Dark Lightning (11 page)

‘Send someone to this temple to escort Azarine’s party back.’  

Penn nodded. ‘I think I know where the temple is. The people are unsettled, and it’s not safe for her to be out and about without someone to guard her.’

But Azarine and her companions were nowhere near any temple, and neither could ruins of any significance be found by the search party.

Once clear of the city of Arles, Azarine’s party had gradually been joined by troopers wearing the insignia of the peregrine. As a body, the men, their women and their children surrounded the little cart, keeping them out of sight of prying eyes as they pushed forward.

Now they were camped in the forest. They slept under the stars, on ground warmed by the inner fire of the mountains. They used one of the warm pools in which to bathe, surrounded modestly with screens made from woven branches and leaves.

Azarine loved being away from Cynan and the intrigue of the Arles Manor.

She loved being outdoors, loved the canopy of the forest over her head and the way the sky darkened to a smoky darkness at night. The stars shone, some like quick blazes of light, others giving off a soft glow.

Her childhood came back to her, of riding into the countryside with her father and mother and spending the night studying the sky. She’d made a chart, and knew which stars brought the seasons. Some of the stars belonged to ancient Gods. Bane was filled with discontented souls, and the anger made it pulsate an angry red. Warlike creatures with foul breath and filthy habits lived on Bane. Yet there was something about the darkness of Bane that drew her. It made her tremble to remember she’d sworn an oath of revenge on the dark lord, and was thankful he didn’t seem to have heard her.

Her eyes searched between the branches for a small blue star. It was said that a young goddess had playfully set it rolling across the sky, too fast for anyone to see. They felt it passing sometimes, and the trees were uprooted by the great wind it generated.

But tonight the wind was a fragrant balm that kissed her skin and she could hear pleasant whispers rising and falling around her like a little choir of children.        

Azarine was pleased that Danea and Esbel were still with her. She was also pleased that her brother was of an age to gain his knowledge. Something momentous was about to happen ... something long awaited. She could feel an angry triumph swelling inside her.

She whispered his name into the wind.
‘Falcon Darkwater ...’

* * * *

A long way away, Hal lifted his head.

He was alone in this place of the whispering winds. He felt pain as he struggled to stay awake, for to sleep before his knowledge was complete could only bring madness.

Hal had relived his travels with Orish, and was aware of everything Orish had taught him. He’d been sad to leave the ancient, but Orish was an immortal and he needed to regenerate. Remy had gone on with the old man and would be inducted into the brotherhood of seers when his skills had been developed.

The events leading up to his birth had been exposed to his gaze. He saw his brothers, young lads being tortured to death in front of their parents, and felt the fright they tried to hide.

Having witnessed the cruel demise of his family with horror he now stood outside of his mother’s womb watching his own gory entry into the world. The elfish woman had taken on the responsibility of carrying out the deed, for his mother would not allow Azarine to carry her death on her conscience. A little way off was a trooper, the man who’d sought to kill him in the womb.

He understood that he would have died then, had his sister not intervened. He should have died since he was not immortal like Orish and Remy.

 His mother, Yvaine, had expended the last of her strength into his blood when he began to weaken, giving him memories that were not his, even while she was dying. His muted scream of agony when the shaft had pierced him had not yet been released, but the ferocity of it infused him to the core. No wonder his life had been accompanied by bad dreams. He was being used as an instrument for Azarine’s revenge, a revenge that wasn’t his. Yet he hadn’t the strength to stop it.

‘Falcon Darkwater . . ‘.

He gathered his wits about him.
‘
Azarine ... my sister ... I can hear your voice.’ He had watched her violation by the conqueror and the innocence had fallen prematurely from her eyes. He’d heard her vow of revenge and knew she must avenge the wrong done to their family. He’d caught a glimpse of Azarine with a baby in her arms, but she kept it well protected.

The conqueror’s son ... an eye-for-an-eye came into his mind as the suffering of his brothers attacked him.

‘Grow with the honor of your father and mother, Falcon Darkwater, true lord of Karshal’.

He could feel the blood dripping his life from his wound.
‘
Azarine, my beloved sister, I greet you,’ he whispered, remembering he’d caught a glimpse of her in Arles when they’d been doing a magic show. ‘I don’t know whether I have strength enough to survive this, or can carry it through.’

