Ju looked up at her and nodded grudgingly. “You are right of course. I could hit the other man and Cameron would hunt us down. But not before he had a few arrows sticking out of him.”
“Intent rules everything Ju. Were you to shoot the other man just because you hoped to stop someone who might have killed us, that is as bad as cold-blooded murder. You have to understand that we are out of harm's way for now, and with no idea of who is whom in the darkness you have no right to try. Any intention of helping is cancelled out by blind chance.”
Ju lowered his bow. “We should try to get to the docks as quickly as we can then.” Reshouldering his weapon, Ju turned to look down the gentle gradient of the road to the sea. It was a clear night now, the moon reflecting the sun's light as well as a mirror and the sea shone back at the sky. There were occasional patches of darkness in the distance, probably waves. As the sea shifted in its graceful dance, shapes materialised in the darkness. Shadows topped with white crests that could have been waves out to sea toppling over in the wind. Except that the crests never plunged. Zya realised what she was seeing. “Ju, look out to sea.”
Ju turned and looked down to the waves, and at that point the moon chose to highlight the bay as far West as she could see. “Oh my.”
“You see them too.” Ju said with renewed energy.
“That is a welcome sight to behold. Let us get down there.” What the two had witnessed was the unveiling of the entire pirate flotilla. Nearly a hundred ships floated in the bay, most of them far out to sea. Several were closer, but none were in range. This was disheartening to the two of them, but they persisted in their attempt to reach the dock. Behind them a piercing scream split the night, making Ju jump and Zya tremble. The two of them looked at each other, and without a word hurried on. The shops became closer and more crowded as befitted any dockside wharf. There were many more places for a mercenary to spring out on them, but their only concern was getting to the expanse of the sea.
“There they are!” shouted someone from across to their left. Down a side street Joshua pointed towards them, and then ran. Behind him another man with a sword already unsheathed followed closely. Ju grabbed his bow and Zya managed to find her focus stone. They readied themselves for the hopeless battle so close to freedom. A rush of wind and noise prevented their fate from reaching out and taking them as a shadow erupted into motion. They stood there mere moments from death, and watched in amazement as a man with a dented helm and a notched sword attacked the two guards at a blistering pace. Time seemed to slow for them. As Zya breathed she felt each particle of air pass through her lungs, felt the slow steady thump of her blood as it rushed through her ears. The men in front of her slowed, to the point that the fighting became a graceful dance of death. She could see every move as if it had been scripted a generation ago, and for some reason everything else became more and more remote. It was only the slowly waving form of Ju shouting into her face that brought her back to her senses. She shook her head, and suddenly the fight was at full tilt once more. “Our would-be saviour is certainly taking the fight to those guards. Damn my trusting nature to think that any of them were not thinking of themselves on a night like this.”
“The Duke? Is he like that too? You know what everybody said about him. Darrow and Yneris spoke about the Merchant Duke, hoarding his gold. Even things that Jenni said to me about rumours of him. He is thought of as selfish, a womaniser, and a lecher of the highest degree. I cannot feel that.”
Zya reached for her dagger. Through it she felt the contact with Duke Hester, felt the very sincerity of his words as he had last spoken to them, reached into the depths of his soul. “No, he is not. His men might be a little more wayward than he believes them to be, but he is doing the right thing. He is hunting O'Bellah and his mercenaries, defending his Duchy to the hilt. He is not the man made out to be so bad. We have seen the true source of the lies.”
“A little more wayward?” Ju looked off into the alleyway where the stranger was finally getting pressed back. “Can we do something now? It is clear enough to see who is blocking the way, and if that were Cameron, I think there would be three of them and two of us, and not the other way around.”
Zya watched the fight momentarily. “He is hurt, bleeding all over the place. It's a miracle he is still standing. Ju if you can help save his life and ours, then the time to act is now.”
