“Yes. My name is Arith.”
Lifston nodded in silence a moment, then motioned for Arith to follow him back inside the café.
As Ynelza busied herself preparing the outside seating area, allowing her to watch for any other intruders, Lifston began brewing tea. “Tell me about yourself,” he said curtly to Arith.
“I hail from the city proper. I’m staying with my friend Ampal and his family.” Arith thought perhaps the mention of Ampal’s name would lessen the tension. It did not.
Lifston merely stopped his work and gave Arith a harsh look. “And?” he prodded.
Arith tilted his head and contemplated the man across the counter from him. Plintes were fiercely loyal to Anyamae and since Lifston’s son had been marked, sharing information about the undergrounders should be safe. “And I’m the leader of a group of fighters that stand for Anyamae. Ampal belongs to our group. We try to protect those in need.”
Lifston nodded once and returned to his tasks. “My son, Azetan, journeyed to the city a few days ago.”
“Yes, I know,” Arith confirmed. “Ampal, another undergrounder, and I, plus four marked ones, discovered him in the western alleys. He fought three Graeliths single-handedly with another three prepared to join the fight. We stood with him and defeated the Graeliths.”
Again, Lifston nodded. “Then you are one of those that helped my son. Thank you. Tren, the Liput in town, is the father of Tip. I assume you met Tip, as well?”
Arith absorbed this information. So the Liput was Tip’s father. His suspicions had been correct. Lifston was well informed, but what was the source of his information? Surely not Tren. Arith was eager to learn more. He wanted to keep Lifston talking. “Tip was one of the four, though he didn’t fight with your son that evening. He had suffered a serious injury at the hands of a Graelith not two days before and was still weak.”
“That’s consistent with all Tren shared with me. He received information from a Sharmuse representing Anyamae. The marked ones navigated the alleys with the help of the Hurfen boy here in town, crossed the river, and were traveling with the Lady’s men.”
A Sharmuse sent by Anyamae? Then she was indeed directing these events for some reason. Arith was pleased to hear the marked ones had found their way. He smiled at the news. “We left them in the western alleyways. We were unaware they had reached the Lady’s men. I appreciate the news. I wondered why the Hurfen was here.”
“This is a topic of much discussion in town, as no one remembers a Hurfen ever visiting before. I haven’t spoken to the boy, but his courage is already well-respected, despite the fact most know nothing of his heroic deeds assisting the marked ones.”
“Remarkable,” Arith added. “I’ve met many a Hurfen in my day, as I grew up in the western part of the city with them. They rarely possess such courage. Perhaps I can speak with him.”
“Not to worry. They’ll be arriving here shortly.”
“Who?” Arith asked, surprised.
“All of them — the Hurfen, Tren, the Sharmuse, and the two Humans. Plus my dear friend Rinald, a Krystic. His daughter, Prizene, traveled with Tip. I’m guessing you met her, too?”
“Yes. Wicked with a sword.”
Lifston laughed. “She always was a bit feisty for a Krystic. Unfortunately, we never had the chance to introduce the kids before they were marked. Amazing they ended up as companions.”
Arith doubted there was anything amazing about it. Anyamae, he was convinced, was the key.
Lifston continued, “We agreed to meet this morning before others woke to minimize suspicion. Rinald is staying in a spare house we own. He should be along shortly.”
As if on cue, the door opened and Rinald entered. He looked warily at Arith, until Lifston calmed him with a raised hand and introduced them. Once Rinald caught wind of Arith’s involvement, he enthusiastically shook his hand.
“Thank you for helping Prizene,” Rinald said. “She’s such a strong-headed, independent child. I’m surprised she turned to anyone for help.”
Arith laughed. “That description sounds about right. You can imagine my shock when she detailed the exact weapon she preferred to use.”
Rinald shook his head, but there was no disguising the pride he felt for his daughter. “We tried to stop her. Told her not to practice fighting, but she snuck around us and did so anyway. Anyamae was right. Prizene chose this future.” He turned the cup Lifston placed before him in his hands. “I just want to ensure she’s successful. I’ll do anything to help her.”
