Dragonoak: Gall and Wormwood, page 50
“Okay, that's the second time you've saved me,” I said, forcing air back into my lungs as I gripped Kidira's shoulders. “You have really good timing.”
“We need to get to the root of this,” Kidira said. She only cared for my thanks when I didn't give it. “Be on the lookout for a leader.”
One of Rylan's soldiers rushed straight at us and I threw my shield, hitting him hard enough in the face to knock him clean off his horse.
“… Good aim,” Kidira conceded.
“There!” I called, pointing over her shoulder. There was a soldier on horseback, pulled away from the fighting, holding a horn of his own. Others were looking towards him for guidance, forming a wall around him, and Kidira passed her spear to me as her horse sprinted towards the man.
Rylan's soldiers rushed blindly at us and I used the blunt side of the spear to beat them back. I was grateful for all cargo I'd hauled aboard boats in Canth; my arms were as strong as any seasoned soldier’s.
As we drew closer, the soldiers from the third army that had formed a barricade stepped back when their leader raised a hand and called to let us pass.
“Kidira!” he bellowed. “Rowan!”
Kidira's horse skidded to a stop and in an instant, the man was no longer the faceless leader of a nameless army. He pulled his helm off and there was Atthis, draped in Rylan's armour.
It'd been months since I'd seen him but years since Kidira had last set eyes on him. She froze for as long as the battlefield would allow, and slid from the horse to clasp his armoured hand in her own.
“Rowan was just saying something about good timing,” Kidira said. “We need to force them to surrender.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Atthis – Atthis! – said, finding a reason to smile as three – two – armies clashed. “Gods. How long has it been since we found ourselves here? It almost feels as though it was only yesterday.”
“Your hair was not grey then,” Kidira said. “Sound every horn your soldiers have. Let it be known that we will accept full surrenders. No more blood need be shed.”
Atthis caught my eye as he pulled his helm back on. Atthis. He was right there, back from the dead, and I'd played no part in it. I didn't know what to say; I didn't know how to speak. He smiled at me but there was no missing the guilt etched into the expression.
Explanations would have to wait. Kidira and I headed straight for Akela, who was never difficult to find. She'd abandoned her horse in favour of fighting on the ground, covered in blood and sweat. Kidira called out to her once there was no chance of distracting her from someone's blade, and though she barely heard anything Kidira said, Akela understood enough to sound the horn at her hip.
She sent out short, sharp cries. Ash raised her own horn from across the battlefield, helping spread the sound far and wide. They had planned for this; there was a code hidden in it. Those still on horseback began to bellow that no executions would follow surrenders, and though the fight dragged on for another hour, it was running on nothing but the fumes of the dead bodies littering the ground.
Rylan's soldiers were disorientated by the companions turning against them, and in truth, I didn’t understand what was happening, either. One by one, Rylan's soldiers relented, throwing their weapons to the ground as they stood with their hands above their heads.
They ought to have given up the moment the other half retreated.
“Go,” Kidira said to me. “Bring back the fallen.”
“What?” I asked, not trusting my own ears.
“Go,” she repeated, and I didn't wait for her to change her mind.
My boots hit the ground and I tore through the aftermath of the battle, raising the dead and saving the dying. There were dozens of them, hundreds, and with my head already spinning, I ran clean into Atalanta's chest. She placed both hands on my shoulders and eased me back. There was blood splattered across the bridge of her nose but she had no injuries worth blinking at.
The cold ground trembled beneath my feet as the pounding between my temples grew louder and louder, blood rushing through my ears. Atalanta accompanied me across the battlefield and pulled out the weapons still embedded in bodies for me.
We found Varn bathed in blood and grinning wildly. I hadn't considered worrying about her and for good reason. There wasn't a scratch on her, and though her armour was stained, there wasn't a tear to speak of. I picked up one of the corpses strewn around her feet but she knocked my shoulder with the heel of her palm and said, “Oi! I just killed that one. He actually up a fight.”
