Clash of Catalysts Page 11

  But she only held on to the image for an instant before it was jolted away by sudden contact with something solid. Her plunge through nothingness had ceased abruptly. She lay facedown, numb from the impact of whatever she had slammed into. The breath knocked from her lungs, it took her a few seconds of gasping to regain it.

  When she had recovered sufficiently, she rolled over and tried to make out where she was. Had the arched gate portaled her to the place she hoped? It was impossible to tell. Her surroundings were nearly as dark as the inky blackness that had enveloped her while she was traveling.

  But there was a difference. Here the nothingness wasn’t infinite. There were tiny pinpoints of distant light high overhead, stars twinkling in the night sky. Of the moon little could be seen, only a faint glow emanating from a slender crescent swathed in dark clouds.

  As her eyes adjusted to the shadows, things began to take shape. Tall blades of grass nodded over her in the gentle evening breeze. She sat upright and saw a stand of trees in the distance. She seemed to be in an isolated spot, with no sign of people. Before she could turn around to take in the rest of the view, a twig snapped behind her, the sound sharp in the empty night.

  Eydis’s hand flew to her belt knife, even as she whirled around. Out of the darkness, two armed men were sneaking up behind her, preparing to pounce. She tensed for the fight. But even as her heart beat faster, she noticed there was something familiar about the lion’s head emblems she could vaguely make out emblazoned on the breastplates of both men. Where had she seen such symbols before? The oracle’s army she had glimpsed through the gazing ball had marched beneath a standard bearing that same crest.

  Taking a calculated risk, Eydis dropped her knife and raised her hands in surrender.

  “I’m a friend, and I’m here in peace,” she declared.

  The soldiers didn’t appear prepared to take her word for it. Never removing their eyes from the prisoner, one swooped in to snatch her knife off the ground, while the other pressed the tip of a sword to her chest. A brief memory flashed through Eydis’s mind of the tower wizard and Server Parthenia, both stabbed through the heart. She was gambling a lot here.

  “I’m a friend,” she repeated. “There’s no cause for violence. If you’re part of the oracle’s army, just take me to her and she can vouch for me.”

  The soldiers exchanged a glance.

  “We don’t take orders from the oracle. We’re under the command of Lord Branimir,” the nearest man informed her. “But if you know the oracle of Silverwood Grove travels with our company, you’ve been watching us.”

  “I’m no spy,” she said, anticipating where this was going. “The oracle knows me to possess magical powers.”

  “What sort of powers?” His voice made his disbelief obvious.

  Eydis drew on her magic and morphed her face into the blunt features of the guard, mirroring his cynical expression.

  The man’s jaw dropped, and he backed away a few steps.

  “I hope you believe me now,” Eydis said, releasing her mask as quickly as she had assumed it. “Our time is limited, and you’re wasting it.”

  The other guard spoke up. “Search her,” he told his companion. “Then we’ll see if she is as good a friend to the oracle as she claims.”

  Eydis hid her relief as he lowered his sword so its tip was no longer resting over her heart. His companion did a quick search for any more weapons concealed about her person. But he was much more respectful now she had shown him a glimpse of her abilities.

  “Is the oracle nearby?” she asked when he had finished.

  “Just over the hill.” He gestured toward a low rise in the distance.

  Eydis glanced that way but swiftly lost interest in the hill and whatever was hidden beyond it. Her attention was caught by another sight, not far distant. The fortress of Endguard.

  * * *

  The camp of Lord Branimir’s army became visible as soon as the sentries brought Eydis over the hill. The rows upon rows of white tents spread out at the foot of the hill, and the multitude of campfires flickering in the night made it seem as if the army was massive. For all their sakes, Eydis hoped it was, hoped the forces of the Raven King couldn’t match it.

  As they descended the hill and entered the camp, they were hailed by more lookouts, who regarded Eydis with suspicion. She couldn’t blame them for their caution. The enemy couldn’t fail to know of this hostile army sitting at its doorstep and might make a stealthy attempt to penetrate its ranks.

