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Aram wrapped Ka’en in his arms and held her close. Still, she trembled and shivered throughout the night, often waking with short, small cries of alarm. For his part, though he was utterly exhausted, Aram slept but fitfully, waking often to chew upon the toughened gristle of cancerous thoughts.
How foolish he had been, he realized, to bring the woman he loved more than anything out of the relative safety of her father’s house and abroad into the dark and dangerous world. Except for the calm interlude in Lamont, she had suffered greatly almost the whole of the trip, cold, hungry, often thirsty; and today she had been brought to within breathing distance of hideous death. For what? The hope that there might be a remnant of Joktan’s ancient allies in a forgotten corner of the world waiting to rise up and join the cause? In Aram’s mind now, at least through the dismal, gloomy hours of this night, that particular cause was put very much in doubt.
Every so often, he heard the wolves talking among themselves, and once he sent a thought out to Durlrang, who responded immediately.
“All is quiet, Lord Aram; there is nothing strange about.”
Toward morning, it rained a bit, and then the wind picked up, rustling the flaps of the tent. Aram, wide awake now, would have risen and waited out the dawn, but Ka’en, asleep once more, shivered uncontrollably. Holding her tightly, giving her his warmth, he stayed where he was.
Eventually, the day brightened outside, and he smelled the welcome scent of smoke as Wamlak and Ruben started a fire. He waited a while longer, and then, regretfully, gently roused his wife, kissing her on the temple.
“Wake up, my love, morning has come.”
She turned her head and gazed full at him. Reaching up with one small hand, she touched his face. “Oh, Aram, I was so frightened yesterday.”
“I know,” he answered gently, “but I will never let harm come to you, my love, never – I promise.”
Ka’en shook her head as she looked into his eyes. “I was not frightened for me.”
After a moment, when he frowned at her but did not answer, her eyes grew moist, and she said in a trembling voice, “I was so afraid that you would die, and I could do nothing to help you against that – thing.”
“Help me?” He stared at her. “No, Ka’en, it’s my job to keep you safe. And I will – always. You’re all I have. Without you, I am utterly alone in the world.”
She blinked at the tears that started at the corners of her eyes and shook her head again. “You really don’t understand, go you?”
Aram frowned. “Understand what?”
“Without you, there is no me.”
Unable to respond, he kissed her again and drew her close, imparting to her his warmth. After a very long while, he said, “Well –”
“Yes,” she answered, “I know, and I smell kolfa.”
Everyone else was up; though the wolves were still out in the barrens searching for breakfast. The horses wandered the verge of the road, finding widely scattered bunches of grass. Overhead, the brightening sky had begun to clear; above the ragged mountains to the east, the sun shone through a gap in the clouds. And Kipwing was in the air, ready to report.
“I found the beast, Lord Aram.”
Aram tensed and reached instinctively for the hilt of the sword.
“Its body is two or three miles to the north. It lies in a deep ravine, in an awkward position, and does not move. I believe it to be dead.”
Edwar let out a short laugh, causing Aram to look at him curiously.
“Forgive me, Lord Aram, but is there any monster, of any size, that you cannot slay?”
Aram allowed himself a small grin, but then thought about his meeting with the fellring in the cavern and the grin failed. “We’ll see,” he answered.
During breakfast, which was prepared by Mallet, Aram sat close behind Ka’en, who had a blanket draped over her slim shoulders. He finished eating and took a sip of kolfa, and looked around, calling in the horses and wolves. When they were all gathered, he stared into the flames.
“What are your thoughts?” He asked. “Do we go on, or do we go back, gather the strength of Lamont and Duridia, and go to war.”
Mallet shook his great head. “Please don’t ask me to make your decision, Lord Aram. I go where you say I should go. You want me to go on, I go on. You want me to go back, I go back. You want me to assault the grim lord’s tower? – I am armed and ready. But I don’t make major decisions.”
