by Alex Janaway
He needed to speak to those he trusted. Get them ready.
And Cade. Would she leave him with no choice but to act against her?
CHAPTER 89 – CADE
Cade walked into the Council chambers. The table was still there but was sparsely populated, just Sent, Carlha, Devlin, Winders and Issar. She plonked herself down in her usual place and looked at each of them.
‘I’m shattered,’ she announced. It had been a long night. A lot of shit had gone down. A fair few angry voices and lots of questions. Like just how the fuck Yarn had gotten free. And she’d learned a few things. Like how, from what she’d heard from Killen, Michael had been killed defending the Emperor. Also, from what she’d heard from Fenner, when he’d made her stand him a drink, Michael had probably done the killing himself. She closed her eyes. That kinda made sense. The Emperor was turning into a right royal asshole. It was a pity about Michael though, she’d liked the big guy. There was a simple honesty about him that was quite endearing.
‘Shit to be you,’ said Devlin, none too kindly.
She ignored that. ‘Big crowd out there.’
‘Almost everyone,’ said Sent.
‘Where else would they be?’ added Carlha. ‘They want answers.’
‘I don’t think they want answers,’ said Issar. ‘I think they want assurances.’
‘A direction of travel,’ added Winders.
‘Can that direction lead to my bed at some point?’ asked Cade.
‘Probably, at some point,’ Sent replied.
Cade sighed.
‘I suppose we have to make some speeches, etc. Assure them the Council is on it, still functioning, and so on.’
‘Something like that,’ Sent responded. Cade looked at him. It was the way he said it. He had a funny look on his face. It was almost resigned.
‘We had a vote,’ said Issar. ‘It was unanimous.’
‘Huh?’ Hang on, she hadn’t bloody voted.
‘Majority wins,’ said Carlha. A funny look on her face, too. ‘Congratulations.’ She said that like someone trying to be gracious.
‘Huh?’ Always sharp, Cade was. Able to see right to the heart to the matter.
‘We decided that what was needed now was leadership,’ explained Devlin.
‘Someone to stand front and centre. Give people someone to rally behind. To fill the vacuum of power so to speak,’ Issar grinned.
‘Uh huh … oh.’ Cade looked at each of them again in turn. ‘You fuckers.’
‘It’s not like you’ve not been doing it for the last couple of years anyway,’ said Devlin.
‘We’ve just formalised it.’ Issar was still grinning.
‘And what exactly does that mean?’ Cade asked.
‘That means that you are now our strong and mighty leader. Officially,’ Winders said. He looked as surprised as she felt. Damn. After the shit she’d been through, yeah, she did feel a bit mighty. Big warrior, war hero, her.
‘Do I have a title?’ she asked.
Issar looked at Devlin, who shrugged.
‘No, but best it’s not too militaristic.’
Damn straight.
‘How does First Minister sound?’ Carlha offered.
‘I like that,’ agreed Sent. ‘Has a public servant ring to it.’
Cade was appalled. ‘Servant?’
‘It’s just a title. Something for the people. The council will still do the day-to-day stuff,’ explained Issar. ‘You know, like advising.’
‘Huh.’ Cade sat back and pulled at an earlobe. First Minister.
She glared at Devlin.
‘And is everyone behind this decision?’
‘We sent the message to Owen,’ Devlin said, correctly picking up on her meaning.
‘And he’s down with that?’
Another shrug from Devlin.
Cade scowled. It could get nasty.
‘And the Nidhal?’
‘I don’t think they’re that interested,’ said Issar. ‘I reckon they’ve got their own fish to fry.’
‘As long as they don’t fry us, eh?’ quipped Cade. She realised she was still tugging her earlobe. First Minister. First Minister. It didn’t sound too bad. And they were right. Someone had to take charge.
‘Right. Who is doing the announcement?’
‘I’ll run proceedings,’ said Sent. Of course.
‘OK. Let’s go make the people happy.’
