“Ah, but what if they were one and the same?” Bredych raised his glass and sipped the amber liquid. “With power, I could do much to benefit mankind.”
“One and the same? Have you forgotten? I’ve been in your slave camps,” Ilythra said.
He reached a hand out and deliberately put her piece in immediate jeopardy. “Don’t be naïve, Ilythra. This is the real world. There’s no good or bad, but shades between. Slaves are necessary to get the job done.” Bredych’s eyes gleamed across the table. “Your responsibility as a keeper is to determine where the greater good is found. I’ve considered this for many years and believe the stones should aid men in their pitiful quest for survival. You, of course, will make your own determination.” He drained his glass. “Now, I believe it’s your move.”
Ilythra woke gasping for breath, Naidel in hand. Disillusion enveloped her vision, creating forms that weren’t there. She concentrated on bringing her breathing under control, and then relaxed her hold on Naidel. Ilythra searched the quiet night for any sign of danger. Nothing.
The moon gazed through tree branches, touching leaves in its silver caress. It was still far from dawn. A sentry stood in the shadow of a nearby tree. Several forms slept under the night sky. She was safe in the Dawn Children camp, and they were on their way to defend Isolden. She blinked away the blurred lines between reality and her journey along Teann. She waited, but the dream did not fade. Bredych had said she couldn’t remember because he didn’t wish it. Perhaps he didn’t have such control when she instigated the meeting. How had she? Maybe she’d wanted to confront him so much that it had been unconscious. Would he remember the conversation? She shook her head. Why hadn’t she asked him about Isolden? King Benen? She took another deep breath.
Arien was right. He was underground. That explained why they couldn’t sense the stone. The rocks shielded the songs as thoroughly as distance. But where?
She knew one thing: she would find him. And when she did... Anger burned in her chest. She would make him pay for the suffering he caused.
Chapter Five
Arien waved a hand, and every warrior froze. It never ceased to amaze Ilythra how silently the Dawn Children could move through the forests. Even the horses remained quiet.
Trees wider around than she could span surrounded them. Large fern grew almost to her waist in the dappled light under the trees. The graceful fronds nodded their greetings in a slight current of air, lending it the vibrancy of growing things. Only the faint lessening of the undergrowth indicated they followed some kind of path.
She moved to where Arien led the column. From her trips to Isolden, she knew they were only a few hours from where Garmach could be seen perched atop a rocky crag. They’d reach the castle after one more full day of marching.
“I smell smoke.” Arien’s voice was quiet with solemnity.
Ilythra tested the air, catching the scent of green growth, moist soil and fresh air, but no smoke. “It is not surprising. An attacking army would keep fires lit.”
Arien’s eyes searched the blue sky visible above the towering green trees. “We will see.” He loosened his sword in its sheath and shrugged his bow over his shoulder. In the dense forest, the bow was not the best weapon.
Ilythra drew her eyebrows together in confusion. Something had the healer on alert, but she couldn’t tell what. She sensed along the winds of Teann. There was a disturbance, but that would be expected with a battle nearby. In the past, Arien’s judgments had been faultless. She wouldn’t doubt him now. Besides, Dawn Children senses were more accurate than hers. She reached over her shoulder to loosen her sword and followed Arien, but fear had settled deep in her gut.
Between the trees in the distance, Ilythra could make out the craggy mountains against a pale blue sky, their tops still decorated with a cap of white snow. Soon the trail would curve down into a valley and then join a road that led up the mountain to Garmach, the castle of Isolden kings. She pictured it as she’d seen it last. Built into the mountain, the castle blended into the rock save for the colorful pennants flying from every tower. It would not be an easy castle to take. They should arrive in time—too bad they still didn’t have much of a plan. She was trusting Teann would show her a way once they arrived. Ewen had sent a message to King Benen before they left, but they’d had no word from Garmach or Siann since entering human lands.
Ilythra took a deep breath. A warm breeze teased her skin, and then she smelled the acrid stench of smoke.
She glanced at Arien. The Dawn Child’s face had paled, but he didn’t speak. He signaled for the army to continue. The forest opened into a deep green meadow. She couldn’t shake the trepidation pooling in the pit of her stomach. Her head turned almost of its own accord to stare at the castle.
Several columns of smoke drifted into the heavens from within the castle walls. The dread rose up as bile. The standards of Isolden did not fly from the walls. Spikes of tall trees hid the road and any attacking army. They were not in the right position to see any ladders or siege engines. If not for the missing banners and the smoke, it would have looked as it always did.
Panic tasted sour in her throat. “We are still almost a day’s march away.”
Arien surveyed the landscape. “We will camp here tonight.”
She turned in surprise. “But there is still plenty of daylight. If we hurry, we can—”
“We can get closer, yes,” Arien interrupted. “But closer is not safer and will do Isolden no good. It will only alert the Rugians to our presence. I will send scouts.”
