Chapter Twenty-Two
G ood thing Cador could swim.
For the moment, he could still wade through the swirling, swiftly rising tide, the shockingly cold water around his thighs. Rivers poured into the valley.
It rained and snowed often on Ergh, but if he believed in the gods, he’d be certain Glaw was furious. First the mainland was ablaze, and now it seemed in danger of sinking beneath a new sea.
Doryty squawked where she was bundled inside his vest. Her beak tapped below his throat, and he murmured encouragement as he would to Massen or the goats at home.
He’d wrapped her in the scraps of cloth from her nest, trying to keep her from drowning or being crushed. He might fail, but at least he’d try.
Jem’s book was damp, but the pages inside had been dry when Cador had squeezed it into the waist of his leather trousers. It rested against his belly under his vest, and he kept his arms wide for balance as he fought the current of floodwater.
Roots and floating debris threatened to trip him as he slogged his way along what he hoped was the path back to the castle. The rain was so thick and sky dark that he couldn’t see past the treetops. He was sure this was the right way, though.
Wasn’t it?
Doryty cried as he stumbled and grasped a low branch. “It’s all right, little one. I’ll keep you safe.”
He should have been preparing for battle, but he’d imagined it wouldn’t take long to fetch Doryty and Jem’s beloved book. He’d been powerless to go back and change his actions when he’d dumped Jem’s books on the side of the road, but he would return Morvoren to Jem now, damn it.
Unless he, Doryty, and Morvoren were swept away and drowned, a possibility becoming more likely by the minute. “Nonsense!” he shouted. “You are a mighty hunter of Ergh.” Who was talking to himself.
He plowed on through the murky forest, the water rising impossibly fast. The roar of rain drowned out his own harsh breathing, and he considered climbing a tree to wait out the worst of it.
Then a uniformed body swept by in the current. He didn’t recognize the uniform, so this had to be a Western soldier.
Doubling his efforts, Cador strode in wide steps, his boots sinking into mud. He was still in the lowest part of the valley, and it seemed rivers came from all sides. He had to get to higher ground.
Why was the water so cold? The mainland had been on fire, and after the stinking heat this rain made him shiver down to his bones.
He could hear distant shouts above the drum of rainfall. A crack of lightning lit the sky, surely hitting the castle since it stood so tall. Was Jem frightened? Cador had to get to him. The trick would be not drowning on the way.
The floodwater’s current yanked at him as he fought for elevation. He wasn’t sure even faithful Massen would get far against the growing force. He thought he heard horses, but perhaps it was wishful thinking. Cador panted, downed branches clawing at him as they swept by.
As the water rose to his hips, genuine fear took root. Someone was screaming, and Cador watched in amazement as a man caught in the flood slammed into a tree trunk and disappeared. There were shouts and cries all around now, and he had to get the fuck out of here or he’d be next.
The horse appeared so suddenly from the curtain of rain and leaves that Cador shouted in surprise, shielding Doryty with his hand as she trembled against his skin. Somehow, it was Jem holding down his hand to Cador, the horse whinnying and fighting the current.
A sob choked Cador to see his brave, beautiful little prince atop the stallion. He’d surely pull Jem right off if he took his hand and tried to swing up, but he loved Jem so much for trying.
He wordlessly eased Doryty from his vest and handed her to Jem before reaching around to grab the horse’s mane and mount.
The horse—Lusow, Cador was almost sure—withstood it valiantly, accepting his weight with only a snort.
Cador settled behind Jem, one arm locking around his waist, relieved to feel his body close.
He kissed Jem’s wet curls, praying Jem would not object. Jem gripped Cador’s arm, but he didn’t shove it away. Instead, he gave a squeeze that had Cador’s heart soaring.
“Jem—”
“I know. We must get to safety!”
Cador wanted to demand—beg—for an answer of what exactly it was Jem knew, but it would have to wait.
With Doryty now tucked in his shirt, Jem took the reins and guided Lusow through what seemed a labyrinth of trees. Lusow struggled against the flood but had the strength to carry them toward the castle, the land sloping upward.
It was when they broke through the trees that they could see the disaster of King Perran’s army on a distant hill across the valley.
“Gods!” Jem exclaimed. “They must have been on the road we took here.”
And it seemed the flooding had carried soldiers and horses down the hill and crashing into trees, people and beasts littered across the valley. Many riderless horses galloped aimlessly. There were likely many bodies under the water now, the rain and flood relentless.
