The Fire Mages' Daughter
Page 34
Spinning round, I strode away, leaving the bodyguards and Arran to scamper in my wake. He soon caught up with me, tucking my arm into his and dazzling me with his smile as if nothing had happened.
I tried not to be disappointed in him. There might come a time when I would tire of his wandering eye. Maybe when the war was over, and we settled back into normal life, he would seem less appealing to me. Or perhaps one sun he would break my heart. But so many horrors had happened to me lately, and were still happening. Arran was the one fixed point in my life, and I clung to him as if I were drowning and he the only rock above water. I needed him, and I wasn’t going to allow anything to tear him away from me. Or anyone.
~~~~~
Two suns later, I was in a meeting with the commanders, trying to explain why it was that I could detect no trace of Ly-haam. They seemed to think I had a permanent connection to him, and although one or two muttered darkly that I was drawing him to Bennamore, mostly they just wanted to know where he was and when he would be returning. Neither were questions I could answer.
“Perhaps we should move on?” the Acting High Commander said, in his mild way. He always spoke quietly, but there was unquestioned authority in his voice.
“The next item for discussion is the state of the mages’ preparations,” the secretary said, marking his slate.
“We have no mage present,” one of the commanders muttered, his voice a deep rumble. “Again.”
“They are fully occupied creating spells,” I said. “I can speak for them, however. There are—”
Sunshine screeched, and I stopped, mouth flapping open. My stomach lurched. What had she seen? Were we under attack again? But no, I could feel no alarm in her. She seemed to be… amused.
I laughed, and the commanders gawped at me in astonishment.
“Are you quite well, Most Powerful?” said the Acting High Commander politely.
“Oh – yes. I beg your pardon, but my eagle is calling me. I must attend to her for a moment.”
I didn’t wait for a response, switching to the eagle’s mind. She was flying, still screeching, again in amusement, although mingled with pleasure at my presence. Then another noise, louder, screaming, not an eagle this time.
Her eyes showed me nothing at first. We were above the fortress, looking down at the wagon yard directly below. All the wagoners and stablehands were standing staring upwards, some pointing. But not at us. One of the other eagles came into view, and then the third—
There on its back was Cal, screaming with delight, swooping up and round, then diving down, then tilting at a sharp angle to swing round again.
Magic, it seemed, had done the trick.
“Mother will not be pleased,” I said, forgetting the commanders were there. They stared at me, eyebrows raised. One or two looked down at the table, embarrassed.
I giggled, hand over mouth, too entertained to care. Now we had another eagle rider.
~~~~~
Five suns later, the Blood Clans came back. I had no warning this time. It was a little after dawn, and we were just about to sit down to morning board in our rooms. The alarm bells sounded, heavy with foreboding, from the watchtowers, and then it was a mad scramble. Arran raced around collecting battle gear, while I tossed away my formal gown, and threw on practical trousers and tunic, and a heavy cloak. Then we tore up to the battlements, my bodyguards thumping along behind.
The Blood Clans were emerging from the black-bark forest again, flowing round the lake, exactly as before. I took a breath in relief. At least we knew how to deal with that. There was nothing new, no beasts larger or more bizarre than those we’d already seen, and the number appeared to be much the same. Many hundreds of them, but not comparable to our thousands.
There was just one difference. I couldn’t detect Ly-haam. Last time, his power had been as bright and powerful as the sun. I’d known where he was even with my eyes closed.
Now there was nothing. No sun, no ball of magic. No Ly-haam.
When I stretched my mind to its limits, I could just detect something, some faint trace of him, far away. But too far for me to take his power.
“Where is he?” Cal said, out of breath at my shoulder. “I don’t see him.”
“He’s not there.” I couldn’t hide the edge of panic in my voice.
Arran had been peering over the parapet, but now he turned sharply to stare at me. “What do you mean? He must be there. He is directing all this, surely.” He waved an arm to encompass the advancing army.
