„If we were Behrenese, you would already be dead,“ Juraviel remarked. „But we are not, and if you rode with Brynn Dharielle, then you are no enemies of ours.“ As he finished, he looked sternly at Agradeleous.
The dragon put the man down and let go of him, and the poor soul stood there for a moment, staring back at the lizard creature. Then he simply fell over.
„Tell us everything,“ Agradeleous demanded. „A good tale will make me forget that I am hungry for man-flesh!“
The To-gai-ru to whom the dragon spoke blanched so profoundly that his sudden lack of color was clear to Juraviel and Cazzira even in the dim firelight. Juraviel was quick to his side.
„We are not your enemies,“ the elf said reassuringly. „And perhaps we are your allies. Pray tell us of that awful day, and of Brynn Dharielle, the warrior, my friend.“
It took a long while to settle the camp enough for the man and a few of his bolder companions to relate the story of the disaster at Dharyan, and many of the details were sketchy at best, and often contradictory.
But on one point, there was some agreement. Brynn Dharielle had not been slain - not on the battlefield, at least, though none had any idea if the wounds she had taken there had subsequently proved fatal. She had been taken away on that marvelous pony of hers, by Pagonel, the Jhesta Tu mystic, to where, they did not know.
They did confirm, however, that there was a place far to the south, in a rocky, mountainous land, that the Jhesta Tu called home, a retreat called the Walk of Clouds.
„A tale to calm the hunger of a ravenous beast,“ Juraviel decided, definitively, before Agradeleous could pass any judgment. „Let us beg your forgiveness for our intrusion and the unfortunate confrontation.“
„They started it!“ Agradeleous protested, and all the men cowered a bit at the power of the voice.
„I pray that your wounds will heal and that we will all soon view this meeting as fortunate - for us, for Brynn Dharielle, and for all of To-gai,“ the elf went on, ignoring the interruption, and he rose to leave and motioned for his friends to follow.
„Enough of hiding in shadows and hoping the humans will say what we need to hear,“ Agradeleous said when they had moved back into the darkness away from the camp, his tone showing that he was quite proud of himself- He ended with a wicked chuckle, one that reminded his two companions of the potential catastrophe that was Agradeleous.
Belli’mar Juraviel boldly walked before the dragon, cutting him off. „Never again!“ he warned, wagging a finger at the beast.
Agradeleous regarded him with a somewhat bemused expression.
„These are not our enemies - they are the hope of Brynn’s destiny, and woe to us all if your violence turns To-gai from us, and from Brynn!“
„They are just humans,“ Agradeleous said with a mocking laugh. „To-gai-ru, Behrenese - ha! You speak as if there is a difference.“
„In this case, there is.“
„Only to you, little elf,“ said the dragon. „To me, they are an amusement and nothing more - unless we are speaking of a meal to warm my belly!“
Juraviel glanced over to see Cazzira giving him a concerned look, and one that showed she certainly understood the dragon’s reasoning.
„I have your word on this, Agradeleous,“ Juraviel reminded. „And I hold you to it.“
„Be silent, elf, else I dismiss our compact altogether,“ the dragon retorted. „They came at me with weapons drawn. Besides yourselves, they are the first creatures to do that and live to reconsider their course. You should be praising me for my restraint.“
It took Juraviel a few moments fully to digest the weight of the dragon’s remarks, the threat of breaking the compact, the only real assurance that he had that Agradeleous wouldn’t rain terror upon the world, terror as profound as that wrought by Bestesbulzibar. And that last statement, he recognized, was really a demand.
„You did well in not killing any,“ Juraviel conceded.
„I did well in getting the information, something that you have tried and failed to do for weeks and weeks,“ Agradeleous added.
Juraviel had to admit that they had indeed made progress, discerning a more definitive possibility and path. But he knew, too, the unique nature of this encounter, with a group of rebels out on the empty steppes. They could ill afford any more outbursts from Agradeleous, and they had much more information to gather.
But he had to give Agradeleous this moment, because the dragon wasn’t asking, he was demanding.