Wamlak nodded, even as he smiled at the tenor of Mallet’s passionate outburst. “I feel much the same. I will say this, however,” and looking up, he met Aram’s eyes. “I’ve watched you for three years now, and even before you gained possession of that sword, you were the most fearsome warrior I’ve ever known of or seen. Yesterday, you astonished me again. For just a moment there, when it snatched my arrow out of the air, I thought we were doomed. Ha!” He grinned broadly. “I should have known better. I say we go on.”
Aram acknowledged this with a nod and a wry smile, and then looked at Findaen, whose features were set in uncharacteristically serious lines. Findaen returned his gaze.
“My lord, I know nothing of this land of Seneca, in fact, I have never heard of it except from you. But I understand that they stood with Joktan, long ago?”
“Yes,” Aram said, “and they suffered terribly for their allegiance. And they may be gone, as Edwar and his people believe. But at one time, so Kelven says, they were among the finest archers in the world.”
“And maybe they are yet?”
“If they still exist as a people,” Aram shrugged. “That is my hope.”
“Do we have time to go and see?”
Aram looked around and then settled his gaze on Wamlak. “How far has the winter gone, do you think?”
Wamlak glanced northward, at the distant, jagged horizon, where broken mountains glistened white in the morning sun. “It’s just about the turning of the year, I think. The forests around Derosa should be coming into the heart of winter now.”
“Then there will be snow in the green hills,” interjected Mallet, “and on the plains south of Dane’s farm. Even further south, if it’s a tough season.”
“How far is Seneca?” Asked Findaen.
Aram looked eastward. “Those mountains are the border, I think; yes, I’m reasonably sure of it. Less than a hundred miles.”
“Two days, maybe three, at our current pace,” said Findaen thoughtfully. “Is it a broad land?”
Aram nodded. “Larger than Wallensia and Duridia combined.”
“So – and then a week or ten days of wandering until we find – or do not find – what we seek.”
Aram nodded again.
“Alright, then,” Findaen continued. “And then five or six weeks to get home. You stated that you wanted to be in Derosa by the end of winter, my lord, did you not?”
“We must.”
“There is plenty of time, then.” And Findaen raised his cup in a symbolic gesture. “I say we go in search of Seneca.”
Aram looked up at Florm, standing on the far side of the fire.
“We’ve already discussed this matter, Lord Aram,” the lord of horses said. “Thaniel, of course, will go where you go – you may ask him, if you like, but his answer to me on the matter was blunt and short. As for the rest of us, we are fit and ready. If you go to Seneca, we will bear you there and back.”
Aram nodded his thanks and looked at Durlrang, Leorg, and Shingka. Durlrang seemed surprised to be included, but Leorg spoke up right away. “My lord, Seneca is the land of my mother. I have kin in that land. Would it not be wise to seek allies from among their ranks as well?”
Aram had not considered this. “Do any there know you?”
“They will come to know me, master, and I am certain that they have already heard of you.”
“Perhaps. Thank you, Leorg, I agree – I had not thought of it.”
Ruben, finding Aram’s gaze on him, grinned and shrugged. “Other than yesterday; I’m having
a fine time, seeing the world. I’m ready to go on.”
Edwar exhibited a similar response to Aram’s questioning look. “I’m here on orders from my Hay, anyway, Lord Aram. I’m supposed to get to know you, and I must say – it’s working out just fine. Very educational, in fact. Wherever you go for the next month or so, well, I’m going, too.”
Findaen looked around. “I guess that’s everyone.”
“No,” Aram corrected him, and he touched Ka’en on the arm. “I meant everyone.”
Ka’en sipped at her cup and leaned back against him. “I want to see what is beyond those mountains,” she said simply.
Aram was quiet for a moment. Then he glanced up into the east, where the sun was rising toward midmorning. “Time is wasting,” he said, “and Seneca is yet three days away.”
