by B A Vonsik
“I still do not fully understand Father but cannot let him pay the gold for my failings.” Rogaan spoke aloud, though his words were only meant for himself. Returning his attention to the here and now, he breathed a big sigh of relief. The Seb’Ner had not discovered them. Rogaan looked to Trundiir for any indication they were to move. The Tellen just sat quietly watching the road and hillside. Rogaan looked about. No soldiers or scouts. The songs of featherwings started to pick up as increasing numbers of the colorful flying creatures started darting about the trees and brush. Off in the distance, on the road, small leapers appeared looking nervously about. Trundiir remained still even as Rogaan looked expectantly at him several times. Rogaan grew anxious to move, to leave this place. Trundiir continued his watch over their surroundings.
“I think you understand him more than you admit,” the Tellen spoke softly like rocks grumbling. Rogaan stared at him with heat in his cheeks. Trundiir obviously paid heed to his spoken aloud thoughts. “Mithraam is respected by many more than you will ever know. His causes are noble, just, and with purpose. At least that is what I hear spoken of him by those who have knowledge of your father. He is not so much a secret as you believe.”
“What purpose in keeping himself prisoner?” Rogaan asked more of the air than of Trundiir.
“The Zas sent all of Farratum after him . . . by my understanding,” hinted the white-haired Tellen at something more. “He sent you away on your hunt to keep you safe.”
“How is my story known by so many?” asked Rogaan in a frustrated tone before dropping his eyes to his boots and losing himself in his own pool of melancholy . . . at the truth. “Father did not consider me ready for . . . this.”
“Whoever is?” Trundiir offered a point of view, then answered Rogaan’s earlier question. “Kardul spoke of your hunt.”
“Traitor.” Rogaan declared the big Kiuri’Ner something most would find difficult to believe.
“Traitor to you and your father,” Trundiir spoke calmly. “Not so to Farratum.”
Rogaan glared at the white-haired Tellen trying to figure out if Trundiir was defending Kardul. Does he have loyalties to the Kiuri’Ner? Rogaan asked himself in silence.
“To the good of the lands . . . and the people within Kardul is a traitor,” Trundiir declared with a finality in his voice. “He has misguided loyalties and a cruel nature he considers necessary.”
“Let us not forget my mother,” Rogaan added before continuing with a flare of indignance. “And Pax and Suhd, their lightless parents, and folks from home to wherever the traitor is now.”
“He rode with the Seb’Ner when they passed,” Trundiir informed with calm, even words.
“What?” Rogaan sat gawking.
“Yes,” Trundiir reaffirmed. “Your father and his captors will be joining Kardul and the Seb’Ner. Likely in Anza.”
“What are you up to, Father?” Rogaan asked the air aloud again.
“By what my eyes have seen,” Trundiir spoke calmly as he scanned the hillside and road below, “he battles malevolence to keep worst things from taking hold.”
“I cannot leave him captive,” Rogaan flatly stated.
“I know,” the Tellen replied to Rogaan’s statement.
They sat for a little time longer simply listening and watching the animals return to their daily routines, though the small brown leapers made Rogaan nervous as they slowly worked their way at the side of the road in their direction.
“Keep your distance from the Baraan woman,” offered Trundiir.
“Her name is Suhd,” Rogaan shot back, unable to decide if the Tellen’s words were advice or a demand.
“Take notice . . . There is that anger protective of her I spoke of,” explained Trundiir. He then continued. “Keep upwind of her as well until I can find what is needed to make an old family fix that may help you resist her and all other Baraan females who have sway as potent . . . as Suhd’s.”
Rogaan stewed for a time at the Tellen’s words while Trundiir watched him and the hillside. Wanting to defend Suhd, Rogaan tried several times to speak of her to convince Trundiir his observations were wrong, but something stopped his every attempt. He eventually huffed a defeated sigh and put his head in his hands.
“Ready to go?” Trundiir asked as well as announced. “Needed to ensure no scouts lagged behind the column and for you to get your head right.”
