by Kris A Hiatt
“You’re doing better than your friend,” Jass observed.
Treace looked to his left and was relieved to see Kiril, head down, still plodding along next to him. But his heart sank when he saw Moffred. His friend had fallen and was being dragged behind the horse. He was on his back, which Treace thought was a good thing compared to being dragged face down. He couldn’t see his friend’s face, it was turned away from him, but he imagined he’d find Moffred either out cold or dead. He hurried forward and slid under Kiril’s rope, trying to get to his friend, hoping he was still alive.
“Leave him,” Jass commanded.
“Let me check on him. He’s no good to you dead,” Treace protested.
“If he is, he is,” Jass said simply.
“Let me carry him,” Treace pleaded.
“Why would I do that?”
Treace had to think of a good answer for that. What would Jass get out of it? She was, after all, a mercenary. There had to be some benefit to her.
“Because his family is wealthy,” Kiril said behind him.
It was so simple that Treace wondered why it didn’t come to him instantly.
“More for them if he dies then,” Jass replied.
“They’ll pay to make sure he stays alive,” Treace said, following Kiril’s lead.
“More than the King?” Jass asked.
“You mean Shamir?” Treace asked. Did Shamir name himself as King? That was an interesting bit of information. He wondered if Liernin knew of it.
“He is the King,” Jass said. “And I don’t think your friend has more money than him.”
“But the King doesn’t care if he lives or dies,” Kiril said. “But his family does.”
“But you’re missing the point,” Jass told them.
“Which is?” Kiril asked.
“That I could care less if he lived or not.”
Treace thought about correcting her. The way she said it inferred she did care to some degree. She should have said that she couldn’t care less. He bit his tongue, though, knowing full well that it would earn Kiril a painful blow she didn’t deserve and that it wouldn’t help Moffred’s situation either.
“Just go see to him,” Kiril ordered. “I’ll gladly take a punch to make sure he’s alive.”
Treace didn’t bother looking to Jass for approval, he turned and hurried to his friend. He was ashamed for not checking on Moff right away.
“Aren’t you brave all of a sudden,” Jass said to Kiril.
“If you’re going to hit me, just do it and shut your filthy hole,” Kiril told her.
Treace was amazed at how much contempt there was in Kiril’s voice. Jass must really be under her skin. Everything he knew about Kiril told him she wasn’t typically that open with her words. He checked for a pulse in Moff’s neck. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found one.
“My filthy hole?” Jass asked. “You want to kiss me now?”
“I’ll pass,” came Kiril’s reply.
“Well,” Jass said. “If he wants to tire himself out carrying that idiot, who am I to stop him? He’ll be less likely to cause trouble that way anyway.”
“He’s alive,” Treace announced, trying to pull Moffred up.
“Thank Kaden,” Kiril said.
It was difficult for him to get a good grasp around Moff. With bound hands he couldn’t reach all the way around his friend’s body. He opened his hands as far as he could, but it wasn’t enough. He was going to have to rely on sheer grip strength to make this happen. It would be much easier both of them were not moving. Granted, the horse wasn’t moving very fast, but picking someone up off the ground while moving was much harder than he thought it would be. He figured pulling Moff closer to the horse to produce slack would make it easier. That way they both could be in the same spot for a short amount of time.
After a few unsuccessful attempts Treace managed to get the timing right and hoisted Moffred over his shoulder, lower body in front of him and his head and torso behind. It took all of his strength to do so, but he made it work. He was nearly pulled to the ground because of the rope tied around Moff’s arms. He didn’t allow for enough slack between Moff and the horse. He needed to get closer to the rear of Grag’s horse to keep from toppling over.
“How long can you hold him like that?” Kiril asked quietly.
Treace knew exactly where she was going with her questioning. He couldn’t hope to carry Moff the rest of the way to Kadenton. With his hands bound together it was difficult enough keeping his friend balanced on his shoulder, let alone walking for hours that way. “We’ll find out.”
