Heartwood (50 page)

He rubbed his arms, which throbbed painfully as the blood coursed through them. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me,” she said briskly. “It is in my best interests to keep you well for our journey. It is not done out of the kindness of my heart.”

“Of course not,” he said, accepting some bread and cheese from her, and eating hungrily. He felt surprisingly cheerful, in spite of her words. He was still alive, and at last, the dreaded shackles were off. Of course, she would be watching him like a cat. But she had to sleep sometime, he thought. And he had made a living out of blending in with nature. When he disappeared, he would make sure she would never find him.

They left Harlton Forest and started to bear east to avoid the Tail Ridge of the Spina Mountains. Amerle was a beautiful land, Teague thought: a softly rolling landscape of hills and dales, covered with sheep like specks of fluff on a green blanket. However, he began to realise how much the rain was starting to affect Anguis; although not heavy, the continual drizzle had caused the rivers to rise and there was flooding in some fields, the crops drooping miserably and animals huddling under trees to escape the non-stop downpour. They passed over a river and stopped on the bridge to look down at the water gushing below; though it had not yet burst its banks, the river was a deep brown colour, thick and heavy as a too-long-boiled stew, and turbulent as if filled with nervous energy. It would not be long before the rivers started rising too far to be contained, and that would mean disaster to this already-suffering land.

He noticed that after seeing the river, Beata picked up the pace a little, not pushing the horses too hard but no longer travelling at the slow walk they had been. She was obviously as aware as he was that Anguis's time was running out.

They spent the first night in a small inn, in a settlement little bigger than a hamlet, mainly used for travellers passing from Harlton to Cuddington, as they were. There was only one room available, and so he spent the night sleeping next to Beata, but every time he turned to look at her, he saw her deep blue eyes shining and knew she was watching him. When she slept, he did not know, but it was quickly becoming clear to him he was going to have to take a risk if he really meant to escape.

His opportunity came when they stopped at Prampton. He had passed through it before and remembered it as a bustling trading post, full of people travelling across Laxony, its inns packed with merchants and messengers on the business of local dignitaries. As they rode into it now, however, he found it quiet and empty, as if the rain had washed away all the people and all the life in it. The roads were ankle-deep with mud, and their horses splashed through the water lying in rapidly growing pools around the houses.

For the first time, Teague was frightened. He had seen flooding before, of course, but he could sense this was something different. He thought about what Beata had said, that he could help fight back against the Darkwater Lords, but he could not see how. Deep down, he knew he had a power others did not seem to have, but it was an instinctive thing, and he had no idea how he could be of help to anyone. If he left, then Beata would return to Heartwood, and they would forget about him, and he could hide away in the forests somewhere, and nobody would ever find him.

Beata led him to an inn, and they rented a room for the night. It was almost dark, and they were both sodden from the continual rain. They left the horses in the inn's stable with the stablehand and made their way inside. There was a roaring log fire, and she ordered food and ale, which he consumed with relish, knowing it might be a while before he got any more.

Beata ate little and did not engage him in conversation. He was content to sit in silence and ate looking into the fire, planning his escape.

After they had eaten, they went up to their room. There was a small fire there, and Beata stripped and hung her wet clothes over the clothing stand and placed it near the flames. Teague tried not to look at her but found his eyes drawn to her slim, pale body shining in the darkness of the room like the rising Light Moon. She ignored him, and he remembered what she had said about living a communal life, that she was used to undressing and even bathing in front of both men and women. She certainly had no sense of embarrassment or self-consciousness, which he found strange, as women usually undressed coyly, shy as they revealed themselves to him. Yet again, it drew attention to the fact that she was so different from all the other women he had ever met. He watched her pull on a set of clothes from her bag and dress, then come over to lie beside him on the pallet. He lay on his left side, facing her, and closed his eyes.

