Journey of the Wanderer

by Shawna Thomas

  “Yes,” answered Ryliann.

  “Yet you haven’t asked. This is a rare trait in humans.” He grinned. “Especially in those I’m close to. I’ve admired your patience. It will be rewarded. We are almost there.”

  Ryliann accepted a piece of bread Ewen tore off a loaf. The Riege began to prepare a simple meal of dried meat and fruit.

  “Are your men ready?” Ewen asked.

  “As ready as men ever are to die.” Ryliann bit a piece of bread and chewed. His stomach gurgled in appreciation.

  “Do you think you send them all to their death?” Ewen was once again examining him.

  “Our chances are slim. Even if the men learn everything your people are teaching them. We may take the enemy by surprise, win battles. However, we’re so few. I don’t believe in miracles...” Ryliann trailed off. Was he being disrespectful? He sighed. No, he was being truthful.

  “Perhaps before too long you will,” Ewen spoke, offering Ryliann another piece of bread. “Have you thought what you’ll do about your father?”

  Ryliann caught his breath. Why should he be surprised the Dawn Child knew his greatest fear? “Without end,” he said.

  “It’s possible you’ll meet him on the battlefield or someone else you love. You’re not wrong to prepare yourself. However, know there are limits. You’ll have to focus on other concerns as well.”

  Ryliann watched the fire dance. Other concerns. He’d been labeled a traitor, was leading his men against impossible odds, could very possibly have to fight against his own father or someone else he cared for and, according to what he’d learned, if he failed, all of Anatar would suffer. He wasn’t sure if it was possible to hold another concern.

  Ewen reached over and touched his arm. “Eat, prince. We’ve a hard climb this afternoon.”

  * * *

  Ryliann gazed out on the landscape. The afternoon sun caught a thousand tiny diamonds in the snow still clinging to the rocks. He’d always loved to be outdoors but until now, he’d never heard the beauty of silence.

  Ewen adjusted his pack as he led Ryliann up a nearly indiscernible path between large boulders and treacherous shale.

  After they’d left the cave, Ryliann discovered his heart felt lighter than it had in a long time. He wondered at the change. Nothing had happened. Joined by the Dawn Children, they still faced the monumental task of defeating an enemy of unknown proportions. He was an outcast, unable to go back the city he loved. Yet he found himself smiling at a squirrel’s antics or grinning at the daring of a flower defying the captivity of winter.

  Ewen turned to Ryliann. “We’re almost there.”

  After a few more steps, Ewen stopped. Ryliann joined him and gazed into the distance in amazement. Below him was the chasm, a sheer drop thousands of wheels to a narrow gleaming river. On the other side, the Tir Rhos spread out as far as his eye could see, pale gold dotted by the occasional green. Closer to the chasm, a flash of white in the endless gold caught his eye. Tents? He spotted another group and another. Soon he was able to pick out people moving among the enclosures. Smoke from many fires rose, gray against the blue of the sky, disappearing into the heavens.

  “What’s this?” he asked.

  “It could be called many things, Prince Ryliann. They’re outcasts from their homes. Human refugees,” Ewen replied.

  Ryliann turned to the Riege, amazed. “Where did they come from?”

  “All over, slowly at first, but in increasing number they have gathered here.”

  He stared from Ewen back to the plains below. “Why?”

  “They’ve heard. They’ve come for you. This, Prince Ryliann, is your miracle...and your army.”

  Part Three

  I am afraid of what this means to the Dawn Children. Even if we win, will we have lost everything that makes us who we are? ~ Arien

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ryliann rushed down the corridors of Siann. Funny how each hallway brought to mind a memory of Ilythra. His entire army waited for him at the gates of Siann but he wouldn’t leave again without saying goodbye. Trusting his instincts, he headed toward the library. He charged in and came to a stop.

  Ilythra looked up from a book, her eyes wide. “Ryliann? I thought you were leaving this morning.”

  “I am.” He walked toward her, suddenly unsure. “You were going to let me leave without saying goodbye?”

