WayFarer (21 page)

Hands caught him, preventing his fall. “May Lof Yuel protect you.” Craelin breathed.

Elcon gripped the stone of the parapet until Freaer’s touch slid away. He stiffened. Distant figures streamed from the canyonlands toward Torindan, and Elcon’s heart beat double-time within his chest. He shouted above the renewed thumping of the battering ram. “Garns approach.”

The look of horror on Craelin’s face told its own story. “We’ll never stand against so many.” He turned his head. “You may soon fulfill your wish to die in battle.”

19

The Ice Witch

Aewen’s baby, held in the crook of Murial’s arm, stared at Kai with bright eyes as he gave the sapphire band into the old servant’s free hand. Even here, in the dim light of the inn’s hallway, the stone at its center gleamed. Murial tilted her head in question, and he closed her hand around the ornament. “It’s from Euryon—for Syl Marinda. I want you to hold it for her until I return from Torindan. I must go now to find Elcon.”

“I’ll keep it safe.” Murial’s hand tightened around the band. He thought she took his meaning. He had no idea what he would find when he arrived at Torindan or whether he would return for Elcon’s child.

The babe grasped his finger and drew it toward her mouth. Murial laughed and shifted away. “She’s a hungry little thing and keeps me busy. It’s well Quinn and Heddwyn keep a goat for the milk it gives.” She smiled but her eyes filled with tears.

He touched her shoulder. “Look after her safety.”

Her dark eyes gleamed. “Aye, and look to your own as well.”

In the common room, Quinn delivered a platter of bread and cheese to a grizzled huntsman and then glanced at Kai. “You’ll be on your way, then?”

Kai signaled for Quinn to join him outside. When the door banged shut behind them, he leaned close to Quinn. “Thank you for keeping the babe in comfort and safety.”

Quinn gave him a level look. “None besides us need know the truth about her parents.”

Kai nodded. “That’s well, then. I’ll try and return soon.”

Quinn’s face warmed in a smile. “Don’t worry about that. Heddwyn be overjoyed to keep the child. She can’t bear offspring of her own, you see. That babe fills her arms and soothes her aching heart.”

Kai turned to go but at the touch of a hand on his arm, looked back into the innkeeper’s rugged face. Quinn cleared his throat. “Godspeed.”

****

The last gate splintered and crashed. A shudder went through Elcon as many voices raised a visceral battle cry. The enemy now occupied the barbican. All who had defended it must have fallen. They’d held out against wave after wave of footsoldiers. They’d even managed to light fire to the siege tower as it lurched toward the fortress with garns in the place of the slain oxen. But they could not hold it forever against such numbers.

Craelin squinted at him, his blue eyes nested in lines. “With the enemy so close, only a fool would linger here and risk a stray arrow. Let the archers defend the battlements, and we’ll put our heads together in the guardroom.”

At first Elcon stared at him without comprehension, his thoughts centered on Eathnor, whom he’d ordered to carry a message to the archers. Had he sent him to his death? He could only hope the young tracker had already returned across the drawbridge, now lifted, that spanned a deep channel of the moat between the barbican and gatehouse.

A small thud followed the hiss of flight feathers. Craelin jerked, then doubled as if he’d taken a stomach punch. Elcon reached him in two steps. Weilton met him at Craelin’s side. Together, they pulled him upright. Blood seeped in a spreading patch on the shoulder of his surcoat around the shaft of an arrow that projected there. He groaned.

Elcon threw Craelin’s good arm over his own shoulders. Weilton supported him on his injured side. Together, they half-dragged, half-carried him down the stairs. Dorann, just passing, halted. Elcon jerked his head without slowing. “Summon Daelic!”

They laid Craelin on his bed, and Weilton broke the shaft of the arrow with care. Even so, Craelin gritted his teeth and moaned. Already blood stained the sheet. Weilton looked across Craelin to Elcon. “The arrow’s gone through his shoulder. Let him grasp your hand so I can push the rest of the shaft out.”

Elcon lifted a brow. “Shouldn’t we wait for Daelic?”

Weilton glanced up. “There’s no telling where Daelic may be right now. I know what I’m doing.”

Craelin grasped Elcon’s hand as he moaned again. “Don’t waste your time on the dying.”

“You can’t die.” Elcon squeezed Craelin’s hand to emphasize his words. “I have need of you.”

