Illengond Page 39

  Thimeon nodded. For a moment he stood and watched Elynna mourn. Then he walked up beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. She didn’t move. “I’m sorry,” Thimeon said.

  Elynna didn’t answer at once. When she did, her voice was barely audible. “Thank you for what you did.”

  Thimeon paused, unsure of what he had heard. “I don’t understand. I couldn’t help him in battle.”

  “You gave him back to me,” Elynna went on, still without looking up. “Something had changed in him when our father died. It was not a good change.”

  “He blamed you for the death,” Thimeon said.

  Elynna looked up and met Thimeon’s eyes, and then looked down again. “Yes,” she said. “And maybe he was right. I could have accepted that, but I could not accept the hatred and cowardice that came over him. In the end, though, he came back. I’m not sorry about that. I’m only sorry I could not be with him.”

  “He gave his life to save mine,” Jhonna said. “Even though I had despised him.”

  “I’m sorry,” Thimeon said again, not sure whether he was speaking to Jhonna or Elynna or both.

  “Don’t be,” Elynna replied. “He died well. It is for this that I thank you.”

  “He made his own choice,” Thimeon said.

  “He did,” Elynna said. “But you enabled him to do that. Dhan told me you trusted him when nobody else did.”

  Thimeon didn’t answer. He waited a moment, unsure. Then he put his hand on her shoulder. She leaned into him briefly, and wiped her eyes on his sleeve, then turned away.

  A short time later, Prince Dhan returned from an excursion to Braga’s post. “El-Phern is dead,” he reported. “The Amanti killed him, I think. I found his body amidst the slain.”

  “That is one less enemy to fear, but it is hard for me to rejoice,” Thimeon answered.

  “No,” Dhan agreed. “There is no glory in battle, and that is especially true when you fight your own people. Two of the Undeani were lost also, along with Lyn and Lluach.”

  “Which two?” Tienna asked.

  “Arreg and Kreeg,” the prince answered. He shook his head sadly. “I did not even know them. Braga told me their names. I shouldn’t have sent the Undeani over there. They were no match for El-Phern.”

  “I also grieve at their loss,” Tienna replied. “Yet they choose that flank so that they would not have to fight their own people. And they did so knowing there was little chance for any of us. It could have been more than two.”

  Dhan did not answer at once, but finally he nodded. “Yes. More than thirty of El-Phern’s men fell. Most, I would guess, fell to Terrid’s arrows or to the knives of the Amanti rather than to the Undeani. Still, Braga’s men fought valiantly. As you say, it could have been much worse.”

  “Are there others wounded?” Tienna asked.

  The prince’s eyes lit. “Yes. Can you help them?”

  The question was barely out of his mouth before Tienna and Thimeon were jogging across the hillside toward were Braga stood with his small company. They arrived to find that most of them were wounded, some grievously. Nahoon’s breathing was shallow and he was deathly pale. With Thimeon’s aid, Tienna set to work at once.

  41

  THE GREATER DANGER

  A quarter of an hour passed before Tienna and Thimeon left Braga and his followers healed and in amazement, and returned to the prince. Much of the afternoon had now passed. The sun had dropped low to the horizon in front of them, over the woods where Golach’s company was encamped.

  Thimeon arrived back at the prince’s side just as Aram and Armas returned up the hill, supporting between them a limping Hrevia. Thimeon saw that she had a huge gash in her leg. Kachtin came several steps behind them, along with Armas. Thimeon looked past them down the slope, but he could see no more signs of battle. The fighting had left the open slope. Golach’s army had fled into the woods, with Terrid’s men giving chase.

  He turned and saw that Tienna had already gone to Hrevia’s side. He clasped the stone again in his hand and went to support her. As Tienna probed Hrevia’s hurts, Thimeon listened to the conversation behind him.

  “What happened?” Dhan asked the duke.

  “The battle has turned,” Armas replied. “Many of Golach’s men have cast down their weapons and surrendered. The rest have fled into the woods.”

