Not that Fes thought he could actually attack the emperor. He might have some connection to Deshazl magic, but he barely knew how to use it, and the emperor was rumored to be one of the most powerful fire mages alive, likely with a collection of dragon relics so extensive that Fes would never get close to him.
Movement down in the camp caught his attention.
As Fes watched, a pair of people headed away from the campsite. They wound through the valley, heading around the hills to the east. From Fes’s vantage, he could tell that hill would eventually lead back in his direction—and back toward the city.
Had he read this wrong? Could they be a part of the city?
Backing away from the peak of the hill, Fes crouched down and began to make his way toward where these others would appear. He could watch.
Maybe he would find something valuable.
The number of travelers bothered him. If it were a smaller band, he could envision them as nothing more than merchants, or even simple travelers. In the months since he had abandoned the capital, he had come across dozens of such travelers. Numbers like this were unusual.
He had encountered something like this before, though these people didn’t strike him as the rebellion. Why would the rebellion be so close to the fire mage temple?
Maybe the same reason that he had been so close to the fire mage temple.
The rebellion valued the dragon relics the same way that the empire did, though they revered them, taking the priests’ value of the bones as their own. Though not all of them. The rebellion was happy to use the relics, something that he hadn’t found to be the case with most of the priests.
Fes kept himself low, monitoring the sweep of hills, and almost jumped when the pair appeared below him. He needed to be more careful. He knew they were there and were coming in his direction, but he’d still been startled.
Dropping to the ground, he stayed in place. If he were lucky, they would head right at him, and he would have the opportunity to hear what they might be saying.
They passed barely a hundred feet in front of him. Had they been looking, he wondered if they might see him, but they weren’t looking for someone lying on the ground, and with his dark cloak, he was shielded.
They were quiet as they walked. Any hope he had of overhearing what they might be saying was lost.
He could follow them, but they were making their way in the direction he had just come from, and he didn’t want to return until he had some way of helping Jayell.
Fes decided to return to his perch on the top of the hill where he could watch the campsite. Morning was coming, and he would be able to see more and perhaps get a sense of which direction people would be heading. Maybe they all would be making their way back toward the city with the fire mage temple. If that were the case, then Fes would be lucky to have avoided their attention.
As he reached the peak of the hill, dropping back to the ground and looking down at the campsite to see that nothing had changed, he rested his head on his hands.
When something poked his back, he gasped.
“Who are you?”
It was a low voice, barely more than a whisper.
“Nothing but a tired traveler,” Fes said.
“You aren’t armed like a traveler.”
Fes wanted to roll over to see what he might be dealing with but hesitated. It was possible there was more than one person. If it were only a single man, he would be able to escape without hurting someone, but even taking on one person might draw the attention of the camp down below.
“The road is dangerous these days, so it’s only prudent to be prepared.”
“You traveled alone?”
What was the right answer here? If he admitted that he was alone, he could envision this man taking advantage of it, attacking him. If he lied and claimed others were with him, he might be dealt with differently, but it was no less risky. “I’m alone.”
That answer at least explained the number of weapons he had on him.
“Stand up,” the voice said.
Fes got to his knees and stood. He turned slowly… carefully… before coming face to face with three people standing atop the hill. The lead man carried a pointed stick. He was older than the others, probably in his forties, and held tightly onto the stick, as if to battle Fes. The others were closer to Fes’s age, and they watched him, their eyes narrowed and nervous.
“Are you with the camp down below?” Fes asked.
“What does it matter to you?” the lead man asked.
“Curiosity, that’s all. I haven’t seen people traveling in such numbers that weren’t with the empire,” he said.
“We support the empire.”
“That’s not what I was implying.”
“No. You were implying that only the empire and the rebellion would travel in such numbers.”
Fes smiled to himself. That had been something like what he had implied, but he hadn’t wanted to say it. They weren’t rebellion, though he hadn’t figured they were. The rebellion tended to be better armed than these people were. Most of the rebellion carried something more dangerous than a sharpened stick.
“Where are you traveling?”
“There are only a few places along this way we can go.”
That meant they were traveling to the city. Fes looked back, noticing how many children were in the camp below. He hadn’t paid any attention to that before, trying to figure out whether it was soldiers or rebellion, but it was neither.
“What happened?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Fes looked back at the man. He noticed weariness creasing the corners of his eyes, and he saw the sadness in the other two with him. They’d been through something. Fes had seen that expression before. It was the same type of expression he’d worn after losing his family, and then again with his brother.
“What happened?”
“Our village was attacked,” the man said.
“Attacked?”
That didn’t strike him as anything that the rebellion had done. They were more interested in dealing with the empire rather than attacking villages. At least, that had been his experience.
Could that have been wrong? Could the rebellion have attacked the village? Considering the number of children down in that campsite, it would anger him if that were true.