For some unfathomable reason, I felt the need to explain my actions to Varn. But before I could find the words, my heart began to buzz. It was a deep, angry sensation that spiralled outwards, making my teeth stand on edge. My eyes and hands were blazing and I knocked the heel of my palm against my temple, trying to force the sensation out of my head.
“Whoa, whoa. Watch it, North Woods,” Varn said, catching me as I stumbled into her. “If you're gonna be fucking falling everywhere at least let Lanta grab one of your arms. Gods!”
She put an arm around me regardless, and Atalanta helped by slinging one of my arms around her shoulders. My vision dimmed and the last thing I heard Varn mutter was, “She's bloody heavier than she looks.”
When I awoke, I was blind. Deaf. Submerged in water without the force of the ocean twisting around me. My lungs burnt but breath came easily. My skin crawled, turning cold, and I must've shown some sign of regaining consciousness. Varn, sat next to me, nudged me in the side, reminding me where my body began and ended.
“You understand that had we sent word ahead of time, we would've lost our element of surprise. Had we let anyone know we were alive, word would've found its way back to Rylan. In order for him to believe that all of Orinhal had been wiped out, you had to believe it, too,” Atthis said. His voice reached me as though wool had been wrapped around my head. “Our scouts had been tracking him for weeks. We still had quite the resistance, even after Rylan took Orinhal, but in spite of the army you had gathered across the territories, we couldn't take him on alone. Nor could we risk allowing him to take Thule, Your Majesty.”
“Please. Ightham will do,” Claire said. “We owe you a great deal. Had you not been with Rylan, our forces most certainly would have failed.”
“We burnt Orinhal to the ground. I am sorry for that, but it was the only way for Rylan to believe that we were no longer a threat. After that, we spread throughout the territories, waiting for his army to pass through the remaining settlements, gathering new recruits. We joined them. We waited.”
Groaning, I tried to work out where I was. I stretched out my arms, expecting to catch dirt beneath my nails, but scraped across something soft and yielding. I twisted this way and that, and though I hadn't suffered more than a single blow, every inch of my body ached. A thick, coppery taste filled my throat, and my heart beat on and on long before it occurred to me that I could open my eyes.
Claire's chamber. My chamber.
I'd been laid out on the bed, armour stripped away. Any blood and dirt that covered my face and hands had been washed off, and the first thing I did upon sitting up was reach over to the bedside cabinet and pull out a handful of bitterwillow. I sat with my legs hanging over the side of the bed and chewed and chewed, taking deep breaths and doing my best to rid myself of the echoes of wounds that weren't rightly mine. Varn watched me with an unimpressed frown and didn't try to help. Didn't offer to find me a glass of water.
“Casualties were minimal, thanks to Rowan,” Atthis went on to say. The words were starting to come through more clearly. “Our soldiers are currently stationed at the barracks, along with our prisoners. I understand that you did not think to expect us, but now that we have joined you...”
“The barracks haven't been half-full in months. In more than a year, even. The bulk of our forces have long since been in the territories with Rylan. There ought to be room enough for your soldiers. If not, accommodations will be made.”
I took hold of one of the bedposts and tried to pull myself to my feet. I ended up sat back down half a second later. Varn snorted a laugh.
“I can't tell you how good it is to see you on the throne, Ightham,” Atthis went on to say, and my head cleared enough to hear the smile in his voice. “When Orinhal was taken, none of us knew where escaping would lead us. But as soon as word of your coronation trickled towards us, we knew what we had to do.”
My second attempt at standing was far more successful. I swayed on the spot but didn't lose my balance, thanks to Varn's hand on the small of my back. Scrubbing my face with my palms, I tiptoed over to the living area. The bedroom door had been left ajar. I peeked out of the inch-wide gap, spotting Claire and Atthis sat opposite one another.
It was over, I reminded myself, and blinked away the bodies that had fallen on the battlefield. We'd won. We had an army to match Rylan's, should he dare to strike us again.
