Trail of Pyres

by L. James Rice

  Solineus stared to the ridge, men parting the ranks. Three horses moseyed down the hill, unarmored was the first bit of good news, the second, Iro Adinfin rode the lead.

  The two guards reined their horses strides away, but the overseer rode up close and dismounted. He bowed. “My apologies, sirs, for meeting you again so soon.”

  Ivin said, “We had your word on two weeks, two months to move our people. We haven’t been back three days.”

  Iro’s head bobbed, “I’m aware, sadly so. I’ve no want to be here myself, but I owed you my personal words. I made a promise, I’m trying to stick to your two months. The bishop, I fear, has come to Sin Medor. There is no time to choose on the matter of our gods courting your people.”

  Solineus said, “You needed an army for this message?”

  “I am a cautious man, when I’ve the lives of preachers and missionaries at stake. And the bishop tells me to be cautious.” He grinned. “And one never knows the reception a man might receive when his word is broken for him.”

  Ivin glanced to Solineus and Polus and they stepped back several strides to whisper. Ivin asked, “Thoughts?”

  Polus said, “You trust this son a bitch a single flicker?”

  “Yes and no, he doesn’t want a war.”

  Solineus said, “It isn’t a matter of trust, it’s a matter of choices. They’d burn through our camp like it’s dried grass.”

  Ivin nodded. “We’re in agreement then?”

  Solineus put his hand to Ivin’s shoulder. “We need time to spread the word, we don’t want no accidents with these folks and their preachers. Words could turn red right quick when folks talk of faith and gods.”

  Polus grunted, kicked a tuft of grass. “I can’t speak for all the Broldun, but I don’t like a damned thing about this. Mmm, but, it’s rare a man likes the choice when there’s only one. We need time, and we need to stay living. And the Hidreng damned well knows it.”

  Ivin grimaced and sighed, and they turned back to Iro. “We need three days, to make sure our people know your offer. We don’t want any raw nerves inflamed, we don’t want anyone hurt.”

  The overseer’s face remained a blank, until his brow arched and he smiled, giving them a flamboyant bow with a wave of his arms. “I can delay for two days, not three, this is reasonable.” He lofted into his saddle with a nimble swing. “Reasonable, and the bishop will be here herself to meet with you, Choerkin. In three days.” The man’s horse took two steps backwards and spun before trotting up the hill.

  Iro planned to delay the bishop’s command, but only so long as she didn’t witness his slow-walking her orders. “This bishop must be a sweet soul to put the piss in his britches like that.”

  Solineus looked to Ivin. “Could’ve been worse. He might’ve said the crone wanted to marry you.”

  The Broldun laughed, but Ivin didn’t crack a grin.

  12

  Adopted into Blood

  Slapping leather brings a lather,

  a ladder brings a downward slide.

  Boots kicking, gloves Slapping,

  Suicides in a marcher’s rhythm Collide.

  –Tomes of the Touched

  Kinesee and Alu snuck from the tent wicks past dawn, carrying Tengkur so she didn’t wake Solineus. The Ravinrin’s set their breakfast table early, and the Lady Tedeu always saw to their sharing in eggs and sausage fit for clan blood, not just for the help.

  After munching their fill they made straight for the forge tents and Ilpen. The big man pretended to startle at their arrival, then dangled a treasure from his fingers. The silver of the chain was finer than Kinesee had ever seen, purchased from a woman of clan blood and repaired, but the setting was Ilpen’s and steel, so to never lose the pearl in its grasp.

  Kinesee gasped as she nabbed the prize from his grip and slipped it over her head. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She clung to his hip in a huge hug to avoid his belly.

  Ilpen laughed and pointed to the Ears team. “Not to befoul your mood, but that corral yonder could use cleaned today.”

  She smirked and did a little dance, caring not one wit for the price she’d pay. “I’ll brush them good, too.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  Kinesee held the setting for Alu to see.

  Alu mussed her hair. “It’s beautiful, sis. But I ain’t scooping donkey dung for you.”

  “I know that, sheesh.”

  “I’m gonna look over the swords again.”