  “What happened to Golach?” asked Bandor,

  Thimeon realized Bandor had missed the sudden turn of events. He had been unconscious or nearly so for some time before his healing. Dhan and Jhaban gave him a quick account of Terrid’s arrival, and of the Andani hunters with him, and of the appearance of the animals.

  “But Golach had several hundred men,” Bandor said.

  “That seems to be so,” Armas replied. “But the animals swarmed down upon Golach’s flank with such swiftness that his soldiers were taken unaware. Or so we heard. We found many of them hiding in trees. They were more than glad to see us, and most of them cast down their weapons in exchange for protection. Some have come over to our side. Not many, but a few. When they saw the Daegmons, they realized Golach and the king lied to them. They saw Koranth consulting with the Daegmons, and Golach took orders from Koranth.”

  “The Daegmons!” Thimeon suddenly exclaimed. In the relief of their victory over Golach, he had momentarily forgotten about them. How was it that their presence had not brought terror upon his whole company? He turned and looked up the hillside. Two of the creatures still stood upon the slope, looking down. The others were gone. Thimeon searched the skies above and spotted two circling overhead. A minute later he saw the last one flying over the woods off to the south. He shook his head soberly. “The battle is not yet over. This is but a short reprieve. The worst is still to come.”

  He turned at once and strode to Elynna’s side. He put a hand gently on her shoulder. She took it in her own and squeezed it once. “We need you,” he said.

  Elynna brushed her brother’s hair back away from his face, and then rose. She wiped her eyes on her sleeves. “What do you need?”

  “The Daegmons,” Thimeon said. “The real battle still awaits us, I fear. What are they doing? Where do they go?”

  Elynna closed her eyes. At once she shivered. “They are preparing to attack. The Gaergaen is down below also, somewhere in the woods not far away. And Koranth too. They speak to one another, and to the Daegmons. I can sense their thoughts. They are angry, but not afraid. Golach is with them. They have gathered a few of his men around them. They don’t care about the lives of the soldiers, but they might want to use them again.” Then her brows furrowed further, and she winced as from some spasm of pain. “There is great strength there, and they are gathering it up. I don’t know what it is. Some other power is at work—something greater than anything we have yet faced. Whether it is their combined might I feel, or some other presence, I do not know. They will attack soon, and all together.”

  Thimeon took a deep breath and turned to Dhan. “There is little time. Gather our people back, including Terrid.”

  “It would be dangerous to send out messengers. We don’t know how long they will take, and any we send out is one less who can fight on our side if the Daegmons attack now.”

  “I know,” Thimeon agreed. “But we need—” he stopped mid-sentence. “Cathwain!” he exclaimed, as he spun around in search of the young Ceadani woman. Cathwain stood only a few yards up the hill beside Jhonna and Corandra. “I need your help again,” Thimeon said as she approached. “Use your gift to call the others back.”

  “Is anybody I know among them? Somebody familiar.”

  “Cathros is among them, and he is the one we need. Do you remember him?” Cathwain nodded, and Thimeon continued. “Do what you can to call him back. He must return.”

  Cathwain nodded. She closed her eyes in concentration. Thimeon felt the stone in his hand warm and thrum with ren
ewed power. He put his hand on Cathwain’s shoulders, and felt the power flowing from him into her. A minute later she opened her eyes and nodded toward him. “It is done. He has heard.”

  Thimeon turned back to Dhan. “I know you do not want to hear this, but the battle yet to come will be worse than the one we already fought. One Daegmon alone could destroy us all. Now we will have to face five of them.”

  “The Gaergaen is just as bad,” Tienna warned.

  Thimeon turned to her. He had not faced the Gaergaen before. “How does it fight? Does it wield any weapons?”

  “No weapon of steel or human craft, but it can throw power from its staff. It comes like fire falling from the sky, or like the flash of lightning. Except that natural lightning, however powerful it may be when it rolls across the Plains, does not feel sick to me. Whatever the Gaergaen does with its staff is like an illness in the air and earth.”

  Dhan shuttered. “And Koranth?”

  “He is kin to Gaergaen,” Elynna replied. “That is what I felt when I was prisoner at Citadel.”

  “Is there no way to defend against them?” Thimeon asked.

