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Amáne of Teravinea - The Prophecy (The Teravinea Series Book 2)

Page 5

by D. Maria Trimble


  He pulled his horse up closer to scrutinize me. Thanks to Eshshah, I could endure his presence. But she had to increase her power to fight his. My chest tightened even more, my breathing more laborious. Where was Gallen? I was on the edge of panic.

  Out of the corner of my eye I could see the sorcerer lift his nose and sniff the air.

  What if he caught the scent of Eshshah that permeates my hair? Without detection, I began to break up the Valerian which has a putrid, rotted cheese odor. It filled the air around me. I fought to keep from gagging, but it did the trick.

  “I thought I detected a familiar spicy scent.” The sorcerer continued to test me.

  “I am a healer’s apprentice,” I repeated. “There are countless herbs and spices that I am immersed in daily, my lord,” I said, thankful that the pungent odor of the herb now overtook any scent of Eshshah. I vowed to myself I’ll never complain again whenever the Healer asks me to pick Valerian.

  Borgen took a step toward me and reached out his hand to touch my face. Slowly, I transferred the herb to my left hand and lowered my right closer to my dagger. I made calculations in my head, planning my strategy to fight. I doubted, though, that I had the strength. My difficulty in breathing would be a major issue. I couldn’t be certain that I could take Borgen down successfully — let alone, his companions. My best option would be to continue to hold back and hope that Gallen would arrive soon. Patience was not one of my stronger qualities. I closed my eyes and bit my lip.

  At last Gallen appeared. I stepped back, away from Borgen’s reach and allowed a silent song of thanks to drift though my mind.

  “Eshshah, please tell Gallen that I am his daughter, Siri, apprentice to the Healer, if he is asked.”

  Gallen pulled up and immediately dismounted. He moved to where I stood and stepped between Borgen and myself in a smooth and unthreatening maneuver, then turned to me.

  “Siri, you were not to stay out this long searching for herbs.” He sounded angry. “The Healer is not happy at your delay. I would appreciate it if you would stop shaming your father, and follow the Healer’s instructions.” Then turning to the three men, but not looking directly at the sorcerer, he said, “She is such a chore. Thank you, sirs, she will not be bothering you any longer.”

  Leaving a look of confusion on Borgen and his companions’ faces, he then boosted me up into the saddle, swung on behind me and without another word or glance in their direction, spurred the horse toward home.

  After we had ridden some distance, Eshshah withdrew her power slowly as the pain in my head and ankle began to lessen on its own. I could breath again. I gulped in as much air as I could.

  Relieved that Gallen had arrived just in time to remove me from danger, I turned to thank him. Before I opened my mouth, the sound of an explosion filled the air. I wheeled my head toward the direction of the blast. In disbelief my eyes fixed on the black smoke that billowed up from the spot at which my mother’s cottage had stood. My hand flew to my mouth and covered the scream I could not stop. I watched in horror as I tried to understand what had just happened. Tears blurred my vision, but there was no mistake that my mother’s cottage no longer existed.

  Gallen held me tighter and coaxed his horse faster. At last we arrived in the courtyard where Eshshah waited for me. I leapt off the horse, ran to her and pressed my forehead against her nose. I held her fangs and sobbed as she hummed a calming tune. I held her like that for a while until the Healer came out and put her arm around me. She gently led me inside.

  “Amáne, you need to prepare to leave. You and Eshshah will fly to the Dorsal Outpost the moment it gets dark. I have no doubts those men will be here looking for you. I can only hope they have enough other households to search before they arrive here.”

  “I want to stay with you and fight. Please don’t make us leave!”

  She took my face in her hands and drew my full attention. “Amáne, we are not ready to expose you and Eshshah. They cannot find you here. You will leave at dark. That’s less than two hours. Now go. Prepare.”

  Grabbing supplies as quickly as I could, I filled my satchel with cheese, bread and potatoes. My pack with my clothes and other necessities lay on the floor near the kitchen door. I threw on my warmer tunic and tights. At the Healer’s recommendation, I donned my fighting gear — my dragonscale breastplate, helmet, a sword in its scabbard at my waist, and my dagger ready at my back. My glaive — my spear — leaned against the wall. If the men arrived before dark, I was prepared to fight.

