by AS Hamilton
'The other horses... It is not their fault their riders are who they are!' he protested. They would not have Brynn's help.
'I cannot change the will of the riders, Sershja,' Brynn responded regretfully. 'The mage is down, but not the barriers he put up to protect their minds.'
'You can do something! By the Goddess, if you can lift me over that gorge, you can stop them from falling off it. Brynn!' he begged.
Brynn was not listening, though, having closed off all communication. Why would he not try? Sershja thought. What had they done to the boy who offered him his first apple? Had they trained all the compassion out of him?
Sershja could not watch the horses plunge over the cliff. He squeezed his eyes shut and snuffed with fear, only to open them moments later to the sound of startled neighing. He did not see them fall, screaming, to their deaths, rather, they were ploughing into an invisible barrier. The men, realising their way was blocked, stopped attempting to jump. Sershja thought he would burst with joy, Brynn had not let him down, he had just cut off communication so he could concentrate.
A horse named Yenna, looked over at the riders opposite the cliff as he rose and shook off his dizziness. 'Thank him for our lives, but not for the headaches,' he sent to Sershja, recognising the male elvan from the corral yesterday. The other horses sent their collective agreement.
'He values your lives as much as his own, he could not forsake you,' Sershja replied proudly.
'We know, yesterday he showed some of us kindness by sharing your experiences amongst the ranges. Tell your rider that we'd be happy to help him if he ever needs it.'
'Could you delay their return to Sal-Cirus?' Sershja asked.
'Half our riders are off already, so delaying them further won't be too hard,' Yenna whinnied in amusement.
'That would be of great help,' Sershja said. 'Besides, I think you could use the rest.'
'We could,' Yenna panted. 'By the goddess, we most certainly could.'
Moments later, riderless horses started to take off, and those with riders, started to buck and prance. The unprepared riders simply tumbled to the ground. Sershja and Treya chuffed with mirth.
Brynn was there then, just as suddenly as his presence had disappeared, it reappeared. 'Your influence?' he asked the charger.
'None needed, you made a good impression,' Sershja's voice was brimming with pride.
'Thank you, Sershja, for your trust and aid.'
Sariah had stopped firing because Brynn's shield prevented Abbarane's men from firing back. She put the bow away. 'Come on. We should go before that mage gets your shield down.'
'Just a moment.'
The very mage Sariah spoke of was approaching. It was just like his dream had started again the moment the glossy, chocolate-brown mare with the high step came around the bend.
Akileena had recovered quickly.
Brynn stealthily slipped behind the mage's protective barriers. He was different from Dematica with no cruelty in his nature. Akileena was just angry and distraught. Once the anger and adrenalin faded, he would become reasonable. It was a pity about the timing, he wanted to explain what had happened, but Akileena was not ready to listen. Right now, Akileena just wanted to neutralise the threat to his kin. Why, then, was he working for Malithorn? Brynn's intuition told him that Akileena was protecting someone — both brothers were, but Akileena's memories were shielded too well for him to figure out who. What was definite, was that it was another member of the House of Debanikay.
Unlike the men yelling their threats and obscenities, Akileena rode quietly to the edge of the gorge. Enraged, blue-green eyes met calm, blue ones. 'I will make you accountable. Balance will be sought,' Akileena promised Brynn ominously.
'No,' Brynn denied with regret, still looking into the blue-green eyes. 'It is my will that you can no longer follow me or any thing or person you see here.'
Akileena's eyes widened as Brynn released his mental hold.
'No,' he whispered in denial. 'No,' disbelief added volume to the protest.
Brynn turned Sershja around, the charger happy to put some distance between himself and their pursuers.
Akileena watched the rebel mage and his companion ride off. He swore and glanced with contempt at the men still trying to organise themselves. Horses were everywhere, several refusing to calm as their riders tugged hard on their reins. It did not matter anyway, the rebel mage had left his wall up to prevent pursuit.
