by Simon Hawke
“But I am not a man, my lord,” Ryana said. “And neither is my friend. He is an elfling.”
“We do not question your abilities, my lady,” said Lord Ankhor. “It is well known that priestesses of the villichi order are trained from childhood to deal with all manner of adversities, and Sorak here, beyond a doubt, is quite capable and possesses great powers of endurance. But consider the terrain you plan to cross. There is no more rugged and dangerous ground in all of Athas than the Stony Barrens. You will find no forage for yourselves or for your mount. There is no water. The ground is very rocky and difficult to traverse. It is impossible to move quickly. During the day, the sun bakes the barrens until the heat will roast your feet right through your shoes. And that is to say nothing of the predators that lurk there.”
“And even if, by some miracle, you should survive the barrens, you will still need to cross the mountains on the other side,” Torian added. “And take it from one who has traveled in those mountains—it is no easy journey. Nor is it a safe one. Of course, if you try to cross the barrens, you need not worry about crossing the mountains safely. You shall never reach them.”
“He is right,” said Ankhor. “On a map, it is true, the journey may appear much shorter, but a map does not tell the entire story. And no one has ever mapped out the barrens. I urge you, in the strongest terms, to reconsider.”
Ryana was about to reply, but Sorak spoke first. “Doubtless, you and my lord Torian are much more familiar with the country in these parts than we are, and we are grateful for your warning. What route would you advise we take instead?” Ryana glanced at him with surprise, but said nothing.
“Well, from here, whether you travel by the northern or the southern route, the distance would be about the same,” said Ankhor. “However, if you took the southern route, you would be able to stop at Altaruk and rest for a few days until you continued on your journey. The village of Altaruk is the seat of our merchant empire. Mention my name and you will find a warm welcome at the house of my father for as long as you may care to stay.”
“And you may break your journey once again at Gulg,” said Torian, “where you would receive a welcome at my family’s estate, as well.”
“You are both most kind and generous,” said Sorak. “We shall take the southern route, then, and do as you suggest.”
“Well, that is a relief,” said Ankhor. “To think, if Torian had not asked about your route… We shall not think of what might have transpired.”
“It was fortunate for us, then, that we met you,” Sorak said. “Whatever debt you may have felt you owed me, consider it repaid.”
Ankhor smiled. “Excellent. I do so like it when accounts are balanced. You plan to leave first thing in the morning, then?”
“Yes, since we are to take a longer route, it would be best if we started early,” Sorak said.
“Well, I am not an early riser, myself,” said Ankhor, “so I shall not take offense if you have already departed when I wake. We shall say our farewells tonight, then, and I shall see to it that fresh packs of provisions are prepared for you. May I offer you the use of one of my tents for your accommodations tonight?”
“Thank you,” said Sorak, “but you have already been gracious enough. It is a warm night, and we prefer to sleep under the stars, in the druid manner. We shall make our camp on the far side of the spring, where our early departure will not disturb the others.”
“As you wish,” said Ankhor. “And now, Torian, I really must tell you how our friend, here, saved me from losing my shirt to a devilishly clever cardsharp in a Tyrian gaming house known as the Crystal Spider…”
As they left Lord Ankhor’s tent, carrying the packs he had prepared for them, they circled round the pool of the oasis, heading toward the area where the kanks had been staked down. Ryana glanced at Sorak and said, “You were disingenuous with our host. The Guardian found him to be untrustworthy?”
“I found that Lord Ankhor can be trusted to look after his own interests,” the Guardian replied, coming to the fore to reply to her directly.
“And the Viscount Torian?”
“The Viscount Torian possesses a great deal of self-confidence,” the Guardian said. “He had anticipated the possibility of having his thoughts probed, although he had expected you to be the one to probe them. Telepathy is not one of your talents, of course, but Torian knew that villichi sometimes manifest telepathy as one of their psionic gifts. He did not know if yours was such a gift, but he was prepared for that eventuality.”
“You mean was able to Shield himself?” Ryana asked.
