by Katy Winter
"Can you do this?" he asked, his brow furrowed.
"I don't honestly know, Dase. Ensore thinks I can. We'll pray he's right."
"And if you don't persuade this - Ustomi, is it? - what then?"
"I'll move further north again to Taki. It is the main city of Sushi, a large dukedom, where Ensore's sister resides as the guest of Nakron. I'd have to go there irrespective of the Cartokians, but I must admit I'd no idea the Dakhilan had commercial interests so far north. Because Sushi has a large standing army it's my task to persuade them to come to our support. They must be told the warlord will deal with them as he's dealt with everybody else. It'll be no easy task, Dase, but I'll do all I can."
"Their armies would be a great help."
"Aye, Dase, we need all the help we can get. They're all so much better equipped to confront the warlord than we were. We were so easy to conquer. We even naively thought we could talk reason to a man like Lodestok."
"Won't these other people too?" Sarehl shook his head.
"No, Dase, not after they clearly understand the state of much of central and southern Ambros. They'll be forced to make a stand one way or the other, with or without us. Their lack of trust between each other in the north may, unbelievably, be of value to them now, because they don't need to start from nothing to create an army as we do. Mistrust from long ago led them to have fortified towns and cities. Whatever happens, I have to go north to tell the rulers there of the power of the Churchik advance."
Sarehl looked keenly at his brother, seeking the rare signs of the boy. When the boy wept, his older brother saw the child of two cycles ago and instinctively responded as he'd done with each of his brothers and sister in Ortok. And Daxel responded as the child from Ortok, but only for that brief moment of grief. Usually these days the only boyishness in Daxel was in the eagerness, the occasional bubbling excitement, the flashing and endearing grin and the outbursts of laughter. In repose, the young face was set with hardness to the eyes and mouth. Too old too soon, thought Sarehl inwardly, recognising the condition in himself as well.
His thoughts were broken by Daxel saying, "Must you go so far away?"
"Yes, little brother, we believe I must."
"Why must it be you?"
"Dear boy, I can't fight, and anyway people about us seem to think I can be an ambassador for our cause." Sarehl paused, then he gave a spontaneous laugh. "Ensore thinks I'll make an excellent envoy. He's even given me an old southern title to help me along."
"Has he? What is it?"
"Strategos." Sarehl ruffled Daxel's hair affectionately. "Means as little to you as it does to me, Dase. Well, Ensore thinks it'll help my cause because these states are as keen on protocol as Ensore's own."
"He's a king, isn't he?"
"Sort of," admitted Sarehl. "Though," he added ruminatively, with a gleam in his eye, "I think he'd prefer not to be."
"I'd hate it," said Daxel flatly. "His guard's always around him, or not far away, and they defer to him in everything."
"As you'll do, little brother." Daxel heard the note of caution and lifted his chin a little. He looked speculatively at Sarehl.
"Is that an order, Sar?" Sarehl took one of the boy's hands in his and gripped it very hard.
"Yes, Dase, it is."
"Oh well," responded Daxel, his eyes not holding that uncomfortable stare from Sarehl. "I was going to anyway. I think if I disobeyed Ensore he wouldn't hesitate to beat me."
"Possibly," murmured Sarehl, his eyes warm now with amusement. There was a long silence.
Daxel broke it, saying hesitantly, "Ensore told me about Bethel, Sar." Sarehl didn't answer. "He's alive, big brother. Doesn't that make you feel better?" Looking across at Daxel with a tight smile, Sarehl forced himself to respond suitably.
"Of course it does, lad, though slavery is something I hate to see inflicted on any of you."
"Are all the warlord's prisoners slaves, Sar?"
"Most of them, lad, yes."
More questions followed, mainly in connection with their younger brother, until Sarehl managed to reassure Daxel on anything the boy thought to ask concerning Bethel. Then Sarehl steered Daxel on to a less distressing topic by asking him which horse he was being given to ride. The next while was spent agreeably by Daxel chattering about horses, the guards, and especially about Eli. Sarehl watched and listened, ruefully accepting that circumstances had forced the boy to outgrow his elder brother to some extent. Daxel wanted to be a fighter and he wanted to be among men who were. The boy liked Eli and worshipped Ensore, so, thought Sarehl wearily, as long as they were his models, Daxel couldn't go wrong.
