I do not care about the prophesy," he
said.

"Surely even you cannot deny the truth now,"
she said.

"I deny nothing. I intend to keep this
creature from the fate that I have chosen for myself," he said.

"But if you hope to succeed you will need her
help!" she cried.

"Myranda, it is a war. We face an army at
best, a pair of them at worst. There are only two ways to face a
force of such size. The first is to meet it with equal strength or
greater. One hundred and fifty years of failure is all that can be
shown for that. What remains is our only viable option. To strike
with a small enough force to avoid notice, and to strike at the
very highest level. Cut off the head. If the king were truly the
seat of power then the deed would already be done, but our targets
are more numerous, and far too canny to allow themselves to be
taken in a single blow. They will need to be taken one at a time,
but in swift succession. I will require your aid to recover quickly
enough from the injuries I am certain to endure. It is for this
reason alone that doubling the size of the force should even be
considered. Even allowing Myn to remain with us is a risk I
hesitate to take. To imagine that a force of five, even five that
match my skill, can slip through as easily as one is foolish. To
suggest that a force which includes one such as the shape shifter
could do so is madness," he said.

Without another word he wrapped the makeshift
blankets more tightly about the unconscious creature and threw her
across his shoulders. It was futile to argue any longer. His mind
was set. Myranda gathered the bow, arrows, and rope from the sled
and quickly followed Lain. Even with Ivy to carry he set a pace
that was difficult to match. They had been back in the cold of
night for several minutes when Myn came trotting up with her gift
for Lain. When he showed no interest she carried it faithfully
behind him. Lain seemed tireless as the sun struggled to turn the
black clouds of night into the gray clouds of day. All the while he
seemed more cautious than usual, sniffing the air and casting
nervous glances to the southwest. The short day had passed without
a single word from any of the travelers. Night was well and truly
upon them again before the silence was broken.

Lain's previous departure had been a sudden
one, and had left Myranda with a mind full of questions. The
intervening time had done little to dull the edge of her
uncertainties. The silence, and having Lain so tantalizingly near,
had stirred the thoughts to mind with renewed intensity.

"Lain, earlier you spoke of Demont. You said
you faced him. When?" she asked.

"When you were in Ravenwood with the white
wizard," he answered.

"What happened?" she asked.

"The Elites were after you, and you were in
Wolloff's tower. I knew it was only a matter of time before they
found you. I, too, was a target. To keep them from you, I allowed
myself to be taken," he answered.

"And they took you to Demont?" she asked.

"To be tested, though any other man but
Demont would have called it torture. He wanted to break me, to know
my limit, but in time he lost interest and moved on, taking only
the blood he had collected from me. I was left chained to a bed of
spikes, dangling over a pit of flames. I was alone. I managed to
wrap a chain around one of the spikes and levered it free. By the
time the guards had noticed, I'd managed to free myself and escape.
The Elites were dispatched to find me. You found me after I'd
finished them," he explained.

"That . . . that's horrible," she
uttered.

For a time she contemplated the ordeal he
must have endured, but soon another question forced the thoughts
aside.

"Lain. Desmeres . . . He told you about the
book," Myranda assumed.

"The one you stole from me. He did," came the
reply.

"I found the page . . . the entry with Sam
Rinthorne. The one from the day of the massacre. There was one
beneath it. I couldn't read it . . . but it was in Kenvard," she
said.

Lain was silent.

"Lain . . . after the massacre, Kenvard was
gone. How could . . . " she began.

Her voice was being choked off by a knot
forming in her throat. Her vision was blurred by tears.

"It happened during the massacre," he
said.

"What . . . who?" Myranda managed to ask.

"Rinthorne had hired me to find and seal the
leak. Shortly after I recovered the intelligence, I was found. One
of the Elites. They had been searching for me for years by that
time. The man who found me. He was your father," Lain said.

The words shot like a bolt of lightning
through Myranda's mind.