For a while he stayed still. She moved restlessly beside him, then after a while, she relaxed. He waited as long as he could, then slowly opened his eyes. He was startled to see her blue ones open, fixed on him. He blinked and lowered his eyelids again, feigning sleepiness. Irritation burned inside him. Did she never sleep?

This time, he left it a long while before he opened his eyes again. He listened to her breathing slow, and for a while he dozed too, warmed by the fire and the food in his belly. Some time later, he roused. He opened his eyes slowly. At last, she was asleep.

Like a cat, he got to his feet, hardly making a sound. He was helped by the rain, which pounded mercilessly on the shutters, dampening any sound he might have made. He was already dressed, and he did not stop to take anything. Quietly, he let himself out the door, then quickly descended the stairs.

The inn was quiet, and he met no one on the way to the front door. He lifted the latch as carefully as he could; it squeaked a little, and he grimaced but did not stop, sliding out of the gap and closing the door behind him. Swiftly, he made his way around to the stables. The stable door was closed, and when he tested it, he found it bolted from the inside.

He cursed under his breath. The rain seemed to be coming down even heavier, running down his face, blinding him, his clothing completely soaked. The rain ran out of his boots in rivulets. He would have to leave the horse and try to steal another on the way, he thought. He could not waste more time before leaving the town.

He turned – and immediately felt as if he had walked into a solid wall. Beata's fist met his nose with an audible crunch, and blood spurted immediately down his face, into his mouth and all down his clothing. His knees wobbled and he fell backwards, landing in the mud with a resounding squelch.

He looked up at the knight standing over him. There was a little light coming from the house across the road and she was silhouetted against this, a towering figure wielding a heavy sword. He didn't have to see her face to know it would be thunderous.

She moved before he could blink, delivering a blow between his legs with her foot that made him curl up in pain. “What was that for?” he said in a hoarse voice. “I was already on the ground.”

“That was for ruining my only dry set of clothes,” she yelled. With a final blow, she knocked him across the head, and then the mud and the rain melded into the darkness and everything went black.

 

IV

Chonrad stood atop the Porta, the sodden canopy above him dripping sporadically on his head, and looked down at the Flumen that flowed to the north of Isenbard's Wall. It was within inches of bursting its banks, and from the increasingly dark colour of the clouds above his head, he knew it would not be long before that happened.

Behind him, he could hear Valens and Procella arguing with half a dozen Laxonian officials. They had arrived at Heartwood with a plea to send the Exercitus back to man the Wall against the Wulfians. As Chonrad knew too well, their reQuest was highly justified, and he had no doubt the towns south of the Wall were suffering greatly from the Wulfian raids. However, he also knew Valens had no intention of letting the Exercitus out of his sight, and he understood why. The Exercitus was needed for the imminent raid on Heartwood, and nothing was going to make Valens send it away and leave Heartwood vulnerable. The Wall was still manned with local troops, Valens was arguing; they would have to do for now.

Chonrad sighed, feeling strangely lonely. He had not realised how much he had grown used to having Fulco around him until he was there no longer. Though of course his bodyguard had been unable to talk, and his constant presence had meant Chonrad forgot he was there more often than not, it was now very strange not to see him at all. Chonrad folded his arms, not sure if it was his eyes misting or merely the low cloud that seemed to be settling over the Baillium. He felt humbled to think Fulco had died saving his life. It was very odd how it had happened; Fulco saving his life so he could save Procella's. It was almost as if it were meant to be…

Fulco's last message to him rang around his head:
Arbor… You are the key…
Procella had asked him what Fulco had signed and Chonrad had said it was nothing, just the nonsensical ramblings of a dying man. But he had pondered on the words ever since. You are the key? What could he have meant? Was he just saying he had an important part to play in the saving of the Arbor, as they all had? Or was it something more mysterious, a message he was supposed to convey…?

Chonrad shook his head. It was just fanciful talk. The man had been in incredible pain, aware of the fact that within minutes he would be dead – he had just been trying to convey his feelings for his overlord, to somehow express his emotions towards the man who had been his companion for thirty or so years. It was nothing more than that.

