“Good, no weapon damage, you did well,” Berick said to a figure stood out of Meran’s view. Shocked to his core, Meran could not take his eyes off his fallen master and the blood spreading from his crushed head.
“If we lodge his foot into the stirrup and drag him a short distance, it will look as if he fell out of the saddle for some reason and was dragged to his death,” came the reply. The voice was hard and cold, but oddly familiar.
“Very well. Thank you again for your assistance. I assume there will be no loose ends?” Berick asked, looking pointedly at the three dead and two still-standing attackers, who seemed oblivious to the arrangements being made for their deaths.
“No loose ends,” the cold voice agreed. “But you will keep up your end of the bargain; you will help me incapacitate Conlan Baydon and his group?”
“As we arranged, as long as you promise that whoever I send to you will not become a loose end. Why are you so sure they are coming?” Berick asked.
“I have it on very good authority that they will be here at some point,” the voice said knowingly. Berick nodded, clearly wanting to know more.
The memory began to break up under the force of Meran’s grief, and Eleanor knew she was going to get no more. Meran shuddered and she sent him the mental equivalent of a comforting hug. She tried to tell the animal that it had not been his fault, that the person Meran should be blaming was Berick. Eleanor felt something stir in the horse’s beaten-down mind; it was anger, an understanding of its own memories through Eleanor’s explanation that Berick had killed his master. Rage shot through Meran as he looked around him, taking in the world for the first time in a while. Worried that the horse would do something rash, Eleanor sent him a feeling that all was in order, that he would get his revenge, but he must wait and bide his time. Meran agreed, but Eleanor could see that his whole body was alert, an echo of the once proud animal in his eyes. She left her energy string in Meran’s head, monitoring his mood, in case he changed his mind about attacking Berick, but the bigger part of her concentration was occupied analysing Berick’s and the strangers’ conversation. Laurice had said her husband had died three moons ago, approximately three months; her understanding of time was a little hazy here, but she felt fairly certain that she had only just destroyed Nethrus three months ago. Their attacker had been waiting for them and knew they were coming, even before she had announced herself to the Lords of Mydren with the earthquake. How had Daratus known? What if Gregor was not as powerful as Merl had said? Eleanor wondered, with a sinking dread, whether Gregor was still alive. Next time she found a jewellery shop with Remic’s symbol, she would ask them to find out.
Eleanor’s worried thoughts were interrupted when she saw four figures moving towards them through the open double doors, the sunlight making them nothing more than dark shapes until they got closer, but the swaying walk and tinkling of their belts identified Laurice and Urerla long before Eleanor could actually see their faces. Nials stood at Urerla’s side and another man she did not recognise stood at Laurice’s side. All four had swords strapped to their waists.
“Berick, I’m surprised to see you here. I was told you were too busy to attend today,” Laurice said. There was no trace of suspicion in her voice, which worried Eleanor, because if the woman could not conceive her brother as a traitor, convincing her was going to be difficult.
“Orno was not just your husband, Laurice, he was like a brother. I too wish to know what happened to him,” Berick replied with a serious frown. Meran heard Berick talk, realised who he was and took an impatient step forward, pawing the ground with his hoof. Eleanor sent him soothing, calming feelings – his time would come, she assured him.
Laurice looked at Meran in surprise and ran an affectionate hand down his neck. “This is the most life I have seen him display in many moons. I wonder if he knows what is going on?” she whispered.
“Step forward, Avatar of Earth,” Nials said, looking at her. Wondering when Nials intended to make his move, Eleanor nodded and walked into the middle of the room, trying not to stare at the fine spray of blood she could see on the floor. Her blood.
