by Meg Cowley
“Let him down,” she ordered. The men complied without delay and soon her father stood, held up by two of his guards. He was as haggard and drawn as ever. “Come, Eve, we must leave.”
“I cannot,” she said to him. “In your stead, I am the Lady of Arlyn, and I must see everyone safe.” She drew close to him. “I am protected, do not worry,” she breathed into his ear. She prayed the wards would hold, and that they would do as she asked. They encircled not only her, but every living thing within Arlyn’s walls, drawing upon the power of nature to sustain them.
“Be safe, my little dove.”
She pecked him on the cheek, and nodded to his escort. “Quickly, now. Take Lord Karn to safety. Ensure no-one you encounter is left behind. Go.”
She turned away, surveying who else was in the courtyard. Luke aided his mother across the hard ground. Eve strode across to them, and greeted Luke with a sharp nod. “You know what you must do?”
“I do.” Luke was equally grim. It was Luke’s task to escort the people of Arlyn to the caves and protect them from harm.
“Keep them safe.”
“I will.”
They shared a long look with much unspoken, but it was time to part; Eve had a different task. She swallowed and turned away.
There was no time to watch as her father was led away, or as Luke shepherded people down the quickest path. Eve mounted Alia without delay and rode for the town with the few guards who had insisted on her need for protection.
Arlyn was already well alight as she rode from the courtyard; the high walls protected the castle from the winds, but they also hid the town from view. She could hear no screams, because the roar of the inferno, and something much worse, drowned out all else.
Eve fought back the rising panic that clawed through her with memories of that terrible night of Ednor. It’s real. They’re here.
She could not help but pause under the shadow of the gates in awe and terror before her. Dragons, illuminated by sickly orange light from below, dove upon the town, wreathing it in jets of flames that instantly ignited whatever they touched. After a moment of hesitation, Eve forced down her panic, and rode for the walls where Hoarth awaited.
Hoarth indeed stood atop the walls, sweating in the heat as waves of scalding air rolled off the growing inferno.
“Nock! Release! Nock! Release!” his command rolled down the line of archers upon the walls. They loosed quick successions of arrows, peppering the dragons, but their volleys soared away into the dark, and skittered harmlessly off dragon scales. Eve took only a moment to appraise the situation. Hopeless. “Captain, order a retreat.”
“I protest, my lady! We cannot abandon the town.”
“What would you have me do?” she snapped. “Our arrows are clearly of no use. We cannot fight them with swords—we cannot fight them at all. Sound the retreat. The town is lost, and our people must be our priority. We can rebuild a town, but we cannot bring back the dead.”
Hoarth failed to hide his scowl, but saluted her and signalled for a retreat.
“How many are dead?” Eve asked, as archers just about managed to form an orderly scramble off the wall.
“None of mine yet,” replied Hoarth, as he and Eve filed from the wall last of all. “Report!”
“One.”
“Two.”
“Three.”
His archers replied by number, until Hoarth was satisfied they were all present. “By some miracle, we are alive yet, though some bear injuries,” he said with gritted teeth.
Eve hid a small smile. Perhaps, my wards work after all. “That is lucky beyond measure,” she said. “Fall back to the caves, now. Conduct a sweep of the town and bring any stragglers with you.”
Hoarth snapped a salute and bellowed at his men to form up. In seconds, they had disappeared into the chaos.
Now, with no one to distract her, the panic rose again as Eve realised how far the fires had spread, how tall they towered and how close they were. She fought to keep her breathing steady and push aside the rising panic that inexorably crawled through her.
She closed her eyes for a moment, but that made it worse. All too suddenly, she was aware of the heat pressing in from all sides. Beside her, Alia whinnied and pranced, with the whites of her eyes rolling and her mouth frothing. She tugged at her halter with increasing strength.
“Woah, girl, woah.” Eve rushed to sooth her. “Not long, girl. Nearly safe, girl,” she said, as much to Alia as to herself. She mounted Alia and untied her, gesturing to the guards who waited still in the saddle for her. “Come, we’ll do one last sweep through the main streets.” The side streets would be overtaken by fire by now, she knew. She shuddered at the thought of burning debris raining down on them.
Squeezing her heels into Alia, her house bolted forward, needing no encouragement, and only Eve’s confident and steady hands kept her under control as they raced through the town. Thatched roofs burned merrily as far as the eye could see, and slate roofs cracked under the heat, already caving in. Shutters were blown out and doors were gaping maws into fiery bellied homes. The air was scalding hot and choking with ash, smoke, and debris, and floating specks created pockmarks of black on their garments. Eve could not help but notice when they alighted on her hair and skin. They caused no damage or pain.
The ward is working, she realised with relief. Smoke blocked any hint of the night sky. They could see nothing, but the roars of dragons wheeling above them, and the ear-splitting spontaneous combustion of their fiery jets igniting the town were deafening. They were not safe yet.
They rode on through the empty streets, meeting more stragglers the closer they got to the old mines. Eve and her men chivvied them on urgently, sacrificing their horses for those more in need. Alia was soon burdened with an old woman and two children whilst Eve ran on foot beside her. Eve’s men followed suit.
