Guild Wars: Ghosts of Ascalon (19 page)

However, what he said was: “How long do we have to find her?”

“An hour, at the outside,” Kranxx answered, irritated. “One thing I did while I was out was to prepare a small incendiary in my old workshop. The smoke should alert the guards, but by the time they put the fire out, I was planning to be long gone.”

“One thing?” said Ember.

“I also thumped on the ostler’s door and demanded he have a large wagon with supplies ready to go for me by noon,” Kranxx replied sharply. “I have no intention to pick up that wagon, but it will delay them further. And I
also
left a note for my assistant that stated I was leaving for Elona and putting the Ebonhawke gate and all attendant responsibilities for dealing with the authorities in his care.” He paused a moment, then added, “I don’t like my assistant that much.”

“Okay,” said Dougal. “Let’s figure a half hour at best.” He looked at the others. “Killeen, any idea where she went?”

“I was asleep,” said the sylvari. “And if you’re
asking about the Dream, it doesn’t work that way.”

“Fine. You come with me anyway,” said Dougal. “Ember, brief Kranxx on the whys and wherefores of what we’re doing. Gullik should understand what we’re facing as well. We should be back within a half hour.”

“And if you are not?” asked Ember.

“We go with your plan,” said Dougal. “You leave without us. We’ll catch up if we can. Killeen, with me.”

Dougal stepped out of the building above the warehouse and cursed inwardly. The sky was already starting to lighten in the east, and the city was coming awake. Already the heavy shutters against the night air were swinging open, and a honey wagon drawn by a heavy dolyak was rattling along the street. No Vanguard in sight, but that was only a matter of minutes. Far in the distance he could hear bugles sounding reveille.

“Right. We split up,” he said. “You go into the city, I’ll head toward the Hawkgates. Ten minutes, then turn back. Don’t get lost.”

“She is up on the battlements,” said Killeen.

“I thought you said the Dream wouldn’t tell you where she was,” said Dougal.

“I still have eyes,” said Killeen. “She’s up there.” And Dougal followed her pointing hand to show Riona, in her traveling cloak, up on one of the city’s interior walls, looking out past the gates.

Dougal set off at once, Killeen following him. He knew the mazework of stairs and streets that was Ebonhawke. The nearest stair up was close at hand

The city itself had been a small fortress, nestled
in the southern juncture of the Shiverpeaks and the Blazeridge mountain range. The steep mountains on several sides provided an ideal location just north of the Crystal Desert. With the Searing, its location grew in importance, and King Adelbern of Ascalon saw it as an ultimate bastion against the charr incursions. In the end, before the Foefire, he dispatched the Ebon Vanguard here to reinforce it.

And reinforce it they did. They spread the initial fortress walls outward, continuing to build as they took more territory against the regular charr raids. They erected the mighty Hawkgates at the northern entrance to the city. They mined the hills behind the walls for stone and made more living space for the refugees from the abandoned human cities to the north. And they trained their growing populace in the dangers that stood right outside their gates, from the siege engines of the charr.

Dougal knew where Riona stood, and why she was there. From that internal wall she could see over the lower walls, past the Hawkgates and all the way to the Fields of Ruin beyond. He climbed the stairs three at a time, leaving the sylvari far behind him.

“Riona,” he said, and she jumped at the sound of his voice. She had not heard him approach.

“Dougal!” she said, her voice confused for a moment, almost weak. “I didn’t hear you.”

“We should go,” he said. “Kranxx is back, and we don’t have much time.”

“I know,” she agreed. “But look.”

He followed her stare and could see it as well, and
the sight stopped him in his tracks, as it always did.

Far to the north and west of the city were the front lines of the charr siege of Ebonhawke. They were positioned at the exact range of the human defensive ballistas—not one foot closer or farther away.

The front line of the charr entrenchments was a line of war wagons, parked in their positions for so long that trees had grown up next to them, providing shade for their crews. The war wagons were mobile walls of metal, each crowned with a spearlike palisade. Joined together in the field, they were an instant fortification for the charr military camps.

