They weren’t going to win this fight. But did they really want to be captured? Gyrmund’s thoughts went back to Coldeberg, the cell in the dungeon, the feeling of helplessness. He looked at Herin, who was no doubt thinking the same way.
Arioc looked around at them, a smile still playing on his face. His eyes finally rested on Herin’s.
‘Well? What’s it to be?’
Herin stood, still gripping his sword. My life is in his hands, thought Gyrmund. There’s a very good chance I’m about to die.
He felt strangely calm.
Herin dropped the sword onto the floor with a clang. Clarin and Moneva followed his lead.
‘Surrender,’ said Herin.
Bolivar’s Sword
Book Two of The Weapon Takers Saga
For Mum
Prologue
SIAVASH PAUSED OUTSIDE THE PRIVATE CHAMBERS of Lord Erkindrix, a thrill of anticipation coursing through his body.
To be invited here was a rare honour, even for him. Ordinarily, Erkindrix only held meetings in his Throne Room, or the Council Chamber. The private chambers were only accessed by those servants who tended to his physical needs. They were nameless, nugatory creatures, who no doubt saw him at his most vulnerable and repulsive. Siavash didn’t dwell on that.
No. Siavash, High Priest of the Order of Diis, member of the Council of Seven, didn’t thrill at the thought of sharing an enclosed space with Erkindrix and his decaying, putrid body. He craved proximity with a God. For Diis himself, the mightiest deity of all, inhabited the body of Erkindrix. His eyes rolled beneath the Lord of Ishari’s. His words could, at times, be heard through the reedy voice of his vessel.
Siavash entered the room. The stink of Erkindrix knifed through the cloying perfumes which were used to mask it. The Lord of Ishari lay prone on his bed. He had yet to regain strength enough to stand since the attack on Edeleny. Ishari had won a great victory against the Grand Caladri, but at a price. Scores of their magi lay dead, scores more had been pushed into madness by the confrontation.
‘What news?’ asked Erkindrix through a gargle of saliva.
Siavash approached the bed. He felt the presence of Diis—powerful, malevolent. It was as if his God, crushed inside the tiny, wizened frame of an old man, cast a shadow the size of a mountain. Siavash felt the primeval fear of encountering such a being; he felt the ecstasy of proximity to such power. Instinctively, he dropped to his knees.
‘I can report that most of the lands of the Caladri are being taken with no resistance. The only exception is to the south, where a faction has organised a military defence, supported by some surviving magi. It is not a significant threat, but they are able to use the terrain to their advantage.’
‘Good.’
Siavash prepared to deliver the bad news. He would enjoy the telling, but he had to be careful not to let Erkindrix see it. The Lord of Ishari’s relationship with Arioc was a close one, and Siavash knew that he always had to tread carefully on such territory.
‘Unfortunately, when our forces reached Onella’s Temple, Her Staff was missing.’
‘Missing?’ Erkindrix spluttered.
‘I should say, taken. It is unclear by whom, or where. But King Arioc has captured some prisoners whom he believes can reveal that information.’
‘Inept,’ Erkindrix barked, ‘to allow such a thing.’
Siavash smiled inwardly.
‘What other news?’
‘Queen Shira’s force has crossed into the Empire. Given her victory over the Rotelegen army, she should not take long to complete the conquest.’
Calling Arioc’s bitch a Queen never fails to stick in my throat, he added to himself.
Erkindrix grunted. With what looked like some effort, he pushed himself up into a sitting position. ‘The weapons,’ he hissed. ‘The threat from these weapons should not be underestimated. Nexodore has failed to deliver them, now Arioc fails me.’
Siavash almost volunteered then. To gain these weapons would be a trifling task, and yet give him success where the dread Nexodore and Arioc had both failed. But to leave Samir Durg, to leave his Master and his God, when he enjoyed such unrivalled proximity; that could be a dangerous mistake.
‘Send Pentas,’ said Erkindrix. ‘He must retrieve them.’
Siavash’s lip curled up into a sneer at the mention of the name.
