Only Stones Remain (Ballad of Frindoth Book 4)

by Rob Donovan

  “He was always over-confident,” Marybeth said and then collapsed before Cody could reach her.

  Chapter 20

  Norva stared at Jensen up in the tree. He was craning his neck to shield the sun from his eyes. The sun was not overly bright and Norva wondered if the young man was doing it for effect rather than necessity. In the three days they had been on the run from Cordane's army Jensen had continually tried to do things to impress her. When Norva, Scamp and Clarabelle were at the point of exhaustion he expressed reluctance to stop even though the large sweat patches and heaving shoulders told Norva he was desperately in need of a rest as well.

  "You see anything?" Norva called up to the tree tops. It was usually Scamp or Norva that scaled the trees to see if anyone followed but neither female could reach the lowest branches on the trees around them and so Jensen had taken the initiative, no doubt trying to exert his control once again. She knew he was intimidated by her but he was doing a good job of attempting to disguise his feelings.

  "No, the horizon is clear," Jensen said.

  "Then why are you still up there?" Norva said and winked at Scamp. It was a cruel jibe but she liked keeping Jensen on his toes.

  "Have we finally lost them do you think?" Scamp asked. She had removed a boot to empty a stone from inside. When it rolled out she examined it before tossing it to the trees.

  "More like they have given up the chase this close to Lilyon. They would be stupid to send soldiers out for us now. We are just as likely to be picked up by the Prince's men as Cordane's."

  Scamp nodded, the words did not seem to comfort her. She was no longer the inquisitive girl whom Norva had found on the road side. A sadness had enshrouded her since her captivity and Norva was finding it difficult to break through. It was another reason for Norva to end Cordane's life. One more reason added to her list.

  Clarabelle had lain down on her side and was snoring softy. The panther evidently felt there was little sign of danger also. The cat had also sensed the change in Scamp. Whereas before Clarabelle had been fiercely defensive of the girl, she now treated her with indifference. It was puzzling and Norva could not quite put her finger on the situation. She had little time to think too much at all in the past few days. They had not encountered any of the men sent out by Cordane to hunt them down but they had seen them searching. Each time they had managed to stay in front of them but only just. This was the first morning there had been no sign of them.

  Jensen landed next to them with a theatrical roll. Norva tried not to scoff and covered the laugh that escaped her lips with a cough.

  "How are you feeling?" she asked him.

  "Good actually," he replied and then seeing the unconvinced look she gave him, clarified further, "Apart from the shakes and sweats."

  "And the nightmares," Scamp chimed in.

  ""Those too," Jensen admitted.

  "And the clenches,"

  "The what?" Jensen said turning to the little girl.

  "The clenches," Scamp said. "You ball your hands up into fists all the time - like this." Scamp held up both hands tightly clenched making the knuckles turn white.

  "I do?" Jensen said.

  "You're doing it now," Scamp said.

  Jensen looked down at his hands and realised she was right. He thrust his hands under his belt.

  "He is trying to suppress the rage," Norva said.

  Jensen whirled around to confront her, his face red and hands once again clenched. She smiled gently and he managed to control his anger and look away. He went to the pile of packs they had brought with them and rummaged around for some food. He settled on some dried beef and began munching on it without offering it out.

  "I thought you said it should have left my system by now," he said with a mouthful of food.

  "It should have. But you also said that Goater gave you a high dosage and frequently. The potions may have been flushed through your body, but the effects could last for months."

  "Months? I don't want these urges I get to kill to stay with me for months."

  "Think yourself lucky. Stasiak endured it for years."

  Jensen did not respond; lost in his own thoughts of self-pity.

  "Who is Naila?" Scamp asked. The girl tugged at her frizzy ginger hair, straightening it and then letting it retract back into the curls.

  "What?" Jensen asked.

  "Naila, Groadan, Brenna, Janna. You mention them all the time in your nightmares."

  "You have a good memory for a little girl."

  "Not really. You mentioned them each time you slept; and did so each night when you were guarding me."

