The man sitting beside Ashwarawu spat upon the ground with obvious contempt. „Are we to provide entertainment, then?“ he asked his leader.
But it was obvious to Pagonel that his words had intrigued Ashwarawu enough to push them past the point of such simple questions. The fierce leader continued to stare at Pagonel, trying to gain some measure, perhaps, or perhaps trying to weigh the potential good that could come from this unexpected meeting against the potential risks.
Ashwarawu was indeed leaning toward the possible benefits, Pagonel knew. How much stronger might his army become if the Jhesta Tu mystics were to side with him? For though Pagonel was likely the first Jhesta Tu Ashwarawu had ever seen, the legend of the warrior mystics from the Mountains of Fire was surely well-known through both lands, Behren and To-gai. And that legend, Pagonel also understood, had very likely become greatly inflated with each retelling.
You are another mouth in search of food,“ Ashwarawu said at length.
I need no supplies, but will find my own.“
„And enough to feed some of my warriors, as well.“
„Agreed.“
And so on that cold winter day, nearing the end of God’s Year 840, the Jhesta Tu master joined the band of a young outlaw, one who was gaining the eyes and ears of Yatol Grysh in Dharyan, and even of Chezru Chieftain Yakim Douan in faraway Jacintha.
Ashwarawu had no idea of what it all meant, but he remained thrilled at the prospects of enlisting the Jhesta Tu in his cause.
Pagonel had no idea of what it all meant, but that quiet voice within hirn understood that joining up with Ashwarawu’s band, even as merely a spectator, would help him more quickly answer the many questions that had nagged at him since his vision after enlightenment had set him on the road to To-gai.
The wind-driven snow rode more horizontal than vertical, stinging Brynn and Runtly, forcing both to squint and often turn their heads. The tough pony trudged along, ears flat, but otherwise uncomplaining.
Brynn wasn’t worried. These stinging ice and snowstorms were commonplace on the steppes and rarely amounted to any deep accumulation.
The woman was growing frustrated, though, for she had been in the valley described by Barachuk and Tsolona for several days, with no sign of Ashwarawu and his band, no sign of any recent passage at all. She was anxious to get on with this part of her winding road, for she believed that this turn might lead her to her ultimate goal.
She knew that she wasn’t going to track Ashwarawu, or anyone else, at that time, though; and so she was taking Runtly along the northern ridge of the hills, looking for some overhang or shallow cave where they could find shelter.
The wind was howling about her, but Brynn felt very quiet, falling very far within herself. She thought again of those she had left behind, of Belli’mar Juraviel and Cazzira, of Lady Dasslerond and the distant land of Andur’Blough Inninness.
Mostly of Belli’mar Juraviel.
Brynn remembered all the stories the unusual elf had told her about his previous protege, the famous Nightbird. She shivered, and not from the cold, when she recalled Juraviel’s story of his encounter with the demon, Bestesbulzibar, how Lady Dasslerond had come to his rescue, using her magic to take Juraviel and those humans in his charge - and the demon dactyl! - back to Andur’Blough Inninness, where her magic was strongest, so that she could battle the great demon. That fight had left the encroaching rot in the elven valley.
Brynn sighed quietly to herself as she considered the implications of that demon stain. Because of that, Aydrian had been taken in by Lady Dasslerond, who had some mysterious plan to use him to battle the stain.Of that Dasslerond’s interest in Brynn had become something more ‘he usual elf-ranger relationship. Thinking that her people might have ert their fair valley, Dasslerond had determined that Brynn would ‘open the road south by liberating the To-gai-ru.
It all tied together in such a strange and unexpected way.
Brynn held no illusions, though. She was not there for the sake of Lady Dasslerond. No, she was there for the good of the To-gai-ru. If Dasslerond
d the elves benefited from her actions taken for the gain of her own peo-pk, then all the better.
And she would take those actions, would tree lo-gai, the young woman believed. She just wished that Belli’mar Juraviel was there to help her along her road, to counsel her and guide her, to tell her when she was acting foolishly and when she was following the right fork in the path.
