The Godlost Land (54 page)

Chapter Forty Four

The thunder was roaring softly in the distance, and the sound of the rain outside mostly drowned it out. Every now and then there was a flash of light through the window as lightning struck somewhere far away. But Harl was warm and dry in his home, safe in his bed. Comfortable too. When Nyma had arrived early that morning he had swiftly decided that the rest of the day would be better spent in bed with her. It was a decision he had come to many times before and one he had never had cause to regret. He didn't regret it this time either. Not even when he knew that in the morning she would be off somewhere else on her travels while he would have to work twice as hard for twice as long to catch up on the work he'd forgone today.

“You know you could stay longer.” He murmured it into her ear, before he kissed it and made her smile.

“And then neither of us would do our duty.”

She was right, even if he wished she wasn't. They both had duties to carry out. But while she was right, she wasn't exactly objecting to the idea Harl noticed.

“Surely the war can carry on without us for a few days? Your sister seems to have everything in hand. And Dina will protect her. Besides, you're supposed to be protecting me.”

“From your bed?”

“I can't think of a better place! And you can guard me night and day!”

“I'm not sure that I have the stamina.” She giggled into his chest.

But she did, he knew that. And soon he thought, he would again too. He was tired, but never that tired. And for some reason he felt like a youth with her, filled with the vitality and joy only they knew. Still, maybe not just yet. So he settled for kissing some more of her and letting his eyes close over a little. He needed to recover a little strength.

“And where are you off to this time?” He asked but he wasn't actually so curious about where she was going as he was about when she'd be back.

“Glass River, then Vardania. But I'll ride fast.”

He gathered that she understood exactly what his concerns were. Probably because he'd complained like an old woman when she'd headed back to Inel Ison before. Even though she'd ridden like the wind and taken all the back roads she'd been gone a month. That was far too long in his opinion. And he wasn't looking forward to the next time she made that journey. But it was her duty and he knew he could not interfere with it. She would not allow that. Better to talk of other things.

“So your family are vintners?”

He had been surprised by that though he didn't quite know why. Maybe it was because it seemed like such a peaceful background for her to come from. Somehow he just couldn't imagine her treading the grapes or harvesting the vines.

“They make the best honeyed wine in Ilendigo. You'd like it. It tastes of summer.”

“Maybe.” He doubted it though. He wasn't really a great lover of wine. His tastes ran far more to the ales and meads. And Vittus made a really good malted ale that was so thick and foamy it was almost like eating a meal. Then in winter when the snow was heavy, he brewed a concoction he called ice ale that was so potent a single drink could lay a man low. Harl had enjoyed a few drinks of the deadly concoction – and regretted it the following day. Each time.

“Your father was a mason?”

Harl was a little surprised that she asked – she didn't generally pry into that part of his life. But he was more surprised that it didn't hurt the way he would have expected it to. He didn't like to speak of his family. He didn't like to remember them. Because whenever he did, all he could remember was that dark day in Lion's Crest. They day they had all perished. The day he had lost them. But something had changed, and for the first time in five long years he found the words within him, wanting to come forth.

“Eliron of Granite, master mason. There was nothing he couldn't build out of stone. Any stone. He loved it. He loved my mother Sueris too. When he met her he promised her a house and he built it for her as a wedding present. I was the first born and when it was discovered that I had magic they were overjoyed. And they had a daughter after me, Sirena, and she had a gift of her own – a wonderful gift – a voice of pure song. She could charm the birds from the trees when she sang.”

Nyma probably thought that he was exaggerating, but he wasn't. Many times he had seen his sister sitting outside singing while the nearby sparrows and finches hopped around on the grass beside her. It was a good memory. As was the one of her naming day, something he could barely recall  since he'd been only a child at the time. But just then he remembered it once more. His parents stepping forward proudly before the priestess of Hera and their friends and naming their daughter Sirena on the day she turned one year old. That had been also been good day. It had been a long time since he'd been able to enjoy any good memories of those days.

