Amáne of Teravinea - The Prophecy (The Teravinea Series Book 2)

by D. Maria Trimble

  I bolted down the stairs as quickly as I could. These were cut in the same uneven pattern as the tower stairs I’d previously used — it felt like so long ago. Each castle has a pattern in which the heights of the risers in the stairs vary. This is to slow down an enemy who doesn’t know the pattern. I, fortunately did, thanks to Dorjan. I still didn’t want to take them too quickly as sometimes I lost count and missed a step. The last thing I wanted was to tumble headlong to the bottom.

  Arriving at the lower level, I sprinted again until I found the cross corridor. Veering right, I raced quite a distance to the hallway I sought. I turned left. A clamor up ahead caught my attention. Two guards turned the corner and headed straight for me with their pole axes at the ready. I turned on my heels and darted in the opposite direction. Passing the corridor I had just come from, heavy footsteps resounded ahead. My mouth went dry as two more soldiers turned the corner with their weapons readied.

  I stopped abruptly and doubled back again, hoping to make the corridor I had just passed. The other two had already reached it and blocked my way. There was no way out. I felt like a trapped animal, which was exactly what I was.

  Finding no other alternative, I had to fight — I was ready with my spear.

  “Eshshah!” I shouted in thought transference.

  “I’m with you, Amáne. Take your time. Use your head.” I felt a surge of her strength flow through me.

  Concerned about the egg slung over my shoulder, I knew it was essentially unbreakable, but somehow it didn’t feel right that I was going to have to jostle it. I wished it didn’t have to be present in a fight. But I had no choice.

  The first soldier to reach me obviously did not put much effort into his attack. He had sized me up. There were four of them and only one of me — and not very much of me, considering my size. He showed no doubt that I would be taken without much resistance. Pity for him. He went down easier than he should have. As he lunged at me with his halberd, I dodged, stepped aside and ran him through.

  “May you rest with your ancestors,” I had the presence to say.

  Pulling my spear free, I faced the second guard. He was now too close to use my blade. I jumped clear as he swung. Ending up behind him, I turned and tripped him up with the butt-end of my spear. Finding his ribs between his loosely buckled breastplate, I thrust my blade in. He fell.

  In an instant I turned to face the other two men. The lead guard brought his halberd down heavily. I dove to my right. Cradling the egg, I rolled to my feet. His axe head stuck in the dirt floor. Abandoning it, he drew his sword. Before I could parry, he thrust it at my chest. Had I not worn Eshshah’s dragonscale breastplate, I would have been run through. The air forced out of my lungs and I stumbled backwards a couple steps. I recovered my breath and gained my balance. He’d made his move too soon. The distance he kept proved to my advantage. The force of his thrust was not enough to make me lose my footing. That’s going to leave a nasty bruise I thought, but the alternative would have been disastrous.

  My opponent hesitated, incredulity on his face. It should have been a fatal blow. In the next breath, I hooked his sword with my glaive. As it flew from his hand, I finished him off. I turned to face my fourth and last adversary — ready for his attack.

  Behind him, further down the hallway, a door flew open. I caught a swift glimpse of a high ranking official. He shouted, “Garritt! Stay your weapon! We need the boy alive.”

  “He’s taken out three of us,” Garritt shouted back. “He does not deserve to live, Lord Duer, he shall see his ancestors this moment.” Garritt pulled his halberd back for the blow — death glinted in his eyes.

  The name by which he addressed this new arrival stunned me. I froze.

  Garritt did not follow orders, but swung his halberd. I bent forward, barely in time, ducking as his blade came around. I wasn’t quick enough to evade his strike. His axe-head caught the top of my hat, ripping it off, along with a handful of my hair. The rest of my hair was loosened. It tumbled down in a tangled mass. In a fluid motion his blade traced a graceful arc and came back at me from the opposite direction. I had just straightened up — the halberd leveled at my neck. My weight on my back leg allowed me to bend backwards. I threw my head back and to the left as the blade whizzed by, taking a nick out of my jaw.

