by Tamie Dearen
*****
“Laethan!” Kaevin called to the healer while rolling the body off Jireo onto the floor. Laethan lifted his hand in acknowledgement, busy with another injury. The large chamber was bustling with activity. Kaevin felt anxious to join the battle. To fight and use his gifting. To feel valuable again.
“Where are we? This doesn’t look like the healing house I remember,” said Alora.
“We moved it to a safer location, far from the square,” Jireo said. “Vindrake would have no qualms about attacking the healing house during a battle. Remember… he set it on fire? And it’s a better chamber—much larger, close to a well.”
Freed from his encumbrance, Jireo struggled to his feet, holding his broken hand gingerly away from his body.
“Ewww… gross.” Alora’s face paled at the sight of Jireo’s skewed wrist. “Jireo, I think you’re going to need surgery. We should probably take you straight to Montana.”
“It’s merely a broken bone. I’m in no danger of dying now that I’m not hanging off that roof. I’ll not be running away from a battle because my hand is hurt. All I need is something to bind it.”
Holding his arm to the side at an awkward angle, Jireo embraced Kaevin. “Thank you for saving me. I hoped you’d somehow know to come.”
Kaevin returned the embrace without spoken word. He missed Jireo more than he realized during his time away. Yet he was distracted by something. Something different. My headache is gone. When did it disappear?
“Alora, does your head hurt?”
Her eyebrows rose. “No, not at all. It must’ve gone away when we got here. I wish we’d known that would happen.”
Laethan arrived before they could further explore the issue.
“Hey Laethan. Are you surprised to see us?” asked Alora.
He raised an eyebrow and nodded toward the far corner of the room. “Your friends arrived first and warned me of your imminent appearance.”
Kaevin was relieved to see Wesley and Beth working alongside one of Laethan’s assistants.
Laethan inspected Jireo’s hand. “Broken wrist. It’ll never heal properly.” He slowly moved the hand, approximating the bones into alignment. Jireo bit his lips, his face ashen, but didn’t make a sound. Laethan issued orders to his assistants, and soon Jireo’s arm and hand were cocooned within a bundle of reeds and bound with cloth.
Meanwhile Laethan squatted to examine the body at their feet. “This fellow’s still alive, although probably not for long.”
“He’s alive?” Alora knelt beside Laethan, peering at the Water Clan warrior who was now face-up on the floor. “He’s just a kid. Kaevin, he looks your age. We should definitely take him back to Montana and save him.”
“He’s Water Clan.” Kaevin replied.
“And he tried to kill me,” Jireo added.
“Maybe he didn’t mean to,” Alora argued. “He looks like a nice guy.”
“Who looks like a nice guy?” asked Beth, arriving at the scene.
“This Water Clan warrior who attempted to kill me. Alora wishes to transport him to Montana and save his life.” Jireo held up his bandaged arm.
Her eyes grew big. “Is that the reason you called Kaevin and Alora? Because that guy was trying to kill you?” She moved next to him, checking for other injuries.
“No, I didn’t… What are you talking about? I didn’t call Kaevin and Alora.”
“I would describe it as a compulsion.” Kaevin’s eyes narrowed. “I felt I had to get to you, or you would die. How do you think we’re communicating with one another? This isn’t the first time.”
“I don’t know how I could have spoken to you in the other realm, unless you’re developing the gift of farsight.” Jireo fingered the blond stubble on his sparsely bearded face.
“So this warrior tried to kill you?” asked Beth, kneeling down to examine him. “He seems pretty young, to me, but he has a lot of muscles. You must have been amazing to beat him, Jireo.”
Alora dropped back to her knees beside Beth. “Wow, he does have a lot of muscles. Does he look evil to you?”
Kaevin tried to hold his temper. He certainly didn’t want Alora admiring the young man’s muscles. “It’s not about whether he looks evil. He is evil. He’s Water Clan. He has the bondmark. I know you can sense it, Alora, even though he’s unconscious.”
“I sense the bondmark, and the bondmark feels evil. But he doesn’t feel evil to me.”
