Such cravenness could only bring fate down upon such a man—and his kingdom, too. Romaine prayed to the Gods above that he would live to see the day.
Finally they moved beyond the sheer cliffs into deeper grooves in the mountainside. Pillars of stone rose around them, shielding the company from view of those below. The path also widened, allowing Lorene and Romaine to walk abreast. The normally cheerful scout wore a grim expression as they started the climb down towards the lands of Gemaho.
“You okay, lad?” Romaine grunted.
The scout flashed Romaine a glance. “That battle seemed far too bloody for a distraction,” he said after a while. “What is Queen Amina thinking, committing so many of our soldiers to an assault on Gemaho?” He gestured towards the south. “Has she forgotten the Tangata are still out there?”
Romaine said nothing for a while, though the scout was voicing the same concerns that had plagued him these last days. Finally he shook his head.
“Best not to question the scheming of monarchs,” he murmured, though he could see his words did not mean much to the soldier. After all, it was Lorene’s countrymen who were dying below.
“You really think we can find her?” the scout said after a time. “I doubt the king would be so foolish as to keep her in the fortress.”
Romaine grimaced, recalling Nguyen’s words from their meeting. “No,” he replied, eyeing the men who went ahead of them. “But I have a feeling the queen is relying on that.”
A frown touched Lorene’s forehead as he followed Romaine’s gaze. “Who are they?” he said softly, so the words would not carry to Yasin or the others. “Seems strange to send a bunch of mercenaries on a mission of such importance.”
“They’re not mercenaries,” Romaine replied. “Yasin is far too comfortable with the queen. And despite their appearance, they’re just a little too professional about all this business.”
Lorene nodded. “You’re probably right.” Then he smiled. “Ah well, least we’re not marching with a bunch of sellswords who’d turn on us the second old Nguyen offered a bigger pile of gold.”
Romaine grunted his agreement, but did not voice his own concerns. Yasin’s men might not be mercenaries, but the ease with which they’d taken to this assignment suggested they were far from regular soldiers. He suspected Yasin and the others were the people she sent when she needed something carried out in secret.
As they continued down the mountainside, Yasin slowed, allowing others to take the lead and falling into step alongside Romaine. While his sword and armour had been covered by cloth for the crossing, the crossbow was mostly wood and so hung from its usual strap across his back.
“How’s the hand, Calafe?” he asked with a grin.
Romaine gritted his teeth but ignored the not-so-subtle gibe. “As well as it’s going to get,” he replied, doing his best to keep the dislike from his voice, then quickly changing the subject. “What is your plan for infiltrating the fortress, once we leave the mountains?”
“The fortress?” the soldier said, a look of surprise crossing his face. Then he snorted. “We won’t find your Goddess lass inside those granite walls. Old Nguyen started making preparations to move her soon as he learned Amina was coming.”
Romaine nodded at the confirmation of his earlier suspicions. “Then what are we doing?”
Yasin chuckled. “All in good time, Calafe,” he replied. “Amina is more than a match for the old Gemaho bastard. We already know where they’re taking her, we just have to catch up!”
“And how will we do that?” Lorene cut in, his voice light. “Seems to me the Nguyen wouldn’t be so foolish as to send the Goddess by foot, when he’s got such a nice river on hand.”
All trace of mirth left Yasin’s face as he turned his gaze on the scout. “Do you think your queen an idiot, soldier?”
“I…” Lorene trailed off beneath Yasin’s glare, perhaps sensing what Romaine had that first night he’d met the strange warrior. The knowledge that he was staring into the eyes of a killer. Swallowing, the scout tried again. “Do you have a ship tucked away in some magic pocket we don’t know about?”
The joke fell flat in the emptiness of Yasin’s stare. Lorene clamped his mouth shut, glancing at Romaine.
“The man’s got a point,” Romaine commented.
He did not flinch as the warrior turned on him, and after a moment a smile cracked Yasin’s face.
