DragonCrown Saga - The Grand Crusade Part 21

"Excellent. Please continue."

The elf nodded, then raised her face in Chytrine's direction. "In light of the news from the south, do you wish more work to be done on opening thecoruesdat Saslynnae?"

"No. You will guard it, of course, but waste no more energy there. It has defied us for a long time, and will continue to do so."

Isaura raised a hand. "Mother, I am certain I could open it."

"Are you, child?"

She nodded. Though several years had pa.s.sed since the ritual that bound her to Vorquellyn, Isaura could still feel the connection to the island. When the binding had been successful, she had immediately been drawn toward thecoruesd. She'd had a sense of sanctuary, and that surprised her, since the place had long been described as a place of enemy power.

"It would yield to me, Mother."

"I am pleased to hear that, Isaura, and I do believe you, but I shall not risk you there. You are now truly the heir to my realm and my secrets, so to you falls the unenviable task of waiting here to fulfill my destiny, should the worst happen." Chytrine smiled. "Besides, child, our enemies are coming to open it for us. I should not deprive them of that honor."

Nefrai-kesh's frown registered on the Panqui-flesh mask. "Do you not treat the information too lightly, Mistress?"

"I think not. Oracle has said the Norrington waits in thecoruesd. They will have to get into thecoruesdto liberate him. That is the point at which they will be most vulnerable." As she spoke, Chytrine held her right hand out, palm up. As her fingers curled inward, they shifted into the scaled talons of a dragon.

"They will be dealt with brilliantly, I have no doubt, won't they, Quiarsca?"

Thesullancirinodded. "You need fear nothing, Empress."

"I fear nothing at all." The empress turned her head and looked finally past the undead warrior-woman Tythsai to Myrall'mara. "And you, my deadly beauty, to you goes the greatest honor."

The Vorquellynsullanciri'shead came up. "Yes, Mistress? I am given my release now?"

"You are." Chytrine's voice shrank. "How well I remember what you asked of me when I made you into one of my Dark Lancers. You desired only one thing, to avenge the slight done to me by Tarrant Hawkins, when he refused me. I told you then I would not release you to avenge me until the time was right. I deem that time now."

MyraH'mara's smile broadened and, for a heartbeat, Isaura caught a glimpse of pure beauty. It faded quickly enough, as a darkness hooded thesullanciri'sface, but Isaura forced herself to remember it.

Myrall'mara, who had always been cold and distant, just for that moment had seemed warm.

"It shall be done, Mistress. You will be proud."

"I already am, pet." Chytrine surveyed her generals. "They have gathered their courage and will strike.

We will lure them onward, then destroy them. Those who survive will know the glory of our true purpose. Those who do not will languish, quite rightly, in the obscurity of the deluded and foolish. Go forth and conquer. Be swift and ruthless, for in the pursuit of victory, there is no vice."

I would prefer it if Kerrigan would attend me." The mage's head came up as Oracle spoke. Banausic stood beside her horse, his arms raised, ready to help the blind Vorquelf from the saddle. He'd been her faithful servant throughout the journey, so why the change here at Otedo, Kerrigan couldn't imagine.

Kerrigan smiled. "I would be happy to help."

Oracle graced Banausic with a smile and waited patiently. The other Vorquelf glared at Kerrigan for a moment, then Resolute snapped at him, "Petulant glaring is notpractical. Go do some real work."

Kerrigan dismounted from his horse and grasped Oracle around her slender waist. He felt her hands on his shoulders as she slid from the saddle. She was much lighter than he would have imagined-which made him realize he'd really not thought much about her at all. He'd actually been a bit afraid of her and, while being cordial, had pretty much left her alone on the trip.

Aside from Qwc and Bok, he'd pretty much left everyone alone. Resolute had slowly sunk back into his usual sullenness. That was less than pleasant, but somehow more comforting than his smiles and laughter.

Kerrigan admired Resolute's ability to focus on the problem at hand, but to have done that day after day for over a century certainly boggled the mind.

