Darkfire: A Book of Underrealm (19 page)

Rain drizzled as they slid back along the fortress wall, and by the time they reached the others it was pouring. Albern told Jordel what they had seen — so far as he knew, a caravan like any other, proceeding into the stronghold. The Mystic listened in silence. But afterward he looked over Albern’s shoulder to see Loren standing silent, arms folded around herself, staring at the floor.

“Loren? What is it?”

She looked up at Jordel, then at Annis. “I … I know the caravan. I know whose it is.”

“Who?” Then the Mystic’s eyes widened, and his lips slightly parted.

“Yes,” said Loren. “It is a Yerrin caravan, and Damaris is with them.”

There was a long moment of silence.
 

Annis broke it with a scream.

“No!
No, you are lying!”

Jordel pounced upon her, wrapping one arm around the girl’s shoulders and placing a hand over her mouth. She fought and kicked, even trying to bite his hand, though he would not allow it. Albern ran to the cave mouth and looked up, peering back and forth, then quickly returned his attention to them.
 

“No one about, and the rain’s masking much of the sound in any case. But still — no more shouting.”

“I cannot let you go unless you promise silence,” Jordel said softly. “I understand your feelings, but you will have us all captured or killed. Do you promise?”

Annis fell still, slumping in his arms. Tears leaked from her eyes. Slowly, she nodded. Jordel released her, and she fell to her knees on the cave floor. Loren went to Annis at once, lifting her up and finding a more comfortable place to sit against the wall.

“Is this a private matter?” said Albern. “For I do not find myself as alarmed at this news, though it seems that I should.”
 

Gem stood by Jordel. His face had gone white, and his hands were shaking. “Damaris is a merchant, and a cruel woman. She nearly had us killed in Cabrus — well, Loren and I, at any rate.”

“Did you steal from her?” Albern looked at them curiously. “Merchants are notoriously protective of their wares, and I should think even you two would know that.”

“I took nothing from her,” said Gem, raising his hands.

“I did,” said Loren. “Magestones, the secret trade of their family. Their wealth has not been built only upon furs and spices and blades. They smuggle the rocks across the nine lands. That is how they came by such fortune. Also, to Damaris’ mind, I took something far more valuable — her daughter.”

Albern’s eyes went to Annis, and for a moment he was dumbstruck. “Ah,” he said at last. “Ah, I … oh dear.”

“Indeed,” said Loren. “Twice has she tried to have me killed. Third tries are charmed, they say, though I hope the charm is in my favor.”

Albern shook his head. “Are all your journeys so fraught with peril and enemies, daughter of the forests? If so, and you are ever again in need of a guide through the mountains, mayhap you should warn him first.”

“Never do I plan for such,” said Loren, slowly shaking her head. “Yet always misfortune has a way of finding me.”

“I sense more than misfortune at work,” said Jordel. “How could Damaris have come to this place? We did not even know our road would take us here.”

Gem said, “I do not think she is here looking for us.”

Loren turned to Annis. “Was this the caravan’s destination? Did Damaris plan to come to the Greatrocks all along?”

Annis stared at nothing. At first Loren thought she had not heard. But then the girl shook her head. “I do not know. I was not privy to many of Mother’s discussions about our route. I knew only that we would be traveling through Selvan, and mayhap to Dorsea after that.”

“If they came north on the Westerly Road, the stronghold would have been only a small detour,” said Albern. “A few days’ ride at most. But they would have to know it was here, and occupied, or they could have no purpose.”
 

“They must have known,” said Jordel. “Why else would they have come? There are few places to trade, and no cities save for Northwood at its head. But Northwood is no place so grand as Wellmont, or even Cabrus, and I do not think Damaris would trouble herself to go there.”

Annis swallowed hard and took a moment to breath.
 

“Then all this time, without knowing it, our steps have led us straight into my mother’s arms, when all I wanted was to avoid her. We should have gone to Dorsea. Or somewhere else. Anywhere but here.”

Jordel said, “It is too late to say what we should have done. Now we must decide what to do.”

“Well, we cannot return the way we came,” said Albern, “for now the guards will be back on patrol, and in any case I think we would still find the satyrs and harpies waiting. Nor can we leave by the eastern road, for that, too, will be watched.”