“You'd have liked them I think. They were good people. Hard working, honest and generous with a smile.” It was true. But it was probably true of most families. True of most of those who had died in Lion's Crest. And in the rest of the five kingdoms.

“I'm sure. And I'm sure you'll like mine. As long as you don't try to kill any more of them!”

She giggled into his chest once more and he had to admit it was a little amusing. But he did have to wonder if she wasn't saying something else. Something about meeting her family. Was it time to do that? He didn't know. He didn't know that much of dryad customs. But he knew he cared for her, a lot. And maybe it was more than that. It had been so long since he had known a woman that he wasn't sure. It could all simply be him imagining that this was more than it was. He really didn't know what this was. He only knew that he liked it. And that he wanted it to continue.

“And what do they know of me?” He knew they did know of him. When Nyma had returned home she had visited with her family and he gathered he would have been discussed. Dryads were never private about such things.

“Enough. They know what they need to.”

“They're not … disappointed?” That worried him.

“Why would they be disappointed? I'm not.”

Harl was glad when he heard her say that, but still he worried. He knew he wasn't the ideal husband for a woman. He wasn't the young man he had once been. He was no longer filled with a future and a happy heart. He might never be that carefree young man again.

A sudden roar from outside stopped him from making a fool of himself by asking something foolish, and he was grateful for it.

“That thunder sounded close.”

“It's not thunder. That's the griffins. They've been staying nearby lately.” He knew their roar quite well these days. He just wasn't quite sure why they were staying so close to him. After he'd crafted the bow he'd thought they would leave. And they had for a time. But then after the fury had attacked him they'd returned. Maybe that was something he should have mentioned.

“You have griffins nearby?” Nyma stared at him intently.

“Just a few.” Then Harl thought for a bit, and wondered if he should tell her the rest. Or if he should wait until she found out for herself and got upset. “And a unicorn.”

“Griffins and a unicorn! And you were thinking of mentioning this – when?”

“It didn't seem important.” Which was actually true, though just then it felt like a lie. But it hadn't seemed that important – mainly because when she was with him nothing else seemed important. “After all they don't seem to want to do me any harm.”

Nyma made a noise then that he couldn't completely interpret. Something that he suspected was a mixture of frustration and annoyance with him. And he knew why. She probably suspected – just as he did – that it meant the Goddess had more plans for him. But it could also be that the beasts were simply responding to a place where the touch of the Goddess had been felt in the world. It could be that the smithy had been blessed. Maybe it was sacred? That was better than the alternative interpretation in his view. Which was that they were following him around because he had been touched.

“Some days I wonder about you. Did the Mother give you your magic and take away your reason? Of course they're not here to hurt you! The Goddess has sent them to watch over you. And if she thinks you're in danger than you probably are.”

“Perhaps. But you know we can discuss this later.” Harl kissed her firmly, his strength finally restored and not a moment too soon. He had a horrible feeling the conversation was going to return to his many failings to properly protect himself. And then to his need for guards.

“Later? Again?”

She knew what he meant. And what they would be doing until later arrived. And as usual she gave in to his desires because they were also her own. But this time he worried that she wouldn't be so easily persuaded to forget her concerns. Not if the griffins kept roaring.

“Definitely later.”

Chapter Forty Five

Cloverfield was the city that first told Erislee they were winning the war for Vardania.

But it wasn't the battle that told her that. The battle was much the same as all the others, save that for once it wasn't a walled city. Cloverfield was a flatland trading city. It had no walls. It had never needed such things. What it had were roads and a river, markets and docks. A thousand inns and alehouses so the tales claimed, and a thousand shops. It also had parks and gardens without number, some that between them circled the entire city. And if you wanted to spend your coin on street entertainers and ladies of the night, it had those by the thousands as well.

It was a rich city. The houses in the heart of the city were all at least two stories tall. Three and even four story houses were also not uncommon. Many had ornate columns in front of the portcullises too. And there wasn't a single one that didn't have a front courtyard decorated in mosaic tiles depicting scenes from famous battles. Or the best quality glass in their windows. Cloverfield was a city with endless coin.

