The inner light vanished from Rowen’s stone as he let it fall back against his chest. He returned Leah’s stone. She felt a lot more secure when she’d put it back around her neck.
Suddenly she remembered something that she had forgotten to tell them. She frowned.
“There’s something else. I also overheard Pazolt tell Quinen that the Expansionists have kidnapped my half-sister Barbara.”
“But she was sent to Richmond for safety …” interjected Fletcher.
“Evidently some of the Expansionists in the Anoke forest intercepted her and are taking her to Bluefield. Shaltus seems to want to eliminate the S’Carltons by his own hand, if possible.”
Rowen slammed his fist into his palm. “I’m the one who suggested that Barbara go to Richmond. It took her only a day to recover from the backlash of the wraith’s attack, but I thought she’d be safer in the area controlled by the Triad. She left six days ago—no, seven.”
Leah’s eyes widened. She felt a sudden surge of hope. “Do you have a map of the area? I don’t think they could have taken her all the way to Bluefield yet.”
“I have a good one,” replied Tim Fletcher. The thin, bearded man turned to his horse, opened one of his saddlebags, and pulled out a bundle of documents. Leah caught sight of a leather-bound book among the papers. She couldn’t be sure, but it looked like a copy of The Book of Revelations, the sacred scriptures of N’Omb. Although the local Church had discouraged her father from bringing her to services, he had taught her its basic tenets. She knew that only members of the priesthood were permitted to read the sacred text. It was written in an ancient language, said to be the foundation for their present tongue, and only the N’Omb priests were taught its use. A greatly bowdlerized and reworked version of The Book of Revelations, called the Testaments of N’Omb, was available in the common language.
Before Leah could be certain of what she’d seen Fletcher had thrust the book back into his bag, along with most of the other documents. He sorted through several rolled maps and handed one to Rowen.
Leah knelt beside the tall sorcerer as he spread the map on the ground. She studied the jagged line representing the Apple Mountains, which headed through the bottom third of Carlton northeast to the middle of the kingdom of Westvirn on Carlton’s eastern border. To the south of the mountains lay the smaller, triangular-shaped state of Richmond.
To reach Castle Richmond on the coast, Barbara would undoubtedly have traveled along the lengthy St. Topher Road, which ran from Castle Carlton all the way through Westvirn to Castle Richmond. The highway crossed the mountains by way of the Clearfield Gap, quite close to the large Sylvan forest of Anoke.
It seemed likely that the Expansionists from the Anoke tribe had waylaid Barbara somewhere east of the Gap. They probably would have taken her back through the Gap and then headed south along the Greenstone and Bluestone rivers to Bluefield, rather than travel back to Anoke, where other Sylvan would have asked questions. The Expansionists had to be only a small minority of the Anoke tribe.
With the mountains to slow them the Sylvan could not have reached Bluefield yet. They were probably traveling southwest along the Greenstone River now.
Leah outlined her deductions to the others.
Rowen nodded. “We might be able to cut southeast along this trail.” His finger stabbed at the map, pointing out a rough track that veered away from the main Bluefield Road just south of Iveysville, not far from their present position. It followed the left branch of the creek around the area known as Coal Mountain, while the main road followed the right branch and then angled south along Ravenscliffe Ridge.
“We could intercept them somewhere along the Bluestone River just before they enter the area that Shaltus controls.” Rowen stood and looked thoughtfully at Rusty. “You might be able to help.”
The stocky precog shook his head. “No.”
Sighing, Rowen half-turned away from the older man. “Of course if you don’t mind Lady S’Carlton’s death on your conscience …” He shrugged.
“Damn it, Michael,” exclaimed Rusty. “That’s not fair. You know how I feel about seeing what’s ahead.” His fingers tugged restlessly at the end of the once russet-colored beard that had given him his nickname. It was almost all white now.
His too-wise eyes were seas of sadness. Then he nodded reluctantly. “All right. I guess we might as well find out what we’re up against, if we can. But I’m not guaranteeing anything.”
