Reshner's Royal Ranger

by Julie C. Gilbert

  “Why do farmers hate them?” Terosh asked.

  Reia chuckled and jumped another section of grass.

  “Hate is too mild a term. Wallays consume crops and soil, but the worst part is when they leave because without the cradul, the tunnel walls crumble, resulting in graveground.”

  Reia continued to lead the way through the dangerous sections.

  “You’re stepping on the thicker, darker grass,” the prince noted.

  “Exactly,” Reia confirmed.

  A web of lightning brightened the gloomy day, followed closely by a huge thunder crack. The ground trembled. Reia looked up surprised. She had almost forgotten the storm. A minute later, the first raindrops plunked down onto her head.

  Not hearing the prince’s footsteps behind her anymore, Reia paused and looked back.

  “What are you doing?” Reia shouted to be heard.

  The rain fell faster and faster, thoroughly soaking them both. The prince looked giddy. He held out his hands to catch the rain, tipping his head back and letting the rain pour down onto his face. At first, Reia didn’t understand, but then she remembered him talking about his mother’s fear of acid storms. The queen had kept him palace-bound during every storm, harmless or not. More lightning and thunder showed off, and the wind ripped at their cloaks.

  Before he could answer, Reia cocked her head and closed her eyes. Then, she stepped forward until she reached the prince’s side and listened hard. The sound of swiftly moving water reached her. There were no rivers or streams near here. Wind whipped hair against her face, but she didn’t acknowledge the discomfort.

  Another boom drowned out other sounds.

  Still listening carefully, Reia stood next to Terosh as tense as a wallay hosting korvers. Suddenly, she took off in the direction she had been looking, behind the prince and to his right, roughly in the direction they had just come from. Without hesitation, he sprinted after her.

  Casting off her cloak, Reia dropped her bags, boots, and leather belt holding her banistick and jumped over a ledge that suddenly appeared.

  No!

  Ignoring the anotechs, she swam at the two dark masses hurtling down the stream formed as the downpour collapsed the graveground. With the current propelling her, Reia reached the pair within seconds. Luckily, they had attached themselves to each other. She grabbed a handful of soggy cloth and held on tightly, fighting the current with her legs and free arm. Her efforts slowed their pace, but they were still headed downstream at unsafe speeds.

  “Reia!” Terosh shouted. “Catch!”

  Reia twisted around and searched for his voice. One of the ropes smacked the water by her left ear. Grabbing the rope, Reia silently prayed Terosh would pull them in by the time her strength disappeared.

  The rescue went well until a fossa tree careened toward Reia and her limp charges. It was a blessing that the tretling herders were unconscious, for the current and debris gave Reia plenty to worry about. The tree’s rapid approach almost made her faint. She had seconds to make a move—any move—to avoid certain death. Diving underwater, Reia twirled so that the rope wrapped around the unconscious herders. The rope cut into her hands as the current jerked her back and forth, but Reia kept twisting, entangling her arms in the rope.

  Use us!

  How?

  A tree branch clipped Reia’s left shoulder as she surfaced for breath. She angled her body to protect the herders, but the blow nearly tore her away. Her arms throbbed as the korver rope dug in. She fought for consciousness and kept enough wits to roll away from another tree.

  We can slow the current.

  Then do so! Reia snapped.

  Can’t. Need direction.

  Reia imagined the flood slowing and strength pouring into her from the surrounding water. With massive effort, she broke the surface, dragging the herders with her. More debris came at them, but the pace seemed slower. Reia could see where she needed to be moments before the need arose. Doing this saved her some worry and pain. Still, it took several awful minutes of tree dodging before Terosh pulled them ashore.

  Once finally safe, Reia closed her eyes and rested.

  TEROSH CROUCHED BY Reia and the two young herders, scarcely daring to check their vital signs. His hands burned. The anotechs had shielded and strengthened them while he pulled on the rope, but now that the crisis was over, the pain returned ten-fold.

