Heirs of the Fallen: Book 04 - Wrath of the Fallen (6 page)

Only Sumahn kept his wits about him, at least enough to strip off his outer robe and gently bundle Nola into it. When finished, he glanced up, urgency lighting his black eyes. “We need a healer, or she won’t live out the day.”

“Yatoans are a strong race,” Damoc said, as if trying to convince himself.

“Be that as it may,” Sumahn growled, “she needs proper care.”

“Adu’lin’s palace in Armala will surely have what we need,” Belina advised.

Damoc followed her gaze. Rubble cascaded down the slope hundreds of paces. Beyond the destruction, the lush green forest rose up to block the view of the city.

“We must hurry,” Sumahn warned. “Carrying her as we will have to, it could be a journey of hours.”

Daris looked in the opposite direction. “What of the others—Ulmek, Leitos, Adham?”

Sumahn was already lifting Nola, cradling her like an infant against his chest. “If they live, they will know where to find us.”

“But they might be hurt or buried,” Daris insisted.

“Search them out,” Sumahn said, and turned away. Damoc hobbled along after the young Brother, using his stick to help pick out a safe path.

Belina stood undecided under Daris’s questioning stare. Her sister was her life, much as each of them were Damoc’s. But since she had grown old enough to fully understand her visions of Leitos, and long before she had learned his name, he had always been in her thoughts. Of late, those dreams and visions had fled her, but Leitos remained, a man of shadow and steel, of blood and death, and somehow the hope of the world.

At last she said, “Help me find Leitos.” She wished she had her sword and bow, but the sheathed dagger at her hip would have to do.

Daris nodded, and they set out toward the ruins of the Throat of Balaam.

Chapter 9

Adham was not sure how he and Ulmek had gotten out of the Throat. They had been shuffling along the glowing blue corridor, when everything became brighter than the sun. There had been a terrible roaring noise that grew until it surpassed hearing. Next thing, he and Ulmek were coming awake, both sprawled over broken rocks like clothes for drying. That baffling journey, though, was the least of his concerns.

Grimacing, Adham closed his eyes. His head felt crushed, along with most of his ribs, but he had taken few serious injuries. Scrapes, mostly, and a good many bruises. He would heal soon enough. Such was a gift of the Valara line, something to do with his father being present when the Well of Creation was destroyed.

“For near on three lifetimes of men,” Adham said, slumped on a leaning pillar of rock, eyes squinted against the harsh sunlight, “I’ve fought the Faceless One and his minions, never knowing the enemy was my own father.”

“Don’t be a fool,” Ulmek said, as he ripped another strip of cloth off the hem of his robe and wrapped it around a gash on his arm.

“Is that the way of the Crimson Shield,” Adham asked, “refusing to openly name your foes? I could expect as much from Ba’Sel, mad as he is now, but not from you. We both saw Kian, and the only fool here is he who denies it.”

Ulmek turned his flinty black eyes on Adham. “My Brothers and I have always fought the Bane of Creation, Izutarian, the same as you.”

“Your point?” Adham knew what he had seen in the Throat of Balaam. Kian Valara, once the mighty King of the North, sitting upon a throne as black as his accursed heart. Adham’s sole comfort was to believe his father had somehow been tricked into becoming the most ruthless enemy humankind had ever known.

Ulmek glared at him. “My point, as if it needs to be spoken, is that the Faceless One wields the Powers of Creation in unimaginable ways. I expect the man we saw was an illusion. Either that, or you and your people are complete dolts, and blind on top of it, to have missed the enemy standing in your midst for so long.”

Adham’s scowl softened. He desperately wanted to trust in Ulmek’s belief, but he had known too many folk who deluded themselves with false convictions.

“Come,” Ulmek said. “We have to find Leitos.”

It shamed Adham that it took Ulmek to get his feet moving. He prayed his son was alive, but he had another desire, as well, and that was to find his son as he should be, instead of the freakish, pale creature Leitos had become after passing through the veil between the Throat of Balaam and the Faceless One’s throne room.