How she missed him! Both as mentor and friend!
Lost in the memories, Brynn did not notice Runtly’s ears coming up suddenly, nor even the little nicker the pony offered, in obvious surprise.
The form came out of the snowy haze in a wild rush, charging right beside the woman, club swinging to knock her from her mount.
Purely on instinct and reflex, Brynn ducked to the side and down and kicked a heel into Runtly’s flank, and the strong pony leaped away. The attacker turned to follow, though, and Brynn soon understood that he was not alone.
She brought Runtly into a flat-out gallop, cutting down to the center of the valley, trying to find more maneuvering room away from boxing walls. Riders rose up out of the white-out beside her, all with weapons raised.
Brynn resisted the urge to draw out her sword and instead focused on cutting Runtly into tight turns, kicking him into short bursts of speed, then pulling up fast and changing directions. For these were To-gai-ru warriors attacking her, and not Behrenese, and though their weapons were no less dangerous, Brynn had no desire to kill one of her own.
Of course, the fact that they were To-gai-ru, and on horseback, made them all the harder to shake.
Runtly turned a sharp right, slicing inside the angle of a rider trying to cut Brynn off. The To-gai-ru warrior launched a wild swing at her, his staff coming up far short, but Brynn leaned out and caught the end of it, then quickly turned Runtly back to the left so that she could pull the staff in closer and secure her seat.
f he horses passed and Brynn had the stronger seat, and the To-gai-ru warrior tumbled down from his horse. He let go of his club as he fell, and Brynn put it up over her head and gave a great „whoop!“
She brought it around in a circle, then down hard to the side, deflecting the attack of another passing rider, then pulled it in and thrust it back out, catching the man under the arm as he passed and finding enough of a hook there to dislodge him, too, from his seat.
Brynn and Runtly charged straight ahead, directly into the blinding snow Two large forms appeared before them, blocking the path, but the woman and her pony cut a deft turn.
Right at a tumble of waist-high boulders.
Her strong legs locking on the horse, Brynn went into a half seat and Runtly responded with a great leap, clearing the first boulder, then landing smoothly and launching again after a single stride to clear the second rock. Two strides later, the pony went over the third and largest rock.
Brynn heard pursuit from all around her, but she was smiling, exhilarated, feeling the wondrous interplay of great muscles beneath her.
Rider and horse had become as one, and a series of turns and sudden accelerations had Brynn weaving through the ranks of her pursuers, her staff working furiously to take one, and then another, to the ground.
But then she had to pull up short, for a standing line of dark riders appeared before her, and as she turned her head side to side, she saw that others were filling in about her. At her command, Runtly reared and went right around on his hind legs.
But there, too, behind her, loomed a line of grim-faced riders.
With a growl of defiance, Brynn threw down the staff and pulled forth her sword, and with a thought, set the blade aflame, challenging any and all to approach.
But none did. They sat solemn and stoic, patiently waiting.
And then, after Brynn had turned Runtly about several times, a large man on a black-and-white pinto appeared in the middle of one line, walking slowly and deliberately toward her. He h
ad no weapon drawn, but still seemed to Brynn to be the most imposing and dangerous of the bunch!
He walked his horse right up before Runtly, staring at Brynn unblinkingly.
„Ashwarawu,“ the woman said, and she was indeed surprised. Not because this was the legendary warrior sitting astride his horse before her, but merely because he was so young! He couldn’t even be her age, and she hadn’t seen twenty summers as yet!
He was tall and strong-featured, with a wide face and a square jaw and penetrating light gray eyes - made all the more remarkable because of his dark complexion and black hair. His shoulders were wide, as well, a girth exaggerated by the layers of furs that he wore as armor.
His expression didn’t change when Brynn spoke his name, and he seemed aloof to the woman, as if he had no doubts that she would know who he was. After a long moment, he held up one huge hand, an unthreat-ening gesture.