Shielding his eyes from the rain with his hand, Cador peered up to the castle. He could see the queen’s people in their bright red uniforms though they looked like insects. The castle appeared well protected, especially with Perran’s soldiers felled by the flooding.
“Your local village is above the valley?” Cador asked.
“Yes, thank the gods. Or whoever decided to build the village on higher ground. Though I’m sure the flooding has still ravaged their homes. I’ve never seen anything like this. I’ve read ancient tales of the lake in this valley rising to great heights, but I thought that was merely a story.”
“Let’s get back to the castle before it becomes even more real.” He leaned around Jem, peeking down at Doryty. “Is she well?”
“I think so.” Jem opened the collar of his shirt to pet her trembling head with his fingertip as Cador tried to block the rain. “Thank you for saving her. And my book. I assume that’s what’s jammed into my back at the moment.”
Cador had to laugh, the feeling unexpected and very welcome. It was all right. Jem had rescued them. Ebrenn’s advance seemed a failure. And though poor Hedrok was gone, Cador was allowed to laugh. He was allowed to joke.
“It feels so good to have you close that you might feel something else as well.” He rolled his hips.
“You’re incorrigible!” Jem laughed too, his smile flashing bright amid the gray. That smile! How Cador had missed it. “You’re…”
Heart racing, Cador leaned closer, rain pelting his head. He lifted his other arm, trying to shield Jem as best he could. “Yes?” He held his breath. Rain clung to Jem’s thick eyelashes, and he blinked up at Cador.
“Cowards!”
They jerked toward the distant voice. Reluctantly, Cador spurred Lusow. “The water’s still rising.”
“Yes.” Jem faced front, Doryty cradled to his chest. “It sounds like someone needs help.”
As they found the slope leading up to higher ground around the castle’s base, the voice grew louder.
It sounded like an old man ranting and raving, the words lost in the rain’s drone.
Out of the flowing water now, Lusow still struggled on the muddy trail, and they dismounted, practically crawling at times, Lusow faring far better without them on his back.
Atop a ridge, the castle looming high above in the unnaturally dark sky, they came face to face with the man still shouting. He was indeed old and covered in mud, bloody scratches and wounds on his pale face and hands. His filthy cloak over fine mainland clothing must have cost a fortune.
And surely did, since King Perran of Ebrenn would insist on the best.
His crown was missing, and considering how large he’d loomed in Cador’s mind—how much power he wielded over Ergh’s future—it was bizarre to see Perran so diminished. At least some of his soldiers had been lost in the flooding but where were the rest? Who was this pathetic king shouting at?
The rain was finally easing, though the floodwaters showed no mercy. Perran caught sight of Cador and Jem, Lusow snorting restlessly. Cador let go of the reins, letting Lusow continue up the trail. He was a clever horse and would surely find the stable or other shelter himself.
“King Perran?” Jem asked uncertainly.
“Cowards!” the old man screamed. “I said attack!” His boots were so deep in mud it could have been quicksand. He didn’t seem to recognize Jem and Cador.
“King Perran, there will be no fight today.” Jem gave Cador an uncertain glance before clearing his throat and speaking more confidently. “Come with us to the castle and we can discuss our differences peacefully. Please.”
Perran practically growled. “ You .”
Cador itched for his spear or sword, but he would snap Perran’s neck with his bare hands if the bastard threatened Jem.
“I said attack!” Perran shouted to no one.
“Father!” Treeve appeared on the far side of the ridge, soaked and muddy as well.
He had no weapon Cador could spot and dragged his left foot as he stumbled toward them.
“The gods have made it clear what they think of your warmongering. I’ve gathered the rest of our people in a safe place atop the other side of the valley.
They refuse to follow you to their doom.
This is madness. Let us go with Prince Jowan and find the queen. We must—”
“If that bitch thinks I’ll give her an inch of land in the Valley of the Gods, I’ll—”
“Forget about the valley!” Treeve shouted. “You’ll ruin everything for the sake of your stubborn, ridiculous pride!”
Perran stared at his son in apparent shock. “You dare address me—”
“Yes, Father. I dare.” He swept his arm toward the flooded valley.
“You’ve already cost too many lives for the sake of your vendetta with the queen.
You’ve whipped up our people’s suspicions and prejudices to start a war not only with Neuvella, but Ergh.
But soon, I will be king. And I’m not going to war. ”