“Any skill they have with the Essence is moot! A Mah’Sukai will not be created until the Essence wills it. We simply need to keep attempting to Meld the Humans with it until we succeed. Then we will know it is ready.” The Prince stopped abruptly and turned on the teacher. “Or would you prefer I sacrifice members of our own race? Mayhaps you are willing to undergo the Melding yourself in their stead? Become the first Elmorr’Antien Mah’Sukai ever in the history of the Plane? Alas, if the Essence is not ready…”
Taking a step back, Delmith looked on the brink of fleeing. “No, my Prince! I was suggesting no such course!” The Vanria looked over his small group of students and did not look happy.
It is as if he regrets something he has done or is about to do.
Delmith’s gaze came to rest on Quiln. “Mayhaps the other Ro’Arithian would be a better choice.”
Waving a dismissive hand, the Prince turned and walked into the hedge-maze. “A whore’s son will not be missed should the worst happen, that is why we decided to bring him here. I will leave the details to you and we will attempt the Meld upon my return within the tenday.” The Prince’s voice trailed off as the two withdrew deeper into the hedge-maze. Delmith’s response was too faint for Alant to hear.
“Why do you hold your chest?” Shaith’s words gave Alant a start and he cut his eyes at her.
The Tarsith, no longer cold, fell back against Alant’s skin when he released it. “Did you hear that?” He made no attempt to keep the fear from his voice.
“The Elmorr’Antiens? Aye.” Quiln sat back down on the bench and started eating once more.
Looking at the boy as if he were mad, Alant thought he might never eat again. “Are you not worried? What is the Melding they spoke of?”
Shaith cocked her head to the side. “What do you speak of, Alant?”
Alant stared back at her, puzzled. “The Melding they just spoke of.” He waved his arm in the direction of the hedge-maze. “It sounded like nothing I would want to try! Even Vanria Delmith looked frightened!”
“Have you no heard them speak before in their own tongue?”
“Own tongue? They were speaking in the Human tongue.”
She giggled. “Mayhaps you be sick, Alant. Their tongue flows like the script of the finest calligrapher, more akin to music than words. And it do have a way of tickling the mind, yet that be no Human tongue they did speak.” Cocking her head again, her jade-green eyes twinkling, she reached out, took his hand and pulled him down onto the grass next to her. “You need to finish your food. Class starts soon and I no want to hear your stomach growling.”
Casting a quizzical look over all three of them, he retrieved his food basket from the ground yet did not eat.
The others, they did not understand. Yet I did!
Reaching a hand to his chest, he placed his palm over the now warm Tarsith. Sier Sarlimac’s words flooded back to him. ‘Few have returned from the training unscathed. Some have even perished.’
What have I been thrust into?
Arderi Cor awoke with a start. A bright glow filled much of the dark sky. The crackling of a massive fire drowned out all other sounds, and a sickly-sweet smell penetrated his nostrils. Sitting up in the small tent, he was pleased to note that he felt no pain in his arm. Reaching out a hand, he flexed his fingers and experimentally rotated his shoulder.
The break is healed! Whatever was in that Oolant drought is amazing!
Sliding out of the tent, Arderi stood and took in his surroundings. Through the hazy, pain-filled memory of the past day, he realized he was still on the lakeshore. The small fire Master Rillion had started earlier that morn had smoldered out and now lay cold and forgotten. Cresting the small rise, Arderi saw that a large fire took up much of the center area that was once the site of the base camp. Its flames licked high into the air and burning embers raced over even the tallest trees standing nearby. The silhouette of two men stood some distance off from the fire itself, and Arderi recognized the outline of Jintrill next to Clytus. Heading over to them, it surprised him that neither turned at his approach. A sudden understanding of the situation broke over him, and with no wish to break the silence, he quietly joined them in their vigil by the fire.
This is a funeral pyre. All those men; Master Gartin, Mir’am Trilim, Alimia, gone.
For long moments, the three stood in reverence, watching the blaze. The wood crackled and popped as it bore the essence of those who had fallen here to the aftermore.
