The Dark Glory War (32 page)

Lord Norrington pressed his lips together in a grim lin “Help with the wounded. Get everyone back to the inm city.”

I looked up at him. “What about the DragonCrown fraj ment?”

He shook his head. “We haven’t the people or the time 1 mount a search for it. Chytrine has lost twosullanciri here i Okrannel. It’s not a trade I like because she’s got the better c the deal, but there is no going back and fixing things nov Besides, it’s not in her hands yet, so we might be able to get back again.”

I heard what he was saying and understood it, butsomt where in my heart a sense of doom had begun to take hole Faryaah-Tse struggled against pain in Nay’s arms, Leigh leane heavily on Seethe, Heslin and others were dead or dying at th tower, and my ribs ached. The grand expedition which ha traveled so far to save Okrannel had failed, and even then knew that was a fell omen.

Dpon our return to the inner city, trumpets blared loudly, signaling a general retreat. Our troops filtered back through the city slowly, grudgingly. Though most were wounded and all of the archers’ arrows had been spent, the warriors were jubilant. They struggled against the recall the way hounds fight the leash. Each one of them knew he had the enemy on the verge of breaking, and only the recall prevented a total victory.

They managed to transform even our loss into a cause for celebration. I couldn’t fault them there, for the death of asullanciri was certainly good for our cause. The significance of the DragonCrown fragment was not truly understood—perhaps because men did not want to comprehend the vast horror of its being in the hands of the enemy. For now, though, Leigh was a hero, having slain twosullanciri. Soldiers marching to their boats hailed him and cheered him as he sat on theInvictus‘ forecastle getting his face sewn shut.

Many remarked how stoic he was, not wincing, not reacting as the needle Seethe wielded pierced his flesh and pulled the seams tight. The arrow had slashed along his left cheek, slicing through his mask and all but severing his earlobe.

Seethe had deftly sewn the lobe back on as well, apologizing for the scar.

Leigh shook his head lethargically. “Your magickers have enough to do saving those who are truly wounded. My mask will hide the scar well enough.”

Wounded there were, and many of them gravely hurt, so the eleven magickers among the Vilwanese crew and the Loc-quellyn ships, as well as Winfellis, the Croquelf who had been with us from the start, had much too much work to do. The wounded were divided into three groups: those who would die, those who might die, and those, like Leigh, Nay, and myself, who had minor wounds. The elven magickers worked on the middle group, then sought people from the first group. The rest of us were left to needle, thread, and healing poultices.

The human magickers were put to the task of making poultices or working to make the ships ready for the open ocean. As it’s been explained to me, spells that have an effect on living things are difficult to master, so human magickers deal mostly with inanimate objects. Elves, because they live much longer, have a greater chance for the study of and mastery of greater magicks. They were careful to note to those they treated that while they might speed the healing process, it would be the body doing the healing. Those who had been spelled back to health required a lot of rest and food, to keep up the strength their bodies needed to repair the damage.

Seethe leaned close to Leigh’s cheek and nipped off the end of the knotted thread. “That should do you, Master Norrington.”

“Thanks.”

She next turned to me. “Strip yourself out of your armor and let me sew you up.”

I unfastened the ties holding my jerkin closed, slipped my left arm from the sleeve, and peeled the jerkin back. I raised my arm so she could get a good look at the cut, which had bled not too seriously. She knelt at my left, washed blood away with a damp rag, and began to work on me. I looked to my right to avoid watching her, thinking that might dull the needle-pricks and thread-tugs a bit.

Leigh fingered his torn cheek with trembling fingers. “He would have killed me.”

My quick laugh died in a hiss as Seethe jabbed me. “Ouch. Leigh, he was a bad shot. He needed magick to hit his targets.”

Leigh’s eyes narrowed as he turned to face me. Anger contorted his features. “Don’t do that, Hawkins, don’t make fun. I know what you did. I felt your arrow come past me. I saw it hit his bow. If not for you, I’d be dead.”

“If not for you, Leigh, we’d all be dead.”

His shoulders slumped forward a bit, then he seemed to half rouse himself with a barked laugh. “Vathendir Krithron would have killed me and taken Temmer.”

“Who?”

“Thesullanciri, that was his name, Vathendir Krithron.”

“How do you know that?”

