by Bob Blink
Jolan was well away from the crowds, at least for the moment. Shyar had some business to attend to this morning, and had agreed to meet him at the playhouse where they frequently went for entertainment. The streets were uncommonly empty as he stood waiting, wondering what could be keeping her. Shyar wasn’t always prompt, but the speech the King was expected to make was something she’d indicated she wanted to hear. Jolan would have preferred to lounge around in bed all morning for a change.
He knew they were going to be late. The festivities should have already started. He thought he could hear the crowds that way, despite the distance.
“Jolan,” someone shouted, and he turned to see Luzoke hurrying down the street in his direction. When he was close enough for Jolan to see Luzoke’s face he knew something was wrong.
“Thank the Dragons,” Luzoke said. “Nerila said you would be down here waiting.”
“What?” asked Jolan concerned.
“Shyar’s friend Worina was found dead a short time ago. There is no sign of Shyar and they were supposed to be together.”
Worina was a mid-level student-mage that Shyar had been training to take over some of the effort for Buris. They had known each other only a short time, but had become close. Shyar had told Jolan this morning she would be going with Worina, and that was the reason he’d be able to sleep in an extra hour and have a full breakfast before heading to their pre-arranged meeting place.
“Let’s go,” Jolan said. If Shyar found him missing she would be upset, but he didn’t think that was going to happen. He was sure something very bad must have happened. The only thing that gave him hope was that Shyar’s body hadn’t been found with her friend.
By the time they arrived, the King’s Guard had been called to the scene, despite the ranks being thinned considerably to support the crowd control at the festival. No sign was found of Shyar and no one had seen what had happened. Jolan was starting to get really concerned, but was not thinking clearly and couldn’t think of how to try and locate Shyar. If she had been with Worina, something he was taking as given, she wouldn’t have left unless it was too dangerous to stay, or unless she had been forced to leave. If she had left because of danger, she’d had more than sufficient time to have come to where he was waiting. Worina had been dead for some time. Since Shyar hadn’t come to him, he was very much afraid someone had forced her to go somewhere against her will.
Who and why? The answers to those questions were far too easy. If she had been taken, it was because of her relationship with him. She could be used to threaten or attempt to control him, and the simple act of her abduction could be expected to affect his ability to function. It already had.
If his enemies had taken her, they would almost certainly try and take her to Cheurt in Ale’ald. What he needed to know was what route they would take. He couldn’t do this alone. He doubted much could be accomplished even with the help of all his friends. The kidnappers, for he was more convinced than ever now that was what had happened here, already had a good head start, and there were almost infinite possibilities to try and follow. He needed to get to Chancellor Vaen or Major Eward. They could get him help with the King’s Guard and have a search initiated that might uncover a trail before too much time had passed. Well, he knew where the people he wanted to talk with would be right now.
“Let’s go to the festival,” he said to Luzoke and started that way at a run.
They were almost there when they started running into crowds of fleeing people, many crying and others simply running for their lives.
“What happened?” he asked on one man he grabbed as he passed.
“An attack in the square. Hundreds are dead. The King is dead as well. A number of mages were killed trying to defend him, and they killed some of the attackers. Wizards and others. I don’t know if they got them all or whether they are still on the loose. I wouldn’t go there if I were you. It’s far too dangerous.”
The King dead? What about Chancellor Vaen? He let the man go and he and Luzoke redoubled their efforts to get there. By the time they made it, it was all over. Bodies lay on the stones of the square, many horribly burned from the fire that had been unleashed on the crowd of thousands. Major Eward was there looking pale, his left arm badly burned and ignored as he tried to direct activities. He recognized Jolan and waved him over.
“Do you think your ring can help Chancellor Vaen?” he asked. “She was hit by a shield-breaker and some kind of spell while undefended.”
Vaen hurt? Damn it. She should have been using the shield-pair, but Jolan knew as soon as the thought crossed his mind why she hadn’t been. To have used the shield here would have been to reveal its existence, something she had cautioned him against herself. Not really expecting trouble, she’d taken the chance of using the standard shields, which normally would have been sufficient. Someone had targeted her as well as the King.
Eward took them over to where she lay. They were waiting for a carriage to take her to the medical mages, but with the panic it still hadn’t arrived. She was unconscious and pale, the age showing on her face. At least she was breathing.
Jolan bent down and placed his hand on her arm. Her skin was very cool. Come on, he encouraged the ring, but nothing happened. After a few minutes it was clear that nothing would. Whatever ailed the aged chancellor, it was something the ring couldn’t deal with. Magic, Jolan knew. The ring could cure almost any physical damage, but was impotent against the ravages of the power.
“The King?” Jolan asked belatedly.
“Dead,” Eward confirmed. “They have already carried him away. His daughter is now in charge. I don’t know whether they will make her queen or just temporary ruler since no one is sure about Mojol.”
