The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 3 From the Ashes (75 page)

“I have another favor to ask of you instead,”
Micah began hesitantly and fidgeted with his glass of wine.

“Then ask,” Jala urged him.

“We were sent south to forcefully evacuate
those too stubborn to leave their land. We have refugees camped
among our soldiers now, to escort north. I still have to reach the
Elemental towers of Amdany, but the refugees are slowing our
progress so much that it may be too late by the time I reach there.
Seravae is raiding in numbers that they have never shown before and
I worry that the mages there will not be able to hold against
them,” Micah explained, his gaze rising to meet her eyes once
more.

“You want me to continue north with your
people,” Jala surmised and nodded slowly.

“I cannot believe the mages are still in
Amdany,” Valor began with a shake of his head. Leaning forward he
looked at Jala and she could see the worry on his face. “Honor’s
wife and daughters live in that tower. He must be frantic to reach
them. Why hasn’t she evacuated before now?”

Micah smiled, his eyes flicking toward Honor
who was engaged in a heated debate with Neph farther down the
table. “He is frantic and the pace we are moving at is like torture
to him. He has asked permission to ride ahead four times now and so
far I have refused him.” Sighing, Micah twirled the wine in his
glass once more and shrugged at Valor. “You know how Chalice is.
She is as strong willed and independent as her husband or their
marriage never would have lasted so long with his extended absence
from her side. Her life revolves around the Amdany towers and she
will not abandon her post.”

“We will help you,” Jala promised, glancing
back to Valor with a smile. “I’m sure Valor will be able to guide
us to your holdings in the north,” she added and Valor nodded in
answer.

“Our plan is to get everyone to safety at the
Dawnspire Fortress and then strike back in force to clear the
enemies from Arovan. Glis stands with us and with the help of Merro
it shouldn’t take long to win back our country. Then we can focus
on Glis though that may take much longer than any of us care to
think about,” Micah explained.

“We will help with the cleansing of Arovan,
but we must return to Merro once that is done,” Valor said, his
words drawing an expression of surprise from Jala.

“Understood,” Micah agreed with a smile, his
eyes flicking between the two of them. “You make a beautiful
couple, if I may say so. I wish you both happiness and my deepest
thanks for what you are doing to help my land. Arovan will always
consider Merro the closest of friends, I promise you that.” Micah
raised his glass as he spoke. “To Merro and the Lady Bendazzi, may
the friendship she has shown Arovan never be forgotten,” he called
loudly, his clear voice ringing down the table. Echoes of his words
rang back through the hall and Jala bowed her head in thanks, a
deep smile on her face.

Arovan

Her horse shifted beneath her as she gazed at
the soft glow rising from the southeast. Frowning, Jala looked over
to Valor in question. They had left his home days before and had
been steadily moving north at a pace that tested even her patience.
Most of the people she escorted were commoners and their strength
was far more limited than that of her soldiers.

“It’s fire, and a big one if we can see it
from here. By the glow I would say Amdany itself is burning,” Valor
said at last, his voice filled with concern.

“Perhaps they set it to prevent Seravae from
using it as a landing point,” Jala offered, but not even she truly
believed her words. All morning she had felt a tension in the air
though she hadn’t mentioned it to anyone. It was as if the world
itself was pressing in on her trying to warn her. Tiny needles
danced across her flesh as she continued to stare at the distant
fire. “We both know that isn’t it, though. Something is very
wrong,” Jala said in a quieter voice.

“We can’t press our people any farther
tonight. They are exhausted,” Valor sighed, his own frustration
rising in his voice. “We need to make better time, damn it!” he
growled, his palm striking the front of his saddle in anger.

“Do you feel it, Jala?” Vaze asked as he
stepped from the shadow and began to walk slowly toward them.

