Chapter 4 #4
“I wasn’t aware that they planned to do so,” Vorik said, “but it’s possible one of the chiefs ordered it as… Well, I wouldn’t say it’s part of their negotiating strategy, but they may want to signal that they’re not cowed by your forces surrounding their ship.”
“How would they be cowed when your dragons are surrounding our island?” Syla shook her head, finding it hard to believe either of those chiefs had thought loosing fireworks in an enemy harbor was a good idea.
Shouts came from men on the courtyard walls, several pointing toward the edge of the bluff. From their elevated positions, they would have a good view and a better idea of what was going on.
More fireworks streaked across the sky, this time from a more distant origination point.
“Those had to have been lit from beyond the barrier and out to sea.” Syla looked at Vorik again.
“We do have more ships out there. There were concerns about letting our leaders enter when our dragons can’t fly in to help if there’s a problem.”
Another boom, which seemed closer and stronger, coursed through the bluff.
“What are your people up to, Vorik?” Syla peered into his eyes, certain he knew something. He was a high-ranking military officer, not a first-year soldier who wasn’t told anything.
“I’m not certain, but…”
“They’re plotting something,” she said with certainty.
“Likely so.”
“There were no fireworks to accompany that last boom.” Fel was watching the sky.
Syla backed from the window. “It’s a distraction.” She pointed at Vorik. “And so are you.”
Everything had been, she decided, realization thunking into place like a key turning in a lock. That farce of a negotiations party… The stormers had never intended to negotiate.
Vorik gazed back at her without playing ignorant or denying it. Maybe he didn’t know exactly what his people were up to, but he wasn’t surprised by her statement.
“That did cross my mind,” he admitted. “I almost shared the thought with you, but… my loyalty is to my people. You are… complicated.”
“You’re complicated too.”
“No, I’m simple. Feed me berry cobblers, and I’ll faithfully entertain you in bed.”
“But not shift your loyalties.”
“That’s more difficult.”
“It takes more cobblers.”
“Many more, yes. I’m afraid more than you have.” Vorik shook his head sadly.
Another boom sounded, a faint tremble going through the floor. The floor or the entire bluff?
“Private,” Syla called to the lone Royal Protector in the room. “Find Colonel Mosworth or General Dolok. Tell them to get men into the tunnels under the castle.” Eyeing Vorik, she added, “I think there are stormers down there.”
“Yes, Your Highness.” The man jogged out.
A buzz came from the summoner on Syla’s earlobe, and she cursed. “There are definitely stormers down there. And they’re after the shielder.”
Both shielders were down there, the working one they’d brought from Harvest Island and the original, broken but awaiting repair. Damn it, if the stormers got back into the chamber and destroyed everything, that would leave two islands undefended.
“You ordered the tunnels sealed,” Fel reminded her.
“I know, but they found a way in. They’re down there with explosives using their fireworks to try to cover up the noise.” Syla gave Vorik an exasperated look, then started for the exit.
Since the summoner had buzzed, that meant the door was already being disturbed, maybe opened with stormers scant feet from the shielders. The castle troops wouldn’t know where to look. She had to go down there herself.
Fel lifted a hand to stop her.
She darted to go around him. “Come with me, Sergeant. We’ll go together. I need to—”
Vorik glided close and caught her by the arm. “Don’t go down there.”
In an instant, her exasperation turned to anger. “You want me to let your people destroy another shielder? I can’t do that, Vorik.”
“Let go of her.” Fel jerked his mace free and moved around Syla to give himself space to swing at Vorik.
“It is for your safety that I tell you not to go, Syla.” Vorik raised a hand to defend against Fel if he needed but didn’t yet draw a weapon.
“If my people are down there and that’s their intent, they’ll need you to get into that chamber.
If you walk down there, you’ll give yourself to them.
Let your troops handle this, and stay safe in your castle. ”
Though his mace was poised to swing, Fel didn’t strike. Maybe he agreed with Vorik’s argument.
But the summoner told Syla that the chamber had already been disturbed. Maybe the stormers had found someone else with a moon-mark to drag down there to open the door. She looked around, realizing it had been some time since she’d seen her cousin Relvin.
“They’re already in,” she said grimly.
Outside, fireworks continued to boom and blaze in the sky. Syla nodded to Fel that she wanted to join the troops in the tunnels. They had to. They had to stop the stormers before they destroyed another shielder.
When she stepped away from Vorik, he tightened his grip.
“Let me go!” Syla roared at him and almost ordered Fel to take his swing. But she’d witnessed Vorik disarming her bodyguard and driving him to his knees not once but twice. Fel wasn’t a match for Vorik, and she didn’t want him to be hurt. Or worse.
Vorik hesitated, his eyes grave. Maybe he genuinely wanted to protect her—if he didn’t, he would let her go—but he ultimately released her and stepped back.
She raced for the door, aware of how far into the tunnels she had to run and how close the shielder was to the hidden chamber door. She might already be too late.
As Syla ran into the castle hallways, she glanced up frequently, as if she might see or sense the shield dropping and dragons once more coming to invade. She half-expected to spot Vorik following them, but he was either still in the throne room or he’d gone to reunite with his people.
The loyal Sergeant Fel chased after her, following Syla through the halls to the theater, the closest access point to the tunnels, the one they’d used two weeks earlier when they’d been too late to stop the sabotage.
She couldn’t be too late this time. Her people were depending on her.