  "You never said."

  "You were my guard then. So, who were they? Lovers?"

  "Groadan?" Jensen said raising his eyebrows and smiling. Scamp shrugged as if she did not pass judgement.

  "Who is the Elder? You mention her in your sleep did you know that?" Jensen countered.

  Scamp's mouth fell open in surprise. She looked at Norva but the Ghost Assassin had nothing to say to help the girl. She had been bold enough to raise the subject, now she could get herself out of it.

  "She is someone I used to know."

  Scamp shifted uncomfortably. Norva had heard the young girl mention the Elder occasionally since she recounted her childhood and she had uttered the word once or twice in her sleep but had never mentioned it to her. She had never seen the point in upsetting her. Scamp looked away and bit her lower lip. It was clear she was attempting to hold back tears.

  "Is any of this important?" Norva said. “We can exchange life stories when we reach Lilyon but until then, I suggest we conserve our energy for marching. We might not have seen the soldiers yet, but that does not mean they are far behind. I for one, intend to be firmly behind the White Walls by tomorrow morning."

  She motioned for Jensen to toss her some of the dried beef, he did so and then cast some towards Scamp. Norva bit into the dried meat and winced. She had never savoured the taste and this beef had been salted too much. It would leave them extra thirsty and they would need to refill their flagons more often. Still it was the only food they had, the rest they would have to forage. Even if they managed to snare wild animals which she was not a fan of, they would not have the time to cook it. Clarabelle raised her head and sniffed the air, catching the scent of the meat. She looked blearily over at Norva, decided she was not eating anything she fancied and lowered her head on to her paws; looking up occasionally to make sure Norva's meal had not changed.

  "I still don't understand why we have to go the capital. We know that is where Cordane and his army are going. Why place ourselves in harm’s way? We've escaped them, why push our luck?" Jensen must have seen the objection on Norva's lips as he continued swiftly. "Yeah, I know, I have seen more of the army than anyone else so I can inform the Prince and let him know everything I have learned but I have been thinking if Vashna has defected then he can provide far more insight than I ever could."

  "You come from a different position than Vashna. The Prince and the other warlords are suspicious of him, they will trust you."

  "They don't even know me."

  "I will vouch for you."

  "And they trust you, the Ghost Assassin?"

  "They trusted me enough to allow Vashna to speak to them."

  "So, they do trust Vashna" Jensen said beaming as if he had scored a valuable point in the argument.

  "I didn't say that. I said they trusted me enough to grant an audience with Vashna. I returned with the Queen after all."

  "Why are you so reluctant to go to Lilyon?" Scamp asked.

  Jensen sat against a tree trunk, he stamped his booted foot in to the ground and then scuffed at it with the heel. "I just want to be done with this whole business is all. If the King learns about me, I don't think he would take too kindly to me."

  There was a moment of silence as Norva contemplated what Jensen could possibly mean. The realisation hit her like a bolt of lightning. "You were a Stoneholder?" Norva asked. She could not recall s
eeing him at the Ritual of the Stones but there were people missing, one of which the witch had shielded away.

  "NO," Jensen shouted, there were tears in his eyes and he glared at Norva. The Ghost Assassin returned the stare until Jensen looked down. "My sister was," he said softly. "The witch convinced my father not to attend the Ritual and to run away with my family. I went along with it for a while but then could not take the guilt any longer. I quarrelled with my father and stormed off from my family leaving them to fend for themselves. I have not seen or heard from them since. I have no idea if they are alive or dead."

  "You haven't found any news about them?" Scamp asked.

  Jensen reddened. "I haven't looked."

  "Oh," Scamp said. There was another moment of silence. This time far more awkward. "Why not?"

