Yerrin: A Book of Underrealm (The Nightblade Epic 6)

by Garrett Robinson

  Annis and Gem frowned but did not speak. And privately, Loren wrestled with her own doubts. Did she truly think Kal was capable of outwitting Damaris? She would rather have relied on Annis than the grand chancellor. The girl knew her mother better than anyone else. Loren had a suspicion—even a fear—that she was only submitting to Kal’s will because she no longer wanted to be the one in charge. Her choices had led to many deaths already. For the moment, at least, she was content to let someone else make those decisions.

  In the end, mayhap, she would find out at last whether or not all the killing could have been avoided—whether she was indeed the foolish girl Kal believed her to be, or if their foe was truly as devious as she feared.

  Kal spent the rest of that night and all the next day in hurried counsel. Jo and Senlin gave him much advice on the layout of the palace and the probable distribution of guard patrols. Kal even summoned Kerri at one point. She went, despite some reservations, and came back a short while later. Kal had wanted to know details about the servants’ quarters and passages, which Senlin and Jo had been unfamiliar with.

  “That may be a good thing,” said Annis. “I feared Kal might try a frontal assault. If he wants to know about the servants’ passages, he may be trying for stealth—for as long as he can, at least.”

  “Mayhap,” said Kerri, looking troubled. “Yet this all seems to be going so fast. He means to attack tonight. He has had scarcely more than a day to plan.”

  “He hopes to surprise Wojin—and Damaris,” said Loren. “The more time we take to plan, the more time they have to guess our aim.”

  In the afternoon, Loren slipped away from the group to visit Shiun. The scout had been put up in a room of her own, and two healers tended to her wound—one a Mystic, the other not. Shiun was awake when Loren came, and she tried to push up on her elbows at once.

  “Still yourself,” said Loren, even as one of the healers leaped forwards to hold Shiun down. “I only wanted to see how you were doing.”

  “There is a hole in my gut,” said Shiun. She tried to smirk but only managed a grimace. “Other than that, I could not be better.” Her voice was tight with pain, and every other word came through gritted teeth.

  Loren sat by her side, putting a hand over Shiun’s. She glanced up at the healers. “Might we have a moment?”

  They looked at each other apprehensively. The Mystic healer, a stout woman with dark skin and many bags of medicine on her belt, wagged a finger. “She is not to move for any reason.”

  “Of course,” said Loren.

  They nodded and withdrew. Shiun regarded Loren carefully for a moment. A thin veil of sweat covered her face, and Loren guessed that her wound pained her much more than she wished to show.

  “Some rumors have reached me,” said Shiun. “About words the grand chancellor had with you.”

  “Let us not speak of that,” said Loren. “It is nothing you should worry yourself over. And I will not apologize for the events that led to your injury, for I know you would not want to hear it.”

  “Certainly not,” said Shiun with a snort. “But then why have you come here?”

  “I said I wanted to see if you were well,” said Loren. Then she blew a long sigh out through her nose. “And I wanted to tell you that Chet left. We all rode many leagues together. I thought you ought to know.”

  Shiun’s brows rose almost imperceptibly. “I am sorry to hear that. Though I suppose he was bound by no oath of duty. None of your friends are soldiers, not truly.”

  “No, they are not,” said Loren. “I myself am not a soldier.”

  “Yet you are also not faithless.”

  Loren frowned and shook her head. “Chet was not faithless. He did more than almost anyone else I have met in my travels. In time—if our road had been somewhat less dark—I think he would have become a great man, and a great servant of the High King. A man somewhat like Jordel.”

  “You cannot be serious,” said Shiun. “Do you think Jordel never walked any dark roads in all his journeys? That is what made him a great man—he never turned his course from the right one, no matter the pain it might bring him.”

  “Yet some pains are too deep,” said Loren. “You know what happened at Yewamba.”

  “Actually, I do not know,” said Shiun. “You never told us. But I guessed. From the way things changed between you.”

  Loren gave her a hard look. “If you guessed right, then you know better than to call Chet faithless.”

