The Tales of the Wanderer Volume One: A Book of Underrealm (The Underrealm Volumes 4)
Page 66
Rogan saw it in her eyes, and he motioned her back towards his tent. Kaita followed him without a word. They passed through the camp quickly, and it was all Kaita could do to ignore the stares of the other Shades. Rogan pulled back the flap of his tent, letting Kaita step through first.
He had barely followed her in before Kaita broke. Her face twisted with pain as tears etched burning lines down her face. She paced to the back of the tent and whirled, walking back up to Rogan and glaring up into his face.
“Weeks,” she said, managing to keep her voice down so that those outside could not hear her fury. “Weeks I have been searching for you. I went to every encampment I knew of, every stronghold where our siblings have gathered in strength. No one knew where you were, and that is not like you. No one knew how to send you a message, and that is not like you. You left me alone. Alone in the wilderness, with two people hungry for my death, and after you promised—”
Her voice broke, and she turned from him. Rogan laid a hand on her shoulder from behind, but she jerked away.
“Do not touch me.”
“You were never alone,” said Rogan softly. “I have heard many reports of your long journey. In Lan Shui, and then Opara, and then Kahuanga, you were with our siblings always.”
“But I had no one I cared about,” snapped Kaita. “Not after Dellek died in Lan Shui. I did not have Tagata, or you, or Father.”
Rogan’s face grew stony. Kaita knew he wished to admonish her, to tell her that she should care about all the Shades as if they were family. But he held the words back. Mayhap he knew that was not what she needed to hear.
“We made a plan together, Kaita,” he said. “And we agreed upon it in Northwood, before you set out on your long road.”
“That plan never satisfied me, and you know it.”
“And do you think I was happy with it? Do you think I enjoyed making the promises I did? I would rather have had you by my side all this long while. But Mag and Albern were more important to you, and I knew that, and so I let you go your own way. That is the nature of compromise, Kaita, of being part of a family. You and I both thought you had a hope in Northwood, and then in Kahuanga.”
Kaita’s chin trembled as she looked up at him. Yes, she had thought she had a hope. Better than a hope. How could she have foreseen that Mag would be able to defeat her lion form? How could she have predicted that Mag would find a way to survive even the trolls? They were monsters of campfire legend.
But her plans had failed her, just as her strength had failed her every time she and Mag came to blows. She could not win, no matter what she did. Dark below, she could not even find a way to kill me, and I was no warrior of legend. Even my sister Ditra had survived Kaita’s attempts to kill her.
The seed of doubt had already rooted in Kaita’s mind. Now, for the first time, it ensnared her own idea of herself, becoming a corruption that threatened to destroy the last shreds of her conviction.
Yet Kaita was not the sort of person to accept responsibility when she could instead cast blame. And so her expression went from lost to furious once more, and again she stepped towards Rogan.
“You never gave me the chance I wanted,” she hissed. “I told you from the beginning what I need, what I knew I would require in the end. Now I have spent months in useless flight, and you have lost scores of your precious siblings. They have exposed our plans in two kingdoms, all because you would not listen to me until it was too late. That is why I demanded your promise. Because I knew all along what it would come to in the end, even if you were too foolish to see it.”
She stopped suddenly, fearing she had gone too far. But no anger came into Rogan’s eyes, only a more profound sadness. And Kaita wondered if he knew all the unspoken thoughts that had flitted through her head before she finally lashed out.
“I wanted to give you a chance to change—to learn why you must change,” he said quietly. “Since before we met, you have tried to do everything alone. You wish to rely only on yourself, to have so much power that no one can challenge you. Once, you were loyal to a family, and they betrayed you. You have feared to rely on others ever since. But those you hunt—Mag, and especially Albern—they know the value of friendship, of companions on whom they can depend. They know what it is to fight as part of something greater than themselves, to serve without the desire of personal advantage.”
“I have served the Shades loyally,” said Kaita, a note of desperation in her voice.
“And you know I love you for it,” said Rogan. “And I know you love me, and some other few of our number. But I am no fool, Kaita. Your own goals have always come first. The moment you saw your opportunity, you abandoned everything to pursue what you had long desired. You would break the world to achieve your ends, and you would cast all of us aside to do it. That is why your foes defeat you, Kaita, over and over again. And you will never win until you come to your senses. You must tear down your walls—I cannot do it for you. But I can tell you that leaving yourself open to betrayal is better than living your life alone.”
Silent sobs began to wrack her body long before he finished. In one corner of his large tent was a small desk and chair, and she stumbled over to sit. Rogan knelt beside her, wrapping her shoulders in his massive, powerful hands, and he let her cry. In time she turned and buried her face in his tunic, and he held her like the sister she was to him.
But when at last her tears subsided, and her fists loosened their desperate grip on his clothes, she looked up at him. Her eyes were clear once more, and there was a hunger in them.
“I hear you, brother,” said Kaita. “I am ready to join the cause with my whole heart, and I am ready to accept the help I know I can find nowhere else. The help that our father promised.”
