“And you expect me to do that? You didn’t see him at father’s funeral. That man doesn’t like me at all.”
“He doesn’t like anyone. That’s my point. We can’t just send anyone to talk to him. Otherwise, he’ll be insulted.”
“Then why don’t you go. You’re better at this sort of thing.”
“I can’t go. I need to be here. There’s too much work to do.”
“Send someone else then.”
“This is too important for me to trust with someone else,” said Jonrell, almost pleading. “If Jeldor listens to anyone, it would be either you or me. I’m the only one who can command an army so it must be you that goes to Ithanthul.”
“Are things so bad, Jonrell?”
Jonrell let out a deep sigh and ran his hand through his hair. Suddenly he seemed much older, and she saw for the first time the stress he hid so well. “Yes. This is our best and perhaps only chance.” As if sensing Elyse’s sudden dread, he forced a smile and rested his hands on her shoulders. “Look, in front of others, I have to keep any reservations hidden lest they creep into the hearts and minds of those I’m trying to help.” He paused. “Your subjects will mirror the way you carry yourself. A soldier, especially, must be able to look for strength in those he’s fighting for. Otherwise, he is as good as dead. Remember that.”
“Then why are you letting your guard down now?”
“Because I need you to understand the severity of our situation. I never intended for you to sit here and wait for Tomalt. If Tomalt captures Cathyrium, being with Jeldor will give you a chance to escape back to Lyrosene or at least find safety somewhere outside of Cadonia. Don’t look surprised. The worst is always a possibility, though I don’t believe it will come to that.” His face grew hard once again and all the doubt Elyse had glimpsed washed away. “I won’t allow it to happen.”
“Then why make such a big production about me coming here?”
“In a way you’re extra bait for Tomalt. We need him to attack us while Grayer strengthens the army at Lyrosene.”
“Well, he’s going to know I’m not here anymore once everyone sees me leaving.”
“Not if you leave now. Only the night watch is up and we can easily keep them from spotting you. Plus, if someone does, they’ll never assume the queen is leaving, especially to seek aid from Jeldor in the middle of winter.”
“I’m sure they will find out eventually. After all, you can’t tell people I’m in the tower sleeping forever.”
“No, but if you came down suddenly with a strange illness…I mean, you did look under the weather this evening. I said so myself, didn’t I?”
So that’s why he made such a big deal about me needing rest.
“But,” he continued, “if no one even catches a glimpse of you, people will begin to ask questions. That’s where Lobella comes into play.”
Elyse cocked her head. “You expect her to impersonate me? We look nothing alike.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. You two are practically the same height and build. It is the hair that throws things off. But Hag has something that will dye her hair to match yours. Then all we need her to do is walk in front of an open window from time to time or have a servant catch a quick glance through a dimly lit doorway and we should be ok.”
“But won’t people question her disappearance?”
“Not likely. We’ve only just arrived today. And with so many among our party, it will be hard to keep track of who was who. But that may be different come tomorrow. Which is why you must leave tonight.”
“What makes you think she’ll go along with the charade?”
“I just informed her before coming to you. In fact, she should be on her way up shortly.”
“That is an unfair thing to do to her. She is a friend.”
“War isn’t fair. But everyone must play their part in the game if we ever hope to win, including Lobella.”
What am I supposed to do? He told me to trust him. “Fine. Then who am I going with. Surely, you don’t expect me to travel for weeks across the country by myself.”
“Hadan and Willum, four others they’ve selected from the army, and then two I’m personally selecting from the Hell Patrol.”
“Who exactly from your crew?”
“Rygar. There are few others with sharper senses and you’ll need those in order to watch out for any bandits on the road.”
Bandits? This is crazy. “And the other?”
“Kroke.”
“The one always playing with the knives?”
“That’s him.”
She shuddered. “I don’t like him. He frightens me.”
“He doesn’t look like much, but he frightens a lot of people and with good reason. He has an area of expertise you’ll need while traveling.”
“What area is that?”
“Killing.”
Elyse swallowed hard.
“Don’t worry. I’ve known the man for years. I promise he will not harm you. In fact, he will do whatever is necessary to ensure your safety.”
“I wish you would choose someone else.”
“You have someone in mind?”
“Kaz, perhaps. He seems very nice, and besides, even I can see he would be just as able of a protector.”
Jonrell raised an eyebrow. “Hmmm.”
“What?”
“I’ve just never heard Kaz described as nice before.” He paused. “I saw you talking to him at dinner. That must have been some conversation you two had.”
Elyse blushed. “What are you saying?”
“Nothing. Forget about it. But yes, you are right. Even though others would disagree with me, I would trust Kaz to do this as well.”
“Good,” said Elyse, satisfied that Jonrell saw her point.
“But I need him here with me to defend the wall. Besides, you are going to stand out enough as a woman traveling with more than half a dozen men. Adding someone to the group who looks as different as he does will only raise more questions, and possibly cause more trouble. No, it has to be Kroke.”
Elyse didn’t say anything, defeated.
