"Would it not be advisable to head west to the coastal cities? They are large and plentiful. Surely, we would find refuge within one of them. They will undoubtedly be much more amiable to a prolonged relocation than the Orcs,” insisted Jaro.
“Jaro, how far away are the coastal cities?” she asked.
“They are quite far, but would the length not be worth the greater chance of acceptance?” he asked.
“Greater chance you say? Perhaps traveling that far over the land is easy for you when you are alone. But consider our numbers. We cannot possibly sustain a journey of that distance with as many people as we have. We would have to travel across more than half of the entire Silver Empire relying solely on the land to provide for us. Food will become scarce, as will shelter and water. Not to mention the risk of disease to the young and elderly. No Jaro, we are not a hardened army of soldiers that is able to withstand the hardships of a prolonged march over that distance. Our best choice is to cross the mountain pass. It is a much shorter distance over a much more forgiving terrain than heading west,” she said as she stopped to speak to him directly.
“I do not think the Orcs will be as forgiving as the land,” he said ominously.
"Perhaps not. Nevertheless, that is the direction we are headed. After all, the hospitality of our hosts will matter not if we fail to reach them. You are more than welcome to continue your journey on your own, but if you stay with us, we head for the mountain pass," she said sternly.
“I meant no offense, m’lady. I only mean to offer an existing alternative,” he said apologetically.
Looking at him warily, she was uncertain what to make of him exactly. It was no small influence to possess the capability to turn a guard away from his Lord’s orders. Neither was it lost upon her that the individual who possessed that skill, or rather, influence was likely to be formidable as both a foe and an ally. At the very center of her dilemma was her concern for his trustworthiness. She did not doubt that the influence he held over Caption Belecin saw its roots grown from nefarious seeds, but she did not know the depth of those nefarious roots. Could she trust him? Yes, but that was not really the question. Everyone is trustworthy. However, it was the manner of their trustworthiness that she was considering regarding this Jaro. Could he be trusted to offer up the best solution to their problems as a whole, or would any suggestion from him be laced with the selfish desire to make sure it was good for him first, and the rest of the refugees second? She did not yet know.
"I appreciate your concern, but we are headed North. As I said before, you are welcome to travel with us, but should your purpose be set against our well-being, you will not find me so understanding," she said firmly.
"Oh, I would never endanger the lives of your followers. Again, I meant only to point out the potential peril innately present where the orcs are concerned," he said. "Now then, I assume you have plans for the provision of food and other necessities?"
"Is everything ok, Lady Soliana?" asked Dregor walking up to them, followed by three young men.
"Yes, Dregor," she said as she greeted him with a warm smile, "Everything is well. Jaro here was just advising me on the perils of heading north. He was also expressing his concern for the provision of food, water, and shelter should we require it."
Dregor looked Jaro up and down, as did his three companions, "Very well, m’lady. We think all of those seeking to follow you have exited the gates. They are now being closed. I think it best we put as much distance between us and the city as possible before we set up camp for the night."
"I agree with you, Dregor. We can ill afford to spend any more time close to the city than we already have. Tell the people to begin their march north. We will stay tight to the main roads so we can warn any travelers we might encounter on our way. Also, it will ensure none of us gets lost in the country side. The main roads will also keep us close to the river so we can continue to replenish our water supply. Make no mistake, Dregor, our journey will be difficult and full of danger. But I believe we will be successful."
"Yes, m'lady," responded Dregor and he turned to depart.
"See to it that we send our youngest and fittest ahead of us to scout for food sources. Feeding this many people will be no small undertaking," she said before he and his companions left.
"Yes, m’lady. I should think it will take a miracle," he said looking around at their larger than expected numbers.
"Miracles are for children's tales, Dregor. It will take planning and proper execution," she said as he turned back toward her.
"Right you are, Lady Soliana," interjected Jaro, "but I fear the closer we get to the Orcish lands, the more in need of a miracle we may become."
"Then we will be provided one," said Dregor confidently.
"Is that the case?" answered Jaro. "Just like that? Something or someone will provide us with a miracle? I guess that is why my life has been so difficult then," he said loudly.
"Do you mock the power of miracles?" said Dregor, firmly set in his belief.
"Certainly not," responded the lean man, "I merely do not believe in the validity of a God, or being, who has, as of yet, failed to show himself in my life. Without your god, one can only assume any miracle can be explained by chance. And when it comes to the Orcs, there is no chance."
"You are right about one thing," said Dregor.
"What is that?" asked Jaro.
"There is no chance," he said. Turning back toward Soliana, he asked, "With your permission, I would like to see to your instructions."
"Dregor, you do not need my permission," she responded. However, seeing that he did not move, she added, "but yes, please see they are executed. We have a long journey ahead of us."
As Dregor turned and walked away, his three younger companions following, Jaro asked, "Where did you find that one?"
"I did not. He found me," she said watching him leave.
