Journey of the Wanderer

by Shawna Thomas

  “Not on Rugia.” His eyes had not released their suspicion.

  She heard the implication. Their Anatarian leader was the same as a slave master. Maybe the Rugians didn’t like serving Bredych. Her idea took roots and grew. Silently she acknowledged Teann at work. A way when there is no way. She reached down and offered the Rugian her hand, trying not to wince as she pulled him to his feet. Her back screamed in protest but she kept the pain from her expression. The tiny acorns woven into his braids knocked together as he rose.

  “What you want with us?” He glanced to his men, who stood with wide eyes.

  “Your name, for a beginning.”

  “I am Ansgar.” He motioned and uttered something in Rugian. If possible, the remaining Rugians’ eyes widened even further.

  “Well, Ansgar.” She gestured to the captive women. “You can start by setting those women free.”

  The man shrugged. “It’s no difference to me. I gathered them from burning village. They were weeping. If you want me to send them back, what it is to me? They wouldn’t get very good price at market anyway.”

  Ilythra stared at the women. What did they have to go home to? The captives stared at her with blank, if fearful, expressions. “You’re safe now,” she called. “I will take you back to the castle at Isolden.”

  “Castle is taken,” Ansgar said.

  She turned to him. “I’ve taken it back.”

  He lifted an eyebrow and spoke slowly. “Perhaps it is not as secure as you think it to be.”

  She smiled. “The caves are collapsed. The mountain now has many of your brethren in its belly. I assure you, the castle is mine.”

  The Rugians exchanged looks. She heard one of them mutter something and caught the word “Thira.”

  “I want you to stop attacking my friends.”

  He laughed. “And who are friends?”

  She spread her hands. “The people of Anatar are my friends.” She was betting a lot on this man’s honor. “I want you to spread word that there is one who challenges and means to defeat Bredych. Let them know of me. Tell anyone who chafes under Bredych’s rule and will listen to what I have said.”

  Ansgar stared at her. His mouth opened, then closed. “You mean rule Anatar?”

  She shook her head. “I have no desire to rule. I want Anatar free to rule itself.”

  “That is not way of things. The strong rule weak. The weak need strong.”

  “That might be so. But there are those with strength who should not rule at all. I want you to tell me everything you know about Bredych.”

  The man spit again. “The Ganich. Wizard.”

  “Yes, the wizard.”

  “This man is your enemy?”

  Ilythra took a deep breath. Enemy, brother, once lover. Too complicated for a single word. “I will see him dead. By my hand, if possible.”

  He stared at her for a long time then nodded. “You have magic too.”

  She smiled but knew it didn’t reach her eyes. “Perhaps I am Thira.”

  One of the men said something in Rugian. Ansgar answered and then said, “Guntia wants to know why Rugian goddess enter Anatarian female.”

  She turned toward the other Rugian. “How better to change your path?”

  Ansgar repeated the words in Rugian. To her surprise, he laughed. Ansgar joined in. “Thira or Anatarian female. I would have you in my war council.”

  “You’re mistaken.” She sat on the log Ansgar had vacated and examined her sword’s edge by the light of the fire. “I would have you in mine.”

  He laughed again. “Captives are yours, by right,” Ansgar continued.

  “Where were you taking them?”

  “Near Anatarian town. Greton. I’ve been ordered to squash rebellion.”

  Ilythra couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face. “Perfect.”

  Ansgar’s eyebrows joined in the middle and his lips thinned. “Why is perfect?”

  “I’ll know where to find you if I need you, and I have friends in Greton.”

  “Let me guess. You want me to aid rebellion. Not end.”

  “Yes and no. Any rebellion helps my cause. So yes, help it in any way you can, but do not become suspect. Bredych must not doubt your loyalty.”

  The Rugian stared into the distance. “That is fine line.”

  Her estimation of the Rugian rose a fraction. “Yes, it is. I’m glad you see that.”