When Daxel paused, Sarehl said quietly, "I may be able to find Brue as I travel north. Had you thought of that?"
"Do you think you will?"
"I'm hopeful of finding him somewhere in one of the orphan camps, Dase, because I'll pass close to a few, where you won't. The little fellow's been on his own for two cycles. I wonder if he'll even recognise me?"
"Course he will," said Daxel roughly, glancing involuntarily at the scar lining Sarehl's face. "You must tell Ensore if you do get him," he persisted, "so he can tell me."
"Certainly I would, Dase. You'd be the first to know." Sarehl observed Daxel closely and added, "Let him go, Dase, you did all you could for him. Let your conscience rest at ease. You got him to safety, so you've nothing to blame yourself for."
Daxel fixed his eyes on his brother's face and said distinctly, "Neither, Sar, have you, even though you think you have."
Sarehl met those dark eyes, so like his own, and was momentarily bereft of words. He knew exactly what Daxel was saying, and Daxel knew he did. They stared long at each other, before both looked away at the same instant.
"You're growing up very fast, little brother," commented Sarehl gently.
"As Eli says, Sar, strange times."
"And Lute, Dase?" Sarehl asked very quietly.
"Nothing of late, or not since that awful physical agony that cramped me so badly." Daxel stopped and wiped a rush of tears from his eyes. "I'm glad you were all here for me, because I truly thought Lute was dying then. I know he wanted to. I felt he was so cold and in such pain. I sensed ice around and through him."
"I'm so sorry for you, lad," whispered Sarehl, putting his arm about the thin shoulders. "If you have any faith, Dase, hold to it as I do." Daxel's voice was forlorn.
"Sometimes I feel Lute's being dragged farther and farther away from me and that I wasn't born a twin at all. There's a lonely darkness that's part of me. It will stay forever, wherever he is. I'll keep calling to him, Sar, until I die."
Sarehl gathered his brother close and they stayed that way for a very long time.
~~~
Next morning the riders worked quickly and efficiently, so camp was broken very speedily. Provisions were packed, saddlebags were full, blankets were rolled and already tied onto heavily-built packhorses and waggons were fully laden. The fire, well nigh dead, was thoroughly and repeatedly doused and stamped. The men were armed and ready, already on horseback. The four foresters stood a little to one side, Arth holding two extra sets of reins with his own.
Daxel, after waking late, rushed an early meal, and, full of nervous energy, darted here and there doing Ongwin's bidding. Released, he strode up and down, then finally wandered off into the spinney. It was there Sarehl found him a short time later.
"So this is a temporary farewell, little brother."
Daxel didn't speak, his eyes eloquent and dewy as he strode forward and wrapped his long arms about Sarehl in a deeply felt embrace.
"Look after yourself, Sar."
"Likewise, Dase," said Sarehl softly.
Few words were exchanged, before the brothers linked arms and moved out from the spinney. Ensore watched them approach, appreciative of the handsome pair they made. Despite one's pronounced limp they could almost be clones, he thought, with the same curly dark hair and the same black eyes that could switch from one emotion to another, as change
able as the seasons and winds of Ambros. There was more maturity in one tall figure and that man was paler too. Daxel's face may have been younger but there was little youth in it. No one could doubt these were brothers. Ensore stepped forward.
"Be mounted, lad, we're ready and more to go. Did you check you have everything?" Daxel looked shyly at him.
"Yes, I have all I need."
"More hand-me-down clothes, you poor lad?" Daxel nodded with a rather resigned smile. He'd not had new clothes since Ortok and knew it was highly unlikely he would. Ensore ruffled his head and smiled understandingly. "Not easy for the young, Dase, we know. On your horse then."
Looking back at Sarehl, Daxel hesitated. Sarehl smiled and indicated the horse one of the guards held for his brother. Daxel mounted and got himself settled. Ensore turned to look long and gravely at Sarehl.
"We've said all that's necessary, haven't we?" he said quietly.
"Yes, Ens, we have."