  Her sister wandered into a tent, leaving Kinesee to her goat and pearl. She rubbed the goat between the horns. Swords and the smithy were fine, but after a while they bored Kinesee to getting herself in trouble. Trouble with men as muscled as these smiths wasn’t a good thing.

  She glanced around camp, Ilpen already at work on mending a cook pan, and yawned. She meandered to his side, digging her toe in the dirt. “Can I brush up the donkeys later? I wanna show the necklace to Solineus.”

  “Just don’t you be forgetting about them, you hear?” She smiled and bounded away, but his voice stopped her. “Best you leave that confounded goat here. If Solineus is at the Choerkin tent, you know what the Lady Ravinrin said.”

  One tiny accident, and the poor goat gets banished for life. Kinesee hung her head and drug her feet back to the stable, yanking Tengkur by a horn the last couple feet to stick her in with the donkeys. “She didn’t break that much.”

  “So I heard you say afore.” He peeked at her through a tiny hole in an old copper pan, tapped it on his forehead to make it ring.

  Kinesee rolled her eyes and giggled, forgiving the man for his reminder. “I’ll be back soon.” When she turned, she noticed dark shadows on the high ridge to the south. “What’s that?”

  The pan clattered on the anvil. “Nothing good, girl, I’m thinkin’ you best stay here.”

  If he’d told her to go there’d be a better shot of her staying. “I better find Solineus.” She trotted along the ridge until forced to detour for a gathering crowd who stood at a high point gazing south. She weaved through tents, getting herself confused for a few flickers, before she found her path back to the tent. She flipped the flap and yelled his name, but it was empty. She sighed and gave the situation a good think. The Choerkin tent, of course.

  It was a good bet she’d find Solineus there, but lots of folks seemed to think it a good place for answers. It took her a wick or two just to squeeze and squirm as far as the guards who barred the entrance with crossed spears. She convinced them, after no small amount of pestering and badgering, to tell Solineus of the Emudar she was here, but it was just in time for the flaps to open and clan blood to stomp and curse their way out of the tent. It was easy to slip her way in then.

  Roplin and Polus glared at each other when she arrived, and the Lady Ravinrin was in the middle of talking them down.

  “Gentlemen! This isn’t the time for airing grievances a decade old.”

  Solineus was the only one to notice her skulking at the edge of the tent. He strode to her and put a hand to her shoulder with a stern look on his face. He kneeled. “That goat isn’t with you, is it?”

  She rolled her eyes. “No. There are folks on the southern hill, and this!” She dangled the pearl so close to his eyes they crossed.

  He smiled but his gaze dominated her attention, they carried a weight, like when Papa used to have bad news. “The Hidreng have come, but don’t worry. They aren’t here for a fight.”

  “I know. I mean, I know they’re here.”

  “I want you to stay put, but stay quiet and out of the way. We’ve some details to hash out. Oh, and the pearl is beautiful.” He winked.

  She nodded, and he returned to the debate at the table. Roplin said, “The march to the Blooded Plain could take a month or more.”

  Tedeu Ravinrin stood, and the table came to a respectful silence. Kinesee smiled, recalling how gramma could do the same thing. “I thought hard on this since Tudwan brought initial word, and nothing you men have offered changes my mind.
The Hidreng have rushed things, no doubt their intent, but nothing else’s changed. The ships we have in harbor should leave soon as they’re able, before the Hidreng blockade the waters. Take children and their mothers first, sail for the Blooded Plain, this will lessen the temptations their priests will offer. The old and the least fit for a long journey, get as many out by boat as we may. Those hale should remain behind and march.”

  Silence ensued and Kinesee meandered to sit on a stool to watch.

  Polus gave everyone at the table a creepy scowl. “Most ships of worth are already east. How many souls can we move? It’d take weeks, months? Who travels first?”

  Ivin said, “A drawing for positions aboard ship. But I suggest those left behind wait. We sail back and forth so long as the waters are open, saving as many as we can the long walk.” He held a hand up to cut off Polus. “And, if a blockade arrives, or something feels amiss with the Hidreng, then we move on. As Polus noted, we can’t get all those we wish on a ship any time soon. Best to march with as few to slow us down as possible. We should give the six month promise a chance.”