Klaus and the other soldier looked bewildered. They hadn’t realized that Rusty was a precog.
Rusty pulled a half-empty bottle of brandy from his saddle and took a long swig. Fletcher grabbed his arm as the older man started to take a second drink.
“That’s enough.”
The anger in the precog’s eyes faded. “Sure.” He handed Fletcher the bottle. Then his eyes seemed to focus somewhere in midair. His face beaded with sweat, and deep lines etched his brow. His eyes began to roll up until mostly white showed. His face seemed to age ten years in a few seconds.
Leah sucked in her breath.
As the seconds ticked by with dreadful slowness, Lord Rowen looked plainly worried, and Fletcher seemed concerned. The soldiers were startled and confused by Rusty’s sudden trance. Klaus hastily drew a circle in midair to signify a prayer to N’Omb.
Rusty’s eyes snapped open. Fletcher put a supporting arm around his shoulders. The precog pulled the brandy from Fletcher’s grip and took several long gulps. He sighed, pushed the bottle away from his lips, and raised his eyes to lock them with Rowen’s.
“Well, Leah seems to be right. There’s a chance we can catch up with Lady Barbara before she reaches Shaltus. However, it might be better if we don’t try to save her.”
“Why not?” asked Leah.
Rusty looked at her sadly. “The future is like a spider’s web, with many strands. You can choose which to go down if you know the pattern. Instead of reaching the spider you were destined for you might reach the edge and safety.” He glanced meaningfully at Michael Rowen. “Or you might fall off.”
“What sort of magic have you done?” asked Klaus with hesitation. He was curious, but it was difficult for him to overcome his fear of sorcery.
“Rusty has the ability to foresee the future,” replied Lord Rowen. “It requires no spellstone.”
“Well, what have you seen?” Klaus asked Rusty.
“It’s not easy to explain. I see a pattern of events. Those that are closest in time to the present are the clearest, those farther away are faint and unreadable. Within the pattern the details are sharpest on the most likely line of the future; but with each possible decision the path branches, and these alternate futures soon grow too numerous to trace. Sometimes there are swirls of lines around certain key events or people. Sometimes I can see these nodes clearly and discover the general future if certain things happen, or if they don’t. Of course, the events that are the easiest to see are those that involve me. They are in the center of the general pattern.”
Rusty took a long sip of the brandy. “There was a time in my life when I could study the paths for hours. I could follow the branches outward and outward until I thought I could predict just about anything.” His face grew sadder. “But I was wrong. I couldn’t trace out all the effects of a decision. One action can reverberate forever… .”
The precog shook his head as if trying to shake himself loose from some bitter memory. “Now, of course, I’m out of shape for such fine viewing. Even when I haven’t had a drink, I can’t concentrate for more than a few minutes. And I really don’t want to.” He glared at Lord Rowen. “I shouldn’t be trying to read the future at all.
“So what I advise is probably worth nothing. I saw a chance that we might arrive at the Bluestone River in time to save Lady Barbara. But there’s a greater chance they’ll travel a little faster, and we’ll miss them. Even if we do get there and don’t get ourselves killed, those Sylvan that Miss Leah told us about, the ones waiting at Ravenscliffe, would prob
ably learn what we’ve done and come after us. Then we’d have them to worry about.”
“But if there is a chance to save Lady Barbara, we must take it!” interjected Lieutenant Klaus. “Lord S’Carlton would demand it. And he is the one paying for your services.”
“I think Klaus has a point,” replied Lord Rowen. “And I wouldn’t feel right if we didn’t at least try to save Lady Barbara.”
“We’d be putting ourselves in a great deal of danger… .” Rusty insisted.
“What sort of danger?” asked Klaus. “You see what’s ahead. Why can’t you direct us away from any hazards?”
Rusty’s fists clenched. “You don’t understand. I just get glimpses now. Sometimes it’s as though I were standing on a mountain, looking down at a river—I can see that the current is swift and dangerous, but I can’t chart every rock in the rapids. I can’t tell if those dark objects in the water are logs, rocks, or gators. I know that there is a way down the river. If you are on a sturdy raft and have luck and skill, you might make it. However, I have enough sense to know that only a fool would try it.”
