“Run,” Gwyn said as she picked up the bow in her right hand and backed away from the threat, expecting Yury to follow. An arrow whizzed by her ear. She turned to see that Yury had left her, charging forward into the fray. An arrow now protruded from his thigh, and several soldiers surrounded him. With her wound, she couldn’t use her bow. Only one thing left she could do.
She darted around another building, taking a moment to steel herself against the pain that now throbbed in her forearm. Sounds of soldiers approaching forced her to dash around another building, looking to escape.
Ahead, several horses were tied to a hitching post. She sprinted into action and a moment later, she was atop a black mare, galloping for the hills. As she left the area, she passed several wagons outside the village, nearby soldiers shouting at Gwyn as she galloped past. The wagons had cages. Children were inside. They looked at Gwyn with panic in their eyes. What did soldiers want with children, and why would they destroy an entire village to get them?
It took little time to evade the few who followed her on horseback, laden as they were with armor and gear. She found a vantage point to watch the scene from atop a high ridge, miles away, where she and the horse each caught their breath. The once-clear sky was becoming shrouded with the smoke from the village.
The wagon cages soon rolled to the east, followed by many soldiers. To Fairmont, probably.
Oh, Anne, what have you gotten me into now?
Hopefully, the boy would survive and get medical care before his leg wound festered. She looked at her own wound. The arrow had pierced the meat of her forearm but had not touched bone. She dismounted the horse and reached to the rear of the arrow, bracing the arrowhead against the saddle and breaking the shaft. Pain lanced up her forearm, but she didn’t pause, immediately pulling the shaft free of the wound. As the blood flowed, she reached into her belt pack to retrieve some ground herbs from her pack. She mixed them with spit to form a paste that would prevent infection.
She wrapped the arm with bandages, and while it would likely heal, it would be useless for a time. But she had a horse and a task to perform. Save the boy. Yes, she could do that.
But where were they going?
4
Intercept
The small city of Took hosted a home for children, but to call it an orphanage would have been generous, as small as it was. Even so, Nara was grateful for the elderly woman who met her and Mykel at the front door following their knock in the middle of the night.
“We found her in a village to the north,” Mykel said. “Everyone was dead.”
An anxious expression crossed the woman’s face. Not of surprise, but more like fatigue. She sighed. “It’s not the first village to fall,” she said, “but they don’t usually leave the children.”
“This one hid,” Nara said. “I found her in the bushes.”
“I’ll take care of her,” the woman answered, rubbing her eyes then reaching for the girl who still clung tightly to Nara.
“It’s okay, little one,” Nara said. “She’ll take care of you.”
The girl relaxed, then reached out for the old woman, who received her.
“I don’t know her name,” Nara said. “And we don’t have any money to give you.”
“Thank you, dear. We’ll be fine.”
“Who is doing it?” Nara asked. “And why?”
“Nobody knows,” the woman said, then closed the door.
As they walked away, Took began to quiet itself–shops closing and streets emptying. Nara also felt empty, as if she should have done more for the girl, or for the old woman. A subtle anger seethed within her. This horror was Kayna’s for sure. Something must be done, but she couldn’t act, not yet. She was needed elsewhere.
“We’re not going back to the cavern,” she said. “We don’t have time. Dimmitt needs us now.”
“Your vision could have been a mistake,” Mykel said. “You’re new at this stuff.”
“They don’t work like that.”
“You’re not ready,” Mykel said.
“I know. Doesn’t matter.”
He shrugged. “We sleep. Then straight south?”
“Yes.”
They spent the night under an abandoned wagon in a field on the south side of Took. Huddled up to Nara for warmth, Mykel fell asleep quickly, but Nara could not, troubled by thoughts of the vision and what it might mean. When the sun rose again, she couldn’t remember having slept at all.
