“Why twelve years?” asked Aran.
The scout stared at the rocky ground, “It is considered that a woman is ready to be married at age twelve. We call the ceremony ‘shackling’.”
“Sounds awful,” Theaua stated quietly as she too overheard the conversation, “I wonder how the women of Thakurian society stood such behaviour for so long!”
“We don’t know how the mother and daughter managed to survive for so long alone,” continued the scout, ignoring the comments of the female mage, “However, after twelve years they presented themselves to the Traders Caste, and were taken back in. Both women were shackled immediately, the daughter especially so as she had grown tall, and unusually beautiful by Thakurian standards.”
“So the Warleader’s mother had her child when she was twelve?” asked Drayden.
The Thakurian shook his head, “No, she was much older and hadn’t yet been shackled when she disgraced the Caste. I have heard that she had just turned nineteen when it was discovered that she was pregnant and was cast out.”
“You mean to say that a woman is forced to birth her child alone in the wilderness if she falls pregnant before being married?” Healermage Genn was thunderstruck. “I knew the Thakur had customs different to our own, but that is totally inhumane behaviour,” he turned away in shocked disgust.
“It is our way,” explained the Scout quietly, “We live in a hard land, and cannot allow any softness or deviation from our Customs or Law.”
“Do you have no compassion for what that woman was going through?” asked Aran coldly.
“Compassion?” the Thakurian asked, “I do not understand the meaning of that word!”
“It means pity, sorrow, or empathy for what she was experiencing or feeling,” Aran replied.
The Scout shook his head, “As I said before, our women have little status besides being breeders and home-keepers. If they break the law, then they must suffer under our law.”
“What about the father of the child?” asked Darven, “Was he found? Do you also punish the man for making the woman pregnant?” He stared at the Scout, “For I am certain that even the Thakur know that it takes two to make a child!”
“The father was never found, and the woman never admitted his name,” replied the scout uncomfortably. “In our society men are given free license to pursue an unshackled woman, it is up to the woman to say no to a man’s advances.”
“What if she was raped, forced by violence?” Alissa snapped her words colder than even the wintry air.
The Thakurian fell silent.
“Answer her!” snapped Aran, his angry voice cracking out like a whip, “Whilst you are in our custody, you will obey our customs and laws!”
The Thakurian turned reluctantly to the tall women and tried to meet her furious green eyes, “If a woman is raped and bears a child to that rape, then she is still Shunned. That is the law.”
“Then the law is wrong,” replied Alissa stiffly.
“And what of the rapist, does he get away free?” asked Theaua quietly.
The Scout shook his head, “By law he must pay the Caste the price of the woman he raped. The higher the Caste, the more silver he must pay.”
“So in the light of all this, how did this woman come to be your leader?” asked Drayden.
“Because of her beauty, and despite the disgrace of her past, she was married to a high-ranking officer of the army. No one, not even her own mother or kin suspected that Se-Taanata had a hidden ability, a strange and uncommon gift of being able to influence and control the people about her. Before long, her adoring husband was bending to her every will and whim, acceding to her every demand. Indeed his behaviour made him an object of ridicule to other men.”
He cleared his throat, “By her twentieth year she had in thrall most of the officers of the army. By her thirtieth year, she had the entire army under her command, it was not long after this she took the army and overthrew the ruling Gathering of Nine.”
“A military coup,” muttered Darven to himself.
“By this time her power was such that no one dared or was able to defy her. The few that raised dissenting voices disappeared under mysterious circumstances, never to be seen of again.”
The Scout paused, then continued on, “With the Gathering in ruins, and the regular army Held under her absolute control, she moved her base to the White Fortress of Erie. At the White Fortress there resided an elite company of soldiers whom she encouraged to act as her personal bodyguard and private army. Within days of taking over Erie, she gave instructions to all of Thakur that no one was allowed within sight of that fortress. From that place she also gave implicit orders not only to mobilise the army, but also to levy all able bodied men from the city and farms of Thakur, and from their numbers she raised a mighty host.”
“Was it her intent all along to invade our Province?” asked Darven.
The Scout nodded, “She hates the people of the Free Province with a passion that defies reason. I have never seen the Honoured Warleader, but her temper is legendary, and it is rumoured that her hate stems from the fact that her father was not of Thakur, but an Outsider who raped her mother when the Traders were in Riggeltz all those years ago.”
Drayden sat back and whistled softly between his teeth, “That I did not know. It would explain a great deal as to why she bears this great hatred against us.”
“I wonder who the father is?” murmured Darven, “And whether or not he realises that he is the catalyst for all of this.”
“I doubt it will be someone we know,” replied Alissa, “I personally don’t know anyone from Riggeltz.”
“Most likely a merchant,” agreed Drayden.
“That is if the rumour is true,” interjected Arantur suddenly. “Remember the story is only conjecture, it may not have been a rape after all. We do not know the full tale—it is possible that the woman may have given her consent.”
“Impossible!” countered the Thakurian hotly, “No woman of my people would willingly lie with an Outsider. There would have been too great a shame. No! It is certain she would have been forced.”
