The World of Samar Box Set 3

by M. L. Hamilton

  The Sarkisian Front Guard hunted him, the Chernow Nazarien hunted him, and Kaelene felt sure any number of others wouldn’t hesitate to capture him if they had the chance. Talar was a man with a price on his head and someday, he was bound to be caught.

  What would happen to her and the baby if he was?

  And what if it wasn’t enough to set a trap for him? What if the assailants figured things the way Dryden did – that Talar’s child was a malleable version of the original, too young to defend himself, easy to mold, easy to shape into the weapon they wanted the father to be?

  She pushed aside the half-eaten supper and looked up at the small window cut into the white stone of her cell. Night was beginning to fall, the sky darkening. Still Talar hadn’t come for her. What if he’d been captured by the Front Guard? What if they’d killed him?

  A knock interrupted her frantic thoughts and her gaze whipped to the door. “Yes?”

  The door opened and Dryden stepped into the room. He eyed her food tray, then his eyes lifted to her. “Are you unwell?”

  “Have you heard from Talar?”

  His face registered disappointment before he smoothed it over. “Not yet. Do you mind if I come in?”

  Kaelene shook her head and the commander stepped into the cell, closing the door at his back. He grabbed a stool from beneath the washstand and straddled it, sitting so close to her, they were almost touching.

  “So, can I assume you’ve made up your mind?” he asked.

  “No, I haven’t. I don’t know what to do. It’s wrong not to tell Talar I’m pregnant. He deserves to know about his child. Besides, I’m not sure I can keep it from him.”

  Dryden gave a weary sigh. “So you’ll risk the child’s life by spending your pregnancy fleeing from place to place, always being a target of one sort or another?” He held out his empty hands. “Maybe that works at first, Kaelene, but what happens as the child ages? Will you still make him roam the entire region without a home? Without stability?”

  Kaelene didn’t know how to answer that. The child was too new a thought to have considered what would happen years from now. It still didn’t mitigate the fact that Talar deserved to know.

  “Talar Eldralin is a hunted man. He never remains in one place long. His life is filled with peril. Is that the sort of life you’d provide your child?”

  “It’s wrong not to tell him.”

  Dryden’s eyes hardened. “We’re Nazarien, Kaelene. Nazarien fathers have little to do with their children beyond conception. How is this any different? You’re simply following our faith.”

  Kaelene hugged her arms around herself. She just didn’t know. Her head throbbed with fatigue and she couldn’t think clearly.

  Dryden gave her a lift of his chin. “You need rest. Things will be more clear in the morning.” He rose and backed to the door. “If you stay here with us, I can promise you a life with no running.” Then he was gone.

  Kaelene lay down on the bed, pillowing her head with her hand. Her thoughts tumbled over one another, but soon she drifted to sleep. She wasn’t sure how long she slept before she felt a presence looming over her, someone shaking her shoulder.

  She woke, recognizing his scent, his touch. She launched herself into his arms, clinging to him. He held her in return.

  “It’s okay, I’m here. I’m sorry it took me so long to find you,” he whispered in her ear.

  She opened her eyes and peered over his shoulder. Shandar and Dryden stood in the doorway, the light from the hall lantern casting them in back glow.

  “A man named Deck Prestar took me to the Front Guard’s headquarters and questioned me about where you were. I refused to tell them anything, so he let me go, but it was a trick…”

  Talar cupped her cheek. “I know, I’m sorry.” He kissed her forehead. “I’m so sorry they did that to you. They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

  “No.” But they’d threatened to. She clasped his hands in her own. “What now? What are we going to do?”

  “I found someone to sail us out of Kazden,” he told her, taking a seat on the bed beside her.

  “Sail?”

  “Yes, won’t that be an adventure!” His blind eyes glowed in the darkness.

  Kaelene could see Dryden’s smug look from the doorway.

  “Then where?”

