Jerrid stopped his mount, Ike, when it reached the stream bank opposite from the city. He looked back. Axel soon joined him riding upon a heavy-limbed mountain horse named Jay.
Jerrid’s eye was drawn to the narrow channel beneath the bridge. Water rushed along the base of the granite cliff wall, tickling his senses. As his gaze traveled upward he noted that the only sign that a city rested on the cliffs above, was the bridge itself and the rectangular entrance to the tunnel that lead to Yargis. The far end of the drawbridge seemed ready to be swallowed up into the darkened opening.
With a vantage from that creek bank, both riders and their mounts took great interest as the end of the drawbridge suddenly began to rise. From the entrance across the creek Telmin waved and let out a loud whoop. Many other Shapers crowded beside him. Some watched in silent amazement and some cheered. As the bridge rose higher they became obscured from view but their cheers continued. When the gate finally came to a stop in its closed position, the only sound left was that of the stream.
“To an untrained eye the cliff face looks natural now, no sign even of the gated entrance to the city,” Jerrid said flatly. Though proud of the contributions he’d made to its construction, he suddenly felt very alone.
“It’s exciting and at the same time, there’s a sadness that I can’t explain,” Axel responded.
Jerrid looked toward him and their eyes met.
“I understand,” the younger man choked. “You brought me here, in sorrow. I was just twelve. It was only a few months after the Sortiri attack on Garth. Since then, this has been our home, our refuge. That attack changed everything for us. My mother, your Lamil, she’s the last thing to fix, now that the gate is shut.”
“Don’t give up hope, Jerrid,” Axel sighed. “That’s what they want, the Sortiri. They are killers of hope. I know that one day my daughter will look at us again with life in her eyes. I know we’ll see her old smile.”
Jerrid wanted to be hopeful. After so many years of hiding he longed it. And even if hope failed he needed something else to fill the void that grew in his heart at the end of each day when there was nothing to do but think about tomorrow. Sometimes the comfort of Amber that wafted over him when he worked was not enough.
“I’d like to believe but I’m not sure,” he mumbled. “I know she’s been here with us, in body at least, and I try to maintain hope that her mind will heal. It’s been so long my memory of the time before is dim. I’ve been dedicated to building this city and at times I lose sight of everything else. Sometimes I miss the life we used to have in Garth.”
“It’s long overdue; this visit to the Plains,” Axel replied awkwardly. He turned his head away. His grandson’s words stirred many emotions, especially memories of his daughter, life before Yargis. The pain of her loss was only partly numbed by the constant labor.
“I’m sorry, Grandfather. I should concentrate on our vision. Yargis will ensure that even if Garth is overrun, as we’ve long feared, a remnant of the Amber Foedan will survive. I am being selfish.”
“I know it isn’t fair,” Axel said with a choked voice, “isolated from people your age, everyone looking to you and expecting so much. It grieves me that your mother has not been able to appreciate how you’ve grown; nor has your father seen what you’ve accomplished.”
“That’s okay, Grandfather,” Jerrid lied. “To him I am still an Apprentice. But everyone has given all they have, especially you.”
“Everyone knows you’re the best Shaper we have, Jerrid,” Axel said. “It’s just a technicality that the Council is forty miles away in Garth and has not tested you. Your father would be proud if he could come see what you’ve done. But he’s afraid that the Sortiri will learn our plan. Even with the drawbridge closed, Yargis is not safe from them. Secrecy really is our best ally.”
“It’s still frustrating,” Jerrid answered. He swung his horse to the south and spurred it ahead.
“I’m sorry,” Axel called out. “But don’t take it out on Ike. He’s stubborn enough to toss you into the creek. And Stone Shapers aren’t known to be swimmers. Usually they just sink,” he chuckled.
“Thanks for the warning, Grandfather,” Jerrid tried to not sound sarcastic. “I’ll be especially careful when we reach the lake.”
“And beyond that we’ll take our usual route across the Arm, then through the eastern corner of the Forest. It’s the shortest way to the Plains,” Axel said. “In the eight months since we were last there, that feisty colt you fancy has probably grown into a young stallion.”
“You may be right,” Jerrid laughed. The thought already brought him a feeling of excitement. “It’s hard for me to believe it was three years ago that I first spotted Feor. He was only a little foal then.”
“Sometimes I think about how you two have grown up together,” Axel said.
“You must know that I’ve been dreaming all that time about how it would feel to ride upon a Sharanth stallion,” the young man replied. “They are the greatest animals I’ve ever seen. Feor should finally be big enough now.”
“It’s hard for me to imagine you on a horse like that,” Axel joked. The look on Jerrid’s face showed he did not see the humor. “The Foedan have never been known as equestrians,” Axel continued undeterred, “something about being a muscle-bound rock cutter. But you’ve surprised me plenty of times, Son. I know that’s not about to change.”