Aran gave the prisoner a level stare, “I did not ask for your words. Remember instead where you are and who you are with.”
Darven fingered his sword, “Be grateful that for the moment your life is spared,” he added coldly. “Speak only when you are spoken to, then we might see to preserving your life for a while longer.”
The Thakurian nodded nervously, his mouth suddenly dry as dust. He did not know what it was about the young dark-haired soldier, and the blond-haired leader, but something about them made the hairs on the back of his neck rise in fear. These people of the Free Province seemed hard and implacable, and with each day he travelled with them he wished more and more that the Honoured Warleader had decided not to war against them.
*
With the building of the cairn complete, dinner was soon eaten, and the camp settled down to sleep and rest for the long, wearisome day ahead. With each day taking the group further and deeper into Thakur, Aran was insistent that every member take turns to watch during the night. To this end, a roster was drawn up with two awake at any one time, one human and one wolf. The wolves with their superior night eyesight would prowl the boundaries of the camp, making certain that nothing moved in the absolute darkness of the Trident Range. The group had now become resigned to the wolves travelling with them, and it was a common occurrence for one or two to slip off during the march, to later return with a fresh kill to supplement the rationed meat.
*
It was very late that night, as Drayden was feeding the fire another acacia branch, when he felt the eyes of the prisoner upon him. Straightening from his task, he turned about to gaze narrowly at the Thakurian.
“Can’t you sleep?” the mage asked.
The Scout shook his head, “I’m used to being on night patrol as I’m usually asleep during the day. When you cannot sleep the nights can be very long.”
Drayden w
alked over, and bent down to run a hand through the rough fur of the wolf who was watching the prisoner.
“Aren't you worried that he’ll bite you?” asked the Scout.
Drayden shook his head, “He and I understand each other very well.”
“You’re a sorcerer then?”
“A mage,” corrected Drayden, as he sat down and gently scratched behind the wolf’s ears, “Yes I am a mage, an Earthmage to be exact, which means I have an unusual affinity with animals.”
“I’ve seen you turn into a bird,” the Scout said, “Is it difficult, or painful?”
“Painful no, but totally impossible if you don’t have the spark of Ability,” replied Drayden.
“Ability?”
“Magepower,” answered Drayden, “Not everyone has it, but it can be common in our Province.”
“So I’ve seen,” the Scout said wryly, “It seems that most of your company are mages.”
“Most are,” agreed Drayden, “Even some of the Guard have their own kind of magepower.”
“Something to do with soldiering?” said the Scout, hazarding a guess.
Drayden nodded, “We call them Warriormages.”
He glanced to where Aran and Alissa slept, “King Arantur is one, as is Wolf Leader Darven.”
The Scout nodded, “I thought them hard and driven men. This ‘magepower’ makes them so?”
“Aye, their tempers are short and unpredictable, so I would watch yourself about them,” advised Drayden.
“I will thank you for your warning.”
Drayden stared into the inky darkness, “I am surprised that you haven’t yet tried to escape. I mean you must have had opportunity.”
The Thakurian turned his head to stare at the darkness of the Trident Range.
“There have been a couple of times,” he admitted finally. “Although I dare say I would not have gone far before these wolves had found and killed me.” His gaze turned to where the others were sleeping, “I am not a stupid man, it would be more than foolish for me to try and run away! Besides…” and his voice trailed off.
“What?”
The Scout shrugged, “I find myself responding to your leader. I cannot explain it but he has a presence about him. Sometimes I find myself wishing he did not have to mistrust and hate me so much,” he added candidly.
Drayden stared hard at the prisoner, “You will find it difficult to gain his trust after what your Warleader has done. He will find it difficult to forgive the son of a nation who first conquered our people, and whose leader now seeks to again oppress them.”
“This war was not my doing,” the Thakurian replied bitterly. “I have already told you all that I was drafted into the army. All along I have been only following orders.”
“And he will not easily forgive the man who killed one of his closest friends,” added Drayden gravely.
“Who?” the Scout asked him directly, “In this war I have never raised my hand against anyone, be they friend or foe, ally or enemy!”
“The old mage Trevan was thrown from his horse when your patrol attacked,” accused Drayden “Can you say now that you had no hand in his death.”
The Scout furiously shook his head, “That was an accident only”
“Yet you led the patrol to us,” replied Drayden icily, “Can you admit to having no hand in that.”
“I was only doing my duty,” countered the Scout hurriedly, “Would you punish a man for only following orders? I pointed out the tracks to the Patrol Captain for it was my job to do so. I tried to turn the Captain’s mind once I realised that we were set to run up against an armed enemy column, but he paid me no heed, and almost knocked me out of the saddle for questioning his orders.”
Drayden shrugged, “King Arantur is a just man, but sometimes he sees only the black or white in a situation. As far as I am aware, he holds you directly responsible for the death of his friend. You will need to prove yourself greatly before he will see you as being anything other than his enemy.”
“Then why does he not kill me now?” replied the Scout heavily, “If in his mind I am already judged his enemy.”
