Light of the Radiant (The Reckoning Book 2)

by Matthew Ward

  "I told you before, I'm not what you think I am," I said wearily. "Does your thane still live?"

  "He lives."

  "Then take me to him, and you'll hear my explanation."

  He wasn't happy about that, but at that precise moment he didn't have much of a choice. I was armed, he wasn't, and that was that. We crossed the beam – him first, as I didn't want to risk being shoved from behind – descended the stair, and exited into the street...

  ...only to find the rest of my pursuers waiting outside the door. Their axes were held close, and it was clear they were only too ready to put those weapons to bloody use.

  I swore softly under my breath. "You promised I'd meet your thane."

  My rescuee snorted. "You already have," he growled. "I am Ragnar af Brynnar, Thane of Indrig." He gestured to the other Thrakkians. "Take him away and lock him up. If he gives you the slightest trouble, hack him into pieces and feed him to the crows."

  He walked away, leaving me surrounded by a circle of his warriors.

  "Wait!" I shouted. "I don't have time for this."

  "And I've no time to bandy words with a fallen," he called back over his shoulder. "Be thankful you're to be spared at all. The crows are always hungry, and we've all lost kin to your kind."

  There's time to fight your way clear, part of me thought. Do it now, before it's too late. But there wasn't, not unless I was ready to kill. As the Thrakkians moved in, I raised my hands, bitter regret coursing through me.

  *******

  Aware I couldn't help Arianwyn if I'd been fed to the crows, I took care to give no trouble, and soon found myself sealed in a small, dank basement. The walls were stone, the door solid wood, and the only light came from a small iron grill that led to the street above. They'd taken my sword, of course, but even with it I wouldn't have gotten terribly far.

  I kicked at the stone wall in frustration. I didn't have time for this. Should I have fought? Should I have let Ragnar fall? I certainly shouldn't have trusted Elspeth. None of this was getting me closer to Arianwyn, if indeed that was any longer possible. My beloved could be gone already, her body stolen by the Radiant. I resolved not to dwell upon such thoughts, for they served only to stir my emotions into a toxic mixture of depression and anger. Alas, this was easier to decide than to do. Again and again, I banished my fears about Arianwyn only for them to return stronger than ever, impotent anger hard upon their heels.

  After some hours, a meal of bread and water was brought, but I'd neither hunger nor thirst, and so left it untouched. I hadn't felt the need to eat or drink all day. Another aspect of being a fallen I'd have to learn to live with, though possibly not for long.

  At last, the door swung open, and Ragnar entered the room. He looked much more the part of the thane now, with a diadem of golden cloth set around his brow, and a rich woollen cloak about his shoulders. He brought no guard. I didn't for a moment believe that he trusted me – I suspected that the thane wanted his people to see that he didn't fear me.

  "I'm still waiting for an apology," I muttered as the door closed.

  "You won't get it," Ragnar said heavily. "Whether you leave this chamber alive depends on what you tell me. Who are you?"

  My first instinct, fed by hours of isolation and turbulent mood, was to give no answer at all, but I recognised it for the folly it was. Like it or not, Ragnar was my only hope of getting out of there. But how much should I tell him? I wasn't much of a mind to share the whole story with a complete stranger. "You can call me Edric." Now was definitely not the time to play at ranks and titles. "And I told you the truth before. I'm just trying to reach Tressia."

  "To pass on what you've learned to others of your kind, I suppose? We can expect another invasion soon?" He stepped closer, disbelief plain on his face. "Tell me where and when, and I might spare you."

  I shook my head. "You think I'm a spy."

  "I know you're a spy. Why else would you be here?"

  "Revenge, and justice."

  Ragnar laughed bitterly. "And what do fallen know of justice? Your kind ravaged our lands this winter. You do that out of justice?"

  I frowned. "The fallen spent the winter months here? We thought they'd simply retreated before the snows."

  "And who is we?" Ragnar demanded.

  "I don't think you'd believe me if I told you."

  "Do not mock me!" The Thane struck me hard across the face with the back of his hand, the force sufficient to drop me to my knees. A powerful man, and seemingly one used to exercising that power.

