by James Dale
"I am far from defenseless," the Ailfar smiled, as if reading his thoughts. "You should know that by now Jack. Even Galen Severna will not find it so easy to follow you."
Jack fixed the Ailfar woman with a fierce scowl, trying to change her mind by sheer force of will. But Cil’lena returned the hard look with an unwavering glare of her own. After several long seconds he dropped his eyes with a resigned sigh. "Promise me you won't take any foolish risks," he said quietly. "Don't be a damn storybook heroine!"
"I have spent eight hundred years in these mountains," Cil’lena smiled. "Rest assured, I will not be easily caught."
Jack reached out impulsively and enfolded the Ailfar woman in a tight embrace. "Athlena du Cil’lena Silverstar," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you. For everything. I owe you my life."
She returned his hug with a brief, affectionate squeeze of her own. When she released she reached up and caressed his cheek. “You are very much like him, you know? You have your mother’s eyes. There is strength in you Jack Bra’Adan. Much if you learn how to use it. Go now. Please. If you are caught here, my eight hundred years of faithful watch will have been in vain."
"Find Tereil for me," Jack said, hugging Cil’lena one last time and kissing her cheek before climbing onto Eaudreuil's back. "Tell him...with or without Tarsus I must have the Galekindar at Immer in time for the Haelfest."
"I will," Cil’lena assured him. "This valley will exit on the eastern side of the Margalags. Once beyond them you must travel west sometime yet until you find the River Whesguard. It will lead you north to Brydium until you can find a safe place to ford. Have a care Jack Braedan. The lands you will travel are the realm of Mullah ad’Jhen. There are good people among the Kadinar, but they still fear the Bloodstone’s master."
"The Tears!" Jack cried, suddenly remembering the stones.
"I will keep them for now," the Ailfar woman said. "I might find a use for them yet. Do not fret," she said quickly, stilling the objection forming on his lips. "Maelcain will have his bridge. I will see they are returned to the Jahrkirin. They will be outcast no longer."
"Thank you," Jack nodded.
"For the last time, go!" Cil’lena cried, and slapped Eaudreuil sharply on his rump. "Fare thee well Jack Bra ‘Adan!"
Chapter Eight
Blood Debt
As the Val'anna leapt forward with a bound, Jack twisted around for a last parting look. Cil’lena had already turned back to face the dark opening of the tunnel, her feet spread wide apart, body enveloped in a defiant blue aura of power. With a curse Jack let Eaudreuil have full reign, leaning forward against the stallion's neck as it thundered down into the narrow valley at breakneck speed.
He cask occasional, anxious glances back over his shoulder toward the exit to Cil’lena's cavern but only once did he see anything he could have been interpreted as signs of pursuit, or that the Ailfar woman had engaged Galen or his minions. A single flash of blue light seemed to dance briefly along the crown of a distant hill, but it barely lasted the span of two heartbeats before dissipating. There was no accompanying clap of thunder he'd learned to associate with the release of her strange power. Neither was there any answering flash of red markring the presence of one of Graith's sorcerers. What the brief flash meant, whether it boded well or ill for Cil’lena, Jack could not say. He turned his face back to the north and silently urged Eaudreuil on to greater speeds while his resolve to flee still held.
In time, the narrow valley slowly began to widen until it was nearly a mile or more across. The steep hillsides flanking its length lost much of their ruggedness, though they remained barren and hard, with many scattered boulders and rocky outcrops. When no pursuit appeared on their trail after an hour, Jack slowed the stallion from his frantic pace to a steady, settling into rhythmic gallop that devoured leagues by the hour.
Noon came and went, and with its passing the hills on their right gradually melted into a rolling, grassless plain stretching as far as the eye could see. By the time the sun began to slip behind the Margalags on their left, they had gone nearly thirty leagues with no sign of pursuit. Jack guided Eaudreuil a short distance up into the foothills until they found a small knot of short, gnarled scrub trees at the entrance to a narrow draw. It provided scant cover but there was not much else to choose from in this barren wilderness. He pushed his thoughts out into the surrounding hills as he dismounted, searching for signs of life, but he could detect no trace of any living thing for miles around.
"No one has followed us," the Val'anna remarked, his nostrils flaring as he sniffed the wind. "Cil’lena Horse-sister has completed her task."