“Having spoken with Conlan Baydon, I am told you can read Meran’s thoughts and memories simply by touching him,” Laurice said. Eleanor nodded. “Then please, ask Meran how my husband died,” she said, anguish in her voice. Eleanor stepped forward. She did not need to be touching the horse to talk to him, and Conlan knew that; was there a plan here? She took Laurice’s place next to Meran, gently running her hand down the animal’s neck. He turned to look at her. Through their link Meran sent her another thought, a desire to end it; when he had destroyed Berick he wanted his life to finish. Eleanor’s heart twisted and she sent the horse a strong sense of a life still to live, of things still to do, that losing a loved one was not the end. The horse scoffed at her – what did she know? Eleanor sent Meran her memories of Rand, everything, all her love for him, and showed Meran how much Conlan had loved his horse. She then sent the memory of Rand’s death, knowing that tears were running down her face. Meran watched the thoughts in his head and felt Conlan’s grief. He identified with it. Eleanor tried to give Meran the impression that Conlan was also tormented by grief, yet he still kept going, still met each day with resilience, because Rand would not have wanted the master he loved to curl up in a ball and die, just as Eleanor was certain that Orno would not have wanted the horse he loved to end his life prematurely.
“Well?” asked Nials, his sharp question snapping Eleanor out of her conversation with Meran. She turned to face Laurice.
“Meran says Berick killed your husband,” she said loudly and clearly. Laurice did not look surprised. She looked at her brother with burning hatred.
“Why?” was all she asked. Berick sneered at her.
“This is the first time the Nardar Tribe have held the Heart in over sixty years, and what are you doing with it? Nothing! Every year the Lords of Mydren get closer and closer to our lands, and what are you doing to stop them? I have made a deal. I get rid of you, take control of the Heart and the eight tribes, we swear allegiance to the Lords of Mydren and they leave us alone, our land is protected.”
Eleanor saw anger flow through Laurice as she moved out of Meran’s shadow so she could focus on Berick.
“Do you really think the Lords of Mydren will honour that promise?” Laurice asked, with utter contempt running through the Dwarfish.
“I suspect he knows they will not honour their promise,” Eleanor said with slow calm. “But he does not care. He is going to get control – power – for the first time in his life. Meran told me that tribal power is passed down the female line, and a man can only take the role if no other option is available. He has been so close to true power his whole life, but never touched it.”
“You would have destroyed your people, if you had succeeded?” Laurice enquired, her tone measured and only her eyes showing her fury.
Berick smiled at her. “But I have succeeded,” he said. “Kill them!”
Eleanor saw movement and heard the metallic swish of swords pulled from scabbards as thirty men moved out of the stalls they had been hiding in and advanced upon them. Drawing energy from the earth she blasted at the nearest man. The air a few feet in front of her exploded in dazzling colour, bright green and golden brown, the colour moving across a circular barrier that surrounded them all. Amelia’s shield, Amelia is protecting us. Eleanor’s heart leapt in her chest; she was not alone, they were here. She resisted the urge to look around her. She would not give their position away – she would make their enemy think this was all her doing.
“I have erected an impenetrable barrier between us,” she said to Berick. “Exactly how many loyal men do you have? Not enough, I am thinking, or subterfuge would not have been necessary in the first place.”
Berick stared at her with malignant hatred, a slow grin spreading across his face. He drew breath to speak, but before he got the chance, the men stood around the edge of the shield began dropping to t
he floor one by one, screaming and writhing in agony for a few seconds and then laying still. Their movements looked familiar, similar to what Conlan had suffered when she had loosed Will’s energy on him, but this was much faster, much more powerful. This was killing. So that’s what it looks like when Will releases drawn energy. Berick watched in horror as his men dropped dead in front of him. The men looked at each other in terror, some tried to hide back in the stalls and several others began hammering their swords on Amelia’s shield. Harnlyn ran for the open door, bursting into flames before he had gone five feet. He toppled over, burning so quickly he did not even have time to scream. Eleanor raised her eyes from his smoking corpse and saw Will, Freddie, Amelia and Conlan stood in a line several feet beyond him, silhouetted by the light from the open door which framed them in sunlight. My guardian angels. She turned back to Berick, glaring at him, but he was looking at something over her head. He nodded, once. Eleanor whipped round again in time to see the guard at Laurice’s side slam the hilt of his sword into Nials’ face. The horseman’s eyes rolled in his head. Blood flowing heavily from his nose and mouth, he fell over on his back, unconscious. Urerla stared in horror and dropped to her knees at Nials’ side. The traitorous guard wasted not a moment and slammed her in the head, too. She collapsed over Nials, blood trickling from her hairline. Laurice was not as easy to dispatch, and as the guard bore down on her she drew her sword. Eleanor glanced back at Merl, who looked at her in horror. The guard and Laurice were too close for Eleanor to blast at him, so she ran towards Nials as the two circled. She heard the metallic clash of the first thrusts and parries as the two engaged; Laurice could hold her own. Eleanor checked Nials and Urerla’s pulses and found that both were strong. However, Nials was choking on his own blood, so Eleanor pulled Urerla off him and turned the unconscious man over to make sure he could breathe by putting him into the recovery position. She then took his sword from him and turned to help Laurice.
