The Star Of Saree (GODS OF THE FOREVER SEA Book 3)

by A. J. STRICKLER

  “Aye, Serban will torture them for Constantine’s location then he will hang them,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck.

  Turning back to Kian, she found he was breaking the news of the woman’s death to the two girls. Their tears reflected the fire’s soft light. She waited a few moments before interrupting the unhappy exchange. “I need to speak with you, Kian.”

  He looked tired for the first time since she had met him. Kissing each girl lightly on the head, the swordsman took her by the arm and led her away from the grieving girls. “I heard what Eugen said, Katrina, and I know what you want,” he whispered. “I told you I can’t get mixed up in your fight.”

  The indifference in his voice angered her. “We didn’t have to help you when you needed us but we did. Three men died for your cause. Now you say you won’t help us?”

  “I didn’t need you or your men, I told you that,” he said, his tone harsh and low. “I have these children to see to. From what they said, their mother is somewhere in Trimenia. I must find her and tell her what has happened, and break the word to a friend that his woman is dead.”

  “I understand, I do, but I need you now. If they get Vladimir and the others back to Brova, it will be too late. Rescuing prisoners from the Church is one thing. If we try to free them after the baron has them, you will have to fight an army. We can’t delay.”

  “I’m sure you can find men to aid you,” he said

  “By the time I gather enough to take on a company of mercenaries, it will be too late. I don’t have the time; you are all I have. I saw what you did in the city; I know together we can free them. Please, Kian, you must help me.” She hated to beg, but Vladimir was too important to the rebellion to be lost, and he was a friend.

  Sighing, Kian shook his head. “What of the children, Katrina? Are we to take them with us when we go up against the mercenaries? Are you going to feed them and change their wraps while you pull your companions out of the fire?”

  The thought hadn’t occurred to her that they had a nursery to deal with. “Eugen, can you get this lot to Halina’s?”

  The smith shrugged. “I could try, but we should leave as soon as we can. It will take at least two days to get there in the wagon, and when the sun comes up, soldiers from the city will come looking and this time, they will bring enough soldiers to kill you, Kian.”

  It was clear the swordsman didn’t like the idea, but she had struck at his honor. How could he refuse?”

  “This place you are taking them, will they be safe there?”

  Katrina put her hands on her hips. “Safer than you trying to get them out of Trimenia on your own right now. It is a better idea, Kian. Leave them in hiding till things die down. Then you can slip away with no trouble. Halina hid many of us after our failed attack on Brova. None were ever found that were in her care. I give you my word they will be in no danger there.”

  Kian began to pace, no doubt thinking on what she had said. There was little choice but to lie if she was going to get him to abandon his charges. The truth was she didn’t know how safe the children would be with Halina. Some of the rebels had hidden there after the battle, but that had only been for a couple of days. She and Kian would be gone far longer than that.

  “No, I will not leave till I am sure that we are not being followed by anyone from the city. When we have them at this Halina’s, then I will go with you. Not before.”

  Swallowing hard, she nodded. The last thing she wanted was to anger the swordsman. “I guess that will have to do.” She shrugged. “We must leave now before the sun rises. The faster we get them to the farmstead the faster we can go after Vladimir and the others.”

  Eugen and Kian wrapped the dead woman’s body in a canvas tarp the blacksmith kept under his wagon seat to keep the rain off, then they loaded up. Kian sat in the back with the children, and Katrina pulled herself up beside Eugen. It was too dark to see much, but she trusted Eugen’s sense of direction. Kian had been right; she wasn’t sure if she wanted his help. He frightened her and that was a feeling she wasn’t used to or comfortable with, but her misgivings would have to be put aside. Freeing Vladimir was what was vital now. Focusing on that would see her though. Then she could take her leave of the dangerous man in the back of the wagon, and his strange brood. The rebellion was the important thing. She had wasted enough time with Kian. He wasn’t the man they needed; in fact, it would be better if he just left Trimenia all together. He was far too dangerous and unpredictable to truly be of any advantage to the rebellion. He had saved her and her mother, but the swordsman was not Trimenia’s savior, and he wasn’t the hero she once believed him to be.

