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Authors: Janny Wurts

Tags: #Speculative Fiction, #Science Fiction, #Fantasy

Stormed Fortress (87 page)

BOOK: Stormed Fortress
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Elaira laid her head back as the vehicle surged forward, eyes shut and shallow breaths steadied. Use of her training reined in jagged fear and sustained her through the jouncing passage. When the carriage arrived, and Talvish jumped down from the groom
'
s perch, she no longer required his ready support.

Across the plank-bridge, with Glendien following, she rushed the staircase towards Arithon
'
s quarters, braced for a fight, and prepared to match adamant force against Dakar
'
s wardings. Instead, she confronted the shocking reverse: the doorway stood open before her. The fear blinded, that she was too late, with the ritual binding of Arithon
'
s spirit already complete. Yet Kyrialt guarded the head of the landing, his unrestrained welcome unstringing her dark net of panic.

'
They chose not to go forward!
'
Elaira exclaimed.
'
Has wise council prevailed?
'
Then, caught by the driving anxiety behind the clan liegeman
'
s relief,
'
What happened?
'

'
The
Paravian sword would not rouse for this hour
'
s cry of appeal,
'
the young liegeman revealed.
'
You are needed, if only to console the raw heartache left by that failure.
'

Elaira gasped, fuming,
'
Consolation is not the course I have in mind.
'
She brushed past, with Glendien panting at heel to share in the thrill of explosion.

Except Kyrialt
'
s grip closed on his wife
'
s wrist. No regret for brisk handling, he snapped her short.
'
You, my most brazen, are not going in there! The Koriani mate
'
s ripped enough to taste blood. While she goes for the throat, her man doesn
'
t need such as you, whetting teeth for a lunge at his bollocks.
'

Before Glendien
'
s protesting jerk could break free, Elaira slammed the strapped oak panel with a thud to bang chips from stone masonry.

Inside the shut chamber, the light shone too thin, the flickering fish-oil lamp fiercely trimmed to spare fuel. What the low flame obscured, mage-sight must unveil through taut patience. Poised to one side, Dakar
'
s defenceless misery would have caused his retreat, had Elaira
'
s instinctive gesture not stopped him. Unwilling to apologize for duty-bound trust, he endured, his beard and screwed hair reflecting the strain on plump features.

'
Did you think I would shout?
'
Elaira snapped, saddened.
'
Then your past choice in Halwythwood has taught you nothing!
'

She moved onwards, searching gaze shifted to the other stilled figure, found seated under the Mad Prophet
'
s shadow. Arithon
'
s wide-opened eyes met her as she reached the trestle where Alithiel rested, unsheathed. The black steel abided, its gateway to mystery opaque. The glassine rune inlay gleamed coldly quiescent, all prismatic rainbows muted. Like the blade
'
s shuttered promise, the beautiful, bard
'
s hands on the boards did not shift as, unflinching, the man accepted her furious scrutiny.

'
You saw no other way to spare Fionn Areth,
'
Elaira apprised at delicate length.

The sigh of relief was Dakar
'
s, released by the startling grace of her empathy.

'
No one else realized
'
he stated, gruff.
'
At the outset, I didn
'
t perceive that wretched angle, either.
'

Elaira found the bench, pulled the seat out, and perched. Her chilled fingers were too numbed to grapple the fastenings to shed her mantle. Bone-tired, and edging on sickness herself from the ingrained reek of dried blood and iodine, she swallowed. The straightforward ease of her honesty faltered, as she picked her spare words through like thorns. "The grass-lander
'
s stubborn. He has not grown enough to concede that forgiveness does not demand punishment. We may have to accept that he can
'
t be extricated. If not, our lapse in protection at this pass may not be accounted a failure.
'

'
Your own heart would not rest,
'
Prince Arithon said. Nothing more. Yet the sure, fluid move that broke his stillness arose too fast to assimilate. Poised behind her, he slid his hands under and through her pinned hair and eased the wrapped braid from confinement. Beneath the fall of her crimped auburn locks, his touch mapped the wire-strung ache in her neck, then lightly shifted in a proprietary caress across the mantle that dragged at her collar-bones. The loop catch slid free. The burdensome wool tumbled onto the floor, replaced by his warmth as he straddled the bench and drew her shaking frame into his embrace.

