Daughter of Light (Follower of the Word Book 1) Page 13

  What did Corin desire so desperately from the northern kingdoms? Land? Slaves? Power? He shook his head. He had no idea, and perhaps he did not care so long as his time here was short. Let Corin run his country, his war, his whatever as he liked. Caleb wanted as little to do with it as possible. He was interested only in his payment when the job was done.

  • • •

  The next day, Caleb stood waiting in the back of the commander’s tent. A glass of wine sat untouched on the table in the middle of the tent. Commander Arpiar’s round lens and map were also on the table. Arpiar stood by the entrance, watching the activity in the pass.

  Caleb rubbed the back of his neck. Another night of no sleep. Maybe it was this place, surrounded by war and blood and death. He needed to get away, get back to Azar. There, he had ways of coping with these dreams—

  Movement near the front caught his attention. Another runner. Caleb silently made his way to the front.

  “… and then the northerners turned and ran. Captain Falun is in pursuit and already through the pass. Captain Kolin is close behind, along with Captain Murik.”

  Commander Arpiar leaned against the tent and ran a hand across his face. “It worked.” He looked back at the runner. “Go tell the other captains who have not yet entered Hershaw Pass to ready their troops. We march now.”

  “Yes, Commander.” The runner gave a quick bow and left.

  “What worked?” Caleb said, coming to stand by Arpiar.

  Arpiar stared at the pass. “I secretly sent a unit to the town of Menes over to the east. Their mission was to get over the mountains and spring a surprise attack from the rear while we kept the northerners occupied in the pass. It was a long shot. I wasn’t sure if they would even find a way over the mountains. I hadn’t heard from them in weeks. So when the time came to begin the battle, I took a risk that the other unit would be ready.” He let out a long sigh. “And it paid off.”

  “And if it hadn’t?” Caleb asked.

  “Then I would have thrown a lot of lives away these last couple of days, just like the commanders before me. And lost. But where they failed, I have succeeded. You will take note of this, I trust.”

  Caleb turned and watched the pyres burning in the distance. The smell of smoke and burnt flesh drifted on the breeze. The scent made him feel slightly nauseous. He coughed and covered his nose until the breeze passed.

  “I’m impressed, Commander Arpiar,” Caleb said once he could breathe. “Lord Corin will be pleased.”

  The grim smile on Arpiar’s face morphed into a scowl. “It’s not over yet.” He looked at Caleb. “This war has cost many Temanins their lives. I’m merely trying to get through it before losing every man under my command. The surprise attack served that purpose.” He turned toward Hershaw Pass. “Nothing more.”

  • • •

  The Temanin army pushed its way through Hershaw the rest of the day, with everything the empire could shove through it. While the main army poured through the pass, the surprise attack force came from behind. So between the two, Temanin shattered the northern resistance. What had kept the two sides apart for hundreds of years was crushed under the boots of Temanin soldiers in a day.

  But that was only one victory. Now Temanin had to keep the pass and gain a foothold in the north. This was where Arpiar would rise or fall. And Caleb was here to make sure he rose.

  Temanin soldiers continued to pour into the maw, moving more quickly now that death no longer rained down from the high cliffs above, quite possibly marching toward another death, this one on the battlefield on the other side of the pass. Temanin might hold Hershaw Pass now, but Hadrast Fortress waited for them on the other side.

  Caleb stood near Arpiar and his personal company of soldiers. They waited just outside the pass for their turn to enter. The sun began to set to his left, a glowing ball of red. Shadows filled the pass. Caleb swept a hand across his chest and checked his sides. His daggers were ready should they meet anyone inside.

  “Such a waste,” Caleb heard Commander Arpiar mutter. More Temanin soldiers marched by. “All those men, and for what?”