And Belli’mar Juraviel was keenly aware of the fact that he had no power to refuse any of Agradeleous’ demands.
chapter23
Ancient Enemies
T
hey crossed the hot desert sands, spear tips and armor glittering in the unrelenting sun. The mounted Chezhou-Lei led the way, with the Jacintha soldiers marching behind. An army of servants, including many To-gai-ru slaves, came behind them, bearing the armor for the elite warriors’ horses, and with wagons and wagons of supplies to get the marching force from city to distant city across the empty sands. At the very head of the column rode Wan Atenn, proud and fierce and dwarfing the man, who was no warrior, riding beside him.
Merwan Ma did not really become comfortable with riding throughout all the days of that journey. He had never even been on a horse until Chezru Douan had unexpectedly ordered him to go along and bear witness to the glorious march, a command that had surely stunned him and all of the others at the great temple of Jacintha. Rarely was the Chezru Chieftain’s personal attendant allowed outside the temple. He wasn’t to go all the way to the Mountains of Fire, though, for the Chezru Chieftain would not take such a gamble with so important a man. Rather, he was to stop at Yatol Peridan’s principal city of Gortha, where Peridan’s private ship would sail him back to Jacintha.
Merwan Ma tried to make the best of the tedium, attempting to engage Wan Atenn in conversation throughout the days. At first, he had been met with a polite but cold detachment, but when he had finally turned his chatter from exaltations of the glory of the Chezru Chieftain to honest and curious questions about the Chezhou-Lei and their ancient feud with the Jhesta Tu, the proud warrior actually began to respond.
„Once, before the advent of the truth, we were of the same order,“ Wan Atenn explained one brutally hot day, the caravan barely inching along. „Those who began the order of Chezhou-Lei were masters of the Jhesta Tu.“
„But who were the Jhesta Tu in those ancient days?“ Merwan Ma asked, for he had little knowledge of this chapter of Behrenese history.
„Priests. Defenders of the secluded villages from the bandits who arned the lawless land.“ Wan Atenn looked over at Merwan Ma and nod-| „Yatol gave order to the land, as the ancestors of the Chezhou-Lei
cjerstood, but most of the others of the ancient order of Jhesta Tu would not accept the truth of Yatol.“
„And so began the feud,“ Merwan Ma reasoned.
„And so came the dominance of the Chezru and the Chezhou-Lei, with the Thesta Tu in retreat to a land even less hospitable than the sands of the desert,“ Wan Atenn replied, his voice the same even and confident tone ihat the Chezhou-Lei always seemed to possess. „The truth has won out. Every now and then, we of the Chezhou-Lei must remind our foolish brethren of that.“
Merwan Ma settled back in the saddle and let it all sink in. He knew that he was out of his element there, so far out, and dwarfed by the prowess of the warriors all about him, and by those they would soon engage in battle. He was excited, surely, but he was also terrified, and a big part of him wanted nothing more than to be back in the safety of Jacintha’s temple, beside his master.
When the procession crossed through each of the cities, the citizens inundated them with new supplies, the farriers rushed to reshoe their horses, to polish armor and repair weapons. And when they left, all the air buzzed with the excited whispers of the populace, watching their greatest going to war.
The route from Jacintha to the
Mountains of Fire was not straight. The army followed the coast all the way to the southern edge of the kingdom, Peridan’s city of Gortha, where Merwan Ma bade the warriors farewell.
Wan Atenn then turned west, marching a zigzag from city to oasis to city, and thus, by the time the rocky black-and-gray mountains were at last in sight, spring had turned to summer.
The ground beneath their feet changed from sand to rocky ground over the next days, and the shadows stretched over them from the mountains in the west earlier each afternoon. The horses were clad in their plated armor, slowing the pace, and the Chezhou-Lei would only allow a march of a few miles each day. They had to stay fresh and ready for battle, so close to the home of the dreaded Jhesta Tu.
