The Betrayed Read online

  Overhead the sun was nearly at its peak. She had been moving all morning, further than she would have thought possible. Her legs ached and her lungs burned, but she knew the consequences of stopping now. Their trail veered to the left, and the river disappeared over a ridge to the east. Elynna thought she could hear distant hoof beats over the sound of water, but it might have been her imagination.

  And then, mingled with the fear of the approaching soldiers and the fatigue from the long flight, coupled with the guilt and uncertainty over the thought that perhaps she had helped lead them poorly, came the burning scent. The sense of violation. The awareness that the Daegmon approached. She wondered how long it had been there, slowly increasing in intensity, without her noticing. Had she become so used to it that she hadn’t even noticed it? She lifted her gaze off the ground just ahead of her and looked to the skies. She did not see it, but it was out there somewhere. She looked ahead to warn the others. Her companions were spread out again. She had fallen back and could see only six of them ahead of her. The rest had already disappeared into the grasses or gone over the next rise. It was too late to warn them. Too late to escape. She stumbled onward.

  Soon the trail came to another rise, steeper than any they had yet climbed. For the first time in several days the grasses gave way to packed dirt and scrubby plants. Without the tall grass, Elynna could see her companions again as she scrambled up the bare hillside. Cane was already at the top. He pointed off to the east. Did he see the Daegmon that she felt? Or was he pointing at soldiers? Others had gathered around him.

  Sweating and exhausted, Elynna struggled to complete the climb. It seemed to take forever. She risked a glance behind her and realized how much altitude they had gained. Several hundred feet below her, the Plains spread out toward the southern horizon: a patchwork blanket of green, brown, and gold. In sharp contrast to the wide, flat expanse, on both sides of her, steep walls rose to a great height in a long line running east and west. Upward and northward, into a gap in this wall she climbed. Trying to keep moving. Trying not to think of the twin threats now converging. Twice she slipped, banging her knees on the rocks and skinning her hand. Finally she arrived at the top, too tired even to look around. She dropped her hands to her knees and stood breathless and panting.

  “Over there, and there,” Theo said. Elynna lifted her head and looked. He was pointing ahead toward the slope, in the direction they were trying to go. The others stared where he pointed. Shapes moved here and there along the hillside, disappearing behind boulders and trees or fading into clumps of bushes.

  No! Elynna cried. It was the final blow. Their path was cut off.

  “There can be no mistake,” Cathros replied. “They are taking positions in wait for us.”

  “Then we are beaten,” several voices said.

  If any strength remained in Elynna, she would have begun to weep in helplessness. But at the moment she was too exhausted.

  “I don’t understand,” Theo said. “Where did they cross? How did they get ahead of us?”

  Cathros ignored the question. “We are trapped behind and before, outnumbered ten to one. Why do they wait in ambush instead of turning on us now?”

  And the Daegmon is here too, Elynna thought. But at the moment, she did not have the heart to tell the others.

  “And where are their horses?” Nahoon asked. “I agree with Theo. Something is amiss.”

  “The ground is too rough to fight on horseback,” Cane answered. “They have left the horses below. The only thing amiss is that we have been beaten here. Our escape has been cut off.”

  “I am not sure,” Nahoon said. “Let us continue onward into the pass and keep wary.”

  Cathros looked at him as if he was crazy. “Into an ambush? That’s foolishness. We saw the men clearly.”

  “My brother is right,” Cane said. “Let us stop here. It is certain to come to battle. It might as well be now, and we might as well choose the place.” He drew his sword. At that moment Elynna heard from down the slope behind them the inevitable sound of hoof beats. “The hill is as defensible a position as any,” Cane said. “Let them come to us.”

  Elynna looked about her. Enemies behind them, down the slope to the south. Northward in the hills more soldiers waited in ambush. East and west were steep cliffs. Escape seemed impossible. She looked at her companions. Mingled with her own fear and despair came a welling of compassion and admiration for them. They had given everything. Nahoon would not see his bride again. Marti would not see his mother or brother, nor they him. Tired though they were, they drew their weapons and girded themselves for the final battle.

