DragonCrown Saga - The Grand Crusade Part 32

Predator whirled to face the speaker. "But... You're dead!"

"Not really; I just feel like it." Resolute, sodden from his swim to the ship and climb up the tiller, caught Predator in the side of the head with a punch. The blow knocked the smaller Vorquelf into the ship's wheel, where his arms caught and he hung limply. Resolute shook his hand out, then rubbed at it. After a moment he looked out over the knot of Grey Misters.

"We're going to Vorquellyn. Now let's get moving."

"Wait." Oracle took a step forward. "Before we go, we have to offer gifts to Tagothcha to guarantee safe pa.s.sage."

Resolute nodded. "I'll toss him Predator."

"Gifts, Resolute, not something you don't want."

The silver-eyed Vorquelf shrugged. "The gibberers left me little save Syverce. I really have nothing to offer."

"I do." Kerrigan shucked his pack and rooted around in it. He withdrew a slender cloth-wrapped cylinder. He undid the ties, then peeled the cloth from a long, slender crystal with gold collars on each end. The collars had been set with various gemstones. Several of the Grey Misters gasped when they saw it, and greed lit their faces. "I'll give him this."

Resolute shook his head. "That's too valuable."

"Which makes it even more appropriate. I got this from the urZrethi to reward me for helping them do something important. That's what we want Tagothcha to do, so this is fitting."

Holding it before him, he walked to the prow. Tagothcha, theweirunof the Crescent Sea, had a reputation for being notoriously capricious and even malevolent. Fishermen and traders regularly offered him gifts of wine or gold before setting out on a journey in hope the sea would be kind to them. While the mages of Vilwan tended to be dismissive of the G.o.ds, even they offered gifts to appease Tagothcha before sailing.

Kerrigan smiled. "Tagothcha, this is a treasure carried from the heart of Bokagul to you. Please grant us safe pa.s.sage in our journey." He pulled his hand back, then threw the wand out into the darkness and heard it splash.

After him, one by one, the Grey Misters made their own offerings. None of them had anything to equal the wand, but coins, a ring or two, several knives, and a dozen gibberer pelts all sank beneath the waves.

Resolute carved Elvish words on a wooden plate he'd taken from below and sailed that out into the night.

Kerrigan looked at him with an upraised eyebrow. "What did you offer?"

"Dozens of gibberers driven into his arms."

Trawyn likewise inscribed a plate and flung it into the night. "There are wards at Rellaence Bay that bar his entry. I will have them removed."

Qwc, who had flown to the ship after Predator had been dealt with, landed on the masthead and raised his spear over his head. "Yours. Qwc is done with it." The silver spear spun out and sank beneath the waves with a tiny splash.

By far the most curious of the gifts was the one offered by Oracle. She lowered a bucket on a rope and brought it up full of water. She sank her face into it and spoke-or so Kerrigan a.s.sumed, since the water bubbled-then poured the water back into the sea. She wiped her face on a sleeve, but refused to say much about what she had offered. "A vision of the future, nothing more."

Resolute watched for a moment, then nodded. "I believe, then, we are ready to go. To the oars."

The Grey Misters moved to comply with his order. Resolute, Bok, and Kerrigan brought the anchor up while Trawyn stepped over Predator and took hold of the wheel.

Resolute pointed at a star winking above the horizon. "Steer by Plenariath and soon enough we'll be home."

I thought I was never to see you again." Sayce's comment, voiced in little more than a whisper, sank like a knife into Isaura's heart. The first time she'd spoken to the woman had been less than two weeks before, and Isaura had brought her food every day. They'd conversed a little and Sayce had become a bit emboldened and even feisty. It was an aspect of people Isaura had not seen before, and she had come to enjoy it.

Then, barely a half week past, her mother fell into a towering rage. Isaura didn't know what to do.

Ferxigo had told her to be available to her mother constantly while thesullanciriheaded south to deal with Aurolan's defenses. While nothing was said, Isaura felt there must have been some sort of reversal in the south. Her mother had not been nearly as upset when Okrannel had been lost, so this was clearly something that had not been expected.

