EMBRACE OF MEMORY

by Vicki McElfresh

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  Chapter Twenty-One

  Moonlight streamed through the window, bathing Mirayla's bedroom in soft light. Cree opened his eyes. He was still clothed, though Mirayla lay next to him, one arm thrown lazily over his waist. His head no longer ached, but his tongue felt swollen and his mouth dry. He eased her arm away and slipped from the bed. Gazing on her form, he smiled and sighed. "I love you, Mirayla, but I have to go back to Lishal Tor. I'm sorry." Moving quietly so as not to wake her, he left the room.

  He leaned against the closed door to collect his thoughts. He needed food, enough for a week's travel. That meant finding the kitchen. I know where the dining hall is, and the food has to come from somewhere. The halls of the keep were empty. He stopped outside the door to the dining hall. Faint noises came from inside, and he thought he saw a thin trickle of light from under the door. Cautiously, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. A dim lamp burned on the table nearest the door. A lone figure sat hunched over a plate of food and bottle of wine. Cree cleared his throat.

  "Mac Torol, what are you doing here?"

  Cree sat down across from the blacksmith. "I could ask you the same question. Although..." he eyed Benjamin's plate of turkey, cheese, and bread, "...I think it's pretty obvious."

  "I was hungry, so I found a snack."

  "A snack? That looks more like supper!" Cree managed a grin and wished he could find a way out of the blacksmith's sight.

  Benjamin swallowed and grinned. "You never answered my question. What are you doing here? I hope you've given up on the ridiculous idea you had earlier." He rubbed greasy hands on his pants and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

  "Ridiculous idea?"

  "Going back to Lishal Tor." Cree's only answer was silence. "You haven't?" The turkey leg fell from the blacksmith's hand and landed on his plate with a dull thud.

  Cree winced and shook his head. "I have to go back."

  "You don't have to do anything, Mac Torol." Benjamin grabbed the wine bottle and raised it to his lips. "In fact, you shouldn't do anything." He offered the bottle to Cree, who took it with numb fingers.

  He stared at the plain amber bottle before lifting it to his lips and taking a swallow. "No, I have to go back."

  "Why? What are you going to do that an army couldn't?"

  Cree turned the bottle over in his hands and took another sip. "Rescue my father."

  Benjamin yanked the bottle away. "Rescue? He's under house arrest, not chained away."

  "How do you know? I know Sarana, and no matter how loyal he might have been to Father, he's far more loyal to Ka-shal Tiroth. You heard him earlier; he thinks he is Ka-shal Tiroth." He reached for the wine again, but Benjamin moved it out of his grasp with deft twist of his wrist.

  "You might be wrong."

  Cree sighed. "I'm not. I know what kind of cruelty he's capable of. I've seen it. I've do--" He tried to force the words out but could not. "Father's locked in a cell below Torol House, a cell I'm not even sure he knew existed. No, Benjamin, I have to go. I'm the only one who will be able to find him."

  "You aren't responsible."

  Cree held his head in his hands. "But I am. If I had never left the Southland, none of this would have happened."

  "If you had never left the Southland, you wouldn't have found Mirayla, and you would still be locked in a maze of memories. You needed help, and you've gotten it. I can see the change in you. A month ago, you would have run back to the Southland instead of going after your father. But you don't have to do this. Tell Clanda where you think he is. I'm sure--"

  "I can't. They'd never find him even with my help. The chambers below the house are all keyed to Sarana. They require a magical word to open. I'm not sure I remember most of them. I have to go. I'm the only one who can."

  Benjamin's eyes narrowed. "How do you know all this?"

  Cree reached for the wine bottle, but the blacksmith jerked it away. He sighed. "Sarana used to take me down there. He conducted experiments without Father knowing, or anyone else, except his victims." For a moment, he sat in silence, uncertain how to phrase his next words. He had not been able to tell Mirayla, and he was not sure how to tell Benjamin. "I was--" He closed his eyes, once again seeing the dark corridors, rancid with the stench of stale urine and blood. "I was to be his assistant, he told me the first time. I worshipped him then. I was only ten. He took me in a room. There were candles everywhere. He took out a pouch, drew a design on the floor, and ordered me to stand inside it." A lone tear leaked from his eyes and splashed on his hand.