Behind them were the camps themselves, and with them a variety of siege engines and military units. Here were siege devourers, living engines of destruction, also equipped with ballista and cannon. In years past, when the charr improved their range, they pelted the walls and closer human districts with heavy stones and burning pitch. When the human machines could reach them, they pulled back farther and established new lines. The Iron Legion, the legion that had the most interest in engines of destruction, had been in charge of the siege for over a century, and used the city as a testing ground for its latest developments.

There were flames along the line: bonfires and forges and cooking fires for the awakening military units. There was the sound of distant horns—loud, blaring trumpets—and drums. The charr were waking to war as well.

Dougal looked out and saw what he had seen in his youth: the front lines of the war with the charr. In his
days and nights here, in the cauldron of war, every day there had been sallies from the fortress and assaults on the walls. It was a hard, brutal life, and one became hard in return.

Or one left, as he and the others did. Leaving Riona behind.

Killeen had caught up with them. “We were worried,” she said to Riona. “The others are waiting.”

Riona shook her head and said, “I don’t know.”

“We should go,” Dougal repeated, tearing himself away from the sight of what had for so many years been the enemy. And still was.

“I think I have to stay,” said Riona. “I have doubts about what we’re doing. I thought I didn’t, but now that I’m back here, I feel myself falling back into what I once was—that we should be here, not at the Vigil or trying to find lost treasures. We should be here to protect Ebonhawke.”

“Riona, that’s wrong,” said Dougal.

“We have guards coming up,” said Killeen, suddenly and clearly. Dougal looked to his left and saw a pair of Vanguard moving along the battlement toward them. They were moving with the slow, relaxed pace of two soldiers near the end of their duty shift. They were not actively seeking charr who had broken into the Fortress City, or the humans that had aided it.

For that, Dougal was thankful, but when he turned back to Riona, he saw that her face had fallen and she seemed on the verge of falling apart.

“I will delay them,” said Killeen. “You talk to her.” Before Dougal could stop her, she moved toward the
guards, letting her hood drop to reveal her long, vegetative braids.

Dougal turned back to Riona. “This was all your idea,” he said firmly.

“I know,” she said, and sighed deeply, her forehead furrowing. “And when it was just finding you, and then sneaking into an ancient human city, it seemed doable. Now we have picked up a menagerie of castoffs and volunteers. And the more our numbers grow, the less likely we are going to succeed.”

Dougal shrugged in agreement. “The less likely we will succeed without losing people.”

Riona lowered her chin to her chest. “We could go off on our own.”

Dougal started, but Riona continued hurriedly, “Two humans could sneak out of here easier than our clown carnival. Norn, charr, sylvari, and now an asura. Hardly the easiest party to conceal in open fields. We could reach Ascalon City, retrieve the Claw, and return it here, to Ebonhawke. Then we could keep it here. It would be a coup, a rallying point for our people.”

“And for the charr as well,” said Dougal. “If the charr thought that the Claw was here, they would stop at nothing to regain it. It would be worse than the worst of the assaults of seventy years ago, when the charr reached the base of the outer walls and undermined the outer district.”

“You think so?” said Riona, and slid closer to him, her eyes never leaving the quiet battlefield.

“Look at it this way,” said Dougal. “The charr want the Claw so badly that they are willing to talk about
peace with the humans. What do
you
think?”

Riona nodded. “If this peace faction—”

“Truce faction,” said Dougal.

“Truce faction,” repeated Riona. “If they get the Claw, they will be able to force the rest of the charr to at least lift the siege and start talking. That’s the theory.”

“And then maybe we’ll finally get a better view from here.” Dougal kept his voice light, but Riona just scowled and stared at the charr front lines. Then she said, “You were right.”

Dougal looked at her and she continued. “I froze back there, at the gate. I thought I could come up with a way to get us all past the guards if there was trouble, but when the time came, I found myself empty. I’m just rattled. Second-guessing myself.”

Dougal’s lips became a thin line, and he chose his words carefully. “This is about Ember.”

“Do you trust her?” asked Riona. “Really?”

Dougal said, “She is part of your order. She is a crusader for the Vigil.”

“I know,” said Riona. “And I don’t feel that way about General Soulkeeper. She’s a charr, too, one that fought our people for many years. But the way Ember acts, she reminds me so much of … them.” She pointed a chin at the distant war wagons.

