Barrenlands (The Changespell Saga)

by Doranna Durgin

  "Everything looks different. Not that I could tell you just how... just…something is missing. But Hells, this place makes everything look a little brown, you and me included."

  "The less time we spend in here, the better," Ehren said by way of agreement, and took up a gentle trot again.

  They'd gone another two hours before Ehren dared to give them any kind of extensive break, but the horses were ready for it and so was his leg. Laine's face, he thought, still showed the tension of the Barrenlands pressing in on him. His eyes were distracted, and... elsewhere. "You doing all right?"

  "Fine," Laine said, not taking any time to think about it. After another moment, he finally noticed Ehren's close scrutiny. "No, really. I'm not comfortable, but I'm all right. There's a difference. Besides, I was just thinking…" He looked around the featureless terrain, varied only slightly by barely rolling land. Ochre sky met brown earth so subtly it was hard to tell where one stopped and the other began. "Coming back through here alone won't be an easy thing."

  "You can go around."

  Laine made a face. "I've seen enough of that particular Trade Road." He considered Ehren a moment. "You've got a stone, too, right from Sherran's hand. And it looked to me like you'd be more than welcome back. Just how late did you two stay up together the other night?"

  Ehren gave him a look meant to quell all such questions. "Late enough to make sure you children were sleeping safely."

  "Ouch," Laine said, physically ducking both Ehren's words and his glare, but sneaking a grin in there as well. "Well, at least you discovered Therand had something worth your attention. Though I saw you looking pretty closely at the horses, too."