  “Who knows?” Talar shrugged. “But don’t worry, Kaelene. I promise I’ll keep you safe. You don’t have to worry about anything now. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  But she did worry. She had a child now, a child who deserved a stable life, a life filled with security and safety and reason. A life filled with dependability. Talar couldn’t give her that and much as she loved him, she knew she couldn’t go with him.

  “Will we ever have a home?”

  His brow furrowed. “What?”

  “A place to call our own.”

  “Kaelene?”

  “I want a place of my own, Talar. I want a home. Where can we find that?”

  He leaned away from her, his features showing his confusion. “This is my life, Kaelene. I don’t stay in one place long. I can’t. They’ll come after me again – if it isn’t the Sarkisian guard, it’ll be the Nazarien. I can’t have a home.”

  Tears filled her eyes and spilled over. She loved him, she really did, but this was too much to ask, especially now.

  “Don’t you ever want to stop running?”

  He released her hands. “It’s not a matter of wanting. It’s a matter of what is. I don’t have a choice.”

  The tears fell faster now, but she knew what she had to do, and she realized she’d already made the decision the moment Mistress Alloway told her she was pregnant. The baby was the only sure thing in her life and she had to protect it with everything she had.

  She reached out and clasped his hands. “But I do, Talar. I have a choice.”

  And so she made it.

  CHAPTER 13

  It was the hardest day of marching the slaves had been through. If they’d been fed decently and if they weren’t suffering the debilitating effects of dehydration, and more importantly, if they weren’t so bone weary, they might have made a better show of it for they were terrified beyond reason.

  Whenever a slave fell, she was dragged in the traces until she either rose again or slowed the train down too much. Then if she was unable to rise, she was cut from the line and left in the blistering sun while the train moved farther and farther out of sight. It was a cruel fate, but Aiden was beginning to think that perhaps it wasn’t any more cruel than what they were facing.

  Only his sheer strength and indomitable will kept Le going. He fixed a hand under Le’s elbow and propelled him forward, catching him when he stumbled. If Le was cut from the traces, there was little hope that Aiden could save him. Aiden had been told he himself was a doomed man and he didn’t doubt it. He just wondered when the deed would be done.

  With Kalas of Sarkisian breathing down the slavers’ backs, Aiden had a sickening suspicion it might not be too much longer. Surely Duard would never chance having this band caught with his auspicious baggage still in tact.

  Although Aiden didn’t understand anything about Duard’s reasoning, nor had he since this nightmare began. Perhaps if he’d had even a faint hint, he would have been able to effect an escape earlier than this.

  Why did the slavers beat their captives? Why did they starve them, deprive them of water and sleep, chill them by night and roast them by day? Why were they driven endlessly over the same terrain until their feet bled and their bodies were so broken as to be completely useless? Especially when the object was to sell them to the highest bidder.

  It was a poor way to go about conducting business, Aiden thought ironically. As King of Dorland, he didn’t even treat the cattle they ate a fraction as badly. How could Duard and his slavers expect to gain anything by abusing the product they were trying to peddle?

  Naia, Eldon protect her, was still marching well. She’d only stumbled once and Aiden had
kept her righted, but he had to admit he was getting tired himself and didn’t know how much further he could go.

  They were marched until well past midnight, then told to lie down where they stopped and say nothing. They were given a few sips of water, no food. Aiden pulled Naia into his arms as he did every night, felt Le curl up behind him, then he was asleep. Never before had he given way so quickly or easily, but he could do nothing to halt it tonight.

  They were awaken before dawn with the maddening lash of the whip. It was nearly impossible for Aiden to get Naia and himself to their feet, and Le didn’t even make the attempt. Aiden wasn’t ready to give up yet, so he bent and hauled the boy upright, supporting his sagging body until Le’s legs would hold him again.

  Aiden wanted to weep with weariness. He could only imagine what the others must be feeling. When he looked Naia over, he didn’t even get the usual half-smile he expected, but she did manage to lift her head and meet his stare.

