Warlords Rising (35 page)

He entered the tent and found Danyal, Becca, and Nolan
sitting on the ground with a very rough map of the watchtower sketched onto a
large piece of parchment.

“—the division makes this more challenging,” Danyal was
saying only to cut himself off at Trev’nor’s entrance. “Warlord, please sit
with us. I have an idea of how to approach this.”

Trev’nor was extremely grateful to hear those words. He
immediately sat down between Becca and Nolan. “I am all ears, Commander.”

“I think we need to do a night attack.” Danyal gestured to
the open space between the camp and the watchtower with a grimace of
frustration. “There’s too much distance to cross with no cover. Our only chance
of getting to them without advertising it is in the dead of night.”

“Can’t argue there,” Becca agreed, nibbling on the edge of
her thumb. “If we go in at night, they won’t see us, we’ll have a chance of
getting to the hostages before they can be killed.”

“I think the attack should be three-fold,” Danyal continued
respectfully. “Have two mages split up, go for either of the hostages, with the
dragons dropping off an elite force to tackle the main gate. We have to time it
so the mages get there minutes before the attack on the gate.”

He thought he saw where Danyal was going with this. “Get the
hostages out of danger fast, then create a diversion at the main gate to keep
anyone from going after us while we get them to safety. That’s what you’re
planning.”

Danyal gave him a shark-like grin. “Precisely, Warlord.”

As plans went, this one wasn’t a bad one. Trev’nor had
thought of worse ideas. Even followed through on some of them. “One question.
Who goes for which group?”

“I leave that to you three to discuss. I am not familiar
enough with your abilities to know which one would be best suited to either
target.”

Trev’nor looked up to find both Nolan and Becca staring at
him with a disconcerting expression on their faces. Well, disconcerting for
him. He knew those looks. “Am I going to like this?”

“Probably not.” Nolan took in a deep breath before looking
him straight in the eyes. “The person that can subdue the most amount of
soldiers in the shortest amount of time is you.”

“Without structurally damaging everything in the area? Is
that what you mean?”

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

Trev’nor shrugged. “I can’t argue with you there. You and
Becca can do the same amount I can, but your fighting styles usually topple
buildings in the process. What are you thinking, Nol?”

“I’m thinking…that the slaves are only around the tower. I’m
thinking that if we can sneak just you in, we have a good chance of stopping
the soldiers before they can execute the magicians.”

It was not arrogance that made him agree. “Even if I can’t
get to everyone fast enough, it will still be better than trying any other
method of attack. But how are you planning to get me in?”

“This is the part that you’re not going to like.”

“A night drop?!” he squeaked. Realizing he’d gone into an
octave he hadn’t visited since puberty, he stopped and cleared his throat.
“Nolan. Are you insane?!”

“It’s a stone roof top,” Becca immediately argued. “You can
go right through it.”

“You are planning to drop a person that is already nervous
with heights several feet onto a
small, circular roof
.”

“Garth won’t drop you carelessly.”

“Garth isn’t going to drop me at all!”

Garth, of course, caught this whole conversation and curled
around the tent to stick his head inside. “Sounds fun.”

“It does not sound fun, you giant lizard!” Trev’nor jabbed a
stern finger in his direction. “We’re not doing this. No.”

Nolan went back to staring at the watchtower. “Only way
we’ll get in, Trev.”

“It can’t be.”

“Alright, if you feel that vehemently about it, go think. If
you can come up with a better plan, we’ll do that instead.”

Trev’nor stomped off, cursing them both, and thought long
and hard. But no matter how he studied the situation, or thought about the
things he had learned from Shad and Aletha, he couldn’t think of another
option. In fact, he harbored a suspicion that if Shad were here right now, he’d
be planning exactly the same thing. Only he’d likely make Garth go in with
Trev’nor.

There were many possible pitfalls with this plan, but the
one that Trev’nor was most nervous about was how fast he would have to subdue
the guards. The moment they realized he was there, they would react, and there
would be many lives lost. He would have to be almost superhuman quick to make
sure that no one died. Even if he was Shad’s student, he didn’t have that kind
of reflexes.

He made a full circle around the camp before coming back to
where they sat. All three looked at him expectantly.

“I’m not Shad,” he finally stated.

“We know that, Trev,” Nolan assured him.

“At least a few people are going to die, no matter how fast
I fight the guards off.”

