Witch Wraith

Twenty-two

Seersha and Crace Coram flew their two-man north through the remainder of the day, making sure they kept well east of the Straken Lord’s army. Neither Dwarf had ever seen an army of this size, so massive and sprawling that it seemed to have no beginning or end, blanketing the countryside for as far as the eye could see. It let them better understand why the Federation army in Arishaig had been unable to defend the city. The Elves would be no more successful in trying to defend Arborlon.

“An evacuation is the only answer against a force of this size,” the Dwarf Chieftain insisted within minutes of surveying the onslaught below them.

“The Elves won’t give up Arborlon,” Seersha replied at once. “They won’t leave their home city. They won’t abandon the Ellcrys. They will stand and fight.”

“Which is madness,” her companion hissed in dismay.

“Maybe. But that’s the way of it. And it’s why I am setting you down outside Tyrsis as soon as we sight her. I need you to get word to the Border Legion. Let them know what’s happened, if they don’t know already. Tell them the Elves will need their support. Then fly on to the Dwarves and bring them, as well. Use the flatbeds for transport—as many as you can manage. No arguments from the other Chieftains. There’s no time for it.” She paused. “Can you do it, old dog?”

He scowled at her. “The ‘old dog’ will need three days to get reinforcements to Arborlon. Can you give me that?”

She grinned and nodded, and suddenly they were laughing. It was insanity, all of it hopeless, and there was nothing for it but to stare it down and laugh in its face. You did what you had to in a situation like this one. You did what your heart and your sense of right and wrong told you was needed.

They flew past the ocean of creatures serving the Straken Lord and continued north. It was close to midnight when she dropped him just west of the city of Tyrsis, the fortress settled high on the massive plateau overlooking the grasslands of the Streleheim. He would make the gates well before sunrise and do what he must to try to help her. She, in the meantime, would snatch a few precious hours of sleep, then go to the Elves and see if she could manage to open their eyes. Or, more particularly, the eyes of Phaedon Elessedil, who would most probably want her clapped in irons and locked away the moment he saw her.

But she was a Druid first and always, and a warrior to boot—a planner and a tactician. She would not give him the chance to do what he would like. She would find a way to turn his rage and obstinacy against him.

The hours were long and the tension high as she steered a course safely beyond the demonkind while keeping a sharp eye out for Elven craft, as well. But she reached the Valley of Rhenn by midafternoon and sailed through the shadow of its cliff-walled gap, giving a wave to the sentries—a sign of friendship that she hoped would be enough to keep them from trying to stop or engage her. Her hopes were realized when no aircraft moved to intercept her and no challenge was issued to stop her passing.

She moved on quickly from there to the outskirts of Arborlon, choosing to land at the Elven airfield where she believed she might be lucky enough to find a friendly face. In fact, she found several. A handful of the Elven Home Guards she had been training with were working on a skiff nearby when she landed and wandered over to see what had brought her back.

“I thought you might be missing me,” she answered with a laugh. “Any warrants or postings out on me?”

She said it jokingly, tossing it off, watching them carefully for signs of uneasiness, but the Elves just shrugged.

“Who would bother with something like that?” one asked.

“Well, your new King wasn’t exactly friendly toward me when we parted,” she said.

“I wouldn’t spend my time worrying about that,” said another, pulling a face. “Our new King is too busy trying to find his backside with both hands to be bothered with the likes of Dwarves or Druids!”

“Unless he thought Dwarves might do a better job of finding it than he could, them being smaller in stature and all,” said another.

They all howled with glee, and she let them do so. No point in making this into something it clearly wasn’t. She laughed as if sharing the joke, and then casually asked, “Do you know where I can find Sian Aresh?”

They did better than that. One of them offered to find the Captain of the Home Guard and bring him to her. She almost agreed, but then decided it would be better if she found him herself. Sending word risked having Phaedon learn she was back in Arborlon, and she wasn’t ready for that to happen just yet. So she excused herself amid a final barrage of insults and jokes and set off for the Home Guard barracks where she was told Aresh could be found.

