A Bard's Prophecy Part 5

Dahlai's troubled gaze traveled from her mother's face to that of her General. "Will we do the same? Will we die defending this pa.s.s?"

"I hope not," Tranorva told the youngSidhe . "I would no' lose any of those I love. Could it be done, Iwould see the whole of Elahandara fall without the loss of a single drop of blood. But such is no' the way of armies and wars, Dahlai."

Tranorva raised her head to look out over the small party that gathered on the ship's deck. "This may be the last time we are all together. Ye have been more than friends and family to me. Those of us who are gathered here on this ship are an army unto ourselves. The next few days will be hard. We shall find ourselves separated, husband from wife, mother from daughter, loved ones torn asunder. Such is the way of war. Wherever ye are, my faith is with all of ye. Ye are the best. No pack is stronger than the one we have forged."

Her father, the great Warrior Roahr VinDall, nodded once at her, pride apparent in his face as he watched her give her speech. Tranorva swallowed hard, fighting for her voice. When she spoke again, it was there, stronger than she'd expected, echoing off the water like the sea spray itself. "Know this.Before the sun sets tomorrow, Elahandara will fall. I have but one order for ye. Stand by this no matter what the cost. We will take no prisoners. We will leave no one behind."

A Dragon. St. Gregory was the story of the last battle between a Mortal and a Dragon. The Dragons were the good guys in this story. Ayailla sighed. Sixty years in this strange and forbidding future, and she was still learning things a child should have known. She watched her granddaughter take charge, walking through the army of Bears that had gathered to await their arrival.

You were right, Roanen. You were right to summon me. Our daughter has given birth to the future of this land. Evalayna tied us to the prophecy when she ran off with that d.a.m.nable Bear, Roahr VinDall, bless him. I tried to stop her, but never was there a more headstrong child.

Now the prophecy comes full circle. We are tied to all the clans. I wish you had lived to see our grandson, Seanen. He is the image of you. My heart breaks when I look at him. He has allied us with the Elves of Talismar. Our youngest granddaughter, Ca.s.sadara, has allied our house once again with Yarishet and the Humans. And Tranorva. She is young and strong and so sure of herself. Everything we were not. She does not know the meaning of defeat. If she doubts, she hides it well. She is Clan Bear, Roahr's daughter. You would be so proud of her.

Ayailla lowered her head that others might not see the tears that formed in her eyes.I miss you so much, Roanen. Still, after all these years, I miss you so much. I have done the job you brought me here to do. The Prophecy is fulfilled. I need you, Roanen. I am ready to find you once again. Wait for me, Roanen. Wherever you are, wait for me.

"Grandmother, ye will lead the Shamen at the attack on the gates. Ye-"

"No."

Tranorva blinked, in that slow, owlish fashion of all Roanen's children. "No?"

Ayailla hid her smile. No one ever said no to Tranorva. The poor child looked a bit confounded. "This must end here, Granddaughter. Ye are the fulfillment of the prophecy. The Elandra will fall. Under the dual onslaught of thy armies, the mountain itself will fall. Evalayna will lead the Shamen. I will go into theheart of the Elahandara. The best way to bring down a mountain is from within."

"Thy powers are legendary, Grandmother. Why waste them in a pile of rock that dampens magic?"

Ayailla sighed. "So ye say. I have had time to think on this since first we argued over this mission. Ye tell me there is a rock buried deep in the earth that makes my magic useless. What if I told ye this sand here on the beach will make thy axe blade dull? If I blow a handful in thy face will ye turn tail and run?"

There went that blink again. "I do not understand, Grandmother."

"The Elandra have told all who would listen that below the halls of Elahandara lies a rock so powerful that no magic may be used within its depths. I tell ye 'tis no' the rock that dampens the magic. Such a thing is no' possible. Were it so this rock would be quarried out of existence. Every fortification in the Northlands would bear evidence of such rock, a protection against attack by spell casters of every sort. Warriors would wear amulets of this ore about their necks as a ward against Shamen and Mages everywhere."

