Prophecy's Deception: Book 1: Andarean Realms Prophecies Series

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Prophecy's Deception: Book 1: Andarean Realms Prophecies Series Page 16

by AS Hamilton


  Expelling a nervous breath, Linuk turned her blue-gold eyes towards the tunnel opening. She had been waiting for hours. But the may-en-ghi were never wrong when it came to the sensing of spirits. If they told her Leyhera's spirit had been detected with Nisari's, they were not mistaken. Matched with rebel intelligence that Nisari had left Denas unexpectedly, Linuk determined that they were moving Leyhera.

  The may-en-ghi monitored the planes for signs of those rebels Riqumorgia suspected Nisari and Colnba had captured. It had started with Akiryn's disappearance. It had been just before the defeat of Sal-Cirus and the House of Debanikay mage had been travelling alone. His last report had stated that he was near Denas and then he just disappeared with no clues as to what had happened to him. Then Leyhera had disappeared too, along with other key rebels. Riqumorgia said he did not think they had been killed and so he requested the may-en-ghi establish a watch for them. Sarre had later confirmed that he had been kept prisoner in Denas, but he had no contact with any others so did not know of any other prisoners. It was a tedious task with very little reward. Yet it had paid off with Sarre and, now, Leyhera. The may-en-ghi reported that Leyhera's spirit was revealed for only a few scant moments, yet there was no doubting their reliability. But had she chosen the correct route?

  Denas was located between Sal-Cirus and Venshui. That provided two likely cities, yet without more information, there was no way of confirming where Nisari was heading. She had asked her intuition and decided to lay her trap at the tunnel exit closest to Sal-Cirus. She could not afford to be wrong and anxiety filled her. Everything was prepared, but the strain of holding it in place was starting to wear on her. Linuk's nerves were starting to feel frayed, but she told herself that if she held on just a little longer, she would soon be rewarded. Just outside the wards set by Nisari and Colnba to protect those using the hidden tunnel, Linuk had created an invisible box that operated at whatever temporal speed she determined — essentially, seconds would take hours to pass within the area. She had taken a long time in deciding which area along Nisari's path to target. All she needed was Fate's grace that Nisari moved into it. The tricky part would be separating Leyhera… then getting him to safety… and freeing him from the planes-bound cage set about his spirit… then — Linuk stopped herself. She made herself take a slow, deep breath. Her thoughts were dashing headlong through paths irrelevant without an initial success. First, get Leyhera. Everything else she would deal with as necessary.

  Day 4 – Just After Dawn

  Mehani Woods

  (near Dyri Meadows – south-western end)

  Jador looked dazedly about him. The camp was empty. The fire was still there, merely embers now, and blankets still lay on the ground. It was like the rest of the patrol had woken up and walked away, leaving the horses and their packs. Nothing was scattered or out of place. It was quite unsettling to behold.

  He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stretched as he walked over to the fire and extinguished it with water from a pot. It sizzled fiercely and then dissolved into a mushy, smoking mass. He waited for the crackling to cease. When all was silent, he walked to one end of the clearing and listened. He stood for some time, barely breathing. There — he could just hear the creek, trickling almost noiselessly. There — the wind through the leaves, and even an owl yet to make it to its nest. There — the odd snort from the horses and the sound of them shifting as they grazed. After a while, he could even hear them crunching on dry grass. Yet there was no talking, joking, laughing. No stomping or splashing. Nothing.

  Grant's familiar complaints failed to pierce the air. Leon's soft drawl was absent. He could almost believe they had up and left without him, sick of his old-man ways. But why leave the horses? Or the gear? And there was another sound missing, the birds! The messenger birds were gone. A shiver crawled up Jador's back to his neck, causing his hair to rise. He shook himself to be rid of the feeling and turned his attention to the ground. Next to each sleeping place, Jador noted footprints leading into the trees.

  Retrieving his crossbow, Jador started to follow one of the trails. It appeared that each man just got up and walked off. The trails merged after about fifty meters and then a hundred meters later Jador reached a shallow ditch covered in light brush. Beneath the straggly covering was the rest of his patrol.