"How long have you two been together?" he asked.
"Oh, we are not. I met him only earlier this very day," she answered.
"How can it be that a beautiful woman such as yourself remains without a man?" he asked.
Squaring her shoulders as if challenged, she addressed him directly, "The plague of men is not something I am unfamiliar with, though I currently find myself at peace and well without the affliction," she said.
"Then perhaps, m'lady will allow me the opportunity to change her perception?" he said, grinning slightly.
"As my companion Dregor so eloquently stated only moments ago, ‘there is no chance’," she said increasing her pace and walking to lead her refugees leaving Jaro to his own devices. She was hoping he would not follow, and when she noticed he did not, she felt relieved. She was no stranger to the company of men, even if only temporary, and although she did admit to herself that he was roguishly handsome, his company, or any man's company, was something far from her thoughts.
And then there was the complexity of her emotions for Eriboth. Hated and loved, blamed for both her pain and perfection, believed to be dead at her hand and then resurrected to the inclusion of her life, he currently stood at the outskirts of her ability to comprehend. Was there a greater purpose to his presence in her life? Why was she unable to, in spite of even the most drastic of measures, be rid of him? Though she did not believe in such things as fate and destiny, she was beginning to understand, if there were such things, then hers might be the unending torment of that man. Regardless of her confusion and unanswered questions regarding the nature of his inclusion into her life, she was not so deluded to ignore a singular truth - the gravity between them would likely never end.
As she walked at the lead of the refugee column, she could not help but acknowledge how absolutely fatigued she had become. Emotionally, physically, and mentally, she had been pushed to her limit over the last several weeks. In this moment, she, quite possibly for the first time, realized just how fortunate she had been to be trained under the harsh tutelage of Psumayn for all those years. Although they were some of the
most difficult times in her life since leaving the comforting confines of Nadalize and The Dragon's Lair, she had learned to appreciate them and the character they had helped to build.
Nadalize. How she missed her mother. She had not thought of her as much as she did Torrick, but the questions she applied to him were the same for her. Though she had long since left that life creating an utterly different identity for herself, she still, in this moment, lingered upon the warm embrace from possibly the only selfless person she had ever known. And a warm, completely selfless embrace was perhaps the one thing she desired most of all.
She had committed herself to being the sole power in her own life responsible for all decisions and consequences; however, now she was beginning to find, in spite of her attempts to free herself from the ties binding her to the forces outside of herself, specifically men, that she continued to be nothing more than the smallest piece on the Kinnock Guul board. But there was nothing to be done about it. The lives placed in her care were more important that any of those in her past. Not Matteus, not Psumayn, not King Rend, and certainly not Eriboth would prevent her from completing her current endeavor of protecting her refugees.
Under her direction and Dregor’s implementation, they quickly developed the necessary operational structure to provide enough resources, namely food and water, for the lot of them. They had designated gatherers and hunters, as well as water fetchers. And the land, almost as if sensing their needs, provided ample supply. Routine quickly began to rule. Any uncertainty and doubt regarding their successful means of providing all the basic necessities of life was beginning to be replaced by a quiet confidence that, as long as the woman on fire was in charge, there was no need to worry.
That did not stop her from worrying though. Over the first few days, they had learned that the stone keep had fallen and there were rumors that Lord Myosk himself was brutally executed at the hands of the leader of the Dark Army, a terrible man named Jesolin Khal. They had also learned, through rumors of course, that this Lord Kahl was not bent upon the destruction of the people, nor their enslavement, but stood for their freedom from the oppression of the nobles. Understandably so, this created a fair amount of dissention in the refugees as several of them became upset at leaving their lives behind based on dreams. However, though Soliana remained calmly adhered to their endeavor, it was Dregor's personal relationship with many of the refugees that galvanized their intents to remain with the group.
A few more days had passed and the mechanics of their journey continued to fall into a predictable routine. All was well except for one evening when the clouds opened up and let loose a short but powerful deluge of water. However, this bane, as it was first seen, was a definite blessing because the remaining four weeks of travel to the mountain pass would see them pulled too far away from the river to easily collect its contents. Soliana knew this and immediately ordered all containers to be filled with the water.
During the nights, for the most part, after she had personally seen to the condition of nearly all of those she had been given charge over, she was left largely alone. This was something she welcomed because it allotted her the opportunity to begin exploring many of her thoughts and emotions, not the least of which was the apparent resurrection of Eriboth. As she took what would be her final drink of water that night before slumber would take her, her thoughts drifted to their journey over the land on the back of a Dragon. And when her eyes finally shut with their intent to remain so, she would dream of the journey again.
"What happened?" she asked as the great beast leveled off from its powerful ascent into the upper reaches of the sky. She felt calmed now, much calmer than she had been when the Dragon used its powerful legs and wings to launch itself off the ground and climb higher than even the Scribe of Heaven. However, her calmness of mind did not translate to her gut as she still felt a small bit of nausea.