Running south from Took through the mountainous region was rough. The melting of the snows had created rivulets that crossed the road, eroding the dirt and crushed rock of the road under their feet. Nara twisted her ankle more than once with a misplaced step, yet she was undeterred, flaring health and continuing for hours, urgency spurring her on, Mykel following closely behind. They rarely stopped even to drink water from passing creeks, exchanged no words, and didn’t slow when they passed merchants or travelers. How odd it must have been to see two young people sprinting at a supernatural pace toward them, passing by, then disappearing over the horizon.
At midday, they stopped for a long break at a creek to drink water and wash the sweat from their skin.
“This is going to take days,” Mykel said.
“Then it will take days.”
They didn’t say anything else, and when they hit the road again, the urgency in Nara’s heart had faded a touch, tempered by Mykel’s words. It would indeed be days until they reached Dimmitt. They could not fly like birds, and many miles separated them from their home. This would be a marathon, not a sprint.
Though their pace didn’t slow much, the second half of the day seemed to stretch forever. They passed several small villages that seemed unharmed, which was a great relief.
When darkness finally settled in, they slowed to a walk. The life in the bushes and grasses on the sides of the road could be seen in Nara’s special vision, guiding her, the images in stark contrast to the dullness of the dirt and rocks on the road.
“We chase evil people,” Mykel said, breaking the silence.
“Evil?” Nara asked. “Maybe.”
“Maybe? Of course they are.”
“I used to think that people could be evil, Mykel, I really did. I think that’s what we want to believe. Makes it easier.”
“How can you say that, after what you’ve seen?”
Nara took a deep breath.
“Anne used to believe in evil. A long time ago. But she changed her mind and decided that nobody’s really evil.”
“How’s that?”
“Evil is a label. It’s how we see actions that hurt others. Or actions that hurt us. But how many people deliberately hurt another simply to see the pain? To delight in another’s torment? I agree; that would be evil, but nobody does that.”
Did they really chase evil people? She kicked a rock to the side of the road and thought about Mykel’s comment. It was hard to articulate what she was thinking because Nara only half-believed it herself. Anne had shared her thoughts on this matter, however, and they warranted consideration. As she thought about her sister and the conflict they were in, the topics of good and evil, right and wrong had often been on her mind.
“Kayna and the king,” Nara said. “They did horrible things, but each with a purpose that served their own interests. It seems evil when you’re a victim, or when someone you love suffers, but these are just horribly selfish actions. Some people take what they want and don’t care about how it affects others. I don’t know if evil is the best word. I like selfish much better.”
“Maybe,” he said. “Doesn’t matter.”
“I think it does.” She stopped walking and Mykel turned to face her.
“Let’s say Kayna ordered those soldiers to do what they did,” Nara paused, taking a deep breath, then continued. “What if they defied her? Let’s say they just told her, ‘Hey, powerful magic Queen. I don’t think I will.’ What would have happened to them?”
“I don’t know.”
“I bet
you can guess.”
“Punishment,” Mykel said. “Death, maybe. Or their families killed.”
“Exactly. Family punishments are quite common for crimes in the Great Land. The soldiers who murdered those innocent villagers may have been thinking that they were saving their sweetheart, or a child, or a mother. If a soldier kills but thinks he has no choice or that he is actually saving someone, is he evil?”
“I didn’t think of it that way.”
“Or a warrior? When he fights in a war, he kills another man. Someone’s son, perhaps. In the mind of the mother who loses a child in war, the other army is evil. Any warrior that puts a sword through her precious son’s heart is evil, right?”
“I guess.”
“And which side of the war is the evil side? Which warriors are righteous, and which are the dark ones? They can’t both be, so which?”
“Sounds like you and Anne have been talking more than you’ve been training.”
“We have,” Nara said.
“I’m not good with words like you, but I think there are evil people. I really do. Kayna. The king. Those soldiers. What they are doing. I don’t know what else to call it.”
“Do you think I’m evil?”
“Of course not!”
“How you think Gretchen Wipp feels about me?”