His dangling response stayed unfinished, until her head nestled into his shoulder.
'
After all, you once left Fionn
'
s fate in my hands.
The right choice.
I will not abdicate.
'

Dakar
'
s leashed calm suggested an argument forced into simmering abeyance. Elaira tried anyway. The issue had to be thrashed over again, if only for form
'
s sake, and despite the cruel culpability that her own oath-tied burden forced her to weather. She steeled for the course.
'
What comes of your commitment if the goatherd
'
s free will insists otherwise?
'

Arithon
'
s clasped fingers tightened and held. "Then he chooses. But with the clear road to claim freedom opened and secured before him.
'

And
that
sparked explosion, an incensed cry torn from her stung heart.
'
Not at the cost of your sacrifice! Arithon! If Feylind were alive, she
'
d back this fight, tooth and nail by innate woman
'
s wisdom. My hurt is not blameless!
I
helped shapechange that child.
You can
'
t lift that pain from me, however you try. Fionn Areth himself never asked for your help. He has not offered a trustworthy friendship. I will not see your life thrown to risk for an undervalued relationship!
'

Arithon waited, steady. The torrent that broke loose was too friable, begun in lone anguish on the cold, Araethurian night when the order
'
s might had compelled an untenably harsh set of choices.
'
Fionn
'
s character, or lack of it, does not revoke his birthright.
'
The correction was careful, almost too mild to declare an unbreachable stance.
'
Rathain
'
s chartered provenance makes that boy
'
s cause mine for what he has suffered in violation. As a subject under crown auspices, he bears my explicit claim of protection.
'

Upwelling tears snapped Elaira
'
s last poise. Dakar seized the moment and arose on quiet feet, assured he could quit the arena. Love
'
s tenacity must now secure the thread of Rathain
'
s threatened legacy. The armed core of Arithon
'
s will was exposed, and the pitfall that terrorized foresight: that if the extreme escape plan went forward, and a repeat attempt could unleash Alithiel
'
s power, with the last Teir
'
s
'
Ffalenn moved to imbue his stripped spirit into the awakened sword, the ungrateful ally might snatch that opportune opening for his betrayal.

The muted clink of the door-latch signalled the gift of the couple
'
s privacy. No other disturbance would visit tonight, to intrude on that haven of shared solitude. Arithon laid his cheek overtop of Elaira
'
s head. While the lamp-flame fluttered, and silence settled, fragrant with the herbal melange wafted up from the downstairs still-room, he cradled her searing flood of distress.

Unrushed, at due length, he addressed her in soft quiet, "This is not about Fionn Areth, entirely
'

A shudder raked through her.
'
You know me too well.
'

'
Ah, beloved!
'
Tenderness infused Arithon
'
s touch as he mapped the true source of her misery.
'
You are regretting your return to the citadel. Don
'
t. Did you fear that my measure to disarm this cursed conflict may also have been tried in your behalf?
'

Not waiting for answer, Arithon shifted his grip. He tipped her cupped face to his matchless regard.
'
Do you know of your worth to me? Hush! Words can
'
t fathom the substance. Forget the conniving hooks of your Matriarch. Regrets of all kind are not seemly. My joy in your presence remains without fault, no matter what straits lie against us.
'
As her eyes welled again and spilled over, he smiled.
'
Never doubt
'
He bent farther and kissed. The salt tears on her lips were absorbed, then melted away by an onslaught of caring too sweet for denial.

Dakar kept his jagged urgency hidden from Kyrialt
'
s sight. He dodged from the stairwell into the still-room, grateful that Glendien
'
s tasked work engrossed her with restocking the remedies. He moved abreast of her, yawning, then flipped off a critical comment that hackled her to a flush.

'
Braying jackass!
'
Glaring daggers, she snapped,
'
Where were you? Bent over kissing your bollocks while the brave fallen lay in their blood, dying?
'

'
Why, bouncing the jennet
'
Dakar cracked with a smirk. She flailed at him with a pestle. He ducked, chased safely past striking range. Out of the far door without flagging her inquisitive instincts, he dropped his buffoonery and bolted for the ground floor. Outside the guest keep, his pounding rush collided with Talvish, striding inbound across the foot-bridge, since squaring affairs with the coachman.

Rammed to a grunt on sharp impact, the swordsman
'
s field reflexes saved them both from a tumble into the snowy ravine.
'
Fiends plague, Dakar!
'
Mail-clad fingers relaxed their vexed grasp and shoved the spellbinder back upright.

'
If you
'
ve unearthed another rough crisis, we
'
ve got trouble ganged up on all fronts already.
'

Chill slid like a blade through Dakar
'
s layered cloaks. No mistaking
that
tone of urgent concern, though the scud of cloud obscured the expression beneath the guardsman
'
s spiked helm. The Alliance
'
s whelming assault has begun?
'

'
On-going, and laying on pressure like vengeance.
'
Talvish darted an unsettled glance to his rear, that the action took place without him.
'
Sea Gate
'
s holding out. Can
'
t last, up against Lysaer
'
s perishing numbers. The duke
'
s critical short-fall
'
s going to be the hard fact that we
'
re now under strength.
'

Which was Arithon
'
s doing; blame would come to roost. Talvish
'
s razor-thin nerves gave that warning.

The Mad Prophet tugged his rumpled cloak back to rights, uneasy for another reason.
'
Where is Fionn Areth?
'

Talvish frowned.
'
Haven
'
t seen him.
'
He was on fighting edge:
that fast,
he fielded the change in pursuit.
'
Not since he delivered the wretched bad news, that
Evenstar
'
s
snagged in a lash-up.
'

BOOK: Stormed Fortress
9.38Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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