Primeval Origins: Light of Honor (Book 2 in the Primeval Origins Epic Saga)

by Brett Vonsik

  “We must be careful,” Kardul explained in an even voice. “And you and your friends need to stay hidden while the caravan is here.”

  Rogaan gave Kardul a confused look. “Why?”

  “The Tusaa’Ner in the approaching caravan know your face,” Kardul explained. “They’ll toss you into that jailer wagon the moment you’re spotted.”

  The Tusaa’Ner was rather insistent at putting me in irons, Rogaan reflected. And . . . he, Pax, and Suhd had not planned for the added di’tij Tusaa’Ner guarding the wagons. They in the caravan did know of him . . . they and the whole town seemed to be after him and Pax. His ability to move freely about the di’tij here will be hindered after they arrive. Their plotting to free their parents had holes and just became more difficult than they planned. Rogaan looked to Kardul, who was looking to the main gate as if he was expecting to see someone. “Will you tell me more of your plan? How we would free our parents if we wait for the jailer wagons to return to the road toward Farratum?”

  It struck Rogaan then, that they need not wait until the jailer caravan arrives and departs this di’tij. They could stage their parents’ escape late tomorrow when they were rested with fresh sarigs and the caravan approaching this di’tij, with their folks and guardsmen tired and worn down from the day’s travel. It was as near a perfect opportunity as they could hope if they could figure a way to free their parents from those wagons without getting caught or killed. They would disappear into the wilds retracing their trail with Kardul and his Sharurs in the lead. With this new revelation and much excitement, Rogaan asked Kardul, “What if we—”

  A half-dozen Tusaa’Ner guardsmen pushed the main gate open and entered from the road. Clad in dark blue armor and helms, red waist sashes, short swords drawn, they looked ready for a fight. Intently they scanned the di’tij for someone of something. Their eyes fixed on Kardul and Rogaan. The red-caped Tusaa’Ner motioned for his men to follow as he stepped purposely toward him and Kardul. Kardul showed no emotion . . . no panic or even a concern as they approached. He stood, patiently watching them close the thirty-stride distance between them. A wave of panic welled up inside Rogaan. They are coming for me!

  “No good.” Pax spoke in a pained voice from just behind Rogaan.

  Rogaan nearly jumped out of his boots at Pax’s words, being surprised his friend got so close without him noticing. Kardul snapped his head around, his face a mix of surprise and annoyance. It was obvious Pax had surprised him, as well. Kardul’s eyes shot up from Pax, looking beyond him toward the Long Journey. The Kiuri’Ner’s eyes flashed what Rogaan thought was uncertainty or indecision for a moment before his jaw set in anger. Following Kardul’s stare, Rogaan found a fretful Suhd trotting toward them, followed by a walking Trundiir. His teeth now grinding and eyes narrowed, Kardul looked unhappy at all the added company.

  “You there!” An accusing voice resonated deeply.

  Rogaan’s innards turned to water as he spun around. Standing before him were six Tusaa’Ner, all with arms outstretched and their sword tips pointing at his chest.

  “Is it him?” One of the guardsmen asked nervously. The Tusaa’Ner looked young, in fact, younger than Rogaan himself, by the hairless chin under the helm, Rogaan guessed.

  “Tellen fits the description sent from Brigum,” the red-caped guardsman answered. The Tusaa’Ner leader looked at Kardul with uncertain eyes . . . No, more like questioning eyes, Rogaan caught in the moment before the guardsman set his jaw firm and stare turned stern. “Arrest him.”

  Kardul stepped between the Tusaa’Ner and Rogaan. The Tusaa’Ner leader exchanged a questioning stare with Kardul. Rogaan was not sure what was happening; he stood looking on at the surreal scene playing out before him. Pax tugged on his wrist trying to drag Rogaan from what looked to be a brewing fight. Kardul calmly announced, “Nobody’s getting arrested.”

  “I have my orders,” the Tusaa’Ner leader stated in his young, stern voice.

  “I have mine,” Kardul countered. “You’ll make no arrest here.”

  “I insist,” the Tusaa’Ner leader countered back with defiance that seemed to surprise him. “You have no authority here, Kardul. Yours is on the roads and in the forest. Not within these guarded walls.”

