The Liberian

Chapter 69

She felt sick. Her brain eased itself back into place as she struggled to find her breath. Halle tried to tell herself that it was just a dream, that it had only been a dream. But she had felt every minute of it. She had heard Derek’s voice.

Suddenly a memory of a night long ago returned to her. She wondered how she could have forgotten. It had simply vanished from her mind into the chaos that her life had unraveled into.

Echoing through her mind were the Northerner’s words during the Night of Fire and Wind.

“Of course, we also hoped that if the poison failed to kill you, the shame of one of your dear sweet brother’s men stabbing you in the back would be enough.”

It hadn’t made sense. It didn’t make sense, she reminded herself. Her mind had dredged up an explanation for that confusing moment and played it for her. Halle wrapped her arms around herself. The alternative explanation was too impossible. Like the last fractured dream, she wanted to go to him. Every heartbeat made her struggle with the distance between them.

“Halle, what is it?” Arel rubbed sleep from her eyes.

“Nothing,” she panted.

“Are the dreams returning?” The Western woman sat also.

“No.” Halle shook her head. “It was a dream, but not that dream. Just a random nightmare.” She began pulling on her armor, hasty to get the day started and shake off the remnants of the vision.

She was so relieved to see Derek later that she wasn’t even bothered when Ledia rode up and wedged herself between them. The sight of the prince soothed her nerves and fears, reassuring her that her dreams were nothing more than night terrors. They spoke about some Western holiday, and Halle savored the sound of his rare laughter. Much to Ledia’s annoyance, Derek worked to include Halle in the conversation.

“You have never been to the West before, correct?” he asked across Ledia.

“I have not.” She shook her head.

“A shame we cannot make it to Norin,” he said thoughtfully.

“I would like to see it someday.” Derek smiled at Halle’s statement. “What is Norin like?”

“Norin is settled in—“Ledia began arrogantly.

“The great oasis by the Western Sea,” Halle interjected. “The sea breeze helps keep the city cool despite the desert heats, and the castle of Norin is one of the oldest in the world. Or so I read.” Halle savored the look of satisfactory pride the prince was giving her.

“Well, much of Norin is the oldest in the world. There’s a reason why it took ten years for it to fall to the Empire.” Only Ledia could turn a defeat into a point of pride and she turned up her nose at Halle.

Halle paid Ledia no mind, her attention only on Derek. His mother had lived in that castle as one of Mhashan’s princesses. He was a prince of two worlds. “What is the food like?” she asked, deciding to stay involved in the conversation.

“Western food is cleaner than the things you have in the South. We use less butters and oils,” Ledia proclaimed haughtily.

Halle barely refrained from rolling her eyes.

“There is a dish I think you would like, actually,” Derek hummed. “They take the peel of lemons and candy them with sugar.”

“That does sound delicious.” Halle smiled conspiratorially, remembering the lemon cake they shared in Derek’s garden.

“Perhaps we can find some at the Crossroads.” The prince removed his helm a moment to run a hand through his hair. Sweat made it stick to his head and Halle debated which style was better.

“And what about Eastern food?” Ledia asked, interrupting Halle’s admiration of the prince.

“It’s simple, I suppose.” In truth, Halle’s family had never had money for expensive or fancy foods. “I’ve never had a better bread than from home around harvest time. But I grew up mostly in the South.”

“Oh yes, library apprentice,” Ledia said matter-of-factly.

It annoyed Halle that this other woman just happened to know things about her and never explained how.

Halle opened her mouth to speak when a horn blew out from the south of the column. They were not more than a few hours into the march; surely it could not be time to stop. Everyone turned when the horn blew again in warning.

Halle heard Derek curse loudly before his horse broke into a run, sprinting through the ranks toward his father in the legion ahead of them. Ledia squinted at the horizon. Halle looked also.

“What is it?” she asked, trying to discern the reason for the sudden change in mood.

“It looks like a sandstorm. Mother save us.” Ledia’s head turned forward and back again. “There’re too many on foot ...” she mumbled and her head snapped to the right. “Arel!” Ledia called. Arel caught the other woman’s eyes. “How far out is the first barrier wall of the Crossroads?”

“An hour, maybe, of hard riding,” Arel replied, squinting over her shoulder.

“A closer town?” Ledia gripped her reigns.

“None that I know of.” Arel frowned, her face pulled taut.

“We’ll have to make a run then.” Ledia cursed and sped forward toward the Imperial family.

“What’s going on?” Halle was confused.

