“That trap is waiting to be sprung, Mistress, but I believe that they don't know who is intended to spring it. I have a way in here.” Toem pointed to the Northern edge of the map.
“But that is right near one of the encampments. How do you mean for us to get in there?”
“Look at yourself, your weapons, your garb. You look no different to the mercenaries themselves. We will ride straight in without anybody noticing.”
“I don't know if I agree with your simplistic solution.” Mavra certainly sounded dubious.
“Mercenaries don't give a whit about other mercenaries,” Cahal chipped in. “Were we to just ride in there and past them, we would most likely just have to trade a few insults. In the end the decision is yours. It is your caravan, and your family in there.”
“I don't see that we have any choice. I don't like having to do it this way, but if there is no way of getting past the guards…”
“Take me prisoner.” Zya offered. “Then you can tell them you captured me trying to escape.”
“How is that going to get us by the mercenaries? They will hunt us down like wolves, especially when they see you. We can get away with armour, but what are you going in as? Tribal wise woman probably won't be the best of excuses.”
Wracking her mind for a way to get into the camp, a memory came back to Zya of her childhood. “Mavra, do you remember when we used to bandage Erilee to the point that she could not move?”
At the mention of her sister's name, Mavra's face darkened. “I remember.”
“Leprosy. I am going to be a leper that escaped one of the camps. You are bringing me back, wrapped from head to foot for my, and everyone else's protection. They won't want to come within a league of me once you announce what you have. If there is a way into this valley, then it is through superstition and misguided fear, not through force of any kind. The Old Law will not allow you to fight your way in.”
“The Old Law might be suspended until we get our family back, Zya.” Mavra snapped back immediately. “You do not run this Caravan.”
“Don't I know it,” Zya shot back. “I am not here to make your decisions, Mavra. I am here to get into that camp. One way or another I need to go. This seems most sensible.”
“There is nothing sensible about this. The Caravan left sense behind when my sister went off with those strangers. What we need to decide now is who stays and who goes.” A lot of faces suddenly became eager. Whatever the danger, and to Zya that was palpable, there were plenty of volunteers just waiting to be given the opportunity to prove themselves. “More importantly is who stays. The Caravan must be protected at all costs.”
“You can leave us, and some of the tribesmen,” Tarim offered, indicating himself and Lorn. Lorn threw a desperate look at Zya, but her intuition told her it was the right choice. She remained impassive. “The camp is well hidden, and we know more than enough about tracking and camouflage to see this all safe.”
Everybody was now gathered close, and Mavra looked around at them all, uncertainty on her face. “Juatin, you shall remain. I will not be party to you risking yourself.” Ju did not appear to take the news well, but he said nothing. “Anita will stay here and run the Caravan in my stead.”
“No Mistress you cannot risk yourself.” Anita's outburst was as loud as it was quick.
“Yes I can, and I will. Zya will go with me, as will Layric, Jaden and Cahal. Toem too, and Hawknest.”
The flame-haired tribesman inclined his head in acknowledgement. “We will see you safely in and out.”
Toem stayed silent, but Zya could see he was less than impressed. “How far is it to the valley?”
“Several leagues. A good day's ride from here. I suggest riding halfway and then camp, taking it easy with the horses until we reach the valley. That way they are fresh if we need to escape in a hurry.”
“We will leave in the morning. That will give us a chance to sort ourselves out. Those of you going, get yourselves ready. If the rest of you could help out in whatever way you can I would be most grateful.”
The gathering broke up. Zya remained where she was as did her father, Layric and Mavra. “You look pensive Layric,” Mavra observed.
“I am concerned about Venla. She is fragile alone. What if she has not made it?”
“You needn't be worried for your wife, Layric,” her father replied, hand on Layric's arm. “If I know Venla, she will have started making offhand comments about the organisation of the place as soon as she got there. She is afraid of nobody, and that will include O'Bellah and his cronies.”
“She is still with us,” Zya affirmed, “I can feel it. Trust me Layric, everything will be fine.”
“Easy for you to say.” Was Mavra's grumbling comment.
“Why should I have any reason to doubt my instinct? It has been right so far.” Zya could see that Mavra was in no mood to continue this conversation, so she excused herself. Moving away from the camp, Zya found a quiet glade to sit in and gather her thoughts. She closed her eyes and settled on the cool grass, searching her memory for any reason that she would need to go as she suggested. Presently her awareness picked up the presence of others. Ju was in the glade, as was the comforting feeling of her father, and the warm glow of Lorn. They were doing their best to leave her undisturbed. “You don't have to do that, you know. I can sense all three of you.”
“I told you, Ju said in Lorn's direction. If embarrassment was hidden on Lorn's face, Zya could feel it beaming out of him.
“In our tribe the wise women are given utmost respect, and a very wide berth.” Lorn replied in defence of his actions.
“Well it may surprise you to learn that all the wise women you have been avoiding have known exactly where you were, and precisely what you were doing at the time,” Zya replied, opening her eyes and beckoning them all closer. “My men. What am I going to do without you?”