  Their deaths had been bloody, each one with fatal injuries to their throat. Not that he felt any great sorrow for these men. It was one thing to track down a murderer or face an army able to defend itself. It was another entirely to sweep down on an undefended village and kill the women and children, as these men had done far too many times to count. These men were members of Edgar's group. Despite Daniel's efforts to make the best of the position the Thane had put him in, the two groups never really merged. They had different views on what it meant to be a mercenary. Daniel only stayed now because, Nathan, in his peevishness and cruel nature, might decide to hunt him down for not finishing the job. If the Thane had not done something terrible to Daniel already.

  Jador just knew something was wrong. Daniel was supposed to be checking in with all the patrols, but apparently he was ill. At least that's what he'd been told when they met up with Daniel's patrol the day before yesterday, not with Daniel in the lead, but the Thane himself!

  Having heard of a sighting of the grey and white horse from some peddlers yesterday, their patrol was now closest to catching up with the Thane's elvan. They'd already dispatched a messenger bird to report it to Nathan, who would be along soon, no doubt. The Thane had said Daniel would rejoin them once he was recovered, but Jador doubted his nephew would be with his patrol when they caught up.

  As Jador looked more closely at the bodies, he realised one was missing. Andrew was not here. The boy must have escaped somehow. Jador reflected that his enclosed position amongst the roots of a papinuq tree must have saved his life. Taking in the horrific wounds, Jador thanked Fate he'd been overlooked.

  Could this be the work of the elvan they were after, Jador wondered? After all, they were fairly close to catching up to him. Had the elvan circled back to eliminate the closest threat? If he had, then he'd acquired the aid of an animal. No man could inflict these kinds of wounds, and yet no animal would place the bodies together, take their weapons, and release the messenger birds.

  Jador crouched down to examine two prints in the sandy earth. One was an indistinct smudge, the other was a paw print. He would say it was a large animal, most likely a feline species, but most of them weren't big enough to leave a track this size. It was entirely the wrong shape for a bear. He considered the possibility of a kel-manen, but there would be more prints if the six-footed canine had done the job. A tilgher was big enough, but the equine-like carnivores never left the snowy ranges of their home. Jador glanced in the direction the print was pointing. Whatever it was — it was big!

  Cautiously, he walked in the direction of the print. After about fifteen meters he was rewarded with another and it was accompanied by what looked to be a boot print. With growing nervousness, he followed the trail for half an hour before deciding to go back and fetch the Thane. There was enough evidence to convince him that the animal accompanied an elvan; the length between strides indicated a person of considerable height.

  Suddenly, Jador realised this discovery put him in an uncomfortable position. When he'd been travelling with the patrol, he was ignored for the most part. He'd not actually done any tracking. Now... Now he was in the unique position of having found what he was pretty sure was the trail of the elvan the Thane wanted, but whom Jador felt did not warrant the imprisonment or torment the Thane would put him through.

  Over the turns, he'd tracked hundreds of people, and not all of them were guilty, he knew. Some, he was able to let slip away. With others, there was little choice as the mages who worked for the thanes had a knack for discovering such things and you'd be severely punished if you were caught. Jador seriously weighed up the consequences of just leaving. But then he thought of Daniel. If there was any chance
Daniel was alive, Jador had to find him.

  Perhaps he was not giving the elvan enough credit... The thought was sudden, almost as if it was not his own. Yet, something felt right about it and Jador found himself feeling quite positive as he checked the horses' hobbles and saddled his pony, Jess. Once he lead the Thane back to this trail, perhaps he could plead an old man's discomfort and request to return to Ancoulan for a rest. The Thane might be pleased enough to allow Jador to do so, and then Jador could look into Daniel's absence.

  Day 4 – Morning

  Caradon

  Belon rose from her chair and made her way over to the basin in the bathing room. She splashed some cold water on her face, then towelled herself dry. It was unusual for her to fall asleep after exploring the planes. She had intended to be a few minutes, only to discover upon waking that the sun was well up. Keysjhon had dressed, eaten, and started doing the chores. With Brynn on assignment they found their usually lesson-packed morning much less hectic. She examined her face in the mirror above the basin. My! She looked tired. The lilac colour of her eyes was not as bright and her skin was an unhealthy pale.

