Chapter Twenty-Three
Corec reached the top of the ladder and stepped out onto the wooden platform the builders had constructed above the partly collapsed lookout tower. The structure seemed sturdy enough to hold him.
Facing in the direction of Sarette's warden bond to the southwest, he summoned a mage light and held it in place for a moment before dismissing it, then called two more in close succession, allowing them each to flicker out after a brief flash. Then one final light, lasting as long as the first. He waited half a minute, then repeated the same pattern.
Sarette had just started teaching him stormborn message signals, and the only signal he'd memorized so far that seemed to fit the situation was
return
.
He had no way to know if she or her troopers had seen the message. She'd taken the new soldiers out for an overnight patrol, but Corec hadn't thought to ask her to watch for signal code. Neither of them had anticipated needing it so soon.
He planned to send Sargo out at first light to search for the patrol, but it would take the scout a while to reach them. With Leena away, the stormborn signals had seemed like the next best option.
He flashed the code three more times before returning to the tavern. The common room was quieter now, the remaining patrons having finally returned to their homes after he'd spoken with each of them.
The tied-up assailants were laid out in a row--those who still lived, at least. Thirteen of the mercenaries had died, either during the battle or before Treya could heal them of their injuries. That included nearly all of those who'd been inside the tavern. Of the fifteen who'd lived, most had been setting up a secondary ambush in the fortress's courtyard. Razai had managed to slip past them unnoticed, taking the two right outside the tavern door by surprise.
With the healing done, Treya was now attending to each of the sleeping mercenaries in turn, cleaning the demonic compulsion from their minds.
Nedley saw Corec enter the room and shuffled over, staring at his feet. "I should have told you about Bertram. Razai told me he was a red-eye, but I thought if I said anything... I don't know."
It took Corec a moment to consider his response. His head was still fuzzy from the ale. "Do you think I would have recognized your brother if I'd known?" He'd never met Bertram.
"Oh," Nedley said, looking up. "I guess not?"
"Razai warned us that Rusol had more compelled troops, mercenaries and others, and she told us that they're harder to detect than the red-eyes. Knowing your brother was one of them wouldn't have changed anything."
Nedley nodded.
"But Ned?" Corec said.
"Yes?"
"Next time you want to make a point, just tell me, all right? Don't knock me over during a fight. If I hadn't realized who you were, I could have killed you by accident."
Nedley ducked his head down again. "I'm sorry."
Treya had approached while they were speaking. "I'm ready," she said. "Do you want me to wake them up?"
"One at a time," Corec said. At Nedley's sudden, intense look, he added, "Fine, Ned. Bertram first."
Boktar and Ral dragged the man in question over to the wall and propped him up against it in a sitting position. Treya knelt to lay her hand across his forehead, then stepped back.
Bertram opened his eyes and struggled in his bonds, looking like a wild animal trying to get free of a trap. Then he settled down, still breathing heavily.
"What's going on?" he asked, squinting. "Ned? Is that you?"
"Yes, I--"
Corec held up his hand to cut Nedley off. "You've been under a demon's spell," he told Bertram. "Do you know what I mean?"
The man's lip curled into a snarl. "You're Corec Tarwen. I'm supposed to--" He stopped talking, then struggled to free himself again. "Let me go!"
"
What
were you supposed to do? Kill me?"
Bertram froze. "The voice... Nothing! I wasn't supposed to do anything!"
"The voice was King Rusol!" Nedley exclaimed. "He was controlling you with magic!"
"Ned!" Corec snapped, then reconsidered. To Bertram, he said, "He's right. It was Rusol who had you in that demon spell. Do you remember what you and your men did here?"
"Tell him, Bert!" Nedley said.
"I..." Bertram looked away and noticed his compatriots for the first time.
"They're alive," Corec said. "The ones here, anyway. The rest are dead. We didn't have a choice--they tried to kill us. They
did
kill two of my men. The only reason we spared the rest of you is because you weren't in control of your own minds. So talk. Tell me what I want to know and I'll let you go free."
There was a gleam of anger in Bertram's eyes, but he answered the question. "We were supposed to sneak in, find out who your mage friends are, then catch you alone and kill you. But you stayed here, so we had to wait. I don't know what happened after that--I was outside until I heard the fighting."
"Who told you to kill me?" Corec asked.
"The king."
"The new king, right? Rusol?" Best to make sure.
Bertram nodded.
"When did he give you the order?"
Nedley's brother furrowed his brow. "A few weeks ago? Three? It's hard to remember. Before we left Telfort."
"Three weeks from Telfort?" Corec asked. That would require fast horses.
"We came straight through the mountains. It's summer--the weather's good. We didn't sleep much."
There were roads throughout the Black Crow Mountains, but there was no direct east-west route all the way across.
"Are you saying you were on foot?" Corec asked.
Nedley spoke up suddenly. "We ran," he said, his voice haunted. "It wouldn't let us stop. We were so tired! So hungry!" He started sobbing, and Katrin and Treya gathered him up between them.
Bertram stared wide-eyed at his brother. "What's wrong with him?"
"The same thing that happened to you," Corec told him. "Rusol sent him to kill me. We saved him from the spell, just like we did for you."