  Caleb took a step closer, and immediately Commander Arpiar went silent. Words like those could be considered seditious. But for once Caleb agreed with Arpiar, so he made no comment. The last few days had given him a new perspective on death. Men were tossed into the pass only to be dragged out later, dead or dying. Healers scurried about, their robes red with blood as they tried to aid their fellow man, only to have the cycle start again with a new batch of soldiers.

  For the first time in his life, Caleb felt sickened by it all.

  But soon he would be done with this place. He would accompany Commander Arpiar through the pass, ensure Hadrast Fortress was taken, then go back to Azar. And wash away every single memory of this place.

  A soldier approached Arpiar. “Sir, we can go now.”

  “Then let’s go.” Commander Arpiar proceeded toward the pass, his personal company of soldiers following closely around him. Caleb followed a few steps behind.

  Weapons flashed in the dying light. The soldiers ahead of them charged into the dark and smoke-filled pass, ready to join in the battle being fought on the other side. The echo of their boots bounced along the jagged walls, sounding like a thunderous legion.

  Commander Arpiar followed the next wave, his company of soldiers pressing close to him, ready to defend their commander if need be. Caleb stayed close, as well. Moments later, they entered the Pass.

  It took a moment for Caleb’s eyes to adjust to the dark. Then the smell hit him. Burnt flesh and blood filled his nostrils. He choked, the smell overwhelming him. Another couple of steps, and the scent of tar mixed with the scent of human flesh. His stomach lurched, threatening to bring up everything inside. Others around him coughed, and one soldier covered his mouth.

  Caleb grabbed a hold of his will and began to breathe through his mouth. The smell slackened. He waited a moment longer until he was certain that he would not lose it in front of the men around him. Then he moved forward.

  His eyes grew more accustomed to the smoke and shadows the deeper they went. Around him, soldiers picked their way around the bodies of their more unfortunate comrades. But with the masses behind them pushing them forward, many soldiers found themselves crushing the dead men’s bodies beneath their boots.

  Caleb swallowed and passed one dead soldier. The man was half burnt, his hands raised in horror. After seeing a couple more bodies, Caleb felt his body begin to prickle with shock. This was nothing like his solo acts of assassination. Those were neat and clean. What he found here was death in its most gruesome form.

  Something caught Caleb’s foot in the dark, and he tripped. He opened his hands to cushion his fall. When he struck the ground, he felt his hands sink into something wet and sticky. Caleb squinted against the darkness and smoke. He found his hands deep inside the cavity of a dead man’s belly, entrails leaking out. Caleb gasped against the urge to vomit. He pushed against the corpse, his hands sinking deeper in as he tried to gain his footing to stand.

  Under his frantic attempts to get up, the body jostled. The man’s head turned to stare at Caleb, mouth open in an empty scream. Caleb muffled his own shout. He wrenched himself free and jumped to his feet. He backed away from the corpse and began to frantically wipe at the blood that covered his hands. The gag in his throat moved closer toward his lips. Caleb could feel his face paling. He glanced at his hands to see if there was any more blood. He found them still dark with the sticky red substance.

  Caleb wiped harder, sickened by the wet feeling. Assassinations were nothing like this. He rarely got blood on himself during a job.

  “Sir, you all right?”

  Caleb found a soldier staring at him. “Yes,” Caleb said, turning off his feelings. He gave his hands one more wipe and walked away from the corpse. Nearby he heard a soldier retching, the sound adding to the moans of those not quite dead. Right then and there, Caleb decided he hated war.

 
• • •

  It took almost an hour to make it out of the pass. As they neared the north end of the Pass, the mouth widened until the passage gave way to the open.

  Caleb looked up at the sky and breathed in the cool night air, happy to be out of that place. A crescent moon hung in the dark sky, surrounded by tiny bright stars. Thin, naked trees grew to the east. Rolling hills of grass lay to the west. And straight ahead, about a half a league away, beyond the huge bonfires set to light the area, stood Hadrast Fortress.

  Hadrast Fortress was a large stone structure barely visible in the dark save for the fires that burned along its top most battlements. A wave of flame came flying from the fortress. Caleb watched the fire arc in the sky then come pelting down onto the battlefield.

