“This is war, Durian. That's how war is. It isn't anybody's fault.”
But he could see his words did little to comfort Durian. He didn't imagine that much would.
“What are we going to do now?” Durian asked.
“I want to go after Baron but I don't know what we'd say to him to make him listen. I can't force him to come with us, no matter how dire our need is. I'm just hoping he'll change his mind before it's too late.”
Durian nodded slowly and Sheabor noticed the oxcart they had brought, opening his mouth to inquire about it but then realizing what it was for.
“We're only a few day's ride to Eulsiphion,” Sheabor said. “We should go the rest of the journey.”
Then Sheabor, turning to the dozen or so others on horseback, gave the order for them to pull the stone coffin of Sheyla out of the tomb with the horses and secure it onto the ox cart.
Then he set off by himself. But before he had gone even a few paces, a hand came down on his shoulder.
“Durian might not listen to me, but surely my own husband will. This isn't the fault of either of you.”
Sheabor shook his head slowly.
“You should've seen the way he looked at me,” Sheabor said. “I've sent men to their deaths in battle before...had to tell their loved ones they died under my orders. But this is different. Baron knew that arrow was meant for me, not her.”
Cora's eyes misted with tears and she embraced him tightly.
“I'm so sorry, my love.”
“That single arrow may have killed the entire alliance,” he replied. “If we can't find a way to get Baron back, I don't know what we'll do.”
“He'll come to his senses,” Cora encouraged. “Soon he'll realize how angry Ariadra would've been at him for leaving the alliance. He'll realize that the only way to honor her memory is to become the kind of man she'd have wanted him to be.”
“It might be too late by then,” Sheabor replied. “Baron is going to Ogrindal. They almost killed him the first time he tried to enter. I don't know what they'll do with him if he even makes it that far. He took an arrow in the side and didn't bandage it properly. Infection will certainly set in.”
“We just have to keep hoping,” Cora said. “That's the only thing that kept me alive in Malfur's dungeon.”
Sheabor nodded slowly. He knew she was probably right but things felt like they were spinning out of control. How had everything gone so wrong? Had they made a crucial mistake somewhere along the way? Or had King Euthor? Perhaps the plans he set into motion eons ago weren't as foolproof as he had hoped.
Sheabor didn't know what to think. But he watched from a distance as the men and horses pulled the coffin of Sheyla free from the tomb, through the open hole, hoisting it onto the oxcart and making it ready for the journey.
The day was growing late and the sun was dipping low in the sky. They should make camp here for the night. Taking Cora by the hand, Sheabor brought her through the waters and up the steps carved in the stone. Then, sitting in silence, they watched the sunset colors until the glowing orb of the sun dropped below the horizon.
What would they find in Eulsiphion? Would they find anything at all? Corcoran was already threatening an invasion into Kester and the alliance had once again lost the only man who could truly hope to capture him. Sheabor chose to banish his desperate thoughts and hold onto hope. He had no idea how a happy ending could spring from such chaos and tragedy, but he chose to trust that somehow it would.
Onward to Ogrindal
Baron trotted slowly through the lands of the Horctura upon Sheabor's horse, Agur, his thoughts a blur from grief and sleeplessness. He didn't remember how long a journey it was through the barbarian kingdom to Thay Iphilus Forest. But he'd made the journey once before and he could do so again.
Baron didn't know what he was doing. He knew he couldn't go home – couldn't bear the look in their eyes when he told his family Ariadra was gone. And he wouldn't go with Sheabor. That left only one option. Ariadra's home.
But Baron hadn't even met Ariadra's father. And to meet him with such news after his own wife, Ariadra's mother, had recently perished, brought a grief Baron could scarcely abide. Could he really look Ariadra's father in the eyes and tell him his daughter had been killed?
But Baron might not even get the chance. He slept very little the first two nights, his side throbbing against the hard ground. Fresh water was scarce in the barbarian kingdom and he'd only been able to change his bandages once since setting off alone. When he stopped for the night, Baron removed the bloody cloth wrapped on his side. Agur grunted at the sight of the wound that wasn't properly healing.