“Good people of Stone Clan are dying while we’re arguing over him.” Kaevin was on the edge of losing control.
“We can’t just leave him here on the floor, waiting to die.” Alora’s voice took on that stubborn edge it got when she was being unreasonable.
Laethan pushed the girls out of the way, arriving with two other men. “No worries, Alora. I’ll not let a man die without attempting to save his life, no matter his clan. Still, we must bind him in case he awakens. With his blood loss, it seems unlikely he could hurt anyone, but we can’t take chances.”
“Come Alora—we should go.” Kaevin tugged on her arm.
“Where did Wesley go?” asked Beth, standing on tiptoes and peering from side to side.
Kaevin scanned the room, spotting Wesley behind a support post with his back toward them. He was obviously in intense conversation, gesturing wildly as he spoke. Kaevin craned his head to get a better view.
“He’s over there. Who’s he talking to?”
“It’s my sister. I saw her hair—no one else has tangles like that.” Jireo was already moving toward the pair. “What’s she doing here?”
The other three followed him to the far side of the healing house.
“Jireo! I’m glad you’re okay. I was worried about you.” Arista wrapped him in a hug.
He grasped her arm and pushed her back, examining her from head to toe. “Arista, what’s that bandage on your leg? And why aren’t you at home with Mother?”
“I got my first genuine battle wound,” she stated proudly. “It was an arrow, and I’m fairly certain I killed the man who shot me. You never told me how badly it hurts. I swore when it hit me, but I didn’t cry at all. My eyes watered, but that’s not the same as crying. I’m a warrior now, and a warrior would never desert her fellow warriors simply because she received a small injury.”
“She wants to go back into the battle.” Wesley spoke with tight lips, his anger seething under the surface. “She’s reckless and irresponsible, and she wants to get herself killed.”
“You’ll stay right here, Arista. You’re already wounded.” Jireo’s expression was fierce as he wagged his finger at her.
She lifted her chin. “I’ll wager you’re planning to return.”
“I’m following orders, and I’m of age. You’re not.”
“You’re not of age—you don’t have eighteen years yet.”
Kaevin put his hand on Jireo’s shoulder to calm him. “Arista, you know my father has had to make an exception, allowing a few of us to fight with seventeen years.”
“I’ve only one less year than Jireo, and I’ve already fought in two battles.”
“Please excuse the interruption,” said Laethan, his words dripping in sarcasm. “I’m certain you have important matters to discuss, but I have injured warriors pouring in my doors without enough workers to tend them.” He gave Beth a pointed glare.
“We’ll help.” Beth grabbed Arista’s hand and pulled her along. “Unless you’re too badly injured.”
“Of course not,” said Arista, limping behind her. Beth winked back at them as she dragged her away, and Jireo shot her a grateful smile.
“Laethan’s always so grumpy,” said Alora. “He kind of scares me, but Beth really likes him.”
“He’s a good man, but he takes everything quite seriously. He scares me a bit, too,” Kaevin admitted.
“I think if I ever saw him laugh, I’d have a heart attack,” said Alora.
“Come, Wesley,” said Jireo. “We’ll retrieve my bow and arrows. Alora can transport
us up to my rooftop, and you can shoot from there. I can guard your back with my knife and short sword.”
“You know, I guess since the crisis with Jireo is over, I ought to just transport the four of us to Montana. We can probably get back before Uncle Charles even discovers we’ve left.”
“I’m not going back yet.” Kaevin fought to keep his voice level. “I won’t desert my father and Stone Clan during an attack. I’m not a coward.”
“Are you calling me a coward? Because I’m trying to make a mature decision? We all got grounded the last time we came here.”
“The way I figure, I’m already going to be in trouble,” said Wesley. “I might as well accomplish something before I go back.”
“Father’s aware of our presence, and he didn’t send us back to Montana. So he as much as gave us permission to remain here.”
Alora nodded, her expression betraying her doubt. “I guess you’re right. I really do want to help, and I promise I’m not afraid.”
Kaevin pulled her against him. “I wasn’t implying you were a coward, I was merely defending myself against the claim. You’ve never been anything but brave.”