“Quite the contrary,” the Guardian replied. “He kept his thoughts unguarded to show his confidence and display his forthrightness. A most interesting young man. Few people feel so secure with themselves.”
“And what did you find when you looked into his thoughts?”
“Self-interest and a pride born of a sense of his own worth, as well as a strong sense of patriotism for his city. The Viscount Torian is an ambitious man, but he knows how to temper that ambition with a strong dose of practicality and realism. In Princess Korahna, he sees a valuable opportunity. That is why he chose to escort her personally on this journey.”
“What sort of opportunity?”
“The cities of Gulg and Nibenay have a long-standing rivalry, in part born of a conflict over the resources of the Barrier Mountains, and in part as a result of the antipathy of their respective rulers. If Torian were to marry Korahna, he would then have a princess of the Royal House of Nibenay to strengthen his standing not only in Gulg, but in Nibenay, as well. In the past, the Shadow King has not allowed any male children borne by his wives to live, to ensure that none of them could ever threaten his throne. His female children, when they reached the age Korahna is right now, were all taken into the ranks of his templars. Torian knows that since the Shadow King embarked upon his dragon metamorphosis, he has shown no interest in any of his wives. Korahna is the last child he will ever sire. Should Korahna bear a male child by Torian, he would be the only rightful heir to the throne of Nibenay.”
“I see,” Ryana said. “And what of the princess? Or do her desires not count in Torian’s plans?”
They bent down to fill their water bags at the oasis pool. “Torian is confident that he can win the princess by making her come to feel dependent on him. She is a plum that has fallen into his outstretched hand. She has never been away from home before, and now she has been exiled by her own mother. The nurse who raised her has been executed, and she has been separated from her friends in the Alliance. She has no one. Torian intends to take advantage of that fact to insinuate himself into her affections. Once he has done so, he plans to wed her and return with her to Gulg, where as his wife, she can bear him a son to claim succession to the throne of Nibenay.”
“And what of Korahna’s taking the vows of a preserver?” asked Ryana.
“He does not see that as an impediment,” the Guardian replied. “He suspects that it may be no more than a youthful indiscretion, but if not, it is something he can still turn to his advantage. A successor to the throne who is raised as a preserver would win ready support among the downtrodden people of the Shadow King. And such an heir would receive the backing of the Veiled Alliance, as well.”
Ryana nodded. “Yes, I can see that. The Viscount Torian is, indeed, ambitious. Clever, too.”
“And utterly unscrupulous,” the Guardian added. “Totian has no sympathies for either preservers or defilers. He would follow whichever path gave him the most advantage. Torian cares only about Torian.”
“Poor Korahna,” Ryana said. “Though she has been raised in pampered luxury, I still feel sorry for her. It seems not even princesses are immune to the machinations of ambitious men.”
As they made their way to a stand of palm trees where they would bed down for the night, Sorak came to the fore once again. “Korahna has no intention of allowing herself to become a pawn in Torian’s game. She is perceptive, and knows just what his
intentions are.”
“What will she do?”
“Escape,” said Sorak. “In fact, she plans to do it tonight.”
“But how?” Ryana asked. “Where would she go, in the middle of the desert?”
“With us,” said Sorak, “across the Stony Barrens.”
“What?” said Ryana with disbelief.
“Torian would never suspect a pampered princess of planning to escape into the desert,” Sorak said. “There are but two guards at the entrance to her tent. She plans to cut her way out the back and come to us tonight.”
“What makes her think that we shall take her with us?”
“We are fellow preservers,” Sorak said. “She cannot believe we would refuse, especially after we have seen how the situation stands. And even if we did refuse, she could accuse us of trying to steal her away.”
“Then we must leave at once,” Ryana said, gathering her things.
“No,” said Sorak. “We shall wait and take her with us.”
Ryana stared at him with astonishment. “Have you lost your mind? Ankhor’s mercenaries would be on our trail in an instant!”
“But they would seek us on the southern route, to Altaruk,” said Sorak. “After taking pains to tell us of the dangers we would face if we tried to cross the Stony Barrens, they would never think that we had gone that way, especially with the princess.”