“It’s a sandstorm, Vhal.” Finch looked back again uncertainly. “It’s far off, but we don’t want to be tangled up in one of those. They’re temperamental and fast. If we can make it to shelter, it may only kill a few from suffocation. There’s a lot here the wind could pick up and turn into projectile nightmares.”

“Is it that bad?” she asked in shock.

“The Western winds are known to be strong enough to rip trees from their roots and sweep grown men off their feet like ragdolls. They normally blow with the summer air. It’s abnormal for a winter one. We’re not prepared,” Finch replied gravely.

Halle twisted in her saddle, looking at the dark point on the horizon. At best it may kill? That didn’t sound like a best case scenario to her. She wondered if she imagined it growing in the southern skyline. Another horn blew out, a series of blasts and others picked up its call. Derek and Ledia rode back together.

“We make haste for the Crossroads!” the prince shouted, calling attention of all the soldiers in the Black Legion. “Speak not another word and listen for orders.”

It seemed as though everyone understood at once what was happening and the host picked up its pace. But with so many soldiers on foot, they were severely limited in speed. Halle glanced over her shoulder. It seemed like they were making headway against it, or it wasn’t coming their way.

Then the wind shifted.

She felt it there, the raging angry mass behind them. It was a fury unlike any Halle had ever felt before. It was pure power and wind that pushed forward to consume every last person in their host. Halle turned back and saw it again. It appeared no bigger, but she knew better.

How much longer until the Crossroads?” she hissed to Finch and Arel.

“I don’t know. I’ve only been this way once before,” Arel whispered back. Her voice was barely audible over the horses’ hooves on the stone road.

“How much longer?” Halle tried Ledia, the other woman glanced at her in annoyance but Halle gave her an unwavering stare. She’d have none of it.

“Maybe less than thirty minutes?” Ledia said.

Halle cursed. They wouldn’t make it. She felt it.

“My prince!” Halle called. Derek glared at her sharply for speaking out of turn, she ignored it. “We’re not going to make it if we don’t go faster.”

Seriousness furrowed his brow. “You’re sure?” he asked gravely.

Halle ripped off her gauntlets and stuffed them into her saddlebag. Clenching her hands into fists, she let go of the reins completely and held them in the air. Closing her eyes, Halle unfurled her fingers, not caring how silly it may look. The wind pushed through and around her hands, she felt the storm’s power at the end of every gust.

Her eyes snapped open. “We won’t make it!”

Ledia’s attention darted from her to Derek. “Derek, there’s no other cover but the barrier walls for the Crossroads.” Tension brought Ledia’s voice to a tremble.

Halle scanned the landscape around them. It was true. Sand and sand as far as the eye could see. She glanced over her shoulder. The dark spot had turned to a wall on the horizon.

“Damn it!” Derek spurred his horse forward again and Halle saw him race back to his father. For just a brief moment she saw the Emperor look back in her direction. Derek’s horse dropped its pace and the host sped around him as he returned to his place. Another horn blew out followed by more.

The Imperial army was in a run along the Great Imperial Way. The rumble of horses and the chorus of armor cut through the slowly increasing volume of the wind. Halle looked back at the sections of carts, those horses couldn’t be pushed any faster without losing their load. Foot soldiers were already being left behind as those who were mounted began to panic and push faster. She saw the roaring wall behind them, blotting out the sun ominously.

A heavy realization pulsed through her. They still weren’t going to make it. Horses wouldn’t outrun this wind. Even for a single rider it was too large and too fast. Halle absorbed the panicked faces of the people around her, the strained expressions of her friends.

Not a single word was said among any of the soldiers. It seemed as though she wasn’t the only one to come to the sobering awareness of their plight. It didn’t require magic to feel the ever increasing gusts that began to make men and women stumble and mounts falter. A horn blew out, a frantic pulsing sound. Everyone turned. Halle’s heart beat in her throat.

A swirling mass of sand and death cut from earth to sky. The wind howled and consumed everything in its path, plunging the world into darkness. It stretched out on either side of them. The storm meant to swallow them whole and was about to begin its meal with the last rider at the end of the host.

Halle’s saw the faces of those around her as they confronted their own mortality. Her gaze swept back until it fell on Derek. He had a tormented expression of frustration and desperation. Halle felt something pulse through her frantically; she would not let him die.

As if feeling the intensity of her attention, Derek’s head snapped back at her; something on her face made panic overcome him. She barely saw the movement of his lips as he was going to say something. Halle turned Lightning hard to the right, cutting between the legions.