Ruin Mist Chronicles Bundle

by Robert Stanek

  Now they lunched in a small clearing just off the road, stopping to wait out a hard downpour and using the time to rest weary animals and to bring nourishment to their own tired souls. Long into the afternoon they waited for the storm to pass or let up from its long torment, but it did not. So here they were forced to make their camp for the night. Neither spark from skilled hands nor flint rock brought fire to the wet wood they gathered, and still fearing their use of magic, this night passed by cold and wet, without the benefits of a fire.

  Scattered shouts in the night roused the sentry, and soon everyone was awake or mostly awake, returning to sleep only when weapons were close at hand and the shadows in the woods had long since passed. Amir was last on watch and first to greet the early rays of a dawning day, a day that he sensed would be clear and cloudless. He was also the first to discover that Adrina was missing.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Clouds moving across the night sky brought shadows, dark and odd to the land. Calyin and Midori followed Lord Serant and Geoffrey. Captain Brodst kept to the rear. They used the darkness as their blanket, pulling it with them, carrying it along beside and around them, pausing momentarily when it slipped back from on top of them, and moving again when it returned. Lord Serant moved his feet with great determination and much perseverance. He wondered at the strength of those with him; he had heard no complaints since they had made their escape from Imtal even when his own body felt like a weight pulling him into the ground.

  On the backside of a low, sloping hill, amidst a small stand of tightly packed oak, they stopped for what remained of the night. They could go no farther. It was here that Calyin finally broke into tears, great heavy sobs that were muffled within her lord husband’s strong embrace. “Oh Edwar,” she whispered to him. “So many lost and for what?”

  Lord Edwar Serant stood firm. He moved Midori and the others back with his eyes as he put Calyin at arm’s length. “If there are any who must hold strong, it is us,” he told her. “We must hold strong and remain true to each other and Great Kingdom. There will be a time for retribution.”

  Calyin sucked at the air and forced her mind to calm. She was an Alder and the strength of her family ran in her veins. For a fleeting moment her eyes turned accusingly to her sister. The unspoken words that passed between the two were clear to each. Calyin at first blamed the other and then forgave. Midori, who had once considered herself an Alder but was no more, accepted her share of blame but patently refused forgiveness. If there was to be forgiveness, it would come from the Mother.

  In two-hour shifts, they switched the watch; though tired and weary of body and mind, none slept soundly, and morning found them in much the same state they had been the night before—drained. Travel by day was a poor choice but a necessity. They were still in the kingdom and to their knowledge only Imtal had fallen, so they pressed on cautiously.

  The bright warmth of the sun brought no cheer. In the distance in the east, storm clouds loomed, as if they were a sign, and towards the east they continued. For a time that morning, they followed a shallow stream that afforded them water cool and soothing until mid-day, for which they were very thankful for they had no water skins with them. The water sustained their empty bellies, yet it did not satisfy the rumblings of hunger within.

  Lord Serant promised that Kauj lay just ahead, and if they maintained a good pace, taking adequate breaks; they would reach it late in the evening. The others well knew where the city of Kauj lay, but with Serant’s words the promise became real to them, and they strove for it. They stayed well away from the road, following the gullies and ditches in and around the hill country they walked through.

  Midori perceived a hint of the Mother with her this day, for which she was very thankful. She had been so empty without another presence in her consciousness. Late in the afternoon, she dared to touch the will of the land with hers, and was pleased when it flowed back to her. The domain of the Mother was hers again, and she was ecstatic. Guidance flowed to her mind as if she had regained her sight although she still perceived an absence around her.

  As they stopped just before dusk to insure that they were not off course, a call came to her crisply from the wood a short distance away. It bade her to hurry to its confines until the darkness approached. Midori quickly led her companions to the shadows of the wood and they followed her unquestioningly.

  They had no more than reached the trees and found cover when they heard the clatter of hooves. They did not move again until long after the silence returned. From then on, they moved even farther away from the road. Movement this night became difficult as the stars of the previous night were completely blocked by clouded skies. Later, the road was very difficult to find in the darkness.

  A distant sound of music coming from the north reached their ears. Puzzled, they continued swiftly, pausing only briefly. Those that wore hooded cloaks, pulled them close around themselves, and those that didn’t raised their collars high. The sight of buildings in the distance brought relief to their heavy hearts.

  Unfortunately, Kauj only had a single inn. Tiny as it was, they still hoped to take a brief respite before they continued on their way. With luck, they would not have to remain the entire night, and they would hopefully be able to purchase horses. Their minds were consumed with thoughts of food and warmth.

  Geoffrey went alone into Kauj while the others waited at a safe distance. He visited the inn first; then he sought out the stables. The inn was very quiet. He saw only two customers, solemnly sipping their draught, and the innkeeper. He stepped just into the doorway but did not inquire about rooms. He went back to the street.

  He knew of two stables in Kauj, or at least there used to be two stables. He walked to the nearest one, which appeared to be in business although it was secured for the night, as he had thought it would be at this hour. Upon cursory inspection, he counted several horses in the corral to the rear, but they appeared to be mostly nags. He could not see within the stable stalls, but any horse was better than walking, so he was not completely discouraged.

