Chronicles Of Aronshae (3 Book Omnibus)

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Chronicles Of Aronshae (3 Book Omnibus) Page 13

by J. K. Barber


  “Oh, I am sorry.” Katya put her head into her hands and began to sob. She yelped when her head hit her palms. The young woman glanced at her hands, and they began to shake as she sobbed. The skin of her fair hands was covered in dark purple bruises, and some of her fingers felt as though they might be broken. “I had the most horrible dream.” She looked again at her hands. “It seems not all of it was a dream,” she whispered, cradling her injured digits.

  “It must have been. I about peed in my pants... thought someone was being murdered,” Niko grinned at her and hopped up onto her knee to pat the velvet of her robe, whether to console her or to simply feel the luxurious fabric again, Katya could not tell. A slight grin creased her trembling lips, which melted away as she considered what might have become of Sasha. The young woman delved into the recesses of her mind and felt for Sasha. Her sword sister was still alive somewhere. Katya did not know how she knew, but she felt it in her heart.

  “No. Thankfully, no one was murdered,” Katya whispered, worry deeply furrowing her brow, “…but something is not right.” The sorceress regarded Niko for a moment, as if wondering if she could trust him. A conclusion reached, she lowered her voice to barely above a whisper, “I fear that my sister is in trouble.”

  “Well, she may be, but….” Niko’s voice cut off as his eyes finally seemed to notice Katya cradling her wounded fingers. “Ooh, those look bad, let me see your hands.” The diminutive Nhyme began poking and prodding her injures. Though it caused her more pain, Katya was somewhat grateful for the distraction from her horrible vision.

  The sorceress was sitting, while gathering her belongings, and checking each pocket in her robe twice, when The Elder approached alone from above. The hem of his leaf robe touched the ground before he did, as he settled onto a root next to the human girl. His gossamer dragonfly wings sparkled in the morning sun, sending tiny rainbows all about him. Niko was gathering some leftovers from her dinner into a large leaf pouch that he had just woven together.

  “Lady Katya, I have heard of your dream from Chyla, and that you intend to leave for home. I never thought I’d say this to a human but I’d like you to please stay.” Katya looked up, while she continued her packing, and quizzically regarded the elderly Nhyme. She’d only been with the Nhyme for a little over a week, and while she had enjoyed her time there, it had been too long. Sasha needed her.

  “I must get to my sister, Elder. I fear the worst, and I should be at her side. Staying here...” she stopped as a wave of nausea made her bend over and place her head in her palms. The Elder put a hand to her cheek, a look of concern on his tiny, aged weathered face. He closed his eyes in concentration. After only a couple breaths, he opened his eyes again. He looked obviously confused.

  “There is no physical reason for you to be ill, child,” the Elder said gently. “Your hands are healed, and I sense no sickness in you. Again, I ask that you stay so that we might find the reason for this illness. Also, I do have a means of checking in on this sister of yours that would give you faster answers than traveling blindly in search of her.”

  Katya stopped putting her herbs into pouches and lifted her head, a tear sliding down her left cheek.

  “Awww, there now,” Niko moved to pat Katya’s head, in an attempt to console her, but suddenly realized that he had a piece of cheese in the hand he was going to pat her with. “OOooOo,” he said, as he popped the white cube into his mouth, thoroughly distracted.

  The Elder shot him a heated look, and Niko stopped his masticating, swallowing the morsel in one guilty gulp. Katya cracked a small grin, despite her distress.

  “Elder, can you do this checking on my sister now?” she asked.

  “I am afraid not, child. I can only scry on the night of a full moon. We shall have such a night in three days. I checked my old traveling maps this morning, and the mountains are about half-a-moon cycle’s journey away. Another few days will not delay you too much, and you will have your answers. Perhaps, you’ll even know exactly where she is, so that you might meet up with her in the least amount of time.” Katya’s thoughts turned inward. Three days, she thought. The vision of her sister choking returned as frightening as before. Half of her screamed to go to her sister, but the other half saw the wisdom in The Elder’s proposition. Years of sorcerer training whispered patience and following wisdom over rash action. The thought of leaving this haven and traveling in unknown regions of the kingdom frightened her. Yes, I would have Niko, but what if we should encounter bandits? He would not fight, and surely I could not hold off an entire band of thugs, especially without my staff to aid my channeling of magic. Yes, staying for now makes sense, she thought.

