Whisper of Blood

Home > Other > Whisper of Blood > Page 46
Whisper of Blood Page 46

by James Dale


  "Sometimes," he admitted, remembering the way she had looked the morning of his trial. "But she's also like you. Not pampered and fragile, but strong and bold. And stubborn. Why?"

  "I want to know what kind of competition I'm up against." she replied, grinning faintly.

  "Jesus," Jack whispered. Women would be the death of him. He stood and retrieved her bearskin coat, handing it to her. "Come on, I'll give you a ride back to the village."

  Teala pretended modesty by turning away from him to don the cloak. Jack shook his head in exasperation, and remounted Eaudreuil. He stuck a hand out to her. She placed one foot in the stirrup, giving him a tempting glimpse of a long, supple leg, and smiled in triumph when he quickly looked away as she swung up behind him.

  "Around my waist please," Jack insisted sternly.

  "Yes m'Lord," Teala laughed, removing her hands from where she had placed them. "Anything you wish," The young woman sighed with contentment and snuggled against his back.

  "Let's go," Jack muttered, flicking Eaudreuil's reigns.

  "Yes m'Lord," the Val'anna snorted with amusement. "Anything you wish."

  The pair drew a sizable crowd as they road into the village. Teala had been seen riding out earlier and when her pony had returned without her, many of the people had begun to grow concerned. Some of the men were even now gathering to begin a search for the young woman. Teala tightened her grip on Braedan's waist when she saw the villagers congregating at the edge of town and he just knew she was smiling broadly behind him, enjoying the curious looks on many of the faces their arrival together produced.

  "Her pony was spooked by a snake and bolted," Jack said lamely, using the story Teala had tried on him. The result was much the same. Several of the men grinned and flashed him approving winks. He sighed and Eaudreuil started moving again.

  In front of Tereil's home, Tarsus stood watching them from the doorway. Braedan dismounted and Teala slid off Eaudreuil's back and into his arms. She stole a quick kiss before he could put her down, then ran off laughing into the village. He turned to find his friend grinning broadly.

  "It's not what you think," he growled, moving passed the Amarian and into Tereil's house.

  "What might I be thinking?" Tarsus chuckled, following him. "That you were up in the hills having a bit of fun while I was busy preparing for our trip tomorrow?"

  Braedan went straight to the kitchen and began rummaging through the cabinets. He pulled out two mugs and set them on the table, then found a jug of Tereil's ale and filled the glasses. "Nothing happened."

  "Of course not," Tarsus grinned. "Teala rides out by herself fully clothed, and an hour later her pony mysteriously returns without her, a bundle of clothes neatly tied to its saddle. Later she shows up clinging to your back and wearing nothing but a bearskin cloak and a smile. What could possibly have happened?"

  "I've decided I'm going to Brythond after the tournament is over," Jack announced, changing the subject.

  Tarsus sat down and took a drink of his ale. "Tereil said this might be coming." he sighed. "I'd hoped he was mistaken. You want to get a look at that book of Aaracus' don't you?"

  Braedan nodded. "I've got to. We've only managed to unravel half of what I saw during the Elohara and that's not enough. Not if I'm going to stand before the Kings of the Whesguard next spring and claim to be Ljmarn Bra'Adan’s heir."

  "I suppose there is nothing I can say to change your mind?"

  "Nothing."

  "Well," the Amarian shrugged. "If I can't persuade you to winter here, I guess I'll just have to go with you."

  "Go with me?" Jack asked. "I thought you'd be busy training your new Galekindar. I still want them ready for the Haelfest this spring."

  "Tereil can see to that," Tarsus replied. "He's always been more of the commanding general type than me. And no offense intended m'Lord, but you can't go off to Brythond by yourself, you're not ready yet to strike out on your own."

  "I'm not huh?" Jack grinned.

  "Well...no. High King or not, you're still a stranger here. There are many things yet for you to learn about Aralon."

  "Like what?"

  "Like the way to Brythond to start," the Amarian replied.

  "I can read a map," Jack quipped.

  "You'll need to know more than just that!" Tarsus argued. "There's...well...there's..."

  "Take it easy," Jack smiled. "I wouldn't dream of going anywhere without you. I just thought you'd be needed here. Since you're the king and all, I thought you'd be planning the rebuilding of Tanaevar."