“By the Gods, your training buddy is jumpy, Calafe!” he laughed. Beside them, Lorene frowned, but Yasin only chuckled and gestured to the way ahead. “You’ll see when we reach the ground.” With that he set off ahead once more, leaving them to trail behind the group.
Lorene watched the man go, his jaw clenched, forehead still marked by frown lines. “I’m not sure I like that man,” he remarked finally.
Romaine sighed. “I’m not sure we’re meant to, lad,” he replied. “Doesn’t matter though, so long as they help us get Cara back.”
The scout nodded, though the expression on his face suggested he wasn’t convinced. They continued after the others, winding their slow way down towards ground level.
While the most dangerous part of the crossing needed to be completed in daylight, they had climbed much of the mountainside in the night and so it was only several hours more before they neared the bottom of the gorge.
Only once was their journey interrupted, as movement in a nearby gully sent them all scattering for cover. The action sent loose rocks tumbling down the mountainside, disturbing the group of Guanaco that had been hidden in the shadows. The long-necked creatures leapt nimbly across the trail, disappearing into a nearby ravine, knocking hardly a stone out of place.
Yasin and the other soldiers cursed the creatures, but in the tradition of the Calafe, Romaine took them as a sign of good luck. Covered in heavy wool with long ears and beady eyes, the Guanaco were considered the flock of the Gods. Their presence before a long journey was meant to herald good fortune, though that had not entirely been true the last time he’d crossed paths with the creatures. That had been just hours before they’d unearthed the monsters beneath the earth, to which he’d lost his hand—and almost his life.
After that, Yasin called a stop and they waited there for the sun to finally set behind the distant peaks. With the twisting ravines falling into deep shadow, they continued for another hour until they finally reached the floor of the canyon.
There, Yasin led the way confidently across the narrow floodplains, following the gentle whispering of the Illmoor River. By then the darkness was complete, with only the faint glimmer of the emerging stars to light the way. Romaine almost tripped several times as they made their way downriver, and his irritation with Yasin grew with each passing hour.
Finally, the sound of the river changed, and he heard the tell-tale squeak of wooden boards shifting on water from ahead. His heart picked up and he strained to pierce the night, seeking out the ship he was sure must be waiting for them. By then he hardly cared how the queen might have gotten word to her informants, nor even that she apparently had enough connections in Gemaho to procure them a ride.
The ship emerged slowly from the gloom, its features mostly obscured by the darkness, though he could see the movement of sailors upon its upper deck. Lorene inhaled sharply alongside him and he flashed the scout a grin.
“Looks like they had a ship in their pocket after all.”
The scout only shook his head, and together they picked up the pace, eager to catch Yasin and his men before they decided to leave the pair of them behind. Broad sails stretched high above them, and dozens of oars poked from the gunwales, lifting Romaine’s heart. For the first time in weeks, he felt a touch of hope. His gaze was drawn to the east, to that distant, unknown land of Gemaho. Somewhere out there, Cara was waiting for him.
I’m coming, he whispered to the universe.
15
The Soldier
Lukys passed a week in his cell—or at least a week by his best approximation. Without any h
ints from the outside, Sophia’s daily visits were his only measure of time. He said nothing during those occasions, though Sophia spoke sometimes, talking of the goings on in the city above. Lukys could do nothing to prevent the whispers from entering his mind, and so he would sit in silence, staring into the distance, determined not to acknowledge her presence.
But even Lukys’s anger could not last forever—particularly when the Tangata was his only source of light and food and water. The food was mostly fish, trout and salmon caught in the crystal waters of the surrounding rivers, along with tubers and the occasional helping of red meat. In fact, he had to admit the food was far better than anything the Flumeerens had ever fed him.
That thought ate at him during those long hours beneath the earth. What reason did he have to be loyal to humanity? Had his own kind not failed him at every turn? The Flumeerens had refused to train him, to prepare him in any way for the battles to come, had even sent him on the suicide mission that had ended in his capture. Even the Sovereigns that claimed to rule Perfugia for the good of all had betrayed him, ordering him to the frontier to die.
