Warriors of the Veil

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Warriors of the Veil Page 5

by Jill Williamson


  “Take that back to my king,” he said, clueless whether or not the bird could understand, but the creature ruffled its wings, leapt from Wix’s grasp, and took flight to the south. “Continue on without me, Wix,” Hinck said. “I must return to the castle right away.”

  “Rogedoth is advancing and we must prepare,” Hinck told the council. “Half our army will stay here with Duke Pixford and guard the castle. I will take the other half to the Sarikarian border house.”

  “But it’s not finished,” Saria said.

  “It’s finished enough that we can make a stand there,” Hinck said.

  “You cannot leave us,” Duke Pixford said. “You are our regent.”

  “Co-regent,” Hinck said. “Princess Saria will remain here.”

  “I will not,” she bloodvoiced. “If you’re going, so am I.”

  “You wanted to rule,” Hinck replied. “Here is your chance.”

  “I want to fight too,” she said.

  “This won’t do at all, Your Grace,” Duke Brixmead said. “I am very put out. We accepted you as our regent—”

  “Co-regent,” Hinck added again.

  “—and we expect our regent to remain here and rule us.”

  “Your Prince Mergest has begun his march,” Hinck said. “I have confirmation of it from Empress Inolah and now King Trevn.”

  “But what about the giants?” Duke Brixmead said.

  “Ulagan of the Uul-Yeke is sending twenty giants to us to help,” he said.

  “Only twenty?” Duke Pixford asked.

  “Send General Norcott to the border house,” Saria said. “He can handle it.”

  “The general is coming with me,” Hinck said.

  “But you are injured!” Saria said. “You cannot possibly wield a sword.”

  “I am not too injured to sit in a command tent,” Hinck said. “And if I must fight, pulling a bow is steady and slow, not like swinging a sword. I will be well, I assure you.”

  “Father Wolbair?” Saria asked. “What is Arman’s will in this matter?”

  Hinck’s interest perked. Yes, he should have consulted the prophet himself.

  “This is what the God says. ‘You, House of Sarikar, in times long past, broke from Armania when that nation fell away from me. But time has brought everything full circle, and now it is Armania that clings to my promises while you plot ways to avoid my will. I no longer act for one nation, but for each heart that serves me. I will gather my people from all the nations where they have been scattered. Only when they stand together in my name will I give them success against the evil they have brought to this land.’”

  Hinck shivered. The man’s prophetic voice had felt like Onika’s. Hinck knew the words had come from the mouth of Arman.

  “Those who follow Arman will prosper,” Hinck said. “We have that promise from the God himself. But he won’t bring success to those who won’t fight. So I will take our army south to hold our section of the border.” Hinck glanced to each face around the table. When no one spoke, he stood and walked out the door.

  “Hinck, wait.” Saria rushed out into the hall after him. “I want to come with you.”

  “That won’t do, Saria. You must stay here and guard your throne.”

  “But what if you don’t return?” Her golden eyes were glossy.

  Was she frightened to rule without him? Or worried that he might be killed? He tipped his head, trying to figure out what was bothering her. “I promise to return, Princess.”

  A sniffle. “That is not a promise you can make.”

  Hinck grinned. “I just did.”

  She grabbed his neck and kissed him. Hinck was so shocked he stood stiff as a tree, but Saria seemed intent on kissing him thoroughly, so he wrapped his arm around her waist and put in a little effort of his own.

  Someone cleared his throat. Saria tried to pull away, but Hinck held her in place. Duke Brixmead was standing in the doorway, watching them.

  “Ah, young love,” he said. “It isn’t always roses and singing birds, is it, Princess?”

  Saria pinched Hinck’s arm. He jumped, and she slipped out of his grasp, pushed past Duke Brixmead in the doorway, and disappeared inside the council room.

  Amused, Hinck reached for her mind. “Farewell, Saria. Until I return.”

  “Make it soon, please, my husband-to-be.”

  “I live to serve, Princess.”

  Oli

  Oli stood at the head of the table in the Wisean Council chambers. He had called together the war council and extra staff in hopes of quickly dealing with the catastrophe of their missing king. He had just read the message the Duchess of Highcliff had brought to him personally—her transcription of a message Trevn had sent to Hinckdan. Now everyone was talking at once.

