Beyond The Vale Page 20

  “If I had to guess, I’d say he was afraid of something,” said Drake. “But of what?”

  It was possible the Bomar were aware of what had happened in Malizar. They had not traveled near the train route, so as not to exit the desert close to the first Bomar town. The corpse was in common clothing, so he wasn’t a soldier. With no obvious injuries, he apparently had died from exposure and dehydration.

  It was possible, of course, it had nothing to do with the events in Malizar. There were any number of reasons for someone to flee. But Drake’s instincts were telling him it was connected.

  It wasn’t until the landscape began to change that Drake felt his anxiety lessen. In the far distance, distortion of the heat on the horizon cleared, revealing a thin line of trees that served as a marker for the desert’s edge. It was as welcoming a sight as Drake could remember. And even with their greater endurance and resistance to the ravages of the sun, the Nelwyns’ spirits were lifted as well. They had a long way to go still. But in the forests, they could hunt and gather fruits and nuts. Drake was certain he had lost considerable weight, and his face was now covered with a thick beard.

  Their feet touched grass just before dusk and Drake drew in a long cleansing breath, the scent of pine and earth feeling as if it were rinsing the dust from his lungs. They continued until

  the forest thickened before finding a suitable place to bed down. The pine needles seemed softer than any mattress he had slept on before. He could not wait until they ran across a stream or with luck a pond, the anticipation of cold water on his skin urging a smile to form.

  After a fire was built, Hylariel ventured away from the group and returned after an hour with an armful of small green oblong fruits. The skin was tough and difficult to peel, but the orange pulp was juicy and tart. Normally it would not have been to Drake’s liking, but at that moment each bite was followed by a satisfied moan.

  The children were equally delighted and were soon begging their parents to tell stories and sing songs. Since leaving Malizar, they had barely spoken two words that he could hear, rather whispering into their mothers’ ears from time to time. It was oddly uplifting to hear their laughter. And also curious. They had been through a hellish nightmare, one that would have crushed the souls of most people, leaving them a broken shell. But there they were, smiling happily as they snuggled together and listened as Tyrani sang. The words were in the Nelwyn language, but the tune was lighthearted and cheerful, and Drake found himself drifting off by the second verse.

  The crack of a twig shocked him awake. Instinctively, Drake reached for his sword. The Nelwyn were already on their feet, clustering together, arms spread and facing outward, the children at their backs.

  Steel sang as Drake scrambled up. “What is it?” “Bomar,” said Hylariel.

  “Where?”

  “All around us.”

  His eyes strained to penetrate the night. The rustling of boots on leaves reached him from off to his left, followed by the clicking of a rifle chambering a round straight ahead.

  “If you try to run, we’ll fire,” called a voice. “I have twenty weapons trained and ready.” Drake could see no way out. He might be able to survive, but the Nelwyn would be cut

  down.

  “Surrender and you won’t be harmed,” the voice added, when neither Drake nor the Nelwyn moved.

  According to Hylariel, the Bomar should not be so far away from their town. Clearly something had changed, and that did not bode well. He dropped his sword and clasped his hands behind his head. Glancing over, he could see the fear in the Nelwyn’s eyes; the children quivering as tears spilled down their cheeks.

  All at once, soldiers stepped from the darkness from all sides, rifles pointed, though mostly at Drake. He noticed their uniforms were stained and ripped, some almost to the point they could barely be considered clothing. These people had been in a fight. A bad one.

  “Bind the adults,” ordered a tall, dark-haired woman with four red chevrons on her sleeve. One by one, the Nelwyns’ hands were tied in front of them. The Bomar were looking at

  Drake with undisguised contempt and bound his hands behind his back. They probably think I’m a traitor, he considered. A Bomar in league with their enemy. This could definitely complicate matters. He would need to decide whether to reveal who he really was or wait to see how things unfolded. Before he did anything, he’d need to know more. Assuming the poor condition of the soldiers was a result of fighting the Nelwyn was premature. If they had discovered the fate of Malizar, there was no telling how they had reacted. For all he knew they could have started fighting one another. After all something had drive the Bomar into the desert.

  They were ordered to form a single file line, Drake to the rear, and then led west until reaching a narrow trail that snaked its way north. The Bomar faces matched their uniforms –

  despondent and defeated. The woman who had ordered them bound seemed to be their commander and walked behind Drake, her rifle slung and a pistol aimed at his back.

  “What is your name?” she asked. “Drake.”

  “Did you come from Malizar…Drake?”

  He hesitated for a long moment before nodding.

  “Then you know.” Her voice was filled with barely contained rage. “And still you travel with them?”

  “The Nelwyn didn’t do it,” said Drake. “There’s no reason to take out your revenge on

  them.”

  He felt the barrel of a gun press hard against his skull. “I should blow your brains out right

  now.”

  She probably should. If she knew what he had done, she probably would. “Why didn’t you kill us?”

  “Orders. And when we get there, you’d better talk. General Gorlan isn’t as pleasant as I

  am.”

