“I can understand that.” The young mistress replied with sympathy. “Mount up!” She added. When all were mounted she looked back. “Everybody ready, Hawknest?”
The red-haired tribesman stood in his stirrups and laughed out loud. “As ready as they will ever be, mistress Mavra. If we make this escape, your name will be remembered for a hundred generations as a good luck charm!”
They rode to the South, crossing the ford and heading into the gently sloping hills that rimmed that part of the valley. They rode in silence for the most part, but once her curiosity had gotten the better of her, Zya just had to ask a question. “Why now, when you were supposed to be coming at night?”
Mavra pulled her horse in closer so that they could speak. “It was the strangest thing. We were preparing to leave to scout the area, when one of the tribesmen spotted two figures hurtling towards us. We stopped and hid as best we could, and they ran straight by us, oblivious to our presence. It was what they looked like that made us decide to come in early. They were dressed exactly as those two you faced so long ago. That was a bad omen, and I was not prepared to wait a moment longer.”
“How did you get all these people out of the village?”
“O'Bellah locked himself in the tower, along with everybody that was already in there.” Jani replied from behind them. “It seems that somebody wasn't happy to be stuck in there. The noise was enough to collapse the tower itself.”
“We did our bit in keeping them in.” Mavra added. “We knocked the wheels off of a cart right in front of the door. That should keep them penned. The only other problem was avoiding the patrols; the one you saw us chasing was the third to find us. They are disorganised though, and it has been easy to slip through their net.”
Venla was still in a state of disbelief, and hung on to her husband's broad shoulders for support, her face leaning against his back. “I can't believe that you are all wearing weapons. How could you go so far against the Old Law?”
“We have not gone against it, my wife.” Answered Layric from in front of her. “We have made a philosophical choice. It was them, or it was us. We have seen a village where they have impaled every single villager on a stake, for no other reason than they believe in and follow the Old Law. That was enough to convince everybody. It certainly convinced the tribesmen, and if they believe it, devout as they are, then so must we.”
“What have they done to become so changed?”
“We beheld the three wizards, who revealed the truth to us,” Hawknest answered as he rode up. “The Seeker of Truth it was that had the vision. These evil men are concocting dark magic of immense proportions. The Law and the stone wizards both concurred. They laid down the commandment for us to defend the common people of the countryside, and thus do we fulfil our duty. The mercenaries would kill us, and we would save everyone. Therefore we must kill them to prevent them killing more.”
Venla was distraught. “I can't believe what I am hearing.” She pointed at Mavra accusingly. “You have taken my caravan and turned it into a war band. How dare you?”
“Peace Venla,.” came the deep voice of Jaden from a few horses back. “Listen to them.”
“Venla, I did not take your caravan. There was no caravan left to take. Layric himself persuaded everybody else that I should be made the Mistress in accordance with our ways. It was also him that agreed with the necessity for us to be able to defend ourselves. We have been hunted, and we have won victories. There are bands like this spread across Ciaharr and even Ardicum. Their mandate is to inform and defend the people. Moreover, it is to teach them to defend themselves. Nobody outside of a city is safe anymore.”
Venla shuddered at the enormity of what was happening outside of her simple life of the captive. “Everything I believe in has been turned upside down. Even though we are riding on our way to escape, it all feels as bad as when we were first captured. The treks, the previous escapes, they had all been for nothing. The world is on a precipice, and I feel us all sliding a little too close to the edge. There is a word that describes all you have told me.” She said quietly. “Genocide.”
Mavra looked as determined as once Venla herself had, long ago during her younger days. “We know, Venla. We have chosen this course reluctantly, and with no other option, but there is a word we use in response. That word is war.”
Chapter Ten
The reunion of Gwyn and Anita was one of the most tear-filled joyous moments of Zya's life. She had cried when Mavra had been bear hugged between her mother and father, but she had suspected they were all okay. Gwyn had told her that his last memory of Anita had been to see her lying in a heap on the ground, unconscious as a result of the cruelty of O'Bellah. Now he embraced her gently while the band looked on. Zya was satisfied with the outcome. Not only had they rescued their family, and locked O'Bellah up in that tower, but also they had released all of the other prisoners from the village, and escaped past the camps of mercenaries into the hills beyond the valley. Against their beliefs Mavra herself had dispatched the only pursuers, along with the help of Cahal and Jaden. Now the band numbered over three score, for the tribesmen had gotten word to their brethren that finally there was somebody else willing to take a stand. All Mavra had wanted was to rescue her family, but now there was something much more that was needed of her. Whether or not Mavra knew this was unclear, but they had to serve the people in a way they had never expected. They had to save them. The camp had been moved from the small copse to a location a bit further away from O'Bellah's mercenary village. This was much more defensible, on a rise and in a deep patch of woods. Not only did the trees muffle any noise they might make, but the space also allowed room for expansion, and that was Mavra's plan. Villages were few and far between, these making easy targets for the marauders. Zya forsaw the villagers making themselves much more difficult options to tackle. The mercenaries were not going to have free reign to murder. Not as long as her family drew breath.
