The general turned to him. “When?”
The man shook his head. “Soon. The north, mostly,” the man hurried. “But some east and west.”
“It’s too soon,” Rit said. “It should take longer to organize an attack.”
“And now he thinks to attack? The historian might be right about this,” Endric sighed. “And happening sooner than I had expected. We must get the Magi to safety.” The words were spoken over their shoulders.
“We’re less than a day’s ride to the other camp,” a voice from behind Jakob answered.
He recognized the hard tone and turned to see the Raen, his scarred face solemn. The man had stepped into the tent and was already dressed and ready, his sword strapped to his side. There was an air of intensity around him that made Jakob take a slight step back.
“If we can meet the other camp, we’d have greater numbers,” the Raen continued.
“Agreed,” Endric said. “We may have to delay until they reach us. Send riders ahead as warning.”
“I have,” the Raen said.
Endric paused. “There is the other,” he said, speaking only to Pendin.
Jakob looked over to the man and saw conflicted emotions cross his face.
“I am yours to command,” the Raen said.
Endric gave him a long look, considering. “That is for me,” he started, then shook his head. “Was. You’ll be needed. The Magi must be protected. I think the bastard anticipated my dilemma.”
The Raen nodded, a flash of relief crossing his face, and turned to leave, taking all but Jakob and Rit with him. Shouted commands followed him.
As Endric turned to Rit, his eyes lingered on Jakob. “Yours is a different task. The Magi escort has been only part of our mission. There’s something else we escort north, something of power the Deshmahne must not reach. I was to have been the one to complete this mission. When this is over...”
Endric sighed. “If the High Priest was there, the Magi must have a full escort. I can’t abandon them to the Deshmahne.” He squeezed his eyes shut and then nodded. “You will take your raegan north,” he said to Rit. Grabbing a large map rolled up behind him, he opened it. “Here,” he said, pointing to a location far to the north. Around it was nothing but mountains.
Rit arched an eyebrow. “What is it we take with us?”
Endric turned again, carefully removing a small trunk before setting it on the table beside him. The trunk was plain looking. Painted a deep purple, it was almost black, and tight lettering surrounding the lid. There was something about it that seemed ancient, yet the wood was polished, and the ornately decorated clasp remained bright.
“You must take this and deliver it here,” He jabbed at the map. “This is what the Deshmahne are after.”
Rit frowned. “Sir?”
“This is what they were after in Chrysia. This is why the temple was destroyed. Inside is something valuable, something the Urmahne have protected for centuries. The gods only know how he learned of it.” Endric studied the map intently before sighing and straightening his back. “I have known you a long time, Rit.”
Rit nodded. “You have.”
“Know then that this may be the most important mission I’ve ever asked of you. If we fail... the Deshmahne may be free to roam the north.”
“This will stop them?”
“It is part of the key to stopping them.”
Rit turned to look over his shoulder, toward the tent opening. Jakob could sense the man’s thoughts, his concern for the Magi he had sworn to protect, the men he had sworn he would stand next to and fight, but Jakob knew the general left little room to do other than he asked. Rit turned back to face the general. “It will be as you command.”
An edge of tension seemed to leave the general with the words. “I know you will. I’ll return the Magi to Vasha and meet you there. Make haste, and the gods willing, I will find you soon.”
Rit carefully picked up the small trunk before turning to leave.
Jakob found Novan only moments later. The camp was hastily being broken, and men were readying for a quick departure. Novan paced where their tent would have been, his thin frame full of nervous energy.
“You were with them then?” he asked without preamble.
Jakob nodded. “I’d gone on the scouting mission.”
“And you recognized the High Priest?” Novan asked, scratching his head as he spoke.
Another nod. “I didn’t feel him as I did before, but even with the smoke surrounding him, I knew it was him.”
Novan stopped pacing. “Others didn’t mention the smoke.”