She took the trouble to procure and don one of the green cloaks of the Home Guard, leaving her own distinctive black one behind. The less attention she drew to herself, the better. She was putting herself in enough danger as it was, even though it seemed no one was looking for her at this point. Perhaps it was enough that she had fled with Crace Coram, removing herself from the city and the Elven population. Even Phaedon couldn’t seriously believe she had anything to do with the old King’s death. Mostly, she imagined, he simply wanted the Druids out of the way while he went about the business of establishing himself as King.

She knew her way around the Home Guard barracks well enough by now to come into the building through the rear entry and make her way to Sian Aresh’s office without being stopped. She stood just outside his door and listened to him speaking with another Elven Hunter, waited until the latter departed, and then stepped inside and closed the door behind her.

“Seersha,” he said, looking up, clearly startled. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Probably,” she answered. “Is the King still hunting for me?”

“The King has forgotten all about you. Is it your intention to remind him? What are you doing here?”

Quickly, she told him. The demon army had breached the walls of Arishaig, and the city was lost. The Federation army stationed there was broken and mostly destroyed, the population driven out, and the buildings in ruins. Now the attacking army—hundreds of thousands strong—was coming for Arborlon and the Elves, and seemingly without stopping for sleep. It marched north at a pace that would bring it to the mouth of the Valley of Rhenn in two more days.

“Do not rely on my word alone,” she finished. “Send scouts to witness for themselves what I have just told you about the size of this threat. The Elves are in grave danger, Sian. The King must act.”

He was on his feet. “The King will do what he wishes. That much has been made plain enough already. Even the presence of a demon army doesn’t guarantee that he will do as he should. He lacks his father’s good sense. He lacks …” He shook his head, as if unwilling to spend the time making a list. “Wait here while I will dispatch the airships and men needed to confirm your report.”

He went out the door and left her standing at his desk. She moved over to a high-backed wooden chair and sat while she waited for him to return. She was weary from all the travel and so little sleep, but there was nothing she could do about it just yet. Too much needed to be done first. She sat there thinking on it, going over again the plan she had hatched while flying back.

Aresh returned, closing the door once more and reseating himself. “We should have a report by tomorrow. Now, what of you?”

She shrugged. “I came back because there was nowhere else for me to go. I need to be where the fighting is if I’m to serve any useful purpose. I thought Aphen might have need of me, as well, when she returns. It’s worth the risk.”

“If you stay out of sight, the risk shouldn’t be great.”

“I can’t do that. I want you to take me before the King and High Council. I want to speak to them about what’s happening and what they need to do. What they must do. I’ve sent word to both the Border Legion and the Dwarves. I am hoping they will respond and send reinforcements to the Elves before the demon army reaches you.”

“Not enough time for that,” the other responded with a shrug. “Tomorrow morning? Even with airship transport, it will take them longer than that just to mobilize. But the bigger problem is the King. He doesn’t want help from any quarter. I’ve already spoken to him about the danger of an attack. He ignores it. He believes the assault to be directed toward the Federation alone. He uses his time to consolidate his position; he worries that like his father he, too, might be assassinated. He sees enemies everywhere. He has rescinded Emperowen’s order to mobilize and go to the aid of the Federation. He has decided to hunker down and wait this business out.” The Elven captain shook his head.

“Why is he doing this?” Seersha asked in dismay. “How can he think the Elves are safe from what’s happening? In any case, it points up the need for my report to the High Council. Perhaps they will find the backbone to act in spite of the King.”

Aresh shook his head. “The King is not himself, and he was not working with much even before he ascended to the throne. He is distracted, and his decisions feel arbitrary. I have managed to mobilize the Home Guard and the Elven army under the pretext of securing Arborlon, but I have no orders to take any part of it out of the city. We sit on our hands, waiting on the King.”

“Even knowing that the Ellcrys fails and the walls of the Forbidding are falling? Even knowing what Aphenglow and Arling have set out to do? Doesn’t anyone see what lies ahead if they fail?”

The Captain of the Home Guard leaned back in his chair. “No one can quite believe the old King is dead. So they see Phaedon as an anchor, a fixed point with which they are familiar and to which they can turn—and not as a weight that will drag them down. They don’t know him as you and I do. If Ellich were on the throne, it would be different. But Ellich is imprisoned.”

Seersha gave it another moment’s thought and then stood. “Then let’s do this another way. Arrange a private audience with the King. Do it any way you can manage, but do it quickly. Let me deal with Phaedon. I think I can find a way.”