"But at what cost?" Jack sighed. Judas Bloody Hell! At what cost?
"Do not fear for her," the roan beamed. "She is strong for a two-legs. I have met only one who is her equal."
"And who might that be?" Jack asked.
"Why...you of course Horse-brother." the Val'anna replied.
They settled down in the center of the small stand of trees as darkness descended on the hills. Braedan strung the horn bow and placed the Talon of the Hawk within easy reach before wrapping his heavy cloak around his shoulders and drifting off into fitful sleep, trusting Eaudreuil's sharp hearing to warn them of any approaching danger.
The night passed uneventfully and morning arrived with the same overcast sky as the preceding day. Jack shared the contents of one water-skin with Eaudreuil and two small cakes provided by Cil’lena, then quickly packed away his gear and they headed north once more, leaving the horn bow strung with an arrow notched and ready for firing.
They traveled hard all day, covering another thirty leagues without seeing signs of pursuit. Just before sunset Jack shot a large hare, flushed out of its hiding place in a knot of tall grass by Eaudreuil's pounding hooves. They stopped to make camp under a rocky overhang not long after where he dressed the rabbit, then built a small, smokeless cook fire before settling down for the night.
The next day dawned bright and clear and saw the Margalags slowly diminish into small, barren hills before finally melting away completely into rolling plains covered with dead, winter brown grass. That night they made camp under a lone thorn tree, the only cover visible for miles in every direction. Jack and Eaudreuil shared another water-skin and another bundle of cakes, these sweet and filled with chopped nuts which tasted like almonds.
A slim, sickle shaped moon climbed slowly into the night sky to add its meager light to the twinkling canopy of stars. As he watched the deepening night, a shower of meteors suddenly streaked across the heavens and Jack wondered briefly if Annawyn might be seeing this same beautiful, cosmic dance. The thought she might be viewing this same sight, many miles to the west in Dorshev, perhaps standing on a balcony overlooking her peaceful, white walled city, comforted him as he pulled his cloak about his shoulders and drifted off to weary sleep.
When morning came Jack turned Eaudreuil away from the rising sun and they headed in a northwesterly direction toward the River Whesguard, their guide to Brydium. For the next three days they journeyed across barren, rolling hills. The only other living things they saw in this time was a flock of high-flying geese, migrating north in Vee formation, returning from their winter home somewhere in the Deep South. But their solitary wandering was soon to end.
On the afternoon of the seventh day since they had been flushed from their hiding place in Cil’lena’s cavern, the peaceful tranquility of the plains was suddenly shattered by a deep, angry roar. Though it was some distance off to the west, the abrupt end to the perpetual silence brought Eaudreuil to a confused halt. Jack quickly slipped the horn bow from his back and notched an arrow, at the same time pushing his thoughts out before him and silently urging the Val‘anna forward.
He was immediately filled with a rush of sharp emotions, a jumbled mixture of pain and rage and frustration. As they came to the crest of a low hill, Jack directed Eaudreuil forward warily until he could see over the rise. About a hundred yards to the west was a single, leafl
ess scrub tree. Clinging precariously to one of its lower branches was a figure. Below it, pacing angrily back and forth at the base of the tree, was a large, dun colored lion with a shaggy red mane. Even from this distance, Jack could see the fletching of an arrow protruding from its broad shoulder.
As he watched, the enraged beast wiped its head around and jerked the shaft from its body with a savage roar, then leaped up at the small figure above. Though its outstretched claws fell short of its treed prey, a boy perhaps...cringed with fright on his perch and the sudden shifting of his weight caused the slim branch to dip dangerously. Without a second's hesitation, Jack began shouting at the top of his lungs to drawn the lion's attention away from the youth as he dug his heels into the stallion's flanks and they bolted forward.
As the lion wheeled to face him, the branch holding the boy gave way with a loud snap, and he tumbled to the ground only a few feet from the animal. Torn between his vulnerable prey and this new threat galloping nearer, the lion hesitated and Jack loosed his arrow. He had never shot from horse back before and the bolt fell short of the beast, striking the earth between its front paws. The lion roared in challenge and bounded toward them with great, loping strides as Jack quickly notched another arrow and brought it to his cheek. Fifty yards. Thirty. Release. His second shot, carefully aimed, flew straight and true, sinking deep into the charging beast’s board chest. It took a single, staggering step forward, then collapsed in a heap.