Ju flashed her a grateful smile and took aim, relieved that he could finally do something useful. The fact that he was going to end a life did not even register. Zya lamented for the innocence lost from such a young person, but accepted the fact that at least he understood that his intentions had to be right before he could commit to such an act of violence. The bow had moulded to him and he had adapted to his weapon. He had not accepted the addiction of such power as Zya had. That was a task she would face in the future. For now, Zya pulled her own focus stone from her pocket and poured her thought into its crystalline perfection. Her thoughts melded with the lattice of crystals and she waited, her mind invigorated by the focus that was a moment away from release, her body filled with the energy that spilled back from the focus and made her whole again. As she stood there in the semi-transparent overlay of the crystalline world to the real world, she realised that was one question she had never asked Joen. Then the thought arose that she was still angry at the betrayal of that bug-eyed little weasel Ralnor, and her mind was brought back to the present.
Their shadowed saviour was definitely weakening from blood loss. His arm heavy, it became harder and harder to fend off the two guards, both fitter and stronger than he. The moment had worn off and now only the cold reality that he was going to die remained.
Joshua feinted, and then ducked for the other man to lunge over his shoulder, but nothing happened. Looking back, he saw an arrow sticking out of the mercenary's neck, the wound gushing blood as he clutched at it. The moment cost him, for the stranger angled his sword straight up through his ribs. Joshua's last moment of dimming sight was of a man pulling his sword free.
The stranger turned towards them. “Thank you both. Your arrow was timely, lad. Only an expert could have shot like that.” He appeared to be smiling, but he took no more than a couple of steps before he collapsed to the ground at the end of the alleyway.
Ju ran to the man, still very wary of the mercenary and the guard beyond, and rolled him over. “Foster!” He exclaimed.
“The man who saved you?” Zya hurried to the man. He bled from a dozen wounds, staining the shadowed street darker with his blood. “Ju, he is dying, look at his wounds. Stand back, I am going to try something.” Zya repeated the focus that she was going to use, and it flowed as easily through her as the breeze from the sea did around her. Extending the focus to include both Ju and Foster, Zya changed the intention of the focus to search the ground for other people. Her stomach dropped when she realised that there were a great many, only a couple of streets away. Obviously the hunt did not go well. Withdrawing the focus, Zya looked down at her companions. Ju stood ready and alert, while Foster glowed back at her.
“Lady, I don't know what it was as you did just then, but I owe you my life and I shall follow you anywhere.” His voice throbbed with sincerity and his face was a beacon of gratitude.
“It was levelling the scores as far as I was concerned.” She replied. “You have saved me twice, and Ju more times than I believe I know of.
Foster stood up. “Blow me, that magic of yours is potent stuff. You wizards are a force, that's to be sure. But what are you doing down here? You are surrounded.”
“If we have to, we will swim, Foster.” Ju replied before Zya was forced into a dangerous explanation that anybody could have overheard. “Care to join us?”
“Right now I feel as if I could take on the ocean myself, and everything in it.” Foster replied as he bent to pick up his sword. “I'm game.”
Leaving the alleyway, the three walked down the remaining slope to the dock. It consisted of a series of huts on the stone j
etty, and a boulder spit into the sea. Both Zya and Ju looked around in desperation as they sought out the ship they had hoped was still close by. As one their stomachs sank when they realised that they were truly stranded. There was barely a ship in sight, but Foster saw the ships in the distance.
“You are not going to be able to swim that far, not if you were even a fish, lad. You were thinking as one of them might have been a bit closer and you could have rowed out. Good idea, bad luck.” Zya looked at Foster, who looked down at the sea glumly while the gentle waves lapped against the dock in the silence of the night. A silence that was broken from behind them by the scrape of metal on metal. The three turned to find themselves face to face with at least a score of mercenaries, all of them heavily armed. Surrounded by them was the corpulent form of O'Bellah. “It seems that you have lost your way, you little green witch. Nowhere left for you to run. Nowhere left for you to hide.”
“You will not kill any of us, not while I draw breath.” Zya stood on the brink of rage, determined to focus the very fabric of life around her to defend them all.
