The dwarf winked. “We mustn’t anger the elves.”
Silas led them to the woods, and the woods stepped toward them. A hundred elven sentinels stepped forward in full armor with long shields. The sight of it, the perfection in their drilling and synchronous movement, made rangers and dwarves alike halt. Klay scanned the trees for archers even though he knew doing so was futile. His eyes would never see them unless they wanted to be seen.
Lord Nemuel in his gray mail, with his ashen skin and white hair, strode forward. He did not play games either—as he approached, Klay felt the chill of sorcery.
Nemuel said, “You were warned to stay away from Paltiel.”
“Samos agrees with you. We will take Marah away from the Norsil.”
“And all he sends is you and a few bears?”
“I know her well.”
Nemuel grimaced. “Have you had no word from Shinar? The Norsil took ships to the eastern shores. There are tens of thousands of them on the coast now. The Roshan tide went out with the sea, and the Norsil tide has come in.”
Klay didn’t know what to say. They’d had a few messages from Larz Kedar, but none of them mentioned ships. He didn’t realize the Norsil had ships. Then the nature of the alliance struck him—they had hired the Burning Isles. So the Sea Kings wanted Shinar as well.
Nemuel watched him think. “You underestimate them.”
Klay said, “They moved faster than we thought.”
“This isn’t even all of them. There are other clans in the wastelands gathering together. We watch them as well. There are enough Norsil to attack Shinar and Ironwall at the same time.”
“They’ve never been that organized.”
“Times have changed.”
Silas asked Nemuel, “You were at the Battle of Shinar? And you watched Marah fight Azmon?”
“I bore witness.”
“Is she as strong as the prophets of old?”
“She will be stronger than Alivar if she grows into her powers.”
“And there was no sign of demon spawn?”
“None.” Nemuel hesitated. “No sign on her; however, Azmon is another matter. He has grown stronger, and there is no other way to explain his newfound powers. The Emperor of Rosh is demon spawn.”
Silas said, “We have much to discuss and little time.”
“You will go around our domain.”
“I think it would be better if you escorted us through your sacred ground. We will do no harm to the ancient oaks.” Silas withstood the cold indifference of the elven lord and said, “Come now, Lord Nemuel, not all of the Avani have betrayed you, and there is still hope for the girl. These rangers are one of the few allies we have left on the surface.”
Nemuel turned to Klay. “You will try to steal Marah from them?”
“Of course he will,” Silas said. “As will I when I meet with her.”
“The rangers won’t last a day on the Shinari plains.”
Klay agreed. He had the men and bears to fight a Norsil war band, but tens of thousands of them would be impossible to sneak around. And the two factions had murdered each other on sight for hundreds of years. He considered returning to Ironwall and reporting what he had learned to his king.
Silas said, “We must speak to this girl.”
Nemuel said, “You won’t get within shouting distance of Shinar.”
“Then we bring Marah to Paltiel.”
IV
Tyrus carried Marah back to Shinar. Her thanes stole as much food as they could without starting a fight. The raid happened quickly, and no one died. Little blood was drawn. Breonna had placed guards on her supplies, and Marah’s thanes pushed past them to take barrels of oats. By the time the clansmen knew what was happening, it was almost over. A few thanes moved to stop them, but when they recognized the men who were carrying away the barrels, they backed off.
Their small group moved faster than the invasion force. Tyrus figured they were a couple days ahead of them, which meant little if she sent her sons chasing after them. All the way back, he kept checking over his shoulder for signs of pursuit.
When they saw Shinar again, Marah said, “I hate this place.”
Tyrus replied, “We need walls.”
“I know, but it’s filled with ghosts.”
“You need to stay in King’s Rest. Until the walls are repaired, it is the safest place.”
“You said we could go to Paltiel.”
“And we will, but if the elves don’t let us in, King’s Rest is the best place to be. After we make sure it is ours and settle the rest, we can go.”
“But you said we would go after we had food.”
“That was before Breonna invaded.”
“I want to go to Paltiel.”
Tyrus listened to the child complain, and he worried about provoking her. He couldn’t tell if the questions were an act or not. She was naive and immature but could shift to clever and violent with little warning. He found himself tiptoeing around her even when she wasn’t using sorcery.
“I will take you,” he said. “But we have to deal with this first.”
“You promise?”
“As your guardian, I’ll take you to the elves. But if they won’t let you in the woods, we need a safe place to return to. Do you understand?”
Marah said, “I will keep you safe.”
“We are horribly outnumbered.”
“Not for long. You’ll see.”
Olroth greeted them at the gates with his son Rood and his brother Dargo. They still looked haggard, and Tyrus worried about infighting among the clans. He saw no wounds, though, just exhausted warriors. The smoke had cleared a little, but the city still smoldered.
“We had a few supplies from yesterday,” Olroth said, “and news of the boats. Breonna brought everyone?”
Tyrus nodded.
Olroth asked, “And you are still alive?”
“Stay of execution.”
“Killing Barros the day before she shows up…” Olroth squinted at him. “I’ve never known a man better at making enemies than you. It’s amazing to watch.”
