In the background he heard music, laughter and voices raised, some in joy and others in anger. Loud shouting caught his attention. He saw some of the wizards, including Mecador, running toward the places where the bouts had been held. He whirled to follow.
Cregan stood in the center of the circle. Eight clansmen faced him. Arton gulped. Cregan held a wand. He couldn’t be allowed to use a wand here.
Arton pulled one from his sheath and activated the gem. A flash of light might stop this. He sent power into the wand. He stared at the yellow stone at the tip and tried to draw the power back. A blinding yellow light burst free. Arton dropped the blazing wand.
When his vision cleared, Mecador and two of the other wizards faced him. “What were you thinking?” the chief wizard asked.
“To keep Cregan from using his wand on those clansmen. I thought light would stop him.”
Cregan stomped over. “You fool. I was about to gain us many slaves.”
Mecador glared. “You acted unwisely and prematurely. Go to the tent at once.”
* * *
Cregan watched as Arton gathered his things in his pack. He rolled the mat and left the tent. Mecador hadn’t joined them. How dare his mentor chastise him for what he’d attempted? He would have won the challenge, adding eight slaves to his catch. Then no one could deny his right to sit on the council.
He scowled. What had Mecador meant by the remark about acting prematurely and unwisely? A second question popped into his thoughts. What had caused the blinding light? He’d wondered if the sun had exploded. What had Arton done? Cregan laughed. If he could learn the secret, he could lead the wizards instead of his father.
Mecador carried a basin into the tent. He dropped cloths into the water and squeezed them dry. He placed them on Cregan’s burned skin. “There’s an herb in this to draw the pain. Why didn’t you let the guards oil your body?”
Cregan shrugged. “The guards are former clansmen. I feared they would harm me, especially when Arton has their favor.”
“Stow your fear. You will win, but this must appear to be a real contest.”
Cregan sighed with relief. “How did Arton raise that brilliant light?”
“I don’t know. Neither does he. His wand and the stone completely disintegrated. “Pack your things. We leave for the citadel at dusk. To linger could bring trouble and a fight we’re not ready for.”
Chapter Three
Lorana stood with the other women of the hareem facing the grille into the outer courtyard and watched the wizards leave the citadel. Not all the wizards joined the line of men. She raised her head and studied those on the wall walkway. Three council members remained, ten second level wizards, and all the younglings except Arton and Cregan. There were also a dozen guards.
The beating of her heart changed from slow and steady to rapid pounding. She clamped teeth on her bottom lip to keep joy contained. An inner knowledge filled her thoughts. The time to escape was near. Tonight she would complete her preparations and stash everything in the fyrethorn thicket. Leaving tonight tempted her, but the wizards would be too close to the citadel. They could return and use their wands to find her. Three of those who departed had kissed her. She feared that touch would aid them in locating her. She must wait until they were gone for days.
The last of the men left. The heavy wooden gate closed.
“Girls.” Hag Mother clapped her hands. “While they were gone we will clean the citadel from the cells to the towers.”
Lorana heard groans from the other women. She hoped by remaining silent she would be assigned to a chore that wouldn’t exhaust her.
“Lorana, take the younger girls to the storeroom. Have them clean the shelves and organize the shelves. Check carefully for pests and vermin. Remove all contaminated material. You know how to mix the herbs to drive these creatures away.”
“Yes, Hag Mother.” Lorana bowed her head. She couldn’t have asked for a better job. A dozen gifts moved to her side. She explained what they were to do. The giggles and chatter made her smile. She opened the storeroom door and assigned each of the girls to a row of free standing shelves. To prevent discovery of her escape route, she chose the shelves nearest the secret exit.
Before starting to clean her area Lorana found two sets of herbs. One for ants, flies and other such creatures and the second for rodents. She mixed them in pots. Later she would light them to smoke the room overnight. Though that meant she wouldn’t be able to enter the storeroom tonight. Hag Mother would suspect any escape plan if she left them unlit.
How long would the wizards be gone? She thought of the time last spring when the wizards had gone to the clans. For several of those days she had been fevered. Days had passed without her knowing how many. She would plan for ten or twelve, giving her a window to make her escape.
She stopped to inspect the work of the younger women. She checked the items they had set aside to be tossed. Among them she found a travel pack with a strap to be mended. She also noticed a second water flask and a sling with a pouch of metal balls. She tucked them in the pack and went to her area. She pushed her spoils into a deep corner of the shelves.
Once the young women finished their work, she inspected each row. She instructed them to carry the contaminated articles to the main room. They carried the items away. Lorana asked Hag Mother for a taper so she could light the herbs. She finished and closed the door.
After eating the evening meal of stew and bread, Lorana went to her sleeping cell. She wished she could visit the storeroom and carry what she had found to the tangle. Alas, she had to wait.
Tomorrow night she would make that visit. She fell asleep and ticked off a day of waiting.
The next morning she returned to the storeroom with two of the older women. They cleared away the dead vermin and insects. While cleaning the shelves she found a roll of heavy thread and several long needles. She could repair the strap of the carrying pack she found yesterday.
