The Dread: The Fallen Kings Cycle: Book Two

by Gail Z. Martin

  Olek nodded, and Kiara could see bitter wisdom in his eyes. “It was ever so, m’lady. Whether it be a mob or an army, innocents die when men take up swords for vengeance. There’s no way to know until long after whether the price was just or steep.”

  Welcome to the burden of the crown, Kiara thought bitterly. It’s what father knew too well, and what Tris has learned. Every decision I make changes the lives of everyone in the kingdom. Sweet Chenne! How can anyone be wise enough for this?

  “I will take my leave,” Olek said, with a shallow bow. Kiara noted that he did not ask permission.

  “Thank you,” she said. “I am grateful. Isencroft is in your debt.”

  No one spoke until Olek departed and the spirits of the clan lords had vanished. Kiara let her head fall back against the smooth velvet of the chair. She felt Cerise’s hand on hers, and she knew that, aside from the gesture of concern, Cerise was using her healing magic to check Kiara’s health.

  “I think it wise to let the queen rest.”

  Allestyr and the others murmured their assent, and though Kiara welcomed the chance to sleep, she knew that tomorrow, her reign would begin in earnest.

  “Get some sleep, Kiara,” Allestyr urged. “Tice and I will make sure one of us keeps in touch with the guards in case we have trouble in the city. There’s nothing more you can do tonight.”

  Perhaps I’ve done enough already, Kiara thought darkly, but she nodded in assent and forced herself to open her eyes. “Tomorrow, we plan my trip to the battle lines. I may not be able to fight, but I want to be close enough to see what’s happening for myself. All the regent magic in the world won’t make a difference if I’m leagues away.”

  Allestyr nodded without protest, but Kiara could see the concern in his eyes. I don’t like it any better than he does, but I didn’t return to Isencroft to hide in the palace. This war won’t stay a standoff from much longer. We’re running out of time.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Kiara stood at the top of a rocky hilltop. Just days had passed since the coronation. The late-afternoon sun was brilliant, though the air was cold. She was far enough behind the battle lines to satisfy Allestyr’s demand that she stay safe but close enough to satisfy her own requirement that she be able to see what was going on. Royster had insisted on accompanying her, as had Balaren, Patov, and Jorven, in addition to the two dozen guards who made the journey with her from the palace to the war front, and Cerise, who refused to make the battle healers responsible for the health of a pregnant queen.

  Jae flew overhead, turning in broad circles over the battlefield. Kiara smiled, watching as the gyregon selected his targets on the ground below and swooped down at high speed, striking with razor-sharp talons before winging his way high into the sky.

  “Do you think the old warlords might be persuaded to lend us a hand here on the battlefield, if they’ve still got their taste for blood?” Captain Remir asked, and managed a bleak smile.

  Kiara sighed. “I think we’re on our own now. Their fight was really with the Durim, and they delivered what I asked of them.”

  “And the Divisionists?”

  Kiara turned away and sighed. “A victory… at a price. After seeing what the ghosts of the warlords did to the Durim, the mob turned on the Divisionists. I’d hoped they would bring the suspects to us, alive, to stand trial. Unfortunately, they were a little too inspired by what happened to the Durim. By morning we found seventy-five men—and a few women—hanged from trees in the common green or dangling from balconies. Some had Temnottan coins in their pockets, while with others, there’s just no way we’ll ever know for certain whether they really were Divisionists or whether it was just a convenient opportunity to be rid of a troublesome neighbor.”

  Remir nodded. His expression was grim, but he showed no surprise. “It’s much the same in battle. Few of the men who get killed care much about the reasons for the war. They were conscripted, or they sign on because they want three meals and a tent to sleep in and what the army offers is better than what they left behind. If a truce were called midbattle, most of them would be game to sit down for a pint of ale with the men who were just trying to kill them.” He shook his head. “I’ve been a soldier all my life, but I’m the first to admit war makes very little sense.”

  “And yet, here we are, with no other choices left to us,” Kiara murmured, looking down over the rise toward where two armies faced each other across a burned and blasted no-man’s zone.

  “Here we are.”

