15. In Tirah

We had little more time after that. She told me what little she knew of Tirah and of the king, and she assured me Themm was safe and well.  She shared a bottle of stale water with me and half a loaf of bread. She was trying her hand at the thick knots that bound my wrists behind my back when a heavy footstep outside the tent stopped her. She drew away.

The ones who came for me were two big guards, and from the looks in their eyes they knew about the role I'd played at their little ambush. They were none too gentle as they dragged me from the tent, but they let me keep my feet. I walked between them across the camp, learning everything I could of it.

There were campfires everywhere. Dusk still hung in the air, but I could see the glow of campfires holding back the night in all directions. There must have been hundreds of tents. There could have been thousands. Straining my gaze into the distance, I could see a faint curve as the smaller clusters of tents bent toward the north, encircling the distant town.

My escorts led me to Lareth's tent. It was huge—easily three or four times the size of the dusty brown tents the soldiers used. This one was nearly a pavilion and stained a deep black that gave it a powerful presence at the heart of the camp. A guard outside the tent ducked in first, spoke briefly, then came back out and waved me on ahead. My escort stayed behind. I cast one last look around, trying to memorize every aspect of the camp's layout, and then ducked on in with my wrists still bound behind me.

I expected some kind of luxury. Instead I recognized the same tent I'd been prisoner in before. The chair had been righted and beyond it—in a corner I hadn't been able to see before—a simple bedroll lay in disarray. An open bottle of wine stood beside it, and a pile of leather-bound books. The wizard held another in his hand.

Now, too, there was a cold green flame hanging in the air off to one side. I felt my eyes drawn to it, and I saw Lareth turn to face it, too. He nodded slowly. "Impressive, is it not?" he said. "Or perhaps you do not know. So take my word, it's an impressive thing. A thing of my own making, even more."

He shook his head. "But you cannot see even a fraction of the thing." He stepped closer and waved a careless hand. As he did, a pressure I hadn't known was there eased in my head. "Go on," he said. "Look with the wizard's eye, and see what I have wrought."

I hesitated, the memory of pain still far too clear. He smiled at that and shook his head. "I mean to send you north to kill my foe," he said. He waved again, a slicing gesture, and I felt the bonds on my wrists fall away. I massaged life back into my hands. He nodded. "You'd do me little good without your power. Now try."

I hesitated a heartbeat longer, but if he only wanted to hurt me he had plenty of other ways to do that. I closed my eyes and stepped through the exercises Antinus had taught me so long ago. They drew my focus from the pain and fear. They helped me press those things down, to push them back, until I was nothing but my concentrated will. I breathed once, in and out, and opened my eyes to the world of energies and powers.

The tent held none. I realized for the first time there was no flame in here, no light but the cold green glow of Lareth's artificial fire. The air was still, the earth was out of reach. The only energy I could see in the entire tent was Lareth's—the strength of life that made him glow like a star, and the tiny reflection of that flame in his mystic fire.

Out of curiosity I reached out to that fire with my senses, but I could not grip it. My will passed right through. I could see the shape of it, though, could sense the purpose behind the working. It pulsed with the energy of a traveling, all bound up and hovering on the brink of realization.

I dropped my second sight and found Lareth watching my eyes. Too late he put on a careless grin, but I had seen the calculation, the measurement. I waved to the flame. "It's just a way to save a working?"

"It's...something on those lines," the wizard said. "It binds my will in place and time, unfolding without thought when I intend."

"And this one is for me?"

He showed his teeth. "This one's for you," he said. "This is your traveling toward Tirah. It opens when the sun is set."

I nodded slowly, mostly for his pride. "Quite impressive," I said. "I've never seen its like."

He snorted and shook his head. "Come," he said. He stepped across and took my arm, his thin fingers hard around my biceps. "We have some moments left before it shall unfold." He steered me toward the tent's entrance. As we stepped out into the falling night I saw again the myriad glowing campfires, and for a heartbeat I considered reaching for them.

Lareth stopped me with a slight pressure on my arm before he stretched an arm toward the tent where Isabelle was waiting. I saw another cold green flame above its peak. I felt a pit of ice in my stomach, and from the corner of my eye I saw Lareth slowly nod. He said nothing.

"And what is that one?" I asked.

"A simple thing," he said. "A ball of fire. Not...." He chuckled, amused. "Not the cold green sort, I should say. But hot. White hot. And larger than a house."

"And what...." I had to lick dry lips. "What trigger unfolds that one?"

"You," he said, and at last he played no games. He turned to me, cold and serious. "You, and her. If she should run—"

"She will not run," I said.