“What you can most probably do is find a way to get yourself locked up with Ellich. The King is not inclined to listen to anyone. He rules, but he is paranoid and in fear for his life. This is a dangerous business you undertake, Seersha.”

But she insisted, and he finally agreed to do as she asked, though not without once more warning against it.

He went out again, and this time he was gone for the better part of an hour. While he was absent, she mulled over what lay ahead. The Elves would need to defend the entrance to the Valley of Rhenn. It was their only viable choice if they hoped to make a stand against an army of this size. A narrow opening could be defended and held for at least a few days, long enough perhaps for the combined forces of the Dwarves and Callahorn to reach them and attack the demons from the rear.

But still the demons would outnumber their combined forces. And even then, would the Straken Lord consider withdrawing?

She was bothered by the trajectory of the events that had occurred since the demons had broken out of the Forbidding. Why had the Straken Lord attacked Arishaig? The Elves were the real enemy and the Ellcrys the real danger. Of course, the Demons would have had to come out of the Forbidding where the wall was weakest and gave them access into the Four Lands. That might have brought them first to Arishaig, and they had simply taken advantage of it. But there was no doubting their ultimate goal—an attack on the Elves and the destruction of the Ellcrys.

She thought back to the last demon breakout, in the time of Eventine Elessedil. The Druid Histories of those years, compiled by Allanon, were familiar to her. Eventine Elessedil, a strong and competent King, had led an Elven army aided by Trolls, Dwarves, and the Border Legion of Callahorn, and even that had not been enough. Only a rebirth of the Ellcrys had saved the Four Lands—a rebuilding of the wall of the Forbidding so that the demonkind could be banished once again.

But this was a different world. The alliances of old were gone, and the possibility of the Forbidding being restored was far from certain.

She wondered suddenly of Railing Ohmsford and his companions and their quest to discover the fate of Grianne Ohmsford. Was it at all possible that anything would come of that? She had sent him away more to save his life than with any expectation that he would find a woman who by now would be well over a hundred years old.

But even so, she wondered.

Sian Aresh reappeared abruptly. “The King has agreed to a private audience. I told him I had someone who witnessed the fall of Arishaig firsthand and who could report on the size and movements of the demon army. I told him that what you have to say is for his ears alone. He does not yet know it is you.”

She smiled. “Well done. My thanks, Sian. Will you come with me?”

He laughed. “Will I come with you? I have been ordered to come! What happens to you likely happens to me, as well.”

She clapped him on the back. “Then I must make certain that we both stay safe.”

They went out of the building and down through the streets of Arborlon to the palace. Home Guards met them at every turn once they were inside the boundaries of the protected territory, but quickly gave way on seeing that it was Sian Aresh who escorted the green-cloaked lady Dwarf. If they recognized Seersha as a Druid, they gave no indication.

Once they were inside the palace, standing in a hallway that led to the reception chamber where Phaedon would receive them, Sian Aresh pulled her aside.

“Phaedon will attempt to have you locked up once he knows who you are,” he whispered. “Try not to give him an excuse.” He paused. “Whatever happens, I’ll do my best to get you out if this goes wrong.”

She fixed him with her good eye. “Phaedon will have troubles of his own before I’m done with him. Just be ready and don’t interfere.”

He gave her a doubtful look, but said nothing as he continued on, escorting her down the hall to the reception room doors.

Guards met them in force and closed about them as they entered the room. Phaedon sat in a chair at the far end of the room, smiling.

Seersha, mindful of protocol, bowed to the King in a clear show of deference. “High Lord,” she greeted him.

He beckoned her forward, then put up his hand to stop her when she was still a safe distance away. “I knew it was you, you know. You were seen and word was brought. I find it curious that you would return after having gone to such lengths to flee in the first place. Does it occur to you that coming back might be a foolish decision?”

“High Lord,” she answered, “I could do no less after seeing what has becoming of Arishaig and her people. I could do no less knowing that the enemy marches on Arborlon. All I ask is that you let me tell you what I have seen so that you can judge for yourself.”

She paused. “But first, my condolences on the death of your father. I should have stayed long enough to say this in the first place, but time was of the essence when I left Arborlon for Arishaig, even though I was too late to be of any service to that city.”

