From Darkness Won

by Jill Williamson

  Gren’s lips parted. “Achan’s ring? They almost took it?”

  “Arman did not let them. Gren, do you have some twine that I might use to put it back around my neck?”

  “Of course.”

  As Gren busied herself looking for twine, Averella took in their surroundings. The courtyard—which had been filled with merchants and animals the last time she was here—was deserted. The horses’ hooves and wagon wheels clacked over the cobblestone. “It must be a late hour.”

  “Which way to the stables, my lady?” Noam asked.

  “To the right of the fountain, past the temple.”

  The wagon turned sharply. Averella gripped the side and stared at the fountain. What once had been a beautiful cascade of water over the sculpture of the Mahanaim justice scales now oozed dark slime. She wrinkled her nose and turned toward the temple of Dâthos.

  The circular colonnade filled the northeastern corner of the courtyard. The black and white banners hung limp, moist from the stale air of Darkness.

  Noam stopped the wagon at the stables. Harnu got down and quickly bartered a trade with the stablemaster.

  “Any of them boats down there’ll do.” The stablemaster gestured toward narrow stone steps that led down to the canals. “You want to put up your horses, it will cost you extra.”

  Noam unharnessed the horses, but Harnu said, “Leave ’em to me. You and the women carry the supplies to the boat. I’ll meet you there.” He and the stablemaster each led a horse inside the stables.

  Noam stood staring after them.

  Averella set her hand against his arm. “He is taking his role to heart, is he not, Master Fox? Come, I am sure all will be well. Can you carry the larger pack?”

  The stairs leading down to the water were lit so poorly they could hardly see. They moved slowly down them until they reached a stone pier that stretched along a murky canal under the courtyard above. Dozens of small wooden boats were tethered along the pier. The occasional torch reflected off the dark water. On the end of the pier, to the far right of the stronghold, the canal turned and snaked between a city of buildings.

  They loaded their gear into the nearest boat and stood beside it, waiting for Harnu to return.

  “What about the horses?” Noam asked.

  “They will be fine in the stables,” Averella said. “We will do as the guards suggested: we will rent a room and plan what to do next.” Her words were more confident than she felt. Arman, show us the way.

  Gren paced along the waterfront. Noam stood at the foot of the stairs, staring up. Averella sat in the boat, rocking gently in the canal.

  A man yelled in the distance. A burst of orange flame arched overhead and landed on the thatched roof of a three story high building. A woman screamed.

  Another cluster of arrows, tips ablaze, passed over the sentry wall and hissed as they sank into the canal. Armor jangled above as guards ran to duty. Voices split the silent night.

  “From the east.”

  “It’s the Pawn King!”

  “Guard your thoughts, for he can enter your mind faster than Darkness.”

  Averella smiled, amused at this embellishment of Achan’s gifts. But her amusement changed her smile to a frown. For what did she truly know of Prince Gidon’s gifts? And since when did she feel comfortable calling him Achan? It was as if her heart knew something her mind hadn’t yet learned. Or remembered.

  Another sprinkling of fiery arrows fell from the sky.

  “He should be back by now!” Gren said.

  Averella reached for Harnu’s mind. Master Poe, are you well?

  My lady! The stronghold’s under attack. Soldiers have set up a siege engine in front of the stairs. I cannot reach you. I’ll find you later.

  Very well, Master Poe. Fare you well.

  An arrow landed in the boat. Gren screamed. Noam clambered into the tiny craft and tossed his pack on the arrow, snuffing the flame.

  “Into the boat.” Averella stood to help Gren into the craft.

  Gren looked over her shoulder at the staircase. “What about Harnu?”

  “He is trapped at the moment, as will we be if we do not move now. Come, Master Poe will find us later.”

  Averella pulled Gren into the boat.

  Noam helped her sit, then loosed the tether and pushed the boat away from the wall. He sat in the middle, facing the women, and started to row. “Where shall I take us?”

  Averella took in their surroundings again. Now that they were on the water, something about this canal felt familiar. “Out into the city.”

