by J D Abbas
Elena’s jaw hung slack. “Where did you find these things?”
“I had B-Barildor and his m-men make them for you. It didn’t t-take them long at all.”
“They…made these for me. How—?” She strangled on the words.
“I saw h-how distressed you were earlier with having to depend on m-me in the bathing room. I-I can’t relieve all of your b-burdens, but this is a small one I-I could do something about. I know they are r-rough, and the men really w-wanted to put more time into polishing them, but I w-wanted you to see them and be able to u-use them immediately.”
“These were your ideas?” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Why would you go to so much trouble?”
Braiden’s brows arched in surprise. “B-because I know how frustrated I w-would be in your place. I-I wanted to help.” His expression changed to concern. “D-did I offend you?”
Elena fought back tears, ashamed of herself for having goaded him. “No, Braiden,” she whispered. “I’m not offended. I’m stunned.” She shook her head sharply. “I’ve never been given a gift before. I don’t know what to say.”
“N-never?”
“Never.”
Braiden’s smile returned, and his jade eyes shone. “W-well, now you have.” He gave a quick nod.
“Thank you,” she murmured. It felt as if he’d reached into her chest and twisted her heart, the ache unbearable. She tugged Sasha closer.
Chapter 23
Celdorn was the last one to the stairs, herding his men in front of him. Most had ascended the steps before the walls crumbled, and he hoped they’d made it out of the doors by the time the upper level collapsed onto the lower. The wood-framed walls held mostly intact, but the building had sunk into the ground, leaving those still inside with no way out and in the dark as debris extinguished their lanterns.
Elbrion and Celdorn found themselves at the top of stairs that led only to rafters; the corridor they were seeking now ten feet below. Elbrion turned and scrambled over the end, hanging from the top step before dropping the last few feet to solid ground. Celdorn followed.
Using Elbrion’s light, also dimmed by dust and debris, they caught up with a handful of others in the sunken hallway. Climbing over pieces of wood that jutted up through the floor, they stumbled their way toward what had been the exit at the back of the building.
The rafters overhead gave a slow, mournful groan followed by a loud snap. Celdorn felt a swoosh of air and jumped back. Something scraped across his forehead just before anguished cries filled the corridor. In the dark once again, Celdorn groped around blindly. He discovered a crossbeam had collapsed, crushing men beneath it. He swiped at the blood that trickled past his eye, where he’d been nicked by the falling wood, and scanned the dark, an intense fear gripping his stomach. “Elbrion? Are you hurt?”
A light flashed on the ground a few yards to his right. “I am uninjured.” Celdorn hurried to Elbrion’s side and helped him to his feet, the knot in his belly easing. Elbrion’s illumination grew as he rose and dusted himself off.
Celdorn followed the edges of the beam that had fallen, using the curses and wails of the injured men to guide him to the right spot. “Help me get this off them,” he called to Elbrion. The beam was a solid four by four and heavy. Together they grunted and strained to lift it. Sweat slid into Celdorn’s eyes as his muscles strained. He struggled for a better grip, but still they couldn’t budge it.
By then, others had turned back. They dug through the rubble for another piece of wood to use for leverage. Finally, someone succeeded in raising the beam up enough to pull two of the men free, one of them badly injured. The third remained pinned. As Celdorn ran his hands along the length of the wood, he found its splintered end embedded in the man’s chest. He wasn’t moving or breathing.
“Who is this?” Celdorn yelled.
“I think it’s Mordan, sir,” a voice answered.
“Mordan?” Celdorn felt for his face. “Mordan, answer me.” He brushed woodchips and dirt from the young man’s cheeks and cradled his head. There was no response.
Elbrion knelt next to Celdorn and put his hand on Mordan’s forehead, illuminating the young man’s lifeless face with his dulled glow. “He is gone, Celdorn.” Elbrion squeezed his shoulder. “We must move on.”
“We can’t leave him like this.” Mordan was only eighteen years old. This was his first mission with the Guardians.
“We need to find a way out of here or more will be joining him. We can come back for him.”
“Fire by the stairs!” someone yelled.
Celdorn turned and saw a faint glow coming up from the rubble under the stairway. Red tinged clouds billowed into the hall.
Elbrion grabbed his arm. “We need to move now.”
Celdorn kissed Mordan’s forehead and uttered a quick blessing. He swiped at the tears rolling down his face and rose. “Head to the back end of the hall!”
“I need some help,” Tamon called. “Zokar can’t walk.” The injured man moaned as Tamon put his arm under his shoulder. Celdorn hurried to assist.
Singing softly, Elbrion called forth more light as he led the others through what was left of the hallway in the direction of the rear exit, which was no more.
“We’ll have to climb up and see if we can break through the roof,” Celdorn said.
Just then, they heard a thump, thump on the roof above them. It repeated until a whoosh of cool air swept down. A lantern was lowered on a rope.
“Lord Celdorn?” someone yelled.
“I’m here.” He moved toward the light.