Jakob shouldn’t have been surprised Novan had spoken to the other men, getting a full accounting of what was seen. “Mention it or not, it was there, almost following him.”
“Are you sure it was the High Priest?”
“It was him.”
Novan looked at Jakob carefully before continuing. “You were with Endric for the reporting?”
Jakob nodded.
Novan had started pacing again, fiddling with the ring upon his middle finger as he looked out at the night in deep concentration. “Who continues north?”
The question surprised him. How had Novan known this already?
“Rit,” he answered. “He’s taking his raegan. The general intends to meet him once he returns the Magi to the capital.”
“Rit and a raegan?” Novan paused briefly, then started pacing again. “Not Endric?”
“As I said, he’s escorting the Magi.”
“Damn Deshmahne. This is what they planned? The timing is too suspect. How could they have known?” Novan’s irritation reminded Jakob of the anger Endric had when he had discovered the Deshmahne attack. “Endric is right, though. If there are even a few Deshmahne with those raiders, it will be difficult. And they might be able to divert the Deshmahne attention.” He scratched his chin. “Perhaps this will work.”
He looked at Jakob intently. “Endric was tasked with something of vital importance. He, like myself, is a member of an ancient society. Truly, it should be he who travels north.”
“The Conclave?” Jakob asked, remembering what he had overheard.
Novan stared at Jakob, twisting the ring on his finger as he nodded. “You are observant. The Conclave needs that trunk to travel north. The priests revealed it to the Magi when there was word of the Deshmahne threat coming from the south. The Conclave decided the Magi could not be trusted with its safety.”
Jakob watched Novan, who seemed to be considering the plan Endric had in mind. “Endric should be the one traveling with it, but perhaps he is wiser than I. For now, I’ll remain with him and continue with the Magi. It’s possible that we can draw them away. And there’s something I need to find in their city and keep from the Deshmahne, else I would not ask this of you.”
“Me?”
“I need someone I trust to go north. Since it can’t be me... I need to ask something of you. For this, you might even be better prepared.” He looked at Jakob a long moment, his eyes falling to the sword strapped to Jakob’s side. “Endric tells me that you’ve become quite skilled with the sword. What I ask will put you in danger, but is important to have a witness.
“This must be documented, Jakob. Do this well, and you will be well on your way to becoming a historian, but you’ll need every ounce of skill you’ve acquired. You and I have spoken of the attacks in the north. There are more than raiders in the north, more than Deshmahne to fear.” He locked eyes with Jakob. “Know that I don’t send you on this journey lightly, but you can serve in an important way, and this may actually require your special skills.”
“But I have no special skills,” Jakob stammered.
Novan smiled. “You’re more skilled than you know. I need you to go on this mission to the north. If they’re attacked, I’m of little use. I’ll follow the Magi to the capital and travel with Endric when he meets up with you.” He stopped, looking carefully at Jakob. “This is important, Jakob. You should know that much
depends on the success of this journey.”
What was he to say? Novan asked him to ride into possible danger so that he could observe and record. What would the historian say if he refused?
His life had changed dramatically in the last few weeks, and for the most part, he enjoyed it. Could he return to Chrysia and be happy? There was nothing there, nothing except a brother barely more than a body. He had no other family in Chrysia and no reason to return.
“I’ll go. I’m afraid,” he told Novan honestly, “but I’ll go.”
“I wish I could tell you there was nothing to fear but know there is danger along my path as well.” He paused, looking around the camp that was nearly a memory. “I promise you’ll know more when we meet up again in the north. For now, observe only. Don’t interfere. Travel swiftly, travel safely, and keep your eyes open. But do everything you must to see that trunk to Avaneam.”
“I will,” Jakob said.
“And Jakob,” Novan continued. “Stay alive.”
It was a frightening warning, and with that, he left, uncertain if he would see Novan again.