  Kardul’s Sharurs stepped from the shadows all around them, making their presence known. The Tusaa’Ner commander took in the attempt at intimidation. He hesitated, but only for a moment before raising his fist. More than a dozen archers, crossbowmen and longbow men alike, immediately raised their weapons with nocked bolts and arrows, pointing them at Kardul and Rogaan. Kardul remained calm, how . . . Rogaan did not know. His own insides felt as if they were about to explode, and his gut cramping was so tight it would double him over if this kept up for long. Kardul stood silent and motionless for a time. It felt forever to Rogaan. Even Pax had stopped tugging at his left wrist. Suhd made her way to his side, wrapping her arms around his right bicep and snuggling up close with eyes wide with fear. She felt wonderful against him, but this was a dangerous moment that could go out of control in a flinch. He needed to get her away from him so she would be safe.

  “Do it your way,” Kardul held the Tusaa’Ner leader’s eyes in a level stare. With a wave of Kardul’s left hand, the Sharur melted back into the shadows. The red-caped Tusaa’Ner nodded in satisfaction, then motioned for his men to take Rogaan.

  “Nooooo!” Suhd resisted Rogaan trying to peel her from him.

  “You must,” Rogaan told her in his gentlest voice while looking into her frightened, pained eyes. Pax stepped back as the guardsmen grabbed Rogaan, while Suhd had to be forced by one of the guardsmen by grabbing her wrist and pulling her away. Rogaan’s blood boiled at the Baraan touching her and being rough enough that she grimaced.

  “Take the other younglings too,” the caped Tusaa’Ner commanded.

  “No!” Rogaan growled. “You want me, not them. I will go quietly. Just leave them be.”

  “Yes, you will go quietly, stoner,” the young Tusaa’Ner leader agreed maliciously.

  Two blue-clad guardsmen grabbed his arms tightly, restraining him. Two more did their best to take hold of Pax, but he was too fast for them, spinning and rolling and weaving until he was lost to the shadows near the barracks. Another guardsman grabbed a handful of Suhd’s long black hair and pulled her head back, causing her pain enough that she yelled out. The guardsman grinned and seemed to enjoy his domination of her. Rogaan’s blood could be no hotter. Without warning, his world slowed. Rogaan quickly realized everyone seemed to move half his speed. The sickening feel in his innards and head that usually came with this strange perception was pushed aside easily by him this time. Instead of fighting this sensation, as he did previously, Rogaan instead embraced his heightened senses and new physical self. Jerking free of the Tusaa’Ner holding his arms, Rogaan charged the guardsman taking his amusement with Suhd’s suffering. He closed the five-stride distance in what seemed to him to be a bound before slamming his fist and forearm into the helmed face of the guardsman. The Tusaa’Ner went crumpling to the ground after Rogaan struck the Baraan’s head as hard as he could. The Baraan bounced off the ground, then slid a stride into a stable yard fence post where he lay unmoving. Rogaan looked to Suhd who appeared as shocked as relieved not having her hair being used as a restraint and that the guardsman went down so easily. She reached out to him and touched his left forearm. When Rogaan looked into her eyes, his world slowed and he heard her words of thanks. Rogaan’s heart skipped a beat, and his hands trembled as he took hers. Just as he calmed and started to lose himself in her eyes and touch, fear filled those radiant blue moons as she looked past Rogaan. He turned as fast as he could, placing Suhd behind him to shield her from whatever danger she saw. Two sword pommels filled his vision just before the world went dark.

  Chapter 4

  Liberty’s End

  A clatter of metal on stone echoed in the darkness. Rogaan’s he
ad felt like it would explode from the noise. Ringing in his head brought his eyes to a painful wince as he tried to look after the noise, but found the darkness he was in too deep. Where am I? He asked himself as his heartbeat quickened a little. His thinking felt sluggish, a struggle to form thoughts and hold focus on them. What is wrong with me? A flash of panic struck him, remembering the pair of pommels in his face. He fought back the panic by controlling his breathing . . . slow . . . even. The old method taught to archers and others needing focus, calm to do what they do. He wanted to hold onto his reason and clear his head enough to learn what happened to him. Retreating footfalls echoed, boots he thought, accompanied by an unintelligible mumbling of words that sounded like gravel poured in a pile and a snide chuckle made him feel as if he was not among friends. An iron door squealed closed on unoiled hinges, and a heavy swing latch set in place confirmed his fears.