  "Ha!" Tarsus snorted. "We both know that isn't going to happen until you have Yhswyndyr and the dark King is finished once and for all. Tereil can handle everything around here until then, just as he has for the last twenty years. In fact, I'm sure he wishes I'd just bed some woman, sire a son, and then quietly disappear so he could have another chance at raising the kind of king he wants for Amar. I'll wager that's what he had planned for Teala until her eyes fell on you. Besides," the Amarian finished, smiling broadly. "Thongril promised us some hospitality. If you don't want to spend the entire winter attending boring dances with only nose-in-the-air gentry for company, you'll need me around to show you some of the more interesting night life."

  "I thought you might have an ulterior motive," Jack laughed. "So, it's settled, you select the Galekindar then we're off to Brythond?"

  "We'll leave directly from Tanaevar if you wish," Tarsus nodded.

  Braedan raised his mug and smiled. "To the speedy selection of the Galekindar then."

  "To the Galekindar," the Amarian echoed, and the two men drained their glasses.

  The next morning at daybreak, unmindful of dark skies that threatened rain, the journey to the ruins of Tanaevar began. Tereil Annen took the lead, mounted on a stout Amarian pony, and beside him on Val'anna stallions rode his grandson Tarsus Aernin, Amar's uncrowned king and Jack Braedan, last descendant of Ljmarn Bra'Adan and heir to the Highsword Yhswyndyr. Behind those three followed nearly every man, woman and child of the village. Only a few had been left behind to care for the tender young or old and feeble who could not make the journey, and those stayed reluctantly and with heavy hearts. Of those that followed, some were mounted, but most were forced to walk, for the few horses, ponies and oxen that accompanied them were needed to pull the wagons and carts laden with the supplies necessary to sustain them for the next three to four weeks away from their homes.

  They did not travel far that first day, but it wasn't because the majority of the villagers were on foot. The Amarian's were a hearty people, as rugged as the hills that bred them, and they did not tire easily or shrink from a difficult task. It was simply the lack of well-maintained roads through the treacherous landscape that slowed them. They urged and cajoled and threatened the ponies and oxen pulling their wagons and carts, trying to increase their speed, but navigating the seldom used, barely recognizable pathways was a tedious undertaking. Considering the condition of the roads, it was amazing they moved as swiftly as they did. The paths they traveled had been ancient long before any of them were even born, and hadn't witnessed such traffic in over eight hundred years.

  Not since the burning of Tanaevar.

  The column stopped late that afternoon about an hour before sunset and hastily made camp. Children were sent to gather fire wood while the women began to prepare the evening meal and the men unloaded the animal hide tents. Before darkness settled in, everything was finished. All of the tents had been erected, the Amarians somehow finding sufficient level ground in the rugged hills to accommodate them. Three separate cook fires were soon blazing, each with an enormous iron pot suspended from a sturdy spit, filled with bubbling stew.

  After Braedan unsaddled Eaudreuil and saw to his needs, he went to eat at the cook fire where Tarsus was seated. The excited villagers quickly dropped everything when he appeared, obsequious in their determination to ensure he was comfortable and had enough to eat and drink. They hovered over him like mother hens until he'd finished one
bowl, then brought him another, all the while asking if he wanted another skin to sit on, and how was the stew, and was there anything else they could get him? Tarsus finally had to shoo them away, and they reluctantly returned to their own meals.

  "I don't know how much more of this I can stand," Jack lamented quietly.

  "What, the stew?" Tarsus asked, around a mouthful.

  "Not the stew you ass. All this bowing and kneeling and can I get you this m'Lord? Would you like me to do that for you Your Highness?" Braedan shuddered. "I mean, your people have been through so much in the last eight hundred years. It doesn't become them to act this way. I certainly don't deserve it. I feel like some kind of freeloader.”

  "This is only the beginning my friend," the Amarian said consolingly. "It will get worse later on."

  "How can it get any worse?" he asked with a sigh. "It's already disgusting."

  "Be glad we Amarians are amateurs at this," Tarsus grinned. "We haven't had much practice at servitude. Wait until you get to Immer. It's what the damned city was designed for. To attend to every need of the High King is their singular existence. When they find out who you really are, you'll probably not even be allowed to wipe your own arse."

