The Wandering War--The Sleeping King Trilogy, Book 3

by Cindy Dees

  A large man with iron-colored hair trying to go gray stepped forward. Kadir. This was the man who’d forced her to run away from home in the first place. Her mother’s lover, and her father. Well, her parent by birth, not the man who’d raised her.

  Kadir said gently, “Our tower is deep in the wild lands, Emissary. It would take you weeks or months to rejoin your friends on foot.”

  “Take it off, or I leave now,” she declared, holding out her forearm.

  “Go ahead,” Weasel said. “Remove it if she so wishes.”

  Raina frowned. He sounded almost pleased that she’d insisted on losing their rune. As if she’d played into his hands and was now effectively trapped in this place, wherever it might be. Hating feeling outmaneuvered, she silently lectured herself to rein in her anger at these men and not let them use it against her again.

  Kadir laid his hand on her mark, and one of his own runes, inscribed on the left side of his neck and disappearing down into the neck of his tunic, began to glow. She felt a surge of heat, a brief, painful sensation, and then nothing. He removed his big, gentle hand from her arm, and the mark was gone.

  “Satisfied?” Weasel asked, almost, but not quite, gloating.

  She ignored him and instead looked at Kadir. “Your invitation said you wished to speak with me. So speak.”

  “You’ve been woken and dragged from your rest. Perhaps you would like to finish your night’s sleep? Or take a meal? Something to drink?”

  She couldn’t fault his hospitality, but he was stalling. “I’m wide awake, thank you. The work of a healer takes place around the clock, and I am accustomed to being woken when the last grains of sand trickle from the hourglasses.”

  “Our high proctor is not a young man, and he needs his sleep. I’m sure he will be pleased to speak with you in the morning.”

  With all these rune-marked mages staring at her like she was some sort of freak, she felt like an act at a bad circus. She was far too nervous to eat or sleep. “If I cannot speak to your leader, I would be pleased to speak with all of you. Tell me more about yourselves.”

  The instant pucker of reluctance throughout the group was tangible. Not interested in giving up their secrets, were they? Duly noted. They wanted something out of her, then. She would be happy to make them work for it if that was how they wanted to play this meeting.

  Weasel turned out to have a name. Elfonse. And a rank. Proctor. The same rank Justin had murmured to Kadir in greeting as they blinked into this gathering.

  Kadir said smoothly, not betraying any of the tension in the room, “As you know, we are an ancient order, dedicated to the study and preservation of magic.”

  Her mouth twitched as much in anger as in humor. “Is that what you call forcing the daughters of Tyrel to participate in your breeding program?”

  Weasel-Elfonse responded sharply, “It’s not as if you’ve suffered from being able to cast large quantities of magic.”

  She bit back a sarcastic rejoinder about enjoying using her magic to thwart the mages and, rather than rise to the bait, merely smiled serenely. “Indeed, I have not suffered from that.” The rest of the sentence hung unspoken in the air. She had suffered greatly in other ways at their hands, however.

  Uncomfortable silence settled over the room. Not only were they all men who acted as if they hadn’t seen a woman in a while and had no idea what to do with one, but she gathered that they didn’t get out in social situations much. She took pity and broke the silence.

  “Tell me more about these runic marks you wear. Are they some sort of warding magic?”

  The group latched on to her conversational lifeline and spoke eagerly of their research in how to create permanent, warding-like symbols on humans and make the symbols movable. It got too technical for her very quickly, but she did glean a few interesting tidbits from the mages’ animated explanations.

  The marks could apparently store anything from small, common spells to the largest ritual magics. Each mark had to correspond to a single magical effect, however, and the mage powered the mark with his own store of magical energy. Plus, there were apparently several subgroups within the Mages of Alchizzadon, each one studying something different from the others. One of the acolytes even let it slip casually that different types of Mages of Alchizzadon identified themselves with unique marks.

  She let the remark pass and did her best to pretend she hadn’t noticed it. The talkative acolyte was hushed, and the topic turned away to the difficulties in making runic marks portable.