‘Do not doubt yourself, Falcon Darkwater. Take the gift of my strength and make us one. Close your eyes. When you wake the scales will be gone from your eyes. You will be different to either our father or our mother for they loved peace, and you were born out of blood and war and the need for revenge. This second birth is one of fire, and when all is done you will know yourself and rule wisely.’

* * * *

‘I do not understand,’ Danea said worriedly. ‘Azarine was fine yesterday. Now I cannot rouse her, and her pulses are very weak.’

The follower placed a hand against Azarine’s forehead then peeled back her eyelids and gazed at her eyes. She nodded. ‘Your lady has joined her mind with one who needs her strength to be reborn. He is in command of her life force and will take much from her. They are one blood and one mind.’

‘Azarine is in danger then. Is there anything I can do to rouse her?’

‘If you try to break the link and succeed they’ll both perish.’ The follower smiled at Danea. ‘My apprentice and I can ease the strain on her. While this is going on please do not attempt to wake us.’

‘A rebirth, you said.’ Esbel’s eyes began to glow and she fingered the jade amulet she wore. ‘Will it take long?’

‘I cannot say but I’ll put a protective barrier around us and hope you’ll guard us.’ She beckoned to the young woman with her.

Seating herself next to Azarine the apprentice took her hand, while the sister took her other hand. Soon they made a circle. Before a minitix had passed by there was a blue light shimmering and circling around them.

Danea had never seen such magic before, and gazed at Esbel, her eyes filled with excitement. ‘Do you know what’s happening, Esbel?’

Esbel could guess. ‘The surviving son of Sabarin is about to make his presence known, I think.’

Danea’s eyes widened. ‘I thought Azarine’s family had been put to death, and she was the only survivor?’

‘Apart from Azarine one other was saved ... a son Yvaine carried in her womb. The first breath he took was the one exhaled by Yvaine when she died.’

Esbel suddenly realized that Danea, who shared Cynan’s blood, might be a part of Falcon’s revenge.

No! Azarine would never allow it. She’d brought Danea into her household as a means to protect her from any carnage that might arise from the situation. Esbel didn’t want the girl to take fright, and hoped it didn’t occur to Azarine.

‘Come, Danea ... we’ll make some screens to give Azarine and the sisters some privacy.’

Danea had tears in her eyes. ‘If Azarine doesn’t survive this who will tell my brother Laek?’

 Esbel squeezed her hand. ‘One of the commanders, I imagine.’

The air was filled with an uneasy tension and light shone in the eyes of those with watcher blood as they silently communicated. If Azarine failed in her quest there would be carnage.

Then came a long, throbbing moan of agony that rose and fell, and the fires on the mountain flared and flickered, as if Bane had been roused from his slumber. Azarine whimpered.

‘It is done.’ The sisters rose and attended to Azarine’s comfort, then quietly departed, leaving her in a deep and exhausted sleep.

* * * *

There had been war games between the three islands, the participants using safety guards on the cutting edge of their weapons. But each tap from a sword, dagger or arrow, tagged the recipient, who then made his way to the waiting trimarine. Belia had been captured, but that was to be expected when they were the weakest of the recruits. Still, they’d fought well and bravely and each had proudly earned their ranks. The defeated had left in a trimarine that same day, escorted back to the harbor at Arles by one of the commanders.

Abakar was a day’s sail away. There, the last eight contenders for the cup would be decided, and they would travel to Soran.

Laek, and his companions were looking forward to the coming stoush. The recruits on Abakar were superior as a fighting body. Laek’s group had been left intact, something they all welcomed, for they were now a tight fighting unit.

All of them were tautly muscled, fit and lithe, so they couldn’t help but swagger a little and show off to each other in their manliness.

They discussed battle strategy before they rested for the night. Laek was sorry his training was over and knew he’d miss this camp of theirs. Jon and Iago were already asleep, Tighe was as still as a statue, neither awake nor asleep, but resting in a meditative state, subconsciously aware. He would come awake in an instant if needed.

