“They named the town after her?” I asked, hoping he couldn’t see the red of my cheeks in the dark.
Barius nodded. “Yes. She has been their patron ever since.”
“That’s my house,” Martin said importantly, pointing at a dwelling on the edge of the town square. It was little more than a shack. We pulled our horses to a stop in front of it, tossing their reins around a post set up for the purpose. We knocked, and almost immediately the door flew open to reveal a short woman with wiry black hair.
“Martin!” she cried, erupting into tears as she stooped to snatch him in her arms. She clutched him tightly, her fingers digging into his back, and sobbed silently into his shoulder.
“What’s wrong, mama?” asked Martin.
She held him back a bit, some of her tears giving way before anger. “Don’t you ever run off like that again, you hear me?” she said. Then she grabbed him close once more, as if she couldn’t bear to have even that tiny distance between them.
Barius and I stood awkwardly outside the door, not sure what to do. Eventually Barius shuffled his feet, and his iron boots made a clunking noise against the cobblestone street.
The woman looked up as if she was surprised to see us there. “Oh, hello,” she said. She put Martin down on his feet but held tight to one of his hands. “I’m so sorry. Martin ran off when — ” She stopped dead as she caught sight of my clothing.
Martin tugged at her wrist as she fell silent. “Raven is a Realm Keeper, mama!” he piped. “She saved me from the wolves!”
The woman dropped into a low curtsy, bowing her head. “My Lady…I’m so sorry my son has troubled you.”
I blushed hard and reached forward, trying to pull her to her feet. “Oh, God, please, that’s totally unnecessary. It’s fine. I was happy to help.”
She stood again, looking around as though uncomfortably aware of how dingy her hut was. “I’m…I’d ask you to come in, but my house is very humble.”
“Not to worry, madam,” said Barius graciously. “We must be going, in any case.”
“We can stay for a minute,” I said, giving him a dirty look. “And your house is fine. May we come in? I’d like to say good-bye to Martin, at least.”
Barius sighed his discontent.
“Of course!” the woman said, curtsying again. I rolled my eyes. That was going to get annoying if it kept up.
The woman ushered us in, closing the door and latching it behind us. There didn’t seem to be much point in that; the wood was so old and rickety that if someone were determined to get in, the flimsy latch wasn’t likely to stop them.
The woman waved us to a modest table in the corner with four old chairs around it. They reminded me of Greystone’s chair in the great hall back in the Runehold. I sat in one of the chairs with relief. I’d been in a saddle for almost three hours, and it had been a while since I’d ridden. Barius remained standing, electing instead to lean against the wall by the table.
The woman turned away from us to an older boy who was watching us with wide eyes. From the way he looked just like an older Martin, I figured they had to be brothers. “Run and tell your uncles that they can stop the search,” the woman said to him in a low voice. “Quickly now!” The boy scampered out the front door into the night. Martin, meanwhile, still had one of his hands trapped in his mother’s vice-like grip.
She went quickly to a cupboard and pulled forth a pair of bowls. “My Lady, have you eaten?” she said nervously. “I’m afraid I don’t have much to offer, but please, take what I have. You too, Sir,” she told Barius. She placed the bowls on the table, wedging an old wooden spoon in each, before turning to rummage through the cupboard once more. I peered into the bowl. It was half-full of brown rice and some meat I couldn’t quite identify. It was red meat, that much I could tell, but whether it was beef, venison or…well, I didn’t know.
Barius leaned over to whisper discreetly in my ear. “It would be rude to refuse,” he said quietly, “but this is probably the only food this woman will get all week.”
I nodded back to him. The woman came back over to the table and sat in the chair opposite mine, plopping Martin down in her lap. She placed a cup of water before me.
“I’m sorry I don’t have more,” she said regretfully. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”
“Please,” I said uncomfortably. “Anyone would have done the same.”
“Not anyone could have,” she said with finality, “if you truly defeated a pack of dire wolves. That’s Realm Keepers’ work, that is.”
