Frostborn: The False King (17 page)

“You’re not an urdhracos now,” said Calliande. “How did you change?”

“Madness filled me,” said Third, “and in that madness I returned to Nightmane Forest, intending to slay until I was myself slain. The Lord Magister found me and fought me, and I begged him to slay me. Yet he refused. Brother Caius suggested that I be baptized and repent of my sins, that I might die with my soul at peace. I did so…and the power lost its hold over me. I faced myself in a vision, and when I awoke, I was as you see me now…and my will was my own for the first time in a thousand years.” 

“So Ridmark saved you,” said Calliande. 

“The magister militum and the Queen both,” said Third. “Mara was the first of the Traveler’s daughters to be free. I was the second, and someday we shall free others.” 

“If you’re the second,” said Calliande, “why do you call yourself Third?”

“I no longer remember my name,” said Third. “It has been too long, and I have had three lives. The first was with my mother. The second was as an urdhracos. The third began when the Lord Magister and the Queen freed me.” 

“I see,” said Calliande. “I am sorry if I was harsh with you. I was…startled, that is all.” 

Third nodded. “Your politeness is appreciated, but unnecessary. Your reaction was informative.” 

“How so?” said Calliande. 

“You reacted in much the same way as the Lord Magister when he learned you were coming,” said Third. 

Calliande let out a long breath. “Why are you asking me about this?”

“My sister commanded me to protect the Lord Magister,” said Third. “To do so I must understand him in all aspects, if it is necessary to protect him from himself. The Queen told me of his wife and the sorceress he loved before the Frostborn returned.”

“Morigna,” said Calliande. 

“I presume he makes war upon the Frostborn in vengeance for her death,” said Third.

“He does,” said Calliande. 

“Yet the Queen did not mention you were once the Lord Magister’s lover,” said Third.

“I wasn’t,” said Calliande. 

Third tilted her head to the side. “There is no need to lie.”

“We weren’t,” said Calliande. “It was…complicated. He saved me from the Mhalekites on Black Mountain. We kissed once, but I didn’t remember who I was and…some other things happened. So he ended up with Morigna. I was at peace with that…”

Third’s expression turned dubious.

“I was at peace with that,” insisted Calliande. “And then Morigna was murdered, and…as I said, it is complicated.”

“It is simple,” said Third. “You are in love with the Lord Magister, and feel guilty about it because of the murder of Morigna. Furthermore, you feel further guilt because of the distraction from your duties as Keeper. It is simple.” She considered it for a moment. “Albeit uncomfortable.” 

“Truly,” said Calliande. “And this could all have been avoided. If only I had realized the truth about Shadowbearer, if I had…”

Third offered a shrug. “Such recriminations are futile. War is chaos. No one may see the outcome. That is why the Lord Magister’s raids upon the Frostborn have been so effective, for he turned chaos against the enemy. But you cannot blame yourself for an outcome you did not foresee.” 

She was certainly wrong about that. 

“What does Ridmark think?” said Calliande.

“Rage drives the Lord Magister,” said Third. “He blames the Frostborn and the Enlightened for the death of Morigna, and will take his vengeance upon them or die in the process.”

“Did I upset him?” said Calliande. 

“No,” said Third. “He is afraid.”

“Of me?” said Calliande, baffled.

“Of your death,” said Third. “His wife and Morigna were close to him, and they died. He cares a great deal about you. A man who has taken two serious wounds is loath to endure a third.” 

“That’s irrational,” said Calliande. “Anyone of us could die at any moment. It is the nature of human life. Even without the Frostborn and the Enlightened, our lives could end at any time.”

“Emotions by nature are not rational,” said Third. “It is no less rational than blaming yourself for the return of the Frostborn.”

Calliande scowled. “You’re very observant, aren’t you?” 

“Perhaps,” said Third. “But I am a thousand years old. There are very few things I have not seen before.” 

“All right,” said Calliande. She let out a long breath. “Thank you. I feel better.”

Third inclined her head.

“And let me help you,” said Calliande. “The Queen wanted Ridmark kept safe. So do I. Let us work together to that end.”

“Agreed,” said Third. “The Traveler always feared the powers of the Keeper. I wish to ask you a question.”

“Ask,” said Calliande. 

“The Lord Magister has nightmares,” said Third, “for no discernable reason.”