  To Eydis’s surprise, it wasn’t the oracle she was taken directly to. Instead, she was escorted to a tent much larger than any others, with a pair of soldiers standing alert at either side of the entrance. One of the men accompanying Eydis spoke to a guard, who disappeared inside. A moment later the guard reemerged. With him came a well-dressed man of middling years. The newcomer had calculating eyes, streaks of gray at his temples, and an air of authority that could only come from a lifetime of giving orders.

  “So you are the magically gifted stranger who’s been spying on my camp?” he asked, sweeping Eydis up and down with a keen gaze. “You don’t look like a walking corpse or a Lostland creature.”

  “That’s because I’m not either,” Eydis replied, keeping her tone firm but respectful. She didn’t need to make an enemy of this man. “I take it you are Lord Branimir?”

  “That is a correct assumption. But I’m more interested in who you are. I’m told you claim to be a friend of the oracle.”

  “It’s true,” she said. “I’ve struggled against Rathnakar since the beginning and have come a long way to join this particular fight.”

  His expression made it unclear whether he believed her. He said, “Very commendable. Then you’ll be happy to know the oracle is nearby and can be quickly summoned to verify your claim.”

  “I welcome that,” she answered.

  “Good.”

  He signaled one of the guards, who departed at a run. Then Lord Branimir invited Eydis to enter his tent to await the oracle’s arrival.

  Sensing it was more of an order than a suggestion, she followed the lord inside. The spacious interior seemed well lit, after the darkness of the night. Lamps were suspended from the canvas roof, casting a golden glow over furnishings much finer than anything the common soldiers outside were likely to enjoy. A luxurious rug covered the floor. There were intricately carved wooden chairs and chests and a bed heaped high with furs.

  Eydis approached a low table with a map spread over its surface. The drawing laid out the surrounding terrain and the outside of the stronghold in careful detail. But the inside of the fortress was left blank, a mystery. Clearly, the map’s maker had no idea what lay within those towering walls.

  Lord Branimir selected a silver decanter off another table and poured himself a goblet of wine.

  Sinking into a large chair, he said, “You realize of course that if the oracle of Silverwood denies your acquaintance, things will go badly for you. We will have no choice but to take you for a spy and my men will do their best to extract information from you. I assure you, they are very good at that.”

  Regarding her over the rim of his goblet, he looked neither pleased nor troubled at the prospect. He was merely stating facts.

  Eydis refused to show fear, saying, “I would expect nothing else.”

  She only hoped her trust in the oracle wasn’t misplaced this time. The seer had proved deceptive and manipulative in the past. But they worked for the same purpose, the defeat of Rathnakar. It was impossible to imagine she would gain anything by denying Eydis and allowing her to be tortured.

  Eydis focused on more constructive thoughts.

  She indicated the map. “I see you have no details on the inside of the fortress.”

  “We were fortunate to acquire the specifics we have. We can expect no more,” he said. “Few have laid eyes on the other side of those walls and lived to tell of it.”

  Before more words could be exchanged, there was a stirring outside, as if man
y feet approached.

  “That will be the arrival of our adored oracle now,” said Lord Branimir, swishing the wine in his goblet with an amused grimace. “She cannot walk the camp without collecting a crowd of followers. My men regard her as a charm of good fortune. Indeed, I’m not sure they would go into this battle without her.”

  The entrance of the tent parted, and the oracle stepped inside. She looked just as she had in Eydis’s glimpse through the gazing ball, the black veil still covering her head and a golden robe still trailing from her shoulders. Back at the temple, she had seemed to glory in simplicity. But here she had laid aside that look in favor of one calculated to inspire awe. Eydis wondered if she regretted the necessity.

  The oracle greeted her without surprise, as if her arrival had been fully anticipated. “You have returned to us on the night before battle,” she observed. “I foresaw it, of course, but not that you would delay for so long.”