“We must be on our way.” Clytus broke from the group and headed toward the lake. “This large a fire shall attract attention that I do not think we can handle.”
Looking at the Shaper, Arderi saw that the young man seemed different, older. The grim look now set into the Sier’s jaw had not been there before. Noticing Arderi’s stare, Jintrill nodded to Arderi, then followed after Clytus. Arderi took another few moments to watch the pyre before he joined them.
Away from the rubble that used to be the base camp, several packs lay in a pile. Clytus shrugged one over his shoulders as Arderi arrived. “I set the horses free. They can not go where we are headed. Each of you lads grab a pack. I salvaged what I could while I cleared the dead from the debris. We have enough food to last us at least a moon’s span. Now that I know a Drakon is nearby, that should give us enough time.”
“Enough time?” The Shaper’s voice carried an edge. “Enough time for what?”
Master Rillion looked hard at the Sier for several moments. “Enough time to finish what I came here for.”
“You cannot be serious! You intend to continue? Surely, you must see that all is lost! The only choice left to us—”
Grabbing the young Shaper’s robe and choking off his words, Clytus lifted him by the neckline. “All is not lost!” Master Rillion’s growl came out ferocious, like that of a wild beast. Arderi stepped back, grateful he was not the object of the man’s anger. “The only choice left to me is to finish what I came for!” The Commander shoved Jintrill away, causing the Sier to stumble and land hard on his rump. “Go if you wish! I never wanted either of you along to begin with!”
Arderi quickly stepped between the two. “Master Rillion, sir. We will not survive out here alone. Neither of us have the skill. Do not blame the Sier for his fear, the Gods know I am afraid as well.”
Bowing his head, Clytus ran a hand through his hair. “Nix, I do not blame you, lad.” Raising his head, he looked directly into Arderi’s eyes, and Arderi saw death within their depths.
It is not what is out there that I need be frightened of, it is here in front of me.
“I have paid much, too much. Yet I will pay more if needs be. My son, Sindian, will die unless we succeed here.” Pulling out a small pouch, Clytus produced a strange metallic object. “This is a collector. We are here to collect the blood of a Drakon. Within the creature’s blood is the Essence needed to cure my son.” He wrapped the device and returned it to its pouch. “Only my death will stop me from continuing. Neither of you have to join me, there is food enough in the packs for you both to return home. Yet, I will not leave these mountains until I have what I came for. The choice is yours as to what you will do.” Brushing past Arderi, Clytus headed up the slope that led deeper into the jagged peaks of the Nektine.
Arderi watched the man for a moment before turning his attention to the Shaper. Leaning over, he offered a hand to Jintrill and helped him stand. “We will never survive without him. I am not sure the man is still sane, however. I do not mind admitting he scares me as much as being in these Gods forsaken mountains alone.” With that, Arderi bent over and picked up one of the packs. Under it sat a sword that he recognized at once.
Master Gartin’s blade!
Kneeling, Arderi brushed a hand over the worn leather of the scabbard. He stared off in the direction Commander Clytus walked, and did not think the man had even looked to see if they were following him.
Dropping his eyes to the sword once more, thoughts of the grizzled old weapon’s master flooded into him.
This sword has seen so much, I do not feel I would be worthy to hold it if I left the Commander alone out here on his own. Master Gartin surely would not!
Rising to his full height, he glared at the Shaper. “If it is your intention to head toward home, Sier, you will be doing so alone. I will not abandon Commander Rillion.” Spinning on a heel, Arderi started off at a brisk pace up the slope.
“Wait!”
Arderi heard the rustle of a pack and the swish of the Shaper’s robes.
“Wait on me, Arderi. I am coming as well.”
A grim smile came to him. Arderi did not stop his steps, yet he cut his pace to a walk.
Sweat ran in rivulets under Klain’s thick fur as he raced over the land. Traveling on all fours, he easily kept pace with the mare galloping next to him. It had taken a long time for the horse to get over its natural fear of the Kithian. Even now, tearing over the open field, the creature stank of fear, and would roll the occasional wild, wide-eyed glance in his direction.