He looked back at the departing pair, the dust quickly consuming their presence. Seething with anger, Akileena swung his horse about, turning back towards Sal-Cirus. Who was this mage, this thief, the rebels had sent? He could recall no one that fit his description or level of skill. Akileena's head still ached from the effort of overcoming the command that sent him unconscious. There was also the command not to follow. The cursed mage had gone into his mind and changed it! Akileena swore again, it had been a long time since he had been thwarted in such a manner. He had not been able to gauge who the elvan female was, either, or if she was talented. The cursed mage had screened her from him. Was he protecting her, or was she there to protect him? She remained an unknown factor.
Akileena stopped himself and inhaled deeply several times. There was naught that could be immediately done. His first priority was Andarin. He had to get in with contact one of the mages in Venshui. Thane Curtin, would grant him the request if he asked politely, but asking Greyson would be pointless as Greyson would place the blame of his failed venture upon Akileena's shoulders. Curtin would know better and would judge Akileena more fairly. The Thane of Sal-Cirus was an opportunist, but essentially had a good soul. He might take advantage of the slaves, but he never beat them or condoned their abuse when it was within his authority. With Greyson, here, in Sal-Cirus, a request from the Thane of Sal-Cirus to Venshui would be received in Venshui by Greyson's second, thus bypassing Greyson.
He would also have to explain what had happened here without confirming Greyson's ridiculous assertion that the thief was also the elvan the Thane of Ancoulan was seeking. The last thing he wanted was to be swept up in Malithorn's obsessive search for the Saviour, because that would mean three things: having to be in regular contact with Colnba, having to work with Nathan Kennelm, and having to track an elvan he did not want to capture.
Akileena had the discouraging intuition that he was involved now, whether he liked it or not. If the cursed rebel had left Dematica alone, Andarin would not have gone to her aid and he could be on his way to Denas to see his daughter.
Akileena closed his eyes and sighed, seeing his daughter would mean another death. Another senseless killing. It was one thing to do it to protect a family or those who were helpless. Those he killed at Malithorn's direction were more difficult to rationalise. His daughter's life or theirs? That was the choice. Lea-ryn was the last female of the House of Debanikay, the last one to hold the innate talent of their line. If she ever found out how many times he chose her life and the cost of another's, would she ever forgive him?
Greyson cast an irritated glance at Akileena's departing back as he tugged hard on his reins to keep his horse from running off. He could not decide who he was most angered with, Akileena for failing to stop the thief or the thief for managing to escape.
At the same time, he was a little daunted. Akileena was a powerful mage, and he was nigh unto enraged by the attack on Dematica and his brother, although Greyson was not sure how Akileena's brother had managed to get involved. Andarin was his mage in Venshui, and should be doing no more than his set tasks. He would have to mete out a severe punishment for this infraction, whatever it turned out to be, when he returned to Venshui.
The only thing in Greyson's favour was that he was not directly responsible for these events, Thane Curtin had jurisdiction and therefore would be the one held accountable. Yet, he had instigated and lead the pursuit. How was he going to explain this to Curtin?
Akileena had been wrong in his confidence they could trap them with the gorge at their bac
ks. It was the mage's poor judgement that cost them this success. Despite his plan to make this assertion, Greyson thought that perhaps he should consider returning to Venshui rather than tarry in Sal-Cirus. He needed to distance himself from this. He might be able to handle Thane Curtin, but there was a possibility that the thief was connected to the elvan Thane Kennelm was looking for. That meant Kennelm might take an interest in him. And the Great Lord, too.
Greyson decided. The safest course was to place the responsibility of their failure on Akileena and then take his leave with the excuse that an unexpected urgency had called him back to Venshui.
Day 7 – Late Afternoon
Ancoulan
Jador registered that the blank look on the cook's face meant she would not risk discovery and the Thane's wrath. Impulsively the old tracker reached out, not grabbing her, but stopping her from turning away.