Fes had tried to remain neutral, not wanting to get involved with the rebellion or the plotting of the empire, but it was almost as if they were trying to draw him in.
“Several dozen soldiers attacked our village. They looted, and then before leaving, they burned the rest. They were powerful soldiers, and even a few of our people who had once served in the army had not faced anything like that before.”
“Were there any fire mages?”
The man shook his head. “No fire mages, but that didn’t even matter. As it was, we lost everything.”
That definitely wasn’t the rebellion. Fes wasn’t sure what it had been, but the rebellion wouldn’t attack a village like that, and they certainly wouldn’t burn it. They wanted to separate the empire from power, but that was it.
“Where was your village?”
“Salina is on the coast. A fishing village. Nothing that deserved an attack like that.”
“How is it that you all escaped?”
“Most of us ran during the attack. They didn’t seem interested in harming us. They wanted the wealth of our village—which wasn’t much. When they were done, they burned everything.”
The younger woman with the man was the one who spoke. Her voice was soft, strained, and Fes could hear the pain in her voice.
“And you’re coming this way for protection.”
They nodded. It made sense, and he wasn’t going to be the one to tell them that they couldn’t find protection in the city. For all he knew, the fire mages would be willing to offer their assistance. With the Dragon Guard there, it was possible that there would be safety.
“What are you doing traveling through here?”
the man asked, jabbing at him with his stick.
Fes ignored the stick. The man—and his makeshift weapon—weren’t any sort of threat.
“I’m looking for help for a friend,” he said.
“What kind of help?”
Fes looked back down at the campsite. Daylight began to break, and it wouldn’t be long before it was fully light. As they stood there, he noticed movement off to the east, back in the direction from which he’d come. He didn’t need the sudden pressure of heat building on him to tell him what that heat came from.
“You might need to be careful. There’s something more going on than only your village getting destroyed,” Fes said. It wasn’t much of a warning, but anything more than that would potentially reveal his role.
“We’ve come this way for the protection of the empire. We’ve always been told that if there was a need, all we had to do was seek out the emperor’s servants and we would be offered that help.”
Fes resisted the urge to laugh. Instead, he just nodded. “I hope that you find the protection you seek.”
“What about you?” the man asked.
“Like I said, I’m going to find help for a friend.”
He started off along the hilltop, no longer concerned about others down in the camp seeing him. He didn’t worry about this man stopping him. A man like that wasn’t accustomed to fighting. He was a fisherman, which explained the spear.
Fatigue began to wear on him. How much longer would he be able to maintain this pace? He needed to find the priests Jayell had known about, but he hadn’t seen any sign of a temple, and certainly nothing that would explain where she had been leading him.
He paused, turning back toward them. “Have you passed any Priests of the Flame?”
The man’s brow furrowed. “You’re a follower of the flame?”
Fes hesitated. It was possible that saying he was might anger this man. Some within the empire despised the Priests of the Flame while others followed them, believing the same as the priests that the dragons could someday return and that the priests were crucial for that.
“I’m just looking for help for a friend,” he said.
The man glanced at his two companions before looking back at Fes. “There is a small temple about a day from here.”
“A temple?”
“It’s not much of a temple. The Priests of the Flame rarely risk that sort of exposure, but you will find several of the priests there.”
“Thank you for your help,” Fes said. “Be careful. I think soldiers are coming this way.”
The man frowned. “Soldiers? Why would there be soldiers?”
Fes just gave a tight smile. “Be careful.”
He continued along the hilltop, weaving around and away from the campsite. One hundred people was a large village, and he wondered what had happened. He had been out of the capital long enough that he wasn’t privy to the same rumors that he once had been, but he didn’t think that anyone would be foolish enough to attack holdings of the empire, even coastal ones where they might be far removed from the capital and the seat of the empire’s power.
Maybe it was the rebellion. What did he really know about what they might do? Their real goals remained a mystery. If only Alison had shared. But she hadn’t, keeping it to herself.
Fes pushed those questions away. He focused instead on what he needed to do to help Jayell. Find the priests, and then find some way of reaching her.
Would it be enough?
That was the thought that bothered him the most. It was possible that anything he might attempt wouldn’t be enough to help her. It was possible that her capture would be permanent. And considering the way she had reacted when they came across the few fire mages, he didn’t like what might become of it. She had been afraid. Jayell had escaped the temple and the fire mages, turning to the priesthood, and he didn’t like that he might be responsible for her getting drawn back into something that she had wanted only to avoid.
When he circled around the camp, he paused to watch. As dawn broke, the camp roused, and people began to make their way east, heading toward the city and the fire mages. They would run directly into those pursuing Fes. Would that matter?
