Estrien's heart beat quickly. That was the last thing she wanted to hear. With the Bearoc once more disregarding Kester's sovereignty by sending war parties across their borders, the chance of peaceful negotiations had just come to an abrupt end. This would change everything.
Heartbreak
Baron rode on guard, trotting alone in the lands of the Horctura. He'd been so confident of his plan but coming close to Thay Iphilus Forest, where Ariadra was, he felt foolish for what he had purposed in his heart to accomplish. But he went all the same. It was too late to turn back now.
They'd advised him to travel by night as much as possible, as the caravans often did. The Horctura had been depleted in numbers, but they still patrolled the region. Baron kept to the edge of Thay Iphilus Forest. If he had to, he could flee within its bounds to escape a patrol.
All his thoughts were on Ariadra. He felt a mixture of excitement and shame. On the one hand, he couldn't wait to surprise her, to tell her how desperate he'd been without her. On the other hand, he felt ashamed for needing to do so. But anyone would have done the same, he told himself. It had been nearly a month and not so much as a word from her telling him she was safe.
Baron had no idea what he was doing, nor even what he would say to Ariadra when he at last saw her. He just needed to see her face...to know that she was safe and still cared for him as he did for her. Beyond that, he'd no idea what would happen. For she hadn't sent any kind of word. She had to know it was eating him alive inside. Didn't she? If he was so desperate, what about her?
Ariadra was either unable to get word to him, or she simply hadn't thought it important. The first case was unlikely, for the Forthurian soldiers had reported her safe arrival to the pathway leading to Ogrindal. The second case was far more likely, which almost made him sick to his stomach to consider, for it meant she didn't feel the same way about him as he did her. He was desperate to hear tidings from her, and she had probably barely considered him since her return home, so caught up with family and planning that time had simply slipped away from her.
That was the only conclusion that made any sense and with each passing step toward the forest, he felt like an utter fool. For if she was surprised when she saw him, surprised that he'd come so far just to check on her, offering a carefree apology for her long delay, Baron didn't know how he'd take it. Would he break off the wedding? Could he really be with someone who cared less for him than he for her? The thought terrified him.
Baron's heart beat quickly as he wrestled with his thoughts. It wasn't too late to turn back. How could he really face her like this, in such a desperate condition? Would she really want to be with such a mess of a man? But Baron didn't care. He needed to know. Even if she sent him away, saying she'd changed her mind, it was better than the despair he was now in.
The horse seemed to sense his anxiety, for he saw his eyes dart about at every movement in the night, at every distant stirring of some hunting animal on the prowl. It made Baron feel badly. The horse couldn't know that his rider's anxiety wasn't borne from immediate peril, but from lovesick worry. It only felt the tight grip of his master on the reins and his quick breathing. Baron did his best to calm himself. It was useless to speculate anyway.
He was glad to have the horse with him. His emotions were raw, and it almost brought tears to his eyes that the horse was so willing to bear him on his way, even though it sensed that eminent peril to its own life was near. Baron spent three nights in the open country of the Horctura. And then he saw it...an opening in the forest – the gaping corridor where a dozen soldiers could walk shoulder to shoulder into Ogrindal. It was an ominous sight in the pale light of the moon.
Baron lingered at its edge for many moments. He had better wait till morning to take the path to Ogrindal. Though he was known to them, it wasn't wise to creep about the forest at night. The Forest Guard might mistake him for an invader. So he made camp at the edge of the open plain, loathing the idea of a night shivering in the cold but having little choice.
But Sheabor had taught him a trick for staying warm that had served him well. Getting a fire going, he dug a shallow hole the length of his body and when the fire had matured to glowing embers, he scooped them into the hole and covered them over with the loose dirt. The coals stayed warm the better part of the night and when he finally grew cold and awoke, the glow of dawn was just beginning to light up the sky.
