by Matt Heppe
Sulentis’s smile faded as he faced the five dead inquisitors.
“We’ll take them down to the village and make a pyre of one of the ruined cottages. And then we’ll move on and camp.”
“The fight was poorly done, Prince Handrin,” Escalan said. Orlos noticed the honorific. Escalan never used them when addressing the prince. He usually addressed him as a friend. “We were lucky not to lose anyone,” Escalan continued.
Sulentis raised himself tall in his saddle as he faced Calen and Sindi. “You can’t do that again. Riding off like that endangered us all.”
Calen shrugged and then slid his bow into its saddle case. “Standing around arguing endangered all of us,” he said. “We are here to protect Orlos.”
“There’s too much confusion,” Orlos said. “We need a leader.”
“What are you talking about?” Escalan snapped. “Prince Handrin is our leader.”
Orlos grimaced at the warrior’s anger. He was still shaking from the intensity of the fight. He couldn’t let himself be cowed, though. “It’s not the Landomeri way. We didn’t vote.”
“Vote?” Fendal scoffed. “You’re in Salador, and this is the Crown Prince.”
“We should go back to Landomere,” Calen said. “It’s too dangerous for you here, Orlos. Let the Saladorans handle their own problems.”
“No!” Telea shouted. “I won’t let you do this!” Her glare took in the entire circle. “The danger we face is a threat to everyone. No one will stand against the demons when they invade. We must cooperate and get Forsvar. We must seal the Dromost Gate.”
Sulentis held up his hand before anyone could speak. “I am the Crown Prince of Salador, but it would be a mistake for me to assume that all would want to follow me. I am not lord over the Landomeri or the Belenese,” he said, nodding to Telea. “And Fendal only just recently learned of who I am. Orlos is correct. We must choose a leader and agree to follow as they command. What we are attempting is far too dangerous and far too difficult, if we do not work together.”
Escalan was clearly angry, and Fendal wore his usual dour expression. Calen and Sindi held their heads high, seemingly aloof of the prince’s words. On Telea’s face, Orlos saw fear.
“I will follow Sulentis,” Orlos said. “And I will follow his commands. I’m not saying this because he is the Crown Prince of Salador. I’m saying it because he is best for the job. He knows Sal-Oras and how to find Forsvar. He will best get us there and out again. He’s proven himself by saving the elementars and by saving me.”
Orlos looked at Calen. “If you can’t follow him, you should go back to Landomere. He should be our leader.”
“I will follow you, Prince Handrin,” Telea said. “I’ve seen what you can do.”
“So long as you don’t endanger Orlos, I will follow you as well” Calen said.
“I’m endangering all of you,” Sulentis said. “Every part of what we are doing is dangerous.”
“No caveats, Calen,” Orlos said. “Follow, or go home.” His words were bolder than he felt. What if Calen said no? What if he ordered Orlos home to Landomere?
The older man met his gaze and then said, “I will follow the Prince of Salador.”
“I go with the spiridus,” Sindi said.
“I am your valet-at-arms,” Escalan said. “I’ve sworn my life to yours.”
Sulentis fixed Fendal in his gaze. “Baron, can you put aside your pride and obey? I don’t need a dead knight, I need a living elementar.”
“You are my prince,” Fendal said. “I will obey your commands.”
“We will succeed in this,” Sulentis said. “We must.”
They took the bodies of the slain inquisitors back to the manor and then made a pyre within the shelter of the remaining four walls of a cottage. There was plenty of dry wood to be found in the wreckage of the manor and the other cottages so there was no fear the fire wouldn’t burn.
Orlos helped with the construction, but neither Calen nor Sindi would. It went against the Way of the Forest to burn the dead and they would have nothing to do with it. Sulentis sent them to patrol in case some other danger arrived.
Orlos didn’t stay for the lighting of the fire. He didn’t want to be there when the bodies started burning. The sky was growing dark as the flames rose over the remaining walls.
