The Eighth Warden Bk. 03 Ch. 33-34

Rusol scrambled for it, and as he laid his hands on the hilt, something within the enchanted sword spoke to him. Without quite understanding how he was doing it, he pushed fire magic into the weapon. The blade burst alight, flames flickering along the edges.

Snarling, he struck again, avoiding Leonis's parry but hitting his aura of protection. It was like trying to stab through dozens of layers of cloth, but the aura flickered wildly when the sword of fire hit it.

He thrust a third time. The flickering was lighter now, and didn't last as long. Growling deep in his throat, he raised his weapon once more just as Kolvi's next bolt knocked the warhammer out of Leonis's hand.

"No!" the warden wailed. "Pallisur promised!"

Rusol rammed the flaming blade through the last of the protective aura and into Leonis's face. The tip scraped against the man's cheekbone, burning the flesh, before sliding into his eye. Leonis's body jerked back and then slumped over, his lower half still encased in stone. The flames on the sword slowly died out.

Breathing heavily, Rusol stepped back to find Sir Barat staring at him in shock, surrounded by the bodies of two other knights and three servants who appeared to have been struck down by fire and wild lightning strikes. How long had they been there? Rusol had never noticed them entering the room.

"Obey me!" he shouted. There wasn't time for finesse—he needed the compulsion spell to take effect quickly. "Guard the doors! Don't let anyone in! If they ask, tell them that the foreigners tried to kill us."

Barat hit his clenched fist to his chest in a salute and went to do his master's bidding, while Rusol turned to survey the rest of the dining hall. All of Leonis's men were down, not moving. There were three with Magnus's arrows sticking from their bodies, plus the remains of several more arrows that had shattered against protective spells or armor. Apparently Magnus had been helping more than it had appeared at the time.

The other priests were dead from lightning or fire, plus the one buried beneath the stone floor and the one Rodulf had managed to kill. Rusol rushed over to the young wizard, finding him still breathing but bleeding from a wound to his temple.

"Get down here!" Rusol called out to Magnus and Kolvi, and they disappeared from the musicians' balcony, heading to the stairs that led down to the dining hall. While they were on the way, Rusol checked on Jasper, but it was too late for the old man. He was already dead.

Magnus strode into the room, a broad smile on his face. "You've done well, my friend," he said. "The Lady will be pleased. A great victory against Pallisur!"

"A victory against the wardens," Rusol snapped. "Hurry, Rodulf needs healing."

A brief flash of anger crossed Magnus's face, but then it was gone and he crouched down near the boy.

As the excitement of the battle wore off, Rusol's knees went weak. He found a fallen chair near the remnants of the table, and set it right side up so he could take a seat.

Kolvi had stopped near Leonis's body. "Do you think he was really Torwin Larse?" she asked, staring down at it.

"Does it matter?" Rusol said.

"If it was truly him, he's been hunting the elderfolk for centuries. Our own people, Rusol. It wasn't enough for him to slaughter us here in Larso? He had to follow after the clans he chased to the north to continue his work?" She spit on the body. "He was an evil man."

Rusol was descended from the elderfolk himself, but he didn't have the same connection to them that Kolvi did. She'd grown up among them, one of the clans that had remained hidden within Larso. Still, he supposed she and Magnus were right. There was more than one reason to have killed Leonis.

And he'd done it. He'd managed to kill an experienced warden and his bondmates. He hadn't even needed the poison. Rusol started laughing, then found he couldn't stop. He laughed so loud that even Sir Barat poked his head back in through the door to see what was happening. Hiccups set in, and Rusol's stomach began to ache, but he still couldn't stop laughing.

Magnus laid a hand on his back and the pressure eased. "A warrior never knows how battle will affect them until it happens. Don't worry about how you react after the fight is over."

Rusol drew in a long breath, trying to recover from his hysterics. Perhaps Magnus's words were meant to sound kind, but Rusol was supposed to be the one in charge. It was time to remind them of that.

"This was too easy," he said. "I don't think all of the priests were Leonis's bondmates. He might have left some behind in Blue Vale. Let's get his vambraces off and check his runes." Judging by the First's runes, if a bondmate died before a warden, it would leave behind a permanent scar. Even if the other runes had disappeared when Leonis died, it might still help them determine how many of the dead priests the man had bonded. Or maybe not—a dead rune could just as easily have belonged to a bondmate who'd died long ago. But some information was better than none, and Rusol needed to know if there would be any further threat coming from Blue Vale.

