Accidental Sorceress (Hardstorm Saga Book 2) (28 page)

The pines here grew thicker. We followed the miners’ wagon trail without straying to the right or left. We could not see far in any direction, for the trail was winding, forever disappearing among the trees up ahead.

We sent scouts ahead to alert us of any danger.

But instead, Marga ended up warning us, stopping in the middle of the trail and growling loudly.

When I stopped at the head of the column, so did everyone else behind me. Orz and Tomron, one on each side of me, drew their swords. Orz easily held Cila one-handed, but I stood ready to take her should there be a fight.

“Who goes there?” a disembodied voice challenged us from the woods ahead.

The man spoke in Selorm, which set me at ease. At least we were not facing the murderous Kerghi.

“The Lady Tera, High Sorceress,” Tomron answered in my name.

Silence in the woods. “On what business?”

This I answered myself. “In search of Lord Karnagh, who is a friend. He was last seen heading to Lord Brooker’s castle.”

After another few moments of silence, a dozen men stepped out of the woods. Judging by their armor, they truly were Selorm. One of them chuffed at Marga. Marga looked unimpressed with their knowledge of her language. Her tail swished in the dirt.

I sent her a calming song in the way of the spirits. She came back to stand by me, rubbing herself against my side as if saying I was under her protection and nobody better forget that.

The men moved toward us. When they stopped, the one in the lead, an older soldier in heavily scarred leather armor, looked us over, and noted the Selorm soldiers around me.

“Tomron,” Tomron said. “I served Lord Karnagh as his captain.”

“Ridet,” said the other man. “Captain of old Lord Brooker who was killed by the enemy. Now captain of young Lord Brooker.”

He eyed Orz. Other than a slight shift in his stance, he did not betray his wariness. He did not ask about the hollow either. He simply pushed out his chest. He seemed to be the kind of man who would not easily admit if anything unnerved him.

“I will show you to Lord Brooker,” he said at long last and turned.

We followed him and his men. Then more of his soldiers came from the woods, holding our two scouts. They were returned to us red-faced. Tomron fell back to have a word with them.

I did not envy the dressing-down they would receive for allowing themselves to be captured. I felt sorry for the two youth, village boys not properly trained as soldiers, but I would not interfere with Tomron in this matter.

He returned soon but did not walk with me. Instead, he hurried ahead. He talked to the Selorm, who were showing us the way. When he was done asking questions, he came back to me.

“Young Brooker, Lord Brooker’s only son, saved many of his people by secreting them out into the deep woods through a passageway under the enemy,” he said. “He is sheltering his people in caves.”

We reached those caves as dusk fell, and I was at once shown to the young Lord Brooker. Marga walked with me, staying close to my side. And no matter how they protested, Brooker’s guards could not make Orz stay behind either.

Young Lord Brooker waited for me on the ledge in front of the opening to the caves, a powerful male tiger next to him, his great tail swishing from side to side, matching the rhythm of Marga’s.

He was a handsome young man of wild blond hair and sparkling blue eyes, in full armor, chin out, shoulders squared. He was a leader, no doubt, but not quite used to being a lord yet, relying on his family armor and fancy sword to announce his position.

His tiger snapped and growled at Marga, and Marga growled back. Then they sniffed at each other. They made no attempt to fight, and after a moment, Lord Brooker spoke to me.

“Greetings, Sorceress.”

He waved me past the opening, most of which had been blocked with a wall of woven branches, the gaps stuffed with moss and scraps of cloth, then covered with mud that had dried, then frozen hard. Inside, the first section of the cave was used for storing wood and other supplies. From this area opened many large chambers, where people sat around fires.

He walked me toward the fire in a smaller, empty chamber that sat to the side, as private as quarters could be had under the circumstances. The tigers followed behind us, then settled down, one on each side. We sat on stones covered with fur.

Cila was feeling better and went with one of the women. Orz came to stand behind me. The sword he had gained in the battle made his dark figure even more imposing.

“The hollow is bound to you?” Brooker wanted to know. He could not hide his curiosity as well as his grizzled captain had.