Isaura had not been able to visit Sayce. Hlucri had seen to it that the Murosan got her food and had enough in the way of blankets to keep her warm, but for the last six days, Sayce's shackles had not been loosed, nor had she been allowed to leave her cell, even fettered.

Isaura slipped an arm around Sayce's shoulders and could feel the woman shivering beneath the drearbeast cloak. "I wanted to come, but my mother needed me."

Sayce, walking along beside Isaura through the castle corridors, kept her voice small. "Something happened, didn't it?"

Isaura nodded. She had pieced things together from her mother's mutter-ings, of which she heard far too much. Her mother spent most of her time in the highest reaches of the palace working at spells, or deep in the bowels of the earth visiting the Oromise. Isaura had accompanied her on one trip down there, and spent hours listening to her mother in herarcanorium.

i Neither experience made her feel good, and both made her wonder after her mother's sanity.

Isaura knew she should not tell Sayce anything about the war, and especially nothing that would suggest difficulty with the Aurolani effort. It would be cruel to give the woman false hope. A momentary setback would not stop her mother's march to victory. Isaura did not doubt the final outcome of the war, but she also could not bring herself to crush Sayce's spirit, especially when the woman already felt abandoned and alone.

Much as I do these days.

Isaura kept her voice low, though she knew Hlucri could hear her despite his remaining at a discreet distance behind them. "One of my mother'ssullanciridied. About the same time anothersullancirihad her army mauled in Saporicia. That army has fallen back and will join with Nefrai-kesh's forces in Muroso."

Sayce stiffened at the mention of her home.

"I'm sorry."

"Actually you are not, Isaura, but I know that. I don't mind." The smaller woman turned her head, offering Isaura half a smile from within a furred hood. "I would tell you that I'm sorry your mother lost a sullanciri, but I am not. Was that Dark Lancer a friend of yours?"

What was she to me? Myrall'mara had always kept herself apart, even more than the othersullanciri, save perhaps for the dead ones. They offered nothing in the way of conversation or intellectual engagement at all. But Myrall'mara had always been melancholy around her and avoided her as much as possible. Isaura had returned the favor, and while she would have thought that would have been something thesullanciriwanted, Isaura's withdrawal seemed to cause Myrall'mara more pain, not less.

"Myrall'mara was someone I had known, but not well. None of my mother'ssullanciri, except Hlucri, were exactly what you would call friendly. Though Nefrai-kesh is always nice to me and brings me things." Isaura slipped a glove off her hand and showed the sapphire ring he'd brought from Oriosa. "He gave me this. He said the Oriosan Queen wanted me to have it."

Sayce shivered again. "You know he murdered her, don't you?"

"I don't..."

"Twisted her head off and put it in the hands of her son, Scrainwood." The Murosan nodded toward the ring. "He must have taken that from her corpse and presented it to you. Must have cleaned it first, though."

Isaura looked closely at the ring, seeking any tiny fleck of blood. She knew it was impossible that there would be any, but still she could almost feel blood flowing from beneath the stone and washing over her hand in a warm, sticky coat.He couldn't have, could he?

"You must be mistaken. He was quite clear about her intent."

Sayce sighed. "You surprise me."

"How so?"

"You are Chytrine's heir. You command many people here, and yet you are so naive. Why would she offer you the ring when no one knew you existed? Had anyone known Chytrine had an heir, and that gifts offered might curry favor, there would be miles of caravans waiting to enrich you beyond all knowing.

And why, if she did offer you the ring, would he murder her?"

"How do you know he did?"

"There are witnesses and he is asullanciri. Either explanation suffices."

The dull finality in Sayce's reply sent a shiver crawling down Isaura's spine. She peered at the ring even more closely and thought about using a spell to see if there were impressions left on the ring by the queen's death. She could have cast it and learned, once and for all, if Sayce told the truth, but she already knew what the outcome of that casting would be.

She quickly pried the tainted ring off her finger and tossed it to Hlucri.

Thesullanciricaught it, sniffed, then let it hang from a talon.

"When we get outside, throw it as far away as you can."

