The World of Samar Box Set 3

by M. L. Hamilton

  Amaroq’s quarters were at the farthest end, the last cave on this level. He outdistanced his friend and arrived at the entrance where the curtain had been pulled back on the failing day. Amaroq’s family had one of the larger caves with individual partitions blocking off sections, so each member of the family had privacy.

  In addition to a cook fire, Amaroq’s mother had a stove that her mate had bought for her when Amaroq was a child, building it piece by piece himself. She also had a cache of water in a barrel next to the shelves that housed their cooking utensils. Her mate had also built the privacy screens and besides the regular shelves all Tirsbor Nazarien had to hold their clothing, each member of Amaroq’s family had a chest that could be locked.

  Turning into the cave, Amaroq came up short. Light shown from the bowls affixed to the walls, illuminating everything. Amaroq’s mother was huddled in her favorite chair by the fire, while Nakoda’s mother, Honora, sat next to her, her arms around her friend. His mother’s mate paced behind them and Nakoda’s younger brother, Elian, sat in the corner, chewing on a crust of bread.

  Amaroq scanned the cave for his sister, but she was nowhere to be seen. A feeling of dread spread through him and he moved toward his mother. “What’s wrong?”

  Her eyes snapped to his face, then she looked over her shoulder at her mate.

  The large man with the thinning blond hair and the hooked nose moved toward him. “Wolf, we’re glad you’re back.”

  Nakoda entered the cave then and stopped. “What’s wrong?”

  Tears raced down both women’s faces. Amaroq moved toward his mother, but her mate intercepted him. “We need you to stay calm.”

  Amaroq lifted his eyes to the older man. From his earliest memory, Shandar had been a part of their family, providing for them, taking care of everything. They’d lived better than most women and children because of him, because he was always there. No other Nazarien woman in Tirsbor had a permanent mate. It was another thing that separated Amaroq.

  “What’s wrong, Shandar?” he said, trying to keep the fear from his voice. His mother’s grief, Honora’s sadness, Shandar’s worry all battered at him, made him want to shut himself away.

  “Naia…”

  “Where’s Naia? Where’s my sister?” He looked around Shandar at his mother. “Where is Naia!”

  Shandar placed his hands on his shoulders, drawing his attention. “We’re not sure. She went out with the patrol to gather greens. They went beyond the canyon and were attacked.”

  “Attacked? By who?”

  “We don’t know. The warriors believe they were Human.”

  “Human? Humans attacked them outside of Tirsbor?”

  “They were ambushed.”

  Amaroq shook his head, not comprehending. “How many were captured?”

  “Just Naia.”

  “What?”

  “She didn’t hear them coming, didn’t hear the cry of warning. They attacked so quickly, the warriors had no time except to defend themselves. They scattered and came back here. It took hours before we knew that Naia didn’t return.”

  Amaroq shook off Shandar’s hands. “This can’t be.”

  “The commander sent out two patrols looking for her.”

  “No! This can’t be. Why was she allowed to go with them? Why did they make her go if they weren’t going to protect her?” This just reinforced to Amaroq why it was bad to leave the protection of the canyon.

  “It was her rotation to go,” said Shandar, attempting to sound reasonable.

  “No! No!” Amaroq turned and headed for the door.

  “Wolf!” cried Shandar, trying to stop him, but he ignored him, stepping out onto the parapet and moving toward the closest ladder.

  Nakoda followed, then came Shandar and his mother with Honora bringing up the rear. Amaroq climbed to the highest level – the level of the elders and the council and the Tirsbor commander. The level reserved for the highest of their order, the level denied him unless he was acting in his capacity as a minister. He didn’t care. All he could think about was his sister, caught by Humans. He couldn’t allow himself to think what they might be doing to her.

  He threw open the door flap, startling them. The elders looked up from their spots at the table, the commander rose to his feet.

  “Amaroq, you should not be here!” he said forcefully.

  Amaroq stormed up to the table and slammed his hand down on it. “I want my sister! Now!”

