Myst shook her head. “What if they refuse to let the refugees into town or if no one believes Laridiya about the Zynnashans? My father will believe me.” She looked over to a very skeptical-looking Tair. “I’ll understand if you decide not to go.”
“Where am I going to go?” Tair said with a smile. “I have no coin, no direction. All I have is you. And, as depressing as that is, I think I’ll take the odds.”
Myst smiled back at her friend. “I’m glad for that.”
“Who knows?” Tair said as she dug into the water with her paddle. “Maybe your father has missed you so much that he’s no longer angry.”
Myst highly doubted that.
The pair steered their way into the pool, noting that the skiff and two other boats from Tabaan were empty and lashed to one of the dozens of posts that lined the dock. With the grace of familiarity, Tair leapt from the boat as it neared the dock and steadied the craft as it nuzzled against padded bumpers. Myst nimbly walked from the rear of the boat onto shore and gazed cautiously up the wooden steps that led from the riverfront to the gate that protected the town’s switchback. Tair finished tying the boat and joined her friend. With a nervous sigh, the pair made their way up the stairs. As the steps leveled, they were both surprised to see the refugees of Tabaan bunched to the side near an arch of thick, sturdy wood. The adults stood close to the children, keeping them protected as Laridiya argued with two town guards.
Tair always laughed at the bravado of the ‘guards’ simply because all that marked them as such was a thin belt of leather worn over their farming clothes and a brown leather cap. It was the iron sword the guards wore that gave them their courage. Even now, one of them had a hold of their sword hilt as he frowned upon the increasing aggravation of the healer.
Myst could hear Laridiya trying to explain the oncoming danger, but the guards were having no part of it. They were simply in no position to allow these people entry into Joram’s Bend. Laridiya then gestured to Myst and Tair, both of whom shrank a little as she did. The guards took notice and they beckoned the two to come forward.
“It’s Jabor and Cris,” Tair whispered. “We might have a chance.”
Myst nodded. Both of the men were younger and frequented Baem’s Tavern often. Jabor and Cris were not exactly friends of the two, but they did participate in their nocturnal tavern games and seemed to have some form of common sense.
“Will you tell these three fools who you are and how much danger we are all in?” Laridiya said with an exasperated tone.
Three fools? Myst craned her neck to see another male step from behind the arch that framed the gate. This one did not wear a leather cap, but he did have a sword and a white armband with the symbol of the town council painted in red. With an incredulous bark, the man pulled out his sword and pointed it at Tair and Myst. Angry eyes of soft brown stared underneath a wave of brown hair that seemed to be everywhere at once.
“Mystrianna,” he said grimly.
“Vettis,” she acknowledged. “We need to see my father.”
Myst’s former betrothed seemed to smile as he took in the entire scene. “Keep the druid and the strangers here at the gate,” he instructed the guards. He then pointed at Tair and Myst with the tip of his sword. “I will inform the council of their arrival just as soon as I escort these two to the sheriff. They are under arrest.”
Jabor and Cris drew their own swords hesitantly, brandishing them at frightened crowd as if they would not adhere to their instruction.
Laridiya stepped forward with her hands held up in amity. “If you will allow it, sir, I feel I should be with you to state our plight to your council. I have information that they may deem valuable.”
Vettis seemed ready to deny her, but held his tongue at the last moment. With a shrug of his shoulders, he gestured for her to follow his two prisoners.
The four of them began the long trek up the switchback. As she passed the sheepish glances of Jabor and Cris, Myst felt Tair nudge her with an elbow.
“I think he’s still angry,” she said mockingly.
12
Vettis was angry, indeed. He said nothing to Myst as he led the party up the steep and winding road. He looked back at her only once when the four of them reached what was known as the ‘middle path’. This flat stretch of packed earth ran the length of the mesa before turning sharply up another near-vertical rise. Just before the climb, there was a rest area of sorts. A pair of small shacks hugged the rock wall, one to shelter those workers making the trek up the switchback and another to house a small group of mules and horses to refresh those that had reached the halfway mark. Just beyond the turn was the edge of a long, sturdy rope bridge that spanned the width of the Tebis’non, reaching a slim tower of natural stone on the other side. Stairs had been carved on this thin spire, allowing workers to reach the fields to the north.
