by Jekka Jones
The group stopped right where Juan’s tent had been pitched. “Here,” said the unknown Caborcan. All the samurai except for Darrin spread out and began to search, lifting their lanterns to peer into the bushes. One came close to the large stump Landon had crouched behind, but he turned before his light exposed anything. With horror, Landon watched one samurai approach the boulder. He examined the tiny gap and pushed against the rock. He gave a pleased cry when it moved and sidled inside.
“Angels, help us!” Landon whispered. His hands shook. He scanned the darkening woods for Myra but couldn’t see her.
“There are supplies in here,” called the samurai. It was Sairen. “Bags made of small animal skins sewn together and a cloak.” He stepped out of the cave carrying the satchels and cloak. He placed them on the ground and stepped back, grinning from ear to ear.
Juan stared at the satchels, an expression of surprise on his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but the unnamed Caborcan rounded on him. The Caborcan’s face twisted with fury. “It is true. You have been withholding information in your reports.”
Juan drew himself tall, emanating confidence. “I have done no such thing, Father.” Landon started at this. “I have been thorough in my reports since we entered this country. Where is the proof that I have been doing otherwise?”
Juan’s father gestured to the imprint in the ground where Juan’s tent used to be. “Your tent was right here—placed so that, should this boulder be moved, it would be blocked from sight, making it easier for a Nircanian to come and go.”
“How does pitching my tent in front of some cave full of supplies prove that?” Juan cried, gesturing at the boulder. “I told you, I never knew that was there. These Nircanians have hideouts all over the place!”
Juan’s father, Raphael, ignored this. “Mateo said you went straight to this spot and pitched your tent two days ago. Why would you pick this spot, Juan?” His tone was low and dangerous. Raphael suspected his son wasn’t being truthful, but at the same time was hoping it was all a mistake. Landon watched the man’s features, dread growing in his heart.
“Because I was ordered to,” Juan countered. “The Tsuregans and Lythrans showed up and General Costanza told my regiment to relocate here. Everyone else was scrambling to find a good spot and this was the first one I saw.” Anger crept into Juan’s stature, giving him the edge he needed for a truthful story. “What did you expect me to do, appeal to pitch my tent with the other dons? The king made it very clear that I was not welcome among my kin.”
In answer, Juan’s father drew out a piece of parchment. He unfolded it and held it up, the writing facing Juan. From Landon’s position, he couldn’t see what was written on it, but Juan’s posture tightened. His mouth pressed into a firm line. “What is that?” he asked.
“You know very well what this is, Juan,” his father replied, his voice trembling with anger. “It is a map of several hideouts in this area. We,” he gestured to the samurai and Ramirez, “investigated every single mark and found a cavern or hovel, complete with firepits and bedding.” Juan’s father crumpled the paper in his hand. “You knew this hideout was here.”
Landon felt like the Seal was healing him; every bone and muscle in his body became cold. Almighty help him, he prayed. My people gave him that map as a gesture of trust, not a plea for help. Please, get him out of this!
Juan gaped. “I have never seen that map in my life! Where did you find it?”
“I found it among your personal belongings, Juan,” his father snapped. Juan spluttered at this. “Yes, I went through your tent when you were on patrol yesterday afternoon. I almost didn’t find it except I wanted to be absolutely sure you were innocent.” His face twisted in disgust. “I found it in your bedding.”
“Father, I have never seen that before. Someone must have put it there.” Juan looked accusingly at the samurai. They, however, smiled with amusement.
“Do not accuse our allies of framing you,” Juan’s father said dangerously, and he took a step towards his son. For a moment, Landon thought he would strike Juan. “Master Foran, tell my son what you told me.”
Darrin bowed and, in a level voice, said, “The Nircanians are like ghosts in their forests. They can erase their tracks and plant false ones with ease. They can pass within inches of a man without him knowing. However,” Darrin strolled to the boulder and put a hand on it, “if someone knew their hideouts, and instead turned a blind eye that would give the Nircanians an advantage. They could hunt and forage under our noses freely.”
