“No,” said Valam, his voice full of wisdom as he spoke, “the balance is brought back in check. Our past is also catching up to us.”
“You, my friend, have learned much.”
“Yes, and no.”
“What will you do now? Will you return to your home? Or will you stay?”
“I do not know, to tell you the truth. I must think, and there are several I must confer with before I decide.”
“Father Jacob is a wise man. He will know what is right for you where we may not. Go and talk to him.”
“I was not referring to Jacob. Do you know where I can find Teren?”
“Teren?” asked Tsandra, “Why, whatever for?”
“I know where Teren is,” said Seth. “He arrived in camp only a short time ago and he asked for you, but at that time I did not know where you were, and I only now recalled his inquiry to mind.”
“Yes, I would. Seth, thank you,” said Valam rushing out without even saying good-bye. His exodus led him back to his own tent, where he hoped to find Teren waiting. He wasn’t surprised to find another there. Valam closely inspected Jacob’s demeanor before he said a word. What followed was largely an apology and a subtle explanation, neither of which actually said anything.
Luckily, Father Jacob was clever enough to see through it all to find understanding, the only thing he had hoped to attain. The two sat regarding each other for a time and then Jacob left, departing just as Teren found his way to Valam’s quarters. Teren entered without announcement and without offering greetings to Jacob. Neither was surprised to hear an alarm sound throughout the camp moments later. Riders had been spotted approaching from the north, a large group by all accounts.
Chapter Twenty
One day passed without concern, and a second; now thoughts switched to their arrival at Krepost’, which would be soon. Xith considered the time lost as a whole, and he figured that they were now several days behind schedule, perhaps more. He took into consideration the rains of the previous days and their directions. They would have to push hard, very hard, for he knew that soon the storms would arrive, and with them passage to the north would come to an end until the seasons changed.
Strangely, they met their first travelers along the road this day, which was not entirely coincidence. Casually, nonchalantly, they greeted each other as they passed. The caravan consisted of many wagons. Xith counted twelve in all as the last one creaked on by. Adrina was unusually excited as she watched them cross alongside the carriage through her small peephole. Nijal was still halfway between sleep and consciousness despite Adrina’s nudging and did not wake fully until much later.
Adrina rested her hands on her stomach. She thought back, trying to remember how much time had passed, how long it had been since she’d met the Dragon King. There were many things she did not know, but the one thing she did know was that Tnavres’s presence was both a curse and a blessing. When she took the tiny dragon, she thought her move bold until the Dragon King mocked her saying, “As if you had a choice.”
The Dragon King also told her that one of them would be his regardless of what they did. Matched doors of black and white were the final test. White was supposed to bring the hope of life; black death. She chose black; Vilmos chose white. The dragon’s milk later saved Valam from the deadly poison and perhaps cursed him. The dragon’s milk later saved her and perhaps cursed her as well.
Feeling overwhelmed by all these thoughts, she snuggled tightly into the corner, drinking in the warmth against her hands, sending back feelings of joy and happiness. She dozed off to a light sleep, which did not come without dreams. When she awoke, Nijal’s eyes upon her seemed to delve into her very soul and as she looked up with sleep still in her eyes, she was startled. She shrank back as he reached out his hand to her until her wits were fully gathered. “Nijal, I am sorry. I thought it was—oh, never mind. I’m starving. When will we stop for lunch?”
“We already did. I am sorry I did not wake you. You looked so peaceful sleeping, I did not want to disturb you.”
Adrina frowned and rubbed her belly. Nijal was hesitant, but eventually produced a small basket, which had been tucked beneath his discarded cloak. Adrina was quick to snatch it up and devour most of its contents, saving only two apples. She gave one to Nijal as her way of saying thanks, and because he was looking hungrily at them in her hands. “Apples, I love apples!” exclaimed Adrina. “Where did you get them?”
“On a little sojourn through the wilderness three days ago.”
“Late apples are the best, sweet and tangy, with a coat thick and crunchy!”
The great road took a turn to the north as evening fell upon them at a crossroads of sorts. Many paths seemed to sprout not far from the point where they had chosen to camp for the night. Some were old and largely overgrown. Others were apparently very well traveled; neither weed nor bush could be seen, at least as far as they could see or as far as they dared to venture. They were sure, though, that they were on the right path, for the great road had many characteristics that marked it, and they had been waiting now for several days for it to take its gradual turn to the north.
Neither Xith nor Noman liked the feel of the place they were in, and so they set a double watch this night. With so many to choose from, it had been two nights since Nijal last sat the watch. He took first watch, weary as he was, without complaint. He had only wanted to rest and to close his eyes, but he would have to hold off for two more hours.
Time dragged on slowly for him, but at least he was able to carry on a fragmented conversation with Shchander. Before he knew it, he was lying down to rest. Shalimar and another relieved the two, and after them Amir and Trailer took over. Trailer was a nickname for one of Shchander’s men, who was most often found as the last man in the group; thus he had gained the name Trailer.