Tair stood near the rope bridge, casting her own eyes toward the northern horizon. Vettis remained silent, his face a mask of emotionless iron. Laridiya sidled next to Myst, bending her bulk over to adjust the laces of her leather boots. “You failed to mention that you were in trouble here,” she said softly.
“A disagreement,” Myst informed her. “It shouldn’t have an effect on you or the others from Tabaan, but if the council wishes to keep you out, it will find a way.”
“So, you are saying that your elders will cast women and children away, practically giving them to the creatures that nearly killed them?” Laridiya asked with a forceful enough voice to draw the attention of Vettis.
“I’m saying that the council will believe what they want to believe,” she said icily, staring at Vettis to give him the same message, “and that they have a problem taking someone on their word.”
Laridiya gave a snort. “That is a problem with every council in every town.”
“Yes, but my father is on this council,” Myst snapped. She then continued up the path, not bothering to wait for either her friends or her captor.
Vettis motioned for Tair and Laridiya to follow with his sword. The arduous climb finally abated as the road quickly leveled out under a stone archway. Pausing to catch her breath, Laridiya marveled at the layout of the mid-sized town. The packed earth of the road gave way to a path of carved mesa stone that circled the main square which contained a small park covered in lush, green grass and a manicured juniper tree. The bark of the massive tree was warped, giving the base and branches a windswept look. The party walked around the park, ignoring the young children that had stopped their afternoon play to watch the procession of strangers.
A few squared buildings of stone stood on the other side of the road like quiet monoliths. They passed Baem’s Tavern, Jorgassi’s stone works, and a long, low building smelling of manure. The outer rim of the town consisted of five huge estates, each representing the families of Joram’s Bend. Only a select few of the populace lived outside of the familial homes, everyone else resided within their ancestral compound. Joram’s Bend was simply a commune, a collection of five families living generation after generation for the good of their land.
Turning a sharp corner, the group came to a narrow structure with a small staircase leading to a banded iron door. Sitting on the staircase was a wiry old man whittling on a piece of wood with a plain knife. His hair was as white as the snows that would soon come to the farming valley, and as thick as the ice floes that would follow. He had a plain face, nothing remarkable or extraordinary that would mark him as ugly or attractive – save for a jagged scar hugging his left cheek that was as white as his hair. He wore a ragged, sleeveless tunic of forest green and brown pants that were cinched with a leather cord. The man was thin, but muscular, and his shrewd eyes studied those that approached his building.
“Mystrianna Almdor and Tair’Lianne Dellis,” he proclaimed as he stood up faster than his age should have allowed. “This is quite the catch you have here, Vettis.”
“Just doing my duty to bring them back, Sheriff Teeg,” Vettis replied venomously.
/> The Sheriff ignored the barb and studied both women with a wistful sadness. “Does Councilor Almdor know his daughter has returned?”
Vettis sniffed indignantly before answering. “I am escorting this healer there now. I will inform him once I have…”
“You’ll go tell ‘im now.”
“Sheriff, I don’t think you understand the severity of this…”
“What I don’t understand, boy, is why your lips are still flappin’ and your legs are standin’ still,” Teeg said with a growing irritability. “Go and fetch my brother right now, or I’ll tell your father ‘bout how you’re gamblin’ his estate’s money away!”
No further prodding was necessary; Vettis marched off with a silent curse. Unsure of where to go, Laridiya paused for a moment, and then followed the young man with a confused shrug of her shoulders, muttering something about village politics.
“Thank you, Uncle Teeg…” Myst began, but the old man held up a firm, yet aged hand.
“Hand me yer’ weapons,” he ordered gently.
With a confused shake of her head, Myst reached back and unsheathed her blade, giving it to her Uncle by the hilt. The Sheriff’s eyes turned to Tair, boring into her defiance like a juggernaut. She quickly handed him her two daggers, her eyes cast down to her boots.
“Get inside before yer’ father gets here.”
