SoJourner

by Voigt, Janalyn

  A splash sounded from within the cave.

  Eathnor looked over the edge. “They way I see it, we’ve but two choices.”

  How did he manage to sound so calm? Rand sighed. “I can guess what’s coming.”

  “Defend ourselves or jump.”

  “Only the best fighters become welke riders.” Rand reminded him.

  “There are two of us.”

  “Both wounded.”

  Eathnor jutted out his chin, a gesture made less impressive by his pallor. The tracker’s courage could not be plainer, but he could have no idea of the resilience of a welke rider in hand combat. Rand knew. He had witnessed their training.

  They only had one option, and he wouldn’t argue about it with a strong-headed tracker half-dead on his feet. Eathnor trusted him, more or less, a fact that might make this easier. In a move Rand had found useful in confrontations with Draeg, he darted behind the tracker and shoved him off balance.

  Eathnor lost his sword over the side and, flailing, followed it into the pool. His head bobbed up again, and he swam toward the edge.

  Rand hesitated at the drop. He could wish for someone to push him over, too.

  The welke rider stepped into the light, all the goad he needed. He cast his sword over the edge and launched himself into the air. The fall seemed to take a long time, but then he struck the surface with a blow that set fire to his injured arm. Water closed over his head, and he sank for a long time into the cold darkness that rose to meet him. Wrenching himself free of the malais that gripped him, he pushed toward the surface. His surcoat held him down. His lungs burned, screaming for air, and still he did not gain the surface. He could see the light of day above him, tantalizingly near but too far.

  27

  INJURY

  Elcon halted his pacing and composed himself before turning to greet his visitors. Kai’s flared nostrils betrayed his fear, and the face of Dorann’s father, Jost, drooped with sorrow.

  “Lof Shraen.” Kai straightened out of a bow. “We found Dorann alive but injured.”

  “What happened to him? How did you find him? Where is he now?” Elcon paused to draw breath.

  Kai opened his mouth but hesitated as if uncertain how to respond.

  Elcon reined in his impatience and made the inquiry that mattered most. “Will he recover?”

  Kai spread his hands, palms up. “None can say but Lof Yuel. Praectal Daelic tends him, now.”

  Jost cleared his throat. He stood square and strong, an older version of his sons. “Lof Shraen, if I may speak—“

  “Yes, yes.” Elcon came to stand before him. “Give me the tale at once.”

  “I found my son in the mountains and carried him back on my pony. He’d been mauled by a shaycat.”

  Elcon tried to imagine Dorann bested by any creature and couldn’t. “But he seems so capable, especially in the woods.”

  “Even the strongest of trackers is no match for a shaycat. They move about, silent as ghosts, hungry for prey. It’s a wonder Dorann lived. Had he not bound his own wounds before fainting, I doubt he would have.”

  Elcon clasped his hands behind his back. “Did he speak of Emmerich?”

  Jost scrunched one of his eyes. “The name passed his lips more than once while he was delirious. I couldn’t understand what he said.”

  Elcon tamped down his frustration. “You’ll want food and drink and a comfortable bed.”

  “My thanks, Lof Shraen. However, I must leave my son in the care of the good praectal and return home for his mother. Erinae will want to know at once what’s become of her son and to join me at his side.”

  “Of course.” Elcon inclined his head. “You can both stay here at Torindan as long as necessary.”

  As the tracker’s father departed, Elcon strode to the window. He gazed at the fitful clouds of a gathering rainstorm. “I should go to Dorann.”

  “He may not be able to tell you what you wish to know.” Kai spoke from behind him.

  “Agreed, but I want to pay my respects. Dorann lies at death’s door because of my stubbornness.”

  “Will you blame yourself for this?”

  “Who else? I didn’t like what Emmerich told me, and so I returned a demand in the guise of a supplication and sent Dorann into danger for nothing.”

  “As you said, he seemed capable,” Kai said in an unsteady voice.

  Elcon laid a hand on Kai’s arm. “Come with me to his bedside. The presence of friends may lend him the strength to rally.”

