Ruin Mist Chronicles Bundle

by Robert Stanek

  “I wish I knew for sure,” quietly whispered Valam. “I always pictured Captain Evgej and Seth at my side, no offense—”

  “The future has many turnings. Perhaps it will be so. Perhaps we play a part in the paths of your future, or maybe we are your turning points in the path.”

  “That is a curious statement, Brother Teren,” said Danyel’.

  Two days passed and still Valam struggled with the choices in his mind. He knew not which direction to take. Thoughts of home appealed to him even though he knew the dangers that awaited him if he returned. This day weighed heavily on him. Teren returned to the plains, which were now completely buried beneath a very thick blanket of snow. Even the coastal areas received a fair amount.

  The sky overhead promised that today would be clear and cloudless, and it was with a heavy heart that Valam returned to the affairs of the camp. The cold spell had left its mark on the camp, and supplies of wood for their fires were now depleted once again. They also had to face the fact that many months of cold might lay ahead, and the tents would not make this hardship any easier. They needed to find adequate shelter.

  The small villages of the plains now lay deep in snow also, but the heart of the plain was not where they wished to go. The cold was just tolerable here; there it would be more than unbearable. They needed to find a better solution and soon. The cove where their ships were moored was suggested by Father Jacob, and Liyan also seemed to think this would be a good choice as it was partially sheltered from the winds and close enough that the move would not be excessively taxing.

  The move began slowly and for a brief period it kept everyone occupied. Teren returned during the interim and took Danyel’ and Mikhal away with him. When the change of camps was completed, Valam came to the hard decision to use their remaining wagons as the source for their fires. He vowed even if they had to start burning the longboats they would always have a fire in each hearth through the cold nights.

  Valam stood still, oblivious to the light drizzle falling around him. His thoughts were heavy and his mood decidedly stern. He muddled over words he must speak when he returned to where the others waited. Jacob called a second meeting to solve their current problems and to find insight on the direction they were moving. Inside, all sat waiting; even the seven lieutenants were present. Seth ventured out into the elements, finding Valam gazing fixedly at some distant point that was probably only known to Valam. Seth knew and understood Valam’s situation. He had discussed this at length with Liyan over the past several days, and he knew Valam actually didn’t have a choice to make but rather to accept.

  Valam hadn’t even turned to acknowledge the presence beside him although he had noticed. His voice began softly, gaining volume only as it reached the final syllable. “—I must return to Leklorall and from there, perhaps home—”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “I wanted to tell you before I told the others.”

  “You need not explain. I understand. I will miss you heartily.”

  The two stood silent for a long time before they joined the others in the meeting. Father Jacob was pleased to see the two enter together. As Jacob took his place at the table, Valam looked to each face around the room, recalling the names of each as he did so. Brother Liyan had donned the gray of his office; Tsandra was arrayed in brown; even Seth, Valam noted for the first time, wore the red of his order; and Teren wore black.

  Cagan was not in attendance, but Valam had not expected to see him here, with ships so close by. Stretched out in a line to the right of Captain Mikhal sat the seven lieutenants. Valam looked puzzled for a moment upon seeing two empty chairs in the far corner before he recalled who was not present.

  He crossed to the head position without further delay. His mind stumbled and stuttered, as did his tongue, as he began to speak. “Father Jacob, Brother Liyan, Brother Seth—as all of you know, I have been quite pensive as of late. It is very difficult to hide the discontent of your heart. Oftentimes the facts speak for themselves, and as I have considered the many things that are ahead for all of us here, I have stumbled over a host of obstacles, which were mostly phantoms of my own creation. I soon realized I really only had one choice to make, and this did not come without the help of a very close friend—and just a few, short moments ago—”

  “Storm approaching!” interrupted the page as he burst into the tent.

  “Will we never get this meeting completed?” asked Jacob, raising his eyes, and speaking upward.

  “Storm?”

