The Way to Freedom: The Complete Season One (Books 1-5): An Epic Fantasy Action Adventure (The Way to Freedom Series)

by H. M. Clarke

  “What inspired you do that?” Asnar asked as he stood up and brushed the dirt from his trousers.

  “Backing into Ghrista just triggered it in me,” Dearen said as she rose from her defensive crouch. “I remember someone grabbing me the same way in a hallway.”

  “Do you remember anything else?” Asnar asked as he moved to the place where he had dropped his gear and picked a cloth from the pile and began to rub the sweat from his face and neck.

  Dearen pulled her eyes away from Asnar. She could not help looking at him and over the last few weeks she had begun to feel something stir within her. Dearen felt a tingling in her head whenever he was near her and sometimes she imagined she could hear his thoughts speaking in her mind just as the Dymarki do. She then thought on the memory she remembered. But being grabbed from behind and her answering leg sweep was the only thing she could remember.

  It had been nearly a month since her injury but her memories still remained elusive. To make up for their absence, Dearen had thrown herself into learning the ways of the Dymarki. The Dymarki live in large family groups that now range over the ancient territories that those groups had before the Great Exile. The Leaders of the twelve oldest families come together every quarter year to meet in the Great Council, where the affairs and the disputes of the Dymarki are discussed and new laws are pronounced.

  Ghrista’s family was one of the ancient twelve but Dearen had yet to met the main family group who were located further into the mountains. Ghrista’s small group was a patrol that had been sent out to protect the Mufista family borderlands against the intrusion of Bareskins. Which was one reason why she was here now training with Asnar.

  Dearen desperately wanted to go out on patrol, wanted to help the Dymarki win their homelands back from the cruel Suenese and Arranians. They had helped her when she was in need and given her a home. The Mufista family had always been the protectors of the Queen (or Cearc as the Dymarki call their leader).

  Dearen shook her head, “No I can’t remember anything else.” The breeze blew against her sweat soaked shirt making her shiver. Now that they had stopped sparring, she realized how cold it was. She joined Asnar by the pile and plucked up her wool-lined jacket and quickly shrugged into it as he pulled his shirt over his head and settled it around him.

  “How well did I do today?” she asked as he picked up the rest of his gear.

  “Well enough,” was all he said as he slung his belt and towel over his shoulder and stalked passed Ghrista out of the clearing leaving Dearen staring after him.

  “What did I do?” she turned and asked Ghrista.

  ‘I do not know,’ the Dymarki said with a shrug. ‘But I think you have done well enough to come out on patrol with me tomorrow morning.’

  “Really!” Dearen could not hide the excitement she felt. When Ghrista nodded she had to restrain herself from jumping with joy.

  ***

  That evening Dearen could only pick at her meal as she sat by the campfire. All she could think about was the patrol tomorrow. Ghrista had told her that the five of them would be going to the edge of the foothills and working their way in a loop that would bring them back to the main camp. It would be a four-day journey all up and Dearen could not wait for it to begin. If she was lucky she might get to see what a proper Bareskin actually looks like.

  As she was mopping up the last of her food, Dearen saw Ghrista lead Asnar off to one side of the clearing in deep conversation. She saw Asnar stop abruptly and then begin what looked like a heated argument with the Dymarki.

  This might be a good moment to go for a walk, she thought to herself. Ghrista had decided to wait until after dinner to tell Asnar about her joining their patrol tomorrow. The Dymarki treated Asnar as her unofficial guardian and sometimes it annoyed her, just because she had no memory does not mean that she should be treated like a child that has not a thought of its own. She is an adult that could make her own decisions.

  Even so, the thought of facing Asnar after his talk with Ghrista made her reluctant to stay. She got up and dropped her empty dish into the wash bucket and headed up the small hill that contained their sleeping cavern. The sun was just beginning to set and there would be a good view of the magnificent colors of the sunset from the top.

