A range of sensations assaulted Catrin's senses, and her head swam with it. But she was able to sort out bits and pieces from the onslaught. Thorakis was winded, his energy nearly spent. What he had in potency, he lacked in stamina, and that was something Catrin could use to her advantage. Seethe, on the other hand, was lean and strong and showed no signs of fatigue. His jaws alone would be enough to put an end to her and Kyrien, and his equally deadly claws moved like caged lightning.
Kyrien gave an effort born of pure love for Catrin. She could feel him straining beneath her, and she knew that he wouldn't have given such an effort to save himself alone, especially since he blamed himself for the death of his queen and all of his kind. Catrin's heart threatened to break, but life had hardened her and lent her strength. She would not break; she would not relent or be defeated. Her cause was righteous, and she cast aside the restraint that had always underlain her attacks.
Turning to get a good angle on the rapidly approaching Seethe, Kyrien kept their path straight and level. Seethe earned his name as he approached, and it was difficult not to lose courage in the face of such malevolence. Black death stalked her, and she waited until the jaws were nearly upon her, and this time she attacked only one eye, but she attacked it with the full force of her will, no restraint, no holding back. It felt as if chunks of her chest were being pulled out and cast into wind before vaporizing in the path of such massive flow.
The air vibrated and shimmered between Catrin and Seethe. Even when Thorakis leveled another, weaker attack at her, Catrin maintained her assault on the dragon's eye. Smoke poured around it, and the beast roared in pain, even as Catrin cried out from the pain of Thorakis's hit. When flames erupted around Seethe's eye, he turned and dived down low to dunk his head in the waters below. Kyrien took advantage of the respite and gained altitude. Towering plumes of vapor soared above them, and Kyrien aimed for the biggest ones.
Below them, she heard Seethe roar in anger, and she dreaded their next meeting, provided her and Kyrien's wounds didn't kill them first. When the white mists closed around her, though, she knew they had a chance.
Chapter 16
The forces that hold us together can be used to tear us apart.
--Gemino, sorcerer and artist
* * *
"Let me out of here!" Master Edling demanded from behind an iron-shod door.
"I'm afraid I can't do that yet," Baker Hollis said, and Master Edling thought he sounded smug and self-congratulatory.
"If you don't get me out of here, I'll call the liens on your bakery and put you out of business."
Baker Hollis actually chuckled. "I don't really have to worry about that now. Let someone else bake the bread. My daughter is queen."
"You can't really think the people will accept her as their queen, do you? Come on, Hollis, get real. The girl's a freak, and people are afraid of her."
"Even more afraid of her than they were of you."
The way he said were made the urge to throttle Baker Hollis almost irresistible. If only the man would step a little closer to the bars that allowed the only light into the tiny cell in which Master Edling was being held. The place was dirty and smelled of mud and urine. The mud, he knew was left over from the floods. This would not have been so bad if one of those precious water channels ran through his cell, but they did not. Knowing that the keep was equipped with such amenities only fueled his jealous rage.
A daft child would take it all away from him.
He'd always disliked children, and perhaps this was why. Even if he knew that Trinda was of a woman's age, she still looked like a child, so he assumed she still thought like a child.
"What's it going to take to get me out of here?"
"Nothing beyond your ability to provide," Baker Hollis said, and he stepped a little closer to the bars so he could speak at little more than a whisper.
Just a little closer, and Edling would be able the reach out and choke the traitorous fool. For the moment, Edling let the man speak, letting him lower his guard even further. The rational part of him listened since this was probably the only way he would get out of that cell. That part of him knew he couldn't kill Baker Hollis now. It would have wait until later. He could be patient to a certain extent.
"First, you have to apologize to my daughter in writing."
Master Edling bit back his retort and waited to see what would come next.