When Adham was a boy, Kian, Azuri and Hazad had been drinking and recounting what had led to the destruction of the Well of Creation. They told of the strange occurrences on that day in the Qaharadin Marshes, of a pillar of blue fire erupting from an ancient temple, how that pillar had seemed to stab at the three moons, and how those moons collided and rained fire and death across every land. That was the beginning of the Upheaval. They also spoke of a monstrous root-serpent tearing loose from the swamp’s muddy soil and attacking the company, and of terrible fires a boy-prince had created from thin air to turn men into ash in a blink. Strange tellings, but stories Adham would eventually come to think of as ordinary in a world ruled by the Faceless One, and ravaged by demon-born.

What came to mind now was Kian’s hushed description of Prince Varis Kilvar as he had come out of the temple, the same youth who tried to make himself a living god. The account of Varis matched what Adham had seen when he had looked at his son in the throne room....

But there had been so much chaos in the final moments before Leitos and the Faceless One vanished.
Perhaps I imagined it
, Adham thought hopefully, latching onto that thin belief with all his strength.

Ulmek made to face the Throat, now a dark crack where it had once been a broad archway filled with ghostly azure light, but he went still and looked below them.

Adham glanced that way and saw people moving about on the slope. Some were Yatoans, by their clothing. Beneath smudges of dust, their tunics and leggings were all of mottled greens, browns, and grays. Further study revealed Belina and Damoc, joined by two Brothers of the Crimson Shield, Sumahn and Daris. Counting himself, Adham knew eight of them had come after Adu’lin to the Throat of Balaam, but now he counted only seven.

“Someone’s buried,” Ulmek said, echoing Adham’s thought.

“I can’t believe any of us are still alive.”

Ulmek favored him with a blade-thin smirk. “You need to strengthen your faith, my friend, or what’s left of your life is bound to be one misery after another.”

Adham grunted noncommittally. The distant foursome quickly moved into a shallow depression, and began heaving against a large slab of rock. “We should help.”

“They have done fine without us,” Ulmek said, as the sound of stone grinding against stone wandered upslope.

Sumahn abruptly shed his outer robe, hunkered down, and worked furiously. A few moments more, and he stood up holding someone in his arms. Nola, Adham knew. After some discussion, the group split apart, with Damoc following Sumahn and his burden downhill. Daris and Belina began picking their way up toward the Throat.

“You’re alive!” Daris called when he saw them. Between him and Sumahn, he had always been the quickest to make a jest and to offer a smile. Sumahn was given to laughter, but less often. He was made of sterner material, much like Ulmek.

“You expected less?” Ulmek answered dryly.

Belina glanced between Adham and Ulmek, then searched behind them. “Leitos?”

Daris mirrored her concern.

Adham was about to shake his head, when Ulmek said, “He’s still inside.” The warrior sounded so sure, Adham found it hard not to believe him.

A sudden loud rumbling drifted out of the Throat, then a few rocks tumbled loose, and the opening grew wider. An arm poked out, then a leg, and finally a dusty head.

“Leitos!” Belina squealed, and scampered over the rubble to meet him.

Leitos came out into the sunlight, squinting like a mole. When he saw Belina, a tired smile touched his lips. She flew into his arms.

Adham stared intently. His son was grimy, tattered, and pale from the dust, but he looked as he should, and not like a corpse at all.
Did I imagine it?
He almost thought he had, but remembered that Ulmek had seen the change come over Leitos. He searched the warrior’s face for any sign of wariness, but saw only relief written across his hard features.

“Good to see you, little brother,” Ulmek said, the warmth in his voice out of character. “As you are alive, and by the look of you better off than the rest of us, I trust you succeeded?”

“I have news everyone needs to hear,” Leitos said slowly.

He and the Yatoan girl joined the others. Belina was staring at him as if she could not believe he was real. Adham recalled that she had some strange ideas that she had seen Leitos in visions long before ever meeting him, and something about him being necessary to destroy the Faceless One.

