“I’m amazed they managed to last this long,” said Trion, eating a piece of cheese while they waited for Ariel to return.
The door burst open and two people rushed through, while Ariel fended off their pursuers. Then, she stepped through and barred the door.
“You and I have work to do, Joshuas. Can the three of you handle these two?” she asked Trion, Daina and Cephom.
“They’ve already been healed. I should go with you,” replied Trion.
“Let us protect the city from the fear spell first,” said Ariel. “Then the three of you can get to work.”
Daina and Cephom nodded. Trion wanted to argue, but thought better of it.
“Ready?” Ariel asked Joshuas. He nodded drawing his sword. Ariel shook her head. “I’ll protect you, you protect the city.” Joshuas put his sword away and waited for Ariel’s signal. At her command, they ran out the door and into the middle of a fear crazed mob.
Ariel began to beat them back, taking care not to kill them. Several lay dazed at her feet by the time Joshuas began to speak his spell of protection. He could hear the enemy react to the magic as well as those within the city. As the protection grew stronger with each repetition of the spell, those who hadn’t reached Ariel yet, began to grow calmer. But Ariel continued to knock them to the ground. Soon, all the men of Barat who’d come after them were lying unconscious at their feet.
“Now you can come, Trion,” Ariel called to those inside. Daina, Cephom and Trion went work on those men on the ground. While they were working, Ariel and Joshuas sank to the stoop and rested.
“I wasn’t expecting to be greeted quite this way,” said Joshuas, as they watched the healers moving from man to man.
“Nor should you have been, Joshuas Greyanson,” said a voice from behind them.
Joshuas rose quickly to his feet and bowed. “I didn’t see you there, my lord.”
Ariel was slower getting to her feet. “Duke Donnegal,” she said, bowing slightly. “I’m Ariel, Solein’s Warrior.”
“Well met, my lady. Any friend of Joshuas is a friend here in Barat.” He turned back to Joshuas. “I’d hoped we could hold out until you arrived,” said Jonas, looking over his men. “Even with Cephom and Daina helping, we didn’t make it.”
“Why did you put those who could help you in the dungeon?” asked Ariel.
“They’d worked until their strength was gone. I was afraid for them, so I put them where I knew they’d be safe. I gave them food and water, and hoped you’d come.”
“Why didn’t Cephom cast a spell of protection?” asked Joshuas. “I know he’s a crafter.”
“He can’t,” said Ariel. “He can’t interfere in the affairs of men. He can heal and guide, but he can’t use his magic.”
“How do you know this? You haven’t even met him,” said Joshuas.
“I have known him all my life,” said Ariel. “He,” she pointed at Cephom, “is Sylph.”
“One of Jovan’s crafters,” said Jonas, “here in my city?” I’ve had him doing menial chores,” he lamented.
“I’m sure he didn’t mind,” said Ariel, smiling.
The three healers fell silent, heads bowed, trying to regain their strength. Joshuas retrieved his pack and divided up his remaining supplies. The healers ate quickly with the need to fill a void. When Ariel offered her supplies, they’d begun to taste the food. Once he was stronger, Sylph rose to his feet. “Ariel, Trion, I’m so pleased to see you. I had hoped Joshuas could save you.” He wrapped first one and then the other in an engulfing hug.
“I thought it must be you who sent him,” said Trion, brushing his hair from his face wearily.
“I’m afraid I couldn’t save any of the others,” said Joshuas, sadly.
“I didn’t think you could, Joshuas. But there is always hope.”
“So there is,” replied Trion. Then he turned to Jonas. “Are there others who need our help?”
“We have them locked in the barracks,” replied the Duke, pointing toward a long, low building to their right.
Trion nodded and helped Daina to her feet. “My lady,” he bowed, letting her lead the way. “A healer’s work is never done.”
Joshuas ran to her side before she could disappear and gave her a hug. “Since everyone is giving hugs,” he said. “I’m glad to see you safe.”
“And I’m glad to see you survived and succeeded, I hope.”