  Lightning, thunder, and thoughts of his pain faded as rain wash mud and debris off Reia. A leaf clung tenaciously to her forehead just above her left eye. Terosh removed the leaf and traced the side of her face. Gently, he wiped mud from her face with a clean section of his cloak.

  Reia remained unconscious while Terosh carefully unwound the ropes holding her to the herders. The wound on her left shoulder looked ugly and leaked blood. Her eyes fluttered when he checked for a pulse. She gasped and tried to sit up, but he caught her and eased her back to the ground.

  “Easy. I don’t know how badly you’re injured,” he said.

  As suddenly as it had started, the rain ceased, leaving everything strangely calm.

  “Are they all right?” Reia shut her eyes, clearly exhausted.

  “The anotechs will tell me in a minute, but are you all right?” Terosh didn’t bother explaining that since the korver attack he had been practicing directing the anotechs. She had witnessed his clumsy efforts to move rocks and dried leaves.

  “I’ll live.” Reia didn’t sound too pleased with the idea. Several deep scratches decorated her face. The left shoulder wound still bled. The anotechs were already knitting the wounds together, but the gashes still looked painful. Both her sleeves were shredded and deep red marks crisscrossed her forearms.

  Terosh grimaced at the rope burns. He placed a hand on each of her arms and thought, Heal her wounds.

  No.

  Shock nearly knocked Terosh over. He jerked his hands back.

  “What’s wrong?” Reia asked, opening her eyes.

  Sorry, bad joke.

  You fix her wounds right now! And that scar from the korver attack, if she wants it healed.

  He received the mental impression of a shrug, but slowly, Reia’s arms looked less irritated. Terosh watched as her shoulder wound slowly closed. He didn’t know how long he sat there holding her cold right hand. He only interrupted his vigil long enough to build a fire and check on the other two. They were fine. Reia had caught most of the things flying down the river at them.

  Are all Rangers that reckless?

  Most, answered the anotechs.

  Terosh frowned. He didn’t like sharing every thought with them. That night, he learned to shut them out by creating a quiet space within his mind. They had already shown that they would accept directions from him, so he shifted thoughts into sections they could access and private areas they could not. Anotechs could be powerful allies, but sometimes, a man needed to be alone with his thoughts.

  RETSI (MAY) 21, 1538

  Same Day

  Maledek’s Safehouse, City of Azhel

  Prince Taytron Minstel gripped his kerlak pistol so hard his whole arm shook. Having traveled southeast of Rammon through the Kevil Plains, crossed the Kala River, dodged part of the Ash Mountains, and raided three different possible Maledek hideouts today, he had only rage and determination keeping him on his feet. Still, he hesitated.

  This isn’t right.

  The sweet voice within his head almost made him groan. He yearned to hear the real thing but knew he would never hear Deanna’s voice again.

  “No, Taytron,” called a different female voice. “Not this way.”

  He almost didn’t recognize Captain Kelter’s voice without its usual bluster. Tate blinked. Tears blurred the ragged figure at his feet. The man propped himself up on his left elbow and used his right hand to probe a swelling knot on the side of his head. The chase through the klipper factory to this dirty, forgotten corner and the ensuing fistfight had exhausted both of them.

  “He planned it. He executed it. He murdered Deanna.
” Taytron’s accusations flew out like bursts of gunfire.

  “He may have carried out the murder, but he is not Maledek,” said Captain Kelter.

  Tate’s head whipped toward her, but his pistol remained on target.

  “How do you know?”

  “Can you not feel it?” the captain challenged.

  She is right.

  Tate swung his eyes back to the man. He didn’t want to listen to the anotechs or face the Melian Maiden captain. She reminded him too much of his mother both in appearance and demeanor. Besides, he couldn’t feel anything. He was done feeling. Feeling became synonymous with pain these days.

  “Look at me,” she ordered softly.

  He did so, and his resolve crumbled under Captain Kelter’s even gaze. Her stiff posture and sad expression said she would do anything for him but simultaneously begged him to listen.

  “Do not do this.”

  Tate’s finger tightened around the trigger. The slightest twitch would release a red bolt into the man’s face. The muscles in Tate’s right arm trembled, despite the extra support of his left hand.

