Alora_The Wander-Jewel

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Alora_The Wander-Jewel Page 20

by Tamie Dearen


  “Yes. Yes, we will concentrate our efforts on Graely. But truly, anyone will do for ransom. If we cannot capture Graely, we should at least be able to kill him.” He allowed himself to relish the thought. “Of course, if we happen to see Lena, we should take her. But Graely is not foolish enough to leave her exposed.”

  “The men are ready, Sire. We know from interrogating the prisoners that the first four passed through undetected. I suggest we send in our imposters first. Graely may be suspicious, but he won’t assault them. Since they have no detectable bondmark and green eyes, he would have no justification. When they are fully in place, we will signal the attack and follow quickly with the others.”

  “Excellent! And everyone will have irons available to secure a hostage?”

  “Yes, Master Vindrake. And you can watch the progress of the battle through the sightstones and signal retreat when we’ve taken a hostage.”

  “You’re certain we can’t fire arrows from a distance?”

  “I haven’t discerned the placement of the wards, but I know Nordamen’s tactics well enough. He will have the area protected from arrows. Of course, he cannot ward against arrows from within the canyon without inhibiting his own warriors.”

  “The plan is sound,” Vindrake said.

  “What shall I do with the prisoners, Sire?”

  “I think these three will make excellent wendts. We shall send them ahead of the second group to wreak havoc. There is nothing like seeing one of your comrades torn to pieces to strike terror into the bravest of hearts.” The power required to create three wendts would be quite draining. But his position of observation and direction from a distant point would keep him safe from harm until he regained his strength. No one would discern his weakness. An afterthought occurred. “Will the bloodbond still protect our men from the wendts after taking the masking potion?”

  Abaddon cocked his head. “Of that, I am uncertain, Sire.”

  “No matter. Those men are the least gifted. They are expendable.”

  *****

  Uncle Charles murmured to Alora, “It’s interesting, the people here have a variety of skin tones and hair color, but their eyes are all the same emerald green color.”

  “Yeah, I’m not sure how that happens.” She studied the Stone Clan warriors shifting restlessly in the assigned positions along the narrow canyon walls. Nordamen joined Alora’s group under the protective overhang, high on the canyon wall. She whispered to her uncle, “Don’t you think he looks like an elf, Uncle Charles? Like the ones in The Lord of the Rings movie?”

  He hid a laugh, turning it into a cough. “Now that you mention it, yes. But I don’t think he’d appreciate the comparison.”

  “I’m guessing he wouldn’t even know what I was talking about. They don’t have TV or movies here.”

  “So what does he do? He doesn’t look like a fighter. Is he a general or something?”

  “I’m not sure, but I think he does some kind of magic.”

  Nordamen must have overheard her last comment, because he moved to stand beside Alora. “Since you seem to be curious, I’ll tell you my gift is in manipulating the elements, but I’m also in charge of training and overseeing all the other gifts in the clan. Today, I’ve prepared us by warding the area from distant arrows and magickal attack. Vindrake usually employs a number of shamans, so I will be attempting to fend off their attacks. But my most important job now involves you, Alora.”

  “What is that?” She heard her heart pounding in her ears.

  “When you sense Vindrake’s men, I will speak on the wind so every fighter can hear me at once. I will let them know when the attack is imminent and who is dangerous. Since the attack is delayed, everyone is beginning to tire of waiting on guard. Together, we can warn them so they won’t be surprised.”

  “Well, you can tell them something awful is coming down the road right now.” She peered around the rock. “I can’t see them yet, but there’s an overwhelming sense of evil.”

  Nordamen nodded and passed on the information. As he spoke softly, Alora heard his voice in her head. It was a strange sensation and made her want to scratch the inside of her ears. But she noted everyone she could see immediately came to attention, tensing with anticipation.

  “Morvaen has already worked out hand signals and whistles to command the archers and other fighters,” Nordamen continued, but he stopped speaking when six men rode into view. They appeared calm and unthreatening, though they were well armed. Continuing at a slow pace until they were directly under Graely, one man appeared to accidentally drop something on the ground. He exclaimed and the group stopped, while the man slipped off his horse to retrieve the item.

