The Emissary (Dawn of Heroes Book 1)

by H. A. Harvey

  “Wait,” Rowan’s voice was nearly as unreadable as his face, only his eyes held a hint of pained sympathy as they fixed on Nian’s. Nian didn’t like this look on his friend, and tried to step around him to see what had affected him so, only to have Rowan step in front of him again, this time grasping each of Nian’s shoulders firmly. “Nian, please, j-just wait.”

  The more he became certain Rowan didn’t want him to progress, the more determined Nian became to see what had flustered him so. He shifted back and forth, trying to gain vantage past his friend’s annoyingly large hair. At last, Nian juked just right so he could see the camp beyond for a brief moment. In the glance, his eye caught a mass of white and blue fabric, marred with dust and rusty stains.

  Nian’s mind flashed in an instant to a week or more ago, when he had stumbled into the room as his mother had been binding great lengths of just such fabric around Karen as they worked on her bridal gown. He had stared with a slack-jaw at how pretty his sister could look when she wore what at the time couldn’t even be called a dress. He remembered his quip that, until he saw that, he’d thought David was marrying a long-haired boy, which preceded a hail of needle cushions and shoes chasing him from the room. In a flash, Nian realized what it was he had seen.

  “No!” Nian dug his heels in and exploded forward, knocking Rowan to the side into Ikoz as he rushed to the limp form by the smoldering fire ring. There, he collapsed next to the battered body, taking her battered head in his lap. The differences in build and more weathered skin slowly sank in as Nian realized who lay with him, but the revelation brought little comfort.

  “Is that . . . Karen?” Ellia whispered as she helped Rowan to his feet.

  “No,” Rowan shook his head, careful to keep his voice from carrying to Nian, “By the size and grey in the hair, it would be Talitha, his mother.”

  Nian sat without moving for over an hour. Rowan eventually began to move around the camp, checking signs and the fire where he plucked an odd-shaped cinder from its edges, tucking it into his satchel. The mercenaries all stood back in a sort of reverence, almost as though they felt setting foot into the camp site would somehow make them a part of what had occurred there. At length, Ulif nudged Rowan, quietly nodding to Nian. Rowan walked quietly out to where Nian sat, crouching across from him.

  “Ni,” He started softly, “Ni we have to go. They headed out early last night, probably when they found the vines. They didn’t bother covering their trail after this, and they are moving fast.” He drew something from his bag and held out a little figure, charred and blackened, but as he rubbed his thumb along the doll, the burnt portions crumbled to reveal a verdant core underneath that slowly coiled and grew. “I gave this to Karen, it’s linked to her. If it is healing, then she is alive, but if they found it, then she might not be for long. Understand?”

  Nian brushed a lock of Talitha’s blood-matted hair to the side, gingerly cradling her broken face in his hand. His eyes fell on the white star resting in his palm. He rested the star on his mother’s face, whispering Kadia’s name. Cuts closed and bone slid into place, knitting back together with an odd crackle. Eventually, Talitha looked to be whole, simply asleep and caked with dirt and blood, but her eyes did not open.

  “We’re burying her.” He stated flatly.

  “Ni, that will take hours, and they are getting away.” Rowan trailed off as Nian looked up at him with a dark, determined expression he had never seen on the boy’s face before. Both boys jumped slightly as a heavy pack dropped between Rowan and Talitha.

  “On side of pack, you will find collapsing spade and pick. We will gather stones for cairn.” Xain stated in a level tone. He then turned and walked with most of the other mercenaries out through the trees and into the field, bringing back large stones as they found them. It was past the middle of afternoon when the cairn was finished. Kolel and Rowan stood to either side of Nian before the cairn while the mercenaries stood along the wagon track leading out from the camp, shaking dust from their gear and waiting. Turev approached and stood across from Nian, looking intently at the cairn.

  “With Orcs,” Turev spoke in clear, if guttural and deep, Hearthspeak, “The men often lead in battle, but our women rule the clans. They are harder, stronger willed and more ruthless, but also wise and protecting to their children in the clan. All Orcs in a clan call the womb of their leader mother. To kill a matriarch is to doom your bloodline.”

