Page 17 of Sword & Shadow
“Ethenn is the pinnacle of an Ephrian, is he not? Short and stocky with dark features. He’d only appearmoreEastern if he bore a darker complexion.” Auden gestured to Deckard then. “You, on the other hand, are tall and trim with pale skin and red hair.”
“My hair is brown,” Deckard argued.
Auden and Ethenn both gave him a look that said they disagreed.
With a sigh, Deckard brushed off the comment. “I see your point,” he admitted. “So the Mages intend to flood the eastern half of the continent with their people, repopulating it with their bloodline. Is that it? That sort of thing will take generations.”
“Mages are inordinately patient,” Auden said with a wry grin.
“And what about Blount?” Deckard pressed. “If you know the Mages’ ultimate aims, surely, he does too. Doesn’t he fear them stabbing him in the back?”
Auden raised his ginger eyebrows. “Why do you think he wants the Relics?”
Feeling the weight of their mission impressed even more heavily upon him, Deckard confirmed his faith in the Calders. Be the Alliance purehearted or not, ithadto be better than the plans Blount and the Mages had for their continent.
“Do you really think the Alliance can overthrow both countries?” Deckard asked.
Auden gave him a confident smile. “I do.”
“What if we fail in our mission?” he pressed. “If we don’t obtain all the Relics, can they still win?”
“The Alliancewillwin with or without the Relics,” he assured him. “Fail-safe after fail-safe has been put in place. We have members in the highest places, individuals devoted to our cause. Even if we fail, even if Blount obtains the Relics himself, our victory is inevitable, though it will be far more difficult. The question isn’t if we’ll win, but when.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because we aren’t seeking selfish ambition,” Auden insisted. “Our cause is for the people, who will always stand with us.”
Deckard studied the Mage, wondering at his certainty. Was it possible that any organization could bethatunstoppable?
Thinking back to their assignment as the Order of the King—the special soldiers assigned to King Ephren’s personal missions—Deckard began to understand. The Alliance’s reach was far greater than he’d realized. King Ephren’s most trusted advisor was Lord Carlile, a double agent for the Alliance. A man skilled enough in the study of Mages and Warriors that he’d recognized Evylin’s magic upon a single meeting. A man who’d set them up, ensuring their eventual connection with his organization.
The duplicity of the Alliance worried Deckard. Could such an underhanded ploy ever speak well of an organization’sintentions? But what else were they to do? In the overthrowing of kingdoms, was any behavior ever truly honorable?
Deckard didn’t like where his thoughts took him. He didn’t like the idea of being party to something dishonorable. But he didn’t think he could go back either. Not when the alternative was living under the rule of a lackadaisical king who kept his citizens uninformed and his country locked in a never-ending war.
Yet, Deckard worried that Ephria as a whole would not accept the truth he’d learned. The country was staunchly opposed to magic in all its forms. The first King Ephren had seen to that, annihilating all references to magic within the country’s boundaries. The Allorian church named it heretical. Though the Calders claimed that the true faith taught that magic came from Allore himself, even Deckard struggled with such notions from time to time.
How could he expect an entire nation to accept such an antithesis?
But if the Alliance failed to raise Allund again, what would happen to Evylin? As a Warrior, she carried magic. And while Ephren’s Allorianism only declared the magic of Mages to be heresy, the magic of Warriors was long forgotten. Surely, the church wouldn’t accept it any more readily.
Would that mean Evylin would have to go into hiding? Could she live in secret like that? Or would she have to flee, like the Warriors of old, across the sea to Schon?
Deckard would go with her, of course. He would follow her to the ends of Terraeus if she’d let him. He didn’t want to leave his home or family. But he would abandon it all for her.
The only question truly was: Would she let him?
CHAPTER FIVE
Throughout the rest of the day, they walked, the rain drizzling constantly around them. It splattered on the vegetation, spraying little droplets onto their faces that even their hoods couldn’t deter. Despite the wool cloaks, their boots and hems soaked up the dampness, brushing against the thick, wet flora around them.
The Ephrians’ introduction to Wauld was unpleasant, to say the least. As far north as they were, the chill of winter laced the air with a sharp twinge. It didn’t help that the canopy of leaves above them blocked what little sunlight filtered through the rain clouds.
Worn down and damp to the core, the troop finally made camp as the world grew too steeped in gray shadow to continue safely. Though “making camp” was too generous a term. They’d have to sleep on the wet ground without bedrolls or blankets. And with the chance of the Mages still pursuing them, they couldn’t risk a fire either.
The troop found the most shaded clearing they could, backed up to a large outcropping of rocks. It would provide a comfortable, well-hidden place to rest.
“We should keep watch in shifts,” Deckard suggested as they ate their meager rations. “I don’t want to give anyone the chance to sneak up on us.”