“We know,” Becca assured him gently. “But no matter how we
look at it, sending you in like this is our best chance to keep the casualties
to a minimum. Nolan can handle the cages on the walls, he’s best equipped to do
that, and he can coordinate with the dragons to help him. I can go in with the
main force and blow the main gate apart so they can get in. It’s the only way
to do it.”

“Even if things go really wrong, we have to go in.” Nolan
spat the words out like they were rotten. “We don’t dare let him win this
stalemate. Things will be so much worse if we lose this battle.”

Trev’nor hated the plan, really and truly hated it, but
didn’t see a better option. “You’ll be ready to move in the moment I have them
safe?”

“The second you tell us to move, we’ll move,” Becca assured
him, raising a hand in a silent vow. “I’ll light up the sky as soon as you
people clear. We’ll win, Trev’nor.”

“I know we will. And we’ll execute that dastard the minute
we lay hands on him.”

“Only if you beat me to it. Or Ehsan. We’re both really mad
at him right now. I fully plan to fry him on sight.”

“And Ehsan?” Charmed by a particular inner vision, Trev’nor
grinned. “You think the warlord will be the first case of a man drowning in a
desert?”

“That would be a funny tombstone, wouldn’t it?” Nolan
grinned back, rocking a little on his haunches. “But really, I think Ehsan will
kill him on sight. He told me that he has friends that were sent this
direction.”

Trev’nor stomach turned over in a hard lurch. “Is that why
he reacted that way, earlier?”

“I think he’s pretty sure some of his friends were in that
lineup.”

Trev’nor was wrong, earlier. The situation could apparently
get worse. “Are we doing this tonight?”

“I see no reason to wait, do you? They saw us setting up
camp, so they think that we’re settling in for the night. It’s the perfect time
to set up an ambush.”

That was the answer he was afraid of. “Let’s get dinner. And
then I want a nap. We’ll wait for midnight before moving.”

“Fine by me.”

“I hate all of you.”

“We know you do, Trev,” Nolan soothed, and fortunately for
his sake, he didn’t sound amused or patronizing. Trev’nor would have strangled
him if he had.

“I’m going to have nightmares about this for weeks.”

Becca patted him on the leg, subtly making sure that he
could pop the straps free in a split second. “You’ll be fine. Garth won’t
miss.”

It was not Garth missing that Trev’nor was worried about.
Much. It was him having a panic attack mid-air while falling onto a dark
rooftop. He couldn’t even close his eyes and wait for it to be over as he
absolutely had to watch where he was going. “This is insane. I hate all of
you.”

“You’ve said that.” Becca patted Garth’s shoulder and stood
back. “He’s ready. Take him up.”

In the pitch darkness of the desert, he couldn’t see anyone
except the glowing eyes of the dragons. Garth craned his neck around to look at
him, and in those golden depths, there was vast patience and reassurance. “It
will be fine, fledgling.”

He didn’t believe that. Well, maybe ten percent of him was
convinced that things would somehow work out fine, but the other ninety was
equally convinced that this whole thing was a very bad idea. No one was
listening to him, though.

Garth took off before he could either complain or try to
talk people out of this plan. The takeoff was abrupt enough to snap his head
back, and he realized that ready for this or not, he had to focus.

There were lights on in the watchtower, of course, and large
braziers on top of the base wall, but other than that there wasn’t another
speck of light to be seen. In all likelihood, the moon and stars out here were
probably brilliant at this time of night. But Becca’s storm system still
hovered overhead, ready for her use, and it blocked the heavens completely.
This was good for Trev’nor and Garth as it meant they had total darkness to fly
in.

Garth started out far away from Alred, gaining height and
speed. Then, when he felt he had gained enough of both, he turned and headed
for the watchtower. He came in silently, not once flapping his wings, but
gliding the whole distance. It made his approach completely soundless but also
slowed his descent enough that he had time to drop his rider.

The watchtower was so brightly lit that Trev’nor had no
trouble marking distance and angle. He kicked free of his saddle, hovering just
on top of it, although he had a death’s grip on the pommel. When they got low
enough, Garth did a half-twist in air, and Trev’nor leapt free in almost the
exact same moment. Using every skill that Shad and Aletha had ever taught him,
he rolled into a landing on top of the roof and fetched up a little hard
against the side. Bruised, winded, but his adrenaline was pumping so hard that
he barely noticed.

How in the world had they pulled that off?!