  Benjamin pushed the bottle into his hand. "Here. You don't have to tell me any more."

  Cree took a long drink, letting the wine burn away his pain. "But I do." He met the blacksmith's eyes. "I tried to tell Mirayla, but I couldn't."

  Sighing, Benjamin took the bottle from Cree's limp fingers. "Then give me that back. I think I need a drink, too."

  With a grimace, Cree continued. "Sarana slashed both my wrists, bound them with rope and tied the rope to a ring in the floor."

  Benjamin swallowed more wine and grimaced. "I've heard enough. What does that have to do with your father?"

  "My father is in one of those chambers."

  "You don't know that for certain."

  Cree licked his lips. "No, not for certain."

  "Then you shouldn't go back. You'll only be killed, and what would that do to Mirayla or Cali or--"

  "No, I have to go." He started to rise, but the blacksmith grabbed his arm. "I am going."

  "Wait."

  He wrenched his arm away. "I can't. I'm leaving, now, tonight."

  Benjamin drained the last of the wine. "Then I'm going with you."

  "And so am I." Mirayla stepped into the pale circle of light.

  Cree's mouth dropped open. "Mirayla? You can't. You'll--"

  "I can, and I am. If I can't convince you to stay here, at least I can do my best to keep you alive."

  He glanced from Benjamin to Mirayla. "But--"

  "We're coming, Mac Torol, and if we're leaving, we'd best be getting ourselves together. If you get our horses ready, Mirayla and I will finish getting the packs together."

  Cree swallowed hard. "Finish?"

  She grinned. "I knew you'd try something like this, and I knew I probably wouldn't change your mind about staying."

  "Oh." A slow smile spread across Cree's face. "We'd best get moving then."

  ~*~

  They stole away while the moon was still high in the sky and slipped through the South Gate, unnoticed. Mirayla gestured for Cree and Benjamin to huddle. "There's a path through the woods that can take us back to the main road. If we lead the horses, what's left of the grass will hide our progress a little. This gate isn't watched as much." She pointed to a lookout on the keep. "There's a guard there at all times. We'll just have to hope he isn't looking our way."

  Cree brushed a bit of hair out of his eyes. "Lead the way, then."

  She smiled and moved into the thick grass. He and Benjamin followed in single file, smothering curses as the sharp blades of grass cut at exposed hands or the horses stumbled in hidden holes. The sheltering trees were only twenty paces away. Cree sighed. Fifteen, and still no alarms rang. Ten, he closed his eyes and smiled. Shelter was only a heartbeat away. Five, four, three, he risked a look backwards. The field was empty. Socorrow's Rest loomed in the distance, and the trees were only a few steps away. He smiled. They were safe. The trees folded them in sweet shadows, hiding them from eyes, both good and evil. "How far to the road?"

  Mirayla swung up into her saddle. "A very short ride. Just over the hill and a little ways beyond. Are we traveling at night or day?"

  Benjamin snorted and his armor creaked as he climbed into the saddle. "Night, of course. Only darkness will do for this fool idea of Mac Torol's."

  Mirayla raised an eyebrow. "You agree."

  Cree nodded. "Only night, less chance of being seen. Contrary to what Benjamin thinks
, I've no desire for my head to end up on a spit. And no inns. The fewer people who see us, the better." He lifted his foot into the stirrup and hoisted himself onto Windchaser's back. "This seems too easy."

  "Hush." Mirayla wagged a finger at him. "Don't say such things or something will happen, you can be sure." She trotted into the lead and out of sight.

  Benjamin groaned and tried to shift to a more comfortable position. "When this is over, I hope I never see another horse."

  Cree grinned. "I thought you wanted Windchaser back." He patted the stallion's neck and nudged the horse to a walk.

  Benjamin scowled and glared at the horse. "You keep him. He likes you. Damn horse nearly took my hand off when we tried to pull him out of that stall. Besides, what use have I for an animal like that?"

  Cree laughed. "I'll find you another horse, one just as grand, but with a little less fire."

