by AS Hamilton
Most horses had no concept of talent or the apprenticeship required to master them. Yet Sershja had seen how Brynn's tutors demanded perfection of him, urging him to train harder, excel more, and extend his boundaries. The horse understood little of the 'why', but he understood that a heavy burden was laid on his young friend and his peers to master their talents as quickly as possible.
Brynn nodded and lightly grasped Sershja's muzzle. 'I know, I know,' he said softly. 'Too many mistakes like this will cost me, though. I should have perceived the patrol well before I heard them, and applying a filter when scanning a mind should be automatic for me by now.'
'You're still an apprentice, as you grow more experienced, you'll do better. You should practice more. I know where we're going, you could practice while we travel,' Sershja urged kindly.
'As long as you keep your mind on where we are going instead of day-dreaming about munching on the apples in Caradon's orchards,' Brynn chuckled.
Sershja butted Brynn hard enough for him to fall forward.
'Hey!' Brynn protested, laughing. Pulling himself to his feet, Brynn retrieved an apple from the saddlebags. He held it out on his palm to Sershja, who eagerly crunched it up.
'You're a good friend,' he sent, resting his forehead against the horse's own. 'You have relieved my mind of that which I would rather not have in it.'
Sershja whinnied and slyly asked; 'Does that mean I deserve two apples?'
Brynn sputtered in feigned disbelief, 'You crafty trickster! I'm stunned you didn't ask for three!'
Sershja pawed at the ground and snuffled in apology, he'd meant to play along with Brynn's attempt to lighten the mood, he'd not meant for Brynn to take him seriously. The charger then realised Brynn had understood his intention, because his friend retrieved two more apples and held them out to him. Brynn had been so convincing in his mock-offence that he'd fallen for the act. He snorted. 'I'm not the only crafty one here,' he observed, relieved Brynn had understood his motives. But then, they had faced danger many times and one of the best ways to cope, they'd found, was to use humour to dispel the fear and tension.
'You still fall for my act every time,' Brynn mused light-heartedly. 'You are a faithful and brave companion, Sershja, ever will I consider you kin.'
Sershja happily draped his head over Brynn's shoulder as he chewed his treat. 'Kin are never so angry they will not forgive,' he recited the long-known phrase.
'Remember, seeca,' Brynn added, using the elvan word for kin, 'once I run out of these, there will be no more for quite some time.'
Sershja whinnied with dismay. 'Not even in one of the many market places of Sal-Cirus?'
'If I have time and opportunity,' Brynn promised, trying to hide his amusement.
Day 2 – Morning
Mehani Woods
The warrior watched the patrol leave the clearing. Had they looked back, the departing patrol would have seen the ominous shadow of an armoured rider astride an imposing black, dwarven charger. The horse's long, curving horns scythed the light dappling through the trees. This charger was old enough to have a second shorter horn just beginning to branch out from each of her first ones. Unlike most dwarven chargers, who would allow their riders to merge minds with them so their riders could control them in combat, this charger had been trained to kill independently. The warrior horse exhaled sharply, but did not move, all too aware of the black and dark red-gold feathered hawk resting between her ears.
The rider herself was tall, due to her elvan heritage. Black and dark red-gold hair lay in a single braid down her shoulder, emerging from the helm she wore. The hawk-shaped helm concealed all except a delicate mouth and the small straight scar above her lip. The armour left her arms bare, its protection extending to her throat, and an armoured skirt covered her to the knees. Armour-plated boots protected the full length of her shins and knees.
The hawk launched into the air and soon she could see him. She had first seen him last evening. He had been laid out on a ridge and she had assumed he was scouting the field below before he crossed. Right now, he was looking over a small pile of gear, before collecting his knives and a unique wrist-mounted crossbow. The weapon was small and effective, if you could set it up fast enough. She had seen several men pull the lever to release the arms only to find they jammed.
