by Alex Janaway
Owen pointed at Devlin. ‘Devlin has told me you have a force under arms, I have met them. And many of you fought in your escape from the dwarves.’
‘Because we had to,’ Winders countered. Several people raised their voices in agreement.
‘And we have to now,’ said Owen. ‘My people have been fighting since this all began. I cannot imagine the suffering you had to endure to survive. Living is the greatest battle of all, and for those of us left standing, that battle has made us harder and stronger.’
‘And maybe a little smarter?’ said Carlha softly. Those around her nodded at the observation.
‘Your numbers can make the difference. We can face down the wood elves. And then we deal with the dwarves if they come for you. Because you are not alone, we will be with you. We will beat them back.’
‘And how long will that take? What will it cost?’ asked Sent.
‘Too much!’ someone shouted. More lending their support to the sentiment.
‘You ask for a price? You think I do not mourn every life that is lost?’ A note of annoyance entering Owen’s voice. ‘You think I seek death?’
‘Sounds like it!’ was the response as the room fell into another round of heated conversation and accusation.
Owen’s face had grown red. Cade figured he’d not had to deal with such a crowd before. A proper gathering of city folk. There was no reasoning with such a beast if it turned against you. Owen had passion but really, he was no demagogue.
Sent raised his hands to quell the noise.
‘Rider Derle, you can hear the voices. We have suffered as you said. And because of that there is no appetite for your conflict. All we want is peace, to regain a little of what we have lost. You ask us to join you in a war not of our making. We are safe here. What, may I ask, is in it for us?’
Cade sucked air through her teeth. Oh, Sent, showing your true colours there. Owen looked confused, that was an angle he wasn’t expecting.
‘Peace is the prize. For all of us.’
‘We have peace!’ countered Heled.
Cade pulled at an earlobe. The arguments were starting to sound the same. No one had anything new to add. Someone would need to make a decision.
Owen thrust a finger at Devlin again. ‘Devlin, do you really believe the dwarves are done with you, after the havoc you caused?’
There was a moment of expectant silence as Devlin pondered his response. He sighed heavily. ‘No, I do not.’
‘You have been saying that since the day we arrived here,’ Winders said. ‘And where are they?’
‘They’ll be coming,’ muttered Devlin.
‘And what of the Heartland elves?’ Owen asked of the crowd. ‘You think they don’t know about you by now?’
‘They don’t care!’ A man with a scarred and empty eye socket shouted.
‘They’ll know about you,’ said Walsh, pointing his own finger back at Owen. ‘You did that yourself when you took up arms against the wood elves. But they don’t know about us!’
That put the manticore among the goats. Cade sat back and listened to the bitterness and accusation sweeping the hall. You’d think Owen had just signed his own death warrant if some people had their way. Hells, someone had just said he should be locked up, so he couldn’t tell his people our location! Often having been on the wrong end of justice she was no fan of unfair imprisonment. But, there was a kind of sense to that idea.
‘Cade?’
‘Hmm?’ she looked at Devlin.
‘Care to weigh in on this one?’
Cade huffed and shrugged her assent.
He stood.
‘Everyone. Shut the fuck up!’ Devlin cried in a loud, commanding voice. Cade looked at him in surprise. Not often he got that excited. He gestured to her to stand. She pushed herself up and Devlin retook his chair. Cade took a moment to sweep her gaze across the hall. A lot of familiar faces stared back at her. She turned towards Owen.
‘War’s long done, Owen. We lost.’
He nodded sadly but struck a defiant pose.
‘We lost, but the war is only done when both sides agree to stop fighting it. The dwarves know about you, the elves know about you. They know a fleet left Tissan. There is nothing they can do about that, but you represent a clear and obvious danger. When you left a trail of destruction in your wake, you left them with no choice. They will come for you.’ He paused and looked around the gathering.
Cade didn’t disagree, the elves had wanted them dead, at least according to that crazy elf she’d met back at the mines. Owen nodded slightly, seemingly to have decided. Cade narrowed her eyes; she wasn’t going to like hearing this.
