“Might be nothing but a secret hiding place for the old lord’s treasures,” Piran said, looking on skeptically from his spot against the wall.
“Was there anything special about the door?” Kestel asked, her eyes alight with interest. “Anything that might have been magical?”
Geir nodded. “There were runes carved on the lintel of the door, and some markings that looked like the ones on the obsidian disks. If the door leads to an area underground, there’s a chance it survived both attacks.”
“The hills around these parts are riddled with caves,” Edward said. “It’s not uncommon for the old manors to incorporate the caves as storage chambers beneath the house, or even as escape routes for the manors that were once fortresses.”
Blaine looked thoughtful. “If there was another entrance through the keep, the building’s collapse would have blocked it off long ago. No one except the talishte will have seen it from the air.” He looked to Geir. “Any evidence that Reese has already been there?”
Geir shrugged. “No way to tell, really. If Reese has been there, he didn’t leave any trace. And there’s no reason why he would have seen it from the air. I just went up on a whim, not really expecting to find anything. There are no nearby cliffs, so no one is going to see the pattern by accident. From the ground, it’s not noticeable.”
“How about Pollard’s men? Can we get there without a fight?” Piran asked.
Geir nodded. “Pollard seems to have thrown a wide net without anticipating that we’ll go anywhere in particular. He had the largest force on the road to Castle Reach, like the spy said, so my bet is he expects us to go back to the city, maybe even to what’s left of Quillarth Castle.” He paused. “He’s got groups of about a dozen men on all the main roads leading away from Glenreith. But there are too many side roads and farm lanes for him to watch them all.”
“You think he expects us to travel the king’s highway?” Blaine asked with a chuckle.
Kestel looked up. “Pollard’s thinking like a lord, not a colonist. A group on horseback with guards would be easy to spot. A covered farm wagon, a couple of tinkers, and a few vagrants all heading the same direction on farm lanes wouldn’t be worth anyone’s attention.”
“Why do I have the feeling Piran and I get to be the vagrants?” Dawe asked, not really expecting an answer.
“I don’t mind being a tinker,” Verran spoke up without looking over his shoulder. “You’d be amazed how much a good tinker can steal by the time he leaves town, if he’s careful.”
“Would you two be serious?” Kestel chided. Her eyes were alight with the challenge. “We can hide several guards in the wagon. That way, if we find anything at Mirdalur, we can bring it back with us without attracting notice.”
“Mirdalur is a three-days’ ride from here,” Judith warned. “Won’t it be suspicious if such an odd group of strangers make camp together?”
Geir considered for a moment, then shook his head. “Not necessarily. With the brigands and the magic storms, I’ve seen some motley groups on the road. There’s safety in numbers, and conditions nowadays don’t favor the lone traveler. Few are willing to ride alone unless they’re a skilled fighter or talishte, and even my kind are wary with raiders about.”
“Knowing that even the undead don’t feel safe on the road makes me feel so much better about this,” Piran grumbled.
“Any other hazards on the way?” Blaine asked Geir, ignoring Piran.
“Interestingly enough, Pollard’s men are something of a deterrent for the usual highwaymen,” Geir said. “None of the roads are in good shape, and the farm trails even more so, but I mapped a route without missing bridges or downed trees. It’s not without risk, but I think we stand a good chance of getting there and back with Pollard none the wiser.”
Blaine looked to Dawe and Edward. “How much longer do you think it would take to pull together what we need: provisions, wagon, disguises, and a half-dozen guards for backup?”
“I’ve been helping your captain at arms repair the weapons in the armory,” Dawe replied. “I’ve enjoyed being back in a forge again. Point is, both the guards who come with us and those who stay behind will be well armed. I believe the captain could have his men ready on a few candlemarks’ notice.”
Edward nodded. “Wagons we have aplenty, and we can spare the horses you need, both for your ‘tinkers’ and for your wagon team. As for the vagabonds, we’ve taken in some stray horses that wandered loose for a while after the Great Fire. They’ve regained their strength, but they look a little ragged. They’ll do just fine.”