He grinned again. "She won't," he said. "And so already you have earned your keep. You did an admirable job of that. I think she quite believes that you will handle everything."

I swallowed. His eyes danced with a deadly light, and he nodded slowly.

"It was a ruse, of course," he said. "Betray me to the king? You're far too sharp to go through with that plan." His eyes flashed and his voice turned cold. "Do as you're told. Do only as you're told. And come back once it's done—before the dawn—and you can have the girl. I'll make her yours, to do with as you will."

I had to fight for a breath. I couldn't tear my eyes from the cold green flame. "Before the dawn?" I asked.

"By dawn," he said again. "The king is dead by dawn, or Isabelle instead."

I spun on him. "I can't guarantee that," I said. "I don't know Tirah. I don't know the king's disposition. I don't have any access to him—"

"Oh, but you are quite the clever lad," he said. "You'll find a way. I've every faith in you. Come now, your flame unfolds."

I fell into my second sight and reached for the working that hovered over Isabelle's tent, but I could no more touch it than I could the one in the tent. I could grab the campfires, though. I could burn this whole encampment to the ground. I could open the earth and swallow Lareth's tent. But Isabelle would die. I might die, too, but then and there that didn't bother me too much. That had been almost inevitable since the moment I dove through Lareth's portal at Nathan's farm.

But Isabelle... she trusted me. She needed me. To save her home. To save her. I felt a frantic desperation clawing at the back of my breastbone. I forced my sight away, and turned my back upon Isabelle's soft little prison. In Lareth's tent, the portal waited. He raised an eyebrow at me, impatient.

I knew what Isabelle would want me to do. I had no doubt. She had already risked her life to save her lands and she hadn't hesitated to ask me to do the same. This was larger than either of us. Her choice was made. She would want me to bring the king's forces to end the rebel threat no matter what the cost. I took a step toward the portal and felt cold sweat between my shoulder blades.

Perhaps I could still find a way. Perhaps I could still save us all. But before the dawn? I frowned at that. The deadline made it harder. I'd thought I might have a week—a day, at least, to bring the cavalry from Tirah—but one night? I shivered and took another step.

Off to the side, the wizard laughed. "You've drama fit to fill the king's theater, child. Just go and get it done. I'll shower you with coin. I'll name you first lieutenant of the sword. I'll teach you everything the Masters won't. Just kill the king and end this war for all."

I stopped one pace from the portal and met his eyes. "I want the girl," I said. "I want Isabelle unharmed. For that—for that alone—I'll do this deed."

"It's yours," he said, impatience almost making it a growl. "Just go!"

I closed my eyes and stepped through to Tirah.

---

The largest of the Ardain's duchies, Tirah is only rivaled by the capitol itself. And like the proud city, its lords have long felt due a greater role. Lareth had called this war inevitable, and in a way it was. As long as I had known anything of the nation's politics, I'd known of the festering rebellion in Ardain. Even when I was a boy my father had spoken of it as an old and tired thing.

There was wealth on the continent. There was pride, and culture, and tradition. A thousand years and more these lands had owed their fealty to the FirstKing and his heirs. And yet, for just as long, they'd toyed with breaking free.

I found the clear reminder of that the moment I stepped out of Lareth's gate. I stood within a hall of quarried stone, and an eerie recognition settled down on me. I hurried ahead, to a wider crossing corridor, and looked left out into a courtyard bordered by a gold-wrought gate.

It wasn't the capitol palace. It stood upon a square as flat and low as everything else in central Ardain, but the layout was the same. The structure was the same. They'd made a copy of the royal palace here in old Tirah. I turned to the right, instead, to the great arching double doors that would have opened upon the king's throne room. Here, it could be just the same.

Lareth had done it. He had brought me to the very door of the king. A dozen guards stood at attention outside those closed doors, every eye fixed on me as I stepped into the corridor. Two of them wore the uniforms of the Green Eagles as well, and they stood apart. I had to pass between them to approach the guards at the door. Those guards raised pikes to block my way before I'd gotten halfway there, but I shook my head.

"No," I shouted. "I'm no threat to the king. I bring dire news. The wizard Lareth plans to kill him here! I must get word to him."

I saw a look of concern pass among some of them, but it did nothing to gain me passage. If anything it raised their suspicion. Two of the guards stepped out into the hall and leveled their pikes at my heart. I slammed to a stop, hands raised and empty.