He frowned, searching for the right words. “Sometimes my vision is full of detail. It’s as if I’m down on that raft, and I know every rock and current ahead. Yet at the same time I’m so close to the river that I can just get a glimpse of the mountain. I don’t know what’s on the mountainside or beyond it. From that vantage point I don’t know where the river will lead or even what’s beyond the next bend.”
“But you do see a chance to rescue Lady Barbara?” asked Klaus impatiently.
“Yes. I see a path that leads to her. But that way holds dangers for each of us.” With his last words Rusty gestured toward the rest of the group. The expression on his face seemed to indicate that he’d envisioned a death for everyone in the party in at least one possible future.
Leah shivered as she realized that Rusty had included her in the group. What made him think that she was going along? She hadn’t thought about anything beyond warning Rowen of Quinen’s plans. She didn’t know what she was going to do next, but it hadn’t even entered her mind that she might accompany them to Bluefield.
She thought about the dangers lying in that direction—the deadly Shaltuswraith waiting for another chance to destroy her, the Sylvan who were taking her half-sister to Shaltus, the probability that Quinen himself would try to stop Lord Rowen.
She shook her head slowly. “I’m not going with you.”
“What do you mean?” asked Michael Rowen.
“I just came to warn you. I felt an obligation to, but I’m not staying around.”
“Where do you expect to go?”
“I don’t know, but my brother, the Sylvan, and the wraith all want my death. I can’t stay here.” She hesitated, thinking aloud. “Perhaps I’ll head west. There are many new kingdoms in the ruins of S’Shegan’s Empire—there ought to be opportunities. Perhaps I can sell my sorcery as you do. Or I could go farther west, to the unexplored lands beyond the Western League of Kingdoms.”
“We need your help against the Sylvan—you know their ways and their powers, we don’t. And Rusty seems to think you can help us defeat the wraith; that’s one reason why he helped you back at Carlton.”
As Rowen paused, Leah glanced over at the precog. So that was why he had helped her. What had he foreseen?
“I’m sure that we can convince your brother that he was wrong about you,” Rowen continued.
Leah shook her head. “Even so, there’s the wraith to consider. I don’t know how I can help defeat it.
The programmed spellstone it planted at Carlton almost destroyed my half-brother, even with our aid. The wraithstone I ran into would have killed me if I’d been a little less lucky. But what scares me more is that the wraith itself is far more powerful than its programmed stones. I don’t want to meet it.”
“If we don’t eliminate Shaltus, you’ll never be safe no matter where you go,” replied Rowen. “It would send other stones out to find you. You’d be forced to fight it someday. Why not do it now, with us? We can help each other.”
Leah shivered, sensing the truth in what Rowen said. And even if she could be free of the wraith, the thought of making her way alone in the world terrified her. For most of her life she’d had her father and her grandfather to protect her; now they were gone. She felt lost and alone. There was no longer a place for her.
Perhaps Rowen could make her half-brother accept the truth about what had happened so that she could return to Carlton. In many ways her life there had not been a happy one, but sometimes an unpleasant certainty was more preferable than the unknown.
Of course, there might be a certain amount of satisfaction in showing Richard just how wrong he was about her by helping destroy Shaltus.
But why should she risk her life for those who despised her? She had fulfilled her obligation to her father; she had none to her half-brother, none. Let him aid Rowen in destroying the wraith; why should she have to face its power?
Suddenly she had no real reasons to stay, only reasons to go.
Rowen was now talking with Klaus and the other Carlton soldier. He turned to the soldier and said, “I want you to ride to Castle Carlton and tell Lord Richard what’s happened. Warn him about the Sylvan and the possibility that another programmed spellstone will be planted in the castle. Explain that Leah warned us.”
Rusty frowned. “Then you are determined to go after Lady Barbara?”
“I think we have to,” replied Michael Rowen.
As the soldier bid farewell to Klaus, Leah walked over to Michael Rowen.