They rode in silence for a time, following the course of the deep canyon as it meandered through the weathered hills of the Freestone Plateau. The day was clear. After several miles the canyon widened enough to allow the morning sun to finally reach them. Through the golden haze they continued, two simple men whose resemblance to one another was much like that of sunrise to sunset. And though they carried swords at their sides, something in their manner suggested that they were unaccustomed to using them.
Their horses, slow creatures bred to work, made steady progress. With each mile traversed, the stream they followed grew as side branches joined to swell the flow until its roar muted even the incessant clomp of steel shod hoofs on stone. Near midday they reached an area where the distance that separated the canyon’s walls widened. Ahead, the small river emptied into a lake. Nearly a mile in diameter, walls of white sandstone enclosed the crater-like body of turquoise water.
“No matter how many times I come here, I find myself in awe,” Jerrid said. Both he and his grandfather pulled their mounts to a stop near the lake’s shoreline. As they looked out, a gust of wind roughened the smooth surface of the water and not far offshore, a patch of ripples arose. Glittering for a moment in the sunlight, the small wavelets soon disappeared. “The Basin is so simple, so alive, no name can do it justice,” he whispered.
“I know what you mean,” Axel replied rather seriously. “Its power is magical. No other place in the Foeland is like it.”
“The lost capital, the city of Aradith, it too once held great earth power,” Jerrid interjected. “So the legends say.”
“Yet it was destroyed… and with it, Arthis, our one King. Over two hundred years ago…” Axel paused and thought. “Time does pass, Jerrid. Sometimes we forget a fact so obvious. Even now, the King’s four daughters, the works they performed, so much of our history, all of it is gone from living memory. It’s like it never happened. I guess that’s how things join that world of legend.”
“Every Shaper must one day return their earth power,” Jerrid replied. “Even the mighty ones like Arthis and his daughters. I can’t count the number of times you’ve told me that.”
“That doesn’t mean it is easy; for any of us,” Axel stammered. “I am old, Son. At times I wish in vain for another choice.”
“I feel like these walls are spinning around us,” Jerrid said. Axel’s comment made him uncomfortable and he wanted to change the conversation. “The power of so much solid rock floods my Amber senses every time I come here,” he laughed. “Don’t you feel it? My head is on overload. But somehow I think there is more than Amber at w
ork. I don’t know if it’s this wind or even the lake itself, but something pulls at me.”
“This is the birthplace of the Neverth,” Axel said thoughtfully. “You and I are blind to every earth power but Amber. Yet I’d expect the power of Sapphire to be strong near a river like this. But don’t get confused, Jerrid. It’s our focus to Amber that has made the Foedan from Garth unique. That’s allowed our people to accomplish the tasks we love. Your talk about wind and water makes me uneasy. Pretty soon you’ll tell me you want to speak to the trees, like the Emerald Foedan in Gladeis do.”
“That could never happen,” Jerrid said with a laugh. “You know how I like the Forest. But that’s just because we have to cross through it to get to the Plains where the wild horses run. I could not live within it like the Emerald do. How they interact with wood is beyond me.”
“And rightly so,” Axel answered vindicated. “They feel the same way about our ability with stone. The amber gold that glows in our eyes is strange to them. If you ever meet a Shaper from Gladeis, you will be startled by the green light you see in theirs, the Emerald.”
“What about Shapers with Opal and Sapphire?” Jerrid continued.
“The days when the four branches of the Foedan interacted have passed.” Axel’s reply was bitter. “And the notion that anyone can control more than one earth power, if ever true, it died with King Arthis.”
“Yet Deneb, his youngest son, was a Blender, like his dad,” Jerrid answered wistfully.
“So you’ve been reading, I see.”
“We don’t have many books in Yargis, and even less time to read them. But, yes, I remember a book that said they were Blenders. I must have read it before we left Garth.” Jerrid paused. “I’m surprised I still remember. Come on. Let’s pick up the pace, Grandfather.”
“There’s no reason to rush.” Axel spurred his horse to follow as Jerrid started Ike southward. “I know you’re anxious to get to the Plains. But we can’t reach it until tomorrow, at least not on these beasts. Use the time to relax. You know how key that is to a Shaper’s power.”
They continued. After traveling for about twenty minutes they reached a point where another gorge had been cut through the sandstone. A strong current of water flowed through it.
“Though many tributaries drain into the Basin,” Axel began as they entered the canyon, “the Neverth is its only outlet. From here the river meanders to the southwest for many miles before reaching the sea. If you think about it, the Neverth’s watershed encompasses every square mile of land where the Foedan have long lived. So in a way, the Basin is connected to us all, Jerrid, whether we know it or not.”
Jerrid barely listened. He’d heard this speech every time they’d passed this way. Instead, he thought about how much time the two of them had spent together since arriving in Yargis. Time is the greatest equalizer, his grandfather often said. Live in the present, plan for the future, and remember the past. The completion of the drawbridge marked a transition, Jerrid knew. Already the years spent constructing the hidden city seemed to drift into the haze called memory. Feeling a need of comfort, he looked toward his grandfather and smiled. The notion that this might be their last trip together sat heavily on his mind.
