by Wilson Harp
“What have you decided?” Daelcor said. “How do we leave her behind?”
“It’s been suggested she not be left behind. That we take her with us.”
“She can’t come with us,” Meleus said. “She’ll slow us down and get in the way.”
“We don’t have a day we’re supposed to return. And she can be of help in the camp.”
“It’s not proper. She’s of nobility and an unmarried, unescorted noblewoman should not be traveling with four men,” Meleus said.
“If it’s a secret that affects her, then she’ll be less apt to spread it,” said Daelcor. “That’s a strong argument for her to come, Meleus. Good point.”
Meleus clenched his jaw and stared at his feet.
“I don’t like it, Meleus,” said Tal. “But it makes sense.”
“What about the horse? We said no horses, so we have to send her back to the city.”
“I can catch up to you on the road once I take the horse back,” Siande said.
The men looked over at her. She had crept closer as they talked.
“She even makes her way into private conversations. Yes, she knows too much to leave behind now,” Daelcor said.
“I agree,” said Tal. “But I want Meleus to accompany her back to the city.”
“What?” Meleus and Siande asked at the same time.
Tal looked at Meleus. “Keep her from speaking to anyone and don’t mention my name.” He then looked at Siande. “Grab a basket and some clothes. Tell anyone who asks you are going to look for mushrooms in the woods just outside the city. Meleus can act as your escort.”
Both Siande and Meleus grumbled but agreed to the plan. Siande wanted to ride back, but Meleus convinced her to walk with the horse.
Tal sat back in one of the camp chairs. “I guess we wait. This’ll be a later start than I wanted, but we’ll still be away by sundown.”
“If they don’t dawdle, we can probably ford the Birnde before we camp. That’ll get us off the road and onto the trail by noon tomorrow,” said Jubaas. “You know the way to the shrine, Priest?”
“Call me Daelcor. I know the general direction. We head up towards Folsit and find the old road north of it. From there, we head up into the mountains. The shrine is near the peak of Mount Mindor, right over there.”
Jubaas looked at where Daelcor pointed. “I’ve hunted along what you call a road, but haven’t been that close to the peak. I had hoped one of you had been to the shrine, but as long as you know about the road and which mountain it’s on, we’ll find it.”
“If you were close to it, why didn’t you go to the shrine?” Daelcor asked.
“When I went with my father on the slopes of the mountains, I was too young to go more than a day from Folsit. We stayed with my grandfather, and always returned before dark.”
“Why?” asked Tal.
“Bears and wolves, mostly. Children are easy prey in small groups, so it’s safer to keep in town.”
“Are they that dangerous?” asked Daelcor.
“Yes, even in a group of men, we must be wary.”
“You said, mostly. Are there other dangers?”
“Men who have abandoned all oaths and prey on travelers or anyone they can find and overpower.”
“Are not the roads patrolled?” Tal asked. “How can these men be a danger.”
“They hide from the patrols, or bribe those they can. It isn’t too bad up that way, but it’s always a concern.”
“So you don’t go up with your father?” Daelcor said.
“No, my father is no longer with me. Nor my grandfather. But I go up there a few times a year. The hunting is good and it’s a place where I can find peace.”
“Why haven’t you gone to the shrine, then?” asked Tal. “Surely you have spent enough time.”
“Yes, but I am in an argument with the gods at this time.”
Daelcor laughed. “An argument with them? How have they offended you?”
Jubaas looked between Daelcor and Tal several times before he spoke. “They stole something from me.”
Tal shivered. He feared to know what the gods stole from this young, serious man.
Delacour’s laughter stopped. “What have they stolen?” he asked.
“My father was fed to the fires of Balket. His tongue had been cut out and he was not given the elixir. He suffered greatly from what I understand. His body turned to ash, his death a disgrace, and for no reason.”
“He was one of the men sacrificed when Galius was killed in battle,” Tal said.