Hlucri nodded silently.

"We're going outside?"

"Yes. You can't outrun Hlucri." Isaura turned left and made quickly for a doorway that led into the ice garden. When Neskartu still instructed students from the south in the ways of Aurolani magick, they used to come to the garden and practice spells that would grow marvelous things from a seed of enchanted ice. Neskartu was dead, and most of his students were as well-with most of the survivors in the south already fighting. The garden would have fallen to ruin save for Isaura's work and Drolda's careful tending.

Sayce gasped as she saw the garden. Plants, complete with flowers, and creatures of incredible delicacy, had been grown from ice. Gla.s.sine trees had leaves that swayed in unfelt breezes, and birds had individually rendered feathers fletching them. Timid rabbits peered out from the base of ice bushes, and flowers pointed their crystal faces toward the sun-never having to move much in so northern a clime.

"Isaura, this is so beautiful." Sayce reached a gloved hand toward a flower, but held back from touching it. "I don't want to ruin anything."

Isaura grasped the flower for which she reached and snapped it off, then handed it to her. "You see, thereisbeauty in my nation."

Sayce took the proffered flower and slowly nodded her head. "I never thought there wasn't."

"You hate Aurolan."

"No, I don't. I hate what Aurolan is doing to my nation. I know your mother is making those things happen. I can understand people following her. That doesn't mean I don't think there is beauty here."

Sayce raised the flower to her nose and sniffed. "You have shown me the beauty of Aurolan."

Isaura frowned. "This is but one part of it."

The Murosan shook her head. "Not this, not the countryside, but the true beauty of it. Isaura, you could have left me to starve in the dungeons. You didn't have to bring me food.

You didn't have to befriend me. You did that because of something inside you. Chytrine may be your mother in one way or another, but you don't have her heart. You have a loving heart, agoodheart. You would be cherished anywhere, respected anywhere, accepted anywhere, and loved anywhere."

The redheaded woman's face came up. "Have you ever been in love?"

Isaura shook her head quickly. "No."

"Oh, Isaura." Sayce lowered the flower and began to walk deeper into the garden. "I have. It is beautiful. I loved-Ilove-Will Norrington."

"Why?"

"Why?" Sayce laughed lightly. "Hard to say, really. He wasn't what I expected him to be. You grow up hearing the Norrington Prophecy and you expect him to be this huge man with bulging muscles who could break a h.o.a.rgoun over his knee. That's what I thought I would find when I met him but... Well, you saw him when you healed him."

"He was nothing as you described him."

"No, he wasn't. I think that is how he got to me. Here he was, this little thief, but someone who could be kind and gentle. He made me laugh. He reminded me that kings and princes and lords and ladies were just people, too, and not always very good. In him I found a n.o.bility-a little tarnished, but n.o.bility nonetheless-that born n.o.bles seldom possess."

Sayce's eyes lit up. "You should have seen him with the Freemen, Isaura. These men of Oriosa came to pledge their fealty to him. They offered to spend their lives in his defense, and to further his cause. He accepted them and realized that he was responsible for them. He rewarded them for good acts and encouraged them. He made every one of them feel as if their lives were even more valuable than his, and that they were part and parcel of the Norrington Prophecy."

Isaura heard Sayce's words, but listened more closely to her tone. Will Norrington was dead, yet in speaking of him Sayce was happy. The memory made her proud. Just as Will Norrington had given of himself to the Freemen, he clearly had given to Sayce. Her love for him gave her strength despite his death.

That emotion was utterly foreign to her. She'd felt other emotions of similar intensity, but fear was the one she most commonly recalled. Fear of her mother's wrath. Fear of the Oromise. Both of them were very intense, and she had nothing positive to balance against them.

Even the affection Nefrai-kesh had shown her evaporated from her mind as Hlucri arced the ring out into the distance. It vanished from sight, and with it went Isaura's feeling of complacency. Aurolan used to feel right to her, but that was because it was the only place she had known. It was familiar, but it no longer fit as well in her life as it once had. She had been to the south. She had seen horrible things done in her mother's name. She once would have thought she could appeal to her mother to change things, but her mother groveled before the Oromise so obsequiously that Isaura wondered if her mother had ever been acting on her own or had always been a thrall to the creatures buried beneath the earth.

