The Witch's Daughter Part 22

"I found him, and his friend-who is now deceased," Mitch.e.l.l explained, his chuckle unnerving even the Black Warlock. "They had camped along the banks of the river, offering an opportunity for pleasure I could not bypa.s.s."

"So you crossed and attacked them."

"And I would have had both of them if that d.a.m.ned witch and her flying horse hadn't saved Belexus."

Thalasi slammed his palms together, releasing a jolt of black energy that blasted the wraith to the ground in a heap. Mitch.e.l.l looked up at the master, fearful respect in his flaming eyes for the first time. He thought himself a doomed and d.a.m.ned thing at that moment, as surely as he had seen his doom when Reinheiser had revealed himself as the new Black Warlock at the bottom of the cliff in Blackamara those twenty years before.

"You revealed yourself to them," Thalasi scolded, but he was calm again, his outrage quickly dissipating as he tried to salvage his plans. "Brielle knows who you are, what you are, and now she will direct attacks against you. I had hoped to reveal you in the final battle over the river, to let King Benador and the others discover their doom even as it fell upon them."

Mitch.e.l.l floated to his feet. "They won't stop us," he declared. "Maybe I should not have crossed, but the thought of catching Belexus, of stealing him so easily from the Calvan effort! I did not forget what that one did at the Battle of Mountaingate. With his strength and his leaders.h.i.+p he can sway a battle as surely as an entire brigade of skilled warriors."

"True enough," the Black Warlock admitted. "The Four Bridges would surely have fallen on the first a.s.sault if it had not been for his efforts. The Calvans rally around him, throw themselves in the path of spears aimed for him."

"His friend, that other ranger, Andovar, is dead," Mitch.e.l.l said, his evil smile returning. "And Belexus is wounded-perhaps he, too, is dead by now. I doubt that he will rejoin the battle anytime soon."

"Do not underestimate the healing powers of Brielle and her forest," Thalasi warned grimly, but he was also wearing an evil smile upon his face. The notion that his wraith had sent the mighty son of Bellerian running in fright amused him profoundly, so much so that he wasn't certain if the cost had been too high.

"I shall make you another steed," he said to the wraith. "But later, when I have the time. You are here now, and you must meet with the talon commanders at once and take immediate command of the army. Summer is slipping from us, and I mean to get to the walls of Pallendara before the first snow."

"We should cross the bridges this week," Mitch.e.l.l agreed.

"Perhaps," replied Thalasi. "But we have many tasks before us."

"Boats," Mitch.e.l.l said.

Thalasi considered the option and nodded, pleased that Mitch.e.l.l was so quickly formulating the plans they would need. "I must leave the mechanics of crossing the river to your judgment," he explained. "It is my task to discern the best way to defeat the witch and Istaahl in Pallendara, or at least hold them at bay. And I must find you the tools to defeat Ardaz, for he has not yet shown himself, but I do not doubt that he shall."

"Then make me the tools," Mitch.e.l.l replied, still grinning. "And worry about the wizard and the wretched witch. I will have the army ready to cross, and at their lead, I will see to the destruction of the Calvan forces."

"Among them, only Ardaz can stand against you," Thalasi declared with all confidence. "And together, we will take care of that one."

Andovar reached out to her, hopelessly begging her to save him. And Rhiannon reached back, stretched her arms out across the misty barrier to catch the doomed man.

But even as her fingers neared the ranger, the cold blackness of death fell over him in an opaque veil so final that even Rhiannon's magic could not penetrate it. The young witch screamed again and again, crying out in hopeless denial.

And Andovar screamed back, a distant cry falling, ever falling, away from Rhiannon.

Away from the world of the living.

Her breath came in loud gasps; the streaked sweat on her forehead loomed stark in the thin moonlight.

And Bryan was by her side. "A dream," he whispered into her ear. "Only a dream."

Rhiannon looked at him for support, took comfort in his touch as though it was some kind of material litany against her inability to grasp the pleading hands of Andovar.

But even as the young witch began to separate the dream from the reality about her, she realized that something was wrong. "Evil," she said to Bryan's concerned look. "There be great evil about this night."

Bryan glanced around, suddenly back on the alert. One hand went to his sheathed sword.

"Not here," Rhiannon a.s.sured him. She let her sixth sense, her witching sense, guide her eyes back to the east and the north, to the talon encampment.

Bryan did not miss the direction of Rhiannon's gaze.