“This is madness!” said Ryana. “That pampered palace flower could not survive a trek across the barrens. She would only slow us down, and doubtless burden us with her complaints every step of the way.”
“I thought you felt sorry for her,” Sorak said.
“Perhaps, but she would be far better off with Torian than with us on a trek across the barrens. What purpose would be served in taking her with us? Or is it that you have become taken with her beauty?”
“Jealousy does not become you, Ryana,” Sorak said. “If I were capable of being smitten by a woman, that woman would be you. But you know that could never be, however I may wish it. It is not Korahna’s beauty I desire, but her connections with the Veiled Alliance in Nibenay. She could make our task much easier.”
“So instead of being Torian’s pawn, she will be ours,” said Ryana.
“That, too, is unjust,” said Sorak. “She longs to return home, to her friends in the Alliance, the only friends she has ever truly known. They can protect her and provide her a home. We shall take her to them. In return we ask only for an introduction. That is more than a fair exchange, and no one shall be used.”
Ryana took a deep breath and expelled it in a heavy sigh. “I cannot argue with your logic,” she said. “But I do not relish the prospect of dragging a spoiled princess across the Stony Barrens. The journey shall be hazardous enough without her.”
“True,” Sorak agreed. “But quite aside from the fact that bringing her along will serve our purpose, you know as well as I that it is the proper thing to do. Spoiled or not, pampered or not, princess or not, she is a fellow preserver, and we cannot turn a deaf ear to her request for aid.”
“No, we cannot,” Ryana admitted sullenly. “She knows it, too. But what if she is caught trying to escape?”
“Then we can do nothing,” Sorak said. “It is up to her to make her bid for freedom. After that, she will have ample opportunity to test her commitment to her preserver vow. We shall wait until an hour before first light. If she has not joined us by then, we shall be on our way. Lie down and get some rest. The Watcher will remain on the alert.”
They did not have long to wait. The campfires burned low as the caravan bedded down for the night and silence descended upon the oasis. Shortly after midnight Ryana awoke to Sorak’s hand gently squeezing her arm. She came awake immediately, sitting up quickly, and saw him press a finger to his lips. A moment later, she heard the soft sound of light footsteps approaching. A shadowy, hunched figure in a dark cloak moved across the ground, searching the area.
“Korahna,” Sorak said, softly, as she drew near. She froze for a moment, then saw them and quickly made her way toward the stand of palm trees.
“You expected me?” she said, with surprise. Then an expression of sudden comprehension flickered across her hooded features. “Of course,” she said, looking at Ryana “You read my thoughts.”
Before Ryana could correct her, Sorak said, “We must not lose any rime. We shall depart at once. I will get the kank.” He moved off quickly into the darkness.
“I am profoundly grateful to you for your aid,” Korahna said. “And I can understand the reason for haste. Ankhor’s mercenaries will give chase when they learn that I am gone. We must gain time to outdistance their pursuit.”
Ryana said nothing. She merely looked at the princess, who had brought nothing with her in the way of provisions, not even a water bag. The jeweled dagger she wore at her waist was clearly more an ornament than a weapon. It was doubtful that she knew how to use it. She wore a light cloak and the same silky costume she had worn to dinner, and on her delicate feet she wore merely a pair of light sandals. Walking in the desert, those sandals would not last even a day. In the barrens, they would be shredded in no time at all. They did not need this added burden. Perhaps Sorak was right and the princess would be of help to them in contacting the Alliance once they reached Nibenay, but looking at her, Ryana had grave doubts that Korahna would last out the journey. She would be an enormous handicap to them.
Sorak returned shortly with the kank following behind. There was a soft thump as something landed in the dirt at Korahna’s feet. “Put these on,” said Sorak.
Korahna looked down and saw a pair of thick, hide moccasins lying at her feet.
“Those flimsy sandals will not last an hour in the desert,” Sorak said. “I took these off a guard watching the pack beasts. By the time he is discovered, bound and gagged, we shall be long gone.”
