A Darkness Unleashed (Book 2) Read online

  When the horse’s hooves hit surf, Darve allowed himself a look back. The trees followed still, but at a greater distance. Two more horses had fallen and slowed the abominations’ progress as they stopped to lap up the blood.

  He did not allow their horses to slow, but urged them on to greater speed. The animals had begun to tire, and several without riders started to flag. Looking back, Darve saw the trees swarm toward the limping horses, and he felt a pang of sorrow for the animals who had given so much to save them.

  The first roots touched the salt water. The trees shrank back, their branches quivering. The great howl sounded in the distance, full of rage and frustration. The animated trunks surged forward again, only to flinch at the sea, making a horrible squealing sound. They flailed their limbs, some of which snapped off in their violent thrashing.

  Darve let himself breathe again and threw a relieved look at Ravenna. She only returned a face full of sorrow.

  After a mile he allowed the horses to slow, and soon they caught up with the rest of the herd. In a cluster they continued along the beach, everyone exhausted and near to dropping. One or two horses did, and their riders put them out of their misery. Those soldiers who could still walk gave their mounts respite. Those who could not clung to the strongest animals left.

  Occasionally, the haunting howl sounded in the growing distance. One long, mournful shriek eventually ended as a greenish haze appeared on the horizon just a mile or so ahead.

  “Great Earth,” Darve whispered. “I never thought that switchgrass would look like paradise.”

  “Magic is our blessing and our curse.” – Caladrius Dreamwalker

  Tallen wondered if their Bluecloak escorts had removed their fingers from their weapons since he and the others had arrived back at base camp. Day and night, through their ride back to Novon and in tightly guarded camps, the soldiers kept a close eye on both him and the horizon. Dorias did not need to bark at them so, but I know he feels guilty for bringing me out here.

  He looked over at his friend where he sat in Shade’s saddle. Merl rode on the wizard’s shoulder, silent. Dorias’ face hovered between a downcast frown and an angry, pinched stare at the horizon. When Tallen caught his gaze, the wizard shook his head.

  “At least I was wise enough to give you that medallion.” He lifted the hood of his cloak to ward off a chill blast of wind that fluttered Merl’s feathers. “Even though I was a fool to think I could protect you out here.”

  Shrugging his shoulders, Tallen lifted one hand toward his friend. “Come now. I wanted to come out here. We all made it back alive. We beat the enemy who came after us.” He smiled. “We won.”

  Dorias drew down his brow. “That is fool’s belief. We could easily have not survived.” He waggled his finger and Merl took flight on a gust. “You are far too important to expose to the unknown. If the enemy had taken you…” He held his tongue and studied the Bluecloaks.

  Tallen jerked Stew’s reins around hard enough that the horse snorted. Heat rose in his temples, and he could not guard his words. “Then how am I ever to learn a bloody thing? I can’t learn all I need to know hiding on an island or behind some city walls. It is the whole reason I came out here. Someday no one will be there to come in and save me, and I’ve got to learn how to get myself out. How often have you put yourself in danger for a greater cause?” He jerked Stew forward and spurred him to the front of the line. “Quit trying to coddle me!”

  “I’m not trying to coddle you,” Dorias shouted back, giving Shade a rare spur to follow. “I’m trying to protect you from an enemy that will consume you! One that will take your power and turn it against us!”

  Tallen pulled on the reins so hard Stew almost sat down. The last several weeks had been intense, full of a rollercoaster of emotions – his love for Maddi, his fear of the enemy hunting him, their ambush out on the wastes. Since the skittering had wounded him, he had not had a chance to take a breath, save a few days on the riverboat. Even those had been full of training and a few stolen hours with Maddi. He threw his hands in the air.

  “Then why don’t you just kill me out here and get it over with!” Tallen jumped out of the saddle and strode out into the normal prairie grass surrounding Novon, tapping himself on the chest. “Just end it here. You don’t think I haven’t thought of it!” He kicked a tuft of thick clover. “Do you think I like the idea of my mind being consumed by some ancient, hell-bent spirit? Do you think I want my body to become some dark overlord of the entire land? Kill my whole family?” Tallen collapsed to his knees. The pain of threatened tears stretched across his brow. “I’m scared to death of it…but I have no choice but to face it.”