Baron packed his things and lit another small fire, his bones stiff. As the fire grew, Baron took from his pack a rock he'd brought with him from the alliance city. It was formed by the sands of the island Blair had brought back in his satchel. Baron had studied the stone for days, molding it in various ways and hardening it to the edge of his ability.
Baron still didn't understand how the various combinations of sand yielded new and unexpected properties in finished stone. Blair was convinced that in time, if they worked together, they'd unlock the key to making indestructible stone. But Baron was dubious. The masters of the First Age spent lifetimes experimenting and studying their craft. And King Euthor alone, among them, was able to decipher the secrets of making Shade Stone. If Blair's plan to trap Corcoran was to work, they needed to make true Shade Stone, not the lesser forms they could render now.
Baron ate a small breakfast and then made himself ready for a long day of travel. The horse was in the pasture, chomping its fill of grasses, and Baron approached with a smile.
“Come on, boy. Let's get to it.”
Though it was a long trek to the Ruhkan Mountain range at the heart of the forest where Ogrindal resided, Baron hoped to be greeted before long by the Forest Guard, who, if they hadn't already, would soon learn of his presence in the forest. Baron kept to the center of the broad pathway, making sure they could see him.
By midday, the sun shone high overhead, lighting up the pathway but darkening the depths of the forest surrounding. Baron began to feel vulnerable though he didn't know why. The Forest Guard had yet to greet him. Stopping for a short while, he ate some food, and then in the afternoon, the pathway began to change. Initially, there were downed trees strewn about everywhere, making it difficult to head straight through. The forces of Malfur had cleared away the largest obstructions as they marched, but the smaller trees still lay scattered about.
But as he continued on, the pathway grew more tended, someone having cleared away all the deadwood so new growth could emerge. By late afternoon, the ground on the pathway even grew soft, as though it were freshly tilled. The Forest Guard was trying to heal the pathway to the city. Baron couldn't blame them, for the scar on the forest left them exposed to the world.
Baron felt guilty for tromping along it. The hooves of his horse were leaving deep impressions in the ground but there was nothing he could do. He dare not risk leaving the path. The Forest Guard had to know he was here by now. Why weren't they greeting him? Baron traveled until the sun began to set below the trees, then used what little daylight he had left to gather firewood.
He was very close to Ogrindal now, for he'd seen the looming forms of the Ruhkan Mountains rising steadily before him. He desperately wanted to travel the rest of the way but something gave him pause. He felt a strange danger he couldn't quite define. The Forest Guard surely watched him from the shadows. Unless something had happened to Ogrindal and they'd all perished.
The thought made his heart race. They could've been attacked again by the Horctura. It took everything within him to wait for morning. Instead, setting up his camp for the night, he tended his small fire as it slowly turned to embers. Baron thought he heard the sound of a bowstring drawing and his horse grunted toward the west. Baron's eyes scanned the darkness and he began to hear the sounds of someone coming toward him.
His heart raced as he waited. He had a sword sheathed on the side of his horse and nearly went for it, but even glancing at it seemed to draw the sound of another bowstring from somewhere off in the darkness. What in the world was happening? But then, all at once, a figure emerged through the dark
ness. Baron couldn't believe his eyes. It was Ariadra!
Baron sprang forward, rushing to give her an embrace. But she stalled in her approach and even took a step back, which halted Baron in his tracks. The look on her face, though he could barely discern it in the low glowing light his embers offered, confirmed every creeping fear and doubt he'd had. It told him he shouldn't be here. But then he noticed something that further made his heart sink.
“You aren't wearing the pendant I made for you,” he said.
Ariadra's hand shot up to the place the pendant had hung for months, as though she herself were startled by its absence. Ever since he had given it to her, he had never seen her without it. But she seemed to be on edge, almost frightened. What in the world was happening here? Baron almost charged forward once more to embrace her but she composed herself, looking him right in the eyes.
“I'm so sorry, Baron. Things have changed. Ogrindal has changed.”