  Shiun met her stare for a moment, but at last she turned her eyes away. “You are right. Forgive me. I suppose, in my own way, I am sad to see the lad go. And … may I speak frankly for a moment?”

  “You may,” said Loren, smirking. “Have you need to chastise me? Have I spoken too honestly with you, my underling, again?”

  “Not that,” said Shiun. “Sometimes honesty is necessary, as it is now. I worry for what Chet’s departure might mean for your own peace of mind. He was good for you. I know he needed to look after himself, but now I worry about who will look after you.”

  “Why, you will, of course,” said Loren. “The moment you are healed and back up on your feet, I expect you to return to duty.”

  Shiun gave a loud snort, then winced in pain. “I am hardly interested in providing the sort of comfort that Chet did, if you take my meaning.”

  Loren smiled and put her hand over Shiun’s. “I am only joking. Do not worry about me, Shiun. Worry only about getting well.”

  A knock came at the door, and Loren turned just as it opened. Gem poked his head in the door. “It is time. Kal has ordered the attack to begin,” he said. His gaze slid past her to Shiun. “How are you?”

  “You have both asked me that, now,” growled Shiun. “I have a hole in my stomach, master urchin. I am hardly well, though I will not die.”

  Gem grinned. “I am glad to hear it.”

  Loren gave Shiun’s hand a final squeeze and then followed Gem from the room. In the main chamber in the basement, she found her party of Mystics ready to go. At their head, to her surprise, was Jormund. Loren drew up short before him, looking around, but Kal was nowhere to be seen.

  “Are you to come with us for the attack?” said Loren.

  “I am to lead it,” said Jormund, giving her a grim nod. “I wish I had been with you in Yewamba. But I can make up for it now—at least in part.”

  Loren gave him a smile, but she knew it looked weak. What if he had been there in Yewamba? He might have died, as Weath had.

  She heard footsteps coming down the stairs and turned to see Kal enter the room. Close behind him were Kerri and Annis. Kal stopped short and scowled at Loren.

  “I have put Jormund in charge,” he said. “He is not unfamiliar with this sort of mission. You are to obey his every command, just as you would my own. Understood?”

  Loren nodded. “I will. You have my word.”

  Kal snorted. “The last time I thought I had your word, I—” He bit the words off. “But never mind that. I would rather not be at odds with you, girl. Do your job now, and I will consider that a good first step.”

  The hard wall Loren had built up around herself softened, at least somewhat. She gave him another nod, and this time it was more genuine. “Then I will endeavor not to let you down.”

  It was time to leave. Annis sprang forwards and gave Loren a hug, and then Gem. It was the first time in a long time that Loren had seen them share an open embrace without any awkwardness.

  “Take care of yourself, you great fool,” said Annis quietly.

  “And you,” said Gem.

  Annis released him and motioned to Kerri, who started in surprise. “Come here,” said Annis. “It is for good luck, I suppose.”

  Over Annis’ head, Kerri looked at Loren with a little smile as the girl embraced her. Loren returned it. The muscles in Kal’s jaw kept spasming, as though he longed to order an end to all this silliness, but he restrained himself.

  Then, at last, it was time to go. They followed Jormund and
his squadron of Mystics up the stairs leading to the street. A fine mist had come with the evening. Loren took that as a good portent: a dark and misty night for dark deeds. She followed the red cloaks into the greyness.

  LOREN SIDLED UP BESIDE JORMUND as they walked. “What is your first order, O my captain?” She tried to put an indifference in her tone that she did not feel.

  Jormund chuckled. “I am no captain—though who knows? If tonight goes well, the grand chancellor might promote me. But my first instruction is that, once we are inside the palace, you should avoid the fighting at all cost.”

  “That is an order I can follow easily,” said Loren. “How do you mean to sneak into the palace? We climbed the wall, last time.”

  “And that is still the best way in, but they will surely have redoubled the guard,” said Jormund. “Therefore we mean to make a feint at the front gate. When they are distracted there, the larger part of our group will enter the same way you did last time. Once we are inside, Keridwen will lead us through the servants’ passages to the king’s quarters.”