"You can do this as part of your relinquishment of power to Queen Trinda. You'll cede to me all lands south of the wall that bears your name and all the way to the sea. You'll deed the Masterhouse, the cold caves, the mills, the mines, all of it. All of this you'll sign with your official seal, and then you'll deliver it to the council at the Masterhouse. You'll assist with a peaceful transfer of power, and then you will be free to select a parcel of land north of the wall on which you can retire. Security forces will be assigned to you to ensure your safety, of course. You've not managed to make many friends along the way."
Master Edling wanted to shout, wanted to scream while wringing the life out of Baker Hollis and his ill-begotten get. To the fires with all of them, he thought. No one could make him do such things; no one could force his hand.
He knew the thoughts were false even as they flashed through his mind. Already part of him had accepted his fate. At least it would get him out of this forsaken place, even if it was only to pick out a larger cell in which to live. In the end, he had to accept the truth in Baker Hollis's words; he'd not made many friends. Removed from power, he'd be lucky to live a month. Trinda's mercy might be the only thing keeping him alive. He would admit it to no one, and he would spend the rest of his days plotting his return to power if that was what it took, but for that moment, he relented and admitted defeat, however humiliating it was to be beaten by a mere girl child. When Baker Hollis moved closer still, Master Edling nearly lost his self-control, his fingers itching for the baker's flesh.
* * *
From out of the morning fog rose Wolfhold. Atop an aged wagon rode a tall man and what looked like two people huddled under a thick blanket. A swayback mare pulled the cart forward at a slow but inexorable pace. It seemed to Sinjin as if they would never get to Wolfhold and he'd never get to see his mother or his homeland again. The world had gone even crazier than it had previously been, and now nothing was certain. Even his relationship with Jharmin Kyte was a mystery. This man was married to Sinjin's mother's cousin--not exactly ties of blood. Not many in the Greatland were likely to find any sympathy for Sinjin, especially if they knew who he was. On the other hand, having him as a prisoner could perhaps give Jharmin power over Sinjin's mother.
More likely, Jharmin's concern for him was genuine, and he did actually have Sinjin's and his mother's best interests at heart. Sinjin felt better when he considered the latter, despite knowing how much Lady Lissa disliked his mother. What if she was also at Wolfhold? Lord Kyte had said that she had left, but he didn't say she wouldn't return. The thought made his guts hurt, but Kendra shifted next to him, and he said nothing when she used his shoulder as a pillow. Initially she'd ridden under the blanket to keep from drawing anyone's notice, but during the night, it had been pleasant to share the warmth with her.
Breathing shallow breaths so as not to wake her, Sinjin watched through the small hole he maintained. He might have to stay under the cursed blanket until they reached Wolfhold, but that did not mean he had to be suffocated or deprived of a little light. Hand had seemed to want to argue but, after a while, had stopped trying to persuade Sinjin to keep the blanket all the way down. If nothing else, he needed to breathe.
Guards lined the roadway that led to a stout drawbridge. A deep channel filled with rushing water ran beneath. Beyond, the keep rose like a towering spire that used a natural formation of stone as its foundation. A thriving community surrounded the inner walls, and rural lands extended from the hold like spokes from the hub of a giant wheel.
As they crossed the bridge, Sinjin couldn't help but wonder if he'd ev
er leave this place. The wagon wheels found a protruding lip of rock that sent the wagon rocking back and forth. Kendra was thrust closer to him, and he put his arm around her to help support her. The motions of the wagon roused her from her sleep, and she came around slowly. When she realized Sinjin's arm was around her, though, she cast him an accusing glance. After peeking out from under the blanket, Kendra saw that they were nearly there and were now surrounded by Lord Kyte's men.
Lifting the blanket and exposing Sinjin to the light, Kendra shrugged the blanket the rest of the way off.
"Not until we're inside," Hand said, trying to lift the blanket back over her head but failing against its weight. "We don't need everyone to know that you're here."
"If there're just Kyte's men around here, why would anyone else find out?" Kendra said, refusing to rejoin Sinjin under the blanket. In truth, Sinjin was considering shrugging the heavy burden off as well.
