Malo spoke with Shana before The Walk left Calban, and she agreed to send a messenger to Daughter Gernet, requesting the five hundred Jorqs to pay the scholar. Once Rorian had his gold, Shana would then send him and his wife home on Sea-Dragon, after which the big cog would return to the island castle. I had come to feel possessive of the ship and was reluctant to part with it, so I had requested it be held in my name. I had no idea what I would do with a vessel like Sea-Dragon, but neither Malo nor Shana had any issues with me laying claim to her.
“Where was it you said you were from again, Rorian?” Emand asked me.
“Afrenia.”
“Ah, that’s right, a wonderful place. I get my best leather from there.” Emand tapped his chest. “I’m from Hillsfort. Have you heard of it?” I nodded, trying to keep the distaste from my face. I remembered Hillsfort and that murderous bastard Hape all too well. The shoemaker gestured to his wife. “And Laurea, here, is originally from Cardia.” He chuckled. “I must tell you how we met. It is an interesting story.”
Sabina and I glanced at each other at the mention of Cardia. Was this a test? I wondered. Could this pleasant little man be Juliax?
I felt Laurea’s cold eyes take me in from head to toe, but all she did was sniff slightly in disinterest, then look away. I remember long ago wondering if the Cardian women were as unpleasant as their men. If Laurea was any indication, then I had my answer. Emand continued to prattle on about how he and his wife met. He claimed that it had been love at first sight, which I had a hard time imagining. I listened with one ear, making the appropriate noises of interest when I thought they were required. Finally, we reached the head of the valley and the plump shoemaker was forced to conserve his breath as the grade began to slope upward dramatically.
“I’ll finish the story later,” Emand promised me between wheezing gasps.
“I look forward to it,” I said, forcing a smile.
We marched across northern Ganderland as another long day passed, with the tip of Mount Halas always beckoning us onward. The mountain shimmered like a white jewel above us, looking close enough to reach out and touch, yet forever out of our grasp. We were passing through a pleasant forest of beech and fir trees on the morning of the fourth day when a commotion arose ahead. The entire line of Pilgrims slowed uncertainly and then came to a stop. We were expected to maintain five feet between each row of Pilgrims at all times as we marched, and the procession had stretched out in a rambling line through the trees almost half a mile long. I watched curiously as several soldiers kicked their horses forward to investigate.
“What’s going on?” I asked Emand, unable to see more than ten rows ahead as a bend in the trail cut off my view.
“I’m not sure,” the cordwainer muttered. His eyebrows rose as one of the horsemen came racing back around the bend, only to turn around again once he had reached our rear, leading one of the wagons.
“Move aside, Pilgrims!” the soldier cried urgently, motioning us out of the way as he thundered past.
Sabina and I stepped dutifully into the trees as the wagon bounced and jostled after him, then we cautiously moved back onto the path. We stood and waited, unsure of what to do as we slapped at hungry insects for almost half an hour, until finally, the line began to move again.
I could hear choked sounds of weeping echoing through the trees ahead, growing louder as we drew closer. We came around the bend to find a man lying prone along the path, his eyes open wide and looking surprised by death. A Watcher stood above the body with his hands on his hips, while a woman knelt on the ground, holding the dead man’s hands to her chest. The grieving woman glanced at us as we walked by, and I quickly shifted my gaze away from the look of anguish in her eyes. I felt Sabina’s hand clutching for mine and I took it, squeezing as we trudged onward.
By the eighth day of The Walk, we had lost a dozen Pilgrims, five of whom had died, while the others had just given up, too exhausted to go on. My feet were bleeding, blistered and raw, and I was already on my third pair of sandals. We were told The Walk would reach the garrison at the base of Mount Halas the following night, which was welcome news to all. I was beginning to feel more and more anxious with each step, however, as our contact still hadn’t appeared.
“What do we do if Juliax doesn’t show up?” Sabina asked, clearly thinking the same thing that I was. She glanced ahead at Emand and his wife. The two were gamely marching on, though both appeared near the end of their limits. Sabina lowered her voice even more. “You told me Rorian said if we reach the mountain without those passes, they will kill us.”
