Orb and arrow, p.12
Orb and Arrow, page 12
“I can’t have you forget your lessons now, can I?” he said, laughing as she picked herself up and murmured the healing spells she had learned to ease her pains.
“That would have bruised,” she said accusingly as she climbed onto the seat next to him, fully aware that she smelled rank. He sniffed and turned away.
“What you have done, you undo,” she said neatly. Her clothes were suddenly clean, but she refused to speak to him again until they saw the house of the Sisterhood down a treed lane. They turned left into the lane, enjoying the cool under the trees. She looked at it and sighed, full of memories.
A Sister came out onto the porch of the clean white structure to meet them. Windows lined the walls, some open to admit the morning air.
Brillar stepped down from the cart and made the traditional greeting of the Sisterhood. Surprised, the Sister returned it.
“I am Brillar,” she announced. “Daughter of Darwallen of the Life Sisterhood in Laurenfell.”
“Good Sister,” she was answered, “come in, visit and rest with us a while.”
“I apologize, but we’re in a hurry. I only came to ask that you send word to my parents that I am well and in good company. Oh, and to make a gift to your house of this cart and Hob. He’s been a fine animal for us, and I know you’ll treat him well.”
Garnelden was already saddling the Jez and Bright and transferring their purchases to saddle packs.
“I see,” said the Sister, glancing at Elden’s foldbox, “that my report to your parents will be truthful.” The heads of curious children had appeared in the Sister’s classroom. Without looking, she said, “Back to your studies,” and they disappeared amid giggles. She smiled warmly.
“My lady Brillar?” Elden had the horses ready.
“May your travels be safe,” said the Sister, waving her out.
“May your students be less trouble than I was at that age,” Brillar answered with a laugh.
They put their horses into the traveler’s pace and made time to the road and onward, following the Carlin River that flowed through West and East Riversgate. Now, in full summer, the heat of the sun was brutal on their mounts even with their easy gait. They rode in the early morning only and rested in whatever shade they could find as the sun rose higher.
‘Rested’ was a relative word. The horses rested, certainly, and the first day, they were well-watered at a pool the river had formed on its way to the lake, but Elden continued Brillar’s lessons.
“Swords and arrows are easy,” he explained. “Armor is the best defense against them, although archers are usually in the back ranks.”
“I’ve heard we sometimes hide behind shield barriers?”
“A good thing too, as arrows fly both ways. Still, there are other ways to die in a battle or just a nasty fight. How is your defense against magic?” Without waiting for a reply, he sent a weak bolt of lightning against her, but she cast it aside.
“You’re becoming predictable, Elden,” she remarked.
A frost bolt, much stronger than the lightning, left her chilled to the bone. A word from between chattering teeth, and she was warm again. “I think, Master, that I could use a lesson or two.”
He responded with a smile. “Perhaps after lunch.”
She had hunted early in the day and close to camp, bringing down linic hens that were already roasting at the fire but not quite ready to eat.
“A swim then?” She stood and stripped down to her scants, heading to the water. “Coming?”
Reluctantly, he stood and followed, pausing to take off his boots. Brillar was already in the water. The river had carved a deep pool beneath some shade trees, but the water was warm enough. Elden rolled up his pants and waded.
“What’s this? The water is fine for swimming, Elden,” she said, splashing him. She had, for the most part, given up calling him ‘uncle.’”
“There is something, perhaps, I should explain.” He stopped.
“You can’t swim?” she asked, guessing his answer. She was treading water in the middle of the pool.
“Indeed, I lack the skill.” Elden looked somewhat sheepish.
“Not from fear of the water?” Brillar had learned to swim as a small child and loved the water.
“Only from lack of teaching and experience, I assure you,” he responded, miffed.
“Then remove your finery,” she replied, going to stand in shallow water, “and I’ll be the teacher for a while.”
