Daughter of Hauk (The Raven Chronicles Book 1) (18 page)

              “Three clerics? You can’t be serious, Y’Dürkie.” Barek’s voice broke in. “No offense Arwenna, but I don’t know how good having three of you taking turns healing us is going to turn out. We need skilled fighters. Let’s get honest here, even with me and Y’Dürkie it took an added effort from the rest to kill some of the things we’ve fought.”

              Arwenna opened her mouth to answer, but stopped as she heard Joss speak up. “Irini and I do have some offensive capabilities, Barek. I’m actually much better at magic when I have a target I can aim at. We’d do target practice at the rectory