The landscape didn’t change much as they went eastward all that day, repeating the pattern of wide river channels divided by rocky, barren uplands, but the streams grew larger that flowed through the bottoms, and junipers clustered a bit more thickly in the hollows of the hills, especially to the south of the road. To their front, the mountains, at last, seemed to grow noticeably nearer. Overhead, Kipwing watched, ranging far north of the road, reporting back every two or three hours. Nothing else threatened them from the depths of the lost.
Once, curious, Aram looked over at Findaen. “Was that thing the last of its kind, maybe?”
“Let us hope,” Findaen replied.
They camped on the west side of a channel that night, among the rocks. Grass was plentiful out on the flat and the stream that flowed toward the sea was broad and sluggish. When Aram remarked upon it, Kipwing said, “Were you to climb to the top of any hill round about, Lord Aram, you could see the ocean.”
Surprised, Aram considered taking Ka’en and attempting the climb, even though the sun had set and night drew on, until the eagle added one further declaration.
“You cannot help but see it tomorrow, Lord Aram, for the road runs along its shore for many miles.”
Ka’en was delighted at this prospect and had trouble getting to sleep as a consequence. “I have always wanted to walk on the shores of the ocean,” she repeated every so often in an excited voice.
“Sleep, now,” he told her, at first gently, but ever more gruffly as the night deepened.
The next morning, an hour after breaking camp, they swept past the eastern ramparts of a high hill, and the land fell away. The company stopped in amazement.
To the south, spreading from horizon to horizon and away from them to such vast distances that it strained the eyes and boggled the mind, blue-green water overspread the world. Sunlight bounced dazzling reflections from the crests of rolling waves, which roared onto the level sands that bounded this vast ocean, and broke over, expending themselves in noise and foam.
The day had dawned warm. Ka’en, wide-eyed, looked over at Aram. “I want to put my feet in it. May I?”
Aram smiled gladly. “Why not? – I’ll join you.”
For the next hour or so, the company waded into and through the crashing surf, accompanied by the wolves, who seemed to enjoy the experience as much as anyone, while the horses grazed among the dunes. The water was warm, and smelled of salt and of other, unknown minerals. Aram found Ka’en standing with the foaming surf surging around her ankles, gazing to the south, across the vast watery expanse with wide eyes. He came up beside her and took her hand. “What do you think?”
She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. “I am enthralled,” she said.
Then she looked at him. “I would love you if I never saw more than the inside of a hut,” she declared. Snuggling close, she looked southward again, out across the bounding sea. “But I must say, my dear husband, that you’ve made my life larger than I ever dreamed it could be.”
“I’m glad to serve,” he answered, smiling. He was overjoyed that the dark events of two days earlier had vanished from her thoughts, succumbing to the wonder of new experiences.
She laughed. “All my life, I knew there was more, but I thought I would never see a single acre of the world beyond the gates of Derosa.” She slipped her arms about his waist and laid her head against his chest. “But then you came, and you loved me, and now I’m standing up to my knees in the waters of the Great Southern Ocean. My life is now amazing.”
He hugged her close and gazed south, breathing deeply of the pungent, yet somehow refreshing air. “I could live here.”
“Then let’s do that,” she answered quickly.
“What?”
She leaned back and looked at him, her eyes bright and her smile glad and untroubled. “Let’s do what you said – someday. Let’s live here.”
Laughing gladly at her happy tone, he agreed. “We could at least have a home near the sea…someday.”
They walked along the beach awhile longer, and then Aram, reluctantly, looked up at the sun, rising toward midday. “I suppose we should go on.”
They turned toward the horses, now grazing inland beyond the dunes. Ruben, farthest down the beach, pointed at something much further on, and called out to the rest of the company. “I see something. What is that?”
Aram shielded his eyes and gazed eastward. About a mile further down the beach, where a slender spit of sand jutted into the surf, there was a dark, hulking object, shimmering like a shadow in the sea air.
“I can’t tell,” answered Aram. “Wamlak?”
“No,” the archer answered, “I don’t know what it is. Perhaps we should investigate?”