  Aiden felt sure they hadn’t been permitted more than three or four hours of sleep. How they were expected to march the rest of the way to Duard’s stronghold escaped Aiden, but the slavers didn’t seem to care. Four of the slaves wouldn’t be making the attempt. They’d died during the brief rest and were cut from the traces, their bodies left where they lay.

  Catching Naia by the shoulders, he forced her to look away. He didn’t like the haunted look that entered her eyes whenever she saw this final act of cruelty. He didn’t like the feeling that each death chipped away at her determination and faith in escape.

  ‘Today. We go. Escape. I promise.’ Even as he made the hand signs, he cringed. How could he make such a claim? Still, he had to offer her something to bolster her courage and will. He had to make sure she kept fighting, she and Le, for without them there was nothing left for Aiden to hold onto.

  Yet as the hellish march continued, Aiden knew they’d never make it. It had become necessary for him to think each step, deliberately placing one foot before the other. Le wasn’t even doing that much anymore, but was stumbling forward, propelled by gravity alone. If they stopped, he would fall and Aiden knew he’d never rise again. Aiden also knew that he couldn’t lift him anymore.

  And the worst part was that Aiden didn’t care anymore. He didn’t care what happened to him and he didn’t care what happened to anyone else. He wanted it to end. Death was preferable to this torture – death was at least a sort of freedom.

  Naia was the one who finally drew Aiden out of his self-inflicted lethargy. As the slave train came to an abrupt halt, she caught Le and prevented him from sinking to the ground, then she fixed her hand on Aiden’s elbow, pointing into the distance.

  Aiden narrowed his eyes in the dying light of the day and peered where Naia indicated. Then his heart skipped a beat. A body of water blocked their path. From where he stood, he could see the swirling of white froth and quick eddies. It was a large body of water – one that was sure to be both deep and cold.

  “Tis the Ethicon. I’m sure of it,” said Le, turning his hollow, exhausted gaze up at Aiden.

  “The Ethicon, but that means…”

  Naia made a few urgent hand motions. Aiden followed her with his eyes, but his brain was so numb from exhaustion that he couldn’t make it out. He looked to Le.

  “She knows where we are. By the westward turn of the stream and the lay of the land, she believes we’re twenty leagues or so east of Tirsbor.” Le dropped his voice when he mentioned the Nazarien outpost.

  Aiden glanced at the slavers, who were conversing in a huddled group. “This may be it,” he said, making the few hand motions he knew for Naia. “Our escape.”

  Naia’s blue eyes danced with excitement. Aiden wished he saw even a fraction of their light in Le’s green-eyed gaze, but the boy was half done in. Again Naia’s hands flew as she tried to communicate.

  “Naia thinks we’d do best to utilize the river’s pull to our advantage. Tis certain we’ll attempt a crossing.”

  Aiden nodded in agreement. “Yes, soon. I’ve a feeling Kalas is getting closer by the moment and these slavers are about to try something desperate. If only it was desperate enough to unchain us, one from the other.”

  “Aye,” said Le, glancing down on his manacles. They’d become such a part of all their lives, it was hard to imagine not dragging the things around.

  Aiden forced his strained muscles to bunch and relax, trying to prevent the possibility of a cramp at the wrong time. He knew he might need all his strength, no matter what the slavers decided to try. Come death or not, Aiden didn’t plan on spending another night in their keeping, hoping against hope that the King of Eastern Nevaisser would stop this torment. Aiden intended to escape, and he intended to take Le and Naia with him.

  Finally the slavers came to a conclusion. Just as they’d separated, going about their business, Duard reined into camp, not at all pleased to see the slaves standing about idly. He demanded Hogan’s presence and pulled him aside for a quick discussion. Hogan must have informed him of their decision, for Duard moved his horse to the perimeter of the group and watch things unfold.

  Elvert then made the rounds of the slaves. He removed their shackles and tied them with rawhide bindings into groups of four, pushing group after group forward where they were met by another slaver who led them toward the churning water.