Arith was about to reply when the door opened again to reveal Tren and the Hurfen. Before they could finish introductions, the two Humans arrived carrying a purple bird in a cage. The woman, Isabelle, introduced herself and the others. Arith had heard of the Sharmuses, but watched in amazement as the little bird was let out of the cage and promptly shifted into a small Human-like being. Each shared information they had regarding both the marked ones and Anyamae. Arith was particularly interested in the news Kalangia carried, though it merely confirmed what he already suspected.
Arith turned to Jurf. “Thank you for helping Kenrya and the others. The alleys in the western part of the city have long been treacherous for the marked ones to navigate. Your courage is admirable.”
“Happy to help.” Jurf looked down and blushed lightly, then raised his eyes to meet Arith’s. “The Graeliths killed another Hurfen boy that night. They confused him with me, I think, and I couldn’t help him. I never knew about the marked ones losing their way in my neighborhood. No one ever speaks of the marked. Parents just hope their children can escape it. I probably could have helped others, if I had known. I have no regret about helping Kenrya and the others, though I do feel guilty about the boy.” Jurf fiddled with his hands, then burst out, “I hoped maybe I could help you in your efforts against the Tyrnotts.” He swallowed when Arith looked at him and words tumbled out of his mouth. “I’m not much of a fighter, but I’m sure I could learn. Prizene and Azetan told me about your group and Prizene even gave me the money to travel here to find you.”
Arith heard Tren draw in a breath. Tren stood and walked over to stand behind Jurf, placing his hand on Jurf’s shoulder — the hand of a protective father. Their relationship intrigued Arith. Liputs usually had multiple children, yet Tren had practically adopted Jurf as a surrogate.
Before Arith could respond, however, Rinald jumped in. “Prizene suggested you travel here?”
“Well,” Jurf explained, “Prizene and Azetan together suggested it. I was going to travel by foot until Prizene offered me the coins. Your daughter is very kind.”
Rinald’s eyes moistened. He didn’t seem to know what to say.
Arith had already concluded that Jurf would be a strong addition to the undergrounders. Assigning him to help marked ones in the western part of the city was ideal. He rose from his stool and stood facing Jurf, holding out his hand. When Jurf grasped it, Arith said “Welcome to the undergrounders.”
Jurf jumped out of his chair still holding Arith’s hand. “Really? Just like that?”
Arith placed his left hand on Jurf’s shoulder. “Just like that. Many marked ones perish in the alleys in the western part of the city. Your knowledge of those streets is invaluable, though I warn you, the job will be dangerous. We’ll teach you to defend yourself and others and perhaps you can assist us in guiding marked ones through the city.”
“Great!” Jurf exclaimed, rubbing his hands together. “I can travel with you whenever you’re ready to leave.”
Arith smiled at Jurf’s enthusiasm. “We’ll depart in a few days, after the funeral.”
As several separate conversations started, Tren approached Arith and said, “Thank you for accepting Jurf. I was afraid you might turn him away. He has a good heart and strong courage, but I fear he’s naive.”
Arith reassured Tren, “I was once young, too. I remember the strong desire to help. He has much to learn and may stumble at first, but will definitely be an asset.” He paused for a moment. “I was su
rprised to find a marked Liput. How did your community react to his marking?”
Tren explained, “When my first son was marked, the town was horrified. My second son’s marking was still a shock, but they weren’t as surprised. By the time Tip’s birthday arrived, everyone assumed he would be marked. I tried to prepare him. That was difficult to do since we couldn’t ask for help.”
“Three of your children have been marked?” Isabelle asked as she joined their conversation.
Tren replied, “We only had three. Each has been marked.”
“Unusual,” Isabelle said in a quiet voice as she mulled it over. “I’ve never known Anyamae to mark more than one child per family.”
