The walk to the docks took only a few minutes. Following Jhaban’s directions, Thimeon led Lluanthro and Corandra to a small tavern by the water, and they found a table near an open window on the harbor side. The two men ordered a tall tankard of ale, and Corandra asked for a glass of wine. Corandra was eager to start asking questions, but Lluanthro said it was often better to just sit and listen. “People talk more loudly than they think,” he said in a voice so soft Thimeon could barely hear him. “Just listen to the tables around us. We’ll draw less attention to ourselves, and sometimes too much snooping can make tongues less loose. If we get a hint that somebody might know something, we’ll pursue.”
So the three of them sat for a time listening. Thimeon heard little of interest in the conversations going on around them—just talk of seasonal winds and the ebbs and flows of various markets. There were a few mentions of battles and strange doings in the northern lands, but nothing more than rumors.
Thimeon’s thoughts wandered. He had not been to the coast in more than a year. It felt good once more to breath in the cool, refreshing air with the peculiar salt tang he’d found difficult to explain to his friends back in Aeti. The moonlight reflected off the water and gave an enchanting glow to the fleet of fishing boats and trading vessels anchored for the night.
Though he still felt ill at ease, the tension subsided a little. His thoughts drifted to Tienna. He wondered if she’d ever stood by the ocean.
His tankard was nearly empty when his eyes drifted across the room. He thought he caught sight of Lyn seated in the far corner speaking with a stranger. He saw no sign of Siyen or Kayam anywhere around. “Wait here,” he said in a low voice.
Leaving Lluanthro and Corandra at the table, he rose and made his way across the tavern to investigate. The room was smoky and dim. Perhaps he was mistaken. He was halfway across, when a crowd of people passed in front of him. When the way cleared, the table was empty. He stared a moment longer and then returned to his seat.
They arrived back at Luban’s house a short time later. Thimeon went out to the stables to check on their horses. Satisfied they were well fed and groomed and the gear was safely stowed for the night, he went inside. Lyn sat in a corner of the room by the fire looking at one of the books from the library. Thimeon saw no indication he had been gone, unless perhaps a hint of perspiration lined his forehead. Thimeon watched him a moment. There was something familiar about him, though he couldn’t place it. He didn’t share Siyen’s trust in him, but he had no concrete reason not to trust him. His father had always told him it was better to err on the side of trust—trust and charity—than on the side of mistrust. He turned away.
Soon after, he and his new companions made their ways to their various guest rooms for the night. Thimeon was among the first to head to bed, yet he did not fall asleep quickly. Lyn and Kayam, who came to bed an hour later, were already snoring on the other side of the room when he arose and began pacing the floor. After a time, he sat down by the window and watched the moon rise over the sea. Finally, he lay back down and drifted off to sleep.
He hadn’t been asleep for more than a few minutes, when a distressed voice woke him. Thimeon, the voice called.
Thimeon lifted his head and looked around. The room was quiet. His roommates’ snoring had subsided to a soft buzz. Thimeon, came the call again. We need your help.
It took him a moment to realize that the voice was in his mind. Had he not already experienced such a phenomenon once before, he might have thought it was his imagination only. Yet the voice, though distant, was clear. His mind spun backward several weeks, and the voice came into focus.
Thimeon. Please. You must come. Gale Enebe is in peril. Two Daegmons attack. We need you.
“Cathwain,” Thimeon said aloud. In all of the turmoil of the past few days, he had given only a little thought to what Elynna had told the company in that final meeting after the battle, before he had left on his own quest to return to Citadel. She, also, had heard the young Ceadani woman calling for help, speaking across the many miles of Gondisle directly into Elynna’s thoughts. And now she called to him.
Thimeon. Please, came the plea. Her voice grew fainter, but Thimeon had no doubt it was her. Can you hear me?
Thimeon focused all his thoughts on the reply. I hear you. I will come.
