Exiles (Ilyon Chronicles Book 4)

by Jaye L. Knight

  Kyrin nodded. “I didn’t catch much, but I distinctly heard one of the ryriks say, ‘when Daican’s force shows up.’ I can only assume they meant here, and if they’re calling it a force, it must be large.”

  “Two of us stayed behind to see what more they could find out,” Saul said. “Elôm willing, they haven’t been captured and will soon return with information.”

  Soon turned out to be shortly before suppertime. They were just about ready to eat when the two ryrik men arrived, dragging the bound crete traitor along between them. The man tugged against his captors, his hair hanging in a tangled mess, and a deep scowl on his face. His eyes flashed coldly as he glared at the group.

  “You,” Darq said in disgust.

  “Do you know him?” Kaden asked Talas.

  “Chand,” Talas answered. “His father is leader of the Owl Clan.”

  One of the ryrik men said, “We grabbed him when he was leaving. He had this on him.” He handed over a folded parchment.

  “This is addressed to Lord Vallan,” Saul said after inspecting it. He gave it to Darq.

  “And it’s sealed with Daican’s seal.” Darq broke it open and began reading. His expression grew harder until it bordered on a scowl.

  “What is it?” Balen asked.

  “Basically, a declaration of war on the Dorlanders. It’s warning Lord Vallan and the cretes not to interfere. According to the emperor, if we turn our backs, we’ll be left in peace.” He shook his head, crunching the parchment as he refolded it, and sent another glare at Chand.

  “That’s not all of it,” the other ryrik said. “Just before we left, that force they talked about showed up.”

  “How many?” Balen asked.

  “More than fifty foot soldiers and twenty of these great black dragons with their riders. As far as we could tell, they are a preliminary force and plan to march straight on to Bel-gard and either weaken it or take control. Reinforcements will arrive in a couple of weeks. They’ll reach the ford the day after tomorrow and the city in about four days. The ground force won’t be much threat to the giants. They’d never make it beyond Bel-gard’s walls. But those dragons . . . The giants wouldn’t have anything to combat them if the cretes don’t help. All they need to do is weaken Bel-gard’s defenses and whatever force is coming after them can just walk in and take control.”

  Captain Darq grabbed Chand by the jerkin and yanked him close. “How large is the force still coming?”

  Chand just glared at him and clamped his mouth shut.

  “No doubt large enough to ensure Daican’s control of the area,” Rayad said. “He probably intends to set up his rule here same as he did in Samara.”

  “Not if the cretes have anything to say about it,” Darq replied.

  At this, Chand broke his silence. “You’d do well to heed Daican’s offer and stay out of this fight.”

  Darq pinned him with a steely gaze again. “Just stand by and watch while he destroys every one of our allies? What then? What’s to prevent him from turning on us once our allies have fallen?”

  Chand lifted his chin. “Daican’s power to conquer comes from the firedrake force, and Falcor commands them. If Daican wants them on his side and not against him then he’ll agree to our terms to leave the cretes out of his conquest and return the land we lost.”

  “So you’re willing to not only allow, but help him destroy innocent lives and take over Ilyon just so long as we can occupy our former territory—a territory we left by our own choice?”

  “What happens between the other races is none of our concern. There will be only two ruling forces in Ilyon after this—Daican and the cretes. It’s a lot better than we have now where we’re merely an afterthought shut away in the wilderness with no say in what goes on around us.”

  Darq looked angry enough to hit him. “You worthless scum. I knew you came from a family of fools, I just didn’t realize how foolish. You’ve deceived yourself into believing a warped view of history. You act as though cretes were victims in some crime. We left Arcacia by our own choice. We abandoned Arcacia. Maybe if we had stayed and fought harder in our opposition to what was happening instead of turning our backs and walking away, things wouldn’t be as they are now.”

  “It’s cretes like you who won’t live long enough to see our people returned to our former glory,” Chand sneered.

  “Yeah, well, I will see Lord Vallan deal with you.” Darq shoved the crete toward Talas and Kaden. “Keep an eye on him.”

  Talas gripped Chand’s arm. “Gladly.”