“He didn’t know that for certain,” I said just as softly, trying to allay her fears. “It was just a guess. Don’t worry, Juliax will get us the passes. You’ll see.”
Each Pilgrim wore a thin chain around their neck with a small medallion attached to it with a number stamped into the metal. These were the passes that we needed. Emand had a sharp eye, and he’d asked me where ours were on the first day. I’d had to do some quick thinking to come up with a reasonable explanation for why we didn’t have them. I told the cordwainer that I was concerned that one of us might lose our passes on the trek and that our retainers carried them for safekeeping. The shoemaker’s eyebrows had risen at that and I’d seen respect in his eyes. If you had retainers on The Walk, then logically, it followed that you must be important.
“But what if he doesn’t get them to us?” Sabina asked, looking unconvinced. “Then what?”
I shrugged. “Then we come up with a different plan.”
The next day began hot and humid, with a dense fog shrouding the forestland we traveled through. Two more Pilgrims had died the night before, both from the same pair. The two had been life-long partners, married for fifty-three years, and had been found lying huddled together in each others’ arms. We buried the couple along the road in the fog and one of the Watchers said a few words over their graves before we solemnly moved on. Juliax still hadn’t contacted us and I was beginning to think that Sabina’s fears were about to come true. Malo and I had talked the night before, and we agreed that we needed to continue being patient, though I could detect a note of worry in the House Agent’s eyes as well.
The fog finally lifted around midday, just as we entered the Father’s Spine mountain range. A narrow dirt road that Emand told us had been built almost six-hundred years ago wound its way around the base of one of the smaller mountains at the head of the range. We marched past giant, tilted slabs of granite that lined the slope like sentries as the road eventually straightened out, cutting through a field of dancing yellow flowers. I realized that the flowers were identical to the ones we had been given at the start of The Walk. Mount Halas finally rose before us as we left the field behind—the mountain standing almost twice as high as the others.
“Not long now,” Emand said with a tired smile as he glanced over his shoulder. “We should reach First Step by nightfall.”
First Step, I’d learned, was a garrison that sat at the base of Mount Halas. There was only one trail up to the mountain top that was accessible, and First Step guarded it. It was there, I knew, we would have to produce our passes.
The afternoon wore on, with the sun beating down mercilessly, determined not to go easy on us as The Walk slowly came to a close. We eventually left the field of flowers behind, following the road as it led us through deep rocky canyons and thick forests. We came to a gleaming, peaceful lake ringed by giant spruce trees, and, in a moment of rare generosity, the Watchers let us stop along the shore to quench our thirst.
Some of the less modest Pilgrims—myself included—stripped off our sweat-stained tunics and jumped into the cold water, laughing like children as we splashed at each other. Sabina declined to join us, but I could feel her eyes on me as I swam and wrestled with some of the other younger men. The water was invigorating, lifting my spirits, and I could feel its soothing touch washing away all of my doubts.
My good mood lasted for several more hours, right up until the sun be
gan to sink in the west and I got my first view of First Step’s walls. The garrison sat high on a slope at the base of the mountain, built with the end walls on each side curved like wings to meet the imposing rock face behind it. Red streaming Rock of Life banners snapped from the turrets, with here and there Prince Tyrale’s golden lion joining them. I was surprised to see the Blazing Sun banner was also flying from one of the turrets. Tall iron braziers burned along both sides of the road leading to the garrison, beckoning us onward as dusk fell and horns signaled our welcome from the walls. The gates slowly opened and soldiers appeared, marching forward to form lines on either side of the road. Two men on horseback came through the gates next. They paused and waited as the lead Pilgrims far ahead of us stumbled toward them.
“The one on the right,” I said, pointing to the mounted men. “Is that a Son?”
Sabina looked ahead, squinting. “I think so. The little bald fellow beside him looks like a Son-In-Waiting, too.”
“That’s what I thought as well,” I said.