"Until we see each other again then." In response, Sarehl held out his hands. Ensore grasped them for a moment, then turned and crossed to his horse, thanking Terrin who held the warhorse steady. Once mounted, Ensore glanced down, the smile back in his eyes. "Don't let Kaleb bully you too much, will you?"
"Certainly not." Sarehl smiled up at the forester. "Ride well and be careful. There are enemies all about."
Giving a hand signal to his men, Ensore kneed his horse gently forward. Daxel fell in between Eli and Qual and the troop moved slowly out of the clearing and into the forest.
Kaleb gently pushed Sarehl towards one of the horses Arth held. He and Arth carefully helped Sarehl into the saddle, then Kaleb mounted the second horse Arth held and gave the signal to move. He looked across at Sarehl. Seeing the grim set to the young mouth, he drew his horse closer.
"The boy will be well taken care of," he said in an undertone.
"I know," whispered Sarehl. "I know."
~~~
Kaleb called frequent halts as the six of them rode directly northwards. The foresters didn't mind, the leisurely pace set suiting their indolent humour. None of them had been on long, gruelling riding spells for some time and with the weather becoming steadily hotter by the day, they enjoyed the respites Kaleb regularly called for. They all acknowledged Sarehl couldn't stay in the saddle for sustained periods, although even that skill improved as the weeks passed.
Kaleb kept a close watch on Sarehl. For the first few weeks Sarehl needed help to dismount, but now got off without assistance. More often than not Sarehl would admit his hip troubled him; he knew if he avoided the truth Kaleb would know anyway. He never argued when the healer gave him a drink.
The heat became unrelenting and the air was still in the forest. When there was an occasional breath of wind it was welcome. Where the forest opened out, the riders urged their horses from a walk so they could reach the dappled shelter of the trees as soon as possible. Whenever they came to a stream, there would be a jangling of harness and bridles as the riders drew up and dismounted in a hurry, taking themselves and the animals to the edge to drink.
In the evenings no one bothered to pitch tents. It was so warm all the men were content to lounge under the trees and also to sleep there. Nor did they make a fire. Mostly they ate cold meat or salted fish and biscuits. They drank ale or water.
As the days passed, Sarehl found a renewed sense of peace. His strength and stamina increased and his skin had a healthy glow from being in the sun. Kaleb watched him with quiet satisfaction, aware of the man's increasing inner quietude where before he knew Sarehl, when in solitude, only experienced anguish and very deep anger. The healer knew how delighted Ensore would be.
Six weeks after they began the trek north, Sarehl turned his head to speak to Kaleb who rode to his left.
"Did Dase ever speak to you of Lute?" he asked. "You never spoke of it, and I hesitated to ask Dase in case it upset him too much. I always waited for him to say anything." Kaleb looked up enquiringly when Sarehl spoke and nodded. "What came of your discussion?"
"Not a great deal," said the healer calmly. "I wish I could have helped Dase more, but twins aren't easy to work with when they've been so brutally and ruthlessly torn apart."
"Could you read nothing of Lute at all?" Kaleb fiddled with his reins. "You could, couldn't you?"
"Oh yes, I can read he's alive as I've told you before," replied Kaleb indifferently. "He's still alive, that hasn't changed." Sarehl's eyes brightened, but at Kaleb's next words the sparkle died. "What I didn't tell you, my friend, is that Luton's part of a slave caravan going south to Churchik lands. What I can't tell you, is how the lad is."
Kaleb looked carefully at Sarehl and noticed his friend was preoccupied with his own thoughts. The healer felt relief and said no more. He hadn't told Daxel anything at all and felt it would be injudicious and serve no purpose to tell Sarehl all he knew. He'd read considerably more than merely finding a boy in a caravan. He found himself in a devastated mind where numbing horror and terror kept any other emotions so repressed, Kaleb could sense nothing. He found little reason in Luton's mind and sensed such absolute subjection, the healer wondered if the boy had actually become mindless. He knew Luton was mute. He simply couldn't penetrate Luton's rigid barrier of rejection of what the boy saw and experienced, nor could the boy reach out or respond in any way. Kaleb now knew why even Luton's twin couldn't touch him. It grieved the healer for them both.