  Now Darq turned to face Balen. “We need to warn Jorvik and the other giants who will be in the path of Daican’s men. They need to leave now.”

  Balen nodded, but Saul said, “If I know Jorvik, he won’t go anywhere. He takes guarding the ford seriously. There are many defenseless villages right in Daican’s path if his men get past the river.”

  “Then we must at least warn him so he can prepare,” Balen replied. He turned to the group. “Gather your things. We need to go.”

  All the men turned and hurried to the barn. In the loft, Jace hastily rolled his bedroll and stuffed his belongings into his pack. As soon as he finished, he climbed down the ladder where they all met Saul at the door to the barn.

  “Jorvik and his brothers won’t stand a chance against Daican’s men,” Saul said grimly.

  Balen gave a slow nod, looking as though a weight of the situation rested on him. “We’ll see if there is anything we can do to help once we get there.”

  Saul grimaced. “I’ll talk the men here and try to get word to the other nearby villages. If I can, I’ll gather a force to aid you, though it will take some time.”

  “I know Jorvik would be grateful, as would we,” Balen said.

  As he and the others headed toward the dragons with their packs, Jace hung back with Saul. If things did not go well in the next few days, this might be the last they saw of each other.

  “I don’t know how to thank you for everything you did for me and for Kyrin.” Jace had planned to find a more fitting way to show his gratitude, but now time didn’t allow for that. “Also for giving me a new view of ryriks I never would have gained anywhere else. I’ve enjoyed it here more than most places I’ve been in my life, and I wish I had more time to spend here.”

  Saul smiled. “I’m glad Elôm caused our paths to cross. I don’t know what the future will hold, but I do hope someday you will visit again . . .” He glanced toward the cabin with a smile. “Perhaps with a pretty wife at your side.”

  Jace ducked his head with a smile of his own. “I hope so.”

  Saul then offered his hand, and Jace gripped it firmly.

  “You’re always welcome here,” Saul told him.

  Darkness had long since fallen and Aertus and Vilai hung high overhead when they arrived back at Jorvik’s farm. Amid the chorus of crickets from the surrounding fields, they landed in front of the cabin. Slowly, they all dismounted, wearied by the late hour, but Jace sensed the tension running through all of them. He’d spent most of the last several hours wondering how they would stop Daican from gaining ground in Dorland. Because they would try. He had no doubt of that. They wouldn’t leave Dorland to fight or fall on her own.

  Captain Darq pulled Chand down from his dragon and motioned to Talas and Kaden. “Help me get him tied up where he can’t cause any trouble.”

  They led him up onto the porch, sat him down against one of the support beams, and wound a rope around him.

  The commotion of their arrival must have alerted those in the cabin. The door opened, spilling candlelight out into the dark farmyard. Jorvik walked out onto the porch, followed by his brothers.

  “What’s going on?” He eyed Chand before he turned to Balen.

  “Nothing good, I’m afraid,” Balen answered.

  Leaving Naeth to guard their prisoner, they all filed inside where Halvar and Levi lit more candles. Gathered in a circle in the living room, Balen relayed the information about the coming attack.r />
  “The firedrakes will no doubt destroy any farm or village they come across on their way to Bel-gard. Anyone in the area must be warned to leave.”

  Jorvik shook his head. “There are too many. They’d never get out in time.” His gaze settled on Halvar and Levi. “We will have to try to stop them at the ford, or at least slow them down to give the people time to flee. If not, it will be a slaughter.”

  “But what about the firedrakes?” Halvar asked. “All we can hope to do is slow down the men on the ground. We won’t even be able to do that if those firedrakes take us out first.”

  Jorvik shook his head. “I don’t know, but we have to do something. Hundreds, if not thousands, will be killed if we don’t.”

  Off to the side, Jace caught Darq murmuring to Talas, who nodded. The captain then stepped forward. “Talas and I will do what we can to stop the firedrakes. I’m sure Naeth will join us.”

  Kaden stepped up as well. “So will I.”

  Beside Jace, Kyrin tensed, wrapping her arms around herself. Jace rested his hand against her back.

  “We can’t ask you to do that,” Jorvik replied.

