Ruin Mist Chronicles Bundle

by Robert Stanek

  The room started to swirl around her, twisting and turning round and round. She began to lose her balance. She fought to steady herself. Father Jacob caught her and ferried her back into bed. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and imploring, and said, “We must leave now. I know where he is. Just as the lady said, the ship did not reach Alderan.”

  Father Jacob was sure Adrina was talking gibberish again. She had said many things in her fevered state. “Child, you must rest. Tomorrow will bring a new day. The others will return soon enough.”

  “No, you don’t understand. Get Keeper Martin. He understands, he will listen to me.”

  “I am afraid they have already departed. You have been asleep for quite some time. Now please get some rest, my child,” said Jacob. He pulled heavy blankets up around Adrina to keep the girl warm.

  Adrina wanted to say something else but Jacob silenced her and again bade her to sleep. As Jacob turned away, she grabbed his arm and squeezed as hard as she could to gain his attention. She didn’t want to sleep—at least, not yet. Once she had his attention, she stared straight into his eyes and stated in a calm, portentous manner, “When did they leave?… We must go now before it is too late.”

  Father Jacob was taken aback by her words, something told him to listen to her. “Slow down, Adrina. I am afraid I don’t understand. Tell me of the dream?”

  After a brief moment of silence, Adrina said, “It was in my dreams, father. I saw Prince William and he spoke to me. I know where he is and he urgently needs our help… There is something wrong.”

  “You are full of fever. Prince William is in Alderan. No harm could have befallen him there.”

  Adrina closed her eyes for a moment though she did not let go of Jacob’s arm. “No, the ship from Wellison did not complete the journey. The voices, the message, Father Jacob, it was all real… You must believe me. If only Keeper Martin were here. He would understand.”

  “I believe you, young princess,” said Father Jacob, “but you are in no condition to travel.”

  Adrina regarded Father Jacob with serious eyes. “Are you patronizing me?”

  “You close your eyes and rest now. I’ll see if I can arrange travel accommodations.” Jacob nodded his head wearily. He wasn’t convinced it was a good idea to leave Fraddylwicke Castle. He departed Adrina’s chamber with troubled thoughts filling his mind. His hope was that the girl would be fast asleep when he returned.

  But as soon as Father Jacob left, Adrina gathered her strength and sat up. She stretched her arms and her sore back with a hefty, stretching-yawn. A few minutes passed without movement as she attempted to shake dizziness away. Eventually the room did stop moving. She slipped over to the side of the bed and placed her feet on the floor.

  Carefully she reached out, grasped her boots, then slipped her feet into them. A bit wobbly, she stood up and looked about the chamber. Bright daylight pouring in through a terraced doorway instantly caught her attention. She walked out onto the balcony and squinted at the bright orange of the sun, which to her astonishment was midway in the sky.

  She rushed back into the chamber, which seemed suddenly dark. She stumbled. She had moved too fast. She pressed up against the frame of the door and held herself there for several long breaths while her eyes slowly readjusted to the dimness of the interior.

  After a quick scan for belongings in the unfamiliar room, she prepared to leave. Instinctively, she checked her hair in the large mirror that stood beside the door on her way out. Her hair was a mess. She ran her fingers through it to straighten it. Abruptly she stopped what she was doing and stared at her reflection. Something wasn’t right. It took her a moment to realize she was wearing a nightgown. To have put her boots on while she still wore bed clothes. Whatever was she thinking?

  She wasn’t thinking.

  Her head ached on one side—a dull throbbing that numbed her awareness—as if she had been kicked, and a large swollen area on the right side of her skull attested to this fact. She touched it gingerly and winced.

  Think clearly, think clearly. She tensed up and took a couple of deep breaths, trying to concentrate. All right, now what was I doing?

  It took her a moment to remember and only after staring into the mirror again did she finally realize what she needed to do next.

  “Riding clothes, riding clothes,” she muttered to herself.

  At the opposite end of the large chamber was a partial wall-divider, which she finally realized was where the dressing area must be. I knew that. Where was my brain?

