Sunset of Lantonne (26 page)

“You think they’ll agree to marry?”

“If Ishande’s mother were alive and anything like Raeln’s, she wouldn’t dare say no. I’d be surprised if Raeln manages to stall a week before he asks for Ishande’s permission. When he does, she will accept to avoid having to choose someone less suitable.”

Ilarra’s stomach clenched painfully. “Would that be a problem if they marry?’ asked Ilarra nervously.

Rolus gave her a surprised look, then laughed and smiled before saying, “If it makes them happy, no. He’s a good match for her and I’ve been wanting to spend time with you for a while, Ilarra. Not marriage, mind you, but I was thinking something less permanent. I won’t push for marriage, but I promise not to refuse either. When or if you are ready, we can talk about it then. In the meantime, our parents can make all the plans they want without us. I’d like us to make our own choices when the time is right.”

Thankful that he had not bought into their parents’ rushed mindset, Ilarra leaned over and gave Rolus a quick kiss on the cheek, making him blush and smile.

“Thank you for understanding,” she offered. “This came out of nowhere and I’m…I’m not ready to even think about it.”

Rolus chuckled nervously and replied, “You think I am? Ishande and I want to prove ourselves among the hunters, not settle down and plow fields or raise children. I’m sure you and Raeln have your own plans that don’t involve us. Besides, I think Ishande wants to beat Raeln in a fight before she agrees to anything.”

A loud whistle startled Ilarra, and Rolus snapped to attention, reaching for the weapon he did not have.

“What was that?” demanded Ilarra, looking around.

“Ishande,” he explained, searching for his sister as he took Ilarra by the arm. “She whistles to let me know something is coming, since she can’t yell, though I think it’s still cheating. Tribal barbarians most likely. Get to the house.”

“I can help,” argued Ilarra, digging in her feet when he tried to push her. “I’m not helpless. I have some magic and you’re unarmed. We should find our siblings and get weapons for you two.”

Rolus looked ready to tell her to run, then nodded grimly. “Follow me. We’ll cut through the field and meet them on the far side. They’re closer to where we have weapons stashed, and anything coming this way will have to come through us.”

Running into the open field between them and the farmhouse, Rolus somehow managed to push through the knee-deep snow that had gotten caught between the dead plants without slowing. Thankfully, the trail he left gave Ilarra a little room to move, though she lagged behind him, the snow dragging down her dress, cloak, and boots. Every time she got more than a few steps behind him, Rolus would stop and help her catch up.

They eventually reached the far side of the field, closer to the dense trees that lay between the farm and Hyeth itself. As they broke out into the shallower snow near the house, Ishande and Raeln came running up from the trees, looking as worried as Ilarra felt. Ishande began pointing at the trees to the south.

“South?” Rolus asked, stopping to look around. “The tribes come from west or east…”

Just then, a wildling burst from the trees, running hard toward them with a sword in his hand. In dismay, Ilarra realized it was the wolf wildling they had lost just outside Hyeth. He looked at them and ran even harder, the sword held at the ready.

“Ishande?” asked Rolus, relaxing somewhat.

The wildling woman nodded and patted Raeln’s arm, then turned to face the rapidly approaching wolf. When he got close to the group, Ishande rushed him, grabbing his wrist mid-step to keep him from using his weapon. She used his momentum and her grip on his arm to roll past him and throw him off-balance, then leapt onto his back, driving her elbow into his neck. With a pained grunt, the man collapsed and rolled onto his back, the sword tumbling away into the snow.

“I’m not here to hurt anyone!” the stranger said quickly, raising his hands to shield his face as Ishande stood over him, her hand held high with her claws at the ready. “I smelled people and elves and wanted to get here to warn you.”

“People…and elves?” Ilarra asked angrily, following Rolus and Raeln as they moved up on the newcomer cautiously. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Smirking, the wolf shrugged, then took notice of Raeln. “I know you,” the wolf said, dropping his hands. “I’m going to get hit again, aren’t I?”

Raeln swung his fist hard at the smaller wildling, much to the amusement of Ishande, who stepped back to watch. Judging by her expression, Ilarra guessed she was admiring Raeln again, though she may as well have been gauging the quality of a steak the way she eyed him.

The punch went wide as the other wolf rolled and hooked Raeln’s arm. With a twist of his whole body, he spun Raeln around, clearly intending to flip him. On any other warrior Ilarra had ever seen that would have worked, but Raeln had not been trained like most.

Rolling with the momentum used against him, Raeln reversed the grip mid-tumble, flipping the other man onto his back. Raeln did not hesitate to kick the unnamed wildling in the face before he could move, dazing him.

“He’s an escaped prisoner from Lantonne,” Ilarra explained quickly. “It’s okay. They have some history. Just let them sort it out.”

Raeln grabbed the other wildling by the arm, pulling him upright by the wrist, cocked far behind his back.

In the distance, Ilarra saw Rolus’ mother and her own father emerge from the cabin and begin heading in their direction.

“Why are you on my land?” Rolus demanded as Raeln turned the wildling man to face him. “Explain yourself and give me your name or I’ll let him start popping your limbs off. I might let Ishande take turns, too.”

If the wolf had any fear whatsoever, he certainly did not show it. He studied Ishande a moment and smiled at her as though they were old friends. “The female? Nice choice…can she go first beating on me?” he asked, grinning a toothy smile.