They rode into the night, making up for lost time and hoping to gain distance from the smoke and bright flames.
How many more will die? Orlos thought as they passed over a ridge and the flames of the pyre disappeared from view.
Chapter Twenty-four
“Do we know where Cragor’s army is?” Ayja asked. She failed to stifle a yawn as she leaned heavily on her spear. They’d marched through the day and into another night without rest. More than once she’d stumbled, falling asleep while she walked.
“My best guess is that Ost-Oras is under siege,” Morin said. “My pyren scouts will come in soon. Perhaps we’ll know then.”
“And how far away is he?” Ayja shook her head to clear it.
“Enough!” Morin said. “I won’t have you stumbling along any more. You can’t even keep your head up.” He stepped closer to her.
“No!” she tried to slap his hand away, but he grabbed her by the wrist.
Cam stepped close, his axe held at the ready.
“Ayja, if we are to defeat Cragor, you must accept my touch,” Morin said.
“He’s right,” Cam said, lowering his axe. “We can’t go on like this.”
“Cam, I don’t want this,” Ayja said. “I don’t want stolen lives in me.” Morin’s hand was cold and rough. It wasn’t human flesh.
“I know, Ayja, but it’s the only way we can keep up with the army.”
“Are you ready?” Morin asked.
“I’ll never be ready.”
Warmth rushed through her. Life. The shock of it was overwhelming. She thought it would feel worse, somehow impure, receiving the life force of others. But it was pure, living energy, and it drove out all fatigue, all the aches and pains of her muscles. She felt more alive than she had ever felt before.
She wanted it to go on and on. The pleasure of it was indescribable. The fact that the life force rushing through her was stolen from helpless victims meant nothing. I need this. It is necessary.
And then it was gone. Ayja stumbled forward as Morin removed his hand. She didn’t want it to stop. He took her by the shoulders and helped her regain her balance. Her face was close to his, and even in the darkness his white skin shone, and his deep, black eyes were unreadable.
He was dead. A creature who sucked the life from others. She recoiled from him. What did I let him do?
“That’s what it’s like for me all the time,” he said. “Or it was when I was still in contact with the Orb of Creation.”
“But you gave it up,” Ayja said. It seemed hard to imagine anyone giving up that power—that life.
“I had to. Or Cragor would have made me a slave.”
“And now? Do you feel anything good at all?”
“Now my strength waxes and wanes. My life depends on my pyren and their ghuls.”
“He didn’t touch your mind did he, Ayja?” Cam asked.
“I don’t think so.”
“You’d know it.” Cam glared at Morin. “He did it to me before your mother died. I’ve seen him do it to others.”
“Come, Nidon, it’s your turn.”
Cam braced himself for the touch. Ayja watched Cam shudder as Morin’s life energy flowed into him. It was only heartbeats, and then Morin released him. Had it been just as quick for her? It had seemed much longer.
“Let’s go,” Morin said. He turned and marched down the country lane.
With renewed energy, Ayja and Cam followed Morin into the darkness. Ayja was surprised just how empty the East Teren was. They passed a desolate village, empty since the time of the Wasting, but saw no other sign of human habitation for much of the night.
The following day dawned bright a
nd clear. Just as before, the ghuls went into hiding, but not until Morin and the pyren had forced them to march well into the dawn light. They drove the ghuls mercilessly until they could take no more.
Morin, his lyches and pyren, and Cam and Ayja continued through the day. As evening fell and fatigue weighed heavily on Ayja’s shoulders, Morin called a halt and once again transferred life energy to them.
Ayja had desired Morin’s healing touch all day and hated herself for it. When the time came, she did everything in her power not to show how good it made her feel. Instead of the healing energy, she thought of the ghuls, and the life Morin had stolen from them.
“You’ve left your ghuls far behind,” Cam said.
“Sunny skies and late summer nights are my enemy,” Morin said. “The ghuls will give chase all night. They’ll catch us by dawn. They’ll be very hungry. Be wary of them.”
