“We have to try Rua.” She felt helpless. She had been depending on his leadership to get them through the forest.
“It’s the magic Ariana; it’s eating away at him.” Ariana thought for a minute. If magic had hurt him magic could help him. “Keep him warm and don’t interrupt me. I’m going to try something.”
Her fingers trembled as she unshielded the stone. She took his hands in hers going easily into the trance he’d taught her. But she didn’t know what to do next. She visualized Cerynus questioning, and then guiding her mind to the proper channel. She merged with the Stone, suddenly aware of colors swirling around in a maelstrom of energy. Great swirls of red and bilious yellow rose from Cerynus’ body. That was the fever. She pushed through the swirling masses of fevered energy trying to suffocate her into the cool rational depths of his being.
He was slate blue and dark green, calm with diamond brilliance flashing. She went deeper, midnight blue, patience shot through with vestiges of bitterness. She went down another level and hit a barricade; before it crashed down she felt a light violet she couldn’t identify before it closed off to her. She wasn’t meant to see that part. She followed the tide of colors until she reached the sickness, red devouring leaving black ash in its wake. If the sickness reached his heart Cerynus would die.
Concentrating she felt white light radiating in all directions into the swirling colors. She formed the light into a wall pushing the sickness away. It resisted. She focused; it gave way slowly, tar on your shoe on a hot summer day. Sticky and hot it lingered as her cool white force pushed it back. She gloried in the sense of power and accomplishment, pulling more force in to sweep the sickness out. It retreated. Passing through the barren gray areas it had infected she sent small tendrils of light to restore balance. They reached the surface. She soothed the fever with the healing light. When all remaining was tranquil she retreated.
Slowly she opened her eyes. The forest emerged from night into the light of dawn. Her back stiff and arms sore from holding so tightly to Cerynus’ hands, she looked down at him. He breathed naturally and the awful sweat pouring off his face was gone. With a relieved sigh, she let go. The slight movement unbalanced her and she fell backward. Warm hands grasped her elbows and helped her up slowly. Vaguely she realized a blanket covered her. Stiff and chilled from being in one position Ariana shivered pulling the blanket closer.
“Are you all right? I didn’t dare move you. You were so still and then the white light....” Rua sounded awed.
“Do you want some tea? What can I do for you?” Jarod rubbed her arms and back with the blanket to help her warm up.
“Tea” she croaked. Jarod thrust the steaming mug into her hand. “Thanks” she mumbled cradling the hot cup in cramped fingers. Rua and Jarod helped her up. She sat down next to the fire to warm up. Aside from exhaustion she was physically fine. Somehow she’d been able to combat the toxic magic with the Stone. Could she heal non-magical wounds? I’ll find out later. Right now, time to sleep. Pleased with herself she pulled the blanket close around her: falling into a deep and dreamless sleep.
The next thing she knew Jarod gently shook her. “We have to go” Muzzily she sat up, mid afternoon the shadows starting to lengthen from the trees. She looked over to Cerynus sitting up, pale and weak but alive. Rua caught her eye and grinned. They had done it. Together the two of them had saved Cerynus. She got up and stretched, still tired but she could make it.
“We’ve got to make the time up now. Rhysin’s forces could be after us,” said Jarod. She nodded. He gave her some tea.
Slowly she sipped feeling rejuvenated almost immediately. She walked over to Cerynus sipping his own tea. “You saved my life. We are now kin, you are now of my clan, my own heart's blood links us.”
“I couldn’t let you die. You’re my friend.”
“Ariana, I’m honored. But you took a grave risk; the Stalker’s magic could have destroyed you. Never take such a risk again.”
“I can’t promise you that.”
Cerynus just looked at her, gray eyes unwavering. They reminded her of the wolf’s eyes. She looked down. “All right I’ll try.” Cerynus nodded, satisfied.
“Rua was also there. If she hadn’t woken me up...” Ariana shuddered.
“We have to hurry.” Jarod interrupted them, “We’ve lost too much time, and Rhysin’s scouts could be on our trail.”
They doused the fire scattering the ashes. Gulping down their cooling tea, they rolled up their bedding, packed their bags and mounted up. Ariana’s legs protested as she swung into the saddle. “How far are we from the town?” she asked.