Craelin gave the ghost of a smile. “I’ll bear that in mind.” Weilton turned him on his side and pushed the broken shaft through in a sudden movement. Craelin cried out as beads of sweat stood on his forehead. His eyes closed and he went limp.

When Craelin’s iron grip relaxed Elcon massaged his own hand. “He’s unconscious. Let’s get his surcoat and chain mail off. The arrow slipped between the plates.”

Weilton tore the bed sheets into pieces which he pressed against Craelin’s wounds. “We need to staunch the flow of blood. He’s lost quite a bit already. If pressure doesn’t stop the flow, we’ll have to cauterize the wound.”

“Weilton, as second in command, you must act in his place. Send another to help tend Craelin.”

“I mislike leaving him or you.”

“I can look after Craelin and myself, but keep me informed. It’s only a matter of time before they breech the wall.”

“Don’t worry, Lof Shraen. We can shoot fire arrows and use catapults. Of course, the thickness at the base of the walls will deter them, at least for a time. We have enough pots of quicklime, oil, shards, and stones for a good defense.”

Elcon asked the question most pressing his mind. “Can we hope to hold them off until our reinforcements arrive?”

Weilton’s eyes gleamed. “There’s always hope—and prayer.”

****

The stable boy, emerged from the far end of the stable, pitchfork in hand. Kai had come to know and trust Hael. He was a cheery fellow with apple cheeks and brown hair. Hael knew his way around a horse, whether it had wings or no.

“Help me, will you? I must leave this day and take all the wingabeasts.”

Hael gave him a bright look but asked no questions. With measured movements he approached Raeld, while Kai turned to Fletch. Ruescht whinnied in inquiry and the boy laughed. “She’s a might concerned about being left behind, I think.” He patted her neck.

Once Fletch and Raeld were saddled and bridled, Kai led them outside and left Hael to follow with Ruescht. He squinted in the sunlight, blinded after the dimness. Beyond the stableyard, cleared pasture land sloped to the White Feather River, which roared and boomed against its banks. Kai mounted Fletch
as Hael joined him and offered him Ruescht’s lead rope. Kai shook his head. “Tie it to her saddle horn, as I’ve done with Raeld.” He laughed at Hael’s look of surprise. “They’ll not stray.”

“I didn’t know the wingabeasts obeyed so well.”

“They are trained to it.”

Hael stepped away but waited. Kai smiled and nodded a farewell. Hael never seemed to tire of watching wingabeasts lift into flight. After commanding the other two wingabeasts to follow, Kai signaled Fletch. Powerful wings lifted and then beat downward as the wingabeast sprang upward. Raeld and Ruescht arched into flight over the White Feather River, which roared and foamed below. The peaks of Maegrad Ceid
jutted skyward
before him as Fletch climbed toward the passes. They needed to gain height to cross in safety, for wingabeasts flying over the Maegrad could encounter wind shears and vagrant currents. Kai was used to navigating them whenever he returned for visits home to Whellein, but he never quite relaxed until he’d cleared the passes.

He smiled at the sudden memory of teasing Shae about the Ice Witch. In truth, an ancient legend about Erdrich Ceid warned of the arts she employed to freeze solid those who strayed into her icy domain. His smile widened. Shae had believed the tale. How strange that thoughts of Shae brought him only joy now. He would always love and miss her, but somehow the pain of his loss had eased.

He crossed over foothills clad in kabas and seamed with silver waterfalls. The trees grew smaller and finally fell away in lieu of banks of snowflowers and penstemons. These, in turn, yielded before the silent tumbled boulders of glacial moraines. The snow in the passes sparkled like diamonds. A particular patch drew his attention—the place Aewen had given birth. Fresh snow already erased any marks of disturbance.

Fletch lurched and tilted in a crosswind, batting his wings to correct his flight. Raeld and Ruescht recovered as well. Kai turned his attention wholly to flight. They entered turbulent currents, and then a sudden pocket of calm. Although Fletch’s wings beat the air, they plummeted. Kai fought to bring his wingabeast out of the downdraft he’d sunk into, for the shoulders of the passes loomed near. Fletch tilted, and Kai cried out as the mountain seemed to heave toward him.

****

A figure blocked the light in the doorway, and Elcon looked up in expectation. “Did Weilton send you?” He shifted to ease the ache in his shoulders from half-bending over Craelin to press the cloths over his wounds.

