The Godlost Land (22 page)

“First she asks who it was that you sent to free her. She wishes to know the soldier's name.”

“As I said to Nyma, I sent no one.”

It seemed they still hadn't realised that he was the warrior. But he understood that. After all, he was a wizard and wizards weren't soldiers. Maybe he should be grateful for that he thought. After all, it had not been an amicable rescue.

“The soldier is not in any trouble I assure you. The High Priestess would simply like to extend her thanks to him.”

“And I stand by my answer. I sent no one. Next question please.”

Whether she believed him or not he was done answering her. She wasn't done with the question though. He knew that. For a while she just continued to stand there, apparently weighing up the likely outcomes if she asked it again and eventually coming to the conclusion that it would go no better. But she wasn't going to put the question away completely he suspected. Just put it aside for the moment. He was sure that she intended to ask him again at another time.

“All right then, – ” she fixed him with an irritated stare “ – you are a wizard living in the Rainbow Mountains, one of the five kingdoms, when most of your kind are gone and the rest have joined the enemy. And thus far we don't even know your name. How are we to know you do not follow the Circle?”

That actually made sense to him – unfortunately. Ever since Geron had told him the truth he had been asking himself the same questions about everyone he had ever known. Trying to work out which if any of his friends had truly been his friends. And whether any of them had helped murder his family. He couldn't believe that any of them would do such a thing. But if Geron was to be believed, most of the wizards had. Which left him with no way of knowing.

And that was a hard thing to live with. It left him with a terrible question that he could never answer. Which of his friends should he mourn – because they were most probably dead? And which did he curse with his every breath because they'd helped kill them? Which of them did he now have to pray were actually dead because the alternative was too horrible to imagine?

But the pain was a private matter, and he could dwell on it another day. Not now while he was being questioned.

“First, you do know my name. You've been asking after me in each shop I have visited and in each they have told you my name. Have they not?” He stared straight at her until she wilted a little.

“Harl the trapper.” She didn't like being forced to say it, but she was out of choices. It was either admit what she knew or end up in some strange world of pretence.

“As it is. I am Harl. I trap rabbits and possums for their fur. So I am Harl the trapper.” She didn't seem that impressed by his admission of his name though. He noticed the cynical stare she gave him. He couldn't help it – he wasn't blind. No doubt she thought he was lying, even though it was actually the truth.

“Next as I said to Nyma when she first came to my home, I am not a wizard. I am an arcane smith. I enchant wares. Armour, weapons, clothes, charms. I have a great knowledge of spells. But my magic is restrained. I can't cast. I cannot throw fireballs or lightning bolts. I can't create storms or thunder cracks. I don't have any power to summon. Nor do I have any magics of the mind to control people with.”

“Lastly you would not know about the Circle at all were it not for me. I was the one who placed the bonds of truth on Geron and asked him about the attack upon Lion's Crest. It would seem a silly thing for me to do were I one of the Circle. Besides which if I was, Geron would surely have known me. He does not because though we had seen one another in Lion's Crest before the attack, I was too far beneath him for him to notice me. And he'd obviously never seen me since.”

It seemed like a reasonable argument to him. Logical and well stated. But he wasn't so sure she agreed from the look on her face. A little bit of doubt coupled with consideration as she thought on his claims. It was quite a pretty face he thought, though a little too stern.

“Then if you are who you say you are you would be happy to have someone come and examine your magic?”

“No!” The denial came out of his mouth almost without his thinking about it – and he wasn't completely sure why it should matter so much. But it did. Maybe he'd simply been running and hiding for too long. Concealing his magic. His privacy was precious to him.

“My magic is my own as is my life. But is it my magic that you're interested in, or whether I'm in league with the Circle?”

He wasn't sure quite which mattered most to her, nor why. But he would have thought he had given quite a compelling argument that showed he wasn't of the Circle the last time he had seen Nyma. On the other hand he realised, there was a war raging somewhere out there. And no doubt the new temple priests would want to make sure of the wizards in the lands they freed from the clutches of the old priests. They would want to know their loyalty and their ability both. Especially when it seemed the old temple priests were actually wizards and thralls.