  “Ya be awake?” An urgent, but familiar soft voice made Rogaan’s heart jump. “Rogaan . . .”

  “I am,” Rogaan replied. He realized he lay on his back on a cool stone surface. “Everything is dark. I cannot see.”

  Silence filled the air. Rogaan worried he was dreaming Suhd was near. He tried to raise himself, but felt as if a tanniyn sat on him. He could not move, not his arms, not his legs, not even raise his head.

  “They beat ya awful and gave ya a foul drink forced in ya.” Suhd sounded as if she was in tears.

  Rogaan’s concern for Suhd’s safety exploded, causing a stout determination to fill him. He did not know where he was or what of their predicament, but he had to keep her safe. With a growl he lifted his head, then his arms and shoulders, forcing himself into an upright sitting position. Every fiber of his muscles ached and burned. His head throbbed fiercely and for a few moments he feared he was to pass out, evidently again. Once sitting upright, he kept still for a while until his head slowed its spinning. He tried opening his eyes again. A distant dim light was all he saw. He focused on it. It came closer. His head pains dulled. The light grew. A blurred view of his bloodstained charcoal pants and boots formed. After a time, his vision cleared well enough to see he sat in a fired brick jail cell with bars, a cell door in front of him, and bars to his right. The light was dim, maybe dawn or dusk, he was uncertain. Suhd sat in her dirty and torn green dress in the cell next to him with streaks of tears showing she had cried on her dirt-smudged face.

  Rage welled up inside Rogaan at the sight of Suhd. Who dared touch her . . . harm her? He demanded in his mind. All his pain fled as he rose to his feet. At first he almost tumbled over, if not for the bars of the cell to hold him up. Fighting through his body’s refusal to respond to his mind, he kneeled at the bars next to Suhd. Reaching through the bars he tenderly lifted her chin. Her radiant blue eyes, even reddened with so many tears, melted him. “Who harmed you?”

  “The guards had intentions, but lost them when Trundiir and Kardul straightened them some,” Suhd answered, then further explained with renewed tears flowing down her cheeks. “They threw me in here with ya the night before last. Ya got angry at the guards for throwing me and knocked two of them down before a bunch of them jumped on ya and beat ya. Then they poured some foul-smelling drink in ya, and ya didn’t move since. I feared . . . thought ya lightless, Rogaan. I thought ya lightless.”

  Tears flowed down her beautiful cheeks. How could anyone hurt Suhd? Rogaan asked himself. He sat and held her through the bars for a long time before her crying slowed to sniffles. As he calmed, he started to feel bruises all about him. It seemed only his privates and left side were spared. Everything else hurt, even his hair. The cells grew brighter in the dawn light. He and Suhd occupied the only two cells where they were being held, each with their own iron door and only one cell, hers, had a barred window. That window was almost up four strides of the five-stride-tall wall. The walls were made of fired brick, all fitted with mortar. Not well made . . . likely Baraan doing, but functional. An untouched tin pan with a slopped on pile of something Rogaan could not guess at what sat just inside of Suhd’s cell. A dirty and torn blanket lay on cots in each cell. Chamber pots next to the cots completed the decor. Not the vision he had when thinking of places to be alone with Suhd. Rogaan’s mouth felt parched, and his head pain returned, though now dull.

  “How long?” Rogaan asked Suhd while he held her as close as he could.

  “Two nights,” she answered without looking up from his arm where her head rested.

  “What of Pax?” Rogaan asked, trying to piece together their predicament.

  “He ran when we be arrested.” Suhd sounded happy and sad at the same time. “Don’t know about him after that except for the guards grumbling about a squirt of a shadow that keeps slipping away from them.”

  Rogaan smiled at that. Pax was good at few things most would not call useful, but sneaking about was his best. Rogaan hoped his friend had a plan to get them out of these cells so they could still set their parents free. His stomach suddenly rumbled loudly, embarrassing him.

  “Ya must be hungry after not eating for days,” Suhd stated as she lifted her head a little. She pulled that pan of something toward her. “It’s not too bad . . . if you close ya eyes and hold ya nose, but its food. Here . . .”

  Rogaan looked at the pan she held with mixed thoughts. He was hungry, but not so certain hungry enough to eat the yellowish gruel. Suhd looked at him with eyes pleading. She was pragmatic beyond her years, and he did not know if he liked that at the moment. “You need your strength. It might be all we have if we are ta break free.”

