Chains of Fate (The Fate Circle Saga Book 1)

by Alledria Hurt

  “We’ve caught us a lady traveling alone.” One of the men said as he circled the net. “A wealthy one at that, look at the jewels on those slippers.”

  “I’m no one, please.” The words came out, tumbling unbidden. Her eyes took in those around her with fear. “I stole the clothes. I stole the horse. I only mean to get away. Please, I’m no one.”

  All seven men laughed.

  “No one!” One of the riders had dismounted and was now close enough for her to smell his horse and his breath, Jalcina couldn’t decide which was worse, on him. “I know of no ‘no one’ who could steal clothes embroidered with the King’s seal and riding a horse said to have come from the dark reaches to serve a master more evil than one of the Shadows. No one indeed.”

  An eight man appeared out of the trees and as he approached the others backed away. He stood tall, though he was older, his beard short but white. His green eyes flicked and dismissed.

  “What did you find?”

  “A woman, she travels alone, claims to be no one at all, and yet has the trappings of one of his whores. In fact, she rides a horse just like his.” The rider opened his mouth to continue, then shut it abruptly at the other man’s gesture.

  “It is clear you are not ‘no one’, so woman, speak for yourself or find yourself ‘no one’ in truth.”

  “My name is Jalcina, a daughter of Sartol. I was captured by the King’s men. Please. I only want to escape. He will have men hunting me.”

  A murmur went through the group.

  “Jalcina, you say?” The old man stroked his beard. “Perhaps you tell the truth. Your story sounds much like one we’ve heard very recently.” He commanded his men. “Untangle them.”

  The work of untangling both horse and rider from the net took nearly a half hour, but at the end, Jalcina stood on her own two feet beside the massive body of Kahn who seemed indignant to be touched by these men. Jalcina soothed him by stroking his neck.

  “Give me your hand.”

  She offered it to him.

  The old man grabbed her wrist and ran his dagger across her palm hard. With a squeal, she jerked her hand back.

  “Let it bleed in the snow and leave the horse. It will find its way back to where it belongs and hopefully when he finds this place, we’ll be long gone and he’ll think you’re dead.”

  Jalcina obediently opened her palm and let the blood run out into the snow, leaving heavy drops of scarlet against the churned up white. Then she followed the old man. They were in another copse of trees before the entire group was mounted again, the old man carrying Jalcina with him.

  “I’m Marcen. This is my band. May they believe you dead and gone.”

  It was a long ride in Jalcina’s mind, but she was exhausted so she could hardly keep track of how long it truly was. Only that after some interminable time, they were outside of what appeared to a fortress half hidden in the snow. The group entered together and dismounted, others came to tend to their horses. Jalcina lstared at the stone structure which seemed to emerge from the ground and as if it could slip back inside at any moment like a turtle into its shell.

  “Welcome Jalcina of Sartol.”

  “JALCINA.”

  The voice was so familiar she couldn’t help but twist toward it. Just in time as a pair of arms swung around her and gripped her tight.

  “I never thought I would see you again.”

  Jalcina could hardly believe she was once again looking in Lecern’s eyes.

  “Take her into the hall, it’s freezing out here and she’s wearing little more than would cover someone well kept.” Marcen pushed the both of them toward the structure some yards away. Lecern carried Jalcina toward it until she squirmed enough to make him put her on her feet. Snow drifted lazy around them a far cry from its howling torrent of the night before when all the world was captive to the white. It only added to the dreamlike quality of holding his hands.

  She barely felt the steps, though the sudden warmth of the hall brought a flush to her cheeks and a reminder of how cold she was, all the way down to her bones.

  “We should get you a change of clothes,” said Lecern, though he made no move to do so. Instead he wrapped his arms around her and led her to a stained low table. The smell of sour ale and spilled food was enough to make her stomach cry its emptiness. “And something to eat.”

  “How?” She didn’t release holding his sleeves as he held her despite her shivering. “How did you get here? Where is here? What’s happened?”

  “Your Father returned home to report you taken and prepare Sartol for war come spring. I knew I couldn’t get just stand by and let him take you, so I came after you.”

  “Alone.”

  “Yes, alone. Don’t sound so surprised.” He gave her a quick kiss. “For you, there is nothing too difficult, you know that.” Then he continued. “By the time I reached the plains, the army had already moved on, but a force that large doesn’t move as quickly as one man on horseback nor does it hide its movements well. I expected I would catch them within a few days, but the blizzard swept in and I had to find shelter. I was nearly lost when I stumbled upon some of the men here making their own way in the storm. I bartered passage with some of the food I had and now I’m here, with you. The Maker smiles on my endeavor.”

  She curled harder into his arms, thankful for his warmth and just the fact it was him and not that other, the one who even now lurked on the edges of her thoughts whispering how she needed to return to him. The feeling of wings and feathers permeated her thoughts a moment and she moaned, shaking her head to push them away.

  “We have to get you better clothes. I should have done this sooner. You’ll get sick.” Now he pulled away, untangling himself from her and left her there at the table. Jalcina laid her head down and curled her fists on the tabletop.