  “This is just a ploy,” whispered Alora. “What are we waiting for?”

  “Patience, Alora,” said Nordamen. “Morvaen is in charge.”

  Alora felt Raelene’s tense presence behind her as she crouched between Nordamen and her uncle, peering over the rocks.

  “That man on the ground has got a necklace just like yours,” Alora commented softly to Nordamen. “What does that mean?”

  His eyes narrowed. “That’s a sightstone. It undoubtedly means Vindrake is watching through his eyes. He has the gift of farsight, among other gifts.”

  “I think it’s no accident the group stopped in front of Graely.” Raelene placed a hand on Alora’s shoulder. “Be prepared to transport him up here if the need arises.”

  But Alora was thinking Kaevin would be in as much danger as his father. Suddenly she felt overwhelming nausea. “Something’s coming! Something bad!” She pointed her finger. “There! Over the trees! And also from behind us.”

  Nordamen quickly relayed her warning to the others. Alora gagged, and her sense of dread grew as she gazed above the forest. “What is that?” she croaked, as three large wretched winged creatures materialized in the air.

  “Wendts!” said Nordamen. But before he could call out a warning, Morvaen gave a long high whistle. Suddenly, Alora saw an arrow protruding from the side of one of the monsters. The creature let out a blood-curdling scream, but continued its flight. Another arrow joined the first, and the wendt began to lose altitude. But still it flew determinedly toward the canyon. Finally, a third arrow lodged in the wendt’s neck, causing the animal to fall heavily from the sky. Alora looked high up the opposite canyon wall, where Wesley and Arista were already nocking their next arrows. Meanwhile, the other two wendts continued straight into the canyon, screeching and baring sharp teeth.

  Alora’s eyes were drawn to the rear of the canyon as shouting cut into her consciousness. The four horsemen who’d passed through the canyon earlier rode back with arrows flying toward any who were exposed on the rocks. Jireo lifted his shoulders above the rock and let fly an arrow, taking down one of the horsemen. Another of the four screamed and fell as a knife lodged in his eye. Alora saw one of the horseman’s arrows had found its mark, lodging in the side of a young man Alora remembered transporting from Laegenshire. She quickly transported the man to their sheltered area, and Beth ran over to tend his wound. Charles, who’d been watching in a state of semi-shock, rushed to kneel beside Beth and provide what help he could.

  Raelene smiled approval to Alora. “This is very helpful, Alora. Can you move that young woman down there? She’s slumped behind that rock. I don’t believe you know her, but perhaps you can see enough of her.”

  Alora peered down, but she could only see the girl’s legs. She couldn’t get a fix on her in order to transport her.

  “Laerona! Look up!” called Raelene. The girl leaned forward and gazed up toward Raelene’s voice. As soon as Alora saw her face, she moved her up to the overhang.

  Alora heard a scream as one of the wendts swooped down to snatch one of the remaining horsemen, flying away clutching him in its talons, and bending its sinuous neck down to tear at him as it flew. Overcome by the horrifying sight and the agonized screams, she ran to the side, vomiting her breakfast. Raelene handed her a water skin and patted her back, b
ut urged her back to their responsibilities.

  Regaining her composure, she hurried back to peer over the rock. She arrived in time to see the third wendt attacking two Stone clansmen who were defending themselves vigorously. Their sword cuts had weakened the creature, although it was undeterred in its quest for human flesh. As it rose up in the air, preparing to dive again toward its target, two arrows lodged in its body—one in the neck, the other in the head. The wendt dropped dead on the rocky wall, and the two men waved relieved thanks to Wesley and Arista.

  Shouts erupted as the canyon road was invaded by more of Vindrake’s men. The arrows seemed to fly a more accurate course from the newly arrived horsemen, and several more clansmen were wounded. Fortunately, Alora could see them well enough to transport them to Beth’s first aid area. Soon Beth was working frantically and directing Charles as well.

  Alora looked down to discover the ledge where Graely, Kaevin and Jireo were standing almost overrun by Vindrake’s men. Graely threw two knives that lodged in the throat of one man and the eye of another. Jireo and Kaevin took out four men with arrows. But now it seemed all Vindrake’s men were converging on their position.