Once all had settled for the night, she crept to the door and scurried to the storeroom. She pulled out the pack, added the thread and needles, grain, some dried berries, and thorns for the dragon.
Lorana opened the secret door. As the wall closed, she had a moment of panic. Darkness closed around her. She drew a series of calming breaths and braced a hand on the wall. Step by step she moved forward until she reached the end of the tunnel and hit the opening sequence.
With care she stepped into the open and turned to watch the opening close. She recalled the night she’d had to find the pattern for the return. A dozen tries had finally yielded the combination.
The air outside held the promise of freedom. Not tonight, but soon. A breeze ruffled her hair and kissed her face. A glance at the sky showed the moon approached full. She ran across the grass and up the hill to reach the tangle. Fortunately clouds covered the moon. She found the hidden way to the center of the cluster.
As she slithered along the passage, she avoided the thorns. She reached the clear space in the center. When she had discovered the twisted path, she had believed she was the first person to enter this area. The tangle was unlike the neat rows of bushes she remembered from her home. She left her spoils and returned to the citadel and to her cot in her sleeping cell.
Voices woke her. She rose, dressed and went to the common room to eat her porridge. Hag Mother assigned her to join the women scrubbing the basement cells.
The gloomy area caused her to shudder. She thought of being held in the cells for months after her arrival and her only attempt to escape. She had promised to obey the wizards, and she had done so until now. In this very cell she had found the scrap of paper leading her to the secret exit. For almost four years she had worked to gain Hag Mother’s trust so she could access the possible escape route.
By the time evening arrived, she was too tired to eat more than a few bites of stew. She dragged herself to her bed. Four days had passed since the wizards had left.
I can’t sleep. I must stay awake. She lay on the cot,
and every time she drifted away she pinched herself. Before long the usual noises from the outer room had ceased. Her body tensed. Someone was in her room. She forced herself to relax.
“She’s asleep,” a woman said.
“We will work her this hard tomorrow and every day until they return,” Hag mother said. “She has all the signs of being a runner like that woman who climbed the grille and tried to force the outer gate open. My son will be most displeased if she isn’t waiting for my grandson.”
The women left. Lorana couldn’t stop shaking. How many more days must she wait to make her break? She slithered across the room to the doorway and peered into the common room. Hag Mother entered her sleeping chamber. The other woman, the second in control of the hareem, sat in a chair directly in front of the doorway of Lorana’s room. She returned to the cot.
Three more days passed while she scrubbed corridors. She lay on her cot and drew deep breaths. She had to leave tonight. She listened for sounds. The moment she heard snores from her watcher, she slithered past the woman and crawled to the storeroom door. Cautiously, she opened the door and slipped inside. For a time she sat with her back against the wood.
Finally she rose and slipped on her boots. She ran to the hidden exit and slipped into the passage. Fear brought tears to her eyes.
Move. She couldn’t collapse now. She pressed her hand against the wall. The solid rough surface infused her with strength. She walked through the deep darkness, reached the end and emerged from the citadel.
The moonlight seemed as bright as the morning sunlit sky. No clouds occluded the stars. She pressed against the wall. She couldn’t return to the hareem. Reaching the tangle and hiding there was her only chance to reach safety. She dropped to her knees and began to crawl. Every few yards she halted and peered at the citadel walls, waiting to hear a shout from one of the guards. By the time she reached the bushes, the moon had sunk low and pre-dawn lit the sky. She collapsed. Her head pressed against the ground. She was so tired, but she had to continue.
With care she threaded her way along the path through the tangle. The way seemed longer than she remembered. Her knees felt as though rocks had settled beneath the skin. Her stomach ached. Once in the clear area, she reached for one of the flasks and swallowed a sip of lukewarm water. Then she swallowed repeatedly to keep from spewing. She curled into a ball and dove into sleep.
Shouts woke her. She heard men calling her name. The sun showed mid-morning. She crept to a spot where she could peer through the leaves. Two wizards searched the area. She swallowed. Had she left a trail?
“We must find her,” an elderly wizard said. “Mecador will be furious.”
“Not to mention the havoc this will bring to the council,” a second said. “With no female for a reward, the council will remain divided.”
As the men moved around the fyrethorn bushes, she heard footsteps crushing the fallen thorns. She prayed they wouldn’t notice the hidden path to the interior. Her only hope lay in the fact few wizards would risk being poisoned by the thorns. After a long, long time the searchers left.
When sunset arrived she ate cheese and one of the thin crisp breads. When she finished she repaired the strap on the travel pack. Though she should sleep she couldn’t chance missing her chance to flee.
If anyone realized she was here, would they destroy the tangle to reach her? Other than herself, Arton was the only one with total immunity to the poison. A number of the wizards had endured small doses. If stabbed by a thorn they would become ill but they wouldn’t die. She prayed for a cloudy night to aid her flight.
* * *
Four days after they left the gathering Cregan paused to catch his breath. They had left at night and made camp near the rocky outcropping closest to the oasis. Leaving like thieves had angered him. The wizards had enough power to easily destroy both clans.