'Please, he is all the family I have left,' Jador pleaded, putting all his emotion in his face. 'I promised his father I would look after him.'
Jador felt his heart break as the cook closed her light-brown eyes slowly, her expression one of shame and apology, then she turned her back to him and returned to the kitchen. Jador closed his eyes also, he did not know how many more times he could do this. First the two maids and then the stable hand. After that he had tried one of the servants. The maids had straight out refused to speak, and the stable hand had acknowledged that Daniel was not in Ancoulan. The servant suggested he give the maids a try, and if not them, the cook, for he knew the maids went to her for comfort and advice. The cook certainly had enough turns on her to be a mother-like figure, her blonde hair more grey and her wrinkles telling him that once she laughed often and easily. If she was the person the staff confided in, it was evident she did the job well, being more interested in doing the listening, not the talking. That was probably how she had survived here, under Nathan's rule, so long.
No one would risk Nathan's wrath, and Jador could not blame them. The servants had seen the most brutal acts committed not just on prisoners, but children and other family members. Nathan seemed to prefer to cause pain through psychological torment. He had been heard to say it was the sweetest pain of all. Where there were kin to hand, the Thane didn't bother to touch the rebels, he just waited until they could not see their kin suffer any longer and they would reveal all.
It was rumoured that a servant used to slip prisoners a knife with which to make the end quick for the entire family. It was said that when Nathan finally traced the source, the whole staff was woken by the screams. Jador had heard the stories and believed they were part-true and part-exaggeration through a genuine and deep fear. Never-the-less, he could not ask of them this risk and feel angry if they refused to take it.
Daniel was lost, he could feel it. His nephew had stood up to the Thane one too many times and Nathan had decided to get rid of him. Edgar had disappeared in much the same way. One day his unit went out without him in the lead, and he never reappeared.
A soft, warm hand touched the old man's shoulder. Jador then realised that at some point he had fallen to his knees and he was crying. He looked up to see the cook's face. Tears filled her eyes too, although they had yet to spill over onto her cheeks. She looked up and down the narrow hall that ran behind the kitchen. Jador followed her gaze. He saw a small, scraggly servant boy at one end and a maid at the other, both with their backs to them. The cook knelt by his side and, with her finger, scrawled in the dust near the wall: At-hara. 6? Guards. She looked at him meaningfully and then back at the floor, before meeting his eyes one more time. Jador nodded and mouthed a thank you. Her expression was pained, as if she thought Daniel was probably dead already, but she spoke no words, merely used her rag to wipe the writing from the floor and rose. She patted Jador's shoulder again, gave him another sad look and started back towards the kitchen, tapping the maid on the shoulder as she passed her. A look passed between the cook and the maid that Jador could not interpret.
The maid approached him and bent to clutch him under his arm and raise him.
'There you are, Jador!' she exclaimed softly, her voice full of innocence, as if this was the very first moment she had laid eyes on him. 'Did you fall? Here, let me help you. These floors are uneven, you need to be more careful. Marhren's looking for you, did you know? He says your pony is ready. Thane Kennelm wanted you to return after you saw the healer for your arthritis, did he not?'
Jador nodded dumbly at her questions, and then, realising she must be speaking aloud for a reason, said, 'Yes, our lord thane has instructed me so, since I was the one who discovered the trail.'
He allowed the maid to guide him to the end of the hall, the underfed youth was gone. The maid patted the back of his arm like a mother might a child to get them moving. 'Well off with you, then. I gather you were heading to the kitchens to put in a request for supplies. Tarry not for that, I will see that cook gets the message, and the boy will take them to the stable. You best get your gear packed, you know it's unwise to be tardy when the Thane is expecting you.'
'Indeed, forgive an old man his failing memory and slow body,' Jador put all his gratefulness in the one brief look she allowed him before she whirled about and hurried back down the hall.