  "I got involved," Jensen said and shrugged as if he knew that was not a satisfactory answer. Norva was inclined not to press him further. It was obvious the young man felt terrible about the whole situation. His business was his own but she did not care for it. She wanted to rescue Scamp and she had achieved that. Her only aim now was to take her and Jensen to the Prince so they could pass on what they knew of the enemy. After that...after that what? She had no clue as to what to do next. Having Scamp accompany her everywhere had been a burden and one she had not been used to. Yet she had felt the girl’s absence strongly when she had been captured. She wanted to rescue her because she owed the girl that but there was more to it than that; she missed her company a little. Scamp's quirkiness had added something to Norva's life. Whether she wanted that something permanently or not, Norva was not sure. It was a refreshing distraction but if Scamp stayed with her permanently would the girl begin to irk her?

  "What does that mean?" Scamp said. Evidently the girl was not prepared to accept Jensen's vague response.

  Jensen took a deep breath and then told a story which started with him attempting to steal some fish and culminated with him becoming Cordane's champion of sorts. There was a lot of bloodshed in between and although it was admirable that Jensen did not hold back on any of the details or the damning part he played in his story, the more the young man spoke the less Norva liked him. He had been weak and easily manipulated. The worst thing was it was not clear if he even realised how much he had been tricked as he relived his tale. The few allies he had made had abandoned him or died along the way and Jensen's remorse for them did not seem to outweigh his quest to be the best fighter.

  Scamp seemed more interested in the story than Norva was. She asked several questions which Jensen answered directly. Clarabelle opened her eyes and yawned to reveal large white teeth and black gums. She looked around and then over to the sun in the sky. Norva felt the panther's surprise that they had rested so long. The Ghost Assassin tried to get a feel of how Clarabelle felt towards the man. The cat did not seem to find him dangerous or at least was not alarmed by his intentions but Norva was not so sure. She had found his rise amongst the ranks in Cordane's army implausible. She had never heard of the potions which could change a man's heart and consume him with rage. The Children of the Moon story was a little more interesting. She had heard of the fanatical group but found them mostly harmless in her experience. They kept to themselves and were made up of men, women and children rather than ardent warriors. She did not believe Jensen when he spoke of getting a Gloom to back down by sheer will power, especially as the recounting of his fight against the two-headed Gloom contradicted this event.

  "Why would this Sharoon and Cordane be interested in you?" Norva asked.

  Jensen and Scamp both turned to look at the Ghost Assassin, surprised by her interruption.

  "What do you mean?" Jensen asked.

  "Stasiak had been by Cordane's side all his life, why would they choose someone they had met less than half a year ago to be his replacement. Especially if that someone was not a seasoned warrior with lots of experience."

  Again, Jensen shrugged. "I wondered the same thing; so, did Groadan and so did Naila, but I was never sure. The only thing I heard mentioned was the word 'Blackthorn.' I had no idea what it was but I got the impression it was something they had done before."

  At the mention of the word Norva shot Scamp a look. The colour had drained from the girl's face and her mouth had fallen open. The girl shook her head almost imperceptibly so that Jensen might not notice, to indicate that she did not want Norva to say anything. The Ghost Assassin looked away but her heart beat was racing. Scamp's reaction was odd, Norva thought. Why would she not want to found out more? The girl had been holding on to the word all her life. Did she not trust Jensen? Clarabelle rose to her feet sensing the sudden tension.

  "What?" Jensen asked looking between the two females.

  "We should get going. We have lingered here too long." The Ghost Assassin replied.

  She did not wait to see if the others obeyed her, as she retrieved her pack and motioned to them.

  ***

  Norva was very rarely unsettled but even she found it hard not to squirm under Atikass' hard stare. The former enemy glared at the three of them as they awaited the arrival of the Prince. He may no longer use the face paint or goby the name Stasiak but that did nothing to soften his demeanour. The young man exuded barely contained rage like a dam holding back a fierce tide. She particularly did not like the way he studied Scamp. Out of the three of them, the young girl seemed to be the focus of his attention which was surprising to Norva as she thought she would have been the one he was more interested in, being the biggest threat, or even Jensen who had been conditioned to be his replacement.

