Oathkeeper (53 page)

“Sorry.” Tyree's hands came up again, a gesture meant to imply surrender, but Cadence saw traces of potential movements, bracelets to daggers, daggers hurled. He meant the surrender, but Tyree never let his guard down enough that the possibility of attack faded from him. “Just trying to help.”

“You're a dangerous man.” Cadence picked at the mixture of dried fruit, nuts, and mushrooms in her pack. “Too dangerous to have in my head.”

“I'm too much of a gentlemen to suggest other alternatives.” Tyree's smile blazed at her, part an unconscious blast of charisma, and the rest wholly physical and behavioral. He was attractive, but she'd had her fill of outlaws. A farmer had more chance to bed her than he did, someone who could provide a normal home for Caius where he wouldn't grow up to—Another vision flashed through her head. Leather wings. A burning farm. Dead men hanging from an apple tree.

“Who is Caius?” Tyree asked.

“I told you to stay out, curse you.” The Long Fist loomed at the edge of her mind.

“You think quite loudly.” Tyree's eyes went cold. “If you don't want me to hear you, stop shouting. And that other thing . . .” His eyes flicked to her right, where she'd imagined a hand ready to grab him. “You'd likely win, but the real question is whether you'd be blind in both eyes or just in one by the time my brains have been bashed onto the tunnel wall.”

It hung there between them, silence pregnant with delayed violence.

“C'mon,” he whispered. “Whoever this Hap was, I'm not him. This Caius fellow . . . I'm not him either. I have no interest in hurting you, a moderate interest in getting to know you better, but mainly, I'm leading these Aern.” He nodded, not breaking eye contact, toward Kazan and the others, farther up the tunnel, feeding on the bodies of the dead, stripping the livers, and sucking the marrow from the bones. “Back to their kholster, because I have every confidence she'll pay me again and I can see the size of the debt I'll owe Niorri—well, I hope Niorri, she is the best shipwright in Midian—on a new ship getting smaller and smaller with each chip of bone-steel or royal kandit they pay me.”

“That,” she said, catching the edge of a thought, “and you're afraid of what will happen if you try to make it through Castleguard's borders with Aernese coin on you while the Harvest Knights are stirred up.”

“Now who's peeking?” Tyree lowered his hands, a calculated surrender. “And I wouldn't call it afraid. Appropriately wary.” He said another thing too, about being able to smuggle himself through if he wanted, but not wanting to take needless risks with his horse, but Cadence had stopped listening.

In his eyes, Cadence beheld other visions. Some of her and Tyree together in ways she doubted would ever come to pass, others with him as dead as Sedric at the knife, pistol, or hands of her son. But there, amid the visions of death and murder, was a fleeting image of her son at the wheel of a ship, Tyree's hand on his shoulder, forearm touching the edge of those leathery wings, a bandage on her son's back, a healing wound. They met each other's gaze and laughed, sailing out to sea with Midian at their backs.

“Where did you go just then?” Tyree asked.

Leaning forward, ignoring the way his eyes darted to the neck of her blouse, Cadence grabbed his shirt and pulled him forward, eye to eye.

“I want to get a better look.” Her nose touched his. “May I?”

“That all depends.” But she could already see the march of days. A young boy orphaned by Aern, adopted by a Hulsite mercenary, only to lose him to an Aern as well. An uncle. The sea. So much hate and anger, yet he'd let it go, blaming no one, accepting others as he found them. Trustworthy to his friends. A man of his word, but also an unblinking killer if the situation arose. . . .

Maybe
, she thought.

I'll take maybe
, he thought back. “Now did you see whatever you need, or do I need to take my shirt off?”

She flinched, expecting him to take her in his arms and try to kiss her. Instead, he turned away, eyes on an approaching Aern. Kazan, the one she'd been sure would die.

“You two ready to move on?” Kazan said. “I think they've filled up on the least rotten bits.”

“It's those least rotten bits that are so important.” Tyree gently pulled his shirt from Cadence's grasp. As he stood, he winked at her. “Everybody has them.”

“Actually . . .” Joose joined them, still wiping gore from his lips. “No, some of the older bodies are rotten through and through.”

