The Sleeping King (56 page)

Raina stepped between them hastily as the two bristled at each other. “Who's hungry? The stew smells ready. Here, let me serve it up.” She thrust bowls of hot stew into Kendrick's and Sha'Li's hands, effectively ending their spat. They subsided, sulking into their bowls.

“What name did that yellow dryad call you?” Rosana asked Will. “I did not quite catch it.”

He had no intention of confessing to them that he might be possessed by some crotchety old tree spirit. He did detect—and secretly enjoy—the hint of jealousy in Rosana's voice, though.

He answered casually, “It was nothing worth repeating. But the good news is they won't be bothering us anymore. The golden one is some sort of noble among her kind. If she can't bewitch me, I think they all will give up trying.”

“But she said she would come back sometime to see if you are interested in her then, yes?” A definite note of resentment had crept into Rosana's voice now.

Will laughed. He couldn't resist teasing, “There are worse fates.”

The party ate in silence for a few minutes, the rest of them wolfing down the stew. Will picked at it halfheartedly.

A rustling sounded from off to his left.

Eben threw a disgusted look at the forest in general. The jann hummed around a mouthful of stew, surly. “I thought you said the dryads were going to leave us alone. Sounds like your girlfriend is already back. With more of her friends this time.”

Will sighed. He was really getting tired of this. Why did he have to be a cursed dryad magnet? He peered into the darkness. And smelled them before he saw them. Rotting meat. And then his disk started to burn so fiercely it stole his breath completely away.

Orcs.

The brush all around them erupted. A half-dozen howling orcs charged them, clubs raised and blood in their eyes.

Will spewed out the mouthful of stew he'd just taken and threw his bowl at the nearest orc as he scrambled for his staff.
Dregs!
Where had these beasts come from?

An orc swung a war club at Will, who parried the blow with his longer staff and riposted with a quick jab to the creature's exposed shoulder. The orc staggered back, clutching his arm as Will looked around frantically. The seven in his party had been attacked by at least as many orcs, all bearing the irregular red forehead markings of the Boki, and two of his number were healers and not combatants. This was bad. Very, very bad.

 

CHAPTER

22

“My lady, that wounded fellow who was found in the woods this morning is asking for you.”

Gabrielle looked up in surprise at the servant boy. “Me? I am no healer.”

The boy shrugged apologetically. He obviously had no more information than he'd just given her. With a sigh, she rose, made her way across the bailey to the infirmary, and ducked into the small cottage built off by itself to isolate diseases from the castle population. A Heart adept looked up as she entered.

“Thank you for coming, Your Highness. This man is refusing treatment until he speaks with you.”

“In private,” the gravely wounded man gasped.

Gabrielle's ever-present bodyguard made a sound of denial behind her as she studied the man. He looked like any other peasant, roughly dressed and work hardened. With great effort, he moved his right hand from under the blanket and laid it on top of the wool, wrist up. She spied the crude tattoo inside his wrist as she was obviously meant to, and her stomach clutched.

“I will speak with this gentleman alone,” she declared. “Please leave us.”

Her guard protested, but she raised a hand, cutting him off. It was not often she pulled rank, but tonight she did so. “I insist,” she said with quiet authority.

The healer and one extremely unhappy knight backed out of the cottage. When the door had latched, she turned quickly and knelt at the side of the man with the eight-pointed compass tattoo. “Have you a message for me?” she murmured low.

“News. Must get it to the Eight. Have you a way to pass it to them?” The man did indeed sound as if he were on his last legs.

“Yes, of course.” If Talissar was not one of the Eight's inner circle, he would surely know one of their number.

“Insurrection brews on Haelos. Factions there test Anton's strength. Move against him indirectly. They will drain the colony's resources and, furthermore, draw Imperial attention. Force Koth to send reinforcements.”

“Is that all?” she asked.

He nodded, and then his eyes rolled up into his skull alarmingly.

“Adept!” she called out urgently. “Come quick!”

The healer, hands glowing, and her guard, sword drawn, rushed inside the cabin.