  “It is only one horse,” Noaem said.

  “Only one?” Cathros asked. “Do they want to parlay?”

  “What can they ask for other than our surrender?” Cane replied rhetorically. “Shoot the messenger in case it is a ruse to scout our position.”

  Elynna cringed at Cane’s ruthlessness, but she drew her bow along with several others. The lone horse slowed as it started up the last steep slope. She lowered the bow without nocking an arrow and felt a brief reprieve—a rare moment of relief in the midst of the madness. It was Tienna. Another sat on her horse behind her. In less than a minute, they were at the top of the hill.

  “I fear you are too late,” Cane said coldly.

  Tienna looked pale as she dismounted. Then the rider behind her also dropped to his feet. Noab. He no longer wore a bandage at his side, and he moved with no sign of injury.

  Elynna guessed at once what had happened. Tienna had healed Noab. Elynna understood then the reason for her friend’s pale visage. Despite her gift, the healing did not come easy; Tienna had to pay a price. Elynna had experienced that briefly—the passing of both pain and power—when Tienna had drawn upon Elynna and Thimeon to heal her own leg. Elynna knew what it was like to pay the price for her own gift as well—perhaps in a way no other companion did. She stepped forward and put her hand on her friend’s shoulder.

  But whatever weakness Tienna felt, whatever showed in her face, it did not stop her. She was already removing the bit and bridle from the horse’s mouth. With a slap on its rump, she sent it cantering away. Only then did she turn to the others and answer the unspoken questions that had arisen in Elynna’s mind. “The enemy has left their horses below, and they move slowly now. They have found a place to ford and ascend on both sides of the river. They are beyond those rocks, regrouping for their attack. Come. I cannot promise how long the way will remain open for us. We must make haste.”

  “Our enemy,” Cane interrupted, staring hard at Tienna, “already holds the notch against us.”

  “What?” Tienna asked as fear spread across her face. “How is it? The battle is over?” She looked around at the other companions. Almost at once, her resolute confidence returned. “Come. I will explain as we walk, else the sacrifice will be in vain.” She started up the trail.

  “Stop!” Cane said. “They wait in ambush.”

  “Yes,” Tienna replied, without stopping. “For the Citadel army, not for us. These are the Uët warriors who await in the rocks.”

  Elynna opened her eyes in surprise, and her heart leapt. She started up the slope after Tienna. The others who had been standing still suddenly sprang into motion also. The whole company began moving up the hill.

  Tienna went on speaking as she worked her way up the slope. “The Plains have been awakened. The time has come for our people to oppose Citadel. They have come to do battle.”

  The implications of this news swept over Elynna, for a moment pushing her other fears aside. Such was the import that she almost stopped walking. Gondisle was being drawn into a war! Not just against the creature, or creatures, but against the soldiers of Citadel. Against their brothers and sons. It was no longer only her companions opposing the evils of Citadel. It would start in the Plains, but it would grow.

  The Daegmon had started
it. But so had she. So had her company. How many more would suffer because of her choices?

  She was not the only one to grasp this. “A rebellion?” Beth and Marti asked in unison.

  “Yes,” Tienna acknowledged. Her voice sounded sad as well as weary. “I fear the cost will be high. Perhaps I was wrong—”

  “You persuaded them, then?” Cane asked in admiration. His expression toward her suddenly changed.

  “Maybe. Or maybe they needed no persuasion. Not after I confirmed what they had already come to fear: that Citadel is in league with the Daegmon. That news came as a hard blow to some who still held hope for aid from our king. Do not forget that many of my people have suffered and died at the hands of the Daegmon. Though we have few villages to burn, we have known the terror of its attacks. Now, at least, we have an army we can fight.”

  “But Citadel is so close,” Beth said in dismay. For a moment she came to a stop, and Elynna almost walked into her. “They will send an army to Tanengog. I must return to my family.”