  He seemed to come to a conclusion. “Without my honor, I am nothing. Not among people, not among my family, not in my own mind. I will do as you ask. You earned right. I will challenge you for freedom another time.”

  Ilythra leaned forward. “Listen to me. I do not like you or your kind. My wish is for you to return to Rugia and never walk on Anatarian soil again. I do not want you to be a slave to my will. When Bredych is dead, you will be free.”

  Ansgar raised an eyebrow. “You are honest. We want same. If he doesn’t die?”

  “Then I will be dead, and you will be free of my rule.”

  Ansgar considered her. “Fair enough.”

  “Why the acorns?”

  Ansgar blinked and then smiled. He lifted one braid. “Start small, weak.” He pointed to a nearby tree. “Grow strong until no man can challenge them. Symbol of my house.”

  Ilythra opened her mouth to reply but stilled. Something in the night had shifted. They were no longer alone in the forest.

  Chapter Nine

  Ryliann moved around the room, exchanging a few pleasantries with acquaintances until a column blocked him from his father’s view. He leaned against the cold marble and closed his eyes.

  “You look like you’re having the time of your life.”

  He opened his eyes to the feminine voice. A woman stood before him. Her golden hair was piled on top of her head and secured with dark red gems that caught the light as she moved. An equally red and shimmering gown skimmed her curves. She looked vaguely familiar but he couldn’t place her face.

  She smiled, revealing two perfect dimples, and stretched out her hand. “Clarabel.”

  He smiled. The name sounded familiar too. He took her small hand and kissed it. “A pleasure.”

  To his surprise, she laughed. “You don’t remember me.” Her grin took away the sting from the accusation. “It’s not really your fault. I was about this high.” She lowered her hand to about waist height. “And I believe I convinced you to sneak out to the stables to avoid a formal tea with the adults.” She glanced up at the ceiling as though remembering. “You got in quite a bit of trouble, if I recall. Although I did confess it was all my idea.”

  A memory surfaced. He grinned. “They didn’t believe you.”

  She shook her head. “And you bravely took the punishment for misleading a small, impressionable girl.”

  Ryliann chuckled. “That was you. I remember now.” He took in her figure. “Well, you are a girl no longer. You have grown into a beautiful woman.”

  “Thank you.” She blushed. “I see you still don’t enjoy formal gatherings with the adults,” she added, staring across the room.

  “No, I do not. Though I must have avoided them for too long. I don’t recognize more than half these people.”

  She turned to him, her look sharp and assessing. “Ah, you were traveling in the south for over a year, weren’t you?”

  “Almost a year.”

  “You are not mistaken though,” Clarabel continued. “There are many new faces. And have you noticed how large the group is?”

  He narrowed his eyes, surveyed the room and nodded.

  She smiled at a lord near the buffet table. “That is Lord Casiel. He has taken over for Lord Ambridge of Brest, who died in a hunting accident. That there—” she indicated another man, “—is Peters. I’m not s
ure how he is related to Amou, but he is now dwelling at the castle at Twin Rocks, and Amou is lying under it.”

  Ryliann’s eyebrows rose.

  “I could go on, but it’s the same throughout the kingdom. And not in ours alone. I have heard similar stories regarding Lydda and even further into the Tir Rhos.”

  “Lord Ambridge and Amou are—or were—my father’s staunchest supporters.”

  “Oh, yes. I know.” She smiled and accepted a glass of wine from a passing servant, as did he.

  Ryliann waited. “And your father?”

  A shadow passed over her features. “He died last winter. He grew ill and never recovered. My uncle, his youngest brother, now sits on the seat at Latimar.”

  “I am sorry.” He stared into the rich red liquid. Clarabel’s father, Lord Karel, had been a fit man. One who rode his land daily and still helped with harvests.

  She placed a hand on his arm. “With the change in lords and the blight, the common folk are restless and worried.”

  He drained the glass. “As well they should be.”