Yet despite Sophia’s apparent kindness, he could not submit himself to the Tangata. After all, they too were guilty of terrible deeds, of driving the Calafe from their lands. Even before the war began, they had raided the Calafe southlands. No, to give in to the Tangata would be to betray everything and everyone he had ever known. And yet…
…gave us a long chase. It might have escaped had it made the river, but its heart gave out.
Lukys blinked, pulling himself back to the present. Sophia sat across from him, lips pursed, eyes on the wall as she recounted the story of a stag the Tangata had brought down that night. Apparently she had been assigned to a hunting pack. Lukys’s attention was drawn to the wooden plate she had brought for him, where half the venison lay uneaten.
“Has Adonis returned?” he asked suddenly.
His sudden communication shocked the Tangata so much that she half leapt off the bench. Gasping, Sophia sat upright for a moment, hand on her heart. It was the first time he’d said anything since that first day in the cell.
What? came her voice to his mind.
Adonis, Lukys repeated, looking her in the eye. The Matriarch sent him to seek the Old Ones. Was he…successful?
Sophia stared at him, as though suspicious he had come up with some secret plan to escape. Finally, though, she shook her head.
No, he has not returned. The Birthing Ground is many days’ journey from here, even for a Tangata.
Lukys nodded. “Good,” he murmured, turning away for a moment. “Were you…with him, when they woke the others?”
Images flickered into his mind by way of response, memories that were not his own. He found himself looking at two giant cylinders filled with liquid, lit from below by magical lights of purest white. Within each of the cylinders, two seemingly human figures stood suspended, eyes closed, their bodies somehow sustained for centuries by the magic of the Gods.
Shuddering, Lukys tore his mind from the horror. “A simple ‘yes’ would have been sufficient,” he said softly.
Sophia nodded and rose. She began to pace the cell, moving with the graceful, balanced posture he had only ever seen amongst the Tangata. Well, the Tangata…and Cara. Jealousy touched him as he watched Sophia’s movements. He had spent weeks with Romaine training to improve his balance, to give himself a fighting chance when the Tangata came. He’d improved slightly, but Sophia moved with a natural fluidity he could only ever dream of.
I know you can’t understand it, but what Adonis does is necessary, Sophia said at last, though Lukys could still sense the fear radiating from her.
He only nodded by way of answer—it was clear that the Tangata would divulge the true reason they were seeking the Old Ones. After a moment, Sophia sat once more beside him.
So, you’re speaking again?
Lukys sighed. Sophia sat with one leg propped up on the bench, elbow leaning against her bent knee, chin in her hand. She arced an eyebrow, obviously expecting a reply.
Lukys rolled his eyes. Carefully he picked a piece of venison from his plate and began to chew. It was cold as always, but the rumbling in his stomach hardly cared. Was he speaking again? There seemed little point in his silence now. He wasn’t going anywhere regardless.
“I guess so,” he muttered finally, flashing her a glare, “but it changes nothing.”
Very well. Despite his hard words, a smile tugged at the Tangata’s lips. Though you should know, the last of your friends have now sworn to their assignments.
A chill touched Lukys and for the first time, he felt truly alone in that cell. He was the last one, the only Perfugian that still refused to accept his new place in the world. How could the others have given in so quickly? Unless Sophia was lying, trying to convince him to do the same. But there was a ring of truth to the Tangata’s words, and he shivered, unconsciously hugging his arms to his chest.
Are you okay, Lukys? Sophia whispered, concern showing on her face.
He shook his head. I’m glad you did not kill them. The words slid from his mind. It…is more than my people would have offered your kind.
A visible shudder shook Sophia and he caught a wave of revulsion from her. Yes, I saw what you showed Adonis.
Showed him? It was a moment before Lukys realized what she meant. Of course Adonis had seen images of the Tangatan captives in his mind—Lukys had known nothing of his strange skill that day in the clearing. He swallowed. I am sorry you had to see that. We…do not all support such atrocities. My own kingdom does not take Tangatan prisoners.
