“Anyway, if you want to find your sister, Wolf,” said Tansy. “You have to find the Baron.”
Shandar’s gaze lifted to her. “Do you know where he is? Is he near Raimondi?”
“I’m not sure. He covers a triangle between us, Tirsbor, and Chernow. Sometimes he and his men come into Raimondi for supplies, but Eldralin himself recently went to Chernow to discuss the situation with the Nazar. Unfortunately, I heard yesterday that he left Chernow. He’s gone to Dorland.”
“Kalas has gone to Dorland?” echoed Shandar in surprise.
She nodded and leaned closer to them, dropping her voice. “The King of Dorland’s gone missing.”
Shandar frowned. “What?”
“Aiden Cerik – gone. He was abducted in the middle of the night right out of his own bed. No one knows where he is. Adison, his eldest brother, is acting King, but I’ve heard grumbles about him. He’s not well liked. That’s why Kalas Eldralin went to offer Dorland his aid. With that development, the Baron may have gone to meet up with him.”
Amaroq looked into the dark liquid of his chocolate. It seemed hopeless, futile. There was no way they would ever find his sister again.
“Don’t give up, Wolf,” said Shandar, gripping his arm.
He nodded for Shandar’s benefit, but he didn’t feel any better.
Tansy studied him. “I know you want to find her, but you shouldn’t provoke these men. They take a look at you, Wolf, and…”
Amaroq’s gaze swung up to her.
“And?”
“There are people who would pay for someone with Talar Eldralin’s blood. Kalas Eldralin’s too well guarded and his sister, Tyla, lives in Temeron. You, however, are right here, snooping around. You’ve got to stop.”
“How can I stop? She’s my sister. I have to find her.”
“Find the Baron.”
“How do I find the Baron? You’re not even sure where he is.”
Shandar leaned back in his chair, draping an arm over the back. “We find Kalas Eldralin.” He gave Amaroq a mischievous smile. “What do you say we go meet your brother, boy? I hear Dorland’s beautiful this time of year.”
* * *
Amaroq pushed a stick into the fire, watching it catch. Fire licked along the edge of the dried moss clinging to the stick, withering it to black ash. Shandar lay across from him and to his left, Nakoda snored, curled up in his bedroll.
After talking with Tansy, they hadn’t thought it a good idea to stay in Raimondi. Buying supplies and three horses, they left town, putting as much distance between them and Human civilization as they could before nightfall. Amaroq had felt the speculative looks from the townspeople, some more than others.
After they’d pitched camp, he’d agreed to take first watch. Leaving Raimondi behind had eased the constant pressure in his skull, but he could feel the anxiety of his companions and his own growing sense of despair. The world seemed too big, too vast, and his sister an infinitesimal part of it.
In all honesty, Tirsbor had been enough for him. When the press of people grew too much, he and Nakoda had taken off, disappearing into the maze and exploring the land around them. His sister, mother, and Shandar were all the people he needed. He didn’t need to know more. He didn’t need to know his father.
Not that anyone had ever kept his paternity a secret. It just hadn’t mattered.
Now it did.
That fact had been brought home by Tansy. She’d recognized him by his eyes...by the color of his eyes.
And now Shandar wanted him to go to Dorland and meet a brother who had been no more than an idea for all of his life.
“What are you thinking, Wolf?”
Amaroq lifted his gaze. “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”
“The ground’s hard.”
“No, you’re soft.”
“I’m an old man. Besides, you’re thinking so hard, I can hear it.”
Amaroq pushed at the stick, shifting his back against the rock they’d used for cover. The land outside of Raimondi was flat until you went far enough north to get into the mountains that ringed in Terra Antiguo. Such terrain left them exposed, vulnerable to attack, and Amaroq was very aware what sort of attack might come out here.
“It does you no good to deflect, Wolf,” said Shandar, lying on his side, facing the flames. Firelight danced in the hollows of his face, made the lines seem deeper, more pronounced. “I’ve spent a lot of years waiting you out. I’ve learned patience. Your father taught me that, if nothing else.”
