Chronicles Of Aronshae (3 Book Omnibus)

by J. K. Barber

  Returning from his inner thoughts, Jared glanced to the Master Swordswoman walking next to him. She seemed very much relaxed and at home. In fact, he had never seen the older woman so at ease. How is it that she is not totally distraught over the loss of her troops? He had seen her worry over the remaining men and women in her care, encouraging them that they would see their homes again, but there was a spring in her step that the hunter had never seen before. Thoughts of Mala’s footprints in their old camp turning from one of a human’s to a cat’s paw prints re-emerged, but the woodsman thought better of inquiring about it at this time. He figured he’d stirred the pot enough for one day. Jared caught Mala looking him up and down.

  “What?” the woodsman asked, his tone annoyed.

  “I am just wondering is all,” she smiled at him like he was the brunt of a good joke. Jared frowned. More seriously, she added with her smile fading, “What are your intentions with Sasha?”

  Jared had worked on his answer to this question while dressing in Sasha’s tent. He had expected it and quite a bit sooner; Mistress Mala was gracious enough to give him some time to calm down from the initial embarrassment of being caught with Sasha. The woodsman hoped her sympathetic demeanor was not just her holding in her wrath to explode upon him in anger later when they were in private. They walked a few more steps before he responded, making sure he worded it right; a “wrong” or an untruthful answer might provoke her to violence.

  “I care for her very much, but I am not ready to marry her,” the woodsman paused in his sentence, waiting for Mala to respond crossly. When she did not, he continued, “I intend to be loyal to her as long as she will have me. I will bring her no shame. You have my word.”

  “I will hold you to that promise, my friend,” she said, smiling a little too sweetly. “By the way, you can thank me later for not letting Katya check on Sasha this morning.” Jared cocked his head to the side at the Master Swordswoman, mildly confused. Seeing she would need to elaborate, Mala continued, “I noticed your bedroll was untouched this morning. To maintain the secret of the Nhyme’s existence and to allow Chyla to rest, it is the sorceress that is now attending to the wounds of our remaining men and the few therianthropes injured in our rescue. She was too busy to notice your absence and more than willing to let me check on Sasha in her stead.” Mistress Mala paused for a moment, pondering something Jared could not fathom, “I will not tell Katya about your new intimate relationship with her sister. That, you and Sasha must do alone.” They had arrived at the main tent, so no more words could be exchanged on the topic. Jared simply nodded before opening the tent flap for the older woman.

  Mistress Mala and Jared entered and moved toward the center of the main tent. They passed by several alcoves partitioned off from the core of the building, a couple of which housed Jared’s bedroll, their few belongings, and what was left of their band of men. Each alcove was separated by a curtain of roughly woven burlap and slept six. All the curtains were brightly decorated with rustic pictures of various animals, painted on with dyes and pastes. They were currently tied back and the rooms seemingly empty. Chieftain Hridayesh sat on a large chair of animal bone in the middle of a crowd that was seated on pillows made of animal skins that were arranged neatly in front him. He was a large man in his middle years. His hair was shaven completely save for two long black and grey braids over his ears, showing a plethora of deeply tanned skin on his mostly bare scalp. He wore a bear skin coat, parted in the front to reveal a smooth barreled chest. His eyes were so brown they appeared black. These same eyes settled on Mala as soon as she entered the tent. The Chief’s gaze was steady and intense. To Jared’s surprise a grin parted Hridayesh’s serious lips when the Master Swordswoman came to a stop before those gathered. The group consisted of her ten remaining soldiers, minus Sasha. Then there was Katya, looking sagely on her pillow with dual ravens on her shoulders, and a handful of therianthropes. The woodsman was fascinated by the shape shifters; their attire consisted of furs and skins befitting the cold weather, but each was amazingly unsoiled like an animal that cleans itself regularly. Jared would have thought a barbaric tribe such as this might be filthy like the orcs. However, free of dirt, each individual’s attributes were plainly seen and quite good-looking. One woman, he had seen as a white fox earlier, had waist-length brown hair that looked much like her tail had appeared, soft and luxurious. Overall, they looked like normal people he’d see in Illyander, just dressed differently. Mistress Mala bowed her head to Hridayesh and waited for him to acknowledge her. Chieftain Hridayesh nodded and struck a staff, decorated with white feathers and beads made of bone, on the hide-covered floor. It rattled eerily, being the only sound in the room.

  “We are gathered,” the Chief’s voice rumbled from deep within his chest, sounding like a storm gathering strength. His excellent pronunciation and use of the Illyander language was impressive, living so far north of the Kingdom. “Speak, Mala, sister therianthrope and War Mistress of Illyander. State your purpose in this place for all to understand.” Jared, still at Mala’s side, was visibly taken aback at the Chief’s reference to the older woman as a therianthrope. The woodsman’s eyes narrowed as past occurrences and certain bestial responses from the woman started to add up in his head. Katya appeared betrayed, but Mala’s men didn’t act surprised. Mistress Mala ignored Jared and Katya’s startled looks and maintained her formal air.