  Kiara was dressed for war, though the battle lines were far down the valley. Allestyr had kept several armorers up all night long adjusting her armor to give better protection to her abdomen without adding to the armor’s already substantial weight. The result was a hardened leather cuirass with an elongated and broadened front over a chain-mail garment that fell from shoulders to midthigh. She wore the cuirass at all times, but she left both the helmet and vambraces behind in her tent today. Though she had trained and fought in armor, Kiara realized that her recent duties as queen had left her out of practice.

  Jae had perked up at the sounds and smells of the battlefield. Prized by the Eastmark aristocracy for their ferocity in war, gyregons were virtually unseen outside of Eastmark’s boundaries. Jae had been a gift from Kiara’s uncle, King Kalcen of Eastmark, though Kalcen may have never imagined Jae would actually see battle. Kiara watched the gyregon attack, and her soldiers cheered as clusters of Temnottan soldiers ducked and dove or flailed their arms unsuccessfully to ward off Jae’s attacks.

  Kiara’s gaze followed the slope down to where the armies held their positions. The harbor was filled with Temnottan ships and the wreckage of both Temnottan and Croft ships. The beach was littered with the burned remnants of battlements and the unmistakable shapes of bodies, some of which still lay at the water’s edge. Temnotta had managed to overcome the Isencroft fleet and land enough troops to force back Isencroft’s army, so that the battle lines were now inland from the beach itself.

  Captain Remir and his guards had followed Kiara to the battlefield, charged with assuring her protection. Come nightfall, Antoin, Patov, and Jorven would join them. “It could be worse.” Captain Remir roused her from her thoughts. “We’ll hear from the commanders tonight.”

  “There was a lot going on when we received Cam’s report that the invaders had managed landfall. Go over it again for me, slowly. I want to know how they broke through.”

  Remir grimaced. “In a nutshell, Isencroft has too large a coastline for the army to hold every bit of it with troops. Alvior knows the coastline. The ships here laid siege to the main troop position, while a portion of the ships slipped farther down the coast, where they defeated the garrison and landed their men.”

  He drew a long breath. “Cam seemed to think that Alvior planned to launch the invasion from Brunnfen, but the fortifications that his brother, Renn, and Captain Lange put into place were enough to change Alvior’s plans. Good thing, too, since the terrain below Brunnfen would have made it easier to march on the Palace City than the rocky hills here.”

  “So we’ve forced them to fight in the place of our choosing. That’s something.”

  Captain Remir nodded. “It’s something important. I’ll take any advantage we can get.”

  Kiara managed a grim smile. “Me too.” She looked down into the wide plain where several divisions of the Isencroft army faced off against a sizeable enemy force. “What I don’t understand is how they managed to send so many troops so quickly.”

  Remir shook his head. “We’ve seen their ships going back and forth between the beach they took and the open water. My guess is that they had more ships beyond where we can see from shore, just waiting for an opportunity. They wanted us to think that the ships we saw were all they had. We were wrong.”

  The chill winter air whipped around them, whistling through the ruins of an old fortress where Kiara had made her headquarters. Little remained of the stone fortress except for a single crumbling tower and a ne
twork of broken walls and rubble.

  “Any word from Antoin?”

  Remir looked at the sky, and she knew he was mentally calculating the remaining candlemarks until sunset. “Not yet. It’s still too early for him to be about. As you’ve mentioned yourself, m’lady, ’tis not an easy thing to rally vayash moru to fight for a mortal cause.”

  Kiara frowned. “The Durim who were doing the Temnottan’s bidding were sacrificing vayash moru as well as mortals. To my mind, that makes it a common cause.”

  Remir chuckled. “I hope for our sakes that you’ve learned to think like a vayash moru. We could use the help.” He paused and looked around them, as if to make sure that he would not be overheard.

  “The old man who came with you from the palace, is he a mage?”

  Kiara chuckled. “Don’t let him hear you ask that or his head will swell! Royster is the Head Keeper at the Library of Westmarch. He’s not a mage himself, but he keeps the largest library about magic in the Winter Kingdoms, and even the Sisterhood treats him with great respect. He was a great help when Tris fought to take back the crown in Margolan. He came with me from Margolan because he’s also a chronicler, and he can’t stand to let a good story get by him.”