She stood and they all stood with her.
Sent led the way, followed by Carlha. Issar just behind. She hung back with Devlin.
‘Is this going to be OK?’ she whispered.
‘I’ve got my people stationed outside,’ he said.
That didn’t give her much comfort. He didn’t have many people left.
They emerged into the midmorning light and walked through a crowd of gathered people. Several of Devlin’s militia fell in with them, clearing a path to the platform. They climbed, and she noticed several more stationed around it.
And she looked out on a sea of expectant faces. A lot of familiar ones. Faces who had walked a thousand miles with her. She found herself taking a deep breath.
Sent stepped forward, and in his usual verbose manner, started to explain the state of things.
Then she spotted Owen. At the front of the crowd. Staring right at her, his face set hard. With him were his Riders and the Erebeshi, with Killen watching her closely. There were the marines. Fenner was chewing on a piece of something and looking up into the sky. And wasn’t it just peachy that all of them were armed? Cade found herself starting to sweat a little.
Sent was proclaiming the decision of the council. All eyes were on Cade. People started clapping. Cade reached an arm around to clasp the hilt of her blade. And Owen was still looking at her.
His eyes narrowed.
As the shouting, clapping and general roars of approval echoed around the square, Owen nodded. At her. Directly at her.
He raised his hands and clapped slowly. His folk started to follow suit with something that approached enthusiasm: Fenner was actually smiling, that big lad Wendel was making whooping noises.
Cade released her fingers from the dagger and breathed a sigh of relief. Alright then. She started to smile and wave.
CHAPTER 90 – OWEN
Owen walked around Arno checking all was strapped, tightened and secured, the routine doing little to calm his nerves. It was unusual to say the least that he should feel nervous, after everything that had happened. But here they were anyway. It made him feel like he was just about to take his first flight.
‘You’ll take care of me won’t you, Arno?’ he pulsed. The Eagle eyeballed him. Yeah. Someone had to be the grown-up responsible one.
The morning was a little grey overhead but the sun was starting to peek through and it should warm up when they got going. The camp was quiet. Apart from Jenna out on patrol, the others were all still sleeping. There was only one bird on the ground, Ayolf. It was funny, but the eagle somehow knew how fragile the lad was and didn’t want to leave him.
He pulled down on a strap, harder than he meant, and unnecessary. Arno made a noise, expressing his displeasure. ‘Sorry.’
Everything was done.
‘That you, then, is it?’
Owen smiled as Killen approached. He was simply dressed in a white tunic and loose-fitting trousers. It was unusual to see him so relaxed, and unarmed.
‘I reckon it is, Major.’
‘Uh huh.’ Killen put his hands on his hips and surveyed the sky. ‘Nice day for flying.’
‘Yes. There’s slight breeze from the west. That’ll help.’
‘Good. Good.’ Killen’s expression was thoughtful. He started to stroke his beard. Owen waited. Obviously, he had something to say.
‘I passed your message on.’
‘How did it go down?’
Killen grimaced. ‘They were a little surprised. But Cade said it was a ballsy move and she liked it.’
Owen grunted. ‘She would.’
/> ‘And it’s not as if they could stop you.’
‘Well, they could.’ He had, after all, resigned his position as General, and was now just a simple Leader of Eagle Riders
‘I suppose. Devlin might have argued you down but considering your gracious gesture during Cade’s um … coronation, I think you’ve earned some credit.’
Credit? Owen smiled. ‘Fine. Either way I reckon they wouldn’t be too unhappy if I never came back.’
Killen looked horrified. ‘Don’t you dare. They need you. And Bryce would have a fit. It would mean he’d have to take charge.’
And now Owen laughed. ‘True.’ Wait. Something about what Killen just said. ‘Major? You got something else to say?’
Another tug of the beard.
‘Yes. Look, there’s no easy way of putting it, but I’m heading off myself too.’
