Chapter 60: On the inside
When someone makes themselves an enemy to you, sooner or later you cannot ignore it. Despite your best efforts, it will come to conflict. Be ready when it happens, or you will pay the price for your benevolence.
-Wrend
“Faster!” Wrend shouted to his paladins. “Enter the cave and kill the heretics!”
He churned his legs in the water, and his sword and shield pumped at his sides. If only he’d kept his horse, like Teirn had, he could’ve stayed ahead of his brother.
Although the rebels had disappeared into the mouth of the cave, arrows flew in a stream out of the dark opening. Most bounced away from the paladins' shields; dozens of shafts already floated in the water. The paladins had nearly reached the cave, but Teirn, on his horse, had passed their rear ranks, entering the thickest part of the mist with his shield held ahead and his sword back and ready for a swing.
He would reach the cave first.
Wrend redoubled his effort, lifting his legs high and fast through the water. He heard the words of the Master again, like whispering in his ear: This is your task. You need to do this. No matter what obstacles are in your way—no matter who tries to stop you—you need to do this.
What kind of mad test was this, to pit brother against brother and to slaughter women and children? Wrend wanted to be done with it, to get away from it.
But he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t disobey the Master. He’d been raised from his cradle to live in obedience.
Teirn reached the mound of rocks in front of the cave, and his horse began to clamber over them. He kept his head low, close against his mount’s neck. Arrows sheeted from the cave. Several of them bounced off of Teirn’s shield, but others found place inside the horse’s body. It reared up and squealed. Teirn tried to dismount, but couldn’t move fast enough as the horse toppled backward into the water.
The horse convulsed. Teirn struggled to get free. Water splashed up around them. The paladins from both sides of the lake converged on the cave, pouring over the barricade of rocks and into the rain of arrows. A chorus of thuds—arrowheads striking bodies and shields—filled the air, and a few of the paladins faltered. But none halted.
Wrend headed for the thrashing mess of horse and man in the shallow water. Teirn’s curses rose over the sound of the waterfall and splashing soldiers, and as the horse became still he stumbled up from the water to sit on one of the rocks. The broken shaft of an arrow stuck out of one thigh. He’d dropped his shield and sword.
Paladins hollered as the dark cave swallowed them.
Wrend halted, seized by indecision. He needed to do this thing, but his brother sat there on a rock, screaming as he clutched at his wounded leg. Two weeks before, Wrend wouldn’t have questioned what to do. He wouldn’t even have hesitated.
And that made his decision for him.
He leapt toward Teirn, past the now-still horse and the blood coloring the water. He sheathed his sword and threw down his shield. Water covered everything. The mist made the air thick and foggy.
“Let me help,” he said.
As he reached Teirn, holding out his hands to offer assistance, his brother roared and surged at him, shoving him back and away. The rage in his face startled Wrend just as much as the push, and he fell away. The water cushioned his fall and rushed up his chest; he sat there almost up to his neck, staring up at his brother. His sword, belted on at his waist, bent at an awkward angle, the pommel jabbing his ribs.
Teirn stood above him, his shoulders heaving as he glared down. Drops of water from the splashing rose up around him, mixing with the fine mist. Behind and above Teirn, the cliffs gleaned. The black streaks running down them made it look like they wept. Teirn clenched his fists, so his arms trembled. He bared his teeth and screamed a wordless roar at Wrend.
Wrend knew if Teirn had held a sword, he would have used it to chop off Wrend’s head.
His paladins continued to funnel into the cave. Teirn fell back on the rock, clutching at the shaft with both hands, and yanked. Even over the commotion and his brother’s scream, Wrend heard the tearing of flesh.
Indignation overcame Wrend, dropping a red sheet over the world. He found his feet and lunged at Teirn, who rose to meet the attack. Their bodies collided. Wrend had the greater momentum, and pushed Teirn back to his sitting position on the rock. He knocked Teirn’s hands away and slammed his fist into Teirn’s jaw. He struck again and connected with Teirn’s ear. Teirn’s head and body flew back, striking a rock.
Wrend’s soldiers finished entering the cave, and the shouts and cries of battle echoed out of the darkness. Teirn’s paladins had also reached the entrance and swarmed around Wrend and Teirn. None of them stopped. They didn’t pause to help Teirn or to pull Wrend away. Water splashed around them; like Wrend’s paladins, they yowled, brandishing their weapons as they poured over the rocks.
Wrend halted his barrage of fists to look up, to make sure he didn’t get trampled.
The pause gave Teirn enough respite that he thrust his open palms against Wrend’s chest with a strength compounded by Thew. Wrend’s chest compressed. Air rushed from his lungs. He lifted up and away from Teirn, flying back through the air. Teirn stood, his face contorted in rage, and turned toward the cave as Wrend landed in the water, past the horse.
Again, the water cushioned his fall, but here the water was deeper, and he sunk up past his head. He kept thinking he would hit the bottom at any moment, but sunk and sunk. Water rushed into his ears and nose as he became immersed.
He flailed his arms and legs, and his heels hit the dirt. He righted himself and stood, gasping for air as he came out of the water that went up past his belly. He wiped the liquid from his stinging eyes and tightened his arms and legs against shivering forced by the frigid water.
Teirn had leapt over the rocks and joined his paladins in the cavern entrance. The cliff hung far enough over the cave, protected it from light so well, that as paladins stepped into the darkness it swallowed them instantly. Teirn glanced back at Wrend with a somber face as he disappeared into the blackness.
Wrend focused on his discernment. He should’ve used his Ichor all along, but hadn’t even thought of it—it was still too new to him and things had happened so quickly, he hadn’t even thought of it until Teirn’s blow. He bound and applied Thew to his legs and started forward through the water, running as hard as he could. He waded around the dead horse and through the red water to the edge of the rocks. He leapt up and over them and followed the paladins toward the darkness. The last of them entered just ahead of him, and as he stepped through that wall of blackness, it was like stepping into another world.
It would only take a few moments for him to regret entering the cave at all.