The journey to Otedo had been largely uneventful. In a few places flooding had washed out the road, so the whole column had to pause while holes were filled in or bridges created. Kerrigan could have helped out with magick, but Resolute had expressly forbidden him from doing so. Bok concurred, so Kerrigan remained relatively idle-except when he took his turn digging or hauling like the others.

Resolute's reasoning had been sound. Chytrine knew Kerrigan was a power- ful mage. She had hoped her spell had killed him, but eventually she would learn that it had not. By restricting his use of magick, it would make it more difficult for other spies to recognize him and report his location. While Kerrigan didn't like the thought that Chytrine still had agents in the south, he accepted it as true and did as he was bid.

After ten days on the road, the column finally reached Otedo-though they had been able to smell it well before. TheVarasena Riverflowed into a vast, swampy delta that encompa.s.sed several navigable channels. Otedo was located where the river flowed into the delta, and while the river might have pushed the city's effluent toward the sea, it did so slowly. The locals claimed the swamps yielded lovely fish and crustaceans because of the fertilization, but Kerrigan wasn't sure he was going to find anything that had been swimming in nightsoil appetizing.

The city itself had once been Saporicia's capital, but the centuries had not been overly kind to Otedo.

Mildew covered cracked paint and plaster, and even the newest buildings suffered from severe weathering. Though it was still the district capital, the officials who had greeted them at the gate seemed more weary than proud, and accepted them into their city as a duty, not a privilege.

Troops were to be billeted in houses, apparently not a popular thing. Resolute's company, along with General Pandiculia, accepted an invitation to be housed in the Lord Mayor's palace. The building would have been big for a tavern, but was not much more impressive than one in terms of accommodations.

Still, it did come with servants to care for the horses and any other needs they had, which was welcome after a week on the road.

Oracle squeezed Kerrigan's shoulders with her hands. "Give me your arm, Kerrigan, and lead me within, please."

He complied, letting her grasp the inside of his right elbow. He moved carefully forward, letting her know about the steps up to the doorway, and ready to catch her if she stumbled.

The Vorquelf laughed. "I will not break, Kerrigan. I may be old by your reckoning, but I am no crone."

"No, of course not. I beg your pardon." Kerrigan was glad she couldn't see him blush. For a moment or two he wondered why he felt embarra.s.sed, then he realized it was because he had made a mistake.

Granted, he was being presented with a new situation, so he had a lot to learn, but he should have asked her what she desired instead of a.s.suming.

"Please, Mistress Oracle, where shall we go? Tell me how best I can serve you."

"My room will be up the stairs to the right, and down the hall, next to the last on the left."

"Let's get you there, then." Kerrigan nodded, then bunched the muscles in his forearm to let her know he was ready, and they forged on into the palace. To the left a short set of steps went down into a half-sunken room, and on the right stout wooden stairs led upward. They mounted the steps and ascended, then he took her down a narrow corridor to the room she had mentioned. Though small, it faced south and caught sunlight. It also had a view of a dense garden with a throng of spring green plants.

Oracle freed her hand from his arm and found the bed by feel. She turned and sat on it; the straw in the mattress scrunched loudly. "This will do for a night or two."

Kerrigan nodded, then blushed. "Yes, Mistress, it will."

She glanced at him with her sightless eyes. "You fear me, Kerrigan. Why is that?"

Her question surprised him, but he answered almost without thinking. "You see more than you tell."

Oracle nodded. "It is the nature of my gift to see many things. You have studied the clairvoyant arts on Vilwan. Did you not see many things?"

"Some, yes, but they did not want me delving into the future."

"Or were they afraid you might look into the past?"

A shiver ran down his spine. "It probably was that, yes. They wanted to hide my origins and my purpose from me."

She laughed lightly, almost a birdsong sound. "They did that, and in doing so did themselves a disservice.