“Okay.” Her voice still held a trace of annoyance.
“There are so many injured warriors.” Alora gazed across the large chamber. “I’m afraid we’re already too late.”
“Let’s be off. It isn’t over yet, or someone would have sounded the horn to retreat.” Kaevin linked arms with Alora and bent to steal a kiss.
“My head doesn’t hurt anymore,” she protested.
“What’s that saying you have—Better safe than sorry?” He whispered the words in her ear, grinning until she returned the smile.
Wesley and Jireo grabbed their hands, and they were off.
*****
Morvaen had thought the influx of warriors from outside Laegenshire would’ve driven the Water Clansmen to retreat, but the warriors had evidently been given a charge to fight to the death. Vindrake was probably safe at Portshire in Water Clan. He usually sent others to carry out his attacks, watching the battles through sightstones at a safe distance.
Wiping his sword on his pants, he lifted it to face the next attacking Water Clan warrior. If he survived the night, he’d be haunted by the deaths he’d witnessed at his own hand. No matter how many battles he fought, no matter how evil his attackers, it was never easy to take a human life.
Tonight it seemed he’d been attacked by an inordinate number of enemy clansmen with slight statures, including more than a few women. As a result, upwards of thirty-five had been dispatched by his blade. Granted, it hadn’t been without challenge when the warriors came two and three at a time. For a while, a Laegenshire archer had aided him from a distance, killing or injuring warriors who assaulted from the side.
Why would these weaker fighters choose to attack a man of his immense size and obvious prowess in battle?
A cloud passed over the full moon, casting the square into temporary darkness. He strained his eyes, searching in the gloom for other enemies. It seemed he was quite alone in the square, but the cries of battle and the clang of slashing swords assured him the fight continued beyond his plane of vision. Laegenshire had not yet succumbed to Vindrake’s superior numbers. Since no more enemies seemed to be coming his way, perhaps he could find a more worthy opponent.
The moonlight flickered as the thin clouds passed across its face, and he used its scant light to pick his way around the bodies strewn before him. A frantic female voice cried from across the square, “Morvaen! Look out!”
He gazed about in confusion as the moon emerged from the clouds, illuminating the square. Seeing nothing threatening, he shrugged his shoulders and lifted his foot to step forward. When his boot touched down, he was standing on a slanted platform, staring at a slim girl with long brown locks and blue-green eyes rounded with terror.
“Alora? What—”
She surged against him, wrapping her hands around his waist. He might’ve lost his balance, had Kaevin not stepped down to steady him. She trembled in his arms, and he patted her back, assessing his new position on the rooftop.
“Be calm, child. Be calm. Why did you transport me without warning? I could’ve cut you with my sword. Oh… of course, my sword didn’t transport.”
“There was a wendt. He was flying right at you. Didn’t you see him?”
“You must’ve imagined it, Alora. I didn’t see anything, and I still don’t.” Kaevin scanned the area.
“Perhaps you saw the shadows from the clouds in the moonlight,” Morvaen suggested.
“No! I saw it, and it’s still here. I feel it, just like the last time. I feel like I’m about to throw up.”
Morvaen continued to soothe her, hoping she was mistaken about spotting the wendt. He also hoped she wouldn’t vomit in his arms.
Surveying his new position he spotted Jireo, perched near the roof’s edge. Another boy appeared, climbing into view with a quiver of arrows over his shoulder.
“I got them, Jireo.” The new arrival turned his head, and the moonlight illuminated his face. “Morvaen? When did you get here?”
“Wesley, I’m surprised to see you, but delighted as well. I’m glad to have you join us, especially as Jireo is evidently no longer able to wield a bow.”
“I really did see a wendt, and I can still feel him.” Alora tugged on Morvaen’s arm.
“I’ve been looking, Alora, and I didn’t see anything resembling a wendt. I’ll scout the other side.” Jireo climbed up to peer over the roof’s peak.
“I believe Alora—she’s been right every time before.” Wesley fingered the arrow already nocked in his bow. “If you can find it, and I can see it, I can bring it down, but it may take several arrows. It took two or three to kill one when Arista and I did it using stronger bows.”