‘Right now, all they know is that someone is striking against them. Right now, they do not know that force comes from the Highlands.’ A few heartbeats followed while everyone caught up with that suggestion. It was a clever move; she had to give him that. ‘They know of only one group of human survivors.’
‘They’ll think it is us,’ said Devlin, leaning back and folding his arms.
‘But we are miles away. Why would we strike the wood elves?’ asked Winders.
‘Our enemy doesn’t know where we are. We broke clean, remember? Cade and others put their lives on the line to ensure that,’ responded Devlin, also nicely reinforcing Cade’s reputation. ‘Take a moment and think about it from the enemy’s perspective. Why wouldn’t we want vengeance?’
‘Let’s draw their attention away from you. Take the fight to them on ground of our choosing. They think they are taking on a band of escaped slaves. My people will be the ace in the hole, trained soldiers, veteran fighters, Eagle Riders.’
Cade chewed a fingernail. Time to get down to brass tacks. ‘How many do you want?’
‘How many fighters?’ Owen put his hands out. ‘As many as you can give me. Mounted preferably.’
‘I have a hundred who can be ready to ride south in two days,’ said Devlin.
‘Wooah,’ Winders stood. ‘That has not been agreed. Cade, you are not considering this?’
‘I just want to know what we are getting into,’ said Cade.
‘You would ride with all our fighters, Devlin. Who would be left to guard our borders?’ asked Sent.
‘If we ride south, we won’t need to worry about the borders,’ said Devlin.
‘If you ride south, you pull us into this,’ said Winders angrily.
‘We can’t leave them!’ Rabb said, standing to face Winders.
‘Alright. Alright. Everyone pull their britches back up,’ Cade ordered. This session could go on and on. ‘Owen. I think you’ve made your pitch. I reckon we’ll need some time to chew this over.’
Owen looked like he wanted to say more but wisely bit back on any comment.
‘Are you going to hang around?’ she asked.
‘No, I’d like to head back home and tell them I have found you. I can be back in ten, twelve days?’
‘Good enough. Devlin, see to it he gets back safely. We are done for today.’
She nodded at Owen. He responded with an appraising look.
She turned to go as yet again the hall descended into a hundred different arguments. A hand reached out and grabbed her arm tightly. She pulled it back reflexively and had to fight the urge to lash out with a punch. It was Winders, which made the urge even harder to resist.
‘What?’
‘Why are we even talking about this?’ he hissed.
‘Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do?’
‘Come on, Cade, this man, dammit he is barely out of his youth, he wants us to go to war. We are civilians!’
‘Hey, I get it, Winders. But there’ll be no decision today.’
‘And you are letting him go? He’ll give us away.’
He had a point.
‘We’ll just have to trust him, won’t we?’ she said, not really believing it herself. But she needed time to think about it. Besides, he wasn’t the only one who knew about them. There would be others. His people. She turned and navig
ated her way through the press, most of whom were too caught up in sharing their opinions to bother her. Gaining the daylight, she continued, past those who were desperate to gain news. She ignored the questions sent her way and arrived at the wagons.
‘Sounds exciting,’ said Anyon, pointing at the hall from his position in the wagon bed, his legs propping up the side.
‘Not a word I’d use,’ she muttered. ‘Come on, get your arse up front and get us home.’
‘You seen Carlha?’ Krste called over, as Cade hauled herself on to the driver’s bench.
‘Stuck in there, politicking.’
‘Oh, Emperor,’ he groaned. ‘She’ll be in there forever.’
‘Her loss,’ agreed Cade. ‘See you later.’ She nudged Anyon and he gee’d the horse into action. Cade closed her eyes. This was going to give her a headache.