Myst obeyed immediately while Tair went in reluctantly. She knew all too well what was in the narrow building. How many times had Tair been in the Joram’s Bend jail? She wasn’t quite sure of the tally, but she was certain that it would not be quite as easy to get out as it once was. Tair stepped into the gloomy room, sighing at the familiarity of it. There was Teeg’s unfinished pinewood desk and rickety chair. Behind the desk was a door leading to a small storage room where the Sheriff placed the belongings of those staying overnight. Across from the desk was the wide cage with two stone slabs acting as bunks and a chamber pot on either side. Directly to their right was a narrow stone staircase that led to a second floor where Teeg kept his personal quarters.
Tair wasn’t sure how Teeg fell into the Almdor family line. She knew that Teeg was Myst’s uncle, but other than that, the Sheriff made no claim to the Almdors. It was a rare thing when someone distanced themselves from their family. She knew that Teeg had done it and Morvik Jorgassi had also broken from his family and made a lucrative living with his stone works shop. Most of those that strayed from their families just didn’t stay in the Bend. Even Tair’s parents were extreme offshoots of the Dellis family, but her aunt accepted her for what she was – at first. She was family after all. But once Tair made her intentions known that she had no love for farming – Aunt ‘Toady’ had no qualms about disowning her.
Myst was different, however. She was the only daughter to Torvel Almdor – wealthiest land owner and patriarch of the most prominent family in Joram’s Bend. She couldn’t slip away even if she wanted to. She was heir to all her father owned and was desired by every son of the four other families that lived in the Bend. But Myst had an adventurous spirit that Tair was drawn to, much like her own. Tair also liked to believe that Myst’s Uncle Teeg saw it in her, as well. Why else would he train her in sword combat? Even now the old man was examining the sword he took from Myst with a critical eye.
“You’ve been fighting,” he growled. “You’ve left the blade notched. I taught ye’ better than this, girl.”
Tair sensed the simmering anger beneath the Sheriff’s nonchalant demeanor. He yanked the storage door open and placed the sword and the daggers within. Shutting the door, he kept his back to the two women and heaved a huge sigh, letting his shoulders droop. “I told ye’ not to come back, Myst. I told both o’ ye’.”
“I know, Uncle,” Myst said to his back. “But we had…”
“There’s naught I can do for ye’ now, girl!” he bellowed, turning on both. “Whether ye’ took the gold or not, the council thinks ye’ did since ye’ both ran off! I never should ‘ave let ye’ leave. Your paps is pretty convinced that I ‘ad somethin’ to do with ye’ getting’ out of the Bend. Now he’ll be watchin’ us all.”
Tair tried to intercede, but was held in check by a menacing glare from the older man. “Ye’ don’t speak to me, Tair’Lianne! It be yer’ fault my niece is in such trouble. Now, I don’t believe for one second that ye’ were the one that took the town gold, but all the scrapes and problems ye’ had before make the council think otherwise. You’re going to be payin’ for that and Myst will have to pay for getting’ ye’ loose and runnin’ away.”
The Sheriff reinforced his last statement by yanking open the hinged door to the cell. He gestured for both women to step inside, but Tair hesitated. She looked to the door, wondering if she could make it out and hide until the sun went down. Every muscle tensed, her heart raced. She knew that this would be the only moment she had to escape. She looked to Myst, who was staring at her with disbelief, her mouth silently forming the word ‘No’.
“Uncle Teeg, you have to listen to me,” Myst said suddenly. “We came here because…”
Tair bolted for the door, her hand pulling on the iron latch. Teeg pushed Myst back and grabbed at the young woman, but Tair moved too fast, spinning and ducking her way out the door – and into the waiting grasp of Torvel Almdor. The councilman held onto Tair by her upper arms as she tried to wrestle free. Before she could do anything else, she felt Teeg behind her and saw Vettis running to help Myst’s father. She could not hope to escape with the three men holding her, so Tair stopped fighting. She allowed Torvel and Teeg to escort her back into the building and into the cell. She sat upon one of the bunks, her eyes upon the stone floor, her ebony hair hiding her face.
