Kendrick shifted uncomfortably again.
“I’ll send to Tav in Zelan, explain the situation, and ask him for troops. If she intends to defend her people in Adishian, she’ll have Lodenian support.”
“She didn’t go to Adishian,” came a voice from the open doorway.
Kendrick swiveled in his seat.
Jarrett stood there, supported by Earon.
“What are you doing out of bed?” demanded Farad.
“Hopefully not bleeding,” said Earon. They hobbled into the room.
Muzik rose and handed Jarrett into his seat. Kendrick wanted to shrink away, but Jarrett didn’t seem to notice. He slumped against the arm, grimacing in pain.
“Did you walk all the way from the healing house?” asked Thalandar.
Earon gave a disdainful nod. “We were quite a sight. Two cripples barely holding each other up.”
Farad motioned to Allistar. “Get a healer.”
“I’m fine,” said Jarrett through gritted teeth. “Please sit down.”
Earon limped to the first open chair, lowering himself into it.
“You shouldn’t have left the healing house,” said Farad again.
Jarrett leveled a piercing look on him. “I woke to a strange memory of you asking me where Tyla was. What did you expect me to do? Why did you have me sedated again?”
“To keep you from hurting yourself.”
Jarrett drew a careful breath. “Tyla didn’t go to Adishian. She’s going to Sarkisian.”
That brought murmurs of dismay. Tash seemed to sink further into the cushions.
“How can you know that?” asked Farad.
“The minute Tash gave her the emerald, she got the idea. She thinks the emerald will give her the power she needs to stop Rarick.”
Tash closed his eyes.
Farad reached over and clasped Tash’s arm to comfort him. “How do you know this, Jarrett?”
“Kendrick’s right. We share thoughts.”
“But you can’t contact her now?”
Jarrett shook his head. “She’s been blocking me, keeping me out.”
“And you can’t force your way in?”
“No, not when she’s determined. I’ve done it only once, but she quickly found a way to stop me after that.”
“Her thoughts weren’t guarded when she got the emerald?” asked Thalandar.
“No, but the minute she knew I shared them, she blocked me.”
Everyone fell silent in contemplation.
Finally, Earon broke it. “This is my fault.”
Only Farad glanced at him.
“I goaded her, I taunted her when Jarrett was hurt. I compared her to Rarick of Sarkisian.”
“Apparently, she had this idea long before that,” reasoned Farad. He rubbed his chin. “I still say our path is the same. I’ll send to Tav and ask for troops. Obviously we’ll have to end our neutrality regarding Sarkisian.”
Jarrett curled his arm around his midsection and shifted in the chair. “No disrespect, Stravad Leader, but that isn’t good enough. Tyla fears Rarick more than anything in the world. She thinks the emerald will be the equalizer, but there’s no guarantee. We have to stop her before she gets to Sarkisian. Waiting for troops isn’t going to work.”
“What do you suggest?”
“I’ll go after her.”
Tash looked at him, his eyes tormented.
“You can hardly sit in that chair.”
“I’ll go with him,” Kendrick heard himself say. “I have some skill at healing. I can look after the wound.”
Farad just stared at them. Muzik nudged Kendrick asking for a translation. As he gave it, Earon looked at Jarrett. “I know how to get you into Sarkisian without using the main gates. You’ll need me.”
“You said you’d never go back?”
Earon laughed bitterly. “Yeah, well, I made this mess. I guess I have to clean it up.”
Muzik thumped a fist on the table. “I go,” he said in Lodenian.
Allistar leaned forward. “They’ll need a guide here in Loden and over the Groziks. By your leave, Stravad Leader, I would ask permission to go as well.”
Farad considered the matter in silence. Kendrick felt Tash’s eyes pass over him. He lowered his head further in shame. Finally, Farad shrugged his shoulders. “Here’s hoping you’ll be able to stop her, but if not, know there will be an entire regiment coming behind you. It’s time we finally made Rarick answer for his crimes.”