Leigh closed his eyes and shook his head. “I don’t know. From Temmer, I guess, just like with the Iron Prince. I just know that as I closed with him, I learned about him. It was as if with each step I could hear a bard telling the story of his life. He’d started out noble, from Harquellyn. He embraced the Vorquelf cause and mounted a peaceful expedition to get Chytrine to cede back Vorquellyn. She negotiated with him, gave him hope, showed him wonders and seduced him with offers of power. She found his weakness—a hatred for Gyrkyme— and she exploited it. He accepted her invitation to become a Dark Lancer.

“It was him or me there, the dark against the light. I had to kill him else all would have been lost.” Leigh’s eyes focused distantly and I noticed his left hand had fallen to stroke Tem-mer’s hilt. The palsy that shook it before had vanished. “It was an almost thing, my death. I would have been defeated in my final battle.”

Leigh blinked his eyes and looked at me. He gave me a smile, then leaned to the right and came up with the Dark Lancer’s bow in his hand. “You lost your bow back there. I want you to have this one.”

I held my hands up. “You killed him, it’s yours by right.”

“No, Hawkins,we killed him, and this bit of plunder is2—

yours. It’s enchanted. With it you can kill the nextsullanc we see.“

“Truth be told, Leigh, I’d rather have magick arrows; ar missed my chance to gather them in the streets.”

Leigh raised an eyebrow at me. “You were a bit bu: there.”

“You noticed?”

“Yes, and if you need a magick arrow, there’s always tr one in Faryaah-Tse.” He shoved the bow toward me. “Take i Use it.”

I took the bow from him, and as I wrapped my left han around the grip, I did feel a tingle run over me. I looked pa; Seethe toward the city and picked out a window as a targe-From the bow I got a vague sense of the distance to it, and fel an urging to raise my left arm to get the proper elevation ti send an arrow through the window. I didn’t get the informa tion in rods, yards, feet, or inches and fractions thereof; it wa more like the sort of hunch I’d come to rely on when makinj quick shots.

The value of such a weapon immediately hit me, but a littlt chill ran through me. If I came to rely on its magick, m) innate sense of making a shot might be lost. Still, in as desperate a situation as we found ourselves, could I abandon sc powerful a tool? Would allowing an erosion of my own skills in the name of our greater cause be good or bad?

I didn’t have an answer, but I nodded and accepted the weapon anyway. “Thank you, Leigh.”

He nodded as if he’d only half heard me, then tore the hanging strip of leather from the left cheek of his mask. He pulled the mask back on and tied it in place. “I’m going to go get some sleep.”

“Good idea.”

He staggered toward the steps down to the main deck and leaned heavily on the railing with both hands. He would have slipped and fallen, but Nay caught him and steadied him as he mounted the steps himself. I could see the top of his flame-haired head as he guided Leigh to the forward companionway, then Nay returned and limped his way up the steps.

He plunked himself down on the ract i using as a seat and extended his left leg. Through the rent in his leather trousers I could see the stitching that had been done on him. He sighed wearily and scratched up under his mask at the corner of his right eye. “Faryaah-Tse will heal.”

“That’s good to know.”

Nay nodded. “Pain from the arrow was fierce. She concentrated and shifted a bit. They only cut skin to get it out.”

I frowned. “Why didn’t they just break the arrow, pull one end out, and push the other through?”

“Couldn’t. Don’t know what it’s made of. A fell thing, by the touch of it.”

“Leigh and I were just talking about those arrows. I’d be interested to have a look at it. Might be a match for this bow.” I winced as Seethe tugged on the thread to tighten a knot. “How’s your leg?”

“No more serious than your ribs.” Nay gave me a wry grin.

“The three of us have been lucky. Just cuts. Heslin is dead.

Faryaah-Tse is shot through. Prince Kirill’s shoulder is hurt from his fall. He’s heartsick with the idea that his daughter might be dead, too.“

“No surprise there, but she’s alive. The Dark Lancer was hunting the DragonCrown, not an infant.”

Seethe glanced up at me. “How can you be so certain?” I shuddered. “If Preyknosery had been downed, thesullanciri would have traded Alexia for the DragonCrown fragment. Traded her or her corpse, whichever would have caused Kirill more pain.”