"What happened?" he asked.

Rhiannon shrugged. "An ally of the Black Warlock?" she asked as much as answered. "Some great and powerful evil has entered the battlefield." She groped for words to explain her vague sensations. "Me heart sees a blackness."

Bryan considered her comments and their present position. They had moved deeper into the mountains, but the half-elf knew paths that would get them back to the north-easternmost slopes overlooking the battlefield in merely two or three days. "Do you wish to go back there?" he asked.

Rhiannon wasn't certain how she might help against whatever was causing this insistent, frightening sensation, or what her role in such a large-scale battle might be. But she felt it her duty to go back to the field, as though somehow fate demanded that she be in attendance when the Black Warlock made his move.

"I must," she said to Bryan.

Bryan didn't try to argue. He, too, wondered what his final place in all of this might be. He had carved a fine niche thus far, but when all was over, his contribution to the overall effort would not be so dramatic, particularly if the Black Warlock proved victorious.

"We will set out in the morning," he agreed. "But for now, get some sleep. The trails ahead will not be easy marching."

Rhiannon squeezed his arm in thanks, then slipped back to her blanket bed. But she would find no more sleep that night, not with the vision of Andovar falling into darkness so clear in her thoughts.

And not with her suspicion that this evil she now sensed was somehow connected to Andovar's death.

The talons were no more comfortable around the wraith of Mitch.e.l.l than they were around the Black Warlock himself. But like Thalasi, Mitch.e.l.l incited more than enough terror in the beasts to persuade them to follow his every command. He met with the leaders that very night and laid the groundwork for the effort needed to get them across the river.

When the bright summer sun climbed into the sky the next morning, the wraith took shelter under the thick folds of a tent. But the 268talons went to work, organizing their troops into divisions and setting them about the tasks that General Mitch.e.l.l had outlined.

Across the river, King Benador and his commanders watched with growing concern as all of the wood the talons could gather-deserted wagons, walls of buildings, even uprooted trees-was brought to the northern corner of the encampment.

"It seems that our enemies have found some direction to their meandering ways," the King remarked to an adviser at his side.

The other man scanned the entirety of the camp, his eyes falling on battle formations that several groups of talons were practicing. "The wedge," he remarked pointedly, surprised that the untrained things even knew of such advanced tactics. "We might find them better prepared the next time they decide to storm the bridges."

"A few days of practice." Benador shrugged. "It will not stand up against the lifelong dedication of the Warders of the White Walls. Alas for the talons, the result will be the same."

Benador's confidence did much to boost the spirits of those around him, but even the determined King had to pause in concern a short time later. For by the day's end, many boats had already been constructed.

Chapter 22.

Bells and Horns DAY AFTER DAY King Benador watched the activity across the river with growing concern. The talons seemed more of an army now, not just a collection of bloodthirsty killers. Someone or something was putting them in line and giving them the discipline they needed to strike out effectively against the Calvan army. And while the numbers of Benador's camp continued to grow daily as volunteers found their way in from all across eastern Calva, the talon army swelled even more. On a single day a troop of several thousand flowed in from the Baerendels, all eager to join the Black Warlock in his glorious conquest. King Benador watched the activity across the river with growing concern. The talons seemed more of an army now, not just a collection of bloodthirsty killers. Someone or something was putting them in line and giving them the discipline they needed to strike out effectively against the Calvan army. And while the numbers of Benador's camp continued to grow daily as volunteers found their way in from all across eastern Calva, the talon army swelled even more. On a single day a troop of several thousand flowed in from the Baerendels, all eager to join the Black Warlock in his glorious conquest.

Benador and his troops kept the pressure on the talons constantly. Several times each day, brigades of cavalry rushed out over the bridges, trampling whatever defenses the talons had hastily erected and cutting down as many of the wretched beasts as they could before they were forced to retreat. Lately, though, the talons had found ways to counter the attacks, and the cost in soldiers for the excursions continued to escalate. And with Rhiannon gone, Siana had to work all the day through tending to the wounded.

But if the King's hopes had started to wane throughout the remainder of that third week at the river, they were brought back tenfold one bright and s.h.i.+ning morning.

"Let our ride be strong and proud," Arien said to Bellerian and Belexus at his side. "Let the shake of the earth and the winding of our horns announce our arrival this morn. And let the Calvans take heart and the talons pale in fright!"

