A Darkness Unleashed (Book 2) (19 page)

“And just what point may that be, High Elder?” Captain Ranier’s shadow crept over Maddi. “This hospital has been commissioned by Duke Aginor Varlan, through my battalion of Royal Engineers. Miss Conaleon is in charge of design, as stated specifically by the duke’s charter.” He shot the prior his own dark look. “I don’t know what you’ve been told, but I have copies of that charter in my satchel.”

The elder pulled a scroll from a pouch along his twisted-cord belt. A ribbon of Gannon blue held it with a seal of silver wax stamped with a dragon. He handed it over to Captain Ranier, but he remained fixed on Maddi. “It is an order from King Arathan turning all hospitals and missions created by those under the auspices of the Doctor’s College, over to the control of the Temple of Balance. You will see that it is co-signed by Lord Doctor Tymin Marten. He agrees with His Majesty that it is the role of the Temple to provide healing to the people, while it is the role of those in the College to train new healers.” He waved stubby fingers through the air. “It is simple logic.”

Forcing her frustration down, Maddi looked at Captain Ranier who peered at the paper with suspicion and fear. He shook his head.

“The king signed it this morning,” the prior chanted, almost dancing with glee. “There is nothing to be done. I will take charge of this hospital tomorrow, and you, Captain will be working for me.” He squinted at Maddi and lowered his voice to a deadly tone. “You should not be here.”

“Now, now, Edwyn.” The High Elder folded his hands. “No need to be spiteful. Miss Conaleon understands that she has other callings.” The elder shrugged in a grandfatherly fashion. “Perhaps returning to your home city of Dern would not be an unwise choice.”

The prior’s words at last snapped into Maddi’s brain. “You said the king signed it this morning. When did the Lord Doctor sign it?”

“Why, he signed it this morning as well, in my very presence.” The High Elder cocked his head. “I believe he is taking a tour of some local healing shops within the city as we speak. Do you wish to visit with your old teacher?”

Maddi looked to Captain Ranier. “I have to go.” She ran before he could reply, pushing her legs as fast as she could. Leaping around and sometimes even over the people in the streets, Maddi dashed her way toward Bailey Square. Panicked steps took her on a more direct route than usual, though she still ducked down a couple of side streets to confuse her trail.
Now is
not
the time to expose what I’ve kept hidden for weeks.

The gate into her unkempt garden stood shut, clasped like she had left it that morning. The back door remained locked, and she opened it with haste. Inside, the storeroom was undisturbed, and the kitchen held the remains of a cheese sandwich on a green plate.

“Tanya?”

The girl came through the doorway from the front room, her red hair tossed in a wild mane. “Maddi! You’re home early.”

“Where is Ami?”

“Right here,” came the call from the side bedroom. Ami emerged, an expression of concern on her features. “Is something wrong?”

Maddi gave her a curt nod. “He’s here. He came with the king’s army.”

Ami’s eyes widened, but Tanya barked, “Who came with the king? Tallen?”

“Hush, Tanya.” Ami put her arms around the girl’s shoulders. “What should we do? Does he know we are here?”

Her heart pounding in her ears, Maddi glanced at the front door. “He knows I’m in the city. He could probably find out where I live.” She bit her lip, mind racing. “This house isn’t safe. You have to leave.”

She ran into her bedroom and shoved a long dresser away from the wall. Underneath, she lifted up a loose flagstone and toppled it over backward. In a hollowed out niche rested an oak strongbox, banded in finely wrought steel. Maddi hefted it out and sat it before a wide-eyed Ami and Tanya.

“I have been saving this for a long time.”

Pulling the intricate key out from the hidden pocket in her belt, Maddi placed it in the lock and popped the strongbox open. Four bags of fat, Gannonnite marks sat in the bottom, while a smaller box rested on top. She opened it to reveal a glistening pile of multi-colored gemstones, a rainbow sparkling in the lamplight.

Tanya giggled with excitement, while Ami gasped, her hand covering her mouth.

