Stormed Fortress (96 page)

Early Winter 5671

Dark Hour

By sundown, a biting east wind razed the estuary, whipping gusts that hampered the loading of Adruin
'
s out-bound galley. With the sabotaged wharf left a mangle of sunk timber, and the upper-tier catapults busy hammering ruin on any ship caught within range, the craft lay tied in close to the battered stonewalls. A rough gangway lashed from loose planks and moored tenders boarded the assault troops due for leave from the harbourfront. Elaira attended her wounded, beleaguered, on the vessel
'
s exposed upper deck. If the freezing weather endangered her critical cases, the blaze in the sail-loft forestalled better handling. The Alliance captain
'
s offer of transport defrayed the certain destruction that swept through the sea-quarter streets.

'
That
'
s setting your crown prince, stunned helpless, within the cursed reach of his half-brother
'
s fury
'
Dakar accosted Talvish in a searing whisper.
'
Not to mention, we
'
ll be under the itching noses of the Light
'
s watch-dog priests!
'
Dockside, the pair of them grunted to heft the locked chest that hid the Paravian sword and the heirloom lyranthe. While the enemy assisted the on-going task of hauling their litter-bound casualties across the heaving span from the ruined landing, any snatched conversation was risky.

Yet the blond liegeman, who gimped with his sword-arm strapped up, only backed Elaira
'
s decision.
'
How else to challenge the Alliance
'
s cordon?
'
He tipped his chin towards the lights of the patrol galleys raking to and fro across the closed harbour mouth.
'
We
'
re bang in the midst of those blood-feeding sharks! Bravado alone cannot jack a small boat, or slip past that accursed blockade! We will cross alive if we go under sanction by Lysaer
'
s officers.
'

But the persistent hunch to the Mad Prophet
'
s shoulders decried the logical option.

'
Trust Davien
'
s working!
'
Talvish urged in clipped haste.
'
Our chances are sure to be better ashore, where our leaving won
'
t be as nakedly obvious.
'

Against Dakar
'
s steamed silence, and all better sense, Arithon
'
s wrapped form was bundled aboard by two Sunwheel soldiers, under Glendien
'
s rapacious oversight. Talvish perched atop the stowed trunk, strategically placed in close reach, as the galley
'
s crew raced the changed tide to cast off.

The vessel embarked under cover of darkness. She surged into the icy race of black water to a blare of horns, and the crackling flutter of her Adruin registry and Sunwheel pennant. Errant danger increased as the oarsmen dug in, driven at double-stroke pace. As they pulled the ship clear of the looming cliff, only nightfall and speed could foil the defenders
'
hurled shot. Under hot fire from the upper citadel, the galley ran, lanterns shuttered. Her zigzagged course dodging the whistle and splash of lofted boulders unleashed by the trebuchets.

A glancing hit splintered the yardarm and topmast. Deck-hands sprang to jettison the entangled wreckage, while a luckless by-stander writhed underneath, screaming with a compound fracture. The bone-setting left Elaira too engrossed for worry, or Glendien
'
s shattering grief. The clanswoman mixed remedies without anyone
'
s prompting, while Dakar, reluctant, wound cantrips to ease the seaman
'
s piteous suffering. Throughout, Arithon lay senseless. Kept under Talvish
'
s tacit watch, his condition stayed changeless, while the galley bore off, and the tumult of battle fell away astern.

Parrien also remained blessed by unconsciousness, while beyond the wake thrashed up by the oars, the stamped silhouette of the citadel brooded over a necklet of flame. The conflagration streamed from roof to roof, roaring throughout the tight streets of the sea-quarter bailey. The galley made steady headway through the fouled air, until the rolling billows of smoke chased away on the wind off the Cildein.

Beyond range of the trebuchets, the deck-officer ordered the lamps kindled. Sailhands at work on the mangled rigging began whistling as the oar-stroke was relaxed, then suspended for the blockade challenge. Throughout the parade review for security, Rathain
'
s delegation stayed beneath notice, too obviously busy soothing the wretch with the fr
acture, and m
inistering to the line-up of others who sustained gashes and splinters. In deference to the critically wounded, Admin
'
s galley was passed in brisk order. She rowed past the gutted keeps at the harbour mouth, and changed course for a shore-line entrenched with the Alliance war camp.

'
More lives stand in jeopardy than you can possibly imagine,
'
Dakar snapped to Elaira, still flushed to sweat from restraint of the seaman just strapped into splints.

The enchantress returned a nettled glance.
'
I prefer freezing chill and overzealous protection to the certainty of a roasting. You aren
'
t busy enough? We
'
ve run short of blankets. Glendien needs you to borrow spare cloaks from the rank-and-file men who are sheltered below decks.
'

She turned her back, forced the semblance of calm as she addressed the badgering pressure of too many helpers. Since her talent tended Alliance men, now, every movement she made tripped over the hindrance, as soldiers with wounded comrades aboard crowded in to assist. She put them to work. Some fetched and carried, while others rigged makeshift sailcloth or strung hammocks to shelter the injured against the rough crossing. If Glendien was just as raggedly hand-tied attending the stricken, Talvish had contrived to position his body to shield his unconscious liege from the spray off the foredeck. The covert restraint galled him, that his masquerade in a Sunwheel surcoat permitted no more without risk of undue attention.