  Adrina touched the lump on the side of her head. She screamed out, “Ouch!” Her brain was there—in pain.

  It was a slow methodical shuffle to the divider and even slower changing into her riding clothes that were clean and thankfully dry—she recalled now that they had been wet, that she had been wet.

  A dull thump sounded at the door as she was dressing and Adrina shouted, “Just a moment—”

  “Oo, ouch!” she moaned. Her head throbbed with pain. No more shouting.

  It took a few more careful minutes before Adrina finished dressing and walked over to open the door. She opened it to find Father Jacob standing solemnly, a deep-set frown on his face.

  “I was hoping you would be fast asleep when I returned,” he said, as he stepped into the chamber.

  “No such luck,” said Adrina with heedful volume so as not to cause her head to pound any more than it already did.

  “You are still flushed with fever. A day’s delay will cause little harm. I am concerned about your health, child, more than anything else. That was a nasty fall. You need to rest.”

  “There will be plenty of time to rest later, Father Jacob.”

  Father Jacob started to reply. Adrina reached out and took his hand in hers. “I must do this, Father Jacob.” She spoke with sincerity.

  She started to lead Jacob into the hall and as he stepped back into the corridor, he stopped. “Wait a minute, am I crazy? I didn’t want to do this, but if I have to… Get back into that bed this instant, you will sleep!”

  Adrina stepped deftly passed Father Jacob. “This will not wait, father. He is dying, I know it. Did you know—” Hesitant, she stopped herself from saying anything more.

  Jacob took a step toward her. “Go on,” he said.

  “It was only the voice at first, calling out, but then I started to see things. It was as if I were traveling a great distance. There was so much I know I saw that I cannot recollect, so much, Father Jacob… The vision first led me out to sea, then to the southern coast—”

  “Did you?” asked Jacob, “No, of course you didn’t, did you?”

  “Did I what, Father Jacob?”

  “At any rate, we cannot leave until Captain Brodst recovers. I would not hear the last of it if I left him in Fraddylwicke Castle with the Baron and Baroness.”

  Adrina nearly fell as the words hit her. Father Jacob fought to ferry her back to bed but she wouldn’t let him. “Who leads the column to Alderan?”

  “The second in command was Captain Trendmore. He assumed command after Captain Brodst’s unfortunate accident. He waited until late this morning, but couldn’t wait any longer. With Prince Valam’s arrival in Alderan in three days, he had to leave. It will take a miracle—” Jacob glanced heavenward. “—for them to make that march in three days. I am sure Captain Brodst said it would take at least five.”

  Adrina’s face turned deathly pale. Now she understood why the detachment had turned south for Quashan’. Now she understood why so much was at stake in Alderan. “Prince Valam is to meet the ship from Wellison, the ship carrying Prince William?”

  The lady’s words flooded into her mind and piece by piece she started to put the puzzle together. The ship from Wellison has a most precious cargo, the heir to the throne of Sever. At this very moment King Charles lies dying in his bed… King Jarom sees himself seated in the throne room of Imtal Palace. He means to plunge the kingdoms into war. To be sure, he will use the death of Charles and the fears of t
he heir to his own ends…

  She decided right then to confide in Father Jacob. She recounted the meetings with the strange lady. She told him of the first meeting in the palace tower at Imtal and the second meeting in the forest on the night of the heavy rains.

  As she watched, it was clear a flood of awareness swept over Father Jacob. He was silent for a time then he mumbled words she barely understood. “This is the very message Great-Father sent—the message I have puzzled over these long past days.”

  “Father Jacob, are you all right? Is there something I can do for you?”

  “Just let me stand here a moment, child.” Father Jacob paused, took a deep breath then added, “On second thought, let’s sit. Perhaps over on the bed…”

  Father Jacob regarded Adrina with marvel. “I told no one about the voices and the portentous messages that brought me to Imtal Palace on a dark night, what seemed so long ago. I did not even tell the cunning Keeper Martin… Great-Father does sometimes work in mysterious ways. Messages in dreams are not uncommon and the Lore Keepers often use them for long communication.”