In immediate reaction, Raeln drove a knee into the man’s ribs.

“Argh! Right…Greth was what my father called me,” the man answered, then grunted a little as Raeln tugged at his already-strained arm. “Like I said, I came here to warn everyone.”

“About what?” asked Ilarra.

Pointing with his left hand toward the south, Greth said, “That.”

Ilarra looked in the direction he was pointing, seeing only the trees at first. Then, farther out, she spotted dozens of shapes headed in their direction. They stumbled and tripped in the snow but pushed on straight toward the house.

“Undead,” she whispered, but no one moved. “Undead!”

The army began to pour out of the woods, hundreds of partially-decayed corpses marching, many with snow or ice on them that did not melt as it should have on a living being. Upon spotting Ilarra and the others, the group surged forward. It would take them minutes to reach the group through the deeper snow closer to the trees.

Rolus’ mother was the first to react. “Rolus, Ishande, Raeln…slow them if you can. Ilarra’s parents and I will try to get back to the library and warn the others. Buy us a minute if you can, but retreat quickly!”

Raeln looked between his captive and the undead, clearly torn about what to do.

“Let the savage idiot go,” Ilarra insisted and Raeln obeyed, releasing his grip on Greth. “Right now, he’s not a concern. He’ll fight or he’ll die, too. It’s in his best interest to help.”

Muttering something, Greth shoved Raeln off of him and rolled onto his feet. He gave Ishande a coy smile that elicited a glare from both her and Raeln, then motioned somewhat northeast. “They cut off the main paths between here and the village,” the man warned. “Go a little more north and you can get around them before they notice. I would have told you sooner but some moron was kicking me.”

Raeln took the rear with Ishande and Rolus, while the older members of the group pushed on ahead, keeping Ilarra pretty much in the middle. The warriors kept checking behind themselves as they made their way through the dense trees, slowing their pace occasionally to let the non-combatants get farther ahead.

To allow Raeln to stay back with Rolus and Ishande, Greth kept farther up in the group, occasionally helping Ilarra’s father and Rolus’ mother keep their footing on the slick snow. Asha needed no such help and Greth made no overtures of trying. If anything, Ilarra thought he was deferring to her as the leader of the group and helping those she glanced at with concern.

Once the outlying buildings of Hyeth came into sight, Ilarra’s father stopped abruptly and turned to her, ignoring the prodding of Greth to hurry.

“Ilarra,” her father said, “let the warriors know we’re under attack, then meet at the library. We’ll use it as our last defense, if they come this way.”

Not bothering to reply, Ilarra broke from the group and ran toward where the hunters and warriors tended to gather when they were in the village. The south end of the village was meant to be an open area for public use, but long ago the warriors had mostly turned it into a training grounds. If any of the warriors were around, whoever was there would know how to find them quickly.

The woods thinned and finally ended as Ilarra ran hard into the clearing, her lungs burning and her legs aching from running through the ankle-deep snow. Thankfully, as she headed for the training area, a half dozen men with bows who had been firing at hay bales turned and began running toward her, grabbing weapons as they went.

“Raiders?” demanded one of the wolf wildlings. He looked genuinely disappointed when Ilarra shook her head.

“Undead!” she gasped. “Attacking the western farms. Father wants everyone to get to the library.”

“Get yourself there,” another man told her, shouldering a full quiver of arrows as he spoke. “We’ll round people up and send them there. If your father needs to bar the doors, make sure to sound a horn so we know not to keep telling people that it’s safe to head that way.”

The men ran off before Ilarra could say more, leaving her panting in the clearing. Somehow, the warriors drew more of their friends without a single call that she heard, and soon nearly two dozen elven and wildling men were heading toward the west in an attempt to intercept.

Ilarra ran back toward the main part of the village, calling out to people as she went. It did not take long and she was trailed my nearly every man, woman, and child who lived within Hyeth, all making their way toward the library, the only building large enough to temporarily house them during an attack.

The library itself had already begun to look like a fortress by the time they got there. The main room had been cleared of tables, all of which were now piled on their sides just inside the double-doors. The tactic of securing the library had been practiced many times in the past when the tribal people had approached town, but never had it been more than just practice.

Inside, Raeln and Greth were dragging heavy furniture to the entry steps and throwing it outside, clearing more room for people within and creating hazards on the stairs that would slow any approach by a large force. Piles of weapons lay behind the two men, brought up from the building’s cellar for the villagers to use if the undead made it through the thick library doors.

Ilarra stood back and let the others rush past her into the library, waiting facing the western woods until everyone was inside. Once she was sure that no one else was coming, she started to turn toward the steps of the library, then stopped and looked back at the woods.

No more than fifty feet out in the trees, a small girl stared back at Ilarra. She was not moving and did not look afraid, but her intense stare made Ilarra nervous. In a village as small as Hyeth, the elven child would be someone Ilarra should know, but she did not. Where she had come from, Ilarra could not imagine.

“Father?” Ilarra called over her shoulder, then let the word trail off as she saw a dozen men and women—mostly human—come from the woods around the girl, ignoring her completely.

Unlike the child, the newcomers were almost all bloodied or missing limbs. Some had deep gashes that split their faces, as though they had already marched through a war. Few held weapons, but they did not need them to make Ilarra’s chest tighten. The vacant stares of the dead did far more to frighten her than any weapons would.