“Fine,” Lukas said. “Leisha and Andelko for Adrojan, but I want something else in return. The king’s—” the title stuck in his throat. “There’s a horse farm, near Ola, south of Lida. You’ve already overrun it. It’s full of Zaraki’s Aulerons. Whatever of the animals are left, I want them.”
Frowning, Von tried to recall taking any horse farm grand enough for the Embriel prince to be interested in. “Sire, I’m not certain, but I think I know which farm you mean. I’ll be happy to inquire. I guarantee you’ll have your horses if I can locate them. Now, these flowers. Let me explain how to use them and then I’ll teach you a few ways to mask your thoughts from people like her.”
***
“Our horses are across the green. Where did you tie yours?”
Sarika laughed. “Eamon, you have been gone a long while, haven’t you? We walked here.”
He should have remembered. Few in these mountains had horses; they could not afford them or they did not need one with the next settlement so close. Some villages owned a few and shared them, but those horses pulled plows and wagons.
“So you’ll need to buy me a horse. I assume the queen of Tahaerin can afford one?”
After bartering for a mare, Jan went in search of tack for the animal. Having secured that, the odd little party headed towards Navsi, a tiny village huddled in the furthest corner of the valley. Here the mind readers fleeing the purge a hundred years ago hid what of their history they saved.
Sarika and Oszkar shared the mount and said their silent goodbyes as the sun sank behind the snow-topped peaks.
***
Eamon watched the little village as Jan followed Sarika between the houses. He thought the chances of anyone recognizing him here were remote, but he had thought the same thing when they entered Dombrad. So he sent Jan in to watch for trouble while Sarika retrieved the scrolls she thought Leisha should read.
“Oszkar,” he asked. “Will you be okay? I mean, will they punish you?”
The other man shrugged, not appearing terribly concerned. “Probably not. I’m old and I’ll blame Sarika,” he said, laughing. “Her village wanted to banish her, but I talked them into letting her work with me with the scrolls. She’ll never come back here. She’s not meant to waste her life in these mountains.”
Oszkar looked at the intense young man next to him. “Please take care of Sarika. She feels a great sense of responsibility. It bothers her that your queen has never met another mind reader—it’s something we can’t imagine. Sarika wants to help her.”
With the last of the evening light, Eamon finally saw Jan racing across the village green towards their hiding spot. Following close behind, Sarika clutched a leather pouch against her chest and a pack for travel slung across her back. Quickly, he helped Oszkar off the horse and thanked the old man for his help.
“We should go,” Sarika said as soon as she reached them, looking guilty. Grabbing the reins of her horse from Eamon’s hands, she put her foot in the stirrup.
“Did someone see you?” Eamon asked.
“Yes, someone did.” She turned to her uncle. “It was Vincenze, Oszkar. He came in as I was looking for the scrolls. Are you going to help me up or not?” she demanded.
Taking the pouch, Eamon offered her a hand up into the saddle. “And this Vincenze? He’s coming after you?” he asked.
“Well, he did try to stop me. He thought he’d found me alone and that we’d rekindle our relationship. Jan took care of it, though. Someone will find him in the morning unless he gets out of the ropes early.” She gave her uncle a final look before turning her horse. “So we should go.”
Cheylm
A week after leaving the meeting with Andrzej, the town of Prem appeared. A neat, compact settlement, Prem guarded a pass through the mountains that led to Lida. Cheylm Castle sat a short distance away. Meant as a defensive structure to deter an Embriel invasion, the fortress huddled behind a tall curtain wall. Former Tymek lords built the castle using newer techniques than those used to build Branik, and so it looked more like a residence and less like a chunk stone tossed from the mountains. Zaraki wished they were visiting under happier circumstances.
Situated in the middle of the Tymek plains, Leisha confiscated the town, castle and the lands around it from her uncle, Staval. She cast his family out of their ancestral home for their complicity in his plot to take her throne. Zaraki remembered how Leisha whispered the words, I can’t marry a commoner, into his ear. Then she made him—a landless, orphaned peasant who could not even remember his mother’s name—Lord of the Tymek.