* * *
Hedly ran a circle around the anvil and pirouetted out into the stable, letting her blue dress bell around her. Finebar laughed and returned to straightening the shoe. The ring of metal on metal filled his head with sound. The smell of hot iron always soothed him and the rhythm of his strikes lulled him into a half-waking dream.
“Grandpa, Grandpa,” came Hedly’s excited voice some minutes later.
Finebar blinked behind his thick glasses and let the hammer drop to the anvil.
She hurried to his side and tugged on his arm. “Come see the Princess,” she said.
Finebar rested a hand on her brown hair and let her drag him toward the stable doors. A woman stood, silhouetted in the afternoon light. She was slight, only a head or so taller than Hedly. As he moved from the darkened stable, his eyes adjusted and he drew in an audible breath.
The woman was Stravad and beautiful. Her thick black hair hung in a braid down her back, wisps escaping to curl around her face. Her eyes were large and green, a green he’d never seen before. Although her clothing was dusty, she held herself with a regal carriage. No wonder Hedly thought her a princess.
He whipped the filthy hat from his head and bowed. “My lady, how may I be of service?”
She glanced down the street. He could see the anxiety in her expression. Looking down the street himself, he wondered if she had an escort nearby. She turned back to him with those piercing green eyes.
“I need…” She thought for a moment. “Foods and paper with names…ah…”
By her accent, Finebar knew Lodenian wasn’t her native tongue. “Paper with names?”
She made a motion with her hands as if she was opening something.
“Oh, a map. Are you going on a journey?”
When she looked at him puzzled, he modified his words. “Are you going on a trip? Away?”
“Of course, Grandfather, she’s going to her castle,” offered Hedly.
The woman smiled at the little girl. She was beautiful before, but her smile made her radiant. Something clenched in Finebar’s chest. “Yes, away.”
“Alone?”
The smile faded. “Yes.”
Finebar didn’t know what to make of this, so he chose to say nothing. “I can get you a map.”
“And foods?”
“And food.”
She looked beyond him into the stable. “I need horse…” She shook her head in frustration. “Two horse. Away is far.”
“I can get you a second horse too. You aren’t going to leave right now, are you?” He looked at the failing sunlight. “It’ll be dark soon. I could show you to the inn. You could get a hot meal and a bath.” He made a washing motion.
Her eyes danced. “Yes, bath.”
“And tomorrow morning, I would have all the supplies and the horse ready for you.”
Her face clouded over again. She reached into the pocket of her pants and pulled out a silk bag. Opening the mouth of it, she poured the contents into her hand. A pair of green Lodegem earrings and something that looked like a bracelet spilled out.
Hedly gasped. “I told you she was a princess.”
“Can you make money?” she asked, holding out the jewelry.
Finebar’s eyes shifted from the gems to the woman’s face. “I can exchange it, if that’s what you’re asking?”
“Exchange.” She rolled the unfamiliar word around her tongue.
“If you’re sure?
“Yes, sure,” she repeated. Then she reached for his hand and placed th
e gems in it.
Finebar hefted them, then handed them to Hedly. “Go put them in the box in the back room, then run upstairs to your mother. I’m going to take the Princess to the inn.”
“Can I tend her horse?”
“You can help me later. Just tie her horse outside for now.” The woman followed the conversation, but Finebar wasn’t sure how much she understood. He gave her a smile. “I’ll take you to the inn now.” He motioned up the street.
She grabbed the pack off the horse and patted her, then watched as Hedly led her to the post. Finally she fell into step at Finebar’s side. He kept his stride short to accommodate her. He couldn’t believe how tiny she was. What was a lone woman doing riding into a town like Anatem with no money and very little command of the language? He hated to think of his own daughter or granddaughter in such a predicament.
“You come from Temeron?” he asked as they stepped up on the boardwalk.
“No, Adishian is home.” He heard the wistful tone in her voice. He didn’t know much beyond Loden, but he didn’t remember there being many Stravad in Adishian.
“You going back?”
She gave him a puzzled look.
“You going home?” he amended.
“Yes,” she answered, nothing more.