  Suhd smiled at him as she tenderly brushed his cheek with her fingers. Despite the iron bars, cold, hard floor, and their dank surroundings, he felt warm . . . all over. He just wanted to sit there with her tender touch on his arm and cheek and not worry about the world. He closed his eyes, and they were sitting on the rocks overlooking the Tamarad River in Brigum watching the fish and snapjaws play. The breeze around Brigum was still in the morning dawn with Suhd’s hair smelling of wildflowers. Suhd stirred and squeezed his arm. Rogaan opened his eyes to the dank cells and a beautiful Suhd brushing his cheek. Her eye shifted looking from him to the tin pan. Rogaan looked at the contents of the pan and reluctantly decided Suhd was right, but he also needed her strong enough to run when time came. He smiled at her, “Are we to share?”

  The iron-strapped wood door to the jail cells swung open slamming against the brick inner wall, startling both Rogaan and Suhd. A large Baraan dressed in a dark charcoal tunic and pants held tight at the waist by a wide hide belt that matched his boots and with a belt sash of gray, stood with hands on hips in the doorway. The sash also carried the color red, telling Rogaan the short, brown-bearded Baraan was of Farratum . . . a jailer, or Sake, most likely. He fingered a whip that hung from his belt on one side and large sap from the other. The Baraan’s eyes were as intense as his arms and chest were big and powerful. The Sake stepped into the room along with two others also in dark uniforms, except they were of smaller stature. The big Sake pointed to the door to Suhd’s cell. The two smaller Baraans wasted no time in opening her cell and slapping the pan from her hands, sending the gruel across the floor and wall. Suhd reeled in fear as the men grabbed at her. Rogaan exploded in anger yelling at the dark-uniformed Baraans to leave her alone. The Baraans recoiled from his right hand as he reached through the bars trying to grab one of them. They dragged her wide-eyed with fear from the cell room leaving Rogaan and the big Baraan alone, staring at each other.

  “You’re as trouble as they said,” the big Baraan declared. “I want no more of this. Behave yourself or I’ll be hard on you . . . and her.” He said that last with a malevolent grin.

  Rogaan’s blood chilled ice cold in fear for Suhd for a moment, then launched himself in a fury at the Baraan, crashing into the bars grasping at him. “Leave her alone. I’ll tear anyone apart who harms her.”

  The big Baraan broke out in a satisfied smile. “You’re fit for the a
rena, you are?”

  “Shackle him,” the big Sake order of another pair of Baraan entering the room. They too were bigger in chest and arms than most. “And if he causes more problems, beat him until he stops or is lightless.”

  The three Sakes stepped back from the bars in an orderly way, allowing a slightly built companion in a black tunic and with graying hair to approach the cell with a slender hollow wood tube. A quick puff on the tube sent a cloud of dust into Rogaan’s face. Immediately he felt on fire inside and out as he choked and spat trying to breathe. Tears poured from his eyes such he could not see clearly. His throat and nose felt as if lava flowed through them. He coughed and sneezed, trying to get out whatever the little fellow put in there, to little avail. He heard the cell door squeal open and made out vague dark figures approaching him. He swung at them again, and again. They avoided his punches, then split one to either side of him before he felt something slam against his head, sending him stumbling to the wall where he came to rest on one knee leaning against the rough brick. Everything was wrong, spinning around, and upside down. Rogaan felt about to fall over . . . whichever direction that was. They pounced on him as he came to lie on the floor, shackling his wrists and ankles before he knew what was happening.

  “To my liking,” the big Sake spoke with bravado. “Get him to the wagons. Keep him from the lass. This one gets his temper up when she’s near.”

  Rogaan drifted on currents of air with the help of others he was only vaguely aware of. He felt his boots dragging along a hard surface, then a softer one. Voices called out all about him conversing between themselves in words he did not understand. The burning in his throat and eyes lessened, but now a painful head throbbing added to his misery. The squeaking of metal hinges rang loudly just before he found himself floating in air, completely. Sharp pain then racked his body as something slammed into his head and right shoulder. He no longer floated; instead, he painfully lay on his back on a hard surface he thought wood before plunging into a world of grays and vague, distant voices.