  Aiden watched Elvert hungrily. He counted down the line, trying to figure out whether he’d be split in a group with both Naia and Le. It had to be that way. Eldon’s star, something had to go his way for a change.

  Although Aiden made the count over and over again, he didn’t let himself believe it until the giant stopped at the woman to Naia’s left. He unhooked the chain, then moved to the other side of Le and released the line there. Aiden’s eyes fixed for a brief moment on Naia and she gave him a nervous smile. Immediately they were pushed forward.

  One of the slavers fell in behind with his horse, driving them toward the water. Le stumbled, but Aiden put out his hand righting him. The slaves were huddled in groups of four on the bank, alternately staring at the fast moving water and looking at each other with huge frightened eyes. Le’s gaze lifted and Aiden saw the same terror in the boy’s face. He smiled and gave the boy a brief nod, then glanced at Naia. She wasn’t looking at him, but there was no fear in her eyes. She was determined and her determination strengthened his will.

  Then the first slaves were driven into the water on Hogan’s command. They were pulled by the current, one dragging another under the surface. The slavers screamed orders at them and the slaves remaining on the bank huddled together.

  Duard shouted at the mounted drivers and they looked between each other, then one plunged his horse into the water and rode into the middle of the current where the bound group was floundering. He reached over the animal’s side and grasped the closest slave by the back of her torn tunic, hauling her to her feet. Once she gained a foothold, the others were able to do the same.

  The slaver moved his horse slowly beside them until they made it to the opposite bank and crawled out, sprawling in the mud on their bellies, unable to move.

  Another group of slaves was then driven into the water, followed by a slaver on horseback. Although they were pushed by the current, they were able to struggle to the opposite shore.

  Aiden shuddered when they didn’t make the climb up the steep bank and slipped back into the water again. The current dragged them far downstream and he was sure they would all drown, but they finally got a foothold and hauled themselves to shore.

  As group after group were forced into the river, Aiden forgot about them, searching the stream instead. He wanted to formulate a plan, but he knew he couldn’t tell the others, that is until they were also in the water. His gaze searched upstream and down, then came to rest on Duard.

  The man was watching him, a smile touching the corners of his cold, hard mouth. He lifted his fingers and stroked at his moustache, then kicked his heels into the horse’s flanks and started toward Aiden.


  “Hogan,” he shouted. “Take His Lordship here out of the line. I think we’ll let him stay to greet the King of Eastern Nevaisser. Maybe that will put Talar Eldralin’s bastard off our scent.”

  Aiden’s throat tightened. For a moment he couldn’t move, couldn’t react.

  “Aiden,” came Le’s small frightened voice, but Aiden didn’t hear him.

  So close – after everything he’d endured, after fighting to survive when he wanted nothing more than to lay down and die, it was going to end here on the bank to freedom.

  This thought alone spurned Aiden to action. He started moving, first at a stumbling gait, then when the others came with him, into a half-run. Duard, realizing what he was attempting, started shouting at his men to stop him, but Aiden had finally gained the bank.

  The four people slid in the mud and then tumbled into the water. It was Aiden’s sheer strength that managed to right all of them again. He pulled fiercely, dragging them further into the water. Naia sputtered, trying to shake the heavy hair from her face, and Le merely allowed Aiden to drag him in his wake. The woman on Naia’s left was gasping and sobbing, begging to know what he was doing.

  Aiden’s eyes lifted to the opposite shore. Two of the slavers had ridden off the bank back into the river after him. He looked over his shoulder, noting the confusion behind him. Some of the slave groups had taken this diversion as an opportunity to bolt. The slavers were divided between pursuing Aiden and his group, and recovering those who were trying to slip away.

  “We need to make it to the middle,” he shouted above the crying of slaves and the roar of the water. “Then the current will be strong enough to take us beyond their reach.”

  His words made Le struggle to find his footing, then the boy was helping him pull their unorthodox group into the deeper water.

  “You’re trying to escape,” sputtered the woman on Naia’s left. “You’re trying to escape!” Her voice lifted in an hysterical wail.