“I suppose he must be,” I whispered, “but I don’t know how. Because he’s not here. He’s far away. I can’t reach him.”
No one spoke. All around us captains barked orders, and soldiers drew swords and primed bows and lowered visors. The mages spaced themselves around the parapet to hurl spells at anyone attempting to enter the fortress.
Below us on the road, lines of pikes and spears and glimmering swords filed out of the fortress to defend the route to Kingswell. Wagons filled with oiled hay ready for firing were pulled out. Expert archers took up high vantage points on the rocky slopes beyond the road. There was only a narrow gap where the road passed between fortress and hill, easy to defend. A wall of uniforms blocked it.
A thousand souls, armed, trained and ready. All of them ready to die in the defence of Bennamore. All of them believing they wouldn’t have to, because I would neutralise the boy god and render the enemy harmless.
And I could do nothing.
This time, the great birds kept well away from the fortress. They circled far to the west, while our three screamed in anger at them. And the beasts on the ground kept coming, flooding up the hill to the ditch. There they paused, while the massive claws of the running birds demolished the bank and filled in the ditch. It didn’t take long, this time. As soon as there was a way open, they flooded through, the lions leading the way and the rest of the strange array of mounts following, pushing and shoving in their eagerness.
I gazed down at them, scanning every lion in case Ly-haam was there, and I’d missed him. But no, these were all muscled men, well-armed and fit for battle.
The defenders stood, first the pikes, then the spears, with swords and bows further back. So brave, so steady, not a single soldier wavered in the face of the enemy bearing down on them.
“Why aren’t the mages doing anything?” I yelled to Cal. “I don’t see any firestones. Why aren’t they using their spells?”
“If we throw firestones, we’ll kill our own people, too,” he said. “And they’re too far away for the sleep spells, at least, for most of us. Your mother’s hitting a few.”
Magic had failed us. I turned away. It was unbearable to watch, to be so helpless. I couldn’t avoid hearing, though. The thunderous collision of two armies, the clash of metal on metal, the thuds and yells, and the screams of the beasts. And then the screams of men and women, cut down, or trampled, or speared, or torn apart by claws or teeth.
The thunder rolled on. The army of beasts, of wild men and wilder mounts, driven by madness, rolled over our brave Bennamorian army entirely. When I dared to look again, the road was littered with the fallen, some screaming in agony, many silent and still. The road was a red river of blood.
And far away, the Clansmen raced on towards Kingswell.
36: The Keep
I was paralysed with despair. I was vaguely aware of my mother, her shocked face a mirror of my own. Cal had his arms round her, but there was no comfort for any of us. How could there be? A thousand men and women cut down where they stood, their skill insignificant against the magically powered determination of the enemy.
All around the battlements, swords and bows drooped, unneeded. Visors lifted to reveal horrified faces. A few glanced at me, then away again. I understood. The failure was mine.
I bowed my head, too stricken even for tears.
Cal’s voice jerked me back to reality. “We must warn them.”
“What? Who?”
“Kingswell. If we fly fast
we can get there before them. There will be time to—” He stopped. Time to do what? Was there any defence we could mount against such an enemy. He bit his lip, realising the futility.
But perhaps there was still something we could do. “Time to evacuate the city,” I said. “Time to seal the Keep. No one has ever breached the walls. Anyone inside will be safe, at least. I will go.” I called to Sunshine.
“We will all go,” Cal said firmly.
“All?”
“You, me and Kyra.”
Mother gasped. “No! Absolutely not! I can’t… I’ve never… on an eagle? Cal, no, I couldn’t!”
“You must,” he said, his vivid eyes boring into her. “Who else can stand against them?”
“I’m needed here. There are people badly injured down there.” She pointed to the road below. Even from here we could hear the cries of pain.
“There are plenty of mages who can heal. But no one else can do what you can, Kyra. No one else can summon magic instantly, on a thought, with no preparation, as you can. And Drina can take these people’s magic, if she can get close enough. You must both go. And I will go too. Drina, bring your mother’s eagle over here.”
