Chapter Seven
The stars whirled in the heavens. It was an ancient dance, full of beauty and grace. Bredych ignored it. He concentrated on the song of Ilydearta. Ilythra definitely was still the bearer. The stone carried her nuance. Pure blue light vibrated. Music. Once, a long time ago, he’d marveled at the beauty of the songs, stood in awe of the majesty of the stars, of the intertwining cycles of life, but no more. He’d learned even beauty disappoints, and music can seduce you into compliancy. He’d not fall victim again.
He was his own master.
The song rose and fell. She used the stone. It was weak, almost indistinct, as it had been when he’d felt her on the Faisach. He wasn’t even sure she was aware she was using it. She had an instinct of it. As he had. Zeynel had failed her. She could be so much more...
Bredych had offered her power, a place by his side. He would have opened up the world to her, opened her eyes to things she didn’t even know to imagine. Together, they could have owned the world, and she’d rejected him. He slammed his hand on the wooden desk and opened his eyes. His study surrounded him—the books, tapestries and furnishings all familiar. He wouldn’t journey that road for a second time.
Ilythra wasn’t in Greton valley, but she wasn’t far. Where are you?
He was nothing if not patient. She would lead him right to her.
* * *
Pink light tinged the eastern sky as the stars disappeared into a sea of deep blue. The tunnel grew from a jagged black line to an almost vertical opening in the mountain. Cool air, laced with a mineral tang, brushed her face. She stared into the fathomless dark and shuddered.
Ilythra turned to the prisoners. “We have to go single file. No noise. There are guards on the other side. Each man should put his hand on the shoulder of the man in front of him. I’ll take the lead. Mohan and Res, you take the end.” She stared at the two men. She’d debated the positioning. If the Rugians attacked, there would be helpless prisoners between her and the fighting. Mohan and Res would be on their own. But there were guards at the other end of the tunnel too. Mohan gave her a hard look but kept his mouth closed in a thin, disapproving line.
The prisoners did as they were told either out of fear or from ingrained habit. How long had it been since some of them had seen their homes? She narrowed her eyes, listening for any indication of movement inside the cave. The faint drip of water sounded from deep within the darkness. She shuddered. Last time, she’d had Mohan’s sure touch. This time, people were depending on her.
She took a breath and stepped into the darkness. Switching her sword to her left hand, she ran her fingertips along the wall to her right. It grounded her, helped her dispel the illusion that she was floating into nothingness. She hated the dark, the feeling that the mountain was pressing down on her. She was blind and lost.
Acid coated her mouth. Her heart beat a staccato rhythm. She reached for her water skin, forgetting it was nearly empty, and panicked without the wall to guide her. The man behind her tightened his grip on her shoulder. She didn’t know if it was meant to be a comfort, but it was. She’d just faced an army of Rugians—a dark cave would not be her undoing.
They would stop once at the lake to drink. If she was thirsty, the men had to be too. She almost smiled. Mohan would wash his face and hands. She’d never met a more fastidious man in her life. The image gave her the strength to take one more step, then another. The soft sound of shuffling feet echoed behind her. They should all be in the tunnel by now. Had the Rugians recovered? The hair at the back of her neck tingled as though expecting the bite of a blade. Her hand tightened around the sword handle. Every instinct screamed that they had and were even now in pursuit. And that they would move a lot faster than the prisoners had. She bit back panic. She was in no condition to face an army of Rugians. Did Mohan know how weak she was? Was she leading these men to their deaths? Ilythra struggled not to pick up the pace. Several of the prisoners were barely walking. They wouldn’t be able to keep up.
Ilythra focused on the darkness before her, one hand trailing on the moist rock wall. That wasn’t her only problem. At least two, possibly more, men waited for her on the other side of the cavern. Could she face them alone?
She closed her eyes and pictured Ilydearta. She’d come this far; she’d find a way out of the cave and down the mountain too.
* * *
Gustav leaned against the wall. “Too damn cold to stand out here, doing nothing.”
