Book 4: Chapter Twenty-Two

“What do we have so far?” Corec asked Boktar. They were behind the wheelwright’s shop, watching the activity in the wagon yard as Nedley demonstrated how to cock and load a heavy crossbow to eight of the men they’d managed to recruit. Five others were already loosing bolts at targets, after professing to having experience with the weapon.

“It’s a mix,” the stoneborn man said. “There are three mercenaries and two former soldiers. Those are the only ones with any real training. We’ve got a retired caravan guard who’s too old to do any fighting, and two of the town’s guardsmen—neither of whom has done anything more than break up a drunken brawl. The rest of these fellows showed up looking for any sort of job they can get, but they’ve never held a weapon before. You told me you’d be training everyone on the siege equipment, so I haven’t sent them away yet.”

Corec sighed. It was what he’d expected, but not what he’d hoped for. “We’ll need plenty of men for the ballistae and catapults, so go ahead and pay that last group for training until we see if we can use them. I figure everyone will be new to the siege weapons, so they won’t be too out of place. Only five real fighters?”

“We just started signing recruits yesterday. More will come.”

Corec nodded. “Take the best of them and turn them into infantry, but give everyone the same training. If someone on the siege weapons gets injured, someone else will have to take over for him. Stick to crossbows this morning, and the pikes will start arriving this afternoon. I asked for a mix of twelve-foot and fifteen-foot shafts.” Corec had found a batch of fortisteel pike heads in Tir Yadar, but he’d left the rotting wooden shafts behind. Two woodworkers were crafting replacements for him now.

“No other weapons?” Boktar asked. “Just pikes and crossbows?”

“There’s not much else that would be useful against a dragon. We could buy a few heavy warhammers as a last resort, and I suppose the infantry should carry staff-spears in case they don’t have time to grab their pikes from the wagons, but really, even the pikes won’t come into play until we manage to get the dragon down on the ground. The siege weapons have to be our focus. The knights—some of them, at least—will be here tomorrow to start training everyone on those.”

Boktar nodded. “What about armor?”

“Mail, cuirasses, and tower shields for the infantry. Same for the knights if they want them. Whatever’s left can go to the siege crews. There’s not enough for everyone, but I’ll get more of those armored coats made. Those are better than brigandine, as long as you’ve got some padding underneath.”

“Shields and pikes for the infantry?” Boktar asked. A pike was long and heavy enough that it could only be wielded with two hands.

“Shields for all of them, in case they need to shield the weapon crews. In formation, some may have to drop their shields to carry pikes, but silversteel’s lighter than a normal shield. In a stationary defense, they might be able to hold both as long as they keep the pike braced against the ground. We’ll have to see how it works.”

“Corec?” Ariadne said, coming out the back door of the shop. “This man says he knows you.”

The bulky fellow that followed her out looked familiar, but Corec couldn’t place him until he noticed the black brigandine armor. “I forget the name,” he said to the former red-eye, one of the men who’d attacked Jol’s Brook.

“Cenric,” the man replied. “People in town said it was you going after the dragon, so I came to see. They say you’re recruiting.”

“I would have figured you’d want to avoid us,” Corec said.

Cenric shrugged, staring back expressionlessly. “That priestess of yours saved me.”

Corec nodded. “You made it back out of Larso safely, then? No problems?” Treya had been worried about the former red-eyes getting too close to the voice that had been controlling them.

“Only went as far as Highfell. Got my wife and sister, and we came to Four Roads and found a little spot for a farm up north. Broke sod and got a few potatoes in, and built a log cabin over the summer. It’s not much, but it’s all I have. I don’t want to lose it to the dragon.”

“You were a sergeant,” Corec said. “You could have found work as an armsman somewhere.”

A haunted look crossed the man’s face. “Never again. Not after what we did to those people.”

“Are you sure you want to sign on? I don’t think the dragon will make it north of town. You should be safe where you’re at.” Corec needed men with experience, but Cenric didn’t seem to have recovered from his time as a red-eye.

“I need the work. Half a field of potatoes isn’t going to pay for wheat and corn seed for the spring planting. I’ll do what I can to help with the dragon; I just don’t want to have to kill anyone ever again.”

