Their party disappeared into the deep darkness of the trees and allowed a lone rider to pass.
Rhia signaled instructions. ‘Oh my mark, draw blades. I’ll approach first.’
One of the warriors signaled back. ‘No, we will surround him and...’
‘When RuArk leads a fireteam, does he ever sit back and let you take point?’
‘Well, no...’
‘Didn’t think so. Now shut up and let me do my job.’ With that, Rhia was the first to burst through the branches to confront the rider. She skidded to a halt.
“Mannon? What are you doing out here?”
“My lady! I knew I would find you,” he gasped, clearly relieved even as he slumped from his horse and landed in the thick foliage in an unmoving heap.
Mannon slowly opened his eyes, squinted up at the night sky and wondered how much time had passed. With the thick clouds and no moon, he could barely make out the outlines of the thick tree trunks all around him.
The last thing he remembered was the ground coming up to meet him as Rhia stood ready to slice his head off. In all his years of serving the House of Greysomne, Mannon had never been so happy to see anyone in his life. He lay on a thick pallet, still wearing his boots and trousers but his shirt had been replaced by a single, soft blanket.
He’d been gravely injured and feared the worst even though the scent of blood was absent. This was going to hurt, but he had to know how bad it was. So he held his breath to keep from crying out as his fingers sought the spot where he’d been sliced as he fled the High City.
Instead of a raw, bloody gash, he found a bandage laid neatly over the site of the deep cut. The surrounding area was sore and achy but somehow the wound felt as if it were a few days old rather than just a few hours.
A moment later, Rhia quietly announced herself as she came and knelt next to Mannon.
“Hey, Manny. Glad you’re awake.”
“That makes two of us,” he said.
“Can you sit up?”
“Yes, sir,” Mannon replied. “A bit stiff, but I can do it.” Ignoring the twinge of pain that radiated across his stomach and ribs, Mannon sat up. The blanket pooled in his lap as Rhia helped him scoot back a bit so he could lean against the nearest tree. Images of the terror he’d faced, the death that he’d been sure would find him, filled his head.
Feeling exposed, he pulled the blanket around him like a cloak and huddled beneath it. Although the night was balmy enough to need no covering at all, Mannon shivered uncontrollably.
“Be right back.” Rhia retreated, only to return a few minutes later.
Mannon was grateful that she slowly eased into his space and made no sudden moves. “Here, drink this,” she said. “It’s thick Gaian coffee laced with anise and honey.”
At his puzzled expression, she said, “Licorice, Mannon. It’s good. And there’s some calming herbs in it to help with the shock of whatever sent you fleeing the High City on a horse.”
“Thank you.” He took the cup from her fingers, sipped and closed his eyes on a sigh of contentment. She was right—it was delicious. Given his circumstances, he felt lucky indeed. He could have fallen from that horse before ever meeting up with Rhia and bled to death. Or worse, become food for the animalistic Noman overrunning his home.
One thing was certain, he preferred his nightmares to stay in his dreams. Instead, he’d seen monsters running around his City, his home. Draema hadn’t been attacked in too many years to count and nobody saw this coming. In this case, even the laser cannons atop the walls were of no use—they faced out towards wild terrain, which did no good when your enemies were already inside.
Opening his eyes, Mannon forced himself to meet Rhia’s concerned gaze. He didn’t bother pretending to be calm or ‘okay’. He let all of his emotions play across his face, hoping it conveyed what he couldn’t quite form the words to say just now.
Wait. Something moved in his periphery, he was sure of it. Peering past Rhia, Mannon tried to distinguish the shapes moving in the darkness. They were quite close now, but made no sound. It was times like this he wished he had Noman sight in this fucking pitch blackness!
Eyes grew wide as they were slowly surrounded by a formidable wall of raw muscle with an energy that buzzed around him until his hair felt as if it stood on end.
“Don’t worry Mannon.” Joan—another person he was so glad to see—stepped into view and moved directly into his line of sight. “They’re with us.”
“They” turned out to be scores of huge Gaian warriors and even some Draeman soldiers, all fully armed. The closest ones wore the colors and sigil of the Wind Storm. Thank god.
