by Kris Kramer
Chapter 32
"Move!"
Aiden's command boomed in Riordan’s ear as a strong hand grabbed his arm just under the shoulder, hauling him up off the ground. He was dazed and his vision blurry, but he didn't have to see clearly to know what had happened. He recognized the magic of a dominator. Luckily, it was a glancing blow, and he came to his senses quickly, but Aiden was right. They needed to move before their luck changed.
"Back to the tower!" Aiden shouted those words over and over, and Riordan followed without thinking. His vision cleared as they ran south, back the way they'd come, and he turned his head left and right to make sure no one had been left behind. Kat and Malcolm ran on either side of him, and Finias trailed a step behind. About a hundred paces behind the young archer, however, were dozens of Anduain invaders streaming over the hill, with a single, brazen elven dominator leading the charge.
Riordan heard a clang to his right, and he turned to see Malcolm stumble forward from the force of an arrow that must have glanced off his shoulder. He held out a steadying hand, and Malcolm regained his footing then gave a quick nod of gratitude. Several more bolts of magic flew wildly around them, exploding into flashes of black dotted with silver, like patches of the night sky. An arrow whistled as it sailed just over his head, and a magical bolt hit a tree a few paces to his left, causing bark and splinters to spray out. Kat let out a muffled scream, and Riordan slowed to make sure she was okay. Her eyes were wide and her face had turned white, but physically she was unhurt, so he grabbed her arm and dragged her along. He moved by instinct now, staying low, moving fast, creating space and giving his enemies little to no target. He'd done this for over twenty years, and he didn't even think about it anymore. He did feel fear, but it wasn't from the Anduains. He feared not making it back. He was afraid that after all this time, so close to returning to the caves, he could be stopped almost within sight of his goal.
They reached the tower, where two spearmen waited on either side of the oak double doors, armored in full chain with spears in one hand and shields in the other, each gripping the large iron handle of one door. They waved Riordan and the others into the tower.
"Close the doors!" Aiden shouted as they passed through the entryway. "Anduains are attacking from the west!"
The two guards stepped inside after them and pulled the doors shut with a thud. A stocky younger man, probably in his mid-twenties, met them inside. He wore the uniform of a decnar, chain armor topped with a plate hauberk, covered with a red and blue surcoat with a fox emblem. The man looked almost as scared as Kat. "What in the Goddess's name is happening out there?" he demanded. Two other men waited behind him, an archer and an armsman.
"There's an army outside. Anduain," Aiden said, trying to catch his breath. "They came over the west hills. Did your men see their approach?"
The decnar looked confused. He turned to look at the archer who just shook his head. "No. We didn't see anything."
"You need to get this door barricaded and get the archers and casters up top fast. Where's the centnar?" Aiden shouted, asking for the man’s commander. The decnar opened his mouth to respond, but then he saw Aiden's brand, uncovered now that Aiden's hood had blown back during the run to the tower. A look of disgust swept across his face, and Aiden must have realized what happened, because his tone suddenly changed. "Where is your centnar?" he asked again, calmly.
The decnar still seemed flustered by the events. "He's at Annsmoor," he said, but he looked at Riordan now. "We had a wizard arrive some time ago, hurt, and he went to fetch a priest."
"You're in charge, then?" Aiden asked.
"I am," the decnar stiffened. "I'm decnar Alder, of the South Brigade, Army of the Falcon. I serve under Lord Harrel. I'd take care to remember that. Especially you."
Aiden noticeably tried to compose himself. "Decnar Alder, the signal fire needs to be lit–" Aiden stopped when he heard a shout from above. The men up top had apparently seen the Anduains approaching.
"I don't need you to tell me how to do my job out here," Alder said to Aiden.
Riordan felt his patience wearing thin. If they didn't hurry, they'd be dead, and this soldier, as well-meaning as he may be, would be a barrier to that if he didn't let experienced people take charge.
"Decnar, my name is Riordan, of the Warhounds. I served under Lord Andreas of Devrin, the grandson of the Earl of Sothera. Do you know who that is?"
Alder said nothing at first. His face showed that he knew those names, though whether he believed Riordan or not he wasn't yet sure. The roars of encroaching Anduains outside reminded everyone of their predicament, though, and Alder shook his head quickly. "Of–of course, sir. I know of you."
"Then do me this favor. Consider everything this man says," he pointed to Aiden, "as a command coming from my own mouth. Do you understand?"