Trundiir rose, then collected the rest of the group. As they gathered around, he and Rogaan distributed the equipment taken from the lightless scouts, whose bodies laid stripped of everything except their underclothes.
“Try these on.” Rogaan handed Aren a pair of black, soft-soled boots taken from the smaller of the two scouts.
The Evendiir gleefully accepted the boots, then tried them on, jumping up and taking a short walk, then a dance that brought curious smiles to everyone. “A little large, but they’ll make for better travels over these rocks than those blasted sandals.”
“Good,” Trundiir stated with a tone of finality. “We are going to a place I know on the dusk and mountain-side of Haven. I found it when I was here a long time ago.”
“Ya be here before?” Pax asked.
“As I said, many Dur’Anki ago,” Trundiir answered sharply and dismissively.
“Where be ya takin’ us?” Suhd asked.
“Caves where we will be safe from the Tusaa’Ner and Seb’Ner . . . and hopefully, this Shunned,” answered the white-haired Tellen. “At least until they leave Anza.”
“You’re taking us east . . . is that not the same direction the Seb’Ner traveled?” Aren more stated than asked.
“We will keep away from roads.” Trundiir pulled out a folded leather map of Shuruppak showing everyone the place he was taking them with a big finger pointing to a spot northwest of Anza. It lay on a direct path over the hills from Anza to where they now stood. Haven and the roads servicing it sat marches north and east of the caves.
“What of my father?” Rogan asked. “He is still prisoner of the Tusaa’Ner and this Shunned. I fear what they have planned for him.”
“Da Tusaa’Ner, da Seb’Ner, and what else be . . .” Pax offered a line of reasoned thought concerning Mithraam making the case not to rescue him. “What else be in Anza ta take us? It be ta much. I be all Suhd has.”
Rogaan stood silently battling with his own sense of duty to his father . . . and mother and this overshadowing sense of guilt for his part and responsibility in the Lights of Pax and Suhd’s parents being taken. They only have each other as family now. How can I ask any more of them? Rogaan chastised himself for his disregard of their fears and wishes.
“I say we go to Anza,” Aren offered his opinion. “It’s less dangerous than staying out here.”
“No!” Suhd exclaimed. “Pax . . . We can no go. So many of them. Sakes and others.”
Pax hugged his sister to him as he glared at Aren. Guilt swept over Rogaan, powerful and demanding. He shook his head trying to clear it. No good. He still felt heady. In the corner of his eye, Trundiir stood holding a leaf just above his waist, the wind blowing it lightly. WIND! Rogaan looked at the leaf. The wind blew from Suhd to him. I am downwind. As Pax and Aren argued in a verbal sparring match, Rogaan quietly moved from where he stood walking around the group until the wind no long blew her “sway” onto him. Immediately, his light-headedness started to improve. Wow! That really does work, he concluded as Trundiir smiled and nodded in approval.
“We can no go ta Anza or anyplace dis side of da river . . . until dey leave,” Pax declared.
Rogaan did not know what to say. His friendship with them cost them almost everything, and his guilt for their suffering just continued growing. Rogaan looked to Trundiir for help, for him to say . . . Rogaan was not sure what he wanted the Tellen to say.
“I still say we go to Anza,” Aren offered again as he squarely looked at Pax. “You two can keep to the wilds. It’s not for me.”
Trundiir looked up from his boots after long moments
staring at them. He appeared to be avoiding Rogaan’s gaze before looking his fellow Tellen eye-to-eye. His face looked long with regret, and his eyes were glassy. “We figure out our future days by keeping out of the cage of the Tusaa’Ner and Seb’Ner and this Shunned. We live off the hills until they leave Anza.”
“Where?” Pax asked of Trundiir with a mix of concern and anger. “Where . . . da caves ya talked of?”
“There is plenty of water near the caves,” Trundiir offered a reason to follow his plan.
