Dark Realm: Book 5 Circles of Light series (32 page)

They sat in silence for
a while, long enough for the stars to seem to move fractionally
across the dark sky.

‘Why haven’t we seen
the First Daughter since we returned?’ Gossamer’s question was
almost casual.

Corman leaned his head
back against the wall. ‘You can see her if you wish. Tika and Shea
visit her. The other little cat, Khosa, is with her most of the
time, although we don’t know why and she chooses not to give her
reasons.’

‘Is she very
ill?’

Corman’s eyes opened.
‘Gossamer, Lerran descended far into the Dark and then had to raise
not just herself, but the young Dragon’s soul as well. Such
prodigious expenditure of her power and strength has – damaged her
physically. We have no idea where her mind and soul are. All we can
do is try to sustain her body until she can find her way
back.’

Silence fell again
until Gossamer gathered Akomi up against her shoulder. ‘The First
Daughter – she will recover?’

Corman rose to walk
beside her. ‘We do not know,’ he told her sadly.

They climbed the many
stairs up to the great chamber together. Near the last landing,
Gossamer stopped, turning to look directly at the Dark Lord.
‘Dabray said I must stay with this woman Tika. He said I will be
needed. What did he mean?’

Corman gave a huff of
amusement. ‘And he told you that before you went to the Splintered
Kingdom, didn’t he?’ He waited for her puzzled nod. ‘I haven’t
spoken with Dabray for centuries Gossamer Tewk. What he knows, what
he has told Lerran, no one else knows or would dare guess.’ He
shrugged and began climbing the last flight of black stone stairs.
‘If he has suggested you stay with them, I would do so were I
you.’

They paused by the main
arch. The Dragons slept, with Tika and Sket curled close by. Essa
and Shea were gone, so were Lady Emla and Nesh. Four men sat around
a small table, talking quietly – the healer Tevros, Captain Soran,
Garrol and Gan Jal Sarl. Corman touched Gossamer’s arm.

‘Lerran’s bed chamber
is along the corridor. There are always healers with her. I will
stay here.’

He watched Gossamer
Tewk’s slender form walk slowly, almost unwillingly, down the
passage. He leaned against the wall and folded his arms to
wait.

Harith glanced up as
Gossamer stood by the door. ‘Hello my dear. I’m glad you’ve
come.’

‘You are?’ Gossamer
asked in surprise.

The healer nodded. ‘I
believe it is good to have people here, for the First Daughter to
perhaps hear the different voices around her. Khosa is a wonderful
companion. I’m quite sure the First Daughter will recognise her the
moment she wakes.’

Gossamer felt the man’s
optimism was genuine: he truly believed Lerran would wake. But
Gossamer found she had more belief in Corman’s sad pessimism. Her
arms tightened around Akomi and woke him. He peered sleepily over
her arm and saw Khosa crouched at the head of Lerran’s bed. He
struggled, and Gossamer stepped forward, letting the cat down on
the bed cover. Akomi walked carefully up beside Lerran’s still body
and joined Khosa, their purrs throbbing like heartbeats.

Gossamer Tewk forced
her gaze up to stare at Lerran’s face. She closed her eyes, her
fists clenching by her sides. Then she looked again, made herself
take note of every twisted feature. At last the rigidity in her
shoulders relaxed a little. Gossamer leaned over and touched first
Khosa, then Akomi. Two pairs of eyes stared up unblinking, one pair
vivid turquoise, the other golden.

‘I will stay a while,’
Akomi told her. ‘But I’ll find you later.’

‘Silly old cat.’
Khosa’s mind voice held an affectionate tone. ‘They’ll come to no
harm here.’

Akomi’s eyes closed. ‘I
like to watch over them,’ he retorted.

To her astonishment,
Gossamer found herself smiling. So that old cat thought he was able
to protect her? Her smile remained even as she looked again at what
had been Lerran’s lovely face. She turned to the healer.

‘I’ll come again if I
may.’

Harith beamed. ‘That
would be splendid.’

