David Farland - The Wyrmling Horde

The reavers are marching in almost the right direction, she realized. In a day they could well be at Rugassa s walls. What would the wyrmlings make of the threat?

Rhianna swooped lower, dropping within a hundred feet of the ground, and winged toward the reavers. The cloud rising from the ground smelled of dust and some strange musky scent.

Each reaver had four legs for walking, and two heavy arms that they used to bear weapons-great long hooks called "knight gigs," or enormous swords that could flatten a horse and rider with a single blow. Most of the reavers were gray-black in color, and thus were common fighters. But here and there among the hive she spotted smaller reavers, reddish in color, carrying bright crystalline staves. These were the scarlet sorceresses.

Other creatures marched near the ends of the line-enormous spidery creatures that carried packs upon their backs, and enormous white worm-like creatures that she recognized as "glue mums."

The reavers are coming for a full-fledged war, Rhianna realized. She had an almost primal fear of reavers. It was the fear of such creatures that had driven her ancestors to develop their rune lore in the first place. It was the fear of them that had caused the Runelords to build their vast fortifications.

It was tales of the depredations of reavers that had kept her awake with nightmares as a child.

So she swooped low above the reavers, and watched as the creatures raised their heads and hissed.

The reavers had no eyes in their heads. But that did not mean that they could not see. They had phillia dripping from their chins and from their bony ridge plates, and with these they sensed her presence, by scent and motion. The hissing noise came as they raised their abdomens and sprayed odors into the air, smells that they used to warn their neighbors.

She flew above the reavers, redoubling her speed, for fifteen miles. That is how long their column was. She estimated their numbers at fifty thousand strong.

How will Vulgnash like this? Rhianna wondered.

She kept flying, looking over her shoulders.

Vulgnash still followed, his blood-colored wings flapping vigorously, but he seemed to slow into a glide above the reaver horde, and finally wheeled about.

It was still midafternoon when he began to recede quickly, racing northeast toward distant Rugassa.

Her hunter had turned back.

For a long hour, as time is measured by the sun, Rhianna continued to wing away from Vulgnash, lest he renew the chase. To her, it felt like six hours or more.

At last she reached the Alcair Mountains, and flew to a huge white pine that had been taken by lightning.

The skies above were the perfect blue of a summer afternoon, and the world at large seemed as it should be. The starlings and wild pigeons that flew up from the pines sang their songs, seemingly unaware of Rhianna s desperate plight.

What will I do? Rhianna wondered.

My love is still in the dungeons of Rugassa, in the hands of the wyrmlings.

Rhianna felt sick with anguish.

There seemed to be only one place to go-to the horse-sisters. But what could they do? Grant more endowments?

Despair had more than she did, and he had the powers of an Earth King besides. She could not slay him. She dared not even try.

She felt overwhelmed by doubt.

She wondered if the Wizard Sisel might help. Daylan had said that he was abroad in the land, traveling to commune with the True Tree.

He s had all day to find it, she thought.

But it was a long hike. A man of the warrior clans was expected to run a hundred miles in a day.

If Sisel left from Cantular at dawn, he ll make it there by sundown.

The notion of going to see him pleased her. She longed to go to Castle Coorm and seek refuge beneath the One True Tree, and throw her problems upon the shoulders of the wizard and his guest from the netherworld.

But what can they do? she wondered.

The Bright Ones had never shown her any kindness as a youth; their laws forbade them to interfere in the affairs of lesser creatures like her-the so-called shadow people.

Appealing to the folk of the netherworld would do her no good, and while the wizard had strong protective magic, he had never gone into battle.

Worse than that, she had no time to seek his aid. The reavers were marching toward Rugassa.

By tomorrow this time they could be there, Rhianna realized. What if they attack? They could kill Fallion.

I have to get him out of there, she thought.

But how do I kill an Earth King? Or failing that, how do I defeat one? What weaknesses does he have?

Rhianna thought back to the day that the Earth King Gaborn Val Orden had died. She had never been chosen by him, had never been put under his protection. But Fallion and Jaz had, and they had often recited the words that they had heard in their own minds during Gaborn s final moments. It was part of the creed of the lords of House Orden: "Learn to love the greedy as well as the generous. Love the poor as much as the rich. Love the evil man as ardently as the good. And inasmuch as is possible in this life, when you are beset upon, return a blessing for every blow."

In that instant, Rhianna felt almost as if Gaborn stood at her side, comforting her. She thought about Kirissa.

Could it be that he really had known that some Inkarran child would someday have to face the Wyrmling Empire?

She felt certain that he had.

Rhianna wondered about the Earth King. What were his weaknesses?

Borenson had said that it was his compassion.

Certainly, Lord Despair will not have that weakness.

And suddenly the answer hit her. Gaborn himself had given her the key.

I can t face an Earth King, she thought. I should not even try. With his power, he ll sense the danger. Which leaves only one alternative: return a blessing with every blow. So long as I present no danger, Despair cannot be forewarned of my attack.

Rhianna wondered, could she really free Fallion without harming a living soul?

Despair would not suspect such a bold move. Indeed, he was probably incapable of thinking of it. "Of course any intruder would kill the guards." That is how he thought.

But Rhianna knew of at least one air vent that was not guarded.

She had great strength. She had the speed. She had the key to the wyrmling dungeon on a thong around her neck.

I have to try, she told herself.

With that she took to the air, heading for a brief stop in Beldinook.

In the fortress at Rugassa, wyrmling guards furtively dragged Despair s captives across the floor of the arena, laying them side by side, face up, arranged from largest to smallest, much as a fisherman might display the salmon that he had caught.

The wyrmling guards were terrified. The Death Lords hovered over the bodies, specters of shadow garbed in black robes of such thin weave that they were almost insubstantial. The Death Lords lightest touch had devastated even the most powerful of the Runelords, leaving them paralyzed and half-dead.

Even now, the Death Lords radiated an icy aura that seemed to penetrate even Despair s thickest cloak, for it was not a cold that chilled the body so much as it chilled the soul.

The touch of a Death Lord was the touch of the grave. Had they wanted to, the Death Lords could have slain their victims with that touch. But Despair had warned them to keep the people alive.

Yet the nearness of the victims, the tastiness of their souls, tempted the wights to feed. They were like dogs upon a hunt, scenting blood while the bloodlust is at its height, unable to forbear when a spear brings down a stag.