  “Silence, please,” Oli said. “Let’s have one at a time. Master Jhorn?”

  “Chieftess Charlon cannot be trusted,” Jhorn said. “She’s a mantic.”

  “I agree that Charlon is unstable,” Sir Kalenek said, “but she loves Shanek. I’m not surprised she would side with us against the man who deceived her son.”

  “You say the poison silencing you will soon wear off,” Lord Idez said. “Once it has, you can speak to the king and find out if this message is real.”

  “If the message is a hoax and the king is still in custody,” Captain Veralla said, “surely they will continue to silence him. Even when you can speak again, he will likely not hear you.”

  “But if the message was true,” Danek said, “and the Chieftess is helping the king, then his magic should return with ours.”

  “Whether or not the king’s magic is restored doesn’t matter,” Oli said. “Once our magic is restored, the Veil warriors can travel to him.”

  “Yes.” Danek nodded to Oli. “Wisely said, Your Grace.”

  “We are living in the midst of a great battle,” Miss Onika said.

  “Indeed,” Oli said. “And we must prepare for the coming attack.”

  “You are right, Your Grace, we must,” Miss Onika said. “But I was not speaking of the war with your former pontiff. What I speak of is so much bigger. Long ago Gâzar declared war on all who follow Arman. His minions are loose and wild in the Veil, creating havoc wherever they go. They must be stopped. Arman is raising his army. Those who ally with the God against this invasion of darkness share in his authority over it. We must rise up—speak up. Stand united with the God. His enemy has made his move. We must make ours.”

  Oli did not deny that the prophetess’s words were true—he well knew Gâzar’s ways of darkness—but he disliked her vagueness. “What do you recommend, prophetess?”

  “We must pray,” she said. “For our king and queen’s safety, for Grayson and the missing guards, and for our magic to return.”

  “Pray all you like,” Oli said. “I have no issue against it.”

  Miss Onika fixed him with a stern expression. “I meant that we should pray corporately for Arman’s intervention. Our magic is his. He gave it to us, and he has the power to restore it.”

  Oli couldn’t banish shadir, so he doubted his presence would help such an endeavor. He shrugged. “Miss Onika, by all means gather Arman’s most faithful and pray.”

  “And the rest of us?” Lord Idez said. “What will we do?”

  Oli fixed his attention on General Ensley. “Anything from the scouts?”

  “A rider came last night from the central border house,” the general said. “Rogedoth’s army is but a day away. Marshal Winstone and our army have already left to position themselves to intercept him. They will be ready.”

  That much was good. “Sir Kalenek, what is Shanek DanSâr capable of?” Oli asked.

  “Terrible magic,” the knighten said. “If he comes here, we would all be wise to obey him, at least until your magic returns.”

  “What can our magic do against him?” Oli asked.

  “Not enough, I’m guessing,” Jhorn said.

  “Veil warriors can destroy shadir,” Sir Kalene
k said. “That will help, since they are Shanek’s friends and advise him. But only Grayson stands a chance against Shanek’s magic.”

  “Where might Shanek have taken Master Grayson and our queen?” Oli asked.

  “To Rogedoth,” Sir Kalenek said, “since Shanek believes the man to be his ally. Shanek has no army of his own, and I can’t imagine he would know how to—”

  The door swung open and young Lady Trista entered, face gleaming from perspiration. Novan Heln followed behind.

  “You must hide yourselves, quickly!” The girl curtsied, breathing hard. “Enemy soldiers are invading the castle this very moment.”

  “Calm yourself, lady, and explain,” Oli said.

  Trista took a deep breath and flopped onto a chair Novan pulled out for her. “I saw the betrayer, the one they call Sâr Shanek. He is carrying Duke Everton’s soldiers inside the castle as I speak. One by one to the cellar, I believe. And Brisa told the duke you are likely meeting in this council room, and here is where they plan to come once they are all inside.”

  The room fell into chaos. Many began talking at once. Barek’s voice rose above the din.

  “Did you talk with Brisa?” he asked.

