Blood of Innocents (Book Two of the Sorcery Ascendant Sequence) (58 page)

If Caldan protested too much, Amerdan would become suspicious. Eventually, he nodded in assent.

Amerdan looked around at the wealth on display and shrugged. “I’ll take some ducats. There are… others I need to take care of. But I’ll find you again, soon. It would be… unfortunate if we didn’t meet again. I sense a great talent in you.”

With those final words, Amerdan left him standing there among the ducats, gems,
crafting
s and
trinket
s.

“Wait—” he shouted, but the shopkeeper ignored him and headed toward the entry doorway. Caldan hurried to catch up.

Outside was a courtyard with iron gates leading onto a street. Between the bars of the gates, people milled around, and one man pointed at Caldan when he emerged. The commotion of their fight must have startled many of the neighbors out of sleep and into the streets to see what the disturbance was.

Amerdan unlatched the gate and pushed his way past them, not responding to any of their questions, and disappeared into the night.

“I’m going to have to stop thinking of him as a shopkeeper,” muttered Caldan. He couldn’t chase after Amerdan and leave the place open and unattended. By the time he alerted the Protectors, it was likely everything would be looted.

“You,” he said, pointing to a teenage boy. Of all the people crowding around, he looked like he’d be the fastest. Caldan handed him a gold ducat, and the boy’s eyes widened with shock.

“Run as fast as you can to the Protectors,” commanded Caldan. “Ask for Master Mold. Have them wake him up, if necessary. Tell him Caldan needs him and at least four journeymen, and bring them back here. Tell Master Mold it’s about Annelie and… the sword. Can you remember that?”

Eyes still on the ducat, the boy nodded. Caldan had him repeat back what he’d said, then, satisfied the boy remembered, sent him on his way.

He turned to the crowd, which had almost doubled in the short space of time he’d been instructing the boy on his message.

“Listen up!” he shouted. “No one is to enter this yard or the building. The Protectors will be here soon, and anyone caught disobeying these orders will be punished.”

“Was it the invaders?” shouted a woman from the back of the crowd.

Murmurings rose in response to her question.

“It had to be!” yelled someone.

“They’re here!”

“Who are you, anyway? Maybe you’re one of them!”

Loud murmurs of agreement followed the last statement, and the crowd took a few steps toward him.

A multicolored haze surrounded Caldan as he accessed his well and linked to Bells’ shield
crafting.
Gasps arose from the crowd, and they backed away, faces filled with fear.

Chapter Thirty-Four

A gently arcing curve of smooth black stone, the bridge stretched over the river. Wide enough for two wagons to pass without touching, it was anchored on each bank to immense blocks of the same stone which penetrated deep into the ground. Aidan had seen a few such bridges, surviving from before the Shattering, but never one so impressive. Like almost every other major city, Riversedge was built atop the ruins of a city from the Shattering. Much of the stone that made up its foundations dated back thousands of years. Deep carved runes covered two pillars at each end of the bridge. Legend had it that only humans and animals could cross, that it was barred to any non-human races from the Shattering, like the jukari and vormag.

Beyond the bridge, a hazy brown pall covered part of the horizon. Riversedge.

Aidan wiped his fevered brow and coughed. It looked like they’d finally find out if the legends were true. From a village on the other side of the bridge, smoke trailed lazily into the still afternoon air. He shaded his eyes from the sun and could make out people talking in the streets, children playing and laughing.

They’d left the shelter of the forest hours ago, making their way across grasslands, which had turned to fields. Farmsteads now dotted the horizon to both sides, but they feared to stop and warn their occupants. Any delay could mean catastrophe for Riversedge.

They’d be able to alert the village ahead of them, and with any luck the villagers would see sense and wouldn’t be reluctant to leave their homes. If they delayed and tried to take all their belongings with them, it could mean their death. But persuading the villagers a horde of creatures created before the Shattering was fast approaching would be a hard task.

“Let’s go,” Aidan said, and they pushed their exhausted horses toward the bridge.

On the other side, a few curious inhabitants stared at their filthy, bedraggled appearance, while others turned their gaze away, as if trying to avoid being noticed.

Aidan accosted one of the men staring at him, a scraggly-bearded old timer with a broken-veined nose and cheeks.

