Where was Ewen? Arrows peppered the field, sticking out of the fallen enemy like quills. Still, Bredych’s host multiplied. Across the field, the Dawn Children pulled arrows from the fallen enemy. He caught the flash of Ewen’s banner a short distance away. Blood stained the Riege’s tunic the color of pomegranates. Ryliann didn’t know if it was enemy blood or his own. Where had Bredych gone? Could it have something to do with Ilythra? He both hoped and feared it was. What other errand could have been more important than his need to end the resistance?
* * *
Ilythra spun, swords drawn. Two robed figures emerged from the shadows. Heavy gold masks covered their face, revealing only dull, lifeless eyes. Her blade ran across one of the robed figure’s abdomen, but he didn’t slow. A shiver traced her spine. She maneuvered until her back was to Arien. She attacked the one on her left and from the vibration of her blade knew her sword had found bone, but her opponent didn’t flinch. They moved slowly, but nothing she did seemed to stop them. What were they? She kicked the one on her right. He stumbled back. Crossing her swords, she sliced through the other’s neck. He fell to the floor.
Light flickered through the tent, and the other robed figure stood still. Ilythra turned. Bredych entered, followed by three large Rugians. He glanced at the robed man lying on the ground and then to Arien and finally Ilythra. His chest rose and fell. He turned to the robed figure. “Get him out of here before he bleeds on my tapestries.”
Ilythra struggled to catch her breath, moving slightly as Bredych did, trying to stay between him and Arien.
She examined the Rugians and her heart fell. She didn’t recognize any of them. Bredych didn’t seem to notice Arien but she knew by the flare of his nostrils that he was angry. She also knew he was struggling to stay calm and unruffled. Maybe he needed to be ruffled. It might cause him to make a mistake. She glanced around. In the brighter light, she saw Arien hadn’t been lying on blankets but finely woven and embroidered tapestries. The kind it took a lifetime to create. She reached behind her, yanked one off the pile and threw it in the pool of blood left by the robed figure.
Bredych’s jaw clenched. “Most uncivilized of you, Ilythra. That was a priceless work of art.”
“Where did you steal them from?”
“I didn’t have to steal it. Everything in Anatar is mine by right.” He motioned to the blood, his face impassive. “I see you’ve met my bodyguards. One of my experiments, really. You found the only way to kill them.” When he turned to her, his dark eyes gleamed with fury. “But then you would. That’s what you do—kill. One can’t move around nowadays without bodyguards. Bandits, thieves, all sorts of evil fill the land. Isn’t that so, Arien?”
“To Gindean’s keep with you,” Arien said.
“Also lacking manners. What ever do they teach in the great keep of Siann?” Bredych sighed. “It was clever, really. I admit that I didn’t expect to find you here. I’d underestimated you. Or perhaps overestimated. Depends on your perspective, I guess. I didn’t imagine you’d let the human prince die so easily when we both know it should have been you and me out there.”
Ilythra’s stomach hollowed. Was Ryliann dead? If Bredych was here, then... She left the thought unfinished and struggled to keep her face impassive. “Stone keepers can’t kill one another.”
“Surely you know there are ways around that.” He looked pointedly at the Rugians. He turned back to Ilythra and smiled. “Today, the three stones of power will be reunited at last. You did it. Don’t you feel any exhilaration? Sense of accomplishment?”
Ilythra gritted her teeth. She needed to find a way out of this. Arien’s hands were free but his legs were still bound and he was no good in a fight. There were three Rugians and Bredych against her in a camp full of Bredych’s followers.
“A new dawn deserves a celebration. Unfortunately we don’t have the time. I had intended to start with Ealois, but in the end it doesn’t matter. They both will be mine.”
Raised voices sounded outside the tent. A Rugian entered, dragging a struggling woman. “Forgive me, milord, but you said you wanted to be informed if we found any females lurking around the camp.”
“You’re a little late.” He waved toward Ilythra. “I’ve found the one I was looking for.”
The woman looked up. “I wasn’t lurking!”
“Martina,” Ilythra muttered. “You idiot.”