“If it helps, I feel the same way,” said Dougal. “After five minutes with Soulkeeper, I could forget she was charr. She commands naturally, and everything else just flows from that. Ember is part of her people, just like we’re part of ours. You can see her struggle when she talks to us.”

“Like I’m struggling,” said Riona. “Still, I want you to know that I’m glad I found you. I’m glad you’re here.
You
I trust.” She slid close to him, and despite himself, he raised his arm to hold her. The weight of the locket felt heavy around his neck.

“I trust you too,” said Dougal. “And this will pass. No matter what that Kranxx says, Soulkeeper’s plan is a good one. We will get the Claw. Together. Promise.”

They stood there for a long moment, and Dougal realized he had forgotten about Killeen talking to the guards. When he turned, Riona was still in his arms and the sylvari was heading toward them, raising her hood again. The guards were wandering back the way they had come from.

“Are we ready?” asked Killeen.

“I think so,” said Dougal. Riona separated from him and nodded. They started down the steps.

“I had a curious chat with the guards,” said Killeen. “It is interesting what people will tell you when you look at them with wide eyes and act like you just fell out of the tree. Apparently the siege has been quiet for the past few months: no new assaults from the charr lines. And, more interestingly, a moratorium on this side from sallies and patrols. They say some bigwigs made the decision.”

“The truce faction,” said Dougal, “and the queen.”

“Yes,” said Killeen, “but it is making everyone here very, very nervous. They are expecting some huge charr assault, and a lot of the human soldiers want to attack now, before it comes.”

“You took a huge risk,” said Riona. “They could
have been looking for us.”

“Everyone saw the charr; most would remember the norn,” said Killeen. “Very few would pay attention to the sylvari in a cloak.”

“How did you explain us?” asked Dougal. They were already at the door of the warehouse.

“I told them you were young lovers making a rendezvous,” said Killeen, “and acted like I did not know what that meant. They thought that was amusing as well.”

By the time they had gotten back to the secret warehouse, the others were ready. Kranxx was packing a backpack with numerous small parcels carefully wrapped in waterproof waxed paper. Ember was fitting herself into the armor Gullik had been carrying on his back: sleek, black lacquered plates that glided silently over each other. For his part, Gullik was stroking his scruffy chin and, for the first time, seemed to be deep in thought. Riona picked up her helmet and quickly strapped on her scabbard.

“We’re late,” said Kranxx, hoisting the satchel onto his back and grabbing a loose piece of cloth that, only when he put it on his wide head, was recognizable as a hat. He pulled out a small lantern and lit it.

“You’re in your armor,” Riona said to Ember firmly.

“Kranxx pointed out that if we are spotted, whether I am wearing armor or not is a moot point,” replied the charr, adjusting her scabbard and resting a hand on a heavy charr-made pistol on her opposite hip.

“At least have Gullik carry your weapons,” said Riona. “And wear the shackles.”

Anger flashed in Ember’s eyes, and Dougal added, “At least until we’re clear of the city.”

Ember looked at Dougal. Dougal nodded toward Riona. Letting the air out in a long, hissing breath, Ember unfastened her belt and handed it, scabbard, sword, and holstered pistol to the norn. Then she held up her wrists once more. Gullik fished out the chains and Riona fitted them, loosely but locked, once more on her wrists and neck.

“Until we’re clear of the city,” said Ember, looking harshly at Dougal.

Kranxx poked his head through the door, then motioned for the others to follow. It was almost light now, the eastern sky reddening and drawing back the widow’s veil that had hung protectively on Ebonhawke.

Then something exploded off to the north, just beyond the first wall. Screams and shouts sounded right after, and a call to arms went up among the Vanguard. Kranxx’s letter of resignation.

Quickly but not panicked, the asura ducked into the mouth of an alley, then hustled everyone in after him. They huddled there in the darkness as a column of soldiers in black-and-gold uniforms tromped past, racing from their barracks to the (hopefully) now-burning shop.

Dougal watched the faces of the soldiers as they passed their hiding place: grim, weary, and determined. These were people who hated their jobs but were proud to do them and refused to falter for an instant. Dougal had been one of their number, as had Riona. To see them in action again, marching off to protect the city, made him flush with shame for not being among them.
He felt grateful that the alley stood shrouded in darkness so that no one would see.