Journey of Wisdom

by Shawna Thomas

  Peering into the unyielding darkness, a hand on Mohan’s arm, Ilythra continued placing one foot in front of the other. She was thankful they hadn’t yet run into any Rugians. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to fight; it was taking all her willpower to keep walking.

  A pinprick of light teased her retinas. Ilythra blinked. It was real. She picked up her pace as the pinprick grew to an opening. Mohan grasped her hand. In the dim light, she could see him shake his head.

  She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. There could be sentries at the other end. A legion of Rugians...anything. She nodded and kept pace with Mohan.

  The sky, now gray with the promise of dawn, filled the growing dot of light. Her body felt limp with a short-lived relief. She let Mohan have a few steps on her. Silently, they moved forward. Cool, fresh air dried the sweat from her face.

  As the opening grew, their steps slowed. She strained her ears to hear anything and jumped when a bird chirped.

  Mohan paused at the exit and held up a hand. Did he really expect her to stay in the darkness while he scouted? The Benai crouched down and spun out of sight. Ilythra pressed herself against the rock wall but heard nothing, save for the faint sound of leather on rock. She followed Mohan.

  Mohan stood, staring out at a vast valley. The path, well-worn by use, hugged the mountainside as it wound down into the forested valley. More mountains stood in the distance, still capped in white.

  “A secret valley,” she muttered.

  Mohan shrugged. “Guess they got word we were invading and ran away.” He kept his voice low.

  Ilythra glanced back at the tunnel, then to the lightening sky. Tall trees grew in abundance, shadowing the trail and limiting visibility. There could be an army of Rugians around the bend and they wouldn’t be able to see them. Sheer rock rose on one side of the path. The other side dropped off. She walked over to peer over the edge. A ledge of some kind lay about three lengths below the first. The growing sunlight revealed rocks littering the uneven ground. “Maybe so, but if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to get off this road as soon as possible. Can you climb?”

  “I am a man of many talents. Most of which are sadly going unused.” He raised an eyebrow. “After you, my lady.”

  Flipping on her stomach, Ilythra lowered herself down the rock wall. She found a toehold and, trusting her sense of touch, slowly made her way down until she could jump onto solid ground.

  Mohan casually leaned against the wall on the road below. His lithe body relaxed as though he were standing surrounded by his troupe.

  How had he beaten her down? “What are you doing?” Ilythra brushed the dust off her leggings.

  “I was enjoying the view.” He winked.

  The blue of the sky deepened as they picked their way along the eroding ledge, which appeared to be an old road that ran parallel to the path above. They turned a corner, allowing a clear view down into the valley. Columns of smoke rose from between the trees. Ilythra stopped to count. Campfires? If so, there were hundreds. This was no mining operation. Her heart pounded against her ribs.

  “It looks like an army.” Mohan’s quiet words confirmed Ilythra’s thought.

  “We need to find a place to sleep.”

  “Let me guess. We’re going down there.”

  Ilythra grinned. “Me and you against the Rugian army, right?”

  Mohan shrugged. “Maybe we’ll find a few allies around the campfire.”

  She sipped from her water skin. “I’m counting on it.”

  * * *

  Vibrations in the stone at her back jarred Ilythra’s eyes open. Sunlight slanted from the west, throwing each rock into clear relief. They’d slept a good portion of the day. She caught Mohan’s gaze. They both looked up. Someone, many someones, traveled the road above them. Soon the shuffle of feet and the occasional shout could be heard. Sword in hand, she pressed farther against the rock wall. Ilythra glanced up and down the rocky path they’d followed. There was no better hiding place.

  A rough voice yelled in Rugian above them. Laughter followed the thud of a boot hitting flesh. Mohan tensed. She placed a hand on his arm and shook her head. She didn’t like staying hidden any better than he did, but showing themselves wasn’t going to help the poor soul being beaten. The guttural tones of Rugian sounded above, and then a truncated cry. Mohan shut his eyes.