“Oh, of course, you know each other.” Bredych turned to Ilythra. “It seems our little Martina developed quite a hatred for you.” He strode toward the dark-haired woman. “My dear, I’m not sure if you’re brave or extremely stupid. The fact that Ilythra stands there, armed and very much not dead means you failed. Why did you come to me?”
Martina’s eyes grew wide. “To tell you that she escaped. So I can find out how best to serve you.”
“Your death serves me fine.” Bredych waved to the Rugian.
“No. My lord. I was loyal.” She pointed to Ilythra. “She deserves death.”
“But not you?” A predatory gleam entered Bredych’s eyes. “Very well then. I may spare your life. There are ways you might still serve me.”
“Thank you, my lord.” Martina stared hard at Ilythra and raised her chin.
Ilythra gapped at Martina in horror. The girl had no idea that what Bredych had planned for her would be worse than death. “No. Don’t. She was useful to you. She did everything you asked. She would do so again.”
Martina blinked in obvious confusion.
Bredych laughed. “She was a tool. A tool that is no longer useful. Look at her! Even now she hates you, hates everything you are because it is everything she will never be, and still you’d counsel mercy?”
Ilythra stared at Martina. Remembered every cruel thing the woman had said, every jab and hateful word. “People are not tools.”
“Ah, my child. That is where you and I differ. People are only tools.” He walked up to Martina and stroked her cheek. “You are beautiful. But your beauty is only on the surface. It’s a pity. The Creeians would have enjoyed you.” Metal flashed, and Bredych stepped away.
A thin red line darkened her tunic and soon spread. Martina’s eyes widened and she opened her mouth as her hands moved to her stomach, trying to keep her entrails in her body. She stared at Ilythra and then collapsed.
A deep sadness shook Ilythra. “That’s your mercy?”
“Have you ever seen what a Creeian will do to a pretty girl? Her face would have matched her temperament in no time and her body would not be quite the same.” He paused. “Should I give them you instead?”
Fear edged her thoughts. She had to think of a way out of here. Ansgar should have been here, by Bredych’s side. Without him, she was short of useful allies. Her heart sank. The Rugian had either betrayed her or failed. She swallowed hard and drifted into Teann. She would find a way.
“Oh, no you don’t.” Bredych closed the distance. “Do that, and I will kill Arien now. Are you two close? Is that why you’re here and not Ewen?” He stared at Arien. “Are you lovers? He does favor his mother. She knew what to do with her mouth. Does he?”
Arien tensed against his ropes. “You bastard.”
Bredych laughed.
“You can’t kill me,” Ilythra stalled. Maybe if the One was with her, she could defeat all three Rugians and Bredych. Maybe Ryliann wasn’t dead and the resistance would storm the camp.
“I don’t have to. One these men will.”
She looked at the Rugians. Cool distance filled their eyes. She’d find no ally there either. “You can’t hold all three stones. If you kill me, what will you do with Ilydearta?”
Bredych grinned. “You’re stalling, and I’m growing impatient. Why don’t you let me worry about that? Let’s just say I have some very loyal servants who will hold the stones and do exactly as I say. So now. Let’s get this over with. I
have a war to win and resistance to crush.” He motioned to the Rugian.
She relaxed her arms and dropped her swords. “I won’t fight.”
He looked at one of the Rugians. “Kill the Siobani. Slowly.”
The Rugian nodded, sheathed his sword and withdrew a long knife from his furs. He walked toward Arien. Ilythra blocked his way, and he backhanded her. She fell to the ground.
“It’s your choice,” Bredych reminded her.
Ilythra struggled to her feet and wiped blood from her mouth. She cursed, picked up her sword and knocked the knife out of the Rugian’s hand.
“That’s my girl.” Bredych grinned and stepped back.
The Rugian drew his sword and with a roar, charged. Steel clanged in the enclosure. He was strong and each time her sword met his, her body vibrated from the impact.
“Finish it,” Bredych said. “I have been waiting a long time for this.”
* * *
Ewen glanced into the blue sky, where large birds glided in lazy circles over the battlefield. Crows hopped from tree to tree, cawing to one another, invested spectators in the action below.