I shrugged and lowered my eyes, covering my discomfort by spooning up a mouthful of food. It was wholesome, at least, if not as tasty as the meals we were served in Runehold.
“Thank you very much for this,” I said, nodding appreciatively. “It’s quite good. Martin, would you like a bite?”
Martin nodded with wide eyes. It was uncanny how much he looked like Emery when he did that. He shoved off his mother’s lap and came over to me. I spooned some rice and meat into his mouth, guiding it in with an airplane noise. Of course, they didn’t have airplanes here, but Martin laughed at the sound just the same. He devoured the mouthful and swallowed hard. His mom could only stare with her mouth hanging open as her son was spoon-fed by a Realm Keeper.
Barius looked at me appreciatively as I discreetly managed to get Martin to eat most of the food I’d been served. Then, apparently deciding to resume the conversation, he said, “I am Barius, of the Runegard of Athorn. This is Lady Raven, the Keeper of Lightning. We thank you greatly for your hospitality, madam.”
“Less hospitality and more of an honor,” the woman said, flabbergasted. She stood briefly to give another quick curtsy. “Please, call me Petunia, Lord, for that’s my name.”
I barely suppressed a giggle. She had such a simple, honest way of talking. It was adorable.
“Petunia, what happened here? To Elladorn?” I asked. “Why is it so…so…”
“Sad?” she prompted.
“Sure.”
Petunia seemed to sag in her seat slightly. “Yes, it is that. Truth be told, my Lord and Lady, I don’t know why. Our little town was a right lovely place to live until just a few weeks ago. Until the war started, I suppose. The barrier went down, and those black creatures of…” she looked around nervously, and her voice dropped to a whisper. “…of Chaos attacked. My husband was in the town guard, so he was called away to fight, same as the rest. But the guard aren’t soldiers, not really. They patrol the town’s streets, keep it safe. They’re no good in the open field. Still, the call came, and off they went.”
Her voice failed for a moment as she swallowed hard. Her arms closed a little tighter on Martin, who was sitting back in her lap. “They told me about it afterward. They say he saved the mayor. Our mayor’s a good man, and he rode out with our army, such as it was. I’ve known many a mayor who’d send others to fight and die in his stead, but not ours. Anyway, the lads tell me that some sort of fearsome beast broke the lines and got to the mayor and knocked him off his horse. The beast was about to end him right there until my husband got in the way. He put himself in front of the creature instead, with nary a thought for his own life. They say he was very brave. He stuck it with his spear, so they say. It let the others move in to finish it off, but just as it died it lashed out, and it got him.”
She stopped speaking for a moment. I didn’t know what to say. Words of comfort weren’t really my thing. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled, fully aware of how incredibly insufficient that was.
She shook her head. “No, it’s all right, I s’pose. He could have died like poor Yoren, who took a thief’s knife in a back alley two days before the war started. At least my husband died a hero. But when our men came back…well, too few of’em came back at all, if you understand. Many of those that did were badly hurt. But the healers couldn’t help them. They were poisoned, poisoned by the darkness those things carry in their bones.”
“And so they died?”
“Nearly to a
man.” Petunia nodded sagely, as if she was commenting on a spot of bad weather instead of the deaths of her neighbors. “Most of’em didn’t last the night. Still more didn’t make it a week. But a few pulled through, bless their hearts. We’re strong here, you know. I know you wouldn’t look at it to see the town now, but we are. Stronger, in some ways, after the barrier moved behind us.”
A sudden scream from the street outside cut her off. “Rider!” cried a shrill voice. Then I heard a screech like some monstrous beast of legend, and suddenly through the wall we heard panicked shouting and the trampling steps of many feet.
“It’s back,” Petunia said simply, her voice shaking with fear.
“What’s back?” I asked nervously.
Petunia didn’t answer. Instead she ran to the door, checking the latch, then moved a chair to prop it closed. Her head whipped around. “Martin, you hide under the bed in the back, love. Like you know how.”