And there it was. Since leaving Tirsbor, Talar Eldralin’s ghost had loomed between them, coloring every situation. Leaving Tirsbor had made Shandar nostalgic for the past, Amaroq realized. Traveling with him made the older man remember another time, another man, another Shandar.
“I’m not sure I want to meet Kalas Eldralin.”
“Why not?”
Amaroq shrugged. “He’s everything I’m not. He knew our father. What if he isn’t pleased to know about me?”
“He’ll be pleased.”
Amaroq chewed on his inner lip and folded his arms over his bent knees. “I’m not him, Shandar.”
“What?” Shandar sat up, his blanket falling from his shoulders. “You’re not who?”
“Talar.”
“I know that.” Shandar looked away, looked out into the night. A horse whickered, tossing its head. “I know that.”
“Are you sure?”
Shandar looked back. “Wolf, I know you’re not Talar.”
Amaroq’s gaze never wavered. “I believe you want to find Naia. I know you fear for her, but this isn’t unpleasant for you, is it? You like being on an adventure.”
Shandar didn’t answer for a long while, then he sighed. “I want to find your sister. That’s my primary goal.”
“But?”
“But, these days with you…” He held out his open hands. “What do you want me to say, Wolf? They take me back. They make me remember. I thought I hated the running and I guess I did, but there were times with your father that were…”
“Good.”
“Yeah, very good. We saw things, the two of us. We went places.” He scrubbed a hand across his chin. “Lately, I’ve been feeling old, useless. Being out here with you...well…” He shrugged.
Amaroq gave him a gentle smile. “You want to see Kalas, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I do. I remember him as a child, a bright eyed boy playing with a red ball.” He fell silent, contemplating the fire. “So many memories, Wolf. You can’t possibly understand. The young never can. All I do is walk around with ghosts nowadays.”
Amaroq wanted to change the subject. He was beginning to understand what it meant to live with ghosts. “When Deck Prestar let my mother go, you said she ran to Talar. Isn’t that what the Front Guard was hoping she’d do?”
Shandar laughed. “Exactly. And she quickly figured that out.”
“So what did she do? How did she avoid being captured again?”
Shandar settled himself more comfortably. “She went to the Kazden Cult, that’s what she did.”
* * *
Kaelene stopped running.
Her thoughts suddenly cleared and she understood.
Someone cursed her and she glanced up, realizing she’d stopped in the middle of the boardwalk. The man moved around her, giving her a glare.
The Front Guard wanted her to go to Talar. They thought she’d betray him.
She stepped out of the flow of traffic and glanced behind her, but she didn’t see any soldiers. Not that she expected she would. They wouldn’t be foolish enough to follow her in uniform. Glancing around at the shops, she located a cafe and ducked through the door. A bell tinkled, announcing a customer, but she didn’t have any money to pay and she didn’t speak the language well enough.
Sliding back along the wall at the entrance to the cafe, she watched the street. People continued to flow past, moving back and forth. She knew she wouldn’t recognize a Sarkisian soldier from the others unless
he was in uniform.
Her heart was hammering, her skin felt clammy. What was she going to do? She couldn’t go to Talar and she couldn’t go back to Mistress Alloway’s house. She didn’t want to bring trouble to either of them, but she needed help, powerful help. Help that wouldn’t be intimidated by the Front Guard.
She jumped when a young woman touched her shoulder. Turning, she placed a hand against her chest, her knees feeling weak. The young woman said something to her, her expression kind, open. Kaelene shook her head, indicating she didn’t understand her.
The young woman motioned into her cafe, where a few patrons were having a meal, but Kaelene shook her head no, her attention returning outside the window. Maybe she wasn’t being followed? Maybe they really had intended to let her go?