“Can you eat?” At his nod, Joan handed over a small plate of cold fowl, bread and hard cheese, and then settled on her knees next to Rhia. “Sorry the food is cold. We had to travel light, so we don’t have cooking equipment that can accommodate all of us, and we’re way too close to the city to risk a large enough fire. But thanks to Draeman tech, at least we have coffee courtesy of a few iozene powered heat elements.”
“Coffee,” Rhia chuckled. “Gotta have it. Survival 101.”
Still a bit unsure of his surroundings Mannon noted how quiet the camp was. None of the men made a sound, though most of them looked much too large to possibly move so quietly and gracefully. So caught up in his observations, Mannon accepted the plate with his left hand and momentarily forgot about the wound on that side. He instinctively winced at the wicked pull, and then realized there was no true pain. Even the soreness that he’d felt upon waking just a few moments ago was diminishing.
But how?
As if reading his thoughts, Rhia addressed the questions swirling around in his brain.
“Sharyn used her Gift of Healing to help mend the injury. She is sleeping now to recover from the drain on her energy, but in a few hours both you and she will be good as new. Luckily, the blade that made that wound of yours wasn’t poisoned. That would have taken the both of us. And you would have been on your back for at least a good seven days.”
He nodded, though he didn’t truly understand at all. He’d heard tell of magick and Gifts, but only in the old histories that read more like Gaian fairy tales. Reading of a culture and experiencing a culture were certainly two different things.
Mannon’s mind snapped clear as he realized something else. Sure, he shouldn’t be sitting here, alive and drinking the most delicious beverage ever, but more amazing was that he shouldn’t be sitting here with Rhia.
“Wait a minute, Rhia. What are you doing here? When I set out from Draema Proper I expected to travel for days before finding you.”
“Well, you traveled for less than three hours. My father sent for help from RuArk and the story goes downhill from there.” She told a horrific tale about the danger to RuArk and the High Counsel, and a mad dash from Province Springs in pursuit days earlier. Mannon was less than pleased to confirm that the City was indeed overrun.
By Noman and traitors.
“All is lost.”
“All?” she asked, her expression filled with pain and anger. “Is that a fact, or a guess? You rode for three hours from the High City, but it takes six just to get to the outer wall and into the buffer zone between Proper and the next colony West of here.”
True, but thinking was hard and relaxing was out of the question.
No, no, no. This is no time for emotional bullshit. Suck it up, do your job and give a proper status of what the hells happened, Mannon. You are First Assistant to the Commander in Chief of the Society of War. Fall apart later.
After several deep breaths, Mannon sat up straight, pulled his responsibility around him like a shroud and spoke. “I withdraw the suggestion that all is lost. You are right, we are still technically in Draema Proper and I have no idea if any of the close-in colonies, such as Draema Salone or Draema Porto, are taken as well. The High City gates are secured and no one is getting in or out. I barely made it myself, but I had to try. I did not know what else to do but try to find you and tell you what happened. To warn you not to come here.”
“Fire Storm,” an agitated man interrupted from a short distance away. These were some of the most disciplined people he’d ever interacted with. Stoic. Still. The epitome of calm. In all his years of dealing with Gaian who came into the High City for trade, Mannon had never seen one shift from one foot to another. Though the movement was slight, this kind of behavior from a warrior seemed downright giddy.
“Fire Storm, it is urgent.”
She motioned for the man to join them. “Mannon, this is Osgar. Osgar, this is Mannon. Mannon has been my father’s right hand for a long as I can remember. Mannon, Osgar is a high ranking warrior, one of RuArk’s most trusted.”
With the pleasantries dispensed with, she said, “All right, Os, what’s going on?”
“Before the Wind Storm left Province Springs, he had me send word to several of our men across the river.”
“So...”
“They were to quietly cross into Draema and meet him here to aid him in the battle.”
“Get to the point, Osgar.”
“Rhia, their forces were delayed by a summer storm and they could not cross the river. It was high and running too fast. By the time they reached the meeting place, the Wind Storm had already gone into the City.”
