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    TWENTY-TWO


    <h2 style="text-transform: uppercase">GOSLIN</h2>


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    Goslin survived his wound. Thys made it back to Fyrie with Goslin on his shoulders and collapsed from exhaustion right outside the Vatner healers’ pavilion. By the time Goslin came to, his savior was already gone.


    “That was stupid,” Lana said.


    She sat back in a heavy wooden chair next to him, one leg slung over the chair’s armrest and the other propped up on Goslin’s bed, the mud from her dirty shoe staining the white sheets.


    “I’m not known for my intelligence,” Goslin said, smiling up at her. “Did you destroy the siege equipment?”


    Lana smiled. “Apparently, you could see the fire from all the way back at the wall. The horde pulled back, so I had to improvise a little with the remaining catapults.”


    “Improvise how?”


    She shrugged her narrow shoulders. “Cut the ropes, tore apart important looking components. That sort of thing.”


    “Thank you, Lana. I knew you could do it.”


    Lana tapped Goslin’s chest. “Well, I just came to check up on you. Me and Thys are going down below again. We think the ritual has resumed.”


    Goslin grimaced. “If you find a Xzxyth down there, please keep it to yourself. We have enough things to worry about at the moment.”


    “We’ll see,” she said, winking. “Rest up now. They’re saying at least a week in bed. You’re going to listen to the good healers, right?”


    They shared a long look, then both burst out laughing.


    Goslin was on his feet within the hour. A stab wound was not something to scoff at, but he had received healing from the Vatners while still unconscious. He was fine, despite swaying a bit on his feet. He blinked away the dizziness. Perhaps he might take things slow at first, just as a precaution.


    A surprise awaited him outside his chamber. Guards. Two of them with spears and grim expressions. At first, he was touched by the council’s willingness to keep him safe, then he realized what was happening. They stood at attention facing him, their eyes nervously shifting. A third man, sitting on a plush chair, cleared his throat.


    “Goslin of House Steerian,” the man said. Goslin recognized him as one of the council’s clerks.


    Glancing back into the room, Goslin saw neither his shield nor sword.


    “How can I help you, friend?” Goslin asked.


    “If you are well enough to walk, you must follow me.”


    “You have my word. I’ll report to the council as soon as I am able, but I have much to do this morning.”


    “It’s afternoon, and I’m afraid I must insist.”


    “You must?” Goslin asked.


    “Goslin of House Steerian, you have been placed under arrest. Please follow me or I will be forced to have you subdued.”


    The clerk looked at the two guards with a face saying he wished he’d brought more soldiers.


    “Arrested? What for?”


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    “Treason.”


    “I’m sorry, sir,” one of the soldiers said.


    “Do you need help?” the other asked, making his way to Goslin as if to help him walk.


    “No worries, lads,” Goslin said. “This must be some huge misunderstanding. I’ll walk on my own two feet.”


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    * * *


    “You want to put me in a cell? Fyrie is on the brink of annihilation and you want to imprison me?”


    Goslin couldn’t wrap his head around what the men and women before him were saying. The words were clear enough, but the reasoning left him dumbfounded.


    “You went far above your rank in the last assault and orders were carried out under your authority that could’ve had devastating consequences,” Landé said. His face spoke volumes of what he thought of the words coming out of his mouth. They were not his, and he did not agree with them. Yet, he spoke them.


    “What orders precisely, <i>dear</i> friend?” Goslin asked.


    “You forced the geomancers to open a tunnel in the very wall separating us from certain doom!” one of the council members blurted out.


    “What if the monsters had entered the city?” another added.


    “We already have monsters prowling the streets,” Goslin protested. “What would you have done in my position? If the pyromancers were allowed to continue unimpeded, they would have disrupted the geomancers enough for Wyndemir’s fist to breach the wall. A small tunnel is nothing compared to that! And the maneuver worked, didn’t it?”


    “Yes. You showed great valor and heroics,” Landé said, his tone genuine.


    “Bolstering your own image to the detriment of the council’s!” one of the merchant council members said.


    “So that’s it? You’re really that small? I did what was right. If you wanted something done differently, you should be on the wall instead of cowering here and bickering amongst yourselves!”


    Goslin reined in his emotions. “I apologize, but decisions must often be made on the field of battle. Landé, you know this.”


    Landé did not reply.


    Instead, one of the council members spoke up again. His face reddened with anger. “Your old friend might sit on this council, but that does not give you the special privileges you’ve been granted throughout your entire spoiled life. Actions have consequences. As you have continued to defy this council, there is only one resolution. Take him away!”


    Goslin did not struggle as the soldier’s hands clamped around his arms. He would not give them the satisfaction.


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    * * *


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    Lana


    With Goslin’s survival secured, Lana really wanted to move below ground to deal with the ritual. Unfortunately, both she and Thys needed rest. Fighting the two strange mages, destroying the siege weapons, and the long trip back to the city had exhausted them both.


    Lana returned to the travelers to check up on them. Things were dire among the rhinn mages. A select few, perhaps a third, of the travelers carried the brunt of holding the gateway and keeping it from opening more. They were the strongest of the bunch.


    But even those rhinn could not hold on forever. They worked in shifts, but it was immediately obvious that they were slowly being ground down by exhaustion. Many passed out from the exertion and one traveler had died from the weight of Wyndemir’s power.


    Lana wished there was something she could do to help them. If they broke, Fyrie was lost. The rest of the world would not be far behind.


    There was one thing she could do. Stop the ritual. The rhinn reported that something was pulling on the gateway from their side. Lana deduced it was the remaining priests of Wyndemir, performing some sort of ritual to help their god enter their world.


    “They’re near breaking,” Thys said, walking up to stand beside her.


    “The ritual has to end.”


    “Have you recovered enough?”


    “No,” Lana admitted. “But it looks like we’re out of time.”


    He nodded, and they stood in silence for a moment before Thys spoke again. “Do we bring help?”


    “Who? Regular soldiers will just be transformed into ravening beasts.”


    “That whiny pyromancer, Tvalfager? Or the shadow-man?”


    “Maybe. Guess it couldn’t hurt to have some more people with us, people we can trust. I’d ask Goslin, but he has too much on his plate already. Also, he’s injured. Can you find the others and ask them?”


    “See you by the entrance tonight, then,” Thys said.


    “Tonight,” Lana agreed.