Or it had been. Five long years before.

As they fought their way into the city, killing the false priests on all sides as well as their chimera, Erislee couldn't help but notice that the city was dead. There were no street entertainers and there hadn't been for a very long time. The shops were mostly empty and many of them were burnt out. The markets were gone and the dock abandoned. The parks and gardens were overrun with weeds. And the houses were run down. Many were burnt out. As for the hundred and eighty thousand people who had once called it home she would have guessed that less than half that number remained. And most of them were hiding. She caught glimpses of some of them peeking out from the windows of their houses as they pushed through the city.

The beasts of course weren't hiding, and they came at them from every direction. But they were being dealt with swiftly. It was simply a matter of numbers. A few short months before Erislee had led an army of five or six thousand soldiers. After the victory at Midland Heights that number had swelled to fifteen thousand and many more were joining. When the bards had started spreading the tale that it had all been some brilliant strategy and that she now carried the longbow of the Goddess herself, people had started joining up as fast as they could. Midland Heights had been a turning point in the war.

The unexpected thing was that many of those who were joining them were priests and wizards, wild men and half bloods. Outcasts of every stripe. More of them were joining than ever before as they heard of the victory. And they were coming from all directions. Now they had hundreds of wizards, more than she would ever have imagined could have survived. Apparently they were very good at hiding. So too were the priests, and now they formed a flock around her wherever she went, all of them wanting to see the bow.

And as for the others, the trappers and hunters and those of mixed blood; they had formed a whole regiment of their own – the First Axes. The soldiers called them the wild men, and it had to be said with good reason. They weren't all axemen of course, though it was a very common weapon among them. But they were all wild men of one sort or another. And while they refused to be trained as soldiers and wouldn't fight as them, they seemed to have their own deadly arts. They didn't form up in lines or use the soldier's traditional weapons of spears or sword and shield. Instead they tended to simply mob the enemy, almost like wild animals. But many times she'd seen an axe square off against a beast and then watched as the beast ended up in pieces. Too many times to doubt their skill. The years of running and fighting to survive had made them powerful warriors if not soldiers. And many of them she suspected were followers of Lyssa. They had the Goddess' dark fury in them as they fought.

As for the actual trained soldiers, they seemed to know exactly what they were doing. All the training and the drills had been worth it. So as they advanced down the streets the soldiers seemed to have a tactic for every beast they faced. Harpies were being decimated by archers who stood tall behind shields carried by their sword wielding comrades in arms. Cerberi were overcome by soldiers holding their shields low and chopping them up with their swords every time they charged. Minotaurs and leonids were falling victims to pikes that poked out from between the shield walls. The beasts were dangerous – especially when they charged. But their power was being used against them. Every time they charged the lines, shield men would form into a line while soldiers behind them with fifteen foot long pikes that they anchored into the ground were ready for them. The chimera ended up impaled on them. Soon after that they were cut up into little pieces as the soldiers advanced.

The amazing thing to Erislee's untrained eye was how quickly the soldiers could reform into whatever formation they needed the moment each threat appeared. They just seemed to move without needing to be told, or even to talk. But then every one of them had been through it a hundred times or more by then. They understood the dance of battle. And the beasts didn't learn.

Between that and their numbers the rebels quickly began taking the city. Marching up the main streets, clearing out the side ones, and leaving bodies in their wake. Lots of bodies. Most of them were chimera. Many were the false priests of the false temple. But none of them were wizards. Or Circle wizards. Or even temple guards.

That surprised her as the advance continued. Their scouts and spies had reported that one of the Circle called this city home, namely Nardi of Four Lions. He was said to be a powerful beast master. So she'd been expecting to see large numbers of bears and wolves and big cats in the streets. But there'd been nothing. There had been no fire balls either. No lightning strikes and no storms. No magic of any type had been used against them.