Was Orz bound to me? I had not done anything to bind him. But I thought Brooker’s people might feel more comfortable if they thought I controlled the hollow, so I nodded. Orz rarely left my side, had followed my every order so far. He had made no attempt to harm anyone against my wishes. I did not think that with that small nod I was lying.

I glanced past Brooker, at his people, all of whom were watching us with much curiosity, every face turned in our direction.

“Are you a sorceress come to save us?” the young lord asked as he watched me through narrowed eyes, his legs apart, his right hand braced on his right thigh, his left elbow braced on his left knee, as if posing for a painting: The Warrior Lord at Rest.

“I have come to find Lord Karnagh.”

“You claim you are his friend.” Brooker’s gaze dipped to my cape as if he tried to discern what I looked like under there. “I fear Lord Karnagh is with the spirits,” he said darkly after some time.

My heart twisted. “You saw him die?”

“I saw his broken body carried up the mountain by his tiger.” He fell silent again, picking up a stick and stirring the glowing embers. “Have you ever heard of the Beast Lords’ Chapel, my lady?”

I shook my head.

He stirred the embers again, his gaze growing unfocused. “The original home of the Selorm, my people, was far to the east of here, centuries past. Our ancestors came to Seberon from there, fleeing a great enemy. We were city-building people, but here we found tribes living in huts, ruled by a feeble, weak king. Even as diminished as our forces were, we easily conquered the land with our tigers.

“Our leader at the time, Lord Torimo, divided up the conquered kingdom of Seberon between his twelve remaining faithful lords and charged them to build castles and roads, let the Seb tribes work the land as before, live in peace, and pay taxes,” he recited evenly, as if reciting a history lesson from his teachers.

“Some of the tribes fought, most accepted us, for Lord Torimo was a good leader and he brought peace to the land. The tribes even sent their sons to join their lords’ armies. Foreign hordes no longer swept through Seberon every couple of years, raping, pillaging, and setting villages afire. Under the Selorm lords’ command, the land was well protected. We became the kingless kingdom.

“The tribesmen called the Selorm lords Beast Lords because of their tigers. Soon our people blended and became as one, our separate origins all but forgotten. No enemy could breach our borders and destroy our great cities. Until Emperor Drakhar,” he added with a heavy sigh.

“And the Beast Lords’ Chapel?” I asked.

He pointed up. “At the first peak above the snowline. The original twelve lords and their tigers are buried there, guarding the grave of Lord Torimo and his tiger Bloodstorm. Over the centuries, tigers that lost their lords were drawn to the mountain and its forests. They bred and took over. Some battle tigers go up there to die. I have not heard of any man climbing up there in a hundred years.”

He sat up straight, forgetting his pose. “These caves are as high as a man can go safely on this mountain, my lady. The caves keep us safe at night from the wild tigers’ hunting.”

Had Lord Karnagh gone up the mountain to die?
I thought about that long and hard.

“How many escaped the castle with you, my lord?” I asked Lord Brooker.

“A hundred warriors, three hundred women, children, and elderly. Then another hundred refugees found us and joined us since, mostly peasants from the villages.” He looked at me with questions in his eyes.

“I brought around as many,” I told him.

“How many battle-ready men?”

“About a hundred.” Tomron had been training the village men every night we stopped for camp and every morning before we renewed our march. From every abandoned village we had come across, they had taken every hammer, scythe, and sickle they could find and had worked them into weapons to add to their simple spears.

Brooker nodded. “Two hundred warriors might be able to retake the castle if we enter it unseen through the secret tunnel that helped us escape.”

I considered his words. Maybe too long, because he added, “These caves will not hold a thousand people. Nor will these forests feed them through the winter. We would be safer within the walls at least.”

“And food?”

“We shall take the enemy’s food stores when we take the castle. They have pillaged every village and taken every bit of the harvest, every sow, every sheep, all the oxen.”