"We had no use of our Magic below. We could not shift until we came into the sunlight. How can this be so if the rock has no power?" the one called Braunnan demanded, her face a mixture of doubt and belief.

"'Tis not the rock that dampens the magic. 'Tis the belief in the rock. Should a wielder of magic doubther ability for even a moment, her magic will falter. The rock has no power. Already the Elandra's holdbegins to decay. Takuri was able to respond to Balthain's call from within the dungeons of Elahandara with Shammall's help. Thy mate, Cullaelon, had use of his gifts within the dungeon. The rock is a lie built on lies, used to keep Clan Bear from being a threat to those above."

"Then why do we mine the ore, if it has no magical properties? My people have mined this ore for decades. Where has it gone?"

"What color is the ore?"

"Color? Dark. Nearly black."

Ayailla laughed, knowing she was right. "Ye have all seen the gravel that covers the Pa.s.s of St. Gregory. Black gravel. Why is the gravel black when the cliffs above are granite gray?"

Braunnan's face paled. "Gravel? For generations we have mined gravel?"

"According to Prophecy, Elahandara will fall to Clan Bear, and an army led by the She-Bear borne of the Wolf. Nafesti feared the Prophecy. When Tranorva was born, Nafesti set out to destroy Clan Bear. She did not know which child would wield the power, only that Roahr VinDall had mated with a She-Wolf. To thwart the Prophecy Nafesti tried to hold Clan Bear's magic captive. Ye have no' mined magical ore. Ye have but dug a hole in which to bury Clan Bear, lest Prophecy be fulfilled andElahandara be brought to her knees. Another prophet named Mark foretold this day long ago. ' Whosoever shall say unto this mountain, Be thou removed, and be thou cast into the sea, and shall not doubt in his heart, whatsoever he saith shall come to pa.s.s.'"

Or something like that. It had been at least sixty years since she'd read the Bible. She was an old woman, after all. G.o.d would just have to forgive her this rather liberal translation. And a good many other transgressions as well.

"Who would ye take with ye, Grandmother?"

Had she done that? Taken command of the party? Ayailla smiled. Some things did not change with time. So. She was to lead an army once again. "I would take a small party, made up only of volunteers. Our plans are changed. Many of ye who meant to go into the tunnels will be needed at Tranorva's side. We go no' for warfare, but to persuade the others within to come with us. Who will Clan Bear most trust?"

"I will go with you, M'Lady."

Balthain. She sensed his fear of the tunnels. She had tried to leave him a way out. "Ye are a good man, Balthain. I will welcome ye at my side."

"Where he goes I shall go," Takuri announced.

Well that came as no surprise.

"We are with ye, M'Lady." Cullaelon and his woman, Braunnan. "We are known to those below."

Shammall dropped to one knee before her, as he had those many years before, his face once again pale as death. "I live but to serve you, M'Lady. I will fight at your side this one last time."He knew . Ayailla wrapped her arms around the Mage, hugging him tightly.

"I am with you." Roahr's voice, spoken softly, still held more power than she cared to contemplate. Evalayna had chosen the right man to father her cubs.

"We are with ye still, Grandmother."

Seanen. Dressed for battle, now, he wore Roanen's lost mail, and he carried the axe she had blessed so many years ago. He, and he alone, might dissuade her from her mission. "No. Thy place is with the army, Seanen. Ye and Yarwyn will be much needed there."

"Where ye go I will follow." Tyrell. "Mayhap ye are no' quite done with thy instruction of me, Grandmother. I would follow ye if only to see what mischief ye create this time."

Ayailla wanted to tell him no, that he should stay to fight with the other Shaman, but she knew better. She'd never won an argument with this one. She'd never been able to hide anything from him, either. He, more than any of the others, was her true protege. "Very well. Four Bears, twoSidhe , and two of Clan Wolf. This is enough."

