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Authors: Michael A. Stackpole

The Dark Glory War (52 page)

BOOK: The Dark Glory War
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I heard the crunch of heavy feet punching through the snow crust with each step. “Damn those gibberers for breaking the crust.”

I recognized the voice and turned my head toward it. The moonlight lent an iridescence to Resolute’s white hair and silver eyes. I reached my left hand toward him. I wanted to call his name, but words refused to come. I let my arm flop down across my chest and began to cry.

Resolute crouched beside me and smiled. “Don’t worry, Hawkins. You’ve promised to liberate Vorquellyn and I’m going to make sure you live long enough to do it.”

Resolute bundled me aboard a long sled of the sort used for travel in the winter. Usually dogs are used to pull it, and given my condition I could be wrong, but for part of our journey I’m fairly certain the beasts drawing us along were gibberers that he’d magicked back to life.

None of his magick could heal me, but his companion managed to help me recover. Sprynt was a Spritha and gatheredmetholanth and other herbs despite their being buried under feet of snow. Somehow he knew where they were, and Resolute told me that was a thing about Spritha, that there were times when they just knew they had to be someplace, and so they went.

“After you left Yslin, Sprynt found me and told me he knew he was to be with me in Aurolan to save you.” The Vorquelf shook his head. “There was no doubting him, and you might imagine that he could be something of a pest if you try to ignore him.”

“Adamant, adamant.” The Spritha posted his lower arms on his hips as his upper arms worked at sewing my scalp shut.

In the flickering light of the small fire Resolute had built I could see that Sprynt was not black but a bright red, and his eyes ruby. His hair was black, and the leathery bits of flesh between segments of his exoskeleton were the color of dried blood. The creature smiled frequently and worked on me with a delicate touch, which seemed to compensate for his disappointment over the fact that I would certainly bear scars from my wounds.

Resolute had come north through the pass. He’d started with enspelled wolves to pull the sled, but had switched to gibberers once he’d killed enough of them. “I felt sorry for using the wolves so.”

He assumed, and as my fever broke I agreed, that Chytrine would set troops in the pass to prevent my escape. To thwart her we worked our way south through the Boreal Mountains. Our journey took us through high passes that, while treacherous, did not betray the three of us. We eventually came down into the Ghost Marches almost due north of Vorquellyn. There Sprynt led us to some horses which we used to bring us to Fortress Draconis.

It is perhaps a sign of how weak I was that the fortress seemed to me to be the most beautiful building I’d ever seen. Though I’d only been a month absent from it, nearly all the rubble from the wall breaches had been cleared, and the walls were in the process of being rebuilt. Moreover, the fortress was being expanded, with new walls spreading out in a zig-zag pattern.

Within the walls reconstruction had also taken place. While empty lots marked the destruction Chytrine’s forces had caused, the streets had been cleared and life appeared normal for a town of this size. Washing hung from lines, flowers in pots decorated windows, and many buildings had been brightened up with splashes of paint.

Though I alone of the command company returned, those who recognized me seemed oblivious to the import of my solo return. Soldiers saluted me, and children ran in front of my horse, shrieking out the news of my return. Sprynt darted on ahead, presumably to tell the Draconis Baron of my arrival, as Dothan Cavarre met me at the tower gate. He helped me off my horse and inside, once again ensconcing me in the rooms I’d had before.

After a rest, I told the tale of our expedition to Cavarre and Prince Scrainwood. My story had little of the organization of this account and probably did sound like the ravings of a madman. At that time I was truly exhausted and as I told them what had happened, the grief I felt for my lost friends hammered me and ground down my spirit.

I relapsed into fever and Dothan Cavarre saw to my care. He insisted I remain as his guest until my health was again restored. It was not until later that I discovered he did this at Prince Scrainwood’s order—though, truth be told, Cavarre was the sort of man to have kept me there if he felt it was the best thing.

