The Journey of the Marked (The Miyran Heir Book 1)

by Rebecca P. McCray

  After a while, he heard someone moving around the campsite. He ignored the noises and concentrated even harder on the sunrise. Shortly thereafter, someone sat beside him.

  “Early start,” Aston commented.

  Azetan glanced at Aston out of the corner of his eye and said, “Old habit.” Despite agreeing to travel with the men, he still didn’t trust them completely, regardless of the fact that two were Plinte.

  Aston smiled and turned to watch the sunrise with Azetan. After a while he asked, “How did you find the others?”

  The question seemed harmless enough. “They, along with the undergrounders, saved my life. Dozens of Graeliths swarmed the streets the night I arrived in the city. I tried to lose or kill them, but more found me. Three trapped me in a small square. I defended myself well enough, but when three others joined the fight, I had little hope I would survive. Curfew had passed and no others were on the streets to help, or so I thought. Then five fighters jumped over the wall with swords drawn and evened the battle. A few of Anyamae’s warriors joined, as well. Together we defeated the Graeliths.”

  “You were very lucky! Will you travel with them?”

  “Yes. Why do you ask?”

  “Individually, the others are less likely to survive. Together, they are an impressive mix of species. I wondered if you recognized that.”

  “I never considered it, but you’re right; each possesses unique skills. We’ve already helped each other in many ways, it almost seems it was our destiny to find each other.”

  Aston nodded. “They will lean on you for strength and protection. They will also offer assistance to you, each in his or her own way. Yes, together, you’re stronger. Together, you may survive.”

  “Of course we will,” Azetan balked. “Why do you doubt us?”

  “I do not doubt, but I worry. From all that you have told us, Nord knows of your group. He’ll try to stop you.”

  “Let him try. We won’t die easily.” Azetan jumped off the rock and marched back to the campsite where the others were beginning to stir.

  Aston looked after him and smiled. Anyamae chose well this band of marked ones. Though her purpose remained a mystery to him, one thing was certain: They were marked at the same time and brought together for a reason. He hoped they lived long enough to fulfill that destiny.

  Chapter 37

  Ampal examined the well-crafted coffin, built in less than a day by a very skilled Raptan, an old friend of the family. The craftsman had begun carving an intricate woodcut design, which when complete, would tell the story of Ishta’s life. Ampal traced his fingers over the beginning of the pictorial story of his sister’s short life. In retrospect, she was the obvious choice among the family to be marked and he berated himself for not having realized it sooner. He chuckled sadly to himself as he remembered how much trouble she caused at school when she punched the school bully or retaliated harshly against an opposing sports team that played unfairly. Ishta honored the family with her fierce loyalties. He wondered if the news had reached his parents yet. How distraught they would be at the loss of their only daughter!

  Plinte culture revered a male child, a strong warrior. They honored male children outwardly and because of this, most species believed the Plintes preferred male children. In fact, quite the opposite was true. While male Plintes were necessary for protection, Plinte society prized female children as special gifts. The Plintes believed Ampal’s parents were among the blessed for they delivered two strong male children, followed by one daughter. Ishta claimed even greater praise for being a strong female fighter. While women Plintes learned to fight, few exhibited the skill Ishta had demonstrated. The entire town of Banston would be devastated by the loss. Ampal sighed heavily and rested his head on the top of the wooden box.

  *******

  Arith studied Ampal while they waited for the trader to finish his negotiations with another customer. As carrying the dead aboard an air transport was against the law, they would have to travel by wagon, which would be a long journey. Arith trusted Tshillek, the Bruner trader they selected to ferry Ishta’s body to Banston. However, their passage would be closely watched. To ensure their cargo’s safe arrival, Arith and Ampal would accompany the trader, along with the Raptan, who would continue working on the carving. To ensure the undergrounders were not singled out, they hired four others to travel with them for camouflage.