  “Cane’s flame held it off for a time,” Tienna answered. “Or perhaps it was the power of the stone. But Cane is gone now.”

  Before Thimeon could reply, a screech drew his eyes skyward. Two Daegmons were circling lower. He looked for only a few seconds. Then Elynna grabbed his arm and pointed down the slope to the edge of the trees. A small group of soldiers had reappeared. For a brief moment Thimeon thought it might be Terrid and Cathros. Then he saw in their midst two tall figures robed in dark. Thimeon did not need Elynna to tell him who they were. “Call the gifted together,” he said. “Tell Braga to bring the Undeani back here.”

  “Should we abandon guarding our other positions?” Dhan asked.

  “Yes,” Thimeon replied. “Our battle is against the Daegmons, and we want all of our people together.”

  Dhan sent Theo running across the slope to fetch Namha, Nahoon, and the Undeani. Thimeon turned back to Tienna. “Are there any others who need healing? Now is the time. I will help you.”

  “All the wounds I know of—any that were grievous—have been healed.”

  Thimeon nodded. “That is good. We might not have time later.” He looked upward. Two Daegmons still circled overhead. He could feel their presence.

  “They are waiting for something,” Elynna said.

  Thimeon looked back down the slope. “Where is Cathros?”

  Elynna’s voice suddenly rose. “It’s too late. They come!”

  A terrifying noise shook the air as several of the Daegmons opened their mouths in a battle cry that rang off the mountains. His companions threw their hands over their ears. An instant later, Thimeon heard a loud crack like the strike of lightning. He looked up to see a bolt of red fire coming from the dark figures down the slope. “Look out!” he shouted, and braced himself for the concussion.

  The blow exploded a dozen yards in front of him, just inches from where Aram was standing. Aram crumbled to the ground in a heap. Kachtin, who stood just a few yards to the side, was thrown several feet through the air. The others were knocked a step backward and felt their hair on end. But Thimeon felt something else as well. A counter-force had come from—from himself, it seemed—and met the force of their enemy’s blast. Thimeon looked at the talisman in his hand. It glowed hot in his hand. Yet it did not burn him. He held it up. A blue light emanated from the disc. He was just in time. Up the slope came another bolt of red fire, more powerful than the first. An answering wave of blue light flowed from the stone in his upraised hand. A blinding flash and a deafening explosion shocked the air as the lights collided. Kachtin, who had just recovered enough from the first blow to rise to his knees, was still in the way of the next blast. He disappeared in a burst of flame.

  “Save him,” Thimeon shouted at Tienna.

  “It is too late,” Tienna replied. “He’s dead already. So is Aram.”

  Thimeon bowed his head for just a moment, but he knew he had no time to mourn. With his companions, he braced for the next blast.

  “Look out!” Elynna cried.

  Thimeon spun around just in time to see a Daegmon gliding down the slope toward him, talons extended and jaws open. Elynna had sensed it just in time. “Down!” Thimeon yelled, and he dove to the side. Tienna and Dhan, who stood beside Thimeon, dove in the opposite direction. The claws swept through where their heads had just been, slicing through air but nothing else. Before Thimeon could even rise to his feet, another of the beasts swooped down the slope. They met this one with a hail of arrows, but the shafts bounced ineffectively off its scaled underbelly. It brought its tail crashing down in the midst of the Undeani. Regon screamed as the blow caught her leg and sent her sprawling.

  Braga gave a horrified shout and sprinted toward the boulder where his beloved lay crumbled in pain. Thimeon rose to his feet. He saw Tienna dart after Braga. He could do nothing for them. He looked back down the hill. “Keep everybody behind me,” he shouted at the prince. “Guard the uphill side. Face the Daegmons while I try to ward off the attack of the Gaergaen.”

  Dhan began yelling orders to the others. Some of Undeani understood something for they started shouting amongst themselves and gathering together. They were too slow, however. Already a third Daegmon was swooping down to attack. And another bolt of power shot up the hill like a flaming arrow. Thimeon spun to face the blast, and an answering wave of blue light met it, shattering it into fragments. Yet behind him, he knew another Daegmon approached. With Cane dead, and Cathros gone, no other power remained capable of facing that enemy. Holding the stone above him as defense against the Gaergaen, he spun to watch it.

