Chapter 45: A Most Welcome Ally

Kiril’s most trusted aide stood atop a large snow bank, binoculars pressed to his face, scouring the horizon for any signs of life. He was standing a mile due south of the ice moat that ringed Dargora and separated it from the surrounding area. Slowly and methodically, he scanned the edge of the Petrified Forest. Once he saw something move, but it was only a fog wolf dragging some kind of carcass back into the forest. Konrad thought it highly unlikely that anyone would be able to cross the Petrified Forest, alone and on foot, but he kept looking nonetheless. Kiril had told him to be on the lookout for a grown man in his late thirties or a teenage boy. “Leif or Alfonso will come to destroy the tree,” Kiril had told him. “Probably both. Be ready for them.”

Konrad had taken his best men, a battalion of two hundred soldiers known as the “Forlorn Hope.” Konrad had trained the battalion himself. He borrowed their name from Dutch fighters known as the “Verloren Hoop,” who were famous for making the most daring assaults and charging into battle fearlessly even when casualties were bound to be high. Konrad was among the Dragoonya elite who had lived for many centuries by using the ash to extend his life. On and off during this time, he worked as a mercenary and he had fought with everyone from Attila the Hun to Peter the Great. Konrad knew how to train soldiers and the “Forlorn Hope” were the best fighters he had ever seen. As a rite of passage, these men burned their own flesh with fire in order to deaden the nerves and make themselves more impervious to pain. Konrad was very fond of them.

During the Battle of Somnos, it was the Forlorn Hope who led the charge through the breach in the city’s walls and, when the rest of the Dragoonya army broke into a full retreat, it was these same men who held their ground, cutting down waves of Dormians in the counterattack. They only retreated when Konrad ordered them to and they did so reluctantly. “If we’d had another battalion of those men,” Nartam told him afterwards, “We would have prevailed.”

For the moment, the Forlorn Hope were the only soldiers in the Dragoonya army not allowed to use any of the black ash. “The ash is perfect for the rabble – it makes them ferocious yet compliant – but I need you and your men to have your wits about you,” Kiril had told Konrad. “If you catch them with the ash, put them to the sword. They will get their share, once we’ve assessed the proper amount to give. We won’t have them being guinea pigs.”

Konrad had assured him this wouldn’t be a problem. And it wasn’t. His men proved perfectly disciplined and obedient. They were also sharp-eyed and several hours into their watch, they spotted two solitary figures in the distance, heading toward Dargora on foot.

“Are you sure it’s only two people?” asked Konrad.

“Yes,” replied his lookout. “And one of them is waving his arms – as if he wants to be seen.”

Leif Perplexon waded through knee-high snow, waved his arms frantically and shouted as loudly as he could. “I’m right here!” he screamed at the top of his lungs. “Come on! I thought you were fierce soldiers!”

“What are you doing?” asked Marta. “Are you crazy?”

“No,” said Leif, “Just desperate.”

“They’re going to capture us,” said Marta.

“That’s the idea,” said Leif.

It had taken Leif some time to come to the realization that Alfonso might be alive. Initially, when he and Marta emerged from the makeshift snow cave, he was ready to turn to caring for Alfonso’s body, and preparing both of them for the long voyage home. But when he couldn’t find his body after hours of searching, a kindle of hope lit up inside him. “He must be alive,” Leif told Marta. “He must have turned into a younger person and just walked away.”

“Then where are his tracks?” asked Marta skeptically.

It was true – there were no tracks of any kind in the snow.

“I don’t know,” said Leif, “But we have to look for him. We have to press on for Dargora.”

“If you are set on going, I’ll come with you,” said Marta. “I owe you that much.”

“Marta,” said Leif sternly, “If you try to stop me...”

“Don’t worry I won’t,” said Marta. “Besides, I doubt anyone could stop you.”

