The Dark Glory War (12 page)

Within two days of our return to Valsina it was decided that someone had to bring news of what had happened to the Oriosan court. Normally that would have meant a sixty-league journey to the capital, Meredo. At an easy pace of five leagues a day, it would take us twelve days, or just over a week. Unfortunately for us, the queen would have already set out for the Alcidan capital of Yslin, to meet with the other rulers for the Harvest Festival—an international festival held every four years at a different site.

The news we had to convey—that an unusual group of Aurolani creatures had been found in Oriosa—was deemed momentous by the Lord Mayor and the other local nobles, so an embassy was to be dispatched to the queen, to inform her and her fellow royals about this threat. Lord Norrington was tasked with putting the group together and he selected Nay, Leigh, and me to be part of it.

While I was honored beyond words to be included, I didn’t think it was right and was determined to refuse. I reasoned that I had no place going and speaking with royalty of any stripe. Moreover, my Moon Month had barely begun, and there was a harvest to be brought in, and I wasn’t at all comfortable with leaving Valsina when more foul creatures might be lurking about.

My father listened to my protests silently, then shook his head. “You have no choice in this matter, Tarrant. Lord Kenwick Norrington is my liege lord. We are his to do with as he wishes. While I would be most pleased to accompany you all, I am Valsina’s Peaceward. My place is here, preparing the city for the worst your discovery augers. Your place is with him, on the road, going to Yslin.”

“But my Moon Month—”

“Ah, there we have the crux of it, yes?” My father chuckled. “All the galas, all of your being lionized for what you have done. The feasts you’ll miss. The trysts. Hardly seems fair, does it?”

I glanced down at the floorboards. “Well, no.”

“Life isn’t about fair.” My father’s voice took on a stern edge. “What happened to Rounce isn’t fair. Sure as there are ten days in a week, he’ll live with the consequences of it, no reprieve because of a Moon Month. You’ll be doing the same thing. Life’s intruding on your fun. Were it up to me, I might wish it different, but it isn’t and I don’t.

“You have a duty, Tarrant, to Lord Norrington, the people of Valsina and of Oriosa. And a duty to yourself. If you were to stay here, you’d not have a chance to see how far you could go-”

I frowned. “You’re staying here.”

“But I didn’t always stay here. I’m on the backslope of the mountain of my life, you’re just in the foothills. You’ve got to make the climb.”

I accepted what he told me and realized that I was being selfish and a little scared. The Moon Month was supposed to be a transition period, and I was feeling a bit cheated out of not getting at least a month. But my father’s comment about Rounce brought home just how petty that idea was.

Our expedition shaped up quickly. Lord Norrington picked Heslin and two of his apprentices to travel with us, in addition to four huntsmen and ten soldiers. We each brought with us three horses, basic necessities such as blankets, wet weather gear, armor and weapons, as well as food for all of us and grain for the horses. Rounce’s father saw to the provisioning and even bartered some of his goods with an armorer so that Nay and I could get our basic needs met. He said he would accept no payment from us, but Nay and I both gave him our moongold, seeing as how it would do us no good on the road.

In terms of armor and weaponry, I ran toward things that would allow me to preserve my speed and maneuverability. I accepted a long mail surcoat and coif, with an open helm to go over my head, then gauntlets, bracers, and greaves. I chose a padded leather gambeson and trousers to wear beneath, and for everyday protection. I included a horsebow and three sheaves of thirty arrows each, a sword, a small ax, and two daggers as my personal armament. The sword was a yard and some long, with thirty inches of double-edged steel for a blade. A simple crosshilt protected my hands and the hilt was long enough for me to use two hands on it if needed.

Leigh and Nay equipped themselves the same as I did, though Nay opted away from a sword. Instead he chose a hideous-looking maul a good four feet long, with half a foot of triangular steel spike on top of that. The maul’s top eight inches had been wrapped with steel, about doubling the stout oaken haft’s diameter, and four narrow strips of steel ran the haft’s length to turn swords and axes looking to chop into it. The maul weighed at least twice what my sword did, though Nay twirled it around as if it were a willow wand.