It certainly was not bad for me. Nay and Leigh had long since headed south to Valsina, wishing to make it home before winter set in. Still, there were enough people around who I knew to provide me ample visitors, and Cavarre took great delight in showing me all the steps being taken to restore Fortress Draconis. Resolute and Sprynt even stayed for a while, though they left on a ship for Yslin when word came through of Prince Augustus’ triumphant campaign in Okrannel and his return to Yslin.

Prince Scrainwood had left for Yslin the day after I told my story. I had not been sorry to learn of his departure. I had heard, of course, the old saw that one should keep friends close and enemies closer, but somehow the only enemies I thought I had in the world were to the north.

I learned my error when, in the spring, a ship came to Fortress Draconis with orders to take me to Yslin.

T suppose I should have known things were odd well before I I stepped onto theTectus for the journey to Yslin. During my 1 time at Fortress Draconis I was never summoned to the Phoenix Knights’ hall. To be perfectly honest I never sought to make contact with the Knights because my memory of all the rituals was bound up with images of Leigh and Nay and Lord Norrington. I spent a lot of time that winter doing all I could to avoid revisiting those memories.

Even so, I would have thought the Knights would have called me before them to praise me for surviving or to ask after Lord Norrington’s demise, or even to chasten me for failing to die with my comrades. At the very least they could have summoned me so I could learn more of my rank duties. From them I heard nothing, and even though I spent a lot of time with Cavarre, he never gave me any sign that he even knew what the Knights were, much less ran the lodge at Fortress Draconis.

The ship that had been sent for me, theTectus, was a small ship with a single mast and only eight oars. It could not make a lot of speed unless the wind or sea ran in our favor. Tagothcha allowed us to sail on unmolested and an unseasonable wind from the north propelled us south. We skirted Vorquellyn, then slid past Wruona, Vael, and Vilwan as if we were invisible.

The fare of dried meat, fish stew, and hard-baked biscuits proved slightly more tolerable than the company I was given. The crew ignored me almost entirely and the captain only spoke to me when it would have been painfully awkward not to acknowledge my existence. The only person who regularly did speak with me was an Oriosan who had been the envoy to bring my summons to me.

Cabot Marsham was and yet is an odious little man who has grown more sour and scheming over the years. I mistook the contempt in which he held me for some sort of jealousy, or pique over the fact that I, someone a good five years his junior, had been the reason he had to endure two long weeks on the sea while it was still so cold. The only things about him that were softer and thinner than his hair—which he still had then—were his arms and legs. In many ways he seemed to me to be a child playing at being an adult, and the faint little moustache that dusted his upper lip did nothing to dispel this impression.

Marsham asked incessantly about my adventures and, for lack of any other companionship, I made the mistake of indulging him. I confided in him many details—of conversations and encounters—that I consider so trivial to have omitted from this record, yet he wove them into a web that, before I knew it, had me all entangled.

We reached Yslin without incident and I was conducted to Fortress Gryps straight away. I was given a suite of rooms to myself and two servants so I would never be left unaccompanied. They saw to my every need and I discovered many of them had been anticipated. The wardrobe in my suite had already been filled with clothes cut to fit me perfectly.

Within two days of my arrival I was deemed “recovered” enough from my long voyage to be summoned. In the company of guards I descended to the Great Hall and received my first substantial shock when I entered the room. I last remembered it as the home to the Council of Kings, with a dozenťr^+~‘-l ~

now, though, tables had been arranged in long rows, akin to the oar-benches on a galley, with the leaders or ambassadors from every nation in the world represented. Each sat beneath a national banner hung from the ceiling, with all three elven homelands and even a couple of urZrethi homelands represented.

Duke Reed Larner, Chamberlain to Queen Lanivette of Oriosa, introduced me to the royal assemblage. He asked me to swear an oath to tell the truth, which I did, then he asked me to tell the leaders of the world about the expedition. I did so, as best I was able, and certainly made a better job of it that time than I did when speaking to Dothan Cavarre and Prince Scrainwood at Fortress Draconis.

I think I realized I was on trial as my narrative ended and the questions began. An ambassador from Nybal stood toward the back of the room. “Is it true that at Fortress Draconis you struck Prince Scrainwood of Oriosa not once, but twice?”