  Perhaps she would dream of Sasha that night and know that she was okay or... passed. The very thought of Sasha dying made Katya’s throat tighten. A primal instinct told her that Sasha was still alive; the sorceress could still feel her sister somehow. A connection between them had made itself known, once they had been apart. The bond had been forged either through years as a fighting pair or by the fact that they had shared the same womb. Both were feasible explanations. The Elder gazed searchingly into Katya’s eyes, as if he were trying to read her thoughts and brought her abruptly back to the present.

  “I will stay, Elder, thank you,” Katya spoke, her eyes dropping to her feet. Then her gaze lifted again with courage, looking directly back into the Elder’s eyes. “I look forward to the night after tomorrow. I will be ready the moment you call for me.” The Elder smiled and nodded approvingly of Katya’s decision. Niko could not contain himself any longer and hopped and flopped about, falling all over himself like a bird that had just flown into a window.

  “Yay, you are staying!” He exclaimed and then suddenly stopped. “Oh wait I was going with you anyway hehe,” he giggled, “Whoopeee!”

  The Elder and Katya chuckled together as they watched Niko prance about more slowly, his chest puffed out with pride.

  Helping the time pass for the anxious human, Niko took Katya to where they kept the village’s five goats that supplied the milk for the Nhyme’s delicious cheeses. Even by human standards, it was a decent sized pen for the animals located at the southern part of the village. While Niko hopped along the railing of the dirt-packed fence, telling her how well taken care of the goats were and anything one could possibly want to know about the black and white flecked beasts, Katya’s mind drifted to Snowhaven and her sister.

  She leaned against the pen and gazed at the goats with empty eyes. Noticing her lack of attention to his tale, Niko, with a frown, grabbed a small branch, thick with rich green leaves, and hung it over the large pen as if he were fishing. He had one leg pulled up to his chest, as he sat on the rail, and one leg dangling over the inner part of the fence. Katya chuckled when a goat tightly gripped the twig in its teeth, pulling Niko down into the pen with it. The Nhyme flew up and out of the pen, disheveled but soon smiling, as he saw Katya’s eyes once again fill with the light of merriment, even if it was just for a moment.

  “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” Katya asked.

  “Did what?” Niko replied and settled back onto the sorceress’ shoulder, snuggling into the softness of her velvet robe. Katya playfully rolled her eyes but grew pensive again, staring at the goats.

  Dusk came eventually, and Katya went to her mossy bed early, after a small dinner of cheese and nuts. She took comfort in knowing that she might soon see her sister’s image, her condition, and her whereabouts. Chyla had supped with her and now sang a haunting lullaby with a beautiful voice, as she stroked Katya’s hair, the sorceress lying down.

  Niko was already snoring softly in the crook of the human’s arm. Katya sighed and closed her eyes. I am going to miss this place, she thought. The Nhyme are such an innocent race, tucked away from war and strife. One day, with the Elder’s permission, I’d like to return. I am not sure I can keep the Nhyme’s secret from my sister, but I am sure she would agree to keep them safe as well. Good night, little Niko. Good night, Chyla. I shal
l see you in the morning, and we will... Katya’s mind fell into the darkness of sleep.

  Chapter 14

  The next day the caravan left later than planned. With the attack just before dawn, no one was able to go back to sleep, so the early preparations to leave were done sooner than expected. What delayed them, though, was the care of the wounded and the heated discussions between Trades Master Leon and Talas. The former soldier had done a good job of treating Corvan’s injury. Jared had assisted, cleaning the wound before Talas had sewn it up and then locating and preparing the right plants and flowers to help fight off infection. Talas had told Jared that had they not been able to treat him so quickly, Corvan would have bled out before the sun had risen. As it was, the big man was not out of the woods yet; he would require several days of bed rest and better conditions than riding in the back of a jouncing wagon.