Had they defined for you what your duty was, and told you of the glory you would win in acquitting it, you would still be under their control. They were afraid that if you were a weapon and knew it, you might develop the ability to think for yourself and rebel. Instead, they let you think for yourself, and you reject being a weapon."

Kerrigan sagged into a wooden chair beside the wall, and was a bit surprised when it did not creak as much as he expected. "I'm not a weapon. I'm not a killer. I mean, people and things have died because of what I have done, but..."

"... but you are not like Resolute."

"No." Kerrigan hunched forward, his hands clasped, his elbows on his knees. "Resolute is so... intense, but around you... I think that's another reason I fear you. Because Resolute fears you."

She laughed again, and clapped her hands. "Resolute, afraid of me? Oh, you are an innocent delight. My dear Kerrigan, Resolute is no more afraid of me than you are of Qwc."

"But the way he acts around you is different..."

"Of course it is. A long time ago, when Vorquellyn fell, the three of us escaped together. I was the eldest, by a handful of years, then my sister and Resolute, both of the same age. He is my cousin, and he was young and even less well prepared for life off our island than you were when you first left Vilwan."

"That's not possible."

"Oh, but it is. Resolute was a dreamy youth. He loved reading tales of legend. He used to write poetry.

He won prizes for it, and had even composed a poem as a gift for me, since it was coming time for me to be bound to Vorquellyn. He worked very hard on it, but would not read it to me before it was time."

"Resolute?Poetry?"

"Resolute was thought by many to be a most frivolous youth. He would spend days and days out in the hills pretending he was Raisasel or some other great elven hero, slaying dragons or rescuing maidens. At times he even talked my sister and me into playing along, which we did happily."

"Your sister? Where is she?"

Oracle lowered her head. "She is now thesullanciriknown as Myrall'mara."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"As am I." She looked up again and a tear rolled down her cheek. "There are times I see things I cannot speak of. Where we are now was one of those things. I saw it many years ago, and knew that for it to come true, she would be turned. If I warned her, I would kill this future, and thereby destroy the world's salvation."

Kerrigan shivered. Oracle's gift had demanded great responsibility. He'd failed to save others from death, but she'd had the harder task. She had to hold back, letting them die-or worse-so the best possible future could unfold.If it can be done.

"Do you see similar ruin for me?"

"I've seen you asking me that question, all the while knowing I could not reply to it whether I had the answer or not." She shifted on the bed, drawing her right knee up and wrapping her arms around herself.

"What I can tell you, Kerrigan, is that your journey is far from over. You have changed much, physically and mentally. You have learned much, but you are still young."

She tapped her own chest with a hand. "In here, Kerrigan, in your heart, you are still a child. And that is a wonderful thing in so many ways. Your innocence shields you. Resolute was that innocent once and, deep down inside, the child he once was still lurks."

"I've seen bad things, but he must have seen worse."

"Sometimes it is not what you see, but the vantage point from which you see it." A rueful smile twisted her lips. "Resolute dreamed of heroes. He accepted the mythic tales as truth, but you can imagine how they differ in the telling from the reality. Your own adventures will one day be the same, of course, but you already know the reality. For Resolute, what was all glory, duty, and honor became fire, blood, horror, and pain. That which he had held to be true and beautiful was turned into a falsehood that mocked him."

Kerrigan frowned heavily. "So he has gone all the way in the other direction?"

"Not entirely. He still hopes. The part of him that revered the romance of the past was what allowed him to look for the Norrington. It tells him we will find the Norrington on Vorquellyn, and that we will free him. If he was hard on Will-and hard on you or Banausic-it is because he wants andneedsto have his original vision proven true."

"And that's why he's hard on the Aurolani, too?"

Oracle smiled. "No. He just likes killing them." Then she looked at him openly, almost as if her eyes were sighted. "He has done much to put you and the Nomngton in a position to destroy Chytrine and redeem Vorquellyn, but you will not be required to goas faras he did. I know it scares you, to imagine yOur. self slaying as he does.&'

"Is that something you see?"

