A rider appeared a few seconds later, approaching fast from the south, the direction of Kreana and Citadel. As the rider neared the bridge, another man stepped out from the shadows of a stone pillar on the near corner. Thimeon, his vision blurred by the steady rain and dim morning light, had not even seen him standing there. He wondered if Rhaan would see the man before the man spotted him.
The approaching rider stopped several yards short of the bridge and yelled to the other. From where he stood, Thimeon could not hear the conversation. The two men did not speak long. A minute later, the rider turned and galloped back down the road. The other man then disappeared into the woods on the far side of the road. He returned moments later with his own horse, leapt astride, and headed northeast at a similar pace.
37
THE ANA NOTCH
Twenty minutes later Rhaan returned to the others, who stood dripping in the trees. “They way is clear now,” the scout reported. “There were no signs of any other scouts or soldiers, nor of any other horses tethered.”
“You saw the rider then?” the prince asked.
“Couldn’t miss him,” Rhaan said with a frown.
“Could you hear what they said?”
“Most of it. They were practically shouting.”
“Well?” Jhaban asked impatiently.
“The rider coming from the south just brought a quick message,” Rhaan reported. “He said, ‘It’s been confirmed. They rode into Kreana sometime yesterday.’ The soldier on duty at the bridge asked, ‘Shall I call the others back, then?’ The messenger said, ‘No. Send them north toward Harrath. There is an outpost there with a hundred men ready at all times. Word has come from our people in the village that they went that way by ship.’ Then the guard at the bridge asked, ‘Where is the rest of your squad?’ The messenger said, ‘Waiting in the hills outside Kreana in case they change their plans. A few scouts have also gone back down into the city. If they have already left, we’ll rejoin you in Harrath. But if they beat you there, don’t wait for us. Leave a message at the outpost and pursue them.’ That was the gist of it. Then, as I’m sure you saw, they rode off in opposite directions.”
“So,” the prince said. “Thimeon’s little ruse worked.”
“Then let us use the time we have purchased and cross the road while we can,” Thimeon said.
A short time later, the company had remounted their horses and cantered across the field. In half a minute they were on the road, a few hundred yards on the northeast side of the bridge. Thimeon signaled a halt and dismounted. To the right, the well-traveled and well-maintained trade road disappeared toward the eastern corners of the fertile south before crossing into what was known as the Northland. Across the road a grassy path ran north into the woods toward the mountains. The way was narrow and showed little sign of traffic. Had they not been looking for the road, they might have missed it in the rain.
“Come look at these tracks,” Thimeon called. Rhaan dismounted and walked up beside him. Four sets of fresh hoofprints, two going in each direction, marked the soft grass bordering the road. “What do you make of it?” Thimeon asked. “How old are they?”
Rhaan studied them for a moment. “See the notch in that horseshoe, there and there? These were the same horses traveling in opposite directions. I’d guess they rode up that trail sometime yesterday morning and came back last evening.”
“Searching for us?” the prince asked.
“Likely,” Rhaan answered. “But they’re gone now.” He turned to Thimeon. “Do you know this pass?”
“I’ve traveled it twice,” Thimeon replied. “Once in each direction. It follows the river upstream through the Ana Notch into the Ceadani highlands. The notch brings us through the front range. Then we’ll travel through wooded upland hill country for a few miles before the terrain opens up and levels out. There is a wide mountain valley, perhaps fifteen miles across from north to south with a lake in the middle at the confluence of the two branches of the Ana River. Across this valley we’ll see beyond the highest peaks of the Ceadani Mountains, where the Ana River has its headwaters. Unfortunately, the road, such as it is, comes to an end on the other side of the notch as it enters the valley. What few traders travel this way haven’t ever been able to agree on the best route beyond that, and so all go their own ways. There are small Ceadani villages scattered across the valley, but most of them are to the east.”
“How will we go when we get through the notch and into the highlands?”
