With Bryan's help, Seth crawled onto the small section of wreckage. He lay on his back panting for many long minutes. Exhaustion nearly carried him away to sleep, but he fought to maintain consciousness. Did anyone else survive?
I'm not sure, I saw you get knocked into the sea as the mast crumbled, and I panicked. Everything after that is a blur. The ships are all gone. Fire and water took them.
What about Sailmaster Cagan?
Seth, I don't know… It seems he went down with the Lady L. Bryan paused, his mind filled with obvious anguish. How did they know we had begun the journey? There were so many, so many…
Seth found sudden resolve. We survived, Bryan. We have not failed yet… Wait. Did you feel that?… The anguish, the sadness.
Seth, I'm sorry, I'll shield my thoughts if…
No, someone is out there… Seth turned his thoughts inward and sought to concentrate his will. Then he groped outward with his mind, straining to maintain his strength while he searched. Galan?
Seth pressed his weight against tired arms and sat. He stared into the inky darkness of a largely overcast night sky. He saw little, his mind filled in the pieces. Someone else is with her… She's holding Everrelle afloat… Galan won't last much longer. She's exhausted.
Frantically, Bryan and Seth paddled with their hands through choppy waters. It seemed with waves slapping against the makeshift raft they barely moved at all. Then suddenly, two dark shapes appeared out of the gloom. Everrelle, barely conscious, was near death and brave Galan was utterly exhausted from the struggle to keep two afloat in turbulent waters.
Chapter Twelve
The plains beyond Imtal Palace, the rolling foothills of the Braddabaggon and the green of the forest were all far behind Adrina now. The day before they had passed through a quiet village with an inn; the brief reprieve from the outdoors had felt good. Early this morning the column had crossed into Mellack proper.
Surprisingly, the new day brought a beautiful, clear sky. Adrina's mood became cheerful despite her saddle-sore backside and her heavy thoughts. The southern road, though still muddied, was readily traversable and the column was able to travel at a remarkably good pace considering their rate the previous days. Adrina had seen very few passersby this day—only a few merchants, who Captain Brodst had sent immediately away to peddle their wares elsewhere, and the infrequent travelers who hurried along on independent missions.
Over the past days Adrina had thought of little else other than the words of the mysterious lady and the heir to the throne of Sever, Prince William. She had only met the prince once, but that had been three long years ago at her mother's funeral. She remembered little of her distant cousin, only that he had the bluest eyes she'd ever seen.
Adrina watched everything and everyone she passed, thinking every pair of peddlers would be the two strangers or that every guardsman that came near her was the traitor. "You must open your eyes," the lady had told her, and Adrina was trying.
Emel stayed as close to Adrina as his duties allowed. The two had discussed several plans of action but nothing they came up with seemed appropriate. The lady had told them to tell no one of their conversation, but how could they do otherwise? They had to tell someone—for how could they stop the column from proceeding onward to Alderan—but who?
A sounding of the horns signaled a slackening of the pace and as Adrina looked up she saw Emel racing back to the middle of the column. Hours ago he had been sent out to lead a scouting party.
Adrina nodded her head as he passed her. She noticed he looked nervous and knew he would return as soon as he reported the group's findings. Captain Brodst had been sending out scouting parties at regular intervals ever since they had crossed into Mellack Proper. Adrina guessed that this was because Mellack Proper was a king's holding without a garrison. The citizens of Mellack looked to the Duchy of Ispeth that bordered it to the southeast and to Imtal to the north for its defense.
She didn't have to wait long, though; Emel was reining Ebony Lightning in beside her a short while later.
"Did you see something?" she excitedly asked him.
Emel looked away from Adrina's eyes. "Nothing but fields as far as the eye can see."
"Why are you sweating so? And you look peaked. What is wrong?"
Emel turned a grimace into a smile. "Ebony wanted to race, so I pressed the group hard. I saw no harm in it. We are nearly upon the borders of Ispeth now."