‘What?’ demanded Erkindrix.
‘A human? He can’t be trusted with such a task,’ he replied with distaste.
‘Then who?’
Me? No. I must play a cautious game. My place is here, at the centre; at the very heart of power.
‘You are right, My Lord. I will instruct Pentas. I will make sure that he understands the importance of these weapons.’
1
Strangers
THE LIGHT OF MORNING FORCED BELWYNN to open her eyes. Her mind gradually returned the events of yesterday to her consciousness. Splitting up from her brother Soren and the others, Belwynn had joined Elana, Dirk and Rabigar in a search for Onella’s Staff. They had found it in the Temple, Elana seemingly guided to its location. The wizard Pentas had then teleported them away from danger. They had travelled a long distance under his spell, and once they had stopped, felt exhausted and ill. They had fallen asleep pretty much where Pentas’ magic had dropped them, too tired to prepare a fire or even to eat a cold supper.
Belwynn pushed herself up into a sitting position, rubbing her head which banged with pain. She looked around. Pentas had seemingly dropped them halfway up a hill. The trees which had surrounded them in the forest of the Grand Caladri were sparser here, while the ground beneath them was rocky; large chunks of stone littered the landscape about them.
Elana and Dirk were still asleep a few yards away. Rabigar wasn’t there. Belwynn supposed that he had gone to collect firewood or search for food. Her stomach grumbled at the thought.
So, Soren and the others had not made it. Perhaps Pentas had failed to reach them in time? They could be dead. A feeling of dread stabbed at Belwynn’s insides. She tried to reach her brother.
Soren. Soren?
A few moments of silence passed, but then there was a response.
Belwynn? Is that you?
It was Soren and he was alive. It was not easy to pick up what he was saying though. There was some kind of interference—more than the distance that separated them.
Yes, it’s me, Belwynn replied. Where are you?
Captured...must be careful. We defended the entrance to the Temple but Arioc himself came for us. We’re all alive, but they caught us. They’re taking us north, to Ishari or Haskany. They’ve got wizards monitoring me...must be careful.
There was a pause. Soren’s voice was thin, and Belwynn’s ability to pick up what he was saying varied, as if he were putting his hand over his mouth and taking it away again. Belwynn had experienced something similar once before, when her brother was with Delyth, the marsh witch.
Where are you? Soren continued. Did you get the staff?
Yes, we’ve got it. Pentas, the wizard with the red eyes, found us in the Temple. He told us we had to escape. He teleported us away. I don’t know where we are, but we’re safe. He said he would look for you—
Thank Toric you’re safe. It must have been too late for him to get to us. You must get the weapons to safety. Contact me again tomorrow when you’ve found out where you are. But we’ll have to keep it brief. It’s dangerous. Goodbye Belwynn.
Bye Soren, Belwynn answered.
She wanted to cry. Her brother and the others had been captured by Arioc and the Isharites. There was no way of knowing what would happen to them and she had no way to help—she didn’t even know where she was. She suddenly felt tired and alone. Gripping her head in her hands, she wiped away a tear that had started to fall with her palm. She had to control herself. She was in charge now. She would have to be strong.
A noise to her left made her turn sharply. It was Rabigar. He marched over and opened his arms, a pile of tree branche
s dropping on to the floor. He yanked at his belt and held up a brace of squirrels.
‘Breakfast,’ he declared.
Belwynn forced a smile. ‘Thank you, Rabigar. I’ve just spoken to Soren. He and the others were captured by Arioc. He said that they’re all alive and being transported northwards.’
Rabigar nodded. ‘I think that’s about the best we could hope for. If they’re being transported north, it means that Arioc wants them alive. He would have killed them otherwise. I’m sorry if that’s not much comfort.’
‘No, it’s fine. I know it could have been much worse. It’s just that the prospect of rescuing them is so daunting—we don’t even know where we are!’