  No story is what it seems. Reach out with us. We will learn the truth.

  Tate jerked his arm up to prevent accidentally shooting the man.

  “Will you let me inside your mind to verify your story?”

  “I don’t have a choice,” the man replied, “but I’d rather you not.” His expression flickered with relief and worry before settling on defeat.

  “Why not?” Taytron asked. “Don’t you want to live?”

  “If I’m right, he’s been ordered to die,” Captain Kelter answered. Her voice rumbled with rage.

  “I have a family, too,” the man whispered. He struggled to sit up and leaned back against the wall. “If you’re going to crawl around my mind, you might as well be prepared for what you find. I am not guilty of the crime you think I am, but I am guilty of another.”

  As Tate touched the man’s mind a name and a series of images slipped into his brain.

  Niktrod Keldor.

  “It’s true!” The man’s voice shook.

  Feeling sick, Taytron forced himself to watch dozens of scenes. He paused on certain ones. He saw Deanna’s broken body but felt only the curiosity of a stranger. He saw a shadowy figure demanding Keldor settle an old debt. Terror gripped him. The man would not hesitate to kill Keldor’s wife and son or even his young grandson. They were faces and names that meant little to Tate, but his heart seized with Keldor’s fear. He wondered who the shadowy figure could be and why he hadn’t heard whispers of him before now.

  Could this be the true Maledek?

  Tate’s heart nearly stopped when his mind locked upon a scene he remembered very well: his mother’s death. The perspective wasn’t right. The pristine place settings and excited banquet chatter were perfect, but this time, the small vial of comaladon mixed with gully fish poison rested in his hands. A deft hand flick and the deed was done. His eyes locked upon the smiling queen before turning and walking away. As the first alarmed scream reached his ears, Taytron wrenched his mind free of Keldor’s.

  Both men panted but said nothing. Tate released his grip on the man’s head and let his arms fall to his sides.

  “Do what you will,” Keldor rasped. His voice sounded like wind over dry leaves.

  Tate stumbled to his feet and ran from the room. He had to escape. He didn’t trust himself not to kill the man. The man deserved it to be sure, but justice was not his to dispense. That honor belonged to his father.

  Chapter 20:

  Great Storm

  RETSI (MAY) 25, 1538

  Eighty-four days into Prince Terosh’s Kireshana journey

  Governor Lord’s Estate, City of Resh

  Located beyond the northwest edge of the Riden Mountains and right along the Kireshana path, the city of Resh was a popular stop. As such, Governor Lord Darmon Zelene had much practice being hospitable. Few people ever defied him. Everything about him demanded respect. His two-and-a-half-meter height alone required everybody to look up at him. Had he been born on Kalast, he might have been hailed as an avatar of Gedroak, god of giants. People on Reshner and Kalast rarely sprout over two meters. The simple fact that Darmon came from Celiost made his height less impressive. How he won the favor of Reshner’s Prince Teorn Minstel is a separate tale, but today, the one person who could stand up to him did so.

  Akia Zelene, the twenty-year-old daughter of Resh’s governor, struggled to hold her father’s gaze. For her part, she rarely needed to defy him. The man positively caved every time she asked for anything. Having learned contentedness from her mother, she asked for few things. Akia had inherited more than Eadria Zelene’s short stature, blue-gray eyes, black hair, and cheery disposition. In truth, Lady Zelene was rather plain-looking, a fact few noblewomen failed to comment on, but she wore her name, which means “much fire in her,” very well.

  Father and daughter’s discussion had already traveled circles for over fifteen minutes by the time he slammed his right hand down onto his desk like a judge’s gavel.

  “You will not put yourself in that kind of danger!”

  “It is no more danger than any of the relief workers will face, Father,” Akia said, speaking as a camrood herder would to one of the easily spooked beasts.

  Governor Zelene’s comm beeped three times before announcing, “My Lord, Prince Terosh Minstel has arrived with a Ranger. Shall I send them in?”