"Just as I worked within Ohmahold and yet served Lord Kyte, so do some of those here serve another master. I know not which, but I know they're here nonetheless. Now please get back under the blanket for just a short while longer."
Kendra did as she was asked, but it was clear that she did so grudgingly, and she couldn't seem to resist showing Hand her blade one more time before joining Sinjin.
"Keep your hands where I can see 'em," she said in response to Sinjin's glance.
Watching through the gap Sinjin maintained, they saw hurried preparations being made by people with haggard and worried looks on their faces. Sinjin could feel the dark and tense mood of the place, and the worry in his gut grew more intense. He tried to hide the trembling of his legs from Kendra, but she was so close to him that it was impossible. She looked at him once, an indecipherable expression on her face, but she said nothing.
"Where are you from?" Sinjin finally asked to break the silence. "I mean, before you came to the Godfist?"
"My family was from the Westland," Kendra said after a while, which surprised Sinjin. He hadn't really expected an answer. The truth was that he never really knew what to expect from Kendra. "I never got to see my homeland. By the time I was born, my family had lost everything, our lands were poisoned, and no one and nothing could live there."
Sinjin could hear the pain in her voice as she spoke. He knew that somehow Kendra's life felt incomplete to her because she'd never been to the Westland, and now most of that place was lost to mankind forever, fouled and poisoned by the detonation of a Statue of Terhilian.
"The woman I call my mother and I moved around a lot, and we only stayed as long as the work lasted. I never really knew how long that would be."
Sinjin considered saying something, but this was the most Kendra had ever told him about herself, and he decided to hold his tongue.
"It wasn't so bad," she said with a shrug, as if trying to cast off the mood. "I learned to fight and defend myself. That's more than I can say for most folks, so I suppose I made out all right."
She didn't say any more, and Sinjin concentrated on getting a good look at Wolfhold. A defensible place, he thought, and beautiful. Everywhere he looked there were defensive structures that were also majestic works of art. Perhaps the defensive nature of these features was invisible to the casual eye, but Sinjin's training was not forgotten, and he knew what was coming. He'd been educated more than most on the nature of war and sieges. He'd known all along that Wolfhold would be as safe as its ability to repel armies . . . and dragons. The last bit changed everything, of course, as had proven true for Ohmahold. For all their defensive advantage against traditional armies, a handful of dragons could take this place. An army would not even need to attack the city; they could just surround it and wait for the dragons to drive out those within the keep. Certainly there were places within the spire of stone where the dragons could not themselves go, but their ability to carry troops and place them within the walls was devastating.
Even if Jharmin were able to conceal him at the heart of this mighty keep, he wouldn't be safe, and that haunted Sinjin.
When they approached the keep proper, Sinjin's stomach clenched. Once again the feeling of entering a place he might never leave made him want to scream, to claw his way out from under the blanket and make a break for freedom. Freedom, though, was nowhere to be found. All paths pointed toward his death, and again Sinjin trembled.
"We'll find a way out of this," Kendra said as the shadow of a mighty stone archway enveloped them.
The noises of the outside were almost immediately silenced. Hooves on stone made the only sound, and they echoed sharply. Sinjin wasn't certain he believed Kendra, but he said nothing.
A crowd of people worked in what bordered on chaos within the stable yard where they now found themselves, and there was a sense of deadly urgency in the air. These people knew the storm was coming, and Sinjin got the distinct impression that no one believed what they did would be enough. That was until a man in fine but simple garb walked into the stable yard. Men stepped aside to let him pass. A young man struggled to maintain control of the colt he held. The horse looked to be about two years old and, by the look in his eyes, was about to panic.
