Ruin Mist Chronicles Bundle

by Robert Stanek

  Lord Serant’s eyes fell to the door that lay behind them; the ante-chamber was beyond. He wondered if they realized the door was there. He nudged Captain Brodst and carefully brought his attention to the door. Both realized what it meant, but they had no way to reach it.

  The primary problem with that exit was the considerable number of foes they would have to engage to get to it; nevertheless, there were fewer men in the way of their escape in that direction, no matter how the two thought about it. The more Lord Serant pondered the possibility, the less he favored it. It was not worth the risk; there had to be another way.

  The sentries, though outnumbered and overwhelmed, were holding their own. Of twenty, only ten remained. They watched with horror as the enemy continued to come at them in waves. Weapons danced in their hands with the sweat of their lives pouring into their every move. If they failed a block or parry, they were dead, and this they knew and understood very well.

  “Damn it, Pyetr!” cursed Lord Serant aloud again. His heart raced with anxiety; his mind spun with possibilities, working through various plans of escape while his sword arm agitatedly held his weapon at his side. Anger and frustration suffused his face. He was forced to stand and watch and wait.

  Similar thoughts were crossing Captain Brodst’s mind. He too looked for any possible way to escape, and if luck befell him he would find a way past the kings’ soldiers. For the first time, his attention moved to the keepers who still stood confused. The priests of the Father, who were not as quick to react as Father Joshua had been, stood directly adjacent to them.

  Although he realized that they would be the next logical target for the foe, he held no hopes of assisting them. He must keep his thoughts clear. He did not need the extra baggage. The priests could hold their own for a time; the Father would not easily relinquish their positions on this plane. The keepers, however, were as useless as the High Council had been. He saw a similar fate for them.

  Strength of will returned to Midori as she shook off the last of the effects of the dark priests’ powers over her. She could not believe she had fallen for their mind tricks. She could not believe what she saw. She clutched her ceremonial dagger firmly in her hand. Her eyes fixed clearly, precisely on the front of the chamber.

  Thoughts now raged within her. She sought out Father Joshua, but he was nowhere to be found. She knew none of the other priests of the Father by name. She did not, however, let that distract her from her search among them for one that would suit her needs.

  Her eyes went wide with excitement and anticipation. “Catrin,” she reached out in thought. The Mother had truly smiled upon them. She saw life within Catrin; Catrin was alive.

  A gasp of dismay came from Lord Serant’s lips as he watched the last of the sentries fall. It became obvious to him who the leader of the attackers was as he watched the last few rounds of melee. He fixed a cold, icy stare upon the leader and waited for the moment when the attack would come. “Pyetr!” he screamed out in his mind, “Damn it, man, hurry!”

  He sighed in relief as his eyes fell upon a small contingent that took a position between him and the intruders. Lord Fantyu had taken up a position there with his men. Nine stood defiantly waiting. Lord Fantyu offered him a reassuring nod; the attackers would have to come through him first.

  An idea came to Lord Serant; he turned and glared at Chancellor Volnej. His hand swiftly, subconsciously brought his blade to the chancellor’s throat. “This is all your doing! Is it not? You traitorous dog!” he yelled as he spit in the chancellor’s face. “You are not worth killing! I should feed you to a pack of wolves and let the vultures pick at your carcass after they are finished!”

  Chancellor Volnej swallowed harshly, his face registering confusion. He didn’t understand what Lord Serant was saying—a traitor. He was no traitor. “What are you saying? Are you mad?”

  Chancellor Van’te was also confused. “Lord Serant, you must be mistaken. I have known the chancellor for a number of years; there is no way he is a traitor. Our enemy lies out there, not here!”

  Lord Serant was abashed and confused. “Chancellor Volnej is a traitor; I can prove it!” he stated, his voice quavering uncertainly.

  “Lord Serant, please! I beg you, do not act foolishly. Think about what you are saying,” begged Chancellor Van’te.