  Tshillek returned from his work with a smile, which quickly faltered as his eyes fell on the anguished figure of Ampal. He looked to Arith, who quietly signaled him to wait a moment, and then Arith gently placed a hand on Ampal’s sagging shoulders. When Ampal failed to move from the coffin, he leaned over and spoke quietly, “We’re ready to go now. The journey will take three days by foot and we must reach Banston by the end of the third day.”

  Ampal slowly raised himself from the box, brushing a single tear from the corner of his eye. He nodded and moved to take his place beside the wagon. The coffin lid was opened and several of the undergrounders carried Ishta on their shoulders in a slow procession from the doctor’s office where they had cleaned and prepared the body. She was dressed in a regal red, silver, and orange formal gown, a gift from one of the Plinte undergrounders. They placed her body in the open coffin and stood to the side. Arith then arranged the two cleaned swords next to her, one on her left and one on her right. Ampal removed the red and black necklace from his pocket and fastened it around Ishta’s neck. He ran his hand over her silky hair and closed his eyes for a moment. Then he kissed her forehead. The box was closed and Arith signaled the driver that they were ready.

  Tshillek urged his beast onward and the party began its long journey, which would cover a few streets in the southwestern portion of the city, then the countryside between Caldot and Banston. The wagon rumbled and rolled slowly through the streets, as hundreds poured from their homes and businesses to pay their respects to the dead. Scattered throughout the streets were the undergrounders. By prearrangement they had spread themselves across the city both to pay their respects and to ensure the party reached the outskirts of the city safely. Arith wondered if the mass of onlookers would continue through the entire journey or only through the city streets. He also wondered if the crowd would diminish if they learned she had been marked. While the Tyrnotts took pride in killing the marked, they no longer flaunted this to the general population. Perhaps they feared an uprising over the spilled blood of youth. This was something to consider, though not today. Today was for Ishta.

  As the party reached the city’s edge, they saw that Lady Anyamae had planned a tribute of her own. At least a dozen warriors in royal attire lined the procession path as they left the city. The warriors each held a musical instrument unique to his or her own species and these were now being played harmoniously in a traditional Plinte dirge honoring the dead. Arith glanced at Ampal, whose face shone with a fierce pride Arith had not seen in days.

  They passed through the warriors and Ampal and Arith nodded their heads in thanks. As they reached the last of the Lady’s performers, another warrior approached Ampal and motioned for Arith to join them. The warrior was a female Raptan.

  She spoke quietly. “Lady Anyamae wants you to know that she grieves with you. This is not the end she expected for such an honorable child.”

  Ampal waved his hand. “Ishta wanted to be a warrior more than anything else. That was her dream, her future. I know she fought well and would be pleased Lady Anyamae honors her.”

  Tears rose in the Raptan’s eyes as she placed her hand on Ampal’s arm. “You bring honor to your sister, even in her death. Lady Anyamae cannot change what has transpired, but wishes to ensure you reach Banston safely. I’m afraid, however, no warriors in such grand attire can be spared.” She looked at Arith as she spoke these words.

  Arith nodded his understanding as Ampal muttered, “We understand. The city needs the warriors.”

  She bowed her head and moved aside to allow the party to pass. Tshillek urged his beast onward and the par
ty continued through the city gates and onto the path toward Banston. The crowd thinned outside the city and soon the party found itself alone. A mile along the road, they came upon a group of four travelers, two Human and two Plinte, all going in the same direction. After a discussion, they decided the travelers could join their small party. As they continued the journey, Ampal looked back at Arith with a smirk. He caught Arith’s eye and pointed his chin toward the travelers’ well-made boots, obviously those of the Lady’s warriors. Arith chuckled as well.

  Chapter 38

  With breakfast eaten and the campsite packed into the nearby wagon, the party was ready for its trek across the wetlands. One of the old men fetched a sturdy mountain beast, an Eaoz, that had been tethered nearby. The animal was no taller than some of the men, but its legs rippled with muscle and its lean torso was massive with bulk. As was characteristic of the Eaoz, the animal’s shaggy hair covered its eyes and face, and its thick tail swished back and forth. Prizene watched as the man hitched the wagon to the beast and they started their journey, which would consume most of the daylight hours.

