The Key of Amatahns

by Elisabeth Wheatley

Chapter Five

  She should have left when Karile was still hanging from the tree. That was all Janir could think about as the day wore on and on.

  As if the world owed him something, he complained at every opportunity. He claimed the sun was too bright, riding the horse was too bumpy, the birds were too loud, the hills too steep, for a time he even fixated on Saoven being too ugly to accompany them.

  That was where Janir took the most offense. Though she’d never told a soul, she’d long thought Saoven quite handsome.

  The midday sun was beating down on them and the wooded hills had long since grown into mountains. The trees were scrunched close together on either side of the little group, almost forming a wall to enclose them. The path they followed was narrow, probably made by deer and other game. Grass grew so close to the path that the horses’ legs brushed it with each step.

  “Can we stop?” Karile whined.

  “No,” Janir retorted.

  “My bottom hurts from this saddle and I think I’m getting blisters in some rather unseemly places.”

  “Shut up!”

  For several strides of the horse, Karile was silent.

  “Can we…”

  Janir lost control of her temper and elbowed him as hard as she could.

  “Ouch!” Karile screamed.

  “Karile,” Saoven called back from his place in front of them, “if you refuse to cease antagonizing the lady, you will be forced to walk.”

  “Lady?” Karile mockingly asked. “What lady? I don’t see any lady, just this…thing.”

  Janir growled unintelligibly.

  “A lady would apologize for elbowing me,” Karile whined.

  Gritting her teeth, Janir decided it was the fastest way to silence him. “I apologize for hitting you, Karile.”

  “Well at last she apologizes! You know that’s the first—”

  “Silence!” Saoven hissed abruptly.

  “Oh, no. Not you, too!”

  Saoven turned a menacing glare in the direction of Karile and the young enchanter decided to obey.

  They halted in a small clearing, no more than three sword lengths wide. The elf sat perched on his mare, listening intently. Silent as an owl landing in a tree, Saoven swung off his horse and briefly motioned that they were to stay where they were. He slipped between two saplings and vanished into the greenery. Janir could feel Kalbo tensing. Whatever it was, the stallion sensed it, too.

  Once Saoven was presumably out of earshot, Karile could barely contain his excitement. “What do you think it is?” His voice had a childlike eagerness to it.

  “Saoven will tell us when he returns.” Janir was quite content to let Saoven do the scouting.

  Karile fidgeted, but must have decided that he would rather not risk a fall from Kalbo’s towering height. He held onto Janir’s waist and contented himself with humming and squirming like a child.

  In front of them, Saoven’s mare swished her tail calmly. Small white ears flicked, listening for the return of her master. Eventually, the mare dropped her head and tore up a mouthful of tender shoots, but not once did she move to stray from the path.

  After a few moments, Janir had to resist the urge to squirm along with Karile. She looked up at the sky, counting the fluffy white outlines of clouds.

  A flash of motion caught her eye as Saoven slid from the trees. The elf held a finger to his lips and sprang almost silently for his mount. He swung up into the saddle and led them onwards along the game trail.

  The look on the elf’s face was enough to inspire quiet, even from Karile. They continued on in silence save for the clop of the horses’ hooves on the beaten dirt.

  Saoven urged them onwards into a trot and they stepped up the pace, wending their way through the trees along the narrow path. A sense of foreboding settled over them. Janir didn’t dare speak until she knew what was happening, what Saoven had found. Fear locked her jaw, making the thought of words preposterous.

  The land began to rise at a steeper and steeper slant. Eventually, it became clear that they were scaling the sides of one of the great colossuses that made up the Gideon Mountains.

  The horses came onto a narrow track that leveled out suddenly. The trees gave way on one side, offering a plain view to the foot of the mountain.

  Shivers shot through her when she internalized how far down it was. Or how high up they had gone. Rocks slid underneath Kalbo’s hooves, skipping down the mountainside, as if to show her just how far one could fall.

  It took an uneasy amount of time for them to leave the gravel and reach the other side of the mountain, where it was grassier. The horses clopped deeper into the mountains, traversing at an angle along the steep slope.

  Saoven led the way to a meadow with wiry, dead grass, reining in his steed beside them. “We can slow a little from here,” he said. “We should be alright for now.”

  “What did you find?” Janir found her voice at last.

  Saoven shook his head. “A camp, from the look of it. Very odd. Soldiers from Stlaven, if I had to guess.”

  A hard lump formed in Janir’s throat. “Soldiers?”

  “Try not to worry,” he said. “There’s nothing we can do about it right now.”

  Janir wished it was that simple. There were so many questions and so many fears swirling around her skull.