Zaraki loved his lands and the sense of purpose they gave him. Governing them, even from afar in Lida, pleased him and kept him from getting bored, all part of the grand plan Leisha devised in the weeks after her uncle’s attempted coup. And here, he recited the vows and spoke the promises that made her his wife.
They rode side by side through a gate, under several portcullises and through a second and third gate before emerging into the castle yard. Hand in hand, they walked up the stairs from the entrance hall and found their small suite of rooms just as they left it two years ago.
***
Early the next morning, a servant found Leisha as she wandered through the pretty herb gardens her uncle had left behind. When he handed her the letter, she saw Lukas’s seal stamped in the red wax and turned it over in her hand several times. She hated the memories of him and still felt embarrassed over their affair. Tearing up the letter and pitching it in the castle well crossed her mind.
Instead, she cracked the seal with its ridiculous jumping trout motif and read the words her former lover had penned.
Leisha,
I hope this finds you well. I did try to intervene on your behalf, but Andrzej is adamant that he won’t send troops to aid you yet. He feels certain you can defeat these invaders on your own. Honestly, he fears becoming embroiled in a Tahaerin conflict given the two kingdoms’ history. I don’t think that’s fair, but you know Andrzej. Stubborn and uncaring are the words that leap to my mind.
Leisha, you know I have fond feelings for your kingdom. Davos was always kind to me. I have soldiers and men that are mine, outright. Andrzej won’t approve, but he doesn’t have much say in what I choose to do with them. I’m willing to put them at your disposal if we can come to some agreements.
Should you be interested, I’d like to meet and talk terms. My father has me traveling south to complete the inspections of the fortifications along the river.
Send word with my messenger if you’re interested. And, if you do come, bring your Lord Constable so the army men can talk strategies.
Lukas
***
Over breakfast, Leisha told them all the contents of the letter she received. “What does everyone think of Lukas’s magnanimity?”
“He wants something from us,” Symon said immediately. “Lorant’s lands were overrun a couple of months ago. Terms will be the use of his army in return for recapturing Adrojan quickly.”
Zaraki nodded in agreement. “That makes the most sense. Lukas’s holdings are extensive. I’ve never seen a full accounting of his lands, but he could have a fair-sized army at his disposal.”
“Why would he go against his father?” Aniska wondered.
“Because he was raised with Lorant and his family. He’s never been close to his father,” Leisha said, remembering conversations with Lukas about their shared experience of being hostages in foreign kingdoms. When her father agreed to send her to Embriel as a hostage, Andrzej sent Lukas to Tahaerin to guarantee Leisha would be cared for. Instead of keeping him close in Lida, Leisha’s father sent him to Adrojan to live with Lorant’s family.
Lukas said his upbringing in Adrojan had been idyllic. Treated as a member of the family, he enjoyed hawking and hunting, parties, visits to other nobles and trips to Lida. For the ten years, he lived with them and stayed on after his release, rather than returning to Embriel and a family he did not remember. He loved Lorant like a brother.
> Leisha put her elbows on the table and rested her head on her hands. “I don’t know what to make of this. Is it a genuine offer of assistance? Do we need his help?”
“We need men,” Symon began. “I would suggest we take them up on the offer if his terms are reasonable.”
“I didn’t sense any hostility or deceit in Lukas or Andrzej when we met last,” Leisha said. “I’m not Andrzej’s friend, but we’ve never been enemies. Of course, Lukas and I did not part on the best of terms.” In the back of her mind lay Andrzej’s rebuke that she had not reached out to the other monarchs or tried to forge closer ties. Though she hated to consider dealing with Lukas again, perhaps this would go some distance to mollifying his father.
“He wasn’t happy to see me,” Zaraki added, smiling broadly.
