Garn was surprised. The captain had offered information without his asking. “How long of a ride is it from here to reach the Citadel?”
Captain Bozlun studied him from horseback, saying nothing for a time. Then abruptly, he dismounted. “Give the reins to me,” he said, holding out his free hand. “I will take them with my own.
Garn passed them to him.
Jade reached for the halter on Captain Bozlun’s horse. Nearly jerking the reins from Bozlun’s gauntleted grip, the big warhorse snorted and shied away, his eyes wild.
“Here now! What’s got into you?” Captain Bozlun demanded, pulling the three horses together with a strong downward tug on the three reins. Without another word, Captain Bozlun headed toward a cluster of dark-armored soldiers.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Garn couldn’t help saying before the soldier had gotten far, though he didn’t expect a reply.
Captain Bozlun stopped, turning back, his curly hair springing back into place from the sudden sharp movement. “I suspect General Karnas will lead us south to Serpent Gorge and Serpent Falls, over to Black Bottom Ferry, and then follow the edge of Bracken Lake passing under both Silent Blade and Gray Dust. The route is longer and fraught with greater creature peril, but it will avoid the lawlessness of the settled areas and possible human attack from someone trying to aid the one you guard. Yet, I loathe following such a course. Even barbarians shy away from the Serpent and the dark water it flows into; it will cost us an extra day. Two days and three nights’ ride should see us at the Black Gate elite fighting man, providing you keep a sharp eye on your… charge.” Turning, he walked away leading the three horses. One, the horse Bozlun had ridden, was too weary to hold his head up.
“What’s wrong with his horse?” Jade asked softly. “The poor thing looked tired, is he older than the rest?”
“I don’t believe so; the man must have ridden the animal harder than needed. I have no respect for a man who treats his horse poorly,” Garn replied, watching him go and wondering at the enigma of the man. Captain Bozlun had shown respect by calling his weapon mastery elite, yet the veteran soldier had made it obvious he didn’t trust him by taking his and Jade’s mounts. Normally the two horses were high-strung, yet they followed as docile as sheep. Perhaps they sensed something in the man.
Garn gave up trying to understand and glanced around. The hillside was a flurry of activity. Soldiers led horses to sparse patches of greenery or dug holes in the hard earth with spiked hammers and thickheaded axes, while others lined the holes with rocks. Half a dozen others circled a set perimeter in pairs, working saddle cramps out of muscle while patrolling the outskirts of the thirty-soldier camp. Not all were male.
Some of the paired soldiers were a pair and walked simply for the short time of spending a semblance of aloneness together. Garn searched for a possible escape opportunity there but didn’t see one. They were too well trained and kept their eyes upon the task.
“Three days—” Jade whispered. “I can’t go back to the Dark Citadel, I won’t.”
Garn completed his visual inspection of the camp. No one wandered near them, though several cast looks in their direction now and then. “Did you hear the captain mention Gray Dust?”
Jade glanced his way sharply before catching herself and looking down. Good girl. Those watching would think he’d said something to make her afraid. “Yes, I did. How will that help us?”
Standing in the open was bound to draw added attention. He pressed her elbow gently in the direction of the farthest fire pit, the one closest to the horses. “Walk slowly but steadily, Jade. Gray Dust is the town I first arrived at on Astura; I know my way around it a little.”
Jade glanced quickly around and then put her head down once again. “We’re not going there, I heard the captain.”
“They’re not, but we are, as soon as I discover which direction the town is and night falls, things will happen fast, prepare for it. Be ready to gallop when I say. We have to flee by horseback.”
Jade flashed a quick smile and couldn’t keep her deep-green eyes from shining briefly, so alike her mother’s that the sharp pangs of grief and guilt tightened his chest. Whatever it took, he would make good with his promise to his daughter, unlike how he’d failed to protect Sureen.
On his knees, blowing the flame higher inside a nest of sticks and dried grass, the cook looked up when they halted at the fire pit closest to the horse picket line. Flint and a small piece of steel lay on the ground beside him.
