“Where though?” Hilana piled her wood in the middle of the biggest fire ring. “How can we know where he’s going from here?”
“We have to trust our instincts,” Alronna said. “We went to Lukozilxa, cut our way through that swampy forest, crossed the hills and valley, and now we’re back on his trail.”
“And those lizard things seemed to be on our trail. They came right for us.” Lakhoni dipped his hands in a cistern of clean water next to one of the homes. He pulled them out of the cold water and scrubbed them together, then dried them on his breeches. “But Alronna’s right.” Lakhoni turned in a slow circle, scouring the canyon walls and surrounding trees. “And this can’t be everyone who lived here. Wherever the rest of them went, they have to come back to their homes. Don’t they?” His question met with only empty expressions of anger and grief from the others. “They’ll come back. They’ll deal with their dead.” He tugged his dagger partly out of its sheath, then slid it home, using the crisp motion to settle his swirling thoughts. “We have to go after him now.”
Hilana looked like she wanted to argue. Simra looked stricken and frail, like she could be blown away by an errant breeze. Lakhoni crossed the wide, cleared space and took her in his aching, bandaged arms. He didn’t know what to say, so he simply held her—careful to not disturb the wounds on his chest and stomach.
“Agreed,” Lamorun said. He straightened from arranging his huge armful of wood in the same fire ring as Hilana had used. The muscles in his arms flexed and squeezed as he clenched his fists, then unclenched them. “And since we have no way of knowing if more of those lizards are out there, we must proceed.” Lamorun dabbed at a small rivulet of blood that escaped from his scabbing chest. “So, brother. Sister. Where to from here?”
Lakhoni looked to the sky. The light at the bottom of the canyon was dimmer than it should be at this time of day, but the sun was already out of sight beyond the high canyon walls. “We go downstream. There is nothing that way.” He pointed to the east, where the rough canyon walls narrowed quickly and became an unpassable crack in the earth. “The canyon gets wider to the west. So we go that way.”
“We have to move faster than him, right?” Hilana asked. “And we believe he’s going west?”
“Yes,” Alronna said, shaking her head and taking a deep breath. She focused on her family, her brows knit tightly together. “He must be. Still looking for the Rod, hopefully.”
Hilana glanced at Lamorun. “We found a boat down that way where the river gets deeper. We could take that. Maybe we can catch up to him that way.”
“Unless he also had a boat.” Simra squeezed Lakhoni and stepped back a pace. “But it’s a good idea.”
Lakhoni hated going after Gadnar so blind. But they had caught his trail again and this time they would not let it go. This time they would catch him. “Let’s go.”
Lamorun and Hilana led the way down the canyon, following the river bank downstream. “It starts getting deeper here,” Lamorun said, pointing. Where the water had been dancing and leaping over rocks and fallen branches, now it was calmer, although it still moved quickly. The river narrowed a little here too, leaving a wider bank for them to walk on.
They soon came to a rock jetty that had obviously been built by people. It extended out ten paces into the river, its top a single pace above the water. They must have moved thousands of rocks to build this. And Gadnar had come through and murdered sons and daughters, brothers and sisters. Again. Lakhoni pushed the anger and grief at the deaths deep into the furnace he’d been building in his core.
A wide boat was tied to a tall, cylindrical rock that stuck up from the man-made jetty. “It should fit all of us easily,” Hilana said, leading the way to the boat.
“And the fact that there’s a boat means that there must be something downstream, right?” Simra said, her face thoughtful. She looked upstream toward the quiet, empty village. “Or maybe they just caught fish.”
“They could do that from the banks,” Alronna said. “You’re right. There must be some place these boats went to.”
“Then let’s get moving.” Lakhoni put his arms out and urged Simra and Alronna toward the waiting vessel.
Hilana lifted a short, sturdy oar from the boat. “There are six of these in here.” She held the first oar out to Lamorun. “Here. Get ready to st—” her face went slack as her eyes focused on something behind Lakhoni and the others.