"The nausea will pass in time. The Dragon's magic will see you safe and cared for during our flight. Any apprehension you feel is not a condition of Him," said Eriboth as he sensed her discomfort.
"So, flying of the back of a child's myth has had no effect upon you?" she said with mocking sarcasm.
"By all means, it certainly has. Yet, there is something about dying and being sent back that puts many things into the proper perspective," he said. Though he was conscious of many things regarding his new found sight to see more than just the physical, he could not deny, he was very aware of her embrace around his waist to stabilize her position during their flight. He was aware of it, and he enjoyed it.
She sighed a very deep sigh. "Eriboth, there is so much to discuss, so many unanswered questions and so many emotions to reconcile, I do not know where to begin," she said through her sigh.
"Indeed, there are many things we must speak about, though I am not convinced they should occupy our time considering the current state of Avendia," he answered her unspoken request. He knew she looked to him for a beginning to their reconciliation, but he did not have one. As much as he had changed since his return, he knew he was still mortal, and just like she, he knew he was lacking when it came to their direction.
"Why?" she asked boldly.
"To which specific "why" are you referring? You must admit, there are several," he asked for clarification.
"Why did you not return?"
"My Lady Soliana, I did," he said.
"Lady Soliana, Lady Soliana," she heard a voice from the clouds as they continued to streak toward the Stone Keep. "Lady Soliana, Lady Soliana," said the voice again.
When she opened her eyes, she was, at first, confused by what she saw. Her dream, or memory, or whatever it was had felt so real that she did not question it, but just accepted it as where she was at present. So, when she saw the stars shining brightly against the moonlit, night sky, she became alarmed to the point of drawing the dagger that was always strapped to her thigh.
"My Lady, it is only me, Jaro," said the man as he stepped backward instinctively.
Righting her senses quickly, a forced talent for trained warriors, she sheathed her blade and sat up, "I am sorry, Jaro, I did not mean to threaten you."
"Believe me, it is I who am sorry for disturbing your sleep. I would not have bothered, but it looked as though whatever dream you were having was troubling you," he said as he squatted down.
"If you only knew, Jaro," she said as she momentarily stared into the night sky.
"Perhaps I can," he said, "I have often been told I have a talent for listening."
"I am sure you do. But perhaps another time. Now, what are you doing up at this hour?" she asked him now fully in possession of her wakened consciousness.
"In truth, I was simply looking for a private place to relieve myself," he said as he chuckled.
"Then I will not delay you any longer," she said.
"Well, as long as I have your attention," he said as he sat down next to her, though not close enough to be within reach of her rather quick dagger. "What are you plans once we reach the mountain pass? Do you still intend to pursue refuge with the Orcs?"
"We are headed north. That is all I can say for the moment. In regards to our refuge, we will find it wherever it presents. If it is with the Orcs, then it will be with the Orcs. If it is with another opportunity, it will be with that other opportunity," she answered him.
"I do not mean to question your leadership, m'lady, but I am not sure the majority of the refugees would have chosen to follow anyone's leadership if they knew it might place them in direct confrontation with the Orcs. Is there not another way?" he asked her.
"Of course, there is another way. There is always another way, but it is not our way. We head for the mountain pass and whatever fate awaits us there," she said with finality.
"'Whatever fate awaits us there'? Is that not an arrogant statement? Are you to decide the fate of these people who have followed you on a whim generated by a rousing speech?" he challenged.
"Arrogant? You think me arrogant?"
"I do
not know you well enough to think you arrogant, but your last statement was certainly built upon its foundation. Do you not think the better portion of wisdom would be to remain in lands that are predisposed to assist us rather than to cross into lands that have traditionally been hostile toward the entire race of man? The hostilities between Orc and Men are no secret. Or do you intend to adhere to your blind faith and dispute all forms of logic?"
Considering him for a moment, she realized that she did not know enough about him to consider anything about him. He was attractive in his broken, roguish way. His scar down the right side of his face portrayed a rough existence, but she sensed there were deeper scars yet concealed. His eyes were hard, the way life solidifies the fluidity of hope into a cemented understanding of a reality without it.
She knew that reality intimately. She had known it, lived it, and understood the burden of carrying it for so long. She knew he carried it too. "What happened?" she asked him.
Her question disarmed his ire and softened his eyes. They grew distant and mixed with the dual reflection of love and loss. "I was once married to a brilliant woman who represented everything good in this harsh world. And when I was so completely blessed, and believed I could not be any more so, she gave me a child. Her name was Illiana and she was as perfect as the moon. Pale and beautiful. Her hair reminded me of the golden wheat just before the harvest. Her smile lit up the darkness of this world and made me consider the possibility of something greater beyond our world. And her eyes, oh her eyes. They spoke of a purity far lost from our land. She was perfect. She was perfect and she was mine," he said as his eyes continued to soften.
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