The young woman tapped her shoulder again and pointed at a table. Kaelene said no again, knowing that she was going to have to make a decision. What could she do? Chance going to Talar? No, she wasn’t doing that. Chance going home? Again, she couldn’t do that.
That left only one choice – a choice her mother had fought against for years. She had to go to the Nazarien.
In Kazden, that meant she had to go to the Cult. Her mother would be disappointed in her if she did. Her mother had wanted more from her, more than being a breeder, but here she was, pregnant and alone, carrying a Nazarien baby. And not just any Nazarien baby, the baby of the most famous Nazarien on the planet.
She had no choice. Her mother was gone and she had to protect this baby.
Just as she made her decision, she spotted Ozias on the other side of the street, looking into the windows of the shops. Glancing down her side of the street, she saw another man doing the same.
She turned to the young woman and pointed to Ozias, then she made a motion indicating she was afraid of him. The young woman looked out, spotting the boy. Kaelene made a hitting motion with her hand, her eyes brimming with tears. The young woman put a hand on her shoulder, soothing her, then she grabbed Kaelene’s hand and dragged her into the cafe.
She led her through the dining room and to a door at the back. The door opened on the kitchens. An older man and woman were working in the kitchen, the man at the stove, the woman chopping vegetables. The young woman said something to them and they nodded, then she led Kaelene through the kitchen and behind a partition. Rounding the partition, they came to a door and the young woman threw it open. The door led to a narrow alleyway, choked with refuse containers and filled with the smell of rotting food. Kaelene fought down her gag reflex and clasped the young woman’s hands, thanking her, then the young woman disappeared inside and Kaelene began working her way down the alley in the opposite direction from Ozias and his counterpart on the main street.
She exited the alley into a part of Kazden she hadn’t been before, close to the docks. Working men shouted at her or made whistling sounds, but she ignored them, ducking her head and walking. She hadn’t been in this part of the city before, but her mother had taught her directions, so she marked where the ocean was and then headed away from it, angling toward the part of the city where she knew the Cult made their home.
Everyone in Kazden knew where the Cult operated. They had a ten block radius above the docks, overlooking the main business section, and they patrolled it religiously. No one entered that part of the city unless they wanted to tangle with the Cult. As soon as they arrived in Kazden, Kaelene’s mother had taken her to the edge and warned her to stay away. She’d abided that edict for years, until now.
She hadn’t gone far when she got the sensation she was being followed. At first she thought it was one of the men working at the docks, but when she paused in the shadows of a warehouse and looked back, she caught the telltale black uniform and she thought she saw a panther paw.
The urge to run grew as she continued, picking up her pace. She had a stitch in her side and a blister was forming on the back of her heel, yet she didn’t slow down. She had to get beyond the boundaries of the Cult before the Front Guard overtook her. Although, some part of her knew she wasn’t their real target.
The streets grew steeper and her breath came in a gasp. The stitch had become a burning pain and she pressed her fist against it. Glancing over her shoulder, she could see the soldier now. He wasn’t even trying to stay hidden.
She wouldn’t have known she was in the Cult part of the city, except a marker on a fence caught her eye – the scythe and star of the Nazarien. She gave a sob and permitted herself a moment to rest, looking behind her.
The one soldier had been joined by another, but they didn’t dare enter this part of the city. They’d seen the marker themselves and knew what it meant.
Kaelene permitted herself a faint smile, then she jumped as she felt a presence loom over her. A huge Nazarien stood before her, a tattoo on his cheek of a falcon’s wing, his ear festooned with medallions, his short cropped white hair standing on end. His pale blue eyes speared her.
“What are you doing in this part of town, girl?” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.
Kaelene lifted her chin. “I need to see the Cult commander.”
“Why?”
She glanced at the soldiers who stood at the end of the block watching her. “I need protection from the Front Guard.”
He gave them a dismissive look. “You’re not part of us. Go on your way, girl.”
Kaelene felt her heart sink. “I’m Nazarien.”