  “Slaves.” His eyes shone like flint as he mouthed the word. Ilythra nodded. Prisoners. Erhard. The king had said they’d sent prisoners to the mines. These might be villagers that she’d treated, people she knew. People like Res. Anger burned slowly in her gut. She stared at the rock wall above them. Erhard had sent Res, the husband of the woman who’d hidden them from the castle guard, to the mines. If he was still alive, he was here somewhere in the valley.

  Once the sounds faded into the distance, birds once again flitted in trees, chirping to one another. A squirrel paused to examine them, cheeks bulging out of proportion to its body, before it scurried up the tree, disappearing in thick green branches.

  “Stay here.” Without waiting for a reply, Mohan scrambled up the incline and disappeared on the road above. His face appeared a moment later. “They left one. He’s alive. Barely.”

  Ilythra grit her teeth together. Bastards. They’d left him to die. “Can you bring him down?”

  Mohan nodded. Mumbling and the sound of sliding footsteps sounded above. Mohan appeared with a man attached to his back with ropes. Slowly he made his way down the cliff. Ilythra reached to guide them down.

  Bony arms and legs stuck out of clothing that had seen too much wear. Shock and then rage filled her. How could anyone treat another human being like that? She helped untie the ropes, and Mohan carried the man to their shelter.

  Dark eyes fluttered open.

  “We’re not gonna hurt you,” Mohan whispered.

  The eyes closed.

  Ilythra pulled open the man’s shirt to examine his wounds. He stank of fear and filth. His stomach was a mass of purple and yellow marks. When Mohan turned him over, she discovered crisscrossed scars lined his back.

  “He’s dehydrated, underfed and beaten.” She turned her gaze to Mohan. His dark eyes burned with quiet fury.

  “Jarin. My name is Jarin.” The man’s words were so faint, she barely heard them.

  “I’m Ilythra, and this is Mohan.” She removed her water skin and placed it near Jarin’s mouth. He drank greedily. She pulled it away before he was done. “Too much and it won’t stay down.”

  Jarin nodded and scooted against the wall to a more upright position, wincing as he did so. “I’d have died up there. Thank you. I just didn’t have the strength for one more step.”

  “Where were you going?” Ilythra asked.

  “The mines. It’s where they take you to start and to finish.”

  Mohan and Ilythra shared a glance. “I take it you’re not starting?” she asked.

  “They were taking me to die there. Me an’ the rest of ’em.”

  Ilythra offered him more water. For a moment, her words failed her. He’d been treated worse than an animal. “Where are you from?”

  “I’m a peddler. At least I was. From Elston.”

  Ilythra met Mohan’s gaze over Jarin’s head again. Mohan’s eyes echoed her own surprise. Peddlers weren’t protected by the Trader’s Creed, but they were generally respected.

  “How did you get here?” Mohan asked.

  The man shrugged and accepted a piece of leftover pheasant from Mohan. “Drinkin’ at the tavern one night. Got in a fight. Woke up on my way here. I tried to fight but...” He shrugged and chewed the meat. “Been here for three winters now. I’ve heard that’s more than most last.”

  “Are there a lot of slaves down there?”

  He shrugged. “Just got a new shipment in last moon or so. They beat th
em into submission at the mines, then send ’em to forges.”

  “Can you walk?”

  Jarin attempted to stand then shook his head. “Sorry, ma’am. I just ain’t got the strength.”

  “It’s okay. You stay here and rest. We’ll be back.”

  Mohan stared hard at her. “They’ll know about the dead guards.”

  “Yes, they will. Let’s hope your trick worked and the Rugians think they’re the victims of thieves.” Purpose thrummed through her blood. She smiled. It had been a long time since she was absolutely sure of her next move.

  “What do you plan to do down there?” Mohan asked.

  “Rescue a few slaves. Not all, but as many as we can.” Ilythra retrieved her medicine pouch.

  “How?”

