“Yes…” Her eyes seemed to be glazing over.
“Surely you have some information that can help me!”
“I—am—sorry,” she answered, with ever longer pauses between her words.
The fresh bit of emotional energy she had given me was fully aggravated now. “You led me to believe you had some knowledge that might help.”
Her eyes were completely closed now, “I—misled—you.”
“You had already enslaved me! You could have been honest at least. It isn’t as though I had any other options!” Visions of burning trees filled my mind, and my thoughts developed violent undertones.
Tennick’s words filled my head, Maintain your balance, or you will not be permitted to exist.
“She could at least explain herself,” I growled. “I’m sick of lies and half-truths.”
She cannot hear you. She has begun the transition. Her thoughts are slowing, synchronizing with the longer timescale of an adult She’Har.
“You seem to be able to converse easily enough,” I noted.
She must adjust to her new life. It will be some time before she can modulate her thoughts to speak to humans or our new children. Talking with you is not comfortable or easy, even for me.
Just my luck. I was pretty sure that Tennick was ready to go back to sleep, or talk to his wife, a conversation that would take years once he returned to his normal mode of thinking. Meanwhile, I and the rest of the world could take a hike. “You don’t seem very worried about what Mal’goroth may do once he’s finished wiping humankind off the face of the world,” I opined, hoping to irritate Tennick into staying awake longer.
He will not harm us.
I had had enough. “You can go to hell.” Reaching into my pocket, I drew out the green stone that Lyralliantha had given me, studying it with my magesight. I was free now. One swift decision was all that stood between me and oblivion. My mind was tattered around the edges, fraying, and unraveling. Madness couldn’t be too far away. Perhaps I should just let go now, before I become something regrettable. I had already been having trouble maintaining my more sociable demeanor.
You mistake my meaning. I have more to tell…
Chapter 29
Dorian and Penny left the house around three in the morning. They were accompanied by Sir Egan and Stephen Balistair along with a small group of armsmen who had been quartering at the Illeniel house. All totaled, they numbered less than twenty, but their plan was to rendezvous with the majority of the remaining royal guardsmen and the survivors of Lord Hightower’s men. Once they had fully gathered, they expected to have somewhere close to three hundred. Not nearly enough if one were looking at just numbers, but they were counting on their three ‘aces,’ Sir Dorian, Sir Egan, and the Countess herself.
Dorian looked Penelope Illeniel over carefully in the dim light provided by the moon. She was more lightly armored than he was, wearing the enchanted chain hauberk Mordecai had created for her years before. She also carried the shield and sword he had crafted for her. A steel cap completed her outfit. The chainmail wouldn’t protect her from crushing blows or broken bones, but the magic it was imbued with made it much lighter than normal mail. She could move much more lightly than either Egan or Dorian, which was how she preferred it.
Besides his worry for her physical safety, Dorian’s other main concern lay in what he saw in Penny’s face. She held an expression of eagerness there, as though she looked forward to the violence that was to come. Was that what I used to look like? he thought quietly. Perhaps we’re all just killers at heart.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she told him with a daring grin. “By the time this night is over, I may have more notches in my belt than you.”
He nodded, “That’s what I’m afraid of…”
“You may want to consider some new information before you continue,” said a voice from the shadows at the corner of the house where an alley led toward the carriage house in the back.
Weapons were drawn and shields readied as everyone reacted with surprise. None of them had expected to encounter anyone yet; they hadn’t even begun to move toward the first rendezvous point.
“Who’s there!?” challenged Dorian.
Karenth the Just stepped forward, moving silently into the moonlight. “An old acquaintance… I bear word from Mordecai—and intelligence from the city.”
“And we should believe you?” said the Countess di’ Cameron with poorly hidden incredulousness.
The somewhat diminished Shining God smiled, “Ordinarily no, but I am your husband’s slave now. You should treat my words with the same level of trust or distrust you give his.”
I am a widow, thought Penny fiercely, fighting to retain her composure. Whatever he is, Brexus isn’t truly my beloved.
Dorian responded first, “If you are not here to betray us, then give us your words and be swift about it, our time is short.”
Karenth bowed his head respectfully. “He has commanded me to tell you to flee the city and seek shelter in Castle Cameron if it is still safe there. If not, you should seek to find the whereabouts of whatever survivors there are. Albamarl will not be safe for much longer.”
“It isn’t safe now,” muttered Stephen Balistair.
“Things will be far worse,” the god continued. “Mal’goroth has grown tired of Tremont’s games. He has summoned his brethren. Some of them are within the city already, and others will be here soon. Albamarl will become a slaughterhouse.”
“His brethren?” said Penny questioningly.
“The weakened remnants of the Dark Gods, like the one that Dorian battled recently,” clarified Karenth patiently.
Dorian grimaced at the thought. “How many of them are there?”
“There were forty two originally, according to the lore of the church. If we no longer count Balinthor, and since Mal’goroth has not yet shown himself directly, that would put their numbers at forty—assuming they all come here,” answered Karenth.
Dorian could feel his heart dropping. There was no way to deal with such a number. “Thirty-nine, I dispatched one,” he announced.