“I can’t see a wendt anywhere, Alora. Are you quite certain of what you saw?” Kaevin took Morvaen’s place as Alora’s comforter, and just in time.
Pulling herself free from Kaevin’s arms she fell to her knees, emptying the contents of her stomach. She looked up with watering eyes. “I think there must be at least two of them—maybe more. The vile feeling is suffocating me. I’m positive I saw one. At first it looked like a shimmery shadow, but then it morphed into a wendt.”
A shrill screech interrupted their conversation. And then another, followed by shouts of panic and screams of pain. Wesley scrambled up the roof to join Jireo, standing precariously on the peak.
“There!” Wesley aimed his bow. “I see it, but I can’t get a clear shot.” His bow moved, obviously following a moving target.
“I don’t see it,” said Jireo. “Where is it?”
Morvaen moved to join them, and Kaevin trailed behind, supporting Alora.
A shriek pierced the air. Though he strained his eyes toward the noise, Morvaen couldn’t locate the wendt. He could make out a number of motionless bodies on the ground. Yet there was nothing to indicate if those warriors had been killed in battle or by this illusive wendt.
“Kaevin, do you see it?” Refusing to give up, Morvaen continued to scan the area below.
“No, but I hear it.”
“Jireo?”
“Nothing to my eyes. It seems only Alora and Wesley can see the beast.”
“Vindrake has created a new evil—a cloaked wendt. I understand how Alora might see it with her gift of discernment, but why would Wesley have the vision?”
“Wesley! Hurry!” Alora screamed, pointing with one hand. “Shoot that one before he gets to that guy.”
Wesley didn’t reply, but his bow moved steadily in the direction Alora indicated. He released an arrow, which flew straight until it stopped in mid-air. An angry squeal rang out from the wooden shaft. Morvaen could make out the arrow shaft in the moonlight, as it floated magically in a path toward an unsuspecting warrior engaged in a sword fight.
“I can’t shoot again, Alora. He’s too low. If I shoot and miss, I could kill someone.”
“Oh no
, I can’t just let it…” Alora raised her hand to her mouth, her horrified eyes matched by Wesley’s. One moment, Morvaen was watching Alora to see what she would do. The next moment, a man appeared beside them on the roof. He yelled, losing his balance, and Kaevin lunged to steady him.
“Sorry, Raemeon. Are you injured?” Kaevin waited for him to gain his balance before releasing his arm.
He gave his head a shake, obviously shocked by the sudden transport. “No, I’m unharmed. What happened?”
“There was a wendt coming right at you. You couldn’t see it, but…” Alora put her hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry if I startled you, but I couldn’t just leave you there and let that wendt…”
Raemeon’s eyes opened wide. “No, please don’t apologize, Bearer. You have my sincere gratitude. I’m grateful you didn’t allow the wendt to reach me. I thought I heard one, but I never saw it.”
“And yet we can’t bring every warrior up to this roof, Alora. The wendt will simply fly up here, and we have no swords with which to defend ourselves.” Morvaen fought the desire to pace, knowing he’d most likely tumble off the roof.
“It’s circling back around,” said Wesley, sighting down his arrow. “Why didn’t that wendt attack the Water Clan warrior just now?”
“Those who bear the bondmark are protected from the wendts.” Morvaen forestalled Wesley’s next question. “During the last battle, the Water Clansmen had their bondmarks masked somehow. Evidently the masking also removed their protection, a fortunate thing for us at the time.”
“Wesley, he’s coming back. Can you shoot him?”
Morvaen strained his eyes and spotted the arrow shaft wobbling in the air, growing larger as it approached the small knot of warriors battling in the street below.
“I’m going to try, but I have to wait until it’s pretty close. And then there’s a danger I could hit someone because it’s flying so low. I wish it would fly over the top of us.” Wesley sighted down his arrow.
“Let me try something.” Alora stared toward the approaching arrow shaft. “Just a little bit closer.”
“Alora, I can’t shoot it at all if it gets any— Wait! Where did it go?”