Mykel’s jaw went slack.
“To her, I’m more than evil. I’m a monster. I’m the creature who sucked the life out of her sweet husband. A dark thing, a demon.”
“But you didn’t mean to. You didn’t think you–”
“Exactly. When I did that terrible thing, I didn’t think,” she continued, her voice strained. “I just acted. Did what I wanted, without considering the cost, the risk, the bigger picture. I took Amos Dak’s life to save you. To save me. I was so focused on our need that I didn’t even realize I was harvesting the life of another person. Fear drove me. Panic. Selfishness. Not evil. At least,”–her voice quieted–“I hope not.”
Mykel moved closer and put a hand on Nara’s shoulder. “Bitty, I–”
Nara pulled away. “See what I mean? To Gretchen, I will always be a horrible thing. In her view, I’m as evil as evil gets.”
“I see your point,” he said. “Reminds me of Pop. He was a good man, folks say, until my mother died. Not evil. Just hurting. But killing innocents? Burning them? Stealing children? That’s different.”
They started walking again, not saying much as Nara thought on her own words. She believed them, sort of. There was wisdom in them, but she wondered if she repeated them to convince herself of something. That she was salvageable. Or perhaps having such thoughts invited hope for the future. Maybe these soldiers were really just good men dealing with bad times and wouldn’t inflict their harsh orders on her precious town. Perhaps they would leave Dimmitt alone. A futile hope, perhaps. The vision of Dimmitt’s doom was powerful, carrying a certainty and dread because she may not be able to do anything about it. Where was Dei in all of this? Didn’t the God of this world care about the suffering of His creations?
The last light of the sun dropped over a mountain peak and Mykel slowed his pace.
“It’s dark,” he said. “I’m following the sound of your footsteps but can hardly see a thing.”
“Use your staff. Or I can flare light if you want.”
“We should rest, Nara.”
“I want to keep going.”
He was right. Flaring health all day long had drained them. They were tired and would travel faster if they could get a few hours of sleep. She sighed. “Okay.”
Nara found a fallen tree, probably pushed over by a high autumn wind, and they made camp in the hollow below. At first, she worried that a fire would attract hostile attention, and her mind flashed to the ambush that nearly killed Mykel months ago. Then she dismissed the concern. They were no longer vulnerable to such things.
She found wood nearby and dragged the sticks and logs into a pile. She summoned the fire rune to her thoughts, extended her fingers and flared the rune. Flames leaped from her fingers, quickly setting the wood alight. As she moved to sit, she glanced at Mykel, his eyes wide.
“What?” she asked.
“Um, I just never saw you do that before.”
“Oh.”
Of course. He had been unconscious during the fight in the castle. He never saw her kill the king. What a shock it must be to see fire magic now.
“Gwyn told me what happened, but I never heard it from you,” Mykel said. “You just said you killed him. But it was incredible, apparently. More than you let on.”
She didn’t respond, not wanting him to know how that happened, how she’d swelled up like a goddess with the power of the king’s armor and used it to extinguish him like a gnat under her shoe. How the power of so much life energy felt as it coursed through her, delicious and unending. Delightful power. She had enjoyed the feeling, and even now she missed it. It helped her to understand why Kayna killed people, taking their magic, consuming the energy in their souls. It had felt good, and that was a horrible thing. Perhaps that was the purest evil of all.
She didn’t want Mykel to know any of that. And she didn’t want it to affect their relationship, though that was a silly wish. How could it not? Young men often sought to be stronger than the girls they loved, clinging to old notions about saving damsels in distress. Mykel might be the most powerful young man in the land, and no doubt he would have similar thoughts. Yet, just now, he looked at her with amazement. Or was it fear?
The wood crackled as they settled down on opposite sides of the flames. The shifting light from the fire illuminated Mykel’s face in odd ways, shadows falling across his hair and nose, making him look like a very different person.