  "You've got to be kidding?"

  "I'm afraid not."

  "Is it too late to rethink this?" Jack asked with a wry smile.

  "Much too late," Tarsus laughed. "But I'll speak to Tereil. See if he can get everyone to restrain themselves a bit if it makes you this uncomfortable. How's that?"

  "I suppose it will have to do."

  "Good. Now finish your stew m'Lord, then I'll wash your face and tuck you into bed," the Amarian grinned.

  "Judas Bloody Hell!" Jack cried, throwing up his hands in defeat and falling back onto the grass. Tarsus picked up his empty bowl and walked away, shaking with laughter.

  The next morning the camp rose just before daybreak, ate a quick breakfast of oatmeal porridge and smoked meat, then packed up their tents and wagons and were once again on their way. The clouds that had been dark and threatening rain since dawn the preceding day broke up into thin, wispy sheets and the sun, giant and yellow, began to warm the chill, autumn air. In a few hours the rugged hills gave way to the grassy, rolling terrain that was the large, horseshoe shaped plain surrounded by the Amarian Hills.

  Here the travelers turned east and skirted along the southern edge of the plains. Heartened by the appearance of the sun and the much gentler landscape, their pace almost doubled. When they stopped again that evening, the Amarians had traveled almost a third of the way to the ruins of Tanaevar. Once again, the men quickly erected the animal hide tents and the women began to prepare their dinner meal.

  Braedan reluctantly joined the same group he had eaten with the night before, dreading the embarrassing attention he knew was forthcoming. Apparently however, Tereil had spoken to them sometime during the day and informed them of his feelings, for although he still felt they treated him with more respect than he deserved, they were much more subdued than the day before. When he'd finished, Jack thanked each of the cooks for the delicious meal, though it was once again stew, it had again been hardy and not without flavor, then leaving the villagers nearly bursting with pride, went to look for Tarsus.

  He found the Amarian about fifty yards outside the circle of the encampment, watching the moon climb slowly above the horizon. It was full tonight, unbelievably bright, and looked almost close enough to reach out and touch. Tarsus turned and smiled as Braedan approached but said nothing, and the two men stood gazing up in silence as darkness fell and the minutes passed.

  Although Braedan had done this same thing many times since he'd watched that first moon rise in the Ailsantain, it always fascinated him. The moon looked so deceptively familiar, hanging there in the night sky with its similar shape and size, but when he looked closer that totally different moonscape of unrecognizable mountain ranges, canyons and valleys inevitably threw him slightly off balance. With each passing day, it became harder and harder for Jack to remember this wasn't the world where he'd been born, but each night there was this one simple reminder of where he was and what had happened to him, and his wonder was always renewed.

  "What is on your mind my friend?" Tarsus asked, finally breaking the silence.

  "Nothing serious for a change," Braedan smiled. "I was just wondering how much longer it's going to take us to reach Tanaevar."

  "Another two or three days," the Amarian replied. "Why?"

  Braedan shrugged and took a seat on the grass. "I don't know. Eaudreuil is getting restless. All this open space with so much room to run. He doesn't like being forced to wait on the wagons. Thinks it's beneath him. Can you imagine that?"

  "I can indeed," Tarsus chuckled, taking a seat beside him. He was painfully acquainted with the Val'anna's temperament. "Even without your gift, I have also felt Gilasha's eagerness to stretch his legs."

  "Do you think it would be okay if we rode ahead?" Braedan asked.

  "You can do whatever you like Jack," Tarsus smiled. "When are you going to realize that?"

  "What do you say then?” asked Jack. “It will give them both a chance to stretch their legs. Maybe beat the crowds, look around a bit without anyone there to bother us."

  "Hmmm," the Amarian mused. "It would give you a chance see the ruins while they are empty. It will give you a better feel for what happened there. If we leave at first light and ride hard without stopping, we should be able to reach Tanaevar before nightfall. That would give us all the next day to ourselves. How does that sound?"

  "Great," Jack nodded. "But I'd like to leave before breakfast it that's okay. Before everyone else is awake."