  An explosion of rock cracked overhead. Averella hunched down moments before a massive splash surged their boat forward. Pebbles and water rained over her head.

  Noam rowed faster. The canal twisted and turned around buildings, some burning, some dark as if their residents were still asleep.

  “My lady!” Noam said. “’Tis a fork. Which way?”

  Averella studied the paths before them. “Left.”

  Noam paddled the boat down the left canal. Averella’s heart thudded. Torchlight was scarce now. Darkness fell heavily upon them. She nudged Gren. “The lantern. Quickly.”

  Gren fiddled with the lantern. A rotting yellowstone building loomed ahead. The lantern burst aflame, spilling golden light over the boat.

  “Straight ahead, Master Fox. Through that hole in the wall.”

  “My lady, are you certain?”

  “Yes, though perhaps we should duck.”

  Averella tucked her head between her knees. Gren screamed. The temperature dropped suddenly and all was black but the light in their boat. Averella picked up the lantern and held it over her head. “Slow down, Master Fox. There will be some turns ahead. I just cannot remember… There!” Averella pointed to a narrow crack in another wall. “Through that opening.”

  Noam steered the craft through. The left side of the boat scraped against the stone wall.

  Averella’s skin crawled at the sound. She quickly scanned the walls. “Slightly right, through the gap that looks like the letter M.”

  Noam mumbled, “I don’t know my letters, my lady.”

  “Never mind that.” Averella set her hand on his shoulder and pointed. “It looks like the flapping wings of a bird.”

  “I see it.” Noam rowed them through the opening.

  “How do you know where we are going?” Gren asked.

  “I have been here before. This path leads to the dungeons. There!” She pointed to a stony ledge that ran along a wall to their distant left. “Stop the boat there.”

  Noam obeyed. He found a peg to anchor the boat to, and the three of them got out. It was silent, as if all was well above the castle.

  Averella took the lantern from Gren and made her way along the wall until her fingers found a gaping crack in the stone.

  She slipped inside and followed a narrow tunnel. Rock and minerals drowned the bitter smell as they moved away from the water and up a jagged stairwell carved from rock.

  An orange glow lit a narrow crack ahead. Averella set the lantern down. “We shall leave this for our return.” She inched between two wall-sized rocks. Voices came to her mind. Flashes from a different time, spoken here, in this same cave.

  “What did the letter say?” Achan asked.

  “You never read it?” Averella’s voice, raspy and strange in her memory.

  “I meant to, but I didn’t want Gidon to catch me.”

  “I cannot remember it word for word, but—”

  “She can’t spell.”

  “I noticed.”

  Achan sucked in a deep breath. “Tell me.”

  “Well, she said you were her true Kingsguard knight. She wanted you to run away from the prince. She wanted to marry you and not… Riga, was it? She loves you.”

  He blew out a sigh. “Figured it was something like that.”

  “Why did you throw it away?”

  Achan’s feet shuffled. “Because it didn’t matter what she wrote. It changes nothing.”

>   Averella’s stomach tightened. “How can you say that? It must have broken her heart to write those words. You should have cherished it.”

  He scoffed. “So I can read it again and again, dragging myself through the memories? That would be torture. Sparrow, you should have been born a woman.”

  Averella bit her lip, then shoved Achan, figuring that was what a boy would do when called a woman. She chose her next words carefully. “What’s wrong with remembering?”

  “It hurts, that’s what. And I want to forget. That’s why I tossed it.”

  “My lady!” someone whispered, angry, like a hushed yell.

  She blinked away from the past and met Noam’s brown eyed gaze. “Forgive me, Master Fox.” She pointed out the crack. “This corridor passes between two half flights of stairs that separate the first and second dungeon levels. We are already past the gate. We must watch for guards who might be patrolling. Are you ready?”

  “Suppose I’ll have to be,” Noam said.

  “Gren, wait here. If anything should happen, go back for Master Poe.”

  “As if I could find my way out of that maze. I’m coming with you. I’ll pretend to be Sir Rigil’s sister.”