  Loren frowned. “The main gate will be guarded. The mists will help, but surely they will still see us when we try to make the climb. We will be exposed.”

  “But we will not be climbing for very long,” said Jormund, smiling. “Yond here is a mindmage.”

  He pointed to a man by his side. Yond did not look quite like Loren thought a wizard should—he was too short and wide for that. But he smiled at her and lifted a hand, and his eyes began to glow. A dagger flipped up out of Loren’s belt to spin in midair.

  “I shall get you on top of that wall quickly, girl.” He had a voice like two stones grinding together. “I hope you can do your job after that.”

  Loren smiled at him before plucking her dagger out of the air and sheathing it once more.

  Soon they reached the palace. A wide main road ran in front of the walls, and they stood in the shadows on the other side. Mayhap ten paces separated them from their target—ten paces they would have to cross in the open air. Guards stood in the windows of the gatehouse and the towers, but there were also two guards on the street in front of the gate. The mists would help cover their approach, but they would be seen before they could sneak in. A thrill coursed through Loren. It was the same feeling she had had just before they infiltrated and attacked Yewamba. She only hoped that the results would be somewhat better this time.

  “Time to begin,” said Jormund.

  They attacked.

  Ten of the Mystics stormed forwards, drawing their swords, with Loren and Gem close behind. They sounded no battle cries, and so the guards did not notice them until they were almost to the wall. Then a cry went up. Four guards from above loosed a volley of arrows, but Yond’s eyes flashed. The arrows scattered in midair, clattering to the cobblestones. Then the redcloaks reached the soldiers on the street. With the benefit of surprise, the Mystics slew their foes quickly. Each fell pierced by many swords. Jormund turned to Loren and clasped his hands.

  “Boot,” he grunted.

  Loren placed her foot in his hands and leaped when he heaved. That sent her almost halfway up the wall—and then she felt an unseen force seize her under the arms.

  Yond’s mindmagic, she realized.

  The spell threw her the rest of the way, so that she did not even need to grip the top of the wall, but flew neatly over it to land on the other side of the ramparts.

  One guard was on the wall just outside the tower, and she barely had time to look surprised before Loren attacked. The woman bore only a bow, and she could do nothing to block Loren’s punch. Three times Loren struck, and the woman collapsed to the ground.

  Jormund landed just behind her. At once he slammed his shoulder into the door of the gatehouse. It flew open, leading into the upper floor.

  Five guards waited inside. One raised a sword, but Loren threw a dagger into his arm and then grappled with another. Jormund’s sword flashed, felling two of them.

  Loren’s opponent tried to overpower her, but she threw a foot behind the woman’s and pushed her back. The guard’s head struck the wall, and she fell senseless to the floor. But her companion attacked, forcing Loren back with his sword.

  Jormund came to help after the first few wild swipes. His sword battered the other man’s away, knocking it from his grip. Jormund plunged the blade through the man’s chest, and he dropped. The gatehouse was clear.

  They ran to the wheels at either end. Jormund’s meaty fists wrapped around the spokes, and he had the rear gate raised in only a few heartbeats. Loren was slower, but he ran over to help her finish it. Soon the gates were up, and they heard shouting as the guards inside the courtyard realized the palace was exposed. By that time, four more Mystics had made the climb, and they filed into the gatehouse.

  “Hold this place as long as you can,” said Jormund. “But once you are sure it will fall, get out alive.” The warriors moved to obey. Two took up positions at the doors, while two others stood at arrow slits at the rear. They would be able to fire into the courtyard as the Danfon soldiers came to attack.

  “Our job here is done,” said Jormund. “Now comes the greater task.”

  He and Loren took the stairs down and into the courtyard, immediately ducking through the gate and back out to the street. With a quick gesture, he motioned the rest of the Mystics after him. There were fifteen of them now, in addition to Loren and her friends, and they made their way around to the same place where Loren had infiltrated the palace last time.