  Darq shook his head. “You aren’t. This is our choice.”

  “You’ll also have help against their ground force.” All eyes turned to Balen, and he said, “I will fight with you.”

  More than one person appeared ready to protest, but Darq beat them to it. “My lord, at risk of overstepping, you’re the king of Samara and cannot put yourself in this sort of danger. This is likely a suicide mission, and I, for one, can’t let you make that sacrifice.”

  “But what will it mean that I’m king if Daican succeeds in his conquest? If Dorland falls to him, any hope to free Samara falls with it, and I will never be her king again. Daican will have won. I would rather fight and die here than stand on the sidelines watching Ilyon fall to him. I understand your concern, but my life is no more important than anyone else’s in this room, and if I’m not willing to fight and make sacrifices, then I’m not worthy of being king anyway.”

  Darq hesitated but then gave in with a slow nod.

  All around the room, the men traded looks of a silent agreement that they would remain here to fight. After all, if Saul couldn’t gather men from amongst the ryriks, then those in this room were the only form of help Jorvik would receive. Jace drew a hard breath. Somehow, he had known from the moment they learned of Daican’s plan that it would come to this. That it would be them standing against Daican’s force in a desperate attempt to hold them back.

  Kyrin’s arm slipped around him, and he looked down at her. Her eyes held both resignation and fear. As Darq had said, this would no doubt be a suicide mission. Daican’s force outnumbered them at least five to one, probably more. It was hard to see any of them coming out alive . . . except Kyrin. He would make sure she survived.

  Before he could act on this, Darq spoke again. “King Orlan will need to be warned of the attack.” His attention rested on Kyrin. “We’ll send you back to Bel-gard to inform him of what has happened.” He then switched his gaze. “Leetra, you’ll fly straight to Arvael and gather together as many riders you can. If, by Elôm’s grace, we can hold out here, perhaps you will make it back in time to aid us. If not, then at least you can stop them from burning a path to Bel-gard.”

  As much as Jace knew Leetra hated to leave the fight, she nodded. Someone had to go, and it was only logical to get the women out of harm’s way. And if anyone could gather an army from the reluctant cretes, it was her.

  “Give your dragons a few hours to rest and leave at first light,” Darq said. “Other than that, we just need to pray that Elôm provides us with the ability to hold back Daican until help arrives.”

  Jace should sleep. He needed his strength for this battle they had never expected to fight when they’d left Landale. However, too many thoughts and people crowded into his mind—Kyrin, Elanor, his mother. The anticipation of battle wasn’t new to him. After all, only a year ago he and the others had faced it in Samara. Yet, there they’d had every expectation to win. Here . . . this wasn’t to win. This was a desperate stand—an effort to save lives and slow Daican long enough for Dorland to prepare for the attack and for the cretes to come to their aid . . . if any of them came. Surely Lord Vallan would aid the giants and wouldn’t accept Daican’s offer, but what of the clan leaders? If they remained split, would they let Dorland fall?

  Whatever happened, Jace had a terrible feeling he and the others wouldn’t be here to see it. The thought of losing the entire group of people he’d become so close to through so many trials tore at his heart. It would be so senseless. His eyes stung at the same time heat burned through his chest.

  Unable to stand the pressure of it building inside him, he sat up and pushed aside his blankets. Grabbing his boots, he stepped to the door and let himself out of the bedroom as quietly as he could so he wouldn’t disturb anyone who might have been able to sleep the last few hours.

  He needed fresh air, so he walked out to the porch. Chand still sat tied up near the stairs, while Naeth guarded him from a bench near the door. Darq stood and stared out toward the river as if Daican’s men would show up any minute, and Talas and Leetra sat on the porch railing. They all looked at him.

  “Couldn’t sleep?” Naeth asked.

  Jace shook his head. “No.” He glanced down at Chand. The man looked very uncomfortable all trussed up, and yet he still managed to retain his fierce crete pride, judging by the sharp angle of his chin as he glared at Jace.

  Jace scanned the others again, but their grim expressions only added to his unease. He stepped to the edge of the porch, where he peered up at the sky. Dawn was only about an hour away. Daican’s force would soon be on the move.