  

  The pain in Rand’s body told him he hadn’t died. From the hardness of a saddle swaying beneath him and the chafing of the bonds contraining him, he must be tied across a horse. Had he been captured? He opened his eyes, but at the dizzying sight of the path sliding by, closed them again. Blackness sucked him down in a whirlpool.

  The ping of a hoof against stone roused him. He pried his eyes open and turned his head.

  A familiar figure rode ahead, leading the horse that carried him.

  “Eathnor.” His voice came too softly, and he gathered the strength to call again.

  Eathnor glanced back at him. “So, you wake at last. Hold on.” He turned off the path toward the river.

  Rand’s horse stumbled, and he gritted his teeth against the pain in his shoulder. “Why did you tie me?” he asked when his horse came to a stop.

  “Sorry, but I thought you might slide off.” Eathnor dismounted.

  Rand frowned in concentration, casting back in memory. “What happened?”

  “Do you recall pushing me off that cliff and jumping yourself?”

  “Yes, but why am I alive? I thought I drowned.”

  “You did, but I fished you out and revived you. Do you remember vomiting water?”

  “Thankfully, no. And the welke rider?”

  “He decided not to jump.” Doran worked at Rand’s bonds. “I found another cave to hide in, just in case he came calling.”

  “How long did I sleep?”

  “Most of the day. I hid until I was sure the welke rider had given up, and then moved on. I’d have let you rest longer, but the wind carries the sound of marching. Forces from Pilaer aren’t far behind.”

  Draeg would no doubt ride among them. The cord around Rand’s waist gave, and he slid until his feet touched the ground. His legs supported him, but he held onto the saddle while his head cleared. “We need to reach Torindan soon.”

  “It’s almost nightfall, but we should continue after watering the horses. We’re better off traveling by dark anyway.”

  The subdued light could have belonged to dawn or dusk. Rand pushed away from the saddle to stand alone.“Careful there.” Eathnor put out a steadying hand. “You’ll be weak.”

  “I’m all right.” Rand spoke with bravado, but he didn’t pull away from the tracker’s support. “Thank you for saving my life.”

  “You did the same for me.”

  “You tended my arm, I see. Have you dressed your own wounds as well?”

  “I have. My brother, Dorann, has more skill at healing, but I know a little something, too. I made a poultice of greenings for our wounds. It should draw away poisons.”

  “You captured the horses, too.”

  Eathnor laughed. “That wasn’t difficult with the lush grass in a side canyon distracting them. Speaking of food…” He pulled a packet of dried fish from Rand’s saddlebag and passed it to him. “Try to eat while I see to the horses.”

  “I’m thirsty.”

  Eathnor untied the thongs securing Rand’s water bottle to the saddle. “Swallow the rest of that and I’ll fill it again.”

  Rand drained the bottle and wiped his mouth with his arm. “Thanks, but I can fill it myself.”

  Eathnor grinned. “You’re recovering.”

  Rand’s legs shook as he followed Eathnor over a small hillock and down to the banks of the weild. A log afforded him a place to rest and with his appetite recovered, he tore into the dried fish.

  The bank behind Eathno
r slanted into the weild at a gentle angle. The surface shone like glass and the pebbles below it glowed like gemstones. The horses waded to their knees and flicked their ears as they lowered their heads. A fish jumped and splashed while the blue dragonfly that had been its quarry darted away on gossamer wings.

  Rand would have liked to linger, but they needed to press on. With his hunger sated, he refilled his bottle. He turned back to find Eathnor with an intent look on his face. Rand opened his mouth to ask what was wrong.

  The thud of approaching hoofbeats reached his ears.

  

  Elcon curved his hands into fists. It had been a long time since he’d felt this helpless. Dorann lay still, bandages covering the side of his head, a shoulder, and his arm.

  From the other side of the bed, Kai gazed down at his stricken friend.

  “I’ve given him a draught, Lof Shraen. He’ll not wake.” Praectal Daelic spoke from the doorway of the guest chamber above the gatehouse.

  Elcon nodded. “Spare nothing to restore him.”