“No,” said Karenth sadly. “You temporarily immobilized one. Even Mal’goroth cannot destroy them. That is why they still exist.”
“So how many are in the city now?” asked Penny.
“I have already detected eleven, and my sources indicate that more are approaching,” replied the god.
“And this is why he wanted us to flee the city?” she continued.
Karenth shook his head negatively, “He was unaware of their presence in any numbers. He wanted you to clear the city for other reasons.”
“It would help to know them,” she said sarcastically.
“He said, ‘Tell them not to trifle with the dead. They must leave the city and seek shelter elsewhere.’” relayed Karenth. After a moment he added, “I believe he means to destroy or attack the city in some way.”
“And what of the citizens?! What of the innocent, the children?” Penny responded in a shocked tone.
Karenth smiled, “He said you would worry for them. He told me to convey that he would do his utmost to protect them while punishing those who slew your king. He also said that he could not guarantee anyone’s safety with perfect certainty. That is why he bids you to take your family and flee.”
“Even if we abandon the city to its own devices, we still have far too many people to move. How are we supposed to get the remaining soldiers out? Not to mention their families—the logistics will be impossible to manage so quickly,” argued Penny.
“Caution them to stay in groups of twenty or less,” urged Karenth. “He said any large groups, over twenty men, might be targeted.”
“This doesn’t make sense,” Dorian said with some annoyance. “What is he planning? What does ‘might be targeted’ mean? Can’t you be any clearer?”
Karenth gave him a condescending smile. “I realize you are not an overly clever man, Sir Dorian, but think on it a moment. He did not mak
e his plan explicit regarding Albamarl for me either, but he did say ‘not to trifle with the dead’. It shouldn’t take a great leap of logic to get at least a vague idea of his plans.”
Dorian’s patience was close to its end. He leaned forward menacingly as he replied, “I really doubt he ordered you to be insulting while you were running his errands, lackey.”
“The insult was my own contribution,” said Karenth with a smile, “but don’t think to threaten me, Sir Dorian. While I am charged with aiding your escape, I have had enough power restored that I can easily ignore any threat you might present.”
“If that is the case, then we can count on your assistance dealing with the Dark Gods, may we not?” suggested Penny suddenly.
“That would be unwise,” said Karenth. “As it now stands, while I have detected their presence, so too they have noticed mine. I have enough power to deal with two or three of them in their present condition; I could not manage more than that. It would be more effective for me to lead them away from you, rather than brave a direct confrontation.”
They talked a bit more before finally Penny made up her mind. “Enough! If what this creature says is true, then we have to alter our course.”
Dorian nodded, “Agreed. What do you propose?”
Penny pointed at the men with them. “Send them along to the rendezvous points. Let them relay Karenth’s warnings about grouping up. Have them keep either the royal arms or Hightower’s design close at hand. We’ll return and gather up Ariadne and our families. We have little choice other than escape.” She looked in Karenth’s direction, “What will you do?”
“Lead your enemies away and clear obstacles from your path if the opportunity presents. You will not see me again until after you reach the World Road,” answered the god.
***
It took more than an hour to rouse everyone in the house and get them out the door. Elise Thornbear in particular, was not in good shape for the journey. She could walk but she still suffered from a large collection of bruises. Also, the poison she had taken, while she had been partly immune to it, had still weakened her. She endured both pain and nausea as they prepared to sneak out of the capital.
Rose watched her mother-in-law carefully, nervous at forcing her to travel so soon after her injuries. Mentally she counted their group as they stepped out, a habit that had grown stronger since she had had children. Gram, Carissa, Matthew, Moira, Irene, Conall, Lily, Penny, Cyhan, Egan… She recited the names silently to herself. Along with their children, the group included several warriors and guardsmen, although Cyhan was still in no shape for combat.
A shadow loomed over her, and Rose turned to see the bulky form of her husband looming in the dim light. His presence gave her a feeling of security that nothing else could. Dorian alone is enough, she thought, no one else could protect us as well.
He handed her a soft bundle, Carissa, swaddled against the cool night air. Leaning forward he kissed Rose’s forehead. “I wish I could carry her, but it wouldn’t be safe,” he said apologetically.
She lifted her free hand to his cheek, feeling the thick stubble there. Dorian hadn’t shaved in several days. She said nothing, letting her expression carry her feelings. A moment later she caught Penny’s eyes on her. Her friend looked away quickly, but not before Rose caught the hint of sadness there. A momentary pang of involuntary guilt washed over Rose. We must constantly remind her of what she’s lost.
“Is everyone here?” called Ariadne, standing to one side.
After what had probably been their fifth head count she was satisfied, and the band of refugees began making their way down darkened streets. Dawn was close however, and the light would be upon them soon.
Their group numbered twenty-one once the men at arms were included. Penny worried about that. Mordecai’s warning had said to avoid groups larger than twenty, but near the end of their discussion, Karenth had also told them to carry or wear identifiable house colors or arms. He hadn’t been clear on whether that would allow them to ignore the number limit.
