Ruin Mist Chronicles Bundle

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Ruin Mist Chronicles Bundle Page 164

by Robert Stanek


  Bryan and Galan's faces were covered with sun blisters, as was his own. His thoughts were only for his fellows. Two must survive no matter the cost, he whispered to himself, two must survive. Those were Queen Mother's last words of warning.

  Delirium enveloped his thoughts and the words echoed through his mind. Somehow he must shield them; somehow they must all survive.

  The day ended and early night settled in. Vilmos and Xith set up camp in the safety of a clearing within a small woodland oasis. The rather large stand, an oddity this far south, was a hearty growth of fine northern fir, whose clipped boughs served as an excellent mattress upon which to rest. Lying upon these soft, scented pine boughs, arms crossed and head propped atop, their tired eyes stared up at the star-filled night sky with a gently shining liquid moon.

  It was an autumn moon, a moon that was not quite full and loomed low in the sky with the distant, unseen sun casting a cool orange luminescence upon its face. In other times Xith would have called it a blooded moon and the portent would have been one of ominous foreboding, but under the current circumstances it merely moved him into a somber introspective mood.

  While he didn't give the omen much thought, he did not cast it away either. Rather it hung there in the back of his mind while he floated off to sleep and later invaded his few moments of private dreams.

  Chapter Seventeen

  More long hours under the burning sun did little for Seth's clarity of mind. He was nearing total delirium. The only thought that kept him near sanity was the one single thought that had kept him through these final hours.

  Two must survive, two must survive no matter the cost, went the echo in his mind. Surely some time ago he had ceased thinking it, yet the echo still clung to his mind.

  With great persistence, Seth moved from a sitting position to a kneeling position—waves shifting the raft and his fatigue made the small accomplishment a difficult chore. He held there motionless for a moment and tried to recall why he had risen to his knees. After a lengthy pause, he sank back down to his haunches. There must have been something he had wanted to do, but what, he couldn't recall.

  Two must survive, he whispered.

  Weary, Seth slumped down onto his side. He closed and shielded tired eyes, using the tattered shards of a once magnificent cloak to mask his face. For what seemed hours, the ceaseless up and down swaying of the raft lulled him. By luck or fate, or perhaps a little help from Great Father, Seth managed to focus his will, though only for an instant. He reached outward with his mind trying desperately to reach a knowing consciousness. He found none.

  The momentary clarity of mind also allowed him to concentrate. Surely there was an answer to their dilemma. He pondered this. Something had gone wrong from the start, but what had it been. Had there been a traitor among them? Was there a traitor among them now? Was it Bryan or Galan?

  Seth dismissed the idea of a traitor. No one of the Brotherhood would ever betray Queen Mother—King Mark, whispered his conscience. No, King Mark betrayed all. Survival is keyed to the past. The answer is there, if only I can find it.

  Exhausted, Seth started to drift off to sleep and was quickly lost to his dreams, dreams in which he could replay events that had unfolded against them.

  No longer was he in his beloved homeland, surrounded by the peace and serenity of Queen Mother. Now he was thrust out into the strange and cruel world, into an unknown fate. Only Great Father knew how the long struggle would end.

  His mind wandered further. He floated through delirium to mixed conscious thought. He began to think back, back to the time before they had left their homeland. At first in this mixed up delusion that to him seemed real, Seth heard only the voices, his and hers. As his thoughts cleared and he entered a deeper dream-state, he pieced together disconnected thoughts without much detail.

  It was to this at first colorless world of dream with only the voices that he fled.

  "Isador, I saw him. I saw him!" screamed Adrina, as she roused from a feverish state. "He is hurting. He needs our help!"

  "Princess, it was only a dream," said an alarmed Father Jacob. The sound of Adrina's voice had startled him. He took the moist towel from her brow, dipped it into the cold water of the basin beside him and then reapplied it to her forehead. The fever must have finally broken, he thought.

  "We must hurry," continued Adrina heatedly.