Korahna looked up at Sorak with disbelief. “You expect me to wear the footgear of a caravan guard?” she said with disgust. “Once his filthy feet have soiled them?”
“You will find it preferable to going barefoot in the barrens,” Sorak said.
“The barrens?” she said. “But… I thought… Surely, you do not still plan to go that way?”
“If we were to take the southern route, the mercenaries would run us down by midday, at the latest,” Sorak said. “This way, we stand a chance of eluding them.”
“But… no one has ever crossed the barrens and lived!” Korahna said.
“Then we shall be the first,” said Sorak. “Or you can remain behind with Torian, marry him, and bear his child so that he will have a claim on Nibenay. The choice is yours. But decide now. We are going.”
A look of panic came into Korahna’s eyes. “Wait! At least give me time enough to lace up these moccasins!” She crouched, removed her sandals, tied them to her gold link belt, and, wrinkling her nose, proceeded to lace up the moccasins Sorak had taken from the guard. Sorak had already started to move off with the kank. Ryana lingered a moment, looking at the princess, then followed him. Moments later, Korahna came running to catch up with them. They headed away from the oasis, due east.
“Will we not ride?” Korahna said.
“When we have gone some distance from the spring,” said Sorak. “In the meantime, keep to the loose, sandy ground. The wind will cover our tracks completely in an hour or so, and by then we should have reached the outskirts of the barrens. Avoid stepping on anything that grows, lest you break a twig that could give away our trail to a tracker.”
“These moccasins are too big,” Korahna said.
“Did you lace them tightly?” Sorak asked.
“Yes, but what if I get blisters on my heels?”
“Then you shall have to walk upon your toes,” said Sorak.
“How dare you take such a tone with me? You will address me as Your Highness!”
“Why? I am not your subject.”
“But I am a princess!”
“One without a kingdom, at the moment,” S
orak reminded her. “I am not Torian, and have no pressing need to curry favor with you. Remember, it is you who came to us to ask a boon. We have granted it because you took a vow as a preserver. To me, that is all that matters.”
Korahna turned to Ryana and asked, “What have I done that he must treat me so rudely?”
“You have become an unnecessary burden to us,” said Ryana. “And a source of annoyance, besides. If I were you, I would cease complaining and conserve my energy. You will need all you have for the journey still ahead of us.”
Korahna gazed at Ryana helplessly, surprised to find support lacking from another woman, and a fellow preserver, at that. She fell silent and walked along behind them, taking care to watch where she stepped, so that she would leave no broken plants to give away their trail, as Sorak had cautioned her.
It was not long before she began to fall behind—Sorak slowed his pace somewhat, but did not stop for her.
Ryana grew more and more impatient. Torian was no fool, and Ankhor’s mercenaries knew their trade. Doubtless, there were good trackers among them, and though they would undoubtedly assume that they had taken the southern trail to Altaruk, it probably would not be very long before they realized their error. However, even mercenaries would hesitate to follow them into the barrens, and the sooner they reached them, the safer they would be. Safe from pursuit, at least, Ryana reminded herself, for there would be little safety in the barrens.
After a little over an hour’s time, they had reached the outskirts of the barrens, where the ground gradually became more broken and irregular. They still had at least four hours or so before dawn. Ryana glanced back to see how well the princess was keeping up. Not very well. As Korahna hurried to catch up with them, she suddenly saw Ryana unlimbering her crossbow and quickly fitting a bolt. She stopped, and her eyes grew wide as she saw Ryana draw back the bow and raise it in one smooth motion. “What are you doing? No! Don’t!” The crossbow bolt flew through the air with a whizzing sound, passing inches from Korahna’s head as she cried out and, with a soft thwok, struck something just behind her. Korahna turned just in time to see a medium-sized drake falling over onto its side, the bolt from Ryana’s crossbow embedded deep in its reptilian brain. It was about six feet long and as thick in the body as a man. It spasmed on the rock-strewn ground, its tail thrashing behind it in death reflex—Korahna cried out and recoiled from the creature, throwing her hands up to her face.