“Both, but mostly the former. For now.”

Harl wished she hadn't added the last part, but at least he knew he could prove what he could do in a matter of a few minutes at most.

“All right then, come with me.”

With that he stood up, swung his pack over his back and marched out across the street and then along a few doors to Yarl's place. Yarl was of course out the back in his smithy. They could hear him beating away at some metal. Probably horse shoes. That was the normal lot for a blacksmith, which was one reason Harl was glad he had never become one. Shoeing horses was back breaking work, and painful when you caught a hoof in your softer parts as was common. So Harl walked around the narrow foot path to the back of his shop and the smithy where he was working.

“Hail Yarl.”

He greeted the blacksmith as he often did and walked up to the pit. Then before either his follower or the blacksmith could say anything he rolled up the sleeve of his cloak, reached into the pit which was still flaming hot and pulled out a burning coal. Then he walked back to the woman and held out his hand with the burning coal in it just in front of her.

“Arcane smith. Completely immune to fire. Does that satisfy you?”

She stared at him for a long time before finally nodding, clearly beyond the ability to speak just then. He could understand that he supposed. The first time he had seen his old master plunge his hand into a bed of burning coals he had been much the same. Just as he had been the first time he had done it himself.

“Good.” He walked back to the pit and tossed the coal back in while Yarl stared at him with a similar look on his face. But then he had had even less warning than the woman and that wasn't something a man saw every day.

“And if you doubt my craft –.” He drew his great sword with a well practised flourish and strode over to the pile of fire wood in the back of the yard and brought it down on a log as thick as his thigh. The sword cut cleanly through it and without any of the noise that an axe would make. There weren't many swords that could do such a thing.

Harl sheathed his blade and nodded politely to the still speechless blacksmith, before heading back around the side of his shop to the street. It was a little while before he heard the sound of his inquisitor behind him. It was only then that he turned to face her.

“If you get an artisan to examine the bonds of truth I left Geron wearing you'll notice the makings of the craftsman upon it. They are my markings
, and any wizard and most of the artisans from Lion's Crest will know them
. That should prove everything I've said and shown you.”

“Now is there anything more you need to ask?”

For an answer all he got was an eventual shake of the head, and that was enough for him.

“Good. Then I'll be on my way, and I trust I won't be receiving any more visitors any time soon. I have had quite enough of them. All I want is to live my life in peace.”

It was rude of course, but he was beyond politeness. In fact he was mostly just tired. Not from the long walk into town or the shopping. Not even from the horror of having had to deal with Geron. He was simply exhausted from five long years of having spent his life running and hiding. And after a while a life lived like that became something a man grew weary of. All of these visits just added to his weariness.

And now, talking to the woman, having to prove himself to her, it was growing. It was only to be expected when it seemed that those he had hated and feared for five long years were actually innocents. When he had discovered that those he had looked up to and wished one day to join, had turned out to be the guilty. And especially when he knew she was right to be suspicious. He was a wizard even if arcane smiths did not see it quite the same way. And wizards could not be trusted.

His world had been destroyed by that betrayal. Though destroyed was too gentle a term. It was as though his entire life had been stolen from him and what was left of it made no sense. He felt like a fish flapping on a pier trying to work out what had happened to the water. Everything had been turned upside down and he simply didn't know who to believe any more. Who to trust.

The worst though was the doubt as to who was friend and who was foe. When he'd first started running his worry had been whether any of his friends had died – though of course logically he knew most of them probably had. Just as he knew his family surely had. But now he had to wonder if some of them had been a part of this betrayal? Because most of his friends were wizards. And most of the wizards from Lion's Crest had been involved. It was one thing to fear and grieve for missing friends. It was something else entirely to have to wonder if they had ever been friends at all. If they had been involved in the death of his family. And then to spend long hours and days thinking back on his time with them, wondering if any of that friendship had been true.

Really, all he wanted was to be left alone. Just for a while. Six months or perhaps a year. Maybe two. Long enough for the world to make sense again. Long enough to see whether this new hope that had sprung into being would last. To know once and for all whether he would have to move on or not.