In the meantime, it would take days to clean up this mess. It would be easy to influence the knights and priests to believe the battle had been justified, but much harder to convince the entire tower that no magic had been involved. To do so, Rusol would need to use his demonic magic on a scale he'd never attempted before. It was time to try the new type of compulsion he and Magnus had been experimenting with, intended to create servants as obedient as his red-eyed hunters, while still allowing them to retain their human intelligence.

Then, he needed to return to Telfort and order Yassi to double her efforts to find mages for him to bond. He'd gotten lucky this time. Leonis and his men were used to fighting physically, depending on their divine defenses to protect them from magic—but those defenses could only protect against so much at once. Despite being a warden, Leonis had recruited only priests, rather than finding those who could have made up for his own weaknesses.

Rusol wouldn't make the same mistake. This time, he wouldn't bond the first random mage Yassi found, like Jasper. This time, he'd look for ones who could fight. Perhaps it was time to look outside Larso for his recruiting, maybe south to Matagor. There were wizards there who trained in the art of war.

There was a lot to do, but now he was certain he could do it—as long as the shadow creature didn't ask for any payment for its help.

###

Chapter 34

The battle was over, but Katrin and Shavala hadn't made an appearance yet. As soon as Corec could get away, he went looking for them, heading into the building where they'd been positioned, taking the stairs as quickly as he could in his armor. Reaching the top, he found Marco sitting alone on the floor with his head in his hands.

"Where are they?" Corec barked. Had something happened?

"Katrin's helping Shavala back to the camp. She got hurt during the fighting."

"Hurt how?"

"I don't know. She said she's fine, and that Katrin's worrying about nothing."

Corec let himself relax. It couldn't have been serious, then. "Where's Nedley?" he asked in a calmer tone.

"He went with them."

"What's wrong with you?"

Marco's eyes met his. "Are you serious? We could have all died today! I work for a trading company, not a bloody army! What the hell is going on?"

Corec couldn't blame him for his reaction. The mercenaries had been more capable than Corec had expected, and the rest of their opponents had been completely unwilling to surrender or flee. He'd underestimated the true scale of the battle, and only the arrival of the Travelers had saved the day.

"Hopefully we'll find out soon," he said. "Boktar and Treya are looking for any wounded that we might be able to save. We should have some prisoners." And, with any luck, perhaps the Travelers had been successful too. If they'd managed to catch the Seeker, he was likely to know more than the mercenaries did. The priests wouldn't be an option—they were both dead.

Marco grunted but didn't say anything.

"I need to go back down and help. Can you get back to camp on your own?" They'd positioned the battle several blocks east of the structure where they'd set up their camp.

Marco sighed. "Yes," he said, getting to his feet.

Corec nodded and left him to it, returning outside to find Treya checking on Bobo again. The other man was still sprawled out, unconscious, in the cross street.

"How is he?" Corec asked.

"I still don't see any major injuries," Treya said. "He's just asleep. Razai insists it's drain shock."

"What? He's not a mage."

"She says he's a priest." Treya hesitated. "Or, at least, that he was using divine magic."

Before Corec could respond, Nedley came jogging up. "I found the carts and their packs," he said. "They left them in the plaza."

Corec grimaced. "Ned, some of the mercenaries escaped. What would have happened if you'd run into them? I thought you were with Katrin."

"I was careful!" the boy insisted. "Katrin didn't need me, but on my way back here, I saw some of them getting away, so I followed them. They grabbed their packs and some things out of the carts, and then went east. They didn't see me."

Well, Corec had wanted Nedley to start taking more initiative. And regardless of the boy's questionable judgement, the information was useful. "How many?"

"Three."

"I'm sure more than that got away. You didn't see any others?"

"No."

"That must have been the last group, then," Corec said. "Or maybe some of them forgot to stop and grab their things. They'll have a rough trip back to civilization if they didn't take any food. We'll need to watch and make sure they don't try to sneak back here."

Sarette would know more once she returned. She'd gone up the mountain slope for a better view, to count how many mercenaries were fleeing and track which direction they were headed.