"He captured me. Before bringing me in, he
found the intelligence. He read it. He seemed to think that
something was wrong with it. A bargain was made. I was to be
released, and he would destroy any information they had accumulated
about me. In exchange, I was to go to Kenvard and save his family
from the coming siege. When I reached the city walls, the gates had
already been breached. The building he had told me to search was
empty. In the chaos I managed to locate two blood relatives by
scent. You and your uncle. I cleared an exit, your uncle found it.
Despite the fact I could not save the others, your father kept his
word. Overnight the hunt for me came to a halt, the trail rendered
cold. I learned shortly after that his treachery was discovered. He
was put in the dungeon in Northern Capital," Lain said.

Myranda was silent. She felt numb, and not
because of the cold. The cold, the night, the world, they were all
a thousand miles away. Her mind was burning his words. Lain, all
those years ago, had spoken to her father. It was his doing that
she had survived that horrible day, and if only her mother had
stayed in her home, she too would be alive. And her father . . .
the dungeon. She had heard tales of it. Everyone had. It was
legendary. Buried beneath the capital, it extended downward and
outward like a system of mines. The worst of criminals were kept
there. A man inside was as good as in his grave. He would never see
the sun again. Prisoners there were forgotten, erased from the
world. All of these years Myranda had feared that her father had
been killed in battle. Now she wished he had. He couldn't have
survived this long in such a place. Starvation, disease, torture .
. . . He had come to a terrible end there. It was foolishness to
think otherwise. He was dead now, perhaps after years alone in that
wretched hole in the ground.

The girl's tortured mind was still struggling
with this terrible revelation when Lain stopped and set down his
load. There was no shelter to speak of, and the winds at the foot
of the mountainside were constant. The icy fingers of night were
the first things to break through the veil of agony her mind had
erected. Surely he didn't mean to rest now. They would be in plain
sight of anyone who might pass by.

"You don't intend for us to spend the night
here, do you?" Myranda asked.

"I felt her stir. Ivy is waking," he
said.

It was true. The creature was moving her head
and groaning. She tried to sit up, and succeeded with the help of
Lain. Her eyes slowly opened. She sniffed and threw her mouth wide
in a long, deep yawn. She saw Myranda before her and smiled
sleepily. Then she turned to see Lain. His hand was on her
shoulder. She pulled back slightly, the hint of fear in her eyes.
She sniffed and seemed to calm slightly, the fear turning to
confusion or even recognition.

"Myranda . . . w-who is this?" Ivy asked.

"This is Lain. He is a friend," She said.

"Lain . . . I know that name too," she said,
looking nervously at Lain. "They said it a lot. He is a
friend?"

She mustered a meek smile again. Suddenly it
dropped away.

"A friend like Ether?" she asked
suspiciously.

"No, better than Ether," Myranda said with a
smile.

Lain cast a questioning look at Myranda.

"Ether is the name I've given to the shape
shifter," Myranda explained.

"Then the shape shifter managed to find you,"
Lain said.

"I'm hungry," Ivy interrupted.

Lain looked to Myn. She was still holding a
now partially frozen prize from her earlier hunt. She proudly
presented it to him. It was a rather meager offering, hardly enough
for one. The two creatures exchanged glances and, without a word,
rushed off into the night.

"Where are they going?" she asked.

"I imagine they are going to hunt down a
fresher meal," Myranda said.

"You aren't going to go with them, are you?"
Ivy asked, looking nervously into the blackness that surrounded
them.

"I don't think I would be of much help. Ivy,
tell me. What do you remember about our encounter outside the
fort," Myranda asked.

Ivy shuddered.

"I remember I was scared. Myn was scared too.
Then I heard you scream. I couldn't hold onto her, she ran out
after you. I didn't want to, but, I knew he would kill you. I tried
to help, but he got me and . . . then light . . . then dark," she
said.

She shut her eyes tight. It was as though it
hurt her to remember.

"You were hurt then. I saw the blood . . .
why aren't you hurt now?" she asked.

"I am something of a healer," Myranda
said.

"Healer . . . but . . . how long have I been
asleep?" she asked, looking up to Myranda.

"A bit under two days," Myranda said.

"How could you heal so quickly?" she
asked.

"A spell," she said.

"You mean . . . magic. I thought magic only
made things worse. All they ever tried to teach me was how to hurt
things," she said.

"They tried to teach you magic?" Myranda
asked.

"A little. Near the beginning. I was no good
at it. I'm no good at anything, but I was so bad they stopped
trying to teach me. They started using it on me," she said.