  “No, Father,” Lady Trista said. “Hirth Wallington came to our home this morning, looking for you. He gave me his message. He has long harbored feelings for Brisa. He could not accept that she chose Sir Jarmyn—a married man. Master Hirth said the Duke of Raine has a mantic and an army and has sided with Barthel Rogedoth. And he told me Sâr Shanek was carrying the enemy into the castle and where I might go to see for myself. The guards wouldn’t let Master Hirth inside the castle—he is being held in the gatehouse. But I went down to the kitchens, and I saw the truth of his message. We must hurry!”

  Oli couldn’t believe the foolishness of Brisa Hadar. “We must begin to evacuate the castle,” he said. “Women, children, servants. I want everyone out. Send them to Duke Highcliff’s manor, if you don’t mind, sir?”

  “Not at all,” Danek said. “I’ll go at once to inform my wife and prepare.”

  “Captain Veralla, I want a vast majority of the soldiers disguised as servants,” Oli said. “Wait. Make that any soldier who does not know someone within the armies of Tace Edekk or Finbar Wallington. Hopefully that will give us some hidden help, should we need it. Have those men stash extra weapons throughout the castle. And kill any trespassers. No mercy. But do so as stealthily as possible. I don’t want to alert the enemy. And Kipp,” he looked to his honor man, “take charge of finding serving uniforms for the soldiers. All of you, go now.”

  Captain Veralla and Kipp followed Danek out the door.

  “We cannot all abandon the castle,” Lord Idez said.

  “We will not,” Oli said. “We must hold it for the king’s return. Let us move our meeting to the mind-speak classroom. It’s not a place anyone would readily search.”

  “The castle is small enough that we will eventually be found,” Lord Idez said.

  “I only seek to afford us a little more time,” Oli said. “Ladies, I will not ask you to remain in the castle should you wish to leave. In fact, I would feel better if you relocated to a safe haven within the city.”

  “My place is with the king,” Miss Onika said. “I will wait for his return.”

  Sands, Oli forgot to inquire of Arman. “You are the king’s prophet,” he said to Onika. “Have you any word?”

  “From Arman, you mean?”

  “Yes.”

  “He has not spoken to me audibly today, but I have not spent much time in prayer. I would like to begin immediately.”

  “I will join her,” Zeroah said. “We are Veil warriors and must stay close until our magic is restored.”

  “I will stay as well,” Brelenah said, “though I would like Rashah and Vallah taken to safety first. Hrettah will stay with the Veil warriors.”

  “Send the girls and their staff to my home,” Lord Idez said. “My wife would love to have them.”

  “Thank you, Joret,” Oli said. “Where will you ladies be praying?”

  “We can use my chamber,” Brelenah said. “That way we will be close.”

  “I would come with you to pray,” Master Jhorn said.

  “We would welcome you, sir,” Brelenah said.

  “Go now,” Oli said. “Leave in groups, and keep watch for anyone suspicious. I must question Hirth Wallington.”

  Oli entered the gatehouse. Though it was chilly in the castle these days, the gatehouse was as cold as being outdoors in the winter snow. Hirth Wallington sat across from two guards at a small, roughhewn table. All three men stood when they saw Oli.

  “Your Grace, thank you for coming,” one of the guards said.

  Oli and Hirth had grown up together with Janek, trained side by side for years. “What do you know, Hirth?”

  His eyes fixed upon Oli. “The Duke of Raine is leading a rebellion in conjunction with the pending invasion from Barthel Rogedoth,” he said. “Yesterday his army set out for the fort New Sarikar has been building for Rosâr Trevn. They have with them a group of compelled Ahj-Yeke giants. Altogether they number two hundred seventy-some men.”

  Not more compelled giants. “Who compelled them?”

  “Master Natod,” Hirth said. “He is Tace Edekk’s onesent.”

  “I know him,” Oli said. “How many giants did he compel?”

  “Eighty-two, if I heard correctly. I was meant to march with them.” Hirth did not hang his head in shame or even look regretful. Rather he stared at Oli, jaw set, proud.

  “So, why didn’t you?” Oli asked.