  Suddenly one of them reached Graely, using the dead body of another as a shield. He stabbed out with a short sword, and Alora saw Graely bend over in pain as the sword penetrated his side. As the man grasped Graely by the arm, Alora acted on instinct. She moved Graely up to the ledge, but Vindrake’s man arrived with him. His eyes lit up as he spotted Alora, and he grinned wickedly. He dropped Graely and took a step toward her.

  “Master Vindrake will be so pleased with me,” he said, as he reached out toward her. She took a step back. She could see Nordamen moving out of the corner of her eye, but she didn’t wait for rescue. With all her might she let her desire fling him across the canyon to slam high against the canyon wall, where he tumbled lifelessly to the ground.

  She slumped to the ground with relief. But then, realizing what she’d done—that she’d killed a man—she began to shake. Raelene hurried to put a comforting arm around her, but her attention was drawn to Graely. He was groaning and holding his side to tamp the flow of blood. Nordamen quickly pulled a vial from his shirt and poured several drops onto the wound. Graely’s body went limp as he passed out.

  “What did you do? Was that a magic healing potion?” asked Alora hopefully.

  “No,” Nordamen shook his head. “The potion only slows the flow of blood. There is no magick healing potion.”

  “I can take him to Laegenshire!” said Alora. “To Laethan.”

  “Do it!” said Beth, kneeling on the ground by Graely, her face pale with fright. “This is beyond anything I can fix.”

  “Take him, and come back immediately,” said Raelene. “The attack seems to be over, but we may still need you.”

  Alora knelt beside Graely and put both hands on his arm. Immediately, they were in Laethan’s healing house. Laethan exclaimed at the sudden appearance, but quickly rushed to tend the wound. “Will he be okay?” Alora asked, biting her quivering lip.

  Laethan never looked up from his patient. “I cannot say. But you did the right thing, bringing him to me quickly. At least he has a chance.”

  “I have to go back,” she said.

  He nodded. “I know. Go quickly. You may need to bring others.”

  Alora returned to Raelene, who faced Alora and placed her hands on her shoulders. “Alora, can you transport Kaevin here?”

  “Why? Is he hurt?” Her heart hammered in her chest as she searched for him in vain on the ledge below.

  “Alora, just bring him here,” said Raelene.

  “But I just tried!” Alora said, tears streaming down her face. “He didn’t come. Why didn’t he come?”

  “Try again,” said Raelene.

  “I am! I’m trying! With all my might!” Alora began to sob. “Is he dead? What happened?”

  “He’s not dead,” said Raelene, flatly. “If he were, you would be dead as well. But... he’s missing.”

  *****

  “Excellent! Excellent!”

  Kaevin lifted his eyes to regard Vindrake, clapping his hands with a gleeful expression. Though he’d never met the man, there could be no mistake. From his jet-black hair and beard to his overwhelming aura of evil, he was unmistakable.

  “No doubt, this is Graely’s own son! The resemblance is unmistakable. And the ransom will be forthcoming, I’m certain.”

  Kaevin wrestled against the man restraining him, tasting the blood flowing from his swollen mouth. He felt the rope biting into his wrists, so tightly were they bound. And unfortunately someone had secured a belt of iron around his waist, so there would be no rescue from Alora. This can only end badly.

  “My father would never give you anything,” Kaevin said, spitting blood at Vindrake’s feet.

  “Oh, but it’s not your father from whom I want the ransom. It is my daughter who will pay your ransom. A simple trade. She comes to me—I let you go.”

  “She won’t do it!” But Kaevin’s mind filled with doubt. Would she make such a foolish decision? It would be better for both of them to die than for Vindrake to get his hands on her. And if they were apart for long, they would both die anyway. He couldn’t let Vindrake know about the soulmate bond, or he would use the information to manipulate her.

  “Tell me what you know about her,” said Vindrake.

  “I don’t really know her,” said Kaevin.

  Vindrake raised an eyebrow. “Lying to me is useless. Among my many gifts is judging.” He smiled at Kaevin. “So, you can save yourself a great deal of pain if you answer my questions truthfully the first time.”