  Duer drew his sword and rushed at me. In an instant I reformulated my strategy to fight the two. To my shock Duer did not set upon me, but struck Garritt down.

  I turned toward him and readied my spear, but found him with his mouth agape. The bloodied sword in his hand hung limp at his side. I stared at the man, shaking my head in denial. My heart stopped. My eyes went wide as I recognized a familiarity about his face. Similar features had stared at me from the looking glass. That truth, and his name left me no doubt — this man was my father.

  A hatred, like a poison, burned through me — a fury I had never known. Red flashed before my eyes, wanting nothing more than to see this man’s head roll. More than ready to bring my lifelong desire to fruition, I lunged. But I stayed my blade before it struck. He didn’t counter. I hesitated, waiting for him to make a move. But he just stood there.

  “Are you going to fight or be the coward I always knew you were?”

  Duer ignored my taunt.

  I kept my eye on him, and said through gritted teeth, “Raise your sword, Duer, so I can finish you without conscience.”

  “Amáne,” warned Eshshah in my thoughts, “show mercy. Don’t let hatred guide a poor decision.”

  “Mercy, Eshshah?” I silently screamed in thought transference. “Like he showed to my mother and me?”

  Without any more deliberation, I raised my spear high and brought the point down with as much force as I could — driving it into the ground, just a hair’s breadth from his foot. I stood in front of him, shaking from anger and a host of other emotions that fought for dominance.

  “Catriona,” he whispered as he stared at me. “You have her eyes and the same crease between them when she got angry.”

  I didn’t respond. My jaw hurt from clenching my teeth.

  “So ... she remarried?” He asked slowly.

  I huffed a contemptuous laugh. “No!” — No, you idiot, she loved only you. I thought to myself.

  As sudden as a Valaira, comprehension hit him. “Then you are ... my ...”

  Nothing would come out of my mouth. All these years — all my life — I’ve wanted to find this man. I’d first let him know what he missed, and let it sink in. Then I would send him to his ancestors. I had gone over and over it in my mind. I had rehearsed it. I had dreamed it. Trained for it when I used to fight with Kail. But now, here he stood. My glaive still vibrated from the force I had just used to bury the point at his feet. I could say nothing — or do nothing.

  “What did she name you?”

  “Amáne.”

  “Amáne,” he said slowly, dream-like, as if it were a pleasant taste on his tongue “... a very beautiful name. You have your mother’s voice.”

  “Don’t call me Amáne, here. I came as Vann and must remain Vann, until my job is done.”

  “And Catriona — how is she?” He asked with a far-away look in his eye — memories of a happier time.

  I bit my lip to keep it from trembling.

  His sword clattered to the floor. Falling to his knees, he sat back on his heels, and put his hands to his face. I felt foolish standing in front of this broken man with my hand on the hilt of my sword. I slowly worked the blade of my glaive from the dirt, knowing he was not going to move against me — he was a guilt-ridden wreck of a man. Another episode in my life where I got exactly what I had wished for. But again, my victory was bitter. I felt no satisfaction whatsoever. My desire to end his life faded.

  He pressed his lips together briefly, then whispered. “May she rest with her ancestors and may she forgive me if I even deserve to find her there.”

  Wiping the blood from my jaw, I started wrapping my hair again, securing it back to the top of my head. I
winced when a pin found the raw spot where my hair had been ripped out. Picking up my hat, I pinned it on, becoming Vann again. All the while not taking my eye off of Duer.

  He stood up slowly and picked up his sword. After wiping it clean, he sheathed it. Opening the door from which he had come, he motioned for me to enter.

  “Come Vann, it’s my duty to get you out of here.”

  I looked at him, puzzled. “You’re Dorjan’s man inside?”

  Duer rushed me through a series of rooms, and hallways, locking the doors behind us. I finally had the chance to ask, “Why are you here? I was told you were called away on an errand.”

  “I was. No one knows I’ve not yet left. I knew how important this mission was going to be, and I felt it necessary to stay, until the egg was safely out.”