Whether Cathwain heard his reply or not, Thimeon did not know. The calls stopped. For a time, he sat on the edge of his bed with his face buried in his hands. How much must the people of Gondisle endure? What help could he bring? What could he do against the Daegmons without the help of the gifted? Yet he had no choice. He could not refuse the call. He would not.
He lifted his head and rose to his feet before doubts could replace his resolve. He would go to the aid of Gale Enebe. But by what path? And would the others go with him? If the Ceadani Pass north of the Ana Notch was not yet deep with snow, they might make it to Gale Enebe in four and a half days. His knowledge of this area was not great, but from his own past travels, his study of his father’s maps, and from talking with Jhaban and Dhan, he had a rough estimate of the distances. The first day of travel along the road would bring them at least to where the Ana River crossed the trade road. Then they would be off the road, though not yet in real wilderness. Another day would bring them from there to the base of the notch and maybe a mile or two up. A third day would be needed to ascend up to the highlands—if the snow wasn’t more than a foot or so deep. Then a day and a half to the village. That was by horseback, and only if the conditions were good and all their mounts remained healthy. If they went by boat to Harrath, however, three days would be wasted, and when they arrived, they would be half again farther away from Gale Enebe than they were now. They couldn’t hope to bring help to Cathwain in much less than ten days by that route. It was too long. Even four days seemed too long if the people of Gale Enebe were besieged.
He made up his mind. In moments he was pulling on his tunic and trousers, and then he hurried through the house to where Prince Dhan slept. He shook the prince by the shoulder and woke him, and in the process also woke Armas and Jhaban, who shared the same room. As Dhan sat on the edge of his bed, Thimeon explained the situation. “I don’t ask you to understand or even to believe me,” he concluded. “But I must go.”
Dhan shook his head. “The officers won’t be happy.”
“No we won’t,” Jhaban said crossly from across the room. “The decision was made.”
“Silence,” the duke chided. “You, as an officer, should appreciate that such decisions are not made by vote.”
Jhaban bowed his head. “As you say. Where the prince goes, I go. I was only pointing out—”
“I know, good friend,” Dhan interrupted. “You have all been trustworthy. I am thankful both for your wisdom and your faithfulness. You wouldn’t be in the danger you are in now if you hadn’t shown so much integrity—or been so loyal to me. And now I’m going to have to ask you to follow me again. Little though I like Thimeon’s message, I’m afraid I must trust him. Somehow the battle against the Daegmon is central. Everything else we do is peripheral. And he knows more about that than anybody.”
Thimeon bit his lip and closed his eyes, wondering how far from the truth Dhan’s words were. But he did not gainsay him aloud. Twenty minutes later, the others were awake and sitting in Luban’s dining room listening to Thimeon and Dhan. Luban was there also. None of them liked what Dhan had to say—except perhaps Kayam—but all agreed they would follow the prince.
“But how will you get out of the city?” Luban said. “I have told you already that soldiers came looking for you. They may have left, but they certainly have spies in the city. Spies who already know you have been here and probably have sent messages to the soldiers. If they are not waiting for you already, they will be after you soon.”
“I may have a plan,” Thimeon replied.
36
NEWS FROM AFAR
; Dawn neared. The sky had turned from black to dark gray. Thimeon peered out across the city from his vantage point on the arch of the bridge. In the early hours of the morning, a low ceiling of rain clouds had blown in from the sea, blocking the sunrise. The southwest side of the city was quiet, but across the harbor near the river mouth the fishing boats were already making their way out into the bay, marked by pairs of lanterns lit to make their way across a black expanse. The doors of warehouses were open as wagons and wheelbarrows loaded the merchant ships.
His band of fifteen made their way across the bridge toward the docks. They spoke in low voices, but not so softly that the few curious pairs of eyes staring down from windows on the slope above failed to see them. Those eyes would have seen, among the travelers, three young women with heads uncovered. The youngest of them looked sleepy and leaned heavily on another. The third scowled. A well-known merchant in town led the company. At his side strode his son, a respected officer home visiting from Citadel. The rest were strangers to that region, though a few of the city’s better-traveled citizens might have recognized a young duke and prince walking just behind the merchant. This is what Thimeon hoped they would see.
