Unclean
Page 29
“And women,” Hana added, vice sharp.
“And women,” Barr acknowledged with a nod.
“You don't think one of the Free is worth ten Citizens?” his father asked with a savage grin.
Barr smiled. “Of course, I do. But that will be more men than we have faced at once in a generation.”
“Keep in mind that all of our fighters have wands, while only five percent of theirs are wizards,” Keegan countered. “And their men will be mostly conscripts, and mostly too young to have fought in the last war. We could mow them down like grass.”
“We also have one thing they don't,” Silas added. They looked at him expectantly, and he cocked his head toward Shiloh.
“We have her.”
Silas squinted in the brightness of the summer sun. Solstice was just behind them, and if Barr’s expression was any indication, it seemed their time of peace was at an end.
“There are men stationed at all the passes out of the valley as well as on the other side of the tunnel behind Waterfall Gate,” Barr reported, eyes grim. “They are testing the defenses, but they seem to be in no hurry. They haven’t breached any of the wards as yet. That boy and his mother told them exactly where to go, warned those men of all the traps. Filthy traitors.”
“Whose men, exactly?” Silas demanded. “The ones we expected?”
“Aye. Blackmine’s are at the main pass. A large group with young Lord Redwood is on the other side of the waterfall,” Barr reported. “Are you truly certain he is reliable?”
Silas laughed, drawing a quizzical look from Barr. “The Lord of the Wood is madly in love with your sister,” Silas explained.
Barr looked skeptical. “You don’t think he could have turned on Shiloh? Over you, perhaps? Or for promised wealth from the crown? Or perhaps another pretty face has turned his head?”
“No. The poor boy has a terminal case,” Silas assured him. “Your father and I will bring him through the tunnel tonight to parley with Shiloh. You can meet him and judge for yourself if you like.”
“He could still be a threat to you. Maybe he plans to help her and kill you for good measure,” Barr pointed out.
“Maybe,” Silas shrugged. “I do have it coming. But that’s not important. What matters is that he will help Shiloh do what needs to be done, and he will not threaten the safety of your people here in Freehold.”
“When do you think the battle will come?” Barr asked.
“You know better than I how long Freehold’s ward barriers will last,” Silas answered. “What do you think?”
Barr cocked his head. “Two days. Maybe three.” He eyed a grinning Silas. “You’re actually looking forward to this, aren’t you?”
Silas shrugged. “What can I say? I’m the sort of man who needs a curse to cast and a banner to follow. There’s no use pretending otherwise.”
“My Lord Redwood!” Silas greeted Daved, reaching out to clasp the boy’s hand. He found, to his surprise, that Daved had surpassed his own height since last they had seen one another.
“My Lord Northgate,” Daved replied with a grin. “Glad to see you outside a cell.”
“Not as glad as I am,” Silas countered. “And Gare! It is a relief to see you in one piece. Is my sister well? Have you made an honest woman of her yet?”
Gare bowed to his old master. “Indeed, my lord, indeed. My apologies for holding the wedding without you. It seemed imprudent to wait after Lady Northgate, rather, Her Grace, was arrested.”
“Of course, of course. And Lill is happy and safe?”
“Yes, at Castle Redwood, thanks to Lord Redwood’s kind hospitality.” A twinkle came into Gare’s eye. “Of course, she could do with a bit more sleep, what with the wee one keeping her up at nights.”
Silas laughed aloud. “No? A baby? When did this happen?”
“He was born three months back. We called him Silas. I hope that meets with your approval, my lord,” Gare answered.
“I can think of no greater honor, brother,” Silas replied, still grinning. “Oh, the girls will be thrilled when word reaches them in Estany. They always clambered for a brother.”
“Good to see you, Daved,” Lord Mosspeak declared, clapping Daved on the shoulder. “I can’t believe it! You’re a man grown.”
“Nearly, my lord,” Daved answered. His eyes searched behind them.
“She’s waiting on the other side,” Silas told him, having mercy on the lad. “She is anxious to see you.”
A flash of a smile brightened Daved’s face.