Martin nodded and retreated to the house’s single back room without complaint. More crashing and cries of pain sounded from outside. I could hear footsteps pounding down the street in both directions and plaintive cries of men searching for shelter.
“We’ll be all right in here, my Lord and Lady,” Petunia assured us. The shaking of her voice betrayed the surety of her words. “We’ll just wait till they pass.”
“Till who passes?” I asked her again. But she only shook her head.
“We should move the table to bar the door,” Barius said, gripping its thick oak edge.
“No, truly, my Lord,” Petunia assured him. “We’re safe in here. It just takes a few passes over the town. It’s no danger to those as are indoors.”
I found myself standing in the center of the room, though I didn’t remember rising from my seat. My hands were shaking, and I moved them to grip my belt so I could steady them. My right hand wrapped comfortingly around the handle of my whip as I heard another inhuman shriek outside.
I stopped, staring down at the whip.
The face of the gate guard Terrence flashed in my mind.
I looked up at Barius. “We have to go out there,” I told him.
He stared at me like I was crazy, which, honestly, I must have been. “Not a chance.”
“I swore to Terrence,” I said stonily. “I gave my word.”
He gave an exasperated groan. “This isn’t what I meant when I said — ”
“It’s exactly what you meant.” I shook my head. “I said I’d help.”
Though my heart was thundering in my chest so hard I could hear the blood pumping in my ears, I looked at Petunia and nodded toward the door.
“Let me out, please,” I said, my voice a thousand times calmer than I felt. “I have a job to do.”
Petunia opened the door with a wordless stare, her eyes following me as I walked out into the muddy street.
RAVEN
THE WHISPER OF STEEL SOUNDED from behind me as Barius slid his sword from its scabbard. He raised his shield, scanning the street in both directions. Both of us huddled against the wall of Petunia and Martin’s house, looking for signs of the attacker. The street was suddenly empty except for our chargers, still tethered to their post and shaking with fear. Their eyes rolled as their hooves danced with dismay, sending harsh, clattering echoes up and down the street.
“We should release them,” Barius said, his voice dampened to a low whisper by the tension hanging thick in the air. “They’re sitting targets here. And riding them will only make us easier to hit.”
“Won’t they run off?” I asked.
“If they do, they’ll be safer than we are,” he pointed out. “And they know how to get home. They’ve got a better chance of surviving the night than we do.”
I nodded wordlessly. In an instant we had the reins undone and gave them both a hard slap on the rump. They whinnied, shrill cries of fear, and disappeared into the shadows that hemmed the sparse torches on the building walls.
The street and the town fell to sudden silence, everyone having fled to the safety of buildings. Only Barius and I remained, the two of us making our way from building to building. My heart was thundering so loud in my chest, I was sure Barius could hear it even over the clanking of his armor as he led the way down the street.
“Where did they go?” I asked in a loud whisper. “The rider?”
“I don’t know, my Lady,” said Barius. “But everyone’s gone inside. Maybe we should do the same.”
But he was wrong. Not everyone had gone inside. I heard a sudden yelp of fear, and a ragged old beggar burst from the shadows down the street, running through the moonlight for the tavern on the other side. I heard a hiss and a thunk, and the beggar fell to the street with a scream. A wooden shaft protruded from his back. Barius stopped short, stepping back quickly to place himself between me and the body — not trying to block my sight, but to protect me from any more arrows fired.
There was a sudden, rushing whoosh of air above us, and a shadow passed down the street. The inhuman cry I’d heard earlier rang out through the night once again, piercing my eardrums in the open air.
“My Lady, it’s not safe out here,” growled Barius. “We must get back to the house.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said, hoping he couldn’t hear the fear in my voice. But I wasn’t going to sit around being protected by some guy. “I did all right with the wolves.”
“This is no wolf.”
“What is it?” I started to ask him, but my words were cut off by another cry — and then a hsss-thunk.
Barius stumbled, clutching the wall beside him.
I stepped back, staring down at him with my mouth hanging open.