  The pinched scowl on Dorias’ face gradually melted into a sympathetic grimace. “I’m sorry, my friend. I know what it is like to feel powerless to guide your own destiny. I know your case is special.” He shook his head in distaste. “And I know that others have considered what you mention. But if we let ourselves become like our enemy, we lose the soul of that which we are trying to protect.”

  “It is also why we choose to keep your secret safe.” Tomas Harte scanned the Bluecloak squad. “We are men of honor and we fight evil. We do not become it.”

  A full chorus of agreement sounded from the Bluecloaks, though most seemed confused about why.

  Dorias hopped down and walked over to place his hand tentatively on Tallen’s shoulder. “We will help you face it, together.” Tomas nodded in agreement. “But we can do so from a safer venue than out alone in the Wastes.”

  A darker cast hovered over Tomas’ face. “No less safe a venue than the entire Gannonite army once Arathan arrives.” The paladin pointed at his plated chest. “I bear as much responsibility as you, my friend. I should have known better than for us to venture out with you alone.”

  Dorias offered a hand. Tallen took it, stood up, and then jumped into Stew’s saddle. Silence hovered over the group as they crossed the last few miles. Novon brooded on its rise, though to Tallen the walls seemed a little less stout than before. The wind carried most of the forge smoke away eastward, but he could still smell the fires.

  Gwelan rejoined the group with a pair of rangers in Fadecloaks, who escorted them the rest of the way back. They rode straight through the gates and into the organized chaos that were the streets of Novon, not stopping until they reached the headquarters Earl Boris and Duke Aginor had commandeered. A groom led Stew away, but not before Tallen gave the old nag a good rub behind the ears. He also noticed that Tomas seemed reluctant to let the grooms lead Fireheart away.

  Inside the headquarters, an invigorated bustle filled the open space. Tallen followed Tomas and Dorias as they walked right up to the table with spread maps and miniature statues. Brawny lay by the largest fireplace, but he jumped up when Tallen entered. The wolfhound came over and did not stop nuzzling Tallen’s hand until he gave the dog’s ear a good scratch.

  Boris and Aginor stood together behind the strategy table, while Joslyn Britt and Jaerd hovered close by. Tallen’s brother tossed him a quick wink. Some of the other nobles had gathered about, nervous expressions on their faces.

  “The king has arrived in Gavanor.” Boris looked at each of them in turn, lingering slightly on Tallen. “He has a quarter million men.”

  Tallen gasped, and Tomas shook his head.

  “About damn time,” the wizard muttered while tapping his bare upper lip. “Too bad seven thousand had to die at Highspur first.”

  Boris sliced one hand through the air. It struck the table on one of the maps, jostling the figurines. “We do not know for certain if they are all dead. If they are, they shall be avenged.”

  Duke Aginor placed one hand on Boris’ shoulder.

  “King Arathan will march west with additional troops from Gavanor tomorrow.” Boris folded his cloak behind him. “We have less than a week to prepare for their arrival.” He looked at Jaerd. “I want our entire
force mounted and ready when His Majesty arrives. They will not be stopping in Novon. Our orders are to join the host as rearguard.”

  Aginor stretched his neck. “Seems a bit of a slight to your honor, my Lord.”

  Boris shook his head, fixed on the maps. “Any place in Arathan’s army is an honor.”

  The gravity of the moment pushing him, Tallen chimed in. “What can we do?”

  The earl looked up at him. “You should rest, for you will all be joining the host when it leaves, but first you are going to tell me everything you found in the Wastes.” He examined Tallen’s bruised face further then looked at Tomas and Dorias in turn. “I imagine it is quite a story.”

  Dorias tossed the smooth stone they had found on the dead orc leader’s body onto the map. It landed smack in the center of the Wastes. “Your plan worked, but we almost paid everything for it. I far underestimated the strengths of the enemy. We defeated an orc party meant to kill us and take Tallen. They almost did. Other than that, nothing moves on this side of the Gallond River.”