  She stared down at Ilydearta, lost herself in the deep blue stone. She was done hiding. Done being afraid of Bredych. She was a stone keeper. Her task was to reunite the stones to bring harmony back to Anatar. She hadn’t really understood what that meant when she’d started. But she knew now. It wouldn’t happen overnight, but it wouldn’t happen at all if she stood by and became an observer. What had happened to Jarin, what was happening in the valley, was a part of the rot that infected Anatar. It was the result of a stone of power being used contrary to its purpose.

  She had a lot to learn about how to use her stone, but putting it on the shelf, hiding it away, wasn’t an option. Ilythra slipped the pendant over her neck. “I’ll find a way.”

  * * *

  Ilythra picked her way through dense forest. Mohan trailed several paces behind her. Vegetation grew lush and thick, making walking difficult. They needed to find some water. She’d emptied Mohan’s skin into hers and left it and all their food with Jarin.

  “Do I need to remind you that there’s still an army of Rugians down there?”

  “No. Us against the Rugian hordes. Remember?” Energy pumped through her body. Life swirled around her in vibrant detail. She’d been looking at the world through a glass and now she could see. How had she kept it off for so long? Teann blew through the trees, eddied in the dust, swam through the air. She breathed it in. A river was near. The plants, ground and even air held more moisture. That took care of their water problem. Now she needed to see what she was up against.

  Mohan sidestepped a sizeable hole. “At this rate I think the road would be safer.”

  “Quicker definitely, but safer? I don’t think so.”

  He mumbled under his breath. Skirting an outcropping, she moved to a better spot with a clear sight into the valley. The fading daylight revealed several buildings. One boasted a chimney spouting black smoke into the pale blue sky. The forge.

  Men moved along the valley floor, dark shapes against pale green grass. Flashes of white between the trees revealed more tents than those apparent in the clearing. How many?

  “We’ll spend the night here and scout out the camp tomorrow.”

  Mohan stood near her. “You realize this is madness.”

  “I can see how you’d think that.” She didn’t turn.

  “Do you have a plan?”

  “Rescue the prisoners,” she deadpanned.

  “Great.” He swore and grabbed Ilythra’s arm before she started down the path. “You should have some kind of plan.”

  “Did you, when you rescued me?” She raised an eyebrow.

  Mohan’s mouth opened then shut. “That’s not really fair. I’m a charming Benai with a gift of escaping destruction, and you—”

  “I am a stone keeper and it’s about time I acted like it. Ilydearta is the way maker. It will find us a way in.”

  “I thought you didn’t know how to use it?”

  She grinned. “I don’t.”

  His brow furrowed. “You’re not inspiring confidence.”

  She stopped and turned toward her friend. “You could go home, or go wait with Jarin. I’m not asking you to come with me.”

  “You don’t have to ask.” Mohan’s blue eyes softened.

  “I know.” She placed her hand on his cheek. “And I love you for it. But this does seem crazy.”

  “And I’ve never seen you look so sane.” He shook his head. “Love a woman who takes charge. Lead on.”

  * * *

  Ilythra skirted the second set of men guarding the perimeter of the camp. The guards were paired and two deep. That was smart. In theory, they’d keep each other alert, and most likely one man couldn’t overpower two Rugian warriors, especially the weak and abused men she’d seen in and around the Rugian camp. If an escaped slave got past the first set of sentries, he wouldn’t make it past the second. Clever.

  She and Mohan had separated early that morning to scout out the camp and surrounding landscape. They’d agreed to regroup at sunset. She glanced at the fading sun. It was time to go back. The sound of voices and footsteps carried on the wind. Ilythra melted behind a large tree. The forest abruptly ended several wheels from the first structure. The ground had been meticulously cleared of all foliage. Only a few large trees remained. The rock formations had even been pulverized to eliminate any hiding places.

  However, that wasn’t the case a short distance from the sentries. The tangle of old forest bracken and rocks surrounded the cleared area like an additional guard. It might make for good hiding but would slow any escape attempt enough to make for easy capture. If they did manage to free the slaves, they’d have to take them on the road. It was the fastest way to the cave and the only exit from the valley she knew about. Unfortunately, if there was pursuit, it would also be easier for the Rugians to catch them.

