Journey of the Wanderer

by Shawna Thomas

  “It’s already over, you know.” Bredych leaned against the chair. “You’ve won some victories. I’ll give you that. But I’m playing the long game.” He placed his hands on the table and leaned forward until she could feel the air move with his words. “And you haven’t the time, skill or patience to play. You have been outclassed, Ilythra. Never forget it.”

  She met his black gaze. Did he know she’d collapsed the mountain? She suddenly smiled. No, he didn’t. He thought his Rugians had or would destroy whatever Dawn Children forces she’d managed to bring to Isolden.

  Bredych blinked. A small gesture, but it was enough to indicate his surprise at her reaction. She stared at the board before her. Her queen was in danger. She deftly moved a guardsman in place.

  She glanced up into Bredych’s eyes. Rage shown from the dark orbs and his skin paled. “You think I will run back and hide under Ewen’s protection because you took the time to threaten me? I am not one of the weaklings you surround yourself with to give you the illusion of power. I am a stone keeper.”

  A gentle breeze brushed through her mind, growing to a wind that buffeted her thoughts. Power surged through her. She closed her eyes and opened them to find Arien staring at her.

  Dirt covered his face, but his eyes shown with relief. “They named you incorrectly,” Arien said, his voice quiet. “You are not the Wanderer. You should have been Cat, for surely you have more than one life.”

  Ilythra moved. Every muscle in her body ached but she was whole. “I can’t argue with you.” She sat up and groaned. “Did it work?”

  Arien wrapped his arm around her waist and helped her stand. “Yes, it did. Once the mountain was collapsed, the Rugians panicked. We cut them down easily enough.”

  “So I missed the fight?” Her attempt at a smile fell short. Her jaw ached. “How many dead?” Her head pounded with each word, every movement.

  He shook his head. “I have not had word yet.”

  Warmth suffused her chest. He’d looked for her first.

  “Solrac and Rion are tending the wounded.”

  She examined her friend in the flickering light. “Of which you are one, Arien. Did you see a healer?”

  His jaw tightened, but he didn’t reply. “Cavin, drop the rope, please.”

  Cavin’s face blocked out the stars as Arien placed the loop in the rope around her foot. “Are you well enough to—”

  “Are you?” she demanded.

  “I am a healer, Ilythra. I know the extent of my wounds.”

  “I am a healer too. I know you should be resting and not digging through rock and rubble.” A prick of guilt accompanied the statement. She was not a true healer. She could not take sickness or mend a body from the inside out. She was only skilled in the use of herbs.

  Arien inclined his head but she saw his jaw work.

  “Are you two going to head up, or will you both die in need of a healer down there?” Cavin’s voice was without inflection.

  Ilythra smiled and tugged on the rope. He hauled her up. Arien followed.

  * * *

  Arien staggered after stepping away from the rope that drew him. A few smaller rocks skittered down the rubble. Ilythra reached out and steadied him. Even with the light of the stars, his face seemed too pale, and although they scrambled down a rock-strewn path to the ground, his gait was more unsteady that it should have been.

  “Where are the healers?” There was more command in her voice than even she intended.

  Cavin blinked. She knew there were at least two more healers in their ranks besides those Arien had named. The common practice was one healer for every fifty warriors, but as Arien was Neasai, chief of the healers, his company boasted a higher percentage. All the healers would have followed wherever Arien led had the healer not forbidden it for the sake of those left at Siann.

  “With the wounded,” he answered.

  “Bring one. Now.”

  Arien’s mouth opened but his face paled further. Sour bile rose in Ilythra’s throat. If something happened to him... She closed her eyes but only saw Bredych’s sardonic gaze.

  Cavin didn’t hesitate but inclined his head with a side glance at Arien. Ilythra helped Arien to the bottom of the pile of rocks and sat him down.

  “Where does it hurt?”

  “I’m just tired.”

  “This will go better if you stop being stubborn and answer the question.” She examined him. “You healed me, didn’t you?”

  He nodded, but his eyes were unfocused. She cradled his head on her lap.

  She shook her head, frustration and helplessness boiling in her mind with nowhere to go. How could she blame him? She would have done the same thing if she could.

  Solrac rushed forward. Slight of frame, he appeared much younger and weaker than he was. She’d learned not to underestimate him on the practice field. Now his delicate-featured face was smudged with dirt and smoke. His hazel eyes bore strain but his voice was steady. Without a word, he placed a hand on the side of Arien’s face and closed his eyes. When he opened them, he turned to Ilythra. “He must be taken to the shelter we’ve set up for the wounded.”

  A shiver of fear prickled up her spine and clutched her throat, catching her breath.

  Solrac placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “He will recover. He needs to rest.”

  Cavin picked up a limp Arien as though he weighed nothing.

  Ilythra stood, spine ramrod straight. Solrac’s hand fell away, but she didn’t miss the way his brows crowded together. She faced Cavin. “Carry him to the shelter. I’m right behind you.”

  The healer stood with her. “Stone keeper, a word.”

  Ilythra froze. She watched Cavin’s back for a moment and then turned to Solrac. They were the same height. She met his gaze.