She fell silent. The three eagles flapped across to us, and Cal began showing Mother how to ride. Her face was sheet-white, but she listened and nodded and cautiously stroked her eagle’s head.
Arran stood nearby, watching me, sword sheathed, helmet under one arm.
“I wish you could fly with me,” I said.
He crossed the space between us in two strides. “I wish it too, my darling, more than anything. I cannot bear to see you go without me, and into such danger.”
“You’re not free of danger here. There may be more of them in the forest.”
“Then we will keep out of their way. Take care, and stay inside the Keep. You will be safe there.” He wrapped me in his arms, but gently, so as not to squash me against his armoured coat. “Farewell for now, my love.”
I couldn’t speak. If I didn’t say the words, somehow it wouldn’t be a parting, we would still be together in some indefinable way. To say goodbye to him would sever that cord, and perhaps I would never see him again, and how could I bear that? In all the endless nightmare we had sunk into, and the unknown horrors still to come, losing Arran was still a prospect too dreadful to contemplate.
Then Cal was calling me, his voice urgent, he and Mother already mounted, waiting. With a last touch to Arran’s anxious face, I ran to my own eagle. She crouched for me to mount her, and almost before I had the thought, she launched herself into the sky. Below me, Cal and Mother became airborne too. We circled around once, my eye fixed on Arran’s pale, upturned face.
Then we began the journey to Kingswell.
~~~~~
We flew hard and fast. The Clans would be on the road, so we veered a little to the east over the fringes of the wetlands. Far to our right was the smudge in the sky that marked the cloud of birds flying above the Clans. They took no notice of us, even though they could undoubtedly see us. Eagles have exceptional eyesight.
After an hour or two, we turned back towards the road. Now the Clans were behind us, travelling more slowly. Some of their beasts, like the lions and running birds, were very fast on the ground, but the great armoured creatures were slow, and the whole group must move at their lumbering pace.
This far north there were few villages and no towns. Some small settlements nestled in the forests or crouched in gentle valleys in the rolling hills, but they were far off the road, and therefore safe. But after two or three more hours, we began to come across villages on the road itself. We couldn’t leave them unprepared for the arrival of the Clan army. Either Cal or I would swoop down into the central square, yell a warning, and leave again as soon as we could.
We gave them a simple message. “The Blood Clans are coming! Evacuate! Leave everything and run!”
It was fortunate that news of my ability to fly an eagle had travelled widely. No one questioned my identity, and no one raised a bow against the eagles.
But we could not make them leave. Some villages responded at once, sounding the alarm bell, and gathering everyone together for an orderly departure. But others collected in huddles to discuss the news, and decide how best to respond. I could only hope they made a decision in time.
As we drew nearer to Kingswell, we encountered towns, and they were easier to rouse. We had only to land on the watchtower on the main square, give the watchers our message and fly off. The sonorous tones of the alarm bell faded behind us into the distance.
Then, at last, we were in sight of Candle Mountain, and the Imperial City tucked into its arms. Below it, the red stone of the Keep, and the sprawl of Kingswell itself, with its thousands of inhabitants. So many people! They could not all be accommodated in the Keep, but would it be possible to evacuate them in time?
We landed on the roof of the Keep close to dusk. Poor Mother! Cal and I had to help her off her eagle, for her legs were almost frozen in place. There had been no time to find warmer clothes for her, we’d just had to hope that her magic would keep her warm. So it had, but she was exhausted, stiff and sore from the long hours motionless.
“Don’t you ever ask me to do anything of that kind again,” she muttered, leaning against the parapet for support.
Several large shapes loomed out of the darkness.
“Raise your hands and do not move!” a male voice called in harsh tones. “There are crossbows aimed at you.”
I’d forgotten the extra guards posted on the roof to watch for intruders. One eagle would not have surprised them, but with three, we were lucky they hadn’t shot on sight.