* * * *
The toll had been more than five hundred citizens dead, including ten mages. The mages had managed to kill three of the attacking wizards and ten non-wizards, but certainly far more had been involved. They had planned the attack around the festival, and had hidden in the crowds. A quick ceremony had been held to make Sayusta queen, with the understanding she would have to step down if Mojol returned, something most didn’t expect to happen. She had spent the last three days trying to bring matters under control, and was finding herself overwhelmed by the duties that had suddenly been thrown in her lap. It was one thing to be standing behind her father and making her own mental decisions on selected matters. It was quite another matter to have every issue placed before her for a quick decision. She was out of her depth and knew it. Given time, she would grow into the position, but now, with the war and this attack, she wasn’t sure where to turn.
Chancellor Vaen, who would have been the most useful advisor was still unconscious, and doubts were now being expressed about the likelihood of her ever recovering. In her place, Lonid had been advanced to temporary Chancellor, and had assumed her duties and authority. He had some strong feelings about the decisions Sayusta was making, and was quick to offer his thoughts.
In the midsts of the disaster, Jolan had not been able to gather people able to break away from the immediate urgency resulting from the attack to help look for Shyar. She had never turned up, and he now knew it was a hopeless task to try and find her. He and his friends had questioned the obvious people and visited the likely places the abductors would go, but hadn’t learned anything. They’d checked every inn on the five main roads out of town, but no one had seen anyone suspicious, or anyone who looked like her. They’d checked the ports and as many of the shipping companies as they could. Nothing.
Jolan was dying inside, but he had nowhere to turn. He could only hope they’d keep her alive to use against him. Somehow, he’d get to her, however long it took.
When Dibon came into his room with a long face the next morning, Jolan’s heart skipped a beat.
“Vaen?” he asked anxiously.
“No change,” Dibon replied, and Jolan let out a breath.
“More bad news though,” Dibon said. “The Queen and Lonid want to see you.
I came to warn you. They’re throwing you out.”
“What does that mean?”
“They want you to leave Cobalo and the College.”
“Why? In the middle of this war?”
“It’s no secret that Lonid hasn’t liked you from the beginning, and he is still frustrated that you can do things he cannot. He’s watched as you have grown in strength and influence, and now he has a chance to act against you.”
“And why would Sayusta want me gone. I’ve been trying to help.”
“I don’t know how much actually comes from Lonid, but she is convinced you have given up all you are able and that no more ideas are going to be forthcoming. She has also stated that the reason Angon is under attack is because Cheurt has personal reasons to hate you. She believes as long as you are being sheltered by Angon, there will be more attacks. If you are gone, then Ale’ald will leave us alone and concentrate on winning the rest of the Settled Lands. It is clear that they have designed their attack plan to split the lands into two camps.”
“That’s pretty short sighted.”
“We on the Council realize that, but for now there is nothing we can do. If it were only Lonid, we could appeal to the crown, but with both of them calling for you to leave, we are helpless. If only Chancellor Vaen could recover, this nonsense would stop.”
“How is she? I was afraid when you came in that she’d died.”
“There is little change. Perhaps a bit of decline, but whatever has her she is fighting. Perhaps the spells that gave her long life have afforded her some resistance. All we can do is hope. None of the medical mages have seen anything like this before.”
* * * *
The meeting with Lonid and the Queen went as Dibon had predicted. He and Asari were given two days to be out of the capital, hopefully to leave Angon proper, although that wasn’t demanded. Apparently they thought simply washing their hands of him and turning him loose to be vulnerable to any attack Cheurt might wish to throw at him would be sufficient.
“Where are we going to go?” asked Asari when they returned from the palace.
“Here,” said Jolan, pulling the long ignored map of Ygooro out of his storage box.
“Rifod claims there’s nothing there,” reminded Asari.
“There is, I know it. But if he is right, then you and I will sneak into the Land of Giants and from there into Ale’ald and somehow we will kill Cheurt and rescue Shyar. Agreed?”
A sparkle came into Asari’s eyes, and he nodded enthusiastically. “I’ve been getting tired of things around here anyway.”
They had just finished agreeing when the rest of their group slipped into the room. “We just heard,” said Ronoran. “It’s not right. What are you going to do?”
Jolan pointed to the map on the bed. “We’re going to go there. I should have gone right after I found the map. I’ve been wasting time here.”
“I’m coming,” said Luzoke.
“You’re scheduled to go to Seret next month,” said Jolan.
“I’m coming with you. What can they do about it?”
“Me too,” said Ronoran. “If something is there, you might need my skills. I suddenly don’t like it here anymore.”
Two other voices joined in after a short hesitation. “We’re coming also.” Rifod and Nerila had returned a couple of weeks ago, happily married, and a bit reluctant to be back.
“I thought you said there’s nothing there?” Jolan said.
“There’s not,” agreed Rifod. “We came back because something tells us we are important to what you are going to do. That means we have to go where you go.”
“It’s going to be uncomfortable, and it’s apt to be dangerous,” Jolan warned. He couldn’t see what use the two could be and would rather they stayed safe. They were good friends, but this wasn’t where they excelled. Besides, they were just settling in together.
“We’re coming,” Nerila added closing the matter.
