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

by JANRAE FRANK

  Jeord gave her a sheepish grin and gestured her aside. "We got to talk," he said.

  The dwarf wondered what about, considering that their last encounter had been when she beat him up. "What about?" she asked suspiciously.

  He looked even more embarrassed, touched his finger to his lips with a shake of his shaggy head, and motioned to a tent farther down.

  Tagalong followed, her curiosity peeked. His pillowed butt and odd waddling stride (no doubt because he'd taken a sword thrust to the posterior) reminded her so much of an overgrown duck that she put her hand to her mouth to stifle a chuckle.

  He showed her into the tent he shared with his brother, Ragnar, who was back throwing the bones. The place was a disheveled mess with clothes and gear strewn about.

  "So what is this about?" she asked.

  "I want to apologize," he said, ducking his head like a scolded Sharani schoolchild.

  "For what?"

  "For calling you what I called you."

  Tagalong nodded. This is promising. "Okay. That was weeks ago. What's got ya up now?"

  "I'd've gotten cut worse than this," he said, patting his pillow, "if it hadn't been for two of the green's women."

  "So why apologize ta me?" She pushed a bit more, her curiosity aroused.

  "I hadn't insulted them," he said, staring at his feet.

  "So?"

  "You gave me my first lesson. They gave me my second. You females sure can fight!" he lifted his head with a shine of pure admiration. "I saw you. You sure gave those gobbies a beating."

  Tagalong's entire face brightened, dispelling the lingering humiliation from finding herself up a tree during the battle. Her eyes grew large and luminous, one side of her mouth quirked halfway to her cheek and showed her big white teeth with the pure victorious delight of a child as she tucked her thumbs in her belt and prepared to receive due homage. "Ya saw me?"

  "Yah. You were tremendous! Meaning no disrespect, but you're not married, are you?"

  Tagalong gave him a long askance glance. She had an odd feeling that she knew where this was leading. "No."

  Jeord sighed happily. "Good." He pulled something long and glistening from his pocket, extending it to Tagalong.

  The dwarf gasped. It was the most beautiful necklace she had seen in years: a delicate string of obsidian, rose quartz, and Valdren amber carved into flowers. "Omagosh! That's gorgeous!" she said fingering it.

  "Will you wear it?"

  "No strings attached?" She eyed him skeptically.

  "None. Can I call you 'Tag'?"

  "Sure," she said, slipping the necklace over her head. She smiled. The very last thing she had ever expected from the big man was happening: Jeord was courting her in his clumsy fashion. Not that she intended to let it go very far, but it was delightful nonetheless.

  * * * *

  "Bad things, Brundarad," Hanadi muttered in Euzadi to prevent anyone from understanding. "Takhalme has quarantined Rowanslea. What has happened must be bad indeed. Very, very bad. Our units only will be allowed in, but you are to sniff each and every one of our people that comes or goes. And everyone who has not come or gone. Yet he does not tell me what it is you sniff for!"

  Brundarad rumbled deep in his throat.

  "Well, if you know so much, then you should tell me!"

  He gave another low rumbling.

  "Humph! Lot of good you are!"

  * * * *

  Laurelyanne regarded the mon on the cot thoughtfully. He looked ill. Eliahu sat near him. She unfolded a campstool and settled beside him. "He's a mage, you say?"

  The weeks of pushing himself and the twisted magic had finally settled on Josh in a crushing exhaustion, made worse by the battle. All he wanted to do was sleep and be left alone. Clemmerick and Eliahu had insisted on bringing this mon to see him anyway. Exhaustion had banished his spiritual desolation, leaving him too tired to feel anything, making it both a blessing and a bane. The dreams and visions were gone, but few feelings roused past the numbness.

  "He's the one sparked the rumors of Aejys having a battlemage in her company," Clemmerick informed her. "She doesn't. It's just Eliahu and Josh."

  "When he's sober, you can't find even the smallest trace of it." Eliahu explained. "Well, almost nothing. When I scanned to the deepest levels I found the traces of a mage net in his neural nets and power centers. I believe he was born with a gift that could have rivaled that of the Abelards, but something burnt it out of him." Eliahu glanced meaningfully at Clemmerick who shrugged.