There were no Daughters in evidence that I could see, not that I had expected there to be. I watched as the riders dismounted, moving forward as the first couple arrived. The Pilgrims held hands as they slowly knelt before the Son, who placed his spread fingers on each of their heads. I imagine he was saying something flowery and elegant, but we were still too far away to hear anything but mumbling. The kneeling Pilgrims finally stood and removed their passes from around their heads before dutifully handing them over to the Son-In-Waiting. The bald apprentice called out the numbers on the medallions in a loud, sing-song voice that echoed dramatically off the mountain face. A man stood on the parapet above the gate, holding a thick ledger. He glanced down at it quickly before calling out two names in confirmation. The Son spread his hands in the air at the names, said a few words, then motioned that the Pilgrims could enter the garrison behind him.
“Hadrack?” Sabina said. “What are we going to do?”
I looked at her as the next pair of Pilgrims stepped forward. “I have no idea,” I replied honestly.
The long line of Pilgrims moved ahead surprisingly quickly, the Son, apprentice, and the man with the ledger falling into a practiced rhythm that wasted little time. Before we knew it, only Emand and his wife, and another pair ahead of them were left to pass through the gates. The Son motioned the next couple forward and they knelt before him as he placed his hands on their heads. Sabina and I were holding hands as we waited and I could feel the cold sweat of fear coating her palm. The garrison soldiers and our escorts remained lined up along both sides of the road, watching in eery silence. I examined each man’s face in desperation, hoping that one of them might reveal himself to be Juliax, but no one moved or even bothered to look at us.
“You had best summon your retainers soon, Rorian,” Emand said as the man with the ledger called out several names. The cordwainer winked at me. “It would be a shame to survive the hardships of The Walk, only to lose your lives now before the adventure truly begins.”
The Son began beckoning Emand and Laurea forward. “Juliax?” I blurted out at the little man.
“What?” Emand asked, pausing to look back at me.
“Are you Juliax!?” I hissed at him.
The shoemaker gave me a perplexed look, jumping in surprise as his wife snapped something urgently into his ear. Emand shrugged at me as the two moved away.
“We have to run!” Sabina said under her breath as we reluctantly took several steps closer. I could feel her trembling in my grip. “It’s our only chance.”
“Run where?” I grunted out of the side of my mouth. I turned, searching the faces around us again as the man on the walls began calling out Emand and his wife’s name. No one moved and I knew we were out of time. Juliax wasn’t coming. “All right,” I finally whispered, tightening my hold on Sabina’s hand. “We’ll make toward the Son like we are expected to. Kneel and wait for my signal, then break for their horses. Hopefully, we can catch them by surprise and ride out of here.”
“My lord!”
I turned to see Putt and Malo pushing their way through the line of soldiers. Malo was waving two medallions dangling from chains over his head. A tall soldier cursed a challenge as the House Agent shouldered him aside, but Malo ignored him as he sprinted toward us.
“You found Juliax!” I said in relief.
“Not exactly,” the House Agent responded. He handed Sabina and me a medallion as I looked at him quizzically. “There isn’t time for a long explanation, so I’ll be brief. Remember the first Pilgrim who died in the forest?” Both Sabina and I nodded together. “That, unfortunately, was our mysterious Juliax.”
“Ah,” I said, understanding now. I held up the medallion. “How did you get these, then? Did the woman paired with Juliax give them to you?”
Malo shook his head. “No, she returned home after his death.” The House Agent grimaced. “I imagine when they buried the bastard, they didn’t notice the extra passes hanging around his neck.”
I blinked in surprise, realizing something was wrong as I looked at the medallion I held. “What did you do, Malo?” I growled suspiciously. “You couldn’t have had enough time to go back and get them. So, whose are these?”
“You’re right,” Malo agreed. “There wasn’t time. They belong to the old couple who died last night.”
“But how—” Sabina began to say.
“Putt and Niko dug the bodies up after everyone left this morning,” Malo cut in impatiently. He turned to me. “I wanted to make sure that if Juliax didn’t appear, then at least we had another option.”
I cursed under my breath. “But they are going to call out the wrong names, Malo!” I hissed. “Don’t you see the problem here? Some of the other Pilgrims already know us as Rorian and Thera. What are they going to do when they hear us called by different names?”
