First Comes The One Who Wanders

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First Comes The One Who Wanders Page 41

by Lynette S. Jones


  “And the third is?” asked Joshuas.

  “A fog or mist, something to hide the people as they move through the trees toward the mountain.”

  “We’d have to hold the fog for quite some time and the dark crafters would feel the magic,” objected Joshuas.

  “Not if a small force of volunteers attacked and distracted them. They’d think the crafters were helping the soldiers, not the people escaping. They don’t have Menas to help them see, only mists and they take time. If we coordinate this and execute it quickly, we might succeed.”

  “Or we might not,” said Adrian. “This plan puts the women and children at risk.”

  “Any more so than staying or being overrun by those creatures?” asked Joshuas. “This way there is at least a chance they’ll survive. I’ve seen what these creatures do to humans, Adrian.”

  Adrian looked down at the forces again. “Let’s go assemble the leaders and see what we can do.”

  A sad smile flashed briefly over Brenth’s lips and Joshuas shrugged his shoulders to bear the added burden of lives in his hands.

  “That’s the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard,” snarled Captain Ferras, after Adrian laid out Brenth’s plan. “Why don’t we just lay our swords down and surrender. It makes as much sense. We came here to fight, not shrink away like dogs with our tails tucked.”

  Joshuas stiffened at the Captain’s tone, his hand drifting to his sword. He didn’t like this man and he didn’t know why Duke Cheran abided him. Nothing was right, as far as he was concerned. The other master crafters here didn’t think much of him, either. But Adrian hadn’t listened to any of them when it came to Ferras. Joshuas had to wonder what kind of hold the Captain had on the Duke.

  “We’ll fight, Gerran,” said Adrian. “Just not in the way we originally planned. We never expected to have to face such an overwhelming force. If we stand here, everyone will die, women, children, men, crafters. Is that what you want?”

  Gerran looked around at all the leaders waiting for his answer and swallowed nervously. “I don’t want to retreat because we’re afraid to die.” He squared his shoulders defiantly. Adrian considered his answer. “Then you can stay and fight with the diversionary group.”

  Gerran raised his chin. “It would be my honor.”

  Joshua wondered if this was a wise move. He heard the other crafters echoing his thoughts. Although Gerran spoke boldly, he didn’t always act as bravely. They needed people who would hold out for as long as they could.

  “Then, if the rest of us are agreed?” Adrian looked around the room. There were no other dissentions. “Let’s make this plan work.”

  “And then what?” muttered Gerran as he turned to leave.

  Joshuas grabbed him by the arm, roughly. “Then we regroup and fight until we win. We all know what is at stake Gerran. Do you? There is more at stake than Kyris or the Southern Plains. The fate of Preterlandis rests in our ability to overcome the darkness that is overrunning our homes.”

  “I’m well aware of that,” growled Gerran. “I’m not the one who wants to run away from the fight.”

  “But you are the one who wants everyone to believe we are cowards running away, and the one who wants to take away everyone’s hope,” snarled Joshuas. “I, for one, am wondering which side you’re on?”

  Gerran pulled his sword. “You’ll pay for those words.”

  Joshuas’ eyes narrowed dangerously. Those who knew him knew this was a sign Gerran had pushed too hard. Adrian quickly stepped between the two men. “This is a disagreement that you’ll have to settle another time. We need to get started. Joshuas if you’ll take the crafters’ tasks. Gerran, Brenth, if you’ll help me.”

  The two men hesitated a moment longer, then Joshuas turned abruptly and walked away. The leaders of the crafters followed him. They sent out the call for their fellow crafters as they decided where the best place for the tunnel opening would be.

  “Kyle, we must have some kind of shield to keep the dark crafters from discovering what we’re doing. I want you to pick those you need to do that. Gregory, when he has his men, you can start tunneling using the rest of the crafters. I’m going to plan the next phase. Ask for volunteers for the diversion. I don’t want to compel anyone to stay.”

  “We’re all here with the knowledge we might die, Joshuas,” said Gregory. “You’re not asking for more than any are willing to give.”