  "It was only a dream," repeated Father Jacob. He patiently dabbed the girl's forehead with the cold towel.

  "His eyes were the bluest blue. He spoke to me in the dream." Adrina lurched up in bed, and then after putting her feet to floor she stood. She looked around the unfamiliar room and stopped. A puzzled frown crossed her face. "Where am I and how did I get here?"

  The room started to swirl around her, twisting and turning round and round. Adrina began to lose her balance. She fought to steady herself. Father Jacob caught her and ferried her back into bed. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and imploring, and said, "We must leave now. I know where he is. Just as the lady said, the ship did not reach Alderan."

  Father Jacob was sure Adrina was talking gibberish again. She had said many things in her fevered state. "Child you must rest. Tomorrow will bring a new day. The others will return soon enough."

  "You don't understand, Father Jacob. Get Keeper Martin. He understands; he will listen to me."

  "I am afraid they have already departed. You have been asleep for quite some time. Now please get some rest, my child," said Jacob. He pulled heavy blankets up around Adrina to keep the girl warm.

  Adrina wanted to say something else but Jacob silenced her and again bade her to sleep. As Jacob turned away, Adrina grabbed his arm and squeezed as hard as she could to gain his attention. She didn't want to sleep—at least, not yet. Once she had his attention, she stared straight into his eyes and stated in a calm, portentous manner, "When did they leave? We must go now before it is too late."

  Father Jacob was taken aback by her words, something told him to listen to her. "Slow down, Princess. I am afraid I don't understand. Tell me of the dream."

  After a brief moment of silence, Adrina said, "It was in my dreams, father. I saw Prince William and he spoke to me. I know where he is and he urgently needs our help… There is something wrong."

  "You are full of fever. Prince William is in Alderan. No harm could have befallen him there."

  Adrina closed her eyes for a moment though she did not let go of Jacob's arm. "No, the ship from Wellison did not complete the journey. The voices, the message, Father Jacob, it was all real… You must believe me. If only Keeper Martin were here. He would understand."

  "I believe you young princess," said Father Jacob, "but you are in no condition to travel."

  Adrina regarded Father Jacob with serious eyes. "Are you patronizing me?"

  "You close your eyes and rest now. I'll see if I can arrange travel accommodations." Jacob nodded his head wearily. He wasn't convinced it was a good idea to leave Fraddylwicke Castle. He departed Adrina's chamber with troubled thoughts filling his mind. His hope was that the girl would be fast asleep when he returned.

  Waves beneath the raft shifted it and just as his thoughts were coming to a clear, full focus, Seth was jolted from his slumber. He opened bleary eyes to a night sky. He did not marvel at the arrival of darkness. The night sky only meant cruel heat was gone and bitter cold had replaced it.

  He was thankful though that Bryan and Galan were soundly sleeping. They had survived yet another day beneath the untiring fury of the day sky.

  He opened the water skin and put several droplets to his lips. He could have easily finished that last bit of water in the container. It would have only taken a second more. He reveled in the fantasy of it slipping coolly down his throat. The fact that his throat was swollen and every such swallow would have brought sure pain did not taint the longing.

  Give me strength, he implored.

  Only as he raised the container back to his lips did he find restraint. Thank you…


  Two must survive, went the ceaseless echo in his mind. He turned his eyes back to the dark waters and a thought from the dream found him. The mind shield. The mind shield could resist his probing thoughts. Anyone could be lurking out there in the darkness, waiting just beyond the next crest or trough.

  High Hall, why High Hall? Seth thought suddenly, though he didn't dwell on this long. He was elated. Keys beyond the confusion in his mind could be found. Bryan, Galan!

  He had considered the others a moment ago, though the thought had slipped away before he had a chance to focus on it. Galan, Bryan? he called out again.

  Neither stirred.

  A panicked probing assured him they were alive, although he didn't like the weakness that had come from Bryan and it worried him. Convinced that in order to survive the journey he must lose no more of his companions, Seth was prepared to go to any length to ensure their survival. He would have slashed his own wrists and fed them from the blood that oozed from the open gash if he could have. In the very real delirium of his mind, this notion was suddenly appealing until he realized it would quicken his own passage from life. And life, especially one's own, was sacred.

