War of Wizards (19 page)

“Once we start, we can’t control it,” he continued. “Whatever magic we draw from the pain and suffering of others is sure to have unintended effects. For all we know, our torture is
already
strengthening the wights, enabling them to stay together as a coherent army, maybe even keeping them from the grasp of the Harvester. I don’t think so—I think there is a material difference between pain given willingly and pain coerced, inflicted on the unwilling.”

“I won’t be silent any longer,” Chantmer said. “Maybe there is some truth in what the boy says. It is not idle speculation, I will grant him that. But let me ask you. What choice do we have? What choice do any of us have?”

“We can choose not to kill our own people,” Kallia said.

“You don’t think your husband is making these decisions each and every day? Every time he sends men into battle, he knows some of them may die.”

“Yes, they may die,” she said. “War is uncertain. But Whelan is hoping for a great victory at little cost, to sell the lives of his men as dearly as possible.”

“Yes, precisely. He sends a hundred men to hold a ridge line, knowing they will die to the last man, but knowing that sacrificing them will preserve a thousand lives in turn. And they are not willing victims. Most, no doubt, would prefer to be anywhere but facing the enemy’s sword.”

Kallia fell silent. Darik looked at her, studying the anguish on her face. She looked to Daniel. “Is this what your brother thinks when he leads men into battle? Tell me, you understand.”

Daniel looked uncomfortable. “It is no easy thing to send men to their death. Sometimes, the situation is more desperate than others. Yes, what Chantmer says may be true.”

“It
is
true, you know it is,” Chantmer pressed. “Spill the blood of one to save ten. Spill the blood of ten thousand to save a kingdom. And Khalifa, do you need Daniel’s opinion on the matter? Didn’t you launch a bloody revolt against the dark wizard yourself? Didn’t you make these same decisions?”

“I did,” she said in a low voice, with a glance at the grand vizier. “Terrible decisions.”

“What are the souls of this city worth?” Chantmer continued, and now they seemed helpless to resist his arguments. “They are worth the lives of a few criminals, certainly. Former slaves, the elderly, the wounded in battle, and others who cannot otherwise contribute to the defense of the city—they will die anyway if we don’t use their strength.” Chantmer waved his hand at Darik. “What he says is true. There is a terrible risk in stepping down this path. But if we don’t, an army of wights will pour into the city this very night. Balsalom will be destroyed by morning.”

“There has to be another way,” Darik said. “I can’t believe our only choice is to use the dark wizard’s own tactics.”

“There is no other way,” Chantmer said triumphantly. “We must have pain, and it must be drawn from those who do not suffer willingly.”

“What kind of pain?” Kallia asked.

“It doesn’t matter. Physical agony, so long as it is extracted from the unwilling, and so long as it is terrible and frightening to behold. The kind that would make the weak-hearted run from the room because it is too awful to behold. So unless you know some other way to get that—”

“I do know a way,” she interrupted, her voice soft, but penetrating.

Everyone looked at her, waiting. Even Chantmer wore an expectant look, as if hearing the serious note to her voice.

Kallia put a hand to her belly. “Would the suffering of their queen be a worthy defense for the people of Balsalom?”

Chapter Seventeen

For two days, Daria and her army of griffin riders had been following a trail of destruction through the khalifates. She had been flying hard toward Veyre, trying to overtake the dragon before it reached King Whelan’s army and devastated it. Twice, they caught small packs of dragon wasps and their riders and destroyed them. Another time, they came upon the burning wreckage of a village; Daria wanted to land and question the survivors, but her fellow riders balked at coming down among the flatlanders, so she ordered them on.

But shortly, they were flying over a scorched terrain of rolling hills and farmsteads, villages and larger towns, all burned and burning. Bodies lay everywhere, so fresh the vultures and crows had not yet set into them. A farmhouse sent fire rolling into the sky, and when Daria drifted south toward the Tothian Way, she saw a long, burning train of wagons, with dead mules and camels, and slaughtered men wearing the cloaks and tunics of Balsalom. A massive supply caravan, destroyed before it could reach Whelan’s army.