“I don’t plan to,” Corec said. Not with these troops, at least, though perhaps he could recruit some of the better ones afterward. “Boktar will get you set up.”

Boktar and Cenric exchanged solemn nods. The two men had worked together on the funeral pyres at Jol’s Brook.

“Let’s go take a look at the crossbows,” Boktar said.

As they moved off, Ariadne came to stand next to Corec.

“This place, Four Roads, it’s your home?” she asked.

“I live here sometimes, but I’m from Larso.”

“The land your enemy rules over?”

“Yes.”

“And these Knights of Pallisur, they’re from Larso. You were one of them once, but no longer?”

“They kicked me out when when they found out I was a mage, back when I was still a trainee. We may have some problems with them over that.”

Ariadne shook her head. “Humans still fight amongst themselves. They’ve taken our place in the world, but they still act like the primitive tribes they were when I knew them.”

“People always fight, sometimes for good reason.”

She was quiet for a moment. “It used to be easier,” she said finally. “There were the Chosar, and then there was everyone else. I swore to protect my people, but what happens if I can’t find them? Everything is so different now. How do I know who deserves help and who doesn’t?”

That was a strange question, but her puzzlement sounded sincere.

“I don’t think there are any real rules,” Corec said. “If you come across someone that needs help, they probably deserve it. If not, well, you just deal with that when the time comes.”

#

“Matagor, eh?” said the South Corner pigeon keeper, a man named Lon. “That’ll be thirty-five silver.” Pigeon post was expensive, since the birds had to be carted back after a single flight. “Who’s it going to?”

“Duke Lorvis,” Leena replied.

There were no outgoing pigeons left in Four Roads, and with the dragon approaching, it wasn’t safe to ask a messenger to go south. Ellerie wanted to send messages to Matagor and Terevas, but Leena had never been to either place. She had been to South Corner, though, which was close to both kingdoms.

The town was in the free lands, but far enough from the dragon’s keep that no one seemed worried. Leena hadn’t seen any refugees either, which suggested the dragon was focusing its attention to the north.

Lon raised his eyebrows. “The duke of the city? What makes you think he’ll read it?”

“It’s from an old acquaintance of his.”

“Well, I can send the message, but I can’t promise it’ll get to him. My pigeons don’t go to the duke’s palace, just to another aviary in the city. The keeper there will have to take it to the palace and leave it with the duke’s people.”

“I understand,” Leena said. If this didn’t work, she’d have to try Traveling to a place she’d never been to. She’d done it before, mostly by accident, but she hadn’t mastered the skill yet.

“One pigeon for Matagor, then. And the second message?”

“It’s for Queen Revana of Terevas.”

Lon barked a laugh. “The elf queen? Good luck with that one. I don’t have any pigeons that home in Terevas.”

“Is there some other way to get a message there?”

“You can try sending it to the fellow I know in Matagor, and see if he has a pigeon for Terevas, or you can hire a courier. My son’s always looking for work, and he’s got a fast horse. Not been to visit the elves too often, though.”

“I’ll hire your son, if he’s willing. How much?”

“Well, for Terevas, you see, there won’t be any work on the return trip, so you have to pay both coming and going.” Lon turned to a map hanging on the wall behind him and measured out the distance. “Let’s call it two gold.”

Leena winced. She’d brought plenty of coin, but she suspected the man was overcharging her. “One and a half now,” she said. “The rest when he returns—unless they’ve already paid him more than that to send a reply. I’ll check back in … is four weeks enough time?”

The pigeon keeper chewed the inside of his lip as he considered it. “Aye, that’ll do.”

Her coin purse lightened, Leena left the pigeon post aviary and ducked between two buildings, out of sight. She had one more stop to make before returning to Four Roads. With a moment’s thought, she was in Aencyr, standing on the neatly trimmed lawn in front of Hildra’s manor house. It was late in the day here, and the sun was low on the horizon.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

She’d been to Hildra’s home twice before, taking messages for Ellerie, and the majordomo allowed her in to see the dwarven woman without a problem. Leena quickly explained the purpose of her visit.

Hildra’s eyebrows went up. “Weapons to fight dragons?”