But even as he walked away he knew that that wasn't going to happen. He didn't know when or why. But he knew that people were going to continue to bother him. It seemed to be his curse in life.

Chapter Fifteen

Cut Valley Holding. It was a large town of nearly thirty thousand people, though thanks to the morning's battle that was now less by quite a few hundred. The temple complex that had grown out of the centre of it like a weed was gone too. All that remained was a small forest of burnt out timbers and a column of smoke lifting high into the blue sky. A banner of dark fume announcing to the world and more importantly to Midland Heights what they'd done.

The priests were gone, most of them dead. But while fifty or sixty had died, still another half dozen lived. But not for long Erislee thought. They had been made to drink the tea of root and vine – the pointy ends of swords were good for persuading people to do things like that – and then been manacled and shackled to a chain running from the back of a wagon. Soon they would be marched away to the Fortress of Glass River to the south where they would be interrogated. After that they would be tried and almost certainly found guilty and hung. Such was the way of things.

Erislee was glad she wasn't in charge of that side of the campaign. While there was no doubt that they deserved to die for their crimes, there was something about the almost mechanical process of interrogation, trial and execution that struck her as just a little hard. It was one thing to kill a man in the heat of battle as the hundreds of soldiers of the false temple had been. But this other thing – it was almost cold blooded. But then she was High Priestess to Artemis the Huntress, not Dike Astraea the Goddess of Justice. What did she truly know of justice?

And after discovering the priests' execution pit she could not deny the people's call for justice no matter how harsh it seemed. She'd heard rumours of course in the other towns. That the false priests were executing their prisoners by feeding them to their creatures. In some towns the temple soldiers had hunted them down for sport. At others they had just thrown them into the cages to await their fate at the hands – or claws – of the chimera. But this was the first time she'd seen a fighting pit.

In actual fact it was little more than a dozen foot deep hole in the ground. The priests had organised for people to be tossed in to the pit with whatever beasts were there waiting, and then watched them be torn apart. Perhaps they'd even waged coin on the outcome.

Of course she understood the logic of the killing. The demons had to be fed, and the chimera were their beasts. So when they killed, a part of the life of whatever they killed went to Tartarus. But it was barbaric. And worse, some of the bones she could see in that pit looked too small to be those of adults. These priests and their followers needed to die. It was just that she was not so cold blooded as some. She had a terrible feeling however that she needed to be.

It was for that reason that she tried to lead the campaign through her war masters. For her this was a hunt and she understood hunting. But it was also a war, and she knew little about war. She knew even less about running one. About the recruitment of soldiers, finding supplies, interrogating prisoners, training, maintaining communications or any of the other hundreds of things a war master needed to know. That side of things was all being run through the ancient fortress under the leadership of Commander Theris. Her task was to lead the fight, his to provide her with whatever she needed to win.

And the arrangement seemed to be working.

Today they had taken a major step towards eventual victory. Cut Valley Holding was the most strategically valuable target they'd captured. It was the gateway to Midland Heights, the only city in the Rainbow Mountains and its capitol. But more than that, Cut Valley Holding was the only passage through to the city. Through this town all the supplies in and out of Midland Heights ran.

It sat at the lower end of a ten league long rift valley with mountain ranges on both sides. Midland heights sat at the upper end. And there was no other route from the city of Midland Heights to the rest of the world save through Cut Valley Holding. So when they'd taken the town, they'd effectively cut the city off from the rest of the Rainbow Mountains. They'd begun the blockade. In time of course they would march up the rift valley and lay siege to the city. And then finally they would capture it. And when Midland Heights was theirs, the Rainbow Mountains would be theirs. The first of the five kingdoms would have fallen.

Of course that day was still a long way off, despite what the bards kept proclaiming to the people. It would be months before the blockade forced the people in the city into starvation and surrender. Before the war machines were built to take down the city walls. Before they had enough soldiers to launch the attack. But at least that day was coming. Always provided that the false temple didn't finally strike back.

That was one of the worries that kept her from sleep most nights. The worry about where they were and when they'd strike. Because she knew they had to be coming. They all did.