‘Not entirely true,’ replied Rabigar. ‘I got a clear look at the stars last night. Pentas sent us in a north-westerly direction. I reckon we’re on the border between the Grand Caladri and Kalinth. Now, we’ll have to be careful. By all accounts the King of Kalinth is nothing more than a puppet of Erkindrix these days. But we’re not far from my homeland. If we make it there, the weapons will be safe. Then we can work out what to do about your brother and the others.’
That Rabigar had a plan, even if somewhat vague, was something for Belwynn to hang on to for now. He was taking the initiative, and Belwynn was grateful for that.
‘First things first, though,’ Rabigar continued. ‘We’ll get breakfast ready and try to wake those two up.’
They did not get far that day. The exhaustion caused by the events in Edeleny had not left their bodies. Dirk, in particular, was not well. He walked on in grim silence, as if all his concentration and energy were needed just to put one foot in front of the other. Belwynn gave him Onella’s Staff to lean on across the difficult terrain. Although Rabigar seemed to think that they were in Kalinth, the landscape in this region seemed to be a combination of the forests of the Grand Caladri, and the hilly country of the Krykkers. When Belwynn complained about this, Rabigar would point to the distant mountains to the south-west and claim that they were real hills, not these. Occasionally, when they crested a hill, they would get a glimpse of the Plain of Kalinth stretching away to the north, and though Belwynn disagreed with the Krykker that such a view made the climb worthwhile, she had to admit that it was a fine sight.
What they really missed were horses. On various mounts, they had travelled over half the length of Dalriya in the past two weeks. By comparison, walking pace seemed slow and laborious. Belwynn suspected that they had barely covered ten miles when they stopped to make their camp for the night.
When she woke the next morning, Rabigar had again been the first up. A small fire was already burning and chestnuts were being slowly cooked.
‘Are those edible?’ asked Belwynn suspiciously.
‘Yes. Sweet chestnuts. Horse chestnuts are the poisonous ones. Here,’ he said, pointing at them. ‘They have a little tail on the bottom. That’s how you tell you’ve got the right kind.’
He sounded more than a little pleased with himself.
I’ve been thinking about our position,’ Rabigar informed her as she sat up. ‘There is a trading town called Korkis, it should be about five miles west of here. I know it quite well. It picks up trade between Kalinth, the Krykkers, and occasionally the Grand Caladri as well. We could do with picking up some supplies and utensils. If I’m right, we should get there by lunchtime.’
Belwynn nodded. She was happy for Rabigar to make the decisions for now. Last night she and Soren had a very brief conversation, partly because he was worried they would be caught, partly because neither had anything new to say. Her brother and her friends were still being transported northwards. Part of her wanted to turn around and follow, but Soren insisted that she find a secure place for the two weapons before she did anything else.
‘Then what?’ she asked Rabigar, leaning over to the fire to inspect breakfast.
He pointed out a couple. ‘When the shell splits, they’re ready.’
Belwynn grabbed one. It was hot, too hot for her fingers, and she juggled it around in the air before letting it drop into her lap. She sucked on her fingers to cool them down. Rabigar looked on with a disappointed expression on his face.
‘Then we head south-west for my homeland. I don’t know what kind of reception I will get. But at the very least they will keep the Dagger and Staff safe. They may do more to help.’
He paused, studying her face, as if unsure whether to continue. ‘I’ve mentioned this to Elana already. The Krykkers have another of these weapons. In our Great Meeting Chamber, in the mountain of Kerejus. Bolivar’s Great Sword, which he used in the Battle of Alta.’
Belwynn nodded. She wondered why Rabigar hadn’t mentioned this before. She could tell that a part of him still had a loyalty towards his people, despite his years of exile. No doubt this sword was a great treasure.
‘How many years is it since you left?’ she asked.
Rabigar seemed to think about it.
‘Thirty. And then some.’
‘Do you ever miss it?’
‘I will always miss my home.’
It was said with such feeling that it stopped Belwynn from asking her next question. Why was he exiled? But Rabigar knew her thoughts.
‘You’re curious to know what happened?’ he asked her.
She shrugged. ‘A little.’