“What do you mean?”
“After I left, there was a plague,” she continued, her eyes glistening. “It fed on the early winter and the roving winds. Many of our people died.”
Ariadra struggled to continue.
“My mother...she also.”
“I'm so sorry,” Baron said, taking a step forward but stopping himself short.
It took everything within him not to wrap his arms around her in a warm embrace. But she was different – guarded and out of sorts. She wasn't herself. He'd never seen her this way.
“Baron, I know why you're here. But I can't come back with you. My people need me and I don't know for how long.”
Baron opened his mouth for reply, but nothing came. He could only stare at her speechless for many moments.
“Then I'll come with you,” he decided. “It'll be like before...when we first met. I don't care where I am, as long as I'm with you.”
Tears filled her eyes but she was slowly shaking her head.
“You're too important to Sheabor and the others.”
Baron opened his mouth in protest but she cut him short.
“The Forest Guard won't let you into the city. That's why I had to come out to meet you. Whinden has issued an order that no outsider ever be allowed inside Ogrindal again. He blames Sheabor for the plague and for putting Ogrindal at the world's mercy.”
Baron's mind raced. How had this happened? How had so much changed in such a short amount of time? He could see how horribly conflicted she was. It brought him a measure of peace, knowing that she still genuinely seemed to care for him. But greater concerns had taken hold of her and pushed Baron aside. He almost couldn't force himself to ask the question he had traveled days for an answer to.
“Where does that leave us?”
Ariadra was visibly pained at the question.
“My place is here in Ogrindal,” she replied at length.
“And you don't know for how long,” he continued.
Ariadra was gazing at the forest floor, shaking her head slowly in reply.
“Are you saying that it's over between us?” he asked.
A stream of tears was coming down her face.
“I'm saying I just can't think about it right now. I need to think of my family and my people.”
“I'll wait for you,” Baron said. “I don't care how long it takes.”
But Ariadra's gaze turned back to meet his and she regained her resolve.
“You need to leave this place and never come back,” she pleaded. “You're the last man in the world I ever wanted to hurt. I'm so sorry.”
Then Ariadra turned and sped away into darkness.
“Wait!” Baron called out and rushed forward after her.
But dark silhouettes of the Forest Guard emerged in his way and he heard the sound of bowstrings drawing. At first he had a mind to challenge them. Surely they wouldn't harm him! But what good would it do? Ariadra had made her decision. He had no choice but to depart.
Part 6
The Wall
Blair and Sorren departed the alliance city in the dead of night, drawing away without notice, for Sheabor had instructed that no one be told of their assignment. Though Sheabor was trusting, Corcoran had eyes and ears everywhere. The pair climbed the now tall wall of the alliance city in the northeastern corner that attached into the mountain from which the stone for the city was harvested. It felt strange to dart about and hide from their own guards who patrolled the wall.
When they were atop the wall, they laid there a moment chest down, until it was safe to again move. Sorren had his hand on Blair's shoulder, instructing him not to stir. Blair chuckled silently, for Sorren was clearly taking his job as protector very seriously. They weren't even outside the city yet.
Sorren lifted his hand and rolled to his left, gracefully dismounting the wall and landing on his feet. He held his hands upward and Blair dropped the supplies to him. Then Blair shuffled off the side himself and hit the ground somewhat hard. Sorren helped him up and motioned for them to continue. They skirted the mountain northward bound, and after only a few minutes of walking, Blair heard the neighing of a horse and stalled.
“Don't fear,” Sorren said. “They're from my father.”
The two found a pair of horses tied to a low hanging branch. Blair was surprised to find that Jaithur was helping them for Sheabor said he told no one where they were going. Not even Sorren knew. Only Blair.
“Does your father know where we're going?” Blair asked.
“Sheabor didn't tell him.”