  “You also need a healer.”

  “I’ll be fine. Arien—”

  “Arien began the work, yes, but it is not finished. And also, I detected something that was not...” He paused. “Not something I’ve seen myself but I have heard of it. I’m not familiar with all the powers of stone keepers. I’ve only seen two in my lifetime. I know Teann moves through you differently, but there was the impression of a different mindset. It faded almost immediately, but it was there.”

  Ilythra’s heart beat double. He’d detected Bredych. Had the man gotten inside of her mind? No, she’d just been dream casting. But a part of her didn’t believe it. “I was dream casting. You must have perceived the aftereffects. It does not affect my health.”

  Solrac nodded but didn’t lose the shadow of speculation in his gaze. “Speak of it to Ewen. He would know how best to advise you.”

  “I plan on it.” And she did. She’d intended to before, but then Isolden had happened. And now? Now what? They’d lost their only ally. She headed in the direction Cavin and Arien had gone. Soft footfalls fell in step behind her.

  “You still need a healer,” Solrac insisted.

  “How many dead?” She didn’t turn or answer him.

  “I do not know. The last number I’d heard was thirty.”

  A stone wedged in her throat. “How many wounded?”

  “At least twice that. Some of those human.”

  Damn, that left less than forty warriors to hold the castle should Bredych’s Rugians attack again. She stopped. After a few steps, so did Solrac. Why should they attack? Bredych had not known she’d thwarted his plan—destroyed his Rugian army. He wasn’t yet aware she’d buried them under a mountain. She gritted her teeth in grim satisfaction. He had said it was her move and she’d made it, but she wouldn’t wait for him to make his next move. It was time to stop reacting.

  She focused on the healer. “Where are the horses?”

  “Near the gate.”

  She altered her destination. Solrac had said Arien nee
ded rest. She’d make sure he got it. “Are you still able to heal?”

  “Yes.” Solrac sounded hesitant.

  Ilythra stopped. “Then do what you can.” She bowed her head.

  “You should rest with the wounded.”

  Ilythra took a deep breath. There was no time. She needed to move before Bredych found out his plan had been thwarted. “If you don’t heal me now, I’m going without it.”

  Solrac muttered something about humans under his breath but reached out and laid his hand on her head. Warmth suffused her skin; energy trailed down her body in a pain that was almost pleasure. The pressure of his hand disappeared.

  Ilythra opened her eyes. “Thank you.” She smiled and began walking toward the horses.

  “Where are you going?” Solrac called after her.

  Ilythra didn’t turn. “Take care of Arien. I’m going hunting.”

  * * *

  The ocean breeze blew against Bredych’s robes, bringing with it the scent of brine and algae. Birds swooped and cawed on air currents below him, diving every so often into the deep blue water to return with a silver fish. He stared across the depth. He couldn’t get the last encounter with Ilythra out of his mind. She had looked so smug. Soon she would see that her beloved Isolden was destroyed and then she’d discover the present he’d left for her inside the castle walls. He almost wished he could see her face when the Rugians poured from the depths of the earth.

  He breathed the salty air into his lungs. Life was about choices, and he’d chosen to give the Creeians and the wave riders something to fear. Ilythra would wait. He had no doubt she’d survive his trap. This wasn’t the one meant to end her. Of course, should her luck fail, he’d instructed his Rugians well on what to do with the stone. He grinned. If the Siobani emerged from their hiding place, they’d find the whole of Anatar turned against them or destroyed. They would have no friends, no allies, nowhere to turn.

  His robe flapped around his ankles. He’d been away from Edriel too long. He didn’t trust the prince. Perhaps it was time to arrange a hunting accident. The prince didn’t live a docile life, so the possibilities were vast. Or maybe he should just convince the king to send the prince away. It might be easier to get rid of him if he wasn’t surrounded by loyal men. Yes, it was time to return. Besides, he had a party to attend.

  The rock beneath warmed his feet even through the soles of his boots. The rocky cliffs soared above the vast ocean as though in defiance. Bredych gazed across the blue-green striated waters to the small brown boats in the distance. Soon they’d raise their sails and head north. He smiled. Or they might if he didn’t have other plans for them.

  The liege lords had finally begun to fear the raiders enough to stop bickering and band together. Wave riders were no danger to him, but they would serve to show his power. The white triangular sails lifted against the blue of the waters. Farther, he knew the dark sails of the slavers from Cree waited.

  Bredych breathed in. Teann filled him, and he felt himself grow larger, stronger, more powerful than his frame could hold, yet he continued, reaching deep into the earth, pulling power until his body almost couldn’t contain it. His fingers began to tingle. The vibration traveled through his frame until he was shaking. He opened his eyes and pushed his will out over the ocean. At first it appeared that nothing happened, but he could feel the changes. The waters began to bubble, the color lightening in places and darkening in others as shapes moved with deceptive speed under the weight of the ocean. With a roar, the first great creature breached the water’s surface, arching into the sky with the appearance of weightlessness, and then it crashed into one of the small boats. Before it had sunk beneath the waves, the next creature rose from the depths, then another and another. A fierce joy filled Bredych.