  Clemmerick would never tell Josh's secrets. If Josh wanted them known, then Josh would have to tell them.

  Laurelyanne took Josh's wrist and Read him. He resisted passively and she stroked his head like she would a child, considering him. She had seen few adults this traumatized and those usually had gone through some of the worst of the magical fighting of the Great War. How this mon who had grown up on the Northwest Coast far from the war's reaches could show signs of its worst effects puzzled her. "I have a keen sense for mage gift and a secondary healer's sense. I would venture that he might have a tiny mage ability, but nothing like what you describe, Eliahu. Nothing at all. Those of my people who saw this manifestation of power spoke of a classic style battlemage, a sword in one hand and power in the other."

  "Would you like a drink, Josh?" Clemmerick asked.

  Josh managed only a tiny whisper. "Yes."

  Clemmerick poured a double jigger of dragonsbreath, passed it to Laurelyanne and she helped Josh to drink it. Then she Read him and her eyes saucered. "Gods, what have we here?"

  Josh screamed, dumping himself off the cot at the far side and cowering.

  Instantly Grymlyken started under the cot to him, but Laurelyanne stopped him, got down on her knees, and motioned him back. "I'm sorry, Josh. I was only surprised. There's nothing bad about you. I didn't mean it that way. I was just surprised. You're a good mon. Get back on the cot and rest. You've tired yourself, and I want you to rest while you're here. Walk about. See the sights. I have some things to do today. Then I'll walk you around and show you some things. Pretty sights. Take you shopping. We don't have seashells, but we have other pretty things. Would you like that?"

  "Yes."

  "Good." Laurelyanne rose and left the tent.

  Eliahu followed her out. "What's wrong with him?"

  The earthmage paused a moment, leaning upon her staff. "It won't get better until he starts to talk about it."

  "About what?"

  "Burn out. This was deliberately done. I would guess a parent or someone had the magic burned out when he was a child. Perhaps because it frightened them."

  "Can you help him?"

  "I can try. However, I've never heard of this being successfully reversed. Mitigated, yes. Reversed, no."

  * * * *

  The Houses of Healing were four long simple white buildings set in a quad with a bright herb and flower garden in the middle that was just beginning to show the brown of autumn. There were no signs on any of the buildings: the Valdren disdained the way humans' tacked labels and signs on everything; instead they just knew where things were.

  Aejys, remembering the way from an earlier visit, entered the main building. The first room looked like someone's parlor except for the shelves of herbs and medicinals lining two walls instead of bookcases. Two small tables, one round and the other rectangular, sat in the middle flanked by short couches and over-stuffed chairs. Water simmered on a small stove in the farthest corner. A freshly made pot of tea sitting on an iron trivet with four porcelain cups surrounding it spouted steam in the middle of the round table. She found Tamlestari sitting at the small table in the foyer, looking tired and worn, sipping tea from a cup cradled in both hands. She lifted her head, smiling wearily in greeting as Aejys took the chair next to her.

  "Two more died this morning," she said softly. "Healers, priests, and readers can only do so much... Especially when infection sets in. We needed lifemages."

  "Tag told me – they all disappeare
d."

  "They're dead," Tamlestari replied, her face grim. "Four of those rings belonged to lifemages from Green Haven."

  "What happened to the rings?"

  "Cassana sent most of them to Charas. One she sent to a stonemage in Armaten, cousin of Tag's. I hope they got there." Tamlestari's expression grew grimmer still, she stared into her tea, her hands tightening around the cup, despite the heat. "Cassana sent messages to several places, including Vallimrah, telling Laurelyanne of Brendorn's death. She never received it."

  "Estari..." Aejys slipped an arm around Tamlestari, worried as much about the youth as the information she imparted. "Are you going to be alright?"

  "Eventually," she promised, kissing Aejys lightly. "Come on, it would be good for morale if you walked the ward with me."

  The ward was long with sixteen rows of beds. The Valdren felt that misery needed company so they had few private areas in the four buildings. The room had not been so full since the last Great War. A cheer went up from the lightly wounded as Aejys entered, startling the healers and priests moving among them.