Taking leave of my parents was not easy, and I was pleased I did so at home and not in front of my traveling companions. My father, mother, and I ate breakfast barefaced that morning. My mother made certain I had plenty to eat and constantly reminded me about what to do if I found myself chafed, sunburned, with a variety of rashes, bumps, bruises, or even the occasional cut. She also extracted from me promises to mend my clothes quickly, so I’d be seen as more than a beggar, and to send word back to her as I could about how I was faring.

My father filled me in on things he knew about various members of the expedition and told me to learn as much as I could from Lord Norrington. He also demanded that I take care of my horses before I cared for myself and to be diligent in my duties around the camp. He told me that no one ever complained if water buckets were filled fast, or if more firewood was gathered than ever would be used. He also warned against complaining about the food, no matter how vile, and suggested a dozen different ways to stay awake when on a watch in the deepest night.

And he admonished me against cruel gossip and told me to watch over Leigh as if he were my brother. I knew the two things were linked, since unkind folks had whispered that Leigh was small and given to frippery because his parents were first cousins. Such things being said had always angered my father and I knew they stung Leigh, so I’d always refrained from any mention of that and had truly treated him like a brother.

Now that I was going away from home, I felt as if this last bit of advice was my father passing on to me part of the duty he felt to the Norrington household. With a solemn nod I let him know I’d shoulder that burden gladly. He smiled and nothing more was said.

I kissed both of them good-bye and brushed my mother’s tears away before donning my moonmask. My last vision of them, before the mask-curtain slid down to hide them, was of them holding each other, wearing brave smiles, waving at me. I gave them a salute, then opened the door and let the sound of the latch opening and closing behind me hide my mother’s gentle sobbing.

We met at Valsina’s South Gate and immediately set off. We would skirt the Bokagul, less out of any fear of dealing with the urZrethi than just wanting to avoid the trouble of riding through the mountains. Men and urZrethi had fought a terrible war centuries past, and although a peace did exist between us, both sides largely kept to themselves. Despite living in the shadow of the Bokagul Mountains my whole life, I’d never seen an urZrethi, and only heard my father speak of meeting them a couple of times.

We’d head west once we’d passed the mountains, passing north of the ruined city of Atval, then go along the border road to Yslin. The entire ninety-eight-league trek would take us eighteen days. We would arrive in Yslin in the middle of the Harvest Festival.

The early part of the journey proved uneventful. We camped out some nights and took over the inns in a few small villages on others. Since our road provisions consisted of dried beef, cobbles—little, round biscuits baked hard enough to serve as paving stones—flour, rice, and millet, taking meals in the taverns offered us variety we all welcomed. Being able to stable the horses and get them more grain instead of just field forage was also a welcome change.

When asked why we were traveling south, Lord Norrington told innkeepers that he was taking the three of us moonmaskers to the Harvest Festival in Yslin to broaden our view of the world. This explanation proved immensely entertaining for tavern denizens, who all took it upon themselves to discuss every Harvest Festival story they’d ever heard. Some of them were good, but quite a few dulled after the first telling, and we heard them night after night.

We also learned a lot about local happenings. So far the news from Valsina had not made it south, so no one knew what we’d done. The black temeryx feathers on our moonmasks were taken to be from overly large ravens, and a few folks poked fun at us for that. Leigh bristled at such things, but his father kept him in line. Nay and I just fell into a pattern of spinning out a tale of our war with the ravens. It grew with each telling and, truth be told, was more entertaining than most festival stories.

Back on the road, as the three of us were riding with Leigh’s father, I asked Lord Norrington when the last time was that temeryces and vylaens and gibberkin had been found in Oriosa.

He pursed his lips for a moment, then looked at me. “In truth, I do not know. You’ve heard the stories of local news, how some shepherds have found sheep dead or how farmers have lost calves. Could be that’s the work of wolves, or it could be temeryces. They could have been here for years and we’ve not known it. I doubt it, though, since they seem quite bold.

“As for confirmed sightings, you would have to go back a century or so, at the time of the last Aurolani invasion. Among the Aurolani a leader rose up, a vylaen-urZrethi mongrel, if the stories are true, named Kree’chuc. He gathered a vast army and descended through a pass in the Boreal Mountains. They swept over Noriva—what we call the Ghost Marches now— and conquered Vorquellyn. No one thought they could do that, no one thought the Aurolani could master ship building or sailing, but they had.