Alder said nothing, his incessant blinking the only clue to his consciousness. Riordan grew more frustrated by the second. Finally, "Him, sir?"
"Did you not hear me the first time?" Riordan said sharply, trying to sound as imposing as he could. It wasn't natural for him, but time was of the essence. He was too close now to let anything else slow him down.
"Yes, sir. I did."
"Good. Then get your men ready to defend this tower." His hand started to shake and he instinctively clenched it into a fist.
"Yes," Alder said, flustered. "Of course. Umm–"
"Get your archers to the top of the tower and light the signal fire," Aiden said. "Everyone else needs to stay down here and barricade this door with anything that moves. You," Aiden grabbed Malcolm's chest plate at the shoulder, "stay with me." Malcolm nodded and moved next to Aiden, looking lost. Aiden turned to Riordan next. "Can you check up top?"
Riordan nodded and headed for the stairs. "Finias. Kat. Follow me, please," he said, and they both eagerly moved up the stairs behind him, although Kat still seemed shaken by the ordeal. Riordan had been here many times before, and he knew the place like the back of his hand. The tower consisted of three levels, the bottom floor, which housed a small barracks and stable, a mid-level floor where the centnar’s quarters and a storeroom could be found, and a top level, basically a roof surrounded by stone battlements. The stairs were built into the walls, wrapping around one half of the floor on its way to the next. The second floor stairs only went to a landing halfway up, though, where a ladder reached up to a wooden panel in the ceiling that opened out onto the roof.
"Excuse me, sir," Alder said, suddenly appearing next to Riordan as they approached the second floor landing. "You're a priest, aren't you?"
"I am."
"I was thinking," he began, "that you could look at the wizard who showed up earlier. He's in bad shape, but if you could heal him, he could help us here."
"Of course, where is he?"
"He's in the centnar’s quarters." Alder motioned behind him. "It's the room we just passed."
"Certainly," Riordan said. "After I find out what we're up against."
After climbing the ladder, they stepped onto the roof. The battlements circled the edge, with wide embrasures, or crenels, between them. The crenels allowed archers and casters to attack from above while also providing some cover. Two archers stood near the edge, each wearing full studded armor covered by red and blue livery, firing arrows down onto the Anduain invaders. They glanced at the newcomers and nodded to the decnar, but continued their assault unabated. Riordan led Finias and Kat to the edge of the wall and peered down through the closest opening. He saw around fifty Anduains below him attacking the front of the tower, while three times that number seemed to be moving down the slope of the hill toward the bridge that led across the river. This was no small force. This was the beginning of an invasion.
Riordan leaned back and let Kat and Finias take a look. "Careful," he said. "Don't linger, or else they'll get a good shot at you." Kat quickly stepped back, but Finias took his time, carefully gauging the enemy. An arrow bounced off the stone next to him and everyone nearby duc
ked. Riordan backed away from the edge, and then motioned to the battlements nearest him. "You two should set up there. I'll try to be back shortly to check on you. Finias," he said, and the young archer looked at him. "Try to keep an eye on Kat."
Finias smirked, then pulled out his bow. "She'll be okay."
Riordan walked back to the ladder, but as he turned he saw something that made him stop in mid-stride. To the east, across the water, stood a man that hadn't been there a moment ago. He was short, bald, with pale skin and dark eyes, and his mouth moved, but Riordan couldn't hear his words, nor did he need to. Riordan blinked, and the man disappeared, but his hand started shaking, and he quickly shut his eyes, trying to fight off the urge to run as fast as he could to the spot where the heretic had been standing. The urge was powerful, so much so that he feared what it might be doing to him. He felt his eyelids flicking open and closed, shuttering like hummingbird wings, and his legs lost their strength. He reached out to the ladder, to steady himself, but it wasn't there.
He stood in a vast wheat field. It was his field. His farm. He saw the brown timbered house where he lived off in the distance, and three children, his children, playing in front. He smiled, and walked back to them, so he could scoop them up in his arms, and kiss each one on the cheek. He hoped his wife was inside, preparing dinner, and then they'd all eat and–and... He slowed his pace, confused. He couldn't remember his wife's name. He struggled, thinking it was just on the tip of his tongue, but nothing came to him. Maybe his oldest son would remember. But now the boy’s name was gone from his memory. As were the other two. He couldn't remember anything about them now.