Adham shook off his doubts and hugged his son. Leitos felt real under his hands, solid. There was nothing abnormal or malformed about him, but still....

Leitos gently pushed him away. “I’m well, Father,” he said, and Adham realized that he had been rudely poking and patting his son, much as he would a cut of questionable meat.

“What happened?” Adham asked, unable to withhold the question.

Leitos’s gaze was unwavering. “Every kingdom across the Sea of Drakarra is lost,” he said simply. “And your father, Kian Valara, is dead.”

“Did you...?”

“No,” Leitos said quickly. “What we saw, what I fought, wore Kian’s face, but was not him. Your father has been dead for some time.” He looked ready to add more, but abruptly pressed his lips together.

“See there,” Ulmek said. “I told you Kian did not betray his people.”

“Then who is the Faceless One?” Adham asked. What relief he had gained in learning that his father was not the destroyer of humankind was overshadowed by the grief in learning of his demise. And if Kian was dead, what of the others? The north was fallen, Leitos had said, and that meant his mother, Ellonlef, was gone, along with Hazad and Azuri, and all the rest who Adham had lived and fought beside since he was old enough to wield a sword.

Before Leitos could reveal who had been wearing Kian’s face, Belina cleared her throat. She looked to Adham. “Why would you think the Faceless One was your father?”

Adham realized she had never seen the Faceless One’s transformation. “When we went into the Throat, it was Kian who greeted us.”

“No,” Leitos said. “The Faceless One and Peropis are one and the same, and she’s coming.”

“Gods good and wise,” Daris breathed.

“What else can you tell us?” Ulmek asked.

“Little enough,” Leitos said. “But I’d rather tell it to everyone at once.” He looked about, concern wrinkling his brow. “Sumahn, Nola, Damoc, are they...?”

“They are alive,” Belina said hastily.

“And off to Armala,” Daris put in. “Nola was hurt. Sumahn and Damoc are taking her to the palace.”

“We should go after them,” Leitos said. In a lower voice, he added, “Time is short.”

Ulmek agreed with a nod and set out. The others quickly fell in line, with Leitos and Adham coming last.

Adham studied his son with fleeting glances, assuring himself that he was whole and hale. Aside from that, he sensed a difference in him, something he could not name, something that made him uneasy.
Stop being an old fool
, he told himself, but just as quickly reminded himself that it was the rare fool who grew to a ripe old age.

Chapter 10

After climbing down off the rockslide, the forest closed around them. A dense canopy of leaves blotted most of the sunlight, leaving them to walk in a steamy green murk. Through breaks in the boughs, Adham caught glimpses of clouds, their tops glaring white and swollen, and their bellies dark with the promise of rain. He had never been in a land where rain fell so often, and yet did nothing to cool the air.

He swatted away a buzzing host of midges. “Do you know how Kian died?” he asked Leitos.

The question broke the pensive look on his son’s face, and Leitos glanced sideways at him. He then bent to murmur something in Belina’s ear, and gently prodded her to join Daris and Ulmek on the trail up ahead.

Before she got too far away, he warned, “Have a care. There are still Alon’mahk’lar and Fauthians on this island, and perhaps sea-wolves.”

“Caution is life,” she said, flashing him a shy smile before quickly turning away. Leitos watched her go, a slight frown creasing his brow.

She fancies you
, Adham almost said to him, but held back. If the Silent God of All willed it, perhaps Leitos would find in Belina the woman he had lost in Zera.

Allowing Leitos to gather his thoughts, Adham walked in silence beside his son, their boots squishing through mud and fallen leaves.

This place was nothing like his frozen homelands of Izutar. Here there was abundant and colorful life flashing from vine to branch, filling the stifling air with a pleasing chatter. It was always summer here, he expected, redolent of nectar and blossoms.

In Izutar, spring and summer were short affairs after the winter snows melted, punctuated by a rapid greening of hillsides and sweeping meadows. Hot days had been a rarity. Not so rare had been the Faceless One’s hordes, a constant danger during warmer months. Instead of planting crops and replenishing food stores, his people had donned their armor to reap death.