They came to the inn and Finebar opened the door. “Welcome to the Blue Bear Inn.” The interior wasn’t fancy, but it was clean and the clientele wasn’t as shady as some of the others. Mainly there were no whores plying their trade in the lobby.
The innkeeper eyed them as they crossed the room to the desk. Leaning on the counter was one of the town drunks. Finebar felt his stomach sink. He avoided Mead whenever he could.
“Would you looky here?” said Wakely, the innkeeper. “Smith’s got himself a piece of tail.”
Finebar bristled at the comment. If the lady understood it, she gave no indication. She was surveying the establishment with an anxious expression. For a moment, Finebar thought to invite her to his own home, but she was a stranger and his daughter would have a fit. Roseline hadn’t been of a charitable nature since her mother died last year.
“The lady would like a room and a bath,” he said through gritted teeth.
Both Wakely and Mead surveyed her head to toe. Finebar fought his anxiety. She was so damn small and alone. No woman should ever travel unattended, especially a woman like this.
Wakely smiled. “I don’t sell by the hour.”
Finebar banged a fist on the desk, making them jump. He leaned close to the innkeeper. “She’s boarding her horse with me. That’s all. She needs a room for the night, a meal and a bath. Tell me how much. And make sure it’s a room that locks.”
Wakely held up his hands. Finebar knew he didn’t want to tangle with the larger smith. “Don’t get all huffy. I was just happy for you s’all. Your wife’s been dead a long time.”
“Just get her a room,” snarled Finebar.
He reached into his own pocket for his wallet. He didn’t have time to exchange her gems, but he had enough to see her through the night. As he counted out the money, Mead moved closer to her, eyeing her up and down. Finebar tried to keep him in his peripheral view as he haggled with Wakely.
“Hey, Smith, if you don’t want her, mind if I take a crack,” he said. “Poor little thing shouldn’t be alone all night. Pretty thing like her needs a man.”
“As if you were one,” laughed Wakely, counting Finebar’s money.
Finebar tried to keep an eye on both of them. He wished he hadn’t brought her here. “You make sure she has a cross bar on her room, Wakely,” he warned. “And have one of the women bring her water for her bath and a meal.”
“Yeah, yeah, don’t be an old woman, Smith. We’re just funning her.”
Mead reached out and ran his hand across the glossy braid hanging over her shoulder. “I’m not funning. A woman like this needs a man. Don’t ya, baby, don’t ya want a man?”
As he lowered his hand to her shoulder, Finebar turned, his fist clenched, but suddenly Mead was thrown backward as if someone had grabbed him by the seat of his pants. He slammed into the chair behind him and the chair skidded across the wooden floor, smacking into the wall of the inn. A dusting of plaster rained down on him.
As Finebar and Wakely stared in amazement, the lady closed the distance between her and Mead. When she leaned over him, Mead shrank back, his eyes wide.
“No,” she said in a level voice. “No, I don’t want man.”
Finebar gave a chuckle and turned back to the staring Wakely. “I guess that settles it then.”
* * *
Kendrick carefully cut the bandage away. Jarrett’s wound seeped yellow pus and when Kendrick pressed it, the Terrian sucked in a ragged breath. They were one day out of Anatem by Allistar’s map. Four days in the saddle hadn’t done Jarrett any good.
“I think it’s infected,” he said, reaching for the salve the healers had given him.
“I just need some of those red leaves you Stravad love so much,” said Jarrett through gritted teeth.
Kendrick glanced at the fire. Allistar was working over it. “Stamerian? Allistar’s getting it.” He looked over to where Muzik tended the horses. Only Earon was in ear shot. “Jarrett?” he began, forcing himself to meet the Terrian’s eyes. “We haven’t discussed what happened.”
“There’s no need.”
Kendrick reached for the clean bandages. “I have a need. I never meant to do this to you. I never meant to cause you harm. I just wanted to show you that my training was as good as yours…that…”
“Let it go, Kendrick. I don’t blame you.”
Kendrick couldn’t let it go. It haunted his every waking moment; it haunted his sleep. “I need to explain this. Please.” Jarrett closed his eyes, but he didn’t try to stop him. “I just wanted you to know that I was as skilled as you are. That’s all.”