  From this distance, he couldn’t hear the screams as the men fell beneath the water, but he didn’t need to.

  Slowly, he let the power drain through him until he released the behemoths. The waters rippled under the sun where once a fleet had sailed. A single white sail moved slowly north as black sails crested the horizon. His Creeian fleet. They’d been instructed to let the survivors flee. They would be his messengers to the liege lords who might dare to oppose him. He turned his gaze to the small fishing village below him. Now unprotected. Only women and children and old men peopled the group of huts. But children grew and women whelped. Before his Creeian warriors were done, only carrion birds would thrive along the coast.

  Before he turned to leave, the drums vibrated across the waters. A steady beat designed to instill fear into the hearts of those on land. He pictured his Creeians with their metal-pierced faces and bone ornaments. It was said they took a token from every man, woman or child they killed and wove it into their bodies. He smiled as the first screams echoed from the village below. There would be many more piercings this night.

  Chapter Eight

  Ilythra reined in Melior. They’d made it down the exposed rocky slope without incident. She stared at the sea of deep green below her. She’d cut off her access to Bredych, but not to the Rugians. And there were Rugians out there; she could almost feel them. They’d feed off the unprotected settlements hidden in the trees before returning back to their land. The Rugians would know where Bredych was. They had to get their orders somehow. She didn’t care what it took; she’d find out what they knew.

  A wave of dizziness crashed over her and the stars wavered. She needed to appear weak to encourage the Rugians to attack, but it wouldn’t go well for her if she really was weak. Solrac had done wonders to heal her body, but she was far from top form. She smiled. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d faced the Rugians that way. They would show no mercy. She still bore the scars of the Rugian attacks as she’d journeyed the gauntlet in her mad dash to Dawn Children lands. The last attack had almost killed her. Would have if not for Arien. She turned to look back at the castle, now hidden by night and distance. If she squinted, she could see a few of the towers against the mountain, but only because she knew where to look.

  She turned around. There were two villages she knew of close by. She’d find a place to rest for the night and then in the morning, she’d find the Rugians. She would make them tell her where Bredych was and how to get to him. Anger burned low in her gut, driving out even her exhaustion. Only an act of will kept her from forgoing caution and hunting the Rugians by night.

  After a short search, she found a place to settle until morning. She didn’t light a fire, despite the chill. The last thing she needed was waking to a Rugian good morning. Wrapping her cloak around her body, she nestled in the space between two large roots. It was an ancient forest. Teann moved slowly and with great solemnity through the branches, deep in the earth through the massive roots. She thought about Arien’s brother and his wife, and her shoulders relaxed. She wondered what Ewen had thought of a human daughter. Did that mean he held the people of Isolden as kin? Then why hadn’t he moved to protect them? Bits and pieces of their conversation drifted back to her. Maybe he had. The Dawn Children were organized, but even they couldn’t assemble a force that quickly without word. Ewen must have prepared them.

  Weariness pulled her down further into the ground, but sleep wouldn’t come. She didn’t want to dream cast and give her advantage away. The less Bredych knew about the attack on Garmach, the better. “And you haven’t the time, skill or patience to play. You have been outclassed, Ilythra. Never forget it.” His words haunted her. Maybe she didn’t have the experience, but she learned quickly. She would defeat him. It was only a matter of time. She’d stopped him before; she’d stop him again. His overconfidence would be his downfall. But she needed to know what he was planning. She needed what the Rugians could tell her.

  “You’re on guard, Mel.”

  The horse snorted and nosed at the ground, looking for something to eat.

  “Yup, just like old times.” Ilythra curled
tighter into the cloak. “Wake me before someone tries to kill me.”

  * * *

  Spears of misty light cut through the trees, touching the forest floor. Ilythra rode through the early morning silence. She hadn’t thought long enough about what she was doing to pack food for the journey, so she broke her fast drinking from a very cold stream. Her stomach mumbled in protest. Melior’s hooves made little noise as he walked through the forest.

  Her muscles protested each movement and her head ached, but she ignored them. The town was close. There should have been sounds of children playing. She tapped Melior’s side, and he easily jumped over a fallen tree that stretched out in both directions as far as she could see. The trees here were massive, the bark so deep and grooved she could place her entire palm in the cracks on the tree’s trunk. They stretched up into the heavens until she lost sight of them. The lowest branches were well above her, or any human’s reach. The path she rode was free from the typical forest debris and wide enough for a cart, cutting its way through the underbrush like a dusty river.

  A cool breeze brought the scent of smoke, and Ilythra’s stomach twisted. She reached up to loosen her sword and shrugged the bow onto her shoulder. With practiced ease, she nocked an arrow. The clearing opened before them. At first the village looked untouched. The houses huddled with a crude wooden fence surrounding them. But as she approached, a flock of birds darkened the sky, and Melior whinnied. It took her longer, but soon the scent of blood and decay reached her nose.

  The dead lay where they’d fallen. Sightless eyes stared up to the blue sky. Men, women, children. The Rugians had spared no one. Drawing her sword, she dismounted and one by one, kicked each door open, searching for survivors. She only found more dead. From the state of the corpses, some deaths had taken longer than others.