The band made its way across the docks, and in plain sight fourteen of them boarded one of Luban’s ships that had just finished loading and was preparing to make its way to sea. Minutes later the ship’s oars dipped into the water, and the vessel rowed out toward open water.
Had there been more light and had somebody been watching from across the bay, just before the ship rowed off he might have seen fourteen figures drop over the other side of the ship and climb down the rigging to a pair of small rowboats waiting in the water below. Only a boat out in the harbor could have then seen the two small boats rowing up the coast to the northeast.
That was Thimeon’s hope, as they kept themselves close to the shadows of the piers and at times actually rowed underneath docks and below old warehouses built on the piers. They pulled ashore on a beach just north of the city. A short time later, the first two horses arrived. A young servant of Luban’s rode Clover and led Lilly. She dismounted, handed the reins to Jhaban, and departed. Jhaban in turn handed the reins to Jhonna and Corandra, who were happy to see their horses again. Within half an hour, sixteen more horses had arrived, three or four at a time. The last six belonged to Luban and were brought by his wife. He had given four of them—two saddle horses and two pack horses—to the company in exchange for Lluanthro’s wagon team. Two were for Luban and Dellia to ride home after their son departed.
“Don’t forget,” Luban said. He glanced back and forth between Thimeon, the prince, and Jhaban. “Stay on the eastern rim of the gorge until you pass the Upper Kreana Falls. The falls are about eight miles upstream. Then you need to drop down to the water and ride along the shore. Don’t leave the gorge after that. Any other path and you’ll run into trouble with the horses. Anyway, unless in his years away from home he has forgotten all the days we spent fishing that river together, Jhaban should be able to guide you.”
Thus in the gray light of a cloudy dawn, Thimeon watched Jhaban and his family wish each other farewell. Then the company worked its way westward through the woods around the north side of the city. The horses were rested and well fed from their afternoon in Luban’s stables, and Jhaban’s family had generously resupplied their saddlebags also. Thimeon knew that somewhere on the road a large armed scouting party from Citadel searched for them and ahead lay the menace of the Daegmon. The people of Gale Enebe were besieged. There was nobody to help them. But while his own heart lay in shadow, those around him seemed to be in good spirits. He kept his worried thoughts to himself.
Ten minutes of riding had brought them back to the Ana River in a wide circle. Just as the sound of cascading water grew loud, Jhaban turned to the north. Keeping about two hundred feet of woods between themselves and the water, they made their way toward the hills. Soon the ground rose, and they veered a little farther from the river. They climbed several hundred feet and rode along the eastern rim of a gorge. A few feet to their left, a cliff fell two hundred feet to the white water below. Sometime later, coming around a bend in the trail, they saw ahead the Lower Kreana Falls, where the Ana River plunged ninety feet over a cliff and into a deep pool. Duke Armas, staring down over the cliff, queried nervously about whether this was the place they were to descend.
“No. Not until the upper falls,” Jhaban answered.
They reached the upper falls an hour later. These falls were even higher, plunging down close to two hundred feet into a mist above a swirling pool. Just upstream of the falls they dismounted, and leading their horses, they descended down the edge of the gorge along a narrow trail. At the bottom they stopped for a drink and a brief rest. Then they remounted and crossed the river at a shallow ford. For the rest of the day they rode alongside the river at the bottom of a steep cliff. The scenery was beautiful, with towering aspens and beeches leaning over the ledges above them and wild ferns and oaks down near the river. Even Thimeon’s heart grew lighter for a time as he looked around at the majestic scene. He had rarely seen anything like it. Staring upward, Jhonna rode right into a heavy branch and was almost unseated.
