JOURNEY OF THE SACRED KING BOOK I: MY SISTER'S KEEPER

by JANRAE FRANK

  The Euzadi favored her with another of her rare small smiles and withdrew, the shadow hound following her out.

  * * * *

  Hanadi woke Tagalong, the Odarens, and Johannes. They in turn roused the camp. Each lieutenant made it clear to their units that nothing was wrong, they were entering a new territory, and Aejys wanted to speak to them all as a group. Eliahu got breakfast started immediately and then stood by his huge heating kettles to listen. He leaned upon his staff, his eyes soft and distant, seeming lost in his own thoughts. He noted that Aejys limped slightly as if her side were hurting her again as he had no doubt it probably was. Because of its location, the long hours on horseback and her mail must keep it sore and aching. There were many things he could have done to help if he had dared reveal himself yet, but he held back. Once Aejys and her lieutenants knew his true nature, he felt certain that Margren would know also. Then she would add him into her calculations. Eliahu had no idea how much or how little she might know concerning the powers of the Winter Mages of the Iron Glacier and did not want to take any chances. Even a mage did not survive long on the Iron Glacier if he took too many unconsidered chances. Patience and restraint were the first survival skills their children learned. And Eliahu had learned them well from the claws of a wolverine when he was but ten.

  The fact that Aejys did not spare herself on this march impressed him. She moved with the confidence of one accustomed to command, but without arrogance or excessive pride, through the ranks of the gathered myn who gave way to her with small words of respect on the lips of many. Her lieutenants walked at her back. She halted in the center beside the fire, her chain mail catching the light which gilded it with orange along one side while the first golden light of dawn which could not yet reach them, left the other a dull shadowed gray. Her gloved hand rested casually on the pommel of her sword. The black band showed on her right arm while the gray scarf of penitence on her left was almost invisible in the half-light. Her expression was grave, but not worried. The matter she would speak of was serious, but not yet a danger. And Eliahu knew what she would say before she spoke, for he had already sensed the watchers. He respected her straightforward way of handling things that concerned her myn.

  "We are entering the Valley of Saint Tarmus," said Aejys. "We camped at their pass two days ago. We are being watched by the monastery's guardians. The Blood Bears of Willodarus. There is a truce here with all the wild creatures. Whatever creatures you see here ... whatever natural creatures, and I stress natural. Willodarus has no more use for the twisted creatures of darkness than you do. Less, because they prey upon his own. There are no manticores to be found here. The bears and lions take them down when they do.

  "Do not assume that any bears or lions are going to attack just because they approach. Don't strike or harm anything that has not left a claw mark on you first. There is no hunting in this valley. If a rat tries to take your food, let it. If a chipmunk or squirrel investigates your pack, let it. If you hurt the smallest creature, especially the smallest creatures, the bears will treat you in kind."

  A man sniggered and another elbowed him in the ribs. But Aejys had seen him and moved through the crowd toward him. The others stepped away from him. Aejys skewered him with a glance. "Have you seen what a grizzled bear can do to a mon?"

  The soldier, a red ribbon, glanced briefly for support, found none, then nodded.

  "Now multiply that by ten. A dozen blood bears can pull down a dragon. You want to argue with them? If I throw you out of camp, they'll come down and investigate you. Tempt me and I'll do it."

  The soldier paled. Aejys moved back into the center. Most of Johannes' mercenaries were gradually accepting the hands-on leadership of the Sharani mon who had hired them, but there were a still a few troublemakers and doubters who were not comfortable with a woman in command. They needed to learn that Aejys would be as quick to punish as Johannes. She wished she had had time to weed them out before starting.

  "Now then. There are enough blood bears and mountain cats around here to take us all out. Every last one of us. We enter their valley on their forbearance and that of their god. You don't give them any trouble and they won't give us any trouble, understood?"

  A chorus of 'ayes' went up.

  "And another thing. The brothers in this monastery are sylvans, drawn from all the six races. I hear about any racial slurs or rudeness and I'll personally administer fifty lashes to the speaker. Dismissed. Get some food and pack up. We are breaking camp early."

