SWNOVELS Iceblade: Chapter 19
THE ICY WIND FROM THE snowfields is blowing cold and sharp in the early dawn. I pull my cloak around me and follow Jarl Hagen, Marin and Brac along narrow trails that weave invisibly among the cliffs and outcroppings. Nem is behind me, watching our backs. I know she still doesn’t fully trust the Jarl any more than I do.
I make sure to remember exactly where the different branches and links from this perched trail give almost vertical ascents and descents to other, smaller tracks. In some places the natural lie of the cliff gives out to leave only a blank granite face where pegs for footholds have been driven into the sheer rock while the handholds are no more than a few iron bars held in place by steel wedges driven into cracks.
It would be possible to move a whole army along these precarious trails from one end of the gorge to the other, out of sight of any invaders on the riverside track below. But it would take time, moving in single file on difficult terrain. Even so, that is exactly what Hagen hopes the Northland reinforcements will do when they get the call from his messengers. Meanwhile, we have to prevent the Rapathians from getting through the narrow gorge before the clans arrive. With only Hagen’s garrison of a hundred warriors at our backs.
I wish Marin could think of something better.
A small group of riders approaches from the south. They are constrained to travel only four abreast on the narrow road below us, cut into the cliff and perched above the river. Hagen hails the leader and leaps down the steep rocks to stand in front of him. I’m impressed by the way he moves, almost as agile as Marin despite his huge bulk.
“Steen! Who is this you bring here?” Hagen indicates the riders accompanying the Northlander. Some of them look familiar but for a moment I can’t place them. They are unarmed and being followed suspiciously by Steen’s five companions keeping to the rear, bows ready in their hands. Steen dismounts and beats a mailed fist across his chest in Northlander respect for his Jarl.
“Enemy scouts. Part of an invading army, approaching barely a day south of here. But they surrendered without a fight. Said they were looking for you.”
“That’s because they are reinforcements, not enemy scouts.” Marin steps forward. “I asked them to meet me here.”
To my relief Hagen doesn’t argue. He signals his men to return the surrendered weapons. Allantis dismounts with a grin of relief and grips Marin’s arm in welcome.
“Marin! Glad we ran into you when we did. I had no idea things were so territorial in these parts.” He glances back apologetically at the twenty archers with him. “I am sorry to bring so few. There are ten Eldrin following, who have also surrendered to capture. Northlander scouts are good at concealment in their own territory.”
Marin returns his grip. “We are relying on that particular skill to keep the invaders back until the rest of the Northland Jarls can get their warriors here. Why so few of you? Did you run into trouble?”
“You know most of it already.” Allantis gives me an awkward sideways look. “It was taking too long to track down the other plotters at Blackthorn so the king’s household was moved on to another safe house with one of the Eldrin disguised as Tandarion, apparently so sick with grief that only his physician can visit him. One of your female fighters volunteered to be wrapped in blankets and pose as the unconscious Sarinder. Meanwhile Tandarion and his nephew stayed at Blackthorn, guarded only by Eldrin. The medics said that Sarinder was still too badly wounded to risk moving him.” He notices my gasp of alarm. “But they are confident he will fully recover.”
Marin frowns. “Maybe I should have tried that trick with the king straight away. I was trying to balance the risk to Tandarion against the risk of dividing our numbers and reducing reinforcements for this battle. Which has happened anyway.”
Allantis shakes his head. “It was worth trying to find the traitor quickly. Only the Eldrin seem immune to Farang’s spies, although I am confident of the loyalty of the archers I brought with me.” He glances again at me. “I gave them the news this morning that Sarinder regained consciousness and confirmed it was the steward who stabbed him. In case anyone decided to hand out justice when we met up with you. But apart from the Eldrin and Tandarion, everyone else is still being told you are guilty until the Eldrin have finished hunting the traitors.”
I suppose it means a partial reprieve––so long as I don’t go anywhere near the royal household until that particular hunt concludes.
Steen and the archers continue north to Raven while Allantis joins us, following Hagen south along the perched trails. I make sure to stand next to him while we wait our turn on a particularly awkward pegged section. I need to ask the question burning the back of my mind.
“Allantis, any news of Deris?”
“He recovered from the fever. But… for some reason the medics wanted to get him straight back to Maratic, even though he was still weak.”
I glance up at Marin, standing behind me. He acknowledges with a slight movement of his head, enough to tell me this was on his orders. I look away, knowing all too well why he wants to get Deris back under Jantian’s supervision as soon as possible.
The sun has almost dipped to the horizon when the rock walls ahead of us fall away in ranks of lower outcroppings and we can look down on the wedge of flat land that gradually narrows into the mouth of the gorge.
The invaders are already here, setting up camp. I am not surprised to see the Samarian army allocated to the front line, ready to take the force of any attack from the north that might come in the night. Marin estimates their numbers are barely a thousand, thanks to Farang’s long term undermining of the military in preparation for this betrayal. The red and black ranks of their Rapathian oppressors fill the flat meadow behind them.