Not long now and you can feast. Blood dripped from a wound above his eye. Ewen blinked but didn’t look away from the Rugian approaching him with the mace. Ewen saw the muscle on his shoulder twitch and urged his mount forward, burying his sword under the creature’s raised arm, piercing between ribs to his heart. The mace flew backward, carried by momentum. Sudden movement took him off guard as his mount kicked its hind legs. Ewen heard the crunch of bone and silently thanked the warhorse.
He gripped his sword, facing his next opponent. The Rugian snarled, revealing a mouth void of teeth. Ewen’s attention flew to his right, where a warrior’s head caved under the impact of a mace. As he turned back to the Rugian, one of the Alerran warriors flanked him. Ewen focused on the enemy before him.
The warrior charged, bringing his sword down like a battle-ax. Ewen blocked with his shield. The impact traveled up his arm. He snaked his sword across the man’s unprotected belly. Blood sprayed from the gash, wetting his hand and loosening his grip.
A cry tore across the field. Warriors approached from the west. The thunder of hooves added to the dissonance of the field. Friend or foe? Cloaks flew in the wind, revealing curved blades soon bloodied by Rugian blood. The horsemen flanked his own army and joined the fray as a contingent rode toward his position, creating a barrier between the battle and an approaching horseman.
The young man reined his horse and drew the cloak away from his face in a fluid motion. Dark eyes rimmed in kohl burned beneath the afternoon sun. “Greetings, Ancient One. I am Danladi, first son of Tobar, ruler of the Heleini. We come to fight for the honor of our sister, Ilythra.”
Ewen’s shoulders slumped in relief. “I am Ewen. I welcome you. Ilythra isn’t on the battlefield. I accept the honor on her behalf.”
Danladi inclined his head, wheeled his horse and joined his men.
* * *
Ilythra back stepped. The Rugian drove her away from Arien, closer to Bredych. He spun, and she narrowly avoided the knife in his other hand. His reach was longer than hers. A smile flitted across his mouth. His braids came loose from the leather thong holding them back and fell like twisting snakes around his face. A small acorn was woven into one of them. She met his eyes. He lifted his eyebrow slightly. One of Ansgar’s men? But had the Rugian betrayed her?
She raised the sword with both hands to block a downward thrust. Her legs gave way and she fell to her knees. Rolling, she narrowly avoided the thrust that would have ended the fight. Blood seeped from her shoulder. Another scar. She desperately hoped she’d have a chance to show it to Ryliann.
She shook her head. If Bredych was here, that meant Ryliann had lost. She faltered, and the knife slit her tunic across her belly. Concentrate. She swallowed the fear. It was a flesh wound. The Rugian raised his eyebrow again. Anger filled her. She advanced, her blade a blur. He backpedaled but kept up with her attack.
“Once I finish with this man, you’re dead, Bredych. You realize that, don’t you?” Ilythra said.
The Rugian spoke. “Is this man your enemy?”
Ilythra blinked. What game was the Rugian playing?
“Don’t speak to her,” Bredych snarled. “Kill her.”
“I will see this man dead,” Ilythra answered. She tried to step to the side, but blinding pain shot up her leg from her ankle. She fell to the ground. Bredych had caused the earth to rise up and hold her immobile. She couldn’t move.
“Finish it,” Bredych commanded.
The Rugian nodded, a half smile playing on his mouth. “As you wish.” He spun. She saw the flash of silver and felt the wind as it traveled over the blade. A thud sounded nearby.
Bredych stood for a moment as though frozen in time before his lifeless body crumpled to the floor to land not far from his head.
His robed follower gasped.
Ilythra remained on the ground where she’d landed, too shocked to move. She stared into Bredych’s dark eyes, now lifeless and dull. She blinked several times but the image didn’t fade. He was dead. Really dead. She waited for something to change, to discover some trick of Dominion, but only the rocks around her ankle melted away. Her foot was turned at an impossible angle. Pain blinded her.
“Kill the follower too,” Ilythra said. She scooted toward Arien, fighting nausea.
“This might help.” One of the other Rugians offered her the handle of his knife.
She stared into his startling blue eyes. “Ansgar’s man?” she asked.