Elden proved an apt pupil. A bit of instruction in an easy stroke, a bit of sputtering, and he could move clumsily through the water. The aroma of fully cooked hen pulled them from the pool, and he cast to dry their clothing so they could re-dress.
As they ate, she asked formally, “Master, you seemed in a rush to get to Lands-end; now we travel more slowly.”
“We have hill country to cross, which can be dangerous. I want the horses rested.”
She accepted the answer but felt something else behind the words. Sometimes she saw his lips move soundlessly and wondered what words there would be if they were spoken aloud. Elden’s silent mutterings were his review of spell, dispel and counter-spell, spells of War and Creature magic, spells he believed he would need in Lands-end.
*** 9 ***
Another day of easy travel and they entered hill country, sometimes needing to lead the horses through narrow paths. Still, it was beautiful. Her travels had not taken her through the hills, and her eyes were constantly finding something new, which she would immediately point out. The first day was full of such sights.
“Elden, look at that waterfall! The height of it and how narrow it is.” The fall was a hundred feet in height or more.
“Arrow Falls is its name. We’re headed to Old Man Rock. No, don’t ask me about the name; you’ll know soon enough.”
“How lovely the flowers are here, and the scent! What are they called?” Elden, who had traveled the hill country, had a hard time keeping up with her questions.
The wind in the hill country could be chilly at night. Elden helped gather enough firewood to keep a fire going all night. “There are wild things here in the hill country, some with sharp teeth. No proper wolves, but dogs gone wild can be dangerous. Tonight, we dine on dried rations and fruit. I want no scent of cooking meat to draw them.”
They wrapped themselves in blankets and woke by turns to keep the fire burning.
Their second day led them up and down hills and once up along a narrow trail above a deep defile. Going was slow and there was little time to talk.
On the third day, they came out near a waterfall, and she stopped, pointing. “Old Man Rock,” she said. “Now I understand. He has a fine chin on him.”
Elden smiled, indulgent, but waiting.
She stiffened. “There are men behind us.” She reached further, “And to the right but at a good distance.”
“And?”
“No darkness in them. Concern perhaps?
“Well done. They’re hillmen. They keep small crofts and even market areas here, although not true towns. They’ll have someone follow us to make sure we mean no harm, but it’s unlikely they’ll come much closer than they are. A cautious folk, hillmen, but not unkind to strangers.”
“By your tone, you’ve met them.”
Elden smiled. “I have passed through the hills many times. We’re on friendly terms, the hill folk and I. We may even see their flocks from time to time; they produce fine wool in the hills.”
Past Old Man Rock, it was only another day to come out of the hills. The hillmen evidently thought them no danger as they began to see flocks of sheep and the occasional shepherd with his dog.
As they left the hills, they filled water skins at a small stream. The river was behind them now as it flowed west. There would be water for the horses here and there, but Elden wanted to ensure their drinking water.
“Two more days, and we will be near enough to Lands-end. The town is set up above the sea with a cove at its base. We’ll see it in the distance.”
They ate cold rations that night and dried fruit side by small fire. They spoke little; there were no lessons. Elden was tense, and she could feel his worry. He had not told his apprentice that he planned to leave her behind on the last day. He knew she wasn’t ready for what he had to face and wanted to forestall the arguments he knew his decision would bring. He also knew he could leave her in a binding spell, with the horses for protection, long enough for his business to be completed, but he thought of the idea with deep displeasure. While he hoped to come from Lands-end alive, he was uncertain of the outcome. He continued to review his War spells and protections but, if Harrolen had been using them constantly overseas… Life is always uncertain, he thought, watching his apprentice sleep.
There had been no sign or rumor of the army he had expected his message, sent through Polsen, would raise. No sign of the Brotherhood gathered to deal with one of their own gone rogue. He was nearly sure that no message had been sent and feared that his friend might be dead.