“You must use it wisely and sparingly.” Ami offered her a shaky nod, and Maddi continued. “Get out of Gavanor. Find a quiet, out of the way town where you can buy a modest home. Tell the locals your husband died working for the duke, and you got a pension to raise your daughter.” Maddi’s voice almost broke, but she pulled her emotions into check. “Don’t flaunt it. I know you are wise enough to do that.” She put her arm around Tanya and clasped Ami’s hand. “When the war is over, seek me out here, or I will find you, but better I do not know where you go for now.”

“Why are we leaving?” Tanya began to cry. “And why aren’t you going with us?”

“You will be safer if I distract them and make them focus on me.” She looked at Ami. “I have to fight the larger battles, or none of us can live in peace. But I will have a much easier time knowing you are hidden safe back here.”

A loud knock rattled the front door. Her hand reacting with instinct, Maddi pulled a knife. The knock sounded again, only a little softer. She hushed Ami and Tanya, who needed no urging to silence, and made her way into the front room. At the door, she peeked through the small, slatted window.

The sight of Captain Ranier washed the icy fear from her chest. She opened the door.

“Hurry,” she whispered fiercely. “Come in.”

She closed the door behind him, giving another peek for any followers.

Ranier wore workman’s clothes. “I was not followed, as you asked should I ever visit you.” He gave her a quizzical stare. “What is going on? I’ve surmised from previous conversation that you and the Lord Doctor do not get along, but do you really fear for your safety?”

“Not mine, Captain.” Maddi pointed at Tanya and Ami. “My family’s. Lord Doctor Marten has tried to kill us all once before, believe it or not.”

The Bluecloak engineer shook his head in disbelief. “A member of the High Council?”

Ami snorted at the captain’s words.

Ranier’s cocked his jaw in thought. “What scares me most is that I believe you, especially with what I witnessed today.” He folded his arms. “What can I do to help?”

Maddi sighed and clutched the man’s arm. “Thank you. If you could get us a few horses, I would appreciate it if you got Ami and Tanya out of city. Only they should know where they are going, and I have provided for them.” She looked up at his granite face. “But if you could see them safely through one of the gates and past the army, I would be eternally in your debt.”

Ranier smiled. “I don’t think I’ll lose my commission over it. I will return shortly.” He slipped out the door.

Maddi and Ami scurried about the house, throwing together a few travelling bags. Less than half an hour passed before the knock returned. Ranier stood outside with three horses and a mule. Maddi slung the strongbox to the mule’s rigging and hung the satchels they had prepared.

“I can get them to the village of Breydon.” Ranier swung up into one of the saddles. “From there they can go almost any direction but west.”

“Thank you, Captain.” She clasped his hand, before turning to hug Ami. “You must remain quiet and unobtrusive…” She looked down at Tanya, who had streaks on her cheeks, but no longer sobbed. “…quiet as a mouse, you hear? Can you do that for me?”

Her cheeks puffy and turning red, Tanya rubbed her eyes. “I can be quiet. I had to all the time when I lived with Mama, or Briscoe would get mean.”

Maddi choked back the tears that threatened to push their way to the fore. “Very good. You are always very good.” She hugged Tanya, whose grasp about her waist seemed higher every day. “I hope you aren’t too much bigger when I see you again.” Kneeling down, she pulled the girl to her chest. “I will come as soon as I can, I promise.”

“I know,” Tanya cried into her hair.

Before the sun set, Maddi had her own horse and pack, and looked back down the River Road toward the wide wall of Gavanor. She had made certain the Temple guards had seen her ride out, though she could not find the prior, the High Elder, or the Lord Doctor. No tears came to her as she thought of Ami and Tanya, but a hollowness ached in her chest. She turned eastward, where Tallen and her other friends waited.
Friends strong enough to take on the elder. And that flaming Tymin Marten.