Roelle caught Jakob as he was heading to find Rit. Tents were disassembled, and the line of horses was getting arranged. All around him, everyone prepared to depart. The Mage had not changed back into her robes, remaining in the pants and shirt she’d scouted in. She looked more the part of soldier than Mage.
“You’re leaving,” Roelle said.
“Novan asked me to go north with Rit to observe.”
The Mage frowned. “Why north?”
“I... I don’t really know.”
Roelle seemed pensive. “There’s something going on in the north, but I haven’t learned what it is. I wish Haerlin had shared more with me. I fear there’s more danger along your path than mine.”
“Novan fears the same,” Jakob said.
“Yet he sends you instead of himself? What does he seek?” she wondered, more to herself. “It’s a shame we didn’t have a chance to know each other better. I wish you the safety of the gods, Jakob. May you have their protection. And may we meet again.”
There was little the gods would do to protect him. He’d lost their favor years ago, had seen their displeasure as they took first his mother then his brother and father from him. Still, he nodded. He wouldn’t argue with a Mage.
“May you have their protection, as well, Roelle,” he replied.
As they parted ways, Jakob knew a moment of sadness. It wasn’t the idea of not seeing her again, though she was beautiful. He’d never seen a woman quite so stunning. Yet… it wasn’t that. She was a Mage, a hand of the gods. In spite of that, Roelle had been becoming a friend. He would miss his friend.
Chapter Fourteen
“Endric told me that you would come.” Rit spoke quickly, hurriedly checking his horse and running along the line of horses and speaking briefly to each man.
“I’ll try not to be a hindrance,” Jakob said.
“I’ve seen you with a sword. You’ll be no hindrance.”
“I was told to only observe,” Jakob answered.
Rit nodded, and his smile twisted his crooked face. “I can’t promise. Might be you’re needed for more.”
He said nothing more and walked down the line of the horses, finishing with the last man. Jakob looked around at the nearly dozen men who rode with him, recognizing the men of Rit’s raegan, and realized others would come as well. He saw the northman and the other man from earlier in the evening. Each wore a serious look on his face and something more. Irritation? Anger?
Starting off, Rit spurred them forward at a quick clip, and they left the remnants of the camp behind. Jakob hazarded a glance back and saw the rest of the camp moving quickly to the west. Roelle rode to the rear before looking over to him and raising a slow wave, a sad smile on her face. Though he tried, he didn’t see Braden and hoped his friend would be safe.
The night was not dark; the light of the moon hovered overhead, and they rode swiftly, the cold air biting through his cloak. They hadn’t ridden long before Jakob felt the crawling sensation creep back into his mind. He looked around, the strange irritation making him jumpy, and thought he saw catlike eyes in the distance. When he blinked, they were gone.
“The night will do that,” a voice next to him said.
Jakob looked over and saw Tian. “There are times I feel we’re being watched.”
Tian nodded. “Might be we are.”
Jakob looked around again, wondering if Tian had seen something, but the Denraen man just grunted. Jakob looked over and saw the man staring up. “You think the gods are watching us?” he asked as realization came to him.
Tian shrugged. “I think they do. Them, or their servants.” He was silent for long moments. “Or maybe it’s just a wolf.”
A man behind them laughed. Jakob turned and saw the northman. He was still grinning.
“His faith is like that of a priest,” he said seriously, and then laughed again.
Jakob smiled before turning back around. They were moving too quickly to lose his focus. If he fell from the saddle, he wouldn’t get up easily. As they rode, a faint sound drifted toward them from the way they had come. Jakob looked back, wondering what it was that he heard.
“The battle has begun,” Tian said quietly.
Jakob looked over to the Denraen. “Already? Is that what I hear?”
Tian nodded slowly. There was a hint of regret in the movement. Jakob wondered what it took for these men to leave their friends behind, even ordered as they were. He knew it wasn’t fear driving these men forward. Could he have stayed behind and fought? Was it better that he’d been sent north?