“Yes, succeeded. We’ll talk when you finish what you need to do. Would you like me to help?”
“No, this is fairly easy to heal. But I would love more food and perhaps some wine?” Daina gave him a cheeky smile.
“I’ll see what I can scavenge,” promised Joshuas, stopping and letting her continue on with Trion.
“Who’s she?” Ariel asked Jonas, watching them walk off.
“Queen Daina of Dirth. Well, of Menas now, I suppose. Also, she’s a great seer. But when Cephom asked her to come and help us, she did.”
“What is she to Joshuas?”
“That was my question, too,” replied the Duke.
Joshuas walked back to where Ariel and Jonas were standing. “They want more food.”
“There’s some in the store house, unless we’ve been too far gone to replenish it. I’ll walk with you.” Jonas stepped off the stoop and moving among his men laying on the ground, he started down the street. Barat was not a large city, but neither was it small. It had walls, guards and several streets of shops and businesses. Jonas led them down the main thoroughfare, turning to the left at the second cross street. The storehouse stood open, but to Joshuas’ relief, it was still stocked with supplies. Finding bread, meat, vegetables and the wine Daina requested, they started back toward the barracks.
“This Daina,” said Ariel abruptly. “What’s she to you, Joshuas?”
Joshuas was surprised at the abruptness of the question. “Family, or close enough to call her that. My adopted son’s fiancé before he died.”
Ariel nodded, relaxing along with Jonas. Joshuas noticed their reactions. “Why?” he asked.
Jonas reddened and Ariel looked away. “No particular reason. It’s just that–,” Ariel turned back to face him. “You belong to someone else.”
That hadn’t been an answer Joshuas had been expecting. He was almost afraid to ask her how she knew. So far, she’d been right about everything she’d stated in this manner. But he asked anyway. “Who might that be, Ariel?”
“Don’t you know yet?” she asked in surprise. Joshuas frowned and fell silent. He knew he shouldn’t have asked. Of course, he knew. Now it seemed, so did she.
CHAPTER 31
“Faster, my lady, they’re practically upon us.” Erion held his hand out to help Leilas up the rocky crag. A half-dozen darklings were quickly closing the gap between them. Leilas was doing her best to keep up with the elf, but she wasn’t as quick or as nimble as Erion, or her pursuers. The darklings had been following them since they’d left the Temple of Crog, but up until this morning, they’d been content just to follow.
“I’m moving as fast as I can,” she gasped as she scaled the rocky incline. “Why choose to come after us now?” She pulled herself up to the next level, not taking the time to check on the darklings’ progress. She could tell from Erion’s voice she was quickly being overtaken.
“I couldn’t say, my lady. Something has changed.” Erion hoisted her up then easily pulled himself up the rock face. They were on the fringes of the Sea Witches in Sylphia, heading for the pass when the darklings had begun to gain on them. Erion had immediately turned to the cliffs, hoping they could lose them on the perilous climb. Although a few had stayed at the base, the majority were scampering the rock faces like mountain goats. Leilas knew they would have to stand and fight as soon as they gained the top, if she made it to the top.
The first of the pursuers grabbed at her leg as she rolled onto the top of the cliff and onto her feet. She kicked his hand free, and grabbed her battleaxe. She was standing ready when the first darkli
ng crested the cliff.
Although she had the advantage, she hesitated to kill a man, no matter how evil his intention, who was unarmed and defenseless. The darkling, however, had no such compunction. As soon as he was standing, his sword was drawn and he was hurtling toward Leilas. Swinging her axe, she caught his blow and deflected it, catching his arm a glancing blow on the back stroke. Then she found herself facing four heavily armed darklings. Erion was in the same predicament. They’d been here before and come out the victors, but Leilas wasn’t sure that would be the case this time.
Did their leader want them dead or did he want prisoners? Leilas deflected another near miss and caught one of the darklings in the thigh. They appeared to be fighting cautiously and Leilas decided they were to be taken prisoner. But who had sent them? And why was he so intent on finding them? Unless it was Rengailai, why would anyone care about a lone crafter and elf traveling through Crogmanland and Sylphia?
