Reign of Ash (56 page)

“Hear me. This is an order, binding on you and upon all the Knights. You will not hinder Lord McFadden and his party from leaving. You will assist them so they reach the lowlands safely, and you will permit them to go on their way.”

“Yes, sir,” Dolan replied, though he did not look happy with the command.

“I find this body quite compatible,” the Wraith Lord continued. “And the mortal who possesses this form has asked only one boon of me, despite how hard I have used him. I grant that favor.” He turned to meet Dolan’s gaze. “You and all the Knights will cause no harm to befall McFadden and his companions, and insofar as you are able, you will lend him your protection when he requires it. Am I understood?”

Dolan’s jaw was tight, but he gave a curt nod. “Yes, sir.”

The Wraith Lord turned to Blaine. “You have done well, Lord McFadden, but your part is not yet over. I was able to help destroy the army that sought you, but there will be others. You are the last Lord of the Blood. You may find that this means you are in more danger now than ever before, since you are bound to the fragile new magic.”

“I brought back the magic. I’m done,” Blaine said, meeting the Wraith Lord’s gaze levelly and finding that the soul that looked back at him with Connor’s eyes was ancient.

“So you believe. This land has need of you. When I can, I will assist you.”

Though the Wraith Lord’s voice never wavered, Blaine could see that Connor was growing pale. “I will consider what you’ve said,” Blaine replied cautiously. “But you must let go of Connor. He’s weakening.”

“Remember my words,” the Wraith Lord replied.

Connor collapsed like a severed marionette and would have fallen had not Blaine and Dolan caught him. Blaine eased Connor to the ground and met Dolan’s gaze.

“First, we’re going to get a healer for Connor, and food, drink, and rest for my people. Then we’re leaving,” Blaine said.

“I know my orders,” Dolan growled.

Blaine turned to Quintrel. “I hope you’ve kept our rooms for us, because I think we’re all going to sleep well tonight.” He looked Quintrel in the eye. “And we’re leaving at dusk tomorrow.”

Quintrel chuckled. “You don’t have to convince me further,” he said. “I’m not one to question the Wraith Lord, especially when it comes to standing in the way of destiny.”

“C
an you feel it?” Kestel looked from Blaine to Dawe to Verran.

“No, obviously I can’t,” Piran remarked, “since I never had magic to begin with. The question is – can you?”

They had returned to their room inside the large Valshoan building, reluctantly aware that even with their concerns over Quintrel’s questionable hospitality, the night’s working had taken too high a toll on Blaine to contemplate leaving the valley without rest. Blaine and Connor were hardest hit from the efforts, but the others looked exhausted as well.

Despite a generous dinner and ample wine set out by the mage-scholars, Blaine felt completely spent. His only consolation was that Connor looked worse. They had kept their weapons, although after the Wraith Lord’s announcement, Blaine doubted they would have further difficulty from Dolan and the Knights. Still, he remained wary of Quintrel’s reach now that the magic had been restored.

Zaryae also looked tired, and she had eaten little. The twins were quiet. “My offer still stands for you to come back to Glenreith with us,” Blaine said. “Stay as long as you like.”

Zaryae and the twins exchanged a look, and Borya nodded in agreement. “We would be grateful. We can earn our keep. Thank you.”

Kestel sidled up to Blaine. “I don’t really have anyone to test my magic on except the likes of you,” she said with a grin, “so it’s difficult to know whether or not it works.” She paused, and her expression was contemplative. “It feels different… But I can’t put my finger on why.”

“I would agree,” Dawe said, “although I won’t have much in the way of proof until I’m back in a forge. There’s something odd, and I can’t quite figure out what it is. If you pressed me, I’d say that the magic feels slippery, the way it did right before it disappeared, like it comes and goes.”

Blaine frowned. “Do you think that means it’s temporary?” He sighed. “I hate to think we’ve gone through all this and the magic won’t last.”

Verran chuckled. “Take me to a tavern, and I’ll test my magic.” He played a ditty on his flute. “If the tavern master buys me dinner and a drink for my efforts, it’s my own skill. If the entire bar buys me drinks for the night and the trollops fight over me, the magic is back.”

“Would those be the blind trollops or the deaf trollops?” Piran asked blandly.

The door to their room burst open and they rose to their feet, weapons at the ready. Treven Lowrey bustled in, oblivious to the raised swords. He rushed to where Blaine stood and threw his arms around him.

“Wonderful! You did it! I never doubted you for a minute!” Lowrey enthused, as the others chuckled and Blaine struggled free.

“So your magic is back?” Kestel asked. Lowrey had been among the mage-scholars chanting in the ritual chamber, but he looked no worse for the experience. Or perhaps, Blaine thought, it was difficult to tell, since Lowrey usually looked as if he’d just been roused from bed with no time to tame his wild gray hair.