Jubaas nodded. “He was loyal to the king, to Prince Galius, and to the gods most of all. And they betrayed him and took his life. My father would never have loosed an arrow which might find its way to the prince. He never missed his mark, and he would have never betrayed Mestor.”
“That was a horrible day for all of us,” Tal said.
Jubaas looked at the ground. “Indeed.”
“Let’s get the camp ready. I don’t wish to delay a minute when Meleus and Siande return,” Tal said.
The young men packed the things they needed and waited for the return of their companions. Tal fell into thought about Jubaas and his father. As horrible as it was to lose Galius on the field of battle, how much more terrible must it have been for Jubaas to lose his father as a disgraced traitor who had been suspected of killing a member of the house of Mestor?
“They return,” said Jubaas as the sun was halfway down the western sky.
Tal saw the two figures turn off the road and head toward the trees. “Let’s go meet them. We need to start if we are to reach the river tonight.”
Tal shouldered both his and Meleus’ pack and led Jubaas and Daelcor toward the road.
Meleus carried a basket in both hands.
“Hand Siande her basket and take your pack,” Tal said as he approached.
“The basket is heavy,” Meleus said.
“Then she shouldn’t have packed so much. If it slows her, then we can lighten her load, but she is strong and will learn to keep up.”
Siande’s mouth dropped open at Tal’s cold words. She didn’t complain, though, and took the basket from Meleus.
Soon the small band of travelers were on the road and marched at a steady pace toward the north. Tal’s frustration had built during the day with Siande’s appearance and then the revelation of Jubaas. He looked forward to a night of sleep and rest. In the next few days he would meet with the prophet and receive answers. He hoped they would put his mind at ease.
Chapter 9
It was several hours after the sun was down when Jubaas spoke.
“The river’s near. Hear it?”
Tal slowed and tilted his head. He could just make out the gurgle of the river.
“I can’t hear it,” said Daelcor.
“I can,” said Tal. “But only because I’m listening for it now. I’m impressed, Jubaas.”
The scout said nothing as he picked up his pace and moved ahead.
“I hope he finds us a good spot soon,” Daelcor said. “I’m weary to my bones.”
“We’ve only walked half a day,” Meleus said. “Tomorrow will be a full day and we may not reach Folsit.”
“True enough,” said Tal. “And we need to be traveling by the time the sun is fully up.”
He looked back at Siande and suppressed a sigh. Though she had sworn she wouldn’t slow them down, they traveled without the intensity he would have liked to keep her from falling back. But she hadn’t complained, not once. The same could not be said for Daelcor.
“Maybe we should have brought horses anyway. We would be at Folsit and could hire a room from someone.”
“The stars are out tonight, we can sleep without rain,” Meleus said.
“Probably be a stone in my back, no matter where I lay,” grumbled Daelcor.
Tal and Meleus were used to the grumpy priest, but Meleus always tried to make him feel better. Tal knew better than to try, Daelcor would complain the sky was too blue and wat
er too wet if he had nothing else to complain about.
Jubaas appeared from the side of the road after a few minutes and motioned for the others to follow.
“There’s a good site up here, it’s below sight of the road and screened by trees,” he said.
The tired travelers found a deep, but dry, depression among three large oak trees. The gnarled roots of these ancient towers made a wall along half the depression and would protect them from the wind as well as any eyes which might pass along the road at night.
“Get a fire started,” Tal told Meleus.
“No, no fire. Not if we want to go unseen,” Jubaas said. “Tonight will be a dark camp.”
“But what about wild animals?” asked Siande. “We need a fire to keep them away.”
“Not many dangerous animals around here,” Jubaas said. “Too many people travel the road and the farms and orchards near the city are well tended. Bear, wolves and big cats will not bother us tonight. The most dangerous thing would be other travelers, and they would be attracted to a fire, not driven away.”
“We’ll go without a fire on your advice,” Tal said. “Let’s eat and find places to sleep.”