  Afterward he rejoined the others and led the way to the inn. Once inside, they were quick to inquire about rooms. The innkeeper had three empty but one was already promised. They would have to share the two, which suited them; they would have taken only one. They also ordered food to be brought to their rooms, but the innkeeper could only promise them gruel and hard bread at this hour. They did not refuse this either.

  They were quick to retire to their rooms but not before Lord Serant and Captain Brodst eyed the two who sat in the far corner drinking. Something about them caught their interest. Cautiously, the captain queried about the two, pretending to have an interest in peddling his wares to them. The innkeeper told him that he hadn’t seen the two before and that they were not very friendly, so he recommended staying clear of them. Captain Brodst smiled and said thanks and then went upstairs.

  The gruel, which they would normally have considered tasteless, was very welcome and satisfying. After eating their fill and washing up, they slept, and it was morning before any of them awoke. Calyin was the first to awaken, and startled by how high the sun was, woke the others.

  All took turns cursing themselves for their error, but it could not be denied that the sleep had done them good. As long as they were already here past morning, they would eat and gather provisions for the journey ahead. Brodst was the one chosen to venture downstairs, which he did.

  The inn was fairly busy this morning, mostly with travelers stopping only for a quick meal as they passed through, or so it appeared. The captain did not delay in making arrangements for supplies and horses and soon returned to where the others waited, gathered all in one room. Captain Brodst admitted that he did not like the feel of the inn this morning; he perceived something amiss though he knew not what.

  The rattle of trays startled them as several were placed on the hall floor. Directly afterwards came a knock on the door, a soft rapping.

  Captain Brodst answered the door, pul
ling it open only partially. He recognized the servant as the one from last night, and sighed, accepting the food graciously. Sometime later, the servant returned to retrieve the trays and dishes. He also informed the captain that the foodstuffs he had wanted were ready, and that he had sent a message to the stable master. Captain Brodst thanked the boy and gave him a small coin as a token of thanks.

  “What do we do now?” asked Calyin of Serant. “Do you still think it is safe to journey to Solntse this day?”

  “If that is still our course, I say yes.”

  “If?” asked Geoffrey. “I thought we were set.”

  “I am not so sure now. I think—I’m not sure what I think, but I sense something.”

  “Yes, the Mother speaks to me this morning from afar; this does not bode well. I also think a change of course would be better.”

  “I would still rather be in Imtal; at least there I would know the specters.”

  “A change of words, I believe, is in order. It is not good to mention things of darkness, lest they come.”

  “I am sorry, Sister. I regress,” the captain spoke the words with a grin on his face, as he stared at Midori, who stared back at him with an equally knowing smile.

  “If we change our course, what of the warning? Have you pondered the meaning of the things they said to us?” spoke Calyin, her eyes mostly falling on Midori, who understood best of all, she thought.

  “The words were not meant to confuse us, as was already said, but merely to make us think, to make us give deep consideration to our path, and yes to give us a direction to begin and end in. The in-between, I think, is mostly up to us.”

  “Let’s delay no further. I want to put a great distance between us and Kauj.”

  “Lord Serant is right; we should be off.”

  Geoffrey went to collect and pay for the horses, which he purchased without trouble, while Captain Brodst saw to their provisions and Serant retrieved some water skins and other miscellaneous items from a nearby merchant. Midori and Calyin remained at the inn, passing the time by talking as only two sisters do. Thoughts of Adrina and Andrew carried over into their conversation; they missed them both.

  Fortunately, the nags they rode upon proved to have good stamina; and by late afternoon, the shadows they perceived in Kauj seemed to be far behind them. The sense of nature surrounding them put Midori at ease. As they rode, she turned her thoughts inward for a time of reflection. She was the first of the Mother, yet she observed certain reservations she knew others before her had not. Her thoughts flowed to a figure. The face of an old man came before her and she wondered how he fared. He had not returned as he said he would, and she needed his support, his guidance.

  She thought about time and wondered where she would be during the vernal equinox, when the time of her calling came. She did not know whom she would choose, but surely, as the first, she must choose. She thought about the other priestesses at sanctuary, and how they fared without her guidance. They knew that the first, second and third were gone, and perhaps, she thought, they may be lost. As she dwelled on this, she knew this to be false. Her mouth fell agape and now she understood the emptiness. They had crossed the rights and transcended without her. “Why, Mother?” cried Midori in her thoughts. “Why did you sanction this?”

  “Midori?” called Brodst. “Are you all right? You look so pale.”

  “Yes—yes, I am fine,” softly responded Midori, sadness evident in her voice. “Fine, fine, fine,” laughed Midori, sarcastically. She bit her lip and thus stopped further words from issuing from her mouth. She pulled her hood tight about her face and withdrew into its recesses and cried heavy mournful sobs.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The words of the mountaineers were odd to Valam’s ears; somehow, they were in the same tongue as Seth yet different. He was glad they were quick to adapt to his own language, which greatly enhanced their ability to communicate. He decided that they were a strong bunch, and the power was not only in their hands and minds, but also in their hearts. They were free spirits. He also found that they were quick to sudden anger, and quick to turn from it and laugh. They played with emotions sending it as the most prevalent item in all their thoughts, using it to their own advantage.