  Ehren cantered away from him, and pretended he didn't hear Laine's laughter following.

  ~~~~~

  Their humor faded quickly beneath the oppressive Barrenlands. By the time they saw Solvany on the horizon, Laine looked grim and worn, a man enduring what he had to.

  Not as aggressively green as Therand, Solvany nonetheless appeared as a jewel against the dull, dead swath of land around them; its trees and undergrowth came up right against the sterile dirt and stopped short. Ehren and Laine crossed the line and eased to a halt, breathing in the odor of the foliage they'd just crushed, adjusting to the sounds of bird song and rustling tree branches and the brightness of the cloudy day.

  "Much better," Laine said after a long moment and a huge sigh of relief. "I thought I understood about the Barrenlands, before— but now I know why that border has worked so well all these years."

  "Even if you're protected, it's no easy obstacle." Ehren patted Shaffron's shoulder, pleased at the glint of flame that reclaimed its proper place in that bright chestnut coat, and dismounted. He stripped Shaffron's bridle off, and the horse quickly took advantage of the chance to wipe his sweat-itchy head against Ehren's shoulder, knocking him off balance.

  "Quit," Ehren said sharply. "Your head is too bony for that." He slipped the halter on and left the lead rope trailing as he loosened the girth a notch; Ricasso already browsed on the leaves within his reach. By the time Laine finished haltering his own horse, Ehren stared pensively back into the Barrenlands.

  "What?" asked Laine, in a voice that said he wasn't really sure he wanted to know.

  "She said we'd be able to go back." Ehren still held Shaffron's bridle, and he hefted it thoughtfully.

  Laine said pointedly, "If we wanted to."

  "It'd be nice to know." Ehren walked up to the very edge of the green and brown border. Laine trailed him, his expression wary— and grown even more so when Ehren held out the bridle reins. "Take the ends. You can haul me out if I look stupefied."

  Laine muttered something under his breath but accepted the reins, holding them tightly as Ehren turned back to the Barrenlands and walked right in.

  It took a moment to realize he was holding his breath— and by then it was obvious he hadn't lost his ability to perceive the world. He didn't linger. "I take it I never looked quite stupefied enough."

  Laine handed the reins back and cracked an unconvincing grin. "It was close."

  Ehren merely harrumphed at him. He tied the bridle atop Shaffron's saddlebags and scouted briefly ahead, looking for any sign of a trail.

  "What now?" Laine said, when Ehren returned, rubbing the leg that hadn't quite been up to all those hours of riding.

  "Now give the horses a break. It's too close to nightfall to go far, but we'll ride another mile or so and hunt up some water. Starting tomorrow, we'll ride to Kurtane as fast as I can get us there." Ehren lowered himself to the ground and kneaded his upper thigh. After a moment, he eased back on the ground and stared up at the wispy layer of thin clouds. Mares' tails. That means rain. He hoped they found a good road before then. It could be days, depending on exactly where they'd emerged.

  Meanwhile, he closed his eyes, intent on taking rest when he could get it...

  Shaffron's snort sounded far away. Ehren's eyes snapped open and he knew instantly he'd been asleep. A short distance away, Laine stretched noisily.

  "What's up?" Laine's voice was groggy still, but as Shaffron snorted again— and then Ricasso called out— Ehren found himself completely alert.

  "Get up. Get your sword out and mount up. If we get into trouble, drop your mule. You can pick him up later."

  "What are you talking about?" Laine asked, though Ehren heard him rising as he followed his own advice and hunted down his horses.

  "Nothing, if we're lucky." With his sword against his leg to avoid catching the brush, Ehren followed the trail the boys had left. "Don't follow too close."

  He could practically feel Laine's disgruntlement— but he did as Ehren said, and that was all that mattered.

  Ehren found a game trail— and on it, two sets of shod hooves. He followed them at easy speed, and soon enough came upon Ricasso— and then, soon after, Shaffron. The edgy chestnut kept his ears riveted on the trail ahead, and Ehren bridled him with no-nonsense efficiency, tightening the girth. Laine was just in sight when he mounted up, and he waited until they were close enough to speak quietly. "Something's ahead— horse or mule, to judge by the boys' interest."

  "And man, no doubt," Laine concluded. "Well, that doesn't mean it's a problem. There's no way anyone could know where we are. We don't even know where we are. "

  Ehren gave him a grin, one that bordered on the predatory. "The way things have gone for us, Laine, we'll assume it's a problem."

  "When you put it that way…" Laine said ruefully. "But are we just…waiting?"

  Unruffled, Ehren said, "Let them come to us. At least until I decide otherwise."

  Thick, small trees studded the area around the narrow path; although they heard the sounds of several horses approaching, the newcomers came fairly close before they were clearly visible.

  King's Guards. Two of them. And although Ehren's first instinct was to relax, his second was not to. "Hold there," he called, and they eased to a stop in their own time.

  "That's him, all right," one of the Guards said, and though his face looked vaguely familiar, Ehren couldn't put a name to it. The other man, he knew not at all.

  "I'm surprised to see you here," Ehren said, not at all welcoming, "but it seems you expected me."