  The old men had explained to Prizene and the others over breakfast that there was only one safe path through the wetlands. Venturing off the path would alert the rizon, the water creatures that lived there. Shiny scales covered a rizon’s long, narrow body. Their short legs, which they used for paddling, easily fit flat against the creature’s body to ensure faster movement across the water. The long, slim tail helped them navigate when moving fast. These creatures traveled at amazing speed across the surface of the wetlands. Furthermore, the creatures’ razor-sharp teeth could devour a grown man in minutes, if given the chance.

  As the group neared the wetlands, the ground grew softer, sinking beneath Prizene’s feet. Tall reeds, most standing several feet high, grew within the water all across the wetlands. Spotting a moving rizon took little skill, since the wind rarely blew here; any movement among the reeds likely indicated a rizon. As the beasts stayed hidden without movement until an opportunity to attack presented itself, only venturing deep into the reeds carried a serious risk. She hoped she wouldn’t have to wade into the water.

  The group formed a line, walking two by two with two of the older men leading the group, followed by the wagon, Prizene and Tip immediately behind it, and the others in the rear. The water level clearly deepened farther away from the path they followed. No water creatures were visible.

  Prizene grew weary as they continued walking without a break throughout the day. She occasionally saw the distant reeds move, but no creatures ventured close to the path. As they neared the end of the walk, she spied drier land ahead and the reeds began to thin out. They picked up speed as they focused on finishing the journey. She would enjoy relaxing that evening when she didn’t have to worry about stepping off the path.

  While excited to be near the end, Prizene heard a sound from the patch of trees fifty yards to her left. The trees appeared to be part of the forest that grew into the wetlands from the far side. She stopped to listen more carefully in an attempt to identify the noise. Tip and the others walking behind her stopped as well.

  “What’s wrong?” Azetan asked.

  Prizene scanned the trees. “I hear something. A whimpering. Do you hear it?”

  The group listened, but no one other than Prizene claimed to hear anything except the heavy rolling of the wagon.

  Azetan said, “You must be mistaken. Look, we’re almost there. We should continue out of the wetlands.”

  Prizene refused to move. After all, the sound might be important. Azetan reached out to nudge her, when Eros stopped him. “Krystics frequently possess remarkable hearing. Prizene,” he asked, “do you often hear sounds others don’t?”

  Prizene nodded, still listening intently. “My father used to say there were no secrets in our house because I could hear through walls.”

  Aston called to the wagon driver to stop. He asked the driver to show Prizene the bag where the magnifier had been packed. Prizene collected the magnifier from the wagon and stretched it out to its full length. Holding the device to her eye, she pointed it toward the trees. She scanned the area slowly, noticing ripples in the water. As she shifted her position to see the water more clearly, she spotted it: the nose of a rizon bobbing up and down underneath one of the trees. She raised the magnifier slowly and saw its intended prey — a little animal struggling to hold onto one of the low-hanging branches. It whimpered every time its injured back leg struggled to push it back on top of the limb. Could it be? She turned the magnifier to focus more clearly on the little animal. Is that a flibbit? But, I thought they were extinct.

  Her stomach clenched. “We have to help it,” she said urgently. She lowered the magnifier to look at the others and described what she saw. “The poor little thing is tiny and helpless. It must have fallen off one of the higher branches.”

  “Can you tell what it is?” Aston asked.

  She hesitated. They probably wouldn’t believe it was a flibbit and she wasn’t certain. “No. Brown and small. That’s all I can see.”

  Azetan threw his hands up when he said, “You must be joking. Risk our lives to save a little brown creature you can’t even identify?”

  Prizene looked at Azetan and then the others. They all seemed to agree with Azetan. But Prizene remained steadfast; she couldn’t leave the animal to face certain death and she needed their help. She only believed in using the Krystic charm in special circumstances, but dire situations called for drastic measures. Long ago, she had learned how to leverage her charm, and with a group of mostly men, they would yield quickly. She turned her eyes toward the ground to compose herself. When she lifted her face, her eyes held the requisite amount of tears and she projected her desperation to the men as only a Krystic female could do. Her voice shook as she pleaded, “Please. We have to help it.” She batted her eyes slowly, lowered her head, and let her lower lip start to tremble.