Have all my choices been wrong? I tried to draw them from the Brotherhood to give them time, but suppose I was wrong; suppose he only wants my life. Stupid to think I was safe in West Riversgate, although I discerned no darkness there. Light, I was so tired! His recriminations were cut short when something brushed his shoulder. He reached up to stroke Jez. “I know, I know. I’m sorry I worried you.” The stallion pushed his shoulder. “Yes, I’ll sleep now. Nothing else to do with you keeping such good watch.”
They were both more alert for trouble the next day, even though the fields were still prosperous and well-tended. They were a good thirty miles from Lands-end when they stopped for lunch. They had only trail rations and dried fruit, filling but hardly tasty.
“Elden, if we are to have something substantial for supper, I’ll need to hunt. There were birds earlier, roused as we passed. A short ride, a brief stalk, and a better meal tonight.”
“We’re too close,” he said firmly.
“Close, yes, but there hasn’t yet been any darkness, nothing to mar to the last few days. Besides, the birds are behind us, so I’ll need to ride away from the town.”
“You’re restless?”
“You’ve taken us miles out of our way; no farmhouses, few people to report they have seen riders, yes, I’m restless. And hungry.” Her tone was insistent.
Elden stretched out with his far-sense, feeling a prickle here and there but nothing to worry him. Still, he worried. “Mark our place and mind your distance,” he cautioned.
“Just when have I been lost?” she asked sweetly.
“Be off then.”
They had unsaddled the horses, but she needed no saddle with Bright. Taking her bow, she looked at him, “Nap and dream of a fine supper.” She put her heels to Bright and they were off.
***
Brillar doubled back on their track for miles, to where she had seen birds in the distance. She crossed an open field and went through a short, wooded patch. She had gone over three miles from the road when she felt something, darkness moving quickly and from the road behind her. She urged Bright into a canter, reaching forward.
At the camp, Elden was suddenly on his feet. “Brillar,” he breathed.
Bright was in a gallop now, moving through an open field heading away from the road and the camp. More horses and men came from the right. She expected spells but none came. She was moving Bright to the left when a group of horsemen came from the wood on that side, their horses fresh. She urged Bright back to the right but was cut off. Murmuring a spell for the mare, she was rewarded with a fresh burst of speed, but two more men appeared, cutting her off, one swinging a rope. A few strides more and the rope found her, wrenching her backward and hurling her to the ground. She struck her head on a rock, skidding, bow lost. Barely conscious, she was aware of a man bending over her, then there was nothing.
“The horse,” one of the men said as Bright galloped off.
“Forget the horse; we have what we came for,” was the reply. Brillar was thrown over the man’s horse, unconscious, and carried off.
***
At camp, Elden reached out, searching, finding only small signs and patches of darkness but nothing from his apprentice. He waited, pacing, uncertain, for an hour before Bright, heavily lathered and wild-eyed, joined them.
“Brillar,” he said, choking as he leaned against Bright before he could fall. There was nothing to do; it was nearly dusk, and Bright was exhausted. All he could do was wait for the morning.
***
The men who had taken Brillar had horses set in relays toward Lands-end. When she started to rouse, something harsh was poured into her mouth. She tried to spit it out, but her jaw was clamped shut until she swallowed the bitter drink. Two changes of horses and they clattered through the dark gate at Lands-end and to the home of their lord. Lord Harrolen.
“Confine her,” he told them, “and have her drink this.” He handed them a flask. The men nodded and carried her to a cell, shackling her wrists, and forcing another potion down her throat.
Harrolen took an easy supper; Elden took none. He rubbed Bright down, giving her a small drink, then walking her. He brushed her coat and let her drink her fill. It would not do, he thought to himself, for Brillar to find her mare weak and muscle strained. And we have a lot of ground to cover in the morning.
When Harrolen had dined, he went to Brillar’s cell, where guards were posted. “She drank?” he asked.
“As you said,” came the uncomfortable reply.
Harrolen looked at the man sharply. “It’s necessary. He must come alone.” The man nodded reluctantly.