“Look after yourself, that's what Zya.” Her father replied as he brushed a wisp of hair back over her ear.
“I won't have any problems in this valley.”
“You can't be sure of that,” Lorn replied. “I know there's a lot I don't understand about the seers, but you are not yet fully endowed with their gifts. There may be something you miss in interpreting the path of your dreams.”
“I am going because I have utmost faith in my feelings. This feels right, Lorn. As much as it felt right to leave the Caravan and end up meeting you, so does this feel right. I have to get in there and see what is going on. I can't tell you how I know I will be safe, but in that valley, O'Bellah holds no threat to me.”
“So are you going to help rescue Venla?”
“No, I am not.”
“What?” Ju shouted. “Why are you going there if you aren't going to help them?”
“There is something I need to learn in this place, and to go in there and conceal myself is the only method by which I will learn it. If I can help I promise you I will, but it is not my purpose, and it is for Mavra to free her people.”
“Not your people?”
“Ju, I don't think they ever were.” Zya looked at her father. There were mysteries hidden behind his eyes, and one day she knew he would tell her whether he wanted to or not. “If I think back to my childhood, I was always different. Mavra and Erilee were perfect travellers, happy to stay indoors and do the work. The least I can do is accept that I am different. The Gods only know it is showing.” She raised her arms and laughed. Her true family laughed with her. Reaching towards her father, she was pulled to her feet and into a bearhug.
“You be careful, my daughter. You are all I have left in this world. Your mother would be proud of you.”
“When I return you are going to tell me about her, father.”
“We shall see, Zya.”
The night passed quickly for those preparing to stay. For the company headed for the valley, it passed at a crawl as they considered their future and made preparations. For Zya it passed with relative ease. She slept safe in the knowledge t
hat her future was decided for her. She would have no problems in the immediate future. Her dreams were lucid, and she walked through a forest on a steep hillside. Ferns poked out at her, and the brown path, clear of any detritus, wound off up the hillside. She walked, and was not alone. A woman was there, or at least it felt like a woman, for there was a blur whenever Zya looked where she expected her mystery companion to be. Ju was nowhere to be seen, not that it bothered her. Zya walked on, and the apparition maintained its distance, just outside her peripheral vision. “Look you might as well come where I can see you.” Zya's words were suffocated by the foliage. “No echo at all.” She reflected on her dream state. “Anything goes I guess.” Turning quickly, she tried to catch the blur out, and for a moment, did so. The apparition was about her height, and dark towards the top, but that was all. “I see you now. What do you want?”
There was a reply, just a whisper of a breeze, nothing more.
“You will have to speak up. I cannot hear you.”
Again, the slightest of answers, but this time much more urgent.
“It's no good. You are too quiet. Can I help you in any way. Is that you, Ju?”
The ferns around her began to rustle, and then flatten as wind picked up. The apparition no longer evaded her, but instead expanded as the wind increased. Within moments what had been a smudge on Zya's vision had expanded, and coalesced as a whirlwind, black as night. The vortex span wildly, but was rooted to the same spot. It tried to reach her, but huge as it had become, it could not. “Help me, Zya,” it cried out in a howl.”
“Who are you?” Zya replied, perplexed and not a little frightened. “How can I do this if I don't know who you are?”
“Release me!” The wind shrieked, and purple light spilled out of the vortex and into the sky. Zya closed her eyes, and all went silent. “Dreams.” She said aloud to herself. Opening her eyes, the forest was back to normal.
“Release me,” hissed a voice, and a great dark creature loomed in front of her.
Zya opened her eyes and jumped up before she realised where she was. Her hands were sticking out in front, in the motion of pushing something away, and she felt sweaty all over.
“Sleep well?” Called her father.
“Not really.”
“Nerves probably. It happens to the best of us.”
“No, it was not nerves. Something entirely different. I'd rather not talk about it.” Zya turned away to see Ju with a questioning look on his face. He hadn't shared her dream and he wondered why. “We'll talk later, Ju. I promise.”
The day moved along rapidly from that point onwards. All too soon Zya bade her family farewell and set out upon Red with her six companions armed to the teeth in true mercenary style. Hawknest had been dubbed the unofficial leader as his stature and wild looks were agreed upon as most the most likely quality to get them past the mercenaries should Zya's ruse fail. They rode steadily West until at a predetermined point Toem dismounted and led them to a hollow surrounded by gorse. They spent an uncomfortable night in the cold for fear of giving away their presence. Nobody spoke for the entire night, and by the time dawn crept over the distant mountains, Zya was chilled to the bone, and fuzzy from lack of sleep.
“Time for your disguise then, Zya,” Layric said as he approached her with bandaging. “You are sure about this.”
“It's the only way we will get into the valley, Layric.”
“Okay then. Remove your outer garments so we can wrap you up. It's too cold to do any more.”
Zya allowed them to bandage her as much as possible, enduring the process.
“What are we going to do about her hair?” Layric asked Mavra.
“Tie it back, and put a sack over my head.” Zya answered before she risked having her hair chopped off all too soon.
“It's your disguise.” Mavra decided. “If you think that will be enough then so be it.”