“But how will you manage against the Sylvan?” she asked.
“You can help us with that”
“But I’ve decided I’m not going with you.”
Suddenly Rowen reached forward and took her hand. His huge hands were gentle but unyielding. “Of course you are.” His eyes were warm silver-gray flecked with jade.
Disconcerted by the friendliness, sincerity, and certainty in his eyes, she glanced away. Though the pressure on her hand was as soft as a breeze, her fingers seemed to burn in his grasp. She felt flustered and self-conscious.
“We need you,” he said. “We can help one another.” He seemed totally sincere.
The thought of someone, especially him, needing her impressed her even more than the thought of facing the Shaltuswraith or of running from it forever.
Her weak resolve to leave crumbled. It was not totally rational to stay, but somehow she could no longer go.
She nodded, staring mutely at the ground, feeling too uneasy to meet his steady gaze.
“Good,” said Rowen. He turned to the others. “Let’s get going, we have little time. If we are going to avoid Ravenscliffe, we’ll have to take that side trail. Rusty, you better show me exactly where you think we’ll find the Sylvan and Lady Barbara.”
Releasing Leah’s hand with a squeeze, he strode over to the map.
She stood still, trying to pull her scattered thoughts into some kind of order, while the warmth in her hand seemed to spread throughout her body.
Ten
She pushed back long strands of hair plastered against her face with sweat, shaded her eyes, and glanced up at the sky. A light gray film of cloud blotted out most of the blue. It half-veiled the sun, turning it into a tarnished coin that flared into gold or almost disappeared whenever the obscuring cover shifted.
For hours the air had been heavy with the threat of thunderstorms that never materialized. Several times the clouds to the north had thickened and darkened, only to fade quickly back into light gray. Now thunderheads were building again in the mountains behind them.
Leah wished that it would rain and break the muggy heat that had accompanied them during the two days since they’d left the Bluefield Road.
She looked up the trail and found her eyes drawn to the large figure of Michael Rowen riding in the lead. She studied his thick shoulders and broad back. He looked relaxed, but a slight stiffness in his beari
ng made her think that he was at full attention, ready for anything.
Timothy Fletcher moved his brown gelding alongside her chestnut mare. He gestured at the long mountain ridge to the north where the sky was darkening. “That would be White Oak Mountain. We’ve almost reached Bluestone Lake.”
“Do you think there’ll be a storm?” she asked, glancing again at the massing clouds.
“Maybe in an hour or two, but that one’s moving east. I don’t think it will reach us.”
“I hope it rains soon,” said Leah. She shifted uncomfortably. Her body was stiff and sore from riding, her damp clothes stuck to her body, and her skin itched from numerous mosquito bites.
“N’Omb’s damnation!” she exclaimed, reaching forward to brush a tick from her leg. Fortunately the bug was just crawling along the surface of her trousers, so it was easy to remove. However, she didn’t doubt that later she’d find that several of the insects had gotten beneath her clothing, for they’d been riding through a meadow of shoulder-high weeds and grasses for some time. There ought to be a spell to keep such pests away, she thought, but if there was one she didn’t know about it.
The meadow gave way to marshes, and suddenly the bright blue of the lake was ahead of them. They could see the northern shoreline curving to the east where it met the Greenstone River. The lake was long and narrow, only a few times wider than a river.
A long-deserted farmhouse stood about a half a kilometer to the north. Its roof was caved in, and-its wooden sides were stripped of paint. They looked ready to tumble in after the roof at any moment. At the intersection of the lake and river stood a cluster of other structures, probably the remains of a tiny village.
An old wagon trail, now overgrown, paralleled the lakeside.
The party crossed the road, dismounted at the edge of the lake, and watered their animals. While the rest of the group bathed faces and refilled canteens, Michael Rowen wandered back to the road. Leah found herself watching him from the corner of her eye as she splashed herself with the cooling water. Her gaze kept drifting to his hands; she remembered how small hers had seemed within them.
The Spellstone of Shaltus Page 10