Jala glanced over at her Uncle and nodded
slowly. “I feel something, but I don’t know what it is. In my gut I
know something is wrong and I keep feeling this prickling sensation
on my skin.” Her voice was filled with the tension that pressed her
and she looked to Vaze hoping he would explain what it was she
sensed.

“They are looking for us with magic. That
prickling is their spells,” Vaze began, his gaze traveling to the
south. “I can’t see them clearly through the shadows. They are
hiding themselves well, but they are close.” His voice grew fainter
as he stared off into the darkness.

“Who?” Valor demanded, his own eyes moving to
follow Vaze’s gaze as if he could somehow see what the man
sensed.

“Rivasa,” Vaze said quietly, the word
sounding like a curse as he spoke. “They are moving far more
quickly than we are, Jala. They will be on us soon and with their
mages watching us so closely we don’t dare use magic to flee.”

“What do you suggest?” Jala asked. She had
expected to face Blights or perhaps even Seravae. She had not
however counted on Rivasa being here. Life was always so full of
unpleasant surprises.

“That we find the best ground we can to hold
them as quickly as we can and send the refugees on with a very
small force to protect them. I would use the shadows to speed them
on their way north but I cannot move so many and we cannot simply
leave them behind,” Vaze said as he moved to stand beside her
horse.

“I wouldn’t leave them behind to save
myself,” Jala said firmly. With a heavy sigh she nodded and glanced
to Valor. “Do you know of any place nearby that will suffice?”

Nodding slowly, Valor pulled his gaze back
from the fire of Amdany and motioned a hand back behind them to the
north. “There is a valley about five miles ahead near the foothills
of the Dawnfall Mountains that narrows near the center. If we place
our dragons on the hills above and our main force in the valley
itself we should be able to hold for a time.”

“Five miles,” Jala repeated, and then glanced
to Vaze. “You don’t believe there is any way I can transport us
with magic?” she asked.

“You are strong, Jala, but there is more than
one mage at work here. I cannot even counter their spells of
obscurity to get a glimpse of their true numbers,” Vaze said with a
sigh and shook his head. “To use a transport now would be suicide
for the mage as well as the ones being moved.”

“Then we press on the last five miles
tonight. We have no choice if they are truly closing on us
already.” Turning to Valor, Jala smiled. “Care to inform the
refugees while I empty some of our supply wagons to clear room for
the children?”

“We need the supplies, Jala,” Valor
objected.

“I will gem them Valor, I won’t leave them
behind. We need the people we are trying to save to survive and if
we force march them the weaker ones will die,” Jala said with a
final glance over her shoulder toward the south. Valor nodded his
agreement and she watched him ride off before turning to look at
Vaze. “How bad is it really?” she asked softly.

“If we can hold them until help arrives,
Arovan might survive,” Vaze said softly.

“What help?” Jala asked softly. There had
been so sign of any other nation rising to Arovan’s assistance and
she had difficulty believing they would stir in the face of the
newest threat.

“The help that I am praying so desperately
for right now,” Vaze replied with a trace of irony in his
voice.

Jala watched in mute horror as the ranks of
their enemy filled the field beyond the valley they had chosen for
their final ground. Tens of thousands of soldiers covered the
ground as far as she could see. Her mouth dry, she glanced over at
Vaze who stood beside her with a look of resolve on his face. She
didn’t dare look back at her own people right now, not with the
look of despair on her face. She could hear the murmurs through the
ranks behind her. They were nervous enough without seeing the fear
and utter lack of hope she knew she wore. There was no way her two
thousand could hold against Rivasa. They had faced bad odds before,
but nothing like this. Not even the chosen ground they stood in
could spare them from death.

“Lady Merrodin!” A voice called from across
the field amplified with magic. “I would speak with you, Lady
Merrodin!” The voice rose again as a rider broke free of the ranks
and stopped several yards ahead of his main force.