His companion sipped from a tin cup. “Orders came from Telig. He’s got ears everywhere. I wouldn’t be saying that out loud, if I was you.” Isak nodded toward the two men across the fire.
The sun rose in a blaze of glory, highlighting the rock of the mountain and revealing pink striations in the stone. He’d always thought it was pretty but would never admit it to anyone, especially Isak. He turned attention to the other men. They sat chatting quietly as though they were alone. A breeze ruffled the fur collar of the one closest to him. He smoothed it down with leather gloves that looked softer than anything Gustav had seen or felt in years. Their boots didn’t even have patches.
“Damn Bolchat, privileged boys with men’s swords,” he whispered. “Let ’em serve here for a few seasons and they won’t be so proud.”
“Quiet, Gus! Who cares how they earned their swords? They got ’em and know how to use ‘em. You’ll find one separating your head from your body if you’re not careful.”
Gustav sipped his drink, observing the two across the fire. “They said thieves?”
“That’s the story.”
Gustav fell back as the wall disappeared behind him. Flashing silver emerged from the cave. He dropped his cup as liquid sprayed his face. Wiping his eyes, he saw Isak’s head separated from his body and staring at the night sky, eyes fixed in surprised stupor.
The sound of metal forced his gaze away from his friend. A swordsman held both the Bolchat at bay. Gustav stared, stupefied, as one of the men fell. Was this the thief they watched for? The other lunged before the attacker pulled a sword from the dead man’s body. The thief crouched, sending the Bolchat tumbling into the dust. When he stood, the hooded cloak fell away from his face.
Gustav’s eyes grew wide. A woman! She pivoted, slicing the Bolchat’s throat before he regained his footing.
Fumbling for his own weapon, Gustav approached the woman. Somehow, she’d harnessed the stars in her gaze. Her eyes shone hard and fierce in growing light. Gustav threw his sword at her feet and dropped to his knees. “Mercy.”
The woman kicked the sword away. She swore under her breath.
“Mercy,” he repeated this time in the tongue of Anatar. She approached like a cat, silent and deadly. He raised his head a fraction. Dark hair coiled down her back and power radiated from her body like the ocean around an island. “Thira, goddess of war.” Wonder filled Gustav as he gazed at the fire in Thira’s eyes. To see one of the gods was an honor he hadn’t expected. He bowed lower to the ground. “I’ve served you my whole life. What have we done to offend? Instruct me, I will do what you say.”
“The man you do serve is a monster,” Thira said. She reached out, and the world faded.
* * *
Ilythra wiped her sword on a dead man’s cloak and struggled to catch her breath. She’d had surprise on her side. The Rugians hadn’t expected an assault to come from the cave. She glanced at the unconscious man. Thira? That was a name she’d never heard. Exhaustion weighed down her limbs. The last of her reserves were fading fast and they couldn’t rest yet. She moved to the tunnel, where she’d told the prisoners to wait. “Hurry. Out!”
They squinted in the light of day, but Ilythra placed a hand on their shoulders and directed them down the pass. They’d been slaves for so long that some of them no longer had a will.
Finally Mohan emerged from the cave, glanced at the four prone men and shook h
is head. “I see. Last time was a temporary act of generosity. You are so selfish. Keeping all the fun to yourself.”
“It was a toss-up who got to have the fun.” She glanced at the prisoners. “We need to get these men off this mountain as soon as possible.”
The last of the prisoners filed out of the cave. Ilythra closed the door.
He nodded. “What’s the plan?”
“I don’t have one.” She stared at the men. Hopelessness trickled through her mind, increasing her weariness. Had she led them out just to see them all slaughtered? She gripped Ilydearta through her tunic. A way out.
“I see.” He scratched his face. “You were kinda on a roll.”
“Yeah, I know.” She rubbed her forehead with the back of one hand. She needed to make a decision fast.
“We take them back the way we came. Down the mountain toward the forest.”