His sword, resting in its odd shaped scabbard and belt, slapped against his side with every stride he made. It still humbled him that the Honored One, Sarshia, had bestowed such a gift upon him.
The sheath of this sword allows me to run unhindered on hindpaws or on all four with equal ease.
The sword, made from some type of metal with black veins winding through it, held an edge better than anything he had ever seen.
It is razor sharp, and I have yet to hone its edge!
Glancing at Charver, riding high in his mare’s saddle, Klain saw the elation of the young boy-cub as he spurned his mount on.
It excites him to think he can win this race.
Breaking from the line of fruit trees, Klain slowed his pace just a bit once the buildings in the back of the Vimith villa came into view, allowing the horse a step or two lead. The pair tore onto the dirt road leading to the stables, Klain trailing, and slowed only after passing the edge of the furthest building.
Dust billowed into the air as Charver pulled hard on the reins and the horse’s hooves dug into dirt, sliding to a stop. “Ha! I have beaten you!”
Rising onto his hindpaws into a more Human-like stance, Klain jogged to a stop and swiped a paw at the air in front of him. “Aye, Young Master. Yet you have a fresh mount, and I have run all morn. Still, you ride the animal with skill.”
Slipping from the saddle, the boy-cub landed lightly upon the ground. “I have had my own horse since I was four.”
“Young Master Vimith!” Although Klain knew the voice of the Human who yelled at his charge, he still could not stop his hand from straying to the hilt of his sword. Nor did he soften the glare he gave to the man striding out of the stables toward them. “You will not treat my horses so if you wish to keep riding them.”
Taking hold of the reins, Charver walked the animal to the stable master. “I am sorry, Mir’am Rist, I was caught up in the race.”
The old stable master hobbled over and snatched the reins from the boy. “Be that as it may, you cannot go forcing a horse to slide to a halt without a good reason! Have you forgotten all the lessons I gave you? What if she broke a leg, or worse, threw you and broke your fool neck.” At the sound of Klain’s growl, Rist spun and glared at Klain. “And you keep your fangs to yourself! I have tended this lad since he wore swaddling clothes. I will not coddle him just for your sake!” Tugging on the reins, Mir’am Rist led the horse into the stables.
“Race you inside!”
Charver dashed for the back door of the villa. Reaching out, Klain snagged the boy’s arm, halting his progress. “I think we have had enough racing for one day. Let us walk for a time.”
“Oh, very well.” The boy led the way onto the patio area. “It is about time for halfmeal. You hungry?”
Smiling down at the boy, Klain wondered which of the two of them ate more. “Aye, Young Master, I could eat.”
“Wait for me on the patio and I will have the servants bring us something.”
Watching the boy jog off, Klain continued into the shaded sitting area and sat on one of the comfortable chairs arranged around the large stone table. Charver returned, trailed by a serving girl, and before long both sat munching on trays of food.
Wiping a sleeve across his mouth, Charver took a long drink of water from his mug. “You run really fast. I wish I could run that fast.”
“You are not built to cover ground like me, Young Master. It is not your fault for being Human.”
“That is true! Still, I would love to be able to outrun a horse!”
Klain’s hackles rose when he caught a smell floating on the wind. The scent let him know who was approaching long before he heard the booted steps upon the tiled floor of the patio. “Well, well. I am glad I found you, beast.”
Jumping up before Klain could react, Charver shot Satner Timms a defiant look. “My father has already told you not to call Master Klain that!”
Grunting, Satner propped a foot on an empty chair. “Oh, aye! Alas, Master Vimith left this morn for Diamond Point. He will not be back for at least a tenday.”
Charver looked shocked. “Really! How is it you are still here then?”