  Leon had said that there was a small settlement a day and a half south called Bridgetown, where the road crossed the Bloodwood River. They could leave Corvan in the care of the regiment of the King’s Army that was stationed there. Not everyone was pleased about the leaving part, but agreed. Besides, other than the capital itself, there was probably no better place for the wounded man to be than surrounded by a cadre of the king’s soldiers.

  Word was sent on ahead to Bridgetown about the wounded and the dead. The funeral arrangements for Marcus’ body would be left to the soldiers. Jared had no idea what the customs of Mica were regarding burial, so Marcus would probably be left in a pine box for several days, before he could be returned to his hometown. Talas had said something over Marcus’ still form, after announcing to everyone that he was dead, but Jared had not thought it prudent to intrude. Besides, he was busy looking over Sasha and then preparing one of the wagons to transport Corvan.

  Except for the guards, the rest of the caravan was unharmed. Gabe regained consciousness shortly after the sun rose with nothing more to show than a huge knot on the side of his head and a headache. Talas and Ruharc were both unharmed, having arrived near the end of the fight. Jared’s own wound, a long cut across the small of his back, was thankfully shallow. Talas had sewn it up, once Jared had allowed it. The woodsman was more concerned about Corvan and the others than his own minor injuries, but the old soldier had finally convinced Jared to let him examine the back wound. Many stitches and a slathering of ointment later, Jared was emptying out one of the covered wagons to put in Corvan’s stretcher.

  One of the Traders had come over to Jared, as he was throwing things unceremoniously out of the back of the wagon to make room. The man had had a look of consternation on his face and had seemed ready to upbraid the woodsman. Jared had silenced the man with a heated look and then returned to his labors. The Trader had simply turned and quietly walked back to his tent.

  Concerned about the bumpy travel in the back of a wagon, Jared had rigged Corvan’s stretcher to be suspended by several ropes tied to the sides of the wagon bed. The wounded man would still be jostled by the wagon’s progress, but he would be spared the worst of the bumps and knocks. As they had lowered the big man onto the suspended cot, the ropes had groaned in protest, but seemed sturdy enough to handle Corvan’s bulk. Just as a precaution though, they had filled the space beneath him with piles of cloth and blankets.

  Jared then turned his attention to Hoarfrost, to whom many of them probably owed their lives. After much coaxing he got the large horse to lie down on her side, and Jared was able to examine her hind hooves. Like he had feared, the tender skin of the frogs of the horse’s hooves had been burned, as had some of the hair on the horse’s back legs. Leaning against the horse’s flanks, Jared pulled out of his belt pouch the same leaves and flowers he had used to treat Corvan’s wounds and began chewing them up. Once they had been ground enough, he spit them into his hand and sprinkled them with some powdered herbs. The herbs would add a slight numbing quality to the poultice, while the leaves would help with the burns themselves. Jared gently applied the ointment to the tender injured region of Hoarfrost’s hooves and packed them with cloth. He used the last of the concoction on the small burns going up the horse’s legs and then wrapped them, hooves and all, up to the knee joint.

  Hoarfrost stirred as Jared began to rise, but he put a strong hand along the side of her neck and then sat cross-legged next to her. Slowing his breathing, he reached out to Hoarfrost, asking her to continue to lie there just a bit longer. Feet hurt, Jared sent. Enjoy cool grass more. Run soon. Jared searched his mind for some picture he could send for medicine but found none. Cool mud on feet, make feet feel better. Hoarfrost seemed to consider things for a moment and then lowered her head to lie on the grass.

  Breaking off contact, Jared stood, trying not to wince at his own wound. He put his hand to his back, feeling the dressing that Talas had put there through his linen shirt. He would have to mend it and his jerkin when the opportunity arose, but for now they needed to get moving. It was past noon and he could feel the tension from the Traders. Their livelihood was dependent on their schedule, and they were several hours behind already.

  Jared headed back to Corvan’s wagon to let Talas know that they were ready to move and saw Sasha leaning against one of the wagons, watching him. He involuntarily smiled, seeing her up and walking, but quickly hid it behind his fist, as he mimed a cough. He had thought his new companion dead the night before, the way she had fallen unmoving to the ground, and was as yet unsure as to how her near death had affected him. Hiding his concern for his own feelings, he instead turned his attention to her.