“A two-day journey north.” answered Jarod. “We’ll ride until dark. Let’s go.”
They trotted down the trail. Ariana’s mind wandered, she wasn’t sure how she felt about being part of Cerynus’ clan. She’d ask Rua when they had a moment. She wasn’t sure where she belonged, Ledrith or New York. They both felt strange right now.
Chapter Eight
The city Amathwyr rose in the distance. The sanctuary of the forest was two days behind them. Ariana missed the sheltering trees and their whispering secrets. She felt as if every passing bird was reporting her location to Rhysin. The last three days had been tense. They’d taken short breaks, grabbed stale bread and cheese rinds from saddlebags not daring to risk a fire and alert the enemy.
That morning it rained, a steady drizzle, just enough to seep through layers of clothing and chill to the bone. The rain made the reins and saddle slick and slippery. Ariana decided she didn’t like adventuring. Robin Hood or King Arthur never squelched around in the saddle, had saddle sores or would have killed for a bath. She sighed. Rua rode up to her. She had pulled her yellow hood up over her head and she grinned at Ariana’s morose face.
“Fair Morn, Ariana. This is nothing, just a summer squall. It will pass. Now, the rain in the winter months, that is hard. We’ll soon be warm and dry. I know this town like my hand. A bard is always welcome. So cheer up. Tonight we’ll be well fed and dry.”
The rain stopped, but it was still overcast. Ariana wished the sun would show so she’d dry off. Jarod trotted ahead, his mouth drawn in pain as the jarring gait irritated his shoulder. Cerynus trailed behind brow furrowed in thought.
“Stop,” he called out, “We will be at the great north road in a few miles. Amathwyr is a trading center; many people travel in and out of its gate merchants, lords, farmers. We don’t know if our description went out before we destroyed the collar, but better to be cautious. Ariana you should change into your dress and keep your cloak drawn around you. Do not speak. Your accent would cause talk. Lady Rua, you should have no problem, Jarod try to look like a mercenary not a lord.”
Ariana changed behind a hedge near the tree. Glad to leave her damp riding clothes for the almost dry dress. Rua helped her pin up her hair. When she had done all she could, Ariana folded her sodden riding clothes into a bundle and stepped from the bushes.
“Rhysin is a strong force in the city. His army has barracks in the city and he controls the puppet overlord. Ariana remember not to speak. Jarod be discreet with your sword. Let Rua do the talking.” Cerynus said.
They remounted and soon reached the road, not much more than a wide trail. Packed rock hard from years of trade and traffic, laden wagons pulled by oxen, the bleating passage of sheep and trudging mule trains groaning with riches to be traded on the river. The dusty feet of herders, the hooves of riding horses and the tramp of soldier’s boots had followed the road to Amathwyr.
That afternoon the traffic was sparse. Some country girls with baskets for trade and a few farmers’ wagons were all they passed on their way to Amathwyr. It waited for them; a creamy pearl nestled on the banks of the river. The walls were made from pale stone making the city appear like a mist rising from the water. They mingled among people seeking entry at the main gateway.
From the watchtowers two flags drooped in the sodden air, Amathwyr’s silver griffin and the familiar black and crimson claw
. Soldiers in black and crimson intermixed with the city garrison standing guard on the city walls. A tall cloaked man stood in the tower above the gate watching. Cerynus stopped short.
He turned to fiddle with his bag, muttering under his breath “It’s one of Rhysin’s adepts.” Jarod paled. Ariana looked at Jarod. What were they going to do? Cerynus caught her eye. Rua glanced at the guards.
“Stay calm. I don’t dare do any magic. Ariana control the Stone. If I try to mask us he’ll catch it. Stay calm and let us do the talking.”
One of Rhysin’s men interrogated people passing through the city gates. Things seemed to go in slow motion. They drew closer. Ariana’s palms started sweating. Distantly she noticed a hawk circling lazily above the town walls. The stone warmed. Sternly she quelled the surge of magic that swelled through her, but a small part of her kept the connection just in case.
They were right up to the gate now, a farm wife with her prize sow between them and the guards. The guard looked at the pig asked her a few questions and she was through. Then it was their turn.