“He's died,” she reported. “I shall leave so you may do your best to revive him.”

The adept nodded, already gathering magic for a life spell. She swept out of the infirmary quickly. She had no wish to be present when the fellow fully regained consciousness. Her desire to question him, to learn more of the mysterious Eight, was nigh overwhelming.

She fingered the Octavium Pendant Talissar had given her. She'd worn it continuously since her memory of Darius returned. She would not risk forgetting her loyal knight and his supreme sacrifice again. In addition, her impulses to dance embarrassingly in the Emperor's gardens had not returned since she donned the talisman. Of course, neither had Starfire returned to court since he was ordered by Maximillian to walk the Ice Bridge all those years ago.

Clearly, the Eight's plans centered around the colony of Dupree. And given the urgency of the fellow's message, she could only assume that the Eight's plans might be nearing fruition in Dupree. Was the collapse of the first buttress holding up the Empire closer than she had realized?

She strolled back to the castle thoughtfully. She started at the noise of a trumpet announcing the arrival of guests to the castle. Any time Imperial nobles came to the outer kingdoms, local nobles flocked to get face time with members of the court, to make contacts and maybe gain favor.

She called to the steward whom she spied hurrying toward the bailey, “Who is it?”

“Brialla of Aurenhorn and her brother, Idrys.”

Gabrielle's heart near skipped a beat. Brialla was the kindari daughter of Talissar and the Queen of Quantaine. Idrys Bowyn was Brialla's twin, a silvani. Surely no mere coincidence accounted for Talissar's offspring arriving here at the same time as both Laernan and a messenger bearing news for the Eight. Did the twins work for their father's cause as well, then? Neither twin was often at court. It was possible they avoided the scrutiny of the Emperor—

Gabrielle ordered the steward, “I will meet them personally. Show them to my solar. Have refreshments sent up immediately.” He veered toward the kitchens while she glanced up quickly at the sun. Lunch was perhaps an hour gone by. How much longer her husband and the psionic hunters would be afield was anybody's guess. If the twins had business from the Eight to conduct in Haraland, it would have to happen fast.

The entourage piled into the bailey noisily, and she waited impatiently for the twins to separate themselves from the others. Soon enough a handsome pair of youths stepped forward and bowed formally to her. She returned the bow and then said warmly, “Welcome to Haraland. My lord husband is afield, but I will be honored to entertain you until his return.”

Under her breath, Brialla murmured, “That suits us well, as our business is with you, Your Highness.”

“Ahh,” Gabrielle breathed. Louder, she ordered servants to show the entire party into the great hall and bring food and drink for all the travelers. In short order she led the twins to her private office and closed the door. A light snack was already laid out and waiting. She served the twins herself.

“How may I help you?” she asked bare moments after she handed her guests their plates and goblets.

Brialla fingered a pendant nearly identical to Gabrielle's and murmured, “A ship will make port soon in Haraland, and we have passengers and cargo that must needs be aboard when it sails again.”

A coastal nation, Haraland was renowned for its deepwater port and fleet of oceangoing vessels. “What ship do you have in mind?”

“The Black Ship
Courageous
. It makes shore one last time before crossing to Haelos.”

She started. The Black Ships were another matter entirely. Imperial harbormasters and longshoremen loaded and unloaded the mighty juggernaut-class vessels personally and saw to their comings and goings separate from all other ships passing through.

“Have you these passengers and supplies with you?” she asked.

“Aye. Several avarians you can recognize by the white swans on their heraldry. And various items in their baggage … mostly magical in nature. Nothing that would draw the attention of an Imperial inspector, of course.”

“I will have a word with Regalo. He can have a conversation with the Imperial harbormaster. He will see to it the passengers and their baggage make the ship.”

“My thanks, Your Highness. Whilst my sister and I are here, is there aught we can do for you?” Idrys asked quietly.

“In fact, there is. A Child of Fate, a stargazer of no small talent, has emerged in Haraland. High Lord Inquisitor Laernan and the Emperor's Master of Hounds arrived yester eve and already hunt her.”