“That person could also spy on us,” Raphael added. “He could write a small note and place it directly in the hideout for the next Nircanian to find. Information on our strategies and supply lines.”
“You believe I am a spy?” Juan said, appalled. “For the Nircanians?”
No one spoke, and yet their answer hung in the air as though every man had shouted it. Juan looked from face to face, his eyes widening in disbelief. “I am Caborcan!” he cried. “I am a son of Madonni!”
“You also have a deep-seated friendship with the most wanted man on the continent,” Ramirez replied. “After being incarcerated and tortured together in Menrye, I suspect that you would protect Landon and anyone helping him. In other circumstances, I would commend you for your loyalty, but in our present light it is treason. Deny it all you want, Juan Valdez, but we know the truth: You have been aiding the enemy.”
Raphael stared at his son for a long time. “I want to believe you, my son, but General Constanza is sure that you are helping the Nircanians. Mateo and several others testified of seeing small parties of men, women, and children moving in the trees, but when they go to investigate you slow them down, or you claim to hear movement in the opposite direction. You have been allowing the enemy to pass through our army freely, gathering any information they want.”
“Father, I am loyal to Cabor—”
“This morning,” Raphael continued, speaking over his son, “King Guiterrez requested my presence at a council with the other kings and their advisors. We discussed many things, but the foremost was General Costanza’s surety that you were helping the Nircanians. I defended you, Juan. I accused Costanza of fabricating false stories to punish you. We would have been there all day if His Majesty had not intervened. He said—” Raphael’s voice shook, and he cleared his throat before continuing, “that if we should find proof of Nircanians having been near your tent . . . well . . . it was evidence enough.”
Juan gaped, and Landon could barely breathe. He couldn’t believe his ears. Landon cast his surroundings for some sort of object he could use to cause a distraction, keeping an ear on the conversation. Angels, there was nothing but twigs and pebbles! He started digging through the ground, hoping to find larger stones.
“I first searched your tent and found the map. From there, I investigated the markings on the map.” His eyes, the same shade of gray as Juan’s, bored into his son’s. “We found caves and hovels with their entrances cleverly hidden. Each had supplies to help the next passing Nircanian on his way. This,” he gestured again to the boulder, “was the last marked spot on the map to check.”
“Father, you must believe me. I would never betray my country!” Juan whispered.
Raphael stepped towards him until they were nose to nose. “Tell me,” he begged, “look me in the eye and tell me that you have not been helping the Nircanians. Swear to me,” he said louder as Juan opened his mouth to speak, “by the Goddess Maddoni that you are telling the truth.”
The silence was profound, forcing Landon to freeze or risk being discovered. Juan and his father stared at each other, eye to eye.
At last, Juan said, “The Nircanians are not our enemy.”
Juan’s father swore and turned away from him. He stormed a couple paces away and then whirled back to face Juan. “Why? How could you do this? Your countrymen are dying, Juan, and you are helping those responsible get away with it!”
“The Borikans and their allies are the ones slayi
ng Caborcans, not them!” Juan said. His demeanor was strong and confident, although Landon could tell by his face that he was terrified of what was to come. “The Nircanians have only killed a handful of Dagnorian soldiers and the vizier, but that is it. They are trying to stay out of the way while the rest of us battle over a magical trinket.”
“This would have never happened if that boy had remained in Tsuregi!” Raphael shouted. “Do you not see, Juan? Finding the Dayns, finding the Wizard’s Seal, and putting them in a safe place is the only answer! No one knows what this Seal is capable of, let alone what will happen if it falls into the hands of the Drakshus. The sooner we find Landon the better!”
“That will make everything worse!” said Juan, his voice rising. “Think, Father! There was peace until Diego and Sierra were kidnapped nineteen years ago, and as soon as it was known they had the Wizard’s Seal, all hell breaks loose. Look at us!” Juan threw his arms out. “We’re scrambling to capture the Nircanians because we hope to get the Dayns. And then what? When we have the Wizard’s Seal, what are we going to do with it?”
“Restore peace,” said Ramirez.
Juan sneered. “That means nothing but more war! You want to obliterate the Menrians, and put the Nircanians in their place.”