“Were you able to secure King’s Rest?”
“The red robes want it too. They were moving in when we claimed it.”
“Have they given you any trouble?”
“Not yet, but the fat one glares at me like one of my wives.”
“I’ll speak with Larz.”
Tyrus put Marah down and gestured for Olroth to follow him away from whatever ears might be listening. Lost in thought, Tyrus watched the ground, trying to figure out how to reconcile Marah and Breonna. He thought he might be able to convince the girl to swear oaths to Breonna, but he had his doubts. The Pathros family had a history of fighting wars instead of bending knee. And the Ghost Warrior could not bow before anyone without losing face.
The factions vying for Shinar closed in on Tyrus. He considered running away with Marah. Their enemies would follow, he knew, but he liked the idea of putting the snake pit behind them.
Tyrus told Olroth, “This isn’t going to end well.”
“Breonna won’t be happy until she has all of Shinar.”
“We bought a little time. How many thanes has Marah won over?”
“Dozens each day.”
“And Breonna brought thousands.” Tyrus sighed. “But they are normal men with fewer marks.”
“Still dangerous in large numbers.”
Tyrus knew a pack of wolves could kill a bear, but Breonna’s sons worried him more. Her sons were experienced veterans with scores of marks, who also commanded hosts of thanes with similar skills. They were the elite among Breonna’s force.
Olroth asked, “Did you see my wives or children?”
“She brought her families and is withholding ours.”
“I don’t like the idea of my children traveling with her sons.”
“Neither do I.”
“We need to secure them,” Olroth said, “before we move against her.”
“There’s a long list of things we need to do.”
“If anything might turn the thanes against us…”
“I know. She won this round. But we have the fortress and food. She moved faster than I thought. I had hoped to have a few more weeks to plan.”
“You aren’t the first husband she’s outmaneuvered.”
“Might be easier to kill Breonna and be done with it.”
“Her sons will fight,” Olroth said. “You’ll have to kill them all.”
“I’d prefer to get it over with.”
“The Ghost Warrior is wise. She grows her clan by weakening Breonna, and it gives us time to find our children. We will take what we can for as long as we can and fight for the rest. Once we have the hostages, Breonna is dead.”
“She won’t let us steal from her. And she can’t beat Marah.”
“So she’ll send daggers in the night.”
A few days later, from the battlements of Shinar, Tyrus and Olroth watched a train of Norsil march toward the city. They had no horses or wheels. Everything that had come off the boats was carried on shoulders, backs, and sledges. Breonna marched near the front. Hundreds of thanes arrived before her, but many more Islanders in green cloaks and armor followed her. The Sea Kings looked like children compared to the Norsil. Tyrus noted dozens of sorcerers and hundreds of soldiers.
Tyrus asked Olroth, “Is this normal, to hire Sea Kings?”
“They hire our sellswords, but we never hire them. They were not welcome in our lands. Nisroch would have killed them.”
“Why?”
“He forbade mortals from using runes.”
“Do your people know how to kill sorcerers?”
“Any way we can, and at range. Spears and arrows.”
Tyrus said, “Sounds about right.”
“We can’t let them in Shinar.”
“We must. Marah offered them protection.”
“But behind walls, they are impossible to kill. When they claim the villas, we won’t be able to take them back.”
“It wasn’t my decision. We must trust Marah.”
They watched as a long line of thousands of Norsil snaked around the little hills of the plains. They clustered in family groups. A few large men, brothers, cousins, uncles, or nephews, escorted teams of women and children. The invasion looked less like an army and more like an enormous family reunion.
After having lived and fought with them, Tyrus knew the first sign of danger would trigger a strong defense. The women would string bows and circle the children. The children old enough to use slings would form a second circle around the elderly and infants. The craftsmen would draw steel and form an outer ring while the thanes—the professional warriors—engaged the threat.
Tyrus had seen them form the circles with a speed that would make a general envious. The drilled precision was a necessity. Usually, they defended themselves from the monsters in the wastelands.
Tyrus said, “They won’t like being in Shinar, will they?”
Olroth shook his head. “Weak little men hide behind stone.”
“Do you want to stay in Shinar?”
“I follow the Ghost Warrior.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Olroth shrugged. “If I knew my children were safe, it would be easier.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“They have to be with them. Breonna wouldn’t leave something valuable out of sight for long. She’ll keep them close.”
Settling the Norsil took several days. People ate, and supply lines were established, but Shinar was so ravaged that everything to eat and drink had to be carried into the city. Tyrus heard reports from Olroth and Marah that the Sea Kings had landed ships along the coast. Hundreds of green sails had begun visiting abandoned ports.
The Ghost Clan grew in number and rituals. The thanes began painting themselves white. They made a paste from ash that they spread across their faces and exposed flesh, but they never covered the red marks on their foreheads. The paint dried and flaked, leaving a weird dusting wherever the clansmen went. Tyrus began to look like an outsider with his black runes and clean face.