  “If that may be done, I will do it. He’s bled a lot, and his wounds gather poisons. He may not survive.”

  Elcon wished Daelic’s prognosis offered more hope. His shoulders slumped. “I’m certain you will care for him well.”

  “Thank you, Lof Shraen. That is my intent.” Daelic withdrew.

  Elcon had meant to stand watch over Dorann until his father returned, but now an urgent errand pressed him. “Kai, stay with him.”

  From the look on Kai’s face, he could not have assigned a more welcome task. Elcon studied the silent figure in the bed, and then pushed through the doorway into the torchlit corridor. His steps led him to the allerstaed, where moonlight slanted through the clerestory windows. “Lof Yuel!” His shout gathered echoes. “Tell me what I must do to turn your judgment from Dorann to me. Why should he be the one to pay for my guilt?”

  Silence.

  He knelt at the prayer rail and bowed his head in utter defeat.

  A quicksilver touch brushed his mind and withdrew, an island of comfort in a sea of grief. He rose and looked around, but the allerstaed kept its mysteries.

  

  Rand crawled through the grass swaying on top of the hillock above the weild. He drew his dagger, and beside him Eathnor did the same. They didn’t have long to wait.

  Two mounted figures garbed in the red and gold of the guardians of Pilaer hove into sight on the path. All birdsong stilled, leaving only the thump of hooves and huffing breaths of their horses. The riders scanned the terrain, one glancing straight at Rand.

  His spine tingled, and he crouched lower in the grass.

  The horsemen spurred their horses, and the thud of hooves faded.

  Rand sat up. “Who were they?”

  Eathnor came up beside him. “Advance scouts in search of the night’s camp, or else they search for us. In either case, the army won’t be far away.” He frowned. “I’d hoped for more distance.”

  “You’d travel quicker without me.” Rand stated the obvious truth. “You should leave me behind.”

  “I’ll not do that.” Eathnor shook his head.

  “Why not?”

  “Let’s just say you’ve grown on me. Come, we should be going. We’ll need to follow the banks of the weild and avoid the path as much as possible. Otherwise, if the scouts return this way tonight, we could meet them without warning.”

  Along the banks, travel came more slowly and finally stopped altogether. Boulders blocked the way in a place where the weild combed through rocks and formed rapids that made riding through the water too risky. They had little choice but to follow the path, but the sound of marching drove them back to the weild.

  Sunset blossomed above the canyons like a flower unfurling petals edged in gold. The night wind breathed through blackened keirkens that twisted as if bending to drink from shadowy pools.

  Rand came up beside Eathnor and joined him in surveying a bluff gilded by the sun’s dying rays. The water ran against its base, allowing neither Kindren nor beast to pass. “I suppose we’ll have to backtrack.”

  “More’s the pity.” Eathnor glanced at him. “You sound weary.”

  “Don’t concern yourself.” Rand sat taller in the saddle, although his eyes remained open only by an act of will.

  “We should reach Torindan by morning.”

  Was he really that close to Mara? Fresh energy surged into Rand. “Then, by all means, let us go on.”

  They found a place where the horses could gain the path by a steep climb.

  The sun went down but its glory lingered at the horizon. A full moon rose to light their way.

  Rand resigned himself to the arduous journey. They had little time left to reach Torindan. Whatever it cost him, he would not slow their progress.

  Eathnor motioned him to stop.

  Rand reined in his horse with frustration, and then he, too, heard the crackle of a fire and the voices rasping. Smoke wafted into the air. Had their way not been blocked by the bluff, they would have ridden into the scout’s camp. Lof Yuel must watch over them yet.

  Skirting the camp without being heard seemed an easy task, for the scouts, arguing in some sort of squabble, weren’t particularly quiet.

  Rand stiffened. One of the voices belonged to Draeg.

  28

  DAUGHTER AND HEIR

  “Father!” Mara’s cry wrenched Elcon from sleep. She bent over him, her forehead creased. “Why are you lying there? Are you ill?”