  The trio stared at Turev for a long moment, each speechless for their own reasons. He turned and walked to join the other mercenaries. At length, Rowan spoke.

  “I thought the language of hearthfolk was too soft and coddling for him?”

  “I believe,” replied Kolel, “That he just offered to kill the families of the men who did this. I would not call that soft.”

  “I need to think about it.” Was all Nian said as he buckled his jerkin back on and donned his cloak. “We run from here.”

  Nian took off at a brisk jog and the others followed suit. There was little need for tracking now that the deep ruts of the wagon were well framed by the horses of their prey. They ran for hours before Rowan noted that some of the mercenaries wearing mail were starting to drop behind, despite their resolute efforts to forge on without complaint. He had just grasped Nian’s arm to slow him when he stopped abruptly, eyes fixed Spireward through the trees.

  Nian paused and followed his friend’s eyeline to see what had snared his attention. After a moment, he saw a blonde woman moving at a staggered run through the trees. Across the distance, he couldn’t make out much detail, but could tell she was naked, and wounded, as dark streaks ran down from the right side of her chest along her side and down her leg.

  As they watched, the sound of men shouting drifted through the trees. One man, a soldier in mail, came into view perhaps thirty yards behind her carrying a crossbow. The man paused and braced against a tree, sighting in on the woman as she staggered into his view. Quite suddenly, a quarrel zipped through the trees and drove through the soldier’s ear, pinning him to the tree until his dead weight snapped it off and dropped him to the ground.

  “That,” huffed Xain as he trotted up to Ulif, “Was five bow lengths.”

  Nian darted over to the girl as she collapsed behind a tree. Rowan and Ikoz were close on his heels. As Nian and Rowan crouched to either side of the stranger, Ikoz skipped lightly from tree to tree, reaching the upper canopy in a blink.

  “Zere be more soldiers.” He called down, “Half a score, maybe less. Be farzer back, maybe two, zree minutes.”

  “Riona!” Nian recognized the girl from his sister’s party immediately. He swept his cloak off to cover her, careful to avoid the crossbow bolt protruding from the front and back of the right side of her chest, just over her breast.

  Riona’s eyes focused on Nian and Rowan with some effort. She recalled both their faces from Longmyst after a brief moment of panicked confusion. She grasped at Nian’s jerkin desperately and spat blood to the side to clear her mouth.

  “Slavers,” She gasped, the bolt’s damage leeching blood into her lung, “Split . . . horses and wagon s-spire. . .passed an army. Old man said to Kadisvale. Others to the quarry.” She pointed Clockward.

  “I know the quarry, Broadstone Quarry, it’s not far beyond the Crescent Ledge and the end of Lone Wood. Between us and the city by the same name.” Kolel chimed in as he jogged up, “But we need to move before those soldiers show up. Heal the poor thing and let us move.”

  “No. . .” Riona weakly pushed Rowan’s hand away as he reached for the bolt in her shoulder, “Deserve this . . . my fault she died . . . I killed her.”

  Nian paused, his hand had already been reaching up to heal her once the bolt was free, but it froze as he knew in an instant who she meant. The battered visage of his mother flashed through his mind and, for a moment, he thought instead of throttling the girl or dashing her head against the tree. He shut his e
yes tightly and forced himself to unclench his fist. When he opened his eyes again, he leaned close to Riona’s face.

  “You don’t get to make that call.” He whispered harshly, then nodded to Rowan, “Pull it free.”

  Rowan took a deep breath and snapped the fletching off the bolt at Riona’s back, evoking a sputtering cry of pain from the girl. He yanked the barbed head out from her chest as straight as he could manage and the blades of the arrowhead bit into his hand while Riona’s nails dug into his shoulder. Nian paused a moment as he watched the blood bubble out of her chest and pool along her skin. He almost reconsidered, but at last clamped his hand over the cut and called Kadia’s name a second time. He felt the uncanny sensation as the wound knit itself beneath his palm and Riona sputtered the last bit of blood out of her throat then gasped clean air, blinking at him in surprise.

  “Why?” She asked as he helped her to her feet and wrapped the cloak around her shoulders.