Bellerian grasped the elven Eldar's outstretched hand as Belexus pulled out his great horn and winded the first call, and with that clear, strong note, the charge of the elves and the rangers was on.

The sudden blast of a hundred horns brought the Calvan camp awake, and sent Benador scrambling for the flap of his tent, thinking that the talons had launched their expected attack. But by the time the King got outside, he understood the truth of the disturbance, for the trumpeters of the Calvan camp took up a resoundingly joyful answer.

And then came the bellsong of the elven steeds, dancing in the joyful melody with the pounding of hooves. Benador clenched his fists, a determined grimace on his face, when he saw them break across the northern horizon, half a thousand elves and their escort of mighty rangers. Around the King, the Calvan camp erupted in cheers and shouts, and soldiers rushed out to greet the newcomers.

Once, under the rule of an unlawful king in Pallendara, these peoples, elf and human, had been mortal enemies, but now the Calvans recognized the arrival of Arien Silverleaf and his kin as their possible salvation. Many of the older Calvan soldiers had witnessed the elves in battle, and their prowess with horse, sword, and bow was nothing short of legendary.

Across the river the talons, too, watched the arrival of the children of Lochsilinilume, and under the shade of one tent, red dots of fire looked out to survey the scene. The wraith of Hollis Mitch.e.l.l only smiled when he realized it was Arien Silverleaf who had come on the scene, another of his enemies from his previous journey through this world of Aielle.

Confident that the elves would not change the course of the coming battle, Mitch.e.l.l viewed their arrival as a convenience, allowing him to defeat even more of his enemies in this single sweep.

The wraith's evil grin only widened when he learned that the rangers, Belexus included, accompanied the elves.

"It is good that you have come," Benador said to Arien and Bellerian a short time later, after the initial commotion had died away. He and the two leaders had retired to his tent to lay their plans. "There has been a change in the talon camp-more organization and purpose to their movements. I fear they might strike soon."

"The Black Warlock has raised a new commander," Bellerian explained. "And a monster that one is, a wraith from the netherworld come to lead the horde o' talons against us."

The King took the news stoically. "I had suspected as much," he said. "For no talon could have made such changes in the encampment so quickly, and the Black Warlock has not shown such understanding for battle tactics thus far."

"The wraith will be a formidable opponent," said Arien. "He was called Hollis Mitch.e.l.l in his former life, one of the ancient ones who fell soon after the Battle of Mountaingate. Once, he was a commander in his own world and quite learned in the ways of warfare, beyond our experience. You will not find obvious mistakes in his tactics, I fear."

A grim expression pa.s.sed over Benador's face, but it faded quickly. "But Mitch.e.l.l will find few holes in our defenses," the King replied, his smile genuine above his firm-set jaw. "With the joining of the elves and rangers, we have the strength and skill to repel the talons. The defense of the bridges will not falter."

"Ayuh," agreed Bellerian, and he took the hand of this king who had been as a son to him for so very long. Then he turned his gaze, with Arien and Benador, toward the tent flap as his birth son entered, grim-faced.

"The witch's daughter is gone," Belexus said bluntly, and all eyes turned on Benador for an explanation.

"She is safe," Benador a.s.sured them, "though I fear that her heart will be long in mending."

"Andovar," Belexus reasoned. "She knew of Andovar."

"It is true, then," Benador remarked.

"It is," replied Belexus. "He fell to the wraith on our journey to the north."

"Then my fears are justified," the King said softly. "I knew that it would not be wise to doubt the guess of Rhiannon, but I had held out hope in my heart that she was mistaken."

"A great loss to us all," Bellerian put in. "But where is the daughter of Brielle, then? Her value to our cause canno' be undervalued."

"I knew not where she went," Benador admitted. "But I could not stop her going, and I know with all certainty that Rhiannon's role in this war is not yet through. She has trained another healer in her absence, a young la.s.s who has performed admirably these last few days."

"Siana of Corning," said Belexus. "I have spoken with the girl and seen her at her work. But she would no' tell me o' the going of Rhiannon."

"Nor would Siana tell me," said Benador. "And I did not press her on the point; I claim no rank over the daughter of Brielle and would not hinder her choice, whatever it might be."

"A wise course," said Bellerian. "Me and me kin have lived for many years trustin' in the Emerald Witch, and I dare say that her daughter's also deservin' of that trust. Wherever Rhiannon's got herself to, not to be doubtin' that she'll help out in the best way she can."