“Oh, I have a letter for you, Lord Northgate. From your sister,” Daved said, feeling about his pockets.
“Thank you, my lord. And thank you for protecting her. I owe you a tremendous debt,” Silas replied, bowing deeply. “May I ask, is there word of Jane, Shiloh’s maid? Her Grace has been worried.”
Gare spoke up to assure him, “She is right as rain. She begged to come along, but I forbade it. An army is no place for a young girl.”
“Oh, splendid,” Silas said. “This news will be a great comfort to Her Grace. Lord Redwood, would you be so kind as to give Lord Mosspeak a bit of a briefing on the state of your army before your reunion with the queen?”
Daved straightened his back and arranged his face into a suitably serious expression. Silas hid his amusement at the boy’s attempt to look more adult. “Aye, my lord,” Daved answered, and he and Mosspeak disappeared into his tent.
Silas turned to Gare. “I’d like a report from you, if you please. How has the march gone?”
“Better than I would have thought, my lord,” his old steward said. “I was afraid the men wouldn’t respect the young lord, but I’ve only had to cane a very few. We did have to hang a rapist, but I don’t think his crime has been repeated. We quietly took care of the obvious spies along the way. Lots of opportunity for ‘accidents’ on the ascent.”
“Good man,” Silas replied. “We must assume that you missed one or two, just in case, but well done.” He bent closer and lowered his voice. “And Lord Redwood . . . he is still firmly on Shiloh’s side?”
Gare nodded. “Oh, yes, my lord. I would stake my life on it.”
“We all do,” Silas answered with a sideways smile.
“You look well, my lord. I was worried that prison might have taken a toll,” Gare observed.
“It did, but time heals,” Silas confessed.
“And Her Grace?”
“Her captivity was crueler, I’m afraid,” Silas admitted, “but she seems much better than she did last summer. With the exception of having to adjust to her change in station.”
“She does not welcome her spectacular rise?” Gare asked.
Silas shook his head. “Not particularly. But she is prepared to shoulder the burden.”
Gare smiled. “That is no surprise. You should have seen her during the Red Fever, my lord. An avenging angel, she was.”
“No doubt,” Silas laughed.
“Is it true she came roaring in on a flying horse when she broke you out of prison?” Gare asked.
Silas’s eyes twinkled. “Oh, yes. It was quite something to behold after eight months in that little room. I thought I had finally gone mad.”
“Oh, I wish I could have seen it!”
“Not to worry, Gare. You’re not going to believe your eyes when you see what she’s come up with this time.”
“Daved!” Shiloh cried. “I feared I’d never see you again!”
Daved splashed his way to the edge of the stream where Shiloh waited. Keegan, Silas, and three of Keegan’s most trusted men had brought Daved through the passage behind the waterfall. Lord Mosspeak had remained on the other side with the conscripts to keep order on Daved’s behalf. Many of the men were from the Southlands, Mosspeak’s province, recruited by Daved on the way to the Teeth, and they seemed pleased to see that their lord was still alive and well.
“I was terrified those priests would kill you, Shiloh,” Daved responded. “I don’t know how I could have borne it.”r />
Shiloh embraced Daved fiercely, then looked up at him in disbelief. “You’ve grown a foot!” she exclaimed, shocked at his newfound height and broad shoulders. She now barely came up to his chest. “Are those whiskers?”
He stepped back and bowed. “Indeed. Forgive me, Your Grace,” he apologized for his informality.
“Oh, not you, too! Enough of that nonsense.”
“Your Grace, if you don’t behave like you think you’re the queen, how do you expect anyone else to believe it?” Daved asked, as he stood upright.
“He’s not wrong, Your Grace,” Silas pointed out. He’d been watching the heartfelt reunion with what he considered the forbearance of a saint.
Evening was beginning to fall, and Shiloh pulled her cloak around her and sat next to Daved on a log. Silas stood at a discreet distance, but well within earshot.
“How are you?” Shiloh asked. She handed him a flagon of ale from a picnic basket she had assembled.