“It's alright boy,” Baron said, patting him on the head. “Just need to make it to the forest.”
In truth, Baron was almost happy for the poor state of his injury. How could he go to Ogrindal healthy and whole while Tohrnan's daughter, Baron's own wife, lay slain in a sepulcher?
But when he arose the third morning, his side was strangely numb and his thoughts felt cloudy. Even Agur seemed wary at Baron's approach, sniffing his side with a snort of disapproval. Without a healer, Baron wouldn't last much longer. But he just needed to get to Ogrindal. After that, he didn't care what happened to him. If he could only make it to the forest...tell Tohrnan how sorry he was...then he could be at peace and slip away to join Ariadra.
A fever set in that morning, his body aching and chilled, and an exhausted delirium slowly took hold. Agur was on guard, more so than he'd been thus far, and Baron felt as though he was being watched. Chunks of time passed by without his knowing until he suddenly snapped to attention.
Was he even going the right direction anymore? Nothing seemed familiar. The landscape was barren and rocky. In the distance, the snow-capped peaks of the Ruhkan Mountains were just beginning to jut above the horizon. But they were so far away. How could he ever expect to get there? He would almost surely die alone in this forgotten wasteland.
Thoughts of his mother and father came to him, and he felt a wave of sorrow. What would anyone tell them if he perished in this place? His body would never be found and they'd be left to wonder what really happened to their son. What a tragedy for them, not only to lose Ariadra but also Baron so soon after such a joyful wedding.
Baron felt a tear slide down his cheek. He was so conflicted. He didn't want to be alive anymore. But he didn't want to die either. Nothing would make things right. It would be so easy to die, to slip away and join Ariadra. But he couldn't handle the grief that would come upon his family. He had no choice but to press on.
If he could only make it to Tohrnan, eventually Tohrnan would feel the duty to go to Suriya to tell Baron's parents what had really happened. That satisfied Baron. He just needed to make it to the forest. After that he could let go.
Baron couldn't shake the nagging feeling that he was somehow missing something – something vital. But his fists shook with rage at the thought that either Sheabor or King Euthor could want anything more from him.
“I did everything you wanted!” Baron shouted to the air.
Nothing but a worried grunt from Agur replied and Baron heaved labored breaths of air. Sheabor's horse grew uneasy beneath him. He was a powerful beast, clearly bred for war and unaccustomed to riders so troubled as Baron. He seemed to go on heightened alert, keeping a vigilant eye on the places ahead. Baron was glad for it, for his condition only allowed him brief periods of lucidity.
As they continued, Agur's trepidation only seemed to grow, causing Baron to glance about his surroundings. Was it only Baron's behavior that worried Agur, or was it something more? As Baron took note of the places around him, nothing suspicious came to view – no plumes of dust from the hooves of galloping horses or tracks of any kind.
Baron did his best to focus, cursing himself for his behavior, which could easily have startled a barbarian patrol. But after even more time elapsed, Agur kept throwing his head behind, giving a direction to his concern, which worried Baron. It couldn't be the
Forest Guard pursuing him, nor was it likely Sheabor. That only left two options. Either the Horctura had become aware of his presence here or somehow Corcoran.
Baron recalled how, earlier, when they had first finished their training at the Illian city, somehow Corcoran was quick to find them. Baron didn't know what spies Corcoran had on the Eastern Realm but they were obviously effective.
Baron's heart beat quickly. Glancing behind, he thought he caught sight of a faint cloud of dust arising from the earth. He stared for many moments, trying to make out something definite. But his mind swam with exhaustion and fever and the world began to spin.
Baron squeezed his eyes shut, opening them at length and finding nothing in the distance. Waiting another few moments, the grunt of Agur drew his focus.
“I'm sorry, boy,” Baron said, patting him on the side. “You're a good horse.”