  “I wasn’t sure until I did it.” Nian replied, his voice still carrying a distinct tone of aversion, “But you don’t get off that easy. If you had something to do with what happened to Talitha . . . you work for me now, and do anything I say. Until she breathes again or you stop.”

  Riona blanched a little, but nodded. Kolel and Rowan looked on with mixed emotions at the spectacle. The stillness of the moment was broken as two soldiers broke from the trees a few yards away with blades drawn. They closed the few strides between themselves and Nian’s party while the four of them were still starting to react. Another crossbow bolt whistled just past Nian’s ear and found the eye of the first soldier even as Riona stepped between them intent on catching the man’s blade before it could strike home. The second rounded to their flank as Kolel drew his blade, but Ikos dropped from the tree above, driving his katars deep into each collarbone while he let his weight bear the man to the ground.

  The remainder of the group had caught up by the time four more soldiers rushed them. Amalthea slid under the strike of one and between his legs, her serrated knives dragging open jagged gashes along his inner thighs. Ellia’s twin blades expertly whipped up to meet the second. One blade spun the man’s sword wide while the other ran its length between the collar of his mail coat and the chin of his helm. Turev dashed in from the flank and buried his broad axe so deep into the third man’s chest that it bit into the tree behind him. The fourth staggered backward, surprised by the sudden arrival of armed and ready opponents. He turned to run, but was caught between the shoulders by one of Ulif’s javelins. Several more runners deeper in the woods turned and ran back Spireward. Ikoz started to give chase, but Ulif signaled for him to stop.

  “No, there are likely to be more, that was no patrol.”

  “There are,” Riona chimed in, eager to share what she knew, “A whole army. The wagon passed them as they were marching Gateward. It was when I slipped out.”

  “Did anyone else get away with you?” Rowan asked hopefully Riona shook her head, “No, they were all chained to the wagon.”

  “Why weren’t you?” Nian asked, his cold eyes stunning Riona for a moment.

  “I-“ She stammered a moment, “Because I told them where to find the doll.”

  Nian moved as though to hit her, and Riona, expecting as much, didn’t flinch but braced for the blow. It didn’t land, though whether more from last minute restraint or Rowan’s sudden shout, Nian wasn’t sure himself. He stalked away to collect himself and Kolel followed closely.

  “Nian,” He counseled, “I know the core of your drive is to get your sister back, but if they took the wagon past an army of men, they’re beyond our reach at the moment, and it is a long road to Kadisvale. We have time to catch them again on another path. The quarry is close, and we don’t have enough men to fight the slavers at the same time as the quarry guard, nor to split up and follow both, even if some of us could get around the force marching down on us. We should head after the ones on foot before we lose them.”

  Nian nodded reluctantly. He wished just once Kolel wouldn’t have such good logic behind telling him what he didn’t want to hear. They turned and walked back to the others where Ellia was stripping one of the soldiers and passing articles of clothing to Riona.

  “They’re too big.” She stated as she struggled to hold the trousers up long enough to cinch the belt tight.

  “Tough.” Nian snapped, “Be glad someone felt like doing that much for you. I had it in my head to let you run along with us as you were and let the trees scratch you to ribbons. We’re going now, Clockward to Broadstone Quarry.”

  Without another word, Nian turned and jogged on, with Rowan and the others following suit. Ellia hung back while Riona finished tugging on the soldier’s boots. She rested a consoling hand on the girl’s shoulder before they started running to catch up.

  They ran on as the light faded, Rowan having little trouble following the footprints even in the starlight after hunting for withered vines for two days. The mercenaries kept pace at his flank, the ache of tired limbs banished as the rush of the brief skirmish unlocked their reserved strength in anticipation of the fight to come. Watching them flow through the starlit woods around him, Nian realized how aptly the title of wolf suited them. They ran quietly, with long, loping strides, spread out but moving as one. Upon Ellia’s smooth, sharp face, Ulif’s grizzled visage, and Turev’s gnarled, scarred gaze rested a shared keen, intense stare. Nian became aware of shouts behind them. After a few moments, he heard what sounded like bugs zipping about infrequently, sometimes followed by a wooden thunk. Ulif fell in next to him.