O'Bellah laughed, and many of the mercenaries joined in the moment, chuckling, though the smile never reached their eyes. It created a very dark scene in the evening. “Who said I was going to kill you? I have plans for you, bitch. There is one man just dying to make your acquaintance, and I shall take you to him. It will be my pleasure.” O'Bellah said the word 'pleasure' with a sick lilt to his voice. Whatever the experience, it was unlikely to involve pleasure of any sort.
In response to this, Zya threw up a protective wall around the end of the dock on which they stood. The mercenaries tried to break through, but O'Bellah just stood there, smiling insanely. He pulled a focus stone from somewhere around his wide girth.
“Would you care to go one on one with me?” Zya challenged him. “Do you think you have the strength of will to overpower me with a focus?” Stalling for time was her last ploy. She could not kill any of them with a blast of power no matter how desperate the situation became, not if they did not attack.
“I think, young lady, that your time has come. You know my allies, and I can bet for certain that if we stand here long enough your focus will drain away to nothing.” He leered at her, and Zya searched the focus. Truly enough it was seeping away. The creature still remained apparently immobile in the palace, but its influence was being felt everywhere. The very ground sucked at her focus, drawing the energy to the Golem. She shook her head. “You stupid man. That creature will draw from you as much as it would from me. You, and every one of those idiotic fools that follows you.”
“Then you have only one choice,” he replied to Zya's shock, Ju's amazement and Foster's complete outrage. “You must submit yourself to me and end it.”
“Don't listen to him, Zya,” Ju warned, “he is playing you false.”
“O'Bellah, ever since the foothills of the mountains we have seen and heard of your treachery. Nobody would be stupid enough to listen to you.” Hope welled up in Zya. Premonitions were coming to pass, premonitions she had only just felt.
The comment only angered O'Bellah all the more. “Pathetic whore! I will bind you and take you screaming to my master!” O'Bellah closed his eyes and concentrated, and Zya felt the smallest of pushes against her wall of air. The only consequence was to distract O'Bellah, and for that he missed the trap being sprung.
“Have at 'em, men!” Roared Duke Hester of Kimarul, and a similar number of guards roared down the road to the mercenaries who now backed up against the air barrier in surprise.
O'Bellah's face registered shock. “This cannot be! Take them!”
From behind her barrier, Zya watched with fear-streaked relief as Duke Hester came to rescue them.
“At least we will have a way out of this,” Ju said with thanks clear in his voice.
“No, we cannot go back up to the palace,” Zya replied.
“Why not?”
“Yes lass, why not? Added Foster. “It seems as being the right course of action.”
“The creature is still up there, and I cannot risk facing it.”
“Ahh it's only being a moving statue,” Foster said cheerfully.
“No, it is so much more than that. It is evil. A manifestation more malevolent than any other being on this continent.” Zya looked at Foster with deadly seriousness as she said this.
He glanced down at Ju, who nodded in agreement. “This creature will end us all, Foster. If Zya believes it, then it is true.”
“I'm sorry but my only option is to swim out,” Zya continued. “We must get out to the end of the spit, as near to those ships as is possible.”
Foster sighed. “I have gone through fire and brimstone to reach you lad. How I survived I don't know. I must have had the God's luck on me tonight. I will fight them if you want to leave. It is the least I can do.”
“I don't think things need get that desperate,” said a voice from behind Zya, and she turned around to look into the raven hair and midnight eyes of Lorn.
“Lorn!” Zya shouted, and hurtled into his arms, kissing him forcefully. She had not realised how much she had missed him.”
Lorn put up with her ministrations for a moment, and then looked past her to the battling guards and mercenaries. “You can drop that now, we are ready to go.”
“Lorn, if I remove this focus they will kill us!”
“I think not.” Lorn moved aside, and now Zya saw what had not been revealed before. A ship pulled into view on the dockside, its beautiful sails eerie in the full moonlight, its rigging full of men wielding bows.
“You have been busy,” she admitted.
