Chains of Light Page 4

  Delan was silent for a moment, focusing on saddling the horse he had chosen. Then he answered, "Arthemia was my General. And when I rode with her at the end, I was her second."

  "You?" Brina gasped. "Holy Mother... Delan... I always thought it was an unusual name. That's because that's not your full name, is it? Your name is Markedelan!"

  Delan looked up sharply at sound of the name he hadn't heard in months. "How did you know my name?"

  "You're the Man Who Fights?"

  "All men fight. Some of us are more open about it. How did you know my name?"

  "Arthemia was one of us!" Brina answered. "She rode on the order of the Holy Mother, one of the only warbands we could muster to try and do right by our people. She was the War-leader here in the Temple before me. Oh, Warrior, if I'd known... she told us about you. About the male who could have been a warleader of his own merit. About how she wanted to bring you back, to have you dedicated to Lyas! Why didn't you tell us your full name? And why didn't she send you to us when you were hurt?"

  "Because she died," Delan said softly. "That was how I took the injury—trying to save her."

  "Warrior hold her." Brina breathed. "We didn't know she'd fallen. It would be months between her letters at times." She slapped her horse firmly on the neck, then shook her head. "Time to mourn is later. Now, we need to ride."

  "What are they going to do to him, Brina?" Delan asked as he mounted his horse.

  "If we're lucky, all they'll do is sacrifice him," Brina answered, leading the way out of the stables. "That will release the power he contains and probably kill them all in the process."

  Delan felt as if a rock had settled in the pit of his stomach. He didn't want to know, but he had to ask regardless." And if we're not lucky?"

  Brina looked back, her face was bleak in the torchlight. "They'll break him first."

  THE CART BUMPED HARD and the swaying stopped. Lyander moaned in pain behind his gag and instinctively tried to shift, tried to hide. Ropes dug painfully into his arms and legs, and he stopped struggling. There was no way to move, no way to escape. Nowhere to go, even if he could get free of the ropes layered over the temple chains his captors hadn’t bothered to remove. Jyase and his men had taken him from the Temple, cutting down anyone in their path, and presented him to a woman whose face was hidden by her helm, who had nodded without a word and ridden off.

  They hadn't followed her. Not immediately. It seemed that Jyase had other plans. He let his men sport with their chained captive, and they passed Lyander back and forth among themselves, toying with him as if he were a doll, laughing over his struggles and helplessness. When his protests and pleading grew too loud, they gagged him, and continued with their tormenting, until at last Jyase strode through the crowd, whipping them off as if they were dogs fighting over a bone. He'd taken Lyander and dragged him off toward the cart, and for a moment Lyander had thought that his ordeal was over.

  Jyase had shown him otherwise. And it was worse. So much worse when it came at the hands of someone that Lyander had trusted. Had loved. He'd fought, remembering things Delan had explained to him, and had managed to land one lucky kick, knocking the wind out of Jyase.

  That had been the reason for the beating. Jyase had used a strap, then his fists, and Lyander wasn't certain he could have moved even if he hadn't been bound. He certainly couldn't have run. Jyase had focused most of his attentions with the strap on the soles of Lyander's feet.

  Outside the cart, Lyander heard voices coming closer. One of them was Jyase—Lyander would know his voice anywhere—the other was a woman. As they came closer, he heard her voice clearly. "It hasn't yet been violated?"

  "No, Mistress. I stopped the men before they got that far."

  "Good. I want this to be a complete victory over the pretender god. We destroyed the false priests, now we will destroy the vessel. Bring it to the altar and prepare it for sacrifice. I've looked forward to this day for a very long time."

  IT WAS A CLEAR NIGHT, and the newly-risen moon was bright enough to turn the frost-covered ground to a glittering pathway. Which made the trail the raiders took clear. The dark path was a gash cut through the diamond studded sedge. Delan tried not to consider it an evil omen and urged his horse forward.

  "How long was I unconscious?" he asked.

  "Not too long. The attacks happened at sunset, just as we were preparing for sunset meditations. When did they breach the Thraya?"