  * * * *

  They traveled the edge of a cliff on a wide path cut out of the mountain with a short natural wall rising on their right. The ground was stone worn smooth as silk cloth. The broad sky glowed a deep blue. Trees growing out of the mountain's side rose above the wall. Those who looked down from beside the wall could see a broad valley filled with maples, scarlet with the first touch of autumn chill, and oaks with a scattering of tall, broad crowned elms. Squirrels ran fearlessly along the wall within easy reach of the soldiers who ignored them determinedly. Some jumped from tree to tree, branches dipping and swaying as they paused to watch the newcomers. A great hawk, its umber brown feathers contrasting against the green, settled on a branch ignoring the squirrels, for along the path a truce held even among the animals themselves. The hawk might hunt the valley, but not the path and the monastery grounds, which were sacrosanct to Willodarus.

  The path widened abruptly. Stone gave way to dirt and grass, which in turn gave way to scattered maples and oaks. Then the Monastery of St. Tarmus came into view.

  Sturdy walls surrounded it, their crenellations filled with the drooping twiggy layers of bird nests, undisturbed for centuries, looked like short blunt teeth with the messy remains of breakfast caught between them. The heavy oaken gates stood open, they were rarely closed. A dozen brothers in plain robes of dusty brown, their cowls settled back upon their slender shoulders stood before the open gates to greet Aejys and her entourage. The abbot leaned slightly upon his crozier, a staff of black ash intertwined with delicately wrought silver leaves and topped with the bear rune of Willodarus. Ancient, even for one of the sylvan races, his ivory face was a study in yellow lines and folds of age. Black hair trimmed close to his head and cobalt eyes sharp with intelligence regarded them. As Aejys and her lieutenants dismounted, the abbot came forward smiling. He limped, listing a little to one side and then the other. The ancient sylvan wore braces on both legs, which were concealed by his long robes, but he moved with the comfortable acceptance of one who had long ago made peace with the childhood misfortune that necessitated them. In fact he tended to forget about them except when faced with something he could not do.

  The lapsed paladin dropped to one knee, took his gnarled, withered hand, and kissed the ring upon his finger. The gesture of respect was neither demanded nor required, for Aejys did not serve Willodarus, but her respect for the old sylvan ran deep as did her courtier's manners when the situation seemed to deserve them. And the lapsed paladin, conscious always of the example she set her myn, felt her actions validated as her lieutenants repeated her gesture as she introduced each one.

  "Tut, tut! Old friend," he whispered into Aejys' ear as the paladin then embraced him warmly, "such formality!" But although he seemed to dismiss it all, his voice and face glowed with pleasure.

  "Father Keikero," she said, "it is so good to see you so well!"

  "And you, my friend," Abbot Keikero responded happily. "You have prospered in your exile."

  "Indeed I have," Aejys said. "Vorgensburg has been good to me. These are the myn of my household. I ask leave to camp them in your courtyard. It has been a hard journey and we have several wounded who need your brothers' talents."

  Keikero frowned in concern. "Of course! Bring them in!" He gestured to the watching brothers. Two he dispatched to alert the healers and ready beds. Others, at Cassana's nod, followed her among the wagons to bring out the wounded.

  "What happened?" Keikero asked, starting back toward the gates beside A
ejys.

  "Manticores," Aejys said, her tone going low and dark. "A pack of them."

  "A pack, you say? But manticores are solitary..."

  Aejys drew the little disk from her pocket and pressed it into the abbot's hand. "Later, when I have seen to my myn we can discuss this."

  Abbot Keikero opened his hand and glanced at the disk, closing his hand as soon as he saw what it was. "A serious matter."

  The shadow hound emerged from a dark corner beside the gates rubbing against the abbot and rumbling happily. The abbot looked startled, as if he could scarcely believe his eyes, then dropped to his knees and hugged the fearsome beast. "Well! Brundarad! I never expected to see you again. Falling down a waterfall is usually fatal, you know."

  Brundarad whined.

  "Ahhhh!" The abbot said with a knowing glance at Hanadi. "And very fine she is too. Yes, you may have your old room." Keikero made a gesture of benediction and said so softly no one but Brundarad could hear, "May she give you many litters. And Brundarad, we would be greatly honored if, when the time comes, you would have the birthing here."