“Well enough, Your Grace,” he replied. He took a sip. “Court has been difficult, indeed. I’ve hardly been able to focus at all on my studies.” He shook his head. “Before Esta died, the relationship between the royal couple was obviously, painfully cold. I almost felt sorry for her. She tried so hard to keep his favor, to no avail. And I had to pretend to know nothing after Silas told me what happened to Loor. I had to find a way to look at her without showing the disgust in my eyes.”
“I’m sorry, Daved. You’ve borne a terrible burden all alone.”
“Nothing compared to yours, Your Grace. I always liked Esta well enough, you know, when we were small, but her death came as a relief,” Daved confessed.
“And how are things with Westan?” Shiloh asked.
“Westan likes me, I think because of my father’s closeness to the Patriarch, and because I speak Gernish. So he trusted me to come here. He trusts me more than Esta did, that much was obvious. I made a point of paying attention to her, which she enjoyed, but there was always a tinge of something when she looked at me.”
“Esta was smart enough to remember our friendship, I imagine,” Shiloh replied.
“I wrote poems to other girls, had a fling or two, tried to make my devotion seem like a boyhood folly long forgotten.” He smiled a crooked smile. “Which, of course, it is not.”
Shiloh looked down at her hands. “You know that Lord Northgate and I . . . we have been living as husband and wife despite the Patriarch’s annulment.”
It was Daved’s turn to look down at his hands. “I know. But I can afford to wait a while before I wed. Maybe he’ll get killed in a blaze of glory, and you’ll turn to me for comfort.” He glanced her way and winked, and she burst into laughter.
Shiloh took his hand. “You are managing the men? They don’t try you, for your youth?”
“A few, here and there, but my work during the wildfires last year convinced my people of my mettle, it seems. And Gare, your old Steward, has come along to help me. The new Lord of the Frontier fired him straight away, and he came south with Lill and Jane.”
“Oh, thank the Gods!”
“And Lord Kepler lent me some good, experienced knights. Found a few in the Southlands as well. They’ll obey when we turn on Westan. The Gernish are not loved,” he assured her. “I may not be the Hatchet, but I am hard enough when required, these days,”
She nodded. “Tomorrow, we likely fight Blackmine. The day after that, we start marching toward the City.”
“I know. I’m ready. So are you.”
“I wish that I could ride with you on the descent, but Lord Northgate and I must lead whatever of Blackmine’s army I can recruit to our cause,” Shiloh complained. “By the time we get back to the main road, you will be days ahead of us.”
“You’ll catch up to us at Fountain Bluff,” Daved assured her. “And sooner than you think, we will be back at Greenhill together.”
“From your mouth to the Gods’ ears.”
Long Live the Queen
Shiloh used the edge of her headscarf to wipe the sweat out of her eyes. She succeeded mostly in smearing grit on her cheek. They had been at work in the mine since sunrise, and it was hours yet until sunset. Not that she could see the sun, as she was working deep in the mineshaft, breaking rock.
It required both magical power and skill, skill she had learned at Edmun’s side over the years. Now, at age twelve, she was trusted to do the work unsupervised using one of Edmun’s wands. The foreman overlooked the fact that she wasn’t supposed to be working magic given the increase in progress she achieved.
She had to find the weak spots in the rock wall and carefully calibrate her spells lest she cause a cave-in. Nevertheless, it was much safer than using a fire’s heat to crack the rock, as there was no danger of smoke and fumes being trapped in the shaft due to faulty ventilation.
Just as she was about to cast her next spell, someone grabbed her by the shoulder. She turned, knowing things must be bad if someone had deigned to touch her. She removed the ward she had cast over her ears to spare herself the din of the pick-axes.
“Brother Edmun said to hurry. The other shaft has caved in,” the man shouted.
Shiloh’s heart nearly stopped. Da is in there today.
She ran, slipping past the burly men between her and the open air, then sprinting across the loading yard to the entrance of the other mineshaft. Her terror evaporated when she caught sight of her father standing next to Edmun, who was tending a profusely bleeding wound on Poll’s forehead.
“He’s going to be fine,” Edmun assured her without looking up from his work. “Work on clearing the shaft so we can get to the people trapped down there.”