I hesitated, since that had not been part of my tale. “It is true. He’d run in terror in the face of the enemy. I wanted to bring him to his senses, so I slapped him. Twice.”

My response raced a murmur through the royals. I decided, albeit too late, that telling royalty that I’d decided one of their number needed to be slapped was not a good idea. At least, I hoped they were protesting my slapping him. If they were protesting the possibility of one of their company needing to be brought to his senses, well, the world was lost.

Another person asked if it were true that I discarded a powerful weapon, one that could have killedsullanciri, by cavalierly tossing it into the sea. Yet another wanted to know how it was that all my fellows, who were far more experienced than I in the ways of warfare, died in Boragul and I survived.

“That is a question I have asked myself every day since then.”

“And the answer you have come up with is?”

“If I had an answer, would I keep asking the question?”

The questions tailed off into inquiries about obscure details asked, I think, just so members of delegations could prove they had listened to me and, apparently, listened to others who spoke about me. When no more questions were offered, I was escorted back to my suite and locked in. While I did not want for material needs, a lack of freedom weighs one down more than any chains ever could. I was permitted no visitors and could neither send nor receive messages.

And I am assuming that at least one person, someone,anyone, did wish to speak with me.

The fact that I was not allowed visitors did not mean people were prevented from entering my apartments. My last morning there I awoke to find a fine black ash on my bedroom floor. It was laid out in the shape of a ceremonial robe and I knew no Phoenix Knight would be rising from those ashes. The message delivered in that way got through to me as nothing else had, and in that moment I think I grew up more than I had even through the events of the previous year.

I presented a problem for the rulers of the world. The previous year, at their command, a task force had gone forth and, at great cost, broken the Aurolani army. Prince Augustus had undertaken an operation that rescued the refugee population of Okrannel, though Aurolani forces, now reduced to roving bandit bands and local warlord militias, still controlled Okrannel. Jerana had held them back at their border and expatriate Okrans gathered there preparing to win their homeland back. Even the siege of Fortress Draconis had been lifted and Chytrine had fled.

In fact, everything had gone perfectly, save for the last strike at her, and I was the only person who tarnished the image of the heroes who had been sent forth. I was the one who said they had succumbed to Chytrine’s temptations. I was the one who reported they had become her creatures, but I could offer no proof. I can see that my story sounded suspect.

Or could easily have been made to sound suspect.

I was summoned back to the Council that day and ordered to stand before the assembly as Duke Larner read a list of refutations to what I had told others.

“The royal personages assembled here have decided and concluded the following to be facts: “First, it is inconceivable that the persons entrusted with seeing to the well-being of the nations assembled here would, at any time, under any circumstances, join forces with the evil they were sent to destroy.

“Second, according to testimony offered by other witnesses, the Boreal Pass has such snowfall in it that it will take thirty years for it to be passable again, eliminating any threat from Aurolan beyond the rovers who slip through the mountains from time to time.”

I laughed aloud. “You can say that to ease the fears of the common folks, but you know it’s not true. And, even if it was, she could come through Boragul.”

The Duke stared down at the foolscap upon which the refutations had been written and refused to look at me. “Third, according to urZrethi scouts who, in the company of the Vorquelf, Resolute, traveled to Boragul, that urZrethi stronghold is completely abandoned. It is open to the weather and completely uninhabitable. No gibberkin nurseries were located, no temeryces or any other creature were seen, and no urZrethi were in residence.

“Fourth, it is deduced that Tarrant Hawkins of Oriosa, a man who has admitted to striking the Prince of his nation, a man who is notorious for having stolen the sword Temmer to reap glory for himself at Fortress Draconis, a man who clearly was not prepared for the difficulties of the trek north, did get separated from the company of heroes and survived the horrible fate that overtook them. It is deduced that they sent him away, to preserve his life or even to summon help, and that in a confused state he himself was attacked and would have been slain save for the intervention of others. To believe otherwise of him would be to believe he had actively betrayed his companions, having allied himself with Chytrine, thereby committing treason against every civilized nation and earning the just rewards of same.”

BOOK: The Dark Glory War
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