Garn bent over a pile of kindling beside the pit and added tiny sticks to the flame, advancing its height slowly. The cook, a soldier Garn recognized as handling himself well during the fight with the rock beetles, grunted appreciatively and dragged a pair of saddlebags closer. Opening the largest, he removed its sole content, a wide black pot that he filled to the brim with water from two leather flasks.
When the flames leapt higher, Jade added a few wrist-thick branches, and the fire blazed, crackling with exuberance. Her survival skills had improved. Garn was surprised, though he shouldn’t have been. She’d had to survive on Astura for months; they all had. Training her a little at the farm back on Terra had helped, though he still didn’t know where he’d developed the skills himself. Not even the scientists had claimed a working knowledge of it, only reading about it. Garn missed those days.
When the flames lessened, the cook set the pot in the pit, letting the steel handle fall away from the flames and bang against the side. “Supper will not be long now, less than a bell for the water to simmer and heat up the stew. Why not stretch your legs around camp? I shall call you first when it is ready,” the soldier said. He sat a tee-handled hook, made to lift the cook pot for safe turning, on a bag and rummaged through another.
Garn motioned to Jade, and they strolled the perimeter passing close by groups of dark-armored soldiers clustered around the horses, standing together in twos or threes or keeping watch alone, staring outward at a certain area. He hoped to overhear the larger groups’ conversations as they walked and perhaps get an idea about the direction Gray Dust lay from where they were.
He was sorely disappointed. The moment they came within hearing distance, conversation stopped, continuing again after they passed. Completing a full circuit and starting a second, Garn kept his voice low; the presence of the lake had given him an idea. “Prepare to mount quickly, Jade, the time to make our move may come sooner than expected.”
Jade nodded, though fear scrunched her auburn brows briefly. “Will you have to kill?” she asked quietly.
Garn almost glanced at her. “Only if I must.”
“Where did you learn to fight, Dad? After watching you with those beetles, I’m not at all certain Camoe is a match for you, and he’s the best fighter I know. Crystalyn has said Hastel is good too, and I believe her.”
Garn felt like smiling but refrained. How had it come to discussing battle prowess with his youngest daughter? Something else occurred to him. “I’ve not met them, though I am certain I will. Are they someone you girls are mixed up with romantically?”
Jade’s face paled. “By the Great Father, no! Camoe is older than you are, I think. Hastel is a scarred and bitter fellow. He follows Atoi around as her self-appointed protector.”
“Atoi?”
“She’s a little girl, perhaps ten seasons… but not. You’ve never met anyone like her I’m sure. Crystalyn will tell you all about her.”
They were nearing another group of soldiers. “We’ll talk as soon as I get you out of here. For now, let’s gather information.”
This time the soldiers ignored them, going about their conversations as if the two of them had lost flesh and bones and floated by without corporeal substance.
A tall man with long brown hair had his back to them, but his hands moved with constant gestures. “I tell you Rall, Gray Dust has a master infuser now. Jard had dwelled there for some time working the glimmer shards, infusing them with the Flow, and
he’s gotten better.” Garn slowed. Two names caught his attention—the town and the infuser.
“Jard is old, it takes strength to infuse something beyond a glimmer shard,” a narrow-faced soldier scoffed. “Infusers master that level of infusion by middle adulthood or they never do.”
“Do you not know where the general got his sword infused? No? Well, if he lets us ferry to town, I’ll show you.” The soldier turned, staring off in one direction. “I imagine he’ll stop there like we did on our way to the Vale. Besides, the town’s in the way of our going to the Citadel. What would he have us do, wind our way along the blasted Serpent Gorge and follow the lakeshore after? Such a ride would be too long and too risky.”
They moved beyond hearing, but Garn didn’t mind. He now knew which direction the town lay and where they were going. East. Now all he had to do was arrange an escape.
BIG SISTER
Storming around the small fire centered inside the little grove of aspens, Crystalyn glared at the Lore Mother and then swept a lingering gaze across Durandas for good measure. “What do you mean she’s out of our reach? How dare you say that to me?”