Kestel and Judith were conferring in quiet tones. Kestel looked up with a broad grin. “Leave the disguises to Lady Judith and me. Give us a day, and we’ll have what we need. We’ll look the part—I promise.”
“Give me an old nag or a mule and a small cart and a few odds and ends from the rubbish pile and I can put a tinker’s buggy together,” Verran said. “Won’t take but a couple of candlemarks.”
Geir cleared his throat. “There is one more thing to consider.” His expression had grown even more serious than before, and Blaine thought he saw worry in Geir’s eyes. “Penhallow has contacted me through the kruvgaldur.”
“Do you know why he hasn’t joined us?” Blaine asked.
“Did he get Connor to safety?” Kestel added.
Geir shrugged. “The connection was strained. At best, I receive images and impressions. This time, it was fragmentary. That could be because of distance or because of the presence of magic storms near either of us. I saw Connor’s face, and a fortified castle. Penhallow’s frustration was high. I believe he and Connor are either prisoners or perhaps under siege.” He frowned. “I didn’t get much more, but I did receive a clear sense of warning coupled with images of Mirdalur.”
“Meaning what?” Blaine asked cautiously.
Geir grimaced. “That’s where it’s open to interpretation. Penhallow was alerting me to danger, but whether it was a caution to avoid Mirdalur or to tread carefully, I don’t know.”
“That’s just great,” Piran said, adding a potent curse. “We could be in danger if we go, or in more danger if we don’t go—with no way to tell exactly what we’re being warned about.”
“The kruvgaldur is not precise at a distance,” Geir replied. “I debated whether or not to share it with you and decided that I owed you full disclosure, even if the information isn’t complete.”
Blaine began to pace. “The longer we wait here, the more likely it is that either Pollard or Reese will return with more troops to bottle us up. Once that happens, we won’t get to Mirdalur without a fight. Without more information from Penhallow, we have no way of knowing whether he’s saying ‘stop’ or ‘wait.’ But I can’t shake the feeling that standing still is a mistake.”
“If we go to Mirdalur and you can unlock the magic, we gain a weapon against Reese and Pollard,” Kestel said. “Once the magic works, if we can find Vigus Quintrel, he might even be able to help us go up against them and win.”
“We’ll need an army, not just a few mages for that,” Piran muttered. “I don’t like any of it. I don’t really trust Penhallow, so getting a muddy message from him doesn’t carry a lot of weight with me. I don’t much like magic, but things were better when we had some, so anything with a chance of getting the magic back seems like a good idea to me. Sitting still waiting to be attacked, not so much.”
Dawe made a face. “Much as it pains me to agree with Piran on anything,” he said with a glance toward Piran, “I think he’s right.” Piran answered Dawe with an obscene gesture, and Dawe grinned.
“I rather like the idea of seeing if we can steal the magic back,” Verran said. He had continued to peruse the library shelves as the others talked, and Blaine hadn’t been sure Verran was even paying attention. He looked over at him to see Verran easily linking and undoing a complex puzzle of metal circles. “Hate to say it, but I agree with Piran too.”
Blaine sighed. “I’m not discounting Geir�
��s warning. It’s good to know Penhallow and Connor made it out of the crypt, but if they haven’t joined us by now, it stands to reason they’d been detained against their will. Whatever we do, we’re on our own.”
“We’ll take every precaution,” Blaine said, looking at Geir, who nodded. “We’ll assume that we’re being watched, and we’ll take as many guards as Glenreith can spare. But staying here until we’re attacked gains us nothing.” He looked from face to face and saw them waiting for his decision.
