“It just struck me that maybe he was a little too friendly. How did he know we weren’t agents of the king trying to flush out Aristan’s believers?”
Mathias kept plodding but didn’t answer. Jarek retreated into himself, realizing that he needed to trust the leader. He probably knows better than I do.
Less than an hour later, a large house with several outlying buildings came into view. Mathias turned around. “That would appear to be our destination. Are you ready?”
Burns posed a previously unasked question, “Suppose she does agree to let you set up a blacksmithing business. You know nothing of the work. How are you going to get around that?”
“One thing at a time, Burnsie. One thing at a time. But, if you must know, I will try to find a good reason why the arrangement wouldn’t work. Perhaps her proposed share of the income will be too high for my purposes. I might suggest that the equipment is in poor repair and I don’t have the funds to bring it into operation. We must just wait and see what the visit brings. But, remember, our first objective is to gather information. So, whatever my objection to the business arrangements, they must come after some more general conversation.”
Burns shrugged and said nothing.
“If there is nothing else, then, we move.” Mathias turned and strode toward the house.
As they mounted the steps to the porch, the silence struck Jarek. Although, on reflection, it was probably to be expected from a residence occupied only by a widow.
Mathias knocked on the door and, while he waited for an answer, brushed dust from his clothes and straightened his hat.
The door opened to an unexpected host. A large man clad in mail armor and a tabard that Jarek had seen before, on king’s cavaliers, stood before them.
Mathias stepped back, bumping into Jarek and Burns. The Azyrean knew in that instant that they were in trouble. He turned to flee but found his way blocked as three more cavaliers rounded the side of the house and stood behind them.
The soldier who had answered the door eased out and moved to confront Mathias, their faces mere centimeters apart. “Well, what have we here?”
Chapter 40: Jarek
The three prisoners rode in a horse-drawn cart with their arms secured to the wooden railing behind them. By the time they’d been secured and made ready for transport, night had fallen. With no moon in the sky, the party—prisoners and their guards—traveled in relative darkness. If there was a bright spot, it was that the three rode alone in the cart. The guards marched alongside with the captain, who was mounted, riding in front. No one spoke to the trio. And as far as Jarek could tell, they did not speak among themselves.
With the coming of darkness, the temperature had fallen. The hood, which had produced a sickening heat and sweating for the Azyrean, now kept his head warm. Small blessings. For reasons unknown, the troop that had captured the three had not thought to pull the head covering back.
“Where are they taking us?” He kept his voice low, although he was pretty sure that he couldn’t be heard anyway. He had prepared himself, or so he thought, for the worst. From what he had heard of the king, Jarek’s preference would have been to be killed rather than captured. But he had no say in the matter.
“Maybe Mathias knows better than I, but I’d say we’re headed for the castle. If they wanted to kill us, they could have done that back at the house.” Burns’ voice seemed to be filled with resignation.
“Do you think they really know about us?” Jarek whispered this while he thought of his friends back at the rebel camp.
Mathias sighed. “I guess we’ll find out when we get there.”
Riding while bound in the back of a cart in the middle of the night provided little insight into the passage of time. It might have been two hours or eight—Jarek couldn’t tell. But it was still dark when they arrived at a large stone wall with a massive wooden gate. The cart rolled to a stop and the soldiers halted and snapped to attention.
“Unload the prisoners,” a loud voice commanded.
Two armored cavaliers hopped up into the cart and untied the three, shoving them toward the back where the retaining gate had been dropped. “Move it,” one of the two barked.
Jarek slid off the wagon and took his place beside Mathias and Burns. The individual that strode over to face them appeared to be an officer. His uniform looked deep red in the subdued light of the torches. Brass buttons lined the front and an ornate sword hung at his side. He glared down at Jarek. “You, child, remove that hood.”
Mathias intervened with the practiced story about the rare skin condition. “If you please, sir, I only say this for your own safety. His condition is extremely contagious. And it is also incurable. Whatever trouble we have landed in would only be compounded if your good men here were to contract this same disorder.”
The man narrowed his eyes. “A likely story.” But instead of pushing the issue, he turned away, speaking to the leader of the company of guards. “Have they been searched?”
“Yes, Commander. They had the usual. The man carried a one-hander and the woman a knife. Nothing out of the ordinary.”
“Very well. Take them to the sergeant of the guard. They are to be confined in the lower level of the north dungeon until such time they can be interrogated.”
Mathias again stepped forward. “If I may be so bold as to ask, what is our crime? I am a smith looking for work. We come from the south, fleeing heat and locusts, trying to find a new life near Ebon Lake. We have done no wrong.”
The officer spun around to face the trio. “You will find out soon enough. I would offer you this advice, a bit of kindness, if you will. When the confessor comes to speak with you, hold nothing back. Be honest and forthcoming. To do otherwise would only bring you pain and suffering.”
“But sir—”
“Silence.” The commander nodded to some soldiers. “Take them and be quick about it.”
◆◆◆
The three of them were put into the same cell, which was very small and prevented them from all lying down at the same time. There was room for one of them to recline if the others sat and scrunched up. “I’ll sit for a while. Burns, why don’t you try to get some sleep.” The Azyrean couldn’t imagine being able to sleep himself. At least they were all together, though, and were able to communicate quietly with each other.