"One more." The Bard stepped forward. "The song was given to me. I should be the one to sing it."

"Aye. We are nine, then. So be it."

General Tranorva took command now. "Twill take but a day to move the army to the pa.s.s of St.Gregory. The Sentinels of Elahandara will see us coming for miles. They will be focused on us. We will move slowly, marching as men once we are within range. We are strong, but we are not strong enough totake on all of Elahandara. We will not engage the enemy until tomorrow's dawn. I will attempt a peaceful surrender, claiming my right as their Queen. If I fail we will fight all who come forth from the mountain, holding the pa.s.s as long as we can before we fall back, luring their forces out onto the plains beyond Yarishet. Once ye free the slaves, take them to the monastery of the Dwarves at the south end of theElandra Mountains to be cared for. We will reform our line at the foot of the Monastery."

Braunnan stepped forward, her voice strong and self a.s.sured. "The slaves who work the mines ofElahandara are not prisoners, wasting away, waiting to be rescued from some forgotten dungeon. Clan Bear will fight."

Tranorva's brow raised in surprise. "We were led to believe the prisoners were in ill health, many dying."

Takuri had the grace to blush as she spoke up. "Forgive me. I did not make myself clear. 'Tis their spirits that die, M'Lady, not their bodies. Many have given up believing in life beyond slavery. For them the above ground and the sunlight are myths, stories told by the old ones for the amus.e.m.e.nt of the children. I have tried to reach them through the dreaming, to keep the memories alive. Thanks to Shammall I have had the power to gift them with one last dream. Many will be ready, awaiting your rescue. Still, some will cling to what they have always known, believing the lies till the end. I fear you can only save those who will save themselves."

"My people will be ready," Braunnan affirmed once again. "When they see that we have gone above, and returned, they will believe. We are seasoned miners, strong and well trained. Those from below will need time to adjust their eyes to the sunlight, but by the time we reach the Monastery you speak of we will be an army, not a wandering rabble of refugees. We will form the mortar against which you maygrind the Elandra army to pieces."

"Very well. We will meet your army at the foot of the Elandras as the sun sets tomorrow."

She was to take her party in, then back out again, through tunnels that Balthain had expected to need at least two days to traverse, with an army to lead, in less than half that time? Ayailla looked to Balthain.

"We have a found a way to travel the tunnels quickly, M'Lady." Balthain grinned at her as he shifted, not to the Grizzly she'd come to recognize, but to a smallish brown bear, a miniature of his former self. She couldn't help herself. She covered her mouth with her hand, but the laughter leaked out.

Roahr VinDall made no attempt to hide his own great roar of laughter. His laughter turned into the song of a grizzled brown bear as he shifted smoothly to a form less than a third his usual size. The two males stood on their hind feet, pawing the air, reaching deadly claws into the morning sky. Braunnan and Cullaelon showed doubt on their faces, and managed but a small grizzly the first try, but by the second shifting they had achieved the new compact form as well.

Yes. Yes, this would work. The casters could maintain this form as an illusion. They could traverse the tunnels without pausing to duck or hunt for their way, their senses sharpened and their feet swift and sure on the rocks. Now all they had to do was figure out how to get Clan Bear out as quickly.

Ayailla turned to her daughter, the only child she'd ever given birth to, wrapping her arms around Evalayna in a brief hug. "I will see that thy Warrior returns to ye safely. Ye have done well. I love you,Evalayna." She turned away, her gesture including all her grandchildren. "Beware, Elahandara! The Northlanders unite! Thy day has come!"

The cheer taken up by those close enough to hear spread across the docks, a powerful wave of pent up aggression ready to be loosed. Tranorva turned, leading her party through the crowd that parted for her, her battle axe raised high over her head. Ayailla held back, holding her party at the tail end of the marching army. Already too many knew of their plans. This was a mission best accomplished without theaide of banners and signposts. If the attention of the Elandra wavered...

It would not. There was a prophecy to be fulfilled.