The afternoon was spent riding through the narrow strip of grassland known as the Arm. Though its width averaged just ten miles, the Arm stretched for a length of nearly two hundred miles. It acted as a buffer between the forested lands to the south and the rocky plateau northward where Yargis lay.
Late in the day they made camp and then resumed travel early the next morning. Riding through the wet grass, Jerrid looked ahead expectantly, his vision limited by a heavy morning fog. Finally, the line of the Forest he’d been anticipating loomed from the mist. Moments later he pulled Ike to a halt beneath the first boughs. His heart pounded. The transition from grassland to the Forest always brought an impalpable excitement that he relished.
“I don’t understand why an Amber Shaper like you gets so worked up by a bunch of trees,” Axel said a little irritably, knowing Jerrid’s mood. He’d been trailing his grandson but now coaxed Jay into the lead. “If I hadn’t spent years watching you carve through rock like it was nothing but packed sand, I’d guess you were from Gladeis. The Forest brings me a sense of gloom. The sooner we pass through it to the Sharanth Plain, the sooner I’ll remember that we came on this trip to relax.”
“If Jay can find us a clear path, we’ll reach the Plains before noon,” Jerrid said with a smile. “Then we can start searching for the herd. Seeing Feor will make my heart lite. But I’d forgotten how strong the energy of the Forest can feel. Go on, I’ll catch up.”
As Axel disappeared into the shadowed understory ahead, Jerrid remained. He listened to the sound the dew made as it dripped from the leaves onto the mat of dead leaves covering the Forest floor. He breathed in the morning air and detected in it the smell of distant pine. Once his heart calmed, he resumed. In just a few minutes he heard Axel muttering. The old Shaper was not happy.
“Every way Jay turns is blocked by a new patch of these thorny little trees,” he complained. “I thought there was a path here. We’ve come this way before.”
“Calm down, Grandfather,” Jerrid said as Ike plodded past. “Maybe I can find a way. Yes, last year we found a route that was more open than it is here.”
Back in the lead, the young man concentrated. He noted that Axel had led them into an area where the ground was unusually rocky and only a few large trees grew. In the gaps between them, small groves of thorny brush had sprouted. Jerrid turned Ike sharply to the right toward what looked like a crease between two of the briar patches. Axel followed. Within a few minutes their pace increased. A trail seemed to take shape and they were able to move more freely.
“Jerrid, do you notice anything odd about the path we’re on?” Axel said. He still sounded uneasy. When Jerrid turned his head momentarily, the old Shaper thought that he saw a faint glimmer of green in his grandson’s eyes.
“No. I think we must be closer now to our usual route. The trees are larger here and the going has gotten a bit easier,” Jerrid answered.
“Yes, but doesn’t it seem strange? When I was in the lead, all I found was a bristly mass. Look back at me again,” Axel demanded.
Though a little perplexed, Jerrid turned and glanced back. His horse continued along the open trail.
“There is a sparkle of Emerald burning in your eyes. It’s faint, but there is no mistaking it.” The old Shaper paused; his voice seemed to choke with concern. “It may be a weak enhancement of some sort, Jerrid, working within you so subtly that you’re not even aware. I believe the Forest is revealing a path to you, one that is disguised from me. If you think about it, every time we have passed through here before you have been in the lead, eager to be first.”
Jerrid scoffed at the suggestion before realizing that maybe his grandfather was onto something. He began to wonder what it might mean. “Do you know anything about Gladeis? I’ve never even met someone with Emerald.”
Axel paused to think before answering. “I once was part of a small group of Amber Shapers who went to Gladeis. It was back when the rumors of the Sortiri first began; about thirty years ago I’d say. We worked with a few of their Shapers and strengthened the city’s main gate. For some reason, they seemed to mistrust us, like they thought we were there to steal secrets. We returned to Garth with their thanks but never heard from them again.”
“I don’t understand,” Jerrid replied. “So we started to unite against the Sortiri but then stopped? It makes no sense to me.”
“It turns out, Jerrid, that the four cities are separated by more than just miles. Each branch of our people is used to being independent. We all think differently. Gladeis, Deluge, Rhindus and Garth are isolated now. Everyone is cautious and suspicions have a way of growing deeper over time. I once even heard someone in Garth say that the Emerald must be in league with the Sortiri. Since the creatures seem to harbor within the Forest, th
ey have connected them. If you have even a hint of Emerald power, it would be best to suppress it, or at least hide it.”
Jerrid’s initial excitement shifted to nervousness. “I can’t believe any Foedan could be a part of what the Sortiri have done. Instead of ignoring one another, someone needs to try again to reach out. With my skills in stone work, I could help them build better defenses.”
Axel looked uneasy. “The King’s youngest son helped his sisters as they built their cities. Though each city was centered upon a single earth power, since Deneb was a Blender he managed to add an element of balance. All of the cities are protected, Jerrid. But remember that even Garth failed a direct attack. I am afraid for all the Foedan but I am especially afraid for the Amber. We have been lucky so far. As the Sortiri try to amass power, eventually they will need Amber to augment whatever they are attempting.” He ended in a whisper.