“Because he is an honourable man,” said Drayden finally. “If you do not cause trouble, or try to imperil our mission, he will treat you equitably and make certain of your safety and care.”
He stared at the prisoner, “Be thankful that our king is a moral man. If he had been any other sort, your life would have been immediately forfeit.”
*
The next morning broke with grey clouds heavy above them. The overcast had thickened overnight, and the occasional snow flurries were constant now, with the Weathermages having to immediately increase the range, and effect of their spelling.
“We’ve days of this ahead of us,” growled Guardsman Jede, as he threw on his thick worsted wool cloak over the cold and wet chainmail.
“Aye,” agreed Guardsman Gunthred, as he pulled the hood of his own cloak over his head and face, “It’s the peril of travelling during winter in the mountains.”
“At least the Weathermages are keeping the weather more clement about us,” said Jede, “Otherwise it would be mighty uncomfortable and hard going.”
“Whose turn is it to watch the prisoner today?” asked Gunthred.
“Uhmar is already with him. Kunek will take over at the midday,” replied Jede.
Gunthred looked about, “I haven’t seen Bennek for a while. Where is he?”
“With Mage Hela, he seems concerned about the amount of gear she has to carry. I believe he wants to take some of her gear in his pack,” Jede replied.
Gunthred grinned, “Our fellow guardsman seems overly fond of that one. I wonder if his affection is returned.”
Jede shrugged, “I think she is happy about his attention, although I believe that Mage Trenny isn’t too pleased about the relationship. A Warriormage and a Weathermage marrying would surprise everyone,” added Jede wryly, “Although I cannot fault Bennek in his choice. The night of the primal haunting showed Hela to be an interesting woman indeed.” He chuckled, “That one was most imaginative. Never would I have thought to do that in a mating.”
Gunthred grinned too, “If I had not left a woman back at the keep, I might have thought to make an offer for her myself. She is one very energetic lady.”
The two guardsmen glanced at one another, and immediately burst out laughing.
*
By the time the light had grown bright enough to see the mountains about them, the group was ready to continue their trek. The horses had already been sent off back down the way they had come, with implicit instructions from both Bini and Drayden to keep out of sight of the Thakur, and to watch for the group’s return in the weeks to come. With the three remaining pack horses already loaded, and grouped disconsolately around Bini, Aran gave the order to move on, and the group trudged off, following the gravel bank of the stream higher and deeper into the range.
Aran knew that it would take them much longer to achieve their objective on foot, however as the day wore on, and the amount of feed grew scarcer by the hour, he did not regret his decision to abandon the horses. The travellers seemed to have naturally arranged themselves into their own groupings, according to their friendship or relationship with each other. Drayden and Theaua led the party, with Aran and Alissa walking close behind. After them Darven and Bini led the pack horses, followed by Mages Trenny, Genn and Sage Ash, who had found each other to be pleasant travelling companions. Directly behind the mages Uhmar walked guard on the Thakurian Scout, and behind them walked Hela and Bennek, their hands even now still closely entwined. At the rear of the group marched Guardsmen Gunthred, Kunek and Jede. Around, behind, and ahead of the group flitted the ever present grey shadows of the wolves, making certain that no Thakur disturbed their march, and occasionally darting off to investigate the sighting of a lean hare, or ground bird.
It was an uncompromisingly hard and grey day. The walking at least kept the feet and legs warm, but the hands of the travel
lers were often to be seen buried deep in folds of cloaks, and the only colour which marked their faces were the occasional pink spots on nose, cheek or chin. They paused in their march at the mid day to eat a frugal meal, and light a small fire to heat water for herbal teas which would help prevent the winter chills. As soon as Genn had heard the sneezing, and saw the sore eyes and running noses, he had been adamant about the teas, unearthing from his pack a bitter mixture of herbs to steep in the boiling water. The resulting smell from the tea made it almost undrinkable, but the effects were immediate with heads clearing, and figures straightening after drinking the invigorating brew.
*
So the next few days continued in the same pattern as the first. Slowly the group followed the flowing stream deeper and deeper into the range. Each day the weather continued hard and cold, with the constant snow flurries tickling their faces, and working their way into folds of cloaks, tents and leather sleeping sacks. The travellers did not speak much, conserving their strength for the endless days of marching, and even the most heavyset of the group, grew lean and strong with the enforced daily exercise. All the men had long abandoned their shaving-blades, and most now sported beards to try and keep their faces warm against the constant cold. None of the group had bathed since leaving Glade, and the daily washing of hands and face served only to remind them how long it was since they had had the chance to enjoy a long, hot bath.
*
“Do you have a moment?”
Alissa looked up and saw Mage Theaua standing over her.
“Yes, just give me a moment whilst I hand Bini my sleeping sack to pack on the horses,” Alissa replied.
The woman drew back, and watched as the Queen-to-be rolled the leather sack up into a tight wad, secured it with a couple of ropes, and tossed it to the plainsman, who was packing the horses for the day’s travel.
“So what’s the matter?” Alissa asked as she rejoined the female Earthmage.
Warriormage: Book Three of the 'Riothamus' trilogy Page 15