“Clever words, Seersha,” he replied, brushing off her regrets as if they were meaningless. “Druids always know what to say in the moment it needs saying. You must practice such deceptions endlessly. My dear cousin Aphenglow is equally talented in her use of this skill. Too bad she isn’t here now to lend you her support.”

“And lend it to you, as well,” she offered. “But we must make do with what we have at hand. May I speak? Do you wish me to do so in front of so many, or might it not be better if it were only one or two?”

He smiled knowingly. “I don’t wish to be alone with you, no matter the import of the news you bring. I don’t feel particularly safe with you, Lady Druid. Or with any of your kind. I will keep my guards close.”

Nevertheless, save for two standing to either side of his chair, he sent the rest to the back of the room. “A wrong move on your part will see you dead before you can think to do anything about it,” he warned. “Do you understand me?”

“Of course, High Lord,” she said. “I know your feelings and am aware of your intent regarding the Druids. I don’t come to please you. I come to help the Elven people. What you do about it is your own choice.”

He studied her long moments as if debating whether to let matters proceed. “Sian Aresh,” he said suddenly, his dark gaze shifting to the other. “Your own part in this charade will not be forgotten. Do not think I mistake what you have done here.”

“High Lord,” the Captain of the Home Guard replied, bowing slightly in acknowledgment.

Phaedon fixed him with eyes filled with malice and then signaled to Seersha. “Proceed.”

In simple, straightforward terms, she described what she had witnessed at Arishaig—a city in ruins, walls breached, gates thrown open, buildings on fire, and thousands dead. Some, she said, must have escaped, but clearly not many. The army garrisoned there, one of the most powerful in all of the Federation, was destroyed. The demon army had surmounted all the defenses and weaponry brought to bear against it through sheer weight of numbers and unmatched savagery and prevailed.

Now that army marched north, spilling across the Tirfing as it came, hundreds of thousands of predatory creatures intent on continuing their destruction of the Four Lands and its people, making their way now toward Arborlon and the Elves.

“They will arrive at the Valley of Rhenn in two days’ time if I have measured their speed of travel and their course correctly. If you wish to stop them before they reach Arborlon, that seems to be the place to do it.” She paused. “I offer my services in defense of the city.”

“Do you now?” Phaedon said, cocking an inquisitive eyebrow. “You make this offer for no other purpose than to help us? With nothing to gain but our undying gratitude? Such generosity sounds too good to refuse, and yet I must.”

“Because you don’t trust the Druids.”

“Because I don’t trust the Druids. Your information is appreciated, and I will take it under advisement. Of course, I will need to verify that what you have told me is accurate.”

“I have already dispatched aircraft to do exactly that,” Sian Aresh interrupted. “We should know by tomorrow.”

“Yes, be that as it may. You, Captain, are relieved of your command and will step down when this meeting is over. I will speak with your scouts personally and decide what must be done. Other choices are available to us, and I need to consider them.”

“I have summoned the Dwarves and the Border Legion to come to your aid,” Seersha added, deciding abruptly to hold nothing back. “They should begin to arrive in the next three days.”

The King turned scarlet. “Who gave you permission to speak in my name? Who told you to ask for their help—these outlanders and miscreants who have never been there for us? The Elves need no help from them! The Elves need no help from anyone!”

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the Home Guards exchanging worried looks. They had heard her account of the number of attackers coming for them. They had heard her describe what had happened to Arishaig. Unlike their King, they were not so confident.

Phaedon was on his feet now, his eyes hard and his mouth set in an ugly, furious line. “I think I will lock you up with my uncle, Lady Druid!” he hissed at her. “You are no better than he is. You presume when it is not your place to do so. You insult me with your very presence!”

“High Lord,” she said quickly. She gestured as if to emphasize what she was saying. “I would give you warning.”

He stared at her. “You would threaten me?”

“Not I. I am not the one who threatens you. It is another.”

“I care nothing for the threats of others!” he snapped. “Besides, you are lying. You would say anything to save yourself.”

She looked away, shrugging. “As you wish.”

“Wait!” he called out sharply, bringing her back around. “What warning would you give?”