  Chancellor Volnej said nothing further in his defense. The tip of Serant’s blade at his throat that did not move was more than enough to hold his tongue. He did not want to infuriate the obviously stressed lord with even the slightest provocation.

  Chapter Two

  Prince Valam Alder departed Leklorall, capital city of East Reach, with few regrets. In his mind, he tried to understand all that happened since he went with Queen Mother to Shalan’s tower. The tower that symbolized the heart and soul of the people of East Reach. The tower that only Queen Mother could enter—except that he had entered the tower and now the tower was no more.

  He thought about the child of east and west, the bearer of light and remembrance. The one who was also the child of past and present, the bearer of darkness. The one who also hid the angel of life and the key. Was this his child or another?

  The thought of having a child suddenly hit him. It was strange to think about. He, the lord and prince of the south, was to be a father. Would he be ready when the time came? Would he know what to do? Would the queen even let him see the child? Was she even with child? Was this so certain?

  Soshi had told him once that she was with child but later said she had been mistaken. Thoughts of Soshi, his first true love, brought thoughts of the old blind woman who said she’d lost her sight for the greater good. “The old ways are all but forgotten now,” the old woman had told him. “The old gods were not gods at all, merely creatures of power, great power.” When she blinded him with the white powder, she said that she gave him a gift. It was Soshi though who took the blindness from him so that he might see truth.

  He wished he could see truth now and he longed for Soshi’s soothing ways though he knew he should not. Still, first love was an enduring love and his desire did not fade as the morning did. Later he could only picture Queen Mother’s face in his mind’s eye.

  Seth strode up alongside Valam. “There, Valam, that is where the Eastern Plains begin,” he said pointing to the line where the trees and the gentle sloping hills were replaced by the tall grasses and flatness of the plains. The plains stretched beyond the horizon into the distance. Its stark beauty was in its vastness and simplicity.

  Valam’s response was slow as he returned from his reverie. “It seems so endless.”

  “At times, I think it is.”

  “Yes, it has a beauty unique to itself,” whispered Tsandra to Seth and Valam; she had walked up quietly behind them to look out over the vantage point. “Seth,” she began, directing the thought only into his mind, “Please leave us for a moment.” Seth didn’t refuse her request; he smiled and returned to their small encampment.

  “Valam, I haven’t until now had an opportunity to properly beg your forgiveness. I do so now. Please forgive my shortsightedness. I acted without thought. I know it is something that is not easily forgotten, and even less easy to forgive, but I say this from within my very center. I am truly sorry.”

  Valam started to turn around to face her, but she stopped him. “No, please don’t. I could not finish if you did.”

  “But I do not understand. You have done nothing to offend me.”

  “Shh, listen. I, most of all, should have known that you would do nothing to harm our queen intentionally. I betrayed your friendship, but what I can never forgive myself for was that I also acted out of jealousy. I—”

  “What are you—jealous?”

  “I know it is wrong, but I am in love with you.”

  “Love? What? Wait—stop a minute—say that again.”

  “I am sorry. I have said too much already. Come, we should go.”

  Brushing the tears from her eyes, Tsandra retreated from the hilltop, leavin
g Valam completely baffled. He watched her go; he wanted to scream at her but did not. He remained alone on top of the hill and tried to rethink his actions.

  He watched as the others saddled their horses in preparation to rejoin the trail, then walked down the hill to join them. In minutes they were back in the saddle trotting toward the plains, leaving behind no signs that they had ever stopped here. They traversed the short distance to the grasslands quickly. It was almost instantaneous, as Valam crossed into the tall grasses, that he began to feel a peculiar sense grow within him.

  His eyes began to search the plains rapidly back and forth. He had sensed this feeling once before though he could not place it. His eyes followed down the line to Seth, Cagan, Evgej, Liyan, and finally Tsandra. Their eyes answered his unspoken question; they could also feel it.