“The longer we hesitate, the more likely it is that Pollard or Reese will get ahead of us. We leave for Mirdalur day after tomorrow.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
THEY RODE THROUGH THE NIGHT, ALERT FOR spies. Geir ranged ahead of them while Piran lagged behind, watching for any signs of ambush. Next to him on the seat of the wagon, Dawe had his altered crossbow at the ready. In their time at Glenreith, he had managed to alter half a dozen bows, so that the guards who rode with them or hid in the wagons also carried the enhanced weapons. Beneath their cloaks, they were all well armed. Piran and Blaine preferred their swords to crossbows, as did Geir. Kestel wore a bandolier of throwing knives over her plain tunic and trews, and had a short sword in a scabbard at her hip. Clad like tinkers and peddlers, they drew little attention from those few travelers they passed on the moonlit roads.
“I’m still not sure this is a good idea,” Kestel murmured.
Blaine shot her a weak grin. “Neither am I. Did you come up with an alternative we hadn’t thought of?”
Kestel chewed her lip and shook her head. “No.”
“Me neither.”
They rode for a while in silence, and Blaine found his thoughts wandering. It was almost Twelfth Month, and even in Donderath, the days were growing short and the night stretched long. Edgeland’s long dark and white nights had given him a completely different perspective on the season’s change.
“A copper for your thoughts,” Kestel said after a long pause.
Blaine shrugged and smiled. “Just thinking about how we celebrated the coming and going of the long dark and white nights in Edgeland. The solstice is coming up. Despite father’s many faults, he did keep Vessa Night on the solstice eve and the Feast of Torven on the day itself, and he kept them with style.” He sighed. “Just wondering if I could persuade Edward and Judith to make an effort to keep the holidays.”
Kestel chuckled. “I used to love the bonfires at court on Vessa Night, and the red banners and music to the goddess. King Merrill also had his faults, but he knew how to hold a feast that was the talk of the castle for months afterward. And the food! I’ll remember the roast goose with honeyed parsnips for the rest of my life.”
Blaine’s smile was sad. “Given the circumstances, I suspect anything we could manage at Glenreith would be a pale reflection of the feasts you’re used to.”
Kestel’s smile faded and her expression became pensive. “There were parts of those times that are pleasant to remember, but much of it wasn’t. I don’t miss those days. I enjoyed the feasts we kept at the homestead in Edgeland much more than those at court, largely because at the homestead, there was none of the posturing and politics.”
“Things here are such a mess, it may feel like homesteading to put Glenreith back on its feet,” Blaine admitted. “We’ve been so focused on going to Mirdalur that I haven’t had much time to think about afterward, assuming there is an afterward,” he said with a dour look.
“Let’s hope so,” Kestel said. She shivered and drew her cloak more tightly around herself.
“I’m just hoping that once we get the magic settled, you and the others will consider staying on at Glenreith. There’s plenty of room, more than we had at the homestead. That is, if you don’t have somewhere else you’d rather be.”
Kestel smiled and was quiet for a few breaths. “One thing at a time, huh? Let’s see how things work out.” There was a sadness in her voice Blaine couldn’t place, and she looked away when he tried to meet her gaze.
“Personally, I’m game to stay.” Verran had ridden up behind them. He was still linking and unlinking the metal puzzle, which Blaine knew from personal experience was much more complex than Verran made it look. “I daresay I could assist Edward in procurement.”
Blaine chuckled. “You mean looting the countryside?”
Verran gave a lopsided grin. “Doesn’t sound as good when you put it that way, but yes. There’s a small fortune in livestock wandering free since the Great Fire, and I’m betting that there are still valuables buried in the rubble of the buildings that have been abandoned. I’d see it as my duty to forage on your behalf and bring back the spoils to share with the household.”
They were all joking to relieve the tension, but Blaine had to admit that the idea of continuing the homestead at Glenreith held great appeal. Postwar Donderath was an unforgiving, forbidding place. Keeping people he trusted close to him seemed like more than just friendship; it could be the basis for survival, as it had been in Edgeland. “I’d like that,” he said.
“Stay sharp; there’s a ruin up ahead.” Geir seemed to appear out of nowhere. “I can’t sense anyone inside, but some talishte can cloak themselves from others. Keep your eyes open.”