  The jibber jabber went on and on until Kinesee wished to all the heavens her goat was here to break the tedium. She stared at her fingers as she sat in the corner, bored and pouting over Tengkur’s banishment. She only knocked over one table of food, a couple plates broke. It wasn’t the kerfuffle everybody made of it. Compared to a Hidreng army overlooking their camp, it seemed mighty minor to her.

  She sat still and quiet, determined to be a good girl, a mature girl, not the baby Alu always accused her of being. Her thirteenth birthday drew close, a special day for her and papa… but papa died. Birthdays didn’t seem to care much about those who’d moved on to the Road of Living Stars nor those left behind. Birthdays just kept on coming, and like her first after mama died, she knew this one would bring more pain than joy. Birthdays weren’t something to care about since they didn’t care about her, so she intended to ignore it, and hope it ignored her. But she would prove she was growing up, even if it meant being bored and not stirring up trouble.

  “Alu and Kinesee”—her ears perked at the sound of her name—“are special to me, my promise didn’t end when I left Kaludor.”

  Roplin said, “They’ll be safe here, with me.”

  Her heart thumped. Solineus is leaving? The conversation had her attention again. She shouldn’t be such a porridge head, she should’ve been paying attention.

  Solineus spoke under his breath, but she still made out his words. “If I don’t make it back? If you all should die but the girls live? They’d be orphans with no one.”

  Ivin drummed his fingers on the table, the map crinkling. “Scant little we can do about such things except to stay alive.”

  Tedeu looked at her, and Kinesee met the old woman’s gaze. The lady smiled. “How many Emudar have we in this camp? A hundred, two hundred? How many of clan-blood?”

  Solineus ended his pacing, leaned against a tent pole. “One.”

  “Why not three?”

  “I’m not following.”

  Tedeu blew steam from her tea. “How many know the truth of these girls? A handful, most are here, now? Claim them as your own daughters.”

  Kinesee’s eyes shot wide and she stared.

  Solineus grumbled. “I can’t replace Iku.”

  Kinesee sat horrified and numb.

  “No one can replace a child’s family, but if they’re Emudar blood? And if you make them wards of the Ravinrin while you’re gone? As my wards they’d gain protections from not only the Ravinrin, but through all our ties with the Seven Clans. So long as the clans breathe, they’d have an advantage, at the least. And if we find more Emudar, they’ll have kin to raise and look after them. Kin of a sort, anyhow.”

  “And if I have other children? A wife?”

  “They wouldn’t be the first children born from a man’s dalliances. But last I knew, you were single… quite the cad as I recall, though that was near a decade ago.” Solineus blushed and turned from the woman.

  Ivin said, “It makes sense. There’s no better protection we could lend.”

  Tedeu nodded and toasted him with tea. “You will sail to the Eleris with the Trelelunin woman, I and the girls will then travel to New Fost on the Blooded Plain. My people will be ready to depart within days. They’d be away from the army to safety.”

  Solineus grimaced, but nodded. “I reckon the notion has merit.”

  Kinesee couldn’t sit still no more, she leaped to her feet and screamed. “No, no, no! I don’t want a new papa!”

  “Kinesee,” said Solineus, “I’d never replace Iku, but I must keep you safe. This may be the way.” He walked to her, kneeled to look her in the eye while taking her hand.

  She panted, swallowed. Nervous, but regaining composure. “You can’t be my papa.” She loved him, how could she marry him when she grew into a woman if he was her papa?

  “You aren’t blind to the advantages, and I know you like the Lady Ravinrin. It’ll just be a game, not for real. Our own private joke.”

  Kinesee nodded. Of course she liked Lady Tedeu. The woman wasn’t anything like nobody she’d ever been around. She was a queen in the castles of her imagination, stiff-backed but kind, caring. She wanted to be safe, she never wanted to run, be hungry, or scared again. But she had a papa, and she had her hero. “Alu won’t do it. You can be my papa, but not for real. But Alu…”

  Solineus kissed her on the forehead and grinned. “You and me, we’ll talk Alu into playing our little game too.”