  Joshuas ran his hand through his hair. “Still, it’s for them to choose.” He left the crafters and went in search of Brenth and Adrian, hoping that he wouldn’t have to face Gerran again so soon. He was still angry with Gerran and the effect he had on the people.

  Joshuas’ mind went back to what Leilas had said about Gerran. He had to agree with her assessment. They would all be better off without him in such a powerful position. Joshuas sighed as he walked across the courtyard. Every day he missed Leilas and Erion more. At this point, odds were that he’d be dead before they returned to Solea. He should have said goodbye, most of all, he should have taken her in his arms and kissed her. He should have taken the opportunity to make love to her and he should have let her know that he had no intention of ever letting her go. But he’d let the opportunity slip away and practically ensured he’d never have another and he still believed it was for the best.

  The Duke and Brenth were in the main square, talking to the men. They didn’t stretch as far as the eye could see, but they were a respectable and well-trained force, nonetheless. “We’ll be counting on most of you to protect the people moving through the tunnel and into the mountains. Brenth,” Adrian pointed to his young companion, “will be leading the people into the mountains. Captain Ferras and I will be leading the diversion, along with Joshuas.” Adrian looked to him for affirmation. Adrian knew him well. He knew he wouldn’t ask his people to do what he wouldn’t do himself.

  Those who went outside the gates would almost certainly die. Joshuas hadn’t expected Adrian to lead the diversionary squad. The people needed a leader when they reached the mountains. But an old crafter like himself and Gerran Ferras were expendable.

  “We’re asking for volunteers. We don’t want anyone who isn’t willing to accept the risks. We’ll be in the armory. If you will join us, meet us there. For the rest of you, may the Creator be with you.” Adrian stepped from his position above the crowd and moved toward the armory.

  Gregory and Kyle had their men by early afternoon. The work on the tunnel began immediately. They worked in shifts and made good progress. Kyle’s men kept the shield in place, three crafters working together at a time. Joshuas accepted the offers of twelve crafters who arrived at the armory. Six had served in the Crafter Wars. He sent the younger, less experienced crafters back to Gregory and Kyle. The people who made it through the tunnel would need crafters to create the mists to cover their dash to the foot of the mountain.

  Adrian and Gerran also chose men who’d seen a great deal of battle. If they wanted to have any chance of creating a diversion for long enough to give the people a chance to get away, they needed men who’d seen battle and could stand against the odds.

  Joshuas, Adrian, and Gerran spent the evening going over their battle strategy. They weren’t certain when the tunnel would be done, but they planned. When they were satisfied, they left the war room and Joshuas found himself alone. Making his way up the stairs of the watchtower, he looked out across the sea of Dredracians, bathed in the moonlight. Small fires dotted the landscape for as far as he could see. The dark masters were taking no chances in crushing the city of Kyris, the last stronghold in Solea. Would they move on to Sylphia when they had destroyed Kyris? Was this the end of Preterlandis? Had the Creator abandoned the world because of their lack of diligence in protecting the balance? How had the balance been destroyed and no one had sensed it had been happening?

  Leilas’ face flashed in his mind. It seemed their fate did lie in the hands of this young girl who had so captured his heart. He had to admit he’d doubted the prophecy in the past.
It had always seemed to him that man held his destiny in his own hands. Perhaps they did. It had been men who’d chosen to reject the Creator and to ignore the balance.

  He should’ve kissed her properly when he’d had the opportunity, he thought bitterly. It seemed a shame to die without having done at least that.

  Closing his eyes, he tried to picture her. A clearing wavered into his mind with Leilas and Erion beneath a tree. Leilas appeared to be sleeping. She was thinner than he remembered, and seemed worn. Opening his eyes in surprise, Joshuas wondered how that picture had come to his mind. He’d almost been able to reach out and touch her. The evil that surrounded her had been palpable. He closed his eyes in pain. How could he have let her go on such a dangerous journey without him? He knew Erion would do his best to keep her safe. But he wasn’t a crafter. He couldn’t protect her from the magic.

  Brenth appeared on the steps of the watchtower as if he’d been summoned. Joshuas could understand why people called him fey. He seemed to instinctively know when someone was in need. “Joshuas,” Brenth greeted him, as he walked to the parapet.

