Shawna Thomas

by Journey of Dominion

  “That’s not fair. I didn’t know you were a woman. I’d never...” He paused and glanced up at the night sky. He wore a lopsided smile when he faced her. “I’d probably never steal from a defenseless woman and besides, obviously, you’re not one of them.”

  Ilythra rolled up her bedding. “A woman, or defenseless?”

  “Oh, you’re definitely a woman.” There was obvious appreciation in Mohan’s tone.

  She would not blush again. She’d enjoyed the conversation, but it was time for information. She clenched her jaw and then released a slow breath. “And?” Ilythra leveled her gaze on Mohan until the mirth died from his eyes.

  His tone dropped a notch and the lines of his face hardened. “I’m tracking a man.”

  The intermittent light of dawn filtered through the trees and played over Mohan’s features. His tanned face was smooth, except for a sprinkling of creases around his eyes. Eyes that commanded attention, so blue they put the skies to shame but with a quality that made her think they’d seen more than the scant wrinkles suggested. He was slender, but with broad shoulders and a well-muscled frame. She already knew, after unbuckling his scabbard, that he had little fat on his body. As the light increased it infused his clothes with color. A dark vest topped his bright yellow shirt and purple leggings. A Benai. She hadn’t heard they traveled alone, but then Mohan was the first she’d ever met. Something about him drew her, and she didn’t think it was only his good looks and witty banter.

  Zeynel had said Teann’s promptings could come as strong hunches or even desires. If so, the lifebreath of creation, through which everything moved and had being, and the force that powered her stone had been silent. Until now.

  “A man?” she prompted.

  “My brother.” Mohan gathered sticks she’d piled near the clearing’s edge the night before and fed them to the fire. The Benai possessed an innate charm with an edge, as though the civility was a veneer and his savagery lay just below the surface, waiting to be released.

  She placed her hand on her chest, feeling the familiar contours of the pendant she wore. “Why?”

  “Because he’s missing.”

  “Is he of age?” A disharmonious note rang through Teann, as though someone misplayed an instrument. Zeynel, her mentor, had been right. The stone had become a part of her. She read Teann as she read the skies and the movement of the seasons. It flowed through her veins. Because of this, she knew beyond a shadow of doubt Mohan was keeping something from her. And that it didn’t matter. Her decision was made.

  “He wouldn’t leave his family. My brother is special, a gifted poet.”

  Concern wove through his words. Mohan was genuinely afraid for his brother. The stirrings of Teann grew stronger. Ilydearta beat in time with her heart, alive. “Teann is a language, but not one of words. It speaks as the wind through the trees, water over stones. You will feel it in your bones, know it from the depth of your being. It will guide you and bring light where there is none.” She could almost hear Zeynel’s voice. Since leaving the Faisach several springs before, she hadn’t sensed the urging of Teann as strongly as she had when the thief neared. For a moment as he approached her clearing, she’d thought it might be the trader—the red man and keeper of another stone. It was wishful thinking.

  She’d been traveling north since Zeynel had suggested it before he died. She needed to find the Siobani and then reunite the stones. It was a task her grandfather had given her before he died. She shook her head. Zeynel would have said it was a task appointed to her by the One, the maker of all things, even the stones. She had a feeling her trek was about to be diverted.

  “And that’s why you tried to steal Tashi.” She shrugged her shoulder. “There’s a certain nobility in that.”

  “I have never been called noble.”

  “Really?” Ilythra stroked the pendant through the cloth of her tunic and rose to her feet.

  Mohan rubbed his short beard. “He didn’t leave of his own accord. Tarak’s simple but he isn’t stupid. He needs the family. He can’t survive alone and he doesn’t do well with people.” His jaw clenched. “He probably doesn’t even understand what’s happening.” He shook his head. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.”

  “I do.”

  “Why?” A subtle anger deepened the lines around his eyes and created more around his mouth.