At least it kept him from battle, but what more might he face? What more existed in the north?
The sounds of the battle behind them grew fainter and fainter until they were merely imagined. Jakob pushed all thoughts from his head, including the strange feeling, and tried to keep his focus on the ride. He was tired; he’d not slept tonight, and dawn was not far off. The scouting mission had taken much out of him, and it wasn’t until now that he was suffering the consequences. What he’d seen had kept him awake until now, but suddenly, he was finding it difficult to stay alert in the saddle.
Jakob shook his head, trying to maintain awareness. None of the Denraen seemed to struggle, but none said anything, either. All were silent; the only sound that of steady plodding of their horses over the ground. Jakob wondered if he would even hear anything if they were attacked.
At the thought, the sound of hooves raced toward them. There was a quick whistle followed by one in response, and Rit called a halt. A Denraen man rode up, his horse heaving with the effort.
It was a scout.
His clothing was tattered, his once-crisp uniform now frayed and bloodstained. Slowing, he sat high in his saddle, his back straight.
“Report,” Rit ordered.
“The attack. Not far from camp, we were attacked. Large group, we were outnumbered. Most dead. Mathin’s men from the south arrived. Turned the tide. Endric taking remaining men and Magi north fast,” he panted.
Two words struck in Jakob’s ears. Most dead. Were Novan or Braden among those lost? At least it sounded like the Magi were safe. It was small solace. “How many Deshmahne?”
The scout turned a skeptical eye to him before shaking his head. “Too many,” he answered. “It was why our casualties were so high.”
“How many survived?” Rit asked.
“Fifteen, maybe twenty men.”
“Fifteen men of our squad left?” Rit asked incredulously.
The scout shook his head. “That’s all told, includes Mathin’s men from the south.”
“They were nearly eighty!” Rit said.
The scout frowned. “If I hadn’t seen it myself, I wouldn’t believe. The raiders sent men near as good as the general at us. They tore through our lines. Endric took out a handful of them but will have another scar.”
The men grunted approval. The Denraen didn’t dis
approve of scars.
“The young Mage even joined. Saved the historian’s life as he was about to be struck down. She moves about as fast as the general.”
Roelle joined the battle. How would that sit with Haerlin? How did that fit with the Magi’s unwillingness to harm another person? From what Jakob had seen, Roelle had a different view of what it meant to be a Mage.
“What of us?” someone asked.
Jakob turned to see who had said it but couldn’t be sure.
Rit did the same. “We continue as ordered.”
The scout nodded. “That’s why I’m here. General wanted you to know what happened but to ride on as planned.”
“Can they handle another attack?” It was the northman who asked. These men would not disobey their orders, but they had real concern for their men, for their general. He shared it.
“I don’t know. I’m to rejoin them. I was to check your safety and return. With the gods,” the man finished.
“With the gods,” Rit said.
The scout turned his horse and rode off, quickly disappearing.
Rit wasted little time. He turned them north again, and they rode hard. Jakob quickly lost track of time, and his legs and thighs began to throb. Rit rode them at a faster pace than they had ridden the previous week. Gradually, night faded and the hint of daylight touched the horizon.
“How will we find this place?” he overheard Tian ask Rit as they rode.
Rit took long moments to answer. “It lies along the Elasiin path, near Siirvil’s Peak.”
Tian sucked in his breath. “But the reports.”
Rit nodded. “I know the reports as well as you.” He looked over to the Denraen with a grim look on his face. “We need speed. It is the only way.”
Tian said nothing. “What do you think is there?”
“Endric didn’t say. Said he’d rejoin us before we reached the destination.”
“Not that,” Tian replied.
Jakob did not think Rit would answer, but finally, he did. “The reports are brutal. Towns empty, families slaughtered. A rotting stench overtop of everything.” He heaved a heavy sigh. “Each report the same. That is not raiders.”
The Threat of Madness (The Lost Prophecy Book 1) Page 16