Ilythra wanted to argue, but she knew Arien was right. Need to get to the castle burned in her chest, surged through her limbs. Something was very wrong. Why would Benen take his pennants down? He wouldn’t, but there was no possible way the Rugian’s siege had defeated the castle so quickly. Had Garmach surrendered? That didn’t seem possible either. She’d been in the castle, seen its defenses. It was built in the side of the mountain. Some of the rooms even delved deep into the mountainside. She’d seen their stores. They had deep pools of fresh water in mountain caverns as well as cisterns that gathered melting snow. Like Siann, the castle was built over hot springs that kept the worst of the cold away. Benen had once boasted they could hold off an army all summer until the snows and cold fought for them.
The more she tried to comfort herself with facts, the stronger the sense of dread grew. If Benen was still on the throne, where were the standards of his house?
* * *
The fire crackled and popped. Ilythra sat on her cloak, staring at the flames, watching the colors blend from orange to red and yellow. She felt, rather than heard, Arien settle beside her.
The other Dawn Children warriors huddled in small groups or dozed under the star-filled sky. She knew Arien had set up a perimeter guard. No one would get into camp without their knowledge. And even from a sound sleep, she knew the warriors could be ready at a moment’s notice. But she still felt on edge, as though one misstep would destroy something.
“You fear the castle is taken.” Her words broke the night’s silence. She closed her eyes. She hadn’t wanted to consider the possibility but Arien’s demeanor, and her own reasoning, battled against what she wanted to believe.
Arien stared into the flames for several heartbeats. “Wood is not the fuel for the fires that burn inside the walls.”
Ilythra swallowed the lump in her throat. It couldn’t be true. “It’s impossible. The castle is strong. I’ve...I’ve...” She was at a loss for words.
“Yes, I know.” He took a deep breath. “The Dawn Children designed it. It was a gift to the kingdom of Isolden many years ago.”
“A gift?”
Arien stared into the fires. “Long ago, before the Dawn Children fled human lands,” he began, “there was a king who ruled Isolden. I’ve forgotten his name. He was a good king, but a stern and unyielding
father. He had a daughter and a son. Although they fought often, they were fiercely loyal to one another. As siblings often are.”
Ilythra stared into the night. Never having had a sibling, she didn’t know that kind of loyalty. She stared at Arien. But perhaps she was learning.
“The sister, Muriel, was very beautiful. The king kept a close watch on her, thinking to use her to increase his kingdom through marriage. At that time, the castle was farther south and smaller. It really wasn’t much more than a walled collection of buildings.
“One day, one of the Dawn Children passed through the woods close to this king’s castle. He heard weeping and followed the sound until he discovered the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He stopped to ask her what was wrong.
“She told him that in the new year, when the leaves began to sprout, her father planned to marry her to a southern king. She knew that her fate was to be married off, but this southern king was rumored to be harsh as well as rich.
“The woman didn’t want to leave her home, her brother or the lands she loved, but more than that, she didn’t want to be wed to a cruel man. Moved to compassion, he promised to find a way to stop the marriage. He asked her to tell no one of their meeting and to return to the same place the following day.” Arien paused for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. “They met in secret each day, sometimes talking, sometimes just being still together. Love blossomed. The brother noticed his sister’s change and one day followed her into the woods.
“There was no animosity between the Dawn Children and those of Isolden, but the prince was not happy to discover his sister was slipping away to meet with a man, even if he was one of the Elderborn. The man assured the prince his intentions were only honorable. The brother saw the love between the two and he hated the thought of his sister marrying the southern king. He agreed to keep their secret.
“The prince went to his father, the king, to once again beg that he change his mind. He suggested a different alliance, one with the Elderborn race. The king did not relent. Rather than see his sister married to the southern pig, the prince brought in a priest to marry his sister to the Dawn Child.
“The two agreed and were married in secret the next day. The Elderborn built a house in the forest, not far from where they first met. The princess would journey there daily to meet with him. But as the day approached for her departure to occur, her heart became heavy. She was with child and their secret could not remain so for much longer. He urged her to come live with him, far away from Isolden. But she would not hear of it. She didn’t want him to mourn his people and she didn’t wish to leave hers. She was sure once her father learned the truth, he would see reason.
“When she returned to her father’s home, she called her brother to her chamber and begged him to intervene once more. Together they went before their father and revealed all except the child. The king’s wrath was far greater than they imagined. In debt to the savages across the mountains, he needed the wealth from this southern king more than they knew. He locked the girl in a high tower and had his own son flogged.
“The king sent his army out to search the woods for the Elderborn.” Arien paused and smiled. “They didn’t reckon on our ability to disappear in need. They couldn’t find him but burned the small cabin he built for his wife.
“Later, hearing all that happened, the Elderborn stole into the palace with mind to release his wife and take her to his people, where she’d be safe. But the king was crafty and set a guard who allowed him in but not out.
“In a fierce fight, the king was fatally wounded. The brother fought by the Elderborn’s side but they couldn’t match forty men. The Dawn Child was also wounded. But as the king died, the brother ordered his sister released from prison, and soon she raced down to her husband. She held him as his lifeblood spilled on the ground.” A strong emotion flickered over Arien’s face. “He died.”
“The brother didn’t marry and his sister ruled at his side as queen. When the child was born, rumors thrived, of course, but rumors die out. She bore a son—half Elderborn, half human. He was loved, and the king raised him as his own.