Hearing these words, Jerrid thought about something that had been bothering him. “If the threat is so great, especially to Garth, shouldn’t we go there and tell my father that Yargis is ready? As the Captain, he should want to move as many of our people as possible to safety.”
Axel thought about what his grandson said but did not reply. He knew that Jerroll would not welcome them, obsessed as he was with maintaining the secrecy of Yargis. Visits between the cities had been few because Jerroll wanted to build a separation, create full independence so the fall of one city would not impact the survival of the other.
The old Shaper looked ahead as he remembered the last words that the Captain of the Amber Foedan had said to him.
“Don’t grow soft on me, Axel. You have a job to do.”
At that moment, the area ahead began to brighten. They had reached the eastern edge of the Forest.
----
The Sharanth Plain was home to a special breed of horses. They were the most fleet-footed and spirited animals in all the Foeland. Many attempts to domesticate them had failed. Wild in spirit, intolerant of human incursion and free to roam the grassland where their speed protected them, they had no rivals.
When Jerrid and his grandfather emerged from the Forest, they blinked as their eyes adjusted to the clear morning sky. A light breeze blew from the north. It caused ripples of green to dance in the knee-high grass of late spring.
Several years earlier taking this same route, the two men had chanced upon a large herd of wild horses here. They had repeated the trip many times since then. On the last, Jerrid finally managed to befriend an auburn colt that he had been watching grow from a foal. He named the animal Feor. Feor was bold and inquisitive. The only weakness Jerrid found in Feor was a love for slices of dried apple.
About two miles into the Plains, Jerrid stopped his mount. He looked down at an area on the ground where the grass was trampled. A herd had grazed there recently. Tracks along the bank of a dry creek bed showed the direction that the animals had taken.
“What do you think?” Axel asked. “You have a knack of finding the wild herds.”
“These tracks are fresh. They lead beyond that rise.” Jerrid pointed toward a grass covered slope a few hundred yards away. “Maybe I should leave Ike with you and go on by foot. Give me a head start and then follow, but come slowly.”
Axel nodded. Jerrid slipped from Ike’s back. Before proceeding, he rummaged through one of his saddle bags and retrieved a small sack.
“I was wondering about that,” Axel laughed when he saw what his grandson held.
“You didn’t expect me to come all this way without a supply of dried apples did you? They have been my main weapon. I hope Feor still likes them.”
Without waiting for a reply, Jerrid walked away. He soon lost sight of his grandfather and their two horses. As he continued, he began to whistle and sing to himself. He had learned that the wild horses were less likely to bolt when they weren’t startled. The herd he hoped to find numbered about fifty. Over the course of several years, he had been able to condition them to the point where they allowed him to walk near their grazing area. Only Feor had ever allowed him to come in actual contact.
A few minutes later, his heart pounding as he crested another slight rise, Jerrid spotted them. Gathered within a gentle depression about a hundred yards away, the herd grazed along the bank of the channel he had been tracking. He noticed a boulder about three feet in diameter located near the edge of the group. Still singing softly, he reached the spot and sat down. Most of the horses had noticed him. They paused from their forage to watch but did not run away. Jerrid was sure that this was Feor’s herd. He looked about anxiously trying to find the colt.
The sun had long burned off the morning mist making the day feel warmer than it was. Jerrid was not only getting hot, his stomach rumbled with hunger. Distracted and thinking that Feor must be roaming farther out in the grassland, he barely noticed the commotion of three young horses as they plodded along the creek and approached from the north.
Jerrid’s heart leapt when he finally saw them. He knew immediately that the dark auburn stallion at the center of the group was Feor. The colt had grown since his last visit. Its withers stood two full hands taller than any horse nearby. Jerrid whistled once sharply, and then began to hum. A few of the other horses were startled but they soon relaxed. Feor began to walk toward the unusual sound. As he came closer, Jerrid grabbed the sack of apples and pulled several pieces from it. He extended them to the large animal, laughing as piece after piece were chomped down.
“So you remember me after all!” Tentatively, he stroked the whiskered muzzle and the smooth forehead. Feor seemed to recognize his old friend. Playfully, he swung his head downward and into Jerrid’s chest, knocking the young man back and causing him to fall against the boulder.
“I was starting to get worried,” Jerrid said with a laugh as he regained his footing. “I used to be able to shove you around a little. It looks like the tables have turned.”
As he gave Feor another piece of apple, he thrust his shoulder against the horse, trying to get it off balance. Feor responded playfully, barely noticing Jerrid’s efforts. Jousting back, he once again forced Jerrid against the boulder. For several minutes the one sided pushing match continued. A few times Jerrid reached up with his right arm, briefly hooking Feor’s neck and placing increasing amounts of his weight across the horse’s back. The game ended when the sack was empty. Jerrid’s heavy breathing attested to the effort he’d expended.
“I’ve got to take a break now, Buddy. I need some more apples. I won’t be gone long though.”
Jerrid was surprised when he found his grandfather looking on, partially obscured by the rise he had passed earlier.
