The Rise of Aredor

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The Rise of Aredor Page 25

by Claire M Banschbach


  “Darrin, since I’m the one urging this plan, let me go in. That way if it fails, it’s my fault, and I’m the only one that gets caught,” Tristan said.

  Reluctantly, Darrin agreed. “All right, but we’ll still have a few men waiting outside for you.”

  Once decided, they began planning to make sure that nothing went awry.

  Chapter 15

  Corin wiped his blade clean as best he could in the pouring rain. Seeing the riders coming towards his small band on the road, he gave a warning whistle. The foremost rider waved his hand.

  “It’s us, Captain!” Liam called.

  “All accounted for, Liam?” Corin asked.

  “Yes, sir. None escaped.”

  The Argusians had remained ahead of the outlaws until the night before. Early that morning, they had ambushed the Argusians on the road. Corin had divided his force in half to better pursue those that had escaped. Fighting on foot, the Argusians were disadvantaged against the mounted Aredorians. None had surrendered, and so none of the marauding force was left alive.

  Corin’s men stood in the driving rain, bandaging their wounds as best they could. Corin tied off a bandage on his forearm as Karif came to perch sulkily on his shoulder while attempting to shake water from his feathers. The hawk had returned early the previous day after delivering the message. Ian brought Zephyr up for Corin as the company began to mount. They were well east of Kingscastle and almost two days’ ride from Dunham Forest. It would be a long, dangerous journey back.

  * * *

  Emeth stood on the parapet in the rain that had fallen since early morning with no sign of abating. The walls had been deserted by the sentries who were trying to stay warm and dry and only came out periodically to patrol the ramparts. He had laid aside the uniform of the Phoenix Guard and had donned the uniform of the garrison. Leaving behind his double swords, he instead buckled on a scimitar. Wrapped in a cloak, hood drawn up against the rain, he waited.

  The hour he’d given in the note was drawing near—the time the wall guard would ordinarily be changing. He sent up a silent prayer of thanks for the rain and the distaste the Calorins had for the unfamiliar weather.

  A soft whistle cut through the constant patter. He tossed a rope over the battlements in answer, watching as a dark shape slid from the trees and began to climb. As the figure reached the top, Emeth reached down and helped him over, a quick pang of disappointment striking as he realized it wasn’t Corin.

  “Up you come, mate.” He allowed his brogue to creep back through his voice. He began pulling the rope up, but the outlaw stopped him.

  “How do I know I can trust you?” he asked.

  Emeth unbuckled his vambrace and pushed his sleeve up. There was enough light from the guttering wall torches to reveal the four-pointed star of Clan Canich.

  “I’m no Calorin. I’m just looking out for a member of the Clans.” His accent grew a little stronger.

  “What’s your name? Why are you here?”

  “You can call me Emeth. That’s a long story, and we don’t have time. The guards will be coming out ontae the walls any minute. We need tae go,” Emeth said.

  “All right, let’s make it fast.”

  Emeth led him down the wall steps and across the courtyard into the keep. Once into the dungeons, they quickly overpowered the guards. Taking the keys, Emeth unlocked the cell. The young girl lay huddled on her side in the corner. She started back in fear as the outlaw ap-proached.

  “Kara, it’s only me.” He laid a hand on her forehead. She was feverish and shivering, bruises on her face visible in the dim torchlight.

  “I’m sorry, but Kadar got here yesterday.” Emeth had cursed worse than the outlaw when the general had arrived. Ismail had tried, but there was nothing he could do.

  The man took off his cloak and wrapped it around Kara. She cried out softly as he lifted her and touched the raw wounds on her back. He pressed her head against his shoulder as she huddled in his arms.

  “How are we getting out?”

  “The west gate. Let’s get going before these two wake up.” Emeth indicated the guards. He replaced the keys as they left the dungeons.

  Getting out was harder than it sounded. Guards patrolled the passages, forcing them to hide until the Calorins passed. Once outside, Emeth directed them across the courtyard, moving in and out of shadows unseen. He unbarred the gate and shoved it open enough to slide through. The outlaws were waiting on the other side. Another outlaw took Kara and carried her into the forest. Emeth handed another one of the men Kara’s weapons that he had retrieved earlier that day.