‘Oh?’ Somehow Owen found he wasn’t surprised.
‘It seems the right time. I left some of my people south with a bunch of refugees returning home to Erebesh, and I’ve got a handful of lads and lasses, plus a whole host of ungrateful camels who I think deserve a chance at going home. After all, they’ve kept me alive long enough to see this place. Seems only fair I return the favour. Not that Tomor is happy, he almost offered me his daughter’s hand in marriage for a half dozen camels.’ Killen laughed. ‘You should have seen her face. She was this close to hitting me and her father.’
Owen smiled. A chance at building a home. Thoughts of rebuilding Eagle’s Rest entered his mind. He hoped Killen had better luck than he. ‘I couldn’t agree more. You’ve all earned the chance of starting again.’ Owen stuck his hand out.
Killen took it. ‘Leader Derle, it’s been a privilege …’ He grinned ‘And sometimes terrifying.’
‘Major Roche, that it has.’
Owen let go and climbed on to Arno.
‘Hey, once you are done, why not take a trip down to Erebesh, down to the coast. The sea air will do you good,’ Killen called up.
‘You know, I think I just might.’ And he meant it. Owen nodded at Killen then turned to look down at Arno.
‘Fly, Arno, fly!’
And, with a lurch, Arno spread his wings and lifted off powerfully. An eagle in his prime. They climbed just a little and took a sharp curve, pointing southeast. Down below Killen was watching and Owen raised a hand. One was raised in return. And then he was gone from sight.
Owen sighed. His nervousness was gone but had been replaced with sadness. Another goodbye. But if he had anything to do with it, not a permanent one. He was an Eagle Rider and the sky was his, to travel where he pleased.
‘Right, Arno. Let’s get this done.’
CHAPTER 91 – NADENA
Nadena clambered through the wagon and settled in her usual spot on the driver’s bench. Next to her Meera had the reins, making an occasional clicking noise to gee the horses but otherwise mostly silent. As they all were. She pulled the blanket around her a little tighter. It wasn’t cold, it was just that she felt so damned tired. Six nights and five days with next to no sleep. She had never felt this way, never felt so physically diminished. The relentless effort of staunching wounds and trying to bring relief to the dying had taken everything she had. That the army been defeated and they were fleeing with their lives was just a concept to her right now. She could spare it no attention.
She leaned out and looked behind her. A train of wagons, two abreast for safety, and beyond that a rearguard of half the infantry and almost all the cavalry. What was left of them. She sat back and turned her gaze forwards to more wagons, infantry and the remnants of the army’s leadership. There were a couple of buzzers keeping pace with the rearguard. Another out front. All that was left. All told four thousand. Just four thousand elves left out of ten thousand. She shivered, pulled at the blanket again.
‘Get any sleep?’ Meera asked.
‘Yes. A little. But I’ve got more rounds to do.’ Their mages were drained of power for the moment, so it fell to her and the other remaining healers to keep as many as they could alive and free from infection. They just didn’t have enough of anything. They hadn’t planned for so many wounded. Or dead.
‘We got a message passed down from Colonel Frey. He says that the riders didn’t make any attacks last night.’
‘Hmm. That’s good.’
‘Maybe they’ve decided to let up?’
‘Maybe.’ She looked up into the sky. The clouds were low, grey, and ominous. She looked for a speck, a wheeling bird. No, she couldn’t see any eagles out there either. Perhaps they had broken off shadowing their retreat.
She shook her head. Retreat. How was that even possible? They had been so close. So close to breaking the humans and ending this. Finally. Yet things had turned around so fast. All that she could call it was a defeat. And those things that fought with the humans. She would not have believed it if she had not seen it with her own eyes. Foul creatures riding monstrous beasts and slaughtering all in their wake. Those things would have killed them all if not for the sorcerers who had defended their position and the few wounded warriors who stood the line to hold them off. They were the stuff of nightmares. Of legend. Nadena thanked the Gods that they had not been pursued by those creatures.