  Moonlight on dragon scales and the sense of floating on air. Not alone. Together.

  “Come.” Lecern wrapped a blanket around her shoulders minutes later, and helped her to stand. “There’s a warm bed and dry clothes for you. I have to talk to Marcen, but as soon as we’re certain the blizzard’s cleared here, we should go.”

  “Go where? It won’t be safe to attempt the passes until Spring, Lecern.” The warmth and peace ripped away like cloth in a high wind. Beneath her, her legs nearly gave against the sudden rush of cold fear.

  “Jalcina.” He supported her against his body. “I know we can’t make it back to Sartol, but we cannot stay here. Here is too close to lands he controls. Too close to the chance of losing you again. We can find somewhere else. Somewhere we will be safe. But we don’t have to worry about that now. We’re safe for the moment and you need to rest.”

  He half carried, half led her through halls she barely saw before easing her down on a bed.

  “I’ll bring you a shift to sleep in and there are plenty of covers.”

  Within minutes she was tucked in up to her chin. Lecern kissed her cheek.

  “Just rest now. All will be well when you wake up.”

  24

  “The weather has moved on enough for us to be able to move the men.”

  Vad’Alvarn heard the man standing before his seat, but he didn’t see him. Instead he saw the stretches of icy waste miles behind them his beloved had fled into.

  “My King?”

  “What?”

  “Do you wish to give the order to move the men? They are growing restless. They were promised a return home.”

  “Take them.” He wiped his face with one hand, fingers scrapping across the beard beginning to grow untended on his face. “Leave me the Elites, but continue the trek south with the main body.”

  Vad’Alvarn’s Elite soldiers were only fifty men, but they were hand selected to serve. Every one of them well bloodied and loyal only to the king. If he decided he wanted to take a town with only them, he would still stand an honest chance of losing only one or two.

  The general began his protest and was cut short by the sound of Vad’Alvarn’s fis
t coming down on the arm of his chair.

  “Go.”

  The man exited, backing out of the tent with his head ducked in deference.

  “Are you certain?” Navar questioned from his position seated to the king’s right. He watched the entry way as if expecting the general to return with his own contingent of guards in tow. “All this over a woman?”

  “Not a woman, Navar. Leviana is not simply a woman to me. You will go with him. Keep him in line and make sure they make good time on the return. I will rejoin you at the Capital when I have recovered her.”

  “How can you be certain you will find her?”

  “She wants to be found. It is the other, the girl, who wants to escape me. Leviana will find her way back.”

  25

  Jalcina woke from a dream of flight, soaring and diving with her mate, his body warm and dark beside her, to an empty room where all the warmth was concentrated under the pile of blankets. Her left foot which had found its way out was icy cold. Her movements were slow as she tried to lose as little heat as possible while seeing as much of the room as she could. It was a simple room, empty except for the bed and a single chair.

  Pricking up her ears, she tried to hear others moving around. Distant muffled sounds of motion came from nearby, probably a hall. Snuggling back down, she waited. The urge to get up was not overwhelming. It nagged at her lightly, the way the warm air in the halls of Sartol would let her know the sun had risen and was working its way through the valley waking the plants, animals, and people.

  “Are you awake?”

  Lecern’s voice forced her to poke her head out of a cocoon and confront the cold.

  “Yes.”

  “Good, you should dress so you can eat. Then we can go talk to Marcen.”

  “I thought you were going to do that?”

  “I was, but then I realized I don’t know where you have passed through and thus where it would be a good idea to stay away from. Information we need.”

  Marcen was in the main room of the small keep with a group of men around him. One of them still wore snow on his shoulders and he stood speaking to the group.

  “What’s happened?” Lecern asked in a low voice in Marcen’s ear.

  “The Usurper King’s army has broken camp. They’re continuing south our scout says.”

  Jalcina felt a wave go through her. A certainty.

  “He isn’t with them.”

  “His banner flies with the others. The King himself must lead them. They wouldn’t move without his order.”

  The group broke up, becoming smaller and leaving the pair with Marcen who remained seated.

  “We need to prepare to go.”

  “There’s nowhere to go with half the world locked in ice, my boy. Better to winter here.”

  “No. We can’t stay here. We hope to get closer to the mountains. As soon as Spring sweeps in and clears the passes, we’ll go home. All we need are provisions and the lay of the land. Somewhere that isn’t loyal to the King.”

  “You’ll be hard pressed, Lecern.” Marcen’s face clouded. “He’s conquered everything to the edge of the mountains and it is only the Maker’s smile it was Fall when he came to there. Had it been Spring, he’d have everything to the sea under his banner.”

  “There has to be at least one place.”

  “There is one place I can think of, but are you certain you want to go into that darkness?”

  “Backaran.” Lecern pronounced the name. “Darkness even he dared not go into.”

  “No, they say he came out of that darkness after his first failure, but if that is true, he won’t think to search for you there.” Marcen glanced from Lecern to Jalcina. “Do you really want to take her, a woman you risked your life for, into a place where even he is said to have come marked?”

  “If it will keep her safe.”

  “And you? Are you going with him?”