CHAPTER 9 – OWEN
Owen was given a horse and an escort of four fighters back to Arno, whom he had left a short distance from the bridge leading to the town on what the locals called the Big Island. The tactician in him assessed the bridge, its supporting pilings built around three small raised humps of land. Were they man-made? Either way, it was a good defensive position. No easy way to take the settlement by force without proper planning and the element of surprise. Or overwhelming numbers. He snorted, drawing a quizzical look from one of his companions. Here he was, already thinking about the fight ahead and he had made a right pig’s ear of trying to get these people onside. He had expected some resistance of course, not everyone was made to fight, not everyone was built that way. He just hadn’t expected them to be so damned belligerent. Maybe the stubbornness of dwarves had rubbed off on them. Either way, he couldn’t understand what was so damned difficult to grasp. They were living in a dream if they thought they were safe. There was nowhere that was. Safety was something you earned, something you had to create. His was the only way that was going to happen. Dammit, I have convinced bloody ogres to fight beside us! Ogres. And that was another thing. He had been so close to telling them of the alliance he had made, he had thought it might sway them, give them confidence that they were part of something much greater, that they weren’t alone. But something had stopped him. Maybe it was just his reading of the room, but his intuition told him that a fair few would take against that particular piece of news; the Scotians and Riverlanders in particular.
They arrived back at Arno’s resting place. A few more of Devlin’s fighters had stayed with him and had a fire going. The eagle was watching it with interest but turned his attention back to Owen with a ruffle of his tail feathers. Owen climbed off the horse, gave his thanks to the escorts and re-joined Arno. He quickly prepared the eagle for flight, refitting the saddle and his gear. He took the time to check Arno as well, making sure he was hale and hearty, rounding it off with a hare as a reward for Arno’s patience. Ten minutes and he was away, the Tissans had stayed to watch his departure and they waved him off. It looked like Devlin’s troops at least had bought into what he was saying.
Where should he and Arno go now? He had intended to head north to his rendezvous with the ogres but, as he had said in the gathering, he felt that his people should know what we had found. It was too important. ‘Change of plans. Let’s head home, Arno,’ he pulsed. As they turned south-east, Owen found himself getting more frustrated. He was trying to be rational. They said they needed time to talk it through and that was fair enough, but there was a big part of him – a large and insistent part – that couldn’t help but think they were going to turn him down. It was Cade; she appeared to be the lynchpin in all this. Her words carried weight and Devlin spoke highly of her, sort of. But it was obvious Devlin would follow her lead and that meant that any help would only come if she agreed to it. No Cade, no swords. Owen bit at the inside of his cheeks. How could he make sure of her support? What appeal could he make? He had already left and if he turned around and tried again, seriously, what could he offer? There was nothing except the simple choice of fighting or waiting to die.
He closed his eyes, reached out with his senses, listening to the rush of the wind, the cold chill that penetrated his clothes no matter what he wore. The firm press of the leather saddle beneath him and the sensation of raw power and grace as Arno flew.
The answer came to Owen. And it frightened him how obvious a solution it was.
They needed to be reminded what all of this was about. They needed to understand what was coming. That there truly was no choice.
If they would not come to the war, then perhaps the war should come to them. Maybe the dwarves were marching even as they debated. Maybe the elves were mobilising. If he flew east, he could look for them. Or was that necessary? The wood elves were closer, and they knew to look for eagles now. What would it take to give them a little bait, something to nudge their course northwards, away from the Highlands. Maybe just an eagle in the sky. If Devlin’s people were good enough they would have the time to react and prepare. The wood elves were impulsive, they wouldn’t try stealth. Those bridges would hold them off. Then Owen could gather a relief force, fly to their aid and that would be it. No more debate.
Over the next few days, Owen mulled over this prospect. The more he thought about it, the more he felt it was the right course, though it gave him no pleasure to do so. It was underhand, it was deceitful, and it was dangerous. He was putting these people in harm’s way, after they had fought themselves out of captivity.
But it was war.