  Suddenly he wished he had learned more about the sea. He knew little of the creatures that lurked beneath the dark waters, only that at night he saw them, the ones called krens with the high dorsal fins, circling round and round their tiny raft. When he had been stronger, he had chased them away by sending harsh emotions into their underdeveloped brains. Now he was too weak to attempt this and nearly too weak to care at all.

  Somewhere in the convoluted corners of his mind he made a connection between the circling predator and Bryan. Suddenly he remembered the water bag still clutched in his upturned hand. He awoke Bryan and forced the brother to drink a few precious drops.

  Do not waste brother, you need this more than I. You must live… came the shallow whisper into his mind, the voice was Bryan's.

  Drink, I will not tolerate nonsense.

  Afterward Seth gave Galan an equal portion of the water. Drink, drink, he told Galan. The supply of water is almost spent and soon we will all be without its life giving essence…

  Although his teachings and his faith told him otherwise, he felt completely responsible for the fate of his two companions. If he had but one wish, he would be able to do something, anything that would ease their suffering.

  It is time you saved your strength, imparted Galan.

  Surprised by the voice, for he had been sure his thoughts were sealed, Seth apologized. I am sorry Brother Galan. I did not mean to trouble you with open thought.

  Seth, you know better than that. Our fate is predestined, you cannot alter it. You cannot stop the inevitable any more than you can hold back the winds or the looming hands of fate…

  Seth listened to her words yet he did not accept them. The weight of guilt had already scarred him.

  Sleep well my Galan, he told her, although he doubted Galan had heard him for she was already gathered in a heavy sleep. The presence of the Father faintly came to Seth, as he too slipped quickly back to sleep and delirium. His dreams of remembrance grew surprisingly richer.

  Two must survive, echoed once more in his thoughts, just before the dreams gathered full force.

  Adrina gathered her strength and sat up. She stretched her arms and her sore back with a hefty, stretching yawn. A few minutes passed without movement as she attempted to shake dizziness away. Eventually the room did stop moving. She slipped over to the side of the bed and placed her feet on the floor.

  Carefully she reached out, grasped her boots, then slipped her feet into them. A bit wobbly, she stood and looked about the chamber. Bright daylight pouring in through a terraced doorway instantly caught her attention. She walked out onto the balcony and squinted at the bright orange of the sun, which to her astonishment was midway in the sky.

  She rushed back into a chamber that seemed suddenly dark. She stumbled. She had moved too fast. She pressed up against the frame of the door and held herself there for several long breaths while her eyes slowly readjusted to the dimness of the interior.

  After a quick scan for belongings in the unfamiliar room, she prepared to leave. Instinctively she checked her hair in the large mirror that stood beside the door on her way out. Her hair was a mess. She ran her fingers through it to straighten it. Abruptly she stopped what she was doing and stared at her reflection. Something wasn't right. It took her a moment to realize she was wearing a nightgown. To have put her boots on while she still wore bed clothes—whatever was she thinking?

  She wasn't thinking—and she knew this.

  Her head ached on one side—a dull throbbing that numbed her awareness—as if she had been kicked and a large swollen area on the right side of her skull attested to this fact. She touched it gingerly and winced.

  Think clearly, she told herself. She tensed and took a couple of deep breaths, trying to concentrate.

  It took her a moment to remember what she was doing and only after staring into the mirror again did she finally realize what she needed to do next.

  "Riding clothes, riding clothes," she muttered to herself.

  At the opposite end of the large chamber was a partial wall-divider, which she finally realized was where the dressing area must be.

  Adrina touched the lump on the side of her head. She screamed out. Her brain was there—in pain.

  It was a slow methodical shuffle to the divider and even slower changing into her riding clothes, which were clean and thankfully dry. She recalled now that they had been wet, that she had been wet.