  “There will be war,” Tienna said. Her acceptance of this fact showed none of the cold glee Cane might have expressed. Perhaps, Elynna thought, her paleness revealed more than the energy spent in Noab’s healing. “We will have to fight, and many may die. But do not be overly dismayed. The Plains have survived assaults from the lowlands before, though not in many generations.”

  The company still moved up the slope, and Tienna’s fellow Plainsfolk had gathered closest to her.

  “How many of our people are here?” Nahoon asked. “Which tribes?”

  “The Uëtha will bear the brunt of the first battle. Foreseeing that it might come to this, they have been shadowing the army since it entered the Plains. I have received word that the Arnei will also come. Many of our best hunters are but a day west of this place. If the Uët warriors can hold this company at bay for one day, then they will have enough aid to overwhelm them—”

  “Until a larger army comes from Citadel,” Marti finished.

  “Yes,” Tienna said. “And a larger army is sure to follow, but by then we will be long gone.”

  “We will be, but not the rest of our people.” Beth groaned.

  “So this was all done for us,” Elynna said, voicing aloud her own uncomfortable realizations. Her company’s coming—escaping their imprisonment in Citadel with an army in pursuit, and then bringing the battle against Daegmons into the Plains—had forced the choice. They had brought war to the peoples of Tienna and Nahoon, Marti, and Beth.

  They had by this time reached the bottom of their steepest ascent yet, up a boulder-strewn hillside dotted with tall evergreens leaning precariously outward. The notch had also narrowed to a few hundred feet, with steep walls on either side. To their right, the river plunged over a seventy-foot drop that marked the upper edge of the Plains.

  “The soldiers,” Cathros said suddenly. “They come.” Elynna turned. To her dismay fifty soldiers had crested the ridge less than two hundred yards below and were charging up the hill. More poured over every second. Sixty. Seventy. Even as she watched, a volley of arrows came whirring through the air, falling just a few yards behind her. The greater concerns for Gondisle disappeared, and once more her thought was on her own plight. The struggle to survive one more day. One more week. To use the gift she had and bring an end to the one enemy she was equipped to fight.

  “Climb,” Cane yelled.

  In reply, Elynna turned and threw herself against the steep hill, scrambling up as fast as she could. Around her, her companions clambered alongside her. Onward she went, glancing back instinctively every few steps. Within moments the slope below them swarmed with enemy soldiers. Some charged with swords drawn. Others had stopped to nock arrows to their bows. Another volley came through the air, just missing the heels of the rearmost companions as they struggled up the hill.

  Seized by panic, Elynna scrambled yet more frantically, but the morning had taken its toll; she was exhausted and bruised and couldn’t find good footing. The pursuers gained by the second. Where was the ambush? She looked around. The first of her companions had reached the top, two hundred feet above her, but she saw no sign of Uët warriors.

  Whiz. More arrows flew from below, this time passing overhead and clattering on the rough ground ahead of Elynna and on both sides. One struck a rock inches from her right hand. Lurching away from it, she stumbled and fell.

  “Hurry,” came a shout from above. She looked upward as she regained her feet. Theo, Anchara, Noab, Bandor, and Nahoon stood atop the slope with their bows. They now loosed their own return volley.

  At that moment, the ambush was launched. All along the slopes on both sides, stepping out from behind boulders and bushes, leaping down from trees, dozens of Uët warriors joined in the battle. From their bows a hailstorm of arrows rained down upon the unsuspecting heads of the attacking soldiers. Several fell. The rest faltered, then turned and fled back down the hill.

  14

  THE PRACTICE OF TRUST

  Thimeon’s rest was short but untroubled. Some three hours before dawn, his inner clock woke him. He rose and lit a lantern, then reached over and shook Lluanthro, who slept in the next bed. While the merchant roused himself, Thimeon pulled on his trousers. He was just donning his boots when there came a faint knock at their door. He opened it to find Siyen arriving as planned. He introduced her to the merchant, and the three of them sat around a small table near the lamp.

  As they ate from a tray of muffins taken from the inn’s kitchen the evening before, Siyen updated Thimeon. “Lyn has spoken with Kayam and made the arrangements.”