“We will only do what is necessary, Valdez,” said Ramirez, stepping forward. Although his voice sounded bored beyond all reason, his eyes were hard and intense. “It is the Menrians who will destroy us if they get the Seal first. They have two Seers and the friendship of the Dragon King.”
“And how do you know there are no Seers on our side? None hiding under your nose?” Juan demanded.
Darrin stiffened, his eyes narrowing. The other samurai glanced at one another and eyed Juan, suspicious. Landon’s prayers went into panic mode. He decided the pebbles and twigs were better than nothing and began to gather them as quietly as he could.
Ramirez’s lips twisted into a sneer. “If there were other Seers, then they would have come forward as decreed by the treaty. Alas, that did not happen thanks to your treachery.”
“That treaty was waiting to be broken, sir, and you know it.”
Ramirez raised an eyebrow, and he began to speak, but Raphael spoke first. “Enough!” his voice boomed through the forest. “Juan Valdez, you have been found at the scene of a Nircanian hideout, and have confessed to aiding and abetting the enemy.”
Juan’s eyes flashed onto his father, his expression fierce but his face pale. “Father, I only ignored their passing. I never gave them information!” He retaliated. “I am not spying for them!”
“Juan Valdez,” his father continued, speaking over his son, “I charge you with treason against the crown. By the authority granted to me by Miguel Guiterrez, King and Protector of Caborca, Maddoni’s chosen realm, I, Raphael Valdez, Duke of Santillan, hereby strip you of all citizenship.”
Juan jerked as if he had been slapped. He took a step from his father, mouth gaping.
“Your sword shall be melted,” Raphael continued, firm and ruthless, “and your name will be blotted from the Holy Congregation of Maddoni.” He paused to take a deep, shuddering breath. “You are no longer a Son of Caborca.”
His words hung in the air.
“Father, wait!” Juan darted forward, hand outstretched, but Raphael drew Juan’s sword and leveled it at him. Juan stopped short, eyes wide.
“Do not make this worse than it already is, boy,” Juan’s father said through his teeth. “By the Goddess, you should be executed but the king has allowed mercy rather than justice for this case.”
“You just don’t want to kill your only child!” Juan shouted.
“Master Foran,” said Raphael as if his son hadn’t spoken. “I place this traitor in your hands. Do with him as you please.”
Darrin nodded. Immediately two samurai grabbed each of Juan’s arms and pulled him to the side.
“I did not betray Caborca, and you know it!” Juan screamed. “Take it back, Father. Take it back!”
“Silence!” Raphael yelled. A tear trickled down his cheek, and he brushed it away. “You are no longer my son. You are a traitor and a disgrace to Caborcan blood!” He shoved Juan’s sword back in its scabbard and stormed from the area.
“Father, stop!” Juan screamed after him.
Sairen strode forward and backhanded Juan. “Hold your tongue, boy, or I will remove it.”
Juan glared at the samurai but said nothing. He pressed his lips together, blinking back the tears waiting to be shed.
Ramirez began to follow Juan’s father but paused. “Remember,” he said to Darrin, “any victory Tsuregi obtains through this,” he nodded to Juan, “will be shared with Caborca.”
“Of course,” said Darrin. Ramirez left.
Landon crouched, shocked at what just happened. He may not understand the politics surrounding nobles, but there was no mistaking a man being banished. It alarmed him that a father would disown and exile his own son, no matter what the circumstances. And now Juan was at Darrin’s mercy.
Landon redoubled his efforts to collect pebbles of numerous sizes and shapes, an idea forming. It was a desperate and foolish plan, and he hoped it could save Juan’s life. He scanned the area, noting where the samurai stood compared to the surrounding trees.
“Let go of me!” Juan shouted, ripping his arms from the samurai.
The men glanced at Darrin, who nodded, and they let him go, shoving him towards the Seer. The others spread out in a circle, placing Juan and Darrin in the center. Juan swayed and sank to his knees. He buried his face in his hands.
“You brought this on yourself, Juan,” said Darrin quietly. “Did you really think you could play both sides? Help your people and the Nircanians at the same time? I thought you were wiser than that.”