She was intrigued. He was alone. Obviously free. It was possible that he was a rebel; but they would never be caught unaware by a patrol. The hawk landed in a tree on the riverbank opposite the clearing as the elvan knelt by the water to wash up. He was very young, but remarkably tall. Well-defined muscles flexed in the sunlight, suggesting that not only did he train regularly, he trained hard. The hawk spotted his horse grazing under the shade of the trees. Sariah spent some time examining the gear, chiefly the crossbow, as the elvan dried off and pulled on a blue tunic. She was disappointed, the weapon was constructed to look like a long bracer with very few parts giving away its design. He finished gearing up his horse and, soon enough, he left the clearing.
She called the hawk back to her. With practiced ease and gentleness, the hawk landed between the horse's ears, which the horse appreciated, the bird's talons could really cut deep sometimes. Lifting the hawk to her shoulder, the warrior signalled the horse forward; they needed to replenish their own supplies at the river before resuming their search.
Day 2 – Late Morning
Mehani Woods
Sershja snorted nervously; he could smell the tension of his rider. So far, there was nothing to substantiate Brynn's wariness, aside from a 'feeling' that bothered him. He was convinced it was just Brynn's nerves; his friend was edgy because of the caution required to travel undetected.
They had not followed the patrol, taking a lesser-used route. The area was densely wooded and the sun barely dappled the ground. The forest seemed deserted despite the singing of birds and the chattering of land-bound creatures. Sershja had to admit, even he felt an eerie shiver every so often.
This area would be ideal for an ambush, Sershja thought, casting an anxious look at the hill to one side. It was so thick with trees it was a wall of vegetation capable of concealing an army. To the other side was a short drop, which levelled out slightly before dense foliage concealed all else.
After what seemed like an age, they emerged into a more lightly covered area. Brynn sighed his relief and Sershja whinnied in agreement.
'Stay alert, seeca, I am not sure we are in the clear yet,' Brynn warned him. 'My skin itches, and you know that is never a good sign.'
They were barely fifty meters out of the heavier wood when Sershja heard a sharp command. He had only heard the patrol leader, Kinsen, speak once before in the clearing, but he could not mistake the deep, harsh tone. Not bothering to look behind him, Sershja charged forward, a wraith-like blur amongst the green.
'Cut through the trees,' Brynn instructed, bending low over his neck.
Sershja veered off the path and down the mountain. The gentle angle of the slope steadily steepened to the point that both rider and horse feared they would topple over. If Sershja made even a slight misjudgement...
Suddenly, a stream loomed up before them and, clumsily, Sershja hurdled it, landing with a grunt. He did not quite clear the stream and water splashed everywhere as he struggled out and up the opposite bank, their pursuers close behind.
Day 2 – Late Morning
Mehani Woods
(near Serenvale Plains)
The smell of crushed sila grass was starting to get rather strong, but Jador didn't mind it too much. It was very similar to lavender, but sweeter and thus quite cloying if one was subjected to great amounts of it. Leon had warned their new leader that crossing the field would have this effect, but Calwell wouldn't heed the tracker's advice. At least the man let them ride single file.
Jador had learned to stay out of it. The new leader was just another way for Thane Kennelm to make himself feel superior. First, he amalgamated rival groups, then, he decided to control how they were made up, and now
; new leadership. The Thane said it was to increase their effectiveness. The old tracker shook his head absently, did Nathan really think they were that dim? Just because they were mercenaries didn't mean they were uneducated or incapable of intelligent thought.
In truth, they knew the routine well; each thane did exactly the same thing. They all had to make their mark, as if it proved they were greater leaders by initiating change. At the same time, none of them seemed to comprehend, or at least care, that the next thane would simply erase that mark through the same relentless process. Nor did they realise that their restructures cost eminently more than the efficiency savings used to justify them.
Mercenaries learned to be an adaptable lot, and took advantage by varying their rates in direct correlation to the expertise, risk, and, most importantly, effort required to instill the changes the thanes demanded. Daniel's group was especially blessed in that they were trackers and scouts. There was not a lot of pride or power attached to controlling a bunch of rangers, so until Nathan, the thanes hadn't bothered, or lost interest fairly quickly.