Thimeon rubbed his forehead. “The village of Gale Enebe is on the north side of the high peaks. To get there we either travel many miles around to the west or skirt the edge of the lake and go through the Ceadani pass. At this time of year, traveling through the Ana Notch may be enough of a challenge. I do not wish to attempt the higher Ceadani pass.”
“Gale Enebe was where we fought the Daegmon?” Siyen asked.
Thimeon nodded.
“Can we even make it through the Ana Notch?” Jhaban asked. “Folk in Kreana say the way is rugged. I have lived in Kreana all my life, just a long day’s ride from the notch, yet I do not know of anybody who has ever traveled it.”
“It is true the way is rugged. There is little trade between the Ceadani and outsiders, so this is not an important route. You’ll find no inns on the way. Even in the summer one could ride a day without passing another traveler. But the notch itself is passable except in the dead of winter. The land just beyond the notch is what will give us trouble. In the winter, snow blows over the ridges and settles in drifts of twenty or more feet. In the spring, weeks go by when the ground near the lake is too sodden for travel. It is why the center of the valley is so sparsely populated despite the richest abundance and variety of game I have seen anywhere in Gondisle.” Thimeon paused, then continued. “I’m told by the Ceadani that every generation or so a king in Citadel will hire engineers to level the road after rains or flood have washed it out. But it’s been a while since that happened.”
“Well, let’s go,” the prince said. “The longer we stay here, the greater the danger. And if I’m ever king, I’ll repay the road for the service it grants us now.”
Soon the company was on the move again, heading northward toward the mountains, riding in ones and twos along the old road. Having escaped the city did not quiet Thimeon’s sense of urgency, and he took the lead, willing the others to follow along behind. Jhonna soon rode up alongside him astride Clover. The rain continued to fall steadily, but a thick canopy of trees protected them from the worst of it.
For almost an hour nobody spoke. The only sounds were the drips of water coming off the leaves, the squeak of wet saddles, and the soft thuds of hoof beats on wet leaves. Thus Thimeon almost jumped when he heard Jhonna’s soft voice almost in his ear. “Who are the gifted?” she asked again. “What are they?”
Unsure how to begin, Thimeon did not answer right away.
After a minute of silence, Jhonna said in a dejected voice, “I’m sorry. I do not mean to pester you. I will be quiet.”
Thimeon turned and looked at her, riding beside him, dripping wet, going from one danger and uncertainty into the next. Compassion welled up within him, and he swallowed the lump in his throat. “No. Please. Do not apologize, and do not be silent. I am glad to talk. But I don’t know how to answer your question. I don’t understand it myself.” He thought for a moment longer. “The gifts, as we call them, are powers of some sort: abilities to do things that have no natural explanation. Some of these powers are manifest in fighting the Daegmon, but others have nothing to do with battle.”
“What are they?” Jhonna asked with awe in her voice. “The powers, I mean? Do you have some?”
Memory of the stone he had worn about his neck and the power it had given him passed through his mind. “No,” he said with a sigh. “Not I.”
“Oh,” Jhonna replied.
Thimeon turned and saw the di
sappointment in her expression. For a moment he regretted having left his former company—having given up the one chance he had to possess a power that might make him significant in the eyes of his companions. He wondered if it would have changed what Elynna thought of him. He had seen the way she looked at Cane—the admiration in her eyes for the power he possessed. Cane, who seemed to lack even a hint of human gentleness and compassion. Oddly, though he had spent many days thinking about such questions, he realized the answer no longer mattered. Another question came into his mind, and the moment it did, he knew he cared more deeply about the answer to this question than any other. Would Tienna think differently of him if he still possessed that stone with all its power?