When I still would not commit to battle, he said, “My hundred warriors cannot do it. But two hundred warriors with the help of a sorceress…” He flashed me a winning smile that no doubt had worked on every maiden in the castle in the past.

I considered his suggestion carefully. I did not want to lead my people into battle. In truth, the thought of another battle made me want to weep. I was no warrior queen. I loathed the idea of sending men to die. Until now, all our efforts had been to defend ourselves. Yet I was in this land to gather an army and take it back with me to Dahru to save my people.

I sent a silent prayer to the spirits to give me strength for all I had to accomplish, then stood. “Lord Brooker, have you enough to feed all our people for a few days?”

He nodded with a guarded look. “We laid by stores for the winter.” He paused. “Your people could rest a few days here to recover from their journey while we make our plans. Then we shall attack the castle together.”

But I shook my head. “We shall ask Lord Karnagh’s opinion on that when I bring him down the mountain.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

(Beast Lords’ Chapel)

I spent the rest of the day talking with Tomron and resting for the climb. The women, children, and the elderly moved into the caves. Our men slept outside around their fires.

At dawn, I wrapped myself in the furs gifted to me by Lord Brooker, packed as much food as I could comfortably carry, then started up the mountain at dawn with Marga. Orz followed, of course, but I stopped him.

“I wish that you would stay and help our people. Tomron will be busy talking strategy with Lord Brooker. I am concerned that Cila’s fever might come back.”

I had only been able to treat the orphan girl with herbs, and they did not seem to be working fully. “If her fever returns, pack her in snow. But not too long. As I did before. Do you remember?”

He nodded, but his shoulders were stiffer than ever.

I placed a hand on his arm. “The spirits have been with me so far. They shall not abandon me now. Marga will protect me. I would have you stay,” I said as a request from a friend, not as an order from a sorceress.

He looked at my hand on his arm and stilled, his body completely motionless. Slowly, he drew me into his arms.

I did not know in what way he meant it. As a friend? As the Guardians when they embraced me? As more? But what more could there be?

I had lost my heart. He had lost his spirit. In that, we were similar indeed. I
had
come to care for him. And I did not think of him differently than I thought of any other man. But I could not think of any man as I had thought of Batumar.

Orz had protected me. He had held me through the darkest day of my life.

Part of me did want to be held again, even if the rest was too broken to accept that comfort.

“Orz…”

But he had already felt the stiffening of my muscles and was backing away, his head dipping low in an apologetic bow, again and again, as if he was horrified that he had scared me. Did he think I was repulsed by his embrace?

“Orz…”

He kept backing away, the set of his shoulders signaling abject misery.

I sighed, suddenly miserable myself, and I did not know why exactly. “I have to go. I shall find you when I return.”

When I turned to leave, he did not follow again. But he called out in his ruined voice, the only word he could speak. “Orz.”

I looked over my shoulder, at his shrouded, solitary figure. “I shall be back in a few days’ time with Lord Karnagh.”

I caught sight of Lord Brooker at the mouth of the cave. He looked after me with doubt in his blue eyes, but also acceptance. He thought the mountain would claim me, but he clearly consoled himself with the fact that he would still have my warriors and he could retake his castle with them, even without a sorceress on his side. In any case, a sorceress as foolish as one who would go up the mountain—in winter, no less—could be no great sorceress, but one quite possibly weakened in the mind.

I had overheard him talking with his captains just before dawn.

Tomron stood by him now and watched me with his usual quiet strength. He believed in my powers more than I did. If I said I was going to move the mountain, he would not have batted an eyelash, I was certain.

If I ever had a brother, he could not have been better to me than Tomron.

Then my gaze settled on Orz again, his head bowed, his face covered by the black hood of his robe. His hands were fisted at his sides. He did not like letting me go. I turned back to my path and strode forward before he could decide to follow after.

Marga bounded ahead.

We followed a trail made by wild animals. By midday, I had to stop, the climb a difficult one, not at all like climbing trees in my childhood. Rocks rolled under my feet; stones cut my hand when I reached out to steady myself. The cold wind chapped my face, making it difficult to breathe.