  We traveled quickly through the corridors beneath the castle and although it was not the route I’d planned on taking, I had a good idea of where I was. I started to relax — we were making good time to the Castle Outpost where Eshshah and Bern waited.

  I felt Eshshah’s relief as the situation came under control. And I knew that relief spread back to the Healer and Gallen.

  “Why are you doing this, Duer?”

  He ushered me into what looked like a supply room. Chairs stacked in one corner, large casks of wine crowded most of the small space.

  Locking the door behind him, he turned to me. “We’ll be safe in here for a bit. Sit down and catch your breath.” He pulled a chair over, then reached in his sleeve and handed me his handkerchief.

  “I can’t deliver you to your friends with blood all over your face.” His blue eyes crinkled at the edges.

  For lack of water, I used my saliva to wet the cloth and blotted the gash on my jaw.

  Duer lowered himself wearily into a chair in front of me. “The answer to your question is a long one. I’ll make it short.”

  Taking a deep breath, he hesitated, trying to formulate his words. He exhaled slowly. “When I met your mother, she was just a bit older than you — you look so much like her. Her family ran the pottery guild and she usually worked their booth at the marketplace. I found myself at that booth often — vying for her attention. Her parents had other plans — a betrothal arrangement — but I had her heart.

  “I was foolish and wanted a position in Galtero’s court so I could have something to offer Catriona. I didn’t realize at the time, who Galtero really was — a tyrant greedy for wealth and power — the one who orchestrated the deaths of the Royal Family. After he assumed the throne, he cared for his subjects for the sole purpose of obtaining more treasure. Then he heard about the prophecy. Are you familiar with it?”

  “Not very. I’ve only just recently heard about it.”

  “It starts, ‘From the Guild of Clay she shall emerge.

  The Kingdom’s bane in hopes to purge...’

  “Galtero had his sorcerers and wise men working on interpreting the meaning for quite some time. They came to the conclusion that it had something to do with Catriona. Knowing I was anxious to prove myself to him, Galtero ordered me to send her to her ancestors.”

  I gasped.

  “Yes, and he knew I had an interest in her, so it was that much more evil of him to choose me for the deed. Galtero’s decision worked against him, for it enabled me to protect her. I had a plan and told him I would be gone for some time as I could not take her life here in the City of Teravinea.

  “I didn’t tell her of the plot, but pleaded my love to her and convinced her to run away with me. She didn’t oppose. She loved me and didn’t want to marry whom her parents had chosen. We married privately and stole out in the middle of the night. I felt she would be safest at the furthest point of the kingdom — Dorsal.

  “We traveled for several days. Those were the best days of my life. Catriona loved the outdoors, sleeping under the stars and angling. She must have fished every body of water between here and Dorsal.”

  I nodded, “It always was one of her favorite things to do. She taught me to love it just as much as she did.”

  A faint smile curved his lips. “I stayed as long as I dared in Dorsal. I didn’t want to leave, but felt she would be safer without me, until Galtero was dethroned. I told her I had to go back to the City of Teravinea, but would return as soon as I could. Truthfully, I meant it. But the days turned to months and the months to years.

  “There hasn’t been a day gone by that I didn’t want to run back to your mother. But if I did, her safety would have been in jeopardy. I did the next best thing I could — I protected her from this distance. I stayed in Galtero’s court and secretly joined in the cause of the dragon riders to overthrow Galtero and crown a new king.

  “Once a new king gained the throne, I could go back to Dorsal — to my Catriona. I didn’t think it would take this long, and now I’m too late. I should have taken her to Serislan or somewhere further, and never come back.” His voice trailed off.

  My heart broke at his anguish and my tears flowed freely, the salt stinging the gash in my jaw.

  “Dorjan recently told me they now have someone qualified to take the throne.”

  My heart skipped a beat.

  He continued, “I now have renewed hope. I’ll continue to work with the riders — for you.” He stopped as comprehension dawned. Looking at me, his eyebrows raised, he said, “You ... you’re a Chosen One.”