“Uruse!” Juan shouted, glaring up at Darrin. The tears had broken loose and streamed down his cheeks. “You put them up to it. I know you did. The Nircanians are not our true enemies and you know it!”
Darrin waved his hand, unconcerned. “They are harboring fugitives and a deadly weapon. That is reason enough for me.” The Samurai Master circled Juan, studying the Caborcan. “What I want to know, Valdez, is why you would think there was a Seer on our side? Have you reason to suspect someone?”
His tone was casual, almost friendly. Juan opened his mouth to speak but hesitated. Landon’s heart raced. If Juan confessed to knowing Darrin’s abilities, he was a dead man. He may be valuable as bait for drawing Landon out, but keeping Darrin’s lineage secret was top priority. In that moment, Landon realized just how dangerous Darrin Foran was—how dangerous these samurai were. Darrin’s Seership was their lucky talisman, and they would murder anyone to keep it secret.
Darrin drew his sword and stepped towards Juan. “Answer my question, traitor. Are you accusing my allies of hiding a Seer among them?”
“No,” Juan replied, but it was weak. The other samurai drew their swords, long and slow like a snake’s hiss.
“What was that again?” Darrin whispered. The Seer raised his blade and laid it on Juan’s shoulder, the sharpened edge touching his neck. Juan’s eyes flicked from the sword to Darrin and back again.
“I . . . nothing. . . .”
Darrin’s dark eyes gazed at Juan pitilessly, ready to kill. Praying for Jeshua and all the angels’ protection, Landon stood and lobbed a small rock with all his might. It soared over Juan’s head and struck Darrin on the temple. Darrin swore, his sword sweeping away from Juan’s neck. The Seer rubbed his head and looked around. Landon ducked out of sight and scurried to a different tree.
“What—” Darrin started, but a volley of debris rained upon the unprotected heads. Pebbles, small rocks, branches, twigs, anything that Landon could pick up and throw barraged the nobles. He put his anger into each pitch, as if avenging Juan. He darted around the area until the debris came from all directions. The samurai shouted, raising their swords and stumbling into each other.
“Juan, run!” Landon screamed. He threw a h
alf-decayed branch at Darrin’s head. “Just go! Run!”
For a moment, Juan was frozen in place, and then he jumped to his feet. He shoved a samurai aside and pelted into the woods. Landon threw two more pebbles and took off after him, leaping over a fallen log. Darrin’s enraged voice shouted through the woods.
“Kareat oitsukarase! Isolyth!”
Landon dodged around the trees, tearing after his friend. He managed to catch up with Juan. “Howsy!” he gasped. “Don’t ya hate it when squirrels throw rocks?”
“I can’t believe you found me,” Juan gasped in return. “Where to?”
Rather than answer, Landon took the lead, bolting for a thicket of bushes he knew they could hide in. He thought of Myra and prayed for her safety, hoping that they could find each other again. He heard the samurai crashing through the brush, shouting for reinforcements. Desperate, Landon whistled for Oni.
“That way! He’s calling his horse!”
A strange whooshing sound came towards him. Landon’s panicked mind immediately thought of Sri’Lanca. He leapt to the side and a harsh breeze ripped past his hip. Juan let out a startled cry and dropped out of sight.
Landon skittered to a stop and whirled towards Juan. Even in the dim light from the samurai’s lanterns, Landon saw several strips of cords attached to three heavy cloth balls. The whole mess was wrapped around Juan’s calves and knees. Juan was already scrabbling at them, swearing in Sikhan and Tarsli.
“Angels, damn you!” Landon threw himself beside Juan, trying to loosen the ropes around his calves.
“Karer dokse inanrai?” shouted Sairen.
“Asokoranse ochidatha,” replied another, and the samurais’ shouts angled towards Landon.
“Knife?” Landon asked, desperate.
“They took all my weapons,” Juan cried. His fingers slipped around the ropes binding his knees. “Go, Lan! It’s you they want.”
“I’m not leaving you with a bunch of murderous samurai and a Seer, Juan!” Landon hissed in return. His hand went to the pouch at his waist.