“I do not mean to leave,” said Jordel. “I mean to discover the business of the men within this fortress. They cannot be men of Selvan, for if the king were gathering such an army, I should have heard. Yet if not from Selvan, then who are they, and how have they mustered such strength of arms without anyone in my order knowing?”

“Are you certain no Mystics are aware?” Loren asked.

Jordel stared at her, eyes blank.

“I do not know everything of the Mystics,” said Loren. “Yet it seems to me that your order has many hands, and they do not always know what the others are holding. You say that some in your order will help you once we reach Feldemar, but not all. You say that Vivien reports to different masters. Could not those other Mystics, placed highly and esteemed by your brothers, know of what transpires here? Could they not have withheld such information, for their own schemes and purposes unknown?”

His face grew stony, and when Loren finished he gave a slow nod. “What you say is possible. Yet I hope it is not so. While some Mystics may play at intrigue and politics, still we are unified by our purpose, to maintain a watchful peace over the nine lands. To find that some of our own had a hand in amassing an army, out of sight and without the knowledge of their brothers, would be dark tidings indeed.”

Fear seemed to grow in the Mystic’s eyes.
 

“Jordel, I think you know who these men are,” Loren said. “Or if not, I think you may at least hazard a guess.”

“I could guess many things. Yet I would not, for it would be of little help, as we would still know nothing of the truth. And some things, some dark thoughts, may be given strength by voice alone. I shall not guess at who the men in this stronghold might be. I will look with my eyes, without fear making things greater than they are.”

“Fear cannot make things seem any darker to me,” said Annis in a tiny voice. “I do not think we will escape this place. I shall find myself back in my mother’s clutches, and once she has me I will ever escape.”

“I will not let her have you,” said Loren. “Not while my heart is still beating.”
 

“If your heart is all that stands between us, I have little hope,” said Annis. “Do you think she will hesitate to cut it out?”

Loren had no answer. Damaris had spared her before; even when Loren had thought the merchant meant to kill her with a poisonous snake, she had later discovered the serpent’s venom was not fatal. But she had little wish to rely on the merchant’s mercy again. Annis, in her mother’s clutches, might face a terrible rebuke and a lifetime of watchful eyes. Loren would more likely have her throat opened.

She shook off such thoughts. They would not help her. And what was it Jordel had said?
 

Some dark thoughts may be given strength by voice alone.

“What do you mean to do then, Jordel?” said Loren. “Whatever it is, let us begin, for I wish to be quit of this place.”

“We shall have to get inside,” said Jordel. “Some of the stronghold’s guards and soldiers must know why Damaris is here. That is something I should very much like to know. I think it strange that Vivien and her masters would not know of the merchant’s intention to come here, yet she told me nothing.”

“Get inside the fortress?” said Gem. “Those walls are quite tall. I am not unskilled when it comes to climbing, but I doubt I could scale them.”

“You have never besieged a fortress,” the Mystic said. “Gaining the ramparts will be the easier part, I think. Once inside, we shall blend in to discover what is going on.”

Gem raised a finger and opened his mouth, but Jordel silenced him with a look. “I am sorry, Gem, but you cannot come. You are only a child, however mighty your heart might be. It shall have to be me and Loren, who is young but tall.”

“And Albern, surely.” Loren looked at him in surprise. “He looks like a soldier, and is well advanced in years.”

“Well advanced, eh?” said Albern, giving her a wry smile. “I take it you mean that I am old.” Loren floundered for an answer, but he raised a hand to stop her. “Perhaps I am, to one who so recently left childhood herself. And mayhap that age has given me more caution than I had in my youth, when I marched with sellswords. I will not come on this venture. I bear little interest in this stronghold, except that now I know it is a place to avoid if I ever guide any travelers this way again. I do not know, or care to know, who the men inside might be. And if they are dangerous — which I would assume for safety’s sake, even if the lot of you were not so terrified at the arrival of this merchant — I have no desire to risk my life in their company. I am a guide and no more. You are my employers. If I had my way, we would be thinking of means to bypass the fortress entirely. It is your choice to follow your wish and break inside, but I am not bound to help you.”