  General Gorlan? A shiver ran through him. Gymal’s father. Hanna’s brother. This situation just became much worse. If he knew Malizar was destroyed, then he knew his son and sister were dead. And Drake was the one responsible. The bindings were tight, but he could probably get free. Of course that would mean abandoning the Nelwyn, and he had no intention of leaving them behind, not after everything they’d been through. He’d need to find a way to get them all out. Unfortunately, he had nothing to bargain with.

  They walked for several miles, the Bomar leader making a point of jabbing her weapon hard into his back if he slowed even slightly. From what he could tell, they were heading closer to the town. He knew that they could not reach it by dawn, so either that was not their destination or this would be one hell of a long walk. And from the ragged and weary look of the Bomar, it would not be an easy trek. This could possibly afford an opportunity for escape, providing the Bomar were careless. They would have no way to know that Drake was resistant to bullets. So if he could recover his blade, he could cause enough of a disruption to give the Nelwyn time.

  Thunder rumbled in the far distance. Rain could be an ally – easier to create confusion. But just as the first drops began to fall, the trail abruptly ended, and before them stretched a vast open field, with row after row of tents, among which hundreds of soldiers were moving about. At the perimeter, several cannons had been positioned, their barrels facing outward. In the center a long pavilion towered above the tents, likely the command center. Soldiers were standing guard every few yards, and unlike those he had seen previously, these were at full attention.

  The Bomar leader spoke briefly to one of the guards, then ordered the prisoners to sit. The other soldiers surrounded them while she disappeared into the camp. Drake gave the Nelwyn a reassuring smile and a nod. However, upon seeing the enormity of the Bomar camp, and what had to be at least a thousand soldiers, hope for escape was severely diminished.

  By the time the leader returned, the rain increased to a full-on downpour.

  “Take the Nelwyn to the holding area,” she ordered, then turned her attention to Drake. “The General will speak to you first.”

  The Nelwyn were led to the north end of the cam
p. Drake tried to take note of their exact location but lost sight of them between a row of tents. He was lifted to his feet and shoved roughly in the direction of the pavilion. As they walked, he could see the hate-filled stares cast in his

  direction, and heard the muttered curses: traitor; scum; demon. He was sure that they would tear him apart given the chance. And who could blame them? Everything they knew and loved had been reduced to a pile of rubble in an instant. Someone had to be held accountable.

  Before they reached the pavilion, they turned right, passing several larger tents, presumably housing officers, and stopped in front of one guarded by six soldiers with swords at their belts and rifles over their shoulders.

  The tent flap opened and an older man in an open-necked white shirt and black trousers peered out. His face was careworn, and his short-cropped silver hair and square features gave him a commanding appearance.

  He regarded Drake for a long moment then nodded to his guards. “You can cut him loose.” “But sir,” objected one of the guards, but a stern looked silenced him.

  Drake’s bonds were cut and the guards stepped aside. The woman who had brought him motioned with her pistol for him to enter. The interior was austere, with a single cot, a round table and chairs, and two trunks shoved into the corner. The General was seated, with a bottle and two glasses in front of him.

  “That will be all, Captain,” he said.

  She hesitated, but only for a moment before bowing curtly. “Should I wait outside?”

  “That won’t be necessary. See to your troops. I’m sure they’re in need of food and warm blankets.”

  “Yes, General.” She shot Drake a final look of contempt and exited the tent.

  Drake stood at attention, as he would have for a superior officer when in the royal guard. “Your name is Drake?” asked the General.

  “Yes, sir.”

  He pointed to the chair opposite. “I’m General Gorlan. Have a seat.”

  Drake did as instructed, folding his hands on the table. Gorlan poured two glasses of strong- smelling whiskey and pushed one over.

  The General held the glass under his nose and then downed it in a single gulp. “I suppose you’re wondering why you’re still alive.”

  “The thought had crossed my mind,” said Drake.

  “By all rights, you shouldn’t be. As a traitor to your own people, I should have you shot.

  But as things are, that might not be the best idea. At least not yet.”

  Drake looked down at his glass, then back to the General who had already poured himself another. “I assume I’m here to tell you what I know about what happened in Malizar.” He could see the pain in the man’s eyes. He needed to choose his words carefully.

  “Yes. And why you are with the Nelwyn.” He waited until Drake took a drink to continue. “You have the bearing of a soldier. Am I right?’

  “I was….once.”

  “Did you serve on the frontier?” “No, sir. I did not.”

  He propped his elbow on the arm of the chair and leaned his chin to his knuckles. “I see.

  So you did not fight the Nelwyn?” “No, sir.”

  “Is that why you have betrayed your own people?” “Is traveling with Nelwyn betrayal?”

  Anger flashed in his eyes. “It is, when they have killed thousands of your own people; when we are on the brink of total annihilation. Yes. I would call it betrayal.” He took a long breath,

  though it was clear his fury was begging to surface. “So now you are going to tell me what happened. Or I swear on the spirits of my children, you will die screaming.”

