Tarrin Kael Firestaff Collection Book 3 - Honor and Blood by Fel ©

by James Galloway (aka Fel)

  "Very strange," Dolanna agreed.

  "In a couple of days, as soon as I'm sure Jenna is up to it, I'm going to have her tell mother to have Grandfather stop the war with Tykarthia," Tarrin said. "Grandfather can do it, especially if mother is standing behind him holding her axe. The Ungardt will be a little sulky over not having someone to fight, at least until we can convince them to help us fight off the ki'zadun. Ungardt love a good, rousing war. This will certainly pique their interest."

  "Are you certain that your mother can do such a thing?" Dolanna asked.

  "My grandfather can," Tarrin said confidently. "He's chief of one of the biggest clans. He can call all the chiefs together and explain that the Ungardt were deceived into fighting against Tykarthia, when they didn't do anything wrong. Ungardt may love a good war, but they don't fight unless they have a good reason. As soon as they find out that the atrocities that started the war with Tykarthia were actually the work of the ki'zadun, they'll apologize to the Tykarthians and then come after the ki'zadun."

  "Sounds like the Ungardt have honor," Allia said approvingly.

  "Something like that, but not as refined as you, Allia," Tarrin told her. "Kerri beat it into me that the most critical thing I can do is have you find out what the weather's like in Draconia and the Petal Lakes. That's where the ki'zadun is massing their army, and they can't start marching until the snow melts."

  "That will be easy," Dolanna told him. "The Citadel of the Hill is on the Tykarthian border. They can find that out for us."

  "They should be warned of what's coming," Dar said.

  "Not yet," Allia told him. "This is best kept a secret for now. Let us not tip our hand just yet."

  "That's a good idea," Tarrin agreed, "but you're going to have to go to the Keeper and tell her about this. But only the Keeper. That spy is still loose in the Tower, so you can't have it get out that you know they're coming."

  "We have had no luck finding her," Dolanna sighed. "She has buried herself so deeply that there is not even a hint of her anymore. Those few who knew of her are dead, and nobody has seen any assassins moving about."

  "They're not supposed to, Dolanna."

  "Tarrin, this place is like a prison," Dar told him. "There are guards everywhere, and Sorcerers watching each other. A mouse can't run across a countertop without three reports of it landing on the Keeper's desk inside ten minutes."

  Tarrin chuckled. "Sounds like you're quite serious about it."

  "The problem is that some suspect that our spy is adept at either Mind weaves or Illusion, or perhaps both, and is hiding her tracks," Dolanna told him.

  "Jula can find her," Tarrin told them. "Set her to finding the spy. Jula's nose and her magic will ferret her out."

  "That, is not a bad idea," Dolanna said after a moment of thought. "Since she is Non-human, our spy cannot use Mind weaves to turn her mind aside from its task, and Jula's senses will penetrate any Illusory disguise."

  "Were-cats are born hunters, Dolanna. Have Triana point her in the right direction and set her loose. Jula will find the spy."

  "It is a good suggestion, Tarrin. I will have a talk with Triana about it."

  "Do that. We can't make any serious preparations until that spy is found and removed. Until then, you're going to have to move carefully."

  "I should talk with the Lord General, and ask him to return with the Knights," Allia proposed. "The Knights on the Tower grounds should calm things greatly. The danger to Suld itself should convince him that it is time to stop the self-imposed exile."

  "He deserves to know what's going on anyway," Tarrin told them. "He's a brilliant military man, sister. He can give you a great deal of help, and his status and rank will make sure things get done."

  "True," Dolanna agreed.

  "I'm starting to get tired, so I have to go very soon. Just do what you can as quietly as you can until Jula finds that spy. I can't be doing this every day, so the person who's more or less in charge of this little operation is Keritanima. She's in the middle of it, and most of it depends on her and her ships anyway. So if you have questions about anything, she's the one you need to take them to."

  "Alright," Dolanna said. "Keritanima would be the best choice."

  "Just remember that using the amulets isn't totally secure, so be very careful what you say."

  "That is going to cause problems," Dolanna told him. "Some things must be said."

  "I know, but since none of you can do what I'm doing now, there's no other way."

  "What are you doing, Tarrin?" Dolanna asked curiously. "I can feel your weave, but not you."