  “What?” He frowned. “I must have fallen asleep at the prayer rail.” The night had passed, and now faint light slanted into the allerstaed through the clerestory windows. He sat up and ran a hand over his face.

  “Tell me what troubles you.”

  “I shouldn’t rest my burdens on you.”

  “Even when I am willing to accept their weight?” She extended her hand to him.

  “I’m not convinced you should.” He pushed to his feet without her help.

  “But I am your daughter and heir!”

  Elcon smiled, but with a touch of sadness. In her fervor, she had never looked more like her mother. “I need no reminder.”

  “Then let the one comfort you and the other share in important matters.”

  He couldn’t hold out against his daughter’s pleading. “All right. You will know this in time, anyway. I’ve failed my people.”

  She stared at him. “Surely not.”

  He sighed. “How I wish that could be true.”

  “I can’t imagine your doing anything so terrible.”

  “It is what I failed to do that condemns me.” He pushed to his feet and reached out a hand to help her rise. “At the last siege of Torindan, the DawnKing sent by Lof Yuel had only to lift his arms to cast the enemy into darkness and confusion I wanted this new battle to end by the same means, but Emmerich refused to come at my call. Instead he instructed me to seek help from the one person I am loath to stand before.”

  “Who do you speak of, Father?”

  “Euryon of Westerland. He denied my entreaties in the past. Why should he listen to me when he has reason to despise me? I robbed him of his daughter.” He shook his head. “I didn’t want to humble myself and ask Aewen’s father for help, so I sent Dorann into peril for no good reason. Emmerich still won’t come but only repeats that I should send to Euryon for aid.”

  She touched his arm. “It’s not too late, then. Let me carry your message to Westerland.”

  He stared at her. She had a look of her mother in a strong mindset. “Why would you do that?”

  “Perhaps he will come at the request of his granddaughter.”

  “We are on the very eve of war. It’s far too dangerous.” He would not repeat the error in judgment that had taken Aewen’s life with his daughter.

  “I have pledged to serve the Kindren as Lof Raena of Faeraven. What is my safety in the face of that? Send Kai with me, along with an archer. I know I can do this.”

  “Such concern for Faerave
n is to your credit, but Euryon may not listen to you.”

  “He won’t hear me at all if I do not go.”

  “I will ponder the matter.”

  She arched her brows. “There’s no time for delay. You must decide at once.”

  “Faith, but you remind me of myself! But I’ll not rush a decision that puts your life at stake. Leave me now and let me take it to prayer.”

  She held her ground. “Let me stay and join my prayer with yours.”

  He touched her cheek. “You seem to have inherited the strongmindedness of both your parents. You may stay, but tell me why you are unaccompanied.”

  “I did not come alone but sent my maid away at the door so I might speak to you in privacy.”

  She was hiding something. “What brings you to the allerstaed so early?”

  She hesitated. “You may think my sanity in question.”

  “Go on.”

  “Sometimes it seems that souls…touch. Last night I felt your sorrow in this place and this morning followed it to you.”

  That explained the quicksilver touch that had comforted him. ”Is this what you fear I’ll call madness?”

  “Will you not?”

  “I have neglected to teach you of your heritage. Souls can and do touch, at least among the children of Rivenn.”

  “This is…normal?”

  “Within our family, yes. It is called the shil shael, the soul touch Lof Yuel gave to our ancestral father, Rivenn, when the garns held him captive in Caerric Daeft, the cavern of death. He used it to warn his family to escape. Afterwards, the shil shael passed to some, though not all, of his children. Don’t fear it, child. The shil shael is a blessing from Lof Yuel.”

  “Then I will not despise it, but at times it frightens me.”

  “By its own right, the soul touch is beautiful, but darkness can corrupt even a thing of beauty.”

  “I’ve sensed darkness.”

  “What do you mean?” He spoke more sharply than he’d intended.

  Her eyes flared. “Sometimes it’s as if evil itself has a soul that seeks to enter my mind.”

  “That is how Freaer intrudes. Whenever this happens, you must hide yourself in Lof Yuel.”

  “I have learned how to do that. The effort tires me, however.”