  “Who’s Kayam?” Lluanthro asked Thimeon. “You only mentioned Lyn.”

  “He’s our coconspirator,” Siyen answered with a mocking half smile.

  Thimeon frowned at that word. He turned to Lluanthro. “Kayam, I assume, is a guard at the castle. I didn’t tell you his name because I didn’t know it. He had already left before I met Siyen and Lyn.”

  “Can we trust him?” Lluanthro asked.

  Siyen shrugged. “Probably. But I’ll admit that when Lyn told him about Thimeon, he suggested we kill you. Fortunately we convinced him you weren’t interested in a share of the treasure.” She paused and looked at Thimeon. “You’re not, right?”

  The cautious merchant ignored Siyen’s question and pressed his point. “What do you know about him?”

  “Not much. He’s an old Northlander. Served many years in the Citadel army. Now he’s a guard. More importantly, he’s a guard inside the castle, and he’s on duty at night. His shift will end soon. We need to hurry if we are to meet him.”

  “Where is Lyn?” Thimeon asked.

  “Still taking care of the arrangements for our escape. He had to find a cart and some disguises in case we can’t get back out the way we got in. And in case that plan fails, he’s also arranging to get a drift boat to meet us below the cliffs after dark tonight in the spot you described.” A minute later she added, “He’s also arranging in advance for the quick sale of one or two items we’ll be acquiring. We’ll have need of coins, and we’ll want to get it from somebody who won’t ask any questions.” She turned to Lluanthro. “You’re a merchant. I don’t suppose you’re interested—”

  “Not in buying stolen treasure,” Lluanthro said.

  Siyen shrugged. “In any case, Lyn will be back here at sunrise.” She took a red scarf with bright-blue tassels from around her neck and handed it to Lluanthro. “He’ll be looking for somebody wearing this.”

  Lluanthro turned to Thimeon. “When do I meet you?”

  “If all goes well, I’ll meet you back here at daybreak,” Thimeon answered. “You should have your wagons ready for us at first light.”

  “That’s not much time for you.”

  “No, it is not,” Thimeon acknowledged. “Though I fear if we do not find what we want quickly, we will not find it at all.”


  Lluanthro turned to Siyen. “What of you and your friends? Are you coming with us too?”

  “No.”

  “Where will you go?” Thimeon asked her. “What will you do with your treasure?”

  “Does it matter?”

  Thimeon shook his head. “Only to you.” He turned back to Lluanthro. “If I don’t arrive within an hour after dawn, you’ll have to stay in Citadel and remain inconspicuous. Don’t stay long in one place. That will draw attention. If we don’t find you here in the morning, we’ll look for you next at the south gate at noon, and then again after sunset at the bridge over the Dagger. If we aren’t there by an hour after sunset, it means we couldn’t get out. If that happens, we’ll try to escape by the cliffs. You’ll need to be ready to meet us by the river, downstream of the bridge.” He paused while Lluanthro wrote a quick note in his ledger, then went on. “Are you sure nobody will be suspicious if you leave from here and go east?”

  Lluanthro shrugged. “I’ve often traveled to Kreana to barter with Northlanders for precious gems. Nobody will be surprised.”

  “And your son and brother will return home by the west road?”

  “Father!” came an objecting voice from the corner of the room where Athropas lay in bed listening. “Why do I—?”

  “We’ve been through this already,” Lluanthro interrupted. “Your mother would skin us both if I took you with me. Besides, somebody has to return and give her news. I may be gone for days or weeks.”

  “Why can’t Rammas or—?”

  “No arguments this time. I’ve already made arrangements for you and your uncle to travel in a caravan with Korrigan. He has a large company, and you’ll be safe on the road.”

  A short time later Thimeon and Siyen left the inn and walked together through the city. Thimeon had a small pack and carried a lantern, but the lantern wasn’t lit. The streets were still dark and nearly empty. Except for a small number of merchants just starting to load wagons for a busy day and one or two drunk men making their way home from the taverns, the city slept.