Dragonoak: Gall and Wormwood, page 49
“But there is only so much a regular person can do to assist a healer. Needless to say, scrubbing the blood off tables and floors alike was not my true calling. Perhaps I am being unfair: ploughing the fields and sending off carts of bitterwillow to market was not my true calling, either. In that way, my brothers were no better off.
“I wish there could be a dramatic backdrop to this part of the story. Yin Zhou came to my mother's clinic, dragging a loyal but battered crewmember with her, in need of healing; she caught me sneaking from my bedroom window one night and watched as I pulled my makeshift bowstring taut and let loose an arrow with such precision and raw talent that she employed my help immediately; that sort of thing. Sadly, it was not so.
“If there was a particular reason for her noticing me, it was because I was terribly oblivious. I didn't have the slightest idea who the woman in the long, flowing coat was, and so approached her freely and asked if she was lost. I had heard of a woman like Yin Zhou on the lips of other children, but in my household we did not discuss women like Yin Zhou. To me, she was but a traveller from a distant land, and the most I hoped for was that she might have an interesting tale to tell.
“Humouring me, she asked how she might reach Chandaran. The roads had changed since last she'd visited, she said. Delighted by the prospect of doing something other than scrub floors, I drew her a wonderfully detailed map and asked if she would like a guide. Yin Zhou asked how much I meant to charge, and so as not to appear overly eager, I said that she would pay for my meals and buy me new bow in Chandaran's sprawling markets.
“A deal was struck. We travelled to the capital in her carriage, though it would've been just as easy to take a boat along the Qart. My father's field edged onto the water, as you might well imagine, but Yin Zhou said she missed solid ground. She asked me what I did for a living and I told her. She asked if I enjoyed it and I confessed that I did not. Having been honest with her, I expected something in return.
“I asked where she was from. Yhoua, she said. I asked her if it was true that the land was frozen and that people taller than the dragon-born roamed it, and she said that she was not so tall as to be unable to join me in the carriage, was she? I did not make such a mistake for a second time.
“The journey was a pleasant one. I had always eaten well, but Yin Zhou had her meals made with spices so unfamiliar to my tongue I felt my mind expand at the mere taste of them. We made camp of a night and she had all her companions and guards lay out their weapons for me to inspect. She would tell me several differing tales about each dagger or arrowhead and had me tell her which I thought to be true. She never told me if I was right or wrong. That was of no consequence to her.
“In Chandaran, she took me to the finest bowyer the city had to offer. We spent the day picking out wood for the riser and limbs, designs for the intricate metal patterning, and the right sort of bowstring. I forgot that Yin Zhou had gone to Chandaran for some reason other than to have a bow commissioned for me. To this day, I still do not know why she went to the capital. If she attended to any business, she did it while my back was turned.
“We travelled back to my home. I did not enjoy the journey back as much as I had the journey away from the little town. The moment the carriage rolled to a stop amongst the achingly familiar buildings, Yin Zhou put an arm around me and said, ‘Atalanta, child. Do not stay if you do not wish to.’ I did not even pack a bag. I left with a handful of farewells called from the carriage window and grinned as my father stormed out of the house, demanding to know where I’d been those last few days.
“I learnt to speak Yhouan on the ship south. Yin Zhou let me into her chambers of an evening and plied me with more books than I thought possible to ever read and once we reached the shores of a far-off continent, she showed me more cultures than I believed could exist. Under her tutelage, I could identify antiques of real worth by the age of fourteen. By fifteen I could shoot a person between the eyes from the deck of one ship to another.
“By sixteen I could sense betrayal as I imagine death calls to you, Rowan. For ten years, I stayed close to her side. I was not always with her, but I always worked for her. It was a curious thing: I was part antique-collector, part assassin. I have seen regimes older and stronger than Felheim fall at Yin Zhou’s command and have had the honour of seeing some of the most beautiful pieces of art ever created.