  “Brenth, what brings you here? I would have thought you’d be busy getting all the people ready to leave,”

  “Preparations are well underway,” replied Brenth, sounding older than his years. “We have good men seeing to the task. I needed some air.”

  “I’m afraid you won’t find any good air here. It seems to stink of dark soldiers.”

  Brenth nodded absently. “Actually, I came to wish you well in your battle.”

  “There is only one outcome for this battle,” replied Joshuas. “You’d do better to tell me goodbye.”

  “There’s usually more than one outcome to a situation,” said Brenth, “if we’re open to the opportunities.”

  “There might be some truth to that,” remarked Joshuas, smiling at receiving advice from someone so young.

  “As I said before, I wish you well in your battle and remember what I said.”

  “I’ll try,” said Joshuas, extending his hand to the young man.

  “By the way,” said Brenth, as he turned to go. “Leilas and Erion are safe, or so Mother has informed me.”

  “Daina isn’t here, is she?”

  “No, but she is alive and safe,” said Brenth. “She sends her well wishes to you, also.”

  “May the Creator go with you, Brenth. It’s a brave thing you’re doing to save the people.”

  “Saving the people is what this is all about,” said Brenth, enigmatically.

  “So it is,” replied Joshuas. Sometimes amid the politics and the details, he forgot that important point. Each person was important. Each had a gift to share. Just as each crafter and warrior who’d volunteered had offered their gift. They weren’t just pawns, but men, with lives, families, and dreams. It was so easy to forget. It was for each to choose the path they would take. Joshuas smiled to himself. That crafter saying was there to remind them of each person’s worth.

  Looking out over the ocean of Dredracians, he had more hope there were opportunities if you looked for them and he would be looking, when he rode out to meet the foe. Joshuas could barely feel the magic from the shield as he went to check on the progress of the tunnel. Kyle and his men were doing an amazing job, as were Gregory’s men. The tunnel was almost halfway done. Joshuas wouldn’t have believed it could be constructed so quickly if he wasn’t seeing it with his own eyes.

  “Do you have enough food for these men?” Joshuas asked Gregory when he found him. “This kind of work takes a great deal of energy.”

  “I didn’t want to ask for more,” admitted Gregory. “But I’m sure most of the men could use more food than they have.”

  “I’ll see to it,” said Joshuas. “When do you think you’ll be finished?”

  “Sometime tonight. I’ve already informed Adrian.”

  “I have great faith in you and Kyle to lead the crafters. The council of masters from Sky and Sea are still intact, though hard to find. Use that resource if you need it. They’ll come to your aid.”

  “You’ll be back to take your place at the head of the crafters,” replied Gregory. “Your destiny is not yet completed.”

  “What is my destiny, but to fight and die? I’m a warrior. This is all I’ve ever been.”

  “There is more to you than that, Joshuas. Perhaps it’s time you discovered that fact.”

  Joshuas couldn’t think of what more he had to offer, but he wasn’t going to question Gregory’s insight. He was renowned for his ability to see into people. Joshuas didn’t think he had much time to discover what more there was within him. But if he did somehow survive, he would take time to try and discover it. “I’ll keep that in mind, Gregory. I’ll go look to the food.”

  Gregory bowed and disappeared back into the tunnel. Joshuas emerged from the building they were using to shelter their work from prying eyes and went in search of food.

  The officer in charge of the food was one of Captain Ferras’ hand-picked men and he wasn’t inclined to spare more food for the crafters. It wasn’t until Duke Cheran arrived and heard Joshuas’ request for food that the officer reluctantly allocated more food for the spent crafters.

  Once more, Joshuas questioned the wisdom of Ferras being one of the leaders of the diversion. Could they trust him to look after everyone’s interests? Or would he only be concerned with his own? If someone betrayed them at this point all would be lost.