“I’m glad he still remembers me. I may even have a chance to tame him. He’s already allowing me to put weight on his back.”
“Take things slowly,” Axel replied. “There is no taming an animal like that. Perhaps he will accept you, but only if you are patient.”
“Yes, you are right about that. I’ll be careful. I don’t want to scare him off after all these years. I need some more apples. I wonder how Feor will react to our horses. Maybe we should bring them ahead. If the herd moves, I can’t follow them on foot.”
The young man swung up onto Ike’s saddle, and then led the way forward. When they approached the group of horses, Axel was startled to see Feor gallop toward them.
“What a fine animal. He runs without effort. See how the muscle moves beneath his coat. If ever there was a model of speed and power, this horse was made from it.”
The young stallion pulled alongside Jerrid, seeming to be a little puzzled. Ike shifted uneasily but remained steady. Jerrid reached over to stroke Feor’s neck in reassurance. The wild horse snorted and swung his head up and down several times.
“I think he’s trying to tell you something,” Axel said, struggling to keep his own horse calm.
“He’s asking for dried apples, and being none too polite about it,” Jerrid answered.
Feor tossed his head aga
in and pranced about impatiently. Jerrid reached into the haversack. He found the last small pouch of fruit, took a piece, and held it out. The colt wasted no time trotting over to gratefully accept the treat. He nudged Jerrid several more times, receiving additional rewards. Whenever he could, Jerrid stroked Feor’s forehead.
“You’ve definitely got him eating out of your hand,” Axel said. “Trouble is, he’s going to eat us dry pretty quickly. Maybe I was wrong about being patient. If you want to take a shot at breaking him, perhaps you should do it soon.”
Jerrid knew that his grandfather was right. Cautiously, he reached into the sack. When Feor pressed up close to Ike’s flank to get another apple he rose up in his saddle and slid onto the wild horse. The colt walked along seeming not to notice.
They had traveled nearly a hundred yards when Feor finally recognized the unfamiliar weight. Reacting in alarm, he surged forward in several leaps. Jerrid crouched low trying to cling on with his thighs and hands. Feeling this extra pressure, Feor darted left and then right. Jerrid lost his balance and fell. He landed in a tuft of grass. The horse galloped away and disappeared behind a nearby rise.
“Good try!” Axel said as Jerrid rose, plucking straw from his hair and jacket. “I thought you had him for a moment.”
“Yeah,” Jerrid laughed back. “I guess he was so intent on the apples he didn’t realize what was going on. Do you think we should chase him?”
“Chase him? A horse like that can’t be chased, at least without wings.”
“I guess you’re right. We can follow his trail, try and see where he went.”
“You know that I’m not a great tracker. You take the lead. Probably he will swing around to meet back up with the herd.”
The grassland rolled out as far as they could see in three directions, barely a tree or bush in sight. To the west, the dark line of the Forest loomed. After descending a shallow depression and climbing the rise on its far side, they had a clear view to the south. Though Feor was nowhere to be seen, Jerrid could make out the shapes of a few horses clustered together about a half mile away. He led Axel in that direction. When they crested the next rise, the horses could still be seen in the distance but they appeared farther away. Apparently they were on the move again.
“The creatures are wild,” Axel said, noticing the disappointment on his grandson’s face. “They are looking for their next water source. They will stop when they find it.”
The Sharanth herds could travel quickly, much more so than the mountain horses Jerrid and Axel rode. The trail was easy to follow. Its direction shifted frequently but seemed to be arcing northward. By late morning Jerrid was growing despondent. With each additional mile traveled, his hopelessness increased.
Near mid-afternoon they noticed a cluster of buildings in the distance. The structures were huddled together at the base of a large grass-covered mound.
“We’ve come a bit farther north than I realized,” Axel said. “I wasn’t thinking about Sligo. It’s the only Comburen city this far north. Their specialty is livestock. They generally don’t take kindly to strangers but they do some trading with Garth. Maybe since we are so close, we should stop and get some extra food. I think a good meal would lift our spirits a bit.”
“Why should they dislike us?” Jerrid said, nodding his agreement before looking wistfully to the northeast where the herd seemed to have gone.
“I don’t know. I’ve always been careful not to display my Amber around them, since they don’t have powers like we do. Even if they don’t like Foedan they always seem to have enough tolerance to do business. They have a special fondness for the steel tools made in Garth. I’ve been to Sligo on a few occasions. Never did the people there seem happy to see me come, or sad to see me go.”
They reached the town a short time later. Axel knew right where he wanted to go. He stopped his horse in front of one of the largest buildings. After sliding off Jay, he looped the reins around a wooden rail. A few other horses were already hitched, but there was still plenty of room for more.
