The Northern Approach (62 page)

Raeln shook off his surprise and ran toward Dalania, with the others following. The priestess ran with him, dropping to all fours to keep up with his longer stride. It did not take long before Dalania spotted them and waved them on as she untied the horses. As she did, Raeln saw Gunari step away from the wall, looking first at Dalania, then toward their approaching group. He looked right at Raeln and then turned toward the Turessian.

“Liris!” the gypsy shouted, bringing the Turessian woman to a stop. “They’re here!”

Raeln ran as hard as he could, closing the distance to the horses and going right on past as the others stopped to grab reins. He raced toward Gunari, hoping he could reach the man before he had drawn too much attention. After that, he would worry about getting the gate open so the others could escape, with or without him. It was only when he passed the horses that he realized the Kerrelin priestess was still right with him, keeping pace.

“I will deal with the gates!” she called out before breaking away from Raeln. She headed straight for the soldiers, who were mostly watching the battle between the undead and priests south of the gate.

The Turessian, Liris, had seen them, though her zombies were occupied with the werewolves. She glanced in their direction, apparently deciding it was for the best to keep the wolves busy before she ran toward the gate on an intercept path to meet Raeln.

Gunari continued to shout for the Turessian, but he soon seemed to realize Raeln was coming for him rather than trying to flee. Drawing a sword, he braced himself to strike, waiting for Raeln to get close enough.

Raeln ran straight at the man, and at the last moment, he threw himself backward into a slide feetfirst. The gypsy swung his sword where Raeln should have been a half second before Raeln’s feet crashed into his shins, toppling him. Rolling out from under the man and onto his back, Raeln grabbed Gunari’s head to brace it and slammed his knee down on his neck. The man went immediately limp, dropping his weapon, which Raeln picked up as he turned to survey the gate for any way he could help.

The priestess had not only reached the gate, but she had literally run up the wall and onto the battlements, her claws tearing into the stone to allow her to climb. From what Raeln could see, the soldiers there were not even remotely arguing, instead running to the crank for the large gate and raising it. Two out of the dozens of soldiers up there had dropped their weapons and lowered their heads rather than face the priestess. No one seemed willing to look directly at her…which Raeln took to mean that they already either knew or suspected what she was, given how the priests were treated in town.

Turning back toward the stables, Raeln watched as his companions rode in his direction. They would arrive in seconds, but so would Liris. The horses would have to pass almost alongside the woman to get out, and Raeln knew she was too deadly to risk that. Walking to a spot inside the city but centered in the open gate, he prepared to meet the Turessian head-on to keep her from reaching the others. He had fought her before and walked away, so there was a chance he could do it again. He just had to convince himself that he had done it the last time on his own, rather than with a great deal of help from Dalania.

Both the horses and the Turessian were close, maybe three seconds, Raeln figured. Raising his sword, he prepared to do anything he could to slow Liris. He only needed to hold her back a few extra seconds and the others would be outside the city and able to ride far faster than she could run.

From far above the Kerrelin priestess leapt from the wall, landing with a crash on all fours beside Raeln. She stood slowly, her joints cracking loudly as they mended whatever injuries she might have suffered. “Go with them!” she snarled, but Raeln had no time to pay attention.

Sweeping with his sword and ducking under a blast of chill wind the Turessian had summoned, Raeln slashed across her body twice as he repositioned himself between her and the gate. From the corner of his vision, he saw the six horses race past and out onto the flat lands outside.

“I said go!” the priestess shouted, grabbing Raeln by the arm and neck. Hoisting him off the ground easily, she threw him out of the gate.

Crashing to the ground, winding him, Raeln tried to stand, but the world felt as though it was spinning. All he could make out was the priestess pointing up at the wall a second before the gate crashed down.

Liris bounced off the metal bars, screaming angrily. Slowly, she composed herself and turned to face the werewolf coming for her. The two of them smashed into the gate, the priestess driving Liris hard enough into the metal that the portcullis bars bent. They then stumbled away from the gate, swinging and clawing at one another, leaving the area Raeln could see.

Raeln turned and saw Yoska was riding over to him with an unmanned horse. The man offered Raeln the reins, saying nothing, while the shouts and snarls coming from the city said more than enough.

Looking up at the walls, Raeln saw not all of the soldiers were watching the battle inside. A few saluted him as they saw him look their way, before turning back to the chaos inside Jnodin. From what he could see, archers were focusing their fire on Liris and her undead.

“We need to catch up with Estin,” Raeln said out loud, though partially to prod himself to start moving. “He has an hour or two head start.”

“More,” replied Yoska, once Raeln and pulled himself up onto his horse. “Dalania spoke with stable hands. They saw priests sneak out just after sunrise. Estin likely has three hours on us, as I do not see him anywhere out here.”