  A noise and commotion in the apothecary shop at the front of the house startled me. My adrenalin flowed as I grabbed for my spear. The Healer drew her sword. Gallen called for her help. We both ran to assist him. The Healer and I reached the shop and found Gallen holding a limp form in his arms. Behind him were Rio and Mila. Tears streamed down their faces — their mother wailed behind them. I looked again at the limp form and recognized the blond hair.

  “Fiona!”

  “Three men came to our home,” said their mother between sobs. “They were looking for something or someone. Then one of them grabbed Fiona, he was horrible, he hurt her ... and ... and ... my husband was mortally wounded defending her honor. But not before he killed that evil man.” She crumpled to the floor.

  I dropped my glaive and rushed to her aid. Helping her up, I led her to another room and tried to make her comfortable.

  “Keep your eyes on her,” I told the twins. “I’m going to get her some tea to help her relax.”

  I caught the open-mouth stares from Rio and Mila as they took in my attire. The day before, they had seen me dressed in an expensive silk gown. Today, my clothing was as opposite as moon and sun. I offered no explanation, but rushed out of the room.

  I brought back the tea and made sure the family was comfortable, then helped the Healer attend to Fiona. Another disturbance interrupted our efforts as bootsteps rang outside the door. Glaive in hand, I ran into the entry of the shop just as the door flung open. I crouched into my fighting stance as Gallen rushed to join me. I froze.

  “Kail!”

  Taken aback, he stared at me as I stood in front of him in full fighting gear. He could just barely get out my name.

  Anger replaced my relief. “You could have at least tried to enter a little more civilly and not try to break the door down! We might have hurt you.”

  His face changed from bewilderment to one of concern. “Where’s Fiona?”

  “She’s okay. The Healer is with her.”

  Kail tried to get past me, but I stepped in front of him, my spear up in a block. He seemed stunned by my action and stepped back.

  “Amáne, I have to see her.” He lost his strong façade and looked so vulnerable for a brief moment. “Did they hurt her? Did they touch her?”

  “Kail, she’s in good hands now,” I said more gently, “but just so you know, her father now rests with his ancestors because he defended her honor. Believe me, Kail, he defended her well. She’s a bit bruised and still in shock, but she’ll be fine.”

  He made one more attempt to step around me. I held firm. “You know her well enough, Kail, do you think she would want you to see her now? Of course not. Her mother and sisters could use your support.”

  “I’ll stay with them for a bit, but then I’m going to find those men and I’ll slaughter them like the pigs they are.” His face turned purple with rage. I knew what Kail was like when he was angry.

  “You need to calm down Kail. You may not even have to go looking for them because we believe they’ll be heading this way.”

  “What’s going on, Amáne? What are they looking for and why are you dressed for battle? And since when have you fought with a spear?”

  I turned to Gallen with a silent plea to help me out. He put his arm around Kail and led him to another room. I was free to finish my preparations for Eshshah’s and my departure.

  Eshshah was saddled and waiting for me in the courtyard. Everything was ready for us to leave, and darkness had finally fallen.r />
  The Healer had contacted Dorjan who rushed over immediately. He whispered farewell to me, then occupied Kail in conversation while the Healer and Gallen walked me out to the courtyard.

  “Healer, please let me stay and fight. I feel like such a coward, running.” At that same moment, my head began to hurt and my ankle heated up.

  “They’re near!” My fingers pressed against my temples as I doubled over in pain.

  “Amáne you would be of little help to us the way the sorcerer’s powers affect you. And as I said before, we cannot risk exposure. Not yet.” In a commanding voice, she said, “Mount up now and do not return until we contact you that it’s safe. Let us know when you arrive.”

  They both kissed me on the forehead before Gallen helped me up in the saddle. I gave Eshshah the word, and we were off.

  As soon as we arrived at the Dorsal Outpost, we rushed into the library. I put my hand on the knob of the communication disc and whispered, “Gyan,” and then “Nara,” for the Healer. I received no response. Then I tried “Gyan,” and “Kaelem,” for Gallen. Nothing. Lastly, I tried for Dorjan and still no shimmer from the disc. It had been less than half an hour. Why were they not answering? I tried to convince Eshshah that we had to fly back and see if they needed our help.