  "Just after full dark," Delan answered. "I noticed it was dark when we came out of the bathing chamber. We hid underwater the first time they came through." He frowned down at his reins. "I wasn't ready for the second time."

  "You can't blame yourself, Delan," Brina said firmly.

  "How did Jyase know?" Delan demanded. "How did he know what Lyander is if it's part of the mysteries?"

  Brina growled slightly. "Did the Holy Mother tell you when you came to the temple that you were not to dally with the Sisters?"

  "Yes, I remember telling her it wouldn't be an issue. She thought that was funny," Delan answered. "Why?"

  "Because one of the Sisters was sleeping with Jyase, and apparently telling him things he should never have known," Brina said. "That was why he was turned out. The little idiot was bearing his child."

  "Oh," Delan said. He frowned and thought about it. "Why was that a problem?"

  "Because as Lyander's attendant, he was supposed to cleave only to Lyander. He betrayed the oath he swore and we turned him out." Brina looked at him curiously. "You didn't swear an oath?"

  Delan licked his lips. "Honestly, I can't remember. I probably did, but all I remember was being told there was a young man in the Temple, and I was not only encouraged to lay with him, it was expected of me! I thought I was dreaming."

  Brina snorted, amused, and Delan turned his attention back to the road. "There! They turned off there!"

  "Can you tell how long ago?" Brina asked.

  Delan dismounted and awkwardly went to one knee studying the ground, the frost-bitten grasses and the broken stems.

  "Things are starting to freeze again," he said after a moment. "Not too long. We're catching them." He looked up at Brina. "What happens when we do? There were at least six of them. I'm not good for more than two or three, I think."

  "We'll know when we get there," Brina said softly. "Mount up."

  "Do you have any idea where they're going?" Delan asked, hauling himself back into his horse and following the trail. "I don't know this ground."

  "I think so. There was a cloister up here once. A school, if you will. For young men who had just entered Lyas' service. So they could learn sorcery without being a danger to anyone." Brina's voice carried through the still, night air. "I've read about it, in the archives. When the Light bitches attacked at the beginnings of the last battle, they struck the school first. It was a massacre. By the time the Sisters knew and could get a defense force up here, it was too late, and two hundred men and boys were slaughtered like cattle."

  Delan’s brow slightly furrowed as he tried not to think of Lyander suffering the same fate. "So this land once belonged to the Temple. Do you know the area?"

  Brina turned in her saddle and glanced at him. "Pretty well. We'd drill out here. Why?"

  "They're probably using the ruins of the cloister as a base, I would think," Delan answered. "Is there anywhere we could check the lay of the land without being seen?"

  Brina nodded and turned back, urging her horse forward. "I know a place. It will be hard to get there, though. We won't be able to take the horses in. Are you up for rock climbing?"

  Delan fought back a grimace. "I can do it."

  Brina said nothing in response. She simply led the way to a hidden cave where they left the horses. Then she tied a rope around her own waist and offered the other end to Delan. He took the rope, tying it off firmly, bracing himself as Brina tugged on her end.

  "From this point until I tell you otherwise, not a word," she murmured. "These rocks echo."

  D
elan followed Brina as she scrambled up the side of the cliff. She went slowly, pointing out footholds and handholds as she went, pausing often so Delan could gather himself and catch his breath. But still, by the time she led him into a level pocket of the cliffside, Delan could taste the blood in his mouth from where he'd bitten his lip to keep from crying in pain.

  "Should’ve left you at the bottom," Brina whispered into his ear as she untied the rope.

  "And if you didn't come back? Where would we be?" Delan answered, his voice pitched low. "I'm fine. I'm used to this. Now, where are we going?"

  Brina snorted and gestured, crawling further into the shadows, then out onto a flat ledge. She lay down and waved Delan up next to her. He stretched out flat, burying his face in his arm to hide the tell-tale tendrils of his breath in the cold night air, and looked out into the valley. There was a clear view of the ruined cloister below, and of the camp that had been erected in what once must have been a courtyard. There were torches ringing the tent, that clearly lit the area; Delan frowned counting tents, campfires, sentries, then nodded and tapped Brina's arm. They crawled backward into the pocket, and Delan slumped against the rock wall.