Oracle shook her head. "No, just something I feel. But true, for all that" The youth looked down at his hands. "I won't let myself do that, you know. I cun't.

"It would be a dark course that led you to that place, Kerrigan. It is not a broad path, and the entrance to it is distant."

His head came up. "But it still looms in the future?"

"It does."

"Well, Iguess I'll have to watch my step." He set his shoulders and exhaled sharply. Vilwan is afraid I might be another Kirun, but no oneisnearly as afraid of it as I am."y "Be careful, Kerrigan. It will be fear that leads you to that path." She slowly smiled at him. "But your heart, though young, is strong and good. Use its strength to overcome your fear, and you will never need to know that darkest of futures.

Raindrops pattered over the hood of Erlestoke's oilskin cloak like distant, arrhythmic drumbeats. His horse shook its head, flicking water off, and glanced back, as if wondering why his master would choose to pause there. The rain wasn't heavy but the day was cool, and heat leeched away as they stood there.

The prince ran his hand over his face. After Alexia left the capital, his force had departed Narriz and traveled slowly toward Oriosa. He hadn't known what to expect, so he didn't push his people hard. He wanted them rested and, that morning, had ordered them to see to their weapons and armor, just in case the border was closed.

Because he didn't know how his father would react, he had sent scouts ahead, and most had returned with benign reports. They'd penetrated to the outskirts of Meredo, reconnoitered the nearby villages, and two had chosen to go into the capital itself. Those were the two who had not returned.

Those were also the two now dangling from a leafless oak at the border. A man and a woman, they'd been bound hand and foot, then hanged. White lace courtesy masks had been tied around their eyes, providing a sharp contrast with the grey of their flesh.

Erlestoke turned in the saddle and looked at Dranae. "There are those who say Oriosans always look for too much symbolism in things, but I think there is no mistaking the message here. They were executed as spies, with the masks granted to honor their courage. We are not wanted; we are invaders."

The big man smiled. "You knew this is how we would be seen. Did you really have hopes your father would change in the week we've taken to get here?"

"Not hope. I just wished it would be so." He pointed at two scouts and then at the corpses. "Cut them down. Organize a burial detail."

The scouts advanced as ordered. Further along the road, where the meadow through which they had pa.s.sed began to shift into hills forested with evergreens, a small group of riders was coming toward them.

The party consisted of a half-dozen of the Meredo Guards and two others-one a youth, and the other a man Erlestoke recognized.

Holding up his hand to restrain his troops, Erlestoke rode forward. Dranae, Rounce, Nay, Borell, and Rumbellow advanced behind him, but kept a respectful distance from those approaching. The Gyrkyme, Preyknosery, circled lazily overhead. Erlestoke did note, with pleasure, that two squads of scouts moved out to either side of the hanging tree, ostensibly to honor the dead, but also within a range where they could cut down those approaching with a flight of arrows.

There is, after all, no flag of truce showing.

The Oriosan party reined up short of the border. Their horses stamped, and some lowered their heads to nibble at the bold tendrils of gra.s.s poking up through the thin snow. The guards, with green pennants hanging from their lances, remained watchful, but made no threatening motions. The older man spurred his horse forward, then glanced back and, with a curt nod, beckoned the youth to accompany him.

Erlestoke flipped back his hood. "Cabot Marsham, how unexpected to find you out in weather like this.

Then again, wet and cold so suits a worm like you." His father's aide curled his lips in a sneer. "Denigrate me all you wish, Erlestoke, for a true Oriosan will take your insults as high praise."

"Erlestoke?" The prince's eyes hardened. "You are becoming far too familiar for your own good. Have you forgotten who I am?"

"A freebooter, no more. And no more a true Oriosan." Marsham reached beneath his own cloak and produced a packet wrapped in oilskin and tossed it on the ground. "There, your father has issued an edict that disinherits you and your worthless brother. He has taken Lady Norrington for a wife and has proclaimed her sons to be his rightful heirs. Bow before Prince Redgrave."