Blair smiled. That really didn't answer the question. It just meant he'd gotten his information from another source. Though Sheabor may not have told him the mission, that didn't mean that Jaithur hadn't somehow worked it out. Blair was sure that when it came to his son's safety, Jaithur would stop at nothing to be in the know. But Sorren's lips were sealed on the matter.
The pair mounted the horses, riding slowly in the shadow of the mountain. It was very dark here and the horses trotted more by sense than sight. What little light that wasn't blocked by the looming form of the mountain was scattered by the leaves of overhanging trees. The two rode side by side but spoke little. After an hour, the moon escaped the form of the mountain, and a gentle glow entered the deep forest. A chill hung in the air that made Sorren grab his arms, he clearly from a warmer climate than Blair was, which made Blair chuckle.
“They'll not have even started burning the hardwood yet back home.”
Sorren turned to him with a look of displeasure.
“And where is that exactly?”
“A place I'm sure you've never visited.”
“The Jedra have been everywhere.”
Blair smiled.
“Except my little island, of course, until I found it and sent you there,” Blair jested. “Oh and then there's that small patch of ground called the Banished Lands.”
Sorren huffed, waving away Blair's statements.
“Oh, and what are those lands called again...the lands of Aeleos? Been there recently?”
Sorren smirked at Blair's persistence but Blair couldn't seem to help himself.
“Melanor. I hear that's a fine city. Have any friends there? And oh, the next time you make it to the Illian city, I'm afraid you'll find it changed since my brother and I visited.”
“Alright, alright,” Sorren surrendered.
Blair laughed. The world was clearly a larger place than Sorren had allowed for. The comment Baron had made earlier about them switching roles now struck Blair. He ordinarily wasn't one to harass someone mercilessly. That was always the game of choice for Baron. Perhaps Blair was becoming more like Baron than he realized.
“I'm from a small town called Suriya,” Blair said at length.
Sorren nodded thoughtfully as though recalling it, but then his gaze grew confused.
“Isn't that in the Desert of Kadesh, in the northeast of the barbarian kingdom?”
Blair laughed.
“No. It's at the bottom of the world. The furthest southern town of Forthura.”
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“Ah yes. I was thinking Sutra. You definitely don't have the look of a Sutran. We travel seldom in the lands of Forthura. Little profit to be made.”
Blair was intrigued by the notion that Sorren had been to the far reaches of the lands of the Horctura but rarely to Forthura.
“What do you trade with the barbarians?” Blair asked.
“Ingots of the finest iron, mostly. The blacksmiths of Kester have developed a method for refining iron that surpasses that of the Horctura, who pay a handsome price for it.”
“Isn't that a bit treasonous?” Blair questioned, half jesting and half serious. “Providing weapons to a hostile nation?”
“Not weapons,” Sorren corrected. “Iron. They could very well be making wagon straps with them. And Kester isn't at war with the barbarians anyway. Just on guard. That's why the fortress K'venneh was constructed, an eastern bastion erected to warn the Horctura not to cross their borders.”
That was a fine way of looking at it. King Froamb could be none too pleased that the Horctura were being supplied with better means for making warfare against his people. Blair now understood the admission from Sorren that the Jedra don't often travel through Forthura. Though Sorren claimed that it was purely financial, Blair suspected they were largely unwelcome because of their dealings with the Horctura.
As Blair pondered, the small forest began to give way to the bare and rocky dirt which surrounded the region. Sheabor had told them their journey would take at least all night. Blair didn't know what time it was, but they couldn't have much more than six hours before sunrise. They could ride with greater speed now that they were in the open but Blair wasn't sure exactly what to look for. Sheabor told him he would know it when he saw it.
“Where are we heading now?” asked Sorren.
“North.”
Sorren's countenance betrayed a hint of surprise, but he quickly stifled it and curtly nodded. Blair smiled. The Jedra were an interesting people – always seeking the upper hand, even among friends, and quite unaccustomed to being outside the know.
The Banished Lands- The Complete Series Page 70