  “Yes, sir, a storm—”

  “Shoo, shoo, go back to where you came from. Go on, Prince Valam, please finish. Wait, wait, wait, one minute there—pass the word to raise stocks high in case the snows are severe and to prepare for the cold—”

  “Yes, sir—but begging your pardon, of course, you don’t understand.”

  “And just what don’t I understand?” asked Jacob with more vehemence than he intended.

  “Nothing, Father. May I return to my duties?”

  “Yes, go!”

  The page departed with an appearance of defeat on his face. Father Jacob shook his head and then reclaimed his seat. Valam hesitantly began again although he paused long to recall where he had left off. Now the import of what he had been carefully building up to seemed trivial, so he just came out and said what he intended to do.

  “I must return to Leklorall, for only there, I believe, will I find the answers I seek. From there, I may perhaps find that I need to return to Great Kingdom.”

  Surprised gasps issued from many, quickly followed by a loud murmuring. A few, like Father Jacob, had been expecting it, and the anxiety of waiting to actually hear it was finally released. Valam was most surprised by Teren’s response, which was disbelief. He had received a similar response from Mikhal, which he counted as disappointment.

  “I will select a small group to accompany me, but I will only take those who willingly choose to return with me.”

  “I do not think that will be a problem, your highness,” said Redcliff. Danyel’ immediately responded with a wide grimace and a sharp glare, forcing silence upon those around him. Valam started to speak again but stopped abruptly as Evgej entered.

  “Didn’t the page reach you?”

  “Yes, he did, and as a matter of fact, he just left. Don’t worry, captain, we are well prepared for the snow. We have already made provisions.”

  “Snow? No, Prince Valam, the storm comes from the sea. Cagan is extremely worried.”

  “This cove should harbor us from the worst. We will be safe.”

  “I am not so sure. Perhaps you had better accompany me.”

  Father Jacob stood with a pained look stretched across his features and approached. He spoke in low whispers to the two, carrying them off a short distance to the corner. When he finished, he excused himself from the meeting and accompanied Evgej outside, leaving Valam behind, very confused.

  As Valam walked to the front of the table and stared into the eyes of those about him, worry and fear touched him. Jacob’s words played in his mind, “You must decide now,” he had said, “you must decide now or it will be too late.” Jacob already knew what the winds carried toward them.

  “I think the time has come, the time when I must leave. I must return to Leklorall before the sun sets this day. There are powerful forces at work here both for and against us. Brother Teren, Brother Tsandra, I would have you accompany me if you would.”

  Valam ignored the pointed remarks that jumped into his thoughts mid-stream and continued. “Brother Seth and Brother Liyan, I regret that I think your place is here for now. Lieutenant Eran, you think I don’t remember your name, but I do. Willam the Black, Pavil the Bearded, S’tryil, Son of Lord S’tryil of High Province, Ylsa, sister to Eran, and Tae, Master of Redcliff, your places are here, save you, S’tryil.”

  Valam regarded S’tryil for a moment. “I shall need a new captain, and you shall be the one. Captain Mikhal and Lieutenant Danyel’ shall accompany me. Father Jacob an
d Evgej shall remain.”

  S’tryil waited until it appeared that Valam was finished speaking before he responded. “I cannot accept the honor bestowed upon me. I request that you pass the rank of captain to Ylsa. She has already earned it.”

  “Lieutenant Ylsa’s time will be soon; your time is now, Captain S’tryil. Take command of your men and follow Father Jacob’s instructions.”

  Valam continued to ignore Teren and Tsandra’s remarks, which hit him full, even as he walked away. The wind outside, a strong breeze, immediately assaulted his senses, carrying with it sand and debris from around the camp. Valam had to shield his eyes with his arm to see clearly. He was amazed at the speed with which the storm raged towards them.

  “Prince Valam, wait!” came the plea into his thoughts, even as he fought to seal them.

  “I do not have time to waste! Tell the others to meet the long boat crew and go out to the flagship. She is Cagan’s favorite, or so I have heard.”