Mathias, appearing as calm and collected as Jarek had ever seen him, gazed lazily around the cell, through the bars, and out into the dank, smelly dungeon area. “Not the best accommodations that I’ve ever had, but then again, I’ve seen worse.”
It was at that moment that Jarek truly understood the lives of the rebels. Mathias’ and Burns’ reactions to their imprisonment appeared to be ones of mere patience. The man surveyed the area outside their cell while the young woman examined the bars, the door, and what appeared to be the locking mechanism.
Jarek failed to see the usefulness in their study if that’s what they were truly doing. The prisoners had been blindfolded as they were brought down. So even if they managed to get out of the cell, they had no way of knowing how to get out of the dungeon, which was, no doubt, well-guarded. “So, what do we do now?”
Mathias chuckled. “What would you like to do? I’m open to suggestions.”
“You’re the leader. I’m supposed to follow your lead. You’re the one who’s supposed to come up with solutions.” Jarek fired back with no small amount of acrimony.
“I would be more than happy to find these… solutions. Unfortunately, I fear that there are none to be found, at least not in our current environs. As you can see, we have no tools or weapons. We are confined behind these bars which, as far as I can tell, are quite solid. There are no guards within earshot, so we cannot even try to talk them into releasing us, which would be foolish anyway.” He smiled and shook his head. “I am afraid that our best course of action is to conserve our strength and be prepared for any opportunity that may present itself. If none does, then we must accept that our end may be near.”
Jarek frowned. “Comforting.”
Burns stretched out, her hands interlaced behind her head. “Let him be, Jarek. We knew the risks. There is nothing he can do at the moment. We might perish here. But if we are to survive, by some miracle, we must be ready to act together. We can’t descend into squabbles.”
“Humph.” Jarek sat, his knees to his chest and his arms wrapped around them.
Chapter 41: Marzi
“This is it? The crossroads?” The group having arrived, the object of their pursuit seemed underwhelming to Marzi. She searched for something important, significant, or even notable but came up empty. The narrow, little-used path they had been following appeared to split into two even less traveled trails. “This is all there is?”
Saryn smiled. “What were you expecting, a village?” He dropped his pack beneath a tree and went about surveying the immediate area.
“I don’t know. More than this, I guess.”
“This is the crossroads. The trail on the right leads north into the Stormhill Wilds. We will take the left path farther west and then north into the Quel’dethain Mountains.” He continued to pace around the perimeter of the clearing. “Let us gather some firewood and at the same time search for the clothing caches.”
Marzi found her way over to Rys, who sorted through her pack taking out wrapped food for the evening meal. “What will you do? I mean, when you leave here tomorrow?”
“We shall take the trail into the wilds and trust that we will know our destination when we see it.” Ryshara barely looked up as she responded.
“Will you have to build a house or something?”
“I know not. We will find out when we get there, I suppose.” Sadness touched the words.
The treatment of her friends by Ariessa and the Bough still disturbed Marzi. Seeing this place up close made it all the worse. No one in Pangrove would ever be forced to go out into the wilds and live away from their family.
Abruptly, Rys set her pack aside. “Marzi, I have not asked you before, but what is it that you are doing, and why?”
Marzi glanced over at Elle, who rummaged in her pack, seemingly oblivious to the emerging conversation. Ryshara’s question hung in the air. Any attempt to respond, even in the most general of ways, would only invite more inquiry. It seemed that there was no way to give a partial or vague answer. What was she doing and why? The answer, of course, is that she was attempting to bring all of the elves together to face the danger threatening this world.
The absurdity of that notion struck the young Azyrean. After all, this wasn’t even her world. And Valyn was not her god or goddess or whatever she was. None of this had anything to do with her. Except that somehow it did. She couldn’t tell Ryshara anything… could she? Valyn had not prohibited it. She only urged caution. Maybe this was supposed to be the time. “Let’s get our camp set up and the fire started. Tonight, I’ll tell you all that I know.”
◆◆◆
Marzi sat huddled next to the fire, transfixed by the flickering light. For the past hour, she had been trying to put the words together. If Valyn had any advice, she kept it to herself.
Saryn’s voice cut through the sound of the crackling logs. “You said you have something to tell us. But before you do, I would like to ask you a couple of questions. We all know and understand this present danger of the humans and the need for the elves to come together to combat them, but I am wondering why you are here, Marzi. I am trying to make sense of it. Exactly what connection do you have with all of this and what role do you play on this journey?”
The others sat in a semi-circle facing Marzi. Before Marzi could respond, Ellemareth added her two-cents’ worth. “Yes, and I also have a question. The three of us—Ryshara, Ran, and I—have been banished. I offer no complaint about that, but how, Marzi, did you manage to avoid consequences for your actions given that you precipitated this entire sequence of events?”
