Crown of Crystal Flame (45 page)

And then the Fey army began its march towards Orest and war.

Celieria ~ One hundred miles south of Orest
10
^th
day of Seledos

At midday, as the Fey army halted to rest and eat, Rain and the commanders of allied forces gathered in a magic-warded tent several miles east of the main militia. Fearful of the Mage using her eyes to spy upon the allies, Ellysetta remained behind with the other
shei’dalins.

When Rain introduced Farel and his men to the other commanders, the air in the tent became decidedly chilly. The cool reception was not unexpected. Deeply ingrained Fey beliefs would not change in the blink of an eye, and thanks to the Mages’ relentless subversions and the
dahl’reisen’s
own murderous actions along the borders, the Celierians were no more eager to welcome
dahl’reisen
among their ranks than their immortal neighbors.

“I understand your reluctance to trust the
dahl’reisen,”
Rain told them. “A week ago, I shared it. But I have since learned that the
dahl’reisen
who form the Brotherhood of Shadows are not so honorless, nor so irredeemably soul-lost, as I have always believed their kind to be. They saved Ellysetta and me not once, but twice, without any thought for their own safety or even their own survival.”

He swept a hard gaze across the gathered commanders. “That is not, however, the reason I have welcomed them. Simply put, we need them. Our numbers are few while our enemy’s are great. We cannot win this fight without them.” He turned to Bel. “Bel, show them what we are up against.”

Lavender Spirit sparked in Bel’s eyes, setting them aglow as he raised his hands and began to weave. The Fey scouts dispatched earlier in the day from the allied camp had sent back images of Orest and its surroundings, and Bel had pieced the images together to create a large, three-dimensional map of Orest.

The city was crawling with Eld, Feraz, and what looked like Sorrelian and Imrhi mercenaries. Hundreds of thousands of them. Throughout Upper and Lower Orest, and lining the north shore of the Heras, batteries of bowcannon were trained on the Faering Mists and the surrounding areas, their barbed missiles glinting evilly in the sunlight.

As the faces of the commanders grew grim, Rain continued, “These last few days have taught me that as much as I value Fey honor and customs, there is something I value more. That something is the safety and survival of the people I love. If protecting my kingdom, my people, and my mate from Elden evil means I must accept aid from unconventional quarters, then so I shall. Farel and his warriors have bloodsworn themselves to Ellysetta. They wish to fight in defense of the Fading Lands and its allies like the Fey warriors they once were, and I shall allow it. And should they perish in that fight, I shall honor their sacrifice no less than I honor the sacrifice of any other warrior of this alliance.”

He gave them a moment for that to sink in, then said, “If there are those among you who do not feel as I do—if you cannot, for whatever reason, allow yourself to fight in the same army that welcomes these
dahl’reisen
—then you may leave now. Return to whatever place it is you call home and go with my blessing and my thanks for your service. And I will pray to the gods that you spend the rest of your days in peace and that the evil those of us who remain are about to face will never find its way to your doorstep.”

He looked from one grim face to the next, hoping to impress upon them both the depth of his sincerity and his belief that this was not just the right course to take, but the only course. “The
dahl’reisen
and I will excuse ourselves for ten chimes so that you may discuss your concerns openly amongst yourself and make your decision. If you choose to leave, do so before we return. Those who remain, I expect your full commitment and support to all members of this alliance, regardless of what personal feelings you may harbor.”

Rain made his way to the tent entrance and held the flap aside for Farel and his lieutenants to pass through. With a last nod to the Fey and Celierian commanders, he ducked through the opening and let the tent flaps fall back into place.

When Rain returned, he was pleased to see everyone had chosen to stay, though he suspected Bel and Lord Barrial may have had some hand in convincing the others.

“The army is large, by anyone’s estimation,” Rain said as the commanders examined Bel’s three-dimensional weave of Orest, “but with the
dahl’reisen
joining us, the Eld are not as insurmountable a force as they would otherwise have been.”

Cann Barrial arched a brow. “No, they just outnumber us at least ten-to-one and have the advantage of holding both high ground and fortified defenses.”