  "That's because I'm a couple thousand leagues east, Dolanna," he replied. "My body is in the desert."

  "How can you weave all the way over here then?" Dar asked curiously.

  "It gets very complicated, Dar," Tarrin told him. "Let's just say it's a trick that I picked up. I'll explain everything when I get to the Tower."

  "I will hold you to that, dear one," Dolanna promised.

  "I have to go now. Sarraya is tugging at my ear for some reason. Just let Jula loose, then step back and let her find your spy. I'll do this again if it's something important." He looked at them, his friends and his sister, and he felt the same thing as he did when looking at Keritanima. Not homesickness or an ache to be with them, but a calm, serene knowledge that all of them--any one of them--was always within his reach. He could see them and talk to them any time he wanted, and that considerably softened the impact of being so far away from them. Until he could hold Allia in his arms and have her scent wash over him, looking at her and knowing she was well and good was enough for now. "Be careful and watch out for each other."

  "Farewell, Tarrin," Dar called.

  "May the Goddess watch over you, dear one," Dolanna smiled.

  "May the Holy Mother put the wind at your back and sweet water in your path," Allia said with luminous eyes.

  "Be well," he nodded, and then let the Illusion unravel. He pulled his awareness back to his body, to where Sarraya was yanking on his ear urgently, and opened his eyes. "What?" he demanded in a surly tone.

  "Tarrin, you won't believe this!" Sarraya said with a laugh.

  "What?"

  "Guess who I saw in the city?"

  "Well? Out with it!"

  "Var and Denai!" she laughed. "They must have followed us!"

  "They didn't!" Tarrin said hotly, standing up.

  "Of course they did," Sarraya grinned. "This is outside their clan territory. They're trying to catch up with us."

  "I warned them!" Tarrin seethed. "When I get my paws on them--"

  "Oh, hush," Sarraya said in a curt tone. "Since Jegojah here isn't a threat anymore, what harm is it to let them come with us? I miss them. They're much better travelling companions than you two sourpusses."

  Tarrin glared at her, then he broke out laughing, for some mysterious reason. She was right, of course. Even he missed them, and they could still be useful in guiding him to the mountain pass quickly. Time was now an issue, and he had none of it to spare. Var and Denai would save him many days of floundering around.

  "Alright, alright," he chuckled. "Go get them, Sarraya. But make sure they know that I'm very unhappy that they followed us."

  "Ooh, I get to tell them about all sorts of nasty plans you have for them," she said, rubbing her hands together. "This is going to be so much fun!" Then she darted off into the city.

  "Not much, it takes, to please her, yes," Jegojah chuckled in that cackling tone.

  "Not much," he agreed, standing up.

  "Did the talk go well?"

  "Well enough. I've warned everyone. Now it's up to Kerri to bring it all together and hammer out a plan. Knowing her, she'll have something by tonight."

  "This Wikuni, she must be something special, yes?"

  "You have no idea," he said with a nod. "There's nobody in the world like Kerri."

  "So what now?"

  "Now, we wait," he replied. "After I talk to the Aeradalla, we'll sta
rt out."

  "Then Jegojah, he will wait as well. Until ye be on the way, Were-cat, Jegojah, he will stay with ye, yes. Two days, it is not a great matter, no. Time, plenty remains, yes. A boon of ye?"

  "What is it?"

  "More maps, Jegojah needs, yes," he said. "An understanding Jegojah, he needs, of the terrain. A better idea of the ki'zadun's movements, Jegojah seeks, yes."

  "No problem," he told him, forming the image of detailed maps of the kingdoms involved in the plan, then touching his Druidic power and willing them into existence. They appeared in his paw, four maps rolled up together, one of each of the three kingdoms, and a map of the Petal lakes. He handed them over to the undead warrior.

  "Jegojah thanks ye, yes. Time, he is moving, and Jegojah has much to learn."

  Tarrin ambled off towards the firepit. He was hungry, and a meal of bread and berries wasn't enough this time. He was going to conjure up some beef, and wait for Var and Denai.

  And read them the riot act when they arrived.