Jarrett’s eyes flashed open. Kendrick was always startled by how blue they were. Stravad eyes. No mistaking it. “I said we didn’t need to discuss it, but since you won’t let it go, let me tell you a story.”
Kendrick swallowed at the lump in his throat and nodded.
“When I was seven, I was eating dinner at the table with my family. I dropped my milk and it spilt. My father grabbed his knife and held it to my throat. He told me he was going to kill me.”
Kendrick’s brows lowered. He didn’t understand what this had to do with anything, but Jarrett’s expression was feverishly urgent. Glancing around, he noticed the others had stopped what they’d been doing. They were listening intently now.
“My mother went hysterical, and my sisters and brother begged him not to do it. He only got more agitated.” Reaching up, Jarrett slid back the opening of his shirt, exposing his right shoulder. A faint white scar marked the edge along his collar bone. “He stabbed me here.”
“I’m sorry…” began Kendrick, but Jarrett shook his head fiercely.
“Not long after that, I went to live with Tyla’s uncles. The first time Shandar put a sword in my hand, I decided no one would ever be better than I was. I was obsessive in my training, Kendrick, to the point where it occupied my entire life.”
Kendrick’s frown deepened. He wasn’t following the point of this story at all.
“I was so sure of myself that I became arrogant. I taunted you when I shouldn’t have. And I got sloppy. What happened in Temeron was my mistake, punishment for my arrogance. You were the lesson to teach me humility.” He drew a deep breath and shifted painfully on the hard ground. “The only thing you owe me is your help. You’ve got to keep me held together, so we can find Tyla. Nothing more.”
Kendrick nodded, although Jarrett’s story did little to elevate his guilt. Still he wound the clean bandages around the Terrian’s middle and secured them. Over his head, Allistar handed Jarrett a mug of Stamerian.
“You look like hell,” muttered the Stravad in Lodenian.
Jarrett sipped at his drink. “Because I’m not as pretty as a Temerian Stra
vad?”
“Well, that is true. Still I think you should have stayed behind.”
Jarrett met Kendrick’s gaze. “Kendrick will keep me patched up,” he said.
* * *
Finebar saw the riders through the door of the smithy. Two Stravad, two Humans, and one mixed blood. Beside them was a dog.
Settling his hammer on the anvil, he wiped his hands on his apron and stepped out of the building. The men reined in by the stable gate and one of the Stravad dropped to the ground. He had white blond hair, worn long like a Lodenian. He absently stroked the dog as he moved toward Finebar. The smith was torn between keeping his eye on the dog and accepting the hand the Stravad held out to him. He was glad Hedly was in school. She’d want to pet the beast.
“He friendly?” he said, nodding at the animal.
“Within reason,” answered the Stravad. “We need to board the horses for the night. We also need a doctor. Do you know of one?”
Finebar surveyed the men again. The mixed blood sat hunched in the saddle and his skin had a grey cast to it. “You need a place to stay for the night?”
“Yes.”
“The Blue Bear Inn is the cleanest place in town. I can fetch the doctor for you.”
“We’d appreciate that. And the horses?”
“Done.”
The Stravad reached for a strip of leather around his neck and removed a pouch from beneath his shirt. “How much do we owe you?”
“You can pay me tomorrow when you pick up the horses.”
One of the Humans, a massive man with ham sized hands, dropped to the ground and went to help the mixed blood from the saddle. The wounded man nearly toppled to the ground.
“You think he’ll be ready to ride tomorrow?”
The Stravad glanced at his companion. “We don’t have much choice.”
With the support of the Human, the wounded man stopped in front of Finebar. His eyes were unfocused and his face was flushed. “Have you seen a woman?” He made a motion with his hand, indicating her height. “Stravad. Green eyes.”
Finebar leaned back, surveying the men with suspicion. “She do that to you?” he said, pointing to the side the man was favoring.
“No. She’s my wife.”
The World of Samar Box Set 3 Page 45