“One child?” Tren’s jaw dropped open. “We just assumed it was commonplace for multiple children to be marked.” Arith shook his head to confirm what Isabelle said. Tren just stared at them in bewilderment. “I don’t understand.”
Arith was beginning to understand Tren’s relationship with Jurf. Tren had three sons, all marked and forced by their community to leave home. Tren had adopted Jurf in place of his children. But why would Anyamae mark all three of his children?
“What happened to your other two sons?” Isabelle asked Tren.
“My eldest son was killed two days after the elders forced him from town. We received no news regarding my second son, so we don’t know whether or not he lives.”
“I met a second marked Liput some years ago,” Arith told him. “I don’t know if he was your son or not.”
Tren looked at Arith dumbfounded. He shook his head as if to clear his ears and said, “Did you say you met another marked Liput?”
“Yes,” Arith replied hesitantly.
Tren’s reaction was stronger than he expected and loud enough to disrupt the conversation between the others. They now turned their attention to Tren, who threw his arms around Arith. He took a step back, grabbed Arith’s shoulders, and excitedly asked, “When? Was he all right? Tell me about him, all you can!”
Arith was startled by the reaction. “He was fine. He managed to find his way to the city without incident. We accompanied him to the western edge of the city and he continued on from there. Why?”
“The only Liputs ever marked were my sons,” Tren said gleefully. “The boy you met was Tip’s older brother, Sri.”
Isabelle placed an arm around Tren’s shoulders and gave him a hug. “If he made it to the city, I’d bet he made it to the camp.”
Tren beamed at her. Then his eyebrows knitted together as he pondered, “I wonder why Anyamae marked all three of my sons. You said it was unusual?” he asked Isabelle and she confirmed this again with a nod. “She must have had a reason.” He looked questioningly at Arith.
Arith drew in a deep breath as he considered the question. Should he share his thoughts? How would Tren react? He looked at Tren and the desperation in the man’s eyes was more than he could bear. Good or bad, he had to know. “I can think of only one reason why she might mark all three. Tell me, does Tip possess any unusual skills?”
Tren answered easily, “My family works on machines. We always have and we’re better than most. But Tip possesses greater ability than any other Liput past or present. But why would that matter?” As he finished the question, a look of realization crossed his face. “Unless … she needs Tip and she needed him to be prepared. If Tip had been the only son marked, he would have had no preparation at all and likely wouldn’t have survived.” Arith nodded, indicating this was indeed what he believed. Tren stammered, his face turning red, “You mean my son … my eldest … was sacrificed so that Tip would survive!”
He seemed to be talking to himself. He paced back and forth in quick, short strides, throwing his hands into the air. The others moved out of his way. After a few moments, Arith was about to reach out to him when Tren pulled himself together, the color receding from his face.
“She must have had a reason. Must have.” He stopped pacing. “I believe in Anyamae. I don’t believe she would sacrifice my child needlessly.” His words spoke reason, though his voice betrayed him. Arith suspected Tren would never come to terms with something that justified the death of his first-born son? Tren wiped his brow. He turned his eyes toward Arith. “For what purpose could she need Tip’s skills?”
“I don’t know,” Arith replied quietly. “We’ll have to let events unfold to discover the answer, as I’m sure Anyamae would provide it if it were that simple.” Tren seemed to accept this, at least for the moment. How could he be so rational given the circumstances?
Arith turned to the others and continued once they had quieted: “We must be cautious. The messages from Anyamae make it clear that she believes something is going to happen. She selected your children and brought them together for a reason. What that reason is, we don’t yet know, but we must be prepared. Let us reflect on these events over the next few days and meet again in the future. Until then, we will honor Ishta and those who have fallen before her.”
They all nodded in solemn agreement and one by one, they filed out of the café, leaving Lifston and his daughter to continue preparing for the day’s business.