  “They spoke nothing of Tsandra. Why is she—”

  “Perhaps I have my own reasons. Now please hurry!” shouted Valam.

  “Valam wait!”

  The voice aloud caught Valam by surprise for an instant until he recognized it. “Yes, Captain Mikhal, take the lieutenant’s detachment to the flag ship. Cagan is already there.”

  “But they are not—”

  “Yes, I know,” replied Valam as he walked away.

  “Yes,” returned Valam in thought as yet another voice disturbed him. Tsandra was quick to pick the thought from his center. “How many?” she asked. “The choice is yours,” he replied.

  Valam was interrupted one more time on the way to his tent, but this intrusion did not bother him. He and Seth had been through a lot together and to part now when they had come so far seemed ironic. But sometimes, thought Valam, “Irony was truth.” And so when all preparations were made, he watched Cagan’s steady hand lead the ship into the tack, turning back only after great hesitation.

  “Goodbye,” he whispered in his thoughts to Seth, Liyan and the others. “I have faith we will see each other again soon.”

  Chapter Twenty Three

  “Amir, Amir? Can you hear me? Answer me.”

  “Noman?”

  “No, I am Xith. Welcome back; you just sit there. You have been under too much strain lately. You will ride in the coach today and rest.”

  “Xith?”

  “Yes, you just rest now, everything will be fine.”

  “Where is Noman?”

  “Never mind, you just rest there a moment more.”

  Xith indicated that Shchander and Nijal should help Amir into the carriage now. The two did as they were bid, but it took a third to bear such an enormous burden. Nijal grabbed Amir on the left, Shchander on the right, and Trailer took the feet, stepping into the coach first and then carefully turning with the others to carry Amir inside.

  The pace was lethargic this day as anticipation grew to a new high. The road joined with the great river and now ran along its course. Krepost’ lay a day away at best and soon the sea would separate them from the lands of East and West. Noman turned to thoughts of supplies they would need for the north, and while the others turned to thoughts of Krepost’, a song sprang to their lips.

  Adrina stared fixedly at Amir with open concern upon her face. She watched him for a time, growing restless, and finally turning her attentions to the scenery around her. She could hear the churning of water even over the rolling of the wagon’s wheels and the clippety-clop of the horses’ hooves. A voice startled her, and though she knew better, she stuck her head out the window, looking for the speaker.

  “You would do best to turn around, friends,” rang the lofty voice.

  “Turn around?” asked Xith. “Why whatever for?”

  “And what makes us your friends?” asked Nijal.

  “Whoa, hold on there. You be talking to old Kelar. I can see clearly you are from the west and have traveled far, so I will tell you this: ‘tis not a good time to be happening upon our fair city.”

  Noman smiled and considered the words before responding. “We will watch our path, friend Kelar, thanks.” Kelar just waved and continued on his way. The others in his party passed without saying a word. Xith turned to Noman and raised an eyebrow. He was glad to know some things didn’t change. The people of Krepost’ were still as odd and unpredictable as he recalled them.

  Hours later, after several stops, the descending sun on the horizon lighted a most magnificent sight. High upon a steep bluff with cliff walls cascading down to meet the bay sat the city of Krepost’, coming into view at long last. The only road that cut its way to the top of the aerie lay just across the river. The distance they needed to traverse and the climb would unfortunately cost them several hours of toil before this day was over, but they would gladly pay the price.

  A cool breeze came in across the bay on a direct westerly course, bringing with it an odor of salt that assaulted the senses. Travel-weary bodies gained a new surge of energy that swept them onward; even the horses seemed to sense a long-deserved rest ahead. Shchander raced Nijal to the river, charging his mount to the very edge of the water.

  The two stood there, waiting for the others to catch up. Nijal considered the promise he had made to himself some weeks ago when the nine men had joined their company. Once they reached the coast, their journey together would end. As he watched Shchander’s lighthearted mood, he let the thoughts slip away. He would consider them at another time, perhaps after several days of rest.