  A man of many layers. Interesting. “How long ago?” Ilythra began to pack.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Packing. It’s morning. You thought I lived here?” She finished with her bedding then stood and waited.

  “A half-moon ago.”

  Ilythra let her gaze rest on Mohan.

  “He’s still alive. Somehow I’d know if he weren’t.”

  “Makes sense.” She nodded and kneeled in front of the horse. “Come on, Tashi, lift up.” Ilythra removed the simple figure eight hobble and stowed it in her leather pack. When she turned, Mohan was still staring at her.

  “Just like that. You believe he’s alive because I said so?”

  Ilythra moved to the tree and pulled the knife free, stowing it in her boot before kicking dirt over the fire. “Because you said so. And because he’s your brother and you are linked with him. Now if you want me to help you, I suggest you come on.” She offered him his sword, pommel first.

  Mohan watch her, his jaw slack. Emotions flittered across his face faster than she could follow. He moved forward to take his weapon and strap it back in place.

  She nodded at the weapon. “Can you use it?”

  A twinkle grew in Mohan’s eyes and a corner of his mouth curved. “I’m skilled with many weapons.”

  “Your rapier wit being one of them? I hope you’re better with a sword.” Ilythra answered his grin. “I assume since you were attempting to steal her, you ride.” She jumped on Tashi’s back.

  “Of course I do, but I’ve never ridden behind anyone.”

  “You have a problem riding behind a woman?”

  His grin grew into a smile. “Not me, milady. I like a woman who can take charge.”

  He settled behind her, his chest pressed against her back, warming her through the cloak. He placed one hand casually on her hip. Ilythra reached back and removed it. “You couldn’t have stolen her.” Ilythra directed Tashi out of the glen and toward the trail.

  “No? Why?”

  “Though she may wander from time to time, she wouldn’t stay with you. Even if you’d been successful, which is unlikely, she’d find a way to come back to me.”

  “You sound quite certain of that.”

  “I am.”

  “I don’t know. I can be fairly charming when I set my mind to it.”

  “And when you don’t?”

  “Then I’m not.” His voice was flat.

  “Tell me about your brother. You said he was special?”

  “Why have you offered to help?”

  “Do you always answer a question with a question?”

  “Do you?”

  Ilythra sighed. She’d learned that to share her task, to speak of the Siobani and the stones, was to be treated with suspicion laced with fear. She had to temper her words when it came to Teann and Ilydearta. It made finding clues to the Siobani’s location difficult, if not impossible. “It’s what legends do, rescue the distressed. But I need to know where we’re going and what we’re going into. What happened?”

  Mohan was quiet. She could almost hear him think; perhaps weighing how much he should trust her.

  “Listen, if I can help you, I will. But I can also just as easily continue my journey. It’s up to you.”

  “A half-moon ago,” Mohan’s voice changed as he spoke, grew deeper, rough, “we met up with a group of traders. My family is Benai, traveling entertainers, as you may have guessed. It’s not un
common for us to travel short distances with the traders but we prefer our own company.”

  And so do the traders. Ilythra mused. Although there is safety in numbers and the Benai offered entertainment, they had a bad reputation not entirely undeserved. The traders didn’t want to be associated with them too closely. Bad for business.

  “We camped on the outskirts of town and entertained the people for a few days while the traders bartered their wares. The morning after the traders moved on, I couldn’t find Tarak.” Mohan shifted behind her. “That wasn’t unusual because he often wandered the countryside. But when he didn’t show up for supper, I searched for him until dark. The next morning I set off again, prepared to find a dead body, but there was no trace of him alive or dead. When I returned to our camp, my uncle had sobered up enough to remember that he’d seen Tarak with the traders. I tracked them to a little hamlet not too far away. One of them said he thought he’d seen my brother traveling with a noble man who’d been staying above the tavern in town. He told me in which direction they’d left, and I followed but soon lost their trail. I returned to my kin, but when I heard the rumor that a poet entertained the nobles in Jartas with his prose, I knew it was Tarak. I didn’t want to move my troupe and give the kidnapper warning so I set off on my own. We have no horses to spare.”