Shingle beaches met them on the far side of the town, where it gave way to the still and calm waters of the lake. Standing in contrast to the chaos behind them, The lake was glass still and as peaceful as any other night. The night sky was clear and bright here; the moonlight cool in contrast to the dirty orange at their backs. This was the most exposed part. Eve looked back towards the town, hoping the wall of smoke would shield them for long enough.
They straggled in silence; a long, gangly line, around the shore of the lake, until they reached the small pricks of black in the cliff face that signalled the old mine workings. Into the dark, dank cave they went, ushered by Eve and her guards, down into the black bowels of the earth. It was lit further in where the light could not be seen from outside, and it was far more welcoming, with friendly, though fearful, faces waiting.
Men lined the passage, offering reassurances and direction to those who entered. Many were hysterically sobbing or in silent shock. Eve followed and was last of all to reach the large cave that the mines snaked off. It was warm, dry, and well lit; and safe, thanks to her instruction. Newly cut wood lined it, shoring and doubly shoring areas to make certain they were safe.
Her people were not quiet, but neither did they talk. Instead, a fearful murmur echoed and whispers chased around the cavernous space; a thousand voices of worry for every one. Some had already begun the process of salving and bandaging burns and cuts with whatever they had to hand.
As Eve moved through them, they greeted her with deference and many clasped her hands, muttering fervent thanks. She smiled back at them with smiles as hollow and scared as their own, whilst laying a gentle hand on a shoulder, head or hand as she passed. Now they understand the danger of which I spoke, she thought, though she wished it had not come to pass. She had never wanted to be proven right less.
Her father greeted her with relief. Set aside from most, he had relative privacy. She greeted him, but moved on, searching the grubby faces until with relief, she spied Luke. Relief blossomed in her chest and she rushed over to clasp hands with him for the briefest moment. Even in her fear, his mother gave her the smallest of smiles before her
brows scrunched and her mouth twisted once more in concern.
“Thank goodness you’re both well,” said Eve.
“And you,” said Luke. She could hear the fervour in his voice, and longed to sit and rest, but it was not over yet.
“I must go back. I must see if there is anyone else,” she said, careful to not be overheard.
“You cannot go back out there,” Luke hissed. “It would be madness!”
“I have no choice. I could not live with myself if any were harmed.”
“I’m coming with you, then.” Luke scrambled to his feet.
“You should not leave your mother.”
“Go with her,” said Nora sternly.
Eve smiled, grateful, and squeezed Nora’s hand in thanks before they left the strange homeliness of the cave and dove back into the cold, dark, and choking night. From their vantage point across the lake, it was clear to see that Arlyn was devastated, or it would be, by the time the fires had burnt out. The tower of fire and smoke reached as far as they could see into the sky, and the entire town was alight, it seemed.
There could still be people trapped. She had no way of knowing, but her conscience would not let her rest. What if the ward fails? Those inside the caves had had miraculous escapes, whether they realised it or not yet, but she could not be sure how long the protection would last.
As they prepared to mount to return to the town, darkness swept over them, blotting out all light. A dragon as big as the sky soared over them, wheeling back towards the town. With a screech, it burst a jet of flame into the air.
Eve shrank back into the shadows of the cave.
“It’s not safe,” said Luke grimly, moving back into the shadows too and sheltering her with his body; his instincts taking over. “We cannot go. They will see us.”
He was right, Eve hated to admit. If any lived out there, Eve would have to trust to her wards that they would find safety.
~
It felt like an age until the cold, grey light of day arrived, and with it, silent apprehension of what lay outside. A sleepless, never ending night filled with the sound of crackling, spitting and roaring of fire, and the hiss of the rains that eventually came was a nightmarish lullaby.
Eve was first to venture back to Arlyn. Fires burned plentifully, though the worst was over. Stone houses were piles of rubble on the ground, and wooden buildings nothing more than charred ruins. The dragons at least, were gone.
Eve sent for all those who were fit and able to come from the caves. Immediately, lines were set up to pass water along to dampen the fires, in whatever vessels could be salvaged. It was a lengthy, tiring process. Fires burnt out before they could be put out, but it needed to be done.
Whilst they busied themselves with that, Luke was in charge of accounting for all the townsfolk. Of all its residents, only five were unaccounted for, presumed dead. Eve said a silent prayer, grateful for her ward, which undoubtedly saved a huge number of lives. Her ward only protected against the dragon attack however, and it did not include other ailments; so, there were many injuries to tend to, from falls to cuts and scrapes. They were better injuries than the alternatives she had witnessed at Ednor.
The keep was mostly intact as its walls were so strong and thick the fire could not penetrate them. Yet, many of the outbuildings were destroyed: servants’ quarters, kitchens, stables. Eve ordered the injured to be treated in the castle, for it was the only solid space left in the town. Healing supplies were eked out as far as they could go; what had been left in the town was destroyed. People took only what they could carry, or nothing at all, so many were without food, water, clothing, and shelter.
It was a dire situation to be in, in the middle of winter. Those who had space in undamaged buildings gladly shared it, including Eve, who gave over her room to a family with four young girls. They were naive of the dangers of the previous night, and thrilled to be spending the night in a castle despite the smoke damage to all the furniture.