Another grunt ensued, making Baron chuckle. But he did feel a genuine pity for Sheabor's beast. Obviously troubled to leave his former master, his new master must've inspired little confidence thus far. Baron did his best to calm himself. He needed Agur alert and on guard to sense the real danger lurking, not concerned over the well-being of his rider.
Baron pointed them onward, humming a song Ariadra often sang when she thought she was alone. His eyes blurred with tears at the familiar sound and he relegated himself to silence.
They traveled the better part of the day without stopping, the peaks of the distant mountains claiming more and more dominance against the far horizon. And by mid afternoon, the landscape opened up into a wide basin, a forest beginning near the edge of where eye could see.
“See that, boy?” Baron said. “We're almost there.”
They were less than a day from the forest now. Baron had half a mind to keep going throughout the night. Agur wouldn't like it, but if he stopped for rest, Agur would surely wander off, searching for food and water, which Baron had long since run out of. With nothing to tie the reigns to, Baron thought it best to push forward.
But Agur grew agitated after sunset, perhaps at the rough treatment he was receiving or perhaps sensing something Baron did not. On multiple occasions, Agur threw his head back with a troubled whinny, slowing and snorting before cautiously moving forward.
Baron himself thought he heard the sound of a horse whinnying in the places behind him, shooting his head backward but seeing nothing. But the sudden start made his world spin and he felt as though he might lose consciousness. Resting his head in his hands until the world settled, something startled Agur ahead of them and he reared up a bit, dislodging Baron who groped for the reins as he fell, hitting the ground hard. He quickly fell unconscious.
When he awoke, it was still dark. His tongue clung to the roof of his mouth and his head pounded. Pushing himself slowly up, the numbness in his side was now a fiery pain and his shirt was stuck with matted blood against his bandages. Agur was nowhere to be seen. He was about to call out for him, but the sound of a troop of soldiers galloping in metal armor wafted on the breeze.
Baron searched around for a hiding place. He was near the base of a rocky hill and he made for it as fast as he could manage. Exhaustion took hold almost immediately and dizziness once more threatened to drag him back to unconsciousness.
Baron ran a hundred paces up the shallow hill, coming to rest behind a large boulder and slumping over to catch his breath. The sounds of the armored patrol grew louder, and though Baron wanted to lean his head out, he could scarcely move.
With his back against the smooth stone, Baron's mind drifted toward sleep. But as the riders seemed to draw near him, their trot slowed to a halt and Baron thought he heard voices. Snapping back awake, his heart beat quickly. Was it even real? Or was his mind just playing tricks on him?
Baron pushed himself up and craned his neck out from behind the rock. What he saw surprised him. At least a dozen warriors had all dismounted and were ranged all over the area, searching for something. They wore dark armor, not like that of the Dungeon Core, but unlike that of the barbarians or the alliance either. They must have spotted Agur riderless in the open wilderness.
Baron didn't know what to do. These warriors would surely find him. He could never outrun them. Baron took deep breaths, trying to recover his strength. At least three warriors approached him. He could hear the clanking of their armor.
Baron stood slowly to his feet, sliding his back up the smooth stone of the boulder and turning round. The warriors were halfway up the hillside to him and they seemed to be moving more cautiously and quietly than before. Had he been spotted?
Baron took deep breaths, closing his eyes and pulling his palms back to his sides. Close by, he heard a sword draw slowly from its sheath. Mustering all his concentration, Baron thrust his palms against the large boulder, sending a wave of energy through it which shattered the stone, sending bits flying forward.
Frightened yells erupted as the mass of the stone rolled slowly forward, dislodging from its place and splitting apart as it began crashing down the hillside. The warriors fled before it and Baron turned up the hillside.
Only a few moments passed before exhaustion took hold. But Baron was close to another outcropping of boulders. Reaching them and hunching over to keep from passing out, Baron turned, finding half a dozen warriors only a stone's throw behind him, gaining steadily.