  “Wait!” Emeth said as her rescuer made to follow his band. “A few years ago, I swore service tae Lord Ismail. For what it’s worth, he didn’t want tae hurt her. Even some of the lads thought it cowardly tae torture a girl, but that’s right up Kadar’s alley.”

  “Thank you.”

  “It’s Aiden,” Emeth said.

  “Tristan.” He extended his hand.

  Emeth shook it firmly. “Give this tae the Hawk for me?” He handed a piece of paper to Tristan.

  “Sure, but one day, I want an explanation for everything.” Tristan tucked it away.

  Emeth grinned. “I’ll see you get it. Best of luck tae you, Tristan.”

  “And you, Aiden,” Tristan replied before disappearing into the rainy night. Emeth bolted the gate and returned to the keep, hurrying to change and relieve Ahmed on guard duty.

  Ahmed noticed his hair was still damp.

  “Where were you?” he asked.

  “Unlike you Calorins, I actually enjoy the rain,” Emeth said lightly.

  Ahmed nodded knowingly. “You going to be all right once they find out?”

  “Don’t worry, I can talk the legs off a table if I have to.” He’d rehearsed his story earlier that day. He’d be under automatic suspicion by being a northerner. But Kadar didn’t scare him. In fact, he was rather looking forward to the man’s face when he discovered his prisoner was missing.

  * * *

  Kieran ran to meet the outlaws as they returned. “Where is she? Is she all right?” he demanded.

  “No, lad, she’s not.” Tristan drew him aside as Darrin had Flynn carry Kara into the small cave and lay her on the blankets spread on the ledge.

  “Do you know when the Captain and Liam are coming back, sire?” Flynn ran a worried hand through his red hair. Darrin shook his head.

  “Liam’s the only one of us who really knows what he’s doing around wounds and such. She needs a proper healer, sir.”

  “Sir, if I might suggest something?” Martin said.

  “Anything.” Darrin gestured for him to continue.

  “My younger sister, Mera, if you remember, was well trained by the castle healer. She’s in Gorwydd village not too far away. I could bring her here,” Martin said.

  “How soon can you be back?” Darrin asked.

  “A few hours, sire.”

  Darrin quickly gave his assent, and Martin rode off, leading a spare horse.

  Two hours of hard riding saw him at the edge of Dunham Forest, looking down at the village in the distance.

  Riding into the village, Martin left the horses standing and knocked on a door. A few minutes later, the door opened a crack.

  “It’s the middle of the night, what do you want?” a young woman asked.

  “Mera, we need your help,” Martin said.

  His sister flung the door open. “Martin! What is it?”

  “One of the warband is badly hurt. Liam’s away with the captain, and we need an experienced healer,” Martin explained in a rush, not remembering Mera didn’t know who he was talking about. “I know it’s dangerous for you if anyone found out…”

  “No,” Mera interrupted. “Let me get my things. How far is it?”

  “I brought you a horse,” Martin said as an answer.

  Mera pulled on a pair of sturdy boots and threw a cloak over her dress. As she left the house, she slung a bag of supplies over her shou
lder. Martin explained further what had happened as they rode. Halfway to the caves, he blindfolded her and led her the rest of the way.

  At the caves, only a few of the men were still awake. Darrin and Tristan sat waiting at the table. Martin brought Mera in and took her to the small cave where Kieran sat beside his sister. Mera took off her wet cloak and rolled up her sleeves. Martin laid a comforting arm around Kieran and took him from the chamber as Mera pulled back the blanket covering Kara.

  * * *

  The rain had finally stopped. Corin and his patrol were still some distance from the forest when he called a halt. Night had fallen a few hours before. Liam rode up beside Corin.

  “I’ve been talking with some of the men, sir, and we’d all rather just push on to the caves if that’s all right,” he said.