Laurice was putting up a worthy fight, but the guard was stronger, had her off balance and was pounding at her with powerful overhead blows she was just about managing to deflect. As Eleanor watched the woman’s defence crumble, the guard knocked her sword out of her hand, stepped forward and bashed her in the side of head. Laurice dropped to the ground. The guard stepped behind her, pulling her up by her hair and pressing his blade into her neck.
“It would seem I have the advantage again, Avatar,” Berick said smugly. He was focused on Eleanor and did not seem to have noticed the others yet.
“You cannot win this, Berick, you must know that. The minute you kill Laurice, you lose all leverage. I will destroy you, and Urerla will take control of the Nardar Tribe. Your only option is to release Laurice and beg for her mercy,” Eleanor told him. Berick seemed to consider this suggestion, the smug smile not leaving his face.
“Drop your defences,” Berick ordered.
Eleanor sighed. Why did everything always have to be so difficult? “Berick, are you in a rush to die?” she enquired. Berick said nothing but nodded at the guard, who moved slightly. Laurice cried out in pain and blood began to dribble down her neck. He turned his gaze back to Eleanor, his meaning clear: your move.
Eleanor shrugged. “It will not save you, but I will drop my shield,” she said loudly, hoping Amelia would take the hint. Berick stepped cautiously forward, his hand in front of him and smiling as he failed to encounter any resistance. Eleanor felt an energy string brush against her and felt Will’s presence fill her mind.
You have no idea how good it is to see you, she told him.
We’d never willingly let you fight on your own, Eleanor. Nials came to see us after you left and asked us to step in. What are we going to do about Berick?
I promised Meran he could kill Berick.
“Drop your weapon, Avatar,” Berick ordered.
You promised the horse revenge? Will asked. Concentrating more on her conversation with Will than Berick, Eleanor chucked Nials’ sword to the side.
Yes, she said, feeling a little angry. You didn’t feel his grief, Will. He’s punishing himself for failing to protect his master, so revenge was the least I could do. Can you kill the man holding Laurice?
Unfortunately he’s too close to Laurice – we don’t have that kind of control. Anything we do at this point will be risking her life, too.
“If I cannot win, little Avatar, I will make sure that Laurice does not win either,” Berick snarled. Eleanor felt Meran’s mind as the horse realised that the man he wanted to kill was within striking distance; she told him to wait, the time was coming. The horse snorted impatiently.
“Is a lack of absolute power really so bad, Berick?” Eleanor asked. Not that she cared, but she needed time to think, and keeping Berick talking might provide it.
“Says an abomination of pure power,” he sneered, launching himself into a rambling justification of his actions.
Will, I have an idea.
What do you have in mind, Eleanor?
Well, if you release drawn energy, people jitter to death in seconds, but when I took energy from you and released it at Conlan it was weaker. He didn’t die, but it was unpleasant…
You want to pull my energy and release it at Laurice and the guard, reduce its impact?
Yes.
Freddie can do it, he has the best control.
OK, I’ll tell Meran what we’re going to do – that way, once Laurice and the guard are out of the picture, he can attack Berick.
OK, give me a second to tell the others.
