Leda

Chapter Forty-Seven: The Gates of Dal Reniac

"I wonder if his Majesty has the stomach for a siege," Cesary observed to no one in particular.

"It's not Castor who'll suffer if there is one." Hal scanned the sky which brooded and darkened, the wind an icy claw. The first snows would fall soon ˗ she could smell it on the air ˗ and then they would really be in trouble. "Your father's provisions will not last, Cesary. Dal Reniac still has its stocks of grain, its warehouses...isn't that true, Leda?"

Leda nodded. "If the merchants' guild release it wisely, they'll hold out for weeks."

"But Castor has an army to feed too," the young man protested.

"Well..." Hal scratched at her chin. "Therein may lie his weakness. But I believe our situation is dire. Unless the first assault is a success, of course."

"You're not an optimist, Hal." Cesary threw her a bitter smile.

"I'm trying, Cesary." She spread her hands wide. "But under the circumstances, realism is all I can offer."

"Salvesté!" Jools yelled out, pointing east across the moor. Hal twisted around in her saddle. The rider was a dark speck on the horizon, the long trail of his cloak flying out behind him. A startled covey of pheasants sprayed from the heather, crying into the empty air as they flapped away.

"He seems in a hurry," Hal murmured.

"Salvesté's always in a hurry," Jools shrugged, but her brow creased with concern.

He almost fell from his horse as he approached, clinging to his reins and saddle with his last reserves of strength.

"And?" Jools asked, impatient. "Are they there yet? Did you tell them to meet us at Dal Reniac?"

"Jools," Salvesté bent over in his saddle, sweat gushing down his face; his breaths harsh, erratic gasps. "It's too late!"

"What do you mean?" Jools stared at him, her horse pawing the ground, sensing her anxiety.

"I mean they arrived at Hannac, saw the damage..." he ran a hand down his face to wipe away the sweat, "moved onto Berasé for the night and then left."

"What?"

"Assuming Lord Roc and Hal both to be dead. They've carried on to Dal Reniac by themselves."

For the first time since they'd left Colvé, Jools' composure crumbled. "Tell me it's not true."

"There were a few people left at Berasé ˗ old women and young children for the most part. They told me what had happened. Kris must have realised that Castor had travelled on to Dal Reniac. And..." he looked at Hal. "There's something else."

"Tell me." She'd heard enough bad news to last a lifetime. What more could there be?

"The women at Berasé said that Meracad Léac was with the army."

She failed to absorb his words, her entire body freezing. "What...what did you say?"

"Mother?" Leda rode up beside Hal. "Did you just say that my Mother was with them?"

"Leda, those old ladies at Berasé, they might just have..." Hal's words foundered.

"They might have what?" Leda rounded on her. "Been seeing things? Phantoms? Ghosts? Hal, if there is any chance my Mother is riding to her death...which is what will happen...we have to reach Dal Reniac. Now!"

"She thought Castor must have taken you prisoner, Leda," Salvesté said.

"We ride now." Leda turned to Hal. "Tell them all they have to run if we've any chance of saving Mother and Kris and their army. Hal, are you listening to me?"