Ke-Tor looked around at the entire area. The Earlstyne was clearly visible across the river, and it now took a much more sinister visage to his eyes as he looked at it warily. From everything he had heard, they were dealing with much more than simple Ulathan farmers and peasants. Someone had clearly underestimated the enemy, and he was sure there was going to be hell to pay.
Khan had woken well before dawn and was relieved to see Dorsun sitting silently, looking out over the river and keeping watch, rapier in his hands sitting across his lap. Dorsun had commented on just how alert he was feeling, and Khan attributed that to the Talaman he had taken.
Soon, when dawn had come, they broke their small camp and headed north. The terrain was not familiar to either of them. “The river is powerful, Master. It must have taken us far downstream,” Dorsun said as they picked their step amongst the roots near the riverbank.
Dorsun had complained once about walking so close to the river, but after a detailed telling of the wild bear and how it had attacked them, Dorsun now seemed amenable to going slower if it kept the forest a bit farther away from them.
After several hours and a small provision break, Khan saw the area looked vaguely familiar and motioned for Dorsun to stop. “I think the bear attacked us just past those trees ahead.” And he motioned to where he was looking. Dorsun nodded, drawing his sword from his belt and walking forward slowly, listening intently for any sign of noise.
It took them nearly ten more minutes to reach the trees and pass through them when they came upon a small clearing on a jut of land and rock that had sprawled out into the river. The deep black pools of dried blood and parts of rotting human flesh demonstrated that this was the same place Khan had come ashore earlier. Khan felt the hope leave his body, however, as he ran over to the exact same place where he last saw his orb and staff. There was nothing near other than a large mass of dried blood where Gund had stood not more than two days earlier.
“What is it, Master?” Dorsun asked, looking around in apprehension.
“My possessions are gone. They were last here, but now I don’t see them. I am defenseless without them.” Khan slumped to the ground and covered his eyes with his arms and hands. He felt hopeless and vulnerable without his staff, and it would take months to fashion a new one, if that was even possible. A wizard put a lot of his soul into his staff when it was made.
“Come, let us leave this area. It smells of death and danger. It is not safe to stay here,” Dorsun said, tugging at Khan’s cloak, urging him to stand and leave.
“What difference does it make?” Khan barked back. “Go on, Dorsun! Leave me and return to Kesh: rejoin your companions there,” Khan said, despair filling his voice.
There were several moments of silence, and Khan sat, much as he had two days before with his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands. Finally, Dorsun spoke. “Where are the bodies, Master?”
Khan looked over at the man and saw him searching around near the forest. He wanted to shout to Dorsun not to enter the forest, but it was too late. Dorsun was looking down intently, following something, and Khan stood and moved to where he had been, looking at the ground as well. Dorsun had disappeared into the same brush where the bear had come from, and Khan was almost paralyzed with fright, but he forced himself to keep moving. There, on the ground very clearly visible, were several small lines of dry blood as if they had been laid there on purpose.
Khan heard the bushes moving about almost violently at one point, but dared not call out. He peered into the heavy brush under a heavy canopy of oak trees and finally saw Dorsun come out, moving branches with his arms and dragging something. When he finally cleared the brush line, Khan saw two packs being dragged with his critir orb in one of Dorsun’s arms, cradled there like a baby no less, and his staff was laid across the hooks of both packs, securing them together. Dorsun stopped, handing the orb to Khan, and then reached back and hefted the metal staff from the packs and offered it as well.
Khan couldn’t believe his eyes. “I thought all was lost!” he finally said, surprised.
“There was a blood trail, Master. It was good of you not to follow. What was left of Gund is back there, deep in the brush, along with most of their gear and your possessions,” Dorsun said, almost scowling.
“Bless you, Dorsun!” Khan exclaimed, holding the staff in his hands again and swinging it from side to side, feeling its weight. “Quickly now, open my pack and grab my scarf.”
Dorsun did as he was told, and Khan wrapped the orb in his scarf and had Dorsun secure it in his pack without taking the pack off. It would be harder to reach for it without taking the pack off. “You are pleased, Master?”
“Most pleased, Mister Dorsun! I feel fate has for once turned for us and not only against us. Remember,” he said, tightening his pack straps to his chest, “I only need you to buy me some time. No need for you to kill anyone, just keep them off of me till I can engage them, agreed?”
“Yes, of course, Master. Do you think we will find anyone alive?”
“We will, Dorsun, we will. Perhaps not right away, but we will. Lead on and stay near the river.” He motioned with his hand to proceed.
The two men then moved away from the killing ground and continued the river upstream. For a long while, they saw nothing, before Dorsun, who was in the lead, pointed across the river again. This time the body looked like Boxer, one of the leaders of the patrols. The brigand had made it to shore only to die there with one bolt and one arrow protruding from his abdomen. His body was just starting to bloat in the sun, but luckily it was still springtime and not too hot in Ulatha yet.
Dorsun nodded and motioned for Khan to follow. After a few more hours, Khan started to think on their plans for the night. “How much further do you want to travel?”
Dorsun stopped, looking around and then back to Khan. “It will get dark in a couple of hours. We don’t really have a tent to set up, nor camp to make, so I think we can safely proceed until dusk. What do you think?”