“He mentioned that,” said Calliande. “He cannot remember them. Given all the things he has seen, that is to be expected.” 

“On several occasions, after awakening he has said the phrase ‘burn with me’ and forgotten it later,” said Third. 

“Burn with me?” said Calliande. 

“Does that mean anything to you?” said Third.

“No, I’ve never heard it before,” said Calliande. 

“What do you think it means?” said Third.

“I don’t know,” said Calliande.

Whatever it was, Calliande suspected, it would be nothing good.

Chapter 9: Winged Claws

The next morning Ridmark awoke with a splitting headache but felt otherwise rested. That was just as well. He had not been lying when he told Calliande they would need their strength for the journey ahead. 

“Our best route,” he told Mara and the others once they assembled in the Eastern Court, “is to ford the Moradel and then cross the Northerland as quickly as possible. An army could not do it, but a small band of thirty horsemen should manage it. Once across the Northerland, we will keep between the Qazaluuskan Forest and the shore of the Lake of Mourning. From there, we can cross Mhorluusk and Caertigris, and then arrive at the Range and the lands of the manetaurs.”

“That is a long journey, sir,” said Ector, frowning. “And the bone orcs of the Qazaluuskan Forest are eager to claim victims in the name of their blood god Qazalask.”

Kharlacht rumbled in agreement. “There were worshippers of Qazalask in the mountains of Vhaluusk, distant kin to those in the Qazaluuskan Forest. They are riddled with superstitious madness, and kill for the slightest of reasons to appease their god.”

“It is a dangerous path,” agreed Ridmark, “but it is the least dangerous of our choices. We could circle around the Black Mountain to the north, but we risk running into the patrols of the Frostborn or blundering into the lairs of the urdmordar. We could head south along the Moradel, but that means we would have to cross the lands of nobles loyal to Tarrabus Carhaine. The bone orcs are dangerous, but they hold no loyalty to Tarrabus, and might decide to leave us alone. This route is our best chance to get the Keeper alive to the Range.”

He remembered Calliande lying motionless upon the road, the poisoned bolt leaking its venom into her blood. 

No, he did not want to see that ever again.

“I agree,” said Calliande. She wore her green cloak and leather jerkin and bronze diadem today and looked the very image of the Keeper. “It is an evil road, to be sure, but the least evil of the choices before us.”

“So be it,” said Mara. “Qhazulak shall remain in command of the Anathgrimm during your absence, and we shall give you what supplies you think best. Brother Caius, you will accompany them?”

“I shall,” said Caius. “It has been a long time since I have visited Khald Tormen. Perhaps too long. In any event, if I am to return to my homeland at least it shall be for a worthy cause.” 

“I shall come as well,” said Kharlacht. He glanced at Caius. “Someone needs to make sure you don’t get your head chopped off.”

“Also a worthy cause,” said Caius, “though I may be biased.”

“That,” said Kharlacht, “and I said I would see this through to the end. It is not yet over.”

“Thank you,” said Ridmark. Kharlacht was as reliable as the sunrise, and Ridmark would be glad of his help. 

“Sister,” said Mara, and Third stirred. “I ask you to go with them to ensure the success of their mission. Bring them home safely.”

“It shall be as you say,” said Third. 

“I have prepared your documents,” said Jager, producing a set of rolled scrolls with a flourish. “These name the Keeper of Andomhaim and the magister militum of Nightmane Forest as the ambassadors of Queen Mara, giving you full authority to negotiate in her name.” He handed the scrolls to Calliande. “Please don’t give away the Forest. We need it.”

“The manetaurs and the dwarves will recognize the danger,” said Calliande, “and we shall return with allies.”

Ridmark hoped that she was right. They needed allies, and they needed them now. Without them, Tarrabus and the Frostborn would almost certainly prevail. 

And if not…Ridmark intended to leave a ring of slain foes around him. 

###

They left that afternoon, crossing one of the hidden fords over the River Moradel and reentering the hills of the Northerland. The Anathgrimm had no use for horses, but some had made their way to Nightmane Forest nonetheless, and Ridmark led the way on horseback, scouting the path. Third and Kharlacht ranged with him, scouting for enemies. Sir Ector led his thirty mounted men-at-arms, and Gavin, Camorak, and Antenora hung back to defend Calliande in the event of an attack. Ridmark was glad that both of them had accompanied the Keeper. Gavin had grown into a formidable Swordbearer, and he had seen firsthand the devastation Antenora’s fiery magic could wreak, while Camorak could heal any injuries the Keeper suffered.