“The next time we stop,” Kiril said from close behind. “I’ll try to heal him.”
She spoke quietly and with the droning rain Treace didn’t think Jass could hear what was said. He hoped not. He knew Kiril could find The Calm quickly, but he also knew it would be tough to hide what she was doing unless he caused a distraction. The problem was that if he caused a distraction, Kiril would be the one to get punished for it. He wasn’t certain he could go along with it.
“There’s really no other choice,” Kiril told him.
“Maybe there is,” Treace argued, thinking of being in a trance while walking. He assumed their mental connection wasn’t fully gone and was the reason for Kiril’s previous response. He was trying to paint her a picture in his mind. He didn’t know if finding The Calm while walking was even possible, but he was going to try.
Jass began humming her tune.
“When we get out of this,” Kiril said. “You’re teaching me how to use a sword.”
“If we get out of this,” Treace corrected. “But why?”
“You’ll hear of Jass and think of nothing,” Kiril replied, quietly mimicking Jass’s tune.
He’d never had a student, and while the idea had a certain appeal to it, the way she said it sent chills down his spine. “Vengeance doesn’t suit you,” Treace told her.
“You never know until you try,” Kiril responded.
He decided that she probably didn’t see the plan in his head after all. He wanted to discuss her cold comment and how it didn’t seem to be her, but it was not the time for that type of conversation. He had other things to do. “I need to concentrate to find The Calm,” Treace told her, knowing she’d understand his intent then.
“Is that even possible?”
“You never know until you try,” Treace said, using her words. “Now let me concentrate.”
He paused for a few seconds to ensure she wasn’t going to say anything else, then he closed his eyes and concentrated on his steps. It was more difficult walking in a straight line with his eyes closed, especially with Moffred’s added weight. He took a dozen steps at first, then opened his eyes to ensure he was on the correct line. It became immediately apparent that the idea wouldn’t work and he thought he knew why. When he fell asleep before, he managed to stay in a line behind the horse because the rope was tight against him, pulling him along and keeping him in line. He let go of Moffred, carefully judging whether or not he could balance his friend on his shoulder. He had to lean to his left in order to keep his friend from falling, but figured he could manage it for the few seconds that he needed. He threaded his arms in circles, wrapping his rope around them as he walked. Once done, he gripped Moffred’s lower leg to help keep his friend balanced on his shoulder.
When he thought he went far enough so that the tension would be fully on him, he repeated the test with his eyes closed. After a few minutes and a couple of minor adjustments, he was confident he could remain behind the horse. There was nothing left to do but try to find The Calm and heal Moff.
Treace again closed his eyes and tried to push everything from his mind so he could concentrate on The Calm. Images of Moffred being dragged, Unther’s burning hair, Jass slapping him in the face, and Disdane’s sword crashing down at him all filled his mind. He cast them aside, one by one, leaving the one of Moffred for last. He let that image stay for a short time as a reminder of how impo
rtant it was that he pull this off.
He could feel his feet moving and he tried to ignore them. He could picture them being placed one in front of the other. He hoped when he found The Calm they didn’t stop. He pictured the jumbled mess he and Moff would make if he were to stop walking and be pulled to the ground by the horse. He couldn’t worry about that, though, he had to try. Even if he could find The Calm while walking, that would be the easy part. He couldn’t think of anything else but healing Moff. If he did, the magic would fail. He didn’t know exactly what would happen, but his friend needed him. He needed to focus. He removed all thoughts from his mind.
With all images gone, he focused on The Calm. The sound of the rain quickly receded. The weight of Moffred on his shoulders lightened. His protesting muscles quieted and he was at peace with himself. He had found The Calm.
He concentrated on the thoughts and memories he knew would bring forth the healing magic. His mother and Jensen, Moff and Heral, and, of course, his father’s letter. Once he felt his body become filled with love, he willed it to heal his friend. He could feel it mend Moffred’s wounds and rejuvenate him. He let it pour out of him until he knew there was nothing more he could do.