Just then, Josip returned from checking on the wagon drivers. "That woman from the ruins was there," he said. "I thought she was going to take my head off. Couldn't understand a word she was saying. Looks like a group of mercenaries tried to head her way and she dealt with them."

"Well, that's something, I suppose," Corec said. Ariadne had done as he'd asked after all. "The drivers are safe?"

"Seemed to be, but I don't know what I'm going to tell their fathers. The boys are all excited—I guess they watched the woman fight—but something scared them enough to keep them hiding in the building, at least."

Corec sighed. "I should have figured out a way to get them home. At least they're alive."

Leena joined the little group then, but before she could speak, there was a shout from the far end of the block.

"Hey!" Boktar called out. "I've got another live one here!" He'd been checking through the bodies.

Treya looked worried. "I'm about to pass out. I don't think I can do much more healing."

"Then stick bandages on them and see if they make it until morning," Corec said. "Focus on the ones who have a chance, and check on Shavala as soon as you can. She might have been hurt, but it doesn't sound serious." It was standard battlefield triage—help the ones you could help, and help your own people first.

She nodded. "I wish Bobo was awake. He's better at this sort of thing." She headed in Boktar's direction.

Leena got Corec's attention then. "We captured the Seeker," she said.

He blew out his breath. "That's a relief. I'm not sure any of the others we've found will know anything. Is he talking?"

"Not yet, but we were going to try again. Do you want to be there?"

"Yes, but ..." he gazed around the battlefield. "Josip, Nedley, we need to start getting these bodies farther away from our camp. Help Boktar look for live ones, but don't get too close to any buildings until he checks to make sure no one's hiding in them. Drag the dead ones as far as you can manage. Take them to the plaza if you can, and bring the carts and packs back here. Belt pouches, too."

"What about the rest?" Josip asked. "Armor, weapons?"

"Leave the weapons where they are; I'll look them over later. If the armor's heavy, you might as well take it off before you try and drag the fellow. See if you can get Sarette and Razai to help you. Sarette's looking for high ground to watch the mercenaries who got away. I'm not sure about Razai. She was here earlier." He tried searching for Razai through the warden bond, then remembered her bond was no longer active.

The guide shrugged. "I haven't seen her either. We can get the mules and some rope, though. That'll be easier than dragging the bodies ourselves."

"Oh, right. That makes sense. I'll join you as soon as I can." Corec turned to Leena. "Let's go find Ellerie and then see what your Seeker has to say."

#

Leena introduced Corec and Ellerie to her Uncle Rohav and to Pavan, the younger Traveler who'd helped catch the Seeker. The rest of her people were gone. Those with enough strength remaining had teleported the others back to Sanvar.

"Thank you for coming," Corec said. "Without your help, I don't think we could have succeeded."

Rohav stared at him expressionlessly. "We didn't come here to help you, northerner. We came because these men, or others like them, slaughtered hundreds of our people." Then he sighed. "But for your aid, you have our gratitude."

"And the gratitude of all the Zidari people," Pavan added.

Corec nodded, then glanced down at the prisoner, who was lying on his side, still tied up. "Have you learned anything?"

"The traitor refuses even to tell us his name or what camp he's from," Pavan said. They'd checked the man's tattoos before Leena had fetched Corec and Ellerie, but the ones to identify his camp and family had been removed, scarred and abraded enough to leave only indistinct smudges.

Ellerie drew her rapier and rested the tip against the Seeker's throat. "What if, for every question he answers, he gets to live a little longer? If he stops answering questions, he dies."

The prisoner swallowed, and his eyes darted back and forth between those standing over him, but he didn't speak. Ellerie pressed down just enough to draw blood.

"If he's dead, he won't be able to talk," Corec pointed out. "We can find a place to lock him up inside the ruins. He'll have plenty of time to change his mind. There's nothing else to do down there."

Leena wasn't sure whether Corec was playing along with Ellerie's bluff, or if he didn't realize it was a bluff. Was it a bluff? Leena had grown closer to the elven woman, but she didn't actually know that much about her. They spoke frequently, but they'd always kept their conversations from becoming too personal.