  On reaching the top, Dearen found a large boulder and seated herself on it cross-legged. The sunset was not long in coming and soon the sky was painted in dark oranges, pinks and purples. She sat staring at it wistfully wondering what caused the colors to come. They were so beautiful and for some reason they reminded her of Asnar. As she thought of him, the tingling began at the nape of her neck and she absently scratched at it. But this time the tingling felt nice and comforting instead of scratchy and irritating. Thinking of Asnar bought a rush of feeling up inside of her. He is an attractive man and a gentle one and, at the moment, the only man she had met that was not covered in thick fur. Perhaps that is why she felt this way about him. Perhaps that is why she thought she loved him.

  ‘There, I have finally admitted it to myself,’ she thought as the colors of the sunset became deeper as the sun touched the lip of the mountains. ‘But he treats me like a little child, like an annoying little sister. He does not love me.’ Tears started to trickle down her cheek and in a vain effort she tried to hold back the rest. ‘Why am I crying?’ she started to ask herself when she heard a step right behind her.

  “Dearen.”

  She jumped to her feet at the sound of Asnar’s voice and swung around to face him. Dearen felt the hot tears as they streamed down her face and she blushed red in shame.

  “Asnar.” Just the person she did not want to see. Dearen sniffed. She was not ready to have an argument right now. Wiping the tears from one cheek with the back of her wrist she went to walk pass him but the Pydarki caught her arm, pulling her to a stop.

  “Dearen what is it?”

  She turned to look at him. Seeing him just made her tears flow faster and her face felt as if it was burning. Vaguely she hoped that her face was hot enough to boil away the tears.

  “Nothing. Nothing is wrong,” she whispered, annoyed that her face betrayed her lie. “Let me go.”

  Asnar just stood still staring at her, his face as unreadable as ever but his hand still clasped her arm in a firm grip.

  “Something is wrong. If it is because of the Patrol tomorrow…”

  Abruptly he stopped as another tear escaped down her cheek. Dearen took a deep breath and drew herself up to her full height and tossed her head to flick back the black hair that was stuck to the wetness of her cheeks. She said nothing but tried to give him her most haughty stare.

  Slowly as if approaching a startled animal, he raised his hand and pushed back a stray strand of hair from her cheek and tucked it back behind her ear.

  “It has nothing to do with the patrol,” Dearen said trying to ignore the rushing sensation that the touch of his fingers ignited. She felt his fingers trail around the rim of her ear and then gently down her neck. A surge of heat suddenly stirred up inside her and strangely she felt a throbbing start deep in her head.

  “Can’t a girl cry without having a reason?” She sobbed and Asnar stepped forward and enfolded her in his arms, pressing her close against him. Dearen leaned into his chest and sobbed, letting her tears soak into the suede of his shirt.

  “Of course they can. It just that…” Asnar suddenly stopped speaking and Dearen felt his arms press harder against her.

  “Just what?” She murmured against his chest, wishing that this moment would never stop. This might be the only time she could get this close to him.

  “I thought I heard you call out to me.” The hesitation in his voice made her look up at him. Asnar was never hesitant and the face that was always unreadable was now full of confusion as he looked down at her.

  “I didn’t say a word,” she said slowly, still looking at his face. The sun had now set below the rim of the mountains and the dusk twilight slowly sent them both into shadows.

  “
Dearen,” he whispered as he slowly bent his head and kissed her.

  Dearen’s eyes widened in shock. His touch on her lips was gentle and she felt her arms move around his back to clasp him tighter to her. The throbbing in the back of her mind flashed again and shockingly she felt a responding throb through her touch with Asnar.

  Suddenly Asnar’s lips pulled away from her and Dearen suddenly found herself pushed at arm’s length away from him.

  “What-“ she said in confusion but stopped on seeing the expression on his face. The shadows of the twilight put most of it in darkness but Dearen could see enough to view the revulsion that covered it.

  “No, not like this,” he whispered softly, and shook his head as if trying to clear it. “I want you to love me for myself, not because of the crystal.” But Dearen barely heard it. All she could think of was the look of revulsion on his face.