“Mei sorro.”
Rain gave a wan smile in acknowledgement of the verbal hit. “But before the
dahl’reisen
joined us, we were expecting the odds to be forty-to-one or higher, so ten-to-one is actually good news.” He turned to the map. “We still have our work cut out for us. They’ve bulked up the bowcannon batteries here and here and here.” He pointed to the cliffs circling Upper Orest, the city walls of Lower Orest, and Maiden’s Gate, the fortified series of battlements that stairstepped up the mountainside from Lower to Upper Orest. “These are tairen killers and they need to go.”

“Do we really need to waste lives storming a well-defended city?” Commander Bonn asked. “They can’t go west into the Mists, and the spray from Kiyera’s Veil is poison to them. Why not just pen them in and wait.”

Farel shook his head. “Penning them in won’t work. The Mages can use the Well to come and go at will. And as for Kiyera’s Veil, the Mages have already dammed the Source that feeds it to take the Heras out of play. The northern falls are dry and the river levels have been dropping all day.”

Guilt stabbed Rain. He was the one who’d made the call not to send warriors to Dunelan.
“Sha vel’mei.
I should have sent troops to protect the Source before leaving for Elvia, but I thought we could dispatch warriors from Orest if there was trouble.”

Bel shook his head. “Don’t berate yourself, Rain. It was the right decision at the time. We thought the Army of Darkness would strike at Kreppes. Any of us would have done the same.”

“Speaking of the Army of Darkness, is anyone besides me still waiting to see it?” Gaelen looked up from the table, where he’d been scanning the three-dimensional Spirit weave with intensity. “I mean, clearly this isn’t it.” He gestured to the Spirit weave of Orest.

“I wouldn’t exactly call it a ragged band,” Eimar replied with an arched brow. “There’s easily half a million blades in the city.”

“Aiyah,”
Gaelen agreed, “but this Mage spent decades—possibly centuries—planning for this war, laying the groundwork, infiltrating the north, doing everything possible to drive a wedge between Celieria and the Fading Lands. Do you honestly believe half a million troops was the most he could come up with? We cobbled together close to a hundred thousand in just a few months.”

“Maybe there is no Army of Darkness,” Cann suggested. “Maybe it was just deliberate misinformation leaked to divide our forces and scatter our armies across the continent and make us easier to defeat. If this Mage truly does command such overwhelming numbers, why would he not have unleashed them at Kreppes or Great Bay? It would have ensured an Elden victory. With the King’s Army destroyed, they could have swept through the whole of Celieria in a matter of months.”

“I agree,” Gaelen said.

“One thing my centuries in the Brotherhood taught me was never to underestimate this Mage. He plays to win. He doesn’t bluff and he always has backups for his backups. It would be a mistake for us to believe his Army of Darkness doesn’t exist just because we haven’t seen it yet.”

“I think Kreppes and Great Bay were the diversions, and the Fading Lands has been the target all along,” Rain said. “Think about it. We were holding Orest and keeping the Eld at bay until we captured that Mage and learned about this supposed Army of Darkness. Once we were lured into leaving Orest and dividing our forces, King Dorian was murdered by Sebourne. Prince Dorian nearly drowned when his ship went down in Great Bay. Our forces were winnowed. The Eld took Orest. And Annoura was left surrounded by Mage-claimed courtiers, and would have been claimed herself by the Mage masquerading as her Favorite.” Rain spread his hands. “My guess is the Eld never intended to take Celieria by force. They’ve always intended to conquer it from within, then use it as a base to launch on the Fading Lands.”

“What about Mists?” Eimar interjected. “No invader who ever went into the Mists has ever come out again.”

Rain shrugged. “Maybe they’ve found a way through it using the Well. Maybe they’ve learned how to circumvent its magic. Maybe they have some weapon or magic we haven’t seen yet.” He’d already contacted Sybharukai and asked her to recall half a dozen of the tairen from Orest and have them scout the perimeters of the Faering Mists for any suspicious activity. “All I know is, if they want Orest this badly, we can’t let them keep it.”

“Which brings us back to where we started,” Bel said.

“Aiyah.
And our first priority is to take out those bowcannon batteries. Both here on the wall”—Rain pointed to the image of Maiden’s Gate—“and here across the river in Eld.”