  “And Jartas is quite a distance away,” Ilythra finished.

  “Yes.”

  “Your kin are important to you.”

  There was a long silence before Mohan answered. “They are my family, tied to me by more than blood.”

  “And you are their leader.”

  She could feel the warmth of his breath against her neck as he exhaled. “No. We have no leaders, but I sit in council.”

  “An elder’s council?” Ilythra smiled over her shoulder. Mohan didn’t look much older than thirty summers.

  “Guides.”

  She waited.

  “We call it a council of guides. My people have no need for rulers. We’re free.”

  In that word free, Ilythra felt transported back in time to the warmth and comfort of the Faisach, the Heleini—and Tobar’s arms. Tobar would have spoken with the same pride were she to have asked him about the Heleini, his tribe. Warmth flooded her chest as images danced in her mind’s eye. Tobar’s dark eyes and satin skin. His smooth, rich voice as the stars swirled in the desert night, “You are now blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh. You are Heleini.” A small scar on her arm itched. A permanent reminder of where her blood had flown to mix with all three Akiers, the leaders of the free tribes. My blood brothers. She swallowed, focusing on the present. The man behind her wasn’t Tobar and his kin were not the Heleini.

  For too long, she’d felt like she was wandering without a purpose. She still headed north as Zeynel had instructed, healing from town to town, but Teann had been quiet. Her goal, finding the Siobani, receded as the seasons passed. She absently rubbed a knotted ring on her finger. She still missed her mentor with a pain that seemed physical. One day she would find the man who took Zeynel from her, and when she did... She closed her eyes. She needed to find him for more than revenge. The trader was the keeper of Crioch, the stone of Dominion. She’d been drifting with only a general direction in mind, but as Mohan told his tale, she could feel Teann at work, leading her to Jartas.

  “A noble man traveled with the traders?”

  “For a short distance, according to the one I talked to.”

  “Is that usual?” In her experience, it wasn’t. At least not farther south.

  Mohan was silent for a few moments. “Not unheard of, but usually the nobles keep to themselves.” He exhaled, warming her neck with his breath. “I know Tarak is in Jartas. I wouldn’t have left my kin unless I thought I could return with my brother.”

  Ilydearta’s hum had become a part of her, like her heartbeat, and she no longer took notice of it. But now it throbbed against her breast, and Ilythra didn’t believe in coincidence.

  Finally. Would it be a clue to the Siobani’s whereabouts or the traders? Although Zeynel had cautioned her, she had a score to settle with Crioch’s keeper. She cleared her voice of emotion. “Then we’ll find your brother quickly so you can go back to your people.”

  Chapter Two

  Tashi’s steady, comforting rhythm beneath them was a counterbalance to tension spiking in her body every time Mohan’s body brushed hers. She closed her eyes. Teann moved around her, swirling, beating, breathing. Her mentor, Zeynel, had called it the lifebreath of the universe, an extension of the One. Zeynel had moved through it as easily as the air around them. Maybe one day she would too. For now, she could ride its winds, let it beat in her veins. For a moment, she allowed her world to expand. The forest they rode through bloomed with life. Her awareness ebbed and flowed until she was one with the wind as it played among the trees then soared into the heaven, whispering to clouds before dissipating before the stars. She was aware of Mohan but as a vibrant beat to the harmony of life. A jarring note broke the symphony and it scattered like ash blown on the breeze. Crioch. Since she’d come close to the stone in the mountains of the Faisach, she was always aware of the stone. Always distant, always calling.

  As she often did when she rode the winds of Teann, she could almost hear Zeynel’s voice. “Ilydearta harmonizes with Teann. It uses the keeper’s skills, intuition and knowledge in accordance with Teann to create balance. However, the opposite is also true and much discord can come from misusing a stone.

