Page 58 of Winds of Death (War of the Alliance #4)

Chapter

Thirty-One

F ieran guided his aeroplane in a sweep over the series of trenchworks forming the new Mongavarian-Escarlish front lines, Merrik shadowing his movements.

Puffs of smoke from the artillery guns marked the continued barrage, but the main fighting had died down as both sides sought to regroup and dig in.

The Alliance still held a toehold within Mongavaria and, unlike previous raids across the border, this time they intended to keep it. The first phase of attrition had ended. Now the long slog to battle Mongavaria into the ground had begun.

As Fieran flew farther south, the winking of sunlight on a huge, flat expanse of water spread out below.

Winderdon Lake was tucked on the Mongavarian side of the Whitehurst Mountains.

It had been the headwaters of the Chibo River, but now a massive landslide—most of the top of one of the mountains—blocked that end of the lake.

Instead, the lake flooded the plains to the east, inundating what had once been fertile farm fields and homesteads. Fieran could only hope the Mongavarians had moved their people out of the way before they’d purposely flooded their homes and fields.

All that effort, and Mongavaria hadn’t even secured their objective.

While there were a few passes through the Whitehurst Mountains and fighting was currently fierce there from what Fieran had heard, the flatland where Fort Defense stood was the best—and perhaps only—place to bring a large mechanized army into Escarland.

It had been Mongavaria’s bad luck that they hadn’t added Rhohen into their calculations. They’d sent machines to counter Dacha, another one to take out Fieran, but the Alliance had had a third warrior with the magic of the ancient kings to stem the invasion before it could cross the border.

Nor had the enemy counted on the strength of the magic of the ancient kings.

Even with all those machines leveled against him and the Wall, Dacha hadn’t been fully drained, and only the Wall between Mongavaria and Escarland had gone down.

The rest of the Wall along Escarland’s, Tarenhiel’s, and Kostaria’s other borders remained.

Turning back to the north, Fieran flew his patrol route back toward Fort Defense. He waggled his wings as he passed one of the Alliance airships also patrolling the sky over Fort Defense.

The fort itself had been mostly set to rights in the day that had passed since the battle. The trainyard was functioning again, even though piles of rubble still piled against and within the damaged structures.

Even as he flew over the trainyard, a train was parked at the station, and crates upon crates of weapons and ammunition were being loaded on trucks to be hauled to the various warehouses.

A few rudimentary armored vehicles rolled off flatbeds, although they weren’t as sophisticated as the dwarven-built tanks.

It seemed the Alliance had also been developing such weapons for mechanized warfare, stockpiling them for the day when they took the fight to Mongavaria.

Mongavaria had moved that day up by a month or so by taking down the Wall, but that changed little in the Alliance’s strategy. The time to attack was now.

Fieran passed Lije and Stickyfingers as they piloted their aeroplanes higher into the sky to take up the patrol. Waving to them, Fieran lined up on the airfield, bleeding off air speed as he came in for a landing.

Once he and Merrik had landed, both of them climbed out of their aeroplanes. As it was a short flight, Merrik wasn’t limping since his leg hadn’t stiffened and his stump hadn’t swollen.

When they stepped into the hangar, Colonel Dentley was waiting near where Fieran’s aeroplane was usually parked.

“Sir.” Fieran came to attention, Merrik beside him.

“The recent battle made it clear that a more coordinated effort is needed in the sky.” Colonel Dentley strode closer, a weariness in his gaze. “Capt. Fleetwood and Capt. Hadley both agree that you’re the best man for the job.”

Capt. Hadley. He must have been given a field promotion. Or his official promotion had finally gone through.

“Sir?” Fieran didn’t shift, but he wasn’t quite sure where Colonel Dentley was going with this.

“I’m giving you a field promotion and I’ve put in the paperwork to make it official. Congratulations, Maj. Laesornysh.” With that, Colonel Dentley spun and marched away.

For a moment, all Fieran could do was stand there, blinking. That was abrupt. Perfunctory, even.

But that was the way of things now. They were at war, fighting to keep Mongavaria from setting foot on their soil. There wasn’t time for elaborate ceremonies and speeches.

Merrik clapped him on the back. And that was that.

Fieran stood next to Dacha, his hand and arm raised in a solemn salute as the honor guard carried casket after flag-draped casket down the road between two lines of saluting soldiers and onto the waiting train.

Dark circles still smudged beneath Dacha’s eyes, but he was out of bed, and he was standing. That was all Fieran could ask for at the moment.

Somewhere on that train, the two crates holding the machines Pip had retrieved had already been stowed and even now were under guard for their trip to Aldon. Hopefully they would have answers soon.

The very last casket had a royal red-and-white sash draped over the Escarlish flag.

Fieran’s throat squeezed, but his hand didn’t wobble as the soldiers carried his cousin past. He murmured so that only Dacha could hear, “We need to end this war.”

“We will, sason.” Dacha’s gaze remained locked on the casket. “We will.”

With the final casket gone, Dacha, then Fieran lowered their hands. Dacha glanced at Uncle Weylind, who stood on the other side of him. “I should be there for him.”

“Your duty is here. Averett understands that.” Uncle Weylind clasped Dacha’s shoulder before he stepped out of line and joined the end of the procession climbing onto the train.