  “The delay was not of my making,” Eydis answered. “The wizard made it difficult to depart. In the end, I left him dead.”

  The oracle looked unsurprised. “And the scepter?” she asked. “Did you bring it back with you?”

  “I suspect you know the answer to that question,” Eydis said. “You probably knew even before I did that the scepter was already in the hands of Rathnakar.”

  The oracle didn’t deny it.

  Lord Branimir had been following the exchange with apparent interest, and now he looked concerned.

  “This scepter you failed to obtain, is it anything we need worry about?” he asked.

  The oracle answered before Eydis could. “There is no sense causing a panic,” she said calmly. “Suffice it to say we may soon face more enemies than the ones behind the fortress walls. I believe Rathnakar travels this way with more troops.”

  “We are outnumbered already,” Branimir said gravely. “If the monsters inside the fortress receive reinforcements, we will be doomed. I regret I ever committed to this cause.”

  The oracle flicked a withering glance his way. “Courage, Lord Branimir,” she said. “The battle isn’t over until the last sword stroke. I have hopes yet that mercenary Drejians will soon join us.”

  “You mean the winged warriors and dragons led by Geveral and Keir?” Eydis asked.

  The oracle’s brow rose in surprise, but she didn’t ask how Eydis came by that information. “Yes. They may yet arrive before it is too late.”

  Lord Branimir shook his head. “I will not risk everything on the uncertainty of their arrival. If a second dark army is on its way, we must take the fortress before it arrives or risk being pinned between the two forces. We will prepare for battle at dawn’s first light.”

  He had no sooner spoken then there came a sudden disturbance from outside.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Eydis, the oracle, and Lord Branimir exchanged startled glances at the commotion.

  “What’s happening?” asked Eydis. “A fight?”

  Without awaiting a response, she ducked through the tent flaps and into the night. Through the shadows, she made out a crowd of a dozen or more soldiers hurrying toward Lord Branimir’s tent, dragging three prisoners with them. Two of the prisoners came quietly, but the third, a very short figure, struggled, kicked, and spat so that he had to be half carried by his captors.

  Eydis’s eyes passed quickly over the protesting short man and the dark-haired woman behind him, to settle on a more familiar form. Orrick! The last she had seen of her barbarian friend, he and his companions had been traveling through a wild jungle. What had brought them here? But she knew the answer to that. The same destiny that directed her course had inevitably drawn the betrayer of blood here also.

  She caught Orrick’s eye as the party approached, and he gave her a slight nod. He walked calmly between his captors, while the one-eyed dwarf continued struggling and the gray-skinned female glared furiously at everyone. If Orrick’s companions were surprised and dismayed by their apprehension, it appeared he was not. Could it be he had even planned it?

  “What’s happening here?” Lord Branimir demanded when the prisoners were brought before him.

  The lead soldier answered, “My lord, we captured this Kroadian, dwarf, and vampire slinking around the edges of the camp. Spying for the enemy, most likely. They seem to have only just passed over the border, coming from the Lostlands.”

  Eydis told Branimir, “Your men are quick to assume everyone who crosses their path is a spy. In fact, I can vouch for these people.”

  She pointed to Orrick. “This is Orrick, well-known to both the oracle and me. And these are his companions Arik and…” She hesitated over the dark-haired woman with the glowing eyes.

  The fierce woman spoke up. “My name is Kalina, and I am no spy.”

  “Of course she isn’t,” Eydis continued. “These people are our friends and entirely necessary to our plan.”

  “You have a plan?” Orrick asked easily. He was looking past Eydis to Branimir. “You surprise me. Because from what I’ve seen, your only strategy here is to dig in and pound at the fortress walls for however many days, weeks, or months it takes you to give up, accept that Endguard is impregnable, and go home before your supplies run out and your troops starve.”

  Branimir narrowed his eyes at the criticism. “No doubt you have a better idea, barbarian?”