"I'm not a threat," I said. "I am no threat at all. Do not admit me. I don't care. But take a message to the king. It's vital that he hear—"

A hand clamped hard upon my shoulder—hard enough to make me wince—and turned me from the guards to face a Green Eagle with fresh scars on his cheek and neck and hand. From the look of them, they might have been received at the morning's ambush.

I paled. "Please, sir," I said. "We must move quick—"

"We will," he said. His voice was low and harsh, like a spill of gravel. "But you will not. Come with me. Ellone, inform the Knight Captain. I will take this one to the barracks hall."

He never relaxed that grip upon my shoulder. He turned and left, and if I had resisted at all it would have snapped my collarbone. I went along, some flare of hope bright and hot within my chest. We went four paces and Ellone had barely moved from his position on the wall when suddenly the doors flew open behind us.

The Green Eagle who held my shoulder slowed just long enough to glance back, and I turned back, too. And there was the king. Ten paces away. He looked no different than he had the night he chased me from the City. Storm clouds raged in his eyes, and he stomped into the hall all full of fury. I tried to turn to him, to call out warning, to beg his aid, to end this war—

I'd barely moved at all when my escort sensed the motion and, without warning or even apparent effort, flung me to the floor. I landed hard and bounced. I rolled onto my back and tried to rise, but before I knew what was happening I felt the Green Eagle's sword against my throat, just below my jaw. "Hold fast," he said, and I froze.

The king whisked by without a glance in my direction. He grunted as he passed, "Well done, well done," and the soldier over me nodded his quiet thanks. Then Ellone, the other Eagle, resumed his place against the wall. I saw the king slipping away down the hall.

"Wait!" I screamed. "Your Highness, no! I have grave news!" I cut off short when the cold steel of the Eagle's blade pressed harder at my throat. The king flew on, altogether unconcerned.

I felt a flash of fury then. Torches lined the hall. Fire. Fire everywhere. I remembered what the wizard had said about the king's safeguards and wondered how many threads of flame I would need to catch the man's attention. I wondered how many it would take to burn him down to ash.

I knew it would take just one cold steel blade to end my life. It would take less than an inch, the work of the flick of a wrist. I swallowed delicately and held my tongue. I gained nothing by rousing their suspicion. Better to wait and convince them later. I held my place while the bodyguard on the king's heel stormed after him.

One among them paid me more attention than the king had. A Green Eagle in the full uniform, with extra bars of rank on his shoulders. He stopped to share a word with Ellone, and then another bit of praise to the soldier who had so handily silenced my outburst. And then he cast a glance down at me—

And I recognized him. He had advanced in rank but I knew the long, scarred face and the eyes so full of hate. He knew me, too. His eyebrows came down sharp and in a blur his sword, too, was at my throat. "Get him clear!" he bellowed to the guards who followed the king. "Now! Now! Ellone, to the king! We have a traitor here!" I heard the hustle of movement down the hall as the king's escort hurried him away.

I tried to shake my head, but I could barely move without opening my throat. My eyes strained wide. I showed my open hands and croaked up at him, "I mean no harm. I have come to warn you."

"You have come to die," Othin said. He pressed the blade harder, and I thought perhaps he meant to kill me then and there. He stopped just short of that and growled. "Where's my sword?"

I almost laughed as the answer came to mind. His sword was in a dragon's cave somewhere, or perhaps on the bottom of the ocean. He didn't truly care about the sword, though. He knew me. That was the point. He meant the question for a reminder of the dishonor I had done him.

"It is long gone," I said. "Everything between us is well and truly gone," I said more strongly. "Othin, please. Hear me. The king's life is at risk, as is his friend's. The baron Eliade—"

He kicked me, hard, just below the ribs. It shut me up. He grunted. "Get this one to the cells. I must secure the king, but I will be along for him soon enough. He may know some magic. If he does anything—anything at all—then run him through."

With that he left. I lay upon my back, staring up at the Green Eagle who had thrown me there. I met his gaze, trying to keep the bitter anger from my eyes. "The rebel wizard Lareth can open portals to the king," I said. "He was behind the assault on the Cara Road this morning."

I saw the soldier's eyes go wide at that, and I nodded carefully against the cool steel of his blade. "He has a force of several hundred gathered in one place, ripe for attack. They must be the bulk of the enemy's force, and Lareth himself is the gravest threat by far."

The Green Eagle narrowed his eyes, considering me, and I showed him my empty hands again. "I know their dispositions," I said. "Take me to the cells. Lock me up. I do not care. But bring me the king, or even the Knight-Captain, and I will tell him everything he needs to end this rebellion here and now."