For the first few hours the battle that had seemed like nothing more than a welcome change from the rest of the war. It was a pity because they had the cage with its collar ready to send Nardi away the moment they found him and it seemed a shame to have hauled it all the way for nothing. But then when they'd reached the first false temple and the priests had come flying out, none of them armed with any type of magic, it had occurred to her that it was more than that. While she had expected that Nardi would probably be in the main temple, she had still expected there to be other wizards there. The complete lack of them seemed wrong.

After the temple had burned and the priests had died she'd checked the bodies. Every one of the fallen priests had had the markings of one demon or another on their wrists. That at least was as expected. But it was the only thing that was. For a while she'd begun to wonder if the false priests weren't even demon thralls at all? If someone had simply stuffed a whole bunch of soldiers in the garb of the priests? They fought like soldiers, and not one of them had magic.

But in time it occurred to her that there were also less of the false priests than there should be. Maybe half as many.

For the next few hours of the advance that had bothered her. Especially when the next temple had proven exactly the same. The priests came rushing out of the burning temple to fight with their twisted creatures, but none of them had magic.

And then there was the other question. Where were the soldiers? The mercenaries donned in the garb of temple priests. They too were missing. Initially she'd worried that it might be a new tactic and they might be formed up somewhere else in the city, waiting to attack them from the side or their rear. It could all be some strange strategy. But the scouts had found nothing of them as they'd explored the city.

Then, as they'd moved on through the centre of the city the truth had come to her. There weren't any wizards or soldiers in the city. It seemed like madness. It made no sense to her. But by the time the third and final temple had burnt to the ground and the same pattern had been repeated she knew it for the truth.  And she knew that it wasn't that the wizards weren't there because they'd fled when they'd seen the army approaching. The scouts would have reported that. They'd abandoned the city long before the attack had even begun. They'd simply left the others to die. And by the looks of things they'd taken most of the soldiers with them.

This didn't feel like panic. It was too orderly and too complete for that. There were no stragglers, no things left behind. They'd retreated. And she guessed that she knew where to. Back to the Kingdom of the Lion. Back to Lion's Crest. It was there that everything had begun. It was there that the gate through which the chimera came was located. And it was there that she assumed that the final battle would be fought.

But it seemed too soon. While she'd always expected them to do this eventually, she had been thinking in terms of years. Currently they were only half way through freeing Vardania, the first of the four cities. It was also only the second realm in their campaign to free the five kingdoms. There were still the Enteria Regency and Northland to free before they moved into the Kingdom of the Lion. But at the same time she realised, six of the twelve Circle wizards were dead. The other six were probably running scared. There had already been reports that some of the Circle wizards had been spotted leaving the realms after Midland Heights. Heading for the safety of Lion's Crest. Now it seemed they were taking the rest of their wizards with them.

What did that mean for the deal? For the binding? If the wizards were retreating to safety and taking most of the soldiers with them while leaving the beasts and the other thralls to die, did that mean the deal was broken? Because one thing was certain; the demon king couldn't be too happy about this. If his armies were being slaughtered instead of killing people then he wasn't getting fed.

But that was their problem. Both the wizards' and demon king's. For her and her people it wasn't a problem at all. It was an opportunity. A gift. At least she hoped it was. If the wizards were retreating from Cloverfield – and she assumed from the rest of Vardania – were they also retreating from the other realms? From Northland and the Enteria Regency? If they were that would weaken those realms. And that would mean that Pariton to the north of Northland and Inel Ison to the east of the Regency might both have the opportunity to advance into those lands. Instead of holding their borders they could attack the false temple from three fronts at once.

But it could also be a trap. She could be falling into the enemy's hands again. If there was one thing she didn't want to do, it was that.

By the end of the day when the city was theirs and the sky was black with smoke she knew that messages had to be sent and decisions had to be made. But not by her. For once this didn't fall on her shoulders.

That was why she had war masters with her. And after Midland Heights she had decided to rely far more on them.

“Dina.” She turned to her ever present shadow, both hopeful and worried at the same time. “Call the war masters together. We may have just been gifted a war.”