  The blacksmith scowled and grunted. "No, thanks, I'm done with horses."

  Mirayla came back and laid a finger across her lips. "Hush, you two. Our luck isn't going to hold. I can see a campfire off the main road."

  "Damn," Cree cursed. "Any way around?"

  She shook her head. "None. We'll just have to take our chances. I can do a few things to make us less noticeable."

  Cree looked towards the heavens and sent up a silent prayer. "Let's hope some kind god is smiling on us. Let's go."

  Rather than rushing through, they rode slowly, moving past the five Reapers playing bones around the fire. Cree held his breath, but the soldiers never looked up from their game. Their passing stirred nothing more than a few blades of grass and an owl, who flew across the road.

  As the sun peeked over the horizon, they veered into the trees and set up a cold camp in the trees. The road was still within view. Cree sagged wearily against the trunk of one of the trees, wrapping his blanket around himself as he closed his eyes. Something soft touched his chin, and he opened his eyes. Mirayla laid her head against his shoulder.

  "It's much warmer here." She smiled and snuggled close.

  He opened his arms and folded her inside the blanket. "It is, isn't it?" She didn't answer. He looked down to find her already asleep.

  ~*~

  Mirayla's sudden start roused Cree. He yawned. "What is it?"

  "Shh. Someone's coming." She inched a little closer to the road.

  "Can you see?" He moved towards her. The ground shook as a group of riders thundered by. Mirayla hissed and slid back to Cree.

  "Those are riders from Rea. Something's wrong."

  "Are you sure?"

  She nodded. "They're wearing Rea's colors, red and white. Wake Benjamin. I know it's not dark, but the sooner we get to Lishal Tor, the better. "

  Benjamin grumbled but finally, climbed on his horse and followed Cree and Mirayla onto the road.

  Mirayla pointed towards Socorrow's Rest. "I think we should try to make as much time as we can. I'm not sure why riders have been called from Rea, but I know that means something serious has happened. I think we should ride hard until dark, then we stop, give the horses a breather, and ride again."

  Benjamin shook his head. "My poor bones."

  "You bones will be a good deal poorer if they're in a prison cell. I know Cree will agree. Are you coming?"

  "Of course I am. Let's go."

  By nightfall, the horses were sweating and breathing hard, and their riders were exhausted and hungry. They stopped near a small stream, and Cree broke the skiff of ice so the horses could drink. He sat on the cold ground and closed his eyes, wishing he could sleep. But instead, he distracted himself with thoughts of his father, of Sarana, and Lishal Tor. "I'm coming," he whispered.

  ~*~

  One day blurred into the next. While the sun was up, they hid in stands of trees, behind rocks, and once in a cave. At night, they rode hard, pushing the horses past the point of exhaustion. Cree was not sure how long they had been riding, but he knew Lishal Tor was close. He closed his eyes and let his mind slowly drift into a doze. How do we get into the city? The gates will be guarded. And then he remembered. The tunnel, but I'm not sure I remember where the entrance is or which room it leads to. He tried to stay awake, tried to remember, but finally sleep claimed him.

  And he woke to Mirayla's kiss. "It's still light." He closed his eyes again.

  "I know, but we'll be at the city tonight. Any thoughts on how to get in? I've led you here, now it's your turn to get us inside."

  He raked his hair out of his mouth. "There's a tunnel that leads into the house. I'm not sure I remember where it's at, though. I used to sneak out and back in through it when I was little. The entrance is by the river." His brow furrowed as he tried to remember. "By a pile of boulders, if they're still there."

  "How close are we to the river?"

  He sat up and surveyed the landscape. "If we veer off the road and travel north, it parallels the road. Probably an hour's ride."

  "And when we find the tunnel?"

  He grimaced, looked at Benjamin's sleeping form, and down into Mirayla's eyes. "We pray."

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  Chapter Twenty-Two

  A tangle of overgrown bushes hid the tunnel entrance. Cree dismounted and pulled the brush away. Darkness filled the mouth of the opening, and Cree shuddered, wondering how he had ever made the trek alone. "A pity we don't have a light."

