Exeres knew he was going to die. A battle raged in his mind, as Miestri fought to quiet him. Mage prevailed, his strength bludgeoning her seething thoughts.
“For a sign that what I have said is true,” Exeres went on, gripping the edge of the wagon to keep himself standing. “You will see no more wagons with supplies from Landmoor. The city is closed to you now and forever. Commander Phollen has an alliance with the Shae. Break your teeth against her walls, Rebellion. For you will all die down here in the cursed Shoreland where your predecessors met this same fate.”
“His head! Bring me his head!”
Exeres felt the weight of both of them on his mind. Pustules of pain inside his skull swelled and burst. He collapsed to his knees.
—Why are you doing this, old man?—
—Because Dairron will lose, little one. Our game ends here—
—It isn’t over yet. I can counter you—
—You don’t know how. You’ve played right into my hands—
—You’ve only exposed your own weakness, old man—
—It is your weakness I’ve exposed. You’ve hungered for my dominion, little one. Shall we see if you are worthy of it?—
—You challenge me? You are a fool!—
—Am I? It is time you learned at last which of us is stronger. Come, little one. Or I’ll destroy this army right now—
Three soldiers clambered up the side of the wagon, naked swords in their hands.
“Achrolese, receive me though unworthy,” Exeres prayed, bowing his head. He waited for a sword to bite through his neck.
“I receive you, my son,” came a man’s voice. Mage’s voice.
A figure in black robes fringed with green straightened on the wagon, clutching the orb of fire in his hand. It blazed with reddish light. Thunder boomed in the sky. Boomed again, so loud that men clamped their ears and horses screamed. Exeres looked up at the heavens and saw darkness gather, blotting out the stars. Then the sky cracked, splintering into a million shards like a mirror crushed by a hammer, and red-orange flames began raining down.
The world went black.
Chapter XVII
The jarring and swaying of the horseback ride woke Thealos. How many miles had been covered, he did not know, but his shoulders throbbed with every gallop and he thought his head would tumble off his shoulders from the whip and jerk of it all. Exhaustion had settled deep into his bones and seemed intent on rooting there. Opening his eyes took effort and the blurry scene made him dizzy. He tried to scratch an itch on his nose, but discovered that both his hands were tied behind his back and rigged to the saddle cantle. His legs were also confined with tight cords looped and tied off around the saddle girth and stirrups.
He could hardly move.
It took a moment to beat down a surge of panic. Had the Kiran Thall won the battle after all? One horseman led the way and he heard another behind him. The man in front wore blood-spattered armor that marked him as a knight of Owen Draw.
Of all the ungrateful…
He tossed the thought aside and let his mind go to work. Had they secured him as a prisoner or to help him keep on the saddle? Some words had been spoken before he blacked out. What had they said?
The sense of the wellspring floated through his thoughts, recalling the moment with clarity. It’s him. Tie him up.
What had they meant? Jaerod wasn’t around—again—to do his thinking for him, so he tried to puzzle it on his own. It’s him. They had been expecting to run into a Sleepwalker. Tie him up. They did not expect the Sleepwalker to be a friend—or to come along willingly.
True, Sleepwalkers had a reputation. People distrusted what they did not understand. Since one of the nine Oaths had been the Oath of Silence, Thealos understood why Sleepwalkers did not share the knowledge of their powers with others. It was forbidden them to do so. What kind of man did these knights expect him to be? A Sleepwalker working for the Bandit Rebellion? But that didn’t make any sense, since he had attacked the Kiran Thall to free them.
What was it then? The horse hit an uneven patch of ground and Thealos lurched to one side and would have fallen if the ropes hadn’t held him there. They were setting a brutal pace across the—he looked around—the Inland valleys! Ban it! They were going the wrong direction!
“Where are you taking me?” Thealos yelled at the lead knight.
He heard the reply come behind him. “Not much further, Sleepwalker. Don’t be foolish now.”
Thealos fought down the urge to wriggle against the bonds. Even if he had his strength, he doubted that he could have broken free. A flicker of memory came to him. The ropes would not be able to hold him if he did not let them. Many lives lived before his spoke of a time when ropes had fallen off because of the Oath magic.
That gave him a little relief until he craned his neck and looked back at the knight following him. The knight wore the princess’s blade strapped to his waist.
Thealos looked down at his own belt, but the pouch with the stones was gone.