  Ilythra opened her mouth then shut it. Her chin came up.

  Ryliann smiled. “You may be many things, Ilythra of Siann, great stone keeper, Wanderer, warrior, Shi’ia master, but you are not a good liar.” Acting on instinct more than common sense, he reached for her and pulled her from the chair. Her eyes widened but she didn’t resist. He knew her passivity wouldn’t last. “I am leaving, possibly going to my death, maybe going to victory.” He loosened his grip on her arms enough she wouldn’t fight it, but didn’t let go. “I owe much that I know, that my men know, to you and your training. For this, I thank you. But that’s not why I’m here.”

  Confusion darkened Ilythra’s gray irises.

  “I am here because I am going to miss you like I’ve never missed any other human being. Because I think I could spend all day long talking with you and want to do it again in the morning.” He shook his head. Words were never his strength.

  Ilythra stiffened in his arms. He drew her close, slid a hand up her arm to her chin and kissed her gently. The flavor of citrus lingered on her lips. Heat spread through his body like a flame over dry tinder. At first she didn’t respond, and then she seemed to relax into his arms. Her lips molded to his. Ilythra’s body fit against his own like they were two halves of the same puzzle.

  Hunger fired deep in Ryliann’s gut. He wanted more from this woman but didn’t think he’d ever get enough. When he pulled away, her eyes were dilated and she was breathing heavily. For a moment, he cursed the men waiting for him at the gates.

  “When we see each other again, I hope you don’t mind if we start where we left off.” He stroked the side of her face with the back of his hand and hurried out of the library, leaving Ilythra looking breathless and stunned.

  * * *

  Night still held the garden in its grip, dimming the brilliant color of the flowers, increasing shadows, but Ewen found peace in the promise of morning. He hadn’t been able to sleep. This garden had always been his refuge. He sat on a cold bench near a pond, listening to the slap of the still unseen fish.

  “Where’s Ryliann now?” Manu’s voice broke the stillness of the morning.

  Ewen didn’t turn but waited until he sensed Manu settle on the bench near him. “After we returned, I arranged for Ryliann’s humans to join those on the plains. Now it’s time for his warriors to train as many others as possible. They left yesterday.”

  “Time grows short?”

  “Yes, my friend, it does. Time is now our enemy.”

  “Have you news?”

  Ewen nodded. “An army masses in the south, past the Tir Rhos near the mountains. Another forms in the west near Edriel. They’re traveling north, gathering those they can, and swelling like a river in spring.”

  “Arien?”

  “He’s still in Siann with Ilythra. He will lead warriors to join Ryliann soon. We’ll not openly challenge Bredych’s army. Not until necessary.”

  “These strategies leave a bad taste in my mouth, and not mine alone.” Manu stopped to touch a rosebush as the newborn light infused the flower with color.

  “I know, my friend.” Ewen looked to his companion. “If there were any other way...”

  Manu placed a hand on Ewen’s sleeve. “And Ilythra?”

  Ewen took a deep breath. His old friend had hit on exactly what was troubling him. “She is a warrior.”

  “That doesn’t answer the question. You don’t want her to lea
ve the protected lands.”

  “No, of course not. Yet she must, and so must I.”

  “Are you certain?” A note of surprise entered the elder’s voice.

  “Yes. The time is not yet, but I will once again walk human lands.”

  The silence stretched as the garden woke. Ewen watched the orange and ivory fish nibble at a floating plant.

  “Did all humans depart with Ryliann?” Manu finally broke the silence.

  “Yes, and a few of our warriors as well to continue training and supervise.”

  Manu gazed into the distance. “Sometimes, I think I’ve lived too long.”

  A bird trilled in a nearby bush. Without a word, they paused to listen.

  “And sometimes not long enough,” Manu amended. Ewen took Manu’s arm in his and together they walked in the early morning sun.

  * * *

  A surge of pride suffused his breast. Bredych watched from a rise as warriors marched by, their spears gleaming in the morning sun like stars in a field of green. Column after column advanced beneath his scrutiny. Gripping his stallion’s reins, Bredych urged the horse forward.