“I am Most Powerful Axandrina,” I called back hastily. “With me are Lady Mage Kyra and Lord Mage Cal. We bring urgent news from the northwestern border.”
“Most Powerful?” The voice was softer now, less aggressive. “Brellor, some light here, if you please.”
A lamp was uncovered, dazzling in the deep gloom.
“Ah, your pardon, Most Powerful, Lady Mage, Lord Mage. We are all a little twitchy just now.”
“I am grateful the twitching did not extend to the crossbows,” I said, and when he flipped up his visor, I caught the hint of a smile. “If you wouldn’t mind, my mother is exhausted.”
It was the work of a moment for one of the men to scoop Mother up. While she was carried down to the mages’ house, Cal and I went in search of Yannassia.
She was at evening board, and to my astonishment, the steward would have prevented me from entering.
“My deepest apologies, Most Powerful,” he murmured. “The Most Powerful Lady Yannassia is entertaining privately this evening. She gave explicit instructions that she is not to be disturbed.”
“Explicit—? What nonsense! Stand aside at once, Bellerand, or I shall ask the mage to sleep spell you. All of you!” I added, as the door guards took a step nearer. “When the war leader arrives unannounced from the scene of battle, you may be very sure the matter is important.”
I wasn’t certain that Cal could produce sleep spells instantly, but the threat of it did the trick. The steward opened the doors and would have led us into the room, except that I pushed impatiently past him.
The problem was immediately apparent. The private entertaining was for Shallack Gurshmonta and his closest allies. There they sat, resplendent in silk and lace and gold thread and a dazzling array of jewels, a gathering of all the most devious of the nobles. At the head of the table, in one of her best gowns, Yannassia, hand in hand with Torthran. Around her throat, scores of emeralds winked at me from a necklace I’d never seen before. On a side table, a multitude of rich gifts, partially unwrapped.
But it was the food that irked me most. I had fled from the dawn massacre, flying all the hours of sun to ensure Kingswell was warned in time. I was exhausted, heart-sick and, I now realised, starving. I’d eaten nothing since the previous evening. And here they were feasting and drinking and making merry. The table groaned with
silver dishes and crystal decanters. I could barely tear my eyes from the heaped platters of meat, as the appetising aromas assaulted my nose.
The chatter died down and they all stared at my mud-spattered cloak and boots as if the stable cats had dragged me in.
“Drina?” Yannassia’s tone was chilly. “What is the meaning of this? If you bring news from the border, you may discuss it with the commanders. If it is important, they will bring it to my attention at the meeting tomorrow.”
I gaped at her, bewildered. “If it is important? Do you really think I would have flown this far to reach you if it were not important?”
To my astonishment, it was Shallack Gurshmonta who answered, with a little laugh. “Let us be honest, Highness, your judgement on such matters is not always to be depended on.” He looked around the table at his companions, smiling, and they nodded in approval.
Beside me, Cal made a low noise in his throat, like a growl, but he said nothing.
Shallack leaned back in his chair, a glass of ruby wine in one bejewelled hand. “You come tearing in here as if all the demons of the earth were on your tail, disrupting our celebration, and distressing the Drashona with your wildness. You look like a goose girl rather than a Drashonor and war leader, Highness, and your mage friend is no better.” His friends laughed behind their hands, and he turned to Yannassia. “You could not have a more perfect example of all we have discussed, Most Powerful.”
Anger boiled up in me like a volcano. It was too much to bear, after all we had been through, to have these imbeciles sitting at leisure and sharpening their wit at my expense. I could not ignore it.
I swirled round the table to Shallack’s chair, and bent down so my face was a handspan away from his. “Do you not know that we are at war, you ignorant man? Do you not understand that some things are more important than fine clothes and protocol? Yes, I daresay I look like a goose girl, and you look like a stuffed peacock, and your friends look like painted dolls, and here you are eating and drinking as though everything is normal. It will never be normal again! Do you understand?”