  He heard the cries of surprise and pain echo across the field. Patches of fire sprung up, but were quickly put out.

  More screams and shouts filled the air. Metal clashed with metal.

  Caleb wondered how the men fighting could even see each other? Especially since the Temanin soldiers were dressed in black uniforms. Or was it all just massive chaos? He watched the field for a moment then shrugged and turned to find Commander Arpiar. Not his battle.

  He passed a couple of Temanin soldiers who were busy cutting down the trees and feeding the fires. Others were assembling the healer’s tents. Caleb found Arpiar still standing near one of the tents. His company of soldiers stood around him with swords drawn.

  Caleb moved silently around the back of the men. It wasn’t until he was almost to Commander Arpiar that one of the soldiers realized he was there. Caleb sidestepped the soldier’s swing.

  “Tsk, tsk. You should guard your commander more carefully. Good thing I’m on your side.”

  The soldier scowled at him, but held his sword back this time. Caleb walked by him and joined Arpiar.

  “Was that really necessary?” Arpiar whispered angrily.

  “It proved a point. Never let your guard down.”

  “And don’t trust assassins.”

  Caleb gave Arpiar a slight nod and watched the battle.

  • • •

  The fight raged all through the night and into the next day. In the early morning light, Caleb could distinguish the black-clad Temanin soldiers from the blue and green northerners. Dark clouds gathered overhead. He felt a drop on his face and frowned. He hated the rain.

  Around noon the northern army retreated back to the fortress, but it was no longer a safe haven for them. The Temanin Army vastly outnumbered them, and it took only a couple of runs with the ram to break down the gates.

  As Temanin soldiers scurried into the fortress, Commander Arpiar moved toward the battle, ready to claim victory when the time came. Caleb walked beside him.

  “Congratulations, Commander,” Caleb said as they drew near the walls. The sound of fighting could be heard echoing from deep inside the fortress. “Looks like you did what no one else before you could—you brought us into the north.”

  “Yes.” Commander Arpiar said the word with little emotion. He looked over at Caleb. “Will you be staying with us once Hadrast is taken?”

  “No. My cousin’s orders were to make sure you made it through the pass. And you have. Now I only need to wait for his letter stating that I can return to Azar.”

  “I see.” Commander Arpiar turned back toward the walls. “I’m sure you’re ready to go home.”

  “I am.” More than ready.

  A messenger ran up to Arpiar. “Commander, Captain Falun has taken Hadrast Fortress. The few northerners left have been taken captive, and he is ready for you to come.”

  “Then let him know I will be there shortly.”

  The messenger bowed and left.

  “Well, Caleb, I know you’ve been corresponding with Lord Corin about my work. You can let his lordship know that the pass and fortress are his.” Then in a more quiet tone, Commander Arpiar continued. “But mark my words, Caleb: It will not end here. I saw it with Lord Tarin, and I now see it in his son. This kind of lust for power never dies out, not until every soldier is dead and every land conquered.”

  “Then why do you fight for him?” Caleb countered.

  Commander Arpiar paused. “Because I believe in Temanin. And perhaps I hope that I might save a couple lives by leading these men. Life is precious, not a commodity to be thrown away lightly. Something you might want to think about. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” Commander Arpiar walked off, leaving Caleb to wonder at his words.

  Three days ago those words would have earned Commander Arpiar a warning, or worse. But now, after seeing what he had seen, both in the pass and during the battle, Arpiar’s words gave Caleb pause. Life is precious. He thought about those words a moment more.

  Was it?

  10

  “Don’t scream.”

  Nierne did anyway, her voice muffled between clenched fingers.

  “I told you not to scream,” the man whispered. His hand clamped down harder across her mouth. “You’ll alert the shadows.”

  Nierne swallowed her scream and held her breath.

  “Good, now keep quiet.”