Twice more during the morning they had to dismount and lead their horses up steep banks, but the way was not difficult. At lunch they stopped on a grassy knoll by a gravel bar. While the others ate a light meal, Jhaban pulled from his saddle three pieces of a long fishing rod his father had packed for him. A spool of braided horsehair line was mounted on it, to which he attached a metal hook with some feathers tied in the shape of a golden stonefly. When he had put the rod together, he walked a few yards upstream. By the time the others finished eating, he had caught four nice fish, brightly colored with red and brown spots. He cleaned them and wrapped them in wet leaves to keep them cool until dinner. Then they started the journey again.
By nightfall they had reached the upper end of the gorge. Behind them the river plunged down over a steep drop toward the ocean. Ahead it meandered across a wide meadow, with the southern ridge of the Ceadani mountains rising behind in the shadow of the setting sun. They were still three miles or so from the trade road. It had been slow going. Had they taken the road out of Kreana as it followed a big loop to the west and north before turning back east, they would have arrived at the bridge across the Ana with two or three hours left of daylight, despite covering half again as much distance. But it would have been impossible to leave Kreana by road without being seen. Even Thimeon knew that stealth was more important than speed. He agreed also that this was a wise place to stop for the night. They even allowed for a fire and shared cooked fish among the fourteen of them along with some bread, wine, raw potatoes, and cheese.
During the night the clouds released the rain that had threatened for the past twenty hours. Thimeon was glad they had brought tents. Still, despite the rain, he was eager to get moving in the morning. After a night of uneasy sleep and dreams of Gale Enebe burning, he was up pacing around the camp an hour before dawn. As soon as it was light enough to travel, he roused the others. He felt bad waking Jhonna, for he knew how tired she was. But the youngest member of the company did not grumble. The moment he shook her shoulder, she jumped up and prepared to depart. The prince and the officers, disciplined by many years of service, soon had the tents packed and were also ready to go. But Lyn and Rammas moved more slowly, and by the time those two had mounted, the others had been waiting for several minutes and were soaked.
Thimeon, however, barely noticed how wet he was. Cathwain’s words were running through his mind. As soon as all sat in their saddles, he spurred his horse to a trot up the muddy trail, willing the others to follow him. His eyes were on the mountains looming larger every mile—and yet they were still too far away to please him. More than a day had passed since Cathwain called to him. Several days since she called to Elynna. How much had the Daegmon destroyed in that time? How many had died? He tried to speak to Cathwain.
To picture her in his mind. To think her name. To ask her if she still lived. To tell her he was coming. But he did not have her gift.
After an hour or so, Thimeon let the officers take over the lead. They had left the gorge behind. The river wound through woods to the left, rolling like silk over gentle riffles. As soon as he fell back behind the prince, Jhonna rode up beside him and kept him company in the steady drizzle. At first she said nothing, perhaps for fear of interrupting his thoughts. After a time, though, she ventured to speak.
“Who are the gifted?” she asked in a quiet voice. “I have heard you speaking of them.”
It took Thimeon a moment or two to bring his thoughts back to the present and to ponder how to answer. He was about to speak, when Rhaan, who rode a few paces ahead with Jhaban, lifted his hand and signaled them all to silence. They had come to the edge of the trees. Four hundred feet away, across a wide meadow, the trade road crossed the Ana River over a stone bridge. Remaining behind the line of trees, Thimeon and Dhan moved forward beside Jhaban and Rhaan to confer. Nobody was visible at the bridge or in either direction, but despite Thimeon’s eagerness to press on, the prince thought it would be safer to send Rhaan ahead to scout. He would signal them if and when it was safe.
The scout-major dismounted from his horse and crept off through the tall grass, keeping about a hundred feet from the water. He soon disappeared. He had had time to go perhaps two thirds of the way across the open, when Thimeon heard, over the steady drone of rain on leaves, galloping hooves coming from a distance. The prince motioned for the others to retreat further into the woods, but he and Thimeon waited and watched, trusting the distance, the rain, and the branches to hide them.
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