While Will explained their plan, Eleanor told Meran what was going to happen, informing him that once Laurice and the man threatening her had dropped to the ground, Berick was all his for the taking. Eleanor felt his savage joy as she withdrew her energy string. Berick was still yelling and spitting a lifetime of impotent fury at her. Eleanor ignored him, glancing at Merl. The older man was staring back, obviously wondering what she was going to do next.
OK, they’re ready, Will said. Eleanor watched as Will closed his eyes and Freddie’s eyes almost immediately glazed over. Through her link to Will, Eleanor felt his energy fade as he dropped in a boneless heap to the ground. Eleanor turned to look at Laurice and smiled apologetically. Sensing that something was coming, the woman closed her black eyes and Freddie let Will’s energy go. Laurice and the guard collapsed back, writhing on the floor and crying in pain, before lying still. Eleanor looked back to Berick, whose vociferation had come to a stuttering halt as he looked in horror at his sister’s body. For several seconds nobody moved, then with an ear-splitting shriek Meran rushed forward, kicking his front legs out at Berick and hitting him with crippling blows to the stomach and chest. Berick fell back, and a spray of blood expelled from his mouth as he did so. He lay choking, blood running from the corners of his mouth and his face full of terror. Meran stepped over him slowly, lifting his front hoof over the sobbing man’s head. Berick pulled his arms up in defence, but all it did was delay the inevitable as Meran stomped repeatedly down on the cowering man. Eleanor winced as she heard the bones in Berick’s arms snap, the man releasing a gurgling scream of agony that was cut short by Meran’s precisely delivered hoof to the side of his head. No longer able to watch, Eleanor turned her head away and closed her eyes, cringing at the wet splitting sounds.
Silence.
Eleanor opened her eyes. Meran had moved away from Berick’s lifeless, bloody body. The horse stood, head bowed and shaking violently. Freddie and Amelia checked that Laurice, Urerla and Nials were OK, while Will lay on the ground, eyes dazed but open.
Will, are you OK?
I’m just tired.
Eleanor pulled her energy string free as he struggled to sit. Turning back, Eleanor saw Merl. The man still seemed to be in shock and stood like a statue, staring at what was left of Berick. Movement in her peripheral vision caught Eleanor’s eye. The guard who had threatened Laurice was on his feet, moving swiftly towards her. A dagger glittered sharply in his hand. Surprised, Eleanor stared, momentarily
paralysed.
“Eleanor!”
The loud voice made her jump and then there were strong arms around her, pulling her away from the knife, a body moving to shield her, a grunt of pain, a heavy weight crushing her to the ground and pain strong enough to strip reality from her.
“Eleanor?”
Wincing, Eleanor opened her eyes and the fog cleared a little. She was lying on the ground and a hand stroked her head.
“What happened?” she asked, pushing her body to sit, Freddie helping her.
“Merl just saved your life,” Freddie said as she sat. Merl was lying on the ground next to her while Will assessed a deep gash across his ribs. Reaching forward, Eleanor placed a careful hand on Merl’s shoulder. He turned his eyes towards her. He had risked his life to save hers.
“Thank you,” Eleanor whispered, smiling gratefully. “Are you alright?”
“I will be fine once this butcher has finished poking and prodding,” Merl said, glaring at Will, who ignored him.
“Where’s the guard?” Eleanor asked. Freddie pointed to the stable wall where the guard lay sprawled in an unmoving heap, watched over by Amelia. Conlan stood a few feet away, watching her with an expression she did not understand. He was standing awkwardly, like he was uncomfortable in his own skin. She smiled at him and he smiled back, although it failed to reach his eyes. Eleanor frowned as his smile dropped. She watched as he walked stiffly past her to Meran and began gently stroking the trembling horse’s neck.
“What have you done to yourself?” he asked softly in Dwarfish. Meran lifted his head and locked his eyes on Conlan. A soft nose nuzzled into his face and then the broken animal dropped his head onto Conlan’s shoulder, taking a deep shuddering breath, eyes closing. Conlan wrapped an arm around Meran’s neck and with his other hand absently scratched behind his ears, just as he had done for Rand.
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