  Corin nodded. He hadn’t been comfortable since they left the protection of the forest days ago. “That’s fine with me. We should make it back by tomorrow morning then.” He dropped back to ride beside Marc. “How are you holding up?” he asked.

  “I’ll be fine, sir,” Marc replied. The warrior had taken an Argusian knife through his arm. Liam had bandaged it thickly and fashioned a rough sling for him. But the long day’s riding had begun to tell on Marc, and blood had begun to spot the bandage. Liam rode close by, keeping an eye on Marc and the other wounded. Corin rode ahead again, taking his turn as an advance scout. Ignoring the pain, Marc rode on, keeping pace with the rest of the patrol.

  * * *

  Dawn was just breaking as Martin ducked through the curtain into the small cave. Mera sat on the rough camp stool by the ledge where Kara lay. The young girl was still unconscious and fevered. Mera stood to greet him.

  “How is she?” he asked.

  “The fever has gone down a little, and she’s resting easier now,” Mera replied.

  Martin blew a sigh of relief. “You hungry? Some of the lads are up and getting breakfast.”

  “Yes, I am. I didn’t know I’d been here that long already!”

  “Come on then. Kieran will sit with her.”

  Mera followed him out into the main cave and room was made for her at the tables.

  Breakfast was a simple affair: rashers of cooked deer meat, bread with wild berries, all washed down with cold stream water. Mera greeted some of the men, having treated injuries before and during the invasion.

  “How is Kara?” Darrin asked.

  “Much better, sire. I won’t need to stay much longer,” Mera said.

  “I don’t know if I can thank you enough for helping,” Darrin said.

  “No need. I’m glad I could help,” Mera replied.

  As the meal finished, the men began leaving to go about their duties. A sentry climbed down the ladder from the top of the caves into the cavern.

  “My lord, the captain is back. They look to have made it back in one piece,” the man said.

  They did not have to wait long before the patrol trooped in while shedding wet cloaks.

  “I was almost dry, and then it started raining again,” Bran complained, attempting to wipe mud from his boots.

  Owain flicked water at him. “Stop moaning! I was completely washed away half an hour ago,” he joked.

  Corin was last to come in with Liam, who was helping an unfamiliar warrior. Karif flew from Corin’s shoulder and perched on a stone outcropping where he shook himself vigorously and began preening. Martin caught Mera’s glance to where Liam was helping the man sit down on a bench. He knew she wouldn’t be satisfied until she had helped.

  “Come on, I’ll introduce you. Liam looks like he could use some help,” he said.

  They went over to Liam, and Martin quickly explained the reason for Mera’s presence. Liam readily accepted her help, and Mera began to unwind the bandage around the man’s arm. Martin had never been one for wounds and stitches so he beat a hasty retreat back to the head table to hear Corin’s report.

  Corin entered and made his way up to the commanders table where Darrin sat with Tristan and Trey. He greeted the men as he went, taking a second glance at the unfamiliar woman now assisting Liam.

  “You made it back,” Trey said.

  “Soaking wet and starving, but yes, we’re back.” Corin removed his cloak and weapons and laid them on the table. “Who’s…?” He pointed at the woman.

  “Don’t tell me you don’t remember my sister?” Martin clapped him on the shoulder as he joined them. Corin looked again, this time seeing the similarities to Martin in her features.

  “Last time I saw her, she was ten years old,” Corin pointed out.

  “True,” Martin conceded.

  “What’s she doing here?” Corin sat at the table. Darrin gave him a brief report on what had happened while he was gone. He smothered a curse in Calorin after the details of Kara’s capture.

  “How is she?”

  “Mera says she’ll be all right. You can’t blame yourself, Cor,” Darrin said.

  Corin managed a tight smile. It was too late for that.

  Darrin brought out the note they had received and handed it over. “Recognize anything?”

  Corin skimmed the message, his gaze falling to the star sketched in the corner. “It’s a Clan marking.” Aiden must have risked much to help them.

  Tristan told him what happened before he had left Lynwood and handed over another letter. “He wanted me to give you this. He seemed to know a little bit about you.”

  Corin silently read it and then looked up at their expectant faces.