  He didn't have long to wait. By the time he was finished eating, Var and Denai were jogging up towards their camp, coming in from the city. Jegojah was studying the maps that Tarrin had Conjured for him, and he could already see that the two of them were decidedly nervous. No doubt that Sarraya had filled their heads with all sorts of wild stories. He was pretty angry with them. He had no idea what possessed them to follow him. He specifically warned them of the danger, and of how angry it would make him. But they did it anyway. They came into camp looking like children caught stealing the pie, heads low and expressions anxious.

  But looking into Denai's face told him everything he needed to know. Of course they followed him. Selani didn't just let friends go off and face danger alone. Denai looked pretty nervous, but underneath it was a look of concern and almost haughty pride at what she had done. Denai wasn't about to let Tarrin go running off into danger alone. It wasn't the Selani way. Selani thought of we long before they thought of I. Obviously, Denai had more or less adopted Tarrin in her mind's eye.

  "You have no idea how lucky you are that there's no more danger," Tarrin growled at them. "If you'd have come two days earlier, I may have killed you myself."

  "Then the danger is passed?" Var asked calmly.

  "Jegojah, he was the danger, yes," the undead warrior cackled. "But Jegojah and the Were-cat, they have come to an understanding. Enemies no longer, the Were-cat and Jegojah are, no."

  "Who is Jegojah?" Denai asked.

  "He is," Tarrin said, pointing at Jegojah. "Certain peculiarities of language makes him speak of himself in the third person. You'll get used to it."

  "I meant to ask why you were sharing a camp with a zombie," Var noted.

  "Zombie, no," Jegojah told him. "Revenant, Jegojah is."

  That made Var's head pick up. "And who is your target?"

  "None here, Selani, no," Jegojah replied. Revenant. That was an old term, something that his father had told him about. It was an old soldier's tale that sometimes, men who were murdered violently sometimes rose from the dead and tracked down their murderers. When they killed them, they went on to their rest. They were called Revenants. Jegojah said that Pygas had granted him a year and a day to avenge himself against Kravon. It clicked that it must have been Pygas who was responsible for the Revenants, and that they were very real. "Jegojah, he and the Were-cat share a focus on the man Jegojah hunts. Both, this man has harmed, yes. When Jegojah strikes, he will strike for both."

  "Then may the Holy Mother bless your hunt, Revenant," Var said seriously. "The enemies of Tarrin are enemies of the Selani."

  "Jegojah accepts the blessing proudly, yes," Jegojah replied ceremoniously.

  "You're getting off the subject, Var," Tarrin said hotly. "Why did you follow me? I warned you what would happen if you did, but you did anyway!"

  "We don't leave friends alone," Denai said bluntly. "You think something as small as a little threat is going to stop us, Tarrin? My father threatens to kill me on a daily basis. It loses its impact after a few years."

  Tarrin blew out his breath, then threw up his paws. "I give up," he announced, then he stalked away from them.

  "Don't worry, he's already decided to let you stay," Sarraya said grandly as he walked away. "He didn't kill you. That's always a good sign."

  Var and Denai assimilated themselves into the camp, and back into Tarrin's life, with shocking ease and speed. By the time he returned, they had their own tent, had hunted down a stray sukk somewhere, and were roasting parts of it over an efficiently dug firepit, lined with stones and with a spit erected over it. Denai was tending the meat as Var and Jegojah looked over the maps. Jegojah was, from the sound of it, debating with Var over troop movements and possible weaknesses in trying to set up a defensive picket at the Citadel of the Hill, to slow the ki'zadun down.

  "What are you doing?" Tarrin asked them.

  "The Selani, he wanted to know what Jegojah was studying, yes. So Jegojah, he explained things."

  Var looked at Tarrin. "Your city is in danger?" he asked quickly.

  "It's not the city that worries me, Var," Tarrin replied. "What the ki'zadun is doing is trying to banish my Goddess from the world. They can't destroy her, or get rid of her permanently, but if they succeed, there's a very good chance that it will kill most of the Sorcerers, any with strong ties to the Weave. Including me."

  "This cannot be allowed to happen," Var said adamantly. "The enemies of our friends are our enemies. My clan will stand against this force that threatens your goddess."

  "This isn't your war, Var," Tarrin told him.

  "It is now," he said bluntly. "You are shida to my clan, and if you know anything of us, that makes you as one of us. The Clan does not abandon its own."

  "I'm not asking for your help, Var," Tarrin told him. "This is a matter that doesn't concern the Selani. No need for you to get involved."