  “I have,” Orrick said. “There’s a reason Endguard has never been breached by a straightforward siege. The fortress must fall from within.”

  A look of understanding dawned in Branimir’s eyes. “I know your face,” he said. “You are the infamous Kroadian traitor. The one who has eluded capture for so long.”

  Eydis had been hoping Orrick would go unrecognized. The charges against him only complicated things.

  She put in quickly, “Lord Branimir, Orrick is innocent of the crime he was charged with. If he had a chance to tell his side of the story, I’m confident he would convince you of that. But time is in short supply. As it is, I’m sure you can see the advantage of having someone among us who knows what lies within the walls of the enemy stronghold, someone who was there when the fortress fell and may even know how it can be taken back.”

  Branimir frowned as if wrestling with the idea. “Your friend’s expertise in this matter is hardly an argument for trusting him,” he pointed out.

  “No, but here is a better one,” the oracle interrupted. “I have foreseen all possible outcomes for this day, and I say victory cannot be accomplished without the betrayer of blood.”

  * * *

  After the oracle’s statement, decisions were made swiftly. Branimir agreed to postpone judgment on Orrick, as the barbarian appeared necessary to their cause. Both he and Orrick disappeared into the tent to look over the fortress map. Eydis suspected the lord would mine the Kroadian for information on what lay in the unknown space within Endguard’s walls.

  The oracle told Eydis, “I must warn you of something. Walk with me.”

  Without awaiting a response, she swept away into the night.

  Eydis cast a glance at the dwarf and vampire woman, who had been unbound but remained under guard. Branimir had given no instructions on exactly what was to be done with them.

  But there was no time to resolve that. Eydis had no choice but to hurry after the oracle. She could only hope Orrick’s trust in his strange new companions was well placed, because something told her Arik and Kalina were about to become important in whatever happened going forward.

  She joined the oracle in walking through the camp. Despite the mood of urgency hanging over the seer, she was silent awhile. They passed through the tents and the crowds of soldiers gathered around their campfires and made for the darkness beyond. Not until they left behind the circle of light surrounding the camp and entered the quiet solitude at its perimeter did the oracle voice her concern.

  “Rathnakar approaches,” she told Eydis. “I sense him drawing nearer to this place, and when he arrives he will not come alone. He brings monstrous crea
tures he has awakened from the darkness.”

  “You have seen this in a vision?” asked Eydis.

  “Yes. But more than that, I have felt it in the frailty of my mortal form. I cannot hold on to my strength much longer.”

  She seemed to sag before Eydis’s eyes.

  “I don’t understand,” Eydis said. “When you woke from your deep sleep in the temple, you seemed to recover so quickly. I thought you nearly well again.”

  “That is what I meant you to think,” came the answer. “More importantly, it is what I needed Branimir and his people to think. Do you suppose they would have followed me to the gates of Endguard if they observed weakness in me? Their lord may be motivated by greed for my gold, but the soldiers are as much driven by superstition. They take my presence as a sign the First Mother is with them. They believe they can defeat any evil as long as the famed oracle of Silverwood Grove goes before them. The Raven King foresaw as much. That is why he has worked to destroy me.”

  Eydis shook her head. “Destroy you how?”

  “Back in Silverwood, it was not purely exhaustion that drained my powers and brought on my long sleep,” the oracle said. “It was the subtle workings of Rathnakar’s magic. I escaped his power for a time. But I can feel it stirring again now, haunting my waking hours and seeking me out in dreams. The nearer he comes to this place, the more my strength escapes me. Soon…”

  She didn’t finish her sentence. She didn’t need to.

  They returned to the circle of glowing campfires. Eydis escorted the oracle to her tent and urged her to rest and conserve energy for what was to come. She knew she ought to stay at the oracle’s side, guarding her for the remainder of the night. They couldn’t afford to allow any evil to befall the seer. But her own inner turmoil wouldn’t let her sit still. She promised herself she would look in on the oracle again soon. Then she wandered off into the night.