Mostly, they escorted caravans through rebel-populated areas, scouting ahead to look for signs of rebels and changing their route to avoid confrontation. On occasion they had to defend the caravan, but Daniel's policy was to take prisoners, not kill, although the rebels were quick in extracting anyone left behind. Jador actually had a theory that the rebels avoided Daniel's men because they wouldn't kill. Imprisonment was worse than death for a rebel. The thanes could do more harm with a live rebel they could torture under the watch of a mage than a dead one.
There were other assignments, true enough, tracking missing caravans or slaves, or finding mineral deposits. Daniel also hired them out to accompany patrols, but rarely anything like this. Although from what his nephew said, they were earning triple their normal commission, so that made up for Nathan's obnoxious behaviour. In Jador's opinion the Thane's constant interventions were driven by a sense of inferiority.
Jador turned his wrinkled face towards the sun, enjoying the warmth on his skin. Soon his old body wouldn't take the punishment of field assignments. That's why he'd asked Daniel to let him accompany a group this time. Normally, his nephew had him doing the accounts, but over the last couple of sennats Ancoulan had become unbearable and Jador wanted a change.
This group mostly consisted of the new recruits the Thane had ordered join Daniel's teams, but they didn't seem too bad. At least Leon gave the impression he appreciated Jador's knowledge and often kept him company. Most of the others kept to themselves, which was strange to Jador. Daniel's teams behaved more like a family than a group of people forced to work together for their mutual benefit.
He'd forgotten how peaceful it could be out here, how pleasant the countryside was. He hoped the next five days passed about as slowly as this one. So far they'd merely ridden along the scheduled route. They were supposed to question anyone they came across, but they'd yet to see any travellers. Leon said the first village was coming up soon and that would relieve the boredom a little. For Jador, this assignment was looking to be far less arduous than trying to balance Daniel's accounts.
Day 2 – Late Morning
Denas
Malithorn Abbarane's senior elvan mage, Colnba, looked over the array of images spread out over the window of his private quarters. There were eight in all; each showing the view from one of the nur-nara in the cells of the elvan held captive here. Nur-nara were a device that captured vision and either stored it or, in this case, project it through Colnba's co-toor to the window here. Malithorn did not know of these captives — would never know.
Malithorn would kill them because they were too dangerous to keep.
Not one of them would hesitate to make a suicidal attempt to kill Malithorn.
So, the hatred was mutual.
In the case of the elvan though, not one would hesitate to kill themselves should Malithorn get a chance to interrogate them. It would not be cowardice, either, they wanted to prevent Malithorn from gaining their knowledge. All were talented, so in addition to physical incarceration, Colnba and Nisari employed planes-built cages to circumvent all methods of communication.
Only one captive had ever escaped. Sarre of the House of Tiengara. Colnba smiled despite his grim mood. Of course, it had been Sarre! Sarre had the ingenuity and the intelligence to achieve the miraculous. He missed Sarre's friendship. They had once shared an eight-bed dorm on the top floor of Debanikay Conservatoire during their apprenticeships in Ancoulan. The group, who were now mostly key rebel activists, had passed many nights on the rooftop, gazing at the stars and complaining, with great exaggeration, about their mentors and lessons. All of them had varying skills using mind-see, yet none had foreseen the events that would divide the group so drastically. But then, they'd been young and more interested in the present than the future. Had they any clue they would all play a part in The Prophecy of Desolation they would have reconsidered many of their decisions. He and Nisari would certainly have been content to wait until after they finished their apprenticeships before attempting the binding ritual that had gone so wrong before being rectified. Although the greater tragedy was that the solution provided a ruthless conqueror with the means to bring the elvan nation under his control.
Colnba shook his head in wonder as movement drew his gaze to one of the cells. Leyhera; the heir of Falkon-kai. Leyhera had moved to the series of windows inset in the side of the cliff overlooking the Phaenrul Ocean. The design was such that it allowed natural light in and a slim view while being concealed to any outside viewer should they be sailing by.