  Aejys looked at Tamlestari and saw tears in the young healer's eyes, her mouth set with outrage and anger. "I wish I could do something," Aejys told her, one hand squeezing the younger woman's shoulder sympathetically.

  "You could kill Margren," Tamlestari said with an edge and a catch in her voice.

  Aejys shivered at the sound and the look in her lover's eyes. She moved away rather than face it. "You know I cannot."

  Then Aejys went from bed to bed, comforting, sympathizing, and sharing stories of the great battle. All had lost friends and comrades fighting the orcs. Although there was sorrow in some of their voices, there was also an undercurrent of excitement: many had just fought the hardest battle of their lives and won through. They spoke of Clemmerick and Josh as the heroes of the day, coming to the rescue and hitting the orcs from behind. Aejys marveled at the descriptions of Josh, singing his drunken chantey and juggling fire, disintegrating orcs so that the others fled from him. A few spoke of his sword skill and Aejys wondered still more at that, for she knew Josh had no weapons skills or training.

  * * * *

  Aejys left through the back door, stepping into the garden quad from the side. She stood, eyes closed, letting the breeze blow across her face. The scents of rosemary and sage dominated the garden. She thought of her tavern, missing the companionship of her regulars and staff. Becca loved to gossip and Aejys enjoyed listening to the tavern master. Some of it was new and much of it was amusing recollections from years past before Aejys arrived in Vorgensburg. She ached to be back there, to be living her simpler life again without the intrigues and deceptions of her ma'aram's court. Her stomach tightened at the thought of seeing Margren again.

  She left the courtyard, walking out of the city proper into the forestlands beyond. Aejys knew every path, had walked them with Brendorn many times before the war. She reached a small stream thick with reeds and enormous water loving ferns. Aejys drew her sword, kissed the Aroanan Rune, and shoved the blade into the ground. Then she knelt before it, trying again to pray.

  Death walked at her shoulder, she could feel him breathing on her neck. How many of her friends would die before Margren could be stopped. What was the price? Her own death? If that would bring Margren down, then she could die without regrets. If only Laeoli and Ladonys could be brought to safety. If Margren died then they would be safe whether they left Rowanslea or not. Tamlestari and their unborn child would be safe...

  She began one of the higher devotions, continuing even after she felt the tension forming in her stomach. This time I will finish, she promised herself. The pain of guilt, fear, and desperation coiled in her gut, climbing through her nerves and muscles. No. Bile rose from her stomach, burned in her throat. She smelled burnt flesh, heard the screams echoing through her memories. Her mouth twisted, drawing back from her teeth as she forced the words out. She felt the stone trolls' grip on her arm, pinioning her... Bile boiled up from her throat, burning, spilling into her mouth. No. She tried to swallow it back. She felt the blades slicing her legs.

  Aejys balled up, pressing her arms into her stomach. A few more lines of the devotion remained. Her lips moved in the ritual phrases. Then her stomach heaved as the flashback overwhelmed her, overriding her will. She collapsed into the tall grass, vomiting and weeping.

  A sweet, strong voice completed the ritual phrases above her and she turned her head to gaze up at Tamlestari. Aejys had not heard her come. The devotion completed, Tamlestari raised Aejys into her arms, splashing her face with water from the stream, drawing her back from the grip of her nightmares. "You nearly finished," Tamlestari told her encouragingly, "Our God hears us. All will be made right in the end."

  "I want to believe that," Aejys said, recovering in her lover's arms. "But it's hard."

  "I know."

  They sat and simply held each other until night came. Then they made their way to Laurelyanne's house to tell her about the child.

  * * * *

  A large group gathered around the Oak of Sorrows in the early afternoon of the third morning in Vallimrah: all of Aejys' company who could walk as well as those who could safely be brought out on litters by their unit mates with the healers trailing along beside and behind. A company of rangers in brown and green spread out and around them followed by many of the folk of Green Haven.

  Tehmistoclus, the withered, ancient High Priest of Willodarus presided over the rites of burial in his silver-gilt, dark green robes. They laid Johannes' casket into the earth, piling the weapons of his fallen foes over it. Aejys led her company, greens, reds, and black ribbons, past, throwing earth upon it, gradually transforming it into a mound of brown dirt. Eventually grass would grow over it and the grave would become just another mound cared for by the gentle priests and their servants.

