Amaskan's Blood

by Raven Oak

  When Adelei stood, her chair fell and landed with a loud crack on the floor behind her. “How do you know that name?"” she whispered, fruit forgotten.

  “Augh, we don’t have time to get into this. We’ve delayed too long already.” Ida dropped several bags at Adelei’s feet. “Grab your things—we need ta go.”

  “We will make time. Now.” The words were a command, sharp as the knives Adelei carried.

  “Not now. Not here.”

  Adelei hesitated. Ida knew too many things she shouldn’t. She was more than she let on. A danger to the Order. If Master Bredych had been here, he’d have killed Ida. Adelei retrieved her bags but kept her gaze on the woman in front of her. If Adelei returned to the Order, she’d be an outcast. Ostracized for dishonoring them and worse, labeled an oathbreaker. She might have been stricken from the records, but at least she wasn’t marring them.

  As she closed the door behind her, she paused a moment. “I will go with you, Sepier Warhammer, because this job has been given to me, but you will explain yourself once we reach the privacy of the road. If I feel you’ve been dishonest with me or have endangered my mission, you’ll find out how dangerous the Amaskans are, as I will kill you where you stand without hesitation or mercy. For the good of the people.”

  The warrior smiled then, a half-smile that came with knowledge and a sense of power. “I would expect nothing less of a… former Amaskan.”

  Ida mounted her horse: a large, dappled grey and black beast that stood a full two hands taller than Midnight. No way she could get a horse of that breed, much less handle mine, without access to the Order. She wears no tattoo that I can see, but somehow she’s had Amaskan training.

  While Sadai’s main export was horses, the kingdom’s specialty was trained war horses. Expensive and smart, the beasts were well-built for combat and easily trainable. Mounts were taught simple commands like enemy and guard, making them invaluable to anyone in the battlefield. I’d never be able to afford one—lucky for me that Midnight was a gift from King Adir. Even on a captain’s pay, she’d not be able to afford such a mount. Just how close is she to this King Leon? A relative perhaps?

  More questions than answers set a worry knot between Adelei’s shoulders, adding to the throb at the base of her skull where her head wound lay. No pack beasts, just the two horses stood outside the building. Forest lay between here and Alesta, capital city of Alexander. Plenty of small towns between, and thankfully, no desert.

  Ida spun her horse around to face Adelei as she tied her saddlebags in place. “I’ll answer, but only because His Majesty’s ordered me to do so. Ya don’t intimidate me, and ya aren’t the first Amaskan I’ve encountered.” And with those words, Ida’s grey mare trotted off toward the eastern road and left Adelei hustling to catch up.

  And you’re not the first pompous captain I’ve dealt with either. I’ve coped with women like you before—known a few in the Order in fact. It wouldn’t surprise me if you’ve tried to gain membership to the Order and failed out or quit. I wonder which it is?

  Adelei urged Midnight into a canter. She was in no particular hurry to catch up to the woman. She reminded Adelei of Min—what a bully she was. Adelei smiled at the memory, her mind falling into it with the steady lull of hoof falls.

  One brutal day found Adelei skipping her way out of the stables after a riding lesson, her mind still buzzing with the joy of it. She’d been allowed to jump her horse in the Field. Not the training course, but the honest-to-Gods challenge jumps.

  Snow on the ground left parts of the path slick, so she’d chosen her jumps carefully. Given the rare compliment by her teacher, the words rang in her ears as she skipped toward the bridge and tossed up snow with a booted toe. It wasn’t until she’d crossed the wooden planks over the river that the thump hit her square in the back.

  She shed her winter cloak without much rush. A gift from her adopted father, the rare-white cloak was lined with fluffed rabbit fur. Snow would do little to harm it, assuming that’s what smacked her between the shoulder blades.

  When she flipped the cloak around, the remains of a snowball stuck to the deer hide. Adelei brushed the snow away. Below the cold snow lay a scrap of parchment, balled up and soaked in ink. The moisture of the snow sent the ink cascading across the hide, marring the beautiful white cloak, and Adelei scanned the snowy field for the perpetrator.