His eyes narrowed as he considered me. Then he withdrew his blade and jerked his head. "On your feet." I scrambled up and he gestured with the naked blade. I started walking.

He turned me down a side hall, opposite the way the king had gone. We were soon alone, and for several slow paces I considered my options. I fell into my second sight and saw the flicking fires, saw the ponderous weight of the worked stone. I could have burned the guard alive or buried him in stone. But he was not my enemy. I could have trapped his feet and run, but what would I have gained? My only hope was meeting with the king, or sending word to him, and my only chance at that lay in patient obedience.

So I went quietly. The cells lay in a wide wing of the palace and looked nothing like I'd imagined. I had expected cramped little pens in a cold, musty dungeon. The room he threw me in was every bit as large at the one I'd had at the Academy and, after a cursory glance, it proved better appointed than that one, too.

Its inner wall was not of solid bars, but the worked stone gave way to a barred window from waist-high to crown which would have allowed a guard easy oversight of anything a prisoner might get up to. The outer wall offered a window, too, likewise covered in iron bars. I could see the stars pinpoint bright against the violet night without.

My escort left me there. I pleaded with him one last time to carry my word to the king, but he gave no response at all. He saw me in my room, summoned a guard to lock my door, and then he left. I tried the guard, too, but he paid me less attention even than the Eagle had.

But Othin had promised to come for me. It was little comfort. I'd met the man once, he'd tried to kill me, and I'd left him looking like a fool. I shivered at the memory, at the hate that had burned in his statue eyes, and it hadn't faded a shade in the year that had passed since then.

This was bigger than either of us, though. The man was Knight-Captain to a king deep in hostile territory now. That had to take precedence over any old insults. I took a deep breath and clung to that thought. He would listen. He would have to. I spent ten minutes planning what I would say, but no one came for me. I noticed the guard on duty pass by my window four times on slow patrol. I clenched my fists and reviewed everything I'd planned. My guard passed by again.

Half an hour passed. An hour. I cried out to my guard, but he ignored me. I tried to catch his sleeve as he passed, but he knocked my hand away with a violence that bruised my shoulder against the bars of my window.

I watched the moon rise outside my prison walls. I thought of Isabelle, of the wizard's light green flame prepared to turn the girl to ash. I thought of Lareth, happy and free, waiting for word of my success or failure. I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes and ground my teeth in fury.

I could still do it. The king was an arrogant old fool, surrounded by terrible men. He'd branded me a traitor when I was nothing of the sort. I watched my guard patrol once more past my window and thought how easy it would be to pull the roof down on his head. I extended mystic senses to the stone blocks of my wall and felt the shape of earth within, the tiny beads pressed tight and hard, and saw how easy it would be to scatter them like sand and open a way I could step right through.

Midnight came and went, and still I sat alone and waited. I cursed the Eagle's name. A woman's life hung in the balance. The king's life did as well. If this strike failed, the wizard could send an army next. They'd have a harder time of it than I would have. They would certainly kill more people than I needed to. But they could win. If the king ignored my warning the wizard's men could take him unprepared.

I ground my teeth and stared out at the moon. The man was going to die anyway. I pounded a fist against the stone wall, which only bruised my fist. That was the worst part of it, though. Arrogant as he was, the king was going to die. The wizard would win, with or without my help. If I waited here Isabelle would die as well. And me. I closed my eyes and nodded. They thought me still a murderer. They had no plan to listen to my plea.

I forced a slow and calming breath, but it didn't work. Fury burned deep in my heart. I wanted to do violence. Lareth deserved to die, but the king just barely less. And Othin with him. I turned my hateful gaze back to my door and felt my lips pull back from my teeth. These men could not hold me. I tried to fight it down, to reach for sanity, but rage washed over me like ocean waves, and I could barely even catch a breath.

And then I understood. I felt it, coming not from me but from that spark within my mind. I closed my eyes and drew a breath, and felt the exhilaration and fury of a predator on the prowl. It buzzed in my veins, it put strength in my arms, but it was not my own. I walled it off, forced it back. I reclaimed my mind and felt the bloodlust fade.

Then I reached thoughts toward the spot and asked it, "Vechernyvetr. Is that you?"

My own pet wizard, the dragon answered, its voice deep and distant in my head. Oh, you will enjoy this night. Blood will flow.

"Are you close?" I asked. "I need your help. Right now. Tonight. I call your debt."

Oh, but death is in the air. The words came rich with ecstasy, and I heard a thin, piercing cry far out in the night. Another answered it, and a moment later another. I felt a little pulse of anticipation from the dragon. A gathering of arms like I have never seen, and at its heart a working of man and magic brighter than the sun.