Durandas winced. “The wright dropped your sister at the enemy’s camp. A regiment of the Alchemist’s men are now taking her to the Dark Citadel.”
Crystalyn threw a scathing look at the white-robed man. “Then why are we still here? Point me to the closest gateway, I’ll visit this Alchemist at the Citadel in person and convince him to return Jade.”
The Lore Mother frowned; her fine white brows scrunched together, her aged hands going to her hips. “You cannot go around strong-arming everyone on the planet.”
Donning her empress mask, Crystalyn smoothed her face. Wear the right emotional mask and people will respond. How easily the litany came to her lately. “I’ll ask nicely, at first. If he’s disagreeable, I’ll change his mind, quickly.”
The Lore Mother sniffed. “Even with your power, you cannot take on the entire Dark Citadel and hope to win.”
Durandas raised a palm. “Ladies, please. Let me finish. Jade is not yet at the Citadel. A company of dark soldiers is taking her there by horseback.”
Crystalyn was elated. With only that many out in the open, the people she had with her now could surround them. “Good! We have a better chance of getting her back from them. How many is in a company, fifty, sixty soldiers?”
Durandas shook his head as he folded his arms inside the wide sleeves of his robe, and his long white hair flailed from side to side. “There is not much over forty in a regiment, but that is not what I am attempting to convey. My man has already gained much on your sister’s situation. He has taken the Alchemist hostage to exchange for her, if needed. All they have to do is catch them, and they are close.”
Hastel whistled, long and slow. “That’s impressive. Many have tried to detain that one, none survived.”
Atoi spoke, her voice resounding as if from across a great chasm. “The hooded one’s place has not yet been ordained.”
Crystalyn eyed her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
The little girl regarded her as if noticing something about her for the first time. Standing out on her pasty face, Atoi’s deep-green eyes glinted bright. Broth sat on his haunches beside the little girl.
Through their link, Crystalyn asked, “What do you know about this man, Do’brieni?”
“My people know little, only that the Dark One, as he’s known in many places, is rumored to rival the late Lord Charn with power and foul deeds.”
Crystalyn considered her little group. “All right, everyone; summarize what you know of this hooded one. Broth hasn’t much knowledge. And Durandas, how close is close?”
Watching for scouts and message runners from the grove’s perimeter, Lore Rayna spoke first while glancing over her shoulder from time to time. “We know that after Lord Charn’s prolonged absence from the Citadel, the Alchemist personally killed or had those wishing to command assassinated. He is the great lord there.”
An acidic thought surged into Crystalyn’s mind, making her nauseated. “And I let Kara Laurel return to the wolf’s den when there’s no need. The alpha male has been removed, the threat of the Flow worms have been contained.”
The Lore Mother removed a hand from her hip, gesturing toward the smoke-filled valley. “That is by no means a certainty. The Alchemist’s Dark lords and generals could still perform the deed. Kara Laurel should rank high with them and may convince them to wait or even abandon the process. You have done right.”
Crystalyn regarded Durandas since the Lore Mother’s face was so hard to read with her glowing eyes, though the set of her mouth spoke volumes of the pride she harbored. “I take it you both will vouch for her. Is Kara Laurel an agent of the Circle of Light still?”
Durandas cast a pointed look around the little grove.
Crystalyn swallowed a scathing retort. Instead, she sighed, letting it draw out to show her patience. “You can speak freely in front of Atoi and Hastel, they have my complete trust. You’ll have to speak for my mom though; I’ve not interacted with her for six seasons, and that was before reaching adulthood.”
Hastel’s chest puffed at the compliment.
Atoi seemed as unconcerned as always.
Shifting her grip on her staff, Sureen stood silent; the white stone topping her staff reflected the sun’s last rays.
The Lore Mother’s radiant gaze turned to Durandas. “Tell her everything. She must now know.”