  Averella choked back a laugh. The very idea of this peasant girl being mistaken for Lady Viola…

  “That’s a good idea,” Noam said. “But Lady Averella would be more convincing, don’t you think? Do you know whether Sir Rigil has siblings, my lady?”

  “Well, yes. His elder sister is married to my cousin. She is not much older than I am. I suppose I might pass as her. Sir Rigil also has a half-brother, my fath…” A gust of knowledge rushed through Averella. Her father was Sir Rigil’s half-brother. When had she learned this?

  “Think I could pretend to be the brother?” Noam asked. “What is his name?”

  “Sir Eagan Elk. I don’t think it would be wise to claim to be him, Master Fox. He is in his late forties and is a famous knight from King Axel’s reign.” Averella took a deep breath. These sudden memories made her feel like a woman in the Veil, floating between two realities. “I shall be Lady Viola. And since you are dressed as such, you both will be my servants. First let me call to Master Rennan. Perhaps he can help us find his cell sooner.”

  Master Rennan? We are in the dungeons of Mahanaim, past the guard. Can you tell me where your cell is?

  How in all Er’Rets did you get past the guard?

  Never mind that. We must make haste.

  Of course. Well, once you are past the guard, turn left at the foot of the stairs. Follow that corridor to the corner, turn right, and go to the end of the next corridor. Our cell is on the right. I shall watch for you.

  Averella squeezed through the crack. Her skirt scratched against the rough rock. She walked along the corridor as if she had done so all her life. She descended the steps, her skirt dragging behind her. The stench of urine and body odor assaulted her senses.

  At the foot of the stairs, she turned and continued down to the third and final level. When she reached the floor, she picked up her skirt to keep it from dragging on the filthy floor and turned left. Their footsteps scuffed along. She reached the end and turned right. At the end of the corridor, a guard turned the corner and walked straight toward them.

  Arman, help us!

  19

  Achan’s head still throbbed two hours later as he sat in yet another meeting of the war council that Sir Gavin had called to discuss his discoveries from his scouting mission. Only this time, Sir Eagan and Captain Demry were absent.

  The coin Sir Gavin had given him at his coming-of-age ceremony sat on the edge of the table in front of him. Achan sipped his tea, staring at his father’s profile on the gold, numb at the knowledge he now possessed.

  Had Sparrow’s accusations been right? Would Achan go the way of the other kings of Er’Rets and indulge in whatever pleased him? Or would he find the strength to flee, as Sir Caleb suggested he could? Would he even remember Arman when such enticements turned his head?

  He took another sip. The morning air was cool so near the coast, and Matthias’s tea kept him warm and would hopefully soothe his headache. “What did you discover on your scouting mission, Sir Gavin?”

  The old knight leaned forward until he met Achan’s gaze. “Four hundred soldiers, ten black knights, four cham riders, and two tanniyn.”

  Achan choked on his tea at the mention of sea beasts. “Tanniyn are real?”

  “Aye. They almost never come near shore. The only one I’ve ever seen—until last night—was when I sailed from Tsaftown to Armonguard aboard one of Lord Livna’s ships.”

  Achan could only stare. “You saw one last night?”

  “Two of them, between the Reshon Gates. The mere fact that the gates still stand is proof enough that the beasts are being controlled. Without careful instruction from a man, they would easily knock down the gates. I messaged you to look through me to see them, but you didn’t respond.”

  Achan lowered his gaze back to the coin, ashamed of his behavior the previous night. Sir Gavin had needed him, and he had been caught up in Kurtz’s games. His father’s games. Yet he was almost grateful he had missed the opportunity to see the sea beasts. The cham bear still gave him nightmares.

  “And we mustn’t be forgetting the gods,” Inko said. “The Hadad will be conjuring every idol he can. Barthos, Dendron, Dalakesh, Thalassa, Zitheos—”

  “Unless Sir Eagan succeeds in his mission to kill the Hadad. Besides, you know how to fight the idols now, right, Your Highness?” Sir Gavin asked.

  Achan nodded. He only hoped the Hadad would not call them all together at once.