It took two seconds for the dazed amazement to wear down
enough for Trev’nor to realize he had to move. Now. Shaking his head, he eyed
the stone under his feet, feeling the contents of the watchtower as only an
Earth Mage could. The immediate level below his feet wasn’t very large, perhaps
eight feet circumference. The level under it was larger, much larger, likely
somewhere around thirty feet circumference and it had a wide ledge to it that
held the metal cages. All of the levels below it were identical in size and
shape.

He couldn’t really feel non-magical people well, but in an
enclosed area like this made of stone, he could feel their vibrations and
weight, and that told him where people were. Four below. Sixteen below that,
crowded against each other, although none were readily standing, but sitting,
it looked like.

No matter what Nolan said, he couldn’t defeat sixteen people
at once. Not in a round place like this, where he didn’t have line of sight on
anyone. Trev’nor’s mind coldly analyzed the odds, found the probability of him
being able to save everyone very low, and knew that he would have to rely on
Garth to make up the difference. His dragon would be attacking from the
outside, reaching for anyone near the cages on the ledge. He could only do his
best and hope that things really did turn out alright, as Garth had said they
would.

Closing his eyes, he dropped through the ceiling.

The first four men didn’t know what hit them. He used the
bon’a’lon at his side as much as he used earth to fight with, and they were
down before they could really give him much opposition. Only one of them
managed to cry out, but just that one was enough to doom his element of
surprise. Trev’nor swore, dropped through the floor again to the next level,
and rolled as he landed. Muscles straining, he put every ounce of speed he
could into his attacks, taking four men out at once, then ran around the
outside of the building, going around the curve enough to see the next set of
archers on standby.

Only they weren’t on standby anymore.

Trev’nor’s heart sank as he heard the twang of several bows
snapping, the sounds of arrows whistling, and the cries of people in pain. Not
fast enough, not fast enough, notfastenough. Garth roared out in challenge as
he flew, coming in tightly around the tower before latching onto it and using
his claws to gain a purchase in the stone. The tower shook under the impact,
making people stumble and cry out in alarm. The dragon snapped at opponents,
his long neck reaching people that thought they were out of reach.

Trev’nor took advantage of his partner’s arrival and spun on
his toes, shot out earth in every direction, making people duck and cover,
which bought him another few seconds, but even as he fought, he knew it was
worlds too late for some.

One soldier took advantage of his preoccupation with two
other opponents to get a strike in. Even though Trev’nor knew that the man was
coming up on his blindside, he couldn’t disengage and turn fast enough. All he
could do was turn sideways, mitigating the amount of target he was offering,
and grit his teeth for the inevitable. The man took a swing, cutting a long
gash along his shoulders and back, leaving him gasping as white hot pain shot
down his spine.

Snarling, Garth reached in with a claw and grabbed the man.
Trev’nor didn’t bother to track what happened to him after that as the man
wouldn’t survive. Dragons had no mercy when protecting their own.

Clamping his teeth, he fought back the pain even as he battled
the last ones standing. It took five precious minutes to take all of the
archers in the tower down. Without Garth, it might have taken longer. Trev’nor
stood over the last body and breathed shakily, something wet streaming over his
cheeks. Had someone gotten a lucky head strike in? Was he bleeding? He lifted
his hand to his face to investigate, but his fingers didn’t come away with
blood. Tears.

“Calling Nolan,” Garth informed him in a tone that brooked
no disagreement.

His shoulders must look pretty bad to get that reaction from
his dragon. “I’m alright for a few minutes, make sure he’s not in a serious
situation first.”

The dragon let out a huff that said the serious situation,
if there was one, could wait.

“Tell Becca and Commander Danyal to start the attack at main
gate. I’m sorry,” Trev’nor whispered to the cages still sitting on the edge of
the tower. “I’m so sorry. I fought as fast as I could.”

From the cage outside the wall, there was a hiccupping sob.

Trev’nor dove for the open doorway, and he demanded, “Is
someone alive down there?” Wait, shrieking hinges, he’d said that in Chahirese.
He opened his mouth to repeat it again in Khobuntish.

“Help me!” a thin voice cried out tentatively.

Alright, so, just a voice speaking got a response. Trev’nor
switched mental tracks to Khobuntish and assured the child (it had to be with
that voice), “I will, hold on.” Focusing on several cages at once, he used the
stone of the tower to lift them up and bring them gently into the watchtower
doorways. As he did this, he snatched the mirror broach up to his mouth.
“Nolan. Hurry, I have wounded people.”