“I don’t know what I’m doing, Mykel.”
He didn’t answer.
“We should have gone to Dimmitt long ago,” she said.
“Anne said no. You’ve learned a lot, but you’re not very good using the new runes. And gifted await us, out there. Racers, bears, and who knows what else?”
“Well-trained gifted. Big difference. And I tire when I use runes. ‘Be efficient,’ she keeps saying. Then I use strength or speed, and I fatigue so quickly. I’m exhausted right now. But Sammy needs us.”
“Sammy is strong, Nara. And smart, for a kid. He should be okay.”
“Nice try, but you are as worried as I am. Probably more.”
There were no sounds of travelers pushing through the night on the road above them, only trickles from a nearby creek as it carried away the winter snows. Nara listened to the water and eventually, she was able to quiet her thoughts enough to sleep.
Hours later, Nara woke to see the sun barely peeking over the horizon. It dallied, coming late this time of year, rising slowly to cast its red blanket across the sleeping hills and mountains. Mykel snored across from her, smoke from the failed fire filling the hollow with its acrid odor.
She yawned and stretched, having rested far too little for the running her body had endured. But her mind was too busy to quiet itself again, so she rose and gathered more wood, then stoked the dying coals in an attempt to resurrect the fire. After a few moments, new flames began licking the logs. She reached into her pack and grabbed another biscuit, then took a bite as she watched the horizon, wondering what the day would bring. A few moments later, Mykel stirred.
“Good morning,” Nara said.
He smiled.
“Sleep well?”
“Not at all,” he said, rising and grabbing a biscuit. “We should get going.”
Growing sounds from the road above interrupted their breakfast– sounds of horses moving closer, a wagon rolling, and men walking and talking.
Mykel smothered the flames with a few handfuls of dirt as Nara snuck up the incline to peek at the travelers.
Soldiers. Nara counted a dozen of them marching along the road, accompanied by two figures in robes, leading a wagon that bore an iron cage. Inside the cage were children.
�
�No,” she muttered. “How dare they?”
Mykel joined her as they viewed the approaching group. The growing light would reveal them to the soldiers as they passed by in a few moments, but two travelers should be of little interest to such men. She could stand there and do nothing. No conflict. No screams. And the children would remain in that cold cage and be carried off to some terrible place, away from their village, away from their families. If they had any family left.
Mykel left her side and when he returned, he held the ivory staff.
“Don’t kill them,” Nara said.
He didn’t respond.
“Please,” she said.
She tore her eyes away from the cage and turned to Mykel. His lips were pursed, and his eyes held a harsh look.
“I mean it, Mykel. They’re just following orders. They may have families.”
Mykel stepped up onto the road and took a wide stance directly in the path of the oncoming soldiers. Nara joined him, standing at his side. As the entourage came closer, a soldier on horseback broke from the others and walked forward. A chain mail coif hung loosely about his neck, and in the dim light of dawn, Nara noticed dirt encrusted on his armor and fatigue in his eyes.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he said with impatience as he stopped his horse a dozen paces away. The rest of his troop stopped behind him.
“What village did you steal them from?” Mykel asked.
“That’s no business of yours,” the man answered.
Nara flared the sound rune to amplify her voice–a trick Anne had shown her. Not very useful in combat, but it would make an impression. They would know she was gifted, and this might end without bloodshed. “Let them go,” she said, her voice booming.
The soldier’s face tightened in surprise, then he smiled. “Interesting trick, but you’re two against twelve. Move aside.” He gave his horse a gentle nudge in the ribs and it inched forward, but neither Mykel nor Nara moved. Nara sensed the anger rolling off Mykel in waves and she hoped he could restrain himself.
The soldier was only a few paces away when Mykel leaped forward, high into the air, and took the man off his horse with a single punch to the midsection. The stunned man fell to the ground, his armor impacting the dirt and rocks of the roadway, stirring all to surprise.
Finding Kai Page 3