  Leaning against the support post at the stairs, he stared out at the open meadow in the direction of the ford. He imagined Daican’s force marching across it, cutting them all down while the firedrakes destroyed the dragons and their riders. They would have no such protection as a fortress or walls to shield them. They’d make easy targets right out in the open . . .

  Jace straightened and turned to Darq. “We should ambush them.”

  Darq looked at him, his brows lifting. “What?”

  “Daican’s men have no reason to assume we know they’re coming. That means they won’t expect or be prepared for an ambush. If we fight them out there—” he gestured to the meadow, “—we’ll have no cover. If the firedrakes don’t pick us off first, Daican’s men will march on us full force and cut us down. But if we set up an ambush on the other side of the ford, we can use the forest to our advantage. It will force them to spread out instead of stay in a strong formation, and it will go against their training. Plus, the trees will provide us cover, not only from Daican’s men, but also from the firedrakes. It won’t help against the ryriks if they are with them, but I still think it might be better than exposing ourselves in open battle. We’d never last.”

  Darq considered it and nodded firmly. “You’re right. It might not give us a significant advantage, but it would rob some of theirs.”

  “It could help us riders too,” Talas said. “We can maneuver through the trees. The firedrakes can’t, at least not well.”

  Darq nodded again. “The ambush will be on Arcacian soil, but it’s not like Daican hasn’t declared war. We’ll let everyone know once they’re up and spend the day scouting for the best location.”

  The first light of dawn brought everyone down from the bedrooms. Jace waited at the stairs for Kyrin as she gingerly took each step. He met her gaze and knew by the shadows around her eyes and her pale skin that she probably hadn’t slept any more than he had. He took her by the hand and helped her down the remaining steps. She had her brave face on, but everything about it spoke of fragility.

  Jorvik looked at her and Leetra. “I’ll make breakfast for you so you can be on your way.”

  Kyrin shook her head. “Nothing for me, please. I’ll eat along the way when I’m hungry, but not right n
ow.”

  “Me neither,” Leetra said, unusually subdued. “It’s best if we just get ready and go.”

  Kyrin lifted her gaze to Jace. “My pack is still in my room by the door. Will you get it for me?”

  He nodded and went up to the bedroom. The pack was where she said it would be. He picked it up, and a stabbing sensation filled his chest at the thought of her leaving. But she had to go. She had to be safe. He turned to the stairs again. Halfway down, he heard Marcus say, “Michael, go get your things. You’re going with Kyrin.”

  Michael’s eyes flew to his brother. “What? No way. I’m staying with you.”

  Marcus shook his head. “I will not argue over this. I let you come because I didn’t think there would be any danger, and I promised Mother I’d keep you safe. I intend to keep that promise.”

  Michael straightened. “I think I’m man enough to decide whether to face the risk or not.”

  “Michael . . .”

  “I won’t go.” He folded his arms stubbornly and reminded Jace very much of Kaden standing there. “You need every fighting man you can get, and you know I can fight. I’m not ten years old, Marcus. I can decide this for myself.”

  Marcus hesitated, sharing a look with both Kyrin and Kaden as if to gain their opinion. Neither one said anything.

  After a long moment, Marcus released a heavy sigh. “All right, but that doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it.”

  Michael drew his shoulders back and puffed out his chest. He would finally get his chance to fight. However, Kyrin’s face crumpled just slightly, despite remaining silent.

  Everyone left the cabin then and gathered by the dragons. Jace saddled Ivoris and secured Kyrin’s belongings before turning to her. That brave mask of hers looked right on the verge of shattering. She reached for his hand, gripping it tightly as she led him around Ivoris and away from the others. Here, he watched the mask break, piece by piece.

  “Please, just talk to me,” she said, her voice hoarse and trembling. “I don’t know if I can do this. I prayed so hard I’d never have to sit again and wonder if I’d lose all of you, but it’s happening. I was able to hope in Samara, but I don’t know if I can here. I’ll probably lose three of my brothers and most of my closest friends.” She paused, choking on her next words. “I’ll probably lose you, and I don’t know if I can bear that.”