Celdorn and Elbrion lifted one man after another through the ceiling, starting with Zokar. Celdorn then helped to raise Elbrion to the waiting hands of his men. When they threw down a rope and were ready to pull Celdorn out, he refused.
“I need to go back for Mordan. Do you have an ax up there?”
“The fire is growing. You need to come out now,” Elbrion called.
“I can’t leave him there.”
“It is too late, Celdorn. If you go back, you will die,” Elbrion argued. “You owe it to your men and to Elena not to walk into certain death.”
Celdorn glanced back toward Mordan. He knew Elbrion was right; he was already choking on the smoke. “Pull me up,” he growled, furious that he couldn’t retrieve the young man’s body. Mordan deserved better than to be buried alongside the other vermin in this building.
When he was finally above ground, Celdorn stood over the opening, watching the dance of the flames in the depths below, his shoulders bent with sorrow.
Dalgo joined him. “Are you injured?” The healer reached toward Celdorn’s brow.
“No, just a few scrapes.” He shoved Dalgo’s hand away. “Are the children safe?”
“They were out long before you. When the men heard the rumble, they moved the children outside.” He nodded toward those gathered on the far side of the collapsed building.
“Did the other men make it out unharmed?”
“There are a few injuries; Zokar’s is the worst. They are minor, however, compared to the damage inflicted on the children by their captors.”
Celdorn stood with his men, staring at the rubble as smoke continued to rise, trying to make sense of what had just happened. He looked across at the children who’d escaped through the front door. Many of his men sat with them, holding one or two. Others had picked up children and were walking back and forth trying to soothe them. These were young Guardians who’d seen little hardship in their lives, who’d not yet been in battle or killed a man—before tonight. Their faces were now locked in the wide-eyed, vacant stares of shock. Comforting the children seemed to give them solace.
Celdorn turned around and saw another group of children behind him, who must have been in the back building. Kendil approached.
“What did you find in there?” Celdorn nodded toward the building.
The young Guardian rubbed the back of his neck and shifted his weight. “We found a series of small roo
ms with beds, apparently for individual use. About ten of them were occupied. Some of the things I’ve seen tonight, I never could have imagined. Their deaths were far too easy; they deserved a thousand times worse.” His gaze drifted past Celdorn’s shoulder. “I don’t know what to do with all the anger I feel, but this is not enough.” He dropped his chin. “It’s not enough.”
Celdorn put his hand on Kendil’s shoulder. “I think every man here would agree with you. I don’t know how, but we’ll find our way through this.”
Kendil’s fists clenched and unclenched. “I doubt I’ll sleep well for a long time.”
Nador joined them.
“What did you find in the small building?” Celdorn asked.
“Three isolation cells. No windows, furniture, blankets or chamberpot and probably no food or water,” Nador reported, his voice hollow. “Fortunately, only one was occupied. The girl was extremely weak and would not or could not speak to us. Dalgo’s been tending her.” He paused and shifted his weight, his arms pulled tightly against his body. “This place is right out of the stories of Agmad, where the dwellers of the underworld feed off the agony of others. I can’t believe what I’m seeing.” He shook his head. “I know men have appetites, but childr—” His voice strangled. “Those creatures were not human.” He drifted into silence, staring at what remained of the collapsed building.
“What’re we going to do with the children once we tend their wounds?” Dalgo asked Celdorn.
“Take them home, if we can find where their homes are. Some of these children aren’t Wallanard. They may have been kidnapped or sold by their families to these men. Perhaps the doqajh in Rhamal can help us find homes for those who don’t have safe ones to which they can return. Hopefully, they can assist in undoing some of the evil that has been wrought on them. We’ve saved these children from future torture, but how do we repair what has already crushed them?”
After a long, solemn silence, Dalgo excused himself to go back to tending the children.
Celdorn’s mind turned to Anakh. “What was that creature in there?” he asked Elbrion.
“I do not know. I have been pondering that very question.”
“Was she a spirit? A ghost of some sort?”
“I do not believe so.” Elbrion paused. “I believe she was an illusion meant to terrify.”
“And well she did. But that was a damned convincing illusion of power.”
“Her power was not the illusion,” Elbrion corrected, “but her appearing as death. My guess is she is a timeless being, like the Elrodanar, and therefore cannot die. She may be able to move her energy quickly from place to place or, more likely, she is able to project an image into the minds of others that she is present, when in truth, she is not.”
“But how does an image bring down the walls?”
“I do not know, but I believe it was the light she shattered, not the rock.”
Celdorn scowled. “What?”
“Just as I made the rocks pulsate when I called forth light, she made them collapse when she removed all light from them,” Elbrion reasoned.
“But how can she remove light if she isn’t actually in the room but just an image in our minds? Can you call forth light from a distance?”
“No. I cannot. Nor can I explain how she does so. I am giving you the best explanation I have. There may be other Elrodanar who know the answers.”
“Do you think she’ll go after Elena tonight?”
“That is what I understood her to say.”
“Is she capable of getting past our guards?”
“She appeared and disappeared with little effort here.”
“But, if you’re correct, she was only illusion; she wasn’t really in that room. Can she kidnap or harm Elena if she’s only an image in her mind?”