Raeln turned his horse and looked out over the plains north of the city. The rocky and flat expanse outside the walls continued for perhaps a mile before gradually becoming less black and more white as a dusting of snow coated the ground. Everything past that point for as far as he could see was white. Even the horizon was a whitish grey, likely from a snowstorm in that direction. The only thing that broke up the constant blinding white was a single hill two or three miles north of town along the road, which had not been fully coated in snow yet. A few clouds of steam from something warm out on the plains also drew his eye briefly.

Before Raeln could suggest riding out in that direction, Yoska said, “Hill is very close to road and may not be best place to hide. There are also tracks of horses headed that way, which would not be Estin. Lady and magic green man are looking for Estin’s tracks, but they are already covered by snow. He may need to find us, yes?”

Looking up at the grey sky, Raeln wondered if Estin would live that long without supplies. It was not a thought he wanted to share with the others. So long as Estin remained near the city, he might have a chance, but if he was out in that storm, Raeln hoped he had plenty of warm clothes.

“Let’s get away from the city before Liris gets out,” Raeln said and flicked his reins to get his horse moving.

They would not be able to stay long, he knew. Liris would chase them to the ends of Eldvar, given the chance. That meant whether or not Estin was waiting for them, they would soon have to move on, if only to keep her away from Estin.

*

The four of them waited until well into the afternoon, hidden off of the road where the slope of the hill hid them from the gates. Raeln had lain in the snow with On’esquin for hours, watching the entire region of the road, from the gates to the horizon, trying to spot any movement. There had been nothing.

The city seemed to be tearing itself apart from within. Not a single person had come out of the gate in hours, and around midday, thin streams of smoke had begun to appear beyond the walls. Raeln had seen no indication of who might be winning, but he had no desire to be anywhere near the place, given the factions involved. Eventually, he had to believe that the Turessians would win out, no matter what the defending force might be like.

“We will need to get on the road before sunset,” On’esquin said suddenly, standing up. Snow fell off of his armor in clumps, but he did nothing to remove the pile that had stopped melting atop his head. “He will either catch up or he will find his own way. Estin is a survivor and I trust that we will see him again. I would not want to be caught out here when the warmth of the sun is gone and neither will he.”

Raeln scanned the flat lands one more time and sighed, pressing his face in the snow to keep from having to stare at the white expanse any longer. He could not go on knowing Estin was out there somewhere, but he had no real choice. Like so many other things, he knew he would have to contain his fears of letting another person die and try not to think about it.

“How far up the road is Turessi?” Raeln asked, standing. Looking back to where the horses waited, he saw Yoska and Dalania huddling separately under heavy blankets, trying to stay warm. At second glance, he realized that Dalania was not shivering…she simply looked move comfortable under the blanket, whereas Yoska appeared to be half-frozen.

“Two weeks of daily travel, maybe less. However, that is something else I wished to speak with you about, Raeln. We are not going to Turessi first.”

“Excuse me?” Raeln demanded, rounding on On’esquin. “Months, you’ve been talking about going there. Where exactly do you think we’re going?”

On’esquin lowered his eyes. “Eventually…Turessi. First, I wish to visit the grave of an old friend. We will lose no more than one…maybe two…days. That is, assuming the weather is kind.”

“That’s still asking a lot, On’esquin.”

“We’ve all lost people,” the orc countered. “I buried the man myself and have not been able to give my respects for centuries. As I am the only one left in the world who knows where he is buried, this is not something I can set aside easily. It may be the last chance for anyone to mourn him.”

“Turess?” asked Raeln, starting to understand. Without thinking, he scratched at the bracelet he wore…another reminder of Turess.

“Yes. I could not risk his remains falling into Dorralt’s possession, so I went against our custom and burned his body before I buried his bones far from civilization. I simply wish to say good-bye and we can go on.”

Giving the plains one more sweep, Raeln dearly wished Estin would show himself, but the man was nowhere to be found. Without any reason to stay, Raeln reluctantly nodded. “You will have your good-byes,” he told On’esquin, heading back to the horses.

Even as the horses set off on the crunching ground toward the north, Raeln remained turned in his saddle for more than an hour, searching for anything that might be lost friends or approaching enemies.

“A Good Memory”

With Turess’s death, I find myself torn between grief and rage. His last words were nonsense, half-mad ramblings of someone who has lost everything, starting with his trust in others. Even his last words hint at madness, in that he told me he will see me soon…clearly he does not understand what is happening to him. His death is his wife’s fault, and for that I will never forgive her, but it is his brother that now tears the empire apart with his lust for power.

I must flee this place before Dorralt comes for me. The others are being rounded up and executed if they do not support his rise to leadership of Turess’s empire. After all he has done, I cannot endorse him, no matter the risk. Thousands will die if I rise up against him. I can only hope that he will spare them if I am long-gone by the time he arrives.