  Kill him! raged the voice in my head. He'll never believe you! It's you or him.

  I rose, wiping a trickle of dead, black blood from the corner of my mouth. "And do not test my patience, Ragnar af Brynnar," I growled. "I have had a most trying month."

  Ragnar's eyes flared like fire. "You threaten me? In my own fief?"

  I ignored him. "You're right. I am a fallen. A week ago I was as alive as you, but I was betrayed and murdered by the serathi. They've been here, have they not?"

  A little of the danger faded from his eyes. "Them, and others like them. They helped us defeat the fallen, but then cut the heart from our town with their heavenly fire! Hundreds died, and you've seen for yourself what remains of Indrig."

  "And the village to the south?"

  "Elsbarg?" Ragnar said. "That was the work of the fallen. The serathi helped us avenge that slaughter, before they turned on us."

  "Why?"

  Ragnar snorted. "They didn't confide in me, and no one I've spoken to knows more than I. Indrig is not the only town that that serathi have levelled. Krovor, Radroth, Antorg and a dozen more; they've all felt the fire of the heavens."

  "At least your fortress survived the attack."

  "My fortress?" Ragnar seized the throat of my robes in one meaty hand. "That heap of black stone isn't my stronghold."

  "It belongs to the serathi?" I asked, seeking to balance his anger with a calm of my own.

  "Not them. The giants. Fire from above awoke fire from below." With a savage growl Ragnar released me, and turned abruptly away. "A month ago, that fortress wasn't even there. Then the giants crawled out of the desolate earth and raised it block by block. Any who go near it are slain by living fire. It's the same in every town the serathi razed."

  "Why don't you leave?"

  "Because fallen roam the wilds, as well you know, and Indrig's walls – such as they are – remain our only defence. And a thane does not abandon his fief whilst he still draws breath." Ragnar clenched his fist, then slowly opened it. "Not even when that fief is assailed by beings from myth."

  I knew some of it, and could guess the rest. The fallen, tiring of the defeats Torev had inflicted, had come further south seeking easier prey. We should have foreseen it, but assumptions had blinded us to the truth.

  As for the serathi, I couldn't imagine Azyra long tolerating the stubbornness of Thrakkia's thanes. But to destroy their towns? What purpose could there be? Then I thought back to Salkard. The Light of the Radiant had been loosed there, and the balnoth had awoken in response. Something similar had happened here. Many towns had been built upon the bones of much older settlements, but what if many of those ruins hadn't been dead, and had instead only been dormant?

  All at once, the pieces came together, and the picture they formed was horrifying. "They're trying to pre-empt the Reckoning."

  Ragnar spun around. "What was that?"

  "Nothing. I was thinking aloud." Ragnar peered at me strangely, but didn't press the matter. "Let me go," I begged. "I'm no spy, and I can perhaps bring the serathi to account."

  Ragnar glowered at me. "What reason do I have to I believe you?"

  "None," I admitted. "I can think of nothing that will convince you, but give me an escort to the edge of your fief. Let me continue north. What can I have seen that the fallen cannot already know?"

  "There is that, I suppose." Ragnar exhaled loudly. "I suppose I owe you the courtesy of at least considering your words." He rapped sharply o
n the door. "I will bring you an answer tomorrow."

  A day lost, I thought, angry at the delay, but there was nothing I could do to change that. "Thank you, Ragnar af Brynnar." I offered a small bow. "I await your decision."

  The door opened. Ragnar gave me the smallest nod and strode out of the room. The door slammed shut, and I heard heavy bolts drawn.

  There was a whisper of movement by the grate. Elspeth – still in a cat's form – squeezed between the bars and dropped into the room.

  "And where have you been?" I demanded.

  The cat stared at me, yawned, and then was gone, replaced by the womanly form I'd come to dislike. I couldn't say how it happened, exactly. One moment Elspeth was a cat; the next, she was not.

  She stared at the sealed door. "What a dislikeable man."

  I shook my head. "He's a proud man, and more than a little scared. The two make an unpleasant combination. How long did you listen?"