Step by step, the darklings were backing them up toward another cliff wall. They fought as well as their full-blooded brother elves and Leilas could feel herself growing weary. Of all the people here, she was the one seriously out-manned. Stepping back again, she slipped on the loose gravel and went to her knee. Her opponent took the opportunity and placed his sword against her neck. So, she’d been right, they didn’t want to kill them. Erion looked in her direction and dropped his sword, raising his hands. The darklings surrounding him looked as if they would have liked to finish the fight, but they refrained.
The darkling holding Leilas pulled her to her feet. “My master wants to see you.” Pulling her pack off her back, they rummaged through it and grunted in satisfaction when they found the orb and the shaft. Placing them back in the sack, they kept it in their possession. They didn’t force Leilas to attempt a downward climb on the cliffs. Instead, they headed for the Merchant’s Highroad. Leilas was sweating from the exertion of keeping up when they finally reached the pass that crossed the Sea Witch Mountains. She’d expected them to head back toward Glorian, but instead, they headed up the mountain pass, toward the city of Jovan’s End. It was said the land on the Western side of the Sea Witches was Jovan’s and very few had ventured beyond the foot of the mountain range. Other than being a prisoner and not having the pieces of the staff in her possession, Leilas was content to let the darklings lead her across the pass. They weren’t being cruel and hadn’t bound them or kept her from talking to Erion. The Temple of Sylph lay over these peaks and it was a relief not to have to stay one step ahead of these men all the time. She wasn’t certain Erion felt the same. A look of grim determination had settled on his face and remained there since the battle. It couldn’t be easy to acquiesce to his sworn enemy, when he could easily escape and disappear into the mountains. The darklings might even appreciate it if he did. She doubted they were happy having to deal with an elf, especially a light elf. They wouldn’t kill him unless he gave them just cause. Leilas knew that as long as she was alive, Erion wouldn’t give them a reason.
They allowed her a few moments rest before they continued up the mountain pass. The darklings moved quickly and she was hard pressed to keep pace. Even when the light faded into evening, they kept moving. Soon, Leilas was stumbling with fatigue. She wasn’t an elf or darkling and she wasn’t used to the thin air of the mountains. Still, she didn’t ask them to stop. She would have appreciated some of the jerky in her pack, but it was in the possession of the darkling leader.
Stumbling in the dark, she pitched forward and landed on her hands and knees on the dirt path. The leader of the darklings muttered an oath and brought the group to a halt. Erion was at her side as soon as she’d fallen, unstopping his water skin and giving her a drink. “You should have said you needed a rest,” he chided her, giving her some of his food.
“Like our darkling leader up there would have cared,” replied Leilas. She hadn’t tried to regain her feet. Instead, she sat in the middle of the road and chewed the jerked venison Erion had offered her.
The darklings stood several feet away and whispered among themselves, but unlike her previous captors, they respected her privacy and didn’t punish Erion for taking care of her needs. “He would have stopped,” said Erion, looking in the direction of the half-elves. “He might not have liked it, but he would have stopped.”
“I’ll remember that next time. How far have we come?” She peered into the darkness, trying to pinpoint where they were.
“We’re about halfway up the pass. It’s fortunate they are headed in the direction we wished to travel.”
“I was thinking much the same,” replied Leilas. “My only concern is that they have the pieces of the staff. They’re useless in their present state, but so are the last two pieces without the ones we’ve already retrieved.”
“I’m working on that problem,” replied Erion. “Let’s get over the pass first.”
“My thoughts exactly,” said Leilas. “Getting over the pass will be much easier now that we’re not being dogged.”
“Just don’t underestimate them, or the person who sent them to find us, replied Erion. “Obviously, they’ve had some type of magical help or else I would have lost them.”
Leilas smiled at his confidence, though she had no doubt had he been on his own, he’d have lost their pursuers. It seemed she was always putting her companions in danger. Should she have asked Erion to come with her? Had she just been satisfying her selfishness wanting his company? She shrugged off the question. It was too late now to reconsider.