“She did a great deal of damage to that building.” Elbrion nodded toward the rubble. “I cannot tell you what else she is capable of.”
Warm breath spread across the back of Celdorn’s neck, and a familiar wet snout nuzzled his cheek, eliciting a low chuckle. Celdorn wrapped his arm around Malak’s neck and buried his face in the stallion’s mane. “Thank you, old friend. You have good timing.” Malak’s solidness and familiarity were a comfort in the midst of this ongoing nightmare.
Malak pulled back and nudged Celdorn’s shoulder with his head, ears twitching.
“What is it?” Celdorn gazed into Malak’s eye, and the stallion nudged him again. A sudden urgency gripped Celdorn. “We need to leave at once,” he said to Elbrion.
“Drahmil, you’re in charge in my stead,” Celdorn told the man to his left. “Inform Dalgo that we’ve gone to Kelach. Move the children inside and encourage them to sleep. Assign a man to each of them, to guard and care for their needs during the night.” He looked around at his men holding the boys and girls. “I don’t think that will be difficult. Many have already done so. We need as much information as they can gather.
“At first light, bring the children to Rhamal, even the sickest ones. I want them away from this place before any more travelers arrive. Take them to the doqajh. And leave a few men here to greet any others who may yet come.” His voice growled. “Then wait at the doqajh until you receive further instructions.”
“Yes, sir,” replied Drahmil.
Elbrion called for Drendil and mounted his saddleless steed with little effort. “I am ready.”
Celdorn swung up onto Malak’s back. “Let’s ride.”
Chapter 24
“Messenger!” a sentry at the east end of the encampment yelled.
At the call, Celdorn and Elbrion, who were headed north for the Greenholt Road, turned back.
An Ilqazar approached from the Flatlands Road at a full gallop. “Where’s Lord Celdorn?” the rider called, reining to a stop.
“I’m here, Logan,” Celdorn said as Malak and Drendil trotted up.
Logan dismounted and dropped to one knee. “Haldor wants you to come to Rhamal as soon as you’re no longer needed here. They’re experiencing some difficulty in locating the father and eliciting information. He needs to know what you’ve found here and requests Elbrion accompany you, if possible.”
“We were just leaving for Kelach.” Celdorn glanced at Elbrion, hesitating.
“I am not certain we can make Elena any safer with our presence, while finding her father, on the other hand, would greatly ease her distress.”
Celdorn turned back to Logan. “Lead the way.” He prayed Elena would be all right until they could return.
They rode to the Flatlands Road, turned south, and continued until they reached Rhamal, which was the first of the three villages clustered along that route. Logan led them to a homestead near the southern edge of the village. Celdorn saw Ilqazar waiting outside the main house, untethered, as was the Guardians’ habit, for the Ilqazar were their own masters and chose freely to serve the Rogaran, requiring neither bridling nor tethering to keep them in line.
The men dismounted and walked toward the house, leaving their stallions to wait with their kindred.
Haldor met them at the door. “I wish to speak with you alone before we go in.” He stepped outside and ushered them to the side, speaking in hushed tones. “I am disturbed by what we have found here, though I am at a loss to explain my misgivings. We were directed to this home by members of the village. When we arrived, only the mother and the youngest son were here. We asked about the whereabouts of her husband, and she told us she did not know. When we pressed the son, he demanded to know why we were harassing them.”
“This would be the brother that Elena said had been assaulted,” Celdorn said.
“As I recall. We asked the woman about other children, and she told us they have three sons. We asked about a daughter, and she denied having one. I named Giara. She said they had a daughter once, but they disowned her when she ran off with some Farak men. The brother added that Giara was a liar and a whore.”
“He called his sister a whore?”
“Yes, and asi
de from the obvious affront, something about it troubled me.” Haldor shook his head. “When we brought up the maltreatment, they both said that Giara was a seductress and had been all her life, that she had taunted and teased men since she could walk, even her own father.”
“They blamed her?” Celdorn was incredulous.
“Apparently, she was so beguiling from birth that none, not even her own father, could resist succumbing to the child,” Haldor said, an uncharacteristic acidity in his voice. “The brother claims nothing inappropriate happened in the home or anywhere else, except for Giara throwing herself at Domar. He added that his father was nothing but a loving and caring parent and that his brothers would concur. He believes his sister is a nymphet, inventing stories to cover her own disgusting behavior, and she is now deluded by her own lies.”
“Did they speak any truth?” Elbrion asked.
“Not a word. I could feel the deception pouring out of their bodies, in contrast to what I saw and heard from Elena, whose sincerity was undeniable. She claims her brother is not connected to her tormentors, but I am unconvinced. I would have finished with him here, if it were not for Elena’s belief in his innocence and our need to find the father.
“As we applied more pressure, the woman finally said her husband went to a meeting by the river. When I asked if it was the training camp, she looked startled but then said she did not know what I meant. So I sent for you to see if you had found Elena’s father at the camp and to get Elbrion’s assistance with finding the truth here.”
