Breath of Dragons (A Pandoran Novel) (51 page)

I was quickly ushered through a pair of tall, bronze doors, with Vera right behind me, into a great hall carved directly into the side of the mountain. The hall itself easily competed with the size of the hall in Valdon, with great support beams spanning the vaulted ceiling above and walls stamped by colorful stained-glass windows. Since this hall had been carved from rock, there was no sun to send natural light through the stained glass. Instead, the meticulous craftsmanship was illuminated with burning sconces.

Gold and crimson banners fell from the support beams above, helping to draw the vaulted spaces nearer, and a broad, crimson rug stretched over the smooth stone floor like an artery. At the end of the hall was a set of broad stairs leading to a small platform that boasted a single, high-backed chair made of gray steel, which was currently occupied by a man.

He looked to be somewhere around middle age, with salt and pepper hair that was mostly salted. The great chair dwarfed his stocky and muscular frame, and his studded leather armor looked as though it had been mended many times over the years. Dark eyes brooded beneath a strong brow that ran flat as a horizon, and he had a broad face with sharp, authoritative features. It was the kind of face that had no need for being friendly; it was the kind of face that didn't care for friends. This man was used to making decisions, and he would not have his time wasted with ideals. He stood tall as we approached, thick and muscular arms falling confidently at his sides.

"Who do we have here?" Sir Torren asked once we reached the foot of the steps to his platform. His voice was rough and commanding, and it filled every inch of the hall.

"Princess Daria Regius of Valdon, my lord," said the lead guard. "And her Aegis…" He stalled, realizing he hadn't caught her name.

"Aegis Veranna Neci," Vera answered for him, her tone clipped.

Sir Torren appraised the both of us with renewed interest. "And to what do I owe the honor, your highness?"

By his expression, I could tell he was not honored in the slightest. "Sir Torren. There is an army of kytharii that are about to attack your city." I hoped he remembered what kytharii were, but if not, I expected him to be the sort of man to ask.

One of Sir Torren's horizontal brows slanted upward. "Why?"

Good, he did know what kytharii were. "Because Lord Eris has used dark magic to wake them so that he can take your land."

Sir Torren regarded me a long moment, like he was trying to gauge what kind of creature I was. At last, he said, "Lord Eris? Here? But he is dead. He died twenty years ago, ending the Dark Reign."

Pendel, apparently, had yet to receive word about my uncle's return. "He is not dead, Sir Torren. He is back. I have seen him with my own eyes. He is the one who murdered my father."

Sir Torren's lips formed a tight line. "Prince Alaric…dead?"

My words had surprised him. Did Pendel know anything about the affairs of mainland? I breathed in slowly, gathering myself. It was difficult holding back my emotion and treating life and death as matters of fact. "Yes."

Sir Torren sat back in his chair, leaning to his side and propping his square chin upon a fist. "I find it interesting that two very famous individuals have so suddenly found themselves concerned with Pendel. Tell me, your highness, why have
you
come to this land?"

I would've liked to have kept this to myself, but I wouldn't get anywhere with Sir Torren without complete honesty. And besides, I already had the reputations of my grandfather and uncle going against me. "I came to your lands in search of a box belonging to the Pandors."

The shadows in Sir Torren's face darkened. "Your grandfather came to these lands forty years ago searching for the same thing. He almost destroyed this city looking for that Pandor child. And let us not forget your uncle, Lord Eris, who, twenty years later, surrounded this city with his blasphemous shadowguard in an attempt to take it over, and now you're telling me he's trying to do it again."

I fought to hold my calm. "Sir Torren, I am not my grandfather. Or my uncle."

He folded thick arms over his chest, and his leathers creaked. "Let me make something clear to you,
your highness
." Apparently, Vera wasn't the only person possessing the talent to turn titles into insults. "We remember very clearly the power held by your Pandor ancestors when they ruled this land, and we are not eager for their resurgence. And with the actions of your grandfather and later your uncle—naturally I'm wary of your intentions here. Furthermore, it seems this dark magic has been incited by your presence. Is it a ploy, your highness? Have you brought us this threat yourself so that you may carry forth the duplicitous torch carried by your apostate family?"