  “Why were you gone south so long?” Her blue eyes gazed steadily and with curiosity instead of accusation. He glanced at her, and she blushed, dropping her gaze and her hand. “I am sorry. I should not be so bold. It is one of my worst habits.”

  “It is quite refreshing.” Ryliann smiled. “I wasn’t traveling. We were defending the wave rider villages against the Creeian raiders.”

  “You were far south, then.”

  He shook his head. “Not far enough.” Ryliann looked up to see Martina staring at them. Her eyes glittered in anger.” He turned back to Clarabel. “They have grown bold, attacking only a few day’s south of Edriel.”

  Clarabel closed her eyes briefly. “My apologies and thanks. My father’s estate is just south of Edriel.”

  “I remember now,” Ryliann said. “They haven’t come this far north.” He started to assure her and then thought better. Wasn’t it wiser to warn the lords that they might be under attack by the end of the year? His stomach clenched. His father needed to see it was women of his kingdom like Clarabel who would be put in danger if the Creeians weren’t stopped.

  “Forgive me, Prince Ryliann, but I am not a superstitious person and I am beginning to believe the Siobani have put some kind of spell on us.”

  He gripped her hand. She met his gaze. “It is not the Siobani, but something is sweeping the land. I just don’t know what it is yet. But I will find out.”

  She smiled at him. Trian, one of his father’s counselors, approached. Ryliann bowed to Clarabel. “If you would excuse me.” He lifted her hand and kissed it gently. “I must speak with Lord Trian for a moment.”

  “Of course.” She curtseyed.

  Ryliann stepped away, then paused and turned. “I very much enjoyed speaking with you, Clarabel.”

  She blushed and nodded her agreement. Ryliann left and met Trian several paces away.

  Trian stared over his shoulder. “Not who your father would have picked for you, but lively enough that she wouldn’t bore you and comely enough to give you beautiful children.”

  Ryliann sighed. “You too, Trian?”

  The older man smiled. “The first woman you were speaking with was comelier, in my opinion, but she had a sly look about her. She’s the type of woman who is sweet until she wants something, and then nothing will stand in her way. Bad news.”

  “I’m not worried.”

  “You should be. Especially if she’s decided it’s you she wants. Those are the ones to watch for. They weave kind words and sweet smiles until one day you realize you’re trapped in a net of lies and you don’t know how it happened.”

  Ryliann patted Trian’s shoulder. “It sounds like you speak from experience.”

  Trian smiled. “Everyone makes mistakes.” Trian was on his third marriage. His first two wives had both run off with wealthier men.

  “I can’t believe you’re counseling me to get married.”

  “It is my kingdom too. I also would rest easier with a clear heir.”

  The mirth died a quick death. “Yes, I’ve been told the rate of succession has increased somewhat of late.”

  Trian grimaced. “I’ve spoken to your father about it. He swears there is nothing unusual, but almost every lordship has changed hands since last harvest.”

  “Since shortly after the new counselor arrived.”

  Trian glanced to where Brishne sat with the king. “He makes me nervous too. I have sent riders east to check his story. So far I have no word but I expect it any day. However, I do not see how one man could orchestrate such a widespread evil.”

  Ryliann took a deep breath. He didn’t either, but he knew Brishne was somehow involved.

  “I didn’t chase off your beautiful companion to speak of lords or harvests,” Trian continued.

  Ryliann’s stomach twisted. “What is it?”

  “I have had a message from the south. The Creeian pirates have stepped up the raids. Three villages wiped out completely.”

  “That doesn’t make sense. If they kill everyone, who will they raid next year?”

  Trian shook his head. “We have to go to their defense. Tomorrow there is a council meeting. Together, you and I will convince your father that aid must be given if only for the fear that once the wave rider villages are burned, the next will be ours.”

  * * *

  Casually, Ilythra set the naked sword on her lap. She stared at Ansgar, and he nodded. His sword lay at her feet. She glanced at the other two Rugians. How quickly things changed. Whereas not long ago she would have killed them, now she was prepared to fight by their sides.