  “Chieftain Hridayesh, leader of the therianthrope people who rescued me and my men from certain doom. First of all, you have our thanks a thousand times over. We owe you our lives. What would you ask of us in return?” The King’s men shuffled nervously, knowing that Mala spoke true but not liking where her question could lead; no one wanted to become indentured to a strange people in the middle of nowhere. The Chief responded immediately, opening his free hand palm open and towards those gathered as he spoke.

  “You are free to do as you will. My people and this village expect nothing in return.” There was an audible sigh from one of Mala’s men. The Master Swordswoman shot him a swift hot look, and he lowered his head, his demeanor immediately acquiescent. The Chief continued, “Any enemy of the ice orc tribes is an ally to us, and we freely aid such friends. It could have been our village they attacked had they not happened upon your trail. You are truly blessed by the Mother for your raven to find its way to us. When She sends such a sign, we must follow.” The Chieftain and his present villagers raised their left hands palm inwards above their foreheads and then lowered them in an arc like a crescent moon down to their hearts, where their palms came to rest and closed into fists. “You are welcome to stay,” he lingered on the word “stay” his focus directly on Mistress Mala. “Heal your wounds and be at peace.” The large man paused a moment before saying, “Now that you have heard me, what do you plan to do next?”

  Mala bowed her head again to the Chief, truly touched at his generosity. She replied, “You are a most gracious host, mighty warrior. We will stay another day or two perhaps until our wounds are mostly healed and are all able to travel. We must complete our mission.”

  “Tell me of this mission,” Chieftain Hridayesh inquired, leaning forward with interest, his left hand now on his thigh and his right still holding his staff.

  Mala took a deep breath, as if inwardly deciding upon a course of action. She decided to trust the therianthropes. “We seek the Empress of Ice’s Glacial Palace to destroy it. It is she who gathers the ice orcs to her side and invades our homeland. She has dug in deep at the border town called Snowhaven to mount her attack further into the Kingdom of Illyander. Our intention is to capture her home in her absence and therefore cut off her retreat when our main force attacks from the south.”

  “We know of whom you speak and where she dwells.” Now it was Katya that leaned forward, her eyes brightening and her attention captured. They knew where the Ice Queen’s palace was located, fortuitous news indeed. Hridayesh continued, “For the most part, she leaves us alone and we her. There have been times when one of
our people turns up missing, never to be seen again. We are angered by this and suspect her hand in it, but we have no direct evidence that she is the reason our people disappear. I fear a direct assault on her may fully provoke her wrath, so I do admit that your mission troubles me.” The Chief sat back in his chair, deep in thought. Mala looked about nervously for the first time, worried that the he might change his mind about his earlier decision to let them go free. “However, it is my belief that fear is to be embraced. Still it is always wise to be cautious…,” the Chieftain paused, distracted by his internal struggle. “You say that the orcs invade your Illyander, yes?”

  “Indeed, noble Chief,” Mala replied, her heart pounding rapidly.

  “The Empress of Ice is a blight upon your land as well as ours then,” he continued, speaking his somewhat disjointed thoughts aloud. “Her power will only swell if she succeeds in her invasion. Your numbers are too much weakened to accomplish your mission now though.” The therianthrope leader thought a bit more, and then looked to his people, meeting their gazes one by one. “We must aid these Illyanders,” he stated. Mala gasped, never dreaming they would offer to help. “The Ice Queen seeks too much power. She must be reined in. The fact that one of our own, long lost, falls into our hands with such news is our sign to act. Elders and honorable ones, raise your voices if you agree to such a task.” Every single therianthrope in the room, young and old, let forth a loud tribal yip, joining their voices as one. The Illyanders could plainly see that the therianthropes were a proud people, hardened by their harsh environment. Survival also kept them in a constant battle with the Frozen March and the ice orcs, keeping their fighting senses keen.

  The Chief nodded his head and struck his staff upon the ground, “It is agreed and therefore decided. We’ll show you to the Heart of Ice and fight by your side to get you in, but it must be you that penetrates her inner fortress. My people’s hand in this must be kept minimal, not because we fear her but to be cautious for the sake of our families and homes.” Chieftain Hridayesh stood, straightening his spine to his full height, and let forth a roar that belonged to no man but that of a large bear. All assembled felt the power and authority in the sound and knew there would be no arguing the Chief’s decision. “Two mornings from now we depart. Erinyaia,” the large man looked to the attractive female Jared noticed earlier with the long chestnut brown hair. “Gather fifty of our strongest to replenish our sister’s ranks. That will leave plenty still to defend our home from any orc attack.” He rapped his staff twice more, and the assembled therianthropes stood and began to depart. Mala and Jared stood aside as the Chieftain strode towards them to exit the tent. Hridayesh hesitated by Mala and grasped her arm gently.