That was all that could be said, but for Belexus, feeling almost like a father to the witch's daughter, mere words could not bring him any measure of comfort. He had seen firsthand the awesome power of Rhiannon, but he had seen, too, the young woman's vulnerability. The loss of Andovar would weigh heavily upon her innocent shoulders and might drive her to desperation.

But like the others, Belexus could only hope and trust in the decisions of the young witch.

They spent many hours in Benador's tent, laying out defensive strategies and playing through, with paper and ink, possible scenarios of a talon attack across the bridges. They all agreed that the next move belonged to Thalasi. With summer nearing its end, time was on their side, and they had no desire to risk defeat in their own offensive strike. They would continue their tactics of hit-and-run, but if a major battle was to be fought, the Black Warlock would have to initiate it.

Of the Black Warlock himself and his undead commander, the leaders could only put their hope in their own magicusers; in Brielle and Istaahl, and Ardaz, if that one could ever be found.

And in Rhiannon, Belexus reminded them all, if the young witch had truly come into her power.

The concern of the four battlefield commanders had to be the containment of the vast talon forces. If Morgan Thalasi managed to defeat their wizards, all of their horn blowing and sword wielding, however valiant, would be for naught.

But the mood of the council was not dark. Their armies were trained and fearless, and fighting under a combination of leaders-Benador, Belexus, Arien Silverleaf, and Bellerian-heretofore unrivaled in the history of Aielle. Each of these heroes held faith in the others, and they believed that together they could weather the tide of Thalasi, however dark.

"The elves have joined," Thalasi said to Mitch.e.l.l when the wraith emerged just before sunset.

"I watched," Mitch.e.l.l replied. "Are you afraid?"

Thalasi's hideous cackle scared away several nearby talons. "It only puts all of the pigeons in one pot," he answered. "I fear not mortals; they cannot defeat me."

"But talons feel the bite of sword," Mitch.e.l.l reminded him. "You have erred, my master. You should have struck with a separate force to the north in the very beginning to keep Arien Silverleaf and his elven kin in their valley."

Thalasi's scowl showed that he didn't appreciate being reprimanded by his subordinate. "It will not matter in the end," he declared. "The world will be mine, wherever Arien and his kin might stand against us, wherever they might fall before us! In the end, they will prove insignificant."

"We will take them," Mitch.e.l.l agreed. "But twice the pleasure to take them in their sheltered valley, to stain the silver trees and the enchanted mountainsides with elven blood. I think I might use Illuma when I am lord of all the land as a restful retreat from my duties in Pallendara."

For all of his arrogance, Thalasi liked the way Mitch.e.l.l was thinking. "We will rule from the white city," he agreed. "And all the world shall be yours for the choosing. All except for one spot that I reserve as my own."

"And that is?"

"Avalon," the Black Warlock replied, a low feral growl escaping his lips at the mere mention of the forest. "Of all the places, of all the fortresses, in all the world, none can stand against me as mightily as the wood of Brielle. But it will all change, so very soon. I am growing stronger, my wraith. With you in command of the talons, I can focus my energies and seek greater depths of my magical power. Soon Brielle and Istaahl will be no match for my strength; my storms will ravage their homes and I will banish them from the world!"

"And the third wizard?" Mitch.e.l.l asked, his fiery eyes simmering at the thought of dealing with that one.

"We will defeat Ardaz," Thalasi promised. "I will give to you darkness to match his light, to hold his power back from our a.s.sault. And when our talons have crossed the river, when the armies of Calva and Illuma are smashed and Brielle and Istaahl are no more, Ardaz will have to stand alone against us."

"I almost pity him," Mitch.e.l.l snickered. But there was not a trace of pity in his grating voice.

Thalasi's cackle erupted again, chiming in with Mitch.e.l.l's for several savored moments. "When will we be ready?" the Black Warlock asked, unconsciously rubbing his bony hands together.

"We are ready," Mitch.e.l.l a.s.sured him. "And every day we grow more ready. We could go tomorrow to victory, but there remain two problems."

"Ardaz has not yet shown himself," Thalasi reasoned.

Mitch.e.l.l nodded. "And I find my power diminished by the light of the sun. We could strike at them in the dark of night, but I do not know how the organization of the talons would hold up. The stupid things would probably get lost and land their boats miles to the south, leaving their comrades stranded on the bridges."