“I returned to Canth in my late twenties. I took on work for Queen Nasrin’s father, bringing in the criminals that had offended him so personally, and proved myself more valuable than any of his men. Not that he ever did much more than prop them up with ornate weapons they had little idea how to use. I got to know Queen Nasrin, at this time. She was but a girl, and had not yet been exiled from the palace. Each time I visited, I took stories with me, and left books her father would have burnt to keep away from her beneath her pillow.
“And that was how I first infiltrated the royal family,” Atalanta concluded. “Perhaps on that first visit to Chandaran, Yin Zhou had been looking for a way to get into the palace and had the luxury of time. Perhaps that was my intended purpose all along. Who can say?”
I’d been enjoying the story, up until that point.
“Infiltrated…?” I asked cautiously.
Varn, who’d listened as though she’d never heard the story before and needed to drink down every word, broke out into laughter and slapped my back.
“Once you start working for Yin Zhou, you’re working for her forever. What, you think it’s a coincidence that Lanta ended up as Queen Nasrin’s guard?” Varn asked. When I stared at her blankly she tugged me close, and in an exaggerated whisper said, “She’s an assassin!”
Atalanta winked at me.
“Not that I don’t fully believe in Queen Nasrin and the work she does,” she added, hand on her heart. “Were I to assassinate her, it would be for the good of Canth; and if she was no longer acting in Canth’s best interest, she would no longer be Queen Nasrin. In that way, I can never truly kill her.”
“Also,” Varn added, “She’s married to Kondo-Kana. That makes Lanta’s life a bit more difficult.”
“This got really weird,” I said, and left them to grin at each other.
Varn hadn’t kept her face covered for long. Once the battle started I expected her to pull off all the unnecessary armour and charge in, mace and spear swinging.
I said nothing more. None of us did. Rylan’s army rose against the horizon, dark and jagged. It was unlike the time I had first approached Kyrindval and seen the mountains rise. There was no awe in my chest. Only a profound sinking in my stomach. Our soldiers were laid out in grids, easily two thousand stretching east to west, but there weren’t enough.
Rylan’s soldiers marched towards us, slow and steady. Even from a distance they overwhelmed us. Ash and Goblin barked orders, sending our squadron into place, and I ran to the front, where Akela and Kidira had gathered. Kidira had a horse for me. She gestured to a foot soldier to let go of the reins and let me climb atop.
“You have a plan, don’t you?” I asked Akela.
She didn’t take her eyes off Rylan’s army. Her jaw tensed, her chest rose and fell deliberately, and after a moment she said, “Seven-thousand.”
Kidira hummed.
“I am having a plan. I am always having a plan,” Akela murmured. “Today my plan is being: I am listening to Kidira when she says that it is being alright. I am trusting her. It is being twelve years and she is never letting me down.”
Kidira nodded in approval of herself.
“This army would’ve been nothing. We would’ve wiped it from the territories, thirty years ago,” Kidira said, eyes narrowing to pick out Katja’s indiscernible form from a thousand other faceless soldiers. “But the former Kastelir is weakened. I am surprised they gathered so many. I expect at least a third are Agadians. But Felheim is no better off. They outnumber us almost four-to-one.”
“Varn and Atalanta are back there. That might help,” I said.
Akela cracked a smile.
With that, I started to believe that there was a way out of this.
Rylan’s army moved closer. Akela raised a horn and we began to march as the sound filled the air.
I gripped the horse’s reins tightly and my shield bumped against my knees as he moved at a canter. I should’ve said goodbye to Claire. What was she doing now? Standing in the centre of Thule with Eden and Alex at her side, telling the people that we would win this battle, even though her phoenix had abandoned her? I looked to the sky for Haru-Taiki, thinking that his fire was the only thing that could save us now, but nothing but grey clouds passed overhead.
We stepped close enough to see the details in the banners Rylan’s soldiers held. I reached out through the masses but felt nothing. Halla should’ve been there, blazing with light, held out not as a warning but a promise of what was to come.