Theris had patrols out in the land hunting for them. Searching to the east and west and north for the first sign of an army heading their way. But thus far they'd found nothing and he seemed to think that was as it should be. It took time to raise an army. And more time when you then had to march them hundreds of leagues. Especially when you already had two of your armies busy invading other realms. And more so when it seemed that your forces everywhere else were stretched thin.

Theris seemed to think that that was why they were winning so easily. The false temple had stolen soldiers and beasts from every town and city in the five kingdoms to create his two armies attacking the dryads in Pariton and Inel Ison. They didn't have any spare troops. And so now they were busy trying to draw troops back from those two front lines, probably slowing their advance or stopping it completely, as they had to send them back to the Rainbow Mountains. He seemed to think they might still have as much as another month or two before they had to face the full fury of the false temple. And that for all that time they could simply continue emptying out the towns and villages of the enemy and building their own forces.

She hoped he was right.

“I have the counts High Priestess.”

A soldier came up to her and handed her a small scrap of parchment with some numbers on it. Why they did that she didn't know. But it had become the routine after every battle. She thanked him as she accepted the parchment from his hands, and then studied it, perhaps hoping for some wisdom in it. All there were though were numbers.

Five hundred and thirty enemy soldiers had been killed, six to seven hundred chimera, and fifty three priests. Against that they'd lost seventeen soldiers, thirty eight more had been injured and four griffins had been killed. A unicorn had also been wounded. Save for the size of the numbers it was fairly much the same as she had seen many times before. For the moment they were winning the war comfortably thanks to the allies the Goddess had sent them and having the advantage of numbers on their side. But that wouldn't continue forever.

Midland Heights would be different. As well as being a huge walled city with up to a hundred and fifty thousand people inside it, along with the heavens only knew how many soldiers and chimera, it was protected by a pair of Circle wizards. The first they would face.

The first, though he was reputed to be crazy she doubted would be easily overcome. Maynard the Irrepressible was said to be a powerful summoner. And the second Alenda Goldeneyes, was a wizard of fire and might well be much worse. Midland Heights would be the first true battle of the war. But if they were lucky and won through, it would be the last one before the Rainbow Mountains were free.

Before they got to Midland Heights however, there were still many more towns and villages out there that were occupied and which they would have to free first. They were mostly scattered and small but each one would bring them more soldiers and break the enemy's spirit a little more. In any event they would have the time to free a fair few more towns while they waited for the war machines to arrive. The huge trebuchets were slow to move along even good roads and there were a great many more needing to be built. So many more that Theris was talking about using the other forts they were reclaiming to help build them.

Still she decided, this had been a good day and there was no point in not letting the world know what they'd done. And letting the army know that the end of this part of the campaign was in sight.

“Let the war masters send word soldier, to start sending the war machines forward to us here. And tell the troops to fortify our position here as we wait for them. Send the wizards out to start preparing the land for attack from the city.” Though months away, Erislee thought that it would be good for morale to know that the first part of the campaign to reclaim Midland Heights was about to start. And they had to fortify.

The greatest danger they faced for the moment was that the commanders in Midland Heights would realise they were weak, leave the city and march down the rift valley with an army to meet them. But it was unlikely – so her war masters claimed. To leave the safety of their walls was a risk and not one to be taken before desperation took hold. And it was more of a risk when the enemy didn't know how many of them there were. The chances were that they'd send scouts first. Scouts that she intended would not return. The enemy didn't need to know that for the time he had numbers on his side.

“The blockade of Midland Heights begins today!”

Her words brought a smile to the soldier's face and he saluted her quickly before running off to pass on her instructions. By the time night fell she guessed the army would be in a very merry mood. And this was just the blockade. They hadn't even begun the siege.

But of course there could be no good news without bad. That was one lesson she had already learned during the opening months of the campaign. It was just a matter of waiting to find out what the bad news would be.

Which was why as she watched the scout running off, a huge smile all over his face as he hurried to give her orders, a frown appeared on her own. Deep in her marrow she knew there were tough times ahead.