  "I counted maybe twelve," he said softly. "Two by the fire, three by the wagon, two on patrol on the near side of the ruin, two on the far side, possibly three inside that large tent. What happened to the rest of them? It would have taken more than a dozen to take the Temple."

  "They don't need a warband for the ritual. They were probably sent back to their base. How did you see inside?" Brina asked.

  "Shadows. There's a fire inside and when they passed in front of it, I could see their shadows where the wall had fallen. One of them was a woman, I think."

  "I'd be surprised if there wasn't at least one Priestess down there," Brina murmured. "Count on at least one acolyte, too. Those damned Light bitches never travel alone. Twelve is too many. How do we do this?"

  Delan blinked, startled out of his pain-filled stupor by the question. "You're asking me?"

  "You're the Man Who Fights." Was the surprising answer. "Arthemia told us that you had a way with tactics the like of which she'd never seen before. So... what do we do?"

  Delan scowled, leaned back against the rocks and closed his eyes. "I don't know the terrain, I don't know their real strength or their weapons. I don't even know if Lyander is in there! How am I supposed to plan an attack when I don't have all the information?"

  "Do your best," Brina answered. "That's all you can do."

  "That's what she always said." Delan sighed at the memory. "Arthemia. She told me the same thing."

  "She learned it from our mother," she replied. "I'll leave you to think."

  "Wait," Delan said. Brina turned toward him, silent as a stone. "You know what they're going to do, don't you?"

  "I have an idea..." she hesitated. "I've heard about their Dark ritual. They'll break him before they sacrifice him. Torture, possibly rape. Then the sacrifice will be with the dawn. Is that what you needed to know?"

  "Yes," Delan answered. Brina moved away into the shadows, leaving him alone. He grumbled, then crawled back out onto the ledge and stared down into the ruin. He lay there long enough that the cold seeped through his clothes, sinking into his bones and making them ache. But by the time he finally shook himself and crawled back to find Brina, he knew there were actually fourteen people down in the ruins, that only two of them were women, that the eight sentries were lazy and incompetent.

  And from the screams that suddenly shattered the frozen midnight stillness, Delan knew that the torture had started.

  Chapter 5

  On the Offensive

  Brina took the first two of the sentries, moving like smoke through the trees and killing the men with almost casual ease. Delan followed behind her, his bow held ready, feeling the calm quiet he remembered so clearly from his days as a soldier. The calm before the battle, Arthemia had called it, the first time he'd described it to her. The signs of a true warrior, one worthy of her time and attention. Privately, Delan doubted her assessment—he was male, after all—but he'd paid careful attention to Arthemia during the times when she instructed him, and he remembered. Now, hopefully, all those long hours would pay.

  Brina rose from the body of the second sentry and glanced at Delan. He waved her on and followed, trying to move as silently as she and failing miserably, until they reached the edge of the wood. This close to the ruin, they could hear laughter from within—a woman's laughter, and loud, ragged sobbing. Delan growled softly at the sound, fury overwhelming his calm.

  "Easy, Delan." Brina breathed into his ear. "We can't help him if we're dead."

  Delan nodded, closing his eyes and taking a long breath, letting the cold air damp the fires within until he could think clearly. He nodded once more, touching Brina's arm. She patted his shoulder and slipped away into the darkness, moving around one side of the clearing. Delan went the other way, listening intently.

  He found the next sentry easily enough. The man had built a tiny fire in a tiny hollow underneath a tree, and was crouched over it, holding his hands over the little blaze for warmth. He obviously heard Delan approaching. His head jerked up at the sound of branches and leaves crackling. But he didn't move from his fire, instead pulling a pipe out of his pouch and lighting it with an ember. Delan smelled the acrid sweetness of dreamweed, and managed to bite down on a sigh of disgust. Morons. The sentries were all morons. How did they expect to hold the ruin if they didn't have competent people to defend it?