Jack leapt from Eaudreuil's back as the roan thundered to a halt and drawing the Talon of the Hawk, thrust the sharp blade into the body of the weakly struggling lion. It gave one last shudder, stiffened, then lay still. He knelt down beside the beast and lay a tentative hand on its bloody chest, searching for signs of life. There was a brief, fleeting flicker, then blackness. The lion was dead.
"Ware Horse-brother! Riders come!" the Val'anna neighed suddenly in warning.
An instant later Braedan heard the approaching thunder of many hooves. He sprang to his feet and sprinted to the tree where the boy was sitting wide eyed, clutching his right arm tight against his chest. He was perhaps twelve or thirteen years old at the most, with large brown eyes, black hair and sun darkened skin the color of old wood.
"Are you okay?" asked Jack, kneeling down by the boy.
"Shar'el ba Ghomari!" the youth whispered, eyeing the bloody sword in his hand. "Nah ju Ahala bid!"
"I won't hurt you," Jack said soothingly. "Stay behind me. There are riders coming."
The words had scarcely passed his lips before a column of mounted lancers galloped out of the west and came charging towards them. There were two dozen riders at least, sand colored cloaks streaming behind them as the rode, all wearing chain-mail and bowl-shaped helmets topped with a spike and supporting a curtain of mail to protect the neck. Jack stood, placing himself between the charging horsemen and the boy, as Eaudreuil pranced to stand by his side, nostrils flaring and teeth bared dangerously.
"Kadda'Jhen!" the boy cried behind him. "Kadda'Jhen!"
"Stay behind me!" Jack hissed, raising his sword to the high guard positions as the column broke around the tree, quickly encircling them. They thundered to a halt and lowered long lances tipped with a foot of gleaming steel at Jack's chest. Their faces were veiled against the dust and only their eyes were visible; dark, vengeful eyes glaring at him menacingly.
"Qin era'sha!" one of the riders commanded sharply. Jack could not tell which. "Qin era'sha! Mas ta!”
"Not today," Jack replied grimly. "Why don't you gentlemen go play somewhere else?"
"Qin era'sha! Mas ta!"
"Shar'el ba Ghomari!" the boy shouted at the riders, moving to stand in front of Jack. "Na dan Ahala bid!"
"Akea?" one of the riders asked, urging his mount forward. "Manar akea!"
"Shar'el na Ghomar!" the boy repeated, gesturing beyond them towards the dead lion.
"Jhinala!" the rider said sharply.
One of the horsemen nodded wordlessly and broke from the circle, riding out to inspect the dead beast while the others kept their lances leveled at Jack. Leaning down from his saddle, he pulled the arrow the lion's chest and quickly returned it to the apparent leader of the group. He studied the arrow for a second, then compared it to the arrows still in the quiver on Jack's back.
"Kha," he nodded finally. "Mhudi a'khala." He reached up to remove his veil as the remaining rider slowly raised their lances, then uncovered their faces as well.
The boy turned to Jack and smiled reassuringly. "Kadda'Jhen alar. Ahala bid."
"Lower your weapon Dori'dai," the leader said to Jack, speaking in the common tongue of the Whesguard. "You will not be harmed. Manar says you saved him from the Ghomari. He claims Ahala bid on your behalf."
"Ahala bid," the boy nodded, reaching up to place his uninjured hand on Jack's shoulder.
"And what, is Ahala bid?" Jack asked, slowly lowering his weapon.
"Blood debt," the leader translated, studying him with dark, searching eyes. He removed his helmet, revealing close cropped black hair, sprinkled with grey and a neatly trimmed beard. "I am Hamman ad'Jhen, the boy's uncle. To those my nephew extends Ahala bid, I am beholden as well. I am also a Khan of the Kadda'Jhen of Kadin,” he added slowly. ”My Blood Debt is shared by all Jhen. What is your name Doridanian?"
"I am Jack Braedan, Hamman Khan," Jack replied, removing his own helmet and bowing. "Honor on the House of ad'Jhen."
By luck or fate, he had given the appropriate greeting and the Kadinar's grim visage became curious. "Honor on the House of...Braedan," he said slowly. "Our camp is not far. Will you accept our hospitality?"