Outside a small village under the shadow of the northern edge of the Mountains of Fire, Belli’mar Juraviel and his two companions first overheard word of the march of the Chezhou-Lei and the Behrenese army. The rumors surrounding that march, that a Chezhou-Lei had been slain outside of Dharyan by a Jhesta Tu warrior, brought even more hope to the elf that he might yet find his dear ranger friend still alive, and only made him more anxious than ever to find the way to this elusive place called the Walk of Clouds.
He noticed, though - as he had since he and his companions had left the rebel band on the steppes far to the north - that one of his companions didn’t seem to share his enthusiasm for the journey.
Indeed, Agradeleous had come along more hesitantly each day, a pace that had slowed even more once the small cluster of towering and rocky mountains came into view.
„We must find them before this battle is joined,“ Juraviel remarked that night as the three settled into a camp in a rocky alcove in the foothills of the mountains. „Perhaps in the dark of night, you can assume your natural form, Agradeleous, that we might fly about the mountainsides for sign of the hidden monastery.“
„No,“ the dragon answered, simply and firmly, and both Juraviel and Cazzira turned curious looks his way.
„Are you too far from home?“ Juraviel did ask.
Agradeleous didn’t answer, other than to give him a skeptical smirk.
„Then what troubles you?“ the elf pressed.
Agradeleous narrowed his reptilian eyes threateningly, and Juraviel knew that he should back off this particular subject.
And then it hit him. The dragon feared, or at least held a healthy respect for, the Jhesta Tu mystics. The revelation surprised the elf, but only at first. Certainly, dragons had been slain in the past, usually by mighty gemstone-wielding Abellicans, and several of the battles against marauding dragons waged by the barbarian Alpinadorans in the frozen north were nothing less than legendary.
Agradeleous did not want to openly expose his true form before the walls of the Jhesta Tu monastery; the dragon apparently held the Jhesta Tu in equal esteem to the mightiest Abellicans. That, too, gave Juraviel some hope that Brynn had somehow managed to escape the tragedy of Dharyan alive.
Brynn brushed Runtly in a small and fairly secluded field around the rocks and through a long and boulder-strewn valley from the monastery stairs. The two had just shared a fast and furious ride from the larger fields where the rest of the wild horses roamed, to the small field near a stream so that she could cool down and brush the pony.
Those were the hours of peace for Brynn, the times of absent reflection, of memories of hopes and of her own feelings concerning this very special interlude in her extraordinary life.
She lost herself there, in the small lea, and so, oblivious to her surroundings, she didn’t take note of the movement along the rocky borders of the field and was completely surprised when a voice rang out behind her.
„Stand where you are, or die where you are!“ came a rough call, in a dialect that Brynn knew to be Behrenese before she ever turned to regard the speaker.
A when she did turn, she paled indeed, for there stood not just one, a line of warriors - of Chezhou-Lei warriors!
„You wear no sash,“ the man remarked.
Brynn didn’t even hear him, so caught was she by his presence here. For recognized him from the battle of Dharyan, from his leap down from thJwalls when he had killed Ashwarawu.
„Why do you wear no sash, if you are of the Jhesta Tu? „ he asked.
Brvnn understood that he did not similarly recognize her, and when she
thought about it, she realized that it made sense. She was not outfitted for
battle- she hadn’t worn her beret or even her sword down from the monas-
ery and in the fight at Dharyan, while she had seen this one so very clearly,
he had likely not even noticed her, just another body in the mass of turmoil.
„I am not of the Jhesta Tu,“ she answered honestly, keenly aware now that other warriors were moving out of the shadows all about her.
„We watched you come down the steps,“ the man answered.
„I… I am visiting there, but am not of their order,“ Brynn stammered, having no idea of where she should try to guide this unexpected conversation.
„Take her!“ the man growled suddenly. „A prisoner to lure the birds from their aerie!“
A rush came at her from behind, and Brynn responded reflexively, without even thinking, dropping low and skittering underneath the pony.
She came up and around to Runtly’s back hard, angling her leading arm to deflect a punch heading for her face, then stepping in closer and snapping her head forward, smashing her forehead against the attacking warrior’s nose. As he fell back, Brynn drew his sword from under the sash he wore, rushing past him and shoving him all the way down as she did.