The king. I shivered. "You're drawn to power," I said.

To human power, yes. To scatter and destroy. I'll burn his army to the ground—

"But wait!" I cried. "There is another, worse. The wizard Lareth. The one I told you of. He has a thousand men—"

I see their stain, the dragon said, uninterested. They are a spot beside the sea, a star against the sun. I could feel the thoughts growing stronger as the dragon flew closer. It screamed again, piercing the night, and I imagined I could see it moving against the stars in the middle distance. I taste their fear, it said. A city full of men to set aflame.

My heart began to beat faster. "I'm here," I thought. "Would you destroy me too?"

You're wrapped in stone and steel, the dragon said. I see you. I see your pain and fear. I'll show you better things. I'll show you what it's like to kill and burn.

Violence and blood. I remembered the promise the dragon had made beside the farmer's pond. "Free me," I thought, making it a command. "Tear me from my cage and pay my price. I need your violence and blood."

You would take me from this fight? it asked, disbelief and betrayal behind the words. First let me kill the king! I see him, high above the earth, wrapped in stone that I could tear like leaves, and wrapped in spells that I could shed like water. He will be fun to slay.

Even held at bay, the dragon's bloodlust bubbled in a corner of my soul. I could feel the same pleasure the beast anticipated, the surge of power and pride at crushing out a life that blazed as brightly as the sun. A predator spirit within me wanted to crush the man who had imprisoned me here.

Another colder part of me considered the possibility as well. Let him do what he meant to do. It was a force of nature, not my hand, that would kill the king. It would be enough for Lareth, though. It would be enough to save Isabelle, and no blood on my hands. I only had to wait, which was the only option the king or his Knight-Captain had given me.

Just wait and Lareth would give me my reward. The injustices done me would be settled. I felt the dragon closer still, felt its hunger bright and hot within my mind. Moments yet, and it would be over. Then I could go and claim my prize.

My prize. I thought of Isabelle. Lareth couldn't give me her. No man could offer her. She'd called me her hero, for this. For now. I thought of Themmichus, her brother, who had shown me kindness when no one else would. I thought of Claighan who had brought me into all of this to save the kingdom from pressing darkness. I thought of Joseph, who had brought me back from death and sent me off to save the king. I thought of the chaos that would fall all across the land if the king were to die this night.

I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and stretched my will toward the beast as though it were a breeze I meant to bend. "Come for me," I said. "Leave off the hunt. There's more important work to do."

I pressed against it like a child trying to topple an ancient oak. I could not have forced the dragon with all my might, and yet it budged.

Oh, very well, it said. I sensed a petulance that felt quite out of place in a force of nature, but acquiescence, too. But you must give me blood.

"Oh, there is blood," I thought. My stomach turned at what lay ahead, but I set my jaw and turned toward the south. "There's blood enough to spill."

Then come to me, the dragon said. Come, and we shall fly. With the words I heard the thunder of its wings. It roared outside my cell, and without the strength of dragons in my veins I would have fallen to the earth and cowered. The bellow split the air and rang against the steel bars of my cage. It rumbled in my chest and made me weak.

And others answered. More even than the two I'd heard before. Half a dozen bellows broke the night. "How many are here?" I asked. "Is this the dragonswarm?"

Vechernyvetr answered me with a chuckle that rumbled in my chest like its bellow had. This is not the waking, child. This is half a flight, a tiny hunt. The waking comes, but this is just a taste.

I heard the screams of men. I heard stone shatter and the roar of dragons in full flight. "They'll kill us all!" I cried.

They wouldn't mind, it answered. So come quickly. If we must leave, then let us leave.

"But the city!" I cried. "We can't just leave them to die."

There's soldiers here and wizards enough to give my brothers chase, it said. They can do far more than you.

"I can't just leave—"

Where armies gather, men will die, the dragon said. That much is beyond your control. You decide for you. And for me, tonight. I felt its resentment at that, but it snorted just outside my window and I felt the heat of it through the window. Are you coming, or can I go and kill the king?

I nodded. I took my second sight, and with a thought I tore the outer wall of my cell to sand. I stepped out through the gap and into a dark courtyard lit only by the flicker light of wildfire in buildings nearby. I shook my head. "We cannot let them do this."

We cannot stop them, the dragon said. We can only choose another life to end.

The dreadful words fell like stones into my soul. I shivered once, and set my jaw. I turned my eyes to the south again and nodded. "Lareth," I said. "That man deserves to die."