"That won't be necessary," Rohav said. "We'll take him back to Sanvar. The empress's palace has warded cells. He won't be able to get out, and no Traveler will be able to get in. No Seer or Seeker will ever be able to find him. In the meantime, our own Seekers can track down his family and friends. I'm sure they'll be interested to know he's responsible for murdering so many of our own people. They'll probably be willing to tell us what else he's been up to."

"No, wait!" the man said, his eyes going wide. "I'll tell you anything you want! Just don't tell my family what I did!"

Ellerie pulled her sword away from his neck.

Rohav glanced around at the others, then back down at the prisoner. "Then who are you?" he asked.

"Davir of the Parsha camp, but I grew up in Sebin Township," the Seeker replied in Zidari. Sebin was a rural region in western Sanvar.

"Trade tongue," Pavan said sharply, "so our new friends can understand you."

The prisoner repeated his statement in the trade language.

"Who are the people that attacked us?" Corec asked.

"You attacked us!"

"Don't be stupid!" Ellerie snapped. "We knew you were trying to kill Leena before you ever got here."

The man's eyes darted to Leena, but he didn't speak.

Rohav said, "If you lie, the deal's off. Shall I head back to Sanvar now and look for your family?"

"Wait! I'll tell the truth, but you have to protect me! They'll kill me if they know I told you!"

"That's not something you need to worry about. If the empress allows you to live, no one will ever find you."

Davir swallowed, and screwed his eyes tightly closed. "They're followers of the Snake."

Rohav and Pavan exchanged confused glances. "Who?" Pavan asked.

"It's one of the countryside sects, but bigger than most," the man said, opening his eyes again.

That made sense—there were always little religions springing up outside the cities. The empress had functionaries dedicated to tracking them to make sure they weren't up to any mischief.

Pavan seemed to realize that too. When he spoke next, his voice was cold. "If there's a cult that worships a snake, why didn't anyone in Sanvara City tell us that when we found those knives?"

He'd been talking to Rohav, but it was Davir who answered. "Their wizards and priests have warded all their members. No one can find them."

Rohav shook his head. "That would stop us. It wouldn't stop her Imperial Majesty's government. Not for a cult that's large enough to have wizards working for them. Either our questions didn't make their way to the right people, or ..." He left the obvious unsaid. If someone in the government was a member of the sect, he or she could have made sure the Zidari didn't get the answers they'd sought.

"Where did the priests come from?" Corec asked Davir. "Which god did they follow?"

"They said they followed the Snake. Their people believe there were four old gods, not three."

Corec snorted. "Even if there were, the old gods don't have priests."

"I only know what they told me."

Rohav's voice cut through the conversation. "Why murder the Travelers?"

Davir's face grew anxious. "They didn't tell me what they were going to do! I swear! They just wanted to know where they all were."

"That's not what I asked!"

"They didn't say why! The priests said it had to happen, but they wouldn't tell me anything else!"

Leena spoke up for the first time. "You claim you didn't know they were going to kill the Travelers, but then you kept working with them afterward?" She had to discover what he knew, and when he knew it.

"They forced me to! They would have killed me if I didn't!"

"What did I tell you about lying?" Rohav asked him.

"We found this on him when you went to get the others," Pavan told Leena, holding up a coin pouch. He untied it and turned it over, letting dozens of golden coins fall to the floor.

"Money?" Leena asked, feeling sick. "You betrayed the Zidari for money?"

"It was that or a knife through the ribs!" the Seeker said.

"Then you picked the wrong choice," Rohav said.

"Razai overheard part of a conversation while she was scouting their camp," Ellerie added. "From what she told us, it didn't sound like he was there against his will."

Rohav nodded. "Men like him will spin any lie they can, even to themselves, if they think it'll make them look better."

"It's the truth!" Davir protested.

Pavan said, "Why did the attacks in Sanvar stop? Why did you come here?"

"The Travelers killed most of the church members the priests had recruited for the job in Sanvar," the Seeker said. "And something scared the priests when she went to Cordaea." He pointed his chin in Leena's direction, his hands still tied behind his back.

"What was it that scared them?"

Leena ran her fingers over the bracelet that was still hidden under her sleeve. But Razai had thought they'd come for two things, not one.

"I don't know, but they decided to send me here," Davir said. "I didn't even know they had people in Cordaea until then. My cousin's a Traveler—I didn't include her on the list when they asked me to find them all. She brought me to Renfar, on the east coast, but I didn't tell her why."