As the sun began to set, Eve set off to the woods for some moments of quiet recollection, away from the hubbub, where she could begin to solve the problem of how to keep her people warm, dry, and fed without any shelter or food. But as she came upon the clearing where she had laid her spell, it was much changed. Every tree was dead, bare, and barren. Every blade of grass was shrivelled to nothing. Every plant. Every flower. Every moss. Every fungi. Every living thing within a radius as far as she could see was decimated.
This was the price of my ward, Eve realised with sadness, placing her hand upon the lifeless bark of a tree. So much energy was needed. She had not realised just what it would cost to protect her people from the dragons’ attack.
Eve sunk to the floor, wrapping her hands in the desiccated mosses. There was no life here now, only freezing water that pooled around her hands and knees.
“I’m sorry.” She knew the dead things could not hear her, but she was. “I’ll make this right, somehow.”
Chapter Twenty Five
Soren read Eve’s letter. It shook in his trembling hand. She wrote of the attack in Arlyn, sparing few details, and other small villages in Arrow county. Her news told of the utter devastation and many dead in the county, though the people of Arlyn had been spared thanks to her wards. She requested a lengthy list of aid: food, healing provisions, cloth, and all manner of practical things that had been lost. He did not spare much time to re-read her requests as he knew in the chill of winter, they would need such things and soon.
“Make a copy of this list and send as much as we can spare, immediately,” he instructed.
He pondered a moment on his cousin’s plight. It was hard to think of Pandora lying in ruins and hopelessly without provisions or shelter, and yet, that was what she faced in Arlyn. He had hoped it would not come to this, not after what she had endured in Ednor, but it seemed the fates had a different plan for her. He would send all he could, he knew, but it would be only a fraction of what was needed.
His frustration grew as he read more news of the day, for most of the other reports mirrored Arlyn’s: attacks and devastation heading south along the March Mountains, and struggling villages and townships elsewhere that had previously been destroyed requesting similar help. He could take no more.
“Summon the council at once!” he shouted to the messenger who waited outside, and strode from his chambers.
As his lords arrived in various states of hurriedness and some looking decidedly rumpled, Soren paced, filled with anger and in silence as they sat. Not one word was spoken and the tension was palpable. They sensed him, and he sensed them.
“Well met, Lords, Ladies,” Soren greeted them, his voice clipped. “We have urgent business today.” Today, he would not waste breath on pleasantries. He explained without preamble the devastating dragon attack on Arlyn and Arrow county.
A murmur arose at his words, and a shocked babble grew as those before him wondered at it amongst themselves.
“We must act now,” said Soren, glaring at them all. This was not optional any longer, and he would not suffer their objections and dithering. ”We must ally with the dragons and Eldarkind against this.”
The expected disagreement arose, and he cut them off.
“Silence,” he said, in a dangerously brittle tone, and slammed Eve’s letter on the table. Those closest to him jumped. He read a few choice excerpts. “Would you like this to be your kin? Your homes? A village might be expendable to you, but not to me. A hundred villages might be expendable to you, but not to me. A town? A city? Pandora? Arlyn was defensible, and it lies in ruins. Pandora is defensible. It too will suffer the same fate unless we act. What stops us from becoming the next target? Blind luck. Would you like to be burnt alive in your beds?”
Lady Elsard flinched at that, and all eyes flicked away from his searching glare, unwilling to meet it.
“They. Will. Come. It may be tomorrow. It may be a year, but they will come for your homes and they will come for Pandora. Would you look to Caledan’s utter de
struction because you were too proud to work with those who have ever been our greatest allies?
“I ask you to support me. Have I ever led you wrong? I may be young, but I have been sorely tested, and each time, I have led Caledan to victory and peace. I have shown my character to you. I have shown my worth. I will do whatever it takes to save Caledan, whether you support it or not. I do this for all of us. The choice is yours: stand with me, or burn.”
Barclay rose with a scrape of his chair. His face was closed and solemn. “I will stand with you.”
A shadow of fury crossed his father Willam’s face at Barclay’s insubordination, but he stood, too. “If my son stands, then I stand first,” he said. “My lands and my people are at stake, but I will not give my command to the Eldarkind!”
“Hear, hear!” came the sudden outcry, and his indignation was mirrored by all around the table.
“Command is given to no man, or Eldarkind,” Soren said, though he thought them foolish for not wanting to accept the advice and knowledge of those far wiser than them. This will be something to overcome, but not today.
“Each shall have order of their own command, as has always been the case. I will manage the Eldarkind and the dragons. I will ensure they act in our best interests.” It was a promise he wasn’t sure he could keep, but the mood changed in the room perceptively and suddenly, those who a moment ago had shook their heads were instead nodding.
Lady Elsard stood next, slowly, and pointedly. She looked around the room regally, as if she expected them all to hang off her every word. “I will support this, if there is the means to kill the dragons by our own hand. I will not stand huddled in the shadows with the womenfolk and children awaiting the grace of the Eldarkind to save us. I want power in my own hands and in the hands of my men to deal death to these abominations.”
Her sentiments were echoed by others.
