“Please sit down. You must be tired and hungry.” Larone gestured to the banquet.
John found himself sandwiched between Gaylee and Lyrista, with Mica, Garrett, and Larone opposite them. The two serving girls brought warm, moist towels so each diner could wash, then Larone began passing the food.
“Your accommodations are prepared,” the dignified healer explained while they ate. “I thought the soldiers would be more comfortable staying in the barracks with their comrades.” The two men nodded in agreement. “The Ladies Gayleena and Lyrista will be in the private section next to my chambers and Healer John in the guest room within my chambers.”
Good. John approved. That would give the two of them a chance to speak in private.
The dining room doors opened. A lone soldier entered the hall. Using a cane for support, the man limped partway in, then scanned the room, and upon spotting the small group, hastened to join them.
Lyrista gasped when she saw the newcomer, nearly upsetting her chair as she flew from the table to meet him. “Cordon!” she cried.
“Lyrista!” His face split into a wide grin. They embraced each other fondly, then with her arm around him for support, came to the table.
“Lady Gayleena, I’d like to present my brother, Cordon,” she said proudly. He tried to bow, but Gaylee quickly stopped him.
Rising, she extended her hand. “I’m honored to meet you, and wish to express my deep appreciation for everything you tried to do for my family.”
Cordon took her hand, kissed it, then shook his head in protest. Before he could give voice to his thoughts, John interceded, “Please, won’t you join us. We’ve heard great things about you. I’m John Ernshaw.” He held his hand out and Cordon shook it firmly. John immediately liked the man.
After sitting, Lyrista explained to Cordon how John had helped Reese and saved Jeema. John noticed how intently Larone listened, as if hearing the story for the first time, but he knew better. He was certain that not many events happened in Esparia that Larone did not know about.
When Lyrista finished, Cordon openly appraised John. “I owe you a great deal of thanks.”
“I did what I’m trained to do, but I’m glad I could help your nephew after all you’ve done and sacrificed for Lady Gayleena’s family,” John said.
“Speaking of family,” Gaylee said to Larone, “what of Daenon? It’s been over a week since the attack on Saylon Dorsett. What precautions are being taken to keep the western borders safe?”
“I knew of the massacre the day after it happened. Within an hour of my information, I sent two hundred volunteers to spy out Demar and eight thousand troops to reinforce the border. I have contacted the High Older at Ider Hoffle asking him to send what men he could to each of the larger border tierns of Verdure and Ramana to organize militias. Our people are constantly on guard. Several of the spies have returned. They tell me Daenon is gathering his troops well within the Deserts. He has not begun to amass them along the borders. He must surely know we are watching for him, and an invasion force would not go unnoticed, as it unfortunately did eight days ago.”
Suddenly, Larone looked old. His shoulders drooped and his face filled with sorrow. “Gaylee,” his voice faltered, “I am so sorry. We had no idea so many of the Elitet crossed over our borders. I would be dead myself, if not for an emergency here at Ramadine delaying my departure. It was the yearly summit meeting at the Dorsett, with the entire governing council. Now they are all dead. We did have a few hours warning, and I sent a trusted messenger to warn Haesom, but he arrived too late. The battle had already begun. The cursed night hindered my sending a carrier bird. Everything worked against us.”
“I don’t hold you responsible, Larone,” she said gently. “No one could have foreseen that day, or that someone would betray you.”
A somber mood fell on the group. “If your protectors and governing council are gone, then who’s running your government?” John asked Larone.
“I am. But I cannot do it much longer. It will not take long for shock to wear off and the grieving period to end. My authority will be challenged, as it should be. I am not a legal Protector.”
Little more was said. Each person had their own thoughts to contend with.
When the meal came to an end, Larone turned to Cordon. “You and Lyrista have much to talk about. Would you please show the soldiers to the barracks? I am sure Lyrista would like to accompany you.” To Lyrista he explained, “Many of your former pupils have expressed concern for your safety. We heard about the attack on your party. Your wound is healing, I assume?”
“Yes, I’ve had good care.” She blushed slightly.