  “The cavern where the new weapon was being developed was unstable. That was what destroyed Malizar. The Nelwyn are innocent.” This was true enough.

  “And how would you know about the cavern? I know everyone who worked there. You were not one of them.”

  “I heard rumors. When some people drink, they can’t control what they say.” “So you expect me to believe you just stumbled on the information?”

  “I guess you could say that. Yes, sir.”

  Gorlan pushed back his chair and stood, leaning forward with his hands pressed to the table. “There is one thing I have learned over the years – it’s to know when someone is holding back. In my position, it’s crucial. When one of my soldiers withholds information, it endangers everyone. You are not one of my soldiers. But I will not allow you to put my people at risk.” He loomed over Drake, his tone hard as tempered steel. “The Nelwyn you were with were being kept at the cavern. They could not have escaped without help. So I’ll ask you one more time: what happened in Malizar?”

  Drake knew lies would not work. Not with this man. His stone gaze reminded him of his father. He could practically smell a lie.

  “If I tell you, what will happen to the Nelwyn?”

  Gorlan’s jaw tightened. “The Nelwyn? Our people are dying, and you’re worried about the Nelwyn?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “The Nelwyn are to be held until I say otherwise. But if you are wondering if I intend to execute them, I do not. You, on the other hand… I have no problem putting a bullet through your brain if you don’t tell me what I want to know.”

  Clearly this was not an empty threat. Drake weighed his options. He could attack the General, and possibly hold him hostage in exchange for their freedom. But Gorlan was not likely to be easy to subdue. He was older than Drake by at least twenty years, but by no means feeble. And the guards outside were sure to be listening for trouble.

  Drake decided the only sensible course was honesty. “I’m not one of you,” he stated flatly. “I’m not Bomar.”

  Gorlan furrowed his brow. “What the hell are you talking about? You’re not a Nelwyn. So what else could you be?”

  “My home is called Vale. It’s a land very far from here. We look like you. But we are not you. The Nelwyn agreed to help us in exchange for destroying your new weapon. That’s why I was sent.”

  For a moment Drake wasn’t sure if Gorlan believed him. Then gradually, his face turned crimson. “And instead you destroyed the entire city?”

  “No. Not exactly. When I learned that your people were building a weapon using vex crystals…that’s what we call them…I knew I had to stop it. When I freed the Nelwyn, they could no longer keep them stable. But what happened to your city would have happened anyway, sooner or later. Your people did not fully understand the power they were dealing with. And there were more caverns you didn’t know about that stretched all the way beneath Malizar. When the first one went, it destabilized the rest.”

  “You moron,” snapped Gorlan. “The crystals weren’t the weapon. We were trying to use them in the power plant to heat the turbines.”

  “If it wasn’t the crystals…then what was it?”

  “There is no weapon. There never was. I was the one who spread the rumor. I was the one who sent my own people out, knowing they’d be captured. Knowing the Nelwyn would learn about it. Knowing it would frighten them into staying close to the mountains.”

  “But you pulled your soldiers out. Why?”

  “Because that’s what they would expect us to do if we had something new…some ultimate weapon. They would think we were trying to draw them out, as we did before when we brought cannons.”

  The pieces were falling into place. It was a bluff. All this had been for nothing. Thousands of people dead. For nothing.

  Gorlan looked on the brink of losing control.

  “The only defense I can offer is to say that we didn’t know this would happen. And that the Nelwyn were not at fault. If anyone is to blame, I am.”

  Drake was certain the General was about to leap across the table. Tears of sorrow and wrath streamed down his cheeks, and his entire body trembled. Then, all at once, it was as if he deflated, and he sank back into his chair. “Do you know what you’ve done? You’ve doomed my people to extinction.”

  Drake was unsure what to say as the General placed his face in his hands. “I truly am sorry.


  I will never forgive myself for what happened.”

  Gorlan looked up, eyes red, but with a modicum of composure. “You don’t deserve forgiveness. But then, after all the things I’ve done, neither do I.”

  “What will you do now?”

  “We will die. We may not have a new weapon, but it seems the Nelwyn do. We cannot match it. What you see here is the last of my force. The rest of our…my people are in the villages.”

  “Is that why you ordered the Nelwyn captured?”

  The General looked as if age had caught him all at once; his powerful frame now bent and withered. “I need something to bargain with, and Nelwyn are fiercely protective of their children.”

  “So they’re hostages?” “Yes.”

  The man was utterly beaten. He had lost his soldiers, his home, and his son. And the one who dealt the blow was sitting right in front of him. That Drake was not dead was a miracle in itself.

  “I can help.”

  Gorlan poured a glass and took a long drink. “How? You’re not Bomar. Unless you’re lying. And I don’t think you are.”

  “This new weapon of the Nelwyn’s… it was my people who gave it to them.”

  Rather than fly into a rage, Gorlan let out a humorless chuckle. “Of course. Why did I not know this already? So what do you propose?”