“No, you gave that up many years ago. Do you think we don’t know who enters our city? Do you think we don’t know about those that reject the faith?”
Tears threatened, but Kaelene fought them back. “I’m Talar Eldralin’s lover.”
“He’s had many lovers. One’s no different from the other.”
She didn’t want to tell this man about the baby, but she was going to have no choice. Once she did, she knew her freedom was over, but maybe they’d get word to Talar. Maybe he’d come for her.
She paused and the weight of her situation settled on her.
Turning, she studied the Front Guard soldiers, then she looked up at the Cult member. She was trapped. She was caught between them and there was nothing she could do. Talar would always be a hunted man, and if she stayed with him, so would she. So would her baby.
All she had was the child in her belly. The only thing that mattered, the only thing that she had left was this baby. She had to protect it at all costs. No matter what. She had to know this baby was safe.
She drew a deep breath and pulled in her will. “I’m pregnant. The child’s his.”
A change came over the Cult member’s face and he took her arm. “Come with me.”
He led her up the street, leaving the soldiers behind. They walked for blocks. Kaelene was limping now, so he stopped her. “Do you need assistance?”
She shook her head. She’d come this far, she could make it the rest of the way. Misery enveloped her. What had she done? What had she given away? Would they let her keep her baby once it was born or would they take it away, spirit it off to Chernow?
Would Talar ever know about the child?
The Cult member brought her to a large home that loomed over the cliffs, the ocean battering away beneath them. The roar of it filled Kaelene’s head. She shivered in the chill breeze blowing off the breakers and followed the Cult member to the front door.
Two more Cult members guarded the door, but they didn’t speak to each other as Kaelene was brought into the house. The entrance was bare of every comfort, except for benches lined along each wall.
“What’s your name?” Kaelene asked her guide.
“It doesn’t matter,” he told her and led her down the hallway to the left. She was taken into a room with a desk, three chairs, and wooden cabinets. The window was bare, looking over the back of the house with a view of the ocean. “Wait here,” he ordered. “I’ll bring food and drink.” Then he was gone.
Kaelene wandered to the window and looked out, her heart full of misery. She fought the tears, but
some escaped. A few minutes later, her guide returned with a tray and settled it on the desk. It held bread, a stew with a greyish cast to it, and a bottle filled with water.
She faced her guide.
He marked her tears, frowning. “Are you unwell?”
“I’m scared. Will you send for Talar?”
“Not yet,” came a voice and a handsome man with jet black hair entered the room followed by the largest Nazarien Kaelene had ever seen. The massive Nazarien took a position by the door, while the dark haired one walked around the desk and settled into the chair. “You’re dismissed, Galfir.”
Her guide ducked his head and left.
“Please have a seat,” said the dark haired one. “I’m Dryden, Cult Commander. This is my second, Talmond.”
The giant inclined his head.
Kaelene eased onto the chair across from him.
“Galfir said you’ve asked for our protection?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“The Front Guard took me from my home this morning and brought me to their headquarters. They questioned me about Talar.”
“Eladra?”
“Yes.” She clasped her hands in her lap.
“Are you hungry?”
She shook her head. “Thirsty.”
He reached for the glass placed over the top of the bottle and turned it over, filling it, then he handed it across the desk to Kaelene. She took it, her hands shaking. He noticed her reaction. “Are you afraid of us?”
He was a handsome man. No where near as handsome as Talar, but striking. He too had the falcon wing tattoo and an ear brimming with medallions. His black hair was longer than usual, just touching the top of his shoulders. Still, his blue eyes did not hold the warmth of her lover, the humor, the life.
“Yes, I’m afraid.”
He nodded. “Unfortunate. Please drink.”
She took a sip, sighing as the cool liquid bathed her parched throat.
“Go on. You mentioned that the Front Guard took you in for questioning.”
“Right. They wanted to know where Talar was.”
“And you protected him?”
The World of Samar Box Set 3 Page 109