Baron would never defeat this many. Instead, he ran between two large boulders, placing his hands on either side of himself and pulling the rock together to close the opening. Behind him was steep hillside but still exposed. Baron worked to mold the rock around him like a shield.
He heard warriors scrambling around trying to climb the rock face. Just then, an armored head appeared above him, brandishing a spear. Baron lunged up, placing his palm on the stone, the warrior's hand sinking down and sticking inside the rock.
The warrior, with his free hand, struck Baron with the butt of his spear, knocking him back and hitting the boulder with a thud and knocking the wind from him. More warriors clambered around and Baron fought to keep himself conscious.
Taking scoops out of the boulder, he waited while pools of liquid rock rested in his hands. Another warrior popped his head above the top of the boulder to the left of Baron. Turning, Baron hurled the liquid stone, which hit the man in the helmet, solidifying.
The warrior took off his helmet and continued his advance, Baron hurling more scoopfuls of rock, which struck the warrior and solidified all over his torso. By the time he climbed down the boulder to reach Baron, the weight of the stone was more than he could stand up under and he wrestled to free himself of his stone covered armor.
But two other warriors appeared behind him. Baron turned round to face them but his knees began to buckle and sounds went dull. His vision tunneled and he felt the sensation of falling. Hitting the ground, his eyes closed and Baron yielded himself to unconsciousness.
But as things went dark, he could see Ariadra standing close by, smiling at him. He felt a sudden sorrow to be here, helpless at the hands of these men when Ariadra had made him promise not to abandon his destiny.
“I'm sorry,” he said.
Then he was asleep.
Eulsiphion
Sheabor and the convoy bound for Eulsiphion rode slowly through the lands of Forthura, the stone coffin of Sheyla behind them. The group spoke little, none willing to even speculate on what in the world they would find in Eulsiphion. Did it even matter at this point? Without Baron, they would never trap Corcoran.
They could drive his armies back to the Banished Lands, but he would one day return again. Sheabor clung to the words Cora had spoken, that soon Baron would yearn to honor the memory of Ariadra by becoming the kind of man she would've wanted him to be.
They would arrive at Eulsiphion by nightfall. It wasn't far from the borderlands of the Horctura – Forthura's only bastion against the hordes of the barbarians, ever threatening invasion. By afternoon, Sheabor caught sight of the peaks of the Squall Highlands, still capped with snow,
pointing them out to Cora.
“Beyond those mountains live Estrien's people, the Melanorians. And below in the plains is the city of King Euthor, Eulsiphion.”
“I still can't believe it survived the Great War,” Cora said.
“Nor could I when they first told me.”
“What's it like?” she asked.
“You'll see.”
Riding for another two hours, the city finally came into view. The stones, mostly white, were highlighted with swirls of gold and blue, surprising Sheabor, since it was different the last time he had seen the city.
“It's magnificent!” she exclaimed.
At their approach, a rider sped from the city to greet them.
“We've been expecting you,” the rider said. “The convoy reported to us what happened at the tomb of Sheyla. King Froamb conveys his deepest sympathies for your loss.”
“Thank you,” Sheabor said. “We'd like to meet with him immediately if possible.”
“Follow me.”
Descending toward the city, the scene was breathtaking. The high waterfall, now bursting with snow melt, fell to the lake behind the city with thunderous crashes as they drew near. Then, entering the city, a great commotion grew as Sheyla's sepulcher passed the citizens, though they had it covered, so none could see that two persons were in fact buried inside.
It was then that Sheabor noticed the city had changed since last he'd been here. They had built an inner wall surrounding the palace hall and some of the main structures, forming an inner keep to protect against invasion.
Climbing the long staircase to the palace hall, they entered the broad room where many had already gathered. Seeing Sheabor, King Froamb arose from his throne and came to greet him with an embrace.
“We were very sorry to hear of Baron's tragedy,” King Froamb said. “Senseless.”
Sheabor nodded slowly.
“I'm pleased to at long last introduce you to my wife, Cora.”
The Banished Lands- The Complete Series Page 96