  The sentries spoke in relaxed tones to each other. One of them laughed. The other pulled something from his pocket that looked like small bones, and the two sat down. The first threw bones between them. The Rugians were organized but bored. Neither expected anything to happen on their watch. She could use that in her favor. Ilythra hoped Mohan spotted the setup too. She shook her head. If not, she’d have heard the alarm. The camp was well fortified and guarded. Without Mohan, her task was all the more difficult, if not impossible.

  She reached for Ilydearta. Not impossible. Ilydearta will make a way where there is no way. Teann will move through you like breath. Zeynel, her mentor and friend, had tried to teach her about Teann and the stone, but he’d been killed far away on the deserts of the Faisach by a man who was under the influence of Bredych and his stone, Crioch. The stones were the catalysts between the keepers and Teann, the lifebreath of the universe. She’d tried to use the stone only a few times, with varying degrees of success. But if Zeynel was right, it wouldn’t so much be a matter of trying. She never tried to breathe. Maybe she just had to let go.

  Ilythra closed her eyes. Power pulsed through the stone. It felt like ocean waves buffeting her body. Like breath. She concentrated on the rhythm. It moved not just through the stone, but through the stone into her and out again. A cycle complete.

  Slowly, she moved away from the guards, toward the camp, careful not to make any noise. The trees remaining around the camp were wider around than she and Mohan could span together and threw deep shadows from the light in the camp.

  She leaned against the last tree, merging their shadows. Holding very still, she gazed into the camp. Two large wooden buildings occupied the center of the clearing, flanked by two smaller structures. Smoke billowed from the largest building. Dim light shone through mismatched boards of the other. The structure would do little to keep the winter winds at bay. Slave quarters. Smoke poured out of the smaller structure closest to her. A Rugian emerged from the doorway, rubbed his eyes and headed across the clearing. He paused at a tree, relieved himself and continued on his way.

  Charming.

  In the distance, and close to where she stood, pale tents circled the buildings. Briefly closing her eyes, she felt along the winds of Teann. There wa
s a faint dissonance here. Bredych’s signature. He must have used the stone here fairly recently. She could still sense Crioch, but distantly. He wasn’t near now. That was good. Very good.

  Large tents littered the outskirts of the camp. She crept to the closest one. A man emerged, carrying a barrel on each shoulder. Ilythra froze instead of trying to hide behind the tree. Motion drew the eye more quickly than a sedentary figure. Something she’d learned from Mohan. Being friends with a thief had its advantages. The Rugian walked to one of the larger buildings and disappeared inside.

  She glanced toward the darkening sky. It was time to meet Mohan. Her gaze settled on the tent before her. She chewed her bottom lip, an idea forming. The tent stood about two wheels inside the rough clearing. It was open ground with only the occasional tree stump to hide her from view.

  Laughter from the nearest guard assured her they weren’t keeping a close watch on the camp. The clearing before her was almost empty. She whispered a prayer, sprinted toward the tent, threw herself to the ground and rolled under the heavy material and into a solid bulky form.

  Chapter Four

  Mohan swallowed back his fear for what seemed like the hundredth time. They’d agreed to scout the camp then meet back up right at nightfall. Mohan had taken one side; she had taken the opposite. Stars peppered the sky, and still no Ilythra. Would he need to rescue her again? Had she spotted the second layer of sentries? He shook his head. How could she have missed them? What if she’d fallen under the spell of the scent again? He swallowed hard. He’d have heard the commotion if she’d been captured. This lot didn’t seem like the stealthy type.

  He examined the loaf of bread he’d stolen from a drunk and sleeping Rugian. The filthy state of the man’s hands had turned his stomach, but food was food, and they didn’t have time to hunt or cook anything. He’d planned to surprise Ilythra with it. He stood and walked a short distance toward the camp. By the west wind, where was she?