  Father Jacob again became quiet and the wrinkles around his eyes grew thick. “You are right, child,” he said at long last, “we cannot wait. May Great-Father speed us on to Alderan…”

  Soon after the baron convinced Father Jacob that they should not leave Fraddylwicke castle until the following morning. It was true that by the time preparations were made and they were ready to leave it was late afternoon, but there still were a few hours of daylight left. What harm would a night in the swamp have brought? Adrina thought, but the baron assured her the swamp was no place to be after dark.

  When morning came the baroness was dead set on having tea after breakfast. Adrina declined. Who drinks tea at daybreak? she thought to herself. She approached the low portcullis that separated thick walls midway along the castle’s southerly bastion. She continued past it to the stables where a stately wagon was being prepared. The Lord and Lady Fraddylwicke chased after her every step of the way from the inner courtyard to the wall, but neither the baroness’ “Your Highness, please, the tea is ready,” or the baron’s “The wagon would have been ready in another hour,” would slow her down.

  She cast a glum stare behind her. Father Jacob hurried along beside the baron, and she heard him again speaking an apology. “It seems we must leave at once on an urgent matter,” he was saying. “Please give the message I left for Captain Brodst to him as soon as he wakes. You have been most gracious hosts. His Majesty will surely hear of this.”

  “Raise the portcullis,” Adrina screamed to the guards inside the gatehouse.

  “The wagon is most splendid,” Jacob said, seemingly to drown out Adrina’s words.

  No doubt, Lord Fraddylwicke had chosen the stately wagon with its four-horse team with clear purpose. Adrina knew this was meant as a symbol both of his wealth and of his generosity, which he hoped would be relayed to King Andrew. She didn’t find it odd that she could so intensely dislike a man who she had only met yesterday evening.

  Behind her, she heard men shouting, she looked back to the outer courtyard to see a small contingent of foot soldiers mustering. She stopped and whirled about to face the baron. “A gaggle of foot soldiers will only slow us down. We need the wagon and the provisions you promised, nothing more. Tell them to return to their duties.”

  “Your Highness, I must object,” Baron Fraddylwicke said. “I must see to your protection. The swamp is no place for a lady such as yourself to be alone.”

  Adrina started to respond, but Father Jacob spoke first. “He is right, Princess Adrina. It would be best to have an escort.”

  “Fine, if they are to come along, have them mount up. They can ride, yes?”

  “I am afraid—” Adrina held her breath. The baron was fond of those three words. “—that the scant few animals that remain are ill-fit for riding. Your Captain Trendmore took every horse in Fraddylwicke. Strangest thing, I told him I needed mounts for the King’s messengers—you see, usually we trade out on a one-for-one basis—but he said he wanted them all and would keep his. Even sent men about the countryside. He left nary one behind. It is only by the grace of Great-Father that my personal team remains.”

  Adrina started to say, “Great-Father had nothing to do with it,” but then realized that it was fortunate the baron had hidden the animals away. Her irritation with the pompous baron decreased. She bit her cheek and smiled.

  “That was a wise decision,” she said, “my father, the King, will surely hear how you have helped me, for I will tell him personally. The foot soldiers stay here, however.”

  Baron Fraddylwicke’s face suddenly seemed to glow and the baroness touched her kerchief to her eye. “As you wish,” the baron said.

  Father Jacob nodded approval and helped Adrina climb into the wagon.

  The four-horse team eagerly responded to Jacob’s guiding hands. At first the gentle countryside that encompassed Fraddylwicke Castle greeted them, but this was a short-enjoyed oasis in the midst of surrounding mires, and after only an hour of riding the roads began to slope gradually downward to be reclaimed by the wetlands.

  Instantly, Adrina and Jacob felt moisture in the air and smelled pungent odors of stagnant waters. Fortunately, the roads leading away from the castle in this section of the lowlands were well reinforced. The main road was built up a full three feet above the waiting waters. Adrina marveled at the feat of ingenuity and determination it had taken to build such an access way.