Rogan’s heart broke, for he knew that she had not truly understood him. And for a moment, he felt the temptation to refuse her. But he could not. He had made a promise—not only to Kaita, but to the Lord. And though he could not see as far as his father, he knew that he must keep faith with both of them if the Shades were to achieve their ends.
Even if it came at the cost of Kaita’s life.
Gently he pulled her hands from his tunic, and then he went to the foot of his bedroll. He had a small chest there, which he opened now using the silver key from his belt.
Out of the chest, he pulled a small packet wrapped in brown cloth.
Kaita’s eyes lit at once. “You have them with you now?”
“I always do,” he said. “And recently, in particular, I have ensured I had an extra store on hand, for I knew you would come to claim them. I have never forgotten you. Even when I could not see you, you must believe me: you were never out of my mind, and I never abandoned you.”
Kaita nodded, but it was an absentminded gesture, for her eyes were fixed on the stones. Again Rogan sighed, and he came over to place the packet in her hand.
“They are yours,” he said. “As I promised. But now I must demand a promise from you in turn.”
Her eyes flashed as she looked up at him. “And what is that?”
“You must use them at the right time,” said Rogan. “Do not plunge after Mag or Albern into the middle of a host of foes. You may kill them if you do, but even with the stones, you will not escape alive. Draw them out first. Use the magestones when they are alone, isolated—even from each other, if you can manage it. Strike only when you are certain of survival. Do not throw your life away trying to end theirs.”
For a moment, she hesitated, and Rogan feared she would refuse. He had no right to demand this of her, not really. Already he had sworn to give her the stones, without this condition. But as she looked up at him, Rogan saw understanding in her eyes, as well as compassion.
She stood from the chair and stepped forwards, laying her head against his chest. His thick arms wrapped around her shoulders.
“I promise,” she said, “for I know you ask out of kindness and concern. And I will make another promise: I vow to live up to the faith you have shown in me
, and that I know Father still has for me.”
“And he will until the end,” Rogan murmured. His voice was thick with grief, but he knew she would mistake it for reverence. “Now go. Tagata leads the greater part of our forces west. Join her there, and you will soon have the opportunity you seek.”
Kaita looked up at him in wonder. “Albern and Mag will be there? But I thought they were to the south, closer to the Birchwood.”
Despite the pain in his heart, he smiled down at her. “They will meet Tagata, and soon.”
She lifted a hand and placed it against his cheek. “Thank you, brother,” she whispered. “I will not fail you. And I will see you soon.”
Quickly she left the tent. In a moment, Rogan heard the flapping of wings as a raven took to the air.
At last, he let his tears come, slow and silent as they worked their way through the lines of his face. Kaita had given him her promise, for she thought it came from his love for her.
But even that promise had been mandated by the Lord.
After the first five days of training, Mag and I took stock of our situation. We were sitting apart from our squadrons, sharing a meal around a campfire. Dryleaf was with us, and Oku had curled up at my feet. The day’s rain had faded to a mere drizzle. Our breath misted in the air, dissipating quickly, and our feet squished upon the slushy ground.
“I think you should present Li for Kun’s test,” I said. “I have seen her against the others. No one can match her speed, and few even come close.”
Mag pursed her lips, but after a moment she shook her head. “I do not think so. She has the skill, but something is missing inside her. Her attention wanders as often as her gaze. Nimble feet and quick hands are all well and good, but a true warrior needs something more.”
I frowned and paused in feeding Oku a scrap. “What more do you think she needs?”
“A killer instinct,” said Mag. “She never presses the fight hard enough, even when she has an advantage. And when she is on her back foot, she all but gives up. She knows her foe is not really trying to harm her, and it makes her complacent. No matter how many times I tell her to take things more seriously, she does not muster the fire she needs to truly crush her foe.”
Oku had been waiting patiently for me to finish handing him the bit of gristle I had pulled out of my bowl. I fed it to him and scratched him behind the ears. “That is mayhap a good thing while that foe is another trainee,” I said, “but I see your point. Let us hope she can summon that instinct upon the battlefield and survive such a test. But who, then, gives us the best chance?”
Mag was silent for a moment, and then she gave a slow nod as if answering a question in her mind. “Dibu,” she said. “If anyone can secure our position with the Mystics, I think it will be him.”
Dryleaf’s bushy eyebrows shot up. “Dibu? He seems a good man, from the brief conversations we have had. Yet I thought he had not touched a blade until just under a month ago.”
“That is true,” said Mag. “Yet now he nearly matches Li’s skill. I noticed on the second day that Tou seemed to favor him, and soon I saw one reason why. I think if I focus most of my efforts on him, he will surpass Li. He certainly has better instincts. Though he is only training, he never lets up until his opponent is defeated.” A small smile crossed her lips. “Or until he is defeated. After all, I sometimes train with him personally.”
I chuckled. “There is the modesty I have missed in you.”
She scoffed. “As if such a malady has ever plagued me.”
“How have things been with you, Dryleaf?” I said. “You have been often in Taitou, and also wandering around the army’s encampment. Have you learned anything interesting?”