“Your business here?” The bored guard asked. He was young with a blue and gray plaid over his shoulder. One of Rhysin’s men stood next to him looking at the travelers with cold eyes.
“Why can that be young Cein? Do you not remember me? Sure I thought I entertained you well when I was here last?” Rua stepped forward with a saucy wink
“Lady Rua, of course I remember you.” Cein blushed and bowed. “We have not seen you in a while but you are always welcome. Let you and your party pass.”
“Thank you Ser Cein, I shall be at my usual Inn.” The guard blushed again, mumbling something. They stepped forward through the gate. The adept leaned forward puzzled sniffing the breeze. Ariana’s heart felt as if it was going to burst right out of her chest. Ariana sent a desperate plea to the hawk.
Shrieking the hawk swooped in front of the adept distracting him. They were through the city’s gate. They didn’t waste time savoring the slight victory. They followed Rua down narrow winding cobblestone streets filled with people. Everywhere, people yelling, soldiers pushing, merchants strutting, beggars in rags, young apprentices, noblewomen in litters so they wouldn’t have to touch the filthy streets, alongside barefoot farmer’s wives on their way to market carrying baskets filled with cheeses, sausages or the occasional goose or pair of ducks.
They reached the chaotic Market Square filled with hawkers and the roar of trade. A pig ran squealing in front of their horse’s making Firebrand shy and bounce against Starfall who nipped at his haunch. He rose on his hind legs but was quickly controlled by Jarod. A boy chasing the shoat rolled under the plunging stallion’s hooves. “Watch where yer’ goin.” yelled the boy with an impudent gesture.
Jarod pulled Firebrand aside sharply to avoid hitting the boy. One of the stallion’s hooves almost caught the boy in the shoulder and the force knocked him down. Before Firebrand had reached the ground the boy leapt to his feet and was gone chasing the runaway.
Rua led them down a side street. It was less crowded and the buildings less imposing. This was one of the less prosperous parts of the city. The buildings leaned inward over the narrow street making the afternoon light dim as it reached the street. Ragged people sat dully on their stoops. The cobblestones were filthy and the gutters full of disgusting refuse that Ariana refused to identify. Beggars were everywhere. Various taverns and brothels with brightly painted doors and crudely painted signs over the door appeared more frequently. Ariana wasn’t too disturbed by the seedy neighborhood; it was nothing compared to 42nd street and Times Square.
“No one will ask us any questions here.” Rua said. “This is the heart of the wards. They know me here.”
They were in front of the nondescript White Hart Inn. It was two stories tall; dark timbered and looked reasonably clean. The sign over the door was a white stag with an ivy ribbon around its neck. They dismounted. A hostler came forward to collect their mounts and Jarod gave him detailed instructions about the horses needs. Nodding resignedly the man took them to the stables. They went inside.
The innkeeper bustled up to them. He was about forty years old with sandy gray hair and alert blue ayes. He was dressed in a simple smock and apron. He looked as if he took advantage of the kitchens and cellars to keep well padded. The tavern was large and dark and smelled of spilled beer and smoke.
“My lord and lady, welcome. I am your host here at the White Hart. We have the best rooms in the Inn ready for your worships' use. Two adjoining rooms with the largest fireplaces and bedsteads you’ll find anywhere.”
Rua interrupted “Giles, peace, we know that you have adequate rooms in this flea ridden…”
“Lady Rua, I didn’t see you there. Welcome.” Giles threw his arms around her and hugged her. When she was free she looked at Ariana,
“He knows I will bring in more money for his greedy coffers in one day than he makes in a week.” But her eyes twinkled and Ariana could tell she liked being in the city.
”Giles, don’t try to cheat us. I know your rooms of old and I want the front two.”
“You are harsh mistress, as if I would give you any less than our best.”
As he spoke, he led them up the dark narrow steps to their rooms. The rooms were clean and comfortable. A huge canopied four-poster bed dominated the main one. The room next door was bright and cheery, the bed a little smaller. Any bed at all looked like heaven to Ariana. She was happy to see that Giles was directing that baths be brought up in gleaming copper tubs. The servants finished bringing up their gear. After agreeing to meet in an hour they all went to settle in. Rua looked at Ariana’s face, looked at the bath and laughed.