“I trust you can keep her in there this time,” Torvel said cuttingly. He then turned to Myst. “Daughter, I am glad to see you safe, but I am quite tempted to allow Sheriff Teeg to lock you in with that thief! Have you any idea the torment you have placed upon your mother and me?”
Myst gave an exasperated sigh to Teeg then turned to her father. “Paps, I understand you’re angry, but Tair and I came back to warn you that…”
But her father was not listening. He continued to go down the list of problems Myst had created with her childish act – breaking her misguided friend out of jail and running away. He began describing how she disgraced her family, how she jeopardized the future of the Almdor estate, how she hurt Vettis and nearly broke the love the young man had for her.
That was all Myst could take.
“STOP IT!!” She screamed at the top of her lungs. It was not the scream of a frightened girl, but the battle cry of a hardened warrior.
Torvel paused, his mouth open in mid-sentence, his eyes reflecting his confusion; Teeg had stepped back, his hands thrust out before him as though he were prepared to ward off an attack; Vettis stood within the doorframe, his dusky eyes coldly watching the woman he was promised to; and Tair looked up with a vacant expression on her face.
“Tair and I did not come back here so that you could punish us for whatever wrongs you think were committed! I didn’t come back to get married and Tair didn’t come back to be given to the King’s men! We came here to warn you that an attack force of Zyn Beasts is on its way here from Tabaan. They’re hunting someone that stole something from them and they’re destroying and killing everything in their path. Valdine and Tabaan were burned to the ground!
“Tair and I came here with eighteen refugees, all of whom are still waiting at the bottom of the switchback!” She spat that reprimand at Vettis who remained still and quiet. “We came here to warn you that they will be here at any moment – you need to sound the calling bell and bring the workers back! Seal off the road gates! Send someone to Fhaalvak to call upon the Knights of Kaalé!”
Myst fell silent and leaned against the cool bars of the cell, her fists still balled up and ready to lash out the moment one of these idiotic men tried to ‘shush’ her.
“Zyn Beasts?” Teeg questioned. “Are ye’ certain?”<
br />
With a brisk jerk of her arm, Myst yanked loose the drawstring to her tunic and pulled down the fabric to expose the healing slashes caused by the wolf Zyn Beast. “The notches you found on the sword are from its claws,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Oh, my daughter,” Torvel breathed, seeing the scars. He moved a step to embrace his only child, but froze when he saw her flinch. Seeing the disgust on her face, Torvel turned away, his own voice becoming impassive. “I find it hard to believe, daughter, that Zynnashans would pillage and murder anyone they came into contact with just to retrieve a stolen object.”
“It’s a holy artifact, father,” Myst said with a tired sigh. “It is something called a Purestone and they feel the need to punish all of us until they find it.”
“They did come into town with a healer,” Vettis suddenly said. “An Ethaean druid, I believe. She is now speaking with the rest of the council on this very matter.”
Torvel nodded, glancing at his daughter and then to his estranged brother. “Sheriff, have the refugees brought up, give them shelter in the library until we can decide what must be done.”
“Father, the workers…”
“…Are not your concern!” Torvel roared. “I will not sound the calling bell, creating a panic and wasting much needed hours on our harvest until I know for certain!
“I shall return to the council and hear this healer’s story,” he said to the Sheriff. “Vettis, escort my daughter back to my estate where I am sure her mother will be quite happy to receive her. You will wait for me there, Mystrianna.” His voice warned Myst not to disobey.
“What about Tair’Lianne?” the Sheriff asked.
Torvel glanced at the raggedy girl, looking like the same street waif Myst had befriended so many years before. He did not hate the girl for what she was, but he refused to allow her to drag Mystrianna down to her level.
“She remains here.” From the corner of his eye, Torvel saw his daughter begin to protest. “SHE REMAINS HERE!!” he bellowed, pointing at Myst. “I would not care if the Kai’s of Excelicus were approaching with their Nightmare Legion, I will see the law followed in Joram’s Bend! Once we have seen to whatever threat these Zyn Beasts are posing, Tair’Lianne will be judged accordingly.”
Rage of the Diamond's Eye (The Guildsmen Series Book 1) Page 13