But she was not there. The sun broke through the clouds and the only thing that gleamed was polished armour and sharpened blades. I knew immediately that they had no necromancer with them. It had never been anything more than a rumour. A way to bring me to the front lines.
Which meant Katja was out there. I could not feel her across the gulf between us because she didn’t want me to.
“Rylan’s army, they are spending a long time moving. But they are not stopping for as long as they are needing to. They are rushing, yes? They are not resting. I am thinking, all of them, they are already exhausted, yes? If they are being slow, if their reflexes are not as sharp as their swords are being, this is helping us. Our soldiers, they are living in Thule. They are getting lots of sleep – too much, if I am being honest, I am complaining to them about this all the time – and eating as much as I am, some days,” Akela murmured to herself. “We are having more people. We are having our archers in the hills, and they are attacking from behind. That is helping. Claire, she is clever, she is keeping soldiers in the city, in case Rylan, he is making it that far. If we are needing them, they are coming. If we are letting them charge first, they are crashing against our spears and—”
“Akela Ayad. If I did not believe that you could win this battle the both of us would have retired to Canth months ago,” Kidira said, finally breaking her gaze away from the opposing army. “Now: focus.”
Akela held her gaze for a long moment and nodded sharply. Holding out an arm, she waited for our banner to be placed against her palm. She gripped it as though it was stronger than any weapon. She charged her horse up and down our front lines and waved Claire’s phoenix-flag above her head.
Our soldiers beat their fists against their shields and stomped against the ground. What started as a rumble grew into a roar, and the clamour Akela caused was the only thing to get our blood pumping and blind us to the truth.
There were too many of them.
No matter what Akela had planned, no matter how many soldiers we had hidden, waiting to catch them off-guard, Rylan had the same safety measures in place, too. We were not the only ones capable of strategizing and scheming. We were not the only ones with something to lose. If we could’ve won, we would’ve had all our soldiers on the front lines.
There was no use telling myself that we wouldn’t be there if we couldn’t win. The other option was to sit and wait in the castle and let Rylan take the crown. We couldn’t do that. We couldn’t do nothing.
It was up to me. It was up to me to bring back every one of our soldiers who fell. It was up to me to be able to tell their corpses apart from Rylan’s soldiers.
I closed my eyes. The pounding of footsteps grew louder and louder, entwining with the roar from Rylan’s army. This was my fault. Yin Zhou was willing to give me an army and I had ensured Kondo-Kana didn’t allow it, all because I could not stand to do the woman a single favour.
Light sparked at my fingertips, glowing through the leather of my gloves.
This was it. We were moving and Rylan’s army was going to crash down on us like a tidal wave.
I could do it, I told myself. I could raise our army from the dead. I could let them remain themselves, let them fight another day.
And Claire would forever be known as the Queen who had needed a necromancer to use an army of the recently risen to defend Thule and her throne. That’s how history would forever remember her.
I tugged my horse’s reins, urging him forward. Our army held out their spears, waiting for Rylan’s army to clash against the honed blades, and I was ready. Light trailed from my eyes, escaping my helmet. Akela’s axe was already at her side, and somewhere behind us, Varn was grinning enough for it to hurt.
Our armies clashed. Rylan’s soldiers, disposable for their vast numbers, crashed against our spears. Agadians, Felheimers and former Kastelirians alike met their end with a sickening crack of wet thunder only I could hear.
Our archers appeared on cue and sent forth a volley. More and more of Rylan’s soldiers fell before the order to raise their shields could be issued, but it didn’t matter. For all the lives that had been taken, for all the death I felt in its enormity and individuality, there were still too many of them.
We had played our hand. We had used the element of surprise and in doing so let Rylan know we had no more tricks up our sleeves. The remaining soldiers, spurred on by the loss of their companions, drew their swords and held up crossbows, ready to punch through our armour as easily as they’d broken through a pane’s tough, leathery scales.