Marah held court outside the main doors of King’s Rest. The fortress looked down on a large courtyard of cobblestones, and dozens of stairs led to the great oak doors of the keep. Marah stood at the top of the steps with her guards while the courtyard filled with people who wished to see the Ghost Warrior.
Tyrus stayed at her shoulder and watched her bless families. Men presented their women and children to her, and when the Norsil learned she could heal ailments, the crowd grew too big for the courtyard and clogged the streets. Marah saw hundreds of people a day, and the line never ended.
Word reached Tyrus that Breonna wished to see him. He told Marah and had Olroth take his place while he went to Breonna’s villa. In any other city, her villa would have been considered a castle. The home had a ring wall and towers, but nestled within Shinar’s walls, the fortifications looked tiny.
Breonna waited for him at the gate. “This is your doing or Olroth’s. It’s like the Highlands—the best position was already claimed by the two of you.”
“Marah told us what she wanted.”
“I am sure.”
“Olroth doesn’t want you in Shinar at all.”
“Now that sounds true. What do you want, Warlord?”
“I want our strength behind the walls, where it is easier to protect. If the elves or Gadarans attack right now, they will catch too many of us out in the open. And we need to stockpile more water and food.”
“That’s not what you want.”
“It is. I am a simple man.”
Breonna smirked. “You pretend to be, but you want things most men could never have. These little castles—the villas—they are not what I want.”
“I would like to see my wife and daughter.”
“In time.”
“We agreed that I would be allowed to visit them.”
Breonna sneered. “We agreed to many things, Husband.”
Breonna stood with her hands on her hips. She watched him, but her attention kept drifting toward the streets and the other buildings. The stone walls had her on edge—Tyrus had seen the same behavior in many of the Norsil. Out on the plains, one could see an enemy coming from miles away. In Shinar, there were corners and walls to hide behind.
“The men want their families,” Tyrus said. “Marah will give the Sea Kings some lands in Shinar, and she will allow you to keep the largest villa within the city walls.”
“I want King’s Rest.”
“That’s not going to happen. She offers lands and titles instead.”
“But not the lands I want. Another Kassiri making empty promises that she can revoke any time she chooses. Is this what passes for honor among your people?”
Tyrus said, “This is how we build alliances.”
“What is the girl’s title? Is she Warlord? Chieftain? Empress?”
“Other than Ghost Warrior, she hasn’t chosen a title yet.”
Breonna shook her head in disgust. “And what title does she offer me?”
“Any you want. Chieftain or queen.”
“But she is more than a queen?”
Tyrus nodded. He didn’t need to say what would happen if Breonna refused. They both knew it would end with bloodshed. Once the Norsil were settled and Shinar became livable again, the titles would mean more. The fighting would start then, but Tyrus hoped to come to terms before that happened.
Tyrus said, “Prophets are above royalty.”
“Queen after a warlord and a prophet.” Breonna spat. “The city was mine, and now I’m third?”
“She asks for the families and increased rations.”
Breonna became
silent, and Tyrus could see the gears clicking in her mind. They both knew she had few options. Playing along would buy her more time to plot her attack. Marah had asked him to relay the request, but things would be so much simpler if they skipped to the part he was good at. Slitting her throat would take less than a heartbeat.
He had to secure the hostages. But he’d learned a long time before to just kill the people who needed killing. Putting off the inevitable made things worse.
Breonna asked, “What choice do I have?”
“You can leave or fight her.”
Breonna dismissed that with a grunt. She headed toward the gates of her villa, where a couple of thanes kept watch. Dozens of clansmen were gutting the place, tossing most of the furnishings into the courtyard.
“Come,” Breonna said. “I have my own peace offering.”
Tyrus’s curiosity overcame his hesitation. He half expected men with knives to pounce when he entered the gate, but no one cared. He followed Breonna past the walls and inside the villa. She led him to a larger room in the back, which appeared to have been a dining hall at one point.
Breonna snapped her fingers twice. One of her thanes brought a woman from a back room. A woman draped in green silk entered the room. When she uncovered her head to reveal raven black hair and piercing green eyes, Tyrus gasped and backpedaled.
Ishma stood before him.
A few heartbeats passed before his shock wore off, and he saw through the illusion. The woman was younger, almost a girl, but the resemblance was uncanny.
Tyrus asked, “What is this?”
“A gift, my husband.” Breonna grinned in triumph. “I only had stories to go on, but your queen was famous among the Islanders. Of all the gifts I’ve bought, this was the most expensive, and you would not believe how difficult she was to find. I had Orfeo track her down. The hair is dyed, and the green eyes were very rare. They say her grandmother was from Sornum.”
“Take her away.”
“You don’t want her? Only a few chieftains could afford her, and fewer Key Keepers will welcome her into their house. She has good hips. She’ll give you five or six sons.”
Tyrus growled. “This was a mistake.”
“I bought her originally as a wedding gift.” Breonna gestured for a thane to escort her from the room. “Not many wives would allow their husband to marry such a woman, but I was never afraid of a pretty face. You can imagine how upset I was when I found you had already replaced me.”
Dance of Battle: A Dark Fantasy (Shedim Rebellion Book 4) Page 14