  Kadir and Justin both had a curly squiggle under their right ear. Was that the mark of their order? Weasel and several of the men clustered around him had tiny swords under their right ears. She looked around the room and saw no other marks. She cast back in her memory to the day she and her friends had closed the gate in Rahael. The keeper of the Dominion gate had a small star under his right ear. She’d mistaken it for an earring until she’d gotten a good look at the fellow after he was neutralized.

  So. Three orders at a minimum, if she was correct about those being their identifying marks. The other runes on the mages’ exposed skin were much larger and somewhat faded in color, like they got used a lot. Kadir’s order—the Squiggles—were obviously involved with the daughters of Tyrel directly. What did the others do?

  She had probably poked around enough for one night if she didn’t want to raise suspicions regarding her motives in being here. She murmured, “Although I am used to late nights and little sleep, I suspect all of you are not. I will retire and let you gentlemen get some rest. There will be plenty of time to talk tomorrow.”

  Kadir and Justin ushered her and Cicero into a windowless hallway and down a steep, circular stair to a lower level and their rooms. Cicero’s was several doors down the hall from hers. Was this place underground, like the Black Widow had said? It would explain the disconcerting lack of windows. It was lavishly furnished, but in an ancient style, and the walls were built of massive stones roughly hewn into rectangles the size of tables. Although her room was large, with tapestries covering the walls, well lit by lamps and candles, it still felt prisonlike.

  “One of the acolytes will be just outside at all times should you need anything,” Kadir murmured.

  Which was to say she would be guarded and not be allowed to wander the tower. Her sense of being a prisoner intensified. What in the world had she walked into? She gave herself a little internal speech about how the Mages of Alchizzadon wouldn’t provoke the Royal Order of the Sun by harming her, but she didn’t believe herself for a minute.

  * * *

  Will helped Rosana climb down out of the tree as morning broke around them. How Raina had managed to get out of the tree last night in her cumbersome skirts without anyone hearing her was a mystery to him. Obviously, she’d left to go off to her meeting and had taken Cicero with her. Will was relieved that the stalwart kindari was with her. He’d been her fierce protector last year in the Forest of Thorns and would take good care of her this time, too. And as much of a goody-goody as Raina could be, Will was genuinely fond of her. She had grit beneath her prissy ways. Stars knew, she’d saved his life more times than he could count with her seemingly endless well of healing.

  Rosana picked the thought out of his brain as she often did. “I’m glad she took Cicero with her. How do you suppose they snuck away without us waking? I’ll bet Raina cast sleep spells on us.”

  “Could be,” he replied. “Or the mages could have given her an item that would let her portal to them directly.”

  “Such an item would be awfully expensive to make.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t think money’s an object where the Mages of Alchizzadon are concerned.”

  Rosana sighed. “If only I had known about the perpetual poverty of the Heart, I would have chosen my guild differently.”

  Will laughed and tweaked her nose gently. “No, you wouldn’t. You’re a healer all the way down to your shoes.”

  She smiled up at him. “You’re right, of
course.”

  Rynn, ever practical, asked the party in general, “After we grab a bite to eat, then what are we to do? Stay here and wait for Raina’s return? Or mayhap follow a lead and try to find Kendrick?”

  Sha’Li piped up. “We could try to find Eliassan’s bow. If the legends are correct, it’s hidden somewhere in this part of Haelos.”

  “Haelos is a big place,” Rynn replied. “You’ll have to narrow down your search area quite a bit if you hope to find the bow.”

  Sha’Li reached into her belt pouch. “Maybe this will help.” She held out a perfectly straight and beautifully fletched arrow. The head was gold, and the shaft was made of some rich, red wood inlaid with the finest threads of gold hammered flat.

  “What is it?” Rosana asked.

  Sha’Li replied dryly, “An arrow.”

  The party laughed, and Will commented, “It’s quite a fancy arrow.”

  “I should hope so,” Sha’Li replied. “It’s said to be one of Gawaine’s arrows.”

  “Where did you get that?” Will exclaimed.

  “From the bronze lizardman. He thought it might help us one day.”

  Rosana said, “Even if that arrow can help us find Gawaine’s bow, how will Raina find us if we move from this place?”