  “You are no longer alone, my friend. I’ll see you and yours to the walls personally. Be at peace until then.” Jared actually saw tears well in Mistress Mala’s eyes. She simply nodded, fearing her voice would crack with emotion. The Chief squeezed her arm once more, nodding respectfully to Jared and the rest of Mala’s people before departing.

  As soon as the last of the therianthropes had exited the tent, Mala’s shoulders slumped, all her earlier good humor gone. A veteran soldier by the name of Johnson rose and strode forward and placed a steadying hand on her pauldron. The man had often reminded Jared of Talas in his caring demeanor and vibrant faith.

  “This is encouraging news, Mistress. The Great Mother watches over us. The Chief spoke of signs. Let this change of events be a sign of our own that our mission is not lost,” Johnson said. Mala smiled at him appreciatively but it was not the news that sapped her spirits now. It was that Jared and Katya now knew her true nature. She had kept her secret from them for so long, the twins their entire lives, but recent events had left her no choice but to use her talents in an attempt to save them.

  Two therianthropes entered the tent, each carrying a large wooden platter piled generously with dried meats and wild berries. A third entered with a large water sack slung to his back and in his hands another platter with wooden cups on it. Mala patted Johnson on the back.

  “Yes, this is good news,” the elder swordswoman said to the older man, then addressed the rest of her men. “Enjoy your breakfast and rest. You will need it for the battle to come.” Mala turned her attention to Jared and then to Katya in turn. “Get some food and let’s go to Sasha’s tent. I want to talk… I’d like you three to hear me out please,” she spoke authoritatively at first but then with more care. They nodded and gathered food and drink to take with them.

  No one spoke on the trek back up the small hill to Sasha’s tent. It wasn’t long before they were brushing aside the bear skin flap and settling inside. Jared shared a quick private smile with Sasha, as she roused from sleep, and they sat together. He started to give the redhead a portion of his meal, but immediately stopped when Katya gave her sister a portion of hers. Sasha whispered to Katya a word of thanks but then focused on the woodsman after the sorceress turned her attention to her own meal. Jared nodded, knowing that she was thanking him anyway, and handed his berries to Chyla and Niko who, changing into their Nhyme forms, took the food with thanks. The six friends ate in silence until all had eaten their fill. All eyes were nervously on Mala. Noticing their gaze, she cleared her voice, realizing it was time for her to talk.

  “My friends, I must first apologize,” the elder woman spoke her voice raw and choked with emotion. “I am sorry I kept it from you that I am a therianthrope. I have chided you all at some point for keeping secrets, when I too have done so. It was hypocritical of me. I should have told you sooner. I humbly apologize and ask for your forgiveness.” Jared’s eyes were wide. The woman before him had always been haughty and commanding. It was so odd to see her in this new light, so vulnerable. Mistress Mala even looked smaller with her usual boldness so muted. As irritated as he was at her, he couldn’t help but feel sympathetic to such a secret so akin to his own. The twins exchanged looks, their brows knitted oddly with a mixture of worry and resentment. The Nhyme remained watchful, Mala’s news not really such a shock to them since they were not as close to the Master Swordswoman. The woodsman was surprised to hear Katya speak first after it was clear Mala would not say more; he hadn’t heard one word from the sorceress since their escape from the orc camp.

  “I think what Sasha and I would like to know mostly is why?” the sorceress said, with the practiced calm of a scholar. “You have said you love us as if we were your own daughters. Why keep this from us?”

  Mala took a deep breath. “There are two reasons. One is out of fear…”

  “Fear?” Sasha asked her voice heated with passion. “I don’t understand.”

  “Let me finish please,” Mala responded, her tone irritated but in control of her temper. “When I was a girl, my parents beat me, often horribly, when certain features of my snow leopard aspect began to change my body randomly. It began after my first moon’s blood, and I had no control over it in the beginning. My parents were afraid and thought me possessed. In their ignorance they believed they could beat what they thought was evil out of me. They were very superstitious. I… I did something horrible to one of them one day in an attempt to defend myself, so bad that I fled, never to see them again. I became lost in the wilderness. Dara, your mother, found me half frozen to death while she was on a missive delivery for the Administrator. In her kindness, she took me in. Only Administrator Tomas and your mother knew about my past, and they accepted me. I was no monster in their minds, just granted a gift from the Great Mother so they said.”

  Katya and Sasha’s eyes widened, and Jared could visibly see them working the connections out in their heads.