“And if it’s sunny again tomorrow?” Ayja asked.
“We’ll press on until we’ve made contact with Cragor.”
“Nothing from your scouts?” Cam asked.
Morin shook his head. “Cragor’s army seems as fast as ours, or nearly so. He mustn’t have a baggage train. He’s going straight for Sal-Oras.”
“We must be close,” Cam said.
“Very close. Only a day or so.” Morin turned and strode into the darkness.
They walked another quarter night before coming to a small farming village. Morin made no attempt to slow down or hide his passage. He and a score of pyren marched boldly down the village’s only street.
Dogs barked, and a man holding a candle came to a door. He watched the procession for just a few heartbeats before blowing out the flame and shutting his door. Even the dogs became silent.
They feel it, Ayja thought. They know that death marches down their street. They soon left the village behind them. Ayja looked over her shoulder and wondered what would happen when the ghuls arrived. Just as quickly she realized she didn’t have to wonder. They’ll be devoured.
“You have to protect those people,” Ayja said. “The ghuls will kill them.”
“There’s nothing to be done for them.”
“If you don’t help them, I will.” Ayja stopped and turned back to the village. “I won’t let your ghuls kill any more innocent people.”
Morin didn’t speak for a moment. Then he waved two pyren closer to her. “Wake the village. Send them south. See that none are harmed.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” they replied. Both saluted and ran back towards the village.
“It that acceptable?” Morin asked.
Ayja watched the pyren disappear down the dark road. How do I know they won’t just kill everyone themselves? How do I know they won’t create more ghuls?
“We must go, Ayja,” Cam said. “We have to keep moving.”
“You don’t trust them either,” she said.
“We do what we can. How many do we imperil if we guard these few lives?”
“The pyren will obey me,” Morin said. “The village is safe. Come along.”
“Malton wasn’t safe,” Ayja said. “That’s why you left us behind with the Blade of Darra. You didn’t want us to see what you were going to do.”
“Let’s not speak of this again,” Morin said, “I don’t want to be a lych, and I don’t want to lead an army of pyren and ghuls. But this is the way it must be. When I have the Orb, all will be restored, and you will be made Queen of Salador.”
“These ghuls will be restored? The pyren?” Ayja glared at Morin. “The Orb can do this? Can it clear their minds of what was done to them also? Can you make them forget that they were turned into living dead monsters who hungered for human blood?”
Morin leaned in close to her, his flat black eyes staring into hers. “What do you know, Ayja? I am a creature of the Orb of Creation. I was touched by its power.” He raised his hand and pointed his finger at her face. “I know exactly what the Orb is capable of.”
“I hope you’re right,” Cam said. “You have a lot to make amends for.”
“Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for a just cause. And there can be no wrongdoing if the cause is just.”
“A victory without honor is not victory,” Cam said.
Morin turned and laughed at him. “You can be such a child, Nidon.”
“Don’t say that!” Ayja said. “Cam is more my father than you will ever be.”
“I made you who you are, Ayja” he said. “I gave you the power to call elemental fire. It is my blood that will make you queen.”
“I didn’t ask to be an elementar, and I didn’t ask to be a queen! It’s Cam who made me who I am.”
“Very touching. Make him your Champion when you’re Queen of Salador. You are my daughter, you are an elementar, and you will be queen.”
“I don’t want it.”
“It doesn’t matter what you want. You’ll do what you have to do. If you walk away from this, you leave a world in chaos. You are the rightful heir to the Throne of Salador, and you’ll make the world whole again.”
He looked up into the lightening sky and then turned back to Ayja. “Leave now, if you wish. I’ll see you clear of my army. Live your life as a free commoner, for as long as that might be.” He pointed a withered, white finger at her. “But if the world turns out worse than you wish it might be, just look at your reflection and know that it was your own doing.”
“I’ll go with you,” she said, her voice low and full of regret. “I can’t let the world fall into evil.”