“No,” the foreman insisted. “Back to work in Shaft 2. Shaft 1 is almost played out. Not worth the lost time to clear the debris.”
Edmun turned to him with disgust. “There are a dozen men down there unaccounted for, from three different villages.”
“And what do ye reckon Lord Blackmine thinks a dozen Teethtrash are worth?” the foreman countered.
“If ye hadn’t told ‘em to stop puttin’ up cross-braces, it wouldna happened in the firs’ place,” Poll declared.
The foreman raised his truncheon. “Ye might be too big to beat on, but yer freak of a daughter isn’t, so shut yer trap.” He turned to Shiloh to order, “Back to breakin’ rocks, girl.”
Tears of anger in her eyes, Shiloh looked to Edmun and her father, who both nodded that she should obey. She turned to leave, shaking with fury.
“That goes for all of ye!” the foreman cried, looking around at the gathering crowd. “Get into Shaft 2 and make quota or I’ll make ye wish ye had!”
Silas listened to Shiloh vomit up her breakfast. Before that, she had spent an hour on her knees in prayer. He couldn’t imagine what could possibly take an hour to say to the Gods, but he had not dared interrupt.
Silas held her hair out of the way and thought back to his first real battle, the way the anxiety had roiled his stomach and made his hands shake. He imagined it must be worse for Shiloh, since the army they would face this day had come for her, since the men who died this day would die beneath her banner, hers and the banner of the Free.
Heavy is the head . . .
Gret had made Shiloh’s pennant: a silver hook on a pink field. The wandmaker had fashioned her helmet and mail. Silas and Keegan had made the battle plan, with Mosspeak’s able help. All was in readiness, as much as was possible.
He handed Shiloh a mug of water, and she rinsed out her mouth.
“You will be magnificent, Shiloh. You always are,” he assured her.
She favored him with a weak smile. “I bet you didn't have to do this for Alissa,” she asserted.
He shook his head. “No, but Edmun did, at the beginning, and Keegan reassured her later. We’re all only human, Shiloh. Remember, Blackmine came here. You did not seek this out. He and his men will lay waste to this place if we don't stop him. Rape. Murder. Pillaging. You know that. Come, my love. Your Grace. It’s
time.”
She stood and squared her narrow shoulders beneath her ensorcered jacket, the thickly quilted leather filled with protective charms and covered with a layer of steel mail. She took her helmet from Silas and sat it firmly upon her head, securing the strap beneath her chin before turning to speak.
“Let's go save Freehold.”
Blackmine’s men never had a chance. When they poured through the pass, hundreds of Feralfolk and Shiloh’s creations awaited them. The help they expected from Redwood's men would never come.
Shiloh’s armor glinted in the bright sunshine, her gleaming helmet encircled with a narrow strip of rose gold. The dragon shone equally bright beneath her, and the goggles of smoked glass over her eyes robbed her face of any sign of pity for her foes. At a signal from Silas, she took to the air and flew low and fast over the heads of her soldiers, a cheer rising from the men in response.
Blackmine’s blue banners fluttered in the breeze alongside the royal coat of arms and the flags of Gerne and Bryn. Shiloh could just make out the sound of bugles. The enemy sent up their own war cry. It turned to screams of fear when they noticed the metallic beast charging toward them overhead.
The dragon of steel swooped down upon the enemy and belched one roar of flame, and half the men fell to their knees in surrender. The officers on their beautiful war horses struggled to force the men back onto their feet. Those who retained the presence of mind to fight sent curses and arrows skyward, where they bounced harmlessly off of Shiloh’s wards, enhanced as they were by the steel she rode upon.
Behind Shiloh trailed a flock of artificial birds, hundreds of them, casting shade upon the field of battle. With a flick of her wand, she directed them beneath her. With her murmured spell, they closed their wings and dove, hexes erupting from their sharply pointed beaks of steel. She aimed for those in Gernish livery, more reluctant to strike down her own countrymen. Most of the initial curses merely battered their wards, but the magical avian assault commanded all of the enemy’s attention, leaving the soldiers nearly helpless against the ensuing ground assault by the fighters of the Free.