“Do they really need a thousand Rapathians behind them to make sure they follow orders?
Marin finishes his estimate of numbers. “More like three thousand. But this is not just to ensure that every Samarian soldier dies before the Northlanders cut through to the Rapathians behind them. The invaders will have been given permission to loot every fylke for anything they can find and collect a bounty on every slave they capture to work the mines when the existing workforce drops from exhaustion. This is the usual method for Purmut to pay his soldiers.”
Hagen lets out an angry growl. “Over my dead body.” He looks at Marin with new respect. “If your people help us stop them tomorrow we can talk again about a longer alliance to rid your country of this plague.” He turns back towards Raven as if embarrassed by the mere mention of an alliance with Samaran. I watch his retreating bulk as he swings himself up the precipitous pathway through the rocks, ready to oversee the team preparing a rockfall to block the track at the narrow point just ahead of us.
“Brac, can we trust that offer?” It seems like more bluster and show.
“Still provisional on how he judges our performance tomorrow. But once he decides t’ give his oath, he’ll follow it through to the death if that’s what it takes.”
I think of the Fang’s smooth words and promises that conceal nothing but lies and treachery and begin to understand a little of the Jarl’s distrust of Southerners.
Brac finds the descent trail and leads the way closer to the Samarian camp. The four of us halt on a concealed ledge near the foot of the rock wall to wait for darkness.
Marin wakes me after a few hours’ sleep. With my night vision now the sharpest of any of us, even Deris, there was no question that scouting the enemy camp would fall to anyone else but me. Marin points out the larger tents of the two traitor generals. All I have to do is find a safe route in and out of the camp between the sentries, and then report back details to him.
I slip silently between the rocks at the edge of the camp and move from shadow to shadow. My sentan awareness tells me something is not right and I know there is more to it than the dull background sounds of an army encamped all around me.
I strain my night vision to penetrate the darkness as I stalk silently between the rough tents of the Samarian troops. It seems their Rapathian overlords have taken the best of everything, confirmation that they don’t expect the captive army to survive beyond tomorrow. But there is a sense of threat here that I don’t understand and it is more than simply the way my own people are being used as war-fodder.
Suddenly dark shapes emerge from the shadows as six Rapathian warriors surround me. I shrink back into a patch of deeper darkness, hardly daring to breathe. I have no idea what to do. I can almost certainly fight my way out, but the noise will alert the whole camp and we lose our chance to remove the traitors undetected.
And then I feel a breath of ice and lightning in the wind, a hollow emptiness whispering in my ears and I remember too late where I have felt this before. Dark wings fold around me and cold hands grip my waist.
We don’t go far. In fact, I’m amazed the Shadowblade manages to make it to the far side of the jagged line of rocks beyond the gorge before he is crippled by the pain of the curse that forbids him to help any of his adepts. We crash to the ground in the lee of a cluster of boulders. He coughs, spits blood, and leans against the cliff wall. Much as I would love to be free of him, I can’t risk losing him now. Not when I have just been chosen for a mission for which I am better qualified than any of the Eldrin.
I know what to do. I grab his hands and push. For the first time, I can feel exactly how far to go with this without killing myself in the process. Even so, I have a few moments of doubt as the outline of the grey rock above me blurs and swims in my vision and the ground seems to rise up and hit the side of my head as I pass out.
When I wake he is standing over me, a look of both puzzlement and triumph on his pale features. If I was feeling stronger I would be furious. As it is, my voice sounds feeble and irritated and definitely not compelling.
“Why did you drag me away? I had a job to do and my friends are relying on me!”
He shrugs. “I just saved your life. At the cost of considerable pain and risk to my own, I might add. There were barely seconds left before your death. You could have killed the six guards lying in ambush but not the whole Rapathian detachment. Any closer and those warriors would not have been able to dismiss what they saw as a mere shadow.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“The Rapathians set extra guards inside some of the Samarian tents to ensure obedience if there was a Northlander attack. They would have been on you at the first sound of a fight. You need my shadow when you return to scout a safe route through those outposts without being seen.”
I don’t trust him. And I don’t like being reminded of the unacceptable source of my skill just as Marin starts to trust me enough to take on the role of scout. I try to get back on my feet but it is still too soon. I settle for perching on a rock. At least I’m sitting upright and can look him in the eye.
“How long have I been unconscious?”
His triumphant smile returns briefly before he masks it again. “Hardly at all. You will need a few more minutes to recover before you can fight again.”
“That’s… a lot faster than before.”
“How observant.” He makes no effort to hide his distain. “You are getting stronger, able to deal with transferring power.”
I wait for more information. I need to know why this is happening but I can tell he is not going to offer anything more. At least he chooses to speak the truth and then use layers of silence to hide what he doesn’t want to reveal. Easier to deal with than Farang’s alternative facts.
The things we used to call lies.
Maybe I can use my recovery time to learn more about this strange Elemental and perhaps he will accidently reveal something useful.