The act had been in case their memories were searched, which happened often here. The tracker paused, overwhelmed for a moment at how quickly Fate's path had changed. He would never be able to make it up to them, and if they got caught...
Oh, by Fate's mercy, please do not let them get caught!
Day 8 – Dawn
North Kenar Woods
(near Orchard Pass)
Janeth approached with a frown, which was not unusual for her. Even so, Riqu had a feeling she was frowning for a reason, the scowl was deeper than it was on most other occasions.
'Hanya and Fala came in yesterday,' she informed him, gesturing to two elvan sitting at the edge of the group.
Janeth was referring to the two sent by the rebel division who had spirited off the slaver's merchandise. The rest of the group still slept, however these two were quietly eating their morning meal. Like many other rebels Riqu had worked with, they were getting their meal in early so they could help serve the others when they woke.
Last eve Riqu had been in a meditative state, exploring the paths to find ones that would be safer to travel. When he came off the planes, he had discovered that everyone had turned in for the night. Therefore he had not actively welcomed Hanya and Fala when they came into camp, even though he was aware of their presence. Janeth was more than likely annoyed at him for this. She still expected him to employ the traditional elvan courtesies usual for his rank before the war.
'The reason they were delayed in arriving was that they were scouting the area to gauge patrol activity. They said we should remain here for two more days, possibly three, due to the patrol activity in the area,' Janeth informed him grimly.
Riqu looked at her with dismay. 'That long?'
Janeth shook her head as if to deny Riqu's objection. 'Two patrols are out this way investigating the deaths of the slavers in addition to the normal patrols. They said we should wait until they have moved on. Hanya also spoke to the group about the possibility of an island home. I believe their division has something set up on the coast.'
Riqu nodded. He knew this to be true, for turns South-East Eighth division had been sending ex-slaves to the smaller islands about Casinca and the Kanya-beyan islands. It was likely Hanya meant the Kanya-beyen Islands, though, for they were populated by his kin, who were also called Kanya-beyan. When the elvan originally settled Andarea, their golden-skin cousins had decided to populate the islands instead as the climate was similar to their original home. It was said that the Kanya-beyen knew the islands so well they could navigate to and around them blind-folded in a hurricane. Thus, it was not surprising Hanya had made the suggestion. In fact, Riqu would not be surprised if Hanya planned to visit family while he was there.
Janeth was still talking. 'Three of th
ose here said they would accept a coastal home most effusively, and two would join South-East Eighth, but the path will take them right by the patrols. Of the others, seven want to head south, three would like to go east and five want to take up positions with rebel bases in the north where they might encounter kin.'
'That is fine. Hanya can wait with his group until the patrols have moved on. He can also drop off the two who want to join South-East Eighth at their base along the way. Fala and Ria can split the seven who want to go south, I can take the northern group and you can take the three who want to go east.'
Janeth shook her head again.
Ah, Riqu thought, here is the reason for the deeper-than-usual frown.
'Fala cannot travel that far out. She is the only uninjured healer South-East Eighth has right now. They want her back soon. So she intends to travel with Hanya and escort the two to their base while Hanya goes on with the other three. You should know, Fala has had some difficulty with having to kill and Hanya was brought on to South-East Eighth as a means of support, so she no longer travels alone. They mainly sent her in case any here needed healing.'
Riqu's shoulders sagged. He had forgotten about Fala's situation. A group of seven was too large for one guide to manage.
'I could take southern group.' The two rebels started at the sound of Sentary's voice. He may not make much of a warrior, but he would be a phenomenal scout!
'Together with Hagen, we could manage five others,' Sentary added. 'That way, you and Ria could escort the group of five north, which, as I understand things from Hanya and Fala, would be easier for you.'
Janeth looked back to Riqu, her eyes giving her opinion in no disguised form — an inexperienced, newly-liberated slave had no place guiding a group of refugees.
'Can South-East Eighth send another?' Riqu asked Janeth.
