Laddel stared. “Rhyn’athel is here?” “Yes. He’s leading the Chi’lan against Areyn Sehduk.”
Silence followed as Laddel met the wolf-god’s gaze. “Who knows?”
“No one, save you and I,” Ni’yah replied. “Not even Rhyn’athel’s own Chi’lan know that he is among them. If Areyn were to learn this, it would take the war to the next stage.” He paused. “I know you’re powerful enough to keep that secret from Areyn, but no one else must know.”
“Rhyn’athel has joined the fight,” Laddel mused. “Even with my silence, Areyn will learn soon enough.”
Ni’yah nodded. “Yes, he will.”
“The Laddel will be dragged into this regardless of our wishes.”
“You can meet Areyn on his terms or on yours.” The god shrugged. “The choice is yours.” With that, the god vanished.
Laddel sighed and shook his head. He leaned against the merlon, catching the last rays of the setting sun and gazing into the dark sky.
“Father, was that the wolf-god?”
Laddel turned his gaze to his son, Ladsil. Ladsil was a much younger version of himself with the same wolf eyes and agouti hair. Laddel consider his son thoughtfully. He had been about Ladsil’s age when the war between the gods began. “Yes, it was,” he said.
“What did he say?”
“The Lochvaur need our help. Prepare the army—we’ll be marching from Caer Ladren within the week.”
25
Lachlei looked down into the valley where the Silren army waited. Ten thousand warriors stood ready to fight her and her Chi’lan. Overhead, the sky was dark with approaching storm clouds and a cold wind blew from the east. They broke camp early and marched to the top of the next ridgeline above the valley where the Silren army sat.
Beside her rode Rhyn, his steel gaze studying the Silren lines, his face grim. She tried to discern what Rhyn was sensing, but she could sense nothing save the massive shield that seemed impervious to her power. “Is the demon there?” she asked tentatively.
Rhyn nodded once and continued to gaze into the valley. “He’s planning on trapping us within the valley and crushing our army with his numbers.”
“That would make sense,” Lachlei said and fell silent, seeing Rhyn lost in thought.
Rhyn gazed at the Silren army. Without the full Lochvaur army, the Lochvaur had no chance against an army five times their size. A ride into that valley would be suicide.
“Is there any way for us to lure him from the valley?”
“Lure?” Rhyn glanced at her and then back to the valley. A slow smile crept across his face. “Lure—that’s it...”
Lachlei gazed at him. “Do you have an idea?”
“Of course. It’s simple, but he’s arrogant enough to fall for it.”
Lachlei gazed at Rhyn curiously. “Who’s arrogant? Do you have an idea?”
“Yes,” he said, grinning. “You gave me the idea—I need five hundred of your troops.”
“Five hundred?” she stared. “That isn’t enough against ten thousand.”
“No, it’s not—but it will be enough to draw him out.”
Lachlei’s eyes glinted as realization dawned in them. “Of course,” she said. “We’ll be ready for them.”
“Then we’ll charge at dusk.”
Areyn gazed at the southern ridges. The Lochvaur were there, waiting. Areyn could wait, too. At some point, the Lochvaur would have to ride down through the pass and engage the army. With the Silren’s overwhelming numbers, it would be a slaughter.
The Lochvaur had other possible choices. One would be to retreat. The other would be to try to circle around, but their way would be blocked. No, the Lochvaur would come to him in good time.
Imdyr sat beside him, clad in her black mail. The Lochvaur were there as she had told him. In fact, everything Imdyr had told him had come to pass. Areyn considered the priestess with some puzzlement. She seemed able to get around the barriers he could not. It was as though she had a goddess’s powers. And yet, Areyn Sehduk could sense that she was mortal and nothing more. He reached out with his senses to see how many of the Lochvaur army was marching against them and abruptly was shoved back.
“How many?” Areyn asked.
Imdyr looked sideways at the death god as if he had taunted her. “There are only two thousand,” she said. “They will attack—there!” She pointed to the cleft in the ravine.
Areyn gazed at the ravine. “That takes no sorcery to figure out,” he said. “Unless the Lochvaur are suicidal, there is no other way.”
Imdyr’s gaze narrowed, but said naught for some time. “There is a god among the Lochvaur,” she said at length.
Areyn started. “A god—are you sure?”
Imdyr closed her eyes as her battle horse stomped impatiently. She opened her eyes and met the death god’s gaze. “I am certain of it.”
Areyn paused. “It must be Ni’yah—I’ve seen the cur skulking around. Little matter—he hasn’t the power to defeat me.”
“What of Rhyn’athel?” Imdyr asked.
“Rhyn’athel?” Areyn spoke sharply. Imdyr smiled mockingly at the fear in his voice. “Rhyn’athel wouldn’t dare; his precious Truce means more to him than a minor encroachment. Ni’yah, however, would become involved.”
“The god I sense is powerful,” Imdyr remarked. “I hope that it is the wolf-god as you think.”
Areyn looked at the mountains, trying to sense the god. How Imdyr was able to break through barriers he could not was indeed puzzling. “It is Ni’yah,” he replied. “Only the wolf-god would be so bold.”
The sun was beginning to sink low in the horizon when Rhyn began to select the warriors for the assault. He rode among the Chi’lan, choosing the best riders he could find. When he had picked his five hundred, Rhyn returned to the front lines where Lachlei and Cahal waited.
“I’ve chosen my warriors,” Rhyn said. “I’ll be taking Cahal, if you can spare him.”
“I can’t,” Lachlei said. “He’ll be with the remainder of the army.”
“You’re coming with us?”
“Yes,” Lachlei said with a sly smile. “Any objections?”
“Yes,” Rhyn said. “Who will lead the army?”
“Cahal will.”
“Cahal?” he said. “And if you fall?”
“I’m Rhyn’athel’s champion, am I not?” she asked. “I’m your queen. I should lead the attack.” She crossed her arms. “If Fialan were alive, you’d expect no less from him.”
“We wouldn’t put Fialan under undue risk,” Cahal replied. “They’ll be plenty of fighting here with the rest of the army.”
“I know,” she said. “But I’ll be risking my life regardless of where I am, save perhaps, behind the walls of Caer Lochvaren. I am your champion and your queen. I will lead the charge.” With that, Lachlei rode off.
Rhyn glanced at Cahal, who gave the Chi’lan a helpless shrug. Rhyn followed her.
Lachlei glanced back, irritated. “Rhyn, you don’t need to follow me—I’ve made up my mind.”
“You don’t trust me leading the attack.”
Lachlei met Rhyn’s gaze. His silver eyes betrayed no emotion. “Of course, I do,” she said, a slight hesitation in her voice. “That’s not what’s at issue here.”
“What is at issue?”
Lachlei paused and silence ensued. She turned her horse away, unwilling to have Rhyn see her expression. She knew her face was red from anger and shame. “You wouldn’t understand.”