  Earl Boris peered at the stone, while Magus Britt picked it up, a sour expression on his face.

  “What kind of orc party?” Jaerd’s eyes drifted back and forth between Tomas and Dorias, eventually settling on Tallen. “You took care of them?”

  “Many of them are dead,” Tomas answered, “including their leader. A few escaped us, but our fight was…difficult.”

  “Come,” Boris signaled for the duke to join them. “We shall go back into my study and you will tell me everything.”

  Torches brightened the dark city streets when Tallen at last wandered out of the headquarters building. His three friends walked beside him, their faces reflecting the exhaustion he felt in his bones.

  Jaerd waved goodbye at the door and gave Tallen a wink. “When you get to your room, you can thank me.”

  Too tired to ask questions, Tallen wondered what his brother had meant. The four trudged back to the Iron Maiden, making their way easily through the late night streets. Smoke still hung over the city, obscuring the crescent moon, and the pounding of hammer on anvil rang on into the night.

  Gwelan seemed to have more energy in his steps than Tomas or Dorias, who had displayed a morose humor since hearing news of the king’s army. Tallen had noticed a rare impatience about Tomas during Boris’ debrief of their scouting. Even Boris seemed unusually on edge, and Magus Britt hardly said a word. Perhaps Highspur changed them both. He looked at the dirt and scars on his hands. Or maybe it is just me who has changed.

  The cross-hatched windows of the inn let out a cheery glow, and the sound of reedy western music filtered into the street. A couple of off-duty soldiers stood nearby with flagons, enjoying the night air with their ale. They gave Tomas a short salute with their cups and turned back to their raucous conversation.

  The room spun with soldiers and drink. Local maidens and prostitutes found welcoming laps, while a few twirled in time to the music.

  “The men know that the sitting and waiting is almost over,” Dorias called to him over the noise. “They celebrate the knowledge that the battle is coming at last.”

  Tomas pursed his lips. “It is almost a relief. The uncertainty of waiting drives men to do foolish things.”

  Gwelan nudged Tallen’s shoulder, a cynical grin on his lips. “Basically they are now free to drink and rut themselves into a stupor one last time before they march off to face their death.”

  Tallen rubbed his empty stomach. “Right now all I want is a big bowl of stew, a loaf of bread, and a bed.” He waved at the chef in the kitchen behind the bar. “Reis will send us something.”

  The beef and vegetable stew only lasted long enough to be mopped up by the end nub of his loaf of bread. Tallen sipped at a cool ale, but the idea of drinking any more made his head throb.

  Tomas finished his meal as quickly as Tallen. “I must go check on Fireheart. His wound is mostly healed, but I will take no chances.” He bowed to the others. “Rest well tonight, my friends. You all deserve it.”

  Dorias grabbed the paladin’s wrist. His dark eyes carried a pained squint. “You deserve good rest too, old friend, even if it’s in the stall next to him.”

  Nodding, Tomas turned to leave the inn. Tallen knew the man must feel exhausted, but appeared nowhere in his carriage.

  His head spinning from exhaustion and stomach full at last, Tallen rose from his own seat. “I guess that means I get my own room tonight. See the two of you in the morning.”

  A playfulness to his tone, Dorias pointed upstairs. “I will be watching over you closely…” He lowered the brow and gave Tallen a wink. “…but not too closely.”

  Tallen furrowed his brow, wondering what the wizard meant. But his exhaustion won over, and he gestured to Gwelan before turning and slipping up the stairs. The door to the room he shared with Tomas clicked open with his key. In the darkness, he sensed movement along his side of the room and immediately embraced his power. He threw a ball of magical light into the darkness, and grabbed a large chunk of Earth to hurl.

  Maddi blinked at him from his bed, a coy smile flashing her white teeth. “Hi, handsome. Is that light so you can better examine me?”