Akela and Kidira ground to a halt in front of me. They looked at each other and their thoughts echoed mine: this was it.
Rylan’s soldiers were going to overwhelm us but Akela would not, could not, issue the order to retreat.
I couldn’t watch her die. I couldn’t watch any of them die.
But swords were clashing against swords all around me and the exhaustion of Rylan’s army had been an empty hope.
Someone swung at me and I barely remembered to raise my shield to deflect it. Only the soldiers on their front lines had broken through and the rest of the army towered over us.
I looked to the sky. I prayed, for the first time in my life, for something to happen. I prayed for Isjin to give me a sign that she existed. I prayed for rain, for snow, for lightning, for something to tear the battlefield apart.
And as Rylan’s generals sounded their horns and spurred their soldiers on to certain victory, the grey clouds parted and the army began to attack itself.
CHAPTER XXVII
Akela was ten steps ahead of everyone else.
She didn’t stop to ask what was happening or why the army had turned on itself. The reason behind it didn’t matter: an opportunity was an opportunity. Grabbing the horn from her hip, she poured all of her urgency into it, and our soldiers moved forward as the sound filled the air, pushing the squabbling army back.
Spears were thrown from horseback and arrows tore through the air. Rylan – it had to be Rylan, clad in dragon-bone armour as he was – sent out signals of his own. The tail of his army understood the low, bellowing note and cut itself off in an effort to retreat. Our soldiers knew better than to give chase. There were still thousands of soldiers left behind and the fact that they were fighting each other didn’t mean that they wouldn’t turn on us, too.
Hooves beat against the ground. Arrows stuck throats with a thwuck and swords clattered against shields and plate armour. A man on horseback headed straight for me, lance held out, and I did what I could to avoid being speared through the chest: I fell to the side, hitting the ground with a bone-breaking crunch. I hissed as the splintered shards healed over and one of Rylan’s soldiers, one of the soldiers who’d turned against their own army, struck the man’s chest where two pieces of armour met awkwardly. His blade sunk deep into the soldier as his horse charged off.
“Get back!” the soldier called.
But there was no getting back, no escaping it. Soldiers from three sides surrounded me and bodies already littered the ground. I was aware of every wound as keenly as though I’d struck them. Every swing of a sword that met flesh left a bright trail in my blind spot and every time a blade went clean through someone’s ribs, boulders crashed against my chestplate.
I ran through the battlefield raising soldiers. Our soldiers, Rylan’s soldiers, the third army’s soldiers; it didn’t matter. I darted between the bodies, tearing my hands through the air as I ripped death out of them, ducked under lances and weaved around swordfights. My shield was barely attached to my arm and I held it in front of me as I went, not needing to see where I was going when a chain of the dead was laid out in front of me.
It took me whole minutes to realise that the third army wasn't attacking ours. They were purposely staying back, swinging maces at Rylan’s soldiers and holding up their weapons whenever any of our soldiers came close. I watched one of them have a spear pushed through his throat, and when two of his companions caught him by the arms as the blood in his mouth drowned the life out of him, I plastered a hand against his throat and closed the wound.
The soldiers thanked me, grinning as though they already knew what I was.
I didn't have time to think anything of it. I moved on but couldn't avoid a fight for long. Rylan's army might've been cut in two but half of seven-thousand was still a formidable force. I revived another draped in Claire's colours and found three soldiers standing over me, swords held high. I jumped to the side with my heart in my throat, dodging the first blow with my shield and enduring the second in the side of my arm, blade dug deep.
I stumbled back, hissing and healing, and from horseback, the swing of a spear knocked two soldiers clean off their feet. Kidira pushed the blade cleanly into the third soldier's face as she bolted past. Tugging on her reins, she turned sharply and charged past me again. I grabbed her arm when she held it out, feet dragging through the dirt before she managed to haul me up.