  Brundarad gave a series of noises from deep in his throat that brought a beaming smile to the abbot's face.

  Aejys offered Keikero her hand to get back to his feet and he accepted it. The abbot slipped an arm around Aejys' shoulders, "Will you too have your old rooms?" he asked, walking beside her.

  Aejys shook her head, "I bivouac with my myn. However, I would take great pleasure in a long hot bath once I get them settled."

  * * * *

  They trailed Aejys as far as the edge of the stone path cut into the side of the mountain. Clemmerick recognized it as mynmade and decided not to start down it until Josh could take a Reading on it. He saw hours-old horse droppings on the path and knew that they had gone that way. They were finally closing the distance that that widened between them and Aejys' company during the early part of the march when Josh had not been physically able to handle a faster pace; but as the alcoholic sailor-mage had got better accustomed to traveling in a huge basket attached to Clemmerick's tremendous horse, they had begun to gain ground. They had almost caught up to them when the manticores attacked, but Josh's body had taken that moment to be sick and they had fallen behind again. The ogre helped Josh from the big horse. The sailor stretched and settled to the ground beneath a blue spruce. Clemmerick poked Grymlyken who was sleeping in his pocket. The tiny warrior yawned and climbed out onto the ogre's shoulder.

  "What is this place?" he asked.

  "Ask Josh," Clemmerick said.

  Josh gave them a sidewise glance. He pulled his flask from his pocket, staring at it for several moments. He thought about how much he would hurt the next day, how tender and sore his stomach got after a night of drinking. All the muscles and nerves of his body seemed to crawl and tremble. A drink would stop that. Josh ran his tongue over his lips, thinking how that initial rush of fire would feel when he took the first big swallow. And he thought about the way the power would manifest, which frightened him, but he could not access it sober.

  "Aejys needs us, Josh," Clemmerick said gently.

  Josh nodded. He opened the flask, brought it to his lips, and tilted his head back. He gulped down three jiggers of Iradrim whiskey before pausing for air and lowering the flask. Josh grimaced as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve: he did not drink it for the taste. Fire raced though his veins, filled his head. He leaned back against a tree. His eyes lit with a strange brightness and his face flushed with the strength of the drink.

  "We have been watched," he said in a low, rough voice. "The path leads to..." He closed his eyes and listened, then dug his fingers into the dirt. "Yes, I have it now. The Monastery of St. Tarmus the Willodarian."

  Clemmerick built a small fire and took out his frying pan. He threw a little fat into the pan and while it sizzled he took out bread and cheese. He sliced the bread, laid the cheese on top of it, and put it in the pan. He put a lid over it to keep the heat in.

  "Blood bears and mountains cats," Josh said, his strange gaze traveling all about the little clearing. "They will not let us go further ... unless I speak with them." He took another drink and grimaced, wiping his mouth off.

  Grymlyken, warming himself by the fire, looked spooked. "Talk to 'em?" He drew his cloak around himself and disappeared.

  Josh threw back his head and howled. Clemmerick shivered at the inhuman sound. When Josh howled again, the ogre hunched down and covered his ears. From nearby a bear roared. Then another and another. Josh howled again. The answering roars went on for several minutes that seemed like hours. Grymlyken retreated to Clemmerick's pocket. Clemmerick struggled to keep his mind on the food, serving it onto plates. Then he saw the eyes gleaming at the edge of the shadows beyond the fire. Frightened for the first time in his life, the huge hostler tried to count the pairs of eyes, but still was not sure of anything save that there were far too many bears surrounding them to fight.

  "Show no fear," Josh cautioned him. Then he held his hands up, palms out in a gesture of peace as old as mynkind, showing that he carried no weapons. "Come in, come in," he said, then growled low and made a series of animal noises from far back in his throat.

  A deep rumbling answered him and three blood bears came into the firelight while the others remained in the darkness. On all fours they stood taller at the shoulder than Clemmerick's big horse. Their coats were brindled, a dark mustard and the red brown of dried blood. The largest of them was grizzled and nearly snow white around the muzzle. He approached Josh who extended his open palms. The bear sat down in front of him and pressed his heavy paws on top of Josh's palms.