Even as dark as it was, Mannon watched understanding dawn in Rhia’s eyes. In fact, she seemed to grow more and more thrilled by the second. And so did he, but he refused to jump to a conclusion. No, he would let this man say what he was thinking before allowing himself to actually get happy about it.
“Our scouts came upon them while patrolling and brought them back to our camp. Those fireteams from northern Gaia are here. Right here,” he whispered hastily.
“How many, Osgar?”
Just then another warrior walked into the circle and answered Rhia’s question.
“Five hundred, Fire Storm.”
“Five hundred?” she gasped.
Five hundred seasoned, ruthless, armed-to-the-teeth warriors? That large a force, combined with those who’d accompanied Rhia from Province Springs would be enough to take any city in the world. Hells, a single Gaian warrior to ten typical soldiers was almost unfair. And Mannon was thankful for it. Perhaps fate was with them after all...
* * * * *
After Rhia returned from meeting the forces that had snuck into Draema to help RuArk, she was restless. They needed to rest and bed down for the night, but more than that, they needed a new strategy and more intel. Signaling to Osgar and Shaw, they joined her next to Mannon. Sharyn and Joan came along without being asked.
“Okay Mannon, we need more details. We need a new plan now that we have more men, and we need one now if we are to ride out of here with any chance of success.
“I will lead you, Blademaster.”
“No, Mannon. You’re injured and should get more rest.”
“That is not possible while I know the High Counsel is in danger. My wound is a minor irritation now, nothing more. I will not be left behind.”
“Mannon, you’re kind of short, but I swear you sound like one of these bone-headed Gaian warriors.” Osgar snorted. Joan laughed and Rhia smiled as she clapped Mannon lightly on his uninjured side.
“Thank you for the compliment.” Mannon inclined his head and then turned a bit to wink at Sharyn, who immediately blushed.
“What can you tell us of the City, Mannon?” Sharyn asked.
“It is full of those nasty Noman creatures. They seem to be everywhere.”
“What of my father’s soldiers and the Society of War?”
“Captured. The Noman came into the City, somehow unseen. Before we knew what was happening, they had overrun your home at the Citadel and were fully engaged with your mate’s forces there. Our men closed the City gates to keep anymore from coming in, but all we did was lock our people in.”
“I have never been to the High City. I do not understand how it is arranged,” Shaw said.
Rhia squatted down and drew a quick diagram in the dirt. “It’s like a bunch of rings inside other rings. Here’s the Citadel, right in the center of the High City. The Citadel is a military facility, which includes my father’s home, barracks, stables, training facilities and the like. It’s completely self-sustaining and sits on a hundred acres. There are low walls and gates around it, just like our villa in Province Springs. The High City surrounds the Citadel and there is a higher wall around the High City. Outside that is the rest of Draema Proper. You don’t see another wall until you get to the edge of the colony, and that wall’s gates lets into a buffer zone, which is a few miles of open space between Draema Proper and its neighboring colony. Got it?”
At Shaw’s nod, the man turned back to Mannon. “So what happened after the capture of the First Heir’s father?”
“They used him as a bargaining chip with a promise that the High Counsel would be kept alive if all the Gaian warriors and Draeman soldiers within the gates surrendered. RuArk signaled to his men to lay down arms. The Society of War followed suit. It was a complete coup in no time at all.”
“And the rest of our forces would have no idea what happened because they’re out patrolling the buffer zones, the rivers to the north, and the seas off the southern coast.” Rhia knew this because she’d been the one to set the schedules for the rotation of their troops for years. Damn it, damn it, damn it.
“Precisely, my lady.”
So... There was no way into the City, and no way out? As a strategist, she knew a piece of this puzzle was missing, but she couldn’t think of what it was. At the same time, it had been so long since anyone had attempted a siege on the City, she wondered if they’d simply become lax.
Clenching her jaw, Rhia reined in her temper even as an idea flashed into her head. “Wait a minute. Mannon, if the palace is overrun and the gates are closed, how did you get out?”
“Do you recall a certain old man who promised to keep the secret of the Lady Rhia when he found her playing in the passages within the walls of the palace?”
