He had made it through a murderous journey lasting weeks. His Pathfinders had skills unmatched by any on Midkemia, save the elves and the Rangers of Natal. But Fadawah’s defenses were bolstered by something far more terrible than mere human ability: they were aided by dark magic Subai did not understand.
It became noticeable when they passed the first of the true southern defenses. Besides the death and destruction, there had been a feeling of despair everywhere, as if a miasma of pain and hopelessness hung in the air. The farther north they traveled, the worse the feeling became.
They saw little of the coastal defenses for a while, as they moved north while the road to Quester’s View turned northwest. When they reached the road from Quester’s View to Hawk’s Hollow, they encountered more indications of dark powers.
Not only had the northern ridge above that road been fortified, the southern ridge had been decorated with a grisly set of corpses. Wooden Xs had been erected along the ridgeline, with a human prisoner nailed to each. All had expressions of horror on their faces, showing they died from wounds, rather than exposure and crucifixion. Most had their throats cut, but a few had their hearts removed, their chests showing gaping wounds.
And the dead were not just men. Women and children had also been murdered for this hideous display.
Two of his men had died an hour later, as terrible-looking men wearing scars upon their cheeks and seemingly possessed of inhuman strength and determination had chanced upon Subai’s camp. From what intelligence Subai had read on the Emerald Queen’s army, he knew these men were most likely Immortals. Originally the honor guard of the Priest-King of Lanada, they were ordinary soldiers turned into murderous fiends by black rites and a diet of drugs. The Emerald Queen had further degenerated them, using one a night in death rites to continue her eternal youth.
It had been thought they had fallen out of favor with Fadawah, but they seemed very evident on the approaches to Yabon.
For the next week they had been hunted, and two more men had died, leaving it to Subai to order to his two remaining companions to turn east and find their way to Loriel, which was still held by the Kingdom. He hoped they would lead away the pursuing warriors.
Subai had effectively isolated himself in the hope that one man might slip by where two would be noticed.
For a week he had journeyed past patrols and encampments, and each time he saw another enemy band, his confidence in the Kingdom’s chances of regaining Yabon was eroded. The theory that only a core of twenty or twenty-five thousand soldiers remained under Fadawah’s command was in error. Given the numbers he knew to be deployed down near Sarth and estimates of what it would have taken to overrun LaMut, Subai was now convinced Fadawah had at least thirty-five thousand soldiers under his command.
Subai knew that if it were true, and if Kesh continued to probe the southern border, freezing soldiers along the frontier, Greylock did not have enough men to dislodge Fadawah. It might be possible to retake Ylith, but the price would be grim.
Subai had failed to reach Yabon. The city was besieged and there was no way he could get close enough to attempt to sneak in. He had considered trying for Tyr-Sog, but found himself behind the enemy’s lines and realized his best bet was to strike for the Lake of the Sky, and around the northern tip of the Grey Towers and down into the elven forests.
Subai had no illusions. He had been chased for two days, since almost reaching the Lake of the Sky. He didn’t know if the men who were behind him were fanatics of Fadawah’s or renegades, but either way he knew he needed to find a place to rest and something to eat.
He had had no provisions since a week after leaving the vicinity of Yabon City. He had foraged and found nuts and berries, as well as snaring a rabbit, but he hadn’t eaten in the last two days, since being spotted by his pursuers. He was losing weight and energy, and was in no condition to fight more than one or two men. If five or six were after him, to be caught was to die.
He was following the southern bank of the River Crydee, which began at the Lake of the Sky. He knew that soon he would be opposite woods that were claimed by the elves, and that to enter them he would need permission. He also knew that it was his only chance of safety. There was no way he could continue to follow the rift down to the castle at Crydee, or risk moving south through the Green Heart to the Jonril garrison.
Subai stopped and looked back. Cresting some rocks a mile back, he saw dark figures moving. He looked ahead and saw a ford.
It was never going to be a better time, he told himself.
Subai entered the water and found it rose to his knees. At the height of summer the water level was lowest, and he knew that at thaw, or after fall thundershowers, he could not cross here.