“Unfortunately, we are on the wrong side of the river,” Khan said with disgust, observing the area as well.
“Wrong side for whom, Master?” And Khan swore Dorsun winked at him.
“What do you mean?” Khan asked.
“Well, you said Gund turned on you after talking to Master Ke-Tor, no?” Khan just nodded. “Then it stands to reason that if we cross any of our company, we may want to discuss the situation with them first so we can understand their frame of mind in this matter. In fact, like the Ulathans before us, we may indeed have good use of the river being placed between them and us. Do you understand me, Master?”
“What does it matter? We are isolated and alone. The river only reinforces that notion.”
“Not as alone as you think, Master.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Khan asked.
“Time will tell, Master. Some of my soldiers may be happy to see me, and you are more appealing to the soldiers than Ke-Tor.”
Khan nodded. “If I did not know better, I would say you are with me and not Ke-Tor. I did not expect your loyalty so easily, Dorsun.”
“Do not be surprised, Master. When it comes to a wizard’s quarrel, we Kesh try to stay out of the way. I would be little use to you against Ke-Tor, but my motivations are done in my own self-interest. Do not mistake my loyalty for weakness. By serving you now, I serve myself and even Kesh.”
Khan was intrigued by where their conversation was going, so he decided to make camp right where they were at. They actually moved another two hundred yards to the north, where there were a few boulders and a small berm or bank that kept them somewhat sheltered and out of sight from the forest and to either side of the shore. They could only be easily spotted from someone on the river or across it.
After breaking out some rations from the packs and taking long swills on their flasks, Khan resumed his conversation with Dorsun. “Tell m
e again, Dorsun, how you serve yourself by serving me. I already told you that swearing allegiance to me would most likely mean your doom. I am a wizard apprentice with no stature in the Arcane Order, an outcast from Kesh, if you will.”
“For now, Master, maybe yes. Yesterday, however, I was prepared for my death. I was only waiting for Father Akun to take me to his abode into the black. I walked amongst my ancestors and felt them ready to embrace me. I was ready for death but did not want it. Then you arrived. You saved me, and as you know, it is our custom to owe a debt to one who has saved our life. I now will repay that debt.”
“Very eloquent for a brigand.” Khan winked as Dorsun looked up in confusion at first. “But answer me my question. What good is your debt if you die in the process?”
Dorsun did smile then, a large toothy smile that belied his many years as a soldier. “Good question . . . wizard.” Now it was his turn to wink back at Khan, who wondered if he was being mocked. “Ke-Tor is one of the most ruthless magicians Kesh has ever encountered. While no wizard is entirely pleasing to deal with, it is doubly the opposite with that one. I would see you succeed in your quest and take Ke-Tor’s place by the Mage’s side. I think you can do this, and I would not be here now to tell you this if not for your magic and . . . well, compassion.”
Khan thought for a moment before responding. “I agree with your assessment of my mentor. Ex-mentor, actually now: however, he is adept at the arcane arts, and his own suspicious nature makes him alert and cautious. There is, however, a weak point in his façade, and his armor is not foolproof. Hubris will be his downfall. I simply need to find a way to take advantage of that fact.”
“You are very wise for one so young,” Dorsun said. Khan looked at the man intently. His face was middle aged, maybe forty-five to fifty at the most, and weathered, as if he had spent most of his adult life outdoors. His eyes gave off a gleam Khan was used to seeing in the brigands of Kesh. A gleam of death and greed, but also there was a faint light of wisdom as well. One did not see Kesh soldiers reach these ages so easily, and the fact he was acting as a lieutenant of a Kesh company spoke volumes to the man’s intelligence and resourcefulness. At least as far as this compared to his fellow Kesh.
“You are surprisingly thoughtful and articulate for a Kesh brigand,” Khan fired back, smiling.
Dorsun chuckled as the sun started to set, and asked, “Do we leave early tomorrow before dawn? Do you have a specific plan, Master?”
Khan looked at the sky as the sun’s rays disappeared from the ground but remained touching the tall oaks and pines of the Earlstyne, giving it a more regal hue than what Khan was thinking of earlier in the day. “We accomplished our two most important tasks.” At this, Dorsun perked up and actually stopped chewing on the dried beef in his mouth for a second to give Khan his undivided attention. “First, we retrieved my possessions from the bear attack and the betrayal by Gund. The man got what he deserved, though I must say that is a terrible way to depart this world. In hindsight, I wonder if he knew he would be giving his life to save mine. I digress, however: the second task was that we survived another day.”
Dorsun looked across the river and back to Khan with his eyes opened wide. “The day isn’t over yet, Master, not over yet.”
Targon informed Elister the night before, and the old man just nodded, sitting on the porch till late into the night, puffing on his pipe and listening to Targon tell him more about the refugees and their sojourn to his home. When Targon tired of speaking, he decided to sleep on the hay in the small barn instead of inside his own home. Besides, feeling that it was crowded and stuffy, he also disliked the loud snores from old man Horace and the occasional nightmare murmuring of Will, who was still dealing with the initial assault, or at least he was doing so in his dreams . . . though nightmares may have been a better choice of words. Marissa had come out once to inform him that they were all retiring for the night, and he had thanked her and remained with Elister.