“I guessed as much,” said Jordel. “You do yourself a disservice by claiming to be nothing more than a guide, but still I will honor your words and ask of you only one favor.”

He went to Albern, reaching into his coin purse before pressing gold into the bowyer’s palm.

“If anything should happen to Loren and myself, I hope you will ensure that Gem, Annis, and Xain make it safely out of the Greatrocks.”

Albern looked down to find eight gold weights in his hand. “This is more than you promised.”

“And upon this journey you have found more than you bargained for. And more still, if you must escape the mountains without us.”

Albern took Jordel’s hand and returned the coin. “It seems I have acquired your skill for bargaining, Jordel of the family Adair. I will not take more than you promised — nor, indeed, will I take as much as was pledged, for I would see the children and the wizard to safety whether or not you asked. And I will not let you march into death with a clear conscience. You owe me more gold when we reach Northwood — and not before. Be sure you are there to pay me when the time comes.”

“Only a guide indeed,” said Jordel with a smile. “Very well, then. I will return your generosity with a promise: if by any action I can ensure our safe return, I will do so. And one more thing.”

He drew Albern aside, near the cave mouth, and whispered to the bowyer. Loren strained to hear, but heard nothing before the Mystic turned his attention to her.

“Come now, Loren. Let us set out, for the sooner we return the sooner we may leave this place. And do not leave your cloak behind — for this is a time when we shall require the Nightblade.”

twenty-three

WHILE LOREN FETCHED HER BLACK cloak, Jordel shed his own and placed it folded within his saddlebags. They slipped out of the cave and into the rain, running first to the castle’s wall before creeping along it as she had already done with Albern.

When they reached the southwestern corner, Jordel paused and turned to Loren. “I told you this place was built by Mystics. And always have our strongholds had a back entrance. We know the value of information, and a messenger sent into the night may break a siege when the army inside cannot.”

“You know a way in, then?”
 

“Perhaps, but only if they have not barred the door. I hope they have not, and that they do not even know of the entrance I speak of.”

So saying, Jordel led Loren around to the northern side of the stronghold. The great stone shelf grew narrow on that side, only a few paces, and Loren looked at the cliff’s edge with apprehension. She could see the value in such a design; even if an attacking army were to send some of its soldiers around the sides, they could be easily shoved into the abyss by defenders with stones, or long polearms perhaps. Raised ladders could be cast off, flinging men to the valley floor.

But Loren could see nothing of the door Jordel had spoken of, only the same stony surface as the rest of the walls, well-laid with mortar. Yet he walked with clear purpose until reaching the western wall’s center, where he stopped to feel around with his fingers.

“What are you looking for?” Loren whispered.

“There will be a catch. It should be … ah!
Here
.”

His fingers slipped into a crack Loren had not seen, and he pulled upon something. She heard a sharp
click,
and the stones began to shift, swinging in on great iron hinges, though Loren heard almost no sound. Just the small scrape of stone grinding on stone, muffled by the pelting rain.
 

Once the gap was wide enough to enter, Jordel slipped in and waited for Loren to follow. Inside they shut the door to find themselves in utter darkness. Loren could feel the Mystic’s breath on her face, but could not see him.

“I wish I had brought a torch. Come. We shall have to feel our way. Place your hand on my shoulder.”

She did as he said, and Jordel slowly led Loren forward with one hand on the wall. They did not go far before he stopped abruptly. She reached past him to feel a wooden surface blocking their way.

“A door?” she whispered.

“More likely a shelf. Be quiet a moment.”

Loren felt him lean forward, and she pushed past him to do the same. Together they pressed their ears to the wood, searching for any sound. But after several moments, Loren heard nothing.

“It seems the cells are unoccupied,” said Jordel. “That is good. Come, help me move this.”

Together they pushed, and the shelf swung away on the same silent hinges as the stone door through which they had entered. Within, at last, there was light. The faint torch glow seemed bright as sunlight at the end of a pitch black passage. Loren saw a hallway of stone cells stretching away, each barred by an iron door. The shelf stood at the path’s end. There was no one in sight. A torch was set into the wall beside a door at the hallway’s opposite end.