Perfugia…The word slipped from Sophia like a sigh. The kingdom beyond the great sea. It amazes me, the distant lands humanity has reached in the short years since The Fall.
Lukys looked down at that. They say we were founded by those who sought to flee the wars that humans once fought amongst themselves.
Sophia’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. Your kind wage war amongst yourselves?
The Tangata do not? Lukys asked. When Sophia only shook her head, he sighed. They say the first century after The Fall was terrible. What little knowledge we had of the days before was lost to the darkness. I guess I can’t blame my ancestors, for fleeing that.
A smile touched Sophia’s lips. What are they like, your people? We know little of distant Perfugia.
We are a…practical people, he replied without thinking. Our children are taken from their families at eight, to be raised in an academy.
Shock registered on Sophia’s face as she reeled back. Why would they do such a thing?
Lukys shrugged, though he was surprised at the strength of her reaction. To ensure all are given an equal opportunity in life…though it doesn’t entirely work that way in practice. The noble born are still favoured by the professors, receive better accommodations. Only a handful were so unlucky as to be chosen in our cohort of recruits.
Is it not an honour to fight for your people? Sophia asked, her head tilted to the side.
Lukys snorted. That is what we thought, until we reached the frontier, he replied. He looked at her and let out a heavy breath. Myself and the others here with me were chosen because our leaders judged us failures. We served no purpose in their perfect society, so we were sent here, untrained, to fulfil their quota of soldiers on the frontline.
That is…terrible. Sophia seemed at a loss for words.
As I said, we are a practical people.
Sophia looked away. The Tangata are also practical. There was a time when we too sent away our weakest, to preserve the strength of our species. It did not work.
Lukys swallowed. Maybe my people could learn from the Tangata.
He was surprised by the smile that lit up Sophia’s face. Perhaps one day, was all she said, then: You are getting better at Speaking.
What? Lukys started as he suddenly realised they’d conducted the entire conversation in their minds. His cheeks warmed. I guess I am.
Silence fell for a
while then, and Lukys found his mind turning to his friends once more. Had they truly abandoned their loyalty to humanity so easily? Or had they simply realised their loyalty had been misplaced? He wished he could speak with them. Maybe then he would understand.
Sophia, he said after a time. Is…possessing a slave truly so important to your people?
Sophia winced. I…wish you would not use that term. As I said, we do not force your people into assignments. Neither do we treat them poorly. Your friends are happy with their new lives.
I wish I could believe you, Lukys sighed.
He flinched as Sophia stood suddenly, lifting an arm to defend himself, but the Tangata only stood there, eyes shining in the light of the lantern.
Maybe I can show you.
Lukys frowned. I thought you said I could not leave…
I will tell the Matriarch you have sworn yourself to me.
You would…lie to your leader? Lukys asked, regarding Sophia with a frown.
Yes…Sophia hesitated. But…this would require you to trust me.
Lukys might have laughed. Trust one of the Tangata? And yet…the prospect of leaving his cage, of seeing daylight again, was tempting. Could he so easily dismiss a lifetime of mistrust for her kind?
His eyes were drawn again to his plate. He had almost finished the venison now, and the tubers had vanished as their conversation went on. There was a warm, satisfied feeling in his stomach. He had only felt such contentment once in Fogmore, when Romaine had insisted they eat with him in the main soldier’s mess hall. Every other night, the gruel they’d been given might as well have been river water for all the nutrition it had held.
“I trust you.” He spoke the words before he could change his mind.
And Sophia smiled.
16
The Fugitive
“I don’t understand why you’re doing this,” Cara hissed as Erika settled down alongside her.
The Archivist let out a sigh. The sun was just beginning to lift above the endless plateau to the east and the sailors were preparing the ship to sail. They had anchored for the night in a broader section of river where the currents were sluggish, but everyone was eager to depart, the memory of screaming soldiers and clashing of weapons still fresh in their minds.
Wrath of the Forgotten: Descendants of the Fall Book II Page 12