Venla walked towards her, away from the main group of rejoicing people. She smiled in that motherly way, but there was also a hint of deference in her stance. “You have come a very long way in such a short space of time.” She said, looking pleased at the result.
“I have had little choice in the matter mo…” Zya corrected herself just in time. “Venla.”
Venla beamed her approval. “My, it's a long time since I have been called that.” She did not appear angry at the fact.
“You don't mind?” Zya asked carefully.
“No, I honestly don't think that I do,” Venla replied. “When we were taken, and I saw Anita lying there, I was sure that she was ready to pass on into the laps of the Gods. I know my husband, that after wrestling with his conscience would do the honourable thing and ensure continuity. I am just pleased that he did.”
“Venla, I am sorry I left you all. I did not want any of this.”
Venla embraced her, reminding her subconsciously that although the role was no longer official, she was indeed still the child, and Venla the matriarch. “It is all right, truly it is. Layric explained to me what happened. I can honestly say that I do not know if I would have had the will to follow my path of dreams. Not then, not even now. You have come far in a season, child. A seer. I would never have expected that.”
Zya felt relieved at her recent decisions, but still felt a need to try and explain herself. “Venla, what I have done I felt that I was compelled to do. I do not agree with it all, even now. We serve people, but we also serve the Old Law and that states that we can only act in self-defence. I feel that you will be put in a position where you are forced to act out of that same self-defence, and the motive behind it might not be altogether right.” She sat down on the edge of the wagon. “By the time that happens we will have gone. I needed to come here and see that you were safe. I am joining the Earth Guild in Bay's Point just as soon as I return. You should hear from the tribesmen about what they have witnessed. It supersedes all other mandates, but I cannot be a part of this in good conscience.�
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Venla clasped her hand in silence. She was one to know about duty. “Layric has also told me about the villages, and the deaths, and also about some strange wizards that encountered dark magic in the village.”
“I do not know much about them, except that there were three, and they are very highly thought of by the tribesmen. It seems that it was one of the wizards that encouraged them to aid the citizens of the plains. They found your band just after we did, and the rest has been one continual rush of planning, practicing and riding.”
Venla stepped back to look at the gear Zya now wore. “You are quite the elder for a youngling. What exactly can you see?”
“It's mostly a muddle still. Gut impressions. I dream, and when it happens, which it randomly does, I get a wrenching in my gut, as the future meets the present within me. Still, beats embroidery.” Zya added, and they both laughed. “I wonder sometimes how different things would be had I stayed.”
“They would have found you,” Venla replied, trying not to say too much. “Had you remained with us, I am certain the consequences would have been much worse for us all. Granted it would have been nice to have Tarim's skills as a warrior, for that was what he undoubtedly once was, but who is to say that we would have continued on this current path had you not gone?”
Zya began to see what Venla was getting at. “Are you saying that you would have preferred things the way they are, despite all that has happened, and all everybody has gone through?”
“Zya,” Venla replied sincerely, “I am saying exactly that, because from the experiences you have gained it has made a better person out of you.”
Zya looked down at herself. “A better person out of me? Venla, I am still a girl.”
Venla shook her head. “No you are not. You are a leader. Maybe not yet, but you have a spark.”
“Mavra rescued them. Mavra will be the one they look to for direction, but you are going to have to help decide what happens next.” Despite the leather garb, and the sword she held, there was definitely still a lot of the girl left in Mavra. She had obviously been running on nerves as taut as lute strings for a very long time now. She had waited until she felt it appropriate to step into the conversation.
Venla continued speaking to head off any further protest. “It need not be as bad as you think it is, dear. Just because I am no longer the Mistress of the caravan, it does not mean that I will refuse to aid you should you ask it of me.”
“Would you not want it back?” Mavra asked, though her eyes already spoke of an immense relief in the knowledge that she was not alone.
“Absolutely not!” Venla exclaimed. “That an ex-Mistress has taken back a caravan while her successor was still around would be a scandal! Besides, I am going to enjoy the freedom, and so is my husband.” Venla added a wink after she spoke, to leave Mavra in no uncertain terms with regards to what she meant.
“Well it is good to know that I am not alone.” Mavra said with relief.
“You were never alone.” Venla replied as she watched Gwyn gently holding his wife, getting immense satisfaction that they were back together again. “As long as there is anybody from your caravan with you, you are not alone. Out there somewhere is a man of your own. One that will defend you till death comes calling, and now all you have to do is find him.”
“We have the guards.” Mavra replied, unsure of what Venla meant.
“The guards won't marry you, girl.” Venla replied archly, and suddenly Mavra understood.
“Ohh.” She said. “That is going to have to wait. We have started something bigger and more important than that now, and I think that such trivial matters will be left until a time when we can cross the country peacefully and unhindered.”
“Maybe,” Zya replied, “but know this Mother, you did not start this, not in any way. If you want to finish it, that is up to you.