Rogaan remained quiet as a bit of anger swelled up in him at Trundiir’s back-walking words. He all but told me to see my father free when we talked. Rogaan mulled over where this talk was going. He looked around to the rest of the group. Trundiir held a sad expression but showed no sign that he was to change his last words. Aren looked impassive, as if the conversation was no more than how blue the sky is. He even looked a bit bored. Pax looked everything conflicted but unwilling to take Suhd near those who had harmed her. Suhd simply looked miserable with tears streaking her dirty cheeks as she tried to avoid Rogaan’s gaze.
“We go to the caves,” announced Trundiir. Aren gave the Tellen a half-foul look, then returned to his passive appearance. Trundiir looking squarely at Aren, “You can remain here. The rest . . . plenty of game small and bigger to keep us fed. And these rugged thorn-covered hills offer protection from larger teeth.”
Rogaan stewed over the plan as they all traded and balanced their scavenged equipment among one another. He said nothing to the rest of the group about Trundiir hinting that he should seek to rescue his father. That was not going to happen sitting in a mountain cave. Looking at the new equipment in their possession, especially the scout’s armor, an idea sparked.
Chapter 23
Insight
The sun sat just above the Spine Mountains far to the northwest by the time they stood in front of Trundiir’s cave entrance. Night would soon engulf them, causing Aren a slight shiver. For the moment, it was a spectacular view from the hilltop across the Ur River valley and to the Spine Mountains where Windsong sat guarded by great vertical timbers surrounding the town. Home. He longed for it and felt the start of regrets for his choices bringing him here. Not long ago, the Tellens set off to make the cave safe to live within, leaving him with brother and sister. Not wanting conversation, he turned his attention to the view as he recalled the group’s day trials getting here. Admittedly, the white-haired Tellen knew his wildscraft, keeping them from running into a hand and some herds of tanniyn, most the plant-eating kind, though they can be dangerous without eating you. The two meat-eating packs, one leapers and the other something he never saw before, Trundiir successfully maneuvered them, avoiding likely death. He considered their not being the interest of the packs more luck than skill as the claws seemed more focused on hunting other tanniyn than the two-legged prey Aren and the others were.
As he watched the sun sink to touch the distant mountains, he searched his mind for any sign of those troubling symbols. They’re not here. Relieved at it, he turned his thoughts to what so suddenly made them silent. Something to do with that half Tellen. I must understand this. He reviewed his memories of every encounter and interaction he had with Rogaan and also the times the half Tellen wasn’t around that the symbols fell silent. Recalling the ship and several other times, he looked up into the sky. Orange-red-highlighted clouds touched by the last rays of the sun peppered the sky. Near him, the sky was clear of high-flying leatherwings, and the low-flying featherwings were strangely quiet as well as absent from the air, except for one dark-feathered flier. A moderately sized featherwing that flew as if it owned the sky. I’ve seen him several times while on the Khaaron. Something with this creature, too.
“Aren!” Pax in a hush tried to get the Evendiir’s attention.
“What?” Aren asked, irritated at having his thinking disturbed. He looked at Pax who appeared frustrated in his unblinking stare.
“We be needin’ ta get wood ta keep a good fire burnin’ for da night,” Pax announced, then stood in an awkward silence Aren allowed. When the Evendiir didn’t respond, Pax turned in a huff, shrugging his shoulders at the air as he almost stomped off to go looking for dried wood. Joining her brother, Suhd gave Aren an unhappy glance before the two started the bending down and standing up with growing piles of wood in their arms.
Aren returned to his much-desired thinking, rereviewing his memories for any details he might have missed. So much had happened from his days in Farratum with the half Tellen and his Tellen father, Mithraam . . . He respected me. Not this brother and sister twosome now lightless of parents. Then there was that Dark Ax and the Subar, Ezerus . . . strange mix of peoples. The thought of Irzal gave Aren a shake. He knew not if it was from being desired or from the loathing he felt at being forced under threat to indulge her cravings. She’ll pay for her abuse. At least her daughter, Dajil, made no attempt at hiding her disapproval of her mother’s attentions on him. Ganzer . . . What a fool. He’ll pay for his mistreatments against me. Aren shivered at the next name in his review. Za Irzal’s aide to her aide, Lucufaar . . . Is he truly Luntanus Alum? Aren didn’t want to believe he shared presence with a Shunned. The Powers he commanded . . . manifested . . . overwhelming. He shivered again. What am I to do other than run from him?