  “Don’t panic, boy. It’s blind fire.” Ulif muttered calmly, “As you pass a tree, step behind it and run straight. Don’t speed up, they’re burning harder than we are, keep it that way.”

  Nian nodded, not sure his reply could be percieved as the shadows zipped by, but he began weaving behind trees as Ulif had said. He tried to hold back, but realizing the soft thuds he heard were arrows hoping to bite someone unlucky in the back had an unnerving effect. He was so focused on the arrows that he was taken completely by surprise by two things almost simultaneously.

  All at once, the ground dropped away, and Nian felt the eerily familiar sense of weightlessness as he suddenly floated far over the treetops below. The uncanny sense of déjà vu continued, as pale, willowy hand suddenly grasped his forearm. He whipped his head around to see Ellia attached to the other end of the arm. She leapt agilely out into space with him, her feet seeming to catch a piece of shadow beneath the cliff face just before gravity caught hold of him. He could feel her grip tighten and start to slow his fall as she flexed her knees and bent with his descent. Finally, he came to a stop as she sat on her heels on what the starlight revealed to be a gnarled root jutting out from the cliff face.

  “That’s why they were trying to get us to speed up.” Ellia smiled down at him. “If I swing you over, can you grab the root?”

  Nian nodded, “But I don’t want to shake you off.”

  Ellia laughed, “You don’t know many elves, do you? We don’t lose our footing very easily. Balance is life. Just remember this moment when the Alphas ask you who was most useful.”

  Nian caught the thick root as Ellia swung him over. From there, it was familiar enough work to scramble up the roots over the few feet to the top of the cliff. By the time he reached the top, the other mercenaries were emerging and taking cover behind trees along the cliff edge. Ellia tapped his shoulder and pointed down into the valley below as she picked her bow up from the ground. Nian followed her finger in time to see a group of shadows disappear under the canopy from the span of fifty feet or so from the cliff’s edge before trees resumed.

  “I was getting set to try a pot shot when you came along.” Ellia explained, “I decided that my time could be better spent.”

  “I’m sorry.” Nian felt like an idiot.

  “It’s alright,” She replied, “In hindsight, tipping
them off probably would have been a bad idea. The soldiers behind us don’t seem to be working with this lot we’re tracking. Come, this way.”

  The elf led him along the ledge outside the tree line. She had to steady him more than once along the spots where there was little room for error. Soon enough, they were at the head of the trail, most of the others were there or already worming their way down the narrow path. A shout came from back among the soldiers and a javelin flew out of the darkness, striking Ulif in the shoulder. Turev caught Ulif and hurried him down onto the path, yanking the weapon free and dropping it over the cliff. Ellia shoved Nian down onto the path.

  “Go quickly,” She whispered as she readied her bow, “Ikoz and I can follow down by different paths, we’ll keep them from getting archers on the cliff until you reach the canopy.”

  Nian looked at the train of mercenaries edging along the footpath and, leaning out slightly, saw that the cliff face was well-lit with starlight and was only about thirty feet high while the footpath took three long switchbacks to reach the bottom. Taking a deep breath, he slid over the ledge, starting the climb down. Once on the cliff, Nian saw below and to the side that Rowan had also decided to chance the climb before he reached the foot path, and seemed to have located a decent chimney. Nian shimmied down and over to Rowan’s route, reaching it just before his friend made it to the bottom. He rushed a little, and with a bit of unwise sliding managed to make it to the ground in a handful of heartbeats. Nian rushed over to the shelter of the forest canopy before turning to watch back up the cliff.

  The train of mercenaries were close to halfway down the path, with Kolel leading Riona along at the rear. Along the top of the ledge, Nian watched with fascination how fast a Buros could move when he wanted to. Ikoz wove in and out among the trees above the footpath with blinding speed, cutting down the few soldiers that began to appear along the edge. At one point, he exploded from the shadows of the wood, bearing an unfortunate footsoldier out over the cliff’s edge with him. Ikoz sprang off the man’s chest, driving him down to the earth forcefully as he shot back up, gliding back into the lower canopy of the cliff-top forest.