Gauging from the look of the place, Jerrid guessed that it was the central store. He quickly tied Ike and followed as Axel disappeared through the front door. Once inside, he was surprised to see that much of the building was open and full of shelves. They were covered with goods of every description. On the far side of the room, he noticed a cluster of simple wooden tables. His grandfather sat at the nearest one and was talking to a large woman. She wore a white apron. Curly brown hair surrounded her plump face. They chatted like old friends. The other tables were also occupied. Two men sat at one and three at the other. Their ages varied though they all shared the weather-beaten appearance of hard travel. They looked suspiciously at Axel. When Jerrid approached, the short sword he wore on his left hip, and shaping tools he had strapped to the other, caught their eye.
“There are no Sharanth horses around here, I’m afraid,” the woman was saying as Jerrid took a seat. “We love to see them though. My husband Nathan, he’d be out after them for certain if there were any nearby. Always trying to corral them, he is. Come close a few times. Him and these boys here,” she nodded toward the other tables. “They’re always hatching ideas to fence another area and funnel those horses in. Aren’t you boys?”
“You stop blabbing to these strangers, Sally,” one answered. “What we do is no concern to them.”
“Aw, you’re just sore that those horses have jumped every fence you ever set,” Sally laughed then turned again to Axel. “So what do you need? Are you here to talk, drink, eat or what? Maybe a little trade for something?”
“Just looking for a meal,” Axel answered. “Whatever main course you’re serving today will be fine.”
“That’ll be stewed chicken,” she said, seeming disappointed. “Same for both of you?”
“Yes, thank you, Ma’am,” Jerrid answered.
“Hear that, boys” she laughed as she walked toward the kitchen “Today, I’m a Ma’am. I should find Nathan. Get him out here and see if they can teach him some manners.”
A few minutes later, the kitchen door swung open and a large man walked out. He approached the table and gestured toward Axel, seeking permission to join him and Jerrid.
“I’m Nathan,” he said flatly, then took an empty seat. “Sally says you’re looking for wild horses. Try away down south. There’s a big herd there, comes this way now and then. A real smart group, that is. We won’t get them. But there’s another herd that comes from the west. They’ve got some mountain stock blended with them. We caught a few of them over the years. If you’re interested in horses like that, we could talk about a trade. A few nice swords might do, provided the steel is from Garth.”
“We’re not looking for a trade,” Axel answered. “The lad just likes horses and wanted see if we could spot a few wild ones, for the sport is all.”
“Well, go ahead south then and take a look,” Nathan said. “You are Foedan, from Garth?”
“Just out with my grandson, you know. Those rock walls get kind of confining.”
“I know those walls,” Nathan said. “Traded there for some steel a time or two, hand tools, horse bits, a plow, even a sword. Good steel you have, but I don’t like walls.” He seemed to be studying them, not trusting that they weren’t in Sligo for some other purpose.
“Yes,” Axel answered uncomfortably. “I don’t know what you’ve traded, but I know the cattle from Sligo can’t be matched.”
“Cattle, yes. Is that why you’re really here?” Nathan’s face brightened and he smiled broadly. “We can trade cattle. We take many of them to Arnot, big city down south. Been there? We come back from there with other goods too. Look around the store. We can accommodate most anything for steel from Garth.”
Suddenly the kitchen door swung open and Sally strode out with a heavy iron pot. She dropped a towel on the table then set the pot down. “Nathan, you leave these Foedan alone. Let them eat their dinner.”
Nathan did not flinch. Undeterre
d, she repeated the order before turning back toward the kitchen. Her husband stayed where he was. The other men continued eating. Jerrid reached toward the pot and served his grandfather and himself. They wondered what it was that Nathan wanted of them. The large man sat there watching. Occasionally he pulled at his thin beard. When they finished, he stood up.
“So what about this trade?” he asked persistently. “You must have something in exchange for the meal. Perhaps you have a knife you would like to part with?”
“We have nothing to trade,” Axel replied, “just silver coin for payment.”
“We never turn away coin, that’s for certain. Given the choice, I prefer a good trade though. I’d like to talk more of these cattle. We can show you a herd as you leave. You’ll be heading north toward Garth I presume. A few new bulls would no doubt help your own herds prosper. I think we have just the animals. Maybe six or eight blades like the one that the lad carries, in exchange for a few choice animals?”
“We did not come here to trade for cattle,” Axel repeated more firmly. “I should think that two silver stags would cover our meal including a little extra for our hostess? Please tell her the food was excellent.”
Axel rose from the table. Jerrid followed his grandfather outside. They wasted no time in mounting up and had just started along the road when Nathan and another man exited the store.
“If you don’t mind,” Nathan said, unhitching one of the other horses, “we’d like to show you our cattle. You’ll be passing right by them. Maybe you’ll have a change in heart.”
“Show us your animals and we’ll take a report back to Garth for you,” Axel said in annoyance, “along with your price.”
“No more than that can we ask,” Nathan answered with a wry smile.
Jerrid took the lead and set off westward urging Ike to a trot. The other men followed. The Sligo horses were larger and of a quicker gait. There would be no outrunning them. In a few minutes the group rounded the base of a hill that had been blocking their view to the west. Jerrid looked back a moment, wondering if anyone had followed. Sligo was now obscured from view. With a wave to his grandfather, he turned Ike directly up the hill.