  Joshuas found his group of crafters, eating and preparing for battle. Jerome had been the leader of Peran’s squad. Joshuas could think of no one he could trust more to stand fast in battle. He knew Singen only from his time in Kyris, but he’d proved himself to be a fierce warrior and a loyal Sky crafter. He’d been in Greyan’s forces in the Crafter Wars, but in a different part of Preterlandis than Joshuas. Cadric, Traven, Stephan, and Marcus had been with him in the wars. They all had a mutual respect for each other’s ability and the added benefit of shared training. The last six were unknown and unproven. Joshuas had assigned each of the crafters he knew with one of the others. They all had battle experience. That would have to be enough.

  “What word, Joshuas?” asked Singen. “When do you think we’ll be going?”

  “In the morning, unless something goes wrong,” replied Joshuas.

  “What do you think would go wrong, my friend?” asked Jerome.

  “Someone could betray us,” said Joshuas, confessing his fear.

  “That would make our attempts to get the people out safely, suicide,” said Cedric.

  “Murder was more the word I had in mind,” snarled Joshuas. “If someone betrays us, they would be sure to secure their own escape.”

  Jerome’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Joshuas. “I think you’re worried unnecessarily. Our friend wouldn’t do what you’re suggesting.”

  “But if he does,” argued Joshuas. “What is our plan?”

  “We’d already be outside the gates before they acted,” offered Traven. “So, we’d have to react from there.”

  “The people would be trapped in the grove or in the tunnel,” added Marcus. “Somehow, we’d need to protect them.”

  “We’re outside the gate, between the gate and the grove. There are our twelve to their thousands,” Joshuas set up the scenario. “So it’s magic. There will be other crafters in the grove who’d also react, hopefully. But we couldn’t count on them.”

  “You have something in mind, my friend,” said Jerome. “Out with it.”

  Joshuas carefully laid out the plan he’d been hatching since he’d left the allotment center. His fellow crafters listened carefully, their faces growing grim as he continued.

  “It would work,” agreed Jerome, “though in all likelihood we’d all die.”

  “In all likelihood, if we’re betrayed, we’ll all die anyway. This plan is only for that contingency.”

  “I can see why Greyan set you as his right hand,” chuckled Cadric. “You’re very persuasive. I, for one, am for the idea, should th
e need arise. Otherwise, we go, we fight, and use our magic when necessary to distract the dark crafters attention from the grove.”

  “Agreed,” the others added their support to the proposal.

  “Be prepared to ride at first light,” said Joshuas, relieved they’d been open to his idea. With all of them uniting, they might even survive, despite Jerome’s assertion to the contrary. Finding his temporary quarters, Joshuas lay down and tried to get a few hours rest. He would need all his strength when morning came.

  Waking about an hour before dawn, he ate his meager daily rations then went to check on the progress of the tunnel. He arrived in time to see them break through the surface into the grove. There was room in the tunnel for four abreast. It would take a long time for all the people to file out, four at a time. Joshuas had to wonder how many they would save before Jayram and his forces figured out what they were doing.

  Leaving the tunnel, he went in search of Brenth. The young leader was busy getting his leaders ready for the trip. His plan was sound. He had fighters liberally interspersed with civilians. If the need arose, they’d fight. Joshuas sighed silently. Who were they fooling? The need would come. They’d have to fight. It always came down to fighting for survival.

  Patting Brenth on the shoulder, Joshuas went in search of Adrian and Gerran Ferras. He found Adrian in the stables inspecting his gear. “The tunnel’s ready, so are the crafters. Brenth is handing out last details.”

  “We’ll begin at first light,” said Adrian. “It will be an honor to die fighting for the last of the Jovanulum.”

  “The songs they’ll sing about us,” agreed Joshuas. “There will be some left to sing songs of the heroes of light.”

  “Yes, I have faith that’s true,” said Adrian, placing the last of his gear in a neat pile.

  “Where is Gerran?” asked Joshuas, looking around for the Captain.

  “I haven’t seen him for some time,” said Adrian. “I assume he’s getting some needed rest. He’s been relentless in getting our soldiers prepared.”

  Joshuas felt a wave of uneasiness wash over him. He didn’t like being in the dark about what Gerran Ferras was doing. He spent a few minutes more with the Duke then went searching for the Captain.

 

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