Now they just had to make it back the several hundred miles to home. To heal, to lick their wounds. But not to rest. From what Archmage Velland – may his soul be at peace with the ancestors – had said, a new situation had arisen. One to the north. The dwarves had not been idle, nor had they forgiven the slight they had felt was given to them. They had shut their borders and were now building up forces on those same frontiers. They had posted squadrons and companies of iron-clad warriors, seasoned in battle, grim-faced behind thick shields and long spears and axes. Did they really feel the need? Were they truly preparing for war? What foolishness was this? All this because of one person, the machinations of one human. Because she knew, she just somehow knew, that Fillion was behind it all. But try explaining that to the dwarves. Both they and the elves had been bloodied by the human survivors in ways neither could have imagined. Was it our arrogance? Was it our designs that set this in motion? It was an idea that crept into her mind unbidden. That all that had come to pass was because of decisions made before her time, decisions made by her father and his cohorts. In the lives of elves, it was not such a stretch to imagine it. Did we bring ourselves to the brink of war with the dwarves? They had to get home. The troops were needed, the depleted cadre of sorcerers had much to do, a new archmage to elect. And they were months away. Who knew what was happening. Were the Heartlands safe? Did they still stand?
‘Another rider,’ said Meera.
Nadena watched the horseman gallop down the line. Odd, he had a spare mount.
The rider stopped at their wagon, turned his horse and kept pace.
‘Lady.’ He saluted unnecessarily.
‘What is it?’ She noticed everything ahead had stopped moving. Meera pulled on the reins.
‘Colonel Frey requests your presence at the head of the column.’
‘Why?’
‘Something has happened.’
Nadena frowned at Meera. She shrugged.
She understood that her position and rank accorded her respect and civility, but she did not really see why the Colonel had to defer to her so much.
‘Alright.’
She climbed down off the wagon and up on to the horse.
The rider led the way as they trotted along the line. Faces watched her from the backs of wagons. Dusty, footsore infantry shifted warily, waiting to see if they would be called into action. And then up ahead, a knot of cavalry. She slowed to a walk. Colonel Frey had dismounted, and he walked over to her. He stopped short and nodded. He looked like she felt, his uniform was torn, a few blood-stains covered his once bright breastplate. His eyes were black-rimmed and his face was drawn and haggard.
‘My lady. I thought you might like to see this.’
‘Colonel?’
He tur
ned and pointed. A short way ahead, their path took them between two hills. On the right hand one, limned against the background, was an eagle.
She looked at Frey, a question unasked.
‘I’m not sure. The rider is standing there, just to one side.’ Ah, yes. She could see the black shape of the human, just to the side of the eagle. ‘They appear to be waiting for us.’
‘Yes?’ Why did she need to be there?
Colonel Frey looked almost embarrassed.
‘We’re a little short of Tissan speakers.’
‘I see.’ Was this what it had come to? ‘You want me to go over there and find out what they want?’
‘We can arrange an escort, have archers brought up to cover you.’
She waved a hand. ‘Do not bother. It’s obvious this is a parley.’ She nudged the horse on, moving beyond Frey and his group, and past a couple of scouts who were looking particularly skittish. At the bottom of the hill, she halted and dismounted, not wanting the horse to shy from the eagle.
The climb to the top of the hill took her less than a minute, but she still felt exhausted when she reached the top. She stopped and put a hand to her forehead to see better. The waiting human, a male, took a few steps towards her. His hands were at his sides. Not an ambush then. He was young, though his face was both tanned and weathered looking. He had a waspish beard and fair hair, and his clothes were travel-worn.
‘You speak our tongue?’ he asked.
‘I do.’
He nodded. He did not continue, like he was struggling to find something to say.
She waited.
‘I’ve come to tell you something.’
‘Yes?’
Another pause. Then a sigh and a shake of his head. ‘We are done.’