The confident man stopped and turned to the young man holding the colt. With quiet calm, he took the lead line out of the young man's hands. The colt continued to prance, sparks flying from his shoes as they struck stone. Other horses were riled by his panic, and the situation threatened to escalate, but the man Sinjin guessed was the stable master reached up and grabbed the colt by the halter and laid a calming hand on the horse's neck. Still the colt danced in a circle. The man just moved with him, sure and steadfast. Slowly the panic receded from the colt's eyes, and he soon stood trembling and blowing but overall unruffled. The man handed the lead line back to the younger man with a soft word then headed toward Hand.
"I didn't think it was possible to cover the distance so quickly," he said.
Hand bowed to him. "I didn't either, my lord. You urged me to make great haste, and I did everything within my power to comply."
"You've done well, Hand. You're a good and loyal man."
"Thank you, my lord. I never meant to deceive you, and I never will again. You've my word. I'm yours, my lord."
"Stand, my friend, I understand that you were trying to serve me and my wife in the best way you could. Now I think the time has come for my nephew to reveal himself."
"The moment he does is the moment the sands begin to fall," Hand said.
"We've made what preparations we can," Lord Kyte said. "My wife is preparing Ravenhold, but we both know it will fall. I wanted the fool woman to stay here, but she's as stubborn as a stone mule. Now the best I can do is to draw the armies here instead. And what better way to do that than to let them know Sinjin is here? Then we'll find out if the legendary defenses of Wolfhold are as impenetrable as the old stories say. The decision is made. Sinjin, you may come out from under that dreadful blanket now. I'm sorry that you've had to endure it this long."
Looking over at Kendra, who had remained concealed along with him, Sinjin felt a long moment's hesitation. Once he came out from under this blanket, if he were to believe what he'd been told, the feral dragons and Thorakis would know exactly where he was. He had no reason not to believe what he'd been told, and no matter how much he detested being stuck under the blanket, he was afraid. It was an admission that hurt his pride, but that didn't change the truth of it.
Kendra gave him a nod then poked him in the ribs.
Together they moved out from under the blanket. It felt good to have fresh air on his face, but the glory of it was short lived. The reality of what was going on around him was instantly sobering. These were the preparations for war, and Sinjin couldn't help but wonder how many of these people would find their deaths before the winter. That was the problem with understanding sieges; Sinjin knew what horrors to expect.
"I'm Jharmin Olif Kyte, and you're my wife's cousin's son. A tenuous relation, I know, but I nonetheless greet you as family and welcome you to
my home. I wish I could greet you under more welcoming circumstances, but it seems the world has come unglued, and we get to have seats close to the action."
Sinjin wasn't certain what to say, and he fumbled for words. "Th—thank you, uh, my lord."
"Please, my boy, call me Uncle Jharmin. I insist! We're family, after all. And we don't get to have family here to visit all that often." His words were spoken more loudly than needed to carry to Sinjin, Hand, and Kendra. "And I'm remiss. I've not made the acquaintance of the lady."
"This is Kendra Ironfist," Sinjin said. "She's my friend." The words same out without much thought.
Kendra made a rude sound in her throat, but Sinjin also caught something else in the look she gave him. He did his best to conceal his smile.
"I welcome you both to Wolfhold. Please, let us retire within. You can refresh yourselves after your journey, and then we can have some time to talk."
Kendra said nothing but she matched Sinjin's stride. The interior architecture of the hold was majestic yet barren of inspiration. The arched entranceways were unadorned, and the vaulted ceilings bore no decorations. The walls, however, were covered in works of art that Sinjin thought somewhat overcompensated for the otherwise bland surroundings. The quality of the works displayed was far beyond anything that Sinjin had seen before, and the sheer number of them kept Sinjin's attention rapt. Jharmin walked ahead of them, and a young man approached at a very fast walk from deeper within the hold. Jharmin stopped to listen to the page's whispered message, and Kendra leaned closer to Sinjin.
"Don't trust anyone," she said. "People are rarely what they seem at first glance, and there are people within these halls who would do you ill."
The Balance of Power (Godsland Series: Books Four, Five, and Six) Page 44