The conversation was growing increasingly heated, and he sighed again, wishing he had chosen to remain in the Castellum. But truth was the presence of the dying Arbor depressed him, and he had been glad to get out of there.

His mood had lifted a little when on arrival at Heartwood, his party discovered both Grimbeald and Niveus had returned from their Quests, and also both Quest parties had been successful, and the Nodes had been opened. This news had filled everyone with hope, but the price that had been paid soon sobered everyone's mood. Tenera had been seriously injured, brought back to Heartwood on a pallet, stricken with some sort of sickness, and Grimbeald had been beside himself with worry about her. And Niveus's description of the suffering her party had endured had filled everyone with anger. Chonrad had felt an immense sadness at the thought of poor Gavius and his companions and what they had been made to go through. Hopefully, the price was worth it, he thought fiercely.

After the returning people had rested, the Militis had held a ceremony for the death of Gavius, Mellis, Brevis, Hodie, Hora and Fulco. Valens had refused to include Dolosus in the list of the dead, unable to accept he had gone for good, and Procella had not argued with him. But the Imperator had been shaken by their news that Dolosus had vanished. It was clear to Chonrad that Valens thought of Dolosus as more than just a Dean, and his disappearance was a real blow to his morale.

Chonrad wondered how Dolosus was faring. Had he been killed outright during Nitesco's attempt to transform them? Or had it actually been successful, and was he at that moment somewhere deep at the bottom of the sea? He couldn't bring himself to believe that was true. But then, he had witnessed many odd things over the past few weeks; he had to keep an open mind to all possibilities.

Avoiding the arguing party to one side of the battlements, Chonrad walked across to look out over Heartwood. The Baillium was busy, seething with the Exercitus who occupied themselves preparing weapons and reinforcing the already formidable fortifications. He wondered whether the Darkwater Lords would find it easy to breach the walls. If it were any ordinary army, he would have said no, but who knew what tricks these strange elementals had up their watery sleeves?

The mist was definitely getting worse, he thought, as if the very clouds were descending and perching on top of Heartwood. He shivered, the cold biting deep into his bones. He was not a fanciful man, but through the greyness, the Castellum seemed menacing, like a giant insect waiting for unsuspecting prey. He thought about the Arbor inside, a symbol of the decay spreading throughout the land. Resentment surged through him that he was here, in Heartwood, about to risk his life to defend it, when he should be at home in Vichton with his family. What would happen when Heartwood finally fell? For fall it would, he was sure of it. Would it, in fact, make any difference to the rest of Anguis? Or would everyone carry on with their lives, oblivious to what had happened?

Across the Baillium, there was a sudden surge of movement accompanied by loud shouts, and he frowned, watching as a group of Exercitus spilled out from the Custodes Barracks onto the grass. Behind them, a group of figures in dark armour followed them, and immediately hand-to-hand fighting broke out across the grass. Chonrad yelled, and Procella and Valens turned to see what was happening. Chonrad clenched the stone parapet – was it happening early? Had Darkwater invaded? But even as the thought went through his head, Valens snarled, “Komis!”

“Komis?” Chonrad's head whirled. “But how did they get in?”

Valens and Procella exchanged a look as they all hurriedly began to descend the stairs, leaving the Laxonian officials behind to argue amongst themselves what to do now. Procella looked over her shoulder at Chonrad and said, “There is a secret passageway beneath the Barracks into the forest to the south. We informed the Quest Leaders of it in case a siege was underway when they returned. The Komis must have extracted that information from Gavius.”

Chonrad gritted his teeth. Were they all to die before the Darkwater Lords even got there?

They ran down the stairs, through the weapons room and then along to the main entrance, Procella barking orders all the while to the Custodes they passed. The main drawbridge was up and the portcullis lowered, as it had been since the Darkwater Lords first invaded, but she placed extra guards there anyway, just in case the Komis decided to try a two-pronged attack.