  The question deflated his posture some. “It didn’t feel right to betray the king and all of Armanguard in such a way.”

  “Do you feel Barthel Rogedoth should be king of Armania?” Oli asked.

  “No, sir. I did once. But not now.”

  Oli narrowed his eyes. “What changed your mind?”

  “It started when I fought Rosâr Trevn that day on the practice field. He was brave, coming out there like that. Wasn’t his fault he hadn’t the skill. I began to wonder when I’d become so set against House Hadar. My brother, my father, my uncle, the other men . . . their negativity affected us all. We’d trained all our lives to support our king, to fight for him. I didn’t think we should falter from the vows we’d taken. They mean to put King Barthel on the throne in Armanguard, while my brother, Finnel, acts as regent in New Sarikar. It’s not right.”

  “Do you feel you made the wrong choice coming here?” Oli asked.

  “No. But I . . . my father, the other men, Lady Brisa . . . they’ll think I have.”

  “What has Lady Brisa to do with any of this?” Oli asked, curious where the woman was.

  “She believes in their cause. She uses her mind-speak magic to spy for them, told the one called Shanek to carry enemy soldiers into the cellar.”

  Oli tensed at this news. “Aren’t the two of you—?”

  “We were, Your Grace, but no longer. She told me she loves Sir Jarmyn.”

  “He’s a mantic too, you know,” Oli said. “At least he was. He’s never been good at anything but love spells. Janek taught him.”

  Hirth released a ragged breath. “Brisa is under a spell?”

  The hope in his voice sickened Oli. “I couldn’t say, but I would put her out of your mind, if I were you, Hirth. If she doesn’t die in the coming battles, she will likely be executed for treason.”

  Oli pulled Miss Onika from her prayers and told her all Hirth had said. “The moment your magic returns, you must find Lord Edekk and his army. And take care. Edekk has partnered with Rogedoth and has the mantic Natod at his disposal. As soon as you find them, count their numbers, determine how close they are to the Sarikarian border house, and inform the Duke of Armanguard to prepare for an ambush.”

  “Yes, Your Grace,” Miss Onika said.

  Oli returned to the mind-speak classroom and joined Captain Veralla at a table Master Hawley and some servants had set up. They began t
o coordinate defensive tactics for the castle. Those leaving the stronghold were being sent in small groups so as not to look suspicious. Oli sent Lord Idez and Sir Kalenek to the great hall. Lord Idez would remain there under the guise of being the highest-ranking noble on the premises. It would be his task to greet Shanek DanSâr if and when he arrived, to keep him from finding Oli, and to stall him. Oli wanted Sir Kalenek there as well in case Shanek traveled to his location again, and for his knowledge of the young man.

  There were three stairwells leading from the lower levels to the first floor. Oli sent twenty soldiers to each—men in complete uniform—in hopes of intimidating enemy soldiers. One peek above the landing, he hoped, would be enough to send the enemy back for an alternative plan.

  Oli was thankful Lady Brisa had no military wit and had told Sâr Shanek to carry the enemy to the cellar. They would have had greater success had he carried his army to the roof, from which they could have descended. “I want men on the roof as well,” he told Captain Veralla. “That is the only other entrance we have neglected to—”

  “Your Grace!” Sir Cadoc escorted Miss Onika inside the classroom.

  “What is it?” Oli asked.

  “My mind-speak magic has returned,” Onika said. “You could not hear me, so I wanted to come in person.”

  Oli tried to reach for the prophetess, but his magic was still hindered. “Has anyone else’s magic returned?”

  “Not that I know of,” she said. “The king still does not answer, nor does Grayson or the queen, but I would like to try to find them through the Veil.”

  “I insist you go to the king at once,” Oli said, eager to find Trevn. “No, wait.” He paused, frustrated. “Seek out Master Grayson instead. We need him to fight Sâr Shanek. Tell Brelenah and Zeroah to find the king and queen the moment their magic returns. And I still need you to find Lord Edekk and his army.”

  “Will you take the message to the rosârahs, Sir Cadoc?” Onika said. “I must lie down.”

  “Certainly, Miss Onika.” Sir Cadoc led her toward the longchairs in the back of the room.

 

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