  "Light?" Benjamin drew close and peered into the darkness. "Here." He passed Cree a makeshift torch. "I don't have anything to light it with." He frowned. "Why is there a tunnel into the city anyway?"

  Cree took the torch and stared at it. "The tunnel goes into Torol House. It's been here since the house was built. It used to be an escape route for smugglers before the area became more civilized. Now, I don't think anyone knows it's here." He bit his lip, closed his eyes, and concentrated. The torch blazed into life.

  Benjamin jumped back and his hand fell to the pommel of his sword. "Good God! Give a man some warning before you do that!"

  Cree grinned and held the torch in the opening. "Shall we?" He reached for Mirayla's hand.

  She slipped her hand into his and frowned. "Do you remember where this comes out?"

  "I think it opens to a storage room next to the kitchen. But it's been years since I've done this. I could be wrong." He waved the torch and stepped into the darkness. The tunnel floor had been lined with rock, and the ceiling bolstered with heavy wooden beams. Water dripped from overhead and formed puddles on the floor. The torchlight fell on the beady eyes of rats and sent them scurrying back into the darkness. Spiders had made a heaven of webs along the ceiling, and occasionally dropped onto the shoulders of the people below them. The silence was oppressive, and no one dared break it.

  The floor sloped downward into a pool of water. Cree shone the torch over it. In the light, the water was muddy and still, but a sudden splash told them that the pool was occupied. "We can jump across, unless you want to step in that. There's no monsters lurking in it."

  Benjamin shook his head. "I'm not wading in it," he whispered. "I'd sooner take my chances with the guards at the gate. And how do you know what's in it anyway?"

  Cree chuckled. "I fell in it once."

  Mirayla glanced dubiously at the pool and then at Cree. "You fell in? What were you doing?"

  "Going to watch the horses come to drink." Benjamin looked puzzled, and Cree's smile widened. "The wild pony herd. They used to come to the river to drink. I skipped Sarana's lessons to watch." At the thought of Sarana, his smile faded, and he shuddered. He pointed to the pool. "Jump across. It isn't so wide."

  Benjamin sucked in a great breath and then leaped. He nearly cleared the pool, but his boot slid backward into the murky water. He cursed and stumbled out of the water. "Come on, Mac Torol." Benjamin reached for the torch.

  Cree easily made the jump and held out a hand for Mirayla. "Take my hand."

  She laughed. "I'm not as squeamish as the two of you." With Cree holding her hand, she hopped d
aintily across. "How much further?"

  Cree thought for a moment, trying to remember the layout of the passage. "I think we're close. The tunnel slopes upward." The floor changed from stone to wood, and ahead laid a door.

  Benjamin jabbed Cree. "What if it's locked?"

  Cree laughed. "It's not going to be locked." He dropped the torch to the ground and doused the flame before turning the door handle. It opened with a faint squeak. He smiled, though in the darkness, neither Mirayla nor Benjamin could see his face. "Nothing ever changes in Torol House," he whispered. He poked his head through the door and extended a thread of thought. Other than mountains of crates, the room was unoccupied. He stepped inside. The door leading into the kitchen was ajar and firelight leaked through the crack, sending shadows creeping high on the wall. "Come on," he whispered and Mirayla and Benjamin joined him.

  Mirayla moved to the kitchen door and listened. "I don't hear anything."

  Benjamin sniffed and rubbed his stomach. "I don't suppose we have time to eat?"

  Cree peeked inside. The kitchen was empty, but the coals of the fire still burned. The scent of fresh bread wafted through the room. Cree's stomach grumbled, but he shook his head. "No, Benjamin, not now. After we find Father." He glanced around to find the exit and padded to another door.

  Benjamin snagged a slice of bread from a wooden trencher. "Are you sure you know where we're going?"

  Cree opened the door a crack. "I haven't forgotten." He closed his eyes, opened his mind, and thought of his father. Childhood memories fought their way to the surface; he forced them back, thinking of Reorden as he had seen him last, a little older, still stubborn, but with a softened attitude toward his eldest. The image came fast, and he struggled to maintain it. Reorden was below him, trapped in darkness. Flashes of anger, disgust and despair washed over Cree, and he pulled away, gasping.