  "I heard most of it. I'd have come to you earlier, but it didn't seem wise whilst he was here."

  I sat down in the corner of the room. "Wouldn't this be easier if you just released me, as you did on Skyhaven? If you can set drudges and serathi dreaming, surely mortals present few problems."

  She folded her arms and stared at me defiantly. "It's not possible."

  "Why not?"

  "It just isn't, that's all. What did you mean about the serathi trying to pre-empt the Reckoning?"

  I let a little anger creep into my voice. Only a little. I'd the feeling that if I gave it full rein, it wouldn't come easily to heel. "Don't change the subject. I want to know why you abandoned me, and I want to know why you won't get me out of here. I've neither time nor patience enough to play guessing games."

  Elspeth leaned back against the wall. "Because I can't."

  "I beg your pardon?"

  "I said I can't. I told you before, I'm no longer welcome in the Palace of Dreams." Her expression suggested that explained everything, and that I was too foolish to understand why. Perhaps she was right.

  "I understand you can't go home," I said. "But it doesn't explain..."

  Elspeth hissed. "Mortals. Idiots, all of you. Don't be so literal. The Palace of Dreams isn't just a physical place; it's a feeling, it's what I breathe, it's what forms my thoughts. It's my birthright, and I can't go back there. Not until mother allows it."

  At last, I understood. "Ashana stripped you of your magic."

  "Yes," Elspeth replied sullenly. "Not all, but enough that I can't guide others to dream."

  "Wonderful," I growled. "Is that why you ran?"

  "Not exactly." She spoke in a small voice, all the fight gone from her. "I was afraid. I didn't want to die."

  "But you're a goddess. What can mortals do to harm you?"

  "Before I met you? Nothing. I'd just be reborn in the Palace of Dreams. But now I'm trapped here..."

  "You're afraid Ashana would let you perish?" My anger was fading, and I was perhaps even beginning to feel a little sorry for her.

  "Would you take that kind of risk?"

  "I might."

  "Mortals." Elspeth sneered, or tried to. Her heart wasn't really in it.

  "It doesn't matter," I lied. "You should have told me before."

  "You think I wanted to tell you at all?" she demanded, a little of her old fire returning. "It's humiliating to live this way, let alone speak of it."

  "You still should have told me," I said quietly. "There can be no secrets if we're to be allies."

  "Then answer my question," Elspeth prompted. "About the serathi pre-empting the Reckoning."

  I sighed. "Very well. What do you know about the Reckoning?"

  "More than you, I should imagine. Now the truce is ended, my mother and her siblings will finally end the war that began long ago."

  "No matter the cost to the rest of us?"

  "Mother doesn't want that. At least, that's what she told me. She didn't even fight in the last war. It was the others – the Radiant, Jack, Malgyne, the Hunter, and the rest. They wanted victory. Mother and some of the others didn't want to get drawn into the last war, so they focused their efforts on empowering mortals so that they might survive. I wasn't allowed to fight. Nor were my sisters. We carried gifts to those mother had chosen. It was humiliating..."

  I couldn't draw much comfort from that. After all, Azyra had espoused almost exactly the same sentiment. "So what happens if one side is weakened before the Reckoning begins?"

  "Then they'll lose quicker." Elspeth shot me a suspicious glance. "You're talking about Astor's balnoths, aren't you?"

  "I am. Amongst others. Azyra's trying to stack the deck. She's using the Light of the Radiant to awaken the balnoths early, so that they waste their strength fighting mortals before the Reckoning begins. You heard Ragnar. He'll assault that fortress again, the moment he thinks he has the slightest chance of victory."

  Elspeth frowned. "Edric, if Azyra seeks to weaken those patronised by the other powers, she'll strike at the mortals mother once empowered."

  "I know," I said softly, the words bitter on my tongue. "Azyra never had any intention of forging an alliance with the Hadari Empire. She wants to destroy us." I shook my head. "It's ironic in a way. Magorian thought he was manipulating Azyra into attacking my people, not knowing that was already her plan."

  Suddenly weary, I stared up at the darkening sky beyond the grill. It was going to be a long night.