“Look, I know this is hard to put on you at the last second, but I know you can do it. I wouldn’t send you otherwise. We need Jeldor’s troops.”
“And what’s to stop him from just taking me hostage himself?”
There was a knock at the door.
“That must be Lobella,” said Jonrell. “Shall I have her come in to help you with any last minute preparations?”
Elyse nodded.
“Good. Remember, you’ll need to travel light. Only the essentials.”
Jonrell walked up and hugged her tight. “I’m proud of you. I know this isn’t easy.”
He was right, it wasn’t.
Chapter 22
Elyse sat on an old, rotted out log next to a low fire. The log was anything but comfortable but still better than sitting in the snow. The fire barely kept away the chill. Worried about attracting undue attention, her companions dared not build anything larger.
Since leaving Cathyrium two weeks ago, each day seemed more miserable than the one before. Weather alternated between ice and snow, making the road that much more difficult. The only constant was the wind which gave Elyse a nagging chill.
They traveled at a furious pace, despite the elements working against them. The only rest came when Rygar needed time to scout ahead or they made camp.
As others set up camp, Kroke muttered something about looking for a stream to clean and sharpen his knives in. It seemed the mercenary was always doing something with a knife and Elyse had grown tired of his habits. The thought of those grim habits probably would have produced a shiver if she wasn’t already shaking from the cold.
She looked down at the borrowed brown trousers she wore, and found herself even more aware of her situation. All of the clothes she brought with her came from her servant.
I think Lobella may have gotten the better end of this deal.
The queen watched the
men tend to the horses and sighed as she resigned herself to the faint heat of the flames. The journey had so far been a lonely one. She had tried to talk to the men as she did with Jonrell on their trip to Cathyrium, but most were not inclined to speak with her. Rygar was an exception, and the two often shared a laugh before settling in for the night since he often scouted ahead during the day. Her own personal guards, like the others, had avoided any conversation at all. The prospect of talking so casually with their queen seemed to make them uncomfortable. That only left Kroke.
And it is obvious he dislikes me. Only the One Above knows how he and Rygar manage to get along.
So Elyse spent most of the time alone with her thoughts, trying to come up with a plan to convince Jeldor to form an alliance with her. She wondered if Jonrell really thought she stood a chance of gaining the duke’s support, or if he simply wanted to get her away from Cathyrium. For some strange reason, her brother seemed to believe in her. And that only depressed her more. Letting down a kingdom when everyone expected it of her was one thing, but now that her brother was so sure she would succeed, she couldn’t bear to see him again if she failed.
* * *
The large oak at his back blocked the wind. Kroke glided the blade up and down a whetstone, working its edge to a perfection that few others would be able to appreciate. In fact, most would not have even known the blade needed any attention at all. But he knew.
He knew every detail of all his blades, and over time, they each became an extension of him. Keeping a knife in his hand never seemed an odd thing to him like it did to others. It suited him fine that few understood the habit.
People seem to bother you less when a knife is already pulled. Steel scraping against stone brought him a level of peace that he could not explain. He loved the sound. There is only one other sound I enjoy more. The thought brought a devilish grin to his face.
His habits had kept him a step ahead of his opponents and saved his life more than once. He turned the blade over in his hand, tilting it back and forth, and smiled. Its reflection caught the movement of two men slinking behind him on either side of the tree. They were obviously unaware that he had heard them long before this moment. They had tried to mask their boots crunching on the packed snow by walking in time to the scrape of his blade, but Kroke heard the difference right away.
Flipping the knife back and forth in his hand from hilt to blade, he grinned again. The movement served as a distraction to the two men approaching as he set the whetstone down and slid his other hand down to his belt, removing another dagger from its sheath.
In one fluid motion Kroke ducked a swinging ax that slammed into the tree at his back and rolled to his feet. He threw his knife at the man farthest from him.
One of Elyse’s guards.
Willum fell with a thud to the ground while he clutched at the knife in his neck. His legs kicked up snow as he struggled to breathe. Kroke saw the other man had abandoned his ax and reached for his sword. Before the soldier’s hand made it to his scabbard, Kroke stepped forward and jammed his other knife through the man’s palm and into his hip.
The soldier screamed. Kroke flung him to the ground and sat atop his chest.
Kroke brought another blade to the attacker’s throat. “Why?” he asked, showing no emotion.
The man shook his head and tried to catch his breath.
Kroke moved the blade from his throat to the man’s crotch, adding pressure to the point. “Why?”
The soldier’s eyes widened. “The queen.”
“What about the queen? Did she order this?” Kroke had seen how nervous he made her. She didn’t seem like the kind of person to order his death, but not many people ever seem like the kind of person they really are.
The man shook his head. “No. We were told to kill the queen.” The man’s eyes drifted to the knife near his groin. “Please, I have a family….” the man started.
“Then you won’t need this anymore,” said Kroke, shoving the blade through his groin to the hilt. The man let out a howl. Kroke slid the knife out and swung it forward through the center of the man’s chest. The move silenced the chilling sound that echoed through the woods. The blood gurgling in the man’s throat made Kroke smile.