“What?” Lakhoni caught the angle of her gaze and began to spin around. “Gadnar?”
“No.” Hilana’s voice was a harsh whisper. “Don’t move. There are people on the cliff face.”
A bolt of excitement shot through Lakhoni. Were these survivors of Gadnar’s attack? He ignored Hilana’s command. “I’m moving.” He turned and studied the canyon wall, which was over a hundred paces away. “Where?”
Hilana had the eyes of a hawk. “See the old man’s face halfway up? Two shadows for his eyes and a ledge for his mouth? Come straight down from there. There are cracks and holes, caves maybe? I saw movement in a few of them.”
Lakhoni peered in that direction, but struggled to even see the old man’s face. “Come on. They must be survivors. Or if nothing else they have to know something helpful.” He broke into a jog, trusting the others to follow. He ignored the pains in his legs and stomach and kept his pace up.
“Don’t scare them away, Lakhoni,” Simra called after him.
“I won’t.”
“And don’t bleed to death!”
Lakhoni forced himself to slow slightly. “I won’t.”
Hilana and Alronna appeared at either side, matching his pace. “Perhaps we do not want to appear at a run, weapons hanging from our sides?” Hilana raised her eyebrows in question as she spoke.
Lakhoni was tired. This chase felt aimless. The bloodshed was relentless. He shook his head. “No time for that.” They were already nearly at the canyon wall. He raised his voice. “People on the cliff! We are not murderers.”
“Because a murderer wouldn’t say that at all,” Alronna muttered. She spread her hands wide and took a deep breath. “We are chasing the man who killed your sisters and brothers. We need your help to find him.”
They stared at the rock face as Lamorun and Simra joined them. Lakhoni still saw no people, although he saw the cracks and small caves Hilana had been talking about. Nothing moved. Lakhoni glanced at Hilana. “Are you sure?”
She nodded, lips tight with irritation. “I know I saw them. They’re hiding deeper now, so I can’t see them anymore.”
“They must be scared,” Simra said. “Maybe everyone should drop their weap—”
“Ancestors alive,” Lamorun swore. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted. “If you would at least tell us whether the man with the hole in his chest has the Rod, that would be very helpful.”
Lakhoni gave his brother what he hoped was a disapproving look. “Starting small might work better.”
“He took a boat!” A voice called down. It sounded like a young man.
Lamorun sniffed and cleared his throat, fixing Lakhoni with a satisfied expression.
“The man with the hole in his chest?” Lakhoni shouted back. Why wouldn’t these people just come down from their hiding places? “How long ago?”
“Yes!” This was the same voice. “He left four days ago.”
“Three,” came another voice, this definitely a young woman. “Malish, it’s been three days.”
“Malish?” Hilana asked, looking around at the others.
“Must be his name,” Simra said.
“It’s four, Waita!” the first voice retorted.
“Three!”
Lakhoni threw his voice up the rocky wall. “That’s all right, thank you. Can you tell us if he had the Rod?”
Silence was all that came back.
“Please,” Lakhoni said. He gestured at his companions. “We’ve been following this man for a long time. We stopped him and his brother far south of here. We’re trying to
put an end to his evil.”
“What do you know of the Rod?” This was a man’s voice, deep and worried.
Alronna joined in. “Only that it’s the Rod of Lukoz and that it’s supposed to have some kind of power. We’re trying to keep Gadnar from getting it. That’s all that matters.”
“All that matters?” The man’s voice rose in pitch on the last word. “It has the power to raise a conquering army. He must not get it!”
“Then why did you not hide the tablet, Dunon?” This was another man. “Ela and Moro threw it away!”
“They didn’t throw it away,” the first man, Dunon, shouted back. “They did the best they could to keep the people safe. If we’d hidden it with us, he would have searched and found us. Too many would have died, Gelb!”
“You threw the Rod away?” Lakhoni broke in. Why did these people insist on staying in their hiding places while openly arguing? “You could come down and make this easier, you know.”
