Shadow Of The Mountain (15 page)

None returned.

“A thousand men,” she whispered.

Talia closed her eyes, pushing the black thoughts away.

The army had been assembled and another apparent battle was nearing. This time, it would be at Goridai.

Her husband was bound by duty to go. She understood. Duty, honor, and brotherhood. Those were the laws of this land. She had married the king’s champion and, though his love for her was great, one thing was made clear when they were wed: Kreiden was the champion first and a husband second.

His life was bound to Amoria and the sword, to war. That he loved her, there was no question. Her marriage was a colossal source of happiness and her husband was the finest man she’d ever met. Never before had she loved another the way she loved Kreiden. But unfortunately for Talia, he was more than just a man. He was the king’s man, and fighting for the king was his life. She had made peace with that, but it was still a constant struggle. And often it was downright frightening.

Fighting in duels for Healianos had become a rarity for her husband. He had been challenged twice during their eight years of marriage by unaffiliated groups of soldiers, and on each occasion Talia had been terrified. On both days she had refused to attend, instead remaining at home to worry and wait.

Almost ten years earlier the realm of Calconia had collapsed under the combined weight of the Amorian and Gallan forces. With their government in ruin and army in disarray, the nation was split apart and its remnants annexed into the surrounding borderlines. Amorian officials estimated that close to twenty thousand Calconian soldiers were disbanded, with many taking to the vast Killian Forest that stretched from the rim of the Goridai Flats all the way north to the Teserian Hills.

And what else would such men turn to for a living other than violence?

Mercenary groups soon sprung up all over Endura. Some were mere nuisances, but others would often grow to great size, lead by charismatic men whom others would flock to for purpose. Her husband’s most recent challenger had been made by a collection of mercenary groups that had combined into one such force over several years. They called themselves the Raegun and had unwisely pillaged an Amorian village. While the Raegun’s numbers were nowhere near that of the Amorian force, the mercenary band had kept to the thick forest, vanishing into its depths before a proper pursuit could ever be mounted.

After a minor skirmish in the countryside, a handful of the mercenaries had been captured by the Amorian soldiers. The Raegun’s leader, a ragged man named Huegar, had responded by sacking a settlement on the outskirts of Panea, taking hostages of his own. Negotiations for the captives’ release on both sides had gone awry and a challenge was made.

Kreiden was said to have fought a sword fighter nearly twice his weight and a full head taller than him. Supposedly, the duel had lasted twelve seconds and the Amorian villagers were released.

Her husband and Healianos had destroyed the Raegun a week later with a party of Amorian youths fresh out of the academies and a small cavalry division. Roving bands of mercenaries had given their nation a wide birth from then on.

She thought back to the afternoon before Kreiden had left with the army for Goridai. They had relaxed under the shade of a peach tree in the courtyard, listening to the babbling water from the manmade stream flowing through the garden. The sun was shining and large clusters of clouds filled the sky.

“Where do you think they come from?” she had asked, her head resting against her husband’s chest.

“Not much is known about them, save they’re from the far south and their numbers are great,” Kreiden told her. “And they’ve been burning the ships that brought them here. Thousands of them.”

“What do you suppose it means?”

“I don’t know, but wherever they’re from, it seems they don’t intend to return.”

“I was always told that the far south was a wasteland. No army can march across the Sand Vale. There’s no water, just rocks and dust.”

“They seem to have found a way,” was all he said, scratching his chin. “The rumor is that the Danaki have returned, angry with the realm for our sins.”

“Our sins? You mean the sins of men three hundred years gone. We never did anything to those poor people. They were dabbling on the fringes of magic and the disease they released crippled the land.”

“We both know the tale,” he reminded her calmly. Natalia had lapsed into silence.

“All those people,” she said. “All those women and children…”

“The Pestilent War was a terrible time.”

“But banishment from the entire realm?” she asked. “It is unthinkable today, forcing an entire population out to sea.”

Natalia felt him sigh, knowing full well he’d rather be discussing anything else. She changed the subject.