Daria was surprised that the dragon would expend its carefully stoked fires this far from the main battle, but could think of nothing else that would cause such widespread devastation. Maybe it had truly turned rogue, uncontrolled by any man or wizard.

The daylight was short this late in the year, and as dusk crept over the land she searched for a place to spend the night. Safer not to press on in the dark, when they were more vulnerable to ambush. They should reach Veyre in the morning, and if they couldn’t catch the dragon first, they would at least be close behind. They had been camping north of the Tothian Way, and she decided to make a change to make them harder to find. Daria signaled for the others to follow her south. A few minutes later, they reached the Tothian Way.

The great highway was glowing. From high above, it looked like an enormous bluish-white snake slithering east in a single, pulsing movement. Her mother and her Uncle Jhon came alongside and pointed down. Daria nodded to show that she saw and understood. She spoke in gestures.

Lead them forward. I’m going down to look.
 

Daria tugged the tether before her mother could argue, and sent Talon into a dive. He banked hard and pulled up thirty feet above the ground. Daria raced over the top of the glowing mass.

Wights. An army of them. She had seen them plundering Ter and turning south to threaten Balsalom. Daria had warned the khalifa, and when the flock flew across the Desolation a few days later, Daria had seen Balsalom surrounded and besieged by the ghostly army. This must be another army entirely. There were thousands of them: men, horses, even giants and mammoths. The gathering darkness seemed to give speed to their silently marching feet and hooves, and a great sigh passed through their lips as the sun disappeared behind the western horizon.

Daria had only a rough approximation of her distance from Veyre, but she couldn’t be far. These wights would reach Whelan’s forces before morning. Did the king know? Was he bracing himself already, or would he be attacked from behind with no warning? She had to tell him.

Daria climbed higher in the sky and swung around to find Palina and Jhon. They had pulled the rest of the army away from the wights, and flew parallel to the Tothian Way perhaps a half mile south of the road. This was too complicated to explain by hand signals, so Daria pulled in next to her mother. Palina’s white griffin squawked nervously to have the larger golden griffin flying so close.

Daria cupped her hand to her mouth. “I’m going east, to warn Whelan. Take the flock and find shelter for the night. In the morning—”

“Let us go with you.”

“No. The flock is exhausted. They need to rest before they face the dragon.”

“So do you.”

“Talon is stronger. He can fly all night if need be.”

Palina said something else, but the wind swept away her words. Daria shouted for her to repeat herself.

“I said, you can’t face the dragon alone.”

“I won’t. I’m going to warn the king, that’s all. I’ll find a place to rest. We’ll meet over the battlefield tomorrow.”

“It’s not safe,” Palina said.

Jhon drew close from the other side and shouted across Daria. “Let her go. She knows what she’s doing.”

Daria gestured to her mother.
I’m going alone. Do not follow.
 

She dug her knees into Talon’s haunches. “Ska!”

The golden griffin leaped ahead with a fresh burst of speed. After a few seconds, Daria glanced over her shoulder and was relieved to see her mother and uncle taking the rest of the flock south as ordered. In the darkness, they were shortly out of sight.

The long, glowing snake of wights stretched another mile along the road before it ended. Daria was relieved to be clear of them, and eased up on Talon. After so many hours flying, he didn’t have the strength to sprint the last however-many miles to Whelan’s camp. She should arrive in plenty of time to give warning.

A half mile further along the road, Daria overtook a small cluster of some dozen riders on horses. She saw at once they weren’t wights, and guessed they must be scouts for Whelan’s army who had detected the enemy force and were galloping back to give warning. They were heavily armored for scouts, though, and as she dipped lower to take a closer look, she saw that they were pursuing a solitary figure on horseback.

It was too dark now to pick out the rider’s features, even with Daria’s excellent eyesight, but his horse was faltering. It was stumbling along, slowing in spite of the rider’s desperate attempts to keep it moving ahead of the enemy that pursued them relentlessly down the road.  

Daria came in for a closer look as she overtook the fleeing rider, torn between wanting to help and needing to race ahead to warn King Whelan. She couldn’t stop, she decided reluctantly as she passed. There was too much at stake, and even from the sky, she’d be hard pressed to defeat a dozen heavily armored men.

