The Battle of Coine

How could I have let him escape?

After Liesë changed her bandages, Satine was left alone with her thoughts. The walls in her cell seemed as if closing in on her. Her head was spinning like crazy. She wished she could fall asleep somehow, but her uneasy mind stubbornly kept her awake.

How could I have let him escape? And why did he take me to my sisters?

She could not wrap her head around him sparing her life when she was helpless. It made no sense to return her to the Sisterhood if he really was one of Einhart’s men. But if he wasn’t, then what did he actually want in Rainhoven? There was nothing of interest for a wizard here.

That mysterious quest of his… What could he have come here for?

Even if he had no ties to Einhart, who could say what would happen should they meet? Without knowing what his real goal was, it was impossible to tell if it aligned with Einhart’s even remotely. All she knew was that Einhart wanted to topple king Kassamir. Katnir appeared to be a free soul, not the type to join causes. Nonetheless…

Someone knocked on the door.

“Come in!”

It was Liesë. She brought a bowl of hot soup. Her face had a concerned expression. Having locked the door behind her, she spoke:

“We haven’t had a chance to talk, but there’s something you should know.”

***

It was foolish of me to endanger the boy – Kragavald thought.

He was alone in his chamber, the books retrieved from Renfrid’s room stacked on the table. His disappearance had put the entire castle on high alert. It was clear that the mysterious agent was behind it. What puzzled the old inquisitor the most was why it was the boy who was attacked, and not him. After all, he held much more knowledge about Einhart than him and would therefore be a more valuable target.

One possible reason was the retaliation for Einhart’s capture. But if the agent had been present in the castle at least since the bridge sabotage, they would have plentiful opportunities to dispose of Renfrid while he was recuperating from his injuries. Delay didn’t suit Einhart’s modus operandi. His way was the way of swiftness and ruthlessness.

Another possibility was that the boy found out something that Kragavald knew not and that made him a target for a prompt elimination. As far as Kragavald knew, however, the boy made no further progress in investigation beyond reading his notes. The probing of the castle’s personnel and collecting evidence was Kragavald’s job. He had lent him the books so he could catch up with the lore he was lacking. If the lore was the reason for assassination, it was all the more obvious that its keeper should have been eliminated first.

What Kragavald also considered was that the mere fact of him having a helper could have been enough to mark the boy for death. In such an instance, the agent would have been aware of their investigation and decided that denying Kragavald such an asset would be a beneficial move, or at least more so than killing him outright. That meant that the enemy considered him an asset, at least to some extent.

The third possibility worried him the most, as it meant that his operations would not have been as clandestine as he had hoped. Not only that, but he might have been unwittingly playing into their hands.

It seems even in clear waters a fish can swim through unnoticed. Old have I become, and blind. A helper I need, yes, a young and sharp mind to mold into my progeny before I go completely senile.

He blew out the candle and went to sleep. He had lost his knight, but the king was alive to fight another day. His hunt was still on, and his prey was far larger than a mere sorcerer on the loose.

***

“What if they’re both looking for the same thing?” – Liesë suggested.

“And you believe that thing could be the tomb of Halandir?”

“That is the best possibility I am aware of.”

“And that tomb is located close to the fork of Moza and Myrna rivers.”

“Correct.”

“Which is roughly where me and Katnir were washed ashore.”

“Correct. Wait, how do you know his name?”

“He told me.”

“He told you?”

“Yes, that’s what I’m saying.”

“Did you interrogate him while you held him captive?”

“Yes. I mean… not exactly. We simply… talked.”

“That’s something Sonia would do. Hell, she’d probably talk him to death if she had five minutes with him. I wasn’t expecting you of all people to get along with a sorcerer.”

“Who said we got along?”

“That’s what it sounds like to me. Besides, we saw the battlefield, and, with all due respect, I do not believe you slew that many wealdlings on your lonesome.”

Satine sighed, upset. That was an uncomfortable memory, and she wasn’t sure if she felt worse about letting the sorcerer run about with his weapon, or the way she took it away from him. She fulfilled her duty as a battlesister, but for some reason it did not sit right with her.

“He did fight beside me, alright? But I only let him for the sake of our survival, and took his sword afterwards.”

“Are you quite sure you were in your right mind when you gave him the weapon?”

“I did not give it to him! He took it while I was asleep.”

Liesë’s jaw dropped. Satine felt embarrassed for revealing her blunder.

“You know what… I think I’m done with questions for today. You should get some rest.”

She picked the empty bowl and was about to open the door, when she added:

“And if I were him, and I were working for Einhart, you would have long been dead, Satine. He’s not with them.”

***

Sonia prided herself on having the quickest reflexes among the battlesisters, but even before she touched her dagger, the sorcerer’s sword was already out. He jumped through the window which was still smoldering from the blast.

Good grief, didn’t expect him to be so hot to trot!

She looked through the window, arrow on the string. What she saw was an utter chaos.

Some of the houses were already ablaze, the villagers running amok. Three hooded figures stood on the high ground, casting fireballs left and right. One of the projectiles was flying right at her, but she was too petrified to duck.

At the last second a sword whizzed through the air and cut the fireball in half. The two halves fell harmlessly to the ground with a hiss.

“Think fast, battlesister!” – the sorcerer cried out.

She realized that the crest of the Sisterhood had fallen out of her pocket and was clearly visible to him, yet he still chose to safe her. Whatever doubts Sonia may have had regarding his allegiance, were now gone.

The sorcerer rushed forward, onto the village square. Sonia followed. She saw him reach out with his hand, intercept a fireball mid-flight with telekinesis and send it up into the sky. It exploded high above the village like a fireworks display.

“Let’s delay them until the village is evacuated!” – he shouted.

She understood immediately. Direct assault on Einhart’s men would be risky, but they could still thwart their attempts at destroying the village while they expend their power.

The guerillas lobbed another fireball at the village. Sonia drew her bow and let loose. The arrow hit the fireball and detonated it while it was still at a safe distance. She felt strange to fight side by side with a spellcaster, but it was relieving to think that not all of them are evil.

Together they disabled several missiles, helping stop the spreading fire. Seeing this, the guerillas redirected their attention at them and started bombarding them with fire, but even their combined strength was not enough to prevail over the two heroes. As Sonia and Katnir were warding off the fireballs, the guards evacuated the village and soon there was no one left but the two of them.

Finally, the sorcerers stopped their barrage and two of them descended from the hill to engage in close combat. The third one stood proudly on the top, a strap of bandage visible from beneath the dark cloak.

That must be Einhart himself – Sonia thought. – I wish I could just take him down from here, but he’d definitely deflect the arrow.

The two figures walked through the flames and entered the village square. They dropped their cloaks and Sonia could take a closer look. One of them was a woman of eastern looks, with swarthy skin and narrow eyes. Her hands started glowing orange from the glimmering flames. The other was a pale-eyed, skinny man with long black hair. To Sonia’s horror his shadow started moving on its own and split into multiple formless shades. Each shade grew into a shadowy form of the man.

“Take the fiery witch, I’ll take the other one!” – Sonia shouted to the sorcerer. He nodded in response. After a brief pause, the fiery witch broke the standoff and dashed forward, reaching out with her blazing hand.