“Ellerie thought you might know of something.”

The stocky woman shook her head. “I don’t have anything like that. Why does she want to fight a dragon?”

“It’s been killing people and driving them from their homes. Corec decided someone had to deal with it.”

“Cordaea rarely sees dragons, so I can’t help with that … but since you’re here, I do have something you can take back with you.”

#

Ten minutes later, Leena was back at the wheelwright’s shop in Four Roads with two bulky, heavy canvas bags slung over her shoulders. She deposited them on the floor.

Ellerie and Corec looked up from the paperwork they were poring over.

“Hildra had something we could use?” Ellerie asked, eyeing the bags.

“Hildra?” Corec said. “You went to Cordaea?”

Ellerie said, “I was hoping Hildra would have some sort of weapon for fighting a dragon.”

“She didn’t,” Leena said. “This is the armor you found in Tir Yadar.”

“King Argyros’s armor?” Ellerie asked. “She was able to fix it?”

“She said she removed the enchantment that burned anyone who touched it, and she reset the binding spell. That’s why the pieces are in the bags. It’ll bind itself to whoever touches it next.”

Corec nodded. “I’m sure Ariadne will be glad to have it back.”

Leena shook her head. “Hildra said you should try it. She thinks it’ll fit you. It has to be someone close to your size.”

“Me?” Corec said, frowning. “I wouldn’t feel right about that. I already took the man’s hammer. The armor should go to Ariadne’s people.”

Ellerie shrugged. “If the binding spell was reset once, it can be reset again,” she told him, then turned to Leena. “Did she say why he should wear it?”

“Only that it’s made from the same metal as the hammer, and some of the enchantments seem similar. She thought you should keep the two together.”

“The only thing the hammer does is get really heavy,” Corec said. “The armor didn’t do that.”

“I’m not sure,” Leena said. “Hildra wasn’t able to test the enchantments to see what they do. She couldn’t fit into the armor, and she didn’t want to let it bind to someone else. She said you’d have to try it out yourself.”

Corec nodded. “I suppose I can ask Ariadne what she thinks about it. Are you feeling up to another trip?”

Ellerie raised an eyebrow.

“Where do you want me to go?” Leena asked.

“I need to find Shavala. I thought she’d be here by now, but she’s still somewhere to the south.”

Leena did a Seeking on the elven woman. “She’s … it feels familiar. She’s at the western edge of the Terril Forest. I’ve been there before. Not the same spot, but nearby.”

“You can reach that far?” Ellerie said. “That’s hundreds of miles away.”

“I … I don’t know.” Leena had never been able to Seek much farther out than fifty miles. She tried another Seeking. “I can’t reach my brother, but Razai’s in Telfort. I’ve been there, too.” What else could she look for? “I can’t find the inn we stayed at in Dalewood, and that’s closer than Shavala or Razai.”

“So why does it work for them?”

Leena considered the question. “I can always find Corec through the warden bond just as if I’d done a Seeking on him. The bond only works with him, but what if Seeking the rest of you works the same way? I’m connected to him, and then he’s connected to you.” The warden bond was easier than a Seeking, so she’d always used Corec as her compass when returning to the group. It hadn’t occurred to her to try the others.

“Does that mean you’d be able to find any of us, no matter where we’re at?” Corec asked. “You can go to Shavala right now? If she’s at the edge of the forest, then she’s not in Terrillia, so humans should be allowed there.”

“Yes,” Leena said. “I can go to exactly where she is.”

#

Shavala had made sure to hold onto the staff for support, and by the time the tremors stopped, she was the only one still standing. She was at the center of a wide ring of new-grown tershaya trees, in the abandoned farmland just west of the Terril Forest. The ring wasn’t perfectly circular—buried boulders had gotten in the way—but it was close. The staff had allowed Shavala to guide the growth this time.