He opened his eyes and found that he was still behind the horse, ropes taut yet not pulling hard at him. He couldn’t believe he did it so easily. It didn’t seem that difficult to him. He wondered why it wasn’t taught at the school, but then realized it wasn’t a situation that would often arise. How often would a brother at the College find themselves needing to use any magic while moving? With war imminent, he thought that might soon change.
Moffred began to wiggle and Treace could tell he was about to lose hold of his friend. “Whoa, Moff. I’ve got you.”
“You did it!” Kiril said quietly yet excitedly.
“Can you put me down?” Moff begged. “I think all of my blood is in my head.”
Treace did as he was asked. He bent low and let Moffred slide off of his shoulder.
Moff fell right in front of him, making him fall too. They both landed in a heap. Treace felt the rope tighten around his arms and he was quickly pulled along.
“Damnit!” Moffred groaned.
The horse slowed as Treace tried to extricate himself from the ropes and from Moff. He figured the weight of two people pulling against the horse made it harder on the animal.
“Get up you idiots,” Treace heard Grag say.
Treace rolled his arms in circles, opposite way of the rope, unwinding it as he did so. When all of it was unwound, he scrambled to his feet.
“That didn’t last long,” Jass said.
Treace guessed she was talking about how long he carried Moff, but he ignored her and helped Moff to his feet.
“Moffred, limp,” Kiril whispered through the rain.
Treace could hear alarm in Kiril’s voice and looked around. Grag and Jass were both looking at them. Grag looked annoyed, but Jass looked at them with suspicion clearly written upon her face. It made sense. Just a few moments ago Moff was unconscious and being dragged behind a horse. Now he was walking next to Treace without a noticeable limp. He wondered if Moff could hear Kiril through the rain. “Limp!” Treace whispered sideways.
Moffred did as he was told and began limping on his previously wounded leg.
“Was wondering if we’d have to drag your dead body all the way to Kadenton,” Jass said to Moff.
“Just needed a nap,” Moff replied nonchalantly.
Jass was visibly set back by Moff’s words. Treace could almost see her running the scenario through her mind. How did Moffred wake back up, seemingly no worse for wear, after being dragged behind a horse for who knows how long? The way it unsettled her gave him a little satisfaction.
Both Grag and Jass looked at each other for a brief moment. Grag shrugged his shoulders and after another look back at Moff, Jass looked forward again and urged her horse on.
~~~
They had travelled at least half a day since Treace had healed Moff. Most of it was without incident. There was a tense spot when Jass was kind enough to stop at a small stream for a few minutes. The horses and people alike drank from it, and Jass allowed each of them to eat an apple. The problem was that the only way Jass let Treace eat the apple was after she cut a slice from it and stuck it in her mouth. He had to use his mouth to take it from her. He had declined at first, but after looking at Kiril, who urged him to go along with it, he accepted. They hadn’t eaten for days and they were all starving. Kiril’s look told him that she understood his problem, but starvation was much worse than having Jass’s lips on his food and, of course, on his lips. Jass had kissed him every time he took a bite. After each kiss she’d look at Kiril and smile her terrible smile. He ignored her lips and concentrated on his food.
Now they were closing in on Kadenton, less than a day’s walk. They had stopped briefly as another rider approached them. Treace recognized him as Kaz.
“And will they meet my demands?” Jass asked Kaz as the man came near.
Treace got the impression that they had to be speaking of Shamir and his men. Kaz left on the first day and must have ridden straight through to make it there and back in time. His horse looked fresh for the most part, so Treace thought he must have swapped it for a new one.
“They will,” Kaz confirmed.
“Damn boys,” Jass said excitedly. “We can retire!”
“There is one small problem,” Kaz added.