  “I’m not getting out of this without an explanation, am I?” he asked.

  Darrin shook his head. Corin grinned ruefully. But he found that he didn’t mind talking about part of his time in Calorin. He was finally ready to. “All right, let me eat while I tell you.”

  Food was brought for Corin, and while he ate he told them of how he and Emeth met, of their friendship, and of serving in the Phoenix Guard. He also told them about Ahmed and Ismail.

  “Lord Rishdah and his family were strange to me. He took me in and showed me kindness. I couldn’t believe that all Calorins weren’t all as brutal as Balkor. Emeth, Ahmed, and I became close friends. We looked out for each other in every battle and fight we managed to get into. And now we’re fighting each other,” Corin finished.

  “Did you fight a lot over there?” Tristan asked curiously.

  “Yes. My first battle was on the Argusian border after the Sultaan declared war. We spent most of the year there in the desert, until the Sultaan made peace with the king of Argus. A few months later, he invaded here. For the next two years there was always another battle to fight with bandits, rebellious lords, and assassins. I could count a just a few months of peace during my service there.”

  “Did Emeth know about you?” Martin asked.

  “Not at first. Neither of us used our real names. After we heard about the invasion, we found out about each other: a lost prince and a runaway chieftain’s son.”

  “He’s a northerner. Won’t he fall under suspicion when they find out that Kara is gone?” Darrin asked.

  Corin was a little surprised, but grateful, to see the same concern in everyone’s eyes for his friend.

  “Probably, but I wouldn’t worry. We were up north in Qusay once. Lord Rishdah had to meet with the Sultaan. Emeth ran into some trouble with an angry, suspicious lord. He fed the lord a story of how he was banished from the northlands for killing some men and how he’d sooner kill himself before returning. We all almost believed him.” He couldn’t help a chuckle at the memory.

  Talk soon turned to other matters as he gave his own report and scouts brought in news of large Calorin patrols out in the forest. Darrin took Tristan and Trey with their men to waylay the Calorins. Martin would wait for a few hours before taking his sister back to the village.

  Mera was checking on Kara again when Corin came quietly into the small room. He lay his weapons and pack on the ledge.

  “How badly did they hurt her?” he asked.

  “They jus
t beat her. I don’t think her body will take too long to recover, but I don’t know what will happen when she wakes up,” Mera replied somberly. “I didn’t think the Calorins would be cruel enough to torture a young girl.”

  “Kadar is capable of anything,” Corin replied bitterly. “I was afraid something like this would happen if she stayed, so it’s partly my fault.”

  “I think she knew the risks of riding out. You all do and you still go,” Mera said.

  Corin nodded. “You’re not helping me feel better.”

  Mera suppressed a laugh. “It’s you, isn’t it, Corin?” She hesitated over the question.

  “You recognized me?” He asked in light surprise.

  “Martin said a few things that made me wonder and then I saw you and Darrin together and almost couldn’t believe my eyes.” She gave a quiet laugh. “I’m so glad you’re back. Martin looks happier than he has in years.”

  Corin smiled. He could probably say the same thing about himself.

  “Let me look at your arm?” She had noticed the rough bandage on his forearm.

  “It’s fine really. Liam will take care of it later.” Corin almost edged away. It had taken time for him to be comfortable with Liam treating his wounds and seeing the scars.

  “If I’m not mistaken, it’s a recent wound, and Liam won’t see it for a while,” Mera said with a slight smile.

  Corin’s automatic protest died when he saw that she wouldn’t back down. The scars he hated most wouldn’t be visible on his arm. And if he’d learned anything from Nicar and Liam, it was that healers always got their way. Sitting down at the low table, he pulled off his vambrace as Mera began to take off the bandage. Rolling up his sleeve, she began to wash the jagged cut.

  After working for a few minutes in silence, she asked, “What’s the south like? I heard you lived there for a time.”

  Corin was taken aback by the question, but he answered. “It’s flat. Grass plains as far as the eye can see. Each town and castle is like its own oasis. It looks lonely at first, but you get used to it after a while. I missed the mountains and trees most of all.”

 

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