A Darkness at Sethanon (Riftware Sage Book 3)

 

Martin held Briana closely. They had retired to her quarters for the afternoon. She had left word with her second-in-command she was to be disturbed only in case of grave need. Their lovemaking had been frenzied at first, then gentle. At the last they simply held each other, waiting as the moments slipped by.

 

Martin at last spoke. “I must go soon. The others will be gathering at the tunnel door into the hills.”

 

“Martin,” she whispered.

 

“What?”

 

“I just wanted to say your name.” She studied his face. “Martin.”

 

He kissed her and tasted the salt of tears upon her lips.

 

She clung to him and said, “Tell me about tomorrow.”

 

“Tomorrow?” Martin felt a sudden, unexpected confusion. He had laboured to honour her request in not speaking of the future. His elven-tempered nature offered patience, but his feelings for her demanded commitment. He had put aside the conflict that resulted from this contradiction and had lived for the present. He softly said, “You said we must not think about tomorrow.”

 

She shook her head. “I know, but now I want to.” She closed her eyes and spoke softly. “I told you once I was a commander, privy to knowledge most of the city are ignorant of. What I know is that we most likely will not hold this city and must needs flee into the hills.” She was silent for a moment, then said, “Understand, Martin, we know nothing save Armengar. The possibility of living somewhere else never occurred to any here until the Protector came among us. Now I have faint hope. Tell me about tomorrow and the day after and the day after that. Tell me of all the tomorrows. Tell me how it will be.”

 

He nestled down into the covers, gently cradling her head upon his chest, feeling a hot flush of love and urgency rise up within himself. “I will get through the mountains, Bree. There is no one who can stop me. I will bring Dolgan and his kin. That old dwarf would take it personally if he weren’t invited to this battle. We’ll hold Murmandamus at bay and ruin his campaign for a second year. His army will desert and we’ll hunt him down like the rabid animal he is and destroy him. Vandros will send his army from Yabon to bolster yours and you’ll be safe. You’ll have time for your children to be children.”

 

“And what of us?”

 

Ignoring the tears that coursed down his cheeks, he said, “You’ll leave Armengar and come to Crydee. You will live there with me and we will be happy.”

 

She cried, “I want to believe.”

 

He gently pushed her away and lifted her chin. Kissing her he said, “Believe, Bree.” His voice was hoarse with emotion. Never in his life had he thought he could feel such bittersweet happiness, for to discover that his love was returned was a joy shrouded by the shadow of coming madness and destruction.

 

She studied his face, then closed her eyes. “I want to remember you this way. Go, Martin. Don’t say anything.”

 

Quickly he rose and dressed. He silently wiped away the tears, turning his feelings inward in the elven fashion as he prepared to face the perils of the trail. With a long last look at her, he quit her chambers. When she heard the door close, she turned her face into the covers and continued to cry softly.

 

 

 

 

 

The patrol moved up toward a canyon. It had ridden out as if making a final sweep of the area before retreating behind the upper redoubts that protected the cliffs above the city. Martin and his three companions crouched down in the shelter of a large rock formation, waiting. They had left the city by the secret passage from the keep that cut through the mountain behind Armengar. Reaching a position along the patrol’s route, they hid in a narrow draw a short distance from the canyon. Blutark lay silently, Baru’s hand upon his head. The Hadati had discovered the source of Armengarian indifference to his possession of the dog. It was the first time a Beasthound had survived its master in the memory of those of Armengar, and as the dog seemed to accept Baru as his master, no one objected.

 

Martin whispered, “Wait.”

 

Long moments dragged by, then the soft footfalls coming out of the darkness could be heard. A squad of goblins hurried by, moving with no light and little noise, as they shadowed the route of the patrol. Martin waited until they vanished down the ravine, then signalled.

 

At once Baru and Blutark were up, running across the draw. The Hadati jumped to the upper edge of the shallow wash and reached down as Blutark leaped. With a helping hand from the hillman the huge Beasthound cleared the rim of the small depression. Laurie and Roald sprang for the edge, followed a moment later by Martin. Then Baru was leading them along a naked ridge. For terrible long moments they ran in a crouch, exposed to the view of anyone who might look their way, until they could jump down into a small crevice.

 

Baru looked one way and the other as his companions landed beside him. With a curt nod he led them away, toward the west and Stone Mountain.

 

 

 

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