“The
dahl’reisen
will take the cannon across the river.” Farel grinned with dark humor. “We’re used to raiding beneath Mage noses.”

“Bas’ka.
Then, Cann and Commander Bonn, I’ll need you and your best cannoneers and siege masters marching with the Fey here and here. The Fey will give you cover, while you give the Eld hell.”

“With pleasure,” Cann said.

“What about siege weapons?” Bonn asked. “We left everything behind.”

“Rijonn and the Earth masters will weave them for us like they did at Kreppes.”

“And if there really is an Army of Darkness?” Gaelen asked.

Rain fixed a grim look upon him.
“Dai tabor, Fey, bas desrali lor bas tirei.”
Then, Fey, we die where we stand.

Celieria ~ Orest

The Great Sun was just beginning to set, turning the Faering Mists into a sea of flame, as the armies of Light crested the last hill overlooking Orest and the Heras River valley. Steli, Xisanna, and Perahl, who had been running with the allies rather than flying above them to avoid giving away their position, drew to a halt behind Rain and Ellysetta and crouched there, growling low in their chests at the sight laid out before them. As Rain and his generals had seen earlier today in Bel’s weaves, the city was overrun. Instead of the bright colors of Celieria and House Teleon, the purple flags and pennants of Eld now snapped in the breeze from the battered ramparts of Lower and Upper Orest. Instead of the colored tabards and shining silver armor of Fey and Celierian defenders, black armored Eld swarmed the city like a colony of ants. Smoke billowed up from the charred remnants of buildings throughout the city. Fey and Celierian corpses, impaled on pikes, surrounded the walls of Lower Orest, serving both as a macabre victory boast and a grim warning to would-be patriots who might think to recapture the city for Celieria.

But it was on the gatherings of great, gleaming black dragons that Rain’s gaze became fixed. Like flocks of colossal vultures, they perched on the half-eaten bodies of fallen tairen, toothy snouts ripped the remaining chunks of flesh and hide from bloody bones with ravening savagery. Wings flapped and hisses, roars, and blasts of flame erupted as the dragons fought over their terrible feast.

Ellysetta reached for Rain’s hand. Her fingers curled around his, squeezing tight. “Who?”

“Barsul and Storus. They were the youngest of Cahlah’s kits before this last hatching.”

She gave a fanning waving and murmured a prayer for the tairens’ souls. “We will avenge them,
shei’tan.”

“May the gods will it should be so. I have marked their locations. After this battle, the tairen will take what is left of their remains back to Fey’Bahren for their Fire Song, so their songs will not be entirely lost to the pride.”

Rain dragged his gaze from the tairen remains and scanned the lines of the allied troops. The
dahl’reisen
had circled around to the east, leaving the Fey and Celierians to advance from the south. As they had for the battle of Kreppes, hundreds of Earth masters had spent all afternoon constructing trebuchets, siege towers, and bowcannon of their own to aid in the reconquest of Orest.

As Farel had pointed out earlier, normal siege tactics of blockading the city and waiting for starvation and thirst and the Mists to take their toll would not work. The best hope of victory was to drive the enemy troops out of the city walls and onto the field. While Mages might be able to protect themselves against Fey attacks, on an open field, the rest of their army would find even ten-to-one odds against an army of Fey swordsmasters to be a statistical disadvantage.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be easy to convince the Eld they should surrender their fortified mountain stronghold and confront the Fey on an open field. The only way Rain knew how to do it was to make Orest more hazard than haven—starting with taking out those bowcannon batteries and the dragons so the tairen could have free reign of the sky.

“He’s here.”

“Who?” Rain frowned at Ellysetta. A strange stillness had settled over her, and her shadowed gaze was fixed on a point north of Orest.

“The Mage.” She clasped her arms across her chest. “I can feel him. He’s come to witness his victory.”

The Shadar horn in Rain’s veins went hot as Rage rose, swift and violent. Instinct moved him closer to her side, blocking her body protectively with his as he followed her gaze north. His eyes narrowed and he adjusted their focus to bring the distant shores of Eld into closer view. A purple canopy had been erected behind the lines of bowcannon, and dozens of blue-robed Primages were milling about beneath it, but if the High Mage was among them, Rain could not see him.