  With the help of the mindmage, they made the climb far more quickly than they had before. No guards challenged them on the walls, for all had been summoned to fight at the front gate. They made their quick run across the side wall, and Loren led them in their climb up to the balcony that would let them in. But this time the door was locked.

  “They have learned that much, at least,” said Loren.

  “Pah,” said Jormund, grinning. “What good is a lock?”

  He rammed his massive shoulder into the door twice, and the jamb splintered as it flew open. They stormed into the palace—but now they turned the opposite direction from last time, for they were making for the servant passages.

  “Here,” said Kerri. The girl’s eyes were wide with fright, and her hands shook as she pointed out the right door, but her voice did not quiver. Loren was impressed. Kerri had said she was fearful when Wojin attacked the palace, but she seemed to be handling this battle fairly well.

  Jormund threw open the door Kerri had pointed to. Inside was a servant, but before he could cry out, Jormund’s meaty fist struck him senseless. Kerri directed them through the passageway, turning left and right as they made their way towards the kings’ chambers.

  The plan of attack was brilliant, Loren realized, for it would be almost impossible to find them here. They were in the walls of the palace itself, and all attention would be diverted to the front gate. If Wojin feared any attack, he would expect it to come from the palace’s front hall. The servant’s passages would put them only a few rooms away from the king’s chambers, and while they would no doubt be guarded, they would have bypassed the greater strength of Wojin’s forces. Indeed, even the servants’ chambers were surprisingly empty. She supposed most of them must have gone to bed already, and the rest were likely hiding after hearing of the battle in the courtyard.

  At last, Kerri held up a hand. They all came to a stop in front of a simple wooden door, and Kerri turned to them.

  “This leads to the entrance to the keep,” she said. “There is a small chamber, and then a door. Then stairs leading up into the keep itself, where the king’s chambers will be found.”

  “Good,” said Jormund. “And the Yerrins?”

  “Once we climb the stairs, there is a passage leading away to the Yerrin apartments,” said Kerri.

  “We will break off from the rest of you once we make the climb,” said Loren.

  “Very well,” said Jormund. “If you have not returned by the time our deed is done, we w
ill seek you out in case you need our aid.”

  “I would appreciate that,” said Loren, thinking of Gregor. She hoped that he would have been pulled away from Damaris’ side by the fighting, but that seemed too fortunate to be true.

  Jormund nodded and threw open the door. They rushed out of the hallway into a small chamber with doors on either side. Two guards stood before them, but they could barely draw their swords before the Mystics fell upon them.

  In a moment the guards were slain, and Jormund opened the door to the stairwell. The stairs turned back and forth twice before emerging onto a landing before the king’s chamber. Loren saw the door leading to the side hallway, and Damaris’ chambers.

  They all paused for half a moment, and Jormund turned to look at her.

  “Good fortune, Nightblade,” he said. “I will see you again soon.”

  “Good fortune,” said Loren. She ran for the hallway door, Kerri and Gem on her heels, and threw it open.

  An arrow flew at her from the hallway beyond. Loren dodged too late by reflex, but the arrow missed her anyway. She caught a glimpse of soldiers in Dorsean livery, and then she fell to the floor on her back. Desperately she kicked the door shut again.

  “Jormund!” she cried. “Wait!”

  She was too late. She heard the door to the king’s chamber burst open, and the Mystics gave great cries as they stormed in.

  “After them,” said Loren, pulling Kerri and Gem with her. They reached the door to the king’s chamber not a moment too soon. Behind them, the hallway door burst open, and Dorsean soldiers charged in, screaming. The opposite door flew open as well, and more soldiers came running from the other side. Loren leaped into the king’s chambers, Gem and Kerri close behind her, and threw the doors shut.

  The chambers were empty. There was a wide bed against the opposite wall, with great windows on either side of it, and many chairs and couches for the king to receive guests. But Wojin was not here, nor were any of his household guards. Jormund stood spinning in the center of the room, his sword drawn but impotent.