“Sounds good to me.” She faced the group and raised her voice. “I won’t lie. The Rugians will be after us soon. We’re following the road for a little while. As soon as the incline is low enough to climb, we’ll climb it, get off the road and head down the mountain as fast as we can. The strong help the weak.” She surveyed the group. None of them looked very strong. A few had already started walking down the trail.
Mohan placed a hand on her shoulder, his stride matching hers. “You did it.”
“No, Mohan. We did it.” She squeezed his hand. “But we’re not done yet.”
* * *
Aclan breathed a sigh of relief. Konrad’s voice carried down the hall, and he knew Bredych was with his father. He seemed to run into the counselor at every turn. It had taken longer than he’d imagined to get the steward alone. Bredych had claimed he was staying at the castle until his father recovered, but Aclan didn’t believe it. It felt as if he was being watched, weighed and judged. He hadn’t been able to sleep more than a few hours each night, and even then he’d had nightmares. He’d feigned a more-than-usually-petulant attitude, claimed his wounds from the wolf attack were bothering him. But Ilythra had done an excellent job. Besides feeling like a hunted rabbit, he was as good as new.
Footsteps receded down the corridor. Aclan peeked around the corner. “Konrad, I’d have a word with you.” He used his most imperious tone, mimicking his cousin Lucin, just in case someone was watching or listening.
Konrad looked up from the ledger he carried. An expression of weariness crossed his face. “Yes, Your Highness. What can I do for you?”
Aclan approached then looked down the hall in both directions. “I’ve been to see my father.”
Konrad startled then relaxed. He held his face in a neutral expression. “I’m sure that was beneficial to him.”
“I hope so. There is enough going on that is not beneficial to anyone in this realm.”
Konrad paled. Fear darkened his eyes. “In here, boy.” He yanked Aclan into a deserted room in an action that, had anyone seen it, would have gotten the steward flogged. Once the door was closed, Konrad spun Aclan around and leaned close. “What do you know?” he whispered, but his eyes shone with intensity.
Aclan matched his tone. “Not as much as I like. As I think I deserve to know. My father says he let Ilythra go. He warned me about Bredych.”
“He did?” Surprise widened Konrad’s eyes and lifted his brow. He straightened, letting go of Aclan’s tunic.
Aclan nodded.
“Then there is hope.” Konrad stared at the ceiling, his lips moving in a silent prayer. When he again looked at Aclan, his eyes shone with purpose. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t think your father is suffering from grief, and every warrior who was with him on the day he went after Ilythra has disappeared.”
“It’s Bredych.” Aclan’s stomach soured.
The steward’s eyes widened slightly. “Don’t get involved. This is dangerous. He is dangerous.” Konrad had never looked so stern.
Aclan straightened his tunic. Anger brought his chin up. “I am still your lord, prince of Greton. In two summers, I will be of age. Do not treat me like a weak boy. Don’t you think I know my life is in danger?”
Konrad lowered his gaze. “Forgive me, Highness.”
He waved a hand. His anger evaporated. “We really don’t have time for that. Father said I should come to you.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I think his tea is drugged with something. When I sniffed it, my mind suddenly went blank. I forgot why I was there. I wish Ilythra was here to tell me what.”
Konrad stared into the distance. “I heard Bredych send some of his Rugians after her. Your wish might come true.”
Aclan suddenly felt overwhelmed, out of his depth. Everyone he’d counted on to make decisions for him was gone. “Cassia. Where is she?”
Konrad shook his head. “She’s upstairs and guarded. I don’t know what her involvement is, but it isn’t safe to try and see her. Go to your rooms and wait for me. I am being watched but I know this castle better than anyone. I’ll get free and meet you there. We’ll talk more then.”
Aclan nodded. A sour taste filled his mouth. He suddenly knew nothing was as it seemed.
* * *
Ilythra helped the last of the prisoners to scramble up the incline. It had taken longer than she liked to find a place they could all climb. She cast another anxious glance at the pass behind them. Time was running out. She could feel it in her bones.