It took the full two days to get ready. The College provided them with horses, and Asari withdrew half of the golds in his account, spreading the coin among the travelers against loss by any person. They had a long way to go, yet with a bit of hopeful anticipation the group rode out early the next morning. Jolan had left a number of items with Buris, including the iPhone which he would be unable to charge on the trail.
Asari wore the Colt for the first time in months, and Jolan had made it clear it was now his, no matter what happened. Asari also had his bow slung over his shoulder and a complete quiver of arrows. His accurized rifle was in a scabbard that Jolan had helped design. Jolan also had one of the rifles. Everyone else felt themselves reasonably well protected by their magic. Asari thought them over confident, but knew he wouldn’t be able to change anyone’s mind.
As the group rode away, Jolan felt a touch of pride that his friends had chosen to follow him. It felt good to be on the move again, and despite the deep ache he felt for his missing love, he knew somehow this was the only path open to him that might bring them back together. He almost wanted to thank Lonid and the Queen for making the choice apparent. The answer was out there, if only they could find it in time.
Chapter 82
The trip to the desert where Ygooro had once existed was expected to take seven to eight weeks, depending on the weather, how well they traveled as a group, and how quickly they adapted to all day in the saddle. The first week was both the hardest and the easiest of them all. It was the hardest because none of them were used to long days in the saddle any more. It had been far more than a year since Jolan had ridden on a horse. While his skills had been adequate by the time they’d reached Seret, he now found himself having to relearn some of the basics of just how to sit and move with the motion that was going on beneath him. Not much to his surprise, he found himself with a very sore posterior by the end of the first day. He could tell that Ronoran had much the same kind of a day, and Nerila seemed pretty worn out as well. Somehow Asari, Luzoke and Rifod hadn’t seemed to have much trouble adapting to the change in their status, and by the end of the day could still have continued on, showing no ill effects from the long day in the saddle. He wished he had the horse he’d left in Seret now. It had been a friendly animal with whom he’d made friends. This horse was a bit mean spirited and liked to bounce him around and sometimes tried to take a nip out of him. He needed to find a way to get on the animal’s good side before he lost a chunk of hide.
The first week was the easiest because they were still in civilization, and while they’d left Cobalo behind before the first day was over, there were still numerous small towns along the way, each offering comfortable inns and places to eat. That meant there was no camping on the ground, something that Jolan knew was coming and he wasn’t looking forward to doing it again. They also were able to dine quite well, and if it weren’t for the knowledge in the back of each of their minds that they were leaving behind a life they’d settled into, they could have been a group of friends out on the town.
They’d worked out several travel arrangements early the first day as they rode away from the capital. Of course, Rifod and Nerila would share a room. It seemed natural for Jolan and Asari to fall back into their old ways, so they would share the second room on those nights they found an inn. That left Luzoke and Ronoran to the final room. They were old friends and got along well together so everything worked out quite smoothly. Jolan couldn’t help feeling a bit despondent at night when he observed Rifod and Nerila slip contentedly off to their room together. He wondered if Shyar was okay, and how long it would be before he could hold her close and safe once again.
As the days slipped by they fell into a ritual, getting up early and starting off just after sunrise. They’d ride until mid-morning, seek out a place to eat, and continue on. Once they had traveled for a few days and made up a list of items they had managed to overlook, they stopped at one of the stores near the first range of mountains and augmented their supplies. The store, since it was on the edge of some rough country, was w
ell stocked with the items they wanted. They even found a few things they hadn’t thought of.
From the traffic on the road, one would not have thought that the Settled Lands were at war. The people were carefree and content to go about their business. There were no signs of troops, and the only indication that these were not normal times was the sheer volume of traffic on the road. Many wagons were seen going both ways, always heavily loaded. There were far more wagons than Jolan could remember from his and Asari’s previous travels, although that had been in Seret. Luzoke noted it as well, and commented that’d he’d never seen so many merchants on the road. Someone was making money with the threat of war looming in the future.
They could have taken the coastal route down to Burar and then turned inland towards Tialer and Bauto, which would have been a more developed route, if a bit longer. However, they’d chosen the inland route because it was shorter, and because they thought it would be less heavily traveled. It no longer mattered. They had passed through Bauto where they’d left the main trail and turned west toward the sparsely settled lands. Rifod had explained that within a couple of days of leaving Bauto they would be in wilderness and it would be rare indeed to see another human being.
“You’re sure they are following us?” Jolan asked Asari as they rode side-by-side behind the others.
“Have to be,” Asari said. “I’d thought I saw someone yesterday, but when I looked I couldn’t see anyone. I saw them again this morning, then they seemed to disappear for a while. It’s like they are hard to see. If you just glance back, you don’t see anyone, but if you sit and look carefully, you start to see oddities on the trail, and then you can sort of pick them out from the background. It depends what kind of terrain we are going through as to how easy it is to see them. Ever since we left Bauto behind we haven’t seen but a few folks, and none of them were traveling this way. This group is headed the same way we are, and at a pace that keeps them a constant distance behind us.”