She wasn’t used to the curving blade, though, and as she tried to parry the slash of another warrior, she barely connected, and at the wrong angle, and his sword slid up and opened a gash between her thumb and her index finger.
Grimacing through the pain, Brynn turned her blade all the way over, forcing the Chezhou-Lei’s sword down to the side. Then, instead of retreating, she reached out her left hand and slapped Runtly on the rump, and the pony responded with a kick. It didn’t connect fully, just enough to clip the man and send him stumbling away.
Brynn had him dead, easily so, but several others were closing fast. She started for the vulnerable warrior, and the other Chezhou-Lei moved to intercept.
Brynn threw her sword at them, pivoted about, placing her hands on Runtly’s rump and, leaping up, fell into place on the pony’s back.
He leaped away immediately, cutting to the side at Brynn’s command. She ran a short circle, looking for an opening in the shuffling and shifting line of warriors, and then she darted straight out at the initial speaker.
An arrow just missed her head; another one hit hard in Runtly’s flank.
The pony stumbled and almost went down, but Brynn tightened her Ws on his flanks and urged him on. He caught his balance in a dead gallop veering to the side, Brynn bending low over his neck, urging him on.
The Chezhou-Lei warriors blocking the way held their ground until the very last second, then two of the three dove aside. The third moved out a single step, lifting his sword, thinking to unhorse the rider as she passed but Brynn and Runtly were too in harmony for that. Even as the situation unfolded before her, even as the woman thought that she should veer the pony, Runtly was already doing just that.
The Chezhou-Lei warrior didn’t even try to abandon the attack, trading the impact from the charging pony for a slash at Brynn. To his credit, he did score a hit as he went flying aside, but there was no momentum behind it, and while the fine sword did open the woman’s leather tunic and put a decent gash across her side, as well, she held her seat and galloped away.
Arrows flew after her, another scoring hard on poor Runtly’s flank, and then a third.
Tears welled in Brynn’s eyes whenever her beloved pony stumbled, but the gallant pony would not stop his run, would not allow the enemy warriors to catch her.
They went down the rocky ravine, coming out onto the sto
ne-filled clearing at the base of the mountainside staircase. As if understanding the course, Runtly brought Brynn to the base of the stairs and pulled up short.
She leaped from the pony’s back, turning to attend to him, but he jumped away before she could begin to tend the arrow wounds, running out the other end of the clearing.
Brynn took a step, as if to follow, but she heard the pursuit, coming hard. Only then did the woman appreciate her own stinging wounds. „Run,“ she whispered at her fleeing pony, and she turned and scrambled up the stairway. She paused and glanced back at Runtly several times, watching him move away, limping, and she thought of going to him.
But then she heard the shouts as the warriors came on in pursuit. Brynn recognized her responsibility here, to the Jhesta Tu, if not to herself, and so she turned and charged up the stairs, driving on, step after step. Weariness overcame her soon after, along with a deep burn in her side. She reached over and brought her hand back covered in bright blood.
She growled away the pain and shook the weariness from her head and drove on, step after step, pressing onward and upward.
She lost all sense of time, and though she heard no pursuit on the stairs behind her, she wouldn’t stop, not even to rest. For she felt that if she sat down to rest, she would not find the strength to get back up and go on again. Growling with every step, the young ranger determinedly and edly continued, even going down to all fours and crawling up the steep
When she thought that she would have to just lie down and let a 1 iarkness overcome her, Brynn came over the lip of the ascent, to the nding to the side of the arching stone bridge. 3 She called out, or tried to, then went down to the stone.
She heard the voices all about her in moments, then felt herself lifted into strong and caring arms.
When the world stopped spinning, Brynn found herself lying on a cot in the main house of the monastery. She opened her eyes to see Pagonel and several other Jhesta Tu looking down at her.
„Chezhou-Lei warriors,“ she said, gasping. „Many of them. In the valley
Transcendence Page 38
