Suppose they managed to get around the army and rejoin what was left of the Cheydinhal guards and the Imperial company. Suppose they managed to stay ahead of that thing long enough to reach the Imperial City. What then? Another evacuation? Because, by Mauloch, what was going to stop that?
As dawn slid red claws up from behind the world, she saw that the wormies had all passed, at least for the time being, so she shook Brennus awake.
“You let me sleep all night,” he accused.
“I never got sleepy,” she said.
They packed quickly, starting off south and then turning west, alternating between jogging and walking, hoping to flank the main mass of the wormies. It was easy enough to see where they were, at least-Umbriel could be seen from any clear, elevated spot. But that also made it obvious they weren’t gaining very quickly on their objective.
Most of the undead army marched together, but they were constantly sending out hunting parties in search of more bodies to steal. Brenn and she avoided two successfully, but were spotted by a third a few hundred yards behind them as they were crossing some fallow fields. They picked up their pace, but Mazgar knew Brennus wouldn’t be able to keep it up for long.
She was right; less than an hour later he began to falter, and their pursuers started gaining.
She spotted a farmstead up ahead and steered them toward that. It was abandoned, so they broke in and barricaded the door. There were no windows.
“How many of ’em do you think there are?” Brennus asked as various implements began thudding into the door.
“Fifteen, I guess.”
“You can’t count any higher than that,” he said. “It could be thirty.”
“Could be,” she said. “Doesn’t really matter, does it? They can only get at us one or two at a time.”
“Oh, well, I can’t dispute that logic,” he said.
There was a splintering sound, and daylight and the edge of an ax appeared. Mazgar rested Sister, point down, and took long, deep breaths, watching as the door disintegrated and the leering, rotting faces of the enemy appeared.
“Stand back a bit,” Brennus said as the first of them came through.
“You save your strength,” she snapped, but it was too late. A sheet of white fire erupted from the earth a few feet on the other side of the door. She saw at least three of the things more or less disintegrated immediately. Half of one fell into the house, but it didn’t move again.
She glared at Brennus, but he was sitting against the wall, eyes closed, face pallid.
“All yours now,” he said.
So she waited until the eldritch flame began to subside and then placed herself in the frame of the door so Sister could swing freely outside.
But when the spell dissipated, she saw there weren’t any wormies left standing. She found herself regarding instead about twenty men in heavy armor, most astride barded horses. Two were dismounted, making certain the wormies weren’t going to get up. When they saw her, one of them doffed his helmet, revealing a dark Dunmer face.
“I’m glad we got here in time,” he said. “We spied them chasing you from the hilltop a while back, but we had a lot of ground to cross.” He bowed his head a little. “I’m Ilver Indarys, and these are the Knights of the Thorn.”
“Mazgar gra Yagash,” she said, “Imperial scouts.”
“You were at Cheydinhal? You can tell us what happened? We were dealing with some of these things in the South-had no idea a whole army of them was coming down on the city. We found it empty.”
“Most evacuated,” she told him. “We held them back long enough to give the refugees a head start, and that’s when we got cut off.”
“Thanks Azura,” he murmured. “That’s good to know. They’re on the Blue Road, then? Ahead of that monstrous thing?”
“Yes, so far as I know,” she replied.
“We need to join them, then,” he said. “We have extra mounts, if you would like to ride with us.”
“I would love a horse,” Brennus said from behind her.
“Knowing you, you probably would,” Mazgar said. “Would you read it poetry first?”
“Whatever it wants to hear,” he replied.
“I was implying-” she began.
“Right,” he said. “I got it. Can we go now?”
THIRTEEN
When the stonework of the castle gave way to living rock, Irinja stopped.
“It’s farther down there,” she said. “There’s a gate, with a lock. I don’t have the key. And I… I won’t go any farther.”
“Why not?” Sul asked suspiciously.
“I don’t want to see him. Or hear him,” she replied. “They say he wails and curses.”
“Who comes down here?” Attrebus asked.
“No one,” she replied.
“Someone has to feed him.”
She shook her head. “He quit eating after the first year. We kept bringing him food for another year more, but it always went untouched.”
“And after he hadn’t eaten for a year-he was still wailing and cursing?”
“Yes.”
“Thanks, Irinja,” Attrebus said. “This will be far enough.”
Her face seemed to darken in the light of the lantern and she looked down. Sul rolled his eyes and stepped a bit away.
When they had a bit of privacy, Attrebus gave her a little kiss. “I hope you’re not sorry about last night,” he said.
“I’m not,” she replied. “It was nice. I just don’t want you to think ill of me.”
“I couldn’t do that, Irinja.”
“I know you’re a prince. I know I was just a dalliance, and I never expected more. But I don’t want you to think I’m like this all the time. That I’m a bad person.”
“I think you’re an excellent person,” he said. “Now-are we straight on that?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Just be careful. I don’t want you to get into trouble over this.”
She shrugged, then kissed him lightly on the lips. “Goodbye,” she said, then turned and quickly retreated back up the stairs she had just led them down.
“That wasn’t wise, letting her go,” Sul said.
“Well, I don’t make a habit of punishing people for helping me,” Attrebus replied. “Anyway, it’s done.”
“It certainly is,” Sul said.
“Look, we know where the sword is, at least. You can thank me for that.”
“I suppose I could thank parts of you, anyway,” Sul replied. “Your brain not among them. Never mind-let’s go.”
The passage was roughly hewn, and continued down into the bedrock the castle stood upon for another sixty feet or so, then opened into what appeared to be a natural cavern. The gate Irinja had mentioned was there, but when Attrebus pushed experimentally on it, it swung open.
He drew his sword and looked around, but on his side of the gate there was no place to hide.
“I don’t like this,” Sul said.
“Why? I don’t hear any wailing or cursing, do you? He’s dead. He’s been dead for years. Probably whoever