  Ivin said, “The plan still leaves us with a problem. With Lelishen taking Solineus to the Mother Wood, I’ll rely on the Hidreng speaking Silone. Do we have anyone else who speaks their tongue? Whom we trust?”

  Eyes cast about from one to another, then a voice came from the tent’s flap. Youthful and feminine. “I could be of use.”

  Kinesee hadn’t noticed when the girl entered. She was short with auburn hair, cute, and she’d seen her selling bread and apples around camp. But now she wore the robes of a priestess.

  Polus’ voice rang like an anvil. “Just who the hells are you?”

  “Meliu, priestess of Istinjoln.”

  Polus’ sword was half way from its sheath when Ivin placed a hand on the man’s arm.

  Ivin said, “A surprise to see you again.”

  Solineus said, “You’re a priestess.”

  “We all have our secrets, don’t we?” The girl smiled, and her cute became beautiful. Pangs of jealousy struck Kinesee’s heart. “I’ve five roosters outside for you, too.”

  Chicken. Jealousy turned to hungry, she knew Solineus would share.

  Ivin said, “I doubt you’re here for a delivery.”

  She strolled within a few paces of the table. “I’m here to help.”

  Polus snarled but slammed his sword into its sheath. “Mmm, Istinjoln has helped enough, I think.”

  “Your own kin had more hand in whatever happened than I did. I was on my way to the Fost before… And I’m fluent in Hidreng. Trust me when I say it’s handy to know what these shit eaters are saying behind your back.”

  Kinesee gasped, papa would be washing her mouth with brine. Tedeu glared. “Uncouth words from a lady and priestess.”

  Polus said, “First godsdamned words from her mouth I’ve liked.”

  Ivin eyed her up and down and sighed. “How do I know to trust you? You weren’t a friend to me when we parted.”

  She slung a haversack from her shoulder. “I delivered a book to Istinjoln, now I deliver it you.” She loosened the drawstring and pulled out a tome so huge it made Kinesee’s head swim just thinking about all the words inside.

  Ivin stood transfixed, took a deep breath. “The Codex of Sol.”

  Kinesee figured she was the only one unimpressed, and since no else wanted to talk, she figured she may as well get herself in trouble. “A book, so what? I can’t even read.”

  Solineus coughed and gave her a twisted grin that meant she wasn’t
in too much trouble.

  The Lady Ravinrin gave her a more serious stare. “You’ll remedy your reading problem as my ward.” She edged her gaze back to Meliu, but it remained barbed. “Everyone thought this collection destroyed centuries ago, but somehow they failed. You’ve read it?”

  The priestess shook her head. “No, and I won’t be able to for some time. It’s inked in the old tongue and written in ciphers. It’ll take time.”

  Ivin asked, “Then what good is it?”

  Kinesee snorted, how was that different from what she’d said?

  Meliu said, “I don’t know. The prophecies it contains brought on whatever the lord priest tried. You should burn it to ashes, except... Maybe it holds clues to what happened and what still might happen.”

  Polus sat and hefted his booted feet onto the table with a thud. “Mmm, burn it I say, and toast the flames with strong drink.”

  Meliu smiled and leaned on the table with both hands, staring down the big man. Kinesee grinned, maybe she liked this girl after all. “And if Ulrikt’s game is still being played? If the prophecies are still at work?”

  Polus coughed. “By the Mercies, we’d need more booze to make sense of it all. What are ya saying, girl? Mmm?”

  “Ivin knows damned well where this book last was, Istinjoln. How do you think it got her? Me. Ulrikt gave it to me to deliver to a high priest who never came for it.”

  Solineus said, “I’m not sure what this codex is, my memories…”

  Ivin said, “None of us do, just old stories. What else?”

  “He sent me from Istinjoln before the Eve of Snows, and with the book he gave me a sealed scroll, and told me to read it if no one came. It said to flee Kaludor.”

  Kinesee squinted at the adults in the room as their eyes flicked from one to another. The silence was driving her crazy. “What ain’t you people saying?”

  Solineus looked to her, his face a blank wall. “Lord Priest Ulrikt knew the Celestial Gate would fail and wanted this book safe.”

  Meliu said, “What you say might be true, we can’t be certain of would or could. But it’s possible.”