Laek was keeping watch, and as usual, gazing into the lake and thinking. He had sense of waiting, and experienced the pull of some future destiny. The revelation of his blood kin had been a welcome one. Now his conscience didn’t prick him every time he was disloyal to the ruthless man he’d called father. Soon, all would be clear to him.

 A red glow surrounded the moon – something that would be causing unease in the population. Ripples in the water alerted him to the presence of Jynx. Dressed in white, her hair hung in pale glowing ripples down her back. She was so exquisite that his breath caught in his throat.

He’d never really thought of Jynx in any other way than friendship, but now reminded of his manliness he faced the fact that he’d been deprived of female companionship for some time. Even while appalled by his thoughts concerning Jynx, he grinned. If she knew how his mind was working she’d give him a tongue-lashing, then stalk off, her backside taut and twitching with affront.

‘Why are you grinning in that horrible manner?’

 He huffed with laughter. If only she knew. ‘I’m pleased to see you, why else? Where are you Jynx?’

‘I’m in Karshal, in the tower of the followers.’

‘There is no tower in Karshal. If there had been Servish would have pulled it down by now. The commanders say streets of Karshal are unsafe with him in charge. He is excessive in his need to punish and torture. Servish thinks nothing of using young maidens for sport, for himself and his men.’

‘Does Lord Cynan know?’

‘He knows, but gives Servish free rein, and although my mother has managed to dampen his appetite for brutality in Arles, she has not been able to curb his vicarious pleasure at reading the reports Servish sends to him.’

He’d considered of late that Cynan had allowed Servish to thin out the people of Karshal so there wouldn’t be enough true-bloods left to rise up against him. ‘Be very careful, Jynx. Servish is no respecter of women.’

She shuddered. ‘You’re mistaken about the tower Laek. There are two of them, one for men and one for the women. They socialize together at mealtimes in a dining hall that connects the two towers. I think the towers are invisible to anyone but the followers. They are certainly strange, for sometimes there is a door or stairs where there wasn’t one before.’

Laek mulled that over for a moment and then he smiled, remembering that Remy had once told him an ancient story about the chimera world. He hadn’t believed it then, but now, nothing surprised him. ‘The towers are probably built and maintained by a collective imagination. How is your brother?’

‘He’s gone and I’m left alone, except for Wulf.’

Horrified, Laek almost shouted, ‘Where has he gone?’

‘I know not, to the mountains, I believe. Remy has apprenticed himself to Orish, who is one of the ancients. Hal has gone to find himself.’

‘Hal?’

A tender smile touched her lips and he felt a stab of annoyance that Jynx could think of any man with fondness. ‘Can you trust this Hal? What do you mean when you say he’s gone to find himself.’

‘That’s what he told me. He said he will be changed when he returns, but I will know him. As for trust; he’s the most trustworthy man I know – apart from you and Remy, of course. When you meet him you will know that too.’

‘What is this man to you, Jynx?’

‘He’s a traveler. He’s kind, and has been good to us.’

‘Do you care for him?’

He could almost see steam rising from the surface of the water from her heated blush. Jynx was only sixteen seasons, too young to fall in love, he thought, and then he hesitated. No. She was nearly three seasons older, as was he. Like him, Jynx had left her childhood behind.

Yet ... she was still too young and innocent to have her heart broken.

‘Of course I care for Hal,’ she said now. ‘I have nobody else. My parents hate me and they have sent Emrys after us. At least Remy will be protected now. Sybilla said Emrys won’t be able to find me here because we’re protected by magic.’

‘I’m relieved. You must stay there until I’ve finished my training. I will seek you out as soon as I can. I must sleep now, for the final mock battle is on the morrow, when we will earn our insignia.’

‘Sleep well then, Laek. I wanted you to know I’m safe, in case you were worried. Are you well?’

The loneliness in Jynx’s voice, as well as her plight, moved him. She obviously felt the need to speak to him. ‘Aye, I’m well. I could send a message to my father and ask him to call Emrys off if you like. He might listen to me.’

‘It will do no good, Laek. I’m a fugitive now. I’ve heard that people are gathering together, and I think there is going to be an uprising ... though they have nobody to lead them yet. It’s as if they’re waiting for an appointed leader.’