“They sailed on south, bypassing Fortress Draconis, to attack Sebcia and Muroso.”

Leigh frowned. “I thought Fortress Draconis was meant to protect the Southlands from invasion. It failed.”

His father shook his head. “Fortress Draconis is perfectly positioned to cut off supplies flowing south, which it effectively did. After the elves smashed most of his fleet, Kree’chuc’s army had to live off the land. His forward troops moved into Oriosa, but urZrethi from Bokagul and Sarengul halted their advance. Human forces then pushed in through Saporcia and drove the army back through the Black Marches.

Troops from Fortress Draconis harried them all the way to the pass, then a strong Aurolani force held them back.“

“Kree’chuc was killed at Yvatsen Bend.” Nay smiled. “He thought he held the only ford for many leagues. Thought he was safe with the river bend between us and his army.”

Lord Norrington nodded. “You know the history of the Twilight Campaign?”

“My mother’s father knew the tales. Had them from his father. Wanting to be a warrior comes from that.”

“If your great-grandfather was part of the Twilight Campaign, you are heir to a noble tradition.” Lord Norrington gave Nay a broad smile. “And you are correct. An urZrethi host shifted tons of stones to make another ford, then the army crossed to Kree’chuc’s rear. They drove his forces back against the river, shattering them and killing him. Our army then headed north, joined with the troops from Fortress Draconis, and pushed on, bent on slaying his foul mistress. Chytrine raised an army and blocked the pass.”

Leigh frowned. “If we broke the Aurolani army, why didn’t we free the Ghost Marches and Vorquellyn?”

Lord Norrington shrugged his shoulders rather stiffly. “It happened long before my time, so I don’t know for certain. The immediate reason for the lack of a fight was an early winter. The army headed home. The Twilight Campaign cost a lot of lives and created a lot of misery, so few were the rulers willing to repeat that sort of hardship for their people.

“Other problems took over later. Okrannel felt secure behind its mountain border with the Ghost Marches and didn’t want to invite an army in. Given how armies tend to feed off the locals, that’s not hard to understand. Also Noriva and Okrannel used to fight a lot over the bay between them, so not having the lords of Noriva returned to their lands meant one less problem for Okrannel’s leaders.”

Leigh’s eyes got a distant look. “Wouldn’t a seaborne invasion have worked?”

“It might have, but that sort of thing is very difficult. The logistics …”

I narrowed my eyes. “Is this something that is being considered?”

“Considering it is an exercise that has kept many warriors from boredom while garrisoning some far-flung fortress.” Lord Norrington laughed lightly. “Perhaps we can work out details on our journey.”

“That was the reason Vorquellyn was never freed?” Nay’s eyes hardened. “It is an island.”

“Itis an island, but that is not the only reason for its remaining under the Aurolani banner.” Lord Norrington unstoppered his canteen and drank, then wiped his mouth off with his right hand. “The elves live in their homelands, of which Vorquellyn is one. Their holdings used to be much larger, but they retreated to the present enclaves as humans spread further. When they reach the right age, roughly akin to your reaching your Moon Month, they undergo a ritual that ties them to the homeland of their birth. It is a magickal bond. If their homeland suffers, so do they, so they steward the land far more diligently than any other species.

“When the Aurolani forces overran the island, those Vorquellyn elves who had been bound to the land and survived the attack were in much pain. Some died of being heartsick. Others just headed west. What they did when they reached the ocean, no one knows; they just vanished. The others, the youngers, though, they could not be bound to any other homeland, though other elves offered them sanctuary. The Vorquellyn elves, they’re very different.”

He sat back in his saddle. “You three have never seen elves, have you, or urZrethi or any of the other species.”

I smiled. “You mean, besides gibberkin and vylaens?”

“Point taken.” “Not me.”

Nay shook his head, as did Leigh.

“Perhaps in Yslin we will see some. Envoys attend the festival from time to time.” Lord Norrington stroked his chin. “By the end of your Moon Month you will see more of the world than most people do in a lifetime. Perhaps—”