Addressing Cordon once again, he finished, “When Lyrista is ready to retire she will be staying with Lady Gayleena in the guest rooms adjacent to my own.”
With a nod of understanding, Cordon led the soldiers from the hall. Garrett asked about the regiment’s meal schedule just before they exited through the main double doors.
Gaylee and John followed Larone through a small side door. “This route is closer and more private.” The three of them walked in silence down a short hall that was lit by several tall, thick candles and up a flight of stairs. Turning to the right at the second level, Larone stopped in front of adjacent doors. “Gaylee, your rooms are here on the right and mine are on the left. Please come into my chambers after you freshen up.” She nodded, leaving the two men in the hall.
Larone opened his door and walked in, with John right behind him. They entered a small sitting room that looked a great deal like a library. Two of the four walls were covered, floor to ceiling, with books of every size and color. Two stuffed chairs, a small square table and several candle stands, already lit, finished the simple furnishings and décor.
Visibly tensing up, Larone turned to face John. “You have every right to be angry with me,” he began. “I stole the one person who meant everything to you, without warning or permission. I will make no excuses. You have seen the aftermath of what my nephew is capable of in Reese, Jeema and Cordon. I am a desperate man, desperate for my country and desperate for my people. Your daughter is the one person who can defeat Daenon.” The man’s entire face pleaded with John to understand.
The sincerity in Larone’s voice vanquished the last of John’s anger, but the frustration he felt for nearly a week came tumbling out. “Anger is not the emotion I’m feeling right now, so rest assured I’m not going to hit you, but why? Why Jessica? You say she can defeat this Daenon, but what gives you the right to make that determination? Why not Gaylee? I’ve come from a six day journey with Gaylee and have seen how the people respond to her. They don’t even know Jessica. Why would they rally to her, she’s a child?”
“She is a young woman,” Larone corrected. Shaking his head, he sighed. “I cannot explain what I feel, but I know without her we can never win.” John rolled his eyes. “John.” Larone’s voice took on a stern tone. “I knew Gaylee would follow Jessica. I also knew you would come with her.”
“Me? Look Larone, don’t change the subject. Jess is a kid. I’ve come here to bring her home.”
Before Larone could respond, a sharp knock at the door begged their attention. Gaylee strode in, a concerned look on her face which melted away upon seeing the two men standing together. “I’m glad there’s no blood. Larone, I thought for a while John might do you bodily harm.”
“And I would have deserved it.” Larone pulled both of the chairs back from the wooden table in the center of the room. “Please, sit.” Gaylee took the one closest to her. John shook his head, preferring to stand. With a deep sigh, Larone took the second. “John, Varnack is with your daughter. I would, and have, trusted my life to him. You have never met Anton, but trust me when I say he will find her, if he has not already done so. He is a mountain of a man, a formidable fighter with excellent instincts. When you meet him, do not let his appearance fool you, he is much more than what he seems.”
“Larone, what happened to Anton?” Gaylee asked. “Ly
rista told me about his wild man looks and his reclusive lifestyle. He never used to be like that.”
“I do not know.” Sadness filled his voice. “The change came fifty years ago, after the battle of Blue Mountain, when Segal was found dead and his forces defeated. I have asked many times what pain he carries, I feel it in him, but he refuses to answer. His work is his only true passion.”
John was irritated. His few moments alone with the old gentleman were unsatisfying. The only real information Larone gave him was that he knew John and Gaylee would follow Jessica through the spiral. And that only fueled John’s frustration. How could he have known such a thing? How could he claim to feel another person’s thoughts from light years away? It was all a bunch of garbage. Still annoyed, John excused himself.
Lying on a comfortable bed in the guest chamber with the muffled voices of niece and uncle drifting through the closed door, John mulled over Larone’s words. So he knew John would come, did he? Gaylee’s homecoming was understandable, but him? What did that crafty old man have in mind? John extinguished the candles lighting his room. Yeah, Larone was crafty all right, but heaven help them all…John’s gut still said to trust the old guy. He tried to clear his mind, but thoughts of Jessica, a golden Trigal hound, and transmirian spirals continued to barge their way in. After staring at the ceiling for an eternity, he finally fell asleep.