“Who’s in charge of the village?” he asked. “Is there a mayor or a circle of elders?”

“Mayor,” the man replied, scratching at his beard. “Runs the inn, he does.”

Aidan looked around until he spotted the town’s only inn, a freshly painted three-story building just down the main road.

“You’d better get out of here,” he told the broken-veined man. “There’s a horde of jukari coming, and they don’t take prisoners. Tell everyone. Round up the children, and head to Riversedge as fast as you can.”

The man spat into the dirt. “You don’t scare me. I don’t know your game, but it ain’t working. Get out of here.”

Aidan scowled. He knew most of the villagers would react the same. But they had to convince them. And that meant convincing the mayor, who the villagers would listen to.

Let’s hope he has a level head.

He pushed the thought they’d led the jukari straight to the village to one side.

Aidan motioned for Chalayan, cel Rau, and Vasile to follow, and they entered the inn.

It was well maintained, with sturdy benches and tables, presumably to prevent them tipping over or being used as weapons when things got rowdy. Only a few customers were present, and Aidan scanned them out of habit for signs of trouble. There was a pair of what looked like caravan guards carrying a sprinkling of weapons along with their swords, an old man so far into his cups he was talking to himself, and a middle-aged woman in heavy makeup who lounged in one dark corner. Behind the bar, a serious-looking man in his thirties looked up as they entered, then began to pour four mugs of ale.

“On the house,” he said as they approached.

Aidan shook his head. “We don’t have time to drink. Where’s the mayor?”

“You’re talking to him. And what’s the hurry?”

Aidan looked him up and down. “You’re younger than I expected.”

“Old doesn’t necessarily mean wise.”

“True.”

The man held out his hand. “I’m Reidun, mayor of Sour. And before you ask, somebody probably thought it was funny at the time.”

Aidan clasped the proffered hand. “Fair enough. I’ll get to the point. There’s a horde of jukari heading in this direction. If you don’t evacuate the village, everyone will die.”

Reidun blinked. “You’re joking. Aren’t you?”

“No. Our injuries came from fighting our way clear of them. They’re aimed at Riversedge, so once you get there, you’ll have to warn the Quivers and Protectors.”

A hazy blue shield surrounded Chalayan, and Reidun gasped.

“We only just survived,” Aidan said. “And as you can see, we’re much harder to kill than the average person.”

“By the ancestors,” breathed Reidun. “You’re serious.”

“Deadly. We’ll help round everyone up. There will be homes and farms around here, but we won’t be able to warn everyone. Time is wasting. Grab what you can, but make it quick.”

Reidun swallowed. “There’s a hostler’s just outside town. Traders and merchants like to stop here. Tell them Reidun sent you. The owner is smart and dependable. We’ll need their horses and wagons for the villagers. I’ll go out and round up a few steady people to spread the word. There’ll be those that won’t believe even me. They’ll want to stay.”

Aidan nodded. “Do what you can. Whoever stays behind… grieve for them later, once everyone’s safe.”

Reidun hurried outside, leaving them alone with the inn’s customers.

“Listen up!” shouted Aidan, and heads turned toward him. “This place will be overrun by a jukari horde. If you stay, you’ll die. Get your things and help the other villagers.”

“Piss off,” muttered the old man.

Aidan strode over and knocked the cup of wine from his hands, then grabbed him by the shirt and hauled him across the room and out the front door. As the old man lay sputtering in the dust of the street, Aidan went back inside. The two guards were on their feet, while the woman was having a laughing fit.

“I don’t have time for this, and neither do you. Get out, or die.”

A short time later, the village was in an uproar, but it wasn’t the chaos of frantically packing belongings and leaving as fast as possible. Most of the people they warned sneered at their claims, with some openly hostile. Cel Rau had to draw on a few young men who wanted to beat them, fearing they were hustlers of some kind, and they only backed away when he bloodied one across the arm.

Reidun was doing his best, atop a wagon in the middle of the street, shouting over the confused clamor, but he was quickly going hoarse. The only good thing about the commotion was that it was drawing villagers from all corners of the town. Mothers with fearful expressions held children close. Somewhere in the crowd, a child began to cry, spurring a few more to join in. All the men carried makeshift weapons, such as pitchforks, long knives, and even the occasional rusty sword dragged from the bottom of a wardrobe. Though they tried to hide it, they looked almost as fearful as the children.