This day he had outdistanced the others and was glad to be away from his companions. They had witnessed his failure. If he had been allowed to use his wand to stun the clansmen, he could have gathered more slaves for the traders. Arton’s interference with the burst of yellow light had ruined Cregan’s chance to win this testing. Being second to that foreign baseborn man adopted by a wizard unable to sire a son brought fury to the surface.
The walls of the citadel drew closer. Cregan drew deep gulps of air. Once his breathing slowed, he glanced over his shoulder. Though reaching the gates first wouldn’t count in the competition, being first would boost his spirits.
A short time later he reached the gate. When he saw one of the younglings acting as gate guard he halted in surprise. “Where are the guards and the wizards who remained?”
The boy pointed. “Out there.”
“Why?”
“She’s gone.”
“Who?”
“The one who was to be the reward.”
Fury settled in his chest. How was this possible? Who was her ally? “Boy, run and fetch them. Mecador will arrive soon. He will demand an explanation.”
While he waited, he examined the road for the arrival of the chief wizard. How had Lorana vanished? She couldn’t manage an escape on her own. She was only a woman.
Moments before Mecador and the others arrived, three wizards of the first rank and all but two of the second reached the gates. Cregan held a wand ready to use. “I’ve been informed Lorana is missing.” He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms.
Mecador reached his side. “What do you mean she has vanished?”
The fattest of the council members who had stayed behind faced the chief wizard. “We do not know how she escaped.”
Mecador pointed to the guards. “You four take the slaves to the cells. Order Hag Mother to tend and mark them.”
As soon as the line of men entered the citadel, Mecador drew two guards aside. “Go to the harbor. Search the area for signs of her presence.”
Cregan’s forehead wrinkled. “Why?”
“She might try to escape on one of the ships when they arrive for trading.”
Cregan bit his lip and held back words that would anger his father. He thought Lorana was wiser than to make a fool’s choice. The traders were far kin of the wizards.
“Council members, to our chamber.” Mecador gestured to Cregan and Arton. “You will add your power to the search and learn how to use your wands to find a person.”
Cregan grinned. Searches were a technique he wanted to learn. He followed the council members into the meeting room.
The twelve members gathered at the table. Cregan and Arton stood at the foot. “Wands alight,” Mecador ordered. “Candidates, add your power.”
The light from the white fyrestones remained steady. Did Arton’s move or had that been an illusion? The white light from the blended wands made a connection between them. With a sudden flare the lights died.
“We will find her,” Mecador roared. “No reward has ever escaped.”
Four guards appeared in the doorway. Two were men sent to search for Lorana and two were those who watched the shore for traders.
“Two trader ships near the shore. A small boat arrived at the dock. The ships will remain but for two days.”
Mecador lowered his wand. “The search for Lorana must wait. We will prepare for trading.”
Though this choice didn’t please Cregan, his father’s decision was right. The supplies purchased would see them through the winter.
* * *
Arton felt his wand waver and tilt to the east. As he tried to figure what the movement meant, the light in the stone died. So did the stones of the other wizards. He waited for Mecador’s rage to subside.
The guards arrived and shouted the news of the trader’s arrival.
“The search for Lorana must wait,” Mecador said. “We must prepare for trading.”
The announcement shocked Arton, but he knew the chief wizard had made the right decision. Without the goods received the people of the citadel might starve come winter.
Arton left the council roo
m and hurried to the basement pens, where Hag Mother attended to the bout losers. His prisoners had been washed and their tanned skin oiled to enhance their muscular bodies. All wore breechcloths and each bore a tattoo of a wand on his chest. Arton arranged them in a row and checked their sandals to make sure of a proper fit. He wanted no injuries to bring down their value.
He climbed the stairs from the gloomy basement. He encountered one of the guards who had remained. “I have some questions about Lorana.”
“Can’t tell you more than I told the wizards when questioned under the wand. They spoke to all here and no one knew a thing.”
“I understand, but your answers might help when the search resumes. Mecador won’t let this go. When did she leave?”
“Maybe two days ago. Hag Mother was livid. The entire citadel was searched. Then the questioning began.”
Arton frowned. “Was a search of the grounds made?”
“Twice.”
“How did she leave the citadel?”
“Remains a mystery. The gate was locked. If dragons still existed one could have swooped in and carried her away.”
“There are no dragons in this land. Are there secret passages in the citadel?”
The guard shrugged. “If there are none has been found since the wizards arrived and slew the dragons and their riders.”
“Thanks for the information.” Though he hadn’t learned much, he did know she hadn’t been gone for long. How far could she have traveled in two days? He strode away and wondered where she could have gone. Before long winter would bring cold winds from the north. She must be found before then. He doubted she survive when snow and ice covered the ground.
He ate a light meal of meat, cheese, bread, and fruit they’d brought from the gathering. When he finished he joined the other wizards in the outer courtyard. The slaves and carts of other trading goods were assembled there. To Arton’s surprise and anger two of the four young women taken for the hareem were added to Cregan’s two slaves.
Wizards of Fyre (Island of Fyre Book 3) Page 4