“Nothing I think would be especially helpful,” said Dryleaf. “I am making more progress in the town than in the camp, but there is less information there than here. My best sources are at a house of the Guild of Lovers. They are always glad to welcome a skillfully told story or a good singing voice. And of course, many within Kun’s army visit them often, including some of the Mystics. But you know lovers.”
“Not particularly,” said Mag, smirking.
I chuckled. “They are reticent with their clients’ information, is what he means,” I said. “And well they should be.”
“Indeed,” said Dryleaf. “They will tell me only harmless little items—interesting, but not especially useful, and with no names attached. Everyone knows Kun is training this army to go and fight, but no one knows where, or when, or for what purpose. He could mean to march on the capital, but I do not think so. He does not have enough troops.”
“I agree,” I said. “I still think our first guess is the best one. He means to pursue the Shades.”
“And that means he is our best chance to find Kaita,” said Mag. Her bowl was empty, and she placed it on the ground beside her as she leaned back on her hands. Oku immediately began to lick it clean. “We must win Kun’s trial. Let us hope that he does not deliberate overmuch on his choice of a fighter. If he thinks the trial will be easy, and that any of his Mystics can defeat our champion, he may carelessly choose someone Dibu can overcome.”
I worried about Kun more and more as the days went on, however. He had begun to come around our part of the camp often, looking in on us as we trained our squadrons. He never failed to be exceedingly polite, and I never saw his broad smile falter. “How goes the training?” he would ask, and I would grit my teeth and reply, “Excellent, Captain. You can see for yourself how they are improving.” And Kun would inspect the practice dummies and nod in approval.
He would even go to one or another member of my squadron and give them pointers. “Notice how Albern raises his elbow higher than you? That gives his draw more strength, and it shifts the string less when he looses the arrow. Try to match him.” Even if he did not wish us to remain in his company, he seemed determined to gain as much benefit as possible from our instruction.
Of course, he took even greater interest in Mag’s swordfighters. He would pace around the edges of her practice rings and call out advice or encouragement as the bouts went on. It made some of the soldiers quite nervous. Li, in particular, did not at all enjoy his presence, and her attention wandered even more than usual. Once, she almost dropped her sword when Kun barked at her to press her attack. I began to understand why Mag did not think Li was the best choice.
Yet Kun seemed to have the same opinion that I had held at first. As the days wore on, he focused most of his attention on Li. He observed her evident skill with the blade and the way she toyed with her opponents rather than finish them off. I hoped he thought she would be our champion and that Dibu would be a surprise.
Mag began to guide his thoughts further in that direction. Whenever Kun would come by for inspection, Mag would drill Li personally. She would push the girl to her limits, but not beyond them, making her look as though she could nearly hold her own in the fight. But the moment Kun left, Mag would return to Dibu and resume working with him instead.
Tou was a constant presence during our drilling, wandering around the rings while he brushed his fingers through his goatee. He oversaw three other squadrons, but he spent an increasing amount of time with us. He would even help our troops practice, and I came to learn that he was a powerful fighter. Though he lacked a substantial build, he was surprisingly strong—impregnable in defense and ferocious when on the attack. Mag requested him to pair up with Dibu whenever he came by, and I could see the boy’s skill begin to grow by leaps and bounds. Tou knocked him into the slushy ground every time, but Dibu lasted longer and longer against him as days went by. Each time they finished, Tou would confer with Mag and me, giving advice on how to prepare Dibu for the test. Mag was always grateful for his insight.
Though it may sound boastful, I think Tou was quite intrigued by us. I know, certainly, that we became friendly in short order. Tou tried to maintain an appropriate level of separation and distance, but no more than one would expect from one’s superior officer.
Day by day, we drove ourselves and our troops as hard as we could. But the week seemed to wear away incredibly fast.
The day of Kun’s test finally came.
Usually our squadrons were mustered for drilling before dawn. That day, Tou let us sleep until an hour after sunup. My eyes snapped open the moment I heard the calls outside my tent. I lay there for a moment, reluctant to move. So much rested on today. Dibu might win, and then we would have taken a significant step towards achieving our aims. Or we might fail, and then we would have wasted another week. We would be no better off than we were at the start: alone in Dorsea, with no idea how to find Kaita. In fact, we would be worse off, for she would have had ten extra days to flee, or hide herself, or gather more allies to her side.
I did not know what we would do if that happened. I feared to think what Mag might do. But there was nothing for it now. I sighed and roused myself, dressing quickly and stepping out of the tent.
Our squadrons were already mustering themselves, as they did every day. As I joined Mag and stood before them, I could not deny a small flush of pride at seeing them form up with precision and speed. Tou seemed pleased with our squadrons’ discipline, as well.
I heard footsteps behind us and turned. Kun came marching up, two Mystics to either side of him. I recognized one as Zhen, Kun’s nephew, the one with a heavy scar on his left cheek. It had been he who reported on our doings in Huzen.
It occurred to me that Zhen might be the one pitted against Mag’s champion. That might be good for us. Zhen seemed a capable man, certainly, but it appeared he specialized in espionage. Mayhap Dibu would have the edge against him when it came to a straight fight.