He lost track of time as he watched them, even drifting off briefly before dragging himself back to his feet after the party had long since disappeared. The evening had come on, and he turned his attention to the west and started off, heading toward the priests, and the temple the man had claimed was out there.
With each step, Fes couldn’t help but feel as if he were retreating farther and farther away from where he needed to be. He couldn’t shake the sense that he was abandoning Jayell when she needed him most.
Chapter Five
When Fes caught sight of the village in the distance, he wondered if he had made a wrong turn. Wasn’t he supposed to come across a temple first? It seemed to be what the traveler had implied, but there was no sign of a temple here. There was only a small village. Most of the buildings were plain, simple, squat single-story buildings that suggested a utilitarian lifestyle. The land wrapping around him was relatively flat, and several sections appeared to be farmed. What other industry might a village like this have?
They weren’t near a river, not as some of the villages he’d come across were, most of them using the river to maintain a mill. There weren’t very many trees around. Nothing but farmland.
It was an unusual location for a village. Then again, perhaps that was the point. Maybe the people living in this village didn’t want to attract attention.
Fes approached carefully. It was near dusk, and so far, he hadn’t seen anyone moving. He’d been left alone on the road into the village, which left him wondering whether there was something he had overlooked. Maybe there had been an attack here, the same as there had been in the coastal village. If so, what had come this way? What was attacking?
No. Had there been an attack like the one that had claimed the other village near the sea, he would’ve expected to have found burned-out husks of buildings, and there was nothing like that here.
He reached the outer edge. As he did, he realized there weren’t any lights glowing in any of the windows. Nothing that spoke of life here. It was almost as if the village had been abandoned.
He took a deep breath, expecting a stale odor or one of rot, but noticed a freshness in the air, and mixed with it was the smell of grain and breads and food.
This wasn’t an abandoned place. Whatever else it was, there was life here.
He only had to find it.
With each step, he was painfully aware of the way his boots crunched on the ground. It was late in the season, and there had been no rain for days, something Fes had been thankful for, especially as he had been traveling. But then, sometimes having rain allowed him to know whether he was alone on the road, something that might be valuable now.
Another few steps, his boots crunching, his heart pounding far too loudly. Why should an abandoned village make him uncomfortable?
He’d been to abandoned villages before and had seen places where the people had departed, fearing for their safety or running out of whatever it was that had brought life to the village in the first place. This didn’t have that same air.
No. This was more like…
He was being watched.
Fes paused, turning around to see whether he could find anyone watching him. The way into the village had been open, and he would have been exposed, so anyone coming through here would not be surprised to see him approach.
He turned again, and now in the middle of the village, five people were standing, watching him. An older woman stood at the front, graying hair curled, a gold necklace hanging between her breasts. Pale gray eyes watched him, appraising him.
Fes resisted the urge to shiver.
Two men stepped forward, flanking the woman. One of the men had dark black hair, and he gripped a sword, though it appeared blunted, dulled. How old would that weapon be? “Who are you?” the man asked, squeezing the
hilt of his sword.
Fes smiled to himself. They wanted to appear threatening, but instead, they looked scared, nothing more than that. He looked at the older woman. She was the one who would be in charge. “Is this how you greet all your visitors?”
The woman eyed him, and a faint smile curled her lips. “We don’t get many visitors here.”
“I can see why. If everyone is greeted in this way, I can’t imagine that you have too many people wanting to come and spend time here.”
“What are you doing here?” the man asked again. He took another step toward Fes, the chipped sword catching the fading sunlight.
“Just passing through. Nothing more than that.”
“If you were just passing through, you wouldn’t be armed the way that you are.”
Fes looked down at the sword. He’d created a makeshift sheath for it so that he didn’t have to carry it. The other was strapped to his back.
“Traveling can be dangerous,” Fes said.
“Not so dangerous that someone needs to come armed like that,” the man said.
Fes looked around. Others had appeared; buildings that he had suspected were empty had not been. How long had they known he was coming?
And knowing that he was coming, why had they hidden? What were they afraid of?
“Where am I?”
“You are where you should not have come,” the man said.
This was a strange reception, even more curious than he would have expected, knowing there had been the attack on the fisherman’s village. Had these people experienced something similar? Were they treating him like this because they were afraid? Or was there more to it?
“I can go,” Fes said. “I was only looking for Priests of the Flame.”
The man started to open his mouth, but the older woman caught his arm and stepped forward. It was a risk on his part admitting that he came in search of Priests of the Flame. It was possible these people were the kind of devout followers of the empire who would be angered by that, but it was also possible that he had found the Priests of the Flame, even if they were nothing like other priests he’d met. Serving the Path of the Flame was dangerous, perhaps even more so this close to the power of the fire mages.
Dragon Rise (The Dragonwalker Book 3) Page 5