“Not the Rod. The tablet! Ela and Moro did the right thing,” Dunon yelled, somewhat defensively. “Moro snatched it from the murderer while he was occupied. Then Moro and Ela did what they were supposed to: keep it from him and keep the people safe.”
“They’re not safe, are they, Dunon?” The other male voice shouted. This had to be the one Dunon had called Gelb. “They died at the water’s edge when they could have simply come up to the holes. The murderer would not have found them or us!”
“Enough!” Alronna stepped closer to the cliff face. “We don’t need any of that. You’re saying the two by the river threw a tablet away. What is that? And what does it have to do with the Rod?”
“And where?” Simra asked.
“Down the river,” Waita answered. “The bad man found them after and killed them. We saw it.” Waita’s voice cracked on the last few words. “The Tablet is a map carved in wood to a city to the west. The city that holds the Rod.”
A soft voice carried down the cliff face, saying something Lakhoni could not make out.
“If you are trying to catch him, you must go,” Gelb said from wherever he was hiding. It sounded like he was lower than most of the other voices. “The man arrived seven days ago, appearing injured and sick. We took him in. He asked about Lukoz and the Rod. Someone said too much and the man—”
“How was I to know he was a demon?” Dunon broke in. “He gave the signs and words that meant he knew about the Rod.”
“Be silent, Dunon,” Gelb said. “The man, he called himself Anor, learned that we were the Keepers. That’s when he killed Jona. He said he would keep killing until we gave him the Tablet with the map.”
“You have to understand,” Dunon said. Now his voice was lower, practically on the ground. He appeared from the shadow of trees at the base of the canyon wall, a lean, steel-haired man. A heavy black and white beard covered his face, dropping all the way to his chest. “We are not warriors. Our grandfathers’ grandfathers buried their weapons as a covenant of peace. We do not fight.” He spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “We cannot fight.”
Another man emerged from the trees. He was the same height and build as Dunon, but with a clean-shaved face. “We tried to placate this man, Anor.” This was Gelb. As the men spoke, movement caught Lakhoni’s eye and he saw countless people emerging from holes in the stony canyon wall and starting to climb down. “We pled with him to leave even as the women and children started escaping to the holes, but he was determined. He slew Jona’s brother and swore he would kill everyone.”
“I told him where the Tablet was.” Dunon’s face shook, as if he was about to dissolve into tears. “He went to the Sacred Cave and took it.” He swallowed and carefully kept his eyes averted from Gelb’s face. “I just wanted the killing to stop.”
Gelb put his arm around Dunon’s shoulders. “You did what you thought was right.” His expression mournful, Gelb continued. “Six of the youngers decided to take the Tablet from Anor. Four fought him with heavy sticks. Ela and Moro took the Tablet while Anor was butchering the others.” Tears fell freely down Gelb’s cheeks.
“Ela and Moro fled down the river,” Dunon said, his arm going around Gelb’s shoulders and squeezing him tightly. “We didn’t hear them talk, but their choice was clear. Join us in the holes with the Tablet and bring Anor upon us all or die doing their best to protect the Rod by keeping the Tablet from Anor. We all saw them throw the Tablet into the river and it floated away.”
“Then Anor fell upon them,” Gelb said. “He took a boat and went after the Tablet.”
Silence fell as the men wept openly. More people emerged from the trees at the base of the canyon wall, joining in a tight bunch with Gelb and Dunon. A woman, her long, brown hair formed into a thick braid that hung over one shoulder, took in Lakhoni and his family. “That was three days ago,” she said. She turned to the tightly packed group of people, which was growing with every passing second. They all faced inward, with Gelb and Dunon at the center. Arms went around shoulders and waists and heads bent. Whispered words and muffled sobs lifted above the group of people. They stayed that way as more of their men and women appeared, adding to the growing circle of mourning.
It hurt to breathe. The open grief these people displayed was more than Lakhoni could bear. He tore his eyes away and motioned for his companions to start moving. Everyone turned and walked back toward the river’s edge, staying silent. All scrubbed hands or sleeves across their cheeks as they approached the boat that would carry them after Gadnar.