A season before, Kaleb called to a more skilled practitioner than himself, advising where he was going and why. When he mentioned he still had the company of Sarehl there was an abrupt silence, before he was sharply told to remain with the young man at all times and to make sure the twin brother was carefully watched and protected. He was to remain in touch with Daxel, through Ensore. His news of Luton elicited no immediate comment.
After the link was cut, Kaleb was left very thoughtful. It was clear his priority was to get Sarehl to safety, certainly physical safety, some distance from the warlord's advancing army. Daxel, too, was to be removed from actual physical danger. Kaleb's information about Luton was accepted with interest, but he was also told he was to make no further attempt to contact the boy or read him. Puzzled, Kaleb responded suitably.
He was thinking about that now as he let Sarehl ride ahead on his own. After a mile or so Sarehl reined back and let his horse fall in next to Kaleb's. Kaleb waited, letting Sarehl speak first. He did so in a subdued voice.
"Did you tell Dase?"
"Would you have wanted me to?" countered Kaleb.
"No," admitted Sarehl. "You didn't, did you?"
"I saw no reason to add to the boy's already considerable distress. I just agreed that Luton's alive, aye: Dase knows that. I also told him I couldn't penetrate his twin's mind and that's no lie. I can't." Sarehl stroked his beard.
"You can sense nothing else?"
"Not of any real significance, my friend, no."
He saw Sarehl give him a long speculative look and again wondered if Sarehl had a touch of sight. There was an uncanny perceptiveness to the man that Ensore had commented on several times.
"Why do I feel you're not being fully open with me, Kaleb?"
"You'll be told when I have anything to tell you," chided Kaleb, in a measured voice. Sarehl accepted the rebuke without a word. Kaleb stared at him for a moment, then leaned across and tapped the tall man on the shoulder. "I have your interest very much at heart, Sarehl. I too seek answers."
"I know," sighed Sarehl wearily.
Kaleb reined in, saying quietly, "There's nothing we can do for Lute, other than be thankful the lad's alive and pray that he remains so. You must accept that I, too, have limitations." Sarehl slipped from the saddle.
"I don't believe you have limitations." Sarehl stretched one leg, then another.
"We all have them," observed Kaleb, as he dismounted. "That's a universal law. Any man who believes otherwise is a fool. It's unwise to set oneself up as a god."
"I hadn't thought of it that way," observ
ed Sarehl, stroking his horse's nose as they waited for the foresters to pull up beside them. Kaleb looked surprised.
"Everything, my young friend, has a beginning and an ending. Even the most powerful have weaknesses and limitations, whether they accept that's so or not."
Ambrosian Chronicles
Third Age
11207
Information concerning sons we seek has lately come to our attention. News has taken some time to reach us, but we now know Sarehl, eldest son, travels with a healer from the Conclave. They're currently in northern Ambros. The young man's an integral part of what we hope will be a newly-formed and developing army that will, in time, we're told, confront the warlord's southern army. As further news is relayed to us, be sure I'll chronicle it immediately.
With this newly forming northern army goes yet another son, a twin by name, Daxel. He travels, from all accounts, with a large body of troops from Dahkilah. We've made our wishes, concerning the brothers, known to the Conclave who advise us they'll fulfil our wishes.
Third Age
11207
We wish to confirm the whereabouts of another son - Luton. This boy is part of a slave caravan that, at this moment, wends its way beyond the Dakhilah passes, south of what was once the Samar Confederation, and towards Churchik land. The boy travels as a warrior's slave.
We're distressed by the state of this boy's mind and have advised the Mishtok that action on this child's behalf has some urgency. Unfortunately, there are no reader-seekers near the boy.
The Archmage is seriously disturbed by this. He says little, but Elucien tells us that the Archmage fears we may be too late. This confuses us, as we don't understand why this should be.
CHAPTER FORTY
Lodestok stared contemplatively at Jaden, a hand as of habit stroking his lush moustache and then slipping to idly fiddle with one of his necklaces. He lounged back in his chair. His free hand toyed with the full goblet that rested on the arm of the chair.
"Go on," he said quietly, his eyes searching the healer's face in a scrutiny that made Jaden summon all his control. The warlord observed the nervous gesture of a boot scuffing the earth, but he made no comment.
