Part 13 (1/2)
”That's how they're getting so many soldiers!” said Balandrick.
”Yes,” said Zaephos. ”A brief march takes them from the far side of the sea to this continent.”
”Are you here to help us fight the Adversary?” asked Gerin.
”Not directly. There are laws that govern what I may and may not do. But I will give you what guidance and counsel I may.”
Later, alone in his tent, Gerin thought about what Zaephos had said. The news that Gerin's creation of Nimnahal was partly responsible for the Adversary gaining power faster than he would have otherwise was devastating. What have I done? he wondered, unable to sleep. Every choice I make, no matter how well-intentioned, goes awry. The guilt and self-doubt that had gripped him after his failure with the Baryas.h.i.+n spell and Reshel's death returned with renewed fury. He felt paralyzed, unsure of every decision. Was this journey to the Watchtowers also destined to end in disaster? Was he sending them all headlong to their doom?
Once more he missed Reshel keenly, with a palpable, physical ache. She would know what to say to help him recover his courage, his determination, his certainty in the rightness of his choices. Something that now, in the dead silence of night, he could not find for himself.
Elaysen was stunned upon meeting Zaephos the next morning. When she was told who and what he was, she began interrogating him with the ferocity of a high inquisitor, asking him questions about the One G.o.d, the strictures of dalar-aelom, the role of emissaries, the heresies of Aidrel, and more.
Zaephos listened to her questions with a decided lack of urgency or interest.
Gerin watched as Elaysen grew agitated with the lack of answers from the One G.o.d's messenger. He either ignored her questions outright or offered unhelpful comments, such as, ”It is not for me to reveal such knowledge.”
At one point, after receiving that answer for the fourth or fifth time, she threw up her hands and groaned in frustration. ”Then why are you here?”
”As I told the others last night, I have come to experience this existence as mortals do.”
”But why won't you answer my questions?”
”Because they are questions you need to answer for yourself.”
She faced him squarely. ”Will you answer this for me? You said to King Gerin once that even a prophet may not fully understand what he is shown. What is it my father does not understand? What has he done wrong?”
”That is something I cannot answer. That message was for Gerin.”
”Cannot or will not?”
”That is all I will say.”
They kept their course close to the southern border of Threndellen. The lands were less populated, and should they find themselves confronting overwhelming military odds, they could flee back into Khedesh relatively quickly. It was Balandrick's intent to continue on this path until they reached the Redhorn Hills before angling their path more to the northwest, toward the Ozul Mountains and the Hollow, where the Watchtowers stood in their millennial silence.
”We've been lucky,” Balandrick said to Gerin one night. ”I must say I'm surprised we've come so far without running into anyone.”
”It's a big country,” said Abaru. ”Even with all of these soldiers, we're still just a speck in the wilderness.”
”Don't forget that the Havalqa are farther to the east,” said Hollin. ”Their presence may have drawn off some of the fighting men from all across the country. Most of the castles and fortresses we've seen looked relatively empty.”
The company was riding across an open field hemmed to the south with a low line of tree-capped hills, when arrows began to rain down upon them. One Taeraten caught a shaft in his neck, just above his mail s.h.i.+rt, and tumbled from his horse.
Instantly the other soldiers angled their s.h.i.+elds and formed a protective cordon around Gerin. Arrows clanged against steel and caromed off armor. Gerin and the wizards formed Wardings to protect the company, overlapping their spells to achieve a wide area of coverage.
The attackers were among the trees atop the line of hills. Balandrick shouted orders for the Taeratens to charge up the slopes and kill whomever they found. Elaysen hurried to the wounded soldier and implored him to be still so she could tend to him.
A third of the men broke away and galloped toward the hills, hunched low behind s.h.i.+elds and their horses' armored necks and heads. The wizards raised their Wardings to allow them to pa.s.s.
Gerin saw movement in the trees. He created a Fa.r.s.eeing but could not discern much. He could not make out if the men who'd attacked them were regular soldiers or a band of locals who'd foolishly decided to attempt to drive off a company of well-armed and well-trained men riding through their lands.
”Your Majesty, I think we should retreat to a more secure location,” said Balandrick. ”We're in the open here, exposed on all sides.”
The Taeratens disappeared into the trees. ”Not just yet, Balan. We've erected some protections of our own, though you can't see them. We're quite safe.”
Balandrick looked displeased, but resigned himself to Gerin's wishes. ”As you say, Your Majesty.”
The distance and the trees m.u.f.fled any sounds of battle. Gerin strained his hearing, but even his sensitive ears could not make out anything.
A single rider emerged from the trees a short while later. He kept his horse to a quick trot as he crossed the field.
”Your Majesty, Captain Balandrick, the enemy has been routed,” the man announced after a quick salute. ”They look to be a band of outlaws. Poorly trained, though a few fought well. We killed most of them, but a handful managed to reach their horses and made off. Commander Gertheles decided not to give pursuit. If you decide otherwise, Your Majesty, I'll relay the message to him and we'll give chase.”
”No. There's no need for us to spend time hunting down outlaws in Threndellen.”
Zaephos had watched the exchange with a stoic expression. It seemed to annoy Balandrick.
”If we'd been attacked by trained soldiers, would you have helped us?” he asked the messenger of the One G.o.d.
”No.” Zaephos did not bother to look at Balandrick when he replied, but it did not seem to Gerin to be a slight or a sign of contempt. Zaephos was watching four deer running in the distance and did not want to s.h.i.+ft his attention away from them.
Balandrick looked shocked by the answer. ”No? You would do nothing?”
His eyes still on the deer, Zaephos said, ”There is nothing I could do.”
”Doesn't a G.o.d's messenger have magic or power of some kind?”
”I do not use magic. That is a mortal power, consigned to this realm and those who dwell within it. My power springs from beyond, in the realm of the divine.” The deer had vanished from sight, and finally Zaephos turned to faced Balandrick. ”Divine power is not for use in the mortal world. When I a.s.sumed this mortal form, I severed myself from much of my divine nature. This body could not endure the might of my native power. Even if I were to destroy this form and grasp my divine energy, you would be destroyed along with your enemies. It is too potent. As I told you, there are laws that bind even such as me. Laws the Adversary seeks to overthrow.”
”Do you enjoy this mortal form?” asked Abaru.
”I am intrigued by this experience,” he replied. ”It was difficult and costly for me to a.s.sume it, and if this body were destroyed, it would be a long time before I could enter the mortal realm again.”
The Taeratens appeared atop the hills. It did not look as if they had lost a single soldier.
Gerin saw that they'd taken a captive. A lone figure, hands bound together at the wrists, which were in turn connected to one of the Taeraten saddles with a length of rope, ran along behind them, barely managing to keep from falling and being dragged.
G.o.ds above, it's a woman! Gerin realized when they got a little closer.
Commander Gertheles saluted Gerin and bowed his head. ”Your Majesty, my men dispatched the enemy. All are dead but seven or eight who fled on horseback.”
”Who is your prisoner?”
Gertheles grinned. ”Ah, Your Majesty, she's a feisty one. Handy with knives. Almost took poor Karhl's head off throwing one from thirty feet away. If he'd got his s.h.i.+eld up a second slower...” He drew his finger across his throat. ”Mengol managed to swing around behind her and kick her in the back to knock her down, then jumped off his horse and pinned her. I guess I should say tried to pin her, since she flipped him on his back and broke his nose with her elbow before he knew what hit him.” The commander barked a laugh.
”Wasn't funny, sir,” said Mengol, whose mashed nose was still leaking blood. ”I was trying not to hurt her. She just got away from me, is all. Slippery, like she was greased up.”