  Delan frowned at the thought, then shook his head. He nocked his arrow, drew, and fired. The sentry fell with a bolt in his throat, and his body smothered the little fire.

  Delan moved on.

  Halfway around the clearing, the sounds from the ruins went still. Delan froze, then heard the warbling of a night bird. A moment later, Brina appeared out of the shadows.

  "It got quiet," Delan whispered.

  "They'll keep him alive until dawn," Brina answered, her voice sounding strained. "They're leaving him alone or he's passed out."

  "Pray to the Warrior you're right. How many sentries?" Delan asked her.

  "Four."

  "There were three on this side," Delan said. "That makes nine with the two you killed on our way in."

  "One of mine was taking a piss. Maybe he was from inside?" Brina suggested.

  Delan nodded, scowling as he silently counted corpses. "There are only five left," he said. "One of them is the Priestess. One of them is Jyase. Is he a good fighter? He didn't attack when they took me down. He let his men do it."

  "I don't know. He didn't take weapons training with me," Brina said. "Do you think you can take him?"

  Delan thought back to the Thraya and seeing Jyase. How he moved, how he held his weapon and how he carried himself. An evil suspicion bloomed. "Brina? How did he come to you?"

  "Same as you did. Showed up around the first snow, looking for a place. Why?"

  Delan swallowed past the lump in his throat. "Who taught him? He knows how to fight. He knows enough at least to know how to move. He's been trained. I didn't get any weapons training until I met Arthemia. I've never heard of a male getting real weapons training, even if the warlady meant for them to be expendable. But just here we had eleven of them, even if most of them were idiots. And there were others at the Temple. So who trained them? Who trained Jyase?"

  Brina went very still, then started swearing softly under her breath. "You're saying he was planted? That he knew what he was looking for?"

  "I think so, yes," Delan answered. "Was he the first caretaker?"

  "No. Before him there was Anaki, and before Anaki was Trivir," Brina answered. She frowned. "Anaki was with us for most of a year and left us to marry when his village sweetheart came looking for him. He lives with his wife and children about five miles east of here. They come to the Temple now and then to visit, and they named their oldest boy Lyan. Trivir... he was the first boy we brought in. He was a nice boy, but a little si
mple. He went home to take care of his mother after a half a year when she became ill. Their village was razed a few months later. Lyander doesn't know."

  "Was he killed?" Delan asked.

  "We never found him or his mother," Brina said. "You think he told?"

  "Given what Jyase knew, I think it's likely. And if you all thought Trivir was simple, I'll bet you weren't as circumspect as you should have been. We had a scout like that, she could make people think she was cloud struck, and they talked around her as if she weren't there. We learned more from her in a week than we did in months of surveillance." Delan shook his head. "Right, so we can be pretty certain that Jyase was sent by the Light to confirm whatever they'd learned from Trivir. He knew about Lyander. And he probably seduced the girl so that he'd have a reason to get thrown out of the Temple. I just don't understand why!"

  "Why what?"

  "Why go through all the trouble. Why spend years, at the very least, in training men to be warriors, then send them into the Temple to find someone who may not really have existed."

  "To destroy Lyas completely." Brina answered. "If he can be reborn once, he can be reborn again. But what happens if he dies while he's mortal? If Lyander dies without ever assuming his full potential?"

  "You... you tell me. What happens?"

  Brina shook her head. "I don't know. But I imagine they think that if Lyander dies, Lyas dies. Forever."

  Delan swallowed. "They've been planning a long time for this."

  "Probably since the Lyan priests fell. They must have guessed Lyas would rise again. So they've been waiting for a Temple son, just in case. They'd have taken Lyander even if he wasn't Lyas reborn. Come on. They'll notice that other one is gone before too long."

  They stopped under cover at the edge of the clearing, close enough to the tent that they could hear movement from within. Delan pulled his scarf up over his mouth to hide his breath, and nudged Brina until she did the same. From inside the tent, they could hear a woman, her voice high-pitched and angry-sounding.