  Rynn snorted. “You ask that as if the permanent residents of this wold don’t know everything that goes on and where everyone is in these woods.”

  Will responded, “Are you willing to stake Raina’s life, and maybe ours, on that?”

  Rynn shrugged. “If we tell the locals to be on the watch for her, they’ll find her. We can either leave a trail for her to follow or simply leave word as to where she should rendezvous with us.”

  Will didn’t like that idea. A trail Raina could follow would be a trail Anton’s thugs could follow. “We have too many enemies to leave trail sign that leads them right to us.”

  Eben piped up. “I do not need Imperial hounds on my trail ever again.”

  “Or Anton Constantine,” Rosana added.

  “Or Imperial soldiers,” Rynn added fervently. “That Thanon fellow took far too much interest in Raina. If he hears she’s gone missing, he’ll come out here with his entire unit to track her down.”

  Will actually liked Thanon and his elite team of highly trained soldiers, but he could understand why an open-eyed paxan would think Thanon on their trail was a bad idea.

  Sha’Li grinned. “We won’t lay a trail down here. We’ll lay it up there”—she pointed up toward the canopy of trees overhead—“where the local kindari can follow it and lead Raina to us.”

  Will returned the grin, impressed. Most soldiers did not think in the third, vertical dimension. He made a mental note to study it further when they got home. Although once again, home seemed far away, an unattainable dream.

  Sha’Li changed subjects abruptly. “Eben, you’re a dowser. Do you think you can use Gawaine’s arrow as a dowsing rod and get it to point toward the king’s bow?”

  Eben frowned. “You’re assuming that arrow is real and that Eliassan’s bow was actually Gawaine’s. We can’t be certain of either. Furthermore, the arrow may have no link to the bow.”

  Sha’Li shoved the arrow into the jann’s hand. “Just try.”

  Will watched with interest as Eben suspended the arrow shaft’s balance point from a length of silk fishing thread. The horizontal arrow spun lazily, first one way, then the other, as Eben closed his eyes. Nothing happened. The arrow turned aimlessly like a magnet with no pole to seek.

  But then Rynn put his hand on Eben’s shoulder and closed his eyes as well. Will fancied that he actually felt a wave of mental power emanate from Rynn. Abruptly, the arrow stopped spinning with the golden arrowhead pointing to the northwest.

  “How did you do that?” Will exclaimed.

  Eben’s and Rynn’s eyes popped open, and the arrow went slack, twirling back and forth once more. “What? What happened?” Eben demanded.

  Rosana declared, “Your dowsing gave us our direction of travel. What lies north and west of here?”

  Rynn snorted. “Three quarters of Haelos.”

  Sha’Li asked practically, “With Cicero gone, who will guide us out of this wold?”

  Will winced. The job would fall to him, and he could only hope that Bloodroot would somehow help him find their way. Although there were plenty of trails through this cursed forest, they seemed to go in circles and required a native to navigate them.

  Eben murmured to Rynn, “I’m not sure what you did, but it helped. Thanks be.”

  “I but enhanced the power of your own mind,” Rynn replied. “One day you will be able to do it without my help.”

  Will frowned. A paxan could enhance a person’s mind power? Sometimes Rynn genuinely gave him the creeps.

  They walked through the day, such as it was in the perpetual half night of the forest floor, stopping now and then to rest and eat. Will judged it was nearing sundown by the growling in his belly when Rynn, who’d taken a turn up front, froze abruptly, in the way of a soldier spotting an unexpected enemy.

  It took Will a moment to spot what had caused Rynn to freeze like that. Flashes of light were flying back and forth in front of them from left to right. They resembled bolts of his yellow force magic when he threw it in combat, except these were green in tint. Faint shouts became audible. A pair of mages, and perhaps other warriors, were engaging in fierce combat in front of them.

  Very slowly, Rynn sank to his haunches, and Will and the others followed suit. Crawling forward on hands and knees, they cautiously approached the fight.

  Flat on his belly, Will stared in shock as he peeked out from under a dying sapling draped in thick, choking vines. Kerryl Moonrunner was under attack, and Kendrick, in human form but with his left eye glowing furious scarlet, was pacing behind him in frustration. Had Kerryl perhaps ordered Kendrick not to join the fight? How was it their friend had not transformed into his bestial were-form given how agitated he clearly was?