  A single blot darkened his moment of victory. She hadn’t come. It hadn’t been integral to his plan, but it would have been gratifying. He’d taken satisfaction in the knowledge that Ilythra knew the elderly healer’s death was on her hands. He’d seen the horror in her eyes when she first saw the woman tied and bruised. But she hadn’t attempted to rescue her old mentor.

  Had she grown a shell? Did the death of someone she loved no longer spur her to action? Had Ewen infected her with his own lax attitude? The woman had been too weak and frail for him to take any satisfaction from torturing her. She’d died on the first day. But Ilythra hadn’t known that.

  In the end, it didn’t matter. She loved Anatar, and Anatar would soon be his. Then she would come to him.

  Bredych turned his attention back to the men. His army. It was finally time. Indeed, it had already begun. They would continue to sweep the land. Any who chose not to join them would be razed. Those who possessed more wisdom would swell his ranks until he was unstoppable. He smiled as the Rugians strode by. Tall, fierce warriors, their pale braided hair rested upon animal-skin jerkins barely covering well-muscled thighs. He knew, farther south, the dark-skinned Formori warriors were also marching, perhaps even now sweeping across the Faisach, destroying the desert tribes and then joining his followers in the mountains. They’d eliminate any resistance there. They would hold the south lands for him until he’d finished with the Siobani once and for all.

  Bredych clenched his jaw. He would remain in Edriel for a short time until he was certain all who dwelled there were loyal to him, and then he’d join his army as it swept the land. He wanted to be there when his army confronted the Siobani or found a way to breach the great chasm. It wouldn’t be long now. Dominion was his, and he’d soon control the other two stones, and with them, all of Anatar would serve him.

  * * *

  The Tir Rhos stretched out before him in a sea of golden swaying grasses. Smoke smudged the horizon, the only evidence of the massive camp Ewen had shown him from the heights. Ryliann rubbed his moist palms on his leggings. Were they really there for him? What if they turned him away? What if there were no willing men? What if it was a trap?

  “What are we waiting for?” The ever-practical Vann spoke by his side.

  “My courage to catch up to my will,” Ryliann answered and glanced at the two dozen men waiting only a short distance behind him. They’d left the remaining men a day’s ride away. Not only did Ryliann not want to draw attention to the refugees by bringing his army into the camp, he wanted the people camping on the plains to know he was no threat. They’d been driven from their lands because they would not fight for Bredych. He wouldn’t force anyone to fight for him. A show of force, even as little as his army was, would cloud that choice.

  “You think we’re going to be attacked by a group of refugees?” Vann asked. “Didn’t Ewen say their spies said that most of the people were unarmed farmers or women and children?”

  Ryliann grinned. “Haven’t you learned by now that not all women are harmless?”

  Vann rubbed his jaw where Ilythra had caught him with her staff during a practice session a moon before. “Well, that one is different. She’s not—”

  “Not a real woman?” Ryliann was shocked by the anger that surged up in him.

  Vann raised an eyebrow. “She’s not your average woman. I like mine a little more docile...and soft.”

  At one time Ryliann would have agreed. But no longer. He couldn’t imagine wanting soft curves and vapid thoughts when he could have strength and femininity equally mixed. There was something about the female warrior that irritated him to the point that he just couldn’t stay away. He couldn’t even keep her from his thoughts. He took a deep breath, remembering the kiss. She had responded with equal passion. Why hadn’t he done that days before?

  “Is there something I should know about?” Vann asked.

  “No, why?” Ryliann could almost feel the color on his cheeks.

  “Because I have never seen you look like that when you spoke of any woman.”

  “She is not just any woman.” He turned to Vann and met his friend’s gaze. “And she’s out of my class.”

  “You’re a prince.”

  “And she’s a stone keeper.” Ryliann sighed and stared over the plains. “We’d better get this over with. I don’t want to approach at dusk.”

