The Gembound: The Price of Keeping Chapter 53: Volume 2: Chapter 50 — Inevitable

Read chapter 53 of The Gembound: The Price of Keeping by Taliorn on NovelPedia.

Volume 2: Chapter 50 — Inevitable Morning slowly illuminated the hills, the light moving over them steadily, like currency you already possess. When the ridge ended, White City appeared below, displaying the reasons for its name: white from lime-washed walls, white from the faded river-washed banners, and white from the pale faces of those on the battlements, who finally recognized what was coming. Twelve Chainwolves advanced in formation before the host, their fur woven with metal strands that glistened as if rain had become permanent. Seven Bear-Knights followed, heavy in their armor, forming a force that made gates seem less secure. Six Siege-Elk carried platforms for ballistas on their backs, antlers hooked and ready. Two Nightmares walked inside their own shroud, hooves leaving cinders, manes burning with a silence that seemed to swallow all sound. Sam and Harry worked the ridges and walls beside the host, climbing, dropping, crossing alleys in single bounds: two Scions of the same hunger in different keys, Sam green-gold and precise; Harry yellow-green, light bleeding through cracked seams like a lantern about to burst. Three Bear-Knights held position around Yara at a distance you’d call ceremonial if you’d never seen them move. Marcus took the right with the veterans. Varrek paced left with wedge crews and chalk at the ready. Bruno walked with the Chainwolves, head tilted to catch signals no human ear should have understood; Weaver’s small escorts flitted above sparrows, crows, a one-eyed magpie wearing a thread like a medal. Small Voices were invisible until they weren’t, stitching the city’s rumor to Yara’s understanding. “Wards on the inner ring,” Weaver said in her head through three sparrow-throats at once. “Old symbols, simple logic chains, caretaker prayer-ladders. Not bright. Not empty.” “Severin?” Marcus asked aloud. “Highest room in the keep,” Weaver reported. “Window on the river. Breathing shallow. No guard close.” Marcus: “Terms?” “No,” Yara said. “Not today.” He nodded. There was relief in it, and there would be judgment later, and both would be right. They crested the last rise. The White City finally remembered to ring bells. “Positions,” Yara said, and the army unrolled. The Siege-Elk planted and pivoted. Chainwolves flowed forward like an idea becoming a habit. Oil came over the parapets a breath later, a shining veil that the Chainwolves read as a column to flow around, not through. The defenders lit it; flame gusted up with the brittle roar of lamps dropped in a chapel. The wolves kept moving, armor hooding their faces, feet quiet as an apology. “Gate,” Varrek said. “Gate,” Yara answered. Bear-Knights Four and Five hit together, one step off, perfect timing because perfect timing wastes the good accident. The outer leaves of the gate bowed, answered, broke. Nightmares went through at a trot and turned the near-yard into a mistake men told other men not to repeat. The chain over the inner mouth parted with a noise like a breath held too long. The first wall didn’t fall. It un-happened. Twenty minutes. "Faster than Pale Stone," Marcus said softly. "We're better," Yara said. "And they're only soldiers." She didn't slow for the burning. She didn't praise the forming. She walked. Daryl worked the second wall quietly, intent as gravity’s advocate. He appeared on the battlements where three archers had been arguing about range, and for a heartbeat, they thought he was one of theirs because wanting a thing to be true makes better liars than facts do. He touched the first man's bowstring, and it remembered it was just dried gut that had been under tension too long. The snap took two fingers. The second archer swung his bow like a club; Daryl stepped through the arc as if the weapon were a door he'd been invited to walk past, then tapped the man's knee in a way that suggested sitting down might be wise. The third dropped his bow and ran. "Smart," Daryl said to no one, and was already smoke by the time the man