“It’s back!” Lowrey agreed and gave Kestel a bear hug, swinging her in a circle and planting a kiss on her forehead. “I can’t begin to tell you how wonderful it feels.” He peered over his spectacles at her. “Your magic returned as well?”

Kestel nodded and gestured toward the others. “To an extent. We were wondering – did you and the other mages receive the same abilities and strength as before?”

Lowrey shrugged. “I’m happy enough to have any magic at all that I don’t see the point in quibbling. But now that you ask, no, it’s not exactly the same as before. It’s… crackly, if that makes any sense. Brittle.” He sighed. “I’m not sure what that means. It’s too soon to tell if it will last. According to Quintrel’s notes, every time the magic has been restored it’s wobbly for a while, as if the power takes time to stabilize.” He shook his head. “All the documents I found said there would be changes. I suppose it will take time to sort it all out.”

Blaine stifled a yawn. “As long as the magic can be controlled again, I’m just happy to be done with it.”

Connor had said little throughout dinner. Now, although he sat with the others, he seemed lost in thought, and Blaine wondered if he had fully recovered from the Wraith Lord’s appearance during the ritual. Lowrey turned to him.

“Commendable effort, m’boy,” Lowrey said, grinning. “Penhallow will be quite proud of you. I always knew you had it in you, Conroy.”

Connor sighed. “It’s Connor, and as I recall, you had your doubts.”

Lowrey brushed the comment aside. “It’s said that the mark of a great scholar is the ability to change his mind.” He sobered. “So you’ll be leaving the valley?”

“Tomorrow at dusk,” Piran said, in a tone that indicated they could not leave soon enough.

“Where will you go?”

Connor did not reply right away, so Blaine stepped in. “As far as I’m concerned, they’re all welcome at Glenreith for as long as they want to stay.” He met Kestel’s gaze, and she smiled. “Permanently, I hope.”

“Where I go depends on Penhallow,” Connor said. There was no hiding the weariness in his voice. “I suspect there will be loose ends to tie up.” He looked at a bit of a loss, now that the adventure was at its end. “At least, I’m assuming I have a place with him.”

Kestel laid a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t doubt it, but you’re always welcome with us if you change your mind. Maybe you’d like a little peace and quiet before you go adventuring again. I think you could use it.” Connor smiled wanly.

Blaine looked at Lowrey. “Did you hear anything about the attackers in the pass?”

Lowrey gave a cold chuckle. “Between the Wraith Lord, the Guardians, the magic storm, and the return of magic, there wasn’t much left.”

Kestel met Blaine’s gaze. “Do you think that puts an end to Reese and Pollard?”

Blaine sighed. “Doubtful. I don’t think they’re the type to give up easily.”

“We’ll find out the details soon enough,” Dawe said, pouring a fresh cup of wine for all of them and raising his in a toast. “Right now, I’m happy we’ve lived to tell the tale.”

“I’m just hoping that someone kept track of our horses,” Piran muttered. “I’ve got no desire to walk back to Glenreith.”

“Here you are, as promised.” Dolan gestured toward the end of a narrow passageway that led to the plains beyond the mountains.

“Thank you for leading us out,” Blaine said, eyeing the starlit sky at the end of the passage.

“We are in your debt,” Dolan said. “Without magic, the Knights were mere warriors. Now we are whole once more.”

“What will become of the Knights, now that there’s no need for exile?” Kestel asked.

Dolan looked thoughtful. “A good question, m’lady. We serve no purpose hiding in the valley now that there is no king to hunt us. Perhaps, after all these years, we can return to our true purpose as protectors.” He scratched his beard. “It will require discussion, but we may see you again.”

They neared the entrance, and a shadow crossed the opening, blocking the stars from view. At the front of the group, Blaine, Piran, and Connor drew their swords.

“Be at peace. I mean you no harm.” The figure stepped away from the opening, but it was still too dark to make out a face. “It’s Nidhud,” the shadowed form said. “Penhallow sent me to bring you to the camp.”

Just a few steps more, and the group stood on the open plain at the foot of the mountain. Nidhud and a half dozen of his Knights waited for them.

“Hail, brothers!” Dolan greeted his fellow Knights. He and Nidhud clasped forearms.

“It’s good to see you again.” Nidhud greeted him with a grin that revealed his long eyeteeth. “So it’s true. Some of the Knights did make it to Valshoa.”

“And it’s true, I see, that some of our brother Knights survived exile,” Dolan replied. “I’m happy you’re among the survivors.”

“That’s one of the reasons I asked Penhallow to send us as their honor guard,” Nidhud said with a nod toward Blaine and the others. “I was hoping that, if your band of Knights still existed, we might regroup to consider our place in this new Donderath.”