“Trust me, Mavra. The mercenaries will fall over each other trying to get out of the way when you bring me into view.”
They got under way, riding much more slowly. “From here on in, absolute silence from the ladies.” Toem ordered. “Although there are female companies, mixed bands are rare and will raise suspicion.”
“He speaks wisely.” Cahal agreed. “I never saw a female mercenary before.”
“Well that must mean they don't exist.” Came Mavra's sarcastic reply.
“Oh they exist, Mistress, you just don't see them a lot. Now if you will pardon me, shut up and keep quiet. We don't want our façade broken by your sweet murmurings. Just sit there and look fierce.”
They rode on while the sun rose to its zenith. About midday Toem halted them. “You cannot see it, but the valley is just around this bend. There may be mercenaries at any point from hereon in. Ride in file, with the prisoner in the middle. The luck of the forest be with us all.”
Zya remained silent, cowed, as if she truly had been captured. Bent over in her saddle, she still had a good view of the approaching valley. The ground just dropped away from them and the valley spread out almost like Mavra's map come to life. A little way off was a rude guard post, deserted. They rode quickly past, only to be hailed from behind as they rounded another bend.
“Oi, where you goin?” Yelled a mercenary in muddy leathers wielding a pike. Behind him several others had gotten up from what Zya expected had been a long period of lazing around drinking. The mercenary was unsteady on his feet.
“Prisoner for the village. Escaped with a group of them through the East border.” Hawknest yelled back at them.
“Where're the rest?”
Hawknest loosened his sword in its sheath, pulling a foot of the blade out. “The rest weren't as willing to come along. They made good sport for my men and I.” Hawknest flicked his hand up behind his back, and the rest of them laughed at his cue.
The mercenary guard shambled closer. A deliberate move from Hawknest ended with his horse in front of Mavra. “So what's so special about this one?”
“Ever heard of a leper?”
The guard stopped in his tracks, making a sign of warding in front of him. At the word 'leper', the others who had been making their way to their fellow backed off, leaving him to face them alone. “Them as have bits dropping off them? What business do you have with one of those?” He was backing away now. Zya knew her plan would work, but now she could feel events unfolding exactly as she had guessed they would.”
“This one works in the village. Somebody very powerful wants this one kept close.” This was unexpected, and Zya watched as Toem threatened to become agitated. Hawknest was unpredictable, just as he had said.
“Oh what you mean the boss? Old Dondera?” The guard barked out a laugh, finding something oblivious funny.
“Absolutely. Tell me friend, did you know that lepers can infect those around them? I wouldn't come too close if I were you. Who knows what might start dropping off.”
The guard looked down at his midsection and then back at Hawknest, who nodded, his eyes grave. “Go on, get away from me. See that you leave the camp by a different route next time.” Without waiting to watch them go, the guard stumbled back to his patrol and whatever pastime was better than guarding the road.
Hawknest led them on around the side of a hill, until they reached a point where the land flattened out. “Good plan,” he commented.
“Nearly ruined,” Toem admonished him. “You are rash.”
“We are in here, aren't we?” Came Hawknest's fiery reply.
“Time for wherefores later,” Mavra decided aloud. “We need to get in and out as soon as possible. Zya where do you need to go now?”
“To the main village, which must be those buildings over there.”
“This is probably best done overnight, when the prisoners are all gathered together. Toem, why don't you take Zya into the village and the rest of us will find a place to hide until the cover of darkness.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Toem agreed, and the two of them left the main group. “Th
ey have your mercenaries, they will survive the night.”
“And us? In a group the misdirection lasts a lot longer.”
“True Zya, but we have to get you to the village, and it is better done in small numbers. We can't find Venla if there is a gang of us banging on every door, so the two of us is best. Now quiet. We don't know what might be watching or listening. You are supposed to be a cowed prisoner. Best thing we can do is find your companions and then decide what to do with you.”
As described, the village was a small affair, a few rows of houses strung out along the tracks that led in, with three-tiered buildings in the middle. Toem made for the houses furthest back from the centre.
“How can you be so sure of their location?”
“I have been in and around this village a lot during the passing of the last moon. It is well protected, but not during the day. Only the garrison in the centre of the village is here, and they will be in the inn. O'Bellah likes to keep his home clear of the mercenaries.”
“It amazes me that such a tyrant could come from such humble surroundings.” Zya said with regret.
“Even the most powerful come from somewhere. Everybody has roots.”
“I don't know mine.”
“You will. There are reasons for everything. You will find out one day.”
They stabled their horses behind the house, and entered through the back. “Nobody here.” Zya said after a cursory look around.
“They are out fishing, hunting, gathering crops and whatnot,” Toem replied. “They won't be back until evening, so you had better make yourself comfortable. We are going nowhere else. Make sure you stay away from the windows. We don't know who might walk by.”
Zya did just that, secreting herself upstairs in a room with a narrow window that gave her a view over the village. In the silence of the day she could feel Toem moving silently around, both inside and around the house. At one point he appeared in her room. “Are you comfortable?”
The Path of Dreams (The Tome of Law Book 2) Page 28