A blast of magic hitting the battlements shook him from his dream, and he nearly stumbled forward reaching for the ladder. After steadying himself, he looked around, and noticed that everyone was still exactly where they'd been. Everything had happened in an instant, just like it always did. He quickly hurried down the ladder and once he reached the landing below he took a deep breath. His waking dreams were far less frequent now than when he'd been a captive, but it was still jarring when he came back to reality. He heard a noise above and saw Alder following him down. He waited until Alder reached the landing and then they walked down the stairs to the second floor.
"Why did your centnar go to the keep?" Riordan asked, feeling the need to say something. "Why didn't he send someone instead?"
"We've had problems getting men and supplies from other outposts. He wanted to go himself so he could yell at someone about it."
"Terrible timing, I'd say."
"Of course, sir."
"The wizard is here?" Riordan said, pointing to the door at the bottom of the stairs.
"Yes, inside. That's the centnar’s quarters."
"I'll check on him. Go back down and tell everyone what we saw."
"Right away," Alder said, and he bounded around the corner and down the next stairwell. Riordan heard an explosion outside the walls as he reached for the door handle – dominators and wraiths trying to attack the doors, he presumed – and he cursed his luck for running into a marauding army of Anduains just as he’d almost made it back to Teekwood. His agitation turned to anger, and his mind raced back to those three months he'd spent in a dungeon, alone in the dark, and how he'd bided his time until he could make it back. All of that was about to be wasted, thanks to some terrible, terrible timing.
Inside was a meager office, with a simple wooden desk sitting in front of a small window slit, some maps arrayed on the walls, an empty armor stand in the corner to his left, and a wooden cot to his right. A disheveled man with long, stringy white hair lay asleep in the cot, facing the wall, wearing purple robes covered in mud and dirt. Riordan stepped close and leaned over to examine the man's wounds, but he found no obvious ones. In fact, this wizard seemed to be more malnourished and exhausted than injured.
"Wake up." He patted the wizard’s arm, trying to wake him gently, although the fact that he'd slept through the commotion up to this point meant he might need to resort to rougher tactics. Surprisingly, the wizard's eyes flittered open, and he turned to face the priest, who was now kneeling on the ground next to him. Riordan had initially thought this man was a bit older than him, due to his white hair and haggard appearance, but now he thought him younger, probably around his own age. In fact, as he stared at the gaunt face before him, he started to realize that he recognized the man under the dirt and mud.
And Riordan smiled, for he knew that fate had struck again, just as it had when he witnessed Aiden on the streets of Corendar. This was no ordinary wizard. The man he saw lying before him was his friend and fellow Warhound, lost to him in the caverns on that fateful day three months ago.
"Landon?" he asked, hoping he wasn't imagining this, too.
The wizard slowly looked up at him, his eyes squinting, then opening in surprise. "Riordan?" he whispered, staring back as if wondering himself whether this was a dream. "Is that you?"
Riordan gave his old friend a hug. "It is. I'm here."
"I can't believe I found you," Landon said. His voice was hoarse and raw, like he hadn't spoken in some time.
"Found me?" Riordan was surprised. "How are you even here? I thought you were still down in those caves."
"I was. I..." his voice trailed off and he seemed lost in thought. Then, "I escaped. I'm not sure how."
Riordan heard a loud thump from below, and he grimaced. The Anduains had a ram up on the door, and they would break through in moments.
"I'm going to heal you, Landon. Are you hurt anywhere?"
Landon thought about that for a moment, then shook his head. "I'm tired," he said.
"I can fix that." He began casting a spell, one that would return some life to his weary friend. He’d barely started, though, before guilt tugged horribly at his soul. He wanted to go back to where his friends were. That's what he told Aiden and Finias. But he wasn't going there to save them, no matter how much he pretended that to be the case. He couldn't tell them the real reason, not until they saw it for themselves, and they would, soon. But he'd been able to accept his lies up to this point because he thought the Warhounds were already beyond saving. He thought they were either dead, or in a place they didn't need rescue from.
But now, seeing Landon here, he knew there really was a chance to save everyone. And that went against everything he'd hoped for the last three months. If he'd made it out, the others could, too. And the idea of that tore him apart inside.
"Landon, we're going back to the caves," Riordan said, the lie coming naturally to him by now, "to save the others."
"I know," Landon said quietly. "That's why I'm here."
"What?"
"I don't know how I escaped, but I know who helped me. He saved me, Riordan. He sent me to find help." Landon smiled.
"Who did?" Riordan asked.
"King Damhran," Landon said reverently. "He's returned to save us all."