  "You, if not him," the man replied with a nod. "You're to come with us."

  Laine crowded Ehren from behind. "Is something wrong?"

  "Back off," Ehren said between his teeth, aiming the words over his shoulder without taking his eyes from the men.

  "What?" Laine at least had the discretion to keep his own voice low. "They're Guards, aren't they? What's wrong?"

  Ehren backed Shaffron a few measured steps, and Ricasso followed suit behind him. When Laine caught sight of the big sturdy rump heading his way, he turned Nimble right around and circled— yanking the unhappy mule behind him and putting some distance between them. "Oh," Laine muttered loudly. "I get the idea now, thank you."

  Ehren ignored him. "We're on our own business," he told the Guards.
"We'll make our own way."

  "We've got orders," the man said, and nodded back at his partner. "You'll come with us back to Kurtane."

  "It's a lot of trouble to ensure I get where I already intend to go," Ehren said. "And unless you can show me signed orders, I won't be needing your company." He kept his voice flat and final, and shifted his grip on his sword. Shaffron felt the change in Ehren's seat, knew the tension in the air…already he drew under himself, ready to respond to the slightest shift of Ehren's weight.

  The man offered a particularly forced grin. "Never thought I'd see the day when a Guard would distrust his own like this."

  "I don't know you," Ehren said. "I've seen you, but not as a Guard. And I've never seen your friend. If you're King's Guards, they're cycling you through too damned fast." He paused, and added, "Which probably means you're no damned good."

  "Ehren!" Laine gulped out the word, aghast.

  But Ehren's attention riveted on the men— both of whom had given up their pretense of congeniality with one quick exchanged glance. They kicked their horses hard, eliciting annoyed grunts as they charged, crowding each other on the narrow trail.

  Ehren dropped Ricasso's lead; Shaffron broke into a gallop from standstill, only a few strides from collision point. Ehren closed the reins and deepened his seat and the chestnut surged forward and up, leaping high, his sword flashing to take the first man down. Branches raked Ehren's side, momentarily blinding him; the noise of whipping foliage, pounding hooves, and grunting horses made up his world until Shaffron broke into the clear.

  Blinking watering eyes, Ehren pivoted Shaffron on his hindquarters to face the men. One man hung over his horse's neck, no longer a threat; the other hesitated just beyond Ricasso, his horse dancing— and then chose to turn on Laine.

  "The Barrenlands!" Ehren bellowed over the distance between them. Laine instantly dropped the mule's lead and whirled his handy little horse around, disappearing into the woods with the Guard in pursuit.

  Ehren ignored the pain shooting through his limb-whipped leg and sent Shaffron after them, keeping him to a high-stepping trot once they turned off the path, wary of ambush— if the Guard was smarter than he looked, he'd stop his pursuit, pull off to the side, and attack as Ehren rode by.

  But Ehren met no one coming through the trees, and when the Barrenlands were within sight, he slowed Shaffron to dance a high-stepping trot in place. Through the brush, he saw Laine cantering a wide circle within the Barrenlands— one that would bring him back to his point of entry. He seemed to be missing one stirrup entirely, but other than that looked unaffected by his mad dash through the woods. The guard who'd pursued him hesitated at the border, his horse fighting the bit, clearly weighing the idea of following. If Laine could do it...

  Ehren grinned. A shift of his seat, and Shaffron opened up into a full gallop. He reached the Guard just as the man realized he was coming, and Shaffron body checked the other horse squarely in the shoulder, sending him staggering into the Barrenlands.

  The man clutched his horse's mane and missed; he tumbled to the ground, screaming— or, at least, his mouth was open and his face contorted, although Ehren heard nothing from within the ochre lands. The man stopped screaming only when he started retching; by then Laine had circled around to dismount. He dropped his reins to the ground and kicked aside the man's sword, then stood looking at the Guard, at a momentary loss. Finally he shrugged and reached down to grab the man's booted ankles, dragging him toward the border.

  Ehren dismounted and met him at the border, taking an ankle for his own. The man's screams broke the air as his head crossed the border, then abruptly cut off. "Guides have mercy," he babbled repetitively, until Ehren grew tired of it and rested his sword tip firmly on the man's chest. Then the babbling cut off, too, replaced by gasping, which Ehren could hardly fault him for.

  "I've got him." Ehren nodded at the Barrenlands. "Get your horse. See if you can get his, too."

  It wasn't much of a task; the Guard's horse cantered aimlessly in the same circle Laine had taken, and seemed more than pleased to find a human that might give it guidance. While he was gone, Ehren sent a sharp whistle into the air. With any luck, the mule would follow Ricasso, and they wouldn't lose any of their supplies.

  When Laine emerged from the Barrenlands and Ehren heard Ricasso making his way back to them, he turned his full attention back to their captive. "Suppose you tell me what this is all about."

  "No," the man said, but it came out as a moan, and without any defiance at all. He lay on his back on the ground, looking wrung out. Unresisting.

  "No?" Ehren said, leaning on the sword, taking the weight from his leg.