  Panic rose in my chest. Not knowing what was going on at the Healer’s was torture. I begged Eshshah to take me back home, but she could not be convinced. Instead she suggested I try to contact Braonàn. The Healer had advised him of the situation in Dorsal. He may have heard some news from them.

  Braonàn’s face appeared in the disc and we went through the formalities of saluting and greeting. He hadn’t heard from the Healer, yet, either. I caught him up on the events that occurred before we departed and informed him that I needed to fly back to Dorsal.

  Ansel appeared by Braonàn’s side. I quickly dismissed my heart as it fluttered at the sight of him. This was not the time to deal with that issue. Ansel had heard my quick summary of how I’d escaped the Healer’s. Concern shown on his face when I repeated that I couldn’t make contact with anyone there.

  “Ansel, I want to fly back to the Healer’s. We have to help them.”

  “Did the Healer give you any instructions, Amáne?” he asked calmly.

  I sighed, dropping my shoulders.

  “She told me not to return until they contacted us that it’s safe.”

  He shook his head and a corner of his mouth curved up. “I seem to recall an incident where you attempted to follow your friend’s advice. What was it? — something like it’s better to do what you want and ask for forgiveness after, than to ask for permission beforehand? Did you not learn anything from that fiasco? My advice is to follow the Healer’s orders.”

  I wanted to snap back at him for reminding me of that event. That would have been disrespectful, especially in front of Braonàn, so I kept my temper in check. Even so, I couldn’t control my tongue.

  “But you have no idea how I feel hiding here, safe, in exile, while others risk their lives for me.” Before the last word left my lips, I gasped, realizing what I’d just said. At the same moment his eyebrows raised and he opened his mouth to respond.

  I cut him off, “Ansel. I’m so sorry. Of course you know.” He had lived his entire life under this very same circumstance — others risking their lives for him. I silently reprimanded myself. My outburst didn’t gain me any ground.

  “So, you have a different perspective when the tables are turned, don’t you, Amáne?” A ‘now-you-see-how-I-feel’ tone in his voice.

  “But it’s not the same, Ansel, I —”

  “Amáne, I will not have this conversation with you now.” He radiated an air of authority. I had to remind myself who he truly was — heir to the throne. Arguing with him was wrong. I had to bring that bad habit to an end.

  “I’m sorry.” I bowed my head, truly contrite and determined to show the respect he deserved. It was my duty. This contact should have nothing to do with me and my quest. It was about our concern for what was happening in Dorsal.

  Ansel’s face softened as he redirected our conversation, “I’m sure they’re fine. Maybe the communication disc is not working. Just wait there until you hear from someone, all right?”

  “Yes, Ansel.”

  “Amáne, promise me you will do as the Healer ordered.” He tilted his head at me in an urgent plea.

  “Yes,” I closed my eyes, as I exhaled the word. “I promise.”

  “Thank you. They’ll be fine, Amáne.” He threw me a reassuring smile — it wasn’t as genuine as he tried to make it. His anxiety showed through. “Please let me know when you hear from them, and when you leave the outpost.”

  We signed off and I went back to pacing — my stomach felt like I had swallowed a bucket of worms.

  The sorcerer shouted at me. His evil eyes penetrated into the very core of my identity — calling me out — exposing me as the thief. He repeated the same meaningless words in a grating, rasping voice. I awoke to find myself at a table in the library at the Dorsal Outpost. My head rested on my crossed arms. I couldn’t believe I had dozed off. I realized that the unintelligible words were actually the communication disc buzzing. Shaking the fuzziness from my head, I rushed to the disc.

  Dorjan appeared in the glass, and he looked dreadful. Burned and bruised, anguish written on his face.

  “Dorjan! What’s happened? Is everyone all right?”

  “It’s over, Amáne. The king’s men are no longer a threat, but at no small cost.”

  My heart felt like someone had yanked it from my chest. My throat tightened.

  “Gallen has been injured — perhaps mortally.”