  A dull thump sounded at the door as she was dressing and Adrina shouted, "Just a moment," her head throbbing with pain as she did so.

  It took a few more careful minutes before she finished dressing and walked over to open the door. She opened it to find Father Jacob standing solemnly, a deep-set frown on his face.

  "I was hoping you would be fast asleep when I returned," he said, as he stepped into the chamber. "You are still flushed with fever. A day's delay will cause little harm. I am concerned about your health, child, more than anything else. That was a nasty fall. You need to rest."

  "There will be plenty of time to rest later, Father Jacob." Father Jacob started to reply. Adrina reached out and took his hand in hers. "I must do this, Father Jacob." She spoke with sincerity.

  Adrina started to lead Jacob into the hall and as he stepped back into the corridor he stopped. "Wait a minute, am I crazy? I didn't want to do this, but if I have to… Get back into that bed this instant, you will sleep!"

  Adrina stepped deftly passed Father Jacob. "This will not wait, father. He is dying, I know it." Hesitant, Adrina stopped herself from saying anything more.

  Jacob took a step toward her. "Go on," he said.

  "It was only the voice at first, calling out, but then I started to see things. It was as if I were traveling a great distance. There was so much I know I saw that I cannot recollect, so much, Father Jacob… The vision first led me out to sea, then to the southern coast."

  "Did you?" asked Jacob, "No, of course you didn't, did you?"

  "Did I what, Father Jacob?"

  "At any rate, we cannot leave until Captain Brodst recovers. I would not hear the last of it if I left him in Fraddylwicke Castle with the Baron and Baroness."

  Adrina nearly fell as the words hit her. Father Jacob fought to ferry her back to bed but she wouldn't let him. "Who leads the column to Alderan?"

  "The second in command was Captain Trendmore. He assumed command after Captain Brodst's unfortunate accident. He waited until late this morning, but couldn't wait any longer. With Prince Valam's arrival in Alderan in three days, he had to leave. It will take a miracle—" Jacob glanced heavenward. "—for them to make that march in three days. I am sure Captain Brodst said it would take at least five."

  Adrina's face turned deathly pale. Now she understood why the detachment had turned south for Quashan'. Now she understood why so much was at stake in Alderan. "Prince V
alam is to meet the ship from Wellison, the ship carrying Prince William?"

  The lady's words flooded into Adrina's mind and piece-by-piece she started to put the puzzle together. A voice whispered in her mind, "The ship from Wellison has a most precious cargo, the heir to the throne of Sever. At this very moment King Charles lies dying in his bed… King Jarom sees himself seated in the throne room of Imtal Palace. To be sure, he will use the death of Charles and the fears of the heir to his own ends."

  Adrina decided right then to confide in Father Jacob. She recounted the meetings with the strange lady. She told him of the first meeting in the palace tower at Imtal and the second meeting in the forest on the night of the heavy rains.

  As Adrina watched, it was clear a flood of awareness swept over Father Jacob. He was silent for a time then he mumbled words Adrina barely understood. "This is the very message Great Father sent—the message I have puzzled over these long past days."

  "Father Jacob, are you all right? Is there something I can do for you?"

  "Just let me stand here a moment, child." Father Jacob paused, took a deep breath then added, "On second thought, let's sit. Perhaps over on the bed…" Father Jacob regarded Adrina with marvel. "I told no one about the voices and the portentous messages that brought me to Imtal Palace on a dark night what seemed so long ago. I did not even tell the cunning Keeper Martin."

  Chapter Eighteen

  The first shafts of light from an early morning sun shot over the horizon. The light touched the haze of Seth's mind and caused him to rub his burning eyes. A dry yawn issued from his mouth, and then with one partially unclenched eye, he squinted toward the brightness.

  It will be a clear day.

  Seth both welcomed the sun's warmth to end the night's cold and feared its erosion of their bodies. For Seth, the days were longer than the nights and, upon reflection, he did indeed prefer the night despite the often-bitter cold.

 

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