  “Why, afraid they’ll mistake you for a Rugian?” Vann waved at Ryliann’s hair. “I can see why you’d be worried, but fortunately I’m with you.”

  “You’re right, although I don’t see how the refugees thinking a Rugian brought his captured female along helps us much.” Ryliann grinned at the affronted expression on his friend’s face and urged his mount toward the camp.

  As they neared, he tensed. He waited for some kind of challenge, but none came until they were almost on top of the nearest tents. A small boy looked up from gathering roots, eyes wide, and ran on chubby legs back toward the trampled grasses of the clearing. Ryliann shook his head. No defenses? Surely they wouldn’t use a small child as part of a trap. He and his men could have been marauding Rugians or one of the raiders or thieves who roamed the land. They wouldn’t have shown mercy to anyone, even a child.

  Ryliann and his men continued toward the camp. Tents sprawled as far as the eye could see. A winding silver river flowed on the outskirts of the camp and a fresh breeze brought a slight scent of refuse.

  Three men strode forward, swords in hand. A few men with spears lingered nearer the tents and ramshackle buildings. In the silence, the roar of a river could be heard.

  Ryliann held his hands up. His men followed suit. “We mean you no harm. I wish to speak to someone in charge.”

  The three men whispered furiously to one another without taking their gazes off Ryliann and his men. “Who are you?”

  “My name is Ryliann. These are my men.”

  The men glanced at one another. Finally one of them called over his shoulder. “Eli, go get Cappi.”

  Another boy, this one older with torn and mended leggings and only a vest covering his bare chest, ran toward a building. A moment later he appeared, leading an older man. Long gray hair hung around the man’s face and brushed his chest. He leaned heavily on a stick. Ryliann realized a moment later that his right pant leg was empty from the knee down. He glanced around for a place for Cappi to sit. One of the spear-holding men followed his gaze and rolled a log between the men guarding the tents and his own warriors.

  Ryliann waited until Cappi sat and then took a few steps forward. He signaled for Vann to accompany him but the rest to stay where they were. When he met no resistance, he walked a wheel’s length from the old man and crouched on the ground.

&
nbsp; Cappi observed him with lively brown eyes. “So you’re Ryliann, the prince who ran. Not as big as some say you are.” He turned to the refugee men. “Get the man a seat. One for his friend, too,” Cappi called. The creases around his eyes deepened as he smiled. After two more logs were placed near Cappi, Ryliann and Vann sat. “You don’t look much like a prince. That’s for sure.” Cappi patted his knee with one hand. “Not that I’ve seen many. Did you really enter the Siobani lands?”

  Ryliann glanced at Vann. “Yes, I did.”

  Vann mouthed, The Prince who ran?

  Cappi scratched his chin. “I don’t abide much by rumors. Still. I don’t think you came to rob or kill us. Besides, we ain’t got much more than our lives anyway. So why don’t you stop my guessin’ and tell my why you’s here.”

  Ryliann took a deep breath. “I’m an outcast from my home, like you. I found shelter with the Dawn Children. They’re going to help me get my home back. I’ve come to see if there are any of like mind who want to join me.”

  Something flickered in the depths of the man’s eye but he blinked it away. “How you gonna do that?” He waved his hand toward the group of tents. “Each of these families here. They got their own story. Rugians burned some of their homes. Others it was the Cree or roving bandits. How you gonna take all their homes back? Or do you just want us to help you get yours?”

  “No. All of our homes back. There is a man, Brish—Bredych who is behind all of the unrest. He is building an army. He plans to sweep across Anatar and rule the land.”

  “I don’t know much about no Bredych, but I’d sure like to see that Kell get what was comin’ to ‘em.”

  “Who’s Kell?”

  “Murderer. Killed his brother, he did. They said it was an accident, but we all knew better. The crown passed to him. He said we was gonna fight for a united Anatar. Some of us just wanted to plow the ground. Soon after, we was all running for our lives.”

  Ryliann stared off into the distance. The story sounded much like the reports Ewen had gotten. He turned back to Cappi. “Why come here?”