And so they pressed on – together. The problem was, without Imad’s compass, and without any trail to follow, they had no idea where they were going. And so they wandered for hours on end. Leif grew increasingly frustrated. By the time he saw the soldiers in the distance, he was willing to take a risk, and a big one at that.

It took several minutes for the group of Dragoonya soldiers to make their way over the snow and ice covered ground – even with the help of dogs and sleds. When they finally arrived, they formed a tight circle around Leif. The soldiers carried a mix of rifles and crossbows. They wore armor made of black leather and silver feathers. Many of their faces were blackened and blistered with gruesome burns. None of them spoke. Finally one of them stepped forward. He was short, but muscular. He wore no hat, despite the cold, and his raven-black hair was plastered to his skull and encrusted with ice.

“My name is Konrad,” said the man. “And I presume you are Leif.”

Leif nodded.

“We have been expecting you,” said Konrad. “But I never imagined that you would give yourself up.”

“Me neither,” said Leif.

“I will say this just once,” said Konrad. “Don’t try anything unwise. My men here are not the gentle sort, if you take my meaning.”

Leif and Marta both looked about nervously. They were surrounded by at least fifty men who looked as if they would be only too happy to kill them. “All I want to do is give you a message,” said Leif. Konrad raised his eyebrow, unconvinced. “I swear it,” said Leif.

“Then speak,” said Konrad.

“My son Alfonso is, at this very minute, heading for your Shadow Tree with the aim of destroying it,” said Leif. “He managed to trick me into thinking that he was dead. He knew it would be a suicide mission and he’s got it in his head that he is going to do this alone.”

“He won’t succeed,” said Konrad. “We have several hundred men guarding the base of the tree. No one can harm the Shadow Tree because it does not wish to be destroyed.”

Konrad’s quiet confidence rattled Leif, and he wondered for a second whether he was doing the right thing. The Shadow Tree sounded even worse than he imagined. Still, he continued.

“Those men won’t do you any good,” replied Leif. “The tree can only be cut down at a place where it has a gash in its bark, just above a small knot, which is situated halfway up the tree’s trunk. Alfonso will float right over your soldiers’ heads and destroy the tree before they even know what’s happened.”

“Float?” asked Konrad skeptically.

Leif nodded his head, then closed his eyes, and for a full ten seconds he levitated off the ground. “Yes,” said Leif as he returned to the ground, “Just like that.”

It was Konrad’s turn to be flustered. He turned to one of his officers and conferred with him quietly. Eventually, Konrad returned his attention to Leif.

“How do you know all of this?” asked Konrad.

“Trust me,” replied Leif, “I am a Great Sleeper, I know.”

“But it doesn’t make sense,” said Konrad. “Why would you betray your own son?”

Leif paused and took a deep breath. He knew that everything depended on how he answered this question. “I spent almost a year carrying a Dormian Bloom halfway across the globe and delivering it to Jasber,” he explained. “As reward for a job well done, I spent several more years in solitary confinement as their prisoner. Now my son, my one and only child, has to set off on a suicide mission at the bidding of the Founding Trees. There is only so much loss that any man can take. I have given enough. I will not give up my son. Can you understand that?”

There was a long silence.

“I can,” said Konrad finally. He turned and gave several hand signals to his men. Seconds later, the soldiers were quickly mounting their sleds. “So you’ll help me stop Alfonso, if I spare his life?” asked Konrad. “Is that it?”

“Yes,” said Leif, “But I insist on being the one who stops Alfonso.”

Konrad’s head tilted slightly. It was hard to tell whether he was agreeing to Leif’s demand or simply listening.

“What about the girl?” asked Konrad, pointing to Marta. Marta had morphed back to the form of her true age, nine years old.

“She comes with me,” said Leif. “No other explanation is necessary.”

Konrad stared at Leif. After a few seconds, he nodded.

“Get on the sled,” he ordered.

“Where are we going?” asked Leif.

“To the Shadow Tree,” replied Konrad. “Where else?”