  * * *

  The wagon swayed back and forth in the dark every once and awhile when Eugen would hit a rut or hole and the impact would bounce the children, waking them. The babes would cry a bit, which hurt Kian’s ears. Tempest’s eyes were heavy, but the girl forced herself to stay awake, trying to keep the little ones as quiet as possible. She was a strong and compassionate young woman, taking over the infants’ care without even being asked. It was difficult with nothing to give them but water. Tempest had chewed some dried beef into mush to ease the babies’ hunger, though she fared poorly in the attempt.

  Eugen said this Halina’s farm was only two days away. Kian knew well that any forces sent from the Church or the city would catch up to them long before they reached their destination. The wagon would leave an easy trail to follow. There was little chance they would arrive without trouble.

  His brows furrowed as he rubbed at the pain in his chest. There was a tightness there that grew worse by the day. He assumed the strange discomfort was why he had been much more irritable than normal. Katrina’s zealousness for her rebellion had gotten under his skin, and in the city, he had slain the unarmed citizens without thought or mercy. The feeling was different from the animal inside him, or the darkness that often invaded his mind. This was something else. He was stronger and even faster than before, but something was terribly wrong. It was like a sickness twisting though his body. Rhys would know what to do, and he hoped the healer was in Trimenia with Endra and the others; it would ease his mind greatly.

  Sabra and Brigitte were curled up, each using his leg for a pillow. Tiresias had slumped up against him, exhausted by the last few days’ rigorous travel. He loved them, but how would he ever care for them? Gildor’s old home where he had spent so many years was where he thought to take them. It would be hard for anyone to find them there.

  The valley was a beautiful place, and possessed all the resources they would ever need. He had even considered staying with them for a while, at least till they got settled. He had intended to take Tempest and Tiresias, now he thought why not all of them? When he found Endra, he would ask her. Perhaps she would even want to go with them. Riding with K’xarr and the Sons was no place for her children. He needed to convince her of that.

  He didn’t want to think about the woman he loved. Endra had a child since he had left her, by the looks of it at least eight or nine months ago. He knew the women that carried the blood often gave birth in a much shorter time than other mothers. He supposed it could be his, though it didn’t resemble him at all.

  Brigitte had said Endra didn’t like the child, which was strange. Unless the infant wasn’t his. If that was the truth, then something must have happened while they were in Masaria, maybe even while she was Milara’s prisoner.

  Endra’s beauty was so vast that it was sometimes a curse. If someone had hurt her, he would see them dead, even if he had to kill every priest in Tyro.

  Head pounding, he tried to sleep, but the ache between his eyes was too great and the first rays of dawn were already lighting up the sky. The heavy clouds above them had begun to spit snow, and a cold breeze knifed through the air. Winter would be on Trimenia in the next week or two. He had been told the season here was harsh and bitter. The children would need to get to shelter soon. Kian was bothered little by the cold, though he didn’t think the children shared t
he same luxury.

  As it got brighter, he could see that they moved through the open fields of Trimenia. Looking behind them, he saw only empty land. At the first sign of pursuit, he would leave them and try to hold back whatever number of men had been sent against them.

  Yawning, he shook his head. Seldom did he know fatigue, so it was strange to be weary. Closing his eyes, he drifted off to sleep, his dreams filled with the freedom of the open sky.

  * * *

  Rubbing her eyes, Tiresias found herself in a small wood. Eugen, the nice man who had given her the honeycakes, must have gotten tired. He slept now, snoring loudly from the driver’s seat. Katrina had dozed off too; she had slumped over, her arm dangling off the wagon’s seat. Even Kian slumbered; it was the first time Tiresias had ever seen his golden eyes closed. Burying the dead lady must have worn them all out, she thought. She glanced over at the fresh pile of rocks and dirt where the woman had been laid to rest. Tiresias believed it must be very cold and dark down in the ground.