Since she was the most lightly armored and the least imposing, Penny ranged ahead of the group as they traveled. Ariadne, Elise and the children were kept close to the center, with Peter and Lily Tucker assisting with the smaller children. Dorian stayed near the front, while Sir Egan took the rear, and the other six men at arms ranged on either side. Cyhan limped along on the right hand side, but it was questionable whether he would be able to do much of anything with a broken arm and collarbone. The stubborn veteran wore his scabbard so that he could draw his sword with his left hand, but armor had been out of the question.
Ariadne questioned Rose again as they walked, “Are you sure this is the best choice?”
The other woman nodded, “I doubt anyone left in the city knows of the passage—other than my father.” An awkward pause ensued, there had still been no news regarding what had happened to Lord Hightower.
Finally Ariadne spoke, “I find it odd that it would be hidden in a church.”
Rose shrugged, “Before James, the monarchs of Lothion were close allies of the Four Churches.” The escape route they were planning to use lay in the cellar of a now abandoned church. It had previously been dedicated to Millicenth, but since the ejection of the churches from the capital it had been largely abandoned. It was likely inhabited by the poor and homeless now.
“I am still uncomfortable with abandoning the citizens who remain,” stated the Princess.
“I think we all feel the same, but we have little choice. As a ruler, you will be faced with many more such dilemmas,” replied Rose.
Ariadne’s eyebrows went up, “You think Roland is…”
“No. I don’t know. I hope he is safe and the others as well. I spoke out of place,” said Rose. A moment later she added, “If we survive this—I think you will be a great queen. Your father and mother would have been proud.”
Carissa began squirming in her mother’s arms then, and Rose held her to her chest, fearful that she might begin to cry. Ariadne didn’t reply, but she squeezed Rose’s shoulder with her hand. Looking up, Rose thought she saw tears in the younger woman’s eyes, but it might have been her imagination in the dim light. Neither of them spoke for a while.
Luck was with the small group, and they encountered no one on the streets, although they heard strange noises in the distance. They reached the large building that nestled against one of the city’s outer walls in less than an hour, and much to their surprise the place was empty of human occupants. Charred wood and refuse littered the halls, a testament to the vagrants and transients who had been using the building off and on since its owners had fled the city.
Rose led them to a large cellar door and down into a big room that appeared to have once housed a great array of wine bottles. Now it was adorned only with broken bottles and empty wooden casks. The place was so dark that Penny was forced to take out the enchanted globe she had brought from the Illeniel house. The glass had been another of Mordecai’s left behind works. It glowed brightly, illuminating the cellar once she had withdrawn it from its heavy wool bag.
“There should be a door here, along the eastern wall,” Rose informed them.
“You’ve never seen it?” asked Sir Egan.
“I’ve never been here before,” Rose replied. “I only know of it from my father’s words to me years ago.”
“That seems a pretty thin bit of information for us to be…,” Egan began, but he was interrupted by Elise Thornbear.
“Sir Egan, my daughter-in-law’s memory and judgment are second to none. If she says a safe passage is hidden here it would behoove you to look for it rather than cast aspersions.”
The Knight of Stone ducked his head in acknowledgement of Lady Thornbear’s admonishment. “My apologies, I meant no disrespect.”
Gram had gone to one corner with Matthew and Moira. He spoke up, “Moira says it’s over here, Grandmother.”
Rose clucked aloud at her forgetfulness, “We should have asked Moira firs
t. I keep forgetting her extra senses.”
A short search of the hidden door revealed an iron ring, and Sir Egan used his strength to pull the heavy stone section back so that they could enter. Beyond, a dark tunnel stretched out into the distance. It was only four feet in height so everyone was forced to duck down and hunch their shoulders as they walked. The air was musty and full of the dank smell of mold, but the passage itself was free of debris or even spider webs.
All of the men found it difficult to move in the confined space but Cyhan was unable to continue. His broken collarbone made changes in posture intensely painful, and walking while bent over was too much even for him. In the end, they rigged a makeshift litter out of a cloak and two spears that they used to drag him through the small corridor. It was still painful, but only someone who knew him well could see the signs in his face.
“You should have let my mother give you something,” said Dorian as he dragged the litter. He was referring to something Elise had told Cyhan before they left. She had offered to fix the older warrior some tea that would relieve his pain while they traveled. Cyhan had refused, of course.
Glancing back Dorian saw a smile on Cyhan’s face, always an awkward expression for the taciturn man. “I prefer not to dull my senses,” he replied.
Dorian gave a short laugh, “Senses or senseless, you won’t be much use in a fight. You just like to torture yourself.”
Both of them knew that even with the injuries he possessed, Cyhan was still more dangerous than any three men combined, but the older veteran didn’t choose to argue the point. “After everything I’ve been through, I’m inclined to agree with you.”
It was unusual for Cyhan to offer up so many words without some functional purpose, usually regarding orders or tactics. Dorian thought about the words for a moment before replying, “I’m starting to think anyone who chooses this path in life is a fool.”
“What path?” asked Cyhan, with brows raised.
Dorian was forced to keep his eyes on the ground, but he used one hand to tap the hilt of the great sword strapped across his back. “This one.”