Around the next bend, Blaine saw the ruin. The foundation stones were very old, and even in disrepair, the structure was impressive. The remains of a large tower still stretched high into the sky, despite the fact that its top lay in rubble in a wide swath of tumbled stones around the base. The thick stone wall was breached in several places, and behind the wall, Blaine glimpsed a roofless façade. He could see straight through the empty windows to the dark sky beyond, reminding him of the eye sockets of a skull.
They rode on high alert, weapons at the ready. In the distance, Blaine heard the hoot of an owl and a faraway howl of a wolf, but in the ruins themselves, nothing stirred. When they were well past the ruined tower, he and Kestel drew up alongside Geir. “Is it true what they said about the tower, that it was a citadel of the Knights of Esthrane?”
“Is that what’s said?” Geir replied. “Do you know who the Knights were?”
Blaine frowned. “I’ve only heard legends. As a child, I was told the tower was destroyed because the Knights betrayed King Merrill’s grandfather. There was talk that they dealt in the dark arts.”
Geir chuckled. “Oh, they’re dark enough, that’s certain. They were talishte and mages whose job was to hunt down rogues of both kinds and bring them to the king’s justice. As the king’s agents, they had immunity from prosecution and nearly limitless power. At their best, they did the kingdom a great service by eliminating true monsters. At their worst…” Geir paused and gave an eloquent shrug. “At their worst, they were the monsters.”
“What happened to them?” Kestel asked. “That tower looked as if it fell long before the Great Fire.”
Geir nodded, but Blaine thought he looked uncomfortable with the subject. “King Merrill’s father began to fear that the Knights of Esthrane might someday turn against him. He was wise to fear what he had created, though to my knowledge the Knights’ loyalty was never suspect. He rescinded their letter of immunity and had their leaders watched. There were some incidents that led him to decide the Knights were too dangerous to keep around. He disbanded the order and imprisoned those he could find until he could assure their loyalty.”
“And how, pray, could he do that?” Kestel’s voice was skeptical.
Geir gave a cold half smile. “The king gave the captured Knights over to the royal mages for questioning. But the royal mages had always feared and envied the power of the Knights. Few were surprised when the mages declared the Knights to be traitors. All but a handful of the leaders were destroyed on orders of the king.”
Blaine let out a low whistle. “So, from the Knights’ point of view, the king used them until they became inconvenient, and then betrayed them.”
Geir nodded, tight-lipped. “Exactly.”
“What became of the ones who escaped?” Bla
ine asked.
Geir looked away. “Merrill’s father didn’t find all of the Knights, and a few of their leaders slipped the net as well. Some among the talishte recognized the service that the Knights did in bringing down rogues and felt that the king had been faithless. It was rumored that the Knights survived, with the aid of their fellow talishte, in the high country, or in the southern desert. I haven’t heard anything about them in a very long time, so I suspect the survivors eventually died off and the talishte members moved on.” He shrugged. “Too bad. They might have been helpful in our current task.”
They rode on, taking shelter just before dawn in the ruins of an abandoned mill. Though Blaine and the others took turns at watch, the day passed without incident. By the time Geir rose for the night, Piran and Dawe had caught a brace of rabbits and captured a wandering goat, which they cooked over a concealed fire, careful to save the blood for Geir.
“I have to admit, you’ve brought us on some roads I’ve never even seen before,” Blaine said as they ate the roasted meat along with hard bread from Glenreith. Almost from the time they left the manor, they had traveled along rutted side roads and trails that were long disused and barely passable.
Geir shrugged. “A necessary inconvenience. Pollard could put men on the main roads and some of the byways, but he couldn’t possibly scout every farm path.” He gave a cold smile. “Some of these trails have not been well traveled for several lifetimes. I have the benefit of a long memory.”
Ice Forged (The Ascendant Kingdoms Saga) Page 50