The rider was small, not a man at all, but a boy. Poor child, he must have survived an attack on his village and fled for his life, only to be spotted by outriders. They would shortly catch him and no doubt put him to the sword.

The rider spotted Daria passing and screamed. “Help! Please!”

It was a girl’s voice.

Daria was two hundred yards past before she pulled up on the tether. Talon screamed, wanting to keep flying, perhaps disturbed by the smell of so many horses and men.

The pack of riders had drawn within thirty yards of the girl. The lead men drew swords. In a few moments, they would be on top of her. The girl drew a crossbow. The sight reminded Daria of the battle at Sleptstock. Her heart thumped. She knew that figure.

Daria brought Talon higher as she wheeled around. She dove in at an angle and was on top of the lead riders before they spotted the dark shape swooping in. Talon slammed into the front rider and knocked him from the saddle. As the griffin passed, he grabbed another man with his talons and tore him from his mount. When they were forty feet off the ground, Daria ordered Talon to release. The man fell to the ground and slammed into the road. The other riders faltered momentarily, but quickly resumed their pursuit.

Meanwhile, to Daria’s disbelief, the rider Talon had hurled to the ground now climbed to his feet and grabbed for his horse’s reins as the skittish animal pranced and snorted. How was that possible? The fall should have killed him.

They were ravagers, that was why, undead knights riding along the flanks of the army of wights to keep them flowing east toward the battle. And now, they were about to kill the girl, and maybe Daria too, if she wasn’t careful.

Daria circled for another attack. This time, the ravagers had their swords at the ready as she came in, and some of them leaped from their saddles to get at Talon. If Daria had flown low a second time, they’d have opened the griffin’s belly. But she pulled up at the last moment and raced by just out of their reach.

Her aim was to slow the ravagers long enough to let the girl escape. Indeed, for a moment, the girl pulled ahead. Daria came back in for another attack. This time, she looped her foot in the tether and leaned over until she was upside down beneath Talon. Her blade clanged against a ravager’s sword. She twisted away from another thrust that would have pierced her throat.

Ahead, the girl and her horse darted from the road and into a clump of scrubby trees. She picked her way along, perhaps hoping that the ravagers would keep their attention on the griffin and its rider and miss her flight from the road. But the enemy spotted her, and without sound or signal, left the road to pursue.

The girl turned in the saddle and fired her crossbow. The bolt sank in the throat of the lead ravager. It was a perfect shot, considering the distance, the terrible light, and the terror any reasonable person would feel in her position. But the ravager tore out the bolt, let out an inarticulate cry of rage, and charged at her.

Now that the girl was among the trees, Daria had a hard time getting down to the battle. The branches would snag Talon if she flew too low. She swooped in the best she could, harrying the enemies when they galloped into a clearing. Soon, they entered the woods again. Daria climbed higher and sheathed her sword. The girl broke into the open, and two ravagers closed on her from either side. Daria and Talon dove again. This time, their target was the girl.

Talon seized her in his claws. He dragged her off the horse, and as they climbed higher, the girl screamed from the eagle-like talons piercing her cloak. The griffin bent his head as if to tear at her with his beak. He didn’t understand.

“No!” Daria cried. She swung around to Talon’s underbelly, wrestling with his head to keep him from ripping the girl apart.

Daria couldn’t reach her without untethering herself, so she stretched and unhooked the loop from around her ankle. Soon, she was completely detached, the end of the tether in her hand, and climbing down to Talon’s legs where he held the girl. They flew a hundred feet above the ground in the night sky and were still climbing.

Daria looped the tether around the girl’s wrist. The girl was still struggling in the talons, and Daria didn’t get her tied off a moment too soon. Talon released his hold to let her fall, exactly as he’d been trained. The girl tumbled away with a cry. The tether snapped tight when she reached the end. The griffin screamed at the unexpected weight still pulling down on him.

The girl didn’t panic, but snatched the tether and held on with both hands. Daria grabbed a handful of feathers and swung herself back up onto Talon’s back. She secured herself, then hauled the girl up inch by inch. The girl was slight of build, but it was no easy thing to lift her around the beating wings, with the wind buffeting Daria’s face.