  Min. The girl rested comfortably on a tree branch a few feet away, her long legs dangling down from the branch. Her laughter rang across the snow. Young enough for tears to win out, Adelei trod over to the tree and brushed at the tears that dampened her cheeks.

  “White. Yet another reminder that you aren’t Amaskan and never will be. No matter who your daddy is,” Min called out.

  He said to work it out on my own, and so I will. She balled up her fingers into fists. Forget the words.

  When she reached the trunk of the tree, Min’s long legs hung down just low enough for Adelei to reach. But only if she jumped. Adelei wrapped her arms around Min’s legs and went limp. The seventeen-year-old came tumbling down to land butt-first in the snow.

  She didn’t give Min time to react. Adelei flew at the trainee, fists waving and feet flying. Most never found their target, but a few found purchase on Min—one or two across her beaky nose.

  One heel to the face was all it took for Adelei to realize her mistake. Min retaliated, her heel knocking Adelei in the jaw. While she sprawled in the snow, Min punched her in the nose. Pain multiplied her tears, and blood cut through the snow. By the time the pain subsided and the blood stopped, Min was long gone and Adelei’s cloak with her.

  The sun dipped well below the horizon when Adelei dragged herself home. Head down and shoulders slumped, she made an arrow-line straight for the wash room. Her nose throbbed, and her head spun. She touched a wet rag to her nostril and sucked in air through clenched teeth. The swelling sent stars before her vision, and the room swam.

  The front door’s bell-chimes caught her off guard, and she dropped the rag into the water basin. His shadow crossed the wall first, and then his elegant frame filled the doorway.

  “Where were you? Your lesson ended hours ago—” He stopped to take in the bloody rags and shirt, then he plucked a clean cloth from the shelf. Without speaking, he nursed her wounds with gentle hands. His silence scared Adelei more than Min, and finally, she opened her mouth to accuse her attacker.

  Master Bredych pressed a finger to her lips. “Your nose is not broken. You’re lucky this time. I would not advise that you attack an Amaskan again—be it one in training or not. You may not live to regret it.”

  “But she’s a trainee and—” The cry sounded childish even to her ears, and she winced.

  “A trainee who’s had years of practice and learning that you have not. You’d best remember that the next time you see Trainee Min.”

  “She took my cloak.” Adelei couldn’t stop the tears this time.

  Her father waited for her to cry herself out, his embrace aware of her throbbing nose. Once her tears transitioned into the occasional hiccup, he released her. He captured her attention with all the seriousness and practice of one of her teachers, and she noticed the difference immediately. “Trainee Min has returned your cloak—” His upright hand silenced her before she could take more than a swift intake of air. “But it will not be returned to you until you are more deserving of such a gift. She’s apologized for her poor conduct and is serving her own punishment for her actions. Dealing with a problem does not always mean that one should resort to violence, a fact that you should know by now. You have seen us train, yes? What is the number one lesson we teach?”

  “Violence is only one way to a resolution. Death is a permanent end, only needed for a permanent cause,” she whispered, eyes downcast. “I’m sorry, Father.”

  “I would not have wished this so soon, but it seems you have adopted more of my traits than I thought possible, including a disregard for the rules and a certain stubbornness. My intention has a
lways been for you to learn as much as you could about the world and to choose your own path, but it seems you are destined to learn… other ways as well. Tomorrow, if you wish, you may petition for entrance into the Academy as a trainee.”

  For a moment, she forgot to breathe. “B-but I’m ten. Will they even allow it?”

  “The earlier one learns, the better. Not everyone has an opportunity such as this. Are you willing?”

  “Yes.”

  Her father grinned. “Remember though,” he cautioned, “you won’t learn everything overnight. You still have many, many years of training and study to do before taking up the arts of a Journeyman or even thinking of petitioning for full Guild membership.”

  Master Bredych ruffled her hair with his hand, familiar lines decorating the corner of his mouth. “Besides, you could use some discipline. Someone’s got to teach you that fighting is more than random fists and feet.”