  Tovan held up a hand to forestall the guards from removing him. “We’re working on that. I’ve sent out two patrols…”

  “How did this happen?”

  “She didn’t hear the warnings. They shouted for everyone to scatter, but she didn’t hear them. The Humans captured her before she even knew what was happening.”

  “Why was she taken beyond Tirsbor?”

  Tovan held out his hands, palms up. “She must earn her keep, as do we all.”

  Amaroq went still. His eyes passed over the elders, the council that decided all things within the canyon. They’d all had a hand in training him, teaching him the languages and the histories and the lore, but now they wouldn’t look at him.

  “I’m going after her,” he said, fighting down a rush of fear. “Give me a map, so that I can find my way beyond Tirsbor.”

  The commander folded his hands before him. “I can’t allow that.”

  “You can’t allow it?”

  “You’re too important to us, Amaroq. I can’t allow you to risk yourself this way.”

  “But you could let my sister go? You could send her beyond the protection of our people to earn her way?”

  He didn’t answer.

  Amaroq slammed his hand on the table again, making them jump. “Answer me!”

  “She’s a woman and…”

  “And?” He glared around at them, but they still wouldn’t meet his eyes. “And!” he shouted.

  “And defective,” said Tovan.

  Amaroq straightened. There it was. There was his answer. They would never let him go. He felt it in their demeanor, he knew it in every fiber of his body. They would do everything in their power to keep him, but they didn’t know him. They didn’t know anything about him. His sister and his mother were his life, the only things he had.

  He turned and walked back to his mother, putting his arm around her and guiding her to the door. She slumped against him, her body shuddering with tears. He left the council, he left the elders, without looking back.

  They didn’t know a damn thing.

  * * *

  Amaroq waited until the watch died down. He lay on his pallet, peering around the partition, watching the warriors patrol back and forth. It was warm enough that no one minded the curtain remained pulled away from the opening. Besides that, Amaroq’s mother was so despondent, she hadn’t even noticed when she finally collapsed on her pallet and cried herself to sleep.

  Shandar had finally gone to sleep himself. Amaroq waited to hear the older man’s snores, but so far there was nothing. He couldn’t wait much longer. He figured it had to be beyond the middle of the night now, a couple of hours until sunrise.

  What he was about to do terrified him. Going beyond Tirsbor, leaving the canyon he’d lived in his entire life, over thirty years. He wasn’t a child any more, he was a man, but he knew nothing beyond his home. Still, the thought of Naia out there, the thought of what they might do to her was more than he could stand. The pain of his mother, the worry of Shandar, they pushed him beyond the cave, made him want to flee and he knew he’d never be able to live with himself if he didn’t do something.

  Sliding out from beneath the covers, he grabbed a few changes of clothing, his fire-starting kit, and his favorite knife, strapping the knife around his waist. Then he folded up the Human coat Shandar had bought him one winter and stuffed everything into a knapsack. Sliding his feet into his soft-soled shoes, he rose and crept out of his alcove into the family area.

  He didn’t bother with food. He figured that would
be sure to wake his mother, and he knew he might have to resort to hunting, but he did snag the empty water skin hanging from a shelf and slung that over his shoulder, then he headed for the entrance as if he had every reason to leave at this time of night.

  He peered around the entrance and watched the guards making their way down the parapet to the ladder and begin climbing. They had two more levels to patrol before they’d start their descent again, just enough time for Amaroq to make his escape.

  He sensed a presence behind him and turned.

  Shandar stood there, a pack slung over his own shoulder.

  Amaroq shook his head. “I’m going alone.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  Amaroq glanced at the pallet and marked that it was empty. His mother appeared at his side, passing a smaller sack to him. He knew it contained food. “You can’t go with me, Shandar,” he told the older man.

  “The patrol just passed. We don’t have time to argue.”

  “Let him go with you. You can’t go alone,” said his mother. She caught his face in her hands and kissed his forehead. “You need someone with you. You’ve never been beyond Tirsbor.”