He knew it took a sick man to be so pleased about things but there was always something about the sound of death he enjoyed.
What in life could possibly be better?
A high-pitched scream coming from the camp interrupted his dark thoughts. He cursed to himself and set off into the woods.
* * *
Elyse found a stick and stirred the ashes in the fire, keeping it going as best she could since the others were too preoccupied to bother. It was the least she could do. Actually, it felt like the only thing she could do. She fed a few sticks to the small flames, conscientious about making sure the fire did not grow too large.
I feel even more helpless out here than I did in council.
Footsteps crunched across the snow nearby and she looked up. Hadan wore a troubled look on his face and his hands trembled.
“Is something wrong? Maybe you should warm yourself by the fire,” she said, hoping for a little company.
Hadan stopped a few feet from her and drew his sword.
Elyse looked around, noticing that others moved toward her with their blades drawn. She looked back up at Hadan. “Is something the matter? Have we been discovered?”
“No, Your Majesty, we are isolated from the world. And that’s why this is the perfect spot,” he said, voice quavering.
“A perfect spot?” she said looking around, not understanding. “What are you talking about?”
Hadan glanced over his shoulder. “Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be, Your Majesty,” he whispered, facing her again. “Let me end this quickly. The others want to make use of you first and I told them I would allow them to only if I was given the chance before them. But I will not do that to you. I am not completely without honor,” he said taking a step forward.
Elyse watched him raise his sword.
She understood.
She screamed and with the stick in her hand threw hot ashes into Hadan’s face. He dropped his sword and gasped. The others came at her and Elyse ran. Looking over her shoulder, she watched in horror as a sword erupted from Hadan's chest. Blood hissed into the snow.
She stumbled off toward the woods. Footsteps closed in and a cold hand wrapped around her arm, flinging her to the ground. She screamed as the man straddled her. His look of satisfaction vanished as an arrow sank into his chest. Gagging, he pulled the arrow out and his blood sprayed across her face. She scrambled away as Rygar galloped past, taking down another of the men who had turned on her.
An arrow struck the scout just as his shot found its mark. Rygar toppled from his mount and fell into the snow. The man who fired the shot drew out his sword and walked over to the prone scout. Elyse screamed at the soldier, too far away and too helpless to do anything more.
He snarled at her. “Don’t worry, Your Majesty. I’ll see to you in a moment.”
His smile dropped as a look of confusion took its place. The man looked down to see a dagger buried in his chest. He blinked rapidly, mouth falling open as two more blades sank into his torso inches from the first. The snow muffled his fall.
With the last of her attackers dead, Elyse hurried over to Rygar. Her hand moved to the arrow but stopped suddenly at a shout.
“Don’t touch it!”
Elyse jumped and looked up to see Kroke running toward her.
“Move. Let me take a look at it,” said Kroke. He got down on his knees and examined the wound. “Rygar, you alive?” Rygar moaned as Kroke turned him over. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“What am I doing on the ground?” asked Rygar.
“You were hit by an arrow and fell from your horse,” said Elyse.
“That explains why my side is killing me.”
“What doesn’t make sense is why you didn’t have your mail on. Jonre
ll would have your hide for that,” said Kroke as he started to cut away the clothing around the arrow.
Rygar winced audibly with each jostle. “Be careful. Mail makes too much noise. It’s easier to scout without armor.”
“Easier to die too,” said Kroke.
He pulled away the last bit of clothing and Elyse saw the wound. She paled, but took a deep breath to calm herself.
“I’m not feeling too good, Kroke,” said Rygar.
“You’re losing a lot of blood.”
“Will I make it?” asked Rygar.
“I’m pretty sure it didn’t hit anything important,” said Kroke.
“How do you know?” asked Elyse.
Kroke shrugged. “I don’t. But he’s alive and talking. That’s gotta be good for something.” He paused. “I still need to get that arrow out and cauterize the wound. But first I have to move him.”
“What can I do to help?” asked Elyse.
Kroke gave her a look.
“Please. He saved my life.”
Kroke nodded. “Go build up that fire.”
“What about keeping it low so we won’t be seen?”
“We can’t worry about that now,” he said, gesturing to Rygar. “Clear away as much snow from around that log you were sitting on. When you’re done, place one of those blankets on the ground.”
Elyse nodded and ran off. Despite their situation it felt good to be useful.
Shortly after clearing a spot, Kroke came over and set Rygar down next to the fire. Kroke unsheathed a knife strapped to his chest and handed it to Elyse. “Stick the blade in the fire but do not let it touch the ash.”
The fire was too strong now for Elyse to hold the knife in place, so she set up a few pieces of wood to prop up the blade. While she did that, Kroke filled a pot with snow. He pulled a pouch from one of their bags and poured the contents into the melt.
“What is that?” she asked.
“Herbs to fight off infection and help with the pain,” Kroke answered.
Once the mixture came to a boil, he removed the pot from the flames and set it into the snow to cool. Handing a cup of the liquid to Elyse, he said, “It’s still warm but I need you to help him drink this when I prop him up.”
Rise and Fall (Book 1) Page 41