  Remir’s face fell. “Oh. I was hoping for a mage. A really powerful mage, someone who could send the Temnottans packing without more bloodshed.”

  “Don’t we have battle mages?” Kiara asked, concerned.

  “Oh yes, as many as we could find. But the battles have gone hard on them, and we didn’t have that many to start with. The Temnottans tried to soften us up with magic before they brought the fighting in earnest. If we could find more mages, we’d welcome them.”

  Kiara grimaced. “Unfortunately, the Sisterhood doesn’t want its mages involved in ‘worldly’ conflicts, so the mages who have come to us had to go rogue in order to do it. I think we’ll see others join us. I’m hoping that when they have to choose between loyalty to Isencroft and loyalty to the Sisterhood, their homeland will win.”

  Remir gave her a half-smile, but the look in his eyes told her that he wouldn’t bet money on their chances. “I hope you’re right.”

  Later, Kiara listened in silence as Cam, Wilym, and Vinian recounted the main turning points of the battle. Morane, one of the senior mages, and Antoin listened to the report in silence. When the report was finished, Wilym met Kiara’s gaze.

  “I know we failed in keeping the enemy from landing ashore, but it’s been a brutal fight to hold them where they are. I’d pit Isencroft’s army against any in the Winter Kingdoms, but we’ve never fought a war of magic before, and it’s taken a heavy toll on our soldiers.”

  Kiara looked to Morane. The mage was a man in his middle years. He had dark hair that was gray at the temples, and his clothing was unremarkable, with little to reveal him as a mage except for the vials and pouches on his belt. “What kind of defense can our mages make? Are they powerful enough for some offensive magic, or are we lucky to hold our wardings?”

  Morane regarded Kiara for a moment before he spoke. “I’m reminded that my queen has been in the presence of some of the most powerful mages in the Winter Kingdoms,” he said. “If you mean, do we have any mage equal in power to Martris Drayke, the answer is no. We have no one that powerful, nor any summoners among us. On the other hand,” he added, meeting Kiara’s eyes, “if Temnotta does have a dark summoner of its own, he—or she—is not in any of those ships or among the troops that landed. That kind of power is impossible to hide. I would expect such a valuable weapon would be deployed against its counterpart—in Margolan.”

  Kiara caught her breath. It made perfect sense that the Temnottans would wield their strongest mage against the greatest magical threat. Any sense of relief she might have felt knowing that the Temnottan summoner was not poised to strike in Isencroft was negated by her heightened fear for Tris’s safety.

  “We’ve used our magic to harry the Temnottans every way we can,” Morane went on. “Our water mages have roiled the seas, but it’s a delicate thing trying to sink their ships and not ours. The Temnottans have turned fire against us, and both our fire and land mages have worked hard to contain the blasts. The air mages have done their best to push the invading ships farther from shore. Remember, m’lady, that the enemy has their mages countering everything we do.”

  Morane paused. “Our scryers and rune readers have done their best to advise the generals. It was because of them that we had advance warning about Alvior’s flanking maneuver. We think Alvior’s mages were using glamour to hide what they were doing, and it worked, for a while. When our mages broke through it, we were able to see what was happening and move the troops to meet them.”

  Kiara nodded. “Well done.” She turned to Antoin. “I’m hoping you have news to report.”

  Antoin gave a predatory smile. “News I have—good news. I’ve found thirty vayash moru who will join our ranks, and nearly as many vyrkin. All of them asked that I pass along their deep thanks to your majesty for stopping the Durim. And in my travels, I also made some inquiries as to mages.” His gaze darted to Morane, and then back to Kiara.

  “The vayash moru told me that there was a cluster of mages who were making their way toward the front lines. All I did was welcome them to the party and make sure they got to the right place.”

  Antoin dropped his gaze as he finished, giving Kiara to guess that there was more to the story. “What caused the mages to leave the Sisterhood?”

  Antoin licked his lips, a mortal gesture that showed his uneasiness. “It wasn’t completely voluntary, their leaving. Seems that all of them have been hearing a hum that they said nearly drove them mad. The other mages couldn’t hear it, and decided that those who could must be unstable. These mages were driven out.” He raised his gaze again. “I’ve seen my share of madmen, and none of these mages seemed mad to me.”