Chapter Six.

In a quiet town, on a peaceful evening, a party of nine such adventurers would have attracted a great deal of attention. Roahr. Balthain. Donovan. Cullaelon. Braunnan. Five of Clan Bear's finest, well over six and a half feet tall each, weighing near eighteen stone each, bristling with weapons. Takuri and Shammall. Tall enough to dwarf the Humans, but overshadowed by the ma.s.sive Clan Bear, yet still they stood out, fair and pale where the others were dark. These two shimmered with power barely concealed beneath their veil of humanity. Tyrell. Taller by half a head than the rest, long black hair streaked lightly with silver, he had inherited more of his mother's looks than his father's. There was little of Roahr to be seen in the man. Still he had his father's eyes. Deadly. Determined.

Ayailla herself might not have attracted too much attention. Smaller than most in this land of giants, she walked now bent over her walking stick, as much a contrivance as a necessity. Still, she had not been born to this land where only the strong survived and a woman might expect to live past her hundred and thirtieth birthday. This body was feeling its age.

Yes, in any other place and time the nine would have been noticed, an exotic and deadly mix. However with a small army ama.s.sed on the wharfs, they managed to blend into the crowd. 'Twas an easy enough thing to march with the others to the edge of town, past the Golden Eagle Gentlemen's club, and then fade away from the main body of the army.

Balthain led them now, led them into the inn he had once frequented, stopping at the long bar to buy them all a mug of ale, chatting familiarly with the barkeep. Ayailla noted Donovan bristling at the attention the pretty young barkeep paid the Mercenary. They were barely out the back of the building and slinking along an alley that seemed to lead nowhere before Donovan voiced the question they could all see on his face. "Have you an interest in her, Balthain?"

Balthain smiled, though his eyes narrowed. "Giselle? Naturally."

"Is not Takuri enough for you?"

Balthain turned to face the smaller man, crossing his thick forearms over his chest. "Exactly what is your interest in my daughter, Bard?"

Donovan paled. "Daughter?"

"Aye. Can you not see the family resemblance?"

Donovan looked the huge Mercenary over carefully, lending a dramatic effect to his answer. "Thank the G.o.ds, no."

Balthain tried to look fierce, but the look crumbled as laughter won over. He clamped a hand on the Bard's shoulder, lending a look of camaraderie to the group as they slipped out of town.

Ayailla lost track of the conversation as they reached the sh.o.r.eline, remembering a beach she'd wandered long ago. She'd dreamed of a handsome Warrior that night, who waited for her in the shadows. Soon she would find him again.Wait for me, Roanen. Wherever you are, wait for me.

"We will travel for many miles underground through the storm drains, sometimes through brackish water waist high. A sudden storm in the mountains could sweep us away at any time. The sewage tunnels themselves are smaller, and foul, putrid with the smell of death and decay. And the tunnels are not empty. Dark things live there. Twisted things that belong to the perpetual night of the tunnels."

Well, she couldn't say Balthain hadn't warned them. Ayailla's lips curled in disgust as she fought to keep her bear's head above the water. Fortunately when she'd shifted she'd pictured a young, powerful bear, ready to take on the dangers before them. Still, she didn't much care for the swimming part.

They didn't talk. Not that the bears couldn't communicate well enough, even those who but borrowed the forms. But they were too intent on their progress. Shammall led now, setting a steady pace through the maze of tunnels, stopping only occasionally to test the air with his nose. If he felt any uncertainty over his choices, he did not allow it to show. Ayailla had placed a gentle charm over the party to protect them from attack, but it hardly seemed necessary. She'd felt no presence in the tunnels other than theirs. True, the tunnels were foul enough, but they hardly seemed deadly.

Which, of course, was precisely the wrong thought to think. As if she'd invoked the attack, the dark things sprang at them, almost the moment the nine dripping bears waded out of the water and into the smaller, dryer tunnel.