“You’ve rested long enough,” said the leader. “We need to reach Jovan’s End before the third day is gone.”
Leilas sighed and rose tiredly. “I’ll do my best, but I’m not an elf. I do need food, water and rest.”
“You’re a crafter. You can travel almost as well as an elf,” replied the leader. “We’ve traveled with your kind before.”
Perhaps they knew something about crafters she didn’t know. Because she hadn’t felt rested and well fed in so long she couldn’t remember the last time. They were in the wilderness region of Sylphia. There hadn’t been any cities or towns to visit and enjoy a hot meal from the inn. Each day, she felt more tired and more hungry. She was traveling on sheer willpower. So, how was she supposed to keep up with elves who could travel for weeks without feeling fatigue or hunger? Gidron had never told her about any secret spell that gave her extra energy.
At the thought of her previous master, a strange feeling came over her. All at once, it made sense. The feelings in the forest, the reason the darklings hadn’t killed her. She knew who they were going to see. She also knew that they needed to escape before they rendezvoused with Gidron Frey.
She tried to get Erion’s attention without attracting the attention of the darklings. It took several tries as Erion was quite far ahead of her. Luckily, the darklings preferred to travel together, leaving their two prisoners to travel together. They doubted she would get far should she try to escape. “Erion,” she hissed a little louder. This time she saw him tip his head slightly. He slowed imperceptibly until he was almost even with her.
“Leilas?” he answered her call.
“They are taking us to Gidron. We can’t meet him.”
“I, for one, am looking forward to meeting him,” replied Erion, fiercely. “He has a great deal to answer for. I haven’t forgotten the scene in the Forest of Furlin.”
“Nor have I,” said Leilas glancing ahead to the darklings, making sure they weren’t interested in their conversation. “But this isn’t the time to confront him. I don’t have all I need to be able to defeat him.” Erion turned his head to face her at this admission. “If I meet him now, I’ll die and won’t complete my task.”
Erion sighed. “I thought you’d be able to face him. But I understand that it’s more important to do what Sylph has instructed you to do. That leaves us with the problem of retrieving your pack from formidable foes who’ll be expecting us to try and steal it and then evade them in these mountains when this pass is
the only way across them.”
It didn’t escape Leilas’ notice that he didn’t include killing their captors as an option. He was an elf and they did have a code by which they lived. So, they would have to evade them or overcome them and incapacitate them. The only question was how and when. She had no idea where Gidron Frey was waiting. Only that they were to meet him in less than two days. Could they afford to wait until they were near Jovan’s End or did they need to flee as soon as possible?
The questions quickly became moot. The darklings veered off the road and led them to a small clearing. Waiting there for them were six more darklings and two captives. Leilas studied them, without appearing to be interested in them. Erion was listening to the conversation between the two groups of half-elves. Their fellow prisoners were a young man dressed in messenger garb and an elderly looking dwarf. The dwarf was eying the axe that was hanging from one of the darklings’ belts.
“Sit down there,” one of the darklings pointed to a spot near the young messenger. “I’ll bring you something to eat.” Leilas obediently sat next to the young man. She could see that the other two prisoners were bound. It appeared the dwarf and messenger didn’t have anything that would keep them bound to the darklings.
“I’m Leilas,” she said, sitting next to the young man. His eyes opened wide at her name. The dwarf just snorted. “We seem to be in the same predicament.”
“I don’t see that you are in our situation,” growled the dwarf. “Our hands are tied and they haven’t offered us anything to eat in days, just water to drink.”
“Nonetheless, we’re prisoners,” said Leilas, ignoring the urge to unbind them. She didn’t need the darklings making it more difficult for her to escape.
“I’ve heard of you,” said the messenger, “in my master’s house.”
“Who’s your master?” asked Leilas.
The dwarf frowned at his companion, but the young man ignored him. He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Adrian Cheran. I was on a mission for him when I was captured by the dwarves. Now I’m obligated to them until we find what I helped them lose.”
First Comes The One Who Wanders Page 51