“Rowan!” Atthis said, catching sight of me from the sofa. “You're awake. Wonderful. Please, join us.”
I hurried across the room on legs that weren’t steady enough for the job and leant down to hug him as he rose to meet me. I clung on tightly and he patted my back, not needing to say anything. Once I was done squeezing him, he put his hands on my shoulders and eased me back, getting a good look at me. My eyes darted across his face, searching for anything that would speak of the last few months. Other than losing some colour without the Canthian sun beating down on his skin, Atthis was the man I'd always known.
“I'm sorry, Rowan,” he whispered.
“I thought—we all...” I mumbled.
“Burning Orinhal wasn't easy for us. Not with what it represented. But we needed to move freely through the territories. We needed to blend in with the army. It was the only way to get back here and ensure that Thule wasn't taken.”
“I know. It's just that...” I shook my head and took a deep breath. “I'm happy to see you, and not just because we couldn't have won without you.”
He was alive. All of Orinhal were. That was all that mattered.
But it wasn't enough for everyone.
The chamber doors flew open. Ash came charging in with Goblin behind her, mouth full of apologies. Kidira trailed calmly behind and closed the doors.
“They were alive! All of them, all this time! Orinhal hadn't been burnt and you let me think it had!”
“I'm sorry, Ash. I, my father and I thought that...” Goblin began, face as grey as the sky.
Atthis raised a hand, silently interrupting them.
“Galal needed to be aware of the plan to get word of what happened to Thule,” he explained.
“So what? You don’t trust me?” Ash challenged. “Look, no offence, but you were never my King. I work for the Queen and the Queen alone. She trusts me and she trusted me when she was Marshal. So—argh. Do you have any idea how many times I put my life on the line defending Orinhal? How hard I fought for it, while you were off in Canth, dossing on the beach? And you come marching in and you decide to let me think that all of my friends, all those people I worked so hard to protect, were dead?”
“Ash,” Claire said gently. “I didn’t know, either. It’s not a matter of trust.”
“You didn’t have to see it. You didn’t see… there was nothing but ash. I thought I was looking at a grave.”
“I’m sorry,” Goblin tried again. “I wanted to tell you. I knew you deserved to, but—”
“But all the way to Thule, you let me comfort you! Let me tell you how sorry I was about your dead dad and your dead husband and… fuck.”
Varn had stuck her head out of the bedroom to see what was going on. She raised her brow, expecting me to be able to translate what was unfolding with a mere look. When I could offer her nothing but a shrug, she gave up and sprawled out on my bed.
“Sorry,” Ash muttered, finally remembering herself. “Sorry for interrupting, Your Majesty.”
“Not at all,” Claire assured her. “Take a few days to yourself, Ash. You’ve earnt them.”
Ash left with a sharp bow. Laus was waiting outside of Claire’s chambers, and Ash hunched her shoulders but didn’t shake them off when they put an arm around her.
“I should’ve told her. I should’ve trusted her,” Goblin said.
“It is her own fault for not figuring it out,” Kidira assured him, drawing herself into the conversation. “You are a terrible liar.”
She’d known all along. Of course she had. No wonder she believed we’d win the battle. After more than thirty years, she knew to place her faith in Atthis.
We spoke for a little longer about the intricacies behind faking an entire city’s death, which involved a lot of fire and a little arm-twisting of Rylan’s soldiers stationed in Orinhal, and one by one, everyone retired from the impromptu meeting to attend to their own business.
With everyone gone and Varn fast asleep sideways on my bed, an unfamiliar sense of ease washed over the room. I could not say when I had last felt it: not in Canth, knowing what had become of Kastelir, and not on the road to Isin, either; not in my village, long before they knew I was a necromancer. There was always something hanging over me, something I desperately had to hide.
But not now. Now it was just Claire and me, and we had seen an army defeated.
It was not the end of things. We both understood that, but such a weight had been lifted from us, one we didn’t even realise was there until it was gone, that neither of us wanted to ruin that moment of peace. I leant against Claire and with a smile, she put her arm around me.