  “Further, each stone was created to work with one another. Apart, their power is diminished, balance interrupted. That is one reason they must be reunited. You are Ilydearta’s keeper. The first in many, many seasons. Indeed since the Siobani held the stone many lifetimes ago.”

  “Do you ever eat?”

  She opened her eyes. “Excuse me?”

  “Do you ever eat?” Mohan asked again. “We’ve been riding since daybreak and damn it, I’m hungry.”

  Ilythra glanced toward the west where the sun blazed behind a thin filter of clouds. She was hungry too. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re demanding?”

  “On the contrary, I’ve been described as quite generous.”

  Ilythra could hear the smile in his voice. She veered Tashi to a break in the trees. Mohan slid off the horse and stepped aside for Ilythra to do the same.

  “Are we camping here?”

  “I thought you said you were hungry.” Ilythra removed the packs from Tashi’s back and rubbed the horse down with a rough cloth.

  “So I did.” Mohan clapped his hands and then routed in his bag. “I hear a brook nearby. How does fish sound?”

  Ilythra shrugged. Fish always sounded good. Catching it was another matter. “Okay.”

  Mohan pulled out a thin string and dangerous-looking hook. “I’ll be back.”

  Ilythra smiled. “I’ll have the fire ready for you. Do you want me to set some traps just in case?”

  Mohan’s face grew serious. “I never disappoint.”

  She schooled her features, ignoring the seductive undertones of his comment. “So you say.”

  “So I mean.”

  “Then off with you. I’m hungry.”

  Mohan disappeared into the surrounding forest. The trees were far enough apart to allow them ample room to move around but close enough to provide shelter if the wind picked up in the night. Which it would.

  By the time she heard Mohan’s step, she’d already seen to Tashi’s needs, started a fire and set up her lean-to. She watched him approach. He held up two large fish.

  “The conquering warrior returns.”

  “Just a simple hunter, milady.”

  “I’ve known you less than a day and I already know you’re far from simple.”

  Mohan offered the already-cleaned fish to Ilythra. “Perhaps you have a gift of foresight?�
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  Ilythra shook her head. “I wish.”

  “Be careful what you wish for—the gods are listening. Start these. I’m going to wash up.” Mohan headed back toward the river.

  Ilythra found two long sticks and with her knife, sheared off the outer bark, spit the fish and balanced them on two larger rocks toward the outside of the fire.

  “By the gods, what are you doing?” Mohan exclaimed when he came back into camp.

  Ilythra looked up. “Cooking the fish?”

  “Destroying it is a more apt description.”

  Ilythra glanced from the fish to Mohan. What was he talking about?

  Mohan shook his head, rummaged through his pack and then neared the fire. Gingerly, he removed the fish from the heat and inspected the insides. “Good. No great harm done,” he muttered. He pushed herbs inside the fish and then with a long bone needle sewed the fish shut, re-spit them and placed them back near the fire.

  Ilythra sniffed. The faint smell of pepper and onion made her stomach rumble.

  “I thought you were a healer?” Mohan asked as he rotated one of the fish.

  “I am.”

  “And you don’t season your food?”

  Ilythra shrugged. It was a fair question. She’d never enjoyed cooking; it was a necessity. Besides, what herbs she had were for healing, not eating.

  “Once, when my clan traveled with the traders, we came across a yellow fruit. Oh, it was beautiful. Tart, juicy...worked well with fish.”

  “A lemon?” Ilythra sat down next to Mohan.

  “Could have been called that. I don’t know.” He took a deep breath. “We traded for a barrel of them, but of course they’re long gone. I saved a few of the seeds and convinced a settler to plant them, but when we came back around he said nothing ever came of it. I still think of them sometimes.” Mohan turned the other fish.

  “They’re grown on the south side of the Sulang Mountains.” Ilythra stared into the fire, seeing the endless desert and the nomads who lived in them. She faced Mohan, chasing away the memory. “The southeast has abundant water from the mountains but maintains the heat of a desert. That’s where they grow.” She looked around. “This is too wet, not warm enough.”