"Isn't much to Mellack Proper, is there?"
The expression on Emel's face grew grim. He lowered his voice to a whisper as he began to speak. "Did you know that tomorrow a detachment will break from the main company?"
Adrina turned frank eyes upon Emel. "Have you thought of what I said earlier?"
"I've thought of little else." Tension was evident in Emel's voice. "Do you really think it is wise?"
"Do we have any other choice?"
Ebony nickered. Emel stroked the stallion's mane. "I need more time. Besides, my father wants me at the fore of the column. We can talk again later. Agreed?"
Concern in her eyes, Adrina watched Emel ride off. Afterward her thoughts turned back to the road. An afternoon sun was just starting its descent and passing clouds brought dark shadows to the land. She hoped it wouldn't rain again, and as time passed and rain did not come she counted herself fortunate.
She listened to the clatter-clatter of hooves and heels along the hardening ground. The company had returned to a four-abreast formation with one squadron of Horse soldiers to the fore of her position, the Foot directly behind the middle ranks, and a final squadron of Horse to the rear. The palace guardsmen and the distinguished guests made up the middle of the formation with protective files set up along both sides of them.
Great Kingdom had few bandits in its heartland but Adrina knew Captain Brodst thought one could never be overcautious. As she looked on, the captain surveyed his group from end to end. He was conferring with the three commanders. From his especially grave scowl, Adrina guessed it wasn't pleasant words he spoke to them. Of the three, Captain Adylton, Captain Ghenson and Captain Trendmore, it was only Captain Trendmore that she thought warranted closer attention. Trendmore was an ambitious and manipulative man, or so Adrina had once heard during a session of her father's court.
Adrina chased after Emel in her thoughts now and, preoccupied with this, didn't notice the keeper's presence beside her, nor did she hear his words of inquiry until he spoke louder. She started at the voice, jumped in the saddle and had to rein in her mount to curb its excitement, which matched her own.
"What troubles the mind of one so young?" Keeper Martin asked.
Recovering her senses, Adrina said, "Beautiful day, keeper."
Martin mumbled something inaudible.
"Have you decided if you will continue to Alderan with us or not, keeper?"
"The East-West crossroads are but a day away. I may yet change my mind and go south with the party to Quashan', dear." Gray-haired Martin paused. "In truth, I am awaiting response to the message I sent to Keeper Q'yer. If all goes well I should receive it this night."
"Tonight?" she asked.
"Keeper Q'yer has had his week to recuperate from the last sending."
Adrina turned frank eyes on the keeper. "A dream message?"
The keeper smiled knowingly but didn't say anything immediately. Adrina knew little about the mysterious Lore Keepers, who in recent years had detached themselves from palace proceedings yet still seemed to know everything that went on in Imtal. She knew the keeper to be a man who preferred his records and his tomes to human companionship—at least that is what she had heard.
"You have careful ears, dear," Keeper Martin said, "Where did you hear such a thing?"
It was a check for honesty; Adrina knew, among his other duties as Head Keeper, Martin tracked the history of the royal family. At the age of consent, it would be time to draft a new tome, one with Adrina's name inscribed upon its leather binding. "Why from your own lips, keeper."
"A dream message is a form of communication," Martin said, his words sounding like an oration, "A keeper can deliver a message to another keeper in the form of a message that enters his or her awareness and takes the form of a dream."
"But how is such a thing possible?"
"Very simply, actually. The real difficulty lies in the proper use of your will. To begin you must clear all thoughts from your mind and reach into the center of your being. A spark of power lies there that is your soul. You reach out with that power until you touch the consciousness of the one you wish to communicate with. You speak through images and feelings that you create in your consciousness and pass… Boring you, dear? I am sorry, I tend to babble."
Adrina tried to remain focused on her goal, which was to find out what the keeper knew of their destination, but she was caught in the interest of the ideas he presented to her and this perplexed her. "Keeper Martin, you're not boring me. Can anyone do this? How come you can't use words?"