  With the passing of two days on the plain, the sensations only increased. The air began to grow colder and stronger, reaching sharply through their heavy riding clothes. Seth called a halt late in the afternoon. He held his hand up high, until the last of the group had formed and stopped.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Valam, wondering why they had stopped so soon. Seth pointed to a spot on the plains where the wind blew up dust in patches. A whisper of thought entered their minds. Valam had heard the sounds shallow within his mind before. He strained to concentrate only on listening. He could tell the sounds were words, but they were too weak to understand.

  “I am Brother Seth, first of the order of the Red!” said Seth, reaching out with his mind. Valam perceived the thrust of Seth’s energies like an explosion within his mind. He clenched his teeth tightly and immediately covered his ears. Evgej’s reactions also brought his hands speedily to his ears. Although the action did nothing to curb the intensity of the burst of sound in their minds, it did appease their senses.

  “Come! It is Brother Teren!” exclaimed Seth as he firmly swatted his steed with his tethers. The two groups of riders raced towards one another. It was not until the other group was in clear view that Valam realized that it was composed mainly of men. By the size and outfitting of the group, he estimated that it must be a scouting party, which Valam hoped to mean that the camp was close at hand.

  “Supplies at last!” shouted Mikhal as he approached. He dropped to his feet quickly and knelt, with his head bowed in reverence. He did not allow the icy snow slapping his face to deter his moment of silence. “My prince, you live!” he shouted with a joyful voice, as he stood with his head still bowed.

  Words fluttered to Valam’s tongue; he knew the man, but couldn’t remember his name or title. He tried to think carefully, although quickly, searching for a name to match the face, but he was puzzled and Chancellor Van’te wasn’t there to whisper in his ear. What was the man referring to? Of course, he was alive. Valam tried to picture a name for the face he saw, “Mikhal,” flashed into his thoughts.

  “Prince Valam, we thought you dead. We thought the storm took you. Oh, thanks be to the Father!” shouted Captain Mikhal. Images spun through the captain’s mind. His thoughts carried him back and swept him away.

  “A storm is going to take us if we don’t hurry!” whispered Liyan into Seth’s mind.

  Seth turned to face Liyan. “Yes, you are right. I sense heavy snows. An odd season, is it not?”

  “More than that, I suspect,” directed Liyan into Seth’s mind alone.

  “I am Captain Mikhal; this is Lieutenant Danyel’,” said the captain as he watched Valam search for words.

  “Captain Mikhal, yes, ‘Lieutenant Danyel,’ curious,” said Prince Valam. “It is good to find you.”

  They rapidly went through the remainder of the introductions. As Brother Teren took the lead, the winds suddenly changed directions, bringing in a gale from the northeast. The new wind had an instant chilling effect as it touched bare skin. Evgej and Valam wrapped their cloaks tightly around them.

  Evgej didn’t much care for the cold; as it touched his face and hands, he cursed it. He would much rather be in the warmth of his southerly homeland. Quashan’ was rarely visited by harsh cold, and even more rarely with snow. As the group turned in a northerly direction, his teeth began to chatter.

  Snow descended from the sky in large flurries. Evgej was growing agitated in the saddle. He had to keep moving around to gain warmth. Evgej could see from Valam’s staunch features that he wasn’t reacting to the cold as much.

  “Do you think he will come before the snows fade?” whispered Seth into Liyan’s thoughts.

  “I believe we must wait to see, but if he is a wise man, he will wait.”

  “Yes, as would I.”

  “These snows are out of place and time. They will soon trap us indoors; let us hope these men have built adequate shelters.”

  “We have nothing to fear; Keeper Martin and Father Jacob are smart men.”

  “The weather along the coast should be considerably milder than here,” commented Liyan, as he squinted in the face of the heavy snowfall; a mild, tingling sensation against his face spoke of the cold without; otherwise, he did not feel it though he did think it a dark tiding.

  Valam drifted back in thought. Images wandered through his mind as life-size pictures against the white backdrop of the snow. He saw the Queen-Mother in those images, and he whispered out the name she had told him only he could call her. He was careful to use the mind controls Seth had taught him to mask his open thoughts, so his words did not drift into the others’ consciousness by mistake.