“Damnit, Kaz. Lead off with that shit next time,” Jass told him sullenly. “You got me all excited.”
“It involves him,” Kaz said, pointing at Treace.
Treace had no idea what involvement he had in any of this. Why would he be involved? Everyone looked at him.
“Someone else has the same request as you,” Kaz explained. “And theirs is will be the one that’s honored.”
“We’ll see about that,” Jass said, absently scratching her cheek. She thought about something for a few moments before saying anything else. “But the rest of the deal is intact?”
“It is.”
“Well, let’s get this done with,” Jass said.
Chapter 18
Drevic believed that what Yelsn had suggested was a good idea, but he felt as if he would be an imposter if he did it. “Are you certain this is the best course of action?”
“I am,” Yelsn replied. “The murmurs of the people are no longer only murmurs. They are speaking of it openly. They know there are only a handful of acolytes left. The Archbishop and all of his bishops are gone. The Church is virtually void of members.”
“But I’m not even of your order,” Drevic argued. That was the part that he couldn’t get over. He had no problems speaking in front of others. He was the leader of the College, it was part of the job, and one he enjoyed. But this wasn’t the same thing.
“We aren’t asking you to actually join,” Yelsn countered.
“Then what’s the point?”
“You know the point,” Yelsn told him. “You are the leader of your order. To speak on our behalf would help ease the consciences of the people.”
“What about the rest of your order, how would they feel?”
“You have earned the respect of the remaining acolytes. We would be honored.”
“I’ve only been around them for a month,” Drevic said, trying to make sense of this whole thing.
“It doesn’t take a month to know that a good man is good,” Yelsn replied pausing between the last two words.
“And you really believe that this would help?”
“I do.”
“Wouldn’t I be seen as a charlatan?” Drevic asked. He wasn’t sure how the people would feel about him leading a sermon.
“I’ll prepare the sermon for you, you’ll simply have to give it,” Yelsn explained. “You would be speaking the truth. There would be no false pretenses.”
Drevic thought about it for a few moments. He knew the Church was drastically weakened by Vrindel’s move. Weakened to t
he point so that its existence was in question. Surely not in Kadenton where the Archbishop was, but at least here in Haven. But Drevic couldn’t get over the fact that he wasn’t a member of the Church. To speak at mass wasn’t something he was prepared to do. Even if he did, what good would it do?
“I know you believe in him,” Yelsn said. “If that’s what is giving you pause. Don’t let it.”
“Just because I believe in Kaden doesn’t mean I’m the proper person to lead a sermon on his behalf.”
“As a leader and a man of faith,” Yelsn argued. “You are the perfect person to give sermon.”
“I’m not so certain.”
“You and I being here together is not a coincidence.”
“Are you suggesting Kaden had something to do with this?” Drevic asked. He may believe in Kaden and was willing to accept that the magic the brothers of the Onneron College could use was a gift from him, but to say that Kaden had some way of making events unfold to his desires? Drevic wasn’t ready to believe in that.
“Of all the people to take up residence here after most of my order moved,” Yelsn said. “You’re the one. The one man outside of my order that I spent time getting to know. Isn’t it obvious?”
“Obvious that coincidences happen.”
“So it’s simply a coincidence then?” Yelsn asked.
“I believe so.”
“Consider this. When your order had nowhere else to go, this place became your home. When my order lost its leader, one arrived.”
Drevic mulled over what Yelsn had said. He just insinuated that he could become the leader of both orders. He didn’t want to believe it to be true. He wanted to refute what Yelsn had said, to call it simple coincidence, yet for some reason he couldn’t. There was something there. He wasn’t ready to call it some sort of divine guidance, but neither was he ready to fully discount it. He also thought Yelsn was wrong about Vrindel. He had said that he had lost his leader. He wasn’t lost, he was just in a different place. “Vrindel was placed in a very difficult spot during that meeting at the College. I would have made the same decision as he did.”