Gossamer walked back
down the passage and stopped beside Corman. They stared at each
other and once more she found tears blurring her vision. Corman’s
arms went round her, his cheek rested lightly on her hair. And for
the first time since she was seven years old, Gossamer Tewk allowed
a man, who was not a paying customer, to hold her and offer her
simple comfort.

Chapter
Eighteen

The scout, Chak, had
been sent, with Weasel, to one of the Eagle villages. There, an
elderly man spoke to him at length and examined the obsidian disk
Chak wore. It was concluded that the wild clans north of Kelshan
had much in common with the tribes of the Dark Realm. More elderly
men arrived in the village and subjected Chak to intense
questioning. They found more similarities between the Eagle Clan of
the north and the Eagle Tribe here, than they found
differences.

The old men tried to
question Weasel but he obdurately refused to discuss where his
origins lay. He admitted to being of clan blood but would not say
which. Tempers began to rise until Chak swore he trusted Weasel and
offered his own life in forfeit should Weasel prove false. Cully
and Keff had been sent lower, to another Bear village overlooking
the distant plains. They were not distrusted, but The Bear thought
it best for them to be beyond the range of any battle.

This morning Emas was
turning out a cupboard in the bedroom she shared with her husband.
Jerkins followed woollen jackets which flew after shirts, hurled
over her shoulder onto the floor behind. She muttered constantly as
she picked through various garments which she had suddenly decided
were quite unfit for her husband to wear any longer. When she
backed out of the cupboard, she surveyed the jumbled clothes and
blew wild tendrils of greying hair off her face.

Menagol and Theap had
sneaked away two days ago; she’d skin them both when they got back.
But this morning her husband had gone as well. She conceded that he
had bidden her a proper farewell rather than sneaking away like
those two boys. Emas had been in the kitchen when The Bear stood in
the doorway, filling the large space. He wore a soft grey shirt she
had made for him last winter, a sleeveless jerkin of toughened grey
leather over it. His great double headed axe was across his back
and knife hilts bristled from his belt and under his arms. He held
a great skull in one hand, his dark honey eyes fixed on
her.

‘Your blessing,
wife.’

Emas opened her mouth
to scream at him, closed it and swallowed hard. She could not see
her man leave for battle with her curses ringing in his ears. She
stared up at him, refusing to let tears come into her eyes or the
lump in her throat clog her voice.

‘As daughter, and as
wife, and as mother of Bears, my blessing travels whatever trails
you take.’

He nodded once and
turned away, strapping the bear skull over his own head and
becoming, wholly, The Bear. Emas followed him to the outer door and
watched him stride down the steps then turn to the north. Behind
him came some twenty or so warriors. Their faces determined, they
trotted almost silently as The Bear led them out of the village.
Emas watched until the last warrior disappeared from view and then
stormed back to their bedroom to sort out the clothes
cupboard.

Lemos found her there
some time later sitting on the bed with a much mended, shabby
woollen jacket over her knees. He sat beside her and took one of
her hands in his. She leaned closer against his shoulder but
neither spoke. They had come from the same womb, only moments
apart. They often found they had no need for words between
them.

Soon after the
following dawn, The Bear and his warriors were in place, further
north of Sergeant Peach and his men, and also lower on the
mountain. They knew the exiled Prince Jemin was beyond the ridge
north and west of the Ghost Falls, less than a quarter of a league
away. They settled down to wait.

General Whilk had
looked forward to dealing with Strannik at least, but he was
worried about the ordinary foot guards. He’d explained his
misgivings to Jemin: that many of those guards were simply obeying
orders over which they had no control. Whilk was also unnerved
after Jemin introduced him to four of his squad members. Their
black uniforms were untidy: one wore an oddly shaped hat, another a
very dented metal helmet.

‘These are my
engineers,’ Jemin explained.

Engineers? The General
understood engineers were people who could construct bridges in
awkward places, could plan road systems and drainage, and blast
their way, with their strange chemicals, in mining regions.
Therefore General Whilk saw no reason for engineers to be in this
group of fighters.