“You take a bath I’ll go down and catch up on the news.”
“Thank you.” Ariana went into their room and closed the door. She unpacked her saddlebags, hung the sodden riding leathers next to the fire to dry. The rest of the clothes she unpacked and hung inside out letting them air out. Putting the embroidered screen in front of the tub, she undressed and slipped into the tub. It was filled with hot water and fragrant herbs. She settled into the steaming water. This was heaven. The aches and pains of the last two weeks went away and she luxuriated in the heat and the fleeting moment of privacy.
Lazily she scrubbed with the herbal scented soap. It felt so good to be clean again. She washed her hair twice and reluctantly decided to get out of the tepid bath. She put on the blue dress. Ariana decided to let her hair dry before braiding it. She sat next to the fire untangling the hair covering her like a fawn shawl.
There was a sound from the doorway. Jarod stood silhouetted in the doorway. He looked down embarrassed to have been caught staring. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.” He came into the room closing the door behind him. He walked closer, intent focused like a hunter on his prey. His hand reached out to her hair. Gently he lifted a lock from her shoulder. She sat mesmerized by the look in his eyes.
“You are so beautiful with the fire behind you. Your hair gleams like summer wheat.” He caressed it with his fingertips. “It feels like silk.” He raised the lock to his lips stopped and let go. “I’m sorry.” He turned to leave.
She caught his hand. “No wait.”
He smelled of soap, his hair was still damp curling on his neck. She stood and lightly touched his fresh shaved cheek. His face was warm and soft under her fingertips. She stepped back looking up at him. “Ariana,” he pulled her forward into his arms. Then he kissed her. Kissed her as if he’d waited years to breathe and she was air. She gasped, surprised, then she was kissing him back. His hand sank into the tawny fragrance of her hair. He gripped the nape of her neck claiming her. She closed her eyes, his scent, a blend of leather and the fragrant herbs he’d bathed in surrounded her. The kiss deepened, she arched her back. He held her tighter trailing kisses down her neck.
There was a knock on the door. Ariana and Jarod sprang apart. “May I come in?” called Rua from the hallway. Ariana pivoted, whipping her semi dr
y hair into a braid. Putting her hair up and anchoring it in place, she composed herself. Taking a deep breath she turned around with a smile pinned to her face.
Rua opened the door. Jarod stood like a schoolboy caught in mischief. She looked at Jarod’s flushed face and then at Ariana’s hectic cheeks and skewed braid. She raised a questioning eyebrow.
“I thought to take my bath now,” Jarod turned beet red and fled out the door. Rua chuckled and directed the maid with the fresh water. Ariana had almost made it to the door when Rua called her back.
“Ariana, pray wait for a moment.”
Damn, Ariana turned with a questioning look on her face. Rua laughed and splashed at her. The servant left.
“So?” Rua’s black eyes were wicked.
“What?” Ariana felt her cheeks redden.
“Come now. There are no secrets from a bard. I told you that before.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of course you do. If I hadn’t interrupted, you two would have been on the floor. You’re lucky Ser Cerynus didn’t catch you.”
“It was just a kiss.”
“There is no such thing as just a kiss when people look at each other like you twain.”
“It was just a kiss.” Ariana insisted. “You don’t mind?”
“Mind, why should I mind? I think it’s the best thing for both of you. It will help Jarod heal and it makes you happy.”
“But don’t tell Cerynus. I don’t think he’d approve.”
“I won’t.”
Ariana finished dressing and as soon as Rua was ready they went to meet the men and go downstairs to dinner. Rua and Cerynus went first. Arm in arm his gray head tilted attentively as she made some jest and looked back meaningfully at Ariana. Ariana almost giggled at the conspiratorial look in her eyes. Jarod and Ariana followed glancing sidelong at each other. Jarod caught her hand and squeezed it. She smiled at him.
They went down into the common room and took a side table near the fire. Ariana and Jarod sat against the wall Cerynus next to the fire and Rua closest to the center of the room. The room was half full. Local guards mingled with seamen and farmers in the smoky taproom. The dark floor was covered in straw and Ariana didn’t look too closely at what crawled in the fibers.
The Heartstone Page 9