  To Will’s left, an aged but hardy man wearing a great, hairy bear hide draped over his left shoulder and belted to his waist fired bolts of nature magic at Kerryl as fast as Kerryl fired the same type of magics back. To Will’s knowledge, only the most powerful of hunters and nature guardians were able to master such magic.

  Will noted the thick, long bear spear slung across the older man’s back and the bear’s claw he wielded in his off hand. From the belt that held down the bearskin hung a long braid of what looked like red human hair. Who was this new nature guardian, and why did he attack Kerryl?

  Rynn gasped, and Will breathed into his ear, “Who’s the bear guy?”

  Rynn whispered back, “One of the People of the Hide. You call them hydesmyn. If I don’t miss my guess, that’s Berengar, an ancient and famous Tribe of the Moon hunter. He should be hibernating at this time of year, but something obviously brought him out of his winter’s sleep.”

  “Why’s he attacking Kerryl?” Will followed up.

  “No idea.”

  From his other side, Sha’Li whispered, “Help him we must!” In her agitation, her speech had reverted to its old patterns.

  “Help Berengar kill Kerryl?” Will responded.

  “Nay! Help Kerryl we must.”

  Eben retorted, “Why would we help that scum? He kidnapped our friend and turned him into a monster.”

  “Were-creatures are not monsters!” Sha’Li hissed back. “Gifted servants of Lunimar they are. Kendrick trusts Kerryl enough to stay with him, and trust Kendrick we should.”

  Eben subsided scowling.

  Rynn joined the whispers, saying, “We rescued Kendrick, but he chose Kerryl. That negates Kerryl’s crime of kidnapping in my mind. And we think Kerryl led us to that cache in the Angor Swamp and then led us to the unicorn. He helped defend us when the Cabal attacked us. He is not our enemy, Eben. At least not anymore.”

  “He turned Kendrick into a were-boar. He is not our friend either,” Eben growled back.

  Will
turned to Rynn. “What do you know of this Berengar?”

  “He’s a hunter. One of the Tribe of the Moon’s protectors of nature. Hunters work closely with nature guardians.”

  “Then why is Berengar trying to kill Kerryl?” Will demanded.

  Rynn shrugged.

  Rosana cut in. “We must decide to help Kerryl or not quickly because his magic appears to be failing. And once that hunter closes on Kerryl with his claw and spear, Kerryl is done for.”

  Eben glared at Sha’Li, who glared back.

  Will broke the stalemate by saying, “I have questions for Kerryl. I say we save him now, and if we don’t like his answers, we kill him later.”

  Rosana shook her head. “We can’t kill him—”

  “You can’t, but I can,” Eben declared.

  Will murmured, “We’re decided, then? We save Kerryl?”

  There were nods all around, some more reluctant than others, but nods.

  He murmured, “Sha’Li, circle behind Berengar and do your rogue thing on him. Rynn, can you pass behind Berengar and come up on his left flank? Eben, you approach him from the front, and I will take the right. Rosana, you head for Kerryl and heal him as soon as you can. He looks badly hurt.”

  He gestured for them to go, and they all moved out swiftly and silently. Will could not believe the amount of magic he’d witnessed being used in this duel. Kerryl had shifted to throwing globes of poison gas at his foe, and Berengar was now casting some sort of protective spell on himself at high speed, one to replace each shield blown by Kerryl’s poison gases.

  When he judged that the others were in place, Will charged, shouting at the top of his lungs. He hoped to break Berengar’s concentration and buy Sha’Li a moment to surprise the hunter from behind.

  Now they had to hope that, in his futile rage, Kendrick recognized them and did not identify them as new threats to Kerryl. Otherwise, Kendrick could still transform and kill them all.

  * * *

  Raina woke to a hard bed and total darkness that lay heavily upon her like a pile of quilts. Disoriented and afraid, she called magic to her hands, using its faint glow to illuminate the blackness. A bedroom. Ancient tapestries. Carved furniture. Her location came back to her. What time was it?