For the most part Shchander’s men were very tight lipped. They held to the code of the warrior and the free man, and they took their responsibilities very seriously. Shchander, as their leader, was their voice and acted as such. The only person who appeared to be put off by their silence, and quite visibly so, was Adrina. She had taken a liking to Shalimar in an odd sort of way, and he had taken much abuse for his previous thoughtlessness. Amir smiled as he thought of Adrina, and soon he pictured another in his thoughts. The last two on watch were Xith and Noman, against the wishes of all present, who contended there was no need.
Xith was cheerful as morning came but withdrawn to his thoughts. After a meager breakfast, Amir and several others went for a short hunt, which they should have done the previous night but had delayed. Soon, after cleaning their catch this day, they were putting distance between themselves and the place where they had camped.
The air was cool and as they now moved through an area populated largely of oak, the rustle of crunching leaves beneath them was the predominant sound. For the most part, the trees were bare now, with few leaves that sought to hang on against the wishes of Mother-Earth. Some grew thankful for the sight of pine, which never lost its color. Its green appeared brighter amidst the brown.
Noman watched Amir very carefully this day. He saw the tension in his muscles, which Amir sought to ease by flexing and massaging. Noman watched Amir play as if he held a blade in his hand, sweeping slowly about his body. Noman knew this was more than just practice or unease. Amir’s senses were very keen, and when he was agitated, the waiting preyed heavily upon him. Noman kept fully alert this day.
Just before mid-day, they happened upon a traveler who journeyed alone. The man turned out to be a minstrel of sorts, and he passed a short while with them playing songs: songs of the sea beyond the forest and the city in the mountain, of green sky and blue lands. He was a pleasant fellow, and they paid him no heed, which was odd in itself. The singer never offered his name, nor did they ask. Neither did he ask for theirs, although in passing he did mention the name of Krepost’, the aerie on high.
Xith turned cheerful thoughts now to the path that lay ahead of them. He had
not been in the fair city in such a long time that he had forgotten the laughter and mirth it held, which was in strong contrast to its sister city deep within the forest. Even Noman recalled the place with fondness. Although he had not been there in a long time, he did not think it had changed much.
Their camp this evening stood light, with only a single watchman. A low fire burned in a small hearth throughout the night. High overhead even the stars came out in force with a near-perfect moon in their midst. Amir passed the guard off to Shalimar who in turn gave it to Trailer, and then to Nijal; and if Nijal had known better, he would have counted the hours of his watch.
The day arrived with a bit of rain. Although it was mostly a fine mist, it held a hint of ice. After a sluggish start and a short hunt, they returned to their path. They soon found themselves near the edges of the Krasnyj in a place where it raged in full fury, a sign that they were close to the fabled city. They took a much-needed reprieve alongside the cool, actually icy, waters, but they bathed and filled containers just the same.
Adrina also seized the opportunity to rid herself of the filth of travel, and bathed in a secluded pool with only Amir to watch over her. He promised he wouldn’t look. Adrina bade him to turn his back nonetheless. The cold water took mental coaxing to enter, but she did, and once she was within it, it did not seem so uncomfortable.
She leaned back, rinsing her hair. Pleasant, peaceful thoughts flowed through her mind. When she opened her eyes moments later she was shocked to see Tnavres withdrawn from her and in the water beside her. She wasn’t sure if the tiny dragon was swimming or floundering, but she stood and plucked him from the water all the same, chastising him with her finger.
“Return,” she commanded in a harsh whisper. Tnavres glared at her, then locked his jaws around her hand. As his teeth plunged inward, the flesh of her hand turned to stone. She gripped her forearm and squeezed with all her might, trying to stop the progression.
“No, no, no,” she whispered as tears streaked down her cheeks.
“You don’t listen,” came the voice.
“But I have listened. I gave you all I could. What more can I give?”
“Tnavres will tell you when it is time. Do as you’ve been told.”
“No,” she whispered.
Tnavres entered her angrily, letting her know the force of his will. He sank into the flesh of her upturned palm, swept up within her arm and crossed her innards to his resting place in her belly. His mark was upon her right palm now where she could look upon it and remember.
Adrina found that getting out of the water was even more difficult than entering. The air was colder against her skin than the water, and she did not wish to leave it, as much as she tried. “Amir,” she called out softly, but when he did not turn, she said it again louder, “Amir!”
“Yes,” he said turning around.
“Turn back around!”
“My dear, what is it you wish of me?” asked Amir, knowing exactly what Adrina wanted.
“Please hand me my wraps and without looking.”
“I told you I won’t look.”