  "I'll have to tell Tereil our plans so he won't be worried. The old man is used to me running off," Tarsus grinned, "but if he woke up tomorrow and found you gone, he'd probably have a heart attack."

  "Okay," Jack agreed. He stood and rubbed goose bumps from his arms. The temperature was beginning to drop very rapidly now that the sun was down. Out here on the open plains, with nothing to break the wind, it seemed even cooler. The thick bearskin Tereil had given him for the trip was certainly going to come in handy tonight. "I don't think winter is too far away," he remarked.

  "No," the Amarian agreed. "It is early this year, but not uncommon. It is no doubt getting even colder in the north. Even if we leave right after the tournament, it’s likely we'll see snow before we reach Brythond."

  "I hadn't realized it was getting that late."

  "It is very late indeed," the Tarsus sighed, and for some reason Braedan did not think he was only speaking of the season.

  "I think I'll turn in now. See you in the morning Tarsus."

  "Sleep well my friend," the Amarian replied, and turned his attention back to the moon.

  The next morning Tarsus woke Braedan early. There was a thick frost on the ground and it was cold enough Jack could well believe there might be snow before a month had passed. He reluctantly crawled from beneath his warm bearskin blanket, pulled on his cold boots and joined Tarsus for a hurried breakfast. After they'd finished, both men quickly packed their gear, saddled their mounts and quietly began to make their way out of the camp.

  Tereil was the only other person awake at the time. The old man had built a small fire and was warming his hands. He had been silently watching them since they'd risen and now that they were leaving, he motioned to the pair and they halted their horses in front of him.

  "I am sending some men with you," Tereil informed them.

  "Is something wrong grandfather?" Tarsus asked.

  "As a precaution only,” Tereil shrugged. “Tanaevar is close to the Bergaweld. The Bergaweld borders Grethor. Call it an old man’s paranoia, but I think Ljmarn’s Heir and Amar’s future should not travel so close to the enemy’s realm by themselves. The dark King still sleeps, but even so, he has already revealed he is strong enough to conjure a nightmare into flesh and send it across the void. Strong enough to have a demon waiting for Jack in the Ailsan
tain.”

  "You think we shouldn't go?" Jack asked.

  "I do not know," Tereil sighed. "Perhaps this is just a wild thought, haunting an old man in the dark of night. But if it is not?"

  "What are you saying grandfather?" asked Tarsus. "Should we hold this tournament somewhere else?"

  "No," Tereil replied. "There is no other place the new Galekindar could be chosen. But the future High King of Aralon should not go so far east unprotected."

  "Very well," Tarsus shrugged. "Who is accompanying us?”

  “I sent Uuran Kaelsonn to gather a dozen men,” Tereil replied. “He is an accomplished fighter. He spent his youth in the Dragonslayer’s Legions. He’ll pick a good crew.”

  "Then we’ll be fine," Jack assured the Regent with a smile. "We'll see you the day after tomorrow."

  Braedan and Tarsus waited on the edge of the camp for Tereil’s “precaution only” escort to arrive. It was only a few moments until Kaelsonn met them with a dozen Amarians, each looking as fierce as the man who led them. Kaelsonn was perhaps a few years older than Tarsus. Not as tall or well-muscled, but he projected an aura of dangerous confidence that spoke of someone who had lived a hard, violent life. Lived it and survived. They all did.

  “Lord Bra’Adan,” he nodded. “Tarsus Aernin. Tereil Annen said you needed someone to look after you? Make sure you didn’t get lost out in the wild or stub your toes in the dark.”

  “He said he was sending some women to cook our meals and rub our feet,” Tarsus grinned.

  “That would be Eorl Tannor then,” Uuran smiled.

  “Afraid I forgot my cook pots,” one of the men growled. Eorl Tannor obviously. “Can I borrow yours Uuran?”

  “You guys are gonna be fun,” Jack grinned. “I can’t wait to watch this tournament. Ready to go for a ride Eaudreuil?” He asked the stallion, patting his broad neck.

  “I am,” the stallion replied simply, pawing the ground impatiently.

  “Don’t try and keep up with the Val’anna, Uuran,” Tarsus grinned. “Just follow our tracks. You can rub my feet when you find us in Tanaevar.”

 

‹ Prev