  Not only were Brevia’s age old rivals toeing the border for the first time in nearly two decades, but there was the matter of the Argetallams, Karile’s Key of Amatahns, her killing Duke Ronan, and Armandius…

  Armandius was probably the one she feared for the most. As far as she knew, no word had come on what the other High Lords had decided to do with him. One half of her said that they would not harm the last remaining member of the Third House. The pact of the Seven Swords had stood for millennia, surely they wouldn’t break it now.

  The other half of her said that Armandius had hidden an Argetallam. Even his peers would not look favorably upon that transgression.

  Kalbo and Loristi walked side by side for a few hours after that. They carried their riders out of the meadow and ventured into the trees, continuing higher up into the mountains. The steep slopes with their tall grasses and treeless landscapes blended into a single image in Janir’s mind as the air grew cooler.

  At least twenty miles from where Saoven had gone to scout, he announced that they should stop for the night. The horses were tired and so were their riders. They made their camp near an outcrop of trees at the top of a slope overlooking the valley below. Although they could see for leagues, there was no sign of anyone chasing them.

  Janir pulled her sleeves just a little farther over her arms. The elf chose this spot because of the view they had on three out of four sides. Janir protested that it merely meant other people could see their fire from three sides, but Saoven told her they would have ample warning if anyone did try to approach them. All the same, he seemed quite certain that none of the Stlavish soldiers even knew they had passed.

  Saoven was distracted, thinking deep inside himself. Janir didn’t question him again as they unsaddled the horses.

  They cleaned a brace of leverets Saoven had caught and built a fire, all the while the trio barely exchanged a word. Karile was content to keep quiet for once, observing the other pair and ogling the cooking meat.

  At length, the three of them sat waiting for supper. Karile fixated on the roasting young rabbits. Saoven stared meditatively into the flames and Janir waited for someone to say something.

  “I am going to have to leave you, Janir,” Saoven said with reluctance.

  “Why?” was all she could manage to reply. Fear and a sudden wave of clinginess surged through her, far more than just the usual disappointment she felt whenever he left Castle Caersynn with his father.

  “You are in the mountains now and I must inform the Brevians of the Stlavish band that is here.” He took a deep breath. “Also, I must tell my people of the Argetallams’ search for the Key of Amatahns .”


  “You believe him?” Janir couldn’t wholly keep the incredulity out of her voice as she gestured to Karile.

  The enchanter pouted indignantly and folded his arms across his chest. “Your display of confidence is overwhelming.”

  “He has not lied,” Saoven said, ignoring the enchanter altogether. “And he is only slightly mad. If the Argetallams are indeed after the relic, then they must be stopped.”

  Janir bit her lip. Saoven and Karile hated what she was so much. It could become dangerous or even fatal for her if they found out. She honestly wasn’t sure what they would do.

  Misinterpreting her expression, he offered consolation. “I am certain Armandius has worked things out and that you will be able to return to Green Haven soon.”

  Smiling faintly, Janir wanted to change the subject, but couldn’t think of anything. He was under the impression her exile was because she had killed a nobleman. When he returned to the lowlands, he would almost certainly learn better.

  “What am I to do?” Janir choked. “Where am I suppose to go?”

  “Stay in the mountains,” Saoven replied. “I will return for you as soon as I can, Janir. I swear.” He cast her a long, meaningful look.

  Janir didn’t want his promises, she wanted him to stay. All the same, she did her best not to show how upset she truly was.

  “Keep a low profile and avoid all other travelers when possible. You should be alone in these parts.” Saoven hesitated. He was probably thinking about the Stlavish band he had seen earlier today.

  “I will return within a day, a day and a half at most.” He shot a glance to his slim white mare, probably deciding how fast he could press her. “Watch for werewargs. If you move every other night or so, they should not find you. If they do, remember that they fear water. And stay away from cliffs. Griffins may be nesting there.”

  Janir nodded, storing away his advice. Not that he needed to tell her half of it. As inept as she was at the actual sport, she had learned a great deal from hunting with Armandius.

  “Will you know where to find me?” she ventured.

  He gave her a sideways glance. “I am an elf,” was his simple reply. “I can usually find anything and anyone in creation, as long as I know what or who I am searching for.”

  She had forgotten that. Stress was probably prioritizing memories.

  “Though,” Saoven’s brow crinkled, “I did have a slight bit of trouble finding you this time. I could not feel you at all. I must be getting lax.” The elf seemed to genuinely believe it was his own mistake or so she hoped. “Hardly matters. If I happen to err again, I can do what I did this time and search for Kalbo.”

  If only he knew. Janir couldn’t look him in the eye for a moment.

  “I’ll stay with her,” Karile volunteered. “We can’t leave her alone, now can we?”

  Saoven watched Karile carefully, but didn’t protest. Whatever the case, he must see something in the boy to make him trust he wasn’t a threat to Janir.

  She just hoped Saoven would be back soon. The last thing she wanted was to be alone in these mountains with hostile soldiers…and Karile.