  Xith reined the horses to a halt, stepped down from the coach, and then walked over to a lantern hanging from a small post. For a moment, he thought about lighting it with a spark of magic, but the idea was short-lived. He retrieved flint and steel and set a spark to the lamp, raising it high above his head, and rotating it from right to left.

  In the falling light, he waited for the signal to return, thinking that perhaps the brightness of the setting sun obscured the response. He waited until the sun sank from sight, and then repeated his signal. He paused, waiting patiently, and then handed the lantern to Nijal. Hearts sank after minutes passed with still no response; nonetheless, they waited.

  Discouraged, they set up camp without much discussion. The lights of the city pointing the distance canceled any feelings of merriment. This stage of their journey would last one more day, and there was nothing they could do about it although Xith did work up a long list of harsh words to launch at the barge-master.

  Amir awoke from a long day’s sleep just as the sky was shrouded in darkness. He was still quite groggy as he approached the fire where most were seated. The smell of fish surprised his nostrils. Nijal and Shchander muttered something about idle hands when he inquired where the meal had come from. Stiffly, Amir sat down on the ground. The raging hunger in his belly was quenched, but only after his third helping.

  As the time for the first watch arrived and the men began to retire for the evening, Amir offered to take the first watch, claiming he wasn’t tired in the least. Shchander, who was supposed to have the first watch anyway, said he would hold the watch with Amir. The sounds around them began to die out, the crackle of the fire was replaced by the swirl of the water, and later the sound of laughter drifted into their ears and into their thoughts.

  Shchander turned cold eyes to the glow in the distance. Before the last embers from the fire were extinguished, he stocked and restored it. Soon it was a cheerful blaze once more. A sudden crackling sound from behind him startled Shchander. He stood and walked toward it.

  “Don’t worry, Shchander. It was nothing.”

  “But, I thought—”

  “Only an animal passing by, come back to the fire.”

  Shchander sat back down, casting away the dark thoughts in his mind. As the last hour of their watch wore on, the day’s travel caught up to Shchander and his eyes grew heavy. He could scarcely hold them open. “Go get some rest. Shalimar will take over in a few minutes—I can sit out the rest by myse
lf,” offered Amir, and Shchander accepted. Sleep found him as soon as he put his head down to rest.

  Amir never roused Shalimar or anyone else. He sat the guard throughout the hours of darkness. The first shards of morning light found him sitting beside a low fire. His attention was turned toward the black waters where the river joined the bay. He was careful to wake Noman and Xith last.

  Breakfast was quick, and most did not eat at all. The ferry came into view just as they broke camp. Xith waited, lantern in hand, closely eyeing the old one who guided those who pushed the barge along its course. As it landed on the shore, Xith blew out the lamp and set it back on its post. He organized the words that gnawed at his thoughts all night. “Hello—” he greeted the barge-master coldly, stopping only to work out his remaining words.

  “Well, a good day to you, and such a beautiful day it is. Well, well, what are you waiting for? Come aboard, and I will take you across the river for a pittance.”

  The warm salutation caused Xith to stumble in venting his wrath and what came out was not what he intended. “And just how much is that going to cost us?”

  “Less than you would think, my friend. Come, step aboard, and we’ll carry you off to the northern shore. The fair city of Krepost’ waits. The market is just awakening. You can catch a fair amount of goods for a goodly sum if you are quick. So you must hurry!”

  “Do you wish payment now or later?”

  “We’ll have time on the river for petty things. Come and listen to the words of an old river man. I’ll tell you things you’ve never heard, and I’ll charge you a meager fare, but only for the river’s crossing. You need not pay for the words unless you’ve a mind.”

  Xith cursed low under his breath and boarded with the others. The barge-master caught the malice in his eyes and was quick to burst into a story and to set the barge on its return course. Thankfully, everyone was able to get onto the ferry without trouble. The river here was quite swift although in this section it was also shallow and was normally turbulent. The raft was of generous proportions.