  While both horrible and life changing, the event wasn’t one Adelei would forget. As time passed and wisdom engrained itself into her mind, she and Min became good friends and remained so until the woman’s death two years prior. Justice had been swift and carried out by Adelei herself. Taking out the traitor who killed her friend exposed a weakness in the Order itself. Though the weakness was quickly covered up. No need for their enemies to find out.

  This task and the knowledge that had come with it had earned Adelei’s promotion from Journeyman to full member of the Order. Captain Warhammer was made from the same cloth. Patience would help work this out, as it had with Min.

  The reminder of home settled like a calm across Adelei’s shoulders, and it shifted the unease she’d felt since crossing the border into the background. Several hours travel passed, and Ida allowed her to trail behind at a steady distance until Adelei urged her horse forward. Midnight matched Ida’s mare in pacing until they were nose to nose.

  The landscape, thick with trees now, held privacy for them and left a fragrance of life through the woods. Once or twice the wind kicked up, and dark and light greens rustled and whispered around them.

  After the desert’s heat, Adelei welcomed the shady canopy’s drop in temperature. “This is nice.” Adelei tried engaging the warrior in small talk as their horses crossed a trickle of a stream. “In most of Sadai, there are two seasons: hot and less hot. Some places along the coast are lucky enough to see all four seasons, but it depends upon which mountainside one lives.”

  “I remember.” Adelei tilted her head and gave the warrior a knowing look. Ida said, “I’ve visited the capital several times. Been a long time now, but I remember the heat. And the beauty. We should come up on the town of Tarmsworth in a few hours. How’s the head?”

  The muted ache in her head had faded, and Adelei nodded. “I’ve given some thought to our earlier conversation. We both have our orders, which may differ or even conflict.” Adelei pulled the stopper from her water bag and took a long swallow. Ida’s mare slowed to keep them even paced. “If I’m to do my job and protect the Princess, I must know the entire truth, even if it’s something you don’t wish to discuss. If anything is kept from me, no matter how seemingly insignificant, it may cost your princess her life.” And me, mine.

  Ida’s silence was a good sign that she was thinking, and Adelei allowed her the quiet. Probably weighing her options against the orders she’s been given. I know that’s what I’d be doing about now.

  When the warrior spoke, her voice was calmer than Adelei expected. “I told ya yesterday that news spread quickly about the second princess’s death. King Leon only wished to hide his family away, to protect them. I would know what ya think of this.”

  “His Majesty had the right idea in trying to hide his family, a better move, I think, than what did happen. Still, he should have sent his family away sooner or not at all. Waiting until the city was under attack was foolhardy.”

  “While it was probable that Alesta would be attacked, His Majesty couldn’t have known the city would come so close to fallin’ into enemy hands. It never has before. He was hopeful that a peaceful resolution would make the issue moot.”

  “Then he was a fool.”

  The mare halted, and Ida faced Adelei. “Why? Because he wished peace? Or because he believed peace possible? Or maybe ya think because he loved his family and didn’t want to send them away?”

  “All of it but mostly the latter. Families are a liability one cannot afford in battle. When war is on your doorstep, you can’t hope the enemy won’t notice your family tucked away in the bower. Peace means running in the opposite direction.”

  Sensing Ida’s frustration, Adelei held a hand up to stop the woman’s retort. “Look, Gods know I would love to believe peace possible—then I could grow old somewhere in a nice cottage, tucked in a forest like this. Maybe even grow fat. I wouldn’t have a need to live by these,” she said, sliding one of her throwing knives partially from its sheath at her wrist. “But men don’t live by peace. They live by passion, and passion leads to war.”

  “‘Passion is of the heart. War is of the soul.’ Ya truly believe that?” Ida took a light heel to her mare as they moved forward again.

  Now I know she’s trained or lived with the Order. She’s studied the works of Yesler Finn, and those works are only obtainable in the Grand Library of Amaska.

  “Would ya agree that ‘there are many little ways to peace, none of which can be found at the end of a sword’?” Ida asked.