Upon waking just before dawn and coming out into the cold, brisk air, Targon was surprised to see Elister exactly where he had left him, only now the pipe was put away and the old man was stretching and looking around, occasionally whistling back to the birds that were darting hither and thither in the trees.
“Good morning, Master Terrel,” Elister said with a grin. “Fine morning for a wonderful breakfast, but alas, I fear we will have no rest with our guests so close.”
Targon walked over, stretching as well and moving his arms wildly about to circulate his blood and warm up a bit. He could just see his breath in the morning air. “Agreed, Elister. My mother would have been awake already and had eggs cooking on the pan with a dab of bacon grease and potatoes in another skillet while my sister, Ann, would have had fresh milk on the table by now.” Targon smiled back.
Soon, the others started to awaken, and several moved down to Bony Brook to wash their hands and faces, while others used water from the night before in the lone basin inside the cabin. Breakfast consisted of some boiled potatoes and cabbage, ever so lightly seasoned with sage and salt. Olga must be conserving our meager supply, thought Targon.
Finally, as the sun was getting much higher, the need to depart grew more urgent. There was quite the commotion they had come to expect as Emelda wept and sobbed and hugged poor Horace, who said he thought he’d die first from his wife’s grief before he had even shot a single bolt.
Lady Salina and her son Cedric had stepped down to the end of the porch, and unheard words were passed between mother and son. Karz also ran up and hugged Cedric intensely as the family said their good-byes.
Monique approached Targon, holding out his Clairton bird carving he had given her the day before when she had asked him for it. She had taken off her small amulet charm and used her silver necklace to attach the carving to it, and Targon lowered his head as she adorned it around his neck. “For luck, and to remember us and your mother,” she said, a rare smile appearing on her face.
Targon held the carving out in his hand as far as the chain would allow. “I am honored,” he said, admiring her handiwork. A silver necklace was nothing to trifle with, and he knew it meant a lot, not only being valuable but sentimental to Monique. “I will return it to you when we come back.”
“Keep it till you are reunited with your mother, and let it always remind you of why you fight,” Monique said, blushing and then, just as quickly, she embraced him and kissed him on the cheek and then stepped back with her head down and her face red.
“What did I tell ya? Too much smooching going on around here! Now you just make sure you return, young man, and bring them others with you,” Agatha said, mocking the gesture but not too harshly.
“Oh, let them be, you old hag!” Will said, scorning as he did so.
“How dare you talk to me that way, Master Will, especially after all that tending I had done for you and your poor arm.”
“Now, Agatha, Will is just saying let them be. ’Tis natural for the young folk to feel passionate one toward the other,” Horace said, half chuckling.
“Well, you can show a bit more passion this way, my dear!” Emelda said, grabbing Horace and wiping her tears on his tunic while burying her head in his chest again.
Horace embraced her as best he could one-handed while he kept the crossbow pointed up. Targon swore the weapon and the man’s arm had most likely become one, fused together by sheer will. “Elister, you ready to go, sir?”
Elister walked over from the porch where he had remained seated all morning and stood amongst the group outside in the clearing off the front of the cabin. Salina, Karz, and Cedric had all walked over from the south end of the porch, and they stood together looking at Targon. “Ready as ever, Master Terrel.”
The group said their final good-byes. Targon followed Elister, who started out at a brisk pace for an old man, and the others hurried to keep up. Elister led, and then came Targon, Cedric, and Horace while Will Carvel b
rought up the rear. They could still hear Emelda sobbing as they walked out of sight.
They took only one break in order to drink and had only a few apples to eat that Elister had brought with him. They walked mainly in silence, but after some time when Targon had reckoned they were nearing his family’s hunting blind, they stopped and he heard Elister hoot like an owl. The sound was odd because it was full day and most owls were resting in the hollows of the forest’s trees. After a few minutes of everyone looking around to see if an owl would actually hoot back or fly over, they were not so surprised to see Elister’s falcon wing down from above and land on Elister’s outright arm.
“Can you believe that!” Horace said, shaking his head, and Will nodded in agreement.
“Where did you say they were? Ah hah, I see, Argyll, very good. Yes, thank you, I will most certainly take care of the situation. Yes. Of course, if you don’t mind, and do tell that stubborn ursine he can rejoin us at any time: he needn’t do all the protecting himself. Most appreciated, my winged friend, and fair flight to you and yours, then. Yes, I’ll be there waiting for you.” Then suddenly, the bird took flight and disappeared to the south while Horace murmured under his breath and shook his head.
“It appears the smaller party of unwelcome guests has taken up camp about a half hour’s walk south of here on the other side of the river in the same location as your original group, Master Targon,” Elister said.
“Do we engage?” Targon asked apprehensively.
“Most certainly. A Mage is not welcome in the Earlstyne and could wake the guardian before his time.”
“That would be bad?” Targon ventured, letting the last word linger.
Ranger Rising: Claire-Agon Ranger Book 1 (Ranger Series) Page 29