Isaura took Sayce by the shoulders and turned the smaller woman to face her. "I have to ask you something. Don't lie to me."

"I would never."

"Yes, you would. You see it as your duty. You want to escape for yourself and your child."

Sayce nodded. "I would lie, but not now, not to you right now."

"Is love why people in the south laugh?"

The Murosan smiled and raised a hand to caress Isaura's cheek. "Oh, love can make you laugh, and it can make you cry and be angry and overjoyed and quiet and loud, serious and gay. It can make you do almost anything."

"Does everyone in the south know love?"

"No, Isaura, they don't." Sayce's voice softened. "But love is something to which everyone aspires. We write songs and poems and plays and stories about it. We work out great strategies to attract the notice of someone we favor. We arrange parties and celebrations and holidays as an excuse to spend time with those we love. Most importantly, though, when we find that special person, we make a life with him. We make a future and fill it with babies and even more love."

Isaura pressed her lips together. A tear formed in her left eye and seared a track down her cheek.

"Oh, Isaura, what is it?"

Chytrine's daughter swallowed hard. "I love my mother. I love Aurolan. No one loves me."

"Someone will, Isaura, I know it."

"I know it, too." Isaura set her shoulders and exhaled slowly. "And that someone, I am certain, lives in the south. It is time, Sayce, that you and I go find him."

In the dawn's growing light, the battlefield looked different than it had in the twilight. The day before, as night fell, soldiers still stood and banners waved fiercely. There had been the clash of swords, the thunder of drums, and the endless keening of people in pain. Those sounds continued as night swallowed the b.l.o.o.d.y field, and the fighting drifted back toward the town of Merysval, but Alexia had not seen what had been left behind until dawn.

The battle itself had gone almost too easily. It paralleled very closely what she had related in her dreams to her aunt. Tythsai had retreated into Muroso and taken up a position around the village, then advanced into fallow fields to make a stand. The Aurolani had positioned themselves on an upslope, but they had been reduced to just under four thousand, with only nine hundred cavalry. The fields around Merysval were meant for cavalry, and once the Aurolani frostclaws had been eliminated, the rest of the army would be picked apart.

The sides met in a straightforward battle where infantry crashed into infantry and cavalry swept the edges, trying to turn a line. The Alcidese Iron Horse did manage to turn the Aurolani right wing, so Tythsai called a withdrawal toward the village. Alexia's entire army pivoted to the left and center forward, and, while she could not envelop the Aurolani before they reached the village, she did manage to surround it. Nothing would be leaving that hamlet.

Nothing had, save for a legion of cavalry surrounding Tythsai. Less than half of them broke through the cavalry ring and sped northeast along the Zamsina road. Alexia would have preferred for thesullancirito have died right there, but her departure meant that much quicker of a collapse for her forces.

Not that their destruction was ever in question.

The fighting in the town had taken place by the light of burning buildings. Alexia's forces had not fired the first of them, and when the larger buildings went up, the twinned scents of oil and burning flesh combined in a black fog that drifted through the streets. Alexia could not hear people in the burning buildings crying out for help, but some soldiers did.

Alexia hoped they were mistaken.

The Aurolani hid wherever they could in the town, forcing Alexia's people to go house to house. She relied on the Yslin Guards and Jeranese Palace Guards to fight in such close quarters. As they cleared sections of Merysval, lighter infantry came in to hold the territory.

Arimtara fought along with the Yslin Guards and had been incredible. She smelled out ambushes and managed to destroy the attackers before they had a chance to do much damage. She would plunge into a building armed with nothing more than her taloned hands and emerge shortly after, bathed in gore and ready to move on to the next site.

The draconetteers hurt the southern forces the worst. They chose buildings that had good commands of wide streets and shot at soldiers trying to approach. Because they waited until the last moment, their fusillades would cut down a half-dozen, then they sniped at anyone trying to help fallen comrades. A dozen of them could pin down a whole legion.