„You are far from any village, woman.“
„I am where I meant to be.“
The man cocked his eyebrows, smiling at her confident response. „You ride well.“
„I am To-gai-ru,“ Brynn answered. „It is expected of me.“
Ashwarawu smiled and nodded his approval. knew that the display that she had just put on had impressed all ad witnessed it, particularly the few warriors who had found the mis-ne to cross her path. Given that, her matter-of-fact attitude about her • skill seemed to impress Ashwarawu even more. r Just as she had hoped.
‘•’Who are you, and why have you come? the leader asked.
„I am Brynn Dharielle,“ she answered loudly, wanting all about her to hear „I have no home, and was a wanderer until very recently, when I hap-,ened upon a village controlled by a despised Yatol.“
„You fled the Yatol?“
„I killed the Yatol, and his Chezhou-Lei lackey beside him,“ Brynn answered. „And so again, I have no home.“
„And others directed you to me,“ Ashwarawu reasoned, fighting hard, obviously, to keep his expression and voice calm, though those about were murmuring with excitement and disbelief that this young and small warrior had defeated a Chezhou-Lei! To say nothing of the fact that through some magic they did not know, she had just set her sword aflame!
„It seemed a logical road, I suppose,“ the woman answered.
Ashwarawu spent a long while studying her then, his eyes roaming over her, over her horse, out to her fabulous, still-burning weapon. „You are To-gai-ru,“ he said at last. „We will not turn you out in the winter.“
Brynn let her sword’s fire burn out and slid the weapon away.
„But neither will you enjoy any treatment of privilege!“ Ashwarawu roared suddenly. „You will work for your food and will serve as you are told to serve!“
Brynn nodded, expecting nothing more.
„And I will seek to find out the truth of your words, Brynn Dharielle,“ the fierce leader promised. „If I find that you have spoken falsely to impress, then know that you have failed. If you have spoken falsely to deceive, to gain advantage for our enemies, then know that a most unpleasant death awaits you.“
„And if I have spoken truly?“ Brynn asked slyly.
Then you are welcome as one of my warriors,“ Ashwarawu answered without hesitation. „Nothing more, nothing less.“
Before Brynn could say another word, the leader spun his horse and walked away, passing through the line, which collected into formation behind him.
Brynn waited as the rest of the force walked past her, then took her place at the end of the line, melting into the mountains with the rest of her new family.
chapter
* 17 *
The Grim Reality
B
rynn sat astride Runtly near the far end of the long line of To-gai-ru warriors, her position showing her rank within Ashwarawu’s band, which was mostly determined by the time when she had joined. Next to her, higher up the ranking, sat a most curious man, dressed in a tan tunic and breeches, finely made, underneath a heavy bearskin wrap, and with a marvelous sash that seemed black most of the time but every so often flashed a myriad of colors in the light, like a tightly woven rainbow.
„Another caravan,“ Brynn remarked, as the Behrenese train came into view far below in the crisp and clear winter-morning air. „How stupid are our enemies?“
Brynn had been with Ashwarawu’s band for three weeks, and this was the third caravan the rebel leader had found out, and now intended to destroy. The first two had proven to be easy victories, with the To-gai-ru warriors sweeping down upon the wagons, slicing apart the drivers and the meager contingent of guards.
„The Yatol of Dharyan hears the desperation of To’in Ru,“ the monk replied, referring to a large and well-defended outposter settlement in the region, one that Ashwarawu had not yet gone against. „Perhaps the Yatol’s compassion for his own people blinds him. Or perhaps he does not understand our resolve.“
Brynn always listened carefully to this man, Pagonel, because he had a manner of putting things into a different perspective. It wasn’t always one with which she agreed, as now, but often over the last couple of weeks, she had found herself widening her opinions because of Pagonel’s softly spoken words - particularly concerning the Behrenese. The others of Ashwarawu’s band always referred to them with the derogatory „Wraps,“ but never did Pagonel. And often, Pagonel dared to assume the likely perspective of the individual Behrenese, though Ashwarawu surely didn’t like him putting a human face on their enemies!
A To-gai-ru rider came galloping back then, running the line to the mid-jje where Ashwarawu sat waiting.