'Young Leyhera' they all called him, younger than Toormeena and undertaking his apprenticeship already. But like Toormeena, he needed training to control his talent. If Leyhera wasn't holed up in a corner with his research, he was with Toormeena. They had a lot in common, both being born without a twin as well as being child prodigies in their respective houses.
The thing these captives had in common was that they all had knowledge of The Prophecy. Although Keldon had captured Toormeena, who had seen the vision, Colnba and Nisari managed to intercept all the other key people.
Leyhera, an apprentice journey-walker, had sought out the future path on which The Prophecy occurred. Unlike, seers, journey-walkers rarely had unsought visions. Once experienced, a trained seer could pass on their memory of a vision, but they could not 'walk' it. A journey-walker had complete control of the paths they walked. This meant that rather than just 'seeing' the path, they could direct the focus. While a seer might ride through a specific route along which a vision occurred, the journey-walker could get off the horse and look around. His search for The Prophecy had been a regular source of light-hearted teasing. No one ever suspected that he would actually succeed.
It wasn't until they joined Keldon that Colnba and Nisari realised that their innocent, inquisitive friend was a very serious threat. Just as the thought crossed Colnba's mind, Leyhera looked directly at the nur-nara, his piercing azure and silver-gold eyes seeming to perceive not only that he was being watched, but being watched by Colnba.
'I made another attempt to draw information from him,' Nisari's low, silky voice sent a shiver of pleasure through him. His rahn, which was elvan for life-partner, ran a hand down his back as she stepped up beside him.
'I do not suppose I have any reason to rejoice.'
Nisari made a sound of indecision. 'Nothing as solid as direct knowledge.'
Colnba half turned, his expression one of curiosity.
'I was able to pick up impressions, a dream, I think. The focus is a female elvan. The dream is recurring and very vivid, else I would have perceived nothing. She is gesturing for him to follow her. That is all.'
Colnba ran his hand over her shoulder. 'It could still be the lead we have been hoping for.'
'Such a scant scrap, I am unsure it is worth anything. But I did think of something. Ko-rayen spent several turns learning empathic thought alignment, did he not?'
F
rowning in thought, Colnba searched his memory. 'He wanted Toormeena to ask him to court… and I believe she would have—' Colnba started, but Nisari took over as she remembered.
'But her mother wouldn't condone it, yes. The two concocted a scheme where Ko-rayen asked Toormeena for tutoring so they could be together and they practiced by reading each other's dreams… So he could read Leyhera's dreams. Where is Ko-rayen, right now? I have not seen him since… the day before yesterday.'
'Sal-Cirus. With Toormeena,' Colnba chuckled.
Raising her eyebrows with amusement, Nisari said, 'I should have guessed.'
Both grew sombre as they remembered why Toormeena needed guarding. Ever since an episode when Malithorn deemed Toormeena needed 'education', they had all been vigilant in ensuring the seer's safety. Colnba had also told Malithorn that all paths where Toormeena was mortally harmed by a human's hand would lead to Malithorn's death. Which was technically true, Nisari would kill him if he killed Toormeena.
'We should send for Ko-rayen, then. I can take his place and protect Toormeena.'
'That could be problematic…' Colnba gave her a sheepish look. 'I told Malithorn that Ko-rayen's location must be kept utterly secret and only Thane Curtin should know due to intelligence I gained that the rebels were going to attempt to extract Toormeena. I sold the idea that by preserving the element of surprise, thwarting the rebels might also lead to new rebel captives. It will make it difficult to justify a swap without arousing suspicions.'
This revelation made Nisari groan. 'And do not forget Liacoren. Malithorn always tells her where we are, and she always argues that an elvan mage is not necessary to protect Toormeena. So no matter what justification we come up with for needing him physically here, she will almost literally jump at the chance to reinforce her argument.'