Zhailai, Elder Nariela, and the small party of rangers stared in wonder as they clambered back to their feet. There hadn’t been an opportunity to discuss the staff with the full conclave, focused as they were on the dragon. And, in truth, Shavala had been reluctant to do so. She wasn’t sure what their decision would be, and she’d made promises she intended to fulfill. Meritia had returned to her duties at the northeastern outpost, but before leaving, she’d suggested speaking to an elder one on one, so Shavala had joined Nariela’s scouting party. They weren’t doing much other than watching for signs of dragon incursion and making sure the creature didn’t set any fires, but it was better than doing nothing at all. The druids seemed to be biding their time, waiting for the humans to deal with the dragon so the elves didn’t have to.

Nariela spun in a slow circle, looking up at the new trees. “I’ve never seen …” she started before trailing off. “How did you accelerate the growth so much? I’ve managed a year’s worth at a time, but tershaya have never taken well to it. This was hundreds of years of growth, for two dozen trees at once! I sensed the magic, but something felt different about it.”

“The staff combines elder magic with something else,” Shavala said. “I don’t think it could do what it does with just elder magic alone.”

“It doesn’t require seedlings or cuttings?” Zhailai asked.

“The staff itself is the cutting,” Shavala said, pulling the bare branch loose from the ground as the roots below it snapped off and dissolved into the soil. “It can create other environments, but it seems to like tershaya the best.”

“Where could it have come from?” Nariela asked. “Why was it just sitting in an abandoned city?”

“I think it was a gift from the old gods to the first druids.”

“The old gods?” Zhailai asked, her tone skeptical. “Why would you say that?”

“It’s shown me visions of its previous bearers. In the earliest vision, the old gods were there when the first bearer took the staff.” Shavala didn’t have any proof the animals in that vision were the old gods, but with Ariadne’s tales of the creatures, what else could they have been?

“They gifted it to the dorvasta?” Nariela said.

“We were still called vasta then. It was before the split with the nilvasta.” That information had come from Ariadne rather than the visions, but this wasn’t the time to go into the ancient history of the elven people. “I wanted to return it to its rightful place.”

The gray-haired woman nodded. “You did the right thing. If it can grow tershaya this easily, it must be kept safe in Terrillia.”

“I’ll take it there when I can, but first, I’ve made other commitments.” Shavala kept her voice firm, hoping her confidence would project itself through the tree bond. “I grew a small forest in Cordaea, but it’s in the middle of a barren land. If I don’t return, the trees will die.”

“You must care for them, of course, but Cordaea is far away. Can you safeguard the staff?”

“I’ll be careful,” Shavala said. “And one more thing—I promised Ellerie di’Valla that I would grow tershaya in Terevas.”

Nariela and Zhailai exchanged startled glances.

“You spoke to the queen’s daughter about it?” Nariela asked. “I wish you hadn’t done that. There’s no point in giving tershaya to the nilvasta. We’ve tried, but they can’t care for them without the tree bond.”

“Tershaya don’t require constant care as long as they’re root-bonded to enough others of their kind,” Shavala said. “Ellerie asked me to try. And the nilvasta still have the tree bond—it just doesn’t work right anymore.”

“Because they turned their backs on our ways. They left the forest and lost the bond, just like the dorvasta who live outside our borders. That’s why we discourage all but the druids from going on the travels, and why we don’t talk about those who’ve left the forest. We don’t want to encourage others to do the same. The nilvasta serve as a warning to us all. They want nothing more than to regain the bond, but it’s too late. There’s nothing we can do for them.”

That was why the dorvasta villages were kept secret?

“The nilvasta didn’t lose the tree bond because they left the forest,” Shavala said. “They lost it because of their human blood. Human and Chosar.”

“What are you talking about?” Nariela asked. “Why would you think that? And who are the Chosar?”

“You’ve heard of the Ancients?”

“It’s a word sometimes used to refer to the first peoples.”

Shavala shook her head. “We think the Ancients were the Chosar. They lived among elves and humans, but they were separate. They died out a long time ago, but the abandoned city I told you about belonged to them.”

“That doesn’t explain what you said about the nilvasta bloodline. Where did you hear that?”

Shavala wasn’t certain whether she should mention Ariadne, and in any case, she hadn’t paid close attention to all the details. “Isn’t the point of our travels to learn new things?” she asked. “I traveled to Cordaea with Ellerie di’Valla. She’s a scholar and historian, and she was looking for information about the Ancients. We found it.”