  Laurelyanne stood near Tehmistoclus, an arm around Tamlestari who looked on in grim silence. Aejys glanced as she passed, meeting her lover's eyes, trying to read the darkness in their green depths, and failing before walking on. The Valdren came last, strewing flowers as well as earth. A dozen Valdren sounded their silver horns in the last farewell. Then the assemblage began to break up.

  Aejys started toward Tamlestari, but a gentle hand on her arm stopped her. She turned to see Tehmistoclus beside her. He stood almost as tall as Aejys; his eyes, green to the edge of black, connected to hers with an imperceptible lift. Aejys perceived a light, blended of kindness and tempered strength, in their depths as he regarded her, measuring her in a manner he had never done on her previous visits to Vallimrah. "Do you know who Kalestari was?" he asked – a simple question suddenly loaded with unknown depths.

  Aejys wondered where it was leading. "A Valdren hero raised among my people." She added, "She was my friend."

  "And that is all you know?" he pressed, an indecipherable quality entering his voice. "Think, Aejystrys Rowan, on your honor, is that all you know?"

  Aejys took her pipe out, filled and lit it before answering. "Yes. That is all I know. Why?" She dragged in a deep breath, filling her lungs with the comforting herb, blowing it out through her nose.

  "Then you do not know who her blood child, Tamlestari, truly is. You do not know her lineage?" he asked carefully.

  "Where is this going?"

  Tehmistoclus shook his head slightly, dismissing her question. "Tamlestari Odaren brye Desharen de Havenrain," he said, giving Tamlestari her full lineage.

  "Havenrain?" Aejys felt herself caught in deep water well over her head. "No... I did not know."

  "For Laurelyanne's sake we will assume that is true for the moment."

  "It is true. On my God's honor..." Aejys said fervently.

  "Tamlestari is the last princess of the line of Valestari and Eldarion Havenrain. Her great-grandmother is our Queen Magdarien."

  Aejys never knew where her next words came from or why she blurted it out without thinking. "Does she know it?"

  Tehmistoclus shook his he
ad. "When the time is right we will tell her. It was her bloodmother's wish. And all our people are held by it. Until then we will ward her as best we can without turning her from her life's path."

  "And how will you know it is time?"

  "I will be given a sign. Your lineage is noble, Aejystrys brye Rowan, but it is poor and pale compared with hers," a sharp edge of disapproval entered his voice, his eyes narrowing. "I am told she carries your child after the Sharani fashion. Who is the father?"

  "Brendorn," Aejys answered, feeling acutely uncomfortable under his methodical probing.

  "And what are your intentions?"

  "Honorable. I intended to ask you to hold a bonding."

  "Then why do you say otherwise?"

  "To protect her from my enemies. The fact that it is my child she carries would endanger her. It will be safer if certain people believe she was already pregnant when we became lovers."

  "And is that common among your people?"

  "In a land that is almost without males of its own race? Yes, frequently. Men are shared, loaned, rented, bought, and sold. The majority are imports. Usually only in the upper classes are they married, although our women marry amongst themselves."

  "Walk with me, I have many questions about your people. When our young men return from working in your land they are reticent to speak of certain of your customs. And all of this will have bearing on our decisions concerning this relationship of yours."

  Tamlestari and Laurelyanne hailed Aejys from across the field. Tehmistoclus followed her gaze and nodded to them.

  "Can we have this talk later? Tamlestari needs me right now."

  "Forgive me, I am being thoughtless," the priest said, giving her such a deep compassionate glance that Aejys momentarily felt he could understand anything she might say which coming on top of their conversation left her feeling off balance. "You will lunch with me tomorrow? Just you?"

  "Gladly." Aejys bowed and left him.

  * * * *

  Since there were now more tents than myn, Tagalong had one to herself. The first night she had slept on Laurelyanne's couch, waiting for Aejys to wake. Then she returned to the tent she had shared with Cassana and Tamlestari, which now seemed sadly empty.