Dolan nodded. “When Lord McFadden spoke of your Knights, I hoped for the same thing. Yes, by all means, see to your task, and then return with your men. Our brothers in the valley will be happy to greet you and to hear your news.”

Nidhud shook his head. “I have no happy news of late to share, but we will speak of what we have seen.” He looked up at the shadowed peaks of the mountains. “Perhaps the Knights will find a role in the reawakening of this kingdom.”

“Personally, I think that’s an excellent idea,” Blaine said. “But don’t stay hidden away too long. I have a feeling the hard work is just beginning.”

Blaine and the others followed Nidhud down through the foothills to where the army camp sprawled on the flatland. Campfires blazed among the tents and lean-tos, and as Blaine got nearer the encampment he could see that it stretched much farther than before the battle.

“We seem to have picked up reinforcements along the way,” Piran remarked.

“Voss’s troops, most likely,” Blaine replied. “None of Nidhud’s men would use tents.”

“You are correct,” Nidhud answered from far enough ahead that Blaine had not expected him to be listening. “Traher Voss and his soldiers arrived in time to turn the tide.” He chuckled. “I must admit, despite Penhallow’s confidence, some of us were skeptical until Voss actually arrived.”

“I understand that completely,” Connor muttered.

As they drew closer to camp, they could hear the sound of drummers and pipers playing familiar tavern songs. With Nidhud’s escort, they were waved through by the sentries and found themselves in the thick of postbattle celebration.

Nidhud motioned to a passing soldier. “Find Captain Niklas and Lord Penhallow. Tell them I’m bringing our guests to the captain’s tent. Then go to the cook and bring enough food and drink for our guests.” The soldier went to do as he was bid, while Blaine and the others followed Nidhud as he wound through the camp. One glance at Verran showed that he was eager to go join the musicians, and that Piran was already sizing up the opportunities to lift a pint or two.

“It’s not going to take all of us to brief Penhallow,” Blaine said with a tired grin. “I can tell Piran wants to head into the thick of things. Go ahead. Connor and I can make the report.” He chuckled. “Besides, I figure you’ll gather as much information as I will, and we can fill each other in later.”

“I’ll stay with you,” Kestel announced, slipping her arm through his.

“I want to hear what happened while we were in Valshoa,” Dawe said.

“So do I,” Verran added. “We can catch up with Piran later – won’t be hard, he’ll be where there’s ale.”

“Frankly, if we’re not needed, I think we would rather rest,” Borya said, and the others nodded.

Nidhud nodded. “I can arrange that.” He spoke to another soldier, who nodded quickly and motioned for Zaryae and the twins to follow him.

Blaine and the others struggled to keep up with Nidhud’s pace as they wound through the camp. The night air was cold and smelled of smoke, ale, leather, and unwashed bodies.
Not too different from Edgeland
, Blaine thought.

Nidhud ushered them into Niklas’s tent and bade them sit. They found places near the small brazier that heated the tent. “Rest. Warm yourselves,” Nidhud invited. “The soldier should be here soon with your dinner. Niklas and Penhallow won’t be long.”

“Actually, I’m here,” Niklas said, grinning as Nidhud stepped aside to let him enter. Blaine and the others stood, and Niklas embraced Blaine in a bear hug, then shook hands with Connor, Dawe, and Verran and made a courtly bow to Kestel that drew a chuckle. He turned his attention back to Blaine.

“Damn! I’m glad to see you in one piece!” Niklas gestured for them to sit down. He looked to Nidhud. “Did you send for food and drink?”

Nidhud nodded. “Aye.”

Niklas gave Blaine and the others a measuring gaze. “You made it back alive,” he said. “And the magic is restored. Our healers knew the instant it changed. That’s how we were sure you’d succeeded.” He met Blaine’s gaze. “Without the healing magic, we would have lost a lot more men. Thank you.”

Blaine shrugged. “Restored, at least in part, and at least for now.”

“A partial victory is still a victory,” Niklas replied.

Nidhud returned with Penhallow and a stocky man Blaine did not recognize. “May I present Traher Voss,” Nidhud said, and the man nodded in acknowledgement. In the lantern light, Blaine took a good look at the four men. Nidhud and Penhallow had no visible injuries, but Blaine knew how quickly
talishte
healed. Niklas sported fresh gashes and bruises and his left eye was purpled.

“How bad was it?” Blaine asked, meeting Niklas’s gaze.

Niklas paused as two soldiers brought a pot of stew, trenchers of bread, and buckets of ale and the newcomers helped themselves. “Could have been worse,” he said, accepting a cup of ale that Kestel poured for him. “Would have been a lot worse if Voss’s men hadn’t shown up when they did.”

“Leave it to Traher to make a dramatic entrance,” Penhallow observed, but there was a note of affection in his voice.