“This isn’t going to be easy,” said Chalayan.

Someone clutched Aidan’s arm from behind. He turned to find a woman trying to shove a blanket-wrapped baby into his arms.

“Take her! You must save her!” the woman screamed hysterically.

“By the ancestors!” cursed Aidan. “I can’t, woman!” He raised his hands above his head.

She thrust the baby into his chest. “Her name’s Izobelle. Please. Take her with you to Riversedge.”

“Can’t we help her?” pleaded Vasile.

Aidan shook his head. “I’m sorry. We can’t. We’re staying to make sure everyone leaves.”

The woman started to weep and hugged Izobelle to her bosom.

An old man with a rusty sword came over and consoled her. “It’s all right, Haylie. Leave these men be. Come with me; there’s room in my wagon.” He placed an arm around Haylie’s shoulders and they wandered off.

Aidan mounted his horse. “Come on. We need to round up the stragglers and get them here. As many as you can.”

Cel Rau, Chalayan, and Vasile trotted off in different directions.

From his higher vantage, Aidan looked behind him, squinting, searching for signs the jukari were still following; hoping, without really hoping, that he’d find nothing.

A speck of movement caught his eye: a figure, tiny at this distance. Then another. Then more, accumulating, until the green fields turned black. They were moving fast. Far swifter than they had any right to. A cloud of dust rose into the air behind them. He cursed. Vormag sorcery, it had to be. At this rate, the entire village would be slaughtered. They needed more time to get away.

“Cel Rau! Chalayan!” roared Aidan.

Ahead of him, they pulled their mounts to a stop and looked back. Chalayan cursed in his own tongue, and cel Rau spat into the dirt. Vasile stared open-mouthed at the impossible-seeming numbers.

People followed Aidan’s gaze and saw the jukari horde for the first time. Screams sounded around them, and the crowd erupted into milling confusion. A baby’s wail rose over the din. A young woman fell and was ignored, others trampling her in their haste to get away.

Aidan moved his mount closer to Chalayan and cel Rau as Vasile trotted up. “Hurry! Round up as many people as you can. Leave the rest. Tell them to forget about carrying much. If they try to take all their belongings, they’ll be too slow. Find me again, then start for Riversedge. If any complain, point out the approaching jukari horde to them. Go now!”

All three raced away, dust trailing behind them.

•

By the time he reached the high point of the bridge, midway between the pillars, the village was in total chaos. Aidan saw people already leaving, some on horses, and some walking. Wagons were being loaded and teams hitched. Good. A few lone horsemen were racing toward Riversedge, looking after their own skins.

Aidan stopped and dismounted, looping his reins over the saddle horn. With a hard smack on the beast’s rump, he sent it toward the village. Someone could use it.

He’d led the jukari to the village, and he’d be damned if he’d let them just roll over it, snatching up those too weak or too slow to escape their clutches. Chalayan knew what to do, and so did cel Rau. But would cel Rau hold his loathing of destructive sorcery in check and allow Chalayan full rein? They had a certain license from the emperor, but each of them had their own reasons for joining Caitlyn, and he knew from what she’d told him cel Rau’s was the darkest.

The jukari were no doubt trampling the lush grass with their misbegotten feet and defiling it with their waste. By the ancestors, there were so many…

As the horde approached, he pushed all other thoughts to the side. There wasn’t time to wonder about such things. In fact, there wasn’t much time left at all. Aidan cast a look over his shoulder. Chalayan and cel Rau were cantering toward him. Their horses wouldn’t stand for being pushed much more, but Riversedge was close, and all they had to do was delay the jukari on the bridge to allow the villagers to escape. Easy.

Sun burned the back of his neck as he waited for them.

Chalayan and cel Rau dismounted before him.

Chalayan produced a number of his hastily crafted stones and moved to the side of the bridge, where he began placing them along the edge.

“Those are shield craftings,” the sorcerer said. “It won’t be like the fight the other day, as I’ll be too far away to see what’s happening. I… don’t know how we’re going to coordinate this.”