“Heed caution though,” Venla added. “You should know that we witnessed a large gathering of men undergoing a compulsion by a creature of darkest magic. They are out there, maybe in the villages you seek to save awaiting the call of their master. They are men with no hope, and no vision of the future. They have joined what you could loosely call the enemy, and we should all be wary.”
Mavra looked around at the other people that had been rescued. There was about an equal proportion of men and women, and even a couple of children. “What about them?”
“Look closely at them, Mother, and you will see a spark in their eyes. They definitely have something to live for, in most cases each other. The men you should be worried about do not have that spark. They have nothing they would call their own worth defending, and no morals worth standing up for. They are the sons of misery, and thus have they willingly been enslaved. They are the worst kind of enemy, one with nothing to lose.”
Mavra sighed once more. “If only we could get a hold of the wizards. They would be able to aid us.”
“My dear, it is going to take a lot more than a wizard with his useless stone to help us should the struggle really erupt.”
“What do you mean?”
Venla shuddered at the memory. “The creature that controls them is a being of stone, twice my height, and emanating so much evil that it makes you cower to look away. It will take a lot more than wizards.”
“That is a worrying thought.”
At the mention of the creature, Zya's stomach tied up completely. She doubled over.
“Zya, what's wrong?” Mavra asked, reaching for her shoulder.
“I have seen the creature in my dreams. It haunts them. I have to get to Bay's Point as soon as I can. I have found the answers I looked for in coming here.”
“You will, but for now all you need worry about is what is in front of you.”
Zya forced herself back up, taking huge, ragged gasps of air. People were beginning to gather their way, expectant looks on their faces. Everybody that had been a part of the recent episode was there, along with those that had been left guarding the camp. They gathered in a crowd, right in front of the wagon she had been leaning against. Those in front sat down to make it easier for those behind to see. The couples with children brought their fidgeting charges around to where they could see the lady that had helped to rescue them. This was going to be difficult enough for Mavra as it was, but she lacked height. Mavra looked her way, and Zya nodded in encouragement. She climbed up onto the wagon, so that she could look down on them. It was quite a crowd, but they were all hers, and awaited her words. She took a deep breath, unsure what words were going to be spilling out. “We did it,” she said humbly, and they all cheered. She raised her hands, and they quietened. “We have been into the spiders nest, past his web of defences, and taken his prize meal: our family. Finally, the Caravan is back together after many heartbreakingly long moons.” Mavra looked down at her parents, who smiled on in approval, and Zya saw that behind those smiles lay a couple of people who would never be whole again until they had their other daughter back as well. “We have made new friends, who have a common interest. The forest tribe of Merdon is a very long way from here, but you brave people carry your home with you in your hearts and in your minds. I am glad that we were fortunate enough to meet, and honoured that there is so much we can learn from one another.” Zya followed Mavra's gaze to the new faces. They were pleased to be part of such an undertaking, but was that because they were still euphoric about having been rescued? “It would not surprise me if some of you are still a bit baffled as to why complete strangers would take you from your villages and imprison you in the middle of a mercenary camp. Trust me, talk to the tribe, and you will find that your experience has been an easy one compared to some. There are villages that have no living in them, only corpses impaled upon stakes. This was done without mercy, by people who have never known a feeling. It is part of a greater whole, and every village that this happens to makes it worse for us, and for every person on the plains of Ciaharr that still breathes free air. They are being exterminated because they follow a simple set o
f rules that are supposed to promote goodness and fairness.”
“How do you know this?” Shouted one of the recent captives.
“What has the Old Law ever done to them?” Called out another.
Mavra leaned forward, resting her arms on the wagon in front of her. “It seems that sharing and equality is not good enough for some people, and they want a system where few benefit and most go without. This is their way of enforcing it. We know this because people standing around you even now have witnessed the dead villages. They have allies in wizards who are trying to find the answer to this senseless slaughter even as I now speak.”
“And what do you expect us to do?” Called out the first, one of the men they had brought out with them.
“What would you do?” Mavra replied.
“I am just a farmer, with a wife and children,” the man replied. “What can I do?”
“Look at me,” Mavra said in answer. “What do you see?”
The man stared at her for a moment. “I see a warrior who has all the skills necessary to fight a war like this.”
“You do not see what I do then. I am a girl, the daughter of two travellers that stand amongst you all.”
“Travellers by very definition do not fight!” Denounced another man “What is this?”
“This is a sign that things are changing because they have to.” Spoke up Layric from one side of the group. “We did not want this, but it has been forced upon us. Mavra was chosen as the Mistress of the caravan out of tradition and necessity, so that we could continue our journey as should be the case, but she chose instead a more noble cause. The tribesmen and women saw our cause as being similar to their own, and joined us, and we shall fight back.”
“But with what skills?” The man argued. “With the girl as a leader? How far do you hope to get with that?” It was clear that the man, despite the euphoria at escaping the encampment, had quickly become despondent.
The Path of Dreams (The Tome of Law Book 2) Page 31