  She found her brush and pulled it through knotted black hair, the mauve and gold in it sparking as it caught the light. It was waist length, and Keysjhon preferred her to leave it out. Belon rarely did, normally caging it in a long plait. And for good reason! She winced as the brush caught in a knot. Patiently, she plaited it back, including her raikiwa, which were filled with gems in honour of the lives she had saved. Straightening her ear cuffs, she admired the lilac butterflies formed by the gems in them. Keysjhon had made them for her and the sight of them always made her smile.

  The healer decided she needed some fresh air to wake her up. Shuffling over to the main door, she still felt the planes-bound sleep dragging at her awareness. As she opened the door, the sunlight streamed into the room causing her to squint until her eyes adjusted. Making a soft sound of displeasure, she stepped outside and pulled herself up the stairs to level ground.

  She found Keysjhon chopping wood in front of the forge, which was built into a hill. It had a long, wide retracting dome that raised and shifted back, opening the forge up and allowing the cool breezes in. When closed, it concealed the building with grass and tiny sprigs of meadow flowers.

  On a cloudless, sunny day like this, Keysjhon wore only a thin, white shirt with the usual leather pants and boots that were essential for such tasks. Belon found her irritable mood melt away as she admired him; how he raised the axe with almost no effort, the fluid, strong lines of his form. Despite his height, he did not hunch over. Wisps of pearlescent white hair had managed to escape from his bandana and made her smile, he was always complaining about it.

  Keysjhon must have felt her observation, for after one last strike he pulled back, straightened up, and turned to give her a welcoming smile. 'With you pitter-pattering around like a mouse, who needs sentries?'

  'Indeed, who wants an audience with such beguiling company?' Belon teased in return.

  Keysjhon grin broadened and he laughed, bending to sit on the chopping block. 'How goes he?' he asked, taking his bandana off to wipe the sweat from his face. The pearl and silver in his hair caught the sunlight and glittered: that was the main reason he almost always wore the bandana.

  'Brynn is well. His mission is not without difficulties, but that is as expected. He does not use his talents as much as he should,' she answered, taking a seat on the ground in front of him.

  'Being overcautious, eh?' Keysjhon noted thoughtfully.

  Belon nodded. 'Yes, he uses mostly healing and empath, very little mind-will. I worry that when there is more urgent need, he will not use his more powerful abilities.'

  'Oh, he'll work himself out alright. When he has to, he knows what to do with those talents of his, we've already seen evidence of that. With all the tutors he has, it's normal for him to be hesitant the first time he's on his own.'

  'As usual, Keysjhon, you see the truth of it. He's always had someone there before, just in case. Either that or he's been in places like the intermediatory planes, where he can do no harm.'

  Keysjhon chuckled. 'Yes, I remember well. Quite a time you had getting him to come off those planes, he was always trying to get things just right.'

  Belon smiled at the memory, until Keysjhon continued. 'Although, it was your own fault. You never were satisfied with anything less than perfection.'

  Belon gave her rahn a surprised look. 'I do not recall it that way,' she said lightly.

  Keysjhon grinned. 'Of course not, my dawn. But take it not as criticism, he needed the discipline that attempting perfection would teach him.'

  'Nice recovery,' she teased. 'I could point out that all your lectures on strategy and technique always seemed to leave him in a deep fog, but I would not be allowing for the complicated nature of subjects like war and weapon use.'

  Keysjhon assumed a hurt expression. 'I am wounded by your scathing words, my Belon. You, who have always told me I was such an engaging teacher.'

  Belon gave him a look of apology. 'I meant no ill slight. You were, and you remain, a marvellous teacher.'

  Keysjhon laughed again. 'If you want to be bored by specifics — no, no, do not deny it, my dawn, it was in your mind, if not your speech.'

  'At least he is well trained, let us agree to that,' she proposed.

  'Aye, possibly over-trained by the time, you, me, Linuk, Sarre and Kassan finished with him.'

  'You are forgetting the may-en-ghi. Sala spent quite a lot of time with him on the planes.'