Uncle Julien took Uncle Weylind’s spot next to Dacha and, when he spoke, his voice was low and choked. “I know. I wish I could go as well. He was under my command, and I…I sent him there.”

Dacha rested a hand on Uncle Julien’s shoulder, and Uncle Julien matched the gesture, the two of them bolstering each other with their presence.

Fieran swallowed and looked away, staring at the train as the large rolling doors were closed.

Despite the fact that a royal prince of Escarland had been killed, Dacha, Fieran, Uncle Julien, Aunt Vriska, Uncle Rharreth, and Rhohen were all staying here to continue the war. Uncle Weylind had been the only one who could be spared.

With a mournful whistle, the train chugged away from the platform, heading for Aldon. As soon as it was out of sight, the soldiers and officers forming the two lines began to disperse, everyone heading back to the demanding duties of war.

Uncle Julien released Dacha’s shoulder before he, too, straightened and strode away with several adjutants and aides flocking to him. He was once again the general with a war to win rather than an uncle grieving how he’d gotten his great-grandnephew killed.

Pip appeared at Fieran’s other side from where she had been waiting farther back and took his hand, leaning her head against his shoulder. A few tears tracked down her face, but she wasn’t openly sobbing.

Merrik and Uncle Iyrinder joined them as well, the five of them remaining at the station even as nearly everyone else left. With every second that passed, Merrik grew more fidgety, shifting and unable to stand still in a way that was more Fieran’s mode than Merrik’s.

Within a few minutes, another train glided toward the platform from where it had been likely waiting on a siding for the other train to leave.

This one was one of the trains modified to run on both Escarlish rails and Tarenhieli roots, and it settled into place at the station much more quietly than the other train had departed.

No sooner had the train halted than the door of the first train car opened. A tall young woman with pointed elven ears, long red-gold hair, and blue eyes the same color as Fieran’s strode onto the platform, the hilts of her swords winking in the morning sunlight.

Adry.

Fieran took a step forward, but his dacha’s arm shot out, holding him back. When he glanced at his dacha, Dacha gave one slight shake of his head.

Fieran felt it as an almost physical thing. The shifting as he and Dacha took a metaphorical step back, ceding the place of being the first to greet her.

Instead, Merrik was the one who dashed forward, grinning broadly, his eyes gleaming as he launched himself up the steps.

“Merrik!” Adry flung herself into his arms, and he swept her up with an abandon Fieran had never seen from Merrik before.

And then…Fieran yanked his gaze up to the sky. They were kissing. His best friend and his sister were kissing. Right in front of him. In front of everyone.

His ears were burning, and when he risked a peek at Dacha, his ears were flushed as pink as Fieran’s probably were.

Pip gave a tug on Fieran’s hand, and when he glanced down at her, she was grinning, eyes sparkling as she kept peeking, then looking away. At least someone found this whole situation hilarious.

When Fieran finally dared a glance again, Merrik was picking up Adry’s bag as she raced down the steps. “Dacha!”

She flung herself into Dacha’s arms and hugged him. Dacha embraced her in return. “Sena. It is good to see you.”

“And you.” Adry stepped back, straightening her shoulders. “Practice tomorrow morning?”

“Yes.” Dacha glanced around, tipped his head, and eased back to the shadows of one of the buildings, followed by Uncle Iyrinder.

Adry turned to where Fieran still held Pip’s hand, although Pip was now clutching his fingers hard enough to hurt.

With a grin, Adry swept to Pip and gave her a quick hug.

“Pip! I’m so happy to finally meet you. Merrik, Mama, Louise, Ellie, and Tryndar told me all about you, and it really was unfair for Fieran to finally bring home a girlfriend when I was gone and couldn’t meet you. ”

“It’s…nice to meet you too.” Pip stiffly returned Adry’s hug with her free arm, her expression that same wide-eyed look she wore when overwhelmed around Dacha.

“I see how it is. No hello for me?” Fieran tried to give Adry an annoyed glare.

“Yes, yes, hello.” Adry gave him a light punch on the arm. “Your new girlfriend is much more interesting.”

“You’ve already stolen my best friend. You can’t steal my girlfriend away for girl chats or whatever just yet.” Fieran worked to hold his frown.

“If I steal Pip for girl time, you can have Merrik back for guy time.” Adry made a grand wave at where Merrik stood a few feet behind her.

“The two of you had better not fight over me like one of your childhood toys.” Merrik shook his head with an almost resigned shrug of his shoulders. He looked at Pip. “Fair warning. They fight like cats and dogs just as often as they get along.”

Fieran exaggerated his offended look as he tugged Pip closer. “I’ve turned a new, more mature leaf. If I can get along with Rhohen, then surely I can avoid fighting with Adry.”

After all, Fieran owed Rhohen one. Perhaps two. First for saving Pip on the battlefield, and second for saving all of Fort Defense from attack.

“You’re getting along with Rhohen? Really?” Adry draped an arm over his shoulder before she reached her free hand back to Merrik. “I need to hear all about this.”

Merrik took her hand, a soft smile joining the bemusement as he joined them.

With Pip’s hand in his, Fieran flung his other arm over Adry’s shoulders, Merrik on her other side.

They had a terrible, bloody fight ahead of them. But with the four of them together, Mongavaria didn’t stand a chance.