No, he thought. She would not. She had kissed him one time, and that kiss was after he had given up the stone and relinquished power. “Why do the women of your people train as warriors?” Thimeon had asked her as they rode together southward across the Plains shortly before their parting. He had asked that before she kissed him—before he had even allowed himself to think of the touch of her lips on his. He thought about that touch often, now. How many days had passed since that conversation? Eight? Nine? He had lost track. But he could still hear the adamancy in her voice as she replied. “We do not train as warriors! We are huntresses, not soldiers.”
Thimeon’s own question embarrassed him. He knew her title. Huntress. Yet she had proven so strong and graceful and skilled in the two battles against the Daegmon that he had come to think of her as a warrior. And he had wondered why a people would send their women into battle. The Plains and the Westwash were two places in Gondisle he had never before traveled. He knew so little of their culture.
After Thimeon’s question, Tienna had been silent for some time, appearing to have taken insult. But after much prompting from Thimeon, and much praise of her skill and grace, she had broken her silence. “It was many years ago, in the time of my grandfather’s grandfather. Women did not hunt then. They depended on the men to bring the meat and skins needed for survival on the Plains. Instead, the women of my tribe remained in the village, preserving meat, preparing skins, repairing homes, making clothing, and doing many other chores of skill and use—but with no knowledge of the hunt. Then there came a time of terrible war on the Plains. It lasted all summer, through the winter, and into the following summer. And so, instead of hunting, the men went off to war. Most women did not see their men for months. Some never saw them again, so terrible was that war. And because the men were not hunting, there was no meat. The women and children began to starve.” Tienna paused in the midst of the story. Tears came to her eyes, as though she was telling the story of her own life, her own village, her own time. “The death toll of those left in the village was as great or greater than of those men lost to battle. And in that time, the women of my people—the grandmothers of our grandmothers—vowed they would never again starve because their men went to war. They began to train as huntresses.”
Jhonna’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Do you wish you did?”
“What?” Thimeon had to ask, jarred back to the present.
“Do you wish you did?” Jhonna repeated. “Do you ever wish for more power or strength than you have?”
Thimeon turned and looked again at the young woman beside him. Even as she spoke, her head was downcast, and her shoulders slumped in fatigue or discouragement. Her hair hung wet and dirty, and lines below her eyes showed her fatigue. Even so, she was beautiful. Stunningly so. She was also young and naive. At least her older sister had skill with a sword. What could Jhonna do in battle? And why, in the name of the Great Mountain, had Thimeon consented to let her come? He was still gazing at her when she lifted her head. For a moment their eyes met. “What are you looking at?” Jhonna asked, blushing.
“You,” Thimeon replied. “I have a sister your age. I miss her.” For the first time that day, he smiled. And as Jhonna continued to ride beside him, he told her about Cane and Cathros and the gifts of Power they possessed. Then he told her about Elynna and her ability to sense the Daegmon’s presence. And about Tienna’s gifts of health-sense and healing. And about the brothers Noab and Noaem. He told her also how he had met them and about his travels with his former company.
He did not finish until late morning. The rain had stopped falling, though water still dripped from the leaves. Coming upon a small creek that flowed across their path and into the river, they dismounted for a brief rest. While their horses drank from the stream, they refilled their own water skins.
Thimeon then noticed Lyn’s absence. Ever since the evening in Kreana, when he had seen Lyn talking to somebody in one of the taverns—or at least thought he had seen him—he had been keeping an eye on him. Now he kicked himself for having let him out of his sight. “Where is Lyn?” he asked Lluanthro, trying to hide the concern in his voice.
Lluanthro didn’t know. Neither did anybody else. “He was riding beside me for a while,” Kayam said. “He just disappeared.”
Thimeon pulled the prince aside. “I’m concerned about Lyn. I thought I saw him in Kreana talking with a stranger. After what Luban told us, I wondered if maybe—”
“Quiet!” the prince said. “Somebody’s approaching.” Before Thimeon could blink, all the officers had drawn their swords. Lluanthro had his bow out and an arrow to the string. The duke and Corandra had also drawn their blades but with their free hands helped Jhonna and Rammas get the horses off the trail and into the woods. A few seconds later, a single horse and rider appeared galloping up the road toward them. It was Lyn. He almost rode past before he saw them and reined in his mount.