‘They’ve come well
supplied,’ Jemin continued. ‘Show the General some of what you’ve
got, Dog.’

The one wearing the
battered helmet knelt to unfasten a pack. Whilk blinked, aware only
now that Dog was a woman. Probably. She carefully removed a box,
then raised the lid. Four clay pots nestled inside, wrapped in
fleecy wadding, each about the size of an apple. The man with the
strange hat grinned at the General.

‘Just one of those
would probably blow up the whole barracks.’

Jemin also grinned.
‘And I trust you’ve plenty more between you Rose?’

‘’Course we have.’ Rose
scowled now, offended by such a stupid remark.

General Whilk found he
was unable to smile or nod. He noticed Rose’s hands shook like a
man with a fever, but he appeared healthy.

‘Off you go then. Work
round and make sure you block the trail when the very last of them
are through the pass.’ Jemin waved them away.

The General watched the
four engineers shamble up a steep and narrow goat trail.

Jemin followed his
gaze. ‘Let’s hope none of them trip up,’ he said
cheerfully.

Whilk cleared his
throat but found he was still speechless. They’d rejoined the rest
of the men before the General felt capable of words.

‘Those things,’ he
said. ‘They were mining explosives weren’t they?’

Jemin shrugged. ‘Don’t
know what you might call them; the engineers call them
poppers.’

The men settled to
wait, seemingly relaxed but all knowing that the first Kelshans
would be in sight before noon. General Whilk sat a little apart,
trying to work out how exactly he came to be in this situation. One
of his officers, Kestis, hunkered beside him.

‘We are sworn to you
General, you know that. But I heard that the Bear tribe have vowed
to let no Kelshan survive to return to their homes.’

The General sighed. ‘I
have spoken of this to the Prince. He has promised that any guards
who surrender, will be allowed to live peacefully within this
Realm.’ He raised his head to look Kestis squarely in the face.
‘Should any who surrender then try to escape, they will be
killed.’

Kestis chewed his lip.
‘I have to say sir, that sounds more just than our dealings have
been with the wild clans over the last years.’

Whilk
frowned.

Kestis lowered his
voice. ‘How many women and children has the Imperatrix allowed to
be slaughtered sir? I’ve seen it myself. I thank all the gods and
goddesses that I have never done those things but that was mainly
luck that I avoided having to do them. I often wonder, in the
darkest nights, what I would have done had I been directly ordered
to such actions.’

Whilk nodded slowly.
‘You are right Kestis, and thank you for your timely words. We will
try to persuade as many guards as we can to lay down their
arms.’

Then Kestis spoiled the
General’s lightened mood. ‘Where were those four men off to just
now sir – the Prince’s men? Scruffy group I thought. Surprising
when they serve the Prince himself.’

Those engineers were
beginning to enjoy themselves in the bizarre manner of engineers.
They’d dropped from the high path to the main trail and Dog was
reverently burying a set of poppers under loose stones about head
height on the eastern slope. Onion was busy burying more straight
across the floor of the trail. Rose was watching them, a maniacal
glint in his eyes, hands trembling badly. Darrick came sprinting
towards them, his pack clasped to his chest as if it was a delicate
babe. All four scurried back up to the goat path and moved
cautiously north as instructed. Engineers took their fun where they
could.

Darrick in the lead,
they wound through the pass. An occasional muttered curse came from
Rose when his footing slipped. Dog and Onion exchanged glances.
Rose had a definite flair for the imaginative use of explosives but
his nerves had suffered. The hint of insanity had increased of late
and his companions kept a careful eye on him.

The sound of voices and
booted feet came to them and the engineers ducked low behind the
boulders edging their path. Onion and Darrick left their packs with
Dog and squirmed around until they could get a glimpse of the trail
below. Dog sat watching Rose with mounting worry. She’d never seen
him this bad before. Their group had been quite busy during the
last year, ever since the mines, near the Dark Realm’s north
eastern coast, had flooded.