“Approach . . .” a whisper came to Aren’s mind, causing him to freeze with a chill so strong he feared his bones would break. It’s him! Sweat poured from Aren soaking his clothes as he fell to his knees trying to breathe. He felt this presence before, but not so strongly. It has to be him! He’s searching for me. How is this possible?
Fighting the chill racking his every muscle, Aren forced words out, commanding himself, “Hide, you fool! Hide your mind!”
The presence faded away, leaving Aren on his hands and knees gasping for breath and fighting not to sick up. At the moment, he almost wished for those symbols to return to obscure the vague yet disturbing images left in his mind by the presence. They were indiscernible but provoked a power sense of danger and foreboding in him.
“What be in Kur happen ta ya?” Pax’s familiar voice broke into Aren’s thoughts.
Aren felt a pair of hands support him as he rolled into a sitting position. Looking up to a pair of female Baraan eyes, he fought confusion and a sense of not really being there. “I don’t know.”
“Look what we have,” the rough voice of the half Tellen was unmistakable. Rogaan stopped at the mouth of the cave when he saw Aren; then he just stood there with a long knife in his right hand while holding high by the tail a dead dragon in his left. A moderately sized, greenish-skinned dragon, its head just scraping the rocky ground. “What happened to you?”
“Nothing.” Aren tried to deny anything of importance happened, though the half Tellen’s skeptical look told him he failed. Aren’s body revolted against his attempt to stand, putting him back down sitting on his backside. After holding Suhd off at arm’s length, he made a second attempt, finding himself standing on shaking legs. He hurt all over.
“Do you need a hand?” Rogaan asked him.
Aren waved off Rogaan’s offer of help. I’m not about to let them think me feeble. He struggled with each step but managed to walk himself near Rogaan as Pax and Suhd returned to building up a pile of firewood just outside the cave as the last light of the day cast deep shadows all about them. Finding a rock at the front of the cave to sit on, Aren watched as Trundiir, a little farther inside, prepped shavings, sticks, and small logs before sparking a fire with his flint and steel. Just outside, on a low-hanging branch of a thorny shrub-tree, Rogaan used vines to hang the dragon by its hind feet for skinning and cleaning before it would get a good cooking. The half Tellen also hung a thick, two-stride long serpent he must have also killed in the cave. Aren suffered a powerful shiver at the sight of it. He never liked those things or the shivers it gave him looking at one.
Soon, the cave’s interior glowed with flickering flames that Trundiir then gave over ownership to Suhd
to keep fed the fire. Rogaan finished his gutting and skinning of the dragon and serpent, then turned sticks into skewers with chunks of their flesh, all the while, Trundiir dragged in a large felled tree that looked dry, then started breaking it up with stomps and leveraged branch twisting then cut by a sharped-edged chain he pulled from his pack. Soon, the Tellens and the siblings had things prepped for a night in the cave and a good meal.
Each in the group carefully selected a place around the fire to sit, first looking for things that might bite or sting before settling. The Baraan brother settled himself next to Suhd, across the fire from Aren. Smart fellow. Trundiir sat deepest into the cave with his back to the darkness. He seemed least bothered by their accommodations. Rogaan chose to sit closest to the mouth of the cave, sitting with his back against rocks allowing him a sidewise glance and view of the inner cave as well as the night sky and approach to the cave. Aren observed each one noting their mannerisms, decisions, and choices they made even concerning the smallest of things such as which fingers they used to hold the skewers of dragon and serpent meat, who they watched, and with whom and what they shared.