Sleep overtook Daelcor and Siande as they settled into their blankets. The night air was cool, and the ground a little damp, good conditions for a deep sleep.
“Do you need anything else?” Meleus asked Tal.
“No. Please sleep, it’ll be an early morning.”
“I could say the same to you.”
Tal smiled and stretched. “I’ll sleep soon, not something to worry yourself with.”
Meleus found his bed and Tal looked at the stars as Jubaas tended his bow.
“You said you like to shoot,” Jubaas said. “Why? You don’t use a bow in battle.”
“I like the bow,” Tal answered. “I’m good with the bow.”
“Have you hunted with the bow?
“Many times.”
“That’s good. We’ll want to take some small game along the way. We have enough food, but fresh meat is always welcome.”
“Very true. What kind of game is up in the mountains?”
“Rabbits, squirrels, and other small game. Pheasants and geese are common as well. Bigger game too, but we don’t want to slow ourselves down to butcher a deer or boar. Why do you hunt when you can have others hunt for you?”
“As I said, I’m good with the bow. Once I found how much I loved it, I asked our huntsman to let me come with him. We mostly hunt deer or wild bull.”
“What led you to learn the bow at all?”
“General Praset teaches a good commander knows all of the equipment and capabilities of his men. I’ve had to drive the chariots, do spear work on foot, and even shoot the bow. And I truly enjoy the bow, probably above the others.”
“There is wisdom. You are much as I imagined, Prince Taldirun. But surprising at the same time. I’m glad you chose me to guide you. We’ll sleep at the shrine in three nights from now.”
“I think it’s time we found our rest. Morning will come early.”
Tal wrapped a blanket around himself and leaned up against the wall of roots to sleep. He made sure his spear was in easy reach, though he doubted he would need it. The night was quiet and clouds dulled the starlight. He fell asleep thinking about the man in his dream and he hoped he would awaken in that peaceful land.
“Prince Taldirun,” Jubaas whispered. “It’s time to rise.”
Tal opened his eyes and rolled his head to loosen the stiffness in his neck. Meleus had several packs out and was moving items around.
“Is everyone up already?” Tal asked.
“Just the girl still sleeps,” said Jubaas. “Although the priest may have fallen asleep when he went to relieve himself.”
Tal smiled at the scout. Very few men were brave enough to speak their mind so openly, and it was something Tal appreciated. His father would often say a man who doesn’t need your permission to speak to you will be a man who will tell you what you need to hear. While Tal was usually deferred to because of his title, he was not the king. People could speak to him all they wished, though few seemed to realize.
Jubaas was a plain spoken, serious young man and Tal found he liked him quite a bit.
Siande woke as the others moved around the camp and was able to keep up with the rest as they began the day. Meleus had moved some of her items into the others packs, with most of the weight ending up in his. Although a soldier and no longer a servant, Meleus always tried to make life easier for others in every way he could.
The clouds which had dimmed the stars the night before completely blanketed the sky as the morning broke. The smell of rain was in the air, and the threat of a deluge which could fall from the sky hurried the steps of the travelers. The thick canopy of trees in the forest beyond Folsit held the promise of a reasonably dry camp.
They reached the town just past noon, and though Daelcor made several suggestions they stop, Jubaas encouraged them to travel on as far as they could before night. Tal agreed and so they marched past the small walled settlement and started their climb up into the mountains.
Tal was surprised at the small number of houses and other buildings which made up Folsit. He saw maybe a dozen roofs above the wooden wall and the gate was guarded by two old men. Jubaas said many of the houses couldn’t be seen and described them as small wooden structures which were built side by side. Many of the people of the town actually lived in small huts in the woods or far fields where they tended their crops or herds. They would only come to town to buy and sell, or if the horn was sounded and there was a threat they needed to take shelter from. He said even his grandfather would never have heard the horn of Folsit, the area was deep in the control of Mestor and there hadn’t been a serious uprising in over three generations.
