lullaby.
The young swordsman glared at the sleeping Gwag, letting his anger overpower his sorrow. “Why would you save the beast that killed your friend?”
“The beast was bound to guard this place from trespass.” Hyden sat at the edge of the fountain’s retaining wall and cupped a handful of the water. He let it drain between his fingers as he continued. “If we left the fountain unguarded, and some dark sentient beast or a power-hungry man were allowed to abuse it, where would we be?” He looked Jicks directly in the eye. “That creature was only doing its duty.”
Jicks nodded that he understood. “What if it had been you or the princess that had gotten killed?”
“Unlike me, or Oarly, you are here because of duty, so this might be harder for you to understand.” Hyden watched Corva climb out of the pool studying his healed flesh with curious yellow eyes. “I am more than willing to die for my friends, Jicks. Oarly was, too. He died an honorable death. His life was given to heal Phen and Talon, and I suppose the princess, too. If I knew my death would bring peace and long life to those I love, I would welcome it.” He had to chuckle ironically at his own words. He meant them, but here he was doing everything except trying to kill Gerard, or the Demon Lord he’d become. He was dead set on banishing his brother to the hells for good instead. Was it because he knew that when Gerard died, he would, too? Was he afraid to die? No, he decided, as he fought back tears of sorrow. If he could trade places with Oarly that moment, he would have. It was something else.
If it was truly as simple as facing death, he thought, he would have the courage to meet his fate. He wasn’t sure that it wasn’t coming to exactly that anyway. If he failed to banish his warlord brother, he would have to kill him. According to the goddess, his duty was to maintain the balance. Hyden contemplated this long after the group had rejoined in the first chamber where they had made some semblance of a camp.
The princess had her memory back and was worried about her mother and what her arrogant people might have done in her absence. She was also saddened beyond measure, not only because of Oarly’s death, but because of the deaths of the others in her life, particularly her father, and the elven party back on Salaya.
Phen looked bad, but only because his body was starving for sustenance. His hair and robes were still bleached white, but his skin was mottled pink with color from his blood resuming its flow. Telgra, between bouts of sobbing, forced Phen to eat cheese, meat and dried fruit. He took more than one piece of the nutrient-rich herb bread that Princess Gretta had slipped her before they left Afdeon. After Dostin fell asleep, Phen kissed Telgra on the cheek and lay down in his bedroll. She lay down next to him and soon joined his slumber.
Hyden, with Spike scampering along beside him, went back to the Leif Repline fountain and sat cross-legged on the retaining wall around it. He sank into a trance and sought his goddess.
His choices, and the price they were demanding of his companions, were weighing heavily on his soul. He wasn’t sure what he would ask her for, or if he would seek her guidance at all. All he knew was that after losing his brother to the darkness, and friend after friend to war and quest, he needed to feel her ethereal presence. Losing Oarly was as hard a loss as any he had ever felt. The end of his brother, Vaegon Willowbrow and Brady Culvert, just to name a few, had pained him deeply. Now, with the ornery dwarf added to the list, the weight of the dead was threatening to drag him down. He couldn’t allow that to happen. Hopefully, the goddess would lighten his burden somehow.
Long after the others had gone still, Phen found a restless sleep. He dreamt at first of toothy trolls and savage demons. He was being chased through a long, dark cavern. Whatever the things were behind him, they were right on his heels. They wanted to eat his flesh, to tear it from his bones like the troll had done Mort. The cavern turned narrower and graduated into a tunnel. He had to scrabble for every inch of his retreat. His nose filled with the smell of dirt and stale air. Buzzing, clicking insects crawled over his skin, and the ripe breath of what was behind him warmed his neck. He couldn’t seem to gain any distance from the fiends, but ahead, he saw a light, an opening out of the depths, where he was crawling.
Phen’s breath came in ragged gasps. His lungs felt weak and tired. His body was giving up on him. The opening was right there and yet he couldn’t get to it. With all he had left, he reached for the light. Oddly, an invisible hand grasped his and hauled him up through the hole. Standing now on a wooden plank floor, he looked up to see a long oak table laden with delicacies and crowded with feasters.