  "Guides, Ehren, not another one," Laine said, sounding a little desperate. When Ehren glanced at him, he looked immediately abashed. "I mean..."

  "Never mind." Ehren cut him off sharply, his thoughts, as Laine's, going back to that night at the T'ieranguard inn and the man who had died under questioning. "Is it, Laine? Is it another one?"

  Laine blinked, and then caught on. He looked down at the man again, his face suddenly gone distracted; when he winced, it was all the answer Ehren needed. "Don't say anything," he ordered the Guard, taking all his weight off the sword, which had only cut through the first layer of the man's stained brigandine.

  Ehren stared pensively at the man a moment. He'd not be part of that gruesome death again, not if he could help it. But he needed to know what he was walking into

  The ochre-smeared brown of Barrenlands, just feet away, caught his eye. No man's magic worked in there, not even personal things that were otherwise part of him. Nothing but the dispensation spell.

  "What do you suppose would happen if we were to go back in there," he nodded at the border, "with this one between us? Would our protection extend to him?"

  Laine looked startled. "I don't have any idea. It didn't work when we dragged him out. Maybe flesh to flesh..."

  Ehren looked again at the Barrenlands, and gave a decisive nod. "Let's find out. Give me a hand." Without removing his sword, he reached down and caught his knife in a fold of the man's sleeve, slicing it open. He closed his hand around the spot and straightened. After a moment's hesitation, Laine did the same at the other side; it was only when they'd dragged him a step that the man came out of his dazed state and realized what was going on.

  With a howl, he twisted in their grip, fighting to stay out of the Barrenlands. He cursed and gibbered and even tried to bite, but they were only steps away and the Barrenlands immediately closed around them.

  As soon as he realized they'd crossed over, he froze, his face screwed up in anticipation of the utter disorientation. Ehren and Laine exchanged a glance and gently lowered him to the ground, kneeling so they could maintain contact. After a moment, one of the man's eyes opened slightly, then closed just as quickly.

  "You're all right," Ehren told him. "And you'll stay all right, as long as we're holding on to you. So I wouldn't try to get away if I were you."

  "No," the man said, his eyes still closed. "I'm not gonna move— just don't— don't let go!"

  "I don't have any plans to," Ehren said. "Unless, of course, you don't feel like talking to us."

  The man struggled with this a moment, and then the words burst out in a rush. "I can't! Don't let go!"

  "Relax," Ehren told him. "You're under some kind of spell, am I right? Something that will kill you if you talk about your orders?"

  This time the man opened his eyes, and they held surprise. "Yes, and it's no bluff. I know of one man who already died."

  "So do we." Ehren shifted his weight so he could straighten his sore leg, causing the man to stiffen in alarm. "Stop it. I said I wouldn't let go yet, and I won't. But I need you to talk to me."

  "We think you're safe in here," Laine added. "Nothing works in this place, no magic but the dispensation spell."

  "You think?" the man asked incredulously.

  Ehren's grip tightened on his arm. "You were the one who came after me—
and you're the one who lost the fight. We're doing our best to protect you, but make no mistake... I will walk away and leave you here if you don't start talking to me, and I won't wait much longer."

  Their captive paled a few shades lighter, his skin a sickening yellow in the reflective light. Laine didn't look all that much better as he watched Ehren, question in his eyes. Would you really?

  Yes. Ehren met that question evenly, and turned back to the erstwhile Guard. "I want to know who sent you, how you found us, and exactly what you were supposed to do with us."

  The man closed his eyes, swallowed with effort, and said carefully, "It's you we were looking for." He paused, and took a deep breath, trembling beneath Ehren's grip. And nothing happened. Ehren gave him the time, and after a moment, the man looked up again. "It... it was the ring," he said tentatively, and paused again. The next time he spoke, his voice was stronger. "We have a ring that's been keyed to yours. Adlin has it... is he dead?"

  "He wasn't when I left him," Ehren said. "Keep talking and you might have a chance to find out."

  "We... we've been at the border for more than a week. He knew you were in Therand, and where— he must have guessed you'd try to go through the Barrenlands. We were supposed to bring you in, in disgrace... if you lived through the taking."

  "He?" Ehren stabbed the word at their captive like a knife point, and the man winced as though it had struck home.

  Hesitantly, in a voice barely loud enough to call a whisper, he said, "Varien."

  Ehren nodded. Varien. Of course, Varien. Not that he hadn't suspected it, believed it…in his heart, known it. The man had warned him what would happen if he failed this assignment and returned to Kurtane a liability.

  He looked down at the man and his renewed trembling. "You're still alive."

  "I... I don't know how long it would take..."

  "We do," Ehren assured him flatly. "And it's not going to happen. Are you truly a Guard?"

  "Adlin is... was. He went through half the training and was mustered out for his temper. Varien got in touch with him, offered him an assignment, and then a sweeter deal if he could round up some others to help... that's where I came in. I think... he didn't say so, but I'm almost certain... he already had people placed in Therand."