  Tiptoeing to the edge of the wagon, the little blonde girl hopped down without a sound and walked a good distance away from the little band. Hiking up her dress, she squatted down and relived herself. Steam rose from the warm urine in the cold morning air. She wrinkled her nose at the smell and turned to go back to the wagon. Sucking in a breath, she froze as she came face to face with a beautiful butterfly fluttering just in front of her nose. Pushing back her tangled hair and smiling, she reached out to grab it, but it flew back just out of reach. It was golden and had silver spots. It was the most beautiful thing Tiresias had ever seen.

  It floated right before her eyes as if beckoning her to catch it. Gritting her teeth, she set out to capture the shiny thing. Tempest would be so surprised if she could bring it back, maybe even Kian would smile at its beauty.

  She kept her eyes fixed on the tiny thing as it drifted above her head. Tripping and stumbling, Tiresias followed it deeper into the wood. Her entire being focused on the pretty insect. Swooping low, the butterfly flew around a rise with a large leafless tree jutting out from the small hill. Losing sight of it, she ran as fast as her small legs would carry her.

  “Well, hello.”

  Tiresias stopped cold as she entered a gully on the other side of the mound. A man sat on one of the big tree’s exposed roots. Dressed in a hooded robe, its open front revealed a suit of leather clothing like Kian wore. Tiresias could see many small knifes strapped across the man’s chest, and array of strange things hanging from the wide belt strapped around his waist.

  The butterfly sat on the man’s finger, slowly moving its wings up and down.

  “Hi,” she said timidly, not taking her eyes from the rhythmic movement of the butterfly’s wings.

  “Would you like to have him?” the man asked, holding up the hand it sat on. Tiresias held out her chubby finger and the butterfly flutter over and landed on it. She giggled at the way its tiny feet felt on her skin.

  “What is you name?” the hooded man asked, his voice pleasant and friendly.

  “Tiresias.”

  “That is a wonderful name. Perhaps the best one I have ever heard.”

  She tried to peer into the hood, but could see little of his face, only noticing that his skin looked funny and his eyes made her feel peculiar.

  “Tell me, sweet child, are you traveling with Kian Cardan?”

  “Oh yes, do you know him?” she asked, excitement rising in her voice.

  “Yes, I do. We are very close.”

  “He is my father now,” she said, delighted the man knew Kian. Tiresias felt much safer; no friend of Kian’s would hurt her.

  “Kian is your father? Well, before long, he will have claimed enough children to populate a small city.”

  Tiresias stroked the butterfly, grinning at how wonderfully soft it was and losing interest in what the man was saying.

  “Can you tell me where you’re going, Tiresias?”

  “Someone’s farm. I don’t remember the lady’s name, though. Kian said it wasn’t far. Then Kian is going to go save Katrina’s friends.”

  The man put his hands on his knees and thought for a moment. “Is one of this Katrina’s friends Princess Pepca?”

  “I don’t know, maybe, I think they said that name. Whoever it is, Kian will free them just like he did me and Tempest.”

  The man laughed. She didn’t really like the sound of his laugh, it gave her goose pimples.

  “That is something I truly wish to see. Kian may be in for a surprise when he finds who has the young princess.”

  Tiresias didn’t think the man was really talking to her anymore. “Can I keep the butterfly?”

  “Of course you can, but he won’t last for long, I am afraid. Soon he will return to whence he came.”

  The girl frowned, not liking his answer.

  “Tiresias, would you mind if I walked back with you?”

  “I am not sure which way to go,” she said, glancing around.

  “I am sure we can find it together,” the man said confidently.

  He took her by the hand, leading her more than she did him back through the cold wood.

  The others were all still sleeping when they returned to the wagon. “Tiresias, can you keep very quiet for just a moment?” he whispered.

  She nodded feverishly. Raising a hand, the man started muttering to himself. Silently, he walked around the wagon, tracing his finger along its edge and carefully making sure it never lost contact with the wood. When he finished, he did the same thing to the horse.