  “No! Eshshah and I are leaving now! Please tell Ansel.”

  And with that, we signed off. I leaped up on the saddle, buckling in as Eshshah rushed to the entry and dove from the ledge. The communication disc barely had time to fade. Eshshah pushed herself to speeds she had never before attained. Sick with worry, we couldn’t anticipate what we might find at the Healer’s.

  We arrived in no time and rushed into my chambers to find Gallen laid up in my bed — burned almost beyond recognition. The stench of burning flesh filled my sensitive nose. It took all of my concentration to keep from vomiting. The Healer, at his side, looked as battered as Dorjan. She held Gallen’s right hand where there seemed to be the least damage. Gallen had burns over thirty percent of his body, mostly on his left side.

  Kail sat silently in the corner with the same battle-worn appearance as the Healer and Dorjan. His jaw dropped when we ran in. Like me, he had believed in dragons — not fooled by the current teachings. Nevertheless, his head jerked at seeing a full-size one enter the room. He immediately jumped up and saluted us. Shocked that he knew the protocol, Eshshah and I both nodded back to him as we headed to Gallen’s bedside.

  Eshshah wasted no time. She directed her attention to the left side of his chest where the injury appeared most severe. Blackened flesh clung to his ribs — the damage deep. She breathed her healing breath on him as she hummed. I was drawn in to join her, and held my hands above his leg. Closing my eyes, I hummed with Eshshah, melding myself with her in hopes I could offer her my strength. Although a small offering, it came from my heart.

  Energy radiated through my hands. I couldn’t determine if it came from Eshshah or from me. The Healer silently cried while holding Gallen’s hand to her lips. The intensity of the healing increased, as did Eshshah’s and my concentration. My hands became uncomfortably warm, but I did not let up. The treatment went on for quite a while. My hands at first got red and then my palms began to blister.

  “Amáne, you can stop if it’s too much for you.”

  “No, Eshshah, I can take the pain, and if it will help Gallen, I won’t stop.”

  Gallen, who at first had been moaning, now began to breathe more evenly and a sigh finally escaped. Eshshah eased up. She pulled away and I did the same. I felt drained, yet relieved to see a noticeable improvement in him. We
were convinced he would live. I sung a silent song of thanks.

  Eshshah then tended to my hands and advised I get some rest. We would need to do several treatments throughout the rest of the night. I didn’t think I would be able to stay awake for much longer, but I needed to speak with Kail for a few minutes.

  Kail had left my chambers earlier, while we were still tending to Gallen. I found him sitting on a surviving bench in the midst of the destruction that was once the Healer’s beautiful library — a blank stare on his face. My heart sank as I saw so many of her books in ashes. Kail saw me coming and started to salute.

  “Kail, you don’t need to do that every time you see me.”

  “Wow, Amáne,” he whispered, still in shock, “who are you?”

  “I know, hard to believe, right?”

  “I should have seen it coming all those years I worked with you,” he said. “You were so different than anyone else. You always had a fire in you — a spirit that lit your eyes.”

  I’d heard a similar description of myself before, and my mouth lifted on one side in a barely perceptible smile.

  “Gallen will live, Kail. Eshshah has remarkable healing powers.”

  Kail exhaled with relief.

  I eased myself onto the bench next to him. Bending over, I picked up a charred map of Castle Teravinea that I had only recently been studying. It crumbled in my hand leaving a sooty stain on my palm. I examined the black smudge as I felt a tear trickle down my cheek.

  Still studying my palm, I said, “Stop staring at me, Kail, I’m still the same Amáne you’ve always known.”

  “Sorry. It’s just hard to take it all in — there’s been three dragon riders living in Dorsal all my life and I never knew. And now I find out that you’re one ...”

  “No one knew ... and that fact still remains.” I looked at him pointedly.

  “Yes, I know, Dorjan already swore me to secrecy.”

  “So, Kail, tell me — what happened here?”

  He took a deep jagged breath, “Not three minutes after you left the room, two men burst in the door of the shop. One of them was a sorcerer — the most wicked person I’ve ever seen or felt. Evil so strong, you could actually feel it.”

 

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