That misery lasted, until Elaira made rounds to ascertain the prince
'
s stitched loin had withstood the trauma of loading.
'
You! Blond chap with the sword wounds! I don
'
t care blazes where you
'
ve placed your loyalty. Your sound arm is needed. Steady that grandfather
'
s hammock, forthwith. The gut wound he
'
s suffered fares ill, set to swinging. I won
'
t lose a life to your lazy comfort. Keep him under your charge till he
'
s brought to safe landfall, or believe this, you
'
ll answer to me!
'

Arithon
'
s exposure was not the sole pitfall to strain her inadequate resource: Parrien s
'
Brydion also languished among her prostrate wounded. The trump blow dealt by Dakar would not leave him harmless. Already his groggy awareness resurged in the sting of the freshening air. Elaira sensed his prideful rage at her back, as, stripped naked in blankets, he found himself hog-tied and bandaged on a galley flying the hated flag of Adruin. His curdling howl did little good. The poultice that packed his bludgeoned nape also bound his thick jawbone and gagged him.

'
You are hurting, dear man?
'
Elaira knelt at his shoulder, called for a candle-lamp, and flared the light in his face. His murderous glower left her unfazed through a pitiless examination.
'
Awake, and past fortunate to be so,
'
she murmured.
'
Head trauma is unpredictably dangerous!
'

The affront she tossed back into Parrien
'
s teeth stayed whetted beneath smiling honey.
'
Your life is thus far preserved, an
astounding
grace brought by unbiased compassion. You are nicely concussed, which makes it unsafe to dose you on soporifics. Therefore, your sad suffering must be endured. Do I have to warn? The unwise move on your part could prove fatal, with my sympathy stretched beyond snapping. Act the fool, and your get will be raised by your widow, for I will not stir to save you.
'

Since his clenched fists were chilled, she called for a hammock and a dry cloak. Then she took further pains to steer Glendien clear, and set Dakar to post sharp watch over him.

In due time, the galley approached the far shore. The slap of the waves slackened as she neared the cove landing, and the glimmer of torch-light unveiled the teeming sprawl of the war camp. Raucous noise as the off-watch companies let off steam rebounded across the black water, wind-snatched talk cut by jubilant shouts, celebrating the day
'
s massive victory. Beyond the relief ranks, packed in wait on the strand for their turn to press the engagement, the cookfires warmed rowdy singers. Their infectious high spirits spurred shipboard morale. Sternwards, a sergeant was cracking a joke, while the deck-hands itched to lay hands on their beer, and romp with nubile harlots.

'
Beggin
'
yer pardon, sweet,
'
one ventured to Glendien with a lusty grin. "There
'
s whores like their play hot and rough, and some strumpets too bawdy to settle for a dullard husband.
'

'
Has your itching male pucker
replaced
your runt brain?
'
the clanswoman retorted, en route to empty a slop bucket.
'
Yap such to your mother, she
'
d flay your rank tongue. That
'
s if you
'
re not a pimp
'
s rut yourself, bred for naught but a swaggering jackal.
'

To whoops from his fellows, the seaman laughed back.
'
Virgin witch!
'
he sniped, flagrantly ripe for a dousing.
'
What would you know of the wicked delights found in an evening
'
s dalliance?
'

'
Enough to hobble your play in the sheets,
'
Elaira cut in from the sidelines. Arrived from the shadows,
just in time,
she forestalled her posed novice
'
s folly.

The men scattered to their posts, while Glendien paused at the leeward rail: not to break, despite her pale face, and the grief that fought welling tears.
'
I can handle them.
'

'
You can
'
t,
'
contradicted Elaira.
'
But where there
'
s no choice, we
'
ll bear up. Take a minute. We shall need iron nerves for the hazards on landing.
'

The weariness also sucked through her in waves, anxiety chafed by the effusive crew, and the relapses caused by the open-air passage. She also snatched refuge, aching and cold; beyond drained from the wearing hours of subterfuge, and sharp-focused use of strong magecraft. No sigils had buttressed her healing, throughout. Only the free use of crystal, as taught by Ath
'
s adepts.

'
You
'
re unwell,
'
remarked Glendien.
'
Worn thin and pressed near to overextension.
'

'
I will manage,
'
Elaira insisted, a ruefully honest glance darted sidewards.

'
You couldn
'
t.
'
The clanswoman flashed a bitter-sweet grin.
'
But since when does helplessness stop any woman whose beloved requires protection?
'

The moment was shattered by a brisk hail from the sloop, scudding in under sail from the shore-line. Shouted orders disrupted the inbound routine for a conference with the galley
'
s captain. While the drum changed beat to backwater the oars, the ship
'
s mate sprang to brighten the forward candle-lamp. His poised light unveiled the streaming pennant that declared the approach of a Light-sanctioned courier.

'
Dharkaron Avenger show mercy to idiots,
'
the Mad Prophet huffed, arrived at Elaira
'
s right side.
'
Here
'
s the prickling gamut, no question.
'