  Kneeling in front of her, he tousled her dirty hair and whispered in her ear, “The bad men chasing you won’t be able to see you now if you stay inside the wagon. You must tell the others not to get out till you reach your destination. Can you do that?”

  “Yes, I can do that,” Tiresias said with a touch of pride.

  “Now you will be very safe, my dear. When you tell Kian about all this, he might be a little angry that we spoke, but he will get over it. Now, dear Tiresias, I must go. Enjoy your butterfly for as long as he lasts. I look forward to meeting you again.”

  “Thank you so much…” she said, glancing up from the butterfly, but the man was gone.

  She sat down against a tree and stroked her butterfly till she heard the others begin to stir. Quickly, she jumped up to show everyone what she had found, but the butterfly had vanished as she rose. In its place, a gold and silver coin lay in the palm of her small hand.

  * * *

  Captain Cozmin Groza led seventy of Trimenia’s finest cavalry through the gates of Brova at first light, determined to recapture the renegades. The threat of snow was in the air and the day felt frosty.

  Now, steam rolled from their mounts’ noses as they closed in on their prey. The cold had never bothered him much. His father had been a hunter and had taught his son how to deal with Trimenia’s cruel winters. He had also trained Cozmin how to track his quarry.

  It had been difficult at first to follow the fugitive’s tracks from the city. It had taken half the day to find the old barn where they had stayed the night before. They had fled from there in a wagon, and even without his tracking skills, their route was easy to follow. He would soon have them.

  Cozmin was glad he had been chosen to lead one of the patrols sent out to find the murderous thing that had killed so many in yesterday’s battle. He knew he had more than enough men to kill the swordsman, regardless of what he had been told by those that had witnessed the fight, unless the man had a large rebel force hidden somewhere ahead.

  Katrina Dobrescu had been spotted helping the animal free the archbishop’s prisoners, so there was a good chance he could run into some of those rebellious bastards south of the city. He would have to be prudent. There was no sense leading his men into a rebel trap because he was careless.

  Lech was beside himself. Cozmin had witnessed the fit the holy man had thrown at the loss of his captives. The archbishop had even gone to the palace to complain to the king. It wouldn’t go very
well for him if he couldn’t exact some revenge for the archbishop, but if he was successful, there may be a promotion for him if the king took notice of the deed. His only concern was riding into a rebel ambush. Other than that, Cozmin had no worry that he would complete his task.

  His lieutenant caught his attention and pointed ahead. A man stood in the open field with his fists on his hips. He didn’t match the description he was given of the murderer he was after, but he turned the patrol. Slowing his mount, he got a better look at the man as his horse cantered nearer to him.

  The stranger’s face was hidden inside a hood but his open robe revealed a great deal. Dressed in leather armor, the man wore two shortswords at his sides. A brace of daggers was strapped across his chest and an odd array of baubles hung from his belt. Clearly, this was no simple farmer or woodsman, most likely a rebel in league with the renegades he was searching for. Stopping a good twenty feet from the lone figure, the captain signaled his column to halt. Leaning forward in his saddle, Cozmin appraised the man. He thought it sensible to keep a good distance in case the bastard was foolish enough to try and hurl one of those daggers at him or his men.

  “Hello, General,” the man called out arrogantly.

  “It’s captain, Captain Cozmin Groza of the king’s own. I will have your name now.”

  “I am no one of importance, just a mad sorcerer out to do despicable deeds.”

  The captain leaned back in his saddle with a disapproving grin, though some of his men chuckled at the man’s jest. He was obviously a lunatic or just a simpleton trying to be funny. “Very amusing, but you may find you’re in a bit of trouble.”

  The man held his arms wide. “Unfortunately, I find that is often my circumstance.”

  This fool was starting to get on his nerves; he would have the cur dragged back to Brova behind a horse when he was finished with him. “I am looking for the half-breed that attacked the church in Brova and freed some condemned prisoners yesterday. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”