  "The Prince will be with you shortly," a young guard said. It was the third time he had made the statement. Evidently, he was not comfortable with the silence which had enveloped the room or being left alone with Atikass and the Ghost Assassin. The young guard had positioned himself precisely in-between the two of them. Norva suspected this was not out of readiness to intervene in case things took a turn for the worse, but more to distance himself from both threats as much as he could. The guard caught the look of annoyance Atikass shot him and his cheeks flushed. He had an ugly looking birth mark that spread from the side of his nose and onto his cheek. When his cheeks turned red, the mark grew darker as if someone had thrown mud at him and he had not bothered to wipe it off.

  "So, you just escaped from Cordane?" Atikass asked.

  "That's right," Norva said.

  "Just like that? You decided you were going to break these two out and you did it?" Atikass said. He wore a sword by his side and Norva noticed he ground his palm against the hilt. She also noticed how similar he was to King Jacquard and wondered if the war paint had been Cordane's idea to disguise the young man's features. Not that anyone would have ever guessed the man formerly known as Stasiak was actually a Prince of Frindoth too.

  "That's right," Norva repeated. This time Atikass gripped his sword until his knuckles went white.

  "Passed all the guards, all of the Glooms and past Cordane himself."

  “That's right."

  "She is the Ghost Assassin," Jensen spoke up. Atikass shot him a look of such vehemence that Norva was surprised the young man did not recoil. The guard took a step back and blew out his cheeks. There was a fine line between appearing confident and goading, especially someone like Atikass. Jensen had just sailed extremely close to it.

  "I wasn't talking to you," Atikass said. Norva placed a hand on Jensen's shoulder indicating that he should remain silent, although she didn't think he needed to be told. "Impossible. Cordane let you escape. That is the only explanation."

  Norva shrugged. "Works for me. We are here which is what I wanted."

  "I bet it is," Atikass said and looked pointedly at Scamp. To her credit, the red-haired girl feigned indifference.

  The room returned to silence.

  "Any minute-"

  "If you say that one more time I don't care what side of the war I am on, I will cut your tongue out and stick it up your arse," Atikass said.

 
The guard clamped two hands over his mouth and nodded vigorously. Sweat poured from his temples yet Norva felt no sympathy for the man. He had already spoken more than he should of. A guard was there to guard not reassure or make small talk.

  The door to the room opened and Prince Althalos walked in. He wore silver armour with the Rivervale crest. His blond locks rested on his shoulders and Norva felt a frisson run up her spine. She had kissed him the last time they'd met. It had been impulsive and she had not really given it another thought, but seeing him now made the excitement of that moment come back to her.

  “Has Atikass been keeping you entertained?” the Prince asked picking up on the tension in the room.

  Norva was unable to prevent her smile. She saw too that Atikass’s lips twitched. She was not sure if the Prince and Atikass had attempted to reconcile their differences but it appeared the Prince was at ease in his brother’s presence. He strode into the room and pulled up a chair next to Atikass offering a smile.

  Norva had heard all about the duel between the two at the Basin. From everything she had heard both men were highly skilled and the contest was one she would have liked to witness.

  “I need a word with you Althalos,” Atikass said keeping his eyes trained on Jensen and Scamp.

  “Later,” the Prince answered quickly. “These people have come a long way to share their news and time is of the essence”.

  Atikass let out a small growl of annoyance and slumped in his chair. He finally looked away from Jensen and Scamp and stared out the window.

  The Prince ignored him and pulled his chair closer towards Norva and the others. The guard had slipped further into the background and now stood against the wall trying his best to appear inconspicuous.

  Next to Norva, Scamp sniffed and wiped her nose with her sleeve. She seemed suddenly fidgety in the Prince’s presence. Norva had not considered how big a deal the situation was for the girl. She had always appeared so unflappable but that did not mean she was not daunted by everything. Surviving against the odds was one thing, having an audience with the Prince of Frindoth was another. Against her natural instincts Norva clasped the girl’s hand and was surprised when Scamp squeezed it.