“Where were you?” the prince asked in a threatening tone when Lyn had reined to a halt.
Lyn dismounted and took a few more seconds before answering. “Do you need to know all the details? Something I ate last night disagreed with me and my stomach was turning inside out. I stepped into the bushes to take care of it.”
Dhan stared at him for a long minute before he sheathed his blade and turned away. Thimeon wanted to question Lyn further, but he remembered the urgency in Cathwain’s plea for help and decided that the issue with Lyn could wait. Yet he determined to keep an eye on him. And now, at least, the prince knew of his concerns.
A short time later they rode on. The rain soon started again. Then around midday, it let up once more. The company took another rest and shared a meal. In the afternoon the sun broke through the clouds and came streaming through the breaks in the branches overhead. Now and then, through a clearing in the trees, they got a glimpse of the mountains ahead of them. The peaks were much closer now, though the company still had not begun their real ascent.
Late in the afternoon they came to the end of the woods and the start of the notch. A quarter mile on each side, the front range of the mountains rose up in near-vertical bluffs. Straight ahead the road passed through a wide gap, and down through that gap flowed the Ana River. It had spent several millennia carving its way along, and they could hear its steady rumble as it continued its slow work. Now the road was little more than a path cleared through the trees near the river and well enough worn to keep undergrowth from taking over. Ahead, the road became even less visible—just a darker and smoother way through the rocky terrain.
“The ascent should remain gentle for the rest of this day,” Thimeon announced. “We will not start to climb steeply until tomorrow.” The company continued onward.
At nightfall the clouds rolled in again with the threat of rain. Steep slopes rising on both sides reminded them that they had entered the notch, though the trail was still relatively level. Still fearing pursuit, Dhan had them bivouac several hundred feet off the road. He also set up a rotation of lookouts for the night. Corandra was perturbed that none of the women were given shifts at guard duty and grumbled, but Siyen—who had ridden beside her all day—told her to shut up. Lyn, who had been assigned the first shift, volunteered to let her take his shift, but the l
ook Armas shot at him was so fierce, Lyn almost ran to his post.
Thimeon was only dimly aware of this, however. His gaze was fixed once more on the mountains through the notch ahead where the village of Gale Enebe was nestled between the three peaks known as the Maker’s Knuckles.
38
THE GAERGAEN
“Welcome,” the Gaergaen said. His voice boomed through the hall like the voices of several people speaking at once. “We have been waiting. You saved us much work pursuing you across Gondisle.”
Elynna looked around in fear and confusion. She could feel the burning Daegmon power emanating from the throne. Had she not, with her own eyes, seen a human form seated there, she would have thought it was the Daegmon. “Just like Koranth,” she repeated. Her voice cracked as she spoke, but she forced out the words loud enough that all her companions could hear. “He is the enemy. This is the trap.”
This time the others understood. Several backed up and raised their swords in defensive postures. Nahoon shouted at Namha in his tongue. Tienna dropped to a crouch. Others raised their bows and aimed arrows toward the figure on the throne.
“So you have guessed,” said the Gaergaen. “Yes, the one you know as Koranth is my brother. A weaker brother, I might add. Had he done as well as I, you would all be dead.”
Elynna backed up another step. This was the intense malice she had felt. It wanted to destroy her, just as the Daegmon who attacked her village so many months earlier had also wanted to destroy her. It wanted to destroy all of the gifted. All of the gifts. All that was meant to oppose it.
She fought the panic. Clung to the strength flowing from Cane’s gift. This is what they had come for—to defeat this enemy that would destroy all of Gondisle if they did not stop it. Still, she could not help but back up again. She stood now three or four steps behind Cane. Several others backed up with her. But Cane stood rooted where he was, facing this new enemy.
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