“Did they truly kill one of our dragons? The Volrathi?”

“Desik saw it with his own eyes.”

“And does that not frighten you?”

“A dead dragon does not frighten me,” he told her, running a hand through her dark hair. “There are others in the fleet. Draxakis will be with us when we march. He owns the sky we live beneath. You mustn’t worry yourself.”

She sat up and turned, looking him in the eye. “Mustn’t worry? Of course I worry! I worry about you!”

Kreiden smiled at her and pulled her in for a kiss. “I know you do, but you worry too much.”

“A wife can never worry too much.” She settled back down against his chest, feeling his strong heartbeat. She remembered wanting to freeze that moment and keep him there forever.

“You knew many of the men who were sent out into the desert, didn’t you?” Talia felt him pause before answering.

“Yes,” he told her. “Some I knew very well, since I was just a boy.”

“I’m sorry, Kreiden,” she said softly. “I never had the chance to tell you. Everything has been so hectic the last few days.”

“I know,” he told her, kissing the top of her head. “I’m sorry, too.”

For a long time they had laid together, hands entwined, saying nothing. Talia loved him so much; just to share the silence with him was enough to fill her heart with happiness.

“How long will you be gone?” she had finally asked, worried about the response.

“I’m not sure,” he answered. “There was a time when I would be away for months, but campaigns haven’t been that lengthy for years. Healianos is risking nothing and we are taking the entire army. I can’t remember when last a force of such size was assembled against an enemy. If we march against them at Goridai, the ensuing battle would be decisive. It could all be over in a matter of days.”

“Over for them or over for us?”

“Point taken,” he said, stretching his arms in a yawn. “But again, you should try not to worry. We’ll be taking more than one dragon and a thousand men, that’s for certain. I’ll be back in your arms as soon as I can.”

“You better be,” she squeezed him tighter. Talia had rolled over then, looking into her husband’s eyes. “Promise me you will return.” He began to protest, but she pressed a finger against his lips. “Just say the words and I’ll feel better. No man can defeat you in battle. I know this. You were meant to carry a sword. But you were also meant to be with me, to give us sons. So you must return to me. It is our destiny.” Her husband had looked into her eyes.

“I promise. No man will stop me from returning to you.”

They had kissed then and relaxed in the soft grass until the sun set.

And that was the last night they’d had together. Her husband had left with the army the next morning.

Talia felt herself begin to cry. She slid beneath the bath water again, holding her breath.

Something was wrong, she could feel it. He had ridden off to battle before, but this was different somehow. She couldn’t explain it, but there was a darkness that was settling, like a cold you couldn’t feel. A shadow in the night.

Exhaling all the air from her lungs, she held herself underwater, feeling her chest burn before rising up into the cool air. When she emerged, Karin was standing before her.

There was a sullen look on her handmaiden’s face and Talia immediately sat up with a splash.

“What is it?” she asked. “Is it Orrie? Is she okay?”

“No, Talia, Orrie is just fine,” Karin spoke, seemingly unsure of how to continue. “There is word from the army. The news is…not good. The populace isn’t taking it well. There is talk that Draxakis and the fleet have been killed, and our soldiers routed on the first day of battle. Kreiden sent a message to you.” She held a leather tube out before her.

Talia surged naked out of the water and rushed towards her handmaiden.

“Impossible,” she said, taking the note.

Karin wrapped a large towel around her mistress as she popped the top off the leather tube and tapped the small note into her palm. Her hands shook as she unrolled the thin paper, eyes hard.

The bathroom was so quiet that drops of water could be heard falling from her body to the floor.

After a moment, she let go of the message, letting it flutter to the marble near her feet.

“Release the servants and give them a year’s salary,” she heard her voice speak vacantly. “We are leaving Corda.”

Wrapping the towel around herself more securely, she strode away.