"Of course not! I'm here because I’m trying to warn you of a threat—"

"A threat you've instigated," he cut me off sharply. "I have been entrusted with the protection of Pendel and its people, and if Lord Eris has raised an army of the dead against you, then please get out of my city. We will not involve ourselves with
your
war. We will not fall to the whims of the Regius or Pandor lines ever again."

"Remember to whom you are speaking, Sir Torren," Vera growled, taking a step forward. The guards pointed swords at her, threatening her to stay put, but her eyes were only for Sir Torren. "This is King Darius's granddaughter, Princess of Gaia and second heir to the throne, and it is because of King Darius's allowance that you sit in that seat you now occupy. A whim of the king that has worked in your favor."

Sir Torren bristled, shifting in his chair and leaning to his other side. He dropped his arm, letting his hand dangle over his knee, his jaw clenched.

I stepped around the guard in front of me, so that my view of Sir Torren was completely unobstructed. "Sir Torren, please. I have no ulterior motives here, and whether you choose to believe me or not, every single person in this land that has ever been buried is turning into kytharii. The kytharii are not mortal; blades will not kill them. I can leave this city as you've asked, but the kytharii will still come. They will come in hordes of tens of thousands, and your people will die. They will not stand a chance. You must put aside your bias and act, Sir Torren, and if you stand by and do nothing, you will not have a city to defend."

The hall was thick with silence and apprehension. Sir Torren stared at me as if he might stare the truth out, but I did not shrink back.

"Sir Torren!" The doors to the great hall opened, letting pale daylight bleed inside. The sky beyond was already much darker than when I'd entered the hall.

A guard jogged toward us, leathers creaking and boots pounding as he ran. Sir Torren sat taller, and when the guard reached the base of the stairs, he dropped to one knee and bowed.

"I've come to report movement in the Vale." The guard sounded a little frightened.

Sir Torren's eyes slid to me and settled there, wanting to watch my reaction with this news. "What kind of movement, Jarl?"

"We…we don't know, Sir," the guard named Jarl replied. "One of our messengers swears he just saw dead bodies walking out of Catha's Tomb over in Highwater."

Sir Torren and I had a silent stand off. He didn't want to believe, but as a leader he had to deal with the truth. We always had to deal with the truth, even when the truth said things we didn't want to hear.

"Shall I dispatch a unit?" asked a concerned Jarl.

Sir Torren looked past me and watched the door as if haunted by sudden memories. "No. You will dispatch eight units and assimilate a handful of city mages. Send them to the clans along the shores and have them stay there to protect the people. And then I want you to send ravens to every single clan in this land, telling those near to hurry to the city at once in order to find protection behind our walls."

Now, Jarl looked frightened. "Protection from what, Sir Torren?"

Sir Torren's gaze leveled on mine, and in that moment, he aged thirty years. "From Lord Eris and his army of the dead."

Chapter 25

Preparations

K
arth's population tripled overnight.

All of the buildings had emptied onto the streets. People were everywhere, preparing for a siege, stockpiling foods and supplies. I wasn't sure what good this would do. I knew this would not be a typical siege, where your enemy waited outside the walls until you starved to death or screamed insults at you until you lost hope and handed yourself over. No, this enemy would attack relentlessly until it had killed, and eaten, each and every one of us. But I kept these thoughts to myself. Obviously, Sir Torren hadn't opted for sharing such grim news with everyone, and I didn't think I should evaporate what little morale the people had by sharing it myself. Not that the people would listen to me.

The great hall was deemed a safe haven for the women and children, being at such a high elevation and farthest from the walls. Children cried and whined, sensing something amiss as their mothers tried to comfort them. Metal clanked, echoing loudly throughout the city as the blacksmiths worked, honing swords and improving armor for the men. Sir Torren was everywhere, checking on the progress of all. He sent men to walk the perimeter and survey the wall, checking for weaknesses and refortifying them if found. Onagers were drawn out and put together along the ramparts. There was a general murmur of excitement. It wasn't a jovial excitement, however. It was a nervous excitement similar to the kind that came before giving a huge performance. And this performance was a matter of life and death.