"Slow down, dear," Martin said with equal enthusiasm. "Only a few know how to properly utilize their consciousness to create a message. It is part of the knowledge passed down from Great Father to us alone, the Keepers of the Lore. Throughout time there have been others who learned to use this power. Unfortunately, though, only the keepers retain this knowledge now."
"I don't understand. How can you comprehend the dream if you do not use words?"
"I did not say words could not be used." Martin paused, adding extra meaning to the statement. "It takes an extremely powerful center to create a vision in the form of thoughts that enter another's awareness as audible words. The simpler form is to use images and feelings."
Adrina was excited now and did little to hide it. "Keeper, can you teach me, I mean… can you teach me how to use the dream message?"
The keeper sighed with lament. "I can teach you the theory but I am afraid it is a moot undertaking."
Adrina thought about his words for a moment. She still wanted to know what he knew about their destination but she was genuinely intrigued. She also hoped this would give her a chance to talk to the keeper alone. She had made her choice, she would tell the keeper of her troubles. She had only to tell Emel this now. "I do not mind. If you do not mind imparting your wisdom to me, of course?"
The keeper's eyes gleamed as he said, "Of course I don't mind. In fact, I'll take great pleasure in it. We'll start this evening."
Adrina grinned. Just then her mare nickered and as she stroked the nervous animal's mane, she thought of Emel at the fore of the column, and as she looked to Keeper Martin, she noticed he too was stroking his horse's mane.
The night passed with eerie swiftness. Seth awoke to find a midday sun. Images from the previous day seemed a crazed blur, but the ache of his body told him it had all been real. For an instant Seth felt sure he was alone, then he saw the others. They were the last survivors. Frazzled and haggard from battle and exposure to the sea, only four lingered in life, only these four that had escaped. Now faith in their service would take them to safety or deliver them from life.
Still exhausted, Bryan and Galan slept. Everrelle, weak from blood loss, slipped in and out of delirium. Seth turned bleary eyes to the sun, its warmth on his face felt good. He remembered now that during the night he had prayed for the day to end the bitter cold. He removed his cloak, which was still mostly wet, and allowed the sun to chase away any remnants of the night's chill. He then worked to bind the already festering wounds from the battle.
Each of his companions had many injuries—bruises, scrapes, lacerations—which proved to him how desperate the battle had really been and how miraculous it was that anyone survived. Everrelle was by far in the worst condition. Her right hand was missing four fingers. Seth was sure she must have reached out to block a blow and instead met the steel of a blade. Using strips of cloth from his robe, he did the best he could to wrap her hand, hoping it would help stay the infection. He turned to Galan next, Bryan afterward. His own wounds he bound last.
Scattered debris from the great ships that the dark, deep waters had claimed during the night was all around them. Seth worked against fate to gather what he could. As he worked, he thought of Cagan standing defiantly at the helm of the Lady L. He told himself that was how he wanted to remember the kind sailmaster and all the others that had perished with him. In the end, his search turned up an invaluable prize, a water bag. Half full but still a water bag. He put it beside the one Bryan had managed to escape the Lady L with, and thanked Great Father for their good fortune.
The day grew long. The utter exhaustion that held the others found Seth. Unwillingly, he slipped into delirium.
Days passed. Everrelle's condition worsened. Seth, Galan and Bryan took turns at the healing art, but weak from battle and hunger, they could offer little. Unbelievably, the raft, held together with prayers and pieces of cloth, had kept them afloat through those endless days.
Seth had held the hope that land was just over the next crest of the rolling waves or just beyond the next horizon. Bryan and Galan had also been hopeful. Days of nothing save dark waters had tainted that hope and the possibility of safe landfall waned. Now Seth could only lie idle with all his energy drained. Only his training kept his mind semi-clear and his thoughts open. I am Brother Seth of the Red, First of that order, Queen's Protector, he repeated many times in his mind.