Res approached her. “Everyone has a companion. I did my best to match a strong person with a weak, like you said.” He nodded toward the rocky mountain. “But with no road, we’re bound to be slow no matter.”
Ilythra trailed after the line of prisoners, Res at her side. “Better here than on the road in broad daylight.” The sun warmed her back and reminded her they only had two water skins for almost three dozen people. Of course, even the poorest tracker would see where the band left the road, so maybe water was the least of their concerns. She scanned the terrain. Nowhere to hide. No way to make the prisoners go faster and no hope of help from anywhere. If they could get to the forests, they’d split up and lose the Rugians. Only some of them will get away. She shook off the guilt that came with the thought. What else could she do?
“Breathe.” Mohan placed a hand on her shoulder.
She smiled up at him. “That obvious?”
He shrugged. “You have given them a chance. It’s more than they had before.”
Res cleared his throat. “Speaking for the lot of ’em, I’d agree with ’im.”
Everything had happened so fast, she hadn’t even thought to introduce the two men. “Oh, Mohan, meet Nenya’s husband, Res. Res, meet my good friend, Mohan.”
The men nodded at each other.
“Your wife is a special lady,” Mohan said.
“That she is.” Res looked toward the horizon. He turned to Ilythra and Mohan, his eyes glistening. “You gave me a chance to get my life back. Even if that life ends today, it’s more than I had before.”
Ilythra nodded, her throat thick with emotion.
“This is what you had to do in the mountains. Why Teann was leading you,” Mohan asked.
“I think so. Yes. It was.”
“Well, you look even more tired than I feel, and we can’t stay on the mountain for long. So now’s a good time to tell me it’s leading you somewhere else.”
Ilythra opened her mouth to reply then froze. Her blood ran cold. The thump of boots sounded in the pass behind them. “Run!”
Chapter Eight
The door opened slowly. Aclan rose to his feet. His heart thumped irregularly in his chest. He’d stayed close to his chamber as Konrad had suggested, but the waiting was grating on his nerves.
Konrad slipped in the door. Aclan let out a breath.
The steward bowed and let out a lon
g breath. He wrung his hands together. “Your Highness. I share your concerns about your father. But there is little we can presently do.”
Aclan was afraid he’d say that. “I want to see Cassia. Where is she?”
“She’s being kept in a chamber on the fourth floor. She is being accused of aiding a traitor to the kingdom.” Konrad hesitated, then began again in a softer voice, “There has been talk of execution. But I do not think she can help you.” Konrad shook his head. “I was there, at least for part of it. She tried to keep Ilythra from leaving.”
“Why would she do that?” Aclan rubbed his temples. “Ilythra once told me she was teaching Cassia about herbs. Maybe she knows something that can help Father.”
“Why would she do that?” The gleam was back in Konrad’s eye. Aclan recognized it as anger mixed with fear. “Because she’s working with Bredych. She is not loyal to you or your father.”
“But she has information I might need.”
Konrad’s gaze was appraising. “You are determined to do this?”
Aclan nodded.
“Even though it puts you in danger?”
Aclan hesitated then nodded again.
“You know there is very little chance the girl has any information that could help you, and if she does, even less a chance she’ll share it with you.”
Aclan breathed out his nose and clenched his jaw, staring at the steward.
“You have grown up much too fast.” Konrad sighed and his body seemed to shrink with the exhalation of breath. “I can make sure her guard is Greton, not Rugian, and then I will distract him.” He sounded tired.
Aclan shook his head. “Before my mother died...” Grief still tightened his throat. “She warned me to remain unobtrusive. When she was gone, I began to observe the people in the castle. Really watch them. It was like I woke up. I started growing up then. I am not so foolish as to think I don’t have a lot still to learn.”
“You will be a good king one day.” Pride shone from Konrad’s eyes.
Journey of Wisdom Page 7