“Just give them to me,” said Adrina standing up, reaching out to get the cloak Amir had in his hands. Amir made her walk a few steps to get them before he finally gave them to her. A smile lit his face as he turned away. Adrina’s face was flushed with both embarrassment and anger. He thought it suited her nicely.
Adrina glared at him, and stomped back to where the others waited for her and Amir. “A little bit of privacy!” shouted Adrina as she retreated into the coach, throwing down its shades and locking the doors. Amir approached Xith. With a grin still on his lips, he went up to the carriage door and knocked on it two times.
“What! What?” shouted Adrina, not opening the door.
“You’ll want these,” said Amir.
Adrina peeked out the window to see what he held, and then threw the door open. She was quick to grab the remainder of her belongings and then in anger, she touched her right hand to his shoulder. Amir chuckled, a deep, rolling laugh. The sound began as a trickle, and just as it rose, it stopped. Amir flexed his shoulders, and rolled his head to ease the stiffness.
He dropped to one knee as he fought to draw his sword. “Noman!” he strained to scream, but nothing issued forth. An icy hand dealt him another blow, this time to the left shoulder. He turned his head to look at the creature he perceived behind him just as it stepped forward.
Pain shot through his legs, then his back, and finally his arms. Wildly, he flailed the air using the last of his strength to lash out. He fell backwards to the ground with a thud, striking his head against the coach as he went down. As his world faded to darkness, Adrina closed the door to the coach.
Chapter Twenty One
Stone walls rose high and sheer about them. Calyin, Midori, and Edwar Serant wound their way among the many turns, delving deep into the shadows. A soft tapping sound followed their path, high above, though none below knew it. They walked in a single column with Midori to the fore and Serant to the rear, each leading one of the horses. They held to a slow, steady pace, carefully picking their way among the rocks and crevices. Frequently, they thought of Geoffrey and Captain Brodst.
Ahead the canyon appeared to end in a solid rock wall, but still they made their way toward it, seemingly inch by inch. Lord Serant followed the lee of the river, not paying heed to the wall’s proximity to them. The churning of the water spoke volumes to him. Somewhere in front of them, the river’s path turned downward.
The river gradually cut a deep course into the rock and a distance of only a few feet separated them from the waters. As the depth gradually increased, Lord Serant began to move away from the river’s edge, and it was here that he first noticed the etchings into the rock. A shallow path of sorts had been carved out of the rocks through years of wear. The path ran smooth and straight. He regarded it as a roadway of sorts and supposed that long ago this path had been heavily traveled.
Some hours later they stopped to gather their bearings and to provide tired bodies with a bit of nourishment. The sheer wall looming immediately before them, jagged, tall and insurmountable, was perhaps an additional reason they had decided to stop. Here the trail ended, but they did not acknowledge its presence.
A high, shrill sound from high above startled them, and all conversation stopped. The three drew their blades and watched, waiting as many figures slithered down ropes in front of them and to either side. Those across the river they did not fear, for they saw no way for them to traverse it, so they turned toward the others. Slowly, they sought to retreat.
Serant flailed out with his foot, only to come upon empty air. He cocked his head back, and half turned to look. He saw the river swirling with white waters well below him. He turned quickly back to face those approaching with his eyes continually darting to the two at his side. A gleam, a glitter, he caught in Midori’s eyes, and anger was upon her face. She held her long dagger before her without wavering. Calyin gripped her blade with nervous hands, but she did not lower it as those that came closer demanded.
Lord Serant looked again to Calyin and then to Midori. He quietly told them that should all else fail, the river was their safest route, no matter their thoughts on the subject. He touched Calyin’s hand one last time, and then moved forward two steps. Calyin moved towards him, but he pushed her back. “And just where will you be?” said Calyin into Serant’s ear.
“Lower your blades; we mean you no harm. We only wish to separate you from your purse, and then we will leave you.”
“Do as I say!” said Serant, hurriedly.
“I will not go,” returned Calyin.
“Tsk tsk!” shouted the man who now stood directly in front of Lord Serant; only their blades separated them.
“Just what is it you want?” asked Serant, in a haughty deep bass.
“Only your gold, nothing more, nothing less!”
“You may have all the gold we carry if you leave us now.”
“Give i
t to me, and we shall leave. You have my word.”
“A word is a bond, is it not?” asked Serant, moving back a short pace.
“Why, of course, of course. If a man cannot keep a promise, he is not a man.”
Lord Serant fumbled through his cloak and retrieved a small leather pouch, which he tossed to the man. The man sheathed his sword, untied the small purse, and emptied the coins into his hand, counting each in turn, and shaking his head at each. “Surely you have more than this?”
“That is all the gold I have.”
“What of the ring on your finger and the gem on the crown of the hilt of your sword?”
“They are not gold.”
“Ah yes, but are they not worth their weight in gold?” questioned the man, raising his blade again.
Complete In the Service of Dragons Page 52