The sun drifted behind the mountains in the early evening and plunged the side of the mountain into a deep darkness. Jubaas led them to a place where many of the local hunters would camp and they built a fire. Jubaas and Tal strung their bows and went hunting bringing back several rabbits for dinner.
They spent the night telling stories and laughing. Jubaas even smiled a few times.
“Tell me of the priesthood,” Jubaas said as the camp turned quiet. “You are the first priest I have ever talked to outside of the ceremonies.”
“What is there to say? I spent most of my youth learning the rituals and the portents of the gods, especially of Hondre. When I was old enough, they let me go to the fields of battle where I carried, fetched and generally served the priests who blessed the men before the battle and tended the wounded after.”
“The priests of Hondre always seem so different from the priests of Balket. Do you not all have the same teachings?”
“When we are very, young, yes, but as we move into the rituals and studies of our own duties, the training tends to become distinct.”
“What made you choose Hondre?”
Daelcor laughed and pointed at his eyes. “These decided for me. My eyes are green; as such I was destined to be a priest of Hondre. No noble with green eyes serves in any capacity except as a priest or serene of Rosta.”
“So your parents are noble?”
Tal, Meleus and Siande all shrank back from the fire. Daelcor wasn’t particularly sensitive, but it wasn’t a topic any of them would ever bring up.
“Yes. Well, probably. My mother is a serene of Rosta. She also has green eyes. There’s no way to know who my father is, though I’m sure she would have a fairly good idea. As a serene, though, her children are the children of the temple. If I had blue eyes, I would have been sold off as a servant, but it was my good fortune I had green eyes and so I was raised as a priest.”
“The gods were generous to you, then.”
“I suppose they were. At least Hondre was. I feel like he chose me for one of his own.”
“Do all the priests of Hondre have green eyes?”
“No, very few do. The sons of priests of Hondre have the oppor
tunity to choose to serve him as a priest as well. Nobles will also send their sons to study as acolytes. Very few of us are chosen by Hondre himself with our eyes.”
Tal looked over at Siande. She leaned back from the light and was quieter than normal. Her eyes still fixed on the conversation, she seemed to hide from the others. Tal realized it was because the talk of eye color might make someone ask about her cursed eyes. Brown as rain-soaked, rich, tilled earth they were clear signs the gods viewed her as cursed according to Tumat. Her dark hair was more mysterious and drew more attention, both good and bad, but no one could look into her dark eyes and feel anything but wonder. Tal stared into them as often as he could.
“What of you? Has your family always been scouts and woodsmen?”
“As far back as I know. My grandfather was, and he lived and died in the same town as his grandfather. My father was a good guide and took nobles from Mestor into the woods. They admired his skill with the bow and one day he found himself put into the practice yard with the other bowmen.”
“And even after what happened, you return to serve?” Tal asked.
Jubaas nodded. “My quarrel is with the gods, not Mestor, and not the king.”
Meleus fell over and Tal and Jubaas leaped to their feet.
“Meleus!” Siande said.
“What?” Meleus asked as he sat up. “Oh, I’m afraid I fell asleep.”
Tal shook his head as he sat back down. “Go find your blanket. It’s been a long day and we’re all tired.”
“I’ll tend the fire, my lord,” said Jubaas. “You need sleep as well.”
“Very well, but I will take the second watch. You can’t guide us if you’re asleep.”
“I’ll wake you in a few hours,” said Jubaas.
Tal woke to the sound of breathing in his ear and someone pressed up behind him. His first thought was to demand to know who dared touch him, but then he smelled Siande. He knew she was tight against him, probably because the air was so chilly in the shadow of the mountain.
Tal looked at the sky through the trees and noted it was near time for him to relieve Jubaas. He slipped out from Siande’s arms and stepped to the fire.
“A shame to leave such comfort,” whispered Jubaas. “But I’m grateful someone will keep watch.”