  Prizene saw Kenrya roll her eyes, then shake her head. At least she didn’t interfere. Tip succumbed more quickly than the others, but one by one they buckled. The group agreed to try and save the poor little animal. Prizene awarded them all with a grateful smile. They contemplated the best way to reach the trees, grab the animal, and make it back to the safe path before more water creatures sensed their presence. Luckily, the reeds here were few and only the one rizon was currently visible. Because the old men moved slower than the marked ones, they agreed the men would position themselves on the wagon with powerful crossbows and the marked ones would venture into the water. Tip had proved the day before that he was the fastest, not to mention the only one unable to use a sword effectively. He was chosen to save the animal and dash back to the safe path. Eros would go to the tree with Tip to fend off the rizon and Azetan, Kenrya, and Prizene would position themselves between the path and the trees to watch for any other creatures nearby. Eros tried to convince Kenrya to wait in the wagon, but her stubbornness had resurfaced full force during the day and she refused. Their plan hatched, they removed their packs and other loose items besides their swords and tightened their shoes. The ground below the water was sometimes rocky and slippery, so their shoes would be necessary to protect their feet.

  Prizene insisted they hurry, as the animal’s cries were sounding weaker. Eros and Tip looked at each other and nodded. Eros pulled his sword and they stepped into the ankle-high water.

  The water level deepened to their upper calves a few feet from the safe path and Eros and Tip strained to shift their legs through the water’s increasing resistance. They waded as quickly as they could without splashing to minimize the risk that the rizon would realize they were in the water.

  The other three drew their swords and stepped more gingerly into the water, watching for movement of any hidden water creatures. Kenrya followed directly behind Tip and Eros, though far more cautiously and alert. Prizene and Azetan followed, Prizene moving out toward the right and Azetan to the left. The creatures wouldn’t venture close to the s
afe path due to the slightly lower water level, and the old men could guard the area of wetlands behind the marked ones. Hence, they focused on the water in front of them.

  As Tip and Eros neared the trees, the rizon under the low-hanging branch sensed them and sprang out of the water toward Tip. He let out a loud shriek, lost his footing, and almost fell into the water. Eros kept moving forward and swung his sword, slicing easily through the creature’s neck, severing the head. Tip quickly regained his footing and held his hand to his chest, calming himself.

  “What is he, a five-year-old girl?” Kenrya said with loud exasperation. Azetan chuckled.

  Tip stayed motionless for only a second and then the little brown animal lost its grip on the branch. Tip lunged and caught it. He came down on his knee in the water, soaking his pants up to the thigh and making a loud splash. With his mission accomplished and the rizon likely aware of their presence, he stood and turned at a run back toward the safe path. Eros watched the water for a moment, then followed Tip.

  Tip and Eros had to lift their legs high to run through the water toward the safe path. Tip gained distance from Eros, better conditioned to withstand such a physical challenge. As Eros neared the water where Kenrya stood, a rizon sailed across the top of the water toward them. The creature’s speed was phenomenal.

  “Water creature right behind you, Eros,” Kenrya yelled. “Run!”

  As Eros passed her, the rizon sprang out of the water. Kenrya swung her sword, catching the creature’s open mouth and splitting it straight through its torso. Then Eros and Kenrya started backing toward the safe path, as did Prizene and Azetan. Prizene trailed behind Tip ten yards, while Azetan would meet Kenrya and Eros twenty yards from the safe path. As they neared this point, Prizene called out another rizon sighting, this one coming from the far side of Azetan. Azetan continued backing up with his eyes on the creature. He was a few feet from the others when the creature vaulted out of the water like a rocket. Two of the old men shot bolts from their crossbows, one lodging into the creature’s back and the other directly into its eye. Ripples started appearing all over the water and Aston yelled at them to run for the path.