Several of the warriors stiffened at their leader's offer, a few muttering angrily. "It is his right under Ahala bid," the Khan said, turning on them. "Who will gainsay me?"
"But he is a White Horse of the Dora'dai!" the one called Jhalina stammered.
"Who saved the life of Manar ad'Jhen!" Hamman countered hotly, "He has been granted the protection of Blood Debt. While he remains among the Jhen, you will treat him with all respect due under the law. Understood? Understood!"
"Yes, my Khan," Jhalina finally bowed.
"I apologize for Jhalina," Hamman said, turning back to Jack. "He is young yet and still thinks all men from the west have two heads and devour Kadinar children for breakfast."
"Apology accepted," Jack replied, kneeling to wipe his bloody sword the grass. "I would be honored to accept whatever hospitality you offer Hamman Khan. I have been…long on the road and my supplies are, well, limited."
"Then you will rest and be resupplied under our tents," the Kadinar nodded, then stretched his hand down to the boy. "Bala'ka Manar."
"Bala'ka...Jaak," the youth replied, pointing at Braedan.
"Na? Hish!"
"Bala'ka Jaak!" the boy insisted forcefully.
"Manar wishes to...ride with you Jack Braedan," Hamman said hesitantly, plainly troubled by the request. For some reason however, he seemed unable refuse the boy's demand. "Will you consent to bear him?"
Jack looked down at the youngster who smiled at him hopefully. "If it won't cause any trouble."
"It will not," the Kadinar replied, giving the men around him a hard look. "Jhalina, take Hassef and bring the Ghomar."
"Yes, my Khan," Jhalina nodded, but as he wheeled his mount, he shot Jack a distrustful glare.
"Shall we ride?" Hamman said, turning to Braedan. Jack quickly sheathed the Talon of the Hawk, then lifted the grinning boy onto Eaudreuil's back, climbing up behind him. When they were settled, Hamman nodded to the horsemen around them and they reformed their column, falling into twin files behind their leader.
"Tell me Jack Braedan," Hamman said as began to make their way west. "How is it a Knight of the White Horse, with such a...disquieting name, happens to be in the land of the Kadda'Jhen?"
"Am I to be put to question Hamman Khan?" Jack asked warily. Saving the young boy's life had apparently also saved his own, but the land of Kadin was an ally of Gorthiel and an
ancient foe of the Whesguard Alliance. How far would this Blood Debt hold if he told them the truth?
"You seem to know something of our ways," Hamman replied. "Surely you must also know the bonds of Ahala bid do not permit such a thing. I am but curious. Would you not ask me the same if you suddenly came upon one of the Jhen outside the walls of Dorshev?"
Jack thought quickly. What could he safely tell a Kadinar? Hamman Khan seemed an honorable man, but there was no way he was going to tell him the real reason he was trespassing on their lands, Blood Debt or not. Then it came to him. The Elohara was perhaps something a warrior like Hamman would possibly understand. "I have been on a Quest," he replied slowly. "A Vision Quest."
"Ah," the Kadinar nodded, as if that answer explained everything. "And has your...quest been successful?" he asked, inclining his head toward the grim'Hiru cloak and the silver amulet at Jack's throat.
"I am still alive," Jack shrugged. "I have done all I can here at any rate. I am returning to...to the west. Passing through your land by unfortunate circumstance. I mean the Jhen no harm. I would have avoided Kadin if it had been possible."
"Fortunate for Manar you could not, Eh?" Hamman chuckled. "Though he may wish the Ghomari had taken him when his mother hears of this little adventure." From the way the boy stiffened in front of him, Jack guessed the boy knew enough of the common tongue to understand his uncle's threat.
They rode on in silence for the next few miles, then the column topped a low rise and the Kadinar camp suddenly sprang into view. There were nearly a hundred small tents scattered in a rough circle around a large pavilion. A picket line of fifty or more horses was located on the side nearest them and visible in the distance about two hundred yards further on was a wide, slow moving river. As the column came riding in a score of warriors ran out to meet them. They were all dressed in chainmail like the escort around Jack, and they each gave him hard, suspicious looks when they saw Eaudreuil and the White Horse helmet he held under his arm.