  'Did you know,' Keysjhon asked, adopting an offended tone, 'that Elisana offered to teach me to hunt last eve? Said he could teach me to camouflage myself better, and not make so much noise.'

  Belon trilled with delight at the look of incredulity her rahn was giving her, Keysjhon considered himself a skillful hunter. 'I am sure he was teasing you,' she replied finally.

  Keysjhon snorted, although his grin stayed. 'Aye, cheeky head-dress on paws,' he agreed, referring to the feathery mane that crowned may-en-ghi heads.

  'Speaking of food supplies,' Belon continued, 'I am on my way to the gardens. I want to restock our stores I thought we might have supper in our quarters rather than the dining hall.'

  Keysjhon nodded as he hefted his axe. 'Just try not feed too many carrots to those horses on your way back this time,' he quipped. Belon had a habit of indulging the horses, on one occasion she had promised Keysjhon honeyed carrots, only to have fed them all to 'those paddock-plodding tricksters with their soulful eyes and perpetually-starved expressions', as Keysjhon called them.

  Leaving her rahn to his labour, Belon headed to the gardens. Her thoughts returned to Brynn. Keysjhon was right; they had more than prepared him. He did not just have her training in healing and Keysjhon knowledge of strategy and combat. Linuk had imparted the secrets passed from mage to apprentice. Kassan taught him histories and languages, so he would not look out of place no matter where he ended up. She also added to his sword skills. Sarre taught him archery, horsemanship, behaviour analysis, deception, and matters of the spirit, all skills he would utilise. She should not fret. Still, her heart ached with anxiousness.

  Belon strolled by the grazing horses. They kept the long grass down to ankle height, well, for the most part. The sixteen horses in this paddock barely paused in their chewing to note her presence, causing Belon to smile. She remembered when she had collected Brynn from Ancoulan. That was when he first met Sershja. The charger had still been quite young and Belon thought she was being clever; a young horse should not eat as much as an adult and she would not have to carry as much grain. Little did she know of Sershja's fondness for food and hollow legs!

  Brynn had bought a bag of small, golden apples for the horse and as soon as he presented one they became instant friends. Brynn spoke more to Sershja over that next turn than anyone else. The apple trees he had planted to indulge the horse still bloomed every spring. Fortunately, Sarre had developed a solid bond with Bry
nn and was able to help bridge any gaps in their relationships when needed. She and Keysjhon were too busy being his tutors and parents to be able to be friends with him. The skills they had to impart were too important for anything less than a rigorous schedule.

  All she could do now was watch over him and monitor his progress. Belon continued to the vegetable garden after giving Del-era a pat on the flank. The horse barely noticed her, the only reason he was grazing nearby was because honey-daisies grew there. It would be on her way back that their ears would prick up and they would give her their full attention — she'd have food then.

  She could faintly hear the rhythmic echo of Keysjhon axe connecting and the wood cracking, rippling through the peace of the day. It was like the whole world was patiently waiting, holding its breath in anticipation as the pieces fell into place. It would not be long now, before they were finally called to take up arms and follow the Saviour in completing his prophecy.

  Day 4 – Morning

  Sal-Cirus

  Toormeena had never understood mages. She'd been around them all her life; being a natural seer ensured that. To be honest, she never found the classes surrounding the technicalities of talent as interesting as actual practice. Wearily, she rested her hip against the divan; standing was often too painful without something to take the weight off her injured left side. She did not feel like returning to bed, though she had barely slept. Her mind was too restless for sitting. Gazing sightlessly out the wide windows of the balcony, she deliberately pushed aside the vision that had left her sleepless.

  Her skills exploring paths of the past, present and future were beyond most mages, and often left her feeling isolated and lonely. The visions of the future… They had proved more challenging than her tutors understood. Her sensitivity was strong, which made the visions feel personal, as if she was experiencing it rather than seeing it. Her mother's help with that had been immeasurable. Tooriana was able to show her how centuries of House of Toorian experience could aid her in managing an ability as unpredictable as hers. She missed the support her mother and siblings used to provide, especially when the vision was dire, like this one. Yet, neither her confinement nor the cruelty of her jailers made her regret her actions forty turns ago. And she had been right; Keldon had not killed her.

 

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