The Daylight War
Page 155‘How many dead?’ she asked.
Thamos shook his head. ‘Hundreds confirmed already, but there are over a thousand unaccounted for. We’re only just starting to gather the remains of bodies left out in the night and take stock of those here in the hospit. I thought Captain Gamon dead until I saw him here in plaster.’
Leesha nodded. ‘He was knocked from his seat, but his armour caught on the saddle, and his horse dragged him all the way back to the greatward. His hip is broken, and he has a concussion.’
‘Will he walk again?’ Thamos asked.
Leesha shrugged. ‘If I have anything to say he will, but we haven’t been doing our best work, Highness. Keeping folk alive has been the priority.’ She made no mention of the demon bones she had depleted to save Gamon’s life. She cared deeply for the count, and believed he had his people’s best interests at heart, but the knowledge that she could heal with magic wasn’t something she was ready to share just yet. Of those working in the makeshift hospit, only she and Amanvah knew the art. There wasn’t nearly enough hora to save everyone, and she had no idea how some might take to the idea of being healed with coreling magic.
Thamos moved close to her, putting his strong hands on her shoulders to squeeze. For a moment she let herself lean on him, suddenly realizing how very tired she was.
‘You should rest,’ Thamos said.
Leesha shook herself, pulling away from his tempting embrace. ‘There are people who need my help, Highness. If you think I’m going to let them wait so I can sit and rub my feet, you don’t know me at all. Please go and leave me to my work.’
But the count stood his ground. ‘We have men scouting the demon wards and mapping their stockpiles of ammunition, but we’re going to need flamework to destroy them before the sun sets and it begins again.’
Leesha nodded. ‘Tell Darsy Cutter what you need, and she’ll see it done, but consult the Warders on where to place it. There’s a limit to the flamework, and we can’t afford to waste a single thunderstick.’
‘Out in the night, I feared I would never get to do that again,’ he whispered.
Leesha smiled. ‘Take two, then.’
Renna stayed by Arlen’s side through the night and into the next day, waiting for him to stir. His wounds had closed, but there was no sign that he was coming around.
Don’t you leave me, Arlen Bales, she thought. Can’t do this without you.
She managed a few hours of sleep after sunrise, curled protectively at Arlen’s side. She woke with a start to the sound of an explosion in the distance. She was on her feet instantly, ready to fight, but there was still sunlight streaming in through the tent flap of the healing pavilion. She glanced down at Arlen, but he hadn’t moved at all.
‘The count’s men are marring the greatwards and destroying stockpiles,’ Leesha said, catching Renna’s eye for a moment before resuming her rounds, checking on the most seriously wounded patients and giving instructions to other Gatherers.
She smelled of exhaustion, but you wouldn’t see it looking at her. Renna, still flush with power from the night’s fighting, felt strong and alert. Leesha had no such advantage, but still she worked. At the far side of the tent, Amanvah and Sikvah ministered as tirelessly to the injured Sharum.
And what have I done? Slept. Renna looked down at Arlen, running a hand down his cheek. ‘Keep restin’, love.’ She kissed him. ‘I’ll make sure you still have a place to wake up to.’
Folk came to her the moment she left the pavilion, asking after Arlen. She told them he was all right, only sleeping to gather his strength, and moved on to see what she could do to throw in. More explosions echoed in the distance, but there was little she could do to assist there.
Leesha watched as Thamos paced behind the map table. Like her, he had not rested throughout the day, and his eyes were dark and sunken in his handsome face. Arther stood near his lord, a contrast in his stillness.
They were back in the count’s pavilion in the Corelings’ Graveyard, having just overseen the transfer of wounded from Newhaven to the hospit in Cutter’s Hollow. Leesha had been so proud of the building when it was first raised, but now, with wounded overflowing, it seemed woefully inadequate. If the Hollow survived, she would need to expand.
With Captain Gamon wounded, Thamos had once again assumed direct control of the Wooden Soldiers. He had called this last meeting as sunlight faded to go over plans for the coming night. Gared, Wonda, and the Butchers were there, along with Renna, Rojer, Amanvah, Sikvah, and Enkido. Even Drillmaster Kaval had been allowed in, though Thamos’ guards had disarmed him and eyed him warily. Inquisitor Hayes and Child Franq clutched Canons, eyes closed as they mouthed silent prayers.
Leesha looked back to the count and, for an instant, wished he was Ahmann. She wondered, not for the first time, what was happening to the south in Everam’s Bounty. Were they under similar assault? Likely they were, but Leesha did not feel as worried for the Krasians as she did for the Hollow.
It wasn’t fair to Thamos, but she could not help but compare him with her Krasian lover. Whatever atrocities Jardir had committed in the name of his Holy War against demonkind, the man exuded confidence and inspired it in others. Thamos was a good man and strong, but he exuded doubt and it was palpable in the room.
It was Amanvah who asked the question on everyone’s mind. ‘Where is the Par’chin?’
‘Sleeping,’ Leesha said.
Amanvah gave her a coldly appraising look. ‘The sun is soon to set. Should we not wake him?’
Leesha shook her head. ‘He took a terrible blow to the head. Shaking and shouting isn’t going to rouse him before he’s ready, or do him any good even if it could.’
‘He will,’ Renna cut in. ‘When the sun sets he’ll get his strength back.’
‘Like a demon,’ Child Franq said.
Renna was across the room in an instant, her face a feral snarl. Franq stumbled backward, tripping over a stool and landing on his backside. ‘Say that again,’ she dared.
Franq quickly regained his feet. He was taller than Renna, but she seemed the larger of the two, moving forward as he shrank back. Leesha took a steadying breath, feeling her head begin to throb again. Fighting among themselves would serve no one but the corelings, but she, too, wanted to punch the Holy Man, and had no energy to break them apart.
Surprisingly, it was the Inquisitor who ended the confrontation, putting a firm hand on Franq’s shoulder. ‘The Child will be silent.’
Franq looked at his master in disbelief, but the Tender’s eyes were hard. ‘His Highness is correct. However he did it, Mr Bales saved us all last night. If he broke the Creator’s law to do so, let Him judge that in the afterlife. It is for us to be thankful and strive to see another dawn.’