“I’m going to take a look around,” he called. “From this hilltop, I should be able to see the whole area. Maybe even the herd Mr. Nathan was talking about.”
The other riders continued traveling along the road. When Jerrid reached the crest of the hill, he looked back toward Sligo. The road was empty. Relaxing a bit, he turned westward. Less than a mile away he spotted a cluster of fenced pens near the road. A group of cattle grazed in one of them. Farther beyond, he saw a small cloud of dust seemingly raised by a separate herd. Satisfied, he hustled down the hill and rejoined their party, taking up the rear.
Nathan looked back. He seemed a bit nervous to have Jerrid out of his direct view.
“Did you see our cattle? They should be just on the other side of this little knoll.”
There was no need for Jerrid to answer. Axel, a few hundred feet ahead, was already looking at the animals. When Nathan and his companion caught up, they stopped next to the old Shaper. Anxious to keep moving, Jerrid continued. He was well past the end of the pasture when he noticed a commotion ahead. He realized that it was the second group of animals that he had seen from the hilltop. Surprised that there were no fences here, he was even more shocked when he finally understood what was happening. Heading straight toward him was a herd of Sharanth horses. They ran at a full gallop. In just a few moments they were rushing past. They turned to the north to avoid the fences.
One horse separated from the herd. It slowed and then stopped about fifty feet away from Jerrid. It was Feor. Axel and the men from Sligo looked on from a few hundred feet away. Not knowing what to do, Jerrid turned Ike toward the other men. Feor followed. He quickly caught up to Jerrid and nudged him in the back as if asking for more treats. When the young man did not respond, Feor cut Ike off, blocking his way.
Jerrid turned Ike again. The move put Feor immediately to Ike’s flank. Feor pranced slightly but held his ground. Hesitantly, Jerrid looked toward his grandfather. The smile that beamed back at him and the expression of astonishment on Nathan’s face, gave him courage. In one smooth motion he slid onto Feor’s back. He hung on easily as Feor began to trot northward, knowing that he could be thrown at any moment. Gradually the young horse increased its speed, eventually reaching a full gallop.
The next hour was a blur to Jerrid. Gradually, he grew accustomed to the power and speed of the horse beneath him. He did not try to control the animal. Instead, he relaxed and focused his energy to match that of the stallion. He felt a bond of acceptance growing between them. He laughed aloud as he tried to look back and realized that his grandfather and the other men were already lost from view.
When Axel saw what was taking place, he steered his mount up the slope of the nearest hill. The other riders followed. Together, they craned their sight to catch an occasional glimpse of the young man and the stallion bounding along. The horse was running in a wide arc, circling them.
“I can’t believe my eyes,” Nathan said absently. “A Sharanth stallion, one of the finest I’ve ever seen. All my life I’ve known horses, watched the Sharanth from afar, dreaming what it would be like to feel their power. Fortunately, I have a witness with me. No one in Sligo will believe this.”
The men watched in silence as Feor made one last turn and headed almost directly toward them. The horse was within about a quarter mile of them when it slowed to a walk. Jerrid, now tired and covered with sweat, gently stroked Feor’s neck. While still a considerable distance from Axel and the other men, Jerrid slipped from Feor’s back and landed on the ground. The large animal then turned and trotted away.
“That was some ride, Boy!” Nathan yelled out. “Why didn’t you try and hold on to that stallion or bring him to us? Maybe we could have got a rope around him.”
Jerrid looked at Nathan, then his grandfather. “It seemed better to me that he should go his own way. To rope a horse like that, something has to break. It could be the horse, the rope or the man holding the rope. I shouldn’t want to take the chance that it might be the horse.”
“Yeah, but you let him go,” Nathan said with disappointment. “Might be you’ll never get another chance.”
“Might be. Even so, it was worth it, just for that one ride.”
“I can’t argue with that,” Nathan laughed. “It gives me hope that I didn’t have before.”
“Hope for what?” Axel asked.
“Hope that if a rock beater like your grandson here can ride a Sharanth stallion, then a guy like me who has spent his whole life trying, might someday succeed.”
Axel smiled. Jerrid walked over and reached out, taking Ike’s reins from his grandfather and climbing onto the saddle. There was no smile on his face. The thought of Nathan trying to track Feor or his herd made him feel sick to his stomach. He regretted having made such a foolish display in front of these Comburen.
“Shouldn’t we get moving again, Grandfather?” he said gruffly. He spun Ike to the west and urged him to a canter.
“Yes, we’ve lost some time. Mr. Nathan, we’ll bring word that you have some fine stock ready for trade.” Axel did not wait for Nathan to reply but turned away and followed Jerrid.
“That’ll be fine,” Nathan yelled. “Now don’t forget. In the meantime, we’ll be keeping watch of those Sharanth for you.”
Jerrid grimaced but ignored the jab. He and his grandfather held pace until they lost sight of the men to their rear. When they slowed, Axel drew alongside.
“I hate to leave Feor anywhere near those men,” Jerrid said bitterly.