  Gently she pulled herself out of his hands and stepped a further two paces back to put a little distance between them. The throbbing in her head suddenly grew worse and with it came a loud humming noise. It felt as if there was something outside trying to probe in. The thing did not hurt but was uncomfortable; it felt like someone was trying to talk to her but is so muffled that you could not hear anything properly.

  She had to get away from here, as far away from Asnar as she can. Dearen quickly turned on her heel and bolted down the slope of the hill back to camp. Stopping only to collect her gear and to tell Ghrista where she would be, Dearen rushed into the forest to sleep the night.

  On reaching a lonely place where there was no hope of discovery from unwanted visitors, Dearen sat down on a fallen tree and cried.

  Chapter Five

  Patrol

  Dearen adjusted her weight as she crouched amongst the rocks. The patrol entered the lower foothills on their third day out when Junga, the forward scout, reported a pack of Bareskins in the woodlands. Now the Dymarki patrol waited in ambush for the group in a large circular outcropping of rocks and boulders.

  Before marking out their positions, Ghrista had told them that these Bare-Skins are Arranian so they would be a deadly shot with an arrow. Their action would need to commence before they could ready their short bows.

  Ghrista had positioned Dearen behind the apex of the largest of the rock outcroppings, where she sat wedged between to upright stones. She caressed the smooth golden wood of the small Dymarki compound bow that hung loosely in her hand. Beside her in a small patch of dirt that had gathered between the two uprights she had stuck a brace of arrows, point down within easy reach of her drawing arm.

  She had been nestled in her hiding spot now for nearly an hour and to add to her discomfort it had just started to rain. She pulled the brim of her hat down further over her eyes and crouched farther down between the stones.

  This was the first time since leaving the main camp that she had some time to herself to think. Dearen did not see Asnar the morning the patrol left but when she awoke in the forest she saw he had been there. Placed neatly on top of her scant belongings were a long black wool cloak and a matching black wide brimmed hat. Leaning up against the fallen tree was a plain looking sword and the Dymarki bow enclosed in its hard leather case with a full quiver of arrows.

  Gifts from Asnar.

  But when she presented herself at the morning campfire, the Pydarki was nowhere to be seen. Strangely, she was both relieved and upset at the same time. But Ghrista did not give her much time to dwell on her mixed feelings as he readied everyone to leave. They then started out on foot and Dearen had to work hard to keep up with the long legged Dymarki.

  Now she pulled that black cloak tightly about her and tucked the compound bow as well as she could under it. It would not do to get the bowstring wet and have it fail on her when she truly needed it. Everything was silent around her except for the patter of the rain on her hat brim and the trees behind her. Even the mind voices of the Dymarki remained silent.

  Dearen pulled the brim even further down over her face and watched as the rain dribbled over its edge onto her cloak. The crystal water drops sat a moment on the wool before beading down to shatter against the stone below. She watched as each drop sacrificed itself one after the other. It was like her memories, each one dropped and shattered into a thousand pieces on the day she injured her head.

  But dwelling on her lost memories would not help to find them so she turned her mind away from thinking on it. But her new memories hurt her more than not knowing what she had lost. Dearen remembered Asnar’s look of revulsion and knew in her heart that she had seen it on many unknown faces. Was she really that horrible? The Dymarki did not think so. They had welcomed her for herself alone and for that she was grateful. For that she would do anything in her power to help them.

  Carefully, she leaned forward to stare down through the gap in the stone to the small trail below. The rain had already turned the track to mud and the slate grey clouds was now determined to fill all of the pot holes full of water. On the other side rose the smaller outcrop of rock where the other half of the Dymarki patrol hid in ambush. Dearen could see no trace of them and this rain would help to conceal any markings or tracks that might have been carelessly been left behind. Looking up and down the trail as far as she could, Dearen saw nothing except the thick trees and undergrowth around the trail that was not shrouded in rain.