Small shrieks, like high pitched whines, were the only warning they had as the foul things bounced off her shield. Whatever the attackers expected, were they even capable of thought, it could not have been that the s.h.a.ggy, foul smelling things before them would turn out to be veteran Warriors.

Instinct and training took over. The party formed a phalanx, the Warriors taking the first line of defense, their teeth and claws at the ready. Within their perimeter the four magic users shed their Bear forms.

She'd never fought anything like this. It was like being attacked by the shadows. Ayailla reached for the first thought that came to her mind. Light. They needed light. The tunnel shaft began to glow as if the rock itself were luminescent.

Perhaps seeing what attacked them was not such a good idea. Large hairy bodies on spindly legs shuffled back a bit, their glittering eyes mirroring the glare of her light. Fangs dripping with venom clicked together as the attackers regrouped. Those of Clan Bear did not appear daunted by the sight of the giant spiders. Where Ayailla hesitated, the Warriors charged, their anger radiating as they ripped and sliced at the furry arachnids.

Evidently the Bears had some old scores to settle. The humor of the situation caught up with Ayailla as the Warriors attacked. She began to hum the tune to an old song, flinging fireb.a.l.l.s over the heads of the bears, watching the spiders scatter.

Ain't no sound but the sound of his feet, machine guns ready to go. Are you ready, are you ready for this? Are you hanging on the edge of your seat?

"Ha! Take that, d.a.m.n ye!" Three giant spiders went up in flames.

Another one bites the dust. And another one gone, and another one gone. Another one bites the dust."Are you happy, are you satisfied? How long can you stand the heat? And another one gone, and another one gone!"

"Grandmother? Are ye all right?"

The last of her song still echoed off the rock walls. Tyrell hunched beside her, his tall frame looking silly jammed in the small tunnel.

Oops. Ayailla laughed as the last of the spiders disappeared. "Queen's a bit before thy time, Tyrell, but I think ye would have liked them."

"What are you making, Sandish?

Sandish kept his eyes focused on his work, knowing better than to look up. Zanya was on the prowl again. He could smell her, already ripening. She'd be ready to mate soon enough. Well, he wasn't interested. Not this time. No matter how hard his c.o.c.k twitched at the scent of her. "A tool."

"It doesn't look like a mining tool. What it is for?"

"'Tis a special punch, used to break rivets."

Had she cared enough to ask, he might have been fool enough to tell her what rivets, but Zanya did not ask. He had not expected her to. Her hand slid to his arm, headed straight for his crotch, he was sure. He swung the hammer again, making this strike harder than it needed to be. The reverberation echoed throughout the cavern. Zanya pulled back, fright flickering across her face for a quick moment.

She recovered all too quickly, her fear turning to predatory l.u.s.t as she watched the muscles flex against his soot-darkened skin. He could read her like a template. Understood what she was thinking before she had puzzled the thoughts out for herself. He curled his upper lips in disgust. "I'm not interested, Zanya. Take what you're selling elsewhere."

Innocent protest lit her face. "I'm not selling anything! What would I have to sell? I came only to speak to you, Sandish. Is there offense in merely speaking to you?"

"Do not try your games with me, Zanya. Do you think me a fool, to be led about by the c.o.c.k? I have no wish to fertilize your womb. Find yourself another sperm donor."

"You know the rules, Sandish. We are ordered by the Council to take every means possible to ensure the delivery of new cubs. Four of your last six matings have produced live cubs. I wish only to do my civic duty to the Clan."

His nostrils flared as he looked down at her, his hammer paused in mid swing. "'Tis the quality of the cubs that concerns me, Zanya, not the quant.i.ty."

"Am I not attractive to you? Men praise my beauty."

"You are quite beautiful, Zanya. You know that. That does not make me attracted to you."

Uh-oh. He'd clearly exceeded her capacity for understanding. Her face screwed up in a parody of a frown, as though she wished to avoid wrinkling her brow prematurely. "I thought this was what a man desired in a mate."