The Tales of the Wanderer Volume One: A Book of Underrealm (The Underrealm Volumes 4) Garrett Robinson (poetry books to read TXT) 📖

Despite herself, I saw a smile tugging at the corner of Ditra’s mouth. “Yes, see that you do, will you? I have waited for the fool to return home for quite some time. It would be a tragic shame to lose him now.”

“Like an old pet,” said Mag, brightening immediately.

“I am not—”

“Yes, exactly,” said Ditra, and now she could not stop the grin from spreading across her face.

I subsided, glowering into the darkness of the dale. But despite my objections, the smile on Ditra’s face was worth any amount of jibes aimed at me.

Her good mood faded as she returned to business. “You will want pitch arrows,” she told me. “There are many stored along the wall. Fill your quiver. There are torches and braziers, too, which you can use to light them.” She turned to Mag. “I take it from the spear in your hand that you are not much of an archer.”

“Not much of one, no,” said Mag.

“You will want oil, then,” said Ditra. “Your spear will be little help other than as a distraction. Carry a few flasks on your belt. If you can soak a troll with oil, that will let the archers take care of them. The flasks are stowed near the arrows.”

“As you say, Rangatira.” Mag bowed to her and went to fetch them. I stared at her retreating back, scowling. Finally I caught Ditra giving me an amused look, and I turned the scowl upon her.

“She keeps bowing to you.”

Ditra smirked. “She bowed to me when you all first arrived.”

“When she was trying to deceive you,” I said. “The last few times, it has been genuine.”

“I consider it a great honor to receive such courtesy from the Uncut Lady herself.”

Together we peered out into the darkness, searching for the first sign of our foes. “They are coming sooner than we thought. I had hoped they would rest.”

Ditra shrugged. “We did not think they would attack the city at all for at least another week. It is the Shades’ doing.” Her expression grew grim. “It is Kaita’s.”

“We must look for her in the battle,” I said. “If she falls …”

Ditra shook her head. “I have little hope that that will stop them. She may be spurring the trolls on, but she seems to be doing so from the rear. And even if we fell her, the trolls do not follow humans. They have been persuaded to make up their minds, and that will not change simply because one human dies on the battlefield.”

“It might make me feel better, at least,” I muttered.

She sighed, frowning down at her feet. “I suppose I agree.”

“Her actions were not your doing,” I said.

“I kept Maia from working with you, as he wished to do. I wanted to make it right with her somehow … after what Mother did, I mean.”

“That was a kind and just thing to do.”

“But not a wise thing to do,” she said.

“I doubt we would have found her even with Maia’s help. And I would not have trusted unsworn strangers from another land any more than you did.”

Ditra considered that for a moment, and then she shook herself. “Well, we can never repeat the past. There is only the present, and whatever future remains to us.”

“If we can hold until the king sends their army …”

“That is doubtful. We have never seen more than a dozen or so trolls at a time. We managed to kill a few in the city, but there are still nearly two hundreds of them, and I have scarcely twice that number of soldiers at my command.”

“But you have your walls,” I told her. “They were built to withstand trolls.”

“Nothing can withstand them forever.”

Something in her tone worried me. For a moment I forgot that she was the Lord Telfer, that she was, by rights, my Rangatira. For a moment I saw only my sister. I reached out and gently took her shoulder.

“Ditra. You cannot give up.”

She did not look at me. “I will not surrender to them, if that is what you mean.”

“I mean you cannot give up hope.”

“Hope,” she snorted. “I have been so ill acquainted with it for so many years that I no longer know what it looks like. And how am I to be reminded now, when the night is dark and an unstoppable foe lurks just beyond the doorstep? I am Lord Ditra of the family Telfer, Rangatira of Tokana. It looks as though we will be the last of Mother’s children to fall. If you had remained in Strapa, that might have left me with some small hope—the idea that you could return and take my place. But if one of us falls tonight, we both shall.”

“There is always Vera,” I said. “And I never thought I would return here at all. No one knows what fortune may bring.”

“Nor whether it will be kind or cruel.” At last she met my eyes and smiled, but I could see that it was mostly for show. She reached out and gripped my shoulder. “Go and fetch yourself some arrows. Be ready for the call to retreat—if they take the walls, we will fall back to the keep. Above all, look after yourself. I do not know if we can survive this battle. But if we can, I expect you to emerge on the other side of it.”

“I can only promise that I will try,” I told her. “But then, I have been trying to stay alive for a good long while now, and I have managed it so far.”

“Then take this as an order from your Rangatira: stay alive tonight.”

“Only if you do the same.” I bowed, and then I stepped forwards to place my forehead against hers, the act of greeting and farewell between family.

We parted, me to fetch my arrows, and her to see to the last arrangements of defense. Soldiers gathered atop the eastern gate and