Today, I must make a choice. I could fight my way to my family to ensure that they escape, at the risk of drawing attention to them. I am also duty-bound to keep Turess’s remains from Dorralt. With Turess’s animated corpse at his side, Dorralt would be nearly impossible to oppose, as even those who doubt him would see him as Turess’s chosen successor. Only those of us who were at his side in these last days know the truth.

My love, my children, my clan…forgive me. Duty has always commanded my actions. If and when I can return, I will.

-
         
Notes at the end of the lost prophecies of Turess

“This will have to do,” Estin said, helping Feanne into the small cavelike crack in the stone ground a little more than an hour northwest of the city.

The entire region seemed to be lined with deep caves and cracks that poured warm air into the sky, melting off much of the snow near the city. Those holes appeared to be filled in by the citizenry every so often to minimize spots where their archers could not fire. As such, finding one deep enough to fit both of them had been a difficult matter, taking them several hours of hunting after the snows had started. When Estin had found this one, he had been more than thankful as warm air poured out of it from one of many hot-air vents that came from deep underground. He had hardly leaned into the opening before the snow melted into his robe, making him shiver all the more.

Feanne was doing better, but she was still weak. As Estin had noted over the previous weeks, she was simply not healing even as well as an average person, let alone as quickly as she once had. Even with the healing Rishad had given, she tired rapidly, made worse by the cold winds coming in from the west. For a while she had tried to refuse Estin’s help, but as she grew more tired with each hour they were walking, she had finally leaned on him for support, though he was in little better shape. If nothing else the support he gave her also allowed them both a bit more warmth.

“What about the others?” asked Feanne, putting a hand on the wall of the small cave to steady herself. She looked to be nearly ready to fall over from exhaustion, and her priestly robes were soaked with melting snow that had been starting to freeze before they had found the shelter. Now the cold water getting into their fur made even the warm cave feel as bad as the wind and snow outside.

“I haven’t seen anyone leave the gates since we made it outside,” he said, though he left out that he had lost sight of the gate almost an hour earlier in their efforts to find cover. Half the city could have ridden forth and he would have no idea. What he really had no desire to tell her was the others would have already ridden on hours earlier, according to their plan. “Our friends will come looking for us. Worry about staying warm, not what they’re doing. It might take some time.”

Feanne climbed slowly into the cave, her paws slipping on the damp and broken floor, sending her tumbling forward. Estin only barely managed to catch her before she crashed onto the stones, and working together, they both soon reached the bottom of the steep drop-off, where the floor was somewhat more flat.

Looking up at the sliver of light above them, Feanne shivered uncontrollably. “We have done this before? Not here, but somewhere?”

“Lived through a snowstorm? A few times,” he admitted, glad she could not see his quickly hidden grin very easily in the dark. There were some good memories he had to put aside from the last time they had been forced to hide in a cave. They were not ones he wanted to discuss with a female only just starting to tolerate him and had only a few memories of her past, few of which were good. There was certainly no sense in admitting the first time they had lain together had been in a cave like this one. “We lived in the mountains. This is barely worthy of being called a storm. I remember plenty of times that ice formed on my nose, even hiding inside a tent.”

Feanne sat down on the stones, while Estin unpacked what few supplies they had. He found the pack he had been given by the priests contained several day’s worth of food and water, as well as two thick blankets, tightly rolled to fit into the pack. Those he pulled out and handed to Feanne, who wrapped one around herself tightly, leaving little more than her eyes and nose poking out.

Smiling at her, thinking of how rarely she had allowed herself to look weak—or “cute” as Estin had called it exactly once in front of the kits before being punched hard—Estin struggled to keep his mind on unpacking the large bag. With memories plaguing him, he worked harder than he should have had to in draping the second blanket over the rocks, blocking out much of the winds from outside. With even the small barrier, the ambient heat in the cave began to quickly warm them, though so too did the stench of sulfur. He stepped back, trying to judge whether there was anything else he could do to keep the place warm without trapping the fumes.

“Ouch,” Feanne muttered behind him, and when Estin looked back, she was picking a jagged stone out from under her tail and tossing it aside.

“Ouch?”

Feanne stared at him like he had lost his mind. Slowly, understanding seemed to dawn on her and she smiled slightly. “Since I woke, I have started feeling things. Not much, but the cold was the first I noticed.”

“That’s a good sign,” he replied, sitting down across from her. Despite being as soaked as she was, he was fine with letting the warm air dry his fur. They had survived with less in the wilderness near Altis, and he knew she would be in far worse shape. “Any other memories coming back?”

“Flashes and emotions, but nothing I can sort out,” she told him, scooting over and throwing the blanket over his shoulder so they both huddled under it. “I am starting to understand, though.”