“Holy hells, I forgot all about that little incident. I was so young at the time I don’t even remember how I got into those tunnels or how you found me.”
“One of the exit doors is close to a seldom used gate that the Noman had not secured. I hid in the passages hoping things would be chaotic enough outside that I could slip out. I got out of the Citadel unseen, but getting to the wall of the City was another matter. I slipped into one of the thick groves between the Citadel and the City wall. I don’t believe they discovered how I did it because they didn’t notice me until I was almost in the trees.”
“But you fell off a horse? Where did you get it from?”
“I had no way to get to a hover, and I would not have been able to take one into the cover of the trees anyway. Luckily, the attack happened before the Groomsmen brought the last of the horses in from the farthest pasture near the City wall. I grabbed one and did not look back, even though I was wounded.”
“So why wasn’t I told about the passages?”
“They were built in the days of your forefathers during the re-establishment of the rule of law after the Breaking. Upon the death of the High Counsel, the knowledge is passed from the dying ruler to the next High Counsel. They are only known to the High Counsel and me but you would have been told when it was time for you to ascend to the title.”
“If the location of the tunnels is only passed from one High Counsel to another, then why do you know of them?” Joan asked, her brow arched skeptically.
“I have been the steward of those passages for almost forty years now, and sworn to secrecy by the High Counsel himself. He did not think it wise that he be the only person in Draema to know their location. He wanted them in good working order, which meant someone had to maintain them. If he hadn’t confided in me and made me the keeper of those passages all those years ago, I would not have been able to save you when you were a child. And I would have had no way to get out of the City today.”
“Why wouldn’t you have been able to get me out? I was certainly yelling loud enough.” In spite of the gravity of the situation, Rhia laughed.
“Yes, you were quite vigorous about the business,” Mannon chuckled. “But sounds made within those passages can only be heard from inside those walls.”
“Sound proofed?” Rhia asked, incredulous. “Seriously?”
“Yes. I only entered once every week or so. If I hadn’t happened to be inside at the time, you might have starved to death. I would have come upon you eventually, but you had ventured into a part of the passages that is farthest from the Citadel and leads under the City itself and exits across the river.”
“So nobody else has been in those tunnels?” Rhia asked, wanting, needing reassurance that there was at least a glimmer of hope.
“There are two others.”
“But, I thought...”
“One of them is here; the other is your husband.”
Rhia knew her mouth hung open, but closing it proved impossible. She hadn’t seen any of this coming. After a few steadying breaths, she said, “Somebody here has been in those tunnels? Who, damn it?”
He turned slowly to Sharyn, who simply stared back. She said not a word, and neither did Mannon. It simply wasn’t necessary.
Finally, Sharyn spoke. “When we first came to Draema Proper summoned by your father, we met Mannon at the stables before we were well off our horses. He said your father did not wish for us to be seen, as the matter was one of life and death. Most urgent. Mannon escorted RuArk and me to a door at the back of the Citadel, then through the tunnels and directly to your father’s offices where he awaited us.”
“And you never told me?”
“I am a woman of honor. It was obvious that the knowledge shared with RuArk and me was not to be revealed. Besides, was there a reason to disclose such knowledge before now, Rhia?”
“So,” Joan jumped in, “we have a couple of things to worry about here—getting into the Citadel unseen, which we seem to have an answer to, and second is finding RuArk and the High Counsel and getting them out of there.”
“Yes,” added Sharyn, “but we do not know who else is involved. We cannot simply walk in there not knowing who to trust.”
She had a point.
Joan spoke. “From what we know, Collaidh helped the Noman gain entry to the City. We also know that this Not-Bryan is controlling them somehow. But Sharyn is right. We don’t know who else is being manipulated. What if other Council members are involved?”
Rhia had the answer to their most pressing question. “We won’t trust anyone. Period.” She rose from her spot beside Mannon, determined and focused. “Our family is in a hot place, so whatever we do we must get to Collaidh and either capture or kill him if we hope to get them out of hell.”
Actually, it was more like the east side of the seventh level of Hell...in summertime.