Each day that went by began with John asking Larone about Jessica. The answer never varied. “No news, but that is good.” To keep sane, John kept himself busy at Ramadine. In the mornings he worked out with the soldiers, beginning his first lessons in swordsmanship alongside a batch of new recruits. There were some private lessons with Lyrista in hand-to-hand combat and dagger training. He was a little rusty, but after two sessions she could no longer beat him in hand-to-hand. However, combat use of a dagger was not his specialty and she cut him several times.
He surprised everyone, especially Cordon, by placing second in the daily archery contest. “I’m used to bows and arrows,” he explained. “Where I come from, I’m a hunter and I use a bow, not a gun.”
Cordon looked at John with interest. “What is a…gun?”
John was taken aback; the word ‘gun’ came out of his mouth before he realized what he had said.
“It’s an instrument of death.” The explanation seemed to satisfy Cordon. Maybe Gaylee was right. He shouldn’t introduce something new where the basic discovery had not yet been made by local scientists. He would guard his speech in the future.
The afternoons were filled with classes on Edian herbs and medicinal plants. He toured Larone’s impressive laboratory where he learned how they made some of their antibiotics and medications. In turn, John taught Larone about some of those found on Earth.
One day John showed Larone his watch. “Shallenon gave me this timepiece just before she died. It stopped working in the Transmirian spiral. Gaylee thought someone here might be able to fix it?”
Turning the watch over in his hand, Larone examined it closely. “There are several fine craftsmen here who can repair this. The band is very functional, I myself, carry a daykeeper in my robe.” He extracted a small, silver circlet from a pocket at his side.
“You have a watch?”
“If a daykeeper is a watch, then yes. Most men and women carry them in their pockets. Yours may be a little different from ours, but I am certain it can be made functional again.”
“Great.”
“I want to speak with you about Cordon,” Larone said. “His wounds are healing nicely, but he still limps. Twice I have mentioned he needs to strengthen the leg, but I do not know if he completely understands the importance. He is too young.”
John was surprised. He never would have categorized Cordon as being young. By earth standards, the man looked to be in his late thirty’s. The shock must have shown on his face for Larone laughed, a full, deep resonating sound. “By our standards of aging, Cordon is young and I have found the young do not always take care of themselves as they should.”
John pursed his lips. “Cordon’s not much younger than me. Do you think I’m a child?”
Larone laughed again, his eyes twinkled with mirth. “Do any of us ever really grow up? I look in the mirror and an old man stares back at me. But inside, I am in my youth.”
“You avoid my question; actually you have a knack for it.”
“In a word…no. You are no child.” He smiled, a gleam in his eye. “However, you still have far to go, but you are on the right path.”
“Right path? I don’t know Larone. Few minutes go by without my wondering what I’m doing here.”
The older man nodded. His smile relaxed. His face reflected wisdom and patience that can only come with age. He looked at John, his eyes slightly squinting. John knew that look; he had seen it several times now. He was learning that it meant ‘Wait a while longer, and you will come to understand what I already know’. The look annoyed him.
“Okay,” John sighed, “I’ll look at Cordon. There may be some therapy I can help him with.”
“Thank you. I think he will listen to you.”
Summoning Cordon to Ramadine’s hospital, John examined his leg and other wounds. As Larone indicated, the various stabs and slashes were nearly healed, causing John to once again marvel at the recuperative abilities Edians had, but the leg needed work. Having been thoroughly shredded, the muscles had reknit, but the massive amounts of scar tissue lacked flexibility and needed stretching.
“You need to bring elasticity back to the muscle with some exercises I have in mind,” John said.
“You sound like Larone.”
“I’ll tell you what, teach me some moves so I can hold my own against Lyrista’s dagger, and I’ll help you with your leg. I’m sure we can use some of the same actions for both purposes.”