„Twenty soldiers guarding seven wagons,“ the man reported. „Just like
the last one.“
„We should take them as prisoners,“ Brynn remarked under her breath.
„Ashwarawu will not,“ Pagonel replied quietly.
Brynn turned to regard the mystic. She had not been speaking to him, hut could not deny the truth of his response. Ashwarawu had made it per-fectlv clear to all of them: no Behrenese inside the borders of To-gai would be allowed to live.
Not the women, not the children.
Fortunately for Brynn, she had not been forced into killing noncombat-ant women and children as of yet. Both of the previous caravans, and this one, too, apparently, had been comprised mostly of soldiers, warriors, instruments of the imperial Yatols. Brynn could fight and kill such men, and a few warrior women, with clear conscience, for these were the invaders, the source of To-gai’s ills, the people who would destroy the To-gai-ru culture and heritage.
The woman tried not to think of the inevitable conflict that would arise between her and the fiery, dominating leader when at last the warrior band encountered Behrenese noncombatants.
She turned her attention to the situation at hand, eyeing the caravan as it meandered down below. Brynn understood her part well enough, for in Ashwarawu’s sweeping tactics, every role was the same. The raiders would wait until the caravan was directly below them. Then, with war whoops and weapons brandished high, the force would sweep down the sloping ground, slicing through the caravan like a swarm of angry bees, overwhelming the force with sheer numbers and sheer brutality, and with a deep-set confidence, the belief that a To-gai-ru warrior was simply superior to any Behrenese fighter.
The caravan continued along, drivers and guards seeming oblivious to the threat.
And so it began, a whirlwind, a charge, two hundred battle cries rising above the wind.
The drivers and soldiers tried to turn the wagons, tried to get into some sort of defensive position, but the charge was too fast.
On Runtly, Brynn leaped ahead of those closest to her, the strong pony outdistancing the others. Eager for battle, the young ranger veered in toward the center, outpacing even the strong black-and-white horse of Ashwarawu.
She came to the caravan first, her sword alight with fire, slashing across to tell the nearest mounted Behrenese soldier. She veered immediately back to the left a
s she connected, to meet a second warrior, her pulsating shield deflecting his thrusting spear up high.
Brynn cut even sharper to the left, with Runtly understanding and accepting the angle and smashing hard against the taller horse of the Behre-nese soldier. The horse jumped to the side and the man lurched over, and Brynn wasted no time in smashing the soldier across the face with her shield. She pulled Runtly up to a rearing stop and turn, and slashed her sword across.
The soldier’s head dropped to the snow.
Runtly burst ahead, leaping the hitch between a pair of horses and the wagon behind them, then Brynn cut him sharply to the left, bringing her down the line along the undefended side of the caravan. She stabbed at each wagon driver in line, scoring a couple of hits, one fatal, and forcing three other drivers off the other side.
All semblance of defense was shattered as the frightened horses of those four wagons, some aided by a slap on the rump by Brynn, broke formation.
The ensuing frenzy was just the type of chaos favored by Ashwarawu and his warriors, and each Behrenese, soldier and driver, was quickly isolated from his kin, and quickly slashed, stabbed, or trampled.
It was over in a matter of moments, as fast as a passing avalanche. Only a couple of the Behrenese weren’t quite dead, lying bleeding in the snow, crying out in agony, crying out for mercy.
Brynn found Pagonel collecting one of the wayward wagons. She moved to help him, trying hard to ignore the cries of the wounded.
„It is not a pretty business,“ the mystic remarked, seeing the distress on the young ranger’s face.
„I do not enjoy the killing,“ Brynn admitted. She grabbed up the loose reins of one team then, and started to turn them about, but she stopped, noting that Pagonel was glancing at her and then to the side, silently motioning for her to take notice.
Brynn turned to see the To-gai-ru line reformed beside the bulk of the caravan, with Ashwarawu walking his horse slowly toward her.
„You fought well this day,“ the leader observed. „As you have in the last encounters. As you did on the morning you were taken into my band.“
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