Aram nodded and continued into the dunes, toward the horses.
The road was no more than a half-mile inland, so they mounted up and went east, studying the object as they drew nearer. It appeared to be quite large, and unnatural, evidently manmade, though oddly shaped, and was partially buried in the sand, with surf foaming around it.
“I know what it is,” Edwar declared suddenly. “It’s a ship, or what’s left of a ship, anyway.”
He was right. The company dismounted, and as they made their way across the beach, Aram could see that it was indeed a ship, though it had been badly battered, perhaps by the same storm that at some point in the past had driven it ashore and wrecked it. The sails were gone, including the masts, and great holes were gouged in the planking of the sides.
Then Ruben, who was in front, halted abruptly. “It’s been burned!”
On closer inspection Aram realized that this statement was true. Black, charred and seared patches marred the gray of the wood. And there was something else. At first, Aram could make no sense of the strangely shaped gouges in the hull and along the deck railings, for there were no rocks in the immediate vicinity, either along the shore or out in the waves. Perhaps it had run aground somewhere further back to the west and subsequent storms had moved it here. Then –
“Those are bite marks!” exclaimed Ruben. “But what in the world has a mouth that big?”
Aram’s blood cooled as he gazed upon the telltale evidence of damage inflicted by huge, gaping maws. And then he knew, and the blood in his veins ran even colder.
“Dragons,” he answered.
Abruptly, the sunny shore lost its tranquil nature; instinctively, members of the company looked around, and scanned the sky for enormous winged forms.
Aram pulled Ka’en close and stared at the broken hulk. “It’s been here a while,” he said.
Edwar, sober, nodded. “The wild folk told of ships abandoned along the shore when the winged demons came.”
Aram turned away. “We have far to go,” he said bluntly. “Let’s move on.”
For the next twenty or thirty miles, the road ran along the ocean, and they enjoyed the glimpses of pounding surf seen through gaps in the dunes. There were also four more shipwrecks, all badly mangled, but there was no need or inclination among the party to stop and examine them. Then, as the sun sank toward the western horizon, the shoreline curved away into the south, and the road began to rise into sparsely wooded hills that tumbled up into hig
her country on what was evidently the eastern edge of the lost.
Here, at the base of this rising ground, they found another of the ruined outposts, though this one was unquestionably more substantial than those further west, its buildings larger and much more numerous. Next to the road, at the center of what had been, once upon a time, a sizeable town – indeed, it qualified as a small city – they came upon an astonishing sight.
A massive statue of a horse, rearing in proud stance with its front hooves elevated, dominated an open area at the center of the ancient town. The statue was made of stone and was completely intact, even though the city around it lay in ruins and leafy vines twined unchecked up and around its enormous body.
Aram stopped in wonder, gazing upward.
Behind him, Findaen let out a low whistle. “That required some work!”
“Yes,” Aram agreed. “And skill.”
After a moment, he glanced down at Thaniel. “It looks just like you, my friend. I didn’t know that your people ever came here.”
Florm, standing over to the left, answered him with a tone of gentle rebuke. “Our people walked the face of the earth in ancient times, Lord Aram. Once, we were nearly as numerous as you.”
“Why is this here, then, I wonder?”
“Who knows?” Florm replied. “I do know that my people often lent their strength to King Joktan in his building projects, many of which would not have been accomplished but for our help. Perhaps there were some of my people engaged in the construction of this road, and this is a testament to them?”
Aram nodded at the reason in these words. “That probably explains it.” After gazing in admiration for a moment longer, he spoke to Thaniel. “Let’s go on and see what other marvels await us.”
Beyond the town, the pavement began to ascend into hills that climbed steadily, and gradually imposed themselves between the road and the sea. Timber thickened in the hollows and as they gained altitude, scattered copses of evergreens grew out on the ridge tops. They were not fir or even pine; here in warmer southern climes, these conifers bore a distinctive exotic look.
Kelven's Riddle Book Three Page 42