Leisha laughed, remembering Lukas’s tumbling emotions—annoyance, hostility and so much jealousy. “I’m sure it’s hard to see your replacement get everything you wanted.” She started to suggest Zaraki stay behind this time to keep from antagonizing her former lover, but she knew he would never agree to that. “I don’t like this last part about you coming with us, though, Andelko. Would you be comfortable staying here? If something happens, we’ll have someone here who can lead the kingdom for a while.”
An angry cloud passed over Andelko’s face. “Leisha,” he began, sounding a warning.
Holding up a hand, she interrupted him. “I don’t want to spend all day in Lukas’s camp while you and his captains hash out a strategy. That can come later and without me having to play the good little queen and listen to another wretched story about hawking or drinking. Besides, someone has to stay behind and run this place. Who else would you suggest?” When he had no answer, she went on. “I’m not asking you to crown yourself king while we’re gone. Just keep some order. Besides, it’s only Lukas.”
Andelko relented. “Yes, all right. Ani and I’ll need some time to make arrangements, but it shouldn’t be hard. As you said, it’s just Lukas.”
***
Pushing hard, Eamon and his little party traveled down from the mountains and onto the Ostravan plain. After the discovery of Edik’s betrayal, he did not want to linger in Streza any longer than necessary. He felt exposed and vulnerable traveling with an unarmed woman who Leisha very badly needed, so he rushed them along and kept them out of large towns and taverns.
Sarika noticed the people following them first. She could sense the attention they paid to her and the questions they had about why she left her mountains to follow Eamon to Tahaerin. “We’re being watched,” she said under her breath as they rode near Kajetan.
“How do you know?” Eamon asked, and then cursed himself. Of course she would know. “How many?”
“Just one, but she’s been following us for a bit. I wasn’t sure at first, but now I am. To our left, passing through the crowd. Her name is Talit.”
It could not be a coincidence the cohort behind his had a spy named Talit. She might be the first, but Eamon knew there would be more.
“Edik’s way of making sure we know not to return,” Jan grunted.
Eamon caught sight of the woman finally and did recognize her. He urged his mount on and they passed through Kajetan without stopping.
As they left the city, Talit faded into the throng of people at the gate and Sarika felt her thoughts. “She won’t follow us, but there are more waiting.”
All along the road home, they spotted people shadowing them, discreetly, but tracking them nonetheless.
The other Ostravans kept their distance, but their presence made Eamon angry. He had not broken any rules in returning to Streza. In fact, he extended Cezar and Lord Edik more courtesy than his oaths required by informing them of his visit. It irked him and reminded him once more than Ostrava had never been more than a means to an end for him. He enjoyed the work, but this was not what he wanted to do for the rest of his life. Like Zaraki, Eamon dreamed of more.
***
Sarika enjoyed the trip immensely, thrilled to see life outside the mountains and valleys her people hid in. If being followed by the Ostravans bothered her, she gave no indication—though she did occasionally point them out when she noticed them trailing behind their party. She begged Eamon to ride through Arnost so she could see the great city with its tree-lined boulevards and huge, sprawling palace. When they spent the night in Achym, she delighted in Zaraki’s house.
As they crossed the river and approached Cheylm, Sarika felt her apprehension growing. She wanted to help and she wanted to show people back home they did not need to hide in their mountains any longer. But faced with meeting a queen and satisfying vague expectations to help her win a war, Sarika felt small and inadequate. Compared to others, her talent was not a great one, and seeing the people that moved through cities like Arnost and Prem, she thought her clothes terribly unfashionable and certainly not appropriate for a royal court.
They rode in silence for the last hour, and as they passed through the gates of the castle, she wanted to turn back. “What’s your queen like, Jan?” she asked, wondering what had possessed her to make this journey into exile. Streza seemed a world away.
He smiled at her warmly. “You’ll find Her Majesty is very kind and very eager to meet you. You’ll have a great deal to talk about beyond those scrolls you brought.”
His words carried fondness and pride. Reminding herself she was here as a favor to the Tahaerin queen, Sarika sat up straight in her saddle and tried not to stare open-mouthed at the stone castle in front of her.