  “You’re supposed to be in bed still,” he said, his voice stern.

  “Yeah, well we were supposed to be on the road hours ago, too,” she replied, her voice a harsh croak. Her hand went to her bruised neck. “Life doesn’t always work out the way we plan, now does it?” Sasha smiled weakly but was overcome with a fit of coughing.

  Jared stepped forward to where Sasha stood doubled over and reached out to comfort her. Drawing his hand back before it touched her, he looked into her eyes as she stood straight once again. His eyes were immediately drawn to the angry bruises along the sides of her throat. Dark and distinctly hand-shaped, the marks belied the fact that she was still alive. Having felt the crushing strength of the creature that had attacked them the night before, Jared marveled that the young woman still drew breath. Jared leaned in to examine her neck once again, while Sasha pointed to the prone Hoarfrost and tried to speak.

  “Is she...” Sasha began to say.

  Jared quickly shushed her, secretly enjoying the look of frustration on her face, as he tilted her head back.

  “I almost wish that thing from last night hadn’t melted once the sun rose. I would have liked to take a look at it in better light.” Jared ran his fingers along the side of the dark purple marks. “There is something strange about this bruise on your neck. Not the least of which is the fact that you should be dead.” Jared took his hand away and hesitated before taking a step back. Sasha lowered her chin to look into the woodsman’s eyes. Jared watched as the light of the sun overhead made Sasha’s, deep green eyes sparkle like emeralds, before quickly breaking the eye contact. “There seems to be some secondary bruising closer to your windpipe,” Jared said and turned away, feigning interest in some noise that came from his right in one of the wagons. “It’s almost as if there was a second set of smaller hands that were strangling you along with that thing. I really can’t explain it.”

  Sasha simply shrugged, seeming to suddenly enjoy that she was under orders to be a mute, and tilted her head to the side. A mock expression of bewilderment crossed her face, as she turned on her heel and began walking back towards the center of camp. Jared shook his head and followed.

  Chapter 15

  “Ouch!” Katya yelled, as she retracted her hands from the injured raccoon. The animal attempted to bolt into the bushes at her sudden outburst, but Lady Amara calmed it with a simple glance, a cool glare that could stop anyone in their tracks.

  “Katya, you will f
eel discomfort when healing,” the Nhyme said, her woven dress of goat fur hanging off one dainty shoulder. “As I said before, when I explained the process. Essentially, you are lending your own life force to that of the person you are healing. The pins and needles you feel, while you are healing, are natural.”

  Katya gawked at the smaller woman, her tone showing much of the impatience of her youth. “More like fire shooting up my hands. As soon as I began to apply the formed energies around the broken part of its leg, it felt like I had put my hands into a lit forge.”

  Lady Amara smiled with seemingly endless patience. “You draw too much energy then. We are not trying to blast an enemy here. Pull less energy. Very little is needed, just enough to wrap around the wound or in this case the broken part of its leg. Try again.”

  Katya sighed heavily and lightly laid her hands once again around the furry paw, bent entirely the wrong way from when it tumbled from the trees above. Lady Amara and Katya had been searching for such an animal with an injury. They happened upon the raccoon soon after its fall, while it was still in shock. It was petrified at this point, its eyes wide in terror at the beasts hovering over it and from the pain in its broken leg. Lady Amara sang to it softly to calm it. Katya couldn’t make out the words, but it lulled even her, quieting her mind.

  The sorceress drew the barest trickle of energy and formed it in her mind, like a small ribbon some of the younger girls in Snowhaven liked to put in their hair. Wrapping it gently around the leg sent sharp pin pricks through her hands and up her arms. Not quite the fire it was before, but the process was still almost painful enough to pull away again. In her subconscious, she saw the break and applied the energy where needed to direct the bone back to its rightful place. Another pair of much smaller hands began to help. Katya spared Lady Amara the briefest of glances, and the Nhyme woman winked at her briefly and closed her own eyes again.

 

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