As he reached the Highlands, Owen bid Arno take them along the eastern borders, it was becoming a habit, a natural action. It never hurt to add an extra pair of eagle’s eyes to check for any incursions. It was, after all, only a matter of time. It was a bright, clear day and they cruised over hills and the forested lower slopes, the lower country to the left. In the far distance he thought he could see one of the nearer gnome encampments. Always on the move were the gnome tribes, even so, he didn’t like how close this one was in relation to the borders. He thought they’d put paid to that. As Arno curved right, something in his manner drew Owen’s attention back to what was ahead. A column of black smoke drifted lazily into the sky.
It was a warning fire.
CHAPTER 10 – CADE
Cade leapt off the wagon and stalked back into the cool, shadowed interior of the villa. She marched through the corridors and into the kitchens, grabbed a bottle and carried on out the back door, past the stables and along a short path that angled down to a wooden bench which overlooked the Brevis Sea.
Opening the bottle, she took three long gulps and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. It came away wet and red. Huh. She hadn’t even tasted it going down. She took another sip, this time trying to enjoy it.
No. No Good.
Fuckers.
Why had she let that Derle guy into the hall? That was stupid. She’d tried to be fair-minded but all it did was stir up a wasps’ nest. Dammit, she had started to feel like she had a handle on this shit. Life was starting to work out. And now she finds out that this idiot is trying to keep the war going. They had broken clean. Run and fought and bled their way free. It had been months. The dwarves surely weren’t coming. They had lost too much.
She heard footsteps behind her. They stopped.
‘Take a seat,’ she muttered.
She heard a heavy sigh, the unbuckling of a sword belt, and then the same belt being placed on the floor. Devlin lowered himself next to her. He extended his feet and leaned back into the bench. Without looking, Cade handed him the bottle. It was taken, drunk from and returned.
‘That’s good,’ he said, appreciatively.
‘Yeah. I was saving this one. Didn’t bloody look before I opened it.’
‘Thought stuff like vintages never bothered you?’
‘Didn’t you hear? I’m a professional vintner now.’
Devlin chuckled softly. ‘I heard a vicious rumour you were a politician.’
‘What can I say? I have many talents.’
‘And what talent was at play back there?’
Cade took another drink. It still tasted sour. ‘Stirring shit up?’
‘Don’t be so hard on yourself. It was a lot for everyone to take on board. A lot of emotions were let out, memories unlocked. It was always going to be a hard one to manage.’
‘Yeah, well. If they want me to be the bloody mayor or whatever, then they ought to listen to me more.’
‘Not really how a council works, Cade.’
‘We didn’t have one back in the mines. That worked fine. Just you, me, Issar.’
There was a pause.
‘And Meghan.’
‘Aye, and her.’
‘Did someone mention my name?’ Issar said, walking around the bench to face them.
‘It’s like summoning an evil spirit. Just speak its name and “Poof” it appears,’ said Cade, throwing her hands up in the air. The wine in the bottle sloshed, and a few drops fell from the lip on to the ground.
‘Hey, steady with that!’ said Issar.
‘That’s a good vintage,’ added Devlin, unhelpfully.
Issar looked at Cade expectantly.
‘What?’
‘Can I join you?’ he asked.
He was asking? ‘Just bloody sit down,’ she ordered.
Devlin shunted towards her to make space and Issar settled down on the far side. Devlin proffered a hand at Cade and she passed over the bottle. Devlin, in turn, passed it to Issar. After another round was taken Cade leaned forward and held the bottle between her legs, swinging it backwards and forwards like a pendulum.
‘How are the kids?’ she asked.
‘Fractious,’ said Issar.
‘I bet.’
‘I had to smooth things down a bit. Said we would reconvene tomorrow morning at nine bells.’
‘What?’ said Cade, starting to stand but Devlin reached out an arm and pushed her back firmly. Gods he was strong.
‘Easy, Cade. Think about it, Issar did the right thing. Everyone needs some breathing space. Time to think. They get that tonight. We get that tonight. That buys you tonight to come up with your plan.’