“How long was I asleep?” I asked.
“A day, or thereabouts. Varn has spent much of that time here. She insists that she’s only doing it to reap the benefits of the Queen’s private chambers, but I’ll let you come to your own conclusions,” Claire said. “From reports of what happened, I expected you to be out for far longer. I believe even Akela has managed to out-sleep you.”
“I don’t think she’s slept since we got to Thule,” I said.
“It would not surprise me. She deserves the rest,” Claire said. “And far more still.”
We lapsed into another comfortable silence. Claire kissed the top of my head for no reason other than that she could, and I wished we could stay like that. Enjoying one another’s company without the pressing need to attend to matters elsewhere, out of our control.
But there were too many things to deal with. The remainder of Rylan’s army. Rylan himself. Agados, ever looming on the horizon. The former Kastelirians without homes, and the pane without their land.
Claire went to say something heavier than the mood could sustain, and so I kissed her, arms around her neck. She laughed into it and placed her hands on the small of my back and did not try to speak again for long minutes.
I let her, that time.
“There are… I will not say rumours. There were rumours long before this. Instead, there is only confirmation: there is a necromancer in the castle. In my bed,” Claire said, mouth slanting to the side as she paraphrased what she’d heard as politely as she could. “Hundreds saw you at that battle. Many of those were healed by you, if not saved entirely. There is no denying it and so I have not tried to. There is backlash, of course. Luckily, we won the battle, and so spirits are high. People are inclined towards forgiveness when they have been saved, but I will not pretend that you will be met by nothing but kindness.
“I have given the castle staff the opportunity to find new posts, if they do not wish to serve a Queen involved with a necromancer in such a way; perhaps one in ten have left. That is promising, if nothing else.”
“Even if most of them are probably staying so they can spread more rumours and watch my every move,” I said, sighing. There went my mood, sinking like a stone in the ocean.
“Rowan, love. This is it. They have found out the truth and they have not come for you, because I have not permitted it,” Claire said, fingers around my jaw. “The worst of it is behind you.”
Yet. They had not come for me yet. I did not say it out loud because Claire was determined to believe it was alright. She was determined to protect me, no matter what, and I chose to trust her.
“Halla wasn’t there,” I said, while talk of necromancers was on the tip of my tongue. “I guess it was just people trying to scare us, or trying to scare themselves. But it’s just, I’d hoped it was true. I’d hoped she was there and that this time, I’d be able to help her.”
“There’s still time. Once the rest of Rylan’s army is accounted for, there is much to do in the way of the Agadian situation,” she assured me.
I hummed, unable to take a stance on the likelihood of it all working out one way or another, and fell back against her chest. I felt her tense, though I doubted she realised she’d done so; her body always gave away whatever was on her mind. She was the Queen. There were a hundred and one things for her to do, and she could not spend the rest of the day lounging around with me, no matter how she wanted to.
“It’s okay if you need to go,” I told her.
“Actually—” A pause. “If you could do me a favour…”
Sitting upright, I said, “Of course. Anything.”
“Do not agree so readily,” she said, frowning. “My mother wishes to speak with you.”
Claire’s lips curled sharply around the words, now that she could no longer dismiss Aren as The Queen.
“I’d almost forgotten about her,” I said, sinking back down.
“I had not,” Claire sighed.
Aren still had ears and eyes in all parts of the castle and it wasn’t hard to imagine what she might want to talk about. I would have rather avoided her indefinitely, for she could not very well track me down, but the recent lightness I had felt put me in mind to deal with things immediately.
“Alright. I’ll go listen to her talk about how much she hates me.”
“She doesn’t hate you. My mother does not hate anyone. She simply…”
“Nothings me?”
“Most likely.”
Despite having agreed to meet with her, I would’ve stayed on that sofa with Claire, if not for the knocking at the door. Well: less knocking and more barging. I had barely managed to spring upright by the time Reis came clambering in, muttering something about stairs and heavy doors.