“Understand what?”

“Why I put up with you in the past,” she said, though Estin thought she was joking at first. Her expression was far too serious and he had to swallow a laugh. “You had no reason to save me. I have been nothing but trouble since you brought me back.”

“Honestly…that’s not new. We have always kind of driven each other crazy.”

Feanne smiled and stifled a shiver. Peeking over at Estin, she said, “I know you are hiding a lot from me that you think I am not ready to hear. I can see it in your eyes. You even enlisted the others in hiding things from me.”

“Your father was also really good at seeing people who weren’t telling the full truth.”

Feanne’s eyes narrowed. “You are trying to change the topic.”

“What would you do in my place, if the knowledge you have could scare off someone you don’t want to see get hurt? If that person wasn’t ready to hear the full truth of what you know?”

“I would trust that if they meant anything to me, they would sort it out eventually.”

Estin lowered his eyes, feeling ashamed of his reluctance to let Feanne know everything. He simply could not believe she could handle knowing she was the mother of five…and his mate. For all her progress, that was a large leap that might be too much for her to deal with. Worse yet, it might push her away again.

Putting a hand to Estin’s cheek, Feanne turned him to look her in the eyes. “If you cannot put to words what you need to say, please show me,” she said, nuzzling his other cheek. “I lack memories, not understanding of feelings. It would keep us warm, at least.”

Putting an arm around her, clinging and not wanting to ever let her go again, Estin struggled to keep himself from thinking she was still the same female he had been with for years. Without her memories she was a new person with an old face. It was painful to think that way, but he finally pulled away from her and sunk his face in his hands, trying to ignore the racing of his heart.

“What’s wrong?” Feanne asked, sitting forward so she was close to him again. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, it’s not you,” he answered, though he could not look her in the eye when he said it. “I…I can’t do this.”

“There is another female,” said Feanne a moment later, sitting back. “You have a mate. I do not remember details…Lorne? The name makes me think she was a rival for your affection. She was your mate? You and I may have argued over this before. Was I as foolish in trying to lure you as I was with Raeln?”

Estin managed to keep from bursting into hysterical laughter. Lorne had not even crossed his mind since her death, minutes before he and Feanne had fallen through the mists to the place where Raeln had found them. The female—of the same breed as Estin—had tried to push him away from Feanne, and when that had failed, she had bargained with the Turessian Arturis to have Feanne killed. She had died brutally at Arturis’s hands.

“No, I can assure you Lorne was not my mate,” Estin answered, once he was sure he could say it without laughing. Memories of Feanne very nearly killing Lorne for trying to intrude on their relationship came to mind unbidden. “There is a female I’m sworn to, though. I promised my life to her.”

Sliding onto the floor of the cave, leaving the blanket across Estin’s shoulders, Feanne knelt in front of him so she could look up into his face. “She meant a lot to you?”

Estin nodded and tried to look away, but Feanne pulled his face back.

“She meant everything to me,” he said once he knew she would not let it drop. “When she was gone, all I could think of was how I…I wouldn’t ever hear her voice again. I wouldn’t smell her with me when I woke. I wouldn’t see her hold our—she was gone. Every good memory would die with me. She had left, forever.”

Reaching up, Feanne ran her claws through Estin’s fur, the sharp tips brushing against his scars. Scars he received fighting to secure her place in her father’s pack and to save the lives of their children. Smiling tenderly, she said, “The ones we love are never truly gone, Estin. They live on with us, until they know that we have moved on to be complete without their presence. So long as you still need her, I am certain she is with you. She would never abandon one so loyal to her.”

Estin put his hand over hers, thankful for the contact even if he could not tell her the truth. Soon, he promised himself…once she had remembered more on her own.

“Tell me about her,” Feanne asked him a moment later, tracing one of his facial scars with the flat of her claw. Without warning she snatched the blanket from him, wrapping it back around herself, once again leaving only her muzzle and eyes peeking out. “And tell me how you got those scars. Those and the ones on your arm and stomach.”

Estin smiled and watched as Feanne settled down on the floor in front of him to listen. He knew he would have to answer as best he could without giving away too much, though he felt somewhat foolish speaking about things she was a part of as though they were someone else.

“The facial scars…those were from before she was my mate. Big brute of a wolf wildling gave them to me…even bigger than Raeln. He tried to kill my mate and very nearly succeeded. He had already threatened other members of the pack, but this was the first time he had taken action against us. She couldn’t officially name me her mate because I was viewed as weak by the other wildlings. Beating him got me respect…and her. The scars are actually a good memory in that respect.”

“The other scars were from the same fight?”

“No, there have been a lot of fights over the years. The ones on my arm…those are something else. The one on my stomach was an accident that reminds me that even those we love can hurt us deeply when they don’t mean to.”