  "It is our matter if we say it is our matter," he countered. "The Holy Mother herself will command me to call the Clan, no matter what you say. Just as you are shida to us, you form a bond between the Holy Mother and your goddess, who are sisters. The Holy Mother will not turn her back on a sister in need. And I will not disobey my Goddess, not for any reason."

  Tarrin turned that over in his mind. He didn't want to inconvenience the Selani, but he couldn't deny that having a Selani clan aiding in the defense of Suld would make a significant impact. The Selani were devastating warriors, and a single clan would be more than a match for entire armies of opponents.

  "Alright then," he surrendered. "If, and only if, the Holy Mother commands it of you, I'll allow it. I won't disobey the Holy Mother either. She may not be my patron, but her symbol is branded on my shoulder, and I took a vow to obey her. I don't go back on my word."

  "Then you are a dutiful son as well as a friend of the Clan, Tarrin," Denai told him with that charming smile.

  "I will pray to the Holy Mother and ask for guidance," Var said, standing up and walking some distance away. Tarrin had no worry that Var would simply say what he wanted to say. Var was Selani. If Fara'Nae told him no, he would abide by that decision. His own motivations had no place in it. Tarrin was still a little wary of dragging the Selani into waht was purely a human affair, but he wasn't about to turn down any offers of aid. He would be insane not to accept Selani warriors. They were some of the greatest warriors alive.

  "Jegojah, he thinks that the ki'zadun are in for a very bad shock," Jegojah cackled. "They hope to surprise the Sulasians with fell beasts and magic. Jegojah, he thinks that they will be the ones surprised, facing Sorcerers, Sulasians, Ungardt, Wikuni, Vendari, Fae-da'Nar, Druids, Arakites, Demons, and now Selani. Jegojah, he hopes to see the look on Kravon's face, yes, when the truth is revealed."

  "It would be worth it, wouldn't it?" Tarrin chuckled. Jegojah was right. The ki'zadun had gone to alot of trouble to amass a frightening army of nightmares. Well, now the katzh-dashi were going to be facing that frightening horde with a wide variety of simi
larly frightening beings, beings feared more for their abilities than their appearances. The Vendari, the Ungardt, and the Selani were three of the finest races of warriors on the face of Sennadar, and they would be fighting on the same side, against a common foe.

  Tarrin did want to see Kravon's face when he saw his worst nightmare take the field against him. To see a united world standing against his Demonic horde, an alliance of the best warriors the world had to offer.

  It would be very much worth it.

  To: Title EoF

  Chapter 19

  It was starting to get irritating.

  Tarrin turned and twisted the manacle on his wrist, trying to get it comfortable. It had been itching too much lately. The fetlocks that grew on his arms and legs had expanded a little since they'd grown, extending from his forearm down to the base of his wrist now, and that meant that they were now growing above, under, and below the manacle. They itched, from the manacles pressing against the fur growing underneath them.

  He'd been mystified by those fetlocks for a while now. Whenever his mind wasn't on other matters, he often looked at them, or combed them out with his claws. They weren't overly long, not long enough to reach the base of his paw when his arms were down. The fur of them wasn't long, but it was noticable, and rather thick. It made him look...strange. Not like the other Were-cats. Sarraya said that only the males grew fetlocks, the Were-cat version of a beard, and only after they had aged quite a while. Thean, among the oldest of the males, didn't have fetlocks. They set him apart from his own kind, the only Were-cat with that rather unusual decoration, a symbol of an age that had been thrust upon him unnaturally, a sign that he was no longer the village farmboy that had once occupied his altered body. In mind and soul as well as body, that Tarrin was long gone, vanished into the mists of the deepest corners of his mind, forever replaced by the dichotomous being that Tarrin had become.

  It wasn't that they made him look bad. Quite the opposite, he thought that they made him look rather striking. But he understood what they represented, and that knowledge made him feel old. The trials of the past year had truly aged his mind and his soul, making him feel like he really was the age that the fetlocks represented. He just didn't feel young anymore. The fact that he was only eighteen, approaching nineteen, didn't seem to be real to him anymore. He had lived an entire lifetime in the last year. His true age was a lie, it was the age that he felt inside that seemed more correct to him than a date on a calendar.