He nodded. She took the knife and began sawing the ropes that bound Arien’s legs. He reached for her. As his hands found her arm, healing energy flowed from him. She gritted her teeth against the pain as bone knit back together.
“Enough. You’re wounded too.” She pulled away and stood. She faced the man she’d fought. “I take it you know Ansgar.”
“He is my brother. My name is Dolf. We thought it better you not recognize any of us. The Ganich is crafty, and Ansgar wise. Does this mean Ansgar’s duty to you is finished?”
She glanced at Bredych’s headless body. Blood soaked his priceless tapestries. “Oh yes, and yes. More than. He has my deepest thanks, as do you. I owe you my life.”
Dolf inclined his head. “Then we are free.”
Ilythra reached for Dolf’s arm and grasped it in a warrior’s embrace. “I will respect the bargain I made with Ansgar. Tell him I consider him a man of honor and should he ever need me, I will come to his aid.”
Dolf grinned. “It is good to have a goddess in one’s debt.” He turned to the other Rugians and grinned.
“Ganich?” Arien asked.
“Wizard,” they said in unison.
“You are as he claimed you were,” Dolf said.
“I think I owe my life to that fact. You weren’t certain who you were going to kill, were you?” Ilythra asked. In all her travels, she didn’t think she’d ever come that close to death.
Dolf shrugged. “I had to test you for myself. The Ganich acted shamefully by holding you immobile. There would be no honor in your death.”
“And there was in his?” Ilythra asked.
“There is always honor in following a command by my rightful leader.”
Ilythra shook her head. Arien stood next to her. The gashes on his face had begun to heal.
“We will leave this place. It stinks of evil,” Dolf said. “All the men left in the camp are ours. You will not be challenged. Ansgar will be in touch with you.”
“I look forward to it.” Ilythra nodded at the Rugians as they exited the tent, then she turned to stare at Bredych’s body. She almost couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Was he really dead? Arien joined her. “If I touch him, will I be claiming Crioch?” she asked.
“I’m not sure.” Arien didn’t take his gaze off Bredych. “For most of my life I’ve wanted him dead, and there he lies. I don’t know how I feel. Maybe relieved.” They shared a glance.
“I don’t either.” She’d expected triumph, exaltation. But all she felt was a strange sense of relief. “Crioch is yours,” Ilythra said. “There is still an army out there we must defeat.”
Without a word, Arien kneeled and retrieved the bloodied chain holding Crioch. The tortured sounds of the stone of dominion had dissipated to a dull hum. When Arien touched the chain, Crioch burst into a glorious rhythm. The melody lifted her up into the heavens and swam her in the depths of the sea. In it, mountains rose and crumbled; clouds formed and died to water the earth. She witnessed birth and death of the great life cycles around her, and woven between every note of Crioch, she recognized the essence of Arien.
Crioch was free.
Tears clogged her eyes and fierce joy filled her. She’d done it. The three stones were in safe hands and would soon be reunited. She turned to Arien, seeing him with new eyes. He was Gwagier gan char mehn, wearer of a stone of power. She smiled and reached for his hand. “Let’s finish the job.”
* * *
Dead and wounded littered the field. Still, the enemy surged forward as though frenzied. Ryliann turned to Harlan. For an eternity, their gazes locked. Around them, screams of dying men and frightened horses faded. The sound of steel tempering steel muted to gentle thuds. Responsibility weighed heavy on his shoulders. They slumped in defeat. Harlan nodded his agreement.
“Ready the wagons!” Ryliann called at the top of his lungs.
The men rushed to comply. Some were struck down but others took their place. The acrid smell of smoke burned Ryliann’s lungs. Wineskins, filled and used as catapult projectiles, flew into the enemy ranks. Terrified horses dragged wagons loaded with alcohol-soaked wood into the churning mass of the enemy. Ryliann hesitated only for a moment and then gave the signal. Flaming arrows sent the whole thing ablaze. As the horses ran crazed through the field, the flaming logs flew from the wagon. Flames eagerly devoured the alcohol-soaked ground. Men ran screaming to escape the flames.
Journey of the Wanderer Page 30