I saw the black shaft protruding from his side, a white crest barely visible in the moon’s glow. It was wedged in a joint in the armor. The feathers were black and ragged like they’d been pulled from something long dead. As I watched in horror, the arrow dissolved to nothingness. Blood oozed from the wound, black as pitch.
“Lady Raven,” Barius grunted, but his words died as he fell to a knee. I lunged forward, trying to pull him back up.
“Get up!” I hissed.
“Get back to the house,” he said, ignoring me. “Wait until daylight. The rider will leave. You must get back to the wall. If you — ” He groaned and clutched his side.
“What is a rider?” I asked him.
He shook his head. “No time. Get to the house.”
“Fine,” I growled. “But you’re coming, too.” I hauled on his arm, trying to get him on his feet. It was like trying to lift a boulder. His massive bulk must have weighed three hundred pounds with armor.
“Go without me,” he said. “Your life is sacred.”
“No!” I insisted. “I’m not going anywhere, so you’d better get on your feet. If you really want to protect me, grit your teeth, get off your butt, and move!”
He tried pushing me away, but I clutched harder at his shoulder plate. He forced his way to his feet with an angry grunt. I tried to support him as best I could as we stumbled back toward Martin’s house. It was ridiculous; he weighed three times as much as I did.
“This is idiotic,” I said. “Here, give me your shield.”
He swung his limp left arm over, and I caught the shield’s edge. I yanked it off his arm and nearly dropped it, it was so heavy. I had him stop for a moment as I slid my arms through the straps. It was much, much heavier than I’d thought it would be. I held it in front of us as we continued to stumble down the street, scanning in all directions to try and catch a glimpse of our attacker.
“Up,” he grunted.
“What?” I asked, irritated.
“Hold it up. Above us,” he said. “It’s in the air.”
I looked at him, concerned. For a moment I thought the wound was clouding his mind. “What’s in the air?”
“The rider. Raise the shield, now!”
My eyes went skyward in confusion. Just as they did, a black shape passed before the moon, blocking it entirely for a moment.
I barely raised the shield before there was a shuddering clank, the metal jarring my arm as an arrow ricocheted harmlessly from it and fell to the stone beneath us.
“What the heck is that?” I demanded. “Some kind of bird?”
“It isn’t the bird that’s the threat, but the rider,” Barius said. “Keep that shield up.”
The air was torn by another screech. Now that I was listening for it, I could hear how similar it was to the call of a bird of prey. But it sounded different — wrong, somehow, containing a gurgle that shouldn’t have been there. The corruption of Chaos.
We reached the square with the statue of the Realm Keeper Ella. As if on cue, the door to Martin’s house flew open. Petunia stood there, half hidden behind the wall. Her fear-widened eyes were fixed on us, and she waved desperately for us to come inside.
“Almost there!” I said, panting heavily as I heaved Barius toward the door. Another arrow bounced harmlessly from the shield over our head. “Come on!”
Barius increased his pace, every step jarring his body and making him groan in pain. A final cry echoed above us as we reached the door and I shoved him through. Petunia slammed it shut behind us just as a final arrow whizzed from the sky. Its blackened metal head jutted through the timbers, an inch from Petunia’s face. She screeched and fell backward on the floor.
Barius suddenly collapsed, the burst of speed suddenly taking its toll. Still clutching his arm, I fell to the ground beside him. He gritted his teeth to kill a groan as he rolled on his back, hand pressed hard to the wound in his side.
“Petunia!” I cried. “Do you have any medicine? Something to put on the wound?”
Petunia nodded dumbly and ran to a cabinet in the back of the room, rummaging through pots and jars. Barius lost control, and a cry of pain slipped from between his lips.
“It won’t help,” he said through gritted teeth. “It’s not just an arrow wound.”
“What do you mean?” I snapped. “We have to do something!”
“The blades and arrows of Chaos are corrupt,” he said. “I can feel the poison spreading inside of me. A poultice won’t stop it, but you can.”
Midrealm Page 20