“I didn’t say that it was a perfect solution,” Malo said crossly. “I was hoping it wouldn’t be necessary to use them. But unless you want to try kneeling before that Son without any passes at all, then I’d say it’s this or nothing.”
“Pilgrims,” the Son called, smiling as he motioned us forward. “Come, come, my children. You are the final pair. Come to me and be recognized so that we can all go inside and celebrate. I’m tired of standing on these aching feet while my stomach pines for its supper.”
“This better work,” I grumbled unhappily at Malo.
“It will,” the House Agent assured me. “Just stay calm and keep a level head, and you will be fine.”
Sabina and I started to walk toward the waiting Son and apprentice. The priest wasn’t tall, coming to my shoulders at best, but he was broad in the shoulders and had a solid build that was beginning to thicken noticeably beneath his black robes.
“Kneel, my children,” the Son said as we approached.
The Son’s voice was smooth and soothing, and his eyes shone with a tired kindness as we knelt by his sandaled feet. I noticed that his toenails were long, curled, and dirty. The priest put his hand firmly on my head and I could feel the steely warmth of his fingers where they pressed against my scalp.
“In all things, there is a first and a last,” the Son said. “It has been a privilege for me to grant so many deserving Pilgrims access through these hallowed gates this year.” He smiled down at us sadly. “You two shall be the last to gain entry in these troublesome times full of confusion and misunderstanding. Perhaps that is as it should be, for never have I seen a finer pair kneeling before me than I see right now. There is nothing but kindness and goodness coming from you both, and it warms my heart to see it. You exude qualities that The Mother and The Father place within all of us, though sadly, many choose to ignore them. War and bloodshed have ravaged our great kingdom this past year, yet the determination, perseverance, and comradeship needed to complete The Walk by each pair lends hope to us all that soon our people can be whole again.”
I closed my eyes, barely listening as the priest continued talkin
g for several long minutes, until finally he asked us to stand. I rose, helping Sabina to her feet. The Son gestured to the bald apprentice, who I guessed was no more than ten or eleven years old.
“Please present your passes, my children,” the Son said, sounding tired now.
Sabina and I obeyed silently, and then we waited as the apprentice called out the numbers. A moment later, the shouted response that I had been dreading came from the garrison walls.
“Parm and Chesle of Bent Springs!”
I winced and held my breath, waiting for the expected outcry at the unfamiliar names, but none came.
The Son smiled as he swept his hand toward the garrison. “Welcome to First Step, my children.”
14: First Step
Once Sabina and I passed through the gates of First Step, everything we had known so far about The Walk changed. Children brought us flowers the moment we entered, giggling shyly as they handed us wreaths of yellow petals that they insisted be worn on our heads like crowns. Spitted calves, fallow deer, and wild boars twisted slowly on spits hung over roaring bonfires in the center of the courtyard. Pilgrims danced and twirled around the flames to the sounds of cheerful violas, fiddles, and tambourines. My stomach rumbled greedily as the wind carried the smell of the cooking meat our way.
“Welcome, fellow Pilgrim!” a man cried, stumbling up to me. His hair and beard were long and dirty, and he held a bottle in one hand as he wobbled unsteadily. He was dressed in a sweat-stained tunic similar to mine, though he also wore a fine pair of leather trousers and thick leather boots that I could only stare at in envy. A crown of flowers identical to the ones Sabina and I wore sat perched upon his head. The man waved the bottle toward the crowded courtyard. “Welcome to paradise, friend!”
“Yes, thank you,” I muttered as I looked around.
Long tables lit by torches and covered in luxurious, colorful cloth, stood in front of the Holy House, attended by smiling Sons-In-Waiting. All manner of fowl, meats, fish, fruits, and vegetables lay piled high on the tables in a dizzying array of riches. Pilgrims were milling about in front of the food, talking, eating, and laughing. I felt my mouth watering uncontrollably. I glanced at Sabina, seeing an answering gleam of hunger reflected in her eyes. The drunken Pilgrim almost fell as I started to move forward and I had to grab him by his foul-smelling armpits to hold him up.
The Wolf On The Run (The Wolf of Corwick Castle Book 3) Page 22