Karin stood alone in the bathing room for a several heartbeats. Finally, she bent down and carefully peeled the message off the wet marble. The words were difficult to discern, but she was able to decipher them. Her heart nearly broke:

Goridai is lost. Must break my promise and stay to the end. Leave Corda at once. Love you always. –K

***

Talia stalked into the master bedroom and slammed the large double doors shut, sending a thundering crack through the spacious manor. She picked up an ivory comb and violently brushed her hair in front of a long mirror as tears streamed down her face. The dragons were gone and the army nearly destroyed? All in a matter of days?

And now her husband was gone too, left to fight and die for a country that may not even exist in a week or month. How could so much go wrong in such a short amount of time?

“Damn it, Kreiden,” she sobbed. “This was never supposed to happen. This can’t be happening.”

She stormed around the room, pulling the comb through her hair harder, yanking it through the knots.

“
This can’t be happening!
” she shrieked.

The towel fell from her body as she hurled the ivory comb at the mirror, shattering it to pieces. She screamed once more, a high-pitched wail of frustration and agony. The doors swung open and Karin rushed into the room, wrapping her once more in the towel.

“I’m sorry, Natalia,” she said, bringing the slender princess into her arms, stroking her hair. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Talia’s anger melted to sobs, and after long minutes even those drifted off to quiet tears. The two moved to the large bed set against the wall, easing onto the soft mattress.

Karin pulled a blanket over them both, but Talia raised a hand.

“Leave me,” she said, the words feeling harsh, much harsher then she intended. “Please?”

“Are you certain? I can stay, Natalia. It is no trouble.”

“I know, Karin.” She wiped the sadness from her face, trying her best to smile. “It’s all right. I’ll be fine. I just need to be alone now.” Then, “I’m sorry I broke the mirror.”

“Oh, sweet girl!” Karin’s eyes misted over, bringing her into another embrace. “You have nothing to be sorry for! I’d bring all the mirrors in the house up for you to break if I thought it’d make you feel better. I’ll pick up the pieces and leave you to rest.” Talia settled into bed, bringing the blanket up to her shoulders.

“Leave it. I’ll clean up when I wake.”

“Of course,” Karin said. “I’ll be right down the hall if you need me.” Giving Talia’s shoulder a gentle pat, Karin left her to rest.

As soon as the doors clicked shut, Talia swung the blankets away and sat up at the edge of the bed. Her mind was spinning. She felt dizzy and sick, the air in the room feeling too thin, too stagnant. She gripped her hair, pulling so tight that some came away in her hands.

What was she to do now? What was she without her husband?

Kreiden was everything to her. He was the light in her life that showed her the way and the crutch she leaned against to get there. They belonged to each other, and now nothing made sense. Nothing fit.

“This is wrong,” she whispered. The words came up through the tears in a gurgled mess. “This is
wrong.
”

Lying back on the bed, she closed her eyes. His face grew in her mind, warm and happy at first. The twisted tendrils of his golden hair were alive with light and his smile spread wide, burning a hole right through to her heart.

But slowly, to her horror, the image began to change. His expression deteriorated until there was no life remaining in his vacant gaze and no color to his skin. His pallor was that of a corpse, gray and gaunt, an empty shell of flesh, like once-magnificent armor left out to rust and corrode with no warrior left to wear it.

“
I promise. No man will stop me from returning to you.
”

Talia opened her eyes and sat up. She knew sleep would not come. And even if it did, the dreams would be nightmares.

She tiptoed naked past the broken shards of mirror to a polished armoire. Opening a narrow drawer near the bottom, she removed a vial containing the Garik extract used to help her sleep. Holding the tinted glass against a window open to the afternoon air, she saw that it was more than half gone.

She needed to rest.

Opening the vial, she held it up to the window again, hands trembling, watching the liquid within roll and sway like a turbulent sea.

Removing a thin brush from the drawer, she dipped it into the extract and dabbed it on her tongue. The taste was sharp and bitter and the opiate spread a tingling sensation through her mouth, all the way down her throat.

“This is…a nightmare,” she whispered hoarsely.

Twice more she dipped the brush and brought it to her mouth.

Then a fourth time.

Followed by a fifth.

She was taking too much, but her mind didn’t notice and her heart didn’t care.