*******
Archt casually leaned against the side of a house near the café in the center of Banston. While his reputation as a trader was mixed, at best, he could easily travel to any community on Zolei without question. Based on information provided by Natal, he had rented a room near the house where the Krystic male was staying. The man was cautious, but obviously not skilled at evading someone trained in the art of surveillance.
Several individuals had entered the café after the Krystic, which was odd given the early hour. The purple bird intrigued him. Luckily he caught a glimpse of it shifting into a small creature through the window — a Sharmuse outside the palace was most unusual indeed. Archt had studied each face as they approached the entrance. He saw the world in pictures, in images. After looking at a man for not more than ten seconds, he could describe nearly every line and hair on the individual’s face. Natal paid him handsomely for this skill.
After rubbing several of the tubes fanning out from the opening on the side of his head, he then aimed that side of his head in the direction of the café. He had positioned himself just out of view of anyone leaving the café, but would risk peering around the house for an additional glimpse of each person departing the meeting.
What would Natal think about the presence of the Sharmuse? The corners of Archt’s mouth curled up slightly. How many coins was this information worth?
Chapter 69
While they heard the Graeliths, the marked ones were able to maintain enough distance between them that they weren’t yet visible. Eros and Tip led the group and Prizene trailed behind a little, allowing her to better hear the Graeliths’ advance.
Eros kept them moving in the direction he remembered traveling with his mother, hoping his recollections were accurate. He dared not think about the outcome if his mother hadn’t actually been showing him the training camp entrance. He had been young at the time, but certainly old enough to handle a difficult journey with her assistance. They had camped several nights in the forest. His mother had shared tales of the Humans in their old home world. He loved those stories and could listen to them over and over.
He turned his thoughts back to the path. He remembered walking through the dense forest, climbing a wall of rocks, then stopping in a very dark area surrounded by lush forest plants. The dark area extended through the forest with high rock walls on each side. They had traveled a fair distance, then turned back and gone home. The entrance must be somewhere in that darkened ravine. He also remembered Arith’s directions, which ended within the small mountain chain. Since they left Sah, the ground had been continually rising. Between that, the trip with his mother, and the compass, he was convinced they were headed in the right direction.
Kenrya walked behind him. She certainly smelled better, but there was still a certain ripe, lingering aroma. Never before had he met a female like her. Hopef
ully once they arrived at the camp, she would bathe properly with soap. Technically, he still owed her a debt. Azetan rescued her when she fell into the river and Tip heroically ran through the forest, carrying the message that prevented her from being swallowed whole by Sah. Eros glanced back at her and their eyes met briefly before he looked forward again. Something about Kenrya nagged at him. Why did his thoughts always return to her? What was it about her? He didn’t wish danger upon her, but once he settled the debt, perhaps his focus would change.
Eros cursed himself silently for losing focus again. Maybe they could train separately at the camp. Distance might help.
As the trees grew large and less cumbersome, the marked ones journeyed through this part of the forest with greater ease. While the distance from the Graeliths hadn’t increased, neither had they drawn closer throughout the morning.
Eros’s gaze darted in all directions as he confirmed time and again that the path remained the same as he remembered. They would soon find the rock wall with the small path leading to its top. Little rocks covered the path and larger rocks loosened easily. The effort required caution and skill to prevent one of them being injured by a falling rock as the Graeliths at their backs afforded them no time to climb the wall one by one. As they walked, Eros told the group exactly what to expect.
After listening, Prizene suggested, “Could we prepare traps on the path? Tip, remember that contraption you created by the river? Could you build something that could allow us to push a rock over the side if the Graeliths come too close?”
“Good idea,” Azetan agreed. “I can help by lifting the rocks.”
When Tip said nothing, Prizene tried again, “Tip? Are you okay?”
Azetan nudged him from behind.
“What?” Tip turned sharply, eyes wide. “I was thinking.”
“About what?”
“Traps. Isn’t that what you said?”
Prizene chuckled. “Yes, traps. You were so quiet we didn’t know if you heard us.”
The Journey of the Marked (The Miyran Heir Book 1) Page 28