Raising a hand, Satner coughed into his fist—not a very convincing cough at that. “I seem to be a little ill. Master Vimith thought it better I stay behind.” Turning to Klain, he snapped his fingers as if just remembering something. “Oh, Master Klain.” Shooting a glance at the boy, Satner rolled his eyes. “Master Vimith left word that he wanted you to go into town with one of my men and pick up a particularly valuable item from the Merchantillian this day. Said it was might important and he wanted his best protecting it.”
From the corner of his eye, Klain noticed Charver trying to catch his attention. He chose to ignore the boy-cub. “What is this item?”
“Well,” Satner drug out the word and waved a hand in a mock show of disinterest. “It is not for the likes of us to know the details of our Masters, now is it beast!” Shooting a look at Charver, he grinned.
Moving his hindpaws with a deliberate slowness, Klain rose to his full height and looked down on Satner. Even though Satner would be considered big for a Human, his head stopped just below Klain’s shoulders. “With Master Vimith away, I could not possibly leave young Master Vimith alone.”
“Pah.” Satner reached over and ruffled the boy’s hair. “I will look after the lad. Tis no bother at all.”
Reaching up, Charver took hold of the man’s hand and pushed it off. Looking back at Klain, he shook his head and mouthed for him not to go.
After a moments pause, Satner pulled his foot from the chair and started to walk away. “Fine by me, beast. Still, it was an order of Master Vimith’s that you go.”
Looking down to the boy, Klain knew he had no escape. He also knew the boy-cub would be safe here at the villa, no matter what Satner’s plan. “When am I supposed to leave?”
Stopping, the bodyguard turned and smiled, wiping a hand across his bald head. “Narn is saddling up his horse as we speak. He will be leaving within a quarter aurn.”
“Tell him I will meet him out front.”
Nodding, Satner turned and slipped between the plants that kept the patio area well shaded. After he left, Charver reached over and put his small hand on Klain’s paw. “Do not go!” His whisper dripped with fear. “I have never heard of father requesting such a thing.”
Sitting back down, Klain indicated that the boy do the same. “Neither you nor I know that for certain. If I go, and find that it is a waste of my time, I will see that Satner regrets the ruse.”
“Please, Master Klain, you do not know these men as I!” The boy bowed his head and stared into his lap. “I have told you how sorry I am for helping them gang up on you your first day.” Looking back up, Kla
in saw tears in his eyes. “You are more than a guard to me. You are my friend.”
“Each of us has duties. If I have learned anything during my time with you Humans, it is that. Your father, Master Vimith, has been more than kind to me over the past tendays. I will not dishonor him by neglecting his request.” Raising a paw, he stopped Charver’s interruption. “Even if I think it is not a real request.” Standing, he adjusted his sword belt. “You will be fine while I am away. Of that, I am certain. What happens to me is of no concern.”
“Yet, if this is a trap?”
Raising his upper lip, Klain exposed his front fangs. “If it is, I will deal with it.”
A piercing screech cut through the air sending a shiver slicing through Arderi Cor. The high-pitched sound ricocheted off the cliff wall that rose on their right to disappear into the clouds above. The screech sounded much closer than before. Arderi felt the tension in the young Shaper, Jintrill Deln, who stood next to him holding Master Rillion’s sword, Dorochi, in a tight grip. His head swiveled about as he tried to catch a glimpse of the creature they pursued.
Or that pursues us.
They had ascended the side of the mountain for nearly the entire day, following narrow goat paths where they could—climbing where they could not. Even though they had climbed for aurns, and Arderi was certain they walked higher than any man had the right to be, the top of the rocky peak was lost from his view overhead. Master Rillion was a man obsessed. Since they had abandoned the destroyed base camp three eves prior, he had not paused in his hunt of the Drakon. He did not force Arderi nor Sier Deln to follow, yet what choice did they have?
We would not survive out here on our own, that is for certain.
Arderi and Jintrill stood in a small, thin copse of pine trees that had somehow found root on the rocky ledge. Both of the young men leaned heavily upon a tree, gasping for breath that evaded them for some reason. Arderi looked at Clytus who had stepped onto a small outcrop some ten paces away to survey the open sky and valley below.
Farmers & Mercenaries Page 30