Harrolen took a lantern into the cell. The walls were damp, redolent of mold. For a moment, he studied his prisoner as she lay on stale, musty hay, then he took out a small flask and shook it. A K’ish potion. He bent down, forced Brillar’s mouth open and emptied the contents, making sure it was swallowed. He stepped back to wait for it to take effect.
His men had already told him what they knew of the story. When no word came from Pilik, he had sent others to search and found Trog. A few silver coins and the man had told them everything they needed to know about Pilik’s death and the archer who had killed him. Now he had her foldbox with the crest of the Sisterhood that marked her as a mage from the Life School. He knew she must have removed the dimlock, but that scarcely interested him. No, he needed to understand why she was still with Garnelden and if he would come for her. “Now,” he said, as she roused, “I think we should have a talk.” He sat on a small bench his men had placed in the cell for him.
The drug was powerful; the blow to her head had left her sick and dizzy, so she had little will to resist. The first drugs had been used to keep her unconscious, and the last sapped her strength even as it woke her. She tried to fight the questions but couldn’t find enough Control. Mana slipped away as it was called, not even leaving enough for her to cast a cleansing spell. The brief session left her drained, exhausted.
Satisfied at last that he knew all he would get with the small methods he had used, sure that he knew all he needed, Harrolen forced another K’ish potion through her lips and left her slumped on the straw. He had paid the guild of the K’ish extremely well for the potions and for the charms that blocked her use of spells. It would take time enough for her to waken, time enough.
Now he will come, thought Harrolen. Now, he will kill to save his apprentice.
***
Elden began before first light and covered the ground to Lands-end at a gallop, strengthening both Jez and Bright when they needed it. He took the horses to within a half-mile of the gate. He had seen no one. He removed their bridles and unsaddled them, stroking Jez affectionately on the cheek then doing the same with Bright.
“You know the way,” he told Jez, who had been bred and born at a house of the Brotherhood. “Take Bright home with you.” He gave the chestnut a slap on the hindquarters and, shoulders hunched, filled with regret and foreboding, turned away toward the town. A few strides, then he straightened and quickened his pace. Whatever waited, he had to be ready.
The town gate swung open as Elden approached, although he neither heard nor saw anyone. It stayed open as he went through and down the cobbled street.
So he doesn’t expect me to flee, he thought grimly.
The street was utterly, disconcertingly quiet. Nothing seemed to move. Rats had all appeared to have found their holes; even the people he could sense were disturbingly still. The streets widened; his path ahead was clear. He walked by quiet shops and homes, knowing his way, and stopped at a wide plaza.
Drawing a breath, he stepped into the open, unprotected, half expecting a dozen arrows, but there was nothing. A few paces more, and he stopped in front of a broad, short stairway. Harrolen, dressed in the simple clothing of a Brother, appeared at the top of the stairs and descended two steps to face him.
Elden glared up at him. “Where is she?” he demanded, his voice harsh.
At Harrolen’s gesture, a guard appeared on his right, dragging Brillar in shackles, an archer by her side. Elden stiffened.
“She’s unhurt thus far, only drugged,” Harrolen answered the unasked question. “Although taking her may have caused some bruises.” Elden scowled at him at that, his face tightening. “Still, I will release her as soon as we have finished our business.”
“And what guarantee—” Elden began.
“You have no guarantees,” was the shouted reply. “You deserve no guarantees. And,” he menaced, “I could always tell them to kill her now. Or perhaps they should take their pleasure first?”
At the threat, Elden took a step forward. Archers appeared instantly.
“Another step, and you both die,” Harrolen said callously.
Elden took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “My life for hers then.” The words came out more calmly than they were felt.
“I don’t want your life!” was the screamed answer, and Harrolen was suddenly trembling violently. He collapsed on a step. “I want no more lives.” The shuddering words sounded as if they were said through tears.