Durandas bowed to her briefly, his long white hair flowing over his blue eyes. Pulling it to the side, he flashed a hard look up at the Lore Mother. “As you will have it, Second Light. The consequences lay upon you alone.”
Crystalyn’s patience dissolved. “Blast you, get on with it! My sister travels further away the longer we delay.”
Durandas flushed, noticeable even in the waning daylight. “Very well, Kara Laurel is Third Light of the Circle of Light for those of you who are unaware of her esteemed position. She is only required to report to the two of us here on the Circle, which made it easy for her to vanish from Surbo right after you left, Crystalyn. No one had the slightest knowledge of her location until recently, when she attacked and killed many of our warriors.”
Crystalyn’s ire grew, building momentum. This time, she didn’t bother to push it away. “You bloody Circle idiots with your blasted secrets!” Stepping forward, she confronted Durandas. “Why didn’t you tell me this before I let her go?”
Thrusting her staff in front of Crystalyn, Sureen eyed Durandas. “Speak truthfully. Tell her why you believe Kara Laurel did what she did. We shall decide then if you have the right of it.”
The Lore Mother moved closer to the First Light.
Scowling, Durandas pulled his hands from his sleeves and clasped them together. “We have the right of it. Kara Laurel was charged by the Writhe to infiltrate the Alchemist’s domain, something she volunteered for after what happened to her daughter, Maialene.”
Spinning her staff vertical, Sureen rammed it into the ground. Then she leaned heavily upon it. “Are you saying Kara Laurel is a member of the Writhe, she’s one of us?” She regarded the Lore Mother. “Did you know this?”
“Yes, only the First Light and I have known.”
“Blast you both and your bloody secrets!” Sureen swore.
Crystalyn’s anger plummeted, displaced with confusion. “So what if Kara Laurel is part of the Green Writhe, does it matter?”
Sureen gazed at the First Light and the Second Light with narrow eyes. Neither one seemed to want to look at her. “Oh, it matters. The whole ideology behind the Green Writhe, as these two well know, stems from a strict adherence to the belief of working toward the greater good of Astura. To help fulfill such a large task, members have to know some aspects of individual missions to assist each other. The Green Writhe is a lifetime commitment, thus there is a need for a group of elite warriors called the Green Watch to monitor every kno
wn Green Writhe member. Not knowing who those members are defeats my warriors from eliminating them should they stray.”
Hastel choked. “This is not something two of us should hear. Let’s go, Atoi. You can help me with the care of the warhorse.” Hastel strode away, trailed by Atoi. The little girl followed without protest.
Crystalyn turned to her mother. “Is this why you abandoned your family, left us believing you were murdered or something, to come here and watch over these… these fanatics, Mom?”
Sureen straightened as if struck, though she kept her eyes upon the Lore Mother and Durandas. “Perhaps one of these two is better suited for a reply.”
Durandas’ shoulders drooped. “Sureen’s involvement is as long and complicated a story as any in our history. Selfish acts of bravery are central to it; I shall not do it the injustice of a short telling. For now, please accept that your mother did not return here willingly and with prior knowledge. The Green Writhe employed the desperate measures of sacrificing a gateway to bring back the greatest commander the Green Watch has ever known.”
Crystalyn glared at the white-robed man. “What kind of answer is that? Never mind, don’t bother with a reply. Once Jade is safe with us, you will tell me the whole story.” With difficulty, Crystalyn smoothed her features and reinstalled her empress mask. “From now on, I expect straightforward answers with involved explanations if needed from each of you or I’ll send you away. Am I understood?”
“You cannot mean that!” the Lore Mother protested.
“Oh, she means it all right. I stand with her,” Lore Rayna said. Leaving her post, she moved beside Crystalyn and folded her arms under her ample bosom.
Crystalyn’s respect for the big woman swelled. The vines making up Lore Rayna’s living dress didn’t know what to do with the woman’s abrupt movement at first, shifting to the bottom of her breasts before crawling back to something resembling decency. Like Crystalyn, Durandas averted his eyes.
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