  This time it was Adelei who stopped her horse. “You walk the Way of the Warrior, yet you quote Master Bredych as if you know him—how do you know teachings not meant for stray ears?”

  Ida’s horse whinnied, shying away from a stray stick breaking nearby, and Ida patted her mare’s neck absently. “‘Tis only a deer, silly girl.”

  Midnight sidestepped and gave Ida’s mare wide berth. The deer ahead stood erect, waiting for their next course of action. Adelei remained silent and listened to the trees for signs of more than a simple deer. Hearing nothing, they moved on, Ida one hoof fall ahead of her.

  “A long time before ya were birthed, I lived another life, followed another path. More than that, I won’t tell ya yet. And some of it, I won’t tell ya at all, as it’s not my story to tell. You’ll have to ask your father about that.”

  Which one?

  The nagging uncertainty returned by way of a knot in her stomach and dull ache behind her eyes. The next riverbed they encountered was no trickle. Its currents chopped the water in areas, and Adelei dismounted to test its depth with a few tossed rocks. “The saddlebags will need to be raised, but the horses should cross easily enough. We’ll get wet though,” she said and found Ida stripping off her leather mail.

  They hoisted the saddlebags into the saddles and tossed their clothing above that. Both women took their time crossing, neither speaking as all their concentration focused on the movement of their horses and the river’s flow as they swam across.

  After both women sat safely astride their horses, Ida said, “This isn’t somethin’ King Leon wished me to tell ya, as he wished to discuss this particular topic with you himself. But seeing as how this information could prove a liability for ya, I’ll tell ya what ya need to know. As much as I can at any rate.”

  Good to know she’d commit treason when reason called for it. Midnight whinnied and Adelei tried to relax her thighs and her grip on the reins.

  “You’re worried.”

  It wasn’t a question but a statement of fact, and Adelei nodded. “Most people aren’t so willing to commit treason. I know that I asked for answers, but—”

  “What if I were to tell ya that those rumors ya heard were wrong? That the second princess had been hidden away all this time from even her own father?”

  "Hidden? Or sold?”

  “Sold?”

  Adelei smirked. “The other princess was sold in secret to buy the peace treaty, and her sister sold by way of this… marriage.”

  The mare danced in place as Ida stared at Adelei. “I-I
don’t know why they’d perpetuate that tale. Actually, I do. That sounds just like the bullshit Master Bredych would tell to ya. I hate to break it to ya, but he was lying. Princess Iliana Poncett was kidnapped while being sent to safety.”

  She ignored the jibe at Master Bredych and asked, “And who kidnapped her?”

  “We think the Shadians were behind it.”

  She was lying. She knew a liar when she saw one. The frown had crossed Ida’s face after the fact, and the warrior had shifted her weight forward a few inches in the stirrups. Patience. Adelei listened to the internal voice and filed away the questions.

  As the trees grew denser, both women gave their horses free rein to find their own footing. Adelei leaned across the pommel to duck under a low hanging branch as thick as her waist. The familiar movement sent a tremor through her. These trees. There was darkness, just like this. Hanging over the saddle.

  “…Was kidnapped.” Adelei shook off Ida’s words.

  “How much travel will be through thick forest like this?”

  “Quite a lot. Alexander is heavily treed land—certainly not sparse like Sadai.”

  Adelei’s eyes scanned the thick brush ahead, and she caught the captain doing the same. It would be the perfect place for an ambush. They’d left the junipers and sagebrush of Sadai far behind as thick evergreens stretched far up into the sky. The occasional deciduous tree helped populate the forest, and between the two, little sunlight reached them at the forest floor. The transition had been gradual enough that Adelei only noticed now that afternoon brought a shift in the sun’s placement. Even in the summer’s day warmth, Adelei shivered.

  “I know ya were raised by Amaskans,” Ida said, her eyes never leaving the forest. “But what do ya remember of your life before the Order?”

  “Not much. I was very young when I was taken in. Five, I think, but obviously you knew since you asked.”