CHAPTER 13
Protectoress
The morning after the Elitets attacked, Jessica woke to bright sunlight streaming down on her through random gaps in the forest canopy. The three men in her party were already up, packed, and ready to go. She realized they had allowed her to sleep as long as she needed. “You should have wakened me, but thanks, I think I needed the extra rest.” Anton and Ophir smiled, while Reese gave a single nod.
When she rose to her feet, a painful throbbing in her right side shocked her. She ignored it. She took hold of her blanket to shake out the dirt and feather needles before packing it away, but the moment she raised her arms, the throbbing spiked to a stab, tearing through her chest. Stifling a screech, she caught her breath, then gingerly felt her ribs. Unsure of the full extent of the damage, she surmised at least one, probably several, of her rib bones were cracked. Oh no…no, no, no!
Yesterday, all her pains blurred into one, but now, with the adrenaline rush worn off and no one needing her attention, Jessica felt every tender point in her body. She was not about to tell anyone though. Nothing could be done for cracked ribs anyway, other than wrap them…and she was out of bandages. After stuffing the dusty blanket in her knapsack, she headed for her already saddled horse.
Two of the Elitet horses were harnessed together with a blanket secured between them. Ophir and Reese lifted the wounded Varnack onto it. With Anton also injured, Varnack could no longer ride on his back. Jessica went to her furry friend.
“How ya doin?” she asked. He opened his eyes, they were full of pain. A sympathetic tear slid down her cheek. “I’m sorry I don’t have any purple fern for you. At least I stopped the bleeding in fair time, you should be better soon.” She reach up to stroke his fur, but shockwaves of pain rolled through her own chest.
“You’re hurt!” his thoughts came to her. He tried to rise in the blanket. “You rest, I walk.”
“No.” This time she brought her hand up and held him down, biting her lip so as not to cry out at the sharp pangs near her right lung. “Look at your paw, you’re lucky it wasn’t cut completely off. You won’t be able to travel on that for several days, at least. Don’t make me get Uncl
e Anton after you.”
He snickered at her weak attempt at humor. “Anton? Too weak, hurt bad.”
She scratched behind his ears then turned toward Web. The captured Elitet happened to be positioned between her and Web. He sat tightly bound to his horse, a gag in his mouth. He stared straight ahead, his face calm, with every muscle relaxed. When she started toward him, he looked directly at her. His dark eyes narrowed when he focused on her face and she was suddenly grateful he was gagged.
From behind her Anton said, “The doogeroot wasn’t talkin’ nice, so we silenced him. If ya can’t say anythin’ nice, then ya shouldn’t say anythin’ at all.”
“This guy’s dangerous.” She turned toward her uncle.
“Yeah,” he nodded. “But, so am I.”
She thought of her uncle as warm and kind, but realized he was also lean, strong, and very well trained. Yes, he could be exceptionally dangerous. The Elitet became insignificant. Yet Jessica circled wide around the prisoner. She found when she drew near him, a sick, cold feeling welled up in the pit of her stomach. When she reached her horse, she moaned. “Oh Web, how am I ever going to get up on you,” she whispered. “I can hardly walk.” She leaned her forehead against his large neck and rested, trying to summon up the courage to heave herself onto the animal.
“Help, J’ca.” The horse whinnied, but Jessica heard the words in her mind.
“Oh, please.” she whispered in astonishment. “I could use any help you could give.” In response, he shifted around to nuzzle her chin with his nose.
The men, mounted on their horses, waited patiently for Jessica. Reese’s lips parted in surprise when Web knelt down on his front legs and lowered his body as close to the ground as he could. Ophir’s eyes grew wide at the strange sight, but Anton looked on with keen interest while Jessica carefully maneuvered into her saddle. Only after she settled onto his back did Web rise and join the others.
Jessica tried to appear cool, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened, but the throb in her side forced her to breathe in short, shallow gulps and she clutched at Web’s mane to steady herself. When they left the small meadow, Anton followed unusually close behind her.
The Protector of Esparia (The Annals of Esparia Book 1) Page 18