  “I will lead my men to the eastern Reshon Gate,” Sir Gavin said. “The remaining soldiers will pack up camp and be ready to move on my command. Your Highness, you will enter the Veil with Duchess Amal and deal with the black knights and beasts by means of storming. Captain Demry and his fighting five hundred are already nearing Mahanaim.”

  “He’s five hundred now instead of fifteen?” Achan asked.

  “Aye. Captain Demry has claimed the Ice Island men and a portion of the Tsaftown army for his own. Their purpose is to distract the Hadad, make him think we’re attacking Mahanaim. While the five hundred attack, Sir Eagan will find and assassinate the Hadad.”

  An insane mission. “He volunteered, didn’t he?” Achan asked.

  Sir Gavin nodded. “Aye, he did.”

  The same man who had told him that vengeance belonged to Arman. Achan took another drink of tea. “How will he find the Hadad with all the fighting?”

  “We know he hides in his tower, issuing commands and using his mind to influence others. If we can take him out now, the next battle will be smoother.”

  “When do you ride out?”

  “As soon as we’re done here.”

  “Where will I go to meet the duchess?”

  “You will go to your wagon. Your guards will stay with you. Sir Shung will watch over your body as you work with Duchess Amal. Should the army move while you are in the Veil, you will be ready for travel. If all goes well, you’ll awake on the southern shore of the Lebab Inlet.”

  It all seemed so easy.

  After the meeting, Sir Gavin and his army rode off. Achan returned to his wagon with Shung, Cortland, Kurtz, and Manu at his heels. As he made himself comfortable on one of the sofas and waited for Duchess Amal to contact him, he thought of Sparrow. He hoped she would be out of harm’s way when Captain Demry attacked.

  Arman, keep Sparrow safe. Help her to remember and to change her mind about me. I know that’s a selfish prayer, but I offer it with the faith that You can do anything. If it’s not Your will, let the pain pass quickly, for I have much to focus on. May it be as You decree.

  He grabbed an apple and bit into it. If Darkness claimed the rest of Er’Rets, no more fruit would grow. What would they eat? Gowzals? He took another juicy bite. I do not understand what You want of me, Arman. Why You’ve chosen me. What can I do that others cannot? I am just one
man.

  He lay back, humming Yumikak’s song in hopes the tune would comfort his fears. The wagon rocked. Achan glanced at the entrance to see Shung climb inside.

  He walked to where Achan lay on the sofa and scowled. “Where did Little Cham learn that song?”

  Achan pushed up onto one elbow. “In Berland. Yumikak sang—”

  “Yumikak had no right. It is tradition.”

  Achan recalled Sir Caleb’s explanation. “That a woman sing it to her betrothed?”

  Shung nodded. “Song not to be sung carelessly.”

  Achan lay back. “I’m sorry, Shung. I’ll try not to hum it anymore, but it’s a catchy tune, and Sparrow sang it often. It reminds me of her.” Achan sat up, suddenly and swung his feet to the floor. “Wait a minute. Lady Gali sang that song to you, Shung. Did you ask her to marry you?”

  “Must ask her father first, but…” Shung grinned, exposing his yellow teeth. “Too strong, I guess, Shung’s pull on women.”

  Achan laughed. “Of that I have no doubt.”

  Shung fell onto the sofa on the other end of the wagon. “Little Fox sang song to Little Cham?”

  “Aye, she did.” Achan sighed. “But she doesn’t remember, Shung. She’s forgotten me.”

  Shung frowned. “But how can—”

  Duchess Amal.

  Achan held up a hand. “It’s the duchess. You ready?”

  Shung nodded.

  “Good.” Achan lay back on the sofa. “Because I’m not sure I am.”

  “The little cham is a warrior. Will defeat many before taking the throne.”

  “Thanks, Shung.” If only he had as much confidence in himself. He opened his mind to the duchess. Hello, my lady.

  Your Highness, we have quite a task ahead. Are you feeling well-rested?

  Achan winced, scolding himself yet again for his overindulgence of wine the previous evening. I’ll do my best, my lady.

  Then come to me, for I sit at your side.