  A dreary haze hung over the mire, giving it unparalleled uncanniness. This, when added to the sense of foreboding she felt, put her at considerable unease.

  She puzzled over a great many things, especially how Prince Valam fit into all this. To be sure, they must reach Alderan before her brother’s arrival. They also needed to catch up to the column and warn them, but what would they tell them to watch out for? And what of Prince William? If his ship had not arrived in Alderan, why had no messages been sent? Why in the dream was he in such pain? And why had he stared at her so?

  As she tried to think about all this, her head began to throb, the pain becoming so intense that all her thoughts eventually fell away. Ahead in the distance lay disparate crossroads that led to tiny villages whose buildings dotted the landscape. Mounted on top of tiny cross-sections of land that were barely habitable, the villages seemed much like the swamp’s scattered weeping willow trees, waiting to be reclaimed someday by the dank surrounding waters.

  Hoping to rid herself of throbbing headache and troubled thoughts, she turned to Father Jacob. And though he seemed deep in his own concerns, she endeavored to spark a conversation with him.

  “It all looks so lonely, does it not, Father Jacob?” she said, her voice mixing in with the thump-roll, thump-roll of the wagon’s wheels. “I’m curious about Lord Fraddylwicke, such a grand castle in the middle of all this waste. Everything so well maintained, these roads as well. The villages we pass are impoverished. With tithing to the temples there can be little wealth left to tax. Does the Baron tax in blood?”

  Jacob was slow to reply, but it seemed clear as he began that he grasped her intent, which was to rid their minds of troubled thoughts for a time. “I find these lands curious as well. Only the southern portion of the mire remains populated, you know. During the Great Wars, the castle was a major strategic point for King Jarom the First, but now it serves no useful purpose. There are other safeguarded passages to the southlands.

  “The wars lasted generations and it does seem odd that anyone would chose to stay in so desolate a place afterward. Perhaps they stay simply because it is their ancestral home.”

  “Perhaps,” said Adrina.

  “In a way I pity them, and not only because the desolation and isolation they endure seem overbearing. Also because generations of war and life in such a place left behind a bitter and superstitious people. Their ancestors are King Jarom’s Blood Soldiers. Too brutal and uncivilized for the civilized world that emerged after the
Great Wars and too many to exterminate, they are all but forgotten about by both the kingdom that gave them birth and the kingdom that conquered them.”

  “Blood Soldiers, why have I never heard about them?”

  “You won’t find anything I’ve just told you in any book in Imtal, this I assure, though Keeper Martin would verify the history. Yet, it is perhaps best they remain forgotten.”

  Father Jacob whipped the reins held tightly in his hands. Adrina took this as a sign to change the topic of their conversation. “Father Jacob, how long will it take to reach the coast?”

  Jacob thought about it for a short time and then responded, “Great-Father willing and if we pray very hard and drive the horses as much as we dare, we might be able to reach it by midmorning tomorrow.”

  “And Alderan?”

  “Early the day after, if we pray.”

  “Then we will pray,” said Adrina matter-of-factly.

  Weariness swept over Adrina like a storm. Her face turned pale and though she fought to stay awake, sleep came.

  The wagon continued to speed along the trail. Jacob’s thoughts were on the wagon and the trail ahead. It took great care to hold the trail steadily at the increased speed. He was so engrossed in his concentration that he did not notice Adrina’s state. He only heard the horses’ hooves thundering along the trail.

  The sky above grew overcast, the winds began to pick up, and an ill feeling intensified in Father Jacob’s gut. His intuition told him a heavy storm was approaching. He cast silent prayers to Great-Father to protect them from the rains and to allow them to complete their journey unscathed.

  But it was a losing affray that was being conducted against the squall in the good priest’s mind. The clouds overhead turned dark and callous quickly. He felt their presence as an evil spirit invading his privacy.

  The air turned cold. The first droplets of rain fell. He beat at the reins with increasing ferocity matched by the increasing fury of the wind. Sprinkles of rain thrashed against them, then the downpour began.