“Now.” Tyree put his arm around Joose's shoulders. “As I was telling Cadence, it's around two hundred and fifty jun as best I could count from here to what the Zaur were using as a central tunnel. I'm no Dwarf, but I used to live with one in Midian and if what she taught me is correct—”

“Why would she teach you about tunnels?” Arbokk asked.

Tyree grinned at that. “As I was saying, I think they had staging areas near each watch city, so if I steer us well, we can come up under South Watch then cut overland from there. We'll be in the Eldren Plains proper and I don't see the Harvest Knights tracking us that far afield.”

“South Watch is clear,” Kazan told him. “They already killed the Zaur force there and Bloodmane feels it was a feint to begin with. I can have Eyes of Vengeance meet us there.”

“Then let's go.” Cadence sprang to her feet.

*

A ragged line of misery, the exiles pushed on. Rae'en and Glayne held a wagon in the air while the Oathbreakers who owned it tried to fit the mended wheel onto its axle.

Strange to be helping them
, Amber thought at Rae'en.

Yes
, Kazan sent,
but they might be Aiannai tomorrow. Why not assume that and not worry?

If they are not accepted as Aiannai,
Bloodmane added,
it is quite possible they will go on the prince's mission to recover the Lost Command.

In which case
, Rae'en sent,
we want them to succeed. So a little assistance now is no meat off my table. What I want to know—
Rae'en looked back in the direction of Port Ammond, though it was miles distant and long out of sight, —
is what happened with Coal.

Inconclusive.
Glayne shrugged, lowering the wagon.
You saw what I saw before the dragon melted my weapon.

We'll get an update from the Bone Finders Zhan dispatches to recover the bone-steel, won't we?
Kazan asked.

Who is he sending?
Rae'en asked.

Teru and Whaar
, Kazan answered. Rae'en's map zoomed out as if she were on dragon back, and two dots among a sea of them flared bright gold.
See?

Looks like they are headed this way
, Rae'en sent.
Not to Port Ammond.

Another dot, this one moving by itself, along the White Road from Fort Sunder flared.

Alysaundra is meeting them here so she can join them after they deliver your ring,
Eyes of Vengeance said.

Should I send someone with them?
Rae'en asked.

Why would you?
Eyes of Vengeance asked.
You could offer, but Hasimak and the nobles, if they yet live, will not attack them and Coal is our ally, so neither will he.

I guess.
Rae'en dropped her side of the wagon back to the ground, the wheel in place and having withstood the weight of Glayne's portion of the wagon back on it.

It's hard to sit back and let Zhan run his Ossuary
, Amber sent,
isn't it?

Yes.

Teams of Aiannai, Eldrennai, and Aern ranged out from the long trail of cold, complaining evacuees to hunt more game to feed them. Reports of their progress scrolled through kholster Rae'en's mind in exhaustive lists pared down by Kazan as best he could.

She didn't know how he kept it all straight in his head, holding the location of all the Armored and tracking their positions moment to moment. Kholster had often joked about how much more effective Overwatches were than kholsters at that sort of thing. He could talk to them all at once. He was the one who had linked them, but he only came close to feeling the kinds of things an Overwatch did at the start and finish of an All Know or an All Recall.

Each time they stopped, a sally from the Zaur would begin, usually within hours, forcing them to press on, to barely sleep. This was no problem for the Armored; Rae'en had even learned the art of warsuit rack time—sleeping inside Bloodmane while he soldiered tirelessly on when she wanted a nap.

On the first night out, a group of rebels had tried to assassinate King Rivvek only to be brutally beaten back by the king's Lancers and the Sidearms temporarily under Brigadier Bhaeshal's command. As effective at cowing rebellion as the presence of so many Aern had been, many found the sight of the night sky alight with lightning strikes as Mazik and Bash struck, sending the twelve would-be murderers dead and burning into the air as Geomancers summoned a protective ring around the king, to be more so. Pyromancers limned in flame had stood at the ready, not even moving to strike, alongside Hydromancers showing the same restraint.

But the words Rae'en heard repeated over and over again by the Oathbreakers as they struggled on were the trepidatious words “Are the Aern getting hungry, kholster Rae'en?”