  How long were these people going to take getting here? Perhaps they stopped because of the rain. But the rain was not heavy enough to stop travelling. Dearen sighed and leaned back against the rock. This might be a long wait. It will be dark in a few more hours and unlike the Dymarki, her eyes will be next to useless in it. Wiggling her toes in her boots to try and get the circulation flowing again, Dearen settled back to wait.

  ‘They’re coming.’

  At Fasta’s warning, Dearen sat forward to stare through the gap between the rocks. At first all she could see on the path was the gloom of the continuous rain, but as she watched, dark shapes began to emerge slowly from the enclosing trees. There were twelve of them and they were all riding large, four legged beasts that she knew were horses but she could not remember ever seeing one before.

  ‘Ready bows.’

  At Ghrista’s command Dearen flicked the edge of her cloak back, slipped an arrow from the brace at her knees and set it ready against the bowstring. She was a fair shot when Asnar asked her to try a bow during their training sessions to see if she had any experience with them. She had also shown herself to be well trained in the use of a sword and in hand to hand combat. Asnar was the better at both sword and hand. Why was she thinking about him again?

  The horses approached down the path at a slow walk and now she could see they were in single file. Double file would have been better as it presented a bigger target for the archers. They were riding double file when Junga first spotted them. The rain must have forced them to spread out along the trail.

  As Dearen watched, her fingers flexed slightly around the tail of the arrow on the bowstring and her breathing slowed as she focussed herself on the midpoint rider. Everyone was to fire on Ghrista’s command and all had been given areas to fire at.

  It was then that she felt a tingling in the back of her mind. She jerked her head back from the gap in annoyance. Since leaving the Dymarki camp Dearen had not felt it at all. What has made it suddenly happen now? Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself. The tingling has never interfered with her actions before so it should not now. Pushing the feeling to the back of her mind, Dearen resumed her position at the gap.

  The lead horseman was nearly level with the stone outcrop on the other side of the trail and Dearen lifted her bow to the gap and sighted along the arrow shaft at the man that rode five horses down. In a moment Ghrista will give the order to fire and Dearen will finally make her very first strike for the Dymarki cause.

  Suddenly the lead rider stopped his horse and threw up his hand to halt the rest of the line. Dearen tensed, thinking that he must have seen something of them in the outcrop
pings. The rider gave a cursorily glance at the rocks and turned back in his saddle to shout orders down the line.

  “Dismount and make camp. These rocks will give us enough shelter from the wind and the rain for tonight.”

  Dearen watched in astonishment as the men dismounted and lead their horses off the road to shelter behind the stone outcropping opposite her. What are they going to do now?

  But then she heard Ghrista’s mind snort of amusement.

  ‘By the Lord of Winds, this is too good to be true.’

  At least he’s happy about it, Dearen thought.

  ‘Once the fools begin to settle, we will go on the attack. Those in the outcrop across from the Arranians will circle around and surround them. And Dearen, once you have fired your first two arrows, cut the lead lines on their horses. The beasts don’t like the smell of us so you will be the only one who can do it.’

  “Right,” she said softly to herself as she gathered her arrows from the small spit of ground and jammed them back into the quiver. Silently slipping the bow back into its stiff leather case, she slung it over her shoulder and carefully made her way through the jumble of stones to the rear of the outcropping.

  Waiting below was the seven Dymarki who were hidden on this side of the trail. As Dearen crouched down beside them, pulling the front of her cloak together to stop the rain from soaking her clothes more than they already were, Fasta began to give his orders.

  ‘We split in two.’ A gesture with a claw split the assembled into two groups of four with Dearen in Fasta’s party. ‘We make our way around and on Ghrista’s orders we fire into the camp and release their horses, keeping them on foot. We need to do this quick before they set a guard.’

  The group silently moved their separate ways and Dearen followed Fasta’s back. The thick rain clouds threw everything into a twilight gloom and if not for Asnar’s hat she would be blinded by the rain. Now out in the open she realized just how hard the rain was, her stony hiding place had protected her from the brunt of it.