He had left Accolon at Nightmane Forest, the boy serving as squire to Qhazulak. Leaving him in Nightmane Forest was dangerous, but taking him closer to Tarrabus would be far worse.  

They headed east, keeping away from the main roads. Ector had wanted to head southeast towards Castra Marcaine, but Ridmark overruled that idea. The bulk of the Frostborn forces in the Northerland were either at their citadel in Dun Licinia, building a new set of fortifications along the Moradel, or besieging Castra Marcaine. The further their party stayed away from those three locations, the better chance they had of slipping through the Northerland undetected. 

“If not Castra Marcaine,” said Ector, “then what route will we take?”

“Northeast for two days along the Moradel road,” said Ridmark, “and then straight east along the valley of the River Marcaine until we reach the Qazaluuskan Forest. We’ll be in the most danger when we pass south of Dun Licinia. The Frostborn keep their heaviest patrols there, and we run the most risk of discovery. We shall have to move quickly and quietly.” 

On the first day from Nightmane Forest, Third returned to report a patrol of medvarth flanked by locusari warriors. Ridmark led the riders into the trees, picking a winding path through the rocky hills, and Ridmark commanded the horsemen to wait as he and Third watched the enemy.

At a time like this, he especially missed Morigna. She had been able to use her magic to bind ravens and other animals to act as scouts, and that would have been useful. Ridmark watched as the medvarth marched along the road, overseen by a dozen khaldjari. Likely they were going to raise forts along the eastern bank of the Moradel. A half-dozen locusari warriors flanked the medvarth column, acting as outriders. Fortunately, they eluded the locusari warriors, and the enemy column continued on its way.  

Ridmark rejoined the others once the medvarth soldiers were out of earshot.

“Did we avoid notice?” said Caius.

“Aye,” said Ridmark. Blue fire flashed, and Third reappeared next to Antenora’s horse. “Not by much, though.”

“Are they looking for us?” said Kharlacht.

“Not specifically,” said Ridmark. “More likely than not, they’re patrolling for any Anathgrimm warbands. We hit the Frostborn hard enough that they’ll be on their guard for some time.” He shook his head. “If I had known we would have to cross the Northerland, I wouldn’t have stirred up the Frostborn so much.” 

“The Sight can give us some advance warning,” said Calliande. She had been quiet since they had left Nightmane Forest. Likely she had been using the Sight to scour their surroundings for enemies. 

“Yes,” said Ridmark. “The next two or three days will be the most dangerous. Once we get past Dun Licinia, the odds of encountering a patrol go down with every mile.”

###

“Then,” said Gavin, “we left Castra Carhaine…and, well, you were there for most of the rest of it.”

Third nodded, her black eyes never ceasing their inspection of the surrounding hills. “It is unusual to encounter Swordbearers of your age. Not unheard of, but unusual.” 

“Gavin Swordbearer,” said Antenora, “has shown great valor.” 

Gavin shrugged. “I don’t know about that. I’ve mostly been terrified and trying not to make a mistake. I don’t know if that is valor or not.” 

He considered asking if she had met any Swordbearers and then realized that if she had, she had killed them in battle in service to the Traveler. Best not to raise that topic. 

“And you have truly been to Old Earth?” said Third. 

“For fifteen centuries I dwelt there,” said Antenora, “trying to atone for my sins by defending the people of Old Earth from dark magic. I do not remember much of it, which may be a mercy. When the Warden prepared to open his great gate, I saw a way to pass from Old Earth to this world, and I have served the Keeper as her apprentice ever since.”

“What is Old Earth like?” said Third. “I am curious. I heard it discussed in the old tales of Malahan Pendragon, but never thought to meet someone from there.” 

Antenora considered for a moment. “It is much the same as this world. There are many factions and nations, all of them locked in endless struggle with each other. The men of Old Earth built many cunning devices and powerful engines and used them to work both wonders and terrors. There…”

Hoof beats drummed on the road, and Antenora fell silent as Ridmark steered his horse towards them, riding at a good clip.