Hundreds had slipped away before morning, deciding to take their chances with the Zaur. Their screams had started less than a jun from camp. On the second night no one had deserted, and though the grumbling increased, it lessened with each day as the king and his soldiers moved through the line of refugees at dawn, noon, and dusk ensuring all had adequate food and water, that the sick or injured were cared for as best as conditions allowed. With each Zaur attack repelled, his people began to trust him more, cursing him in one breath and then thanking him in the next when he tended their needs.

By the third night, Alysaundra and her ex-husbands had returned Rae'en's ring and headed on to Port Ammond. Rae'en wore the ring of silvered bone-steel and vowed never to take it off unless it was to read her father's inscription. If the return of the ring lightened her mood, she did not seem to be the only one.

Older elves had begun to recount tales of King Villok's bloody rise to power and of the abuses of King Zillek's reign. Not many openly praised Rivvek, but some began to argue about what more he could possibly have done to spare them. Had he not managed to secure the help of the Aern? Had he not spared as many as he could? What else could one expect of a mage-cripple than to grab at what allies he could? That brother of his hadn't shown up with a plan to save anyone, had he? And him with all the magic an elf could ask for? Didn't even show up to his own father's funeral. . . .

On the fourth night, Rae'en walked with her Overwatches, patrolling a circuit around the group, listening to the sounds of elves sleeping, moaning, and crying in the night. Laughter was scarce, but so were screams.

He seems to be winning them over
, Rae'en thought.

Maybe it's the leisurely pace he's setting
, Amber thought.
We've only covered half the distance in almost four days of walking. They stop at dusk and don't start until dawn. We could have been to Fort Sunder and back several times over.

Why haven't the Zaur overtaken us?
Glayne asked.
That is what bothers me the most.

Maybe they think if they keep us in close quarters with them long enough
, Amber sent,
we'll eat the Oathbreakers ourselves.

What do you think, kholster Rae'en?
Feagus asked.

I don't care.
Rae'en closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling but still seeing what was in front of her through Bloodmane's eyes.
Whatever reasons they have, whether it's that they don't want the Eldrennai to be able to use their magic, or they want us to kill each other for them, we're going to win. The Aern held Fort Sunder against a full Ghaiattri invasion. We can hold it against the Zaur.

We did have a larger force then,
Bloodmane sent only to Rae'en.

But now we have a dragon, or should.
Rae'en thought of the dragon, and anger grew in the pit of her stomach.
Both Coal and the Oathbreakers should have rejoined us by now. They can't still be holding Port Ammond. There were only five Oathbreakers and even if they died, there is no way the Zaur killed Coal.

It is not unusual for a dragon to sleep for several days after a large expenditure of energy. . . .

Show me the dragon attack again
, Rae'en thought at Bloodmane.
Right up until Coal slagged Glayne's dagger.

Of course.

As she watched, Rae'en sensed she was missing a vital aspect of unfolding events, but viewing the sequence over and over did nothing other than to make her wish Coal were with her army. She knew dragons were capricious beasts, but she wished this one cared a little more about how she wanted his help, rather than how he wanted to grant it.

CHAPTER 39

ANYTHING TO WIN

Sedric sat at Castleguard, shivering despite the heavy robes he wore and the cup of soup he'd been offered. He had missed the noon Changing of the Gods and passed beyond North Gate near dinner time. Even as a Master Long Speaker, there were things best viewed with one's own eyes. Cassandra, Revered Master Long Speaker and controller of the Castleguard Relay, sat next to him in the crush of people gathered around the statues of the gods.

“Is it always this crowded?” Sedric asked as a young boy jostled him.

“More and more since the new death god arose.” Cassandra, a pleasant woman with a pleasant face, who eschewed normal Long Speaker garb, preferring the warm wool dresses, fur-lined gloves, and boots popular among the lesser nobles in the King's Court, did not give the impression of being a human who could tear out one's mind with a thought. She patted a child on the head and shooed him away. “And once that happened,” she said, rolling her eyes at the statue of Vander that occupied Aldo's former position, “the Knights had to force less influential supplicants to watch from the bottom of Pilgrim's Hill.”