Idrys lurched upright in his chair. “Do you know the whereabouts of this Child? We must get her out of Haraland immediately!”

“My thought exactly. I can tell you where she last was and who I sent to take her away. Any aid you could render, any diversion to the hounds, would be immensely helpful.”

“Consider it done,” the twins murmured in unison. They rose in graceful and perfect unison as well.

“Might we trouble you for inconspicuous clothing?” Idrys asked.

As Gabrielle nodded, Brialla added, “And is there, perchance, a … discreet … way to leave the castle?”

“Of course. Follow me.”

*   *   *

Will took a quick, assessing look around the firelight clearing. Unless he did something creative and unexpected, this fight was going to go against them very fast. Even in the few seconds it took him to look about, his companions were all but overrun.

Rosana was holding her own at the moment. The combination of her colors, her brightly glowing hands, and the most colorful stream of invective he'd ever heard issue from a female mouth seemed to have frozen the orcs before her in place.

The brush was thick around them, though, making use of magic nigh unto impossible except at very close range. The heavy foliage provided abundant cover to duck and hide from bolts of magic or thrown alchemy globes. Cicero seemed to be thinking the same thing, for he drew his short bow quickly. Arrows would fly true through underbrush. The heavy brush was also going to make movement difficult. Swinging his staff was going to be a problem. If only he knew the first thing about fighting with a sword! But his father had never deigned to teach Will bladed combat.

Sha'Li hadn't run. Backed up against a tree, long claws extended from her fingers, she swung them in continuous and vicious arcs before her. As he glanced her way he saw her spit. A stream of black fluid streamed from her mouth and smacked the orc nearest her on the face. The beast screamed and collapsed to his knees, his hands tearing at his skin as if acid ate at it.

Will's gaze shifted to Kendrick, whose sword flashed so fast Will could hardly make out his weapon. Still, a wall of orcs was advancing on the young warrior and would overrun his position in a few seconds. Raina was gathering a massive ball of magical energy behind Cicero, but what she planned to do with it Will could not guess. As far as he knew, she had no skill with combat spells.

Eben fought with his back to a tree, and Kendrick was making his way toward his friend. They were both excellent fighters and would give the orcs trouble unless and until a magic caster took them out.

Kendrick yelled over his shoulder, “Aim for the joints of their armor or their heads, Will! Your staff will be of no use against their hide armor!”

Will gripped his staff tightly in his hands and charged. The temptation to shout a battle cry was great, but he bit it back. Better to surprise his enemies than warn them of his coming.

Staff flailing, he plowed into the nearest Boki and managed to bowl the beast into another one. Both orcs staggered, snarling, and got tangled up with each other. Will's staff slammed into the first orc's throat, a harmless-looking little move, but the creature went down, gasping. Apparently, orcs had breathing parts in roughly the same spot as humans.

The second orc stumbled back, shoving the weight of his companion off of himself. Will jumped forward, up and under the orc's blade, and jammed the end of his staff into the side of the orc's head. He whirled and threw up the staff, barely managing to parry the swing of a two-handed axe from another orc, presumably aimed at cleaving Will's head in half. Luckily, he caught the blade on the metal-covered portion of his staff and it was not cleaved in half by the orcish axe.

The axe slipped off his staff and sliced the laces off his shirt but otherwise did not harm him. Will fell to the ground, rolled, and, as he somersaulted past the orc, swung hard at the beast's ankles, connecting with the bones there with several fast blows. The orc went down, roaring in pain. Will's staff fouled in the underbrush and he frantically yanked it free.

He rolled to his feet, planted his staff, and vaulted into yet another Boki, feetfirst. His boots connected solidly with the creature's chest. The beast staggered back, shouting what sounded like invective in his thick accent. Holding his staff in the middle, Will swung his staff furiously, battering at the orc with both ends of the weapon. Will could not kill the beast, but mayhap he could drive it back into Kendrick's and Eben's swords. Before Will could accomplish that, however, the orc toppled over with one of Sha'Li's alchemy globes broken against his back.