  And he saw Namha, the tall and mysterious warrior. While the others scrambled frantically to form a defensive bulwark on the uphill side, the Amanti darted out of the circle, away from the others toward a bare patch of slope thirty yards away. And as he ran, he called out in his strange tongue. Though Thimeon did not understand the words, by some other power or intuition he understood the meaning. For Namha’s words were intended for the Daegmon. The warrior had issued a challenge. Come and take me. If you are strong enough.

  “Not that way!” screamed Nahoon. But his cry was lost, for the Daegmon had also understood the thought, and it let forth an answering cry as it lifted its right wing and veered away from the others and toward the loner. Down it came, its gaping jaws opened even wider in glee, ready to swallow the last of the Amanti.

  Namha stood waiting. In his hands he held his two remaining daggers, recovered from the bodies of earlier victims. Though his face was stone, in his eyes burned the deaths of all his comrades. He did not flinch as the distance closed: as his enemy spread wide its wings and extended its talons to rend him. From seventy yards he was close enough to see the creature’s eyes. At forty yards, he could have seen its flared nostrils, steaming with hidden fire. Still he did not move, and Thimeon watched, paralyzed, wondering if he meant to die.

  The Daegmon was just a few feet above the ground, intent on its prey and ignoring the other humans. Namha waited until he was staring down the throat of his enemy. And then he moved. With all his might, and with the perfect accuracy of the Amanti, he hurled both his knives. An instant later, the creatures jaws snapped shut on the space where he was.

  “No!” Nahoon cried in anguish, but the louder cry came from the Daegmon who had a dagger embedded deep in its right eye. Thimeon could sense its pain. Blinded on one side and in greater agony than it had known in many centuries, it jerked its head upward and lifted its wings toward the sky.

  Ten yards on the other side, Namha rose to his feet. A loud cheer followed the stunned silence. Thimeon used his chance. He turned again toward Cathwain. “Where is Cathros? We need him.”

  “I called him already,” Cathwain said.

  “Call him again,” Thimeon demanded. “We nee
d him.”

  “Look out,” Elynna shouted. “They combine their might.”

  Thimeon turned back to his foes who stood down the slope. Koranth and the Gaergaen stood side by side. They had raised their staffs together. With their combined might, they hurled a ferocious blow, more than double in strength what either could do alone. The instant it erupted from their staffs, Thimeon realized it was not directed at him. It was directed at Namha. He leapt forward and held out the Henetos, willing its power to blaze forth and protect the Amanti. In answer, a bolt of blue light shot from the stone and met the force of the attack just ten feet beyond where Namha stood. Again the red light exploded into splinters with so great a force that even Thimeon was thrown backward. He arose and looked up. To his relief, Namha was retreating back up the slope.

  But the enemy did not relent. Another blast followed the first, detonating ten feet closer to Thimeon. He looked and saw Koranth and the Gaergaen advancing toward the companions, staffs still raised. With them also came Golach and a dozen or so Citadel warriors.

  Boom. Another rumbling blast of power blazed up the hillside, imploding just feet in front of Thimeon and knocking the companions back another step.

  Thimeon turned and looked up the hillside searching for a path of escape, but two Daegmons now approached down the slope, blocking that route. A third creature, half-blind but no less terrible in its appearance, advanced along the slope from the south where Braga’s company had been moments earlier. The last two still circled overhead, dropping steadily lower with each pass. The companions would soon be trapped.

  In desperation, Thimeon again spun toward Cathwain. “Where is Cathros? Find him!”

  With one hand clutching the stone, he put his other hand on her shoulder. Power surged through him so suddenly that Cathwain jumped. She closed her eyes in concentration, and then opened them almost at once. “He has heard. He is trying to come.”

  “Trying?” Thimeon said, aghast. He fought down despair. After a moment he said, “Then there is nothing else we can do but prepare for the onslaught, and hope to keep open a way for him to join us.”