“You know they have no chance of catching him or any other horse in that herd. He admitted that to us at lunch. No doubt though, if you gave him the chance, he’d gladly toss a rope around Feor’s neck and hold on until one of them breaks.”
“No doubt,” Jerrid agreed. “And no doubt Nathan would be sorry h
e made the try. It still makes me uneasy.”
“Me, too, but now that we’re alone, tell me about your ride.”
“It was incredible,” Jerrid replied. His voice was full of excitement. “The energy I felt is hard to describe. I guess it’s what you’d think uncorrupted power would feel like. I’ve connected with rock before when shaping and felt that way. I think Feor felt it too. I bet he’ll be back for more than just apples. I think he drew from me as much as I did from him.”
Axel listened silently. He could see the beam in his grandson’s face, the glow in his eye, realizing that Jerrid had connected in a way that no Amber Foedan had ever experienced. To compare the feel of riding a horse to that of shaping stone, was a shocking thought.
“I’ve been thinking about Nathan. He’s so pushy, I’m afraid he might go to Garth on his own, try to strike a trade. I’m afraid we have no choice but to go there, just in case.”
“I used to think of Garth as my home,” Jerrid replied. “I’m not sure I have one anymore. It is time that my father learned about our new city, whether he wants to or not.”
Axel could hear the determination in Jerrid’s voice. Still, he worried about how Jerroll would react to them. He noticed that Jerrid was again studying the grasslands around them, looking for signs of Feor.
“I know that being isolated in Yargis is difficult, especially for you, Jerrid. Most of the other Shapers have their families with them, and those that don’t have buried themselves in our work. The Amber has sustained me more than anything, that, and the satisfaction I get from watching you.”
Jerrid felt sad. He realized that his grandfather was as lonely as he was. The brief connection he had made with Feor was pulling at him, making him feel like he was hiding something. “Yargis is finished, Grandfather. The work, I mean. Any decent Shaper can do what’s left.” He paused and thought about the pain and loss of his mother. His most recent memory of Garth was the night she was taken by the Sortiri, the night he so often relived in his dreams. With a sigh he resumed. “Our new city is ready for more people. My father needs to know, so he can send them before it is too late. But to be honest with you, knowing that Feor is so close, I think I am heading in the wrong direction.”
“I understand.” Axel said. “Too often people see something they want and abandon their commitments, unwilling to complete the task before them. I respect you for staying on track, in spite of the sacrifice.”
As they continued, Jerrid thought less about the possibility of pursuit and more about what lay ahead. Though his senses were sharp, he did not notice the subtle change in the terrain as the open expanse of the Sharanth slowly shifted to a different sort of grassland. Most people called it “the Arm.” In spite of being much more dry and rocky, the Arm was usually considered as a continuation of the Sharanth. Eight miles across at its widest point, this long strip of prairie separated the Forest to the south from the Freestone Plateau to the north. More importantly, it allowed the trade road that they now followed to extend westward beyond Garth, the Neverth River, and reach even to the Crosscut Mountains.
Though the golden light of sunset had faded, they still rode. In the dim light that remained, patches of grass looked like pits that someone had dug within the gray soil. At a point on the trail where an area of exposed sandstone formed a small ridge with a clear view to their rear, they finally stopped to make camp.
“No fire tonight,” Axel said as he slipped from Ike’s back, “just in case we’ve been followed.”
After turning the horses loose, the two men ate. They then unrolled their blankets over a smooth area of the sandstone and settled in for the night.
“When you get comfortable,” Axel said, “lay back and listen. Use the darkness to focus your Foedan senses and find the inner peace needed to capture the power of Amber. A Shaper must be able to remove himself from whatever is happening around him. He must become a part of the world. It is an art, Jerrid. Even an old man like me can never take it for granted.”
Jerrid listened. Though he had heard this counsel on countless occasions, he accepted it, and visualized the calm of night spreading over him. With hands pressed against the flat rock upon which he lay, he expanded his perceptions beyond the campsite. His senses flooded through the stone until far away in the distance, he felt the shuffle of hooves. Horses, he thought, waiting out the night. When he broke his connection, he looked toward his grandfather and smiled.
“Your Amber is strong tonight,” Axel said. “I can tell by how brightly your eyes glow. This would be a good chance for you to practice your masking skills. It is something a good Shaper should master. The better we hide the nature of our earth power, the less people can try to use it against us.”
Jerrid chuckled. “You don’t think people will know me as a rock cutter?”
“Well,” Axel laughed, “in spite of those big shoulders, I think you can throw them off. Now close your eyes a moment, visualize the image of a bright yellow sun, and then look at me.”
Jerrid did as instructed. He held a vision of bright sunlight in his mind as he opened his eyes. Tears formed in them as he stared at Axel.
“Excellent! It was at least thirty seconds before the Amber trickled back. I’m going to sleep now. Before you doze off, you should reconnect and practice a few more times. You never know when you will need to do it for real.”
Chapter 4: Desperation
The Shrine of Arthis Book One: The Power of Denial Page 3