‘I will not tell you, Belwynn. It is no disrespect to you: it is a question of honour to me. It is a matter for my people only—not a story to be discussed by others. I have kept it to myself for all these thirty and more years. That is a long time. But I would have you understand one thing. I was a very different man then than I am now.’
His gaze drifted to the mountains of his homeland and a faraway look came to his face.
When Elana and Dirk were ready, they set off for the town of Korkis. They walked mostly in silence, everyone seemingly content in their own thoughts. For Belwynn, though, the morning walk began to make her feel lonely. She missed her brother. But she also missed the sharp asides of Herin, and Clarin’s calm, protective presence. She had come to value her three current companions, but was not close to any one of them. Belwynn began to dwell on her captured friends. She wanted to try to talk with Soren again, but since it could be dangerous for him, she resisted.
It was a long morning, made worse by grey clouds that blew in and deposited a constant drizzle; but by midday they were on a path heading towards Korkis. The town had been built on top of a hill, and as they got closer they could make out a wooden palisade encircling it. As they made their way up, Belwynn could make out the individual wooden stakes, buried into the ground and sharpened at the tip to make an effective barrier against an attacking force. The entrance to the town was through a formidable looking wooden gate, perhaps fifteen feet high, from where defenders could fire down at the enemy.
Today, the gate was wide open and there was a single guard on duty, who looked out at their approach with a lazy expression.
‘We’re here to buy some basic provisions,’ Rabigar shouted up.
The guard simply waved a hand to let them through, seemingly more than used to strangers arriving.
Once through the gate, there was an open plaza. A log built road led straight ahead towards the centre of the town. Wooden built shops and stalls were positioned on either side. A statue of a knight on horseback marked the central square. Because they had arrived at midday, the town was quite busy.
‘The number of people here makes it safer for us,’ said Rabigar, speaking under his breath as the four of them began to mingle with the crowd. ‘But there’s no point in staying any longer than we have to. I’ll get the cooking utensils, clothes and any other extras we need if you three get the food. We’ll meet up by the statue.’
Belwynn, Elana and Dirk soon found that oats were the most plentiful crop in this region. However, prices were still high, and Belwynn noticed that a number of the shoppers in Korkis looked hungry, prepared to buy damp bags of oats or old, shrivelled looking vegetables that in happier t
imes wouldn’t have been sold in the first place. As they moved from stall to stall, Belwynn picked up on the problems the merchants were encountering: trade from Haskany and Persala had all but dried up since Ishari had taken control; the produce which did arrive was mostly smuggled out. Very little arrived over the mountain routes from the Krykkers, while nothing came in from the Grand Caladri at all. There were even problems within Kalinth. A dispute between King Jonas and the Knights of Kalinth, along with rumours of Drobax raids, discouraged people from travelling too far.
After surveying the choice that was available, they agreed on what to buy. Oats could form the basis of a gruel, quick to prepare and full of energy, if rather dull to eat. They were able to supplement this with beans and vegetables, especially cabbage. A number of stalls sold pickled cabbage in clay jars, which would stay edible for weeks.
They found themselves fully supplied with food and waiting by the statue for Rabigar to return with the more complicated items. A number of armed guards walked about in twos and threes, dressed in brown leather with a spear and shield motif sewn on to their front jackets. Belwynn noticed how the people in the town shuffled out of the way at their approach and tried to avoid eye contact. The guards would sometimes stop off at a stall to help themselves to some of the food, while the stallholders looked away as if they hadn’t noticed. All in all, there was an unsettling atmosphere in the town. It seemed to Belwynn that with less to go round, the bullies of the community were making sure that they didn’t go hungry. Elana and Dirk seemed to sense it too. They were both very quiet and huddled down by the statue, as if the smaller they made themselves, the less they would be noticed.
Suddenly there was a disturbance a few stalls away from where Belwynn was standing. A young child was struggling in the grasp of a stall-holder. Peering over, Belwynn could see that it was a girl with close-cropped hair, perhaps about the age of seven. She was thin and hungry looking, but still seemed to think that she had a chance of escaping from her captor.
The Weapon Takers Saga Box Set Page 36