  "You speak our tongue," the bear said in coarse Engla.

  "You can talk!" Clemmerick exclaimed.

  "Yes, ogre, we speak," the bear said, turning his head toward Clemmerick. "Our shamans speak your tongue, for it is given us in the winter dreaming." Then he turned again to Josh. "Why do you follow that company, mage? Are you enemies?"

  "Friends. Aejys refused to let us come, but we felt she would have need of us, so we follow, waiting for that moment of need."

  The blood bear shaman studied Josh and then Clemmerick. Grymlyken remained invisible. The bear made a snuffling sound and then said, "Pixie, I smell you. Make yourself visible!"

  Grymlyken appeared instantly, scrambling up Clemmerick's arm to sit on his shoulder. He regarded the bears distrustfully from his perch.

  "I am Grawl, High Shaman of the Blood Bears of the Valley of St. Tarmus."

  They spoke long into the night of all the matters pertaining to Aejys' situation. Clemmerick gradually lost his nervousness and grew comfortable with the old bear. Realizing that the three myn were no threat to their shaman, the eyes in the darkness slowly departed.

  "I must tell Father Keikero that you are here," Grawl said, "but I will swear him to silence about it."

  * * * *

  Aejys heaved a deep contented sigh as she lowered herself into the hot water filling a large copper and porcelain tub. A small table sat beside it with soap, towels, and washcloth, and an ornately stoppered bottle of rose oil, which the abbot had contributed, from his personal store for his friend's delight.

  The heat soothed the aches and pains of travel from her body. A long scar ran down her back from her left shoulder to just below the shoulder blade: the muscle and bone beneath it tended to hurt in the cold weather. She had ripped the muscle and dislocated the shoulder at nineteen when grappling with a stone troll had carried them both over a cliff onto a rocky shelf. Her ma'aram's physicians had done a good job of surgically repairing it, but when the ache flared up nothing helped as much as a hot bath.

  The door opened and Tamlestari came in with another bucket of steaming water, closing the door with her foot. "I thought you might need more hot water," the youth said, setting it down beside the tub.

  Aejys shook her head. "I have plenty."

  "Or someone to wash your back." The youth smiled impishly, snatching up the soap and washcloth.


  "Only if you promise not to Read me," Aejys warned with an answering smile.

  "I promise." Tamlestari pulled a chair over to the tub, sat down, and soaped up the cloth.

  The cloth felt very good on the lapsed paladin's back as the youth's hand moved it skillfully over her. Aejys sighed and closed her eyes, relaxing as she had not in weeks. Then the cloth slid over her shoulder and moved around her left breast, teasing the nipple in a way that sent a shiver of intense pleasure through her. A deep hunger woke in Aejys. She opened her eyes and looked into Tamlestari's bright green ones, their faces so close their noses almost touched. Without thinking Aejys took the youth's face in her hands and kissed her deeply, their tongues twining hungrily. The fully clothed youth slid into the tub onto Aejys' lap. Water overflowed.

  Tamlestari shifted and her leg parted the older woman's legs, her hand reached down and stroked the mound of pleasure, her fingers skillfully working their way inside her. Aejys gasped sharply and moaned. She loosened the youth's shirt, pushing it up until she could get her mouth on Tamlestari's small perfect nipple.

  Burning heat filled Aejys, rushed along the nerves of her body. Aejys gasped and tried to pull back. "The kyndi," she moaned, struggling to rein in the energy flooding her.

  "I've lain with bi-kyndi before," Tamlestari said as she wormed out of her pants. "It's intense."

  "You don't understand..." Aejys gasped, trying to fight down the hunger building within her, trying to climb out of the tub, trying to get away from the youth before she did something unforgivable. "I'm not bi-kyndi... I'm not... Oh, god!"

  Tamlestari, naked now, grappled with Aejys. Aejys, struggling to get away, overturned the tub. Tamlestari's body slid atop Aejys. Aejys shoved the youth off and scrambled across the drenched floor without rising to her feet.

  Tamlestari started toward Aejys, but the older woman put her hand out to stop her.

  "You don't understand. I'm not bi-kyndi. The kyndi roused. It roused because ... because ... Oh, dear god! I must be..."