  Brother Teren raised a gloved hand high. Although the gesture was scarcely visible, it was seen by the rider behind him and was passed on to those behind him. Thus, the signal to halt was passed to the rear. With a dour countenance, Teren dismounted and led his mount back to Seth and Liyan. The walk was more a formality than a necessity, for he could have directed his thoughts to Seth or Liyan instead, which would have been more forceful than his spoken words.

  Seth’s response was just as exaggerated; he wished to continue, no matter the odds. A delay in the open plains could prove fatal; they could be snowed in indefinitely. They would continue on, even if they must travel into the night.

  “Not much like home anymore, is it, Seventh?” called out Captain Mikhal to the man who rode close at his side. Danyel’ waved his head negatively in response although snow wasn’t that unusual a sight for him. He had spent many long winters in the northern sectors of the kingdom. It wasn’t that he liked it or disliked it—mostly, he was indifferent to it.

  Although Teren could no longer see his way, he could feel it. He had visited this prairie many times, as had the snows. His native sense of direction was extraordinarily strong, an important attribute of any good scout, He knew where the camp of men lay along the coast, and the Father willing, he would lead everyone to it.

  A startled emotion flowed to Tsandra, who had been riding solemnly with those of her order. She steered her horse mid-group and charged without thought, issuing rapid summons for those of the Brown to follow her and prepare.

  Her thoughts reached Seth and Liyan in disarray, and caused the remainder of the group to come to a sudden halt. Seth was confused, as was Liyan; they didn’t understand what Tsandra had perceived. Seth sent questions to her mind, but her thoughts were scattered and unreachable.

  Valam raced his mount toward Seth; his voice wavered as he shouted his questions. Tsandra’s words had been sent frantically. They had been in the words of Seth’s people, but he had only caught a few words. As Valam approached, it became obvious to him that Seth was also confused, yet he asked again anyway, “What is it? What did she see?”

  Seth’s response was that he did not know either, but she had told them to wait until she returned. So they would wait until she returned.

  “Can you ask her again?” queried Valam.

  “I have tried but her thoughts are unreachable.”

  “Unreachable?”

  “She is confused.”

  “Confused?” asked Valam, adding when Seth didn’t respond to the
thought that lay heavily on his mind, “Is this what you call mild snows?”

  “This is an odd storm. I assure you the coast is clear and tranquil compared to this. The sea breezes are much more forgiving than those of the plains.”

  Brother Teren, also of the Brown, charged after Tsandra, screaming out, “No! Don’t!” to her mind, but her thoughts were closed. He spurred his mount several times, chiding it to go faster. “What are you doing? No, don’t! Leave him alone!”

  Tsandra released her right leg from the stirrups, carefully securing her left. She leaned outward and downward with her arms, ready to snatch up the tiny scurrying form as it raced away. She grabbed the figure, with its legs still flailing the air as she picked it up, and tucked it close beside her, sending her followers out in all directions in search of any others.

  The child muttered something Tsandra didn’t understand, biting her hand immediately afterwards, causing her to release her grip. Tsandra jumped from her mount and chased the child. Her feet slipped as they hit the icy ground. As she grabbed the tiny figure again, she fell face first.

  “Brother Tsandra, I implore you. He means no harm. He is my shadow,” forced Teren into Tsandra’s mind.

  “What do you mean shadow? Why is he following us?”

  “He is not following you. He is following me.”

  “Why?” demanded Tsandra.

  “He always does. Let him go, and I’ll explain.”

  As Tsandra released the boy, he scurried away, his short legs weaving a blur, very quickly carrying him to a distance where he felt safe. Teren pushed thoughts and images into Tsandra’s mind as they hurried back to the group. Tsandra recalled her warriors and movement slowly restarted; the dark storm attained full fury during the delay and was not dealing with them kindly.

  “Explain?” demanded Tsandra into Teren’s mind, letting him know that it was a subtle order, which she as the first could make, and that it demanded a quick, precise response.