  Akia’s ears perked up at the mention of a Ranger, and she slipped deep into her own thoughts, missing her father’s response. Rangers knew everything about healing and fighting. Akia could care less about their fighting abilities, but her trip to Ritand would benefit if she could speak with the Ranger about healing. For that matter, her chances of going would improve with the prince’s help.

  “May I stay, Papa?” she asked.

  The twinkle in the governor’s brown eyes offset his curt nod.

  A long minute later, Akia got her first glimpse of Prince Terosh Minstel. For once the chatterboxes that passed for noblewomen around Resh hadn’t exaggerated. The prince’s black hair was given life by miniature waves frozen in time. His crystal blue eyes were simultaneously icy and heated, alive with intensity. He accepted her father’s commanding presence with practiced ease.

  It took Akia several seconds to pry her gaze away. She missed the beginning of her father’s welcome speech and ignored the rest, choosing to study the Ranger instead. The girl was probably two or three years her junior. Her controlled expression revealed little, but her green eyes methodically took in the room. She possessed a natural beauty most women spent fortunes trying to attain. A pang of envy shot through Akia, but she wrestled her attention back to the conversation.

  “—ter, Lady Akia Zelene,” her father introduced with a sweeping gesture. “Lady Zelene, this is His Royal Highness Prince Terosh of House Minstel and the Honorable Ranger Reia Antellio.”

  Akia dropped into a curtsey and suppressed the urge to laugh. Her father always spoke loudly, but he rarely used such stiff speech. The prince and his Ranger guardian struck her as utterly normal. Their expressions declared a refreshing, open sense of honesty.

  “It is a rare honor to meet you, Prince Terosh, and you, Ranger,” she said, deciding to rescue her father.

  The Ranger nodded, and a faint grin twitched her lips upward.

  Prince Terosh smiled warmly with genuine relief. His posture remained regal yet lost some stiffness.

  “Thank you, Lady Zelene. We hope not to impose long upon the governor’s hospitality.”

  “Nonsense and rubbish. We’d love to have you for as long as you care to grace our humble home!” boomed Governor Zelene, finally toning down the formality. “Now, if you will excuse me, I shall tell the cook to set two more places. I’m sure my daughter would be happy to show you to quarters and keep you entertained.”

  As soon as her father had gone, an awkward silence fell. Akia wanted to ask them each a thousand things, especially
the Ranger. She was left tongue-tied.

  Will the prince help me? Will the Ranger teach me?

  REIA KNEW THEIR YOUNG hostess wanted to ask something. That much was indicated by her distracted gaze.

  “You have a lovely home, Lady Zelene. I would love to see more of it once we wash up. The Resh Grasslands are unforgivably dusty,” Reia said, trying to save everyone from the silence.

  “Of course, Honorable Ranger, forgive my manners. Allow me to show you to the guest chambers. Then, I would be happy to give you a tour of my home. There should be enough time before the evening meal.”

  “Thank you, Lady Zelene. Would you consent to call me by my familiar name? I am Reia and merely a healer apprentice. After the evening meal, we can speak more if that is agreeable to you.”

  Lady Zelene barely managed to choke out a response.

  “It would be my—Yes, of course ... Reia. That would please me very much. I ... would like to ask you some questions if you’ll permit.”

  The prince looked pleased to be ignored.

  “—ns, my Prince?” Lady Zelene inquired.

  For a split-second, Terosh looked panicked. Reia couldn’t rescue him this time if she wanted to as she too missed the lady’s question.

  “Please, call me Terosh. I have few friends and would be honored to be addressed as one by you.”

  Nice recovery, Reia silently complimented.

  “I don’t—”

  “Please, humor me,” Terosh requested, taking Lady Zelene’s right hand.

  Reia bit the inside of her cheek to hold laughter in check. The sight of Prince Terosh begging Lady Zelene to address him familiarly was wonderfully pathetic.

  “You embarrass the lady.”

  The prince turned a mock long-suffering look to Lady Zelene.

  “Rangers are impossible to please, you know.” He tucked the lady’s arm under his own and gently lead her out.