  I gave a slight nod. He saluted me with pride, which brought more tears to my eyes as I acknowledged his respect.

  “The prophecy, was true, then,” he said. “Galtero’s wise men were correct in fearing your mother. Although it was not Catriona that became the rider, but her daughter ... our daughter.”

  Duer paused, then sighed heavily and rose from his chair. “I could gaze at you forever, but we both have our duties. I will see you safely to the outpost and you will deliver the egg to your leader. Come, we’ve tarried long enough.”

  He unlocked the door, then moved slowly into the corridor. His hand raised to signal that I wait. Duer surveyed the area and then motioned for me to follow. We made our way quickly through another succession of turns.

  Nearing the outpost, I marveled at how quickly this quest had gone. I would be back in Dorsal sooner than I’d expected. My relief was short-lived — a commotion echoed further ahead. I grabbed Duer’s arm and whispered, “Several men are heading this way.”

  “Go then! That way.” He pointed back toward the way we had come. “Left at the corridor we just passed and then left again and you will be heading in the correct direction. I’ll take care of these men.”

  I’d just met my father, and wasn’t yet ready to separate from him. There was so much I needed to ask him. So much to know about my mother and about him. In my wildest dreams this scenario would never have happened. It was almost impossible to tear myself away, until I heard bootsteps and the clink of weapons drawing nearer. I couldn’t afford to get caught — my quest was nearly accomplished. It would also put Duer’s life in danger. I couldn’t chance that.

  “Thank you.” I said through my tears. I turned to run.

  “Amáne —”

  I stopped short and spun around to face him.

  “I’m calling you by the name she gave you — Amáne,” he repeated. “There is one thing I ask of you.”

  “Yes?”

  “Will you sometime in the future find it in your heart to forgive me?”

  “No, Father. I forgive you now.” Holding my spear in one hand, I threw my free arm around his neck and gave him a kiss on his cheek. With one last look, I turned and raced toward the other corridor.

  Without delay I found the alternate route and sprinted toward safety. I could taste victory. I would soon be returning to face Lord Ansel. If he didn’t wish to continue our friendship, at least I will have proven to him that he made the right decision to send me.

  My heart sank when I heard the clashing of weapons. I stopped in my tracks and turned back.

  “Eshshah, I need to go back and he
lp my father!”

  “No, Amáne. He has his duty and you have yours. An alarm has been sounded and they’re searching for you. Continue to the outpost. You’re almost here.”

  “I’ve only just found him. I can’t lose him so soon.”

  “Head this way, Amáne,” she repeated. “Healer’s orders.”

  I’d learned my lesson some time ago about obeying the Healer’s orders. I didn’t want to abandon my father, but I had my duty. I had no choice but to comply.

  I exhaled, “Tell the Healer I’m on my way.”

  I spun back around and rushed toward the safety of the outpost and Eshshah, but froze mid-step as a door ahead of me flew open and several men poured out. They turned, spotted me, drew their weapons and rushed in my direction.

  My delay had cost me dearly. I surprised myself when a curse left my lips.

  I came upon a door to my left. I dove for it and hoped to find it unlocked. Even though I had Aperio’s key, I wouldn’t have the time to use it — the guards were closing on me.

  Thankfully, it opened. I stumbled into a large room. Turning, I drove my body against the door. But not in time. The butt end of a spear was thrust in the crack. I pushed with all my might to keep the man from entering, but with no luck — I could feel another join him. There was nothing within reach to put in front of the door to secure it, nor would I be able to hold it much longer.

  My head spun — panic threatened. I felt Eshshah’s concern as she tried to calm me. Transferring the satchel to my front side, I put my back to the door and pushed with my legs. I couldn’t allow the egg to be captured and brought back to the hatching grounds.

  To my right, and just out of reach, stood a tall crate, the lid ajar. I pulled the silk satchel off over my head, and wrapped it tightly around the egg. Using my glaive, I strained to open the top of the crate, while still keeping pressure against the door. My legs shook from the effort, sweat dripped into my eyes. I had one chance to save the egg.