  She leaned forward, her senses tuned to the forests surrounding them. Her shirt and tunic were stiff with crusted blood. She needed to see a healer before the wound festered. Ilythra met Ansgar’s gaze and then kicked his blade toward him. He dove for the weapon and came up on his feet.

  A familiar figure stepped into the light. Her sigh of relief was cut short when Ansgar charged toward Arien.

  “Halt!” she yelled. Arien sidestepped, and the heavier Rugian rushed past, spun and raised his sword. “He’s a friend.”

  “This thing is not from Anatar.” Ansgar raised his sword and took a step toward Arien.

  “This is my friend,” Ilythra repeated. “You swore not to attack my friends.”

  Ansgar looked from Arien to Ilythra. For a moment, she thought she’d have to fight him again. “He is monster,” he spat.

  Anger boiled under Ilythra’s skin. “Who have you been listening to? He and his kind are not the monsters.”

  Ansgar backed up a step and cursed. “Goddesses and now monsters. Could this day get worse?”

  “He is an Elderborn, one of the Dawn Children, but he is not our enemy. You have been told lies.”

  Guntia and the other Rugian looked at each other nervously.

  Ansgar fired off something in Rugian then turned to her. “The wizard tells us these put spell on us. Must be killed.”

  “Lies and more lies. The Dawn Children have something Bredych wants. Something that will make him more powerful. He would stop at nothing to get it.” She turned to Arien. “What are you doing here?”

  Arien looked at the clearing. She saw him take in the dead Rugians, the captives and the three Rugian warriors. “Besides rescuing you?”

  She sheathed the sword. “As you can see, I’m not in need of rescuing.” She stared hard at him. The color had returned to his face. She doubted many others could tell, but he still did not appear completely recovered.

  Arien took a deep breath. “Before I left, we received a bird from Father. Bredych has moved against the southern fishing villages.”

  * * *

  Ryliann stepped into the council chambers. His father
sat with his head bent next to his counselor, Brishne. The counselor looked up, his dark gaze steady. Ryliann stilled a shudder. How could his father not see the man did not have the kingdom’s best interest at heart? But as of yet, he didn’t know what the counselor wanted.

  “Ryliann.” His father’s voice was far from welcoming. “To what do I owe this interruption?”

  Ryliann swallowed back the sting of rejection. The king had always appreciated the prince’s presence in his counsel chambers. He had, in fact, encouraged it. Ryliann looked around the near empty room. “Where is everyone else?”

  Did he imagine it, or did the counselor’s eyes gleam? He turned back to his father.

  “Trian is ill, in his chambers.”

  Yesterday, Trian had been as hale as any man he’d ever met. He didn’t think he’d been ill a day in his life. Ryliann raised an eyebrow. “I spoke with him yesterday. What manner of illness?”

  His father shrugged. “I did not ask. If you are worried you might become ill too, see a healer.”

  Ryliann ignored his father’s suggestion. “Ancel, Lowel and Leal?”

  “Ancel had an urgent matter to attend at his holdings, Lowel is on a mission for me and Leal will be here momentarily.” The king shared a glance with his counselor that sent a chill through Ryliann. “But that is not why you’re here. My advisers have never been a big concern of yours until late. What is it you want?”

  Ryliann bit back his anger. He’d never had occasion to worry before, but the implication was clear. He was not wanted here. “I have heard troubling news.”

  “As have I.” The king nodded his head, suddenly appearing older.

  Relief rushed through Ryliann. “Then you have called the banners? You are sending soldiers to help the wave riders?”

  The king looked up, his eyes narrowing. “The banners? Wave riders? Whatever for?”

  Ryliann couldn’t speak for a moment. What was going on? “The Creeian raiders.”

  The king waved his hand in dismissal.

  Ryliann blinked and sank into a chair in stunned disbelief.

  “The wave riders are not even part of this kingdom. I have protected them in the past out of courtesy. A courtesy I cannot afford at present. We have bigger troubles.”