She leaned toward him. “That you are in danger, High Lord.”

He went still, unable for a moment to respond. Then, regaining his composure, he said, “From what?”

She shook her head. “What I would tell you is for your ears only. No other must hear. The danger is closer at hand than you realize.”

She waited. Phaedon continued to stare at her, as if unable to make a decision on what to do. “May I approach?” she asked. She gestured to the guards clustered just behind her. “You are safe enough. But you should hear what I have to say.”

She said it with such urgency that she knew he took the bait. He hesitated a moment longer, then he beckoned her forward.

“But watch yourself, Lady Druid. Be mindful of what will happen if this is a trick.”

She advanced until she was standing right in front of him. She was shorter and wider and very much the stronger of the two. But he was taller, and his superior height gave him a sense of security it shouldn’t have. In a less debilitated state of mind, he might have recognized this. But here he did not.

She slumped slightly at the shoulders to add to his confidence. “There are those who would replace you as King. One of them is in this very room.”

His eyes went immediately to Sian Aresh. “Which one?”

“The one standing right in front of you,” she whispered.

The fingers of her right hand snaked about his left wrist. Druid magic flooded through him, and he was paralyzed instantly. There was no apparent effort on her part, no indication that she was doing anything other than continuing to advise him. She used her body to block what was happening, still talking while the magic she had surreptitiously summoned flooded through him, working on him as she had intended, rendering him immobile but doing something much more insidious, as well.

“You are not much of a King, Phaedon, that you would risk your people’s lives on a whim,” she whispered calmly, her fingers like iron about his wrist. “Not much of a King that you would ignore help when it was offered. Not much of a man even, if you would let your pride and your fears dictate a course of action that would bring disaster to your entire Race.”

His eyes were locked on hers, frozen in place like the rest of him. He could not manage even the smallest sound to summon help, caught up in the trap she had set for him. She kept talking as she waited for the magic to settle in and claim him completely, still pretending she was explaining something to him, engaged in a private conversation that no one else could hear.

When she felt him start to shake, she released his hands, waited a moment until she was sure he was infected, and then backed quickly away, looking over her shoulder at the Home Guards, a look of shock and concern mirrored on her face.

“Something’s wrong!” she called out to them. “He’s having a fit!”

Indeed, the Elven King was frothing at the mouth, weird sounds coming from somewhere deep inside him—not words exactly, but grunts and gasps and other indecipherable noises. His guards rushed to him, Sian Aresh with them, taking hold of him as he thrashed and convulsed.

Then, abruptly, he went limp, collapsing into unconsciousness in their arms. Aresh caught Seersha’s eye; she met his gaze without revealing anything.

“Take the King to his sleeping chambers,” the Captain of the Home Guard ordered, “and send for Healers to keep watch on him. Have them do what they can.” He glanced at Seersha again, and this time she nodded slightly. “Don’t leave him alone,” he added.

The King was carried from the room, still unconscious but breathing and alive. Aresh waited until they were gone and he and Seersha were alone before beckoning for her to follow.

As they passed out into the hallway and moved toward the front doors of the palace, he whispered, “You did that to him, didn’t you?”

She nodded. “Druids have a strict policy of not interfering in the affairs of the Races unless threatened. I deemed this a threat. Phaedon is dangerous, and he cannot be allowed to interfere with what we need to do. He will be incapacitated for a day or so. Longer, if I come back to him a second time, which I may very well decide to do if it is needed. But those two days will allow the Elven army time to move out of Arborlon and prepare to defend the valley.” She looked over at him as they walked. “You have to do this, you know. You have to be the one.”

“He removed me as Captain of the Home Guard,” Sian Aresh pointed out. “Remember?”

“He was a man in the first stages of a fit that has laid him out like a baby,” she answered. “Anyway, he said your position would be terminated after the meeting was over. That never really happened. You’re still the leader your men will look to. You are the one they will follow.”

“And you will stand with us?”

“As I promised. Until there’s no longer anywhere for me to stand.”

They went out the palace doors into the sunshine. “We don’t have much of a chance, do we?” he said.

“Any chance is better than none.”

“What we need is a miracle.”

“What we need,” she replied softly, “is for Aphen and Arling Elessedil to find the Bloodfire and come back to us.”