  Their skin and eyes were a deep, burnt tan in contrast to Seth’s paler skin. The plains had been harsh on them, and these were the first of Seth’s kind. Valam wondered whether the signs of wear and tear on their features were the result of great age or simply evidence of the harshness of their lives on the plains. Ekharn was their leader although they claimed to have no leader. They counted all of their kind as equals.

  A small group gathered in the center of the camp, preparing to depart. This day they would journey back to the mountains with Teren as their guide. With hesitation, Father Jacob gave his blessing for Prince Valam to accompany the party as Ekharn wished and with a very heavy heart he watched the band leave the confines of the camp. He hoped Valam would never leave his sight again, and he was torn with lament as if he was losing what he had only recently found.

  Valam smiled courteously in response to Yulorien’s words floating through his mind, but momentarily he cast his attentions back to Jacob, whose countenance spoke many things. It wasn’t until much, much later, as they plodded through the rocky coastline north, that he realized what was said to him. He repeated the words in his thoughts, “No, my friend, the Queen-Mother holds no dominion over the mountain folk, although we do count her blessings.”

  The journey along the coast to Ekharn’s camp took only one full day. This time of year often found them encamped on steep bluffs jutting out into the sea, the mountains rising high behind them, and in front of them the plains. As they mounted the bluff, Valam caught sight of a white snowcap on the mountains as far as he could see. The places he was led into seemed at first gloomy and foreboding, but soon they were streaming with light and cheer.

  Passageways that began with great canyons became narrower and shallower, tunnels that were made by skilled hands with chisel and hammer. They wove together a series of interconnecting rooms, halls, dwellings and much more that were all natural and would have been otherwise inaccessible. Valam felt empty without Evgej, Seth, and the others who had been his constant companions for a very long time. They had been forbidden to accompany the mountaineers although exception had been made in the case of Mikhal and Danyel’ and the two were in the party today.

  The three and Teren now sat in an enormous hollow awaiting Ekharn’s return. Yulorien sat with them although he did not speak. Valam regarded the rock-hewn benches they were seated upon, set in a semi-circle around the chamber. In the center of the room an earthen hearth spewed warmth, its smoke drifting into an unseen chimney.

  A lengthy hour later, Ekharn returned, and as he did Yulorien stood and bowed his head. As a polite gesture, Valam did the same and the others except Teren, who did not move, followed his lead. Behind Ekharn walked a woman in a white flowing gown. Once she was seated, Yulorien raised his head, and after momentarily regarding her, he took his place.

  “You need not pay homage to me,” whispered a voice, powerful, yet feminine, casting with it an expression of warmth and also a feeling of welcome. “I have no persuasion over you or any of your kind, though I am the Mother of my people.”

  “The Queen-Mother,” flashed through Valam’s thoughts before he considered that his mind was open.

  “I am no queen, I have no kingdom nor any domain, unless you count the lands you place your feet upon now, but they are not mine to offer, even to myself.”

  “I am sorry,” said Valam. “I did not mean to—”

  “There is no need for apology; no offense was taken or given. I brought you here so I could speak openly with you without fear of reprisal. There are those who would not look favorably upon my presence, and there are those who do not know that I exist. I wish it to be kept so at least for now. Do you know that the Mother of the Eastern Reaches attempted to send your people away before your arrival?”


  Valam’s eyes and thoughts gave evidence of the direction he thought the conversation flowed. Teren jumped to his feet almost immediately. “I am no traitor to my people, Prince Valam, of this I assure you.”

  “Please, Brother Teren, seat yourself. He will see the truth of it; give him time. You are no traitor.” Her words flowed, mixed with truth and understanding to all present. A suppressed message of “wait, and you will see,” was also sent with it simultaneously. “I want you to know the facts; this is why I have brought you here. You are being played like an errant pawn. The fool is one step away from obtaining the swordmasterless king.”

  “King?”

  “Do you not think that I know? I see all, but little do I question until it is time. Once there were two queens and two kings in the lands beyond the seas, the lands that now lie in desolation, so the balance was held in check, but no more. We are here, and yours are there. Valam, a prince, an heir, a king, a pauper.”

  “Do you mock me?”

  “No, I praise you. Do you not understand? Regard what I have said, and in time you will come to know.”

  “I am at a loss,” said Valam.

  “You are at no loss and understand me well. The words I have spoken are not beyond your minds, but beyond your ears. You hear but do not listen.”

  Valam returned to the first words spoken to him and asked, “Why would the Queen-Mother send away those she needs.”

  “You know the answer. She told you herself. Think!”

  A flood of remembrance came upon Valam and carried him away. The world about him became gray and shadowy, and if Teren had not protected his head from the stone, he would have slammed against it when he collapsed forward. He saw the paths in his thoughts, a vision that played out two-fold for him, overwhelming him and sending his body into shock as the vision came to the end, as he saw his life come to an end. Now he understood Tsandra’s words, but it was too late; the moment had passed.