Meanwhile, workers resumed the repairs to the docks and the unloading of supplies on shore continued without a break. Any fires outside the walls had been put out. In the past few hours only the Solamnic fortress and the Legion headquarters had been stripped and demolished.
The Brutes had made no move on the city wall yet. The man with the blue skin and golden mask had made one appearance-on a horse this time-to the people guarding the Legion Gate. He offered them once again a chance to surrender, and once again Falaius said no. The leader of the Brutes saluted the Legionnaire and promptly ordered archers to guard the gate. Their whole attitude seemed say, “Just wait. We will come when we are ready.”
Thunder seemed to be content to let them do what they wished. After destroying the Solamnic Citadel he had settled on the ruins to talk to the leader of the Brutes. Moments later he lifted his great blue bulk into the air and disappeared to the west. He had not been seen or felt since.
Linsha acknowledged Falaius’ comment even though she was not sure what he had seen to prompt it, then she pulled off the hot, heavy chain mail and sagged back against the wall. The next attack would come soon enough. She sat patiently, silently suspended between sky and stone, breathing the thick hot air laden with dust and smoke. The heavy afternoon sun soaked into her battered body and dragged her consciousness under. She had fought it for a while, wanting to stay awake in case Falaius needed her. Now, she felt her strength ebb beyond her reach. Her head grew heavy; her eyelids slid closed and locked in place. The world faded away.
In its place a dream took shape that filled her mind like a room fills with smoke. She saw herself standing on a ledge on the side of a great mountain-a mountain she knew all too well. The ledge was empty, and the cave that opened at the ledge’s head remained silent and abandoned. She looked up and saw the mountain’s peak looming against a brilliant blue sky, then smoke belched from its fiery summit. A black cloud of ash and smoke billowed down the mountain’s side toward her. She wanted to run, but she could not move fast enough, and in the blink of an eye she was enveloped by the hot, stinking fumes. Coughing and choking, she reached out to the cave entrance. But he did not come. Another form came instead-a smaller, upright shape that walked slowly out of the darkness and materialized before her startled eyes. Even after all that had passed between them, she felt her traitorous heart lurch at the vision of his roguish good looks and his cool blue eyes. Ian Durne. She thought she had loved him, until he killed her friend and turned his blade against Hogan Bight.
Linsha, you are as beautiful as ever. And just as blind. Do not trust him.
“You are a fine one to be telling me about trust.”
Ah, but I always trusted you to do what was right. I knew you better, you see. I knew when the time came you would follow your honor.
“Yet you loved me.”
He gave her that grin she remembered so well. Honor can be a powerful aphrodisiac to those of us who have none.
As can the allure of the dark rogue, she thought. “What are you doing here, Ian? Who is this I should not trust?”
Look carefully, Green Eyes. There are other rogues in this world besides Dark Knights. He turned back into the smoke and vanished.
“Ian!” she cried into the emptiness, but he was gone, and the loneliness he left behind swept over her with startling intensity.
“Linsha,” a different voice said. A hand fell on her shoulder. Tired as she was, she came instantly awake and her reactions responded with the speed of a striking adder. Her left hand clamped on the offending wrist, and her right hand snatched the dagger from her belt. She opened her eyes and looked into the imperturbable brown gaze of the old plainsman. She blinked in surprise; she had expected blue.
His deep-sunk eyes gazed at her steadily, unshaken by the dagger inches from his chest. “Remind me just to kick you the next time you are dreaming,” he remarked.
She collapsed back to the wall and let her dagger drop. Her heart galloped madly under her breastbone; her breath came in long drawn gulps. “Gods, that was a dream.” She groaned. “It was too real.”
Falaius studied her curiously. The tribes of the Plains of Dust believe in the power of dreams and in the realities revealed in their interpretations. “Who is Ian?” he asked, his voice calm and deliberately soothing.
“He was an assassin sent by the Dark Knights to infiltrate Lord Hogan Bight’s inner circle and kill him.” She said it as if listing Ian’s sins would help her put things back in the right perspective.
“He is dead then. His spirit came to you?”
She hesitated, then said, “It was just a dream. His spirit is gone… wherever Dark Knights go when they die.”
The older man pursed his lips. “Not necessarily. Our mystics have found that many spirits have not left this world yet. Something appears to be blocking their departure. Perhaps this Ian found a way to come to you. Would he care enough to do that?”
Linsha stared at him. Was he serious? Spirits of the dead still haunting the world? Why? Did that mean her grandmother was still out there somewhere? Was her friend Shanron? That could not be true.
“It was only a dream,” she said softly, insistently.
“Are you sure?”
Could it be possible that Ian still cared enough to find her and warn her about someone? But if he had truly come to her, why hadn’t he given her a name? Why did he have to be so mysterious? The mere thought made her head swim. No, this was not some spiritual visitation. This was just a dream wrought by her exhaustion and fear. Who else would her imagination pull out of her collection of memories to haunt her at a time like this?
Several messengers arrived just then with urgent news for the commander. He winked once at Linsha and hurried down the stone steps to speak to them.
Feeling irritable, she climbed to her feet and decided to find something to eat. The Brutes beyond the wall did not seen to be in a hurry to kill them, so perhaps she would have time for a quick meal.
“Lady Linsha,” Falaius called her over. “I’ve received word from Lanther. He is at the North Gate. He is looking for you. He wants you to come if you can.”
“Did he say why?”
At the commander’s nod, the messenger answered. “He captured two men from Thunder’s forces. They told him some things he thought you should hear.”
Her eyebrows rose. “He just went out and captured two men in the middle of an attack?”
The messenger shrugged. “You know Lanther.”
“That section of the wall and the gate are still holding fast,” Falaius said, “but we have received word that portions of the Northern District and the Artisans District have been overrun. The militia is falling back out of the ruins to more defensible positions. Be careful where you go.” He walked with her a short way beside the city wall before he said farewell. “You fought well at my back, Rose Knight.”
“It was an honor to join you,” she replied.
He twisted a grimace into some semblance of a grin and said, “We may not be here tomorrow, so I want to take the opportunity to invite you to join the Legion of Steel.”