The Legend of Asahiel: Book 03 - The Divine Talisman by Eldon Thompson

return to the city at once, or we destroy this wagon, here and now.”
    His ruse was up. He would have to reveal himself—and likely his true purpose—if he meant to escape. Even then, he had no doubt that Rogun himself would take part in the final decision before he was allowed to leave.
    He was about to draw back his hood when the thunder of an approaching rider stole his—and then the colonel’s—attention.
    “Colonel Venmore,” the messenger greeted, after pulling his steed to a thrashing halt. “Commander Zain bids you gather as many as can be spared to join him at once at the head of the Hanoan Promontory.”
    “What is it?”
    “A delegation under Drakmar banner approaches, sir. The commander has been ordered to welcome it in full force.”
    The colonel glanced back at the work taking place around him. “I don’t have time for welcoming committees,” he muttered.
    “Sir?”
    “Strike that, Corporal. Inform the commander that we are on your heels.”
    “Upon your command, sir.”
    “Given.”
    The nameless rider twisted his mount’s head and put heel to flank, spurring it back up the rise.
    Just like that, Allion was forgotten, as Venmore turned to his aides and runners and issued the necessary orders.
    “You there,” the colonel added before turning away, and Allion knew—without a great deal of surprise—that he was not to be let off so easy. “I would see you back here within the hour with another load. If not, and I learn that this cart has traveled anywhere other than straight back to the city, I will hunt it down and burn it with both you and your horses strapped to the traces. Is that clear?”
    Allion bowed in his seat, letting the colonel believe that his threat alone was sufficient to ensure compliance.
    To be safe, he drove halfway back to the city before daring to veer off onto one of the lesser roadways that would circle the city west and north before carrying him around to his ultimate destination in the east. The roundabout route would add an hour or more to his journey, and would be difficult to navigate in the darkness, but there was no help for it now.
    More than once, he glanced south along the line of slopes and ridges, down to where hundreds of torches lit the night almost as brightly as one of the giant funeral fires. He was fiercely tempted to go and demand answers of Nevik, but better that he use the diversion provided by the baron’s arrival to make his escape.
    His thoughts darkened by recollection of the task that lay ahead, Allion hunkered in his seat, driving his wagon—and its hidden cargo—into the night.
     
    M ARISHA STEPPED OUT ONTO HER balcony as bells tolled the Raven’s Hour—the last before midnight. Though it had been a long day, her restless thoughts and churning emotions would allow her no sleep.
    Even at this distance, she could smell the smoke from the fires that wrapped the city on three sides. So much death. So much suffering. Would it ever end?
    Worse, she had contributed to it. She had spent more time with Darinor than anyone. She should have been the one to figure out the truth of his Illysp possession. Had she not been such a little girl, blinded by her devotion to a beloved father she’d not seen in more than twelve years…
    But that was not the whole of it. For it was not just love that had blinded her, but personal need. The need to learn who she was and who she was meant to be. Having learned the truth of her heritage as one bearing the blood of the Entients, she had succumbed to that need like never before, defending her father—the only one who could hope to teach her about herself—against all suspicions and challenges. Had she not been so selfish, he might have been exposed much sooner, and the deaths of thousands avoided.
    But “what if” and “might have been” were of no help to anyone now, and so she tried not to dwell on them. She had two choices: become a slave to her devastation, or pick up the pieces and move forward as