  He raised his open hand in the air and stretched it toward Kaevin. When he closed it quickly into a fist, a fierce pain shot through Kaevin’s left hand as the bone snapped in his little finger. He screamed, and Vindrake gave a vicious smile.

  “On the other hand, if you resist me, I will enjoy showing you who is Master here.”

  *****

  Alora cried out, “He’s in pain! Oh God, please! What’s wrong with him? Where is he?” Tears poured down her face in a steady stream.

  “Can you see his face, Alora? Can you speak to him?” asked Raelene. She opened her arms, and Alora fell into her embrace, weeping.

  “No! But I feel him hurting. Why can’t I bring him to me? What am I doing wrong?” asked Alora.

  Nordamen put a hand on her shoulder. “They must have him in iron. Vindrake’s men took him.”

  “But shouldn’t she be able to communicate, even if he’s in iron?” asked Raelene.

  “I believe their shaman must have placed a ward over the iron to prevent communication.” Nordamen hesitated. “And I must tell you something else... Jireo is badly injured.”

  “Oh!” Alora exclaimed, rushing to look over the rock, down where Jireo lay bleeding on the ledge with Beth kneeling beside him. “Do I need to take him to Laethan?”

  Raelene’s face was lined with worry. “It would be best for Jireo, but I’m afraid for you to make too many trips to Laegenshire. Each one will draw from your soulmate bond. And since you cannot reach Kaevin, we need to protect you.”

  Alora set her lips with grim determination. “Kaevin would want me to save Jireo, no matter the cost.” She quickly moved to the ledge and touched Beth on the shoulder.

  “Alora,” said Beth as she looked up, her tears streaking through the dirt on her face. “I think it’s bad.” She pressed cloths in vain on a chest wound. “I think it got his lung. He’s barely breathing!”

  “Stand back,” she said. “I’m taking him to Laethan.”

  This time Laethan wasn’t surprised when she appeared. The healing house was in a flurry, with people running back and forth, following his orders. He immediately started ripping off Jireo’s shirt, only his grave expression giving away his concern at the severe wound. He stopped for a moment to nod at Alora.

  “You’ve done well,” he said.

  Alora knew the words were me
ant to encourage her, but she heard the bleakness in his response.

  She moved back to the cliff face where Raelene was now consulting with Nordamen and Morvaen. Raelene gazed at Alora with concern. “You’re holding your head. Is it hurting now?”

  “A little,” she admitted. “But it’s not bad. What are we going to do? How do we get him back?”

  Shouting from below interrupted their discussion. A lone rider cantered into the canyon. He wore a long hooded black cloak that billowed behind him in the wind. He stopped abruptly below the overhang, and pushed the hood from his face, gazing upward where Alora knelt to peer over the rock with the others standing behind her. Alora felt a distinct nausea from his presence.

  “This man is so evil, I can almost taste it,” she declared.

  The man paused to stroke his neatly trimmed beard. “Nordamen!” he hailed. “I have a message for you from Master Vindrake.” He ignored the arrows aimed at him from every direction.

  Nordamen moved to look boldly down at the man, refusing to cower in his presence. “So, the great Abaddon is reduced to the role of messenger?”

  Irritation flashed in his eyes for a moment, but he quickly recovered. “Nay, Nordamen. I am chief shaman of the many shamans in Master Vindrake’s clan. Delivering this particular message is a task I relish, leaving others to menial work.” He paused, as if he were waiting to add drama to the moment. “Master Vindrake wishes to relay that Graely’s son will be released immediately when Vindrake’s daughter, Lena, is returned to him.”

  “She’s not here,” Nordamen replied without flinching. “She moved to a safe place during the battle. We have no way to reach her.”

  “That is not my concern.” Abaddon shrugged. “The offer stands. Lena for Graely’s son. We will wait at our camp until the morrow, then we will begin the journey home. That will give you several days to reach the girl and send her to her father where she belongs. If she does not come by the time Vindrake reaches his kingdom, he will dispose of the boy.”

  Alora stifled a gasp.

  “I hope you can find a way to reach the girl. If not ...” Abaddon sneered, “Well, my Sire can always make use of another wendt.”

 

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