“They waged war with the eastern people and defeated them. The king in the south decided he fancied another and did not cause them any trouble. From that time, until now, the line of the house of Isolden has not been broken. The kings of Isolden still carry a measure of Elderborn blood in their veins.” Arien paused. Emotion flickered in his eyes.
“You knew him. The Elderborn in your story, you knew him, didn’t you?” Ilythra said, her voice soft but certain.
“Yes, I knew him.” He met her gaze. “He was my brother.”
* * *
The breeze brushed her face, bringing with it the stench of smoke. Ilythra turned to see Cavin, Aimena’s brother, ride alongside her. He held his features tightly, a sure sign of contained deep emotion in one of the Dawn Children. Her throat tightened. Arien considered the people of Isolden his family. The descendants of his brother. Something inside her twisted. “They were well defended.”
He nodded but didn’t turn toward her.
That morning, Arien had divided the warriors. She and Cavin led two dozen warriors to sweep the forests to the west of the path. Arien took the bulk of their very small army to the east in the hopes of catching the attacking Rugians between their forces and appearing like a larger army while they did so.
Ilythra heart drummed against her ribs. She slowed her breath. Something was wrong. Cavin tensed, and Ilythra heard the rustling a moment later. She raised a hand, and the troupe of Dawn Children stilled. The guttural speech of Rugian sounded on the road ahead and to their right. Ilythra glanced at Cavin. His mouth set in a firm line and he dipped his head. Ilythra motioned with her hand. Silently, she dismounted. A soft vibration of the ground assured her a dozen warriors behind her followed suit. They didn’t know how many Rugians marched on the road.
With care they crept through the dense undergrowth until the forest opened enough to see the path. Ahead, six Rugians strolled almost casually on the road toward them. They spoke to one other with no attempt at stealth. Anger surged through her body until she could only see death. She raised her hand in a closed fist, opened and shut it again. The Dawn Children warriors surged out of the forest.
Soft thuds and grunts sent a flock of birds winging toward the safety of the sky, calling to one another. Steel clashed on steel, and soon the Rugians lay dead or dying on the road.
“It could have been a trap. You should have ordered bows from the shelter of the forest.” Cavin cleaned his sword on a Rugian fur and sheathed it.
Ilythra turned to Aimena’s brother. The Elder warrior was right. She had acted in anger and put the warriors at risk. “If it had been a trap, they would not have appeared so carefree.” It still set her teeth on edge. The Rugians had been walking through the forest as though it was theirs. As though they’d already won the right to do so.
He nodded. “They did not seem like an attacking army.”
They had seemed like a victorious army. Ilythra left the thought unspoken but by the look on Cavin’s face, he knew it too.
The empty feeling in her stomach deepened. “From here on, be on alert, bows ready. They will not be the last Rugians we see this day.”
* * *
Ilythra stood looking up at the stone spires of the castle, watching the deeper gray of the smoke drift until it was lost in the expanse of blue. Despite her assurance that morning, they’d met no further Rugians.
Where were the attackers? Where were the defenders? But she thought she knew. Somehow, despite how impossible it seemed, the Rugians had defeated Isolden.
The sun sank into the west when Arien’s army joined them.
His expression told her everything. He also believed the castle was lost. Her eyes misted and she blinked rapidly. He nodded and they started up the road. Elder scouts fo
llowed them in the forest both ahead and behind to warn of any Rugian attack.
The castle gates stood before them, open. There was no sign of siege. Ilythra swallowed. Had they been betrayed? What had happened?
Tentatively, every nerve on edge, Ilythra followed Arien into the small courtyard at Garmach. It was a narrow opening, designed to trap an army between the inner and outer wall. A contingent held back, bows aimed at the heights.
Sweat ran down Ilythra’s face, despite the chilled air. She glanced up at the tops of the walls. There was no sign of a struggle. The cool gray rock soared above her, untouched by signs of fire, bloodshed or battle of any kind.
Arien ordered the gates closed behind them. They rounded a corner and stepped through a tunnel into the inner courtyard. Smoke from dying bonfires blurred the air. Several buildings had burned, leaving only the hull of blackened stone. Across, barrels of dried apples sat ready for a day at market. Nothing had been plundered. The silence sent chills down her spine. Arien dismounted and moved to one of the bonfires.
She followed but he held up a hand. “Don’t come any closer. You don’t need this memory.” When he turned around, his face was raw with sorrow. “It is the people of Garmach who burn.”
Bile rose into Ilythra’s throat. “How?” Her voice was rough with emotion.
Arien shook his head. “Search for survivors in groups of ten. Do not let your guard down.” His voice sounded deeper than usual.
Ilythra watched the Dawn Children separate and begin a methodical search. She turned slowly, seeing men and women wander through an open-air market, children run through the alleys between stalls and frustrated adults reprimanding them. She blinked and again saw only the husks of buildings and blackened stone.
Tears filled her eyes again.
A warm hand touched her shoulder. She looked up into golden-brown eyes. Arien brushed his fingers down her cheek.
Journey of the Wanderer Page 5