“They were a strange people,” Hilana said. “No weapons at all? No warriors?”
Simra sniffled and cleared her throat. “Isn’t that what we’re doing this for? To stop evil? Bring peace?”
Lamorun grunted. “Yes.” He led the way across the stone jetty to the boat. He nodded. “We fight for peace. For safety. But I will never bury my blade.”
Lakhoni gave his brother’s muscled shoulder a squeeze. “So that others can live in peace.”
“Exactly this,” Alronna said. “Not all must fight evil. But some will always be ready to go to battle for the benefit of others.” She met Lakhoni’s gaze. “This is the world as it needs to be.”
Lakhoni waited until the other four were settled into the boat, oars in hand and packs settled on the wide floor. He untied the rope and pushed the wooden vessel away from the jetty. The river current caught them immediately. As he picked up an oar, he looked back toward the village and cliff walls the Keepers of the Rod had been hiding in. For generations they had kept the Rod of Lukoz safe, but hadn’t ever possessed it. A map on a wood tablet was all they’d had. Then Gadnar had showed up and destroyed lives.
Lamorun was already using his oar to keep the small boat clear of shallow rocks. The others all rowed, despite the strong river current. Lakhoni dipped his oar in the water and added his own strength to the river’s force. The hunt was on and Gadnar would not slip away this time.
The boat carried them rapidly downstream and the canyon walls widened with each mile they traveled. Lakhoni and his companions had their hands full using the oars to steer the boat around rapidly approaching rocks.
“Do you think he found the tablet thing they were talking about?” Hilana knelt in the bottom of the boat, back braced against the seat board for leverage. She leaned forward and pushed against a nearby partly submerged boulder to straighten the back end of the boat as it raced through a portion of the river full of rocks and white water. She had to shout to be heard over the rushing water battering itself against the rocks.
“No way of knowing,” Alronna said.
“What I don’t understand,” Lakhoni’s arms and back were growing tired of all the contorting necessary to use his oar to keep the boat safe, “is what Corzon said back at Simra’s village about the Rod’s power.” He grunted as he shoved against an oncoming rock.
“About it giving the holder power to raise an army?” Alronna asked. She paddled rapidly, helping keep the boat on track. “They said something similar.”
She indicated upstream, clearly meaning the people they’d just left.
“Yes,” Lakhoni said. “Does that mean it will give the holder some kind of authority people will recognize and then they’ll just join his army?”
“Sounds like it,” Alronna said.
“But who would join an army with Gadnar at its head?”
“It’s getting worse!” Lamorun knelt at the front of the boat, his long arms powerfully deflecting the boat from the bigger rocks.
The river’s current grew stronger and the boat shot forward and twisted to the left, tipping wildly. Everyone focused on keep the boat upright and floating. Lakhoni’s oar was splintering from hitting rocks and he felt sure he had several splinters in his hands.
“Up front!” Lamorun shouted. Hilana was the closest and she dove next to Lamorun. The two of them reached hard and only just kept the front point of the boat from smashing into a huge stone that loomed out of the water. But this made the boat wobble and turn to the right. Lakhoni paddled hard, trying to straighten the vessel.
Another stone seemed to practically shoot up from the river and slammed into the right side of the boat, making it lurch even more. “Hold on!” Lakhoni shouted. His companions struck out with their oars, paddling and pushing at nearby rocks. The turning craft suddenly struck another stone. It tipped and rolled the other direction.
Simra toppled out, screaming and flailing for the side of the boat as she plunged into the rushing water.
“Simra!” Lakhoni lunged for her hand, but she disappeared under the water. “Help her!” His desperate cry caught the attention of the others and they jerked around. “Simra fell in!”
Alronna, on the other side of the boat, immediately plunged her oar into the water and paddled backward, trying to slow the vessel. “Where?”
Lakhoni scoured the water, looking for Simra’s long dark hair or brown clothes. Nothing. “Simra!”
Red Prince Page 14