“Yes, well… as a matter of fact, I do have something to tell everyone, and I hope that my revelation will, at the same time, answer all your questions.” She took a big breath and swallowed, trying to ease the dryness in her throat. “I’ve told this only to Saige and Empress Ariessa. And to be truthful with you, I’m still trying to make sense of it myself.” And with that, she launched into her account about Valyn. The others watched without comment, although Marzi could guess their thoughts by the expressions on their faces.
Ryshara’s face reflected growing concern as she listened. She sat with her hands squeezed between her knees. With her gaze, she seemed to search Marzi’s heart. Her mouth drew into a tight line. The appearance of concern changed to one of alarm.
By contrast, Elle conveyed disbelief bordering on scorn. Marzi was certain that the young elf rolled her eyes and shook her head, although the light of the fire between the two obscured details.
Ran seemed distracted. His head turned from time to time, as though he was expecting someone or something to step out of the forest. Even when he looked at her, he seemed unconcerned about Marzi’s tale.
Saryn, much like his mother, exuded suspicion. His eyes narrowed as he sat deathly still.
Marzi turned her attention to Arien, the daughter of the empress. She alone seemed engaged. Her eyes lit up as she nodded her head from time to time. The young woman clasped her hands together in front of her and leaned forward, as though hanging onto Marzi’s every word.
The young Azyrean turned her attention to Elle. “And to answer your specific question, Empress Ariessa did confront me about my actions. After hearing my explanation, she decided to let me journey to see the frost elves. But she did make clear the gravity of my behavior. When my task is finished, I, like you, must face the consequences of my decisions.”
When she finished recounting all she knew, the crackling fire was the only sound to be heard. Her five companions stared at her, as though waiting for something to make it all real. Or perhaps an admission that it was all a joke. Marzi lowered her gaze and waited.
Lapis, lying beside Ryshara, stood, stretched, and crept over to Marzi. The noble wolf’s muzzle sought the young Azyrean’s hand and then he sat on his haunches beside her. In contrast to the others, he seemed perfectly at ease with her revelation. Her gaze sought out his, and in his eyes, she saw that he knew—she was right—he had been a witness and, thus, had known all along.
Ryshara’s voice broke the impasse. “Why have you not told us this before?” The tone conveyed concern and a desire to believe accompanied by doubts.
“As I told you, Valyn cautioned me about this. And it is true. Now that I have told you, I cannot untell you. Now that you know, you cannot unknow it. I assume it was for this reason that she warned me. This, of course, along with the fact that some of you believe me, some do not, and you may not trust me anymore. But there it is.” Despite the awkwardness, Marzi felt as though a gigantic weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
Elle’s retort came as no surprise, though. “I told you we should have left her in the forest.”
Ran burst into laughter as he shrugged. “Actually, it makes perfect sense. After all, look at her. She is the size of a medium rat and has no survival or fighting skills. And yet she has fought and survived. Whatever danger stalks her, she ends up unscathed. It’s as though someone, perhaps a god, is watching over her.”
Saryn’s questions came across as more serious and probing. “If it is as you say, and you told this to Saige, why, then, would she have kept this from me? Why would she withhold this obviously important information, and allow Arien and me to accompany you on this journey?”
The question struck Marzi as a good one. “I think perhaps that you would need to ask Saige that question. I have no answer for you. And the same is true for the empress and the rest of you. Why she would not have told you is beyond me. I do only what I have been told to do.”
“I believe she speaks the truth.” Arien stood and walked around the fire to where Marzi sat. Putting a hand on the Azyrean’s shoulder, s
he continued, “We know the humans are here. We know they pose a danger. We also understand that something greater than individual greed or hatred is driving them—perhaps some larger force. That would explain Valyn’s involvement. Of all of us here, Marzi is the one with no reason to deceive. She tries only to get home, and yet she is giving everything to help us. Finally, this explains why both Saige and my moth… the empress would send us on this mission.” She turned back toward Saryn. “As much as it pains me, it also explains why Saige did not choose to come along. I fear that the thought of our goddess working through an outsider does not sit well with her.”
Saryn stiffened visibly but he let the comment about his mother go. “Let us, for a moment, assume that all you say is true. It still does not change anything. Our objective is to engage with the frost elves and enlist their support.”
Marzi felt the issue come to a head. After all, this had been about resolving the next moves. “I disagree, well, about nothing changing. Valyn told me that we have to continue into the teeth of the storm. Or, as you put it, going north. That keeps us in company with Rys, Elle, and Ran. And I don’t know why. What is it we are supposed to find up there? You said that taking that route costs us time, and I don’t understand why we would do that. I can only tell you what I was instructed to do.”
Ryshara spoke again, “Perhaps we are meant to go with you to the Quel’dethain Mountains. Maybe this is why Empress Ariessa sent no one else.”
Saryn challenged the notion, “If that is the case, why go farther north here? If you are to accompany us, then veering west here makes more sense.”
Arien’s voice grew sterner, filled with purpose. “We are wasting our energy with this line of discussion. Valyn told Marzi that we must go north. All that is required of us at the moment is to have faith. We must believe that the purpose will be revealed. I tell you all, this is no accident. This is no random set of events. There is something to the north that we need in order to complete our task. We have only to go and find it.”
To Find a God Page 14