  Amaroq fought down his immediate protests. He didn’t want to hurt Shandar or his mother, but their anxiety, their worry were making him edgy. “I’m going alone.”

  “Not in this, you’re not. I raised your sister as my own. I’m going after her whether I go with you or not.” Shandar paused and gave him a severe look. “You’re wasting time.”

  Amaroq exhaled. “You’re too old. I don’t know how long we’ll be gone.”

  “I’m aware of that.”

  “What about my mother?”

  “She asked me to go.”

  Amaroq shot a look at her.

  She moved forward and hugged him. “I can’t lose both of my children,” she whispered against his chest. “Please let this be.”

  Amaroq glared at Shandar, shaking his head.

  Shandar didn’t challenge him, just bent and pressed his lips to the top of his mother’s head. She turned and threw her arms around him, hugging him tight.

  “Be safe, love,” she said and lifted her face for his kiss.

  Amaroq took that opportunity to slip out of the cave, but he hadn’t even made it to the ladder when Shandar caught up with him. He could still move fast and silent for a man of his advanced years. Amaroq had a grudging respect for that.

  They climbed down in silence, Amaroq keeping an eye open for the guards, but they met no one. Once on the ground, they jogged to make it to the shanties on the edge of the river. From there they’d meet no more patrols until they made their way to the entrance of Tirsbor. If they made it.

  Amaroq had very little hope that they’d find their way out of the maze without a map. If it hadn’t been so risky, he’d have searched the council cavern for one, but he couldn’t chance it. They’d just have to follow instinct and hope they found an exit before they either starved to death, or more likely, died of thirst.

  Well, he would. He had no intention of taking Shandar much beyond the stream.

  As he neared the shanty, a huge shadow moved to block his way. Amaroq swore under his breath and Shandar dropped into a protective crouch, but the shadow simply stepped into the moonlight, a huge smile lighting the massive face.

  “I knew you’d wait until the guard dropped down to a minimum,” said Nakoda.

  Amaroq grabbed his arm and drew them both into the darkness between the shanties, glancing back at the cliff’s face for the guards. He could just make out his mother’s small form, watching them from the parapet, her hands curled on the railing. He motioned her back inside and she went.

  “I’m going alone,” he said, turning back to them.

  “You’re not going without me. We’ve done everything together our entire lives,” said Nakoda.

  “This is my mission, my journey, and I’m going alone. I don’t need anyone slowing me down.”

  “Who’s slowing you down? I’ve never slowed you down before, besides you need someone good with weapons.” He motioned to the bow slung over his shoulder.

  Amaroq glared at Shandar. “Go back to my mother.”

  “No. You have no authority over me, boy. I go where I please.”

  “You don’t go with me!” He caught himself as he realized his voice was rising. He didn’t want to draw attention. “Please Shandar, I have no idea what happened to Naia, who took her, and I have no idea how long I’ll be gone.”

  “Which is why you need me with you. I’m not as old as you think.”

  “You are. You’re exactly as old as I think. If you die…”

  “I won’t.”

  “If you die, I’ll never forgive myself.”

  Shandar leveled a look on Amaroq and the younger man couldn’t deny the pulse of his grief. “Your sister’s like a daughter to me. You and your mother are my only family. I’m going with you or without. I hope it’ll be with you. I have a few skills you might need, and something else.”

  “What else?” Amaroq crossed his arms over his chest. “What could you have that we don’t?”

  Shandar gave him a slow smile. “The way out.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Aiden opened the door of his private chambers and peered down both ends of the hallway. Breathing a sigh of relief, he eased the door open a little farther and stepped into the hall, riding boots in hand. Shutting the door as carefully as he could to make no noise, Aiden tiptoed down the hall and to the enormous staircase. Again he peeked over the rail, but everything was quiet on the floor below.

  His stocking feet made little sound as he hurried down the stairs and to the marble floor of the entry way. Again he checked both sides and padded into the next hallway. He went swiftly now, sure he wouldn’t encounter any servants in this wing so early in the morning.