Pressing her own horse forward, Jala rode out
to the mouth of the valley with Neph and Valor close beside her.
The two Bendazzi ranged ahead of her horse and stopped, their
bodies both crouched in threat. With a quick spell, Jala amplified
her own voice and straightened her back. “Then speak!” she called
her voice steady despite her growing fear.

“As you can see, Lady Merrodin, you have no
hope of facing us. I find it rather amusing that you turned to make
a stand at all, but then you are rumored to be bold. I’m going to
offer you the chance to surrender before I slaughter your people,
however,” the man called back his voice light and filled with
mockery.

“Surrender and step aside so that you can
slaughter the people of Arovan?” Jala asked, lacing her tone with
disgust. The man was too far away for her to see his features
clearly but she recognized the colors of house Rivasa. This was
doubtless one of the High Lord’s sons that she addressed and if he
was anything like the ones she had already met he had very little
in the way of mercy.

“Let me show you what happens if you refuse
my offer, Lady Merrodin.” The Rivasan raised a hand and Jala
watched in silence as two poles were brought forward. Her throat
tightened as she gazed at the bodies that hung suspended like
grisly banners. Despite the distance she could clearly recognize
the silver of Honor Hai’dia’s hair though his body was too badly
burned to tell much else. The other she knew was Micah though not
even his dark hair remained to identify him.

“You son of a bitch!” Valor snarled, his
voice filled with grief and rage. Frantically, Jala grabbed his arm
as he pressed his horse forward. It was clear his emotions had
overruled his logic.

“Valor, no, please. He is trying to goad you,
please don’t,” Jala pleaded, her arms still gripping him tightly as
she turned back to face the Rivasan. The man had moved his horse
aside and his attention was fully focused on the ragged figure his
soldiers were pushing forward to stand between the two dead Arovan.
Her finery was torn to shreds and her silver hair hung over her
shoulders in tangles but Blue Bess still managed to stand on her
own. Even from their distance, Jala could see the blood that
covered the woman.

“Tell them they have no prayer. Tell them to
surrender or they will die, herald,” the Rivasan said as he rode up
behind Blue and prodded her roughly forward with his boot.

Blue stumbled and Jala thought she would fall
but the bard straightened and stood staring across the field at
them. “Kill them all, Valor! Make them pay for what they have done!
Do not trust their words. They are liars!” Blue called loudly, her
beautiful voice still clear and proud despite the torments the
woman had obviously endured.

The Rivasan rode forward quickly and kicked
the woman to the ground. “If you listen to her you, will die Lady
Merrodin. I give you until morning to surrender. If you try to flee
during the night my men will hunt you down with pleasure.”

“Kill them, Valor! Punish them!” Blue
screamed, her voice breaking as the soldiers drug her roughly to
her feet. Jala watched in helpless torment as the woman disappeared
once more into the enemy’s camp.

Turning to face Valor once more she slowly
released his arm and stared at the agony written clearly on his
face. Silently, she canceled the spell that amplified her voice and
cleared her throat. “We will make them pay, Valor, I promise you,
but it will be on our own terms, not his,” she spoke softly and
kept her eyes on him until he nodded his understanding. Turning,
she looked to Neph. To her surprise the Delvay wore a look of
outrage on his face as well, and his eyes showed glassiness she
never would have expected from him. He hadn’t even shown pain at
the news that his own homeland had fallen.

Swallowing heavily, Neph met her gaze and
nodded his head. “We won’t win, but I’m with you, Jala, till the
bitter end,” Neph said quietly.

Nodding, Jala smiled faintly. “Bring the
others to my tent, Neph. I’ll be there shortly,” she ordered and
turned back to Valor as the Delvay rode off. “We aren’t going to
surrender, Valor,” she said softly. Raising her hand she brushed a
stray curl from her face and let out a soft sigh. “We can’t win,
but maybe we can hold them long enough for Arovan to prepare for
them. I won’t run here, even if I thought I could. I’d rather die
fighting for what I believe in than die with an arrow in my back,
running.”