The room was plain, yet warm and homey. Torches rested in plain brass sconces along the walls. The floor was littered with straw and rushes. A pair of stealthy dogs moved among the feet, hunting for scraps.
As Phen watched the dogs, he saw a pair of boots that dangled from the chair, but stopped a foot from the floor. He looked above the table and found Oarly there. The dwarf was chewing a mouthful of meat while downing a mug of ale. Master Wizard Targon sat at the head of the table. To his right sat Master Wizard Amill. To his left was a young man in red enamel plate armor. It was Brady Culvert, and he was smiling broadly. There were a few dozen other faces that Phen recognized. Some he knew well, but others only vaguely. All of them, though, had died battling evil.
Oarly banged his mug with the young Red Wolf fighter’s in toast. The dwarf suddenly jumped up on the table and rested his boot on the head of the glazed pig. They all turned to face Phen. There was a lot of love, but a tinge of jealous longing in their eyes.
Oarly downed his drink and wiped the froth from his tangled beard. “Your almost a grown man now, lad.” Oarly’s tone was fatherly. “This war of Hyden Hawk’s is not yours. When it is done, the realm will need you. Keep to your books, and follow your heart.” Oarly reached out his mug to a beautiful serving girl and let her refill it. After he took a deep swill he went on. “There’s got to be a ray of hope in all of this. Plant that seed! Heal the old wounds.” Oarly grinned. “Do it for Doon, lad.”
Telgra’s arm wrapped around him in the sleepy chamber and Phen’s dreams wavered away from him. When he awoke, he remembered Oarly’s words, but wasn’t sure what they meant. The first thing he did was give Hyden Hawk back his dragon tear medallion. Phen found he didn’t want it anymore.
Hyden nodded and took the dragon tear in respectful understanding. The White Goddess had given him a message, as well. He knew he would have to face on his own most of what was left to be done. Hyden couldn’t ask anyone to follow him further, especially those he held dear.
Chapter 44
“Oh, it’s beautiful, Mikahl,” Queen Rosa said. The two of them stood atop a tower facing the southeast. The High King was draped in the golden lion’s mane cloak Queen Willa had gifted him. Queen Rosa was wrapped in a thick, silver-furred long coat. The view was pristine. Lion’s Lake might have been a sheet of glass; only the arrow- shaped wakes of a small flock of swimming geese shimmered along to indicate that it wasn’t frozen solid. To the west of the lake, the pine- and fir-scattered hills were a winter green wonderland of rolling drifts. A light snow fell lazily from the sky. In the near ground, what bit of the southern castle yard they could see was a bustle of adolescent youth. They were taking turns riding shields they had looted from one of the armories down a long, lazy slope. From above the sledders, but below the king and queen, the turret patrol heaved shovelfuls of snow down upon the youngsters as they cleaned the walkways atop their wall. Some of the children had built a snow fort to protect them from the assault. A few braver boys were firing back snowballs of their own. Every now and then one of them would manage to hit a guard. When that happened, a chorus of cheers went up from below. Mikahl had been one of those young warriors once, and silently urged the youth on.
Mikahl had recently suggested a feast as a way to boost morale for the folk in and around the castle. They’d had a rough time over the past few years, with Glendar’s failing and the Dragon Queen’s occupation.
He was pleased that his wife liked the idea. To his surprise, she and Lady Able took command of the preparations, saying that it was important that, while the event be grand and uplifting, it shouldn’t be too much so. It would be improper to eclipse the Yule Day festival with a lesser affair. And even though Yule Day was a few months off, Mikahl agreed and let the women have their way.
Shouts from the ground to the north caught their attention and they strode to the parapet hand in hand to see what the ruckus was about. A group of riders escorting a carriage were coming in. The carriage flew the High King’s lion, the Red Wolf of Wildermont’s flag, and another banner boasting an axe crossing a hammer. It trundled through the North Road gate and slowed to a stop. Mikahl let out a bellowing cloud of breath and laughed. He turned to his wife with a face-splitting grin.
“I think King Jarrek has accepted our invitation to feast,” he said hopefully. “And it looks as if General