“
How many? Any enemies left?”

“I don’t know and no. Get up here NOW.”

“I’m already coming.”

Garth must have been persuasive. That was good. Trev’nor
could slap a field dressing on wounds but his healing ability didn’t even compare
to Nolan’s. The Life Mage was the only chance some of these people had of
surviving this. Using the training that had been ground into his head, he
jerked open the cage doors and started evaluating people. Anyone dead he left
in place, anyone wounded, he brought carefully out and put them in the center
of the tower. Miraculously, there were a few that had not a scratch on them. As
Trev’nor found them, he realized they were all children, all shielded
underneath an adult’s bodies.

Parents shielding their children.

That brought new tears to his eyes but he blinked them away
and kept going. He had to get the most critically wounded into the same area,
that way Nolan could work his magic on multiple people at once. He had seen his
friend heal two people at the same time, hopefully he could do so here.

He got five cages open and people sorted before he heard
Nolan land on the balcony. “Trev, I’m here, what do we have?”

“Center has the wounded,” he responded, his focus not
wavering. “The ones on the right side are the most critical.”

“Got it.” Nolan moved a little too fast for a human being,
and Trev’nor suspected he’d borrowed the speed of a predator cat for a moment.
He did that sometimes.

Outside the tower, lightning started flashing, and the main
gates burst into splinters. Becca and Danyal were leading the attack inside,
eh? Trev’nor felt viciously glad of that. Trexler had been bad, but this place
nearly reeked of evil.

 There were, to his mental anguish, exactly sixteen cages.
Each one held anywhere between four to five people, sixty-nine in total. Out of
that sixty-nine, twenty-three were children and there wasn’t a scratch on any
of them, although of course they were all crying and mourning the loss of at
least one parent. They huddled inside the tower, watching Nolan work with wide
eyes. Having two dragons hovering outside the tower, clinging to it like giant
monkeys, might have something to do with their reactions.

Trev’nor thought of trying to comfort them but felt wholly
inadequate of the task. Instead, he turned to Nolan. “What can I do to help?”

“That person and that person, put pressure on their wounds,
they’re bleeding out too fast.” Nolan jerked his chin to indicate two people
behind him.

He promptly did as instructed.

“And wipe that look of guilt off your face, you did the best
anyone could do in this situation. How badly are you hurt?”

He ignored the question. “If Shad had been here, we wouldn’t
have lost this many people,” Trev’nor retorted bitterly.

“Not even Shad can defeat…how many people were up here?”

“Twenty-something.”

“You and Garth had to defeat twenty-something people in a
minute flat,” Nolan chided, exasperated but gentle, “there’s no way you can do
that with such poor visuals up here.”

Trev’nor pressed bloodied hands against the wounds and felt
anything but victorious.

That must have been obvious to Nolan as he said softly, “I
wish we could have given you more help.”

“There were thirty-six cages on the wall, according to
Llona.” Trev’nor lifted his head enough to glance at Nolan, seeing the
confirmation on his friend’s face. “I had 16. Of course you needed Ehsan, Azin
and the other dragons to help there instead of here. They had more to rescue
all at once.” Even as he said the words, he couldn’t help but wish that he’d
had more help anyway. His head understood the logistics. It was his heart that
was in denial.

There was no argument from his friend. Perhaps he didn’t know
what to say. Instead, Nolan bumped into him. “Move. Help the ones I healed up
and out of the way so I have more room to work.”

For the next several minutes, Trev’nor just did as ordered.
It was easier that way, as he didn’t have to think, just obey. He didn’t want
to, but his mind automatically kept a tally as they worked, and even with
Nolan’s magic they couldn’t save everyone fast enough. Out of the sixty-nine,
they lost twenty-two. To some, that might seem a good number, as it suggested
he had almost beaten some very poor odds. But he didn’t feel that way about it
at all. 

Finally, there was no pressing emergency to demand his
attention. No one hardly needed his help outside, as five mages and an army
could easily handle this small town. Nolan found a moment to heal his shoulders
so that the pain left him, although it left behind a bloody and ruined shirt.
Trev’nor flopped down and sat there with bloodied hands in his lap, shoulders
hunched in, for the longest time. It took a moment until he realized that a
woman was sitting next to him. Eyes drawn up, he took in the gaping hole in her
shirt, blood around the edges, and realized that this was one of the mothers
shot shielding a child. One of the people that Nolan had been able to save.