Ravens had promptly been sent to the clans, urging them to make haste to the city. Those near the edges of the great island would stay put, readying themselves for battle with the added protection of some of Sir Torren's guards and city mages. I silently prayed the kytharii would strike the city and leave the clans alone. They wouldn't stand a chance without the aid of a physical blockage such as a great wall.

Alex, Sonya, Vera, Thad, and I helped where we could. Initially, the people were reluctant to let us help, but an overwhelming need prevailed, and we eventually split up where aid was needed. Sonya left to help the women and children settle inside the great hall, and Vera stayed with the blacksmiths to help mend and ready armor and weaponry. To her utter irritation, Thad decided to stay with her and help, but she couldn't send him away. There was too much work to be done to turn away the extra help.

Sir Torren continued moving everywhere, overseeing all preparations and ensuring they were progressing in a timely fashion. During the night hours, we slept when and where we could, though it was a restless sleep. Alex stayed with me as we walked the city's perimeter, per Sir Torren's request, checking to make sure Sir Torren's men had caught all weaknesses. By morning, the guards had all the onagers stationed along the ramparts and towers and had turned their attention to collecting stacks of large rocks they intended to launch. I knew the rocks wouldn't do anything, so I spoke with Sir Torren and asked if I could tell the men about the fire. He thought this was a good idea, and instructed his men that I would be helping him check on the progress of our fortifications, and that if I had anything to add, they had better listen. This was met with much arguing and grumbling, but Sir Torren's glare and sharp words eventually silenced them. Having Alex by my side helped, too, because they all seemed to know who he was, and none of them wanted on his bad side.

I approached one of the guards on the battlements, who was making some adjustments to an onager, and said, "Throwing rocks won't do anything because our enemy is already dead. You'll need fire, and lots of it."

He frowned at me and looked like he was about to say something rude, but the look on Alex's face halted him. Regardless of the guard's thoughts on me and my place here, he listened and spread the word to his fellow soldiers. Alex and I left the ramparts and asked Sir Torren where we could find pitch, and then promptly delivered it to the various stations. It felt good to work, even if the guards despised my presence here. It helped take the tension off the upcoming threat.

After Alex and I had finished our perimeter check, we found Sir Torren yelling at one of his men for doing shoddy work on a grindstone.

"This isn't a game!" Sir Torren chucked the dull sword at the man. The man ducked as the sword flew over his head and clattered against the wall behind him. "I couldn't even slice butter with that!"

"Sir Torren?" I asked.

The man was still cowering against the wall as if Sir Torren's gaze were slowly collapsing him into fetal position.

Sir Torren's eyes snapped over to me, and I stepped back a little. In my periphery, I noticed the man hurry back to work on the grindstone.

"Aegis Del Conte and I have finished checking the wall for weaknesses, and everything seems to be progressing well."

Sir Torren nodded sharply, fixing one last glare on the man at the grindstone. "Good. I'm glad to hear some are following my orders."

"If I may…" Alex said, looking to me for permission to speak. Of course, I nodded for him to continue, and Sir Torren looked at him. "I wondered if there were any other ways in and out of the city. Sewers, tunnels—anything at all."

Sir Torren rubbed his chin, his brow knit together in thought. "Sewers, yes, but their entry is blocked by a grate and well concealed. If need be, I'll have some added concealment charms placed on them."

Alex nodded. "That might be a good idea. Is there anything else?"

Sir Torren scratched his head as he thought. "No, that's all I can…wait. There is something."

Alex and I exchanged a glance.

"But it's nothing to worry about," Sir Torren continued. "There's a sort of underground tunnel that stretches out from the face of the wall in a circuitous ring. It was an expansion project centuries ago, but when that steward died it was abandoned and covered up. We needn't concern ourselves with it, though. The only entry and exit are from inside the city."

Alex mulled over his words and at last nodded sharply. And then Sir Torren became distracted with something else that was not progressing to his satisfaction and stormed off yelling. Alex and I looked back at each other and then headed back to the battlements. The sky grew darker still, and the gales gusted more strongly than before. It was as if Gaia herself knew the disease plaguing her lands and nature was responding to her mood.