He sought to cleanse his mind of questions he didn't want to answer. Nonetheless, the questions came. The ambush set by King Mark had been too well planned. How could anyone have known their plans so precisely? Was there a traitor among them? Had there been a traitor on the Lady L leading the enemy to them?
The thought of a traitor having been among them was too painful for Seth to consider. Brother did not betray brother. No, I must focus. Seth returned to the cleansing meditation.
Seth? came the whisper into his mind.
I am Brother Seth of the Red, First of that order, Queen's Protector. I must maintain clear thoughts…
Seth? came the whisper into his mind again.
It was Galan. Seth was glad to hear her voice in his mind. Yes, my brother, I am still here.
Seth, what will it be like in this land of Men? asked Galan.
Still lost in his meditation, it took Seth a moment to slip back into reality, a task accomplished only after Galan repeated her question. Seth replied slowly, thoughtfully, It will be different, far different from anything we have ever seen that is for sure. Long ago our people often journeyed to their villages and cities. Our lands and cultures were close together then. It had been a peaceful time, but then came the Great Wars. The last and most devastating treacheries were the Race Wars during which Man drove all their distant cousins away. Into the far corners of the world we fled and never in over five hundred years have we ventured back into their lands.
Seth felt Galan fight to remain coherent. Galan asked, What did you learn during those many weeks you studied them? Do you really think they will help us? Or will it all be for nothing.
Her faith was waning and Seth knew this. Once we explain what is taking place, it will be their cause as it is ours. They must aid us. However, it could take a long time to explain. These Men—Seth said the word with distaste—prefer to stay out of the affairs of others until they are sure they have a marked interest in what is taking place. They often wait until it is too late.
Seth, began Galan, there was a serious note in the unspoken voice, there is something I should tell you that I haven't, something I overheard—
—I do not wish to know thoughts that I was not meant to. Some things are best left unknown.
Like why you prepared for a journey to the lands of Man even before Queen Mother consulted High Council. Moreover, why your lessons began even before we learned of the return.
Seth was unsure whether he should voice the truth or not, but what did it really matter anyway? There is much more in peril than our homes and lands. Queen Mother knows this.
I must rest. Will you play the image Bro
ther Liyan gave to you, the image of the forest? I wish to dream…
Captain Brodst called the column to a halt near the borders of Ispeth. "Eat well. Rest your feet and your mounts," he advised. "If the good weather holds we will try to make up the distance we lost to rains the days before. The earlier we reach the crossroads tomorrow, the better."
Adrina dismounted and led her mount to the top of a small rise where the commanders and the guests would have their midday meal. Mostly she wanted to listen in on their conversations but she was also very hungry.
From atop the hill she could look down on the whole of the extensive company. Ridesmen were tending to their mounts. Foot soldiers were resting tired feet. Obviously unhappy guards were posted around the perimeter. The attendant beside her was having a difficult time steadying Adrina's mare.
Not far off Adrina saw Emel and the small band of young ridesmen that had survived the encounter of the Braddabaggon. Little of their conversation rose to her ears, but she could tell the foul weather hadn't dampened their high spirits. To them, the journey to Alderan was still high adventure. Adrina wasn't so sure anymore, though she still longed to feel hot sands between her toes and taste the salty spray of wind-blown seas.
True to his word, Emel found Adrina shortly after Captain Brodst called the column to movement. Before she could say anything of her conversation with Keeper Martin, Emel spoke his mind. "I have given it much thought," he said furrowing his eyebrows and borrowing his father's scowl, "I truly do not know Father Jacob or Keeper Martin. I am sure they are both men of honor but I cannot vouch for their word. My father, the captain, on the other hand is a man who lives by his sense of honor and I can vouch for his word. He has never knowingly broken a trust."
Adrina didn't know what to say. She had tried to interrupt Emel but he hadn't let her. Just as she was about to say something, her mare whinnied. She ran her hands along the animal's withers and the base of the mane and scratched. The mare was fond of Emel's Ebony, but something was bothering her.
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