“Come, you do not need to stand on the spit now. The tide is turning, and we must make haste.” Lorn guided Zya to the steps to the jetty, where she descended with almost a jig in her steps. She had never been this relieved in all her life, and Ju was just speechless.
Foster remained standing on the dock. “I will do what I can from here, my Lady. Maybe get one or two of the bastards before I meet my fate.”
“Come with us,” Zya urged him.
“Yes Foster, come with us?”
He shook his head. “What use would one turncoat mercenary be to you? How could anybody trust me, knowing that I am associated with them?” He pointed at the band of mercenaries now fully engaged with the Duke's remaining guard.
“You have proven yourself to Ju, and that counts for much Foster.” Zya climbed back a couple of steps, trying to reassure the man. “You have saved my life at least twice, and that is proof enough to me.”
“You have also proven that you are as blockheaded as ever, Foster, and were your mate Boulter here too he would be laughing at you!” Roared Darrow, who had climbed the steps behind her.”
“Captain Darrow?” Foster asked?
“Aye, the same. You know me, mercenary, and if these kids trust you then I do too. Now get aboard my bloody ship before you get pinned like a seamstresses cushion!”
It appeared that the former mercenary needed no more urging, and followed them quickly down to the ship. As asked, Zya released the focus and suddenly several mercenaries found themselves off-balance. They turned, and howling war cries ran after their fleeing quarry.
“Archers!” Roared Darrow, who lit up the night in his gaudy blues and yellows, “fire”
A hail of arrows slammed into the mercenaries, and they melted to the ground. The arrows ranged further up the dock, and everyone dropped as they were drawn into that fatal wave.
Zya climbed aboard the ship, and after a brief embrace with her father ran to the side of the deck to see what had happened. The mercenaries had been felled to a man, and the guards were celebrating. One man had run toward them, and the archers were readying arrows. “No!” She cried, and with a nod from their captain, they relaxed. It was Duke Hester.
“I am alone now!” He yelled at the departing ship.
“You will never be alone!” Zya shouted back. “I will make sure. I made a promise.”
&
nbsp; “The Gods bless you, girl,” Hester yelled back, “find a safe port and return some day!”
“I will, I promised you that too. Keep fighting the good fight! One day we shall prevail!”
“We already are!” Came the faint cry of the Duke from the dock, and behind him a roar of victory reinforced his words. “Until next time, Zya S'Vedai.”
Zya turned to Lorn, who held her from behind. We have stories to be told, but I must keep a promise to the Duke. Tell Darrow to send some of them back. The Duke needs a new army, one Loyal to the city of Bays Point. More importantly one loyal to its people.
Lorn went in search of the captain, leaving Zya and Ju standing on the deck together.
“Will we see him again?” He asked.
Zya flashed him a smile. “That man is stronger than the steel he wields. The next time we see the mainland it will be a changed place. He will be better for it, and the Old Law will have taken a great step to being preserved. We have a long way to go Ju, a long way before this will ever be finished.”
“Will it? Will it ever be finished?”
Zya looked out, not answering, and Ju joined her in her contemplation. They looked out on the rapidly retreating landmass. The moonlight turned the cliffs into silver daggers of stone, and the city and palace into beacons of metaphorical hope. In the darkness they said their goodbyes to Bays point. Under the watchful eye of Ondulyn, the fugitives caught the last glance of defiance against the tide of evil. A man with a sword raised aloft, reflecting the moonlight from his blade. After a moment he passed out of sight as the ship turned to join its fellows in saying farewell to Bays Point for perhaps the last time. They were leaving, and not even the Gods themselves would stop Zya from following her Path of Dreams.
Epilogue
The water lapped gently against the side of the dock, rippling and trickling as it found its way into nooks and cracks worn away by the generations of tide. All had fallen quiet since the battle. Dried blood caked the steps, limbs and corpses began the slow process of rotting up on the road. The moon had passed over to the point that its light no longer bleached the nightscape white, but instead cast long, deep shadows.
The Path of Dreams (The Tome of Law Book 2) Page 65