Dorann looked surprised “Nay. I came back when I couldn’t find Daelic. I left word for him and now offer myself in his place.”

“That’s right. You know something of healing.”

Dorann moved to the bedside, his attention on Craelin’s prostrate form. “I know the old ways.”

Elcon straightened. “They’ll do.”

Dorann pulled the bloody cloths aside and shook his head. “We’ll need a fire. I can light one soon enough.”

“Weilton suggested cauterizing the wounds.”

Dorann already squatted before the cold hearth. “We can hope he’ll recover. He’s lost a lot of blood. Has Weilton gone, then? Why do I find you alone at Craelin’s side?”

“Weilton left for the guardroom to assume Craelin’s duties in his absence. I took you for the help he promised to send.”

“So, another will arrive soon? That’s well, then. An extra pair of hands won’t go amiss should Craelin rouse.”

Elcon took his meaning. He’d not seen wounds cauterized before, but he understood it as a grim business. A memory stirred. “Where were you headed earlier?”

Dorann blew on the small flame that sputtered in the hearth. “I came in search of Eathnor.”

Elcon hesitated. “He may have been on the barbican’s battlements when it fell.”

Dorann’s amber eyes were bright. “He was there, as was I.”

“I thought none escaped.”

“Some did.” He turned back to the fire. “Most did not. When Freaer’s footsoldiers intercepted us I lost sight of Eathnor in the fight. I don’t know if he made it across the drawbridge. If he did, I thought to find him, or at least word of him, in the guardroom.”

A shadow fell across the doorway. A figure moved into the chamber. “I can give you word of your brother, who has worn out the pathways looking for you.”

Dorann sprang to his feet and met Eathnor’s embrace.

A roar separated them as a fireball landed nearby. Vibrations rose through the stone floor.

“More dragonsfire!” Elcon found his voice.

Dorann staggered to the open door. “That was in the bailey, just beyond the gatehouse arch!” Across the moat an eerie battle cry rose and fell. A grim expression crossed Eathnor’s face. “They’ll rush the walls soon.”

Dorann laid an iron poker in the fire. “Meanwhile, let’s tend Craelin.”

When the poker glowed red, they worked with speed. At the first hiss and stench of burnt flesh, Craelin roused with a shriek, but Elcon and Eathnor held him fast. At the second hiss, he fainted dead away.

Dorann stood back. Sweat beaded his forehead. “If he lives through the night, we can place him among the other wounded in the care of the priests.”

Eathnor gave a swift nod. “I’ll watch over him until then.”

Dorann cleared his throat. “
I’ll
watch over him, you mean. What of your other duties as a messenger of the guardians?”

Eathnor smiled. “Few know I’ve cheated death. I’ll report to Weilton soon enough.”

Elcon lifted a brow. “I’ll tell Weilton you live, Eathnor, but I prefer you to remain at Craelin’s side for now. If any of us lives through this night, we’ll need to stand and fight.”

Eathnor smiled. “What say you, brother? Shall we cheat death a second time?”

****

Dead air hung in a pall before him. An orange sky glowed overhead. Trees flamed red. Kai slid from Fletch’s back. He dug his hands into black snow that stretched in all directions. It numbed his flesh. He stood and looked about. He could see nothing beyond this strange hollow.

Was this death, then—a place of nothing more?

At a thin whistling exhalation, he turned. Fletch
,
frozen in place, breathed no more.

Terrible cold blasted Kai as the Ice Witch claimed him too.

****

Dragonsfire worried the sky late into the night, but now its absence troubled Elcon’s scant sleep. He rolled from bed to his feet. He’d borrowed Kai’s guardhouse chamber for the night because of its proximity to Craelin’s and to remain close to the battle. The rampant gryphon carved into the strongwood door to Craelin’s chamber loomed out of the semi-darkness. He heard no sound from within.

The cool metal of Sword Rivenn weighted his hand as he passed beneath guttering torches and climbed the silent stair to the guardhouse tower. At an arrow embrasure near the top, he paused and looked out. Shreds of cloud obscured the pale moon, which picked out the high peaks in outline. The land below lay in darkness. As he watched, blackness blotted out even the moon’s feeble light.

He stepped back, his heart pounding. The sword in his hand came alive with light. A scuffling sounded overhead. He withdrew into shadow, every muscle tensed.