  “I want to go home. To my father, to my family. If it weren’t for the knowledge of how many the passes kill in Winter, I would fight my way through them now to be with them again.” Her eyes strayed to a nearby window, but the mountains were nowhere to be seen. The air was too thick with snow.

  “Nothing’s gonna stop you. You bartered for clothes and keep, Lecern. We’ll keep our end of the bargain for yourself and her. And I’ll even throw in a map to get you to Backaran in case another small blizzard or two should blow you off your course.”

  “Horses?”

  “One should be enough for the both of you.”

  The old man walked away and Lecern put his arms around Jalcina.

  “Backaran. I never thought I would see that place.”

  “Perhaps someone should go there anyway.” Jalcina continued to gaze out the window.

  “Why?”

  “Because maybe there is a way to kill him.”

  “No one can kill him.”

  “There has to be a way. Has to be,” Jalcina said. “Otherwise, everything is going to fall to him eventually. Including our home in Sartol. What’s going to keep him from simply coming up the passes and slaughtering us all at his leisure? The Maker will give us what another year perhaps? Long enough for us to bless the eyes of a child between us before that evil sweeps in and takes it all away?”

  “For now, we’re safe. Tomorrow we will begin our journey. There’s no reason to fret any sooner.” Lecern laid his head on top of hers and let out a breath. “No reason at all.”

  26

  The scout had been right, the king’s banner flapped in the breeze over the main army and as it made camp in a new place, it snapped over the top of the Imperial tent set in the center of the encampment. However, the king himself did not ride with the army.

  Instead he rode with a small column. He had commanded all of the Elite and then only taken ten with him as he struck out into the countryside, their armor showing no allegiance at all. They were simply eleven men out riding, perhaps hunting, though their weapons said they were not searching for deer.

  None of them spoke of their objective or complained about the bitter cold. In fact, none of them spoke. Each wrapped in his own cloak and keeping his own council, including the monarch. Coming from the southern climes, he did not enjoy winter. Found it beautiful and fascinating how the world made glass of ice and adorned itself in a peerless white, but he did not enjoy it. The chill reminded him of Backaran.

  The dark city. The untouchable city. The city of the mad. It had names and lived up to every single one. He remembered having Leviana at his side as they stared down the canyon into the city. It was sheltered, and shadowed, on three sides by a grand gorge. No one had ever taken Backaran. No one had ever tried. It was a place of magicians and mad men, of grand tales of gold and power, but there was never any certainty. Great magic came at cost.

  How well Vad’Alvarn knew that now.

  A rider returned to the group, another horse in tow.

  “Kahn.”

  Vad’Alvarn put his hand out and whistled to his horse. It came obediently though it sidestepped the animal he was riding with disdain. He patted the creature’s nose.

  “I found him a half-mile further into the woods. There’s signs of a struggle nearby. Blood of a single person.”

  “Enough for death?”

  “I cannot be certain. There are tracks leading away, a group. Little blood trail.”

  “What shall we do?”

  “Follow the tracks. I will not believe her dead until I hold her body in my arms.”

  “Night comes, my lord.”

  “Then we shall camp at the struggle and begin at daybreak. Range out and hunt.”

  Three of the men unslung bows from their backs with happy faces and broke away from the group. The others followed the first to the site of the struggle and began the process of making a cold camp. Watching them, Vad’Alvarn had a momentary wish for Navar at his side. He would have something to say. Something to break the silence.

  The blood sign on the ground had frozen into crystals. He s
cooped up one large bit and held it before his face.

  “Your blood, but not your life’s blood.”

  He slung it back to the ground.

  No, she was not dead. His heart and his power would have told him so. The dragon inhabiting his soul would have screamed for its mate in her final moments, calling her to strength against death. The first of the men to return had a rabbit with him, its coat white with the turn of the season. Another returned with a wolf. The last dragging a bear, an arrow through each of its eyes.

  “Tarlick wins again.”

  “Did you catch the bear sleeping?”

  “No, it reared up at me with a great roar.” Tarlick launched into a story of how he brought down a bear the size of his horse while the camp preparations finished. Though there would be no heat, they would still eat meat. What they didn’t eat would make the scavengers content.

  27

  Morning dawned frozen to find Jalcina already awake and dressed. She had been staring out the window since a dream, the coal black dragon with burning eyes curling around her again, had awakened her before the stars were gone from the sky.

  “Eager to be off?”

  “Yes. The sooner the better.” Lecern carried two packs with him.

  “Then we can go. I doubt Marcen is one for goodbyes or that he will have anything further to say to us.”

  “Nothing more than another warning perhaps.” Jalcina nearly ran down the hall only restraining herself by her will. “How Backaran is a dark place and no one in their right mind should go there.”

  “I’m inclined to agree with him, Jalcina. It’s an evil place if the stories are true and even if they aren’t, we shouldn’t stay there long. If Backaran is still free, there are other places we should be able to disappear into the throng of humanity.”

  “Do you really think he will let me disappear?” She snapped at him as they entered the courtyard. “No, he will hunt me to the end of the earth and set everything I love to the torch in the meantime.”