  Four

  I passed the bitter midnight hours staring silently at the cold stone of the basement walls. Elspeth changed back into her cat form and curled upon in the far corner of the room, and slept through in a manner denied to me. It was agonising to sit so quiet and so still when I badly needed to be elsewhere, and again I heard a voice that was not quite my own whisper through my thoughts.

  Break down the door and leave. They can't stop you, not if you're prepared to kill.

  With an effort, I tamped the urge down. Even if I got the door open, I wasn't prepared to kill, not now, and not for this. If I started placing the lives of one set of innocents above those of another, I'd end up no better than the serathiel. My strange half-life might have been only a temporary reprieve from death, but I was determined not to cast aside the values of my former existence.

  Five days had passed since I'd died. Five days in which Azyra's plans had proceeded apace. What had she told Arianwyn? I doubted the serathiel had admitted to my murder. Were I Azyra – and it worried me how easily I channelled her thoughts – I'd have claimed to send me back to the Empire – there was no way Arianwyn would know otherwise, not with Adanika gone and Edina dead. No. Arianwyn wouldn't be so easily deceived. She wasn't a fool. She wasn't without resource either, and it was yet possible she'd free herself of Azyra's schemes. Wasn't it?

  And what of the Empire? With Magorian and Azyra fanning the flames, it couldn't be long before war began in earnest. It wouldn't last long, not now the Tressians had the serathi at their side. It would be a slaughter, but hopefully there was time yet before the real killing began; time enough to see things ended.

  *******

  Ragnar came for me a little after dawn. As he entered the room, Elspeth shook herself into wakefulness and jumped up to lie across my shoulders.

  "I see your cat found you?" Ragnar said with a hint of civility.

  "She's very clever, most of the time." I winced as Elspeth sank her claws into my back.

  "My guards heard you talking during the night."

  I shrugged. "I'm lucky enough to have a goddess watch over me. She talks to me betimes."

  "She argues with you, if my guards are to be believed."

  "The goddess, alas, is not always as clever as my cat."

  Again, I felt claws in my flesh.

  Ragnar regarded me with the manner of a man who can taste a joke on the air, but can divine neither source nor its target. "Come."

  The thane led me into the open air where a group of his warriors waited. They were cloaked and helmed, and bore quartered shi
elds showing a stag's antlers – Ragnar's symbol, I presumed. One had my sword belted at his waist, and none of them looked any happier about the situation than their lord.

  "My hascarls will guide you north of the city, as you wished," Ragnar told me. "You may cross the river and continue your journey, but do not return to Indrig. If you do, you will be slain. Do you understand me?"

  I nodded. "I understand, Ragnar af Brynnar. I won't forget this."

  Ragnar held my gaze, then looked away. "We'll see."

  *******

  The hascarls led me through the Indrig's eastern streets. At no time did we enter the desolation at the town's heart, and no one moved to bar our path. There were more people living in Indrig than I'd realised, at least if the cautious eyes peering out through cracks and shutters were anything to go by. At no point did any of the hascarls speak to me, though it was impossible to say whether this was through Ragnar's order, or their own distaste at escorting so wretched a creature.

  After a time, we came to the north gate and the bridge beyond. The north gatehouse was in scarcely better condition than the south. The bridge was even worse, with two of its five arches all but collapsed. Even so, it was better than attempting to swim the river, and we scrambled across its battered stones with only a minor loss of dignity. Once on the far bank, the hascarl who bore my sword unbuckled it and cast it on the ground between us.

  "Follow this road north," he said, "and it will bring you to Tressia." With that, he and his fellows began their journey back across the bridge, leaving Elspeth and I alone in the cold morning air.

  Retrieving my sword, I continued north, but more watchful than before. If there were fallen in the surrounding lands, I didn't want to encounter them.

  I also travelled more swiftly. If my body needed neither sleep nor food, then there was no need to moderate my exertions, or so I reasoned. I even ran for a time, but then realised that made it impossible to pay proper heed to my surroundings – or to whatever might lurk in those surroundings – so in the end I settled for a brisk walking pace.