  She looked around frantically. Long shadows filled the forest floor. The wind moaned as it wove its way through the trees. Leaves fluttered into the air. Branches swayed and cracked. Nierne held her breath and stared into the darkness. Could there really be shadows here? This far from Thyra?

  “All right,” the man whispered. “I’m going to let go of you. Don’t do anything rash.” His hand slipped away from her face along with the arm he’d held across her chest.

  Nierne slowly turned around.

  “Are you one of those who escaped from Cragsmoor?” he asked quietly.

  She could barely see the man in the dying light. He was slightly taller than her, broad in the chest, with thick arms that now hung at his side. There was a bald spot at the top of his head. He reminded her of Father Karl.

  “Yes,” she said.

  His shoulders relaxed. “So it worked,” he said more to himself.

  “What worked?”

  “The breakout. Although you’re one of the few to make it outside the city.” He sighed. “We didn’t know about the shadows. Glad I found you.”

  “You’re the one who released us?”

  “One of them. I wasn’t in Cragsmoor itself, just outside the city. I was supposed to guide all of you back here. But the shadows came and captured everyone we had freed. I saw it all happen from my post outside the gate. You’re the only one I’ve found who actually made it. But enough talk. I need to get you back to camp.” The man grabbed her hand. “This way.”

  He led Nierne deep into the forest. Twigs snapped and leaves crunched beneath their feet. Shadows moved around them, making Nierne jump, but the man leading her ignored them.

  After walking for a half hour, the man stopped and made some sort of noise with his voice. The sound reminded Nierne of the little birds Father Reth would take her to watch on the beach when she was young. Moments later, a similar call answered.

  “That is my signal to let the others know it’s me and not a stranger or a Shadonae,” he explained quietly as he led her toward the side of a steep hill covered with trees and brush.

  At the base, he pushed aside the branches from a thick, short tree. Past the brush was a small opening in the hill. “In here,” he said, pulling Nierne in with him.

  For a moment they walked in complete darkness. He gave her hand a squeeze as if to reassure her. “Long ago this place was a silver mine,” he said, his voice echoing strangely in the narrow tunnel. “Now it’s where we live. Those of us who escaped have been holed up here since…well…since that day.” There was a tinge of sadness to his voice, and Nierne suddenly wondered if he had lost family to the Shadonae.

  They walked for a couple more minutes before she saw the faint flicker of light ahead and heard the echo of voices.

  The tunnel opened up into a large cavern with more tunnels leading off in different directions. Long wo
oden beams crisscrossed overhead, holding the earthen ceiling above them. In the middle of the room burned a large bonfire with figures gathered around it. As they drew closer, the scent of roasting meat hit Nierne causing her stomach to tighten in hunger.

  The figures turned toward them.

  “Found one,” her escort said, dropping her hand.

  Nierne looked around. Only a handful of people looked back.

  “You found no one else?” one of the men near the fire said.

  “Just her,” he replied.

  The man who had asked went stone-faced and turned back toward the fire. Apparently he had been hoping to see someone else. Nierne gripped her hands in front of her, suddenly feeling unwanted. These men had risked their lives to rescue family and friends, not some obscure scribe. And yet who had escaped? Her.

  Word, why? Nierne rubbed her hands back and forth. Why did she continue to live? What value was she?

  “Nierne?”

  Her heart did a double beat. It couldn’t be…

  Nierne slowly turned around to find a man standing in one of the tunnels that branched out from the main room. He was older, his white hair cropped closely to his head, a neatly trimmed goatee giving his aged face a look of dignity, brown robes hanging from a timeworn body.

  Father Reth.

  Nierne stared at him, her voice lost in surprise. Then hope came rushing back. “Father Reth!” She took a wobbly step toward him. Emotions rolled inside of her, brewing up, making her eyes water.

  “Nierne!” Father Reth said with a laugh.

  In that moment, seeing Father Reth alive, Nierne felt she could believe anything.