  Rounding behind the kitchens, he eased through the service entrance and halted on the porch, glancing up at the starry sky. He breathed deeply of the clean, pre-dawn air. How he loved this hour before daybreak when the entire world was new made and quiet. Pulling on his boots, he trotted across the yard and to the stables.

  The huge stable door creaked on its hinges as Aiden eased it open and he stopped, glancing up at the castle to see if anyone had been alerted. All lights were off and there was no sound. Breathing a sigh of relief, he slipped into the stable and waited for his eyes to adjust to the starless darkness.

  Dancing Thunder nickered in the distance as he caught the scent of his master. A pulse of excitement snaked its way up Aiden’s spine. He hurried to the horse’s stall and opened it. Immediately the animal pressed his nose to Aiden’s chest, snuffling affectionately.

  Aiden stroked Dancing Thunder’s mane and then set about saddling him. Aiden’s father, Alton, would never have saddled his own horse. Neither would Aiden’s two brothers. Adison thought himself too good and Alasdair was too weak. But Aiden loved the feel of the leather under his fingers, the ripple of Thunder’s muscles as he drew the cinch tight.

  “I should have been a farmer,” whispered Aiden in Thunder’s ear. “Not a damned King.”

  The horse nickered again and tossed his head, his black mane shimmering in the darkness.

  “You agree, eh?” said Aiden, grabbing Thunder’s bridle and leading him from his stall. At the door to the stable, Aiden peered out one last time, then forced the door completely open.

  The sky was already beginning to lighten and a lantern had been lit in the castle. Swinging astride Thunder, Aiden turned him toward the distant hills rising behind the castle and the horse broke into an easy canter.

  Aiden met no one on the road out of Dorland and he was grateful. He didn’t want to be burdened with niceties on his early morning rides. He chuckled to himself, feeling free and just a little wild. Even Lyell Vito didn’t know about his early morning rides with no guards or retainers. And it was a secret he intended to keep.

  Once they reached the downs beyond Dorland, Aiden gave Thunder his head. The h
orse sprang away, his muscles stretching and lengthening. Wind whipped through Aiden’s blond hair, blowing it back away from his face. Lifting himself in the stirrups, Aiden leaned forward over Thunder, their bodies moving as one.

  Faster, faster! urged Aiden, and as if he read the thought, Thunder tore away over the field.

  They rode until a stand of oaks rose up to block their path and then Aiden eased back in Thunder’s saddle, causing the horse to slow his pace. Gently Aiden pulled back on Thunder’s bit, bringing the horse down to a trot, then a walk.

  The trees closed in on them as Aiden steered Thunder through the thicket. They came to a stream they always drank from and Aiden swung out of the saddle, crouching beside the horse and cupping handfuls of water to his mouth.

  A fine sheen of perspiration had broken out along Aiden’s forehead and down his back, and his heart was pounding from the excitement of the ride. Leaning back on his heels, Aiden watched Thunder drink thirstily.

  “Beautiful, beautiful animal,” breathed the King, drawing a deep breath to slow his own panting. “That was just what I needed after yesterday.”

  The horse lifted his head and nickered. Aiden smiled and sat back on the bank, looking out over the brook. Dawn was breaking in the sky, a gradual lightening of the blackness to a pale pink. Aiden breathed deeply again. Already he could sense the coming heat of the day.

  Peace teased at him, followed by a fierce need to run away from everything – the castle, Carona, Lyell Vito and Adison. How much better life would be if he could just disappear into the land, hunting for his food, drinking his fill from the stream, only himself to worry about. Then he thought of Alasdair. What would happen to his sickly brother if he left? And what would happen to Dorland? Despite his protest, Aiden loved Dorland and worried what Adison might do to the beautiful city if he were in control. Raise taxes – that was a foregone fact. How many times had he berated Aiden about increasing the taxes?

  Aiden scrubbed his hands over his face and sighed. No, he couldn’t run away. Not now and not ever. He was tied to Dorland and the kingship for the rest of his life, or at least three more years if he didn’t beget an heir soon.