“Good then. We’ll stop Cragor together.” He smiled at her, an awful sight with his dead face and black eyes.
Ayja nodded at him in reply. When I said evil, I didn’t mean Cragor, she thought, hoping her eyes didn’t betray her.
“Let’s go,” Morin said to Ayja and Cam. “Speed and surprise are our two great advantages.”
“What about your army of bloodthirsty living dead?” Cam asked. “Isn’t that your biggest advantage?”
“There was a time, Nidon, when you understood respect.”
“There was a time when you weren’t a monster. You are a shadow of the knight you once were.”
“You’d know obedience as one of my pyren.” Morin said.
“Stop it,” Ayja said. “Cam will be good. And I’ll do my part as long as Cam is with me and untouched.”
Many hours later, after a long day marching under a bright sun that drove the ghuls into hiding, a pyren ran up to Morin. “Cragor’s army is on the road from Ost-Oras to Sal-Oras,” the pyren said.
“So fast?” Morin asked. “How is it possible?”
“They had allies in Ost-Oras who let them through the gates. Eternals and others.”
“This is hard news,” Morin said. “Cragor is impressive for a varcolac. I underestimated him. Or is it the eternals who are advising him?” He paused a moment. “Send messengers to Lord Daimon and Lord Adun. Have them turn their ghuls west. We march directly for Sal-Oras.”
Morin dismissed the man and strode over to Ayja. “Our plans have changed,” he said. “Cragor is moving on Sal-Oras faster than expected. He’s closer to Sal-Oras than we are—perhaps only three or four days away. My army will march faster, though.” Morin paused, his dark eyes staring off towards the setting sun. “I’ll let him assault the city, and then I’ll hit him from the rear.”
***
All through the night ghuls joined them by ones and twos. There were hundreds of them now, marching to either side of Morin and his pyren. More stretched out on the road behind them.
Ahead of them, several large fires burned in the distance. Huge bonfires…or a village.
Morin sent three pyren off to investigate, while the rest of the army followed more slowly. The pyren returned a short time later. “Your Highness,” one reported, “Cragor’s men are here. They’ve sacked a village and manor.”
“They’re still in the village?” Morin asked, peering into the darkness. “How many?”
“I saw a few dozen, bu
t I think there might be more. They are unluks.”
“Did you see anything beyond the village? Is the bulk of Cragor’s army here?”
“No, Your Highness. I think this is a flanking force or a raiding party.”
“Go to Lord Adun and tell him to circle the village and prevent any from escaping,” Morin said, pointing off to his right. “I’ll attack from this direction. Tell him to attack when he hears fighting. Make certain that none escape. I don’t want Cragor to know of us.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Morin called more of his pyren to him. “Spread out, left and right. Keep your ghuls in check. They are to kill first and feed second. We’ll attack on my command.”
The pyren saluted and departed, gathering their ghuls and organizing them into a rough line of battle.
“What are unluks?” Ayja asked. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“Creatures of the Orb,” Morin said. “Akinos created far more creatures than we imagined when we first fought him. He only brought those creations he felt worthy—the giant capcaun and urias, and the varcolac and eternals. He left behind all of his lesser creations, the unluk among them.”
“But what are they? Are they like the varcolac?” As she said the word, she tried to imagine the silver-eyed warriors she’d heard so much of in Cam’s stories. She thought of her own silver eyes. What did Akinos do to me?
“Akinos made many efforts at perfecting the human race,” Morin said. “Some of those efforts included imbuing humans with certain animal traits. The unluk are a mix of human and boar. They make up the bulk of Cragor’s army. They are stupid and small but vicious. They also breed often and mature at a very young age.”
“Does he still have Akinos’s other creatures in his army?” Cam asked.
“Eternals—maybe twenty that I know of. Varcolac make up his elite units. The capcaun and urias are sent with his humans and unluks to stiffen their ranks.”
“How big is his army?”
“I don’t know for certain,” Morin said. “He left Rigaria with ten thousand men.”