  The Aspects disappearing from his grasp, Tallen rushed forward to wrap his arms around her and pull her down onto the heavy quilt. Their lips met, first cool and probing, then warm and inviting. He felt the familiar arch of her back and lifted one hand to cradle her neck. That hand then slipped backward through her silky, coal-black hair.

  He leaned back suddenly, her lips chasing his. “Wait. What are you doing here? Did you finish the hospital already?”

  She titled her head back to look at his face and hands. “What did they let happen to you?” Her voice held a hint of fear along with her usual concern. “Here…”

  Tallen felt the familiar echo of Maddi using her Talent. “Tomas already healed me.”

  “Tomas is a hack,” she said flatly. “One hell of a swordsman, but his healing technique leaves much to be desired.”

  The warm tingle of her life force washed over him, like a creeping foam that wrapped around his body. He could feel her psahn melding with his for a moment, and then a great rush as the aches, pains, and scars of his weeks in the wilderness faded away.

  As if it were a natural reaction, Tallen touched the Psoul Aspect, intertwining it in intricate patterns with Maddi’s outstretched psahn. A surprised smile spread across her face, and he felt his own reaction match hers.

  Waves of warmth pulsated through his body, and for a bare moment he saw a wiry little girl wrap her arms around a tall man’s leg. The man smiled at her, a gaze full of love and warmth that played at an echo of memory in Tallen’s mind. He then encircled the girl with his arm, and the misty forms drifted away.

  He let go his power, and both of them gasped.

  “I saw a little boy hugging a man in a bright, white apron.” Maddi reached out to adjust the tunic on his shoulders. “Was that you and…and your father?”

  “I don’t know,” Tallen replied, sniffing. “I saw a girl hugging a tall man.”

  Tears flowed from Maddi’s eyes, but she did not sob. “It was…amazing. What happened? ”

  Tallen shook his head. “I don’t know exactly. It felt a little like when I used to visit the Dreamrealm, before I found out Galdreth could find me there.” He took up her hand. “But it was far more wonderful.”

  Maddi smiled, her exquisite lips catching the dim light. “It was.” She squeezed his hand. “But we should not do it again until we know it is not dangerous to you, especially if it is part of this Dreamrealm.”

  Sadness washed through his heart, but the fear that crept along its edge let him know she was right.

  “Don’t worry,” she said with a laugh and a push onto the bed. “We still have the old fashioned way to…entwine.”

  “The Kingdom of Gannon shal
l, in times of war with any power not listed as Allies in Section One of this Treaty, provide full and utter protection to any of the five Free Cities, save in the case of war between said Free Cities as a matter of civil dispute.” – Fourth Treaty of Alliance between Gannon and the Free Cities, 330 A.R.

  Captain Jaerd Westar shifted his sore shoulder underneath the twenty pounds of chainmail slung over his back. His Gannon-blue cloak, strapped across his chest for battle, pulled a little tightly where the stab wound still caught in his muscle.

  Maddi laughed. “It’s what you deserve for getting in a bar fight.”

  Straightening his arm, Jaerd eyed her on the other side of Tallen and grumbled under his breath to his horse. “Like I told you after you healed me, I was breaking up the bar fight.”

  The horse seemed not to hear as he stamped the gradually thawing ground. Spring scented the edge of the breeze coming out of the west. The sun holds a good dollop of it, too. He pulled at his collar where the two silver stars poked at his neck. I hope we get on the road soon. This waiting is going to kill us.

  Tallen edged his old palfrey closer. “How soon will they be getting here?”

  Hiding a frown of uncertainty, Jaerd gestured with his reins at the horizon. “He’s the king. He gets here when he gets here.” He examined the horse Tallen called Stew. “You’re still riding that thing? I thought he was old when dad got him for a steal. They’re a smooth ride…” Jaerd snickered. “…for a lady.”

  His little brother lifted his nose in the air. “Or a fine gentleman.” He twirled one finger. “Or a powerful wizard.”

  Jaerd laughed out loud, catching a quick glare from Magus Britt a dozen paces away. He cleared his throat. “Will he be able to carry you and that ego of yours all the way across the Wastes?”

  Tallen patted the horse’s withers. “He already did once.”