***
After handing their horses off, Eamon turned Sarika over to Symon. The kind old man reminded her of Oszkar, and he spoke warmly to her as they wound through the biggest building Sarika had ever been inside.
He found her a small room and showed her where she could bathe off all the grime from their trip. Maids came to take her clothes to wash and told her when to come down for meals. Unpacking her few belongings, Sarika sat on the edge of the far too nice bed, tired and bewildered. What am I doing here? she wondered as a wave of homesickness washed over her.
She jumped when she heard a soft knock at the door. For a second, she imagined pretending no one was in the room, but that seemed foolish after coming this far. Her mind brushed over the thoughts of the person outside the door, hoping it might be Eamon or Jan, someone she knew. Without thinking, she responded as she would have at home. Who is it?
Instead of words, she felt only a rush of wonderment and awe as the other mind reached out to her.
“Your Majesty, I’m so sorry,” Sarika stammered as she yanked the door open, kicking herself and barely remembering to bow to the stunned, dark-haired woman standing in the hallway.
Leisha stared at her with wide eyes. Overwhelmed, she had no idea what to say. In Lida, with Edvard, she felt violated, unable to stop him from forcing the images into her. But here, for the first time, she heard and felt someone speak to her mind and it felt beautiful, full of lovely thoughts and emotions. It felt wholly different than reading someone else’s mind—the difference between singing a song and hearing musicians perform it. Finally, here stood someone that could understand her.
“Sarika, I’m so happy you’re here. I’ve waited so long to meet— Thank you for coming,” Leisha said, her voice choked and full of emotion.
“Please come in, Your Highness.” Sarika stepped aside and smiled at the fair-haired man that followed her in.
In her mind she heard a tentative, My husband, and realized this was the king.
“Sarika, thank you for coming so far,” Zaraki said, thinking he had rarely seen his wife so unsettled. She moved into the room in a daze, before sitting down in a small chair, surprise and delight playing across her face. “How was your trip?”
The young woman bobbed a flustered curtsy at him before looking back at Leisha. Realizing they probably spoke to each other where he could not hear, he smiled. “Don’t mind me. I’m just here to keep an eye on her.”
As he watched, Sarika went
to sit in a chair near Leisha and they sat that way for an hour, barely moving. It unnerved him to see their faces, nearly blank, devoid of expression.
***
After an hour or more of communion, they withdrew from each other’s minds. Sarika loved the childlike wonder in Leisha’s thoughts. She could not imagine growing up without any other mind reader to talk to and learn from. It must have been like living with people who spoke a different language. No matter how they tried to communicate, there was always something missing.
They both stood and stretched after sitting for so long. Leisha saw Zaraki had fled and vaguely remembered him leaving.
Grabbing her small pack from home, Sarika said, “Your Highness, I brought two scrolls that I think will help you if you can read them. Eamon said you could. Our traditions say these were brought from your kingdom to the mountains during the purge, but one we believe is far older. Oszkar, my uncle, thought it might have come with your people when they arrived here because it’s in a foreign language we’ve always believed was old Tahaerin.”
Leisha could not help but see the irony of their situation. History said the Tahaerins invaded and conquered this land three hundred years ago and now it was happening all over again.
“This first scroll is likely a history of your people. It’s of less use, but we thought it might be of interest to you. It’s a copy, but still an old one.” She handed over a carved, wooden cylinder.
Pulling on one stoppered end revealed a collection of documents. Leisha leafed through them, picking out words she recognized and familiarizing herself once more with the strange language. If only they could capture one of the Cursed, she could delve into his mind and learn to read the odd writing with more proficiency.
After skimming over several pages, Leisha looked up, a delighted smile on her face. “Your guess was right. This is a collection of stories that tell a history of the Tahaerins, from their point of view. It says that three hundred years ago, an emperor ruled over different tribes of people. The Tahaerins were just one of many. This emperor sent a group of them to capture the lands here for the emperor and then send back word to him. Apparently, they landed, killed everyone, and took the land for themselves. They never returned home.”
As Dragons from Sleep (The Tahaerin Chronicles Book 2) Page 17