  Perhaps they hear the same hum that Cheira Talwyn heard, the hum that sent Cwynn into a frenzy. Not mad, just attuned to different magic. “I believe you,” Kiara said to Antoin. “I’ve heard of this before, in Margolan.”

  Antoin looked relieved. “Then they’re welcome?”

  “Very welcome,” Morane affirmed. He looked to Antoin. “If you’ll take me to them after this meeting, I’ll assign them to battle stations.”

  Cam leaned forward. “I don’t know whether to be glad you’re here, or worried sick. I think the next battle will be the big one. Temnotta’s been softening us up, testing our mages, trying to deplete our forces. But they’re at a basic disadvantage: Their main point of supply is a long way from here. Even if there are more ships out to sea, they can’t supply their army forever.” Cam met Kiara’s eyes. “They’re going to have to break through our lines and make a big push, and do it soon.”

  “Any chance they’ll try another flanking maneuver somewhere down the coast?”

  Wilym shook his head. “We’ve got troops at all the accessible beaches, and catapults fortifying the cliffs. There’s no other good strategic access except through Brunnfen, and that’s bottled up. I think the battle will be here, and soon.”

  Cam lingered behind when the rest of the meeting’s participants filed from the tent. He embraced Kiara in a bear hug. “Beggin’ the queen’s pardon, but it’s damn good to see you, Kiara,” he said.

  Kiara managed a tired grin. “Good to see you, too, though you look a bit worse for the wear.” Her gaze traveled from a slash on Cam’s cheek to the cuts, scrapes, and welts on his knuckles and hands.

  Cam shrugged. “I don’t mind not looking too pretty as long as I come back alive.”

  “How’s the leg?”

  Another shrug. “It’s still attached, and the limp hasn’t kept me off the field, so that’s something. Pains a little when it’s damp, but so did my grandfather’s gout. Guess that’s how it is once something’s been busted up. But I’ll live.” He grinned. “ ’Sides, anything that isn’t fatal will make Rhosyn greet me with plenty of sympathy, if you know what I mean,” he
said with a broad wink.

  Kiara could not help but chuckle. “So marriage agrees with you?”

  Cam gave a sly smile. “That it does. I miss Rhosyn something fierce out here, though I’m glad she’s safe, and I’ll sleep better now that I know you’ve rid the city of those damned Divisionists. Rhosyn and Renn are conspiring to open a new ale house near Brunnfen as soon as the fighting is over. Rhosyn’s got her daddy to agree to lend us one of his ale masters. And I met a brandy maker who’s going to come brew up liquor for us instead of that gut-rot poitin the locals drink. Goddess knows, we need something to put coin in the coffers after Alvior spent it all, damn him to the Abyss!”

  Kiara sobered. “No sign that Alvior’s come ashore to fight with the troops?”

  Cam spat and ground his heel into the spittle. “Alvior’s a bully and a coward. He’ll let other men fight and die as long as possible before he puts his own precious neck at risk. Don’t worry: I have my men watching for him. When the time comes, I want to be the one who sends him to the Crone.”

  “He’s all yours,” Kiara promised. “But be careful. I don’t want to explain any serious injuries to Carina after she just finished patching you up.”

  Cam chuckled. “Don’t worry. I learned my lesson about blowing myself up. This time, I mean to do the real damage to Alvior.”

  Kiara watched Cam walk back toward the troops. His limp was more noticeable than Kiara had expected from Cam’s casual dismissal, but it did not slow him as he crossed the camp. She turned back toward her tent, only to spot Royster waiting in the shadows. “I hope I’m not too late,” Royster began, “but I think I’ve come up with something you might want to hear.” Kiara took another look and realized that Royster had a large book and several scrolls tucked under his arm.

  Wearily, Kiara waved Royster inside as the guards at the tent door stood away from the flap. Kiara crossed to where a small tea kettle simmered on the brazier and began to pour a cup for herself. She glanced over her shoulder at Royster. “Tea?”