Before they could ask any more questions, there was a flicker, and then Leena suddenly appeared from nowhere. The rangers cursed in surprise and reached for their bows, but Shavala stepped around her and held up her hand to stop them.

“Wait, she’s a friend!” she told the others, then asked Leena, “What are you doing here? It’s dangerous—the dragon from the free lands has been flying overhead.”

“Yes, I know,” Leena said. “Hello,” she said to the rest of the scouting party in careful Elven before turning back to Shavala. “The dragon’s come almost as far north as Four Roads. Ellerie and Corec and the others are going after it. Corec was hoping you would help. He thought you were going to join us before now.”

“I was held up here. Everyone is in Four Roads?”

“Yes, but they’ll be leaving in about a week, heading down the Farm Road toward the keep where the dragon is nesting.”

Four Roads was nearly two weeks of travel through rough terrain, but if Shavala tracked Corec through the warden bond, she’d be able to meet him along the way and cut several days off that time. She’d have to travel light, and she’d need clothing that would blend in with the surroundings so the dragon didn’t notice her.

“Tell him I’m on my way.”

#

Yassi found Kolvi down in the practice room with Sir Barat. The large chamber beneath the palace had been converted from a series of storage rooms nearly three hundred years earlier, back when elder magic had first found its way into the royal bloodline. The family now used the secret location to train their witches.

In Larso, being a mage was dangerous. If the family had been gifted with wizardry, perhaps it would have been safer to ignore it, allowing the magic to remain dormant. With elder magic, though, that wasn’t possible. Elder magic always came out, and the witches had to learn enough about their abilities to keep them under control. Even Prince Rikard, who’d had little interest in magic, had practiced down here until his father was sure he wouldn’t light something on fire by accident.

Rusol had spent much of his youth in this chamber, learning from the old witch woman Marten had recruited to train him, though Yassi’s husband had outgrown his teacher’s abilities even before he’d been chosen as a warden.

Kolvi was gesturing to one of three wooden buckets at the far end of the room. A small column of water rose up to the height of a man and then froze in place.

“Melt it,” the witch told Barat. “Try to reach it from here.”

The knight braced his feet and thrust his hands forward, flames billowing ten feet out. The bucket and target remained untouched, thirty feet away. “Is too far,” he said in his heavy accent as he let the fire die.

Kolvi held one hand out and launched a delicate streamer of flame all the way to the target. It curled around the thin pillar of ice, melting it through the middle. The upper half of the column crashed to the floor, shattering into tiny pieces.

“You need to practice more,” she said. She raised another column of ice, from the next bucket over. “This time, create the fire in the air near the ice, and sustain it with just magic alone. Don’t burn the bucket.”

A burning ball of flame the size of a man’s head appeared at the other end of the room. Barat’s outstretched arm trembled as he attempted to hold the fireball in place near the target.

Kolvi saw Yassi waiting. “Keep doing that,” the elder witch said to the knight. “Once it’s melted, try to freeze the water in the third bucket. You can move closer if you need to.”

While he focused on his task, Kolvi came over to Yassi. “Well?” she asked. “What do you think?”

“Will he really need to learn all that now that we know the wardens didn’t kill Rikard?”

Kolvi’s eyes grew cold. “I didn’t come here for the wardens. With enough strong elder witches, the Church won’t stand a chance.”

Yassi looked down, unable to meet the other woman’s gaze. Not counting Merice, Kolvi was the closest thing Yassi had to a friend in the palace, but it was a very tentative friendship. Was Rusol aware of the woman’s plans? His hold over the witch had always been shakier than his control of his other bondmates. Thankfully he’d never ordered Yassi to spy on the others.

“Can I speak to you alone?” she asked, drawing Kolvi farther from Barat. “I missed my bleeding last month,” she whispered.

“Ahh, and you want me to check?”

“I’ve been tired and sick to my stomach, but I don’t want to say anything until I know for sure.”

Kolvi’s gaze went out of focus as she laid a hand on Yassi’s belly. A moment later, she spoke again. “Yes. Congratulations, I suppose.”

Yassi’s heart thudded in her chest. “Then I’m … ?”

“You’re with child.”