When the Dwarves switched sides during the Dragon Wars, the People of Gan forged a sense of trust with them. The Elves, however, seemed to trust them even less, as though they felt if the Dwarves had betrayed one side, they might well betray the other. – “An Almanac of Dragon War Tales” by Julianos Sofra

S
lar peered up at the narrow chimney of rock and the distant tower far above it.
Six weeks and we still haven’t taken it. Maybe I should remove a few heads to make a point.

The caves and tunnels of Highspur no longer smoked, and his masons had begun re-hanging the fallen gate. From Slar’s vantage on the roof of the bastion, now bearing a single black banner, the fortress had begun to look inhabitable again.
Now it will be
our
great fortress, though the work at Dragonsclaw will be even more magnificent.

Boots sounded on the steps leading out on the roof. “Warchief, the…emissaries…have arrived.”

Slar turned to the messenger, a young orc not far past his first hunt. No calluses had formed on his weapon hand, and a nervousness hung about his face. “Bring them in, grunt.”

The young orc saluted and jogged back down the steps. A few moments later he emerged again, three stocky forms wrapped in dark cloaks following behind. They moved out onto the roof and pulled back their hoods to reveal pink, roundish faces. Dwarves. They stood before Slar, sour expressions hidden behind thick beards. One carried a bound chest. He set it on the stone flags.

“Greetings Warchief Slar of the united Orc clans,” one of the other two intoned. “We come as ambassadors of the Galdrian Cult. It was two of our members who gave their lives to allow you within this fortress.”

Shadowy memories of his son’s last charge haunted Slar. He snarled. “Them and thousands of my kin.”

The dwarf bowed again. “As you say, Warchief. Your people have suffered long, and it is fair time for their vengeance.”

An unbidden scoff left Slar’s throat. “What have you come to offer us, dwarf?”

A flash of bruised pride crossed the dwarf’s face. “Only our allegiance, and that of ten thousand of our brethren in key positions within the Dwarven army, the Rock, and its surrounding villages.”

Slar rubbed his freshly shaven chin. “That could become useful when our armies move on the Rock. Do more of your people have sympathies that lie with Galdreth?”

The dwarf nodded emphatically. “Oh, yes. Very few believe our dark Master had anything to do with the dragon raid of last year. Most don’t even believe we exist, much less great Galdreth.” He made a flaring sign with his palm and fingers, as did the other two dwarves. “But they know power and strength when they see it, and our dark Master has that aplenty. Once revealed, they will jump to follow Galdreth.”

Pausing a moment to let the possibilities sift through his skull, Slar examined the dwarven ambassadors. The one who had carried the chest stood slightly taller than the others, while the one who spoke had more gray streaking through his beard. The last one had no beard.

Slar put one hand on his scimitar hilt. “Very well, I shall take news of your allegiance to Galdreth upon my next communication with our Master. In the meantime, I will insist that one of you stay to serve as…councilor to me during the coming war.”

The three dwarves looked at each other for a moment. Then the one who had not spoken stepped forward. “I will stay. I am Charani Millhouse, my Lord Warchief.”

That is a female’s voice!

Slar kept most of the surprise from his expression. He stood there a minute in the sunlight, letting the mountain breeze cool his head. “A woman, eh? My daughter trains to become a shaman. The world changes in many ways.” He folded his arms. “Then you shall stay and be my councilor, Charani Millhouse.”

She bowed, and then signaled the other two dwarfs to leave. They slipped down the staircase with little more than a final dip of their heads.

“So, Charani Millhouse, what do you propose I—”

Another set of boots came charging up the stairs and out onto the roof. The breeze took on a greater chill. An involuntary shudder ran up Slar’s back. This time the messenger looked to be a veteran, with a scarred face and his clothes dirty from a long road.

“Warchief.” He knelt before Slar, his head hung low and his shoulders shaking. “I bring dire news from the front.”

The knot of pain deep in Slar’s gut flared back into his awareness. He scowled to cover a grimace. “What is it, warrior?”

The messenger looked at the dwarf woman.

“She is my newest councilor, and I will have her hear any bad news as well as the good.” The pain in his stomach forced his voice into anger. “Tell me!”