The Vorquelf thought for a moment silently, then nodded. She leaned in and nipped off the thread with which she’d closed my wound. Her lips brushed my flesh as she did so. I felt a thrill run through me as that happened. I reached down with my left hand to pat her on the shoulder in thanks, but my hand stroked her dark hair and fair cheek in its descent. She looked up and our gazes met, redoubling the thrill.

Seethe stood slowly, then nodded. “There are others I must tend to.”

“Thank you, Seethe.” I hesitated. “If there is anything I can do to repay you …”

She laughed lightly. “I shall think on that, Master Hawkins, and may accept your kind offer at another time.”

I nodded, then looked at Nay to see if he’d noticed what had passed between Seethe and me. I think I was less worried that he had and would tease me about it than that he hadn’t noticed and I would have no way to double-check my impressions.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, his eyelids had grown heavy and he swayed on top of the cask. I caught him by the shoulder and eased him to the deck. He curled himself up against the bulwark and began to snore. I almost poked him, for the sound seemed grossly out of place as our fleet readied itself for retreat. Then it occurred to me that his snores were something natural in a most unnatural setting and, for that reason, I left him alone.

I cast about for something to do, but I just seemed to get in the way, so I sought out Lord Norrington to see if I could be of service to him. I found him out on the breakwater that separated the harbor from the gulf. Massive stones had been placed together to create the breakwater, which stood a good six feet above the calm harbor water level and had an expanse of twice that across the top. He was speaking with the three princes, and though it might be unkind of me to note it, only Scrainwood had managed to come away from the battle without need of stitch or bandage. The fifth man with them I recognized as one of the harbor pilots we’d taken on board as we were coming into Svarskya harbor.

The pilot pointed out into the gulf. Black clouds gathered there, and slowly drifted in our direction, with lightning flashing within them from top to bottom. Waves crashed into the breakwater itself, sending spray to dapple the calmer harbor waters and drench us. “Tagothcha seems a mite upset at you for fooling him before.”

Lord Norrington nodded. “Chytrine doubtlessly knows we tricked theweirun and she’s making sure we don’t get to sail to Fortress Draconis.”

Scrainwood flung his arms wide open. “We can’t stay here. Even if we gather the ships in the harbor, fire arrm*ť -fireships can rWt-~

Augustus, whose head was crowned with white bandages that were reddening in some spots, rested a hand on Scrainwood’s shoulder. “No one is suggesting we remain here. We’ve got to be going, but the question is one of whether or not we can win theweirun over to our side.”

Scrainwood knitted his fingers together and hooked his thumbs in his sword belt. “Offerings will do it, won’t they? What will theweirun demand?”

Kirill frowned. “I’ve not seen Tagothcha this irritated before, at least, not this early in the month of Leaffall.”

Seethe appeared at my left shoulder. “Theweirun have always been subject to tantrums.”

Lord Norrington looked at her. “We were discussing possible offerings for Tagothcha. Have you an idea? It should be something special.”

Seethe laughed, then turned and spat into the gulf. “There, I offer Tagothcha what he is worth: nothing. On his back were borne the ships that brought death to Vorquellyn. He will have nothing from me but venom.”

A wave hurled itself against the breakwater and gallons of brine splashed over her. The wave’s power staggered her, but I caught her and stopped her from falling into the harbor.

Lord Norrington scratched at his chin. “Interesting offer, but one that was counterproductive. Other suggestions?”

I stepped toward the gulf side of the breakwater and un-slung thesullanciri’s bow. Again I got a sense of target, one deep within the roiling black waters. I knew if I fitted an arrow to the bow and drew it back, I could drive the arrow through theweirun who watched us from below. I let my hand slip down from the grip and dipped the bow’s tip in spray from the next wave.

“Here, Tagothcha, I offer you a magickal weapon. With it I probably could not slay you, but I could hurt you. Anyone could, but I give it to you to keep you safe. In return, I ask you do the same: keep us safe.”

“No!” cried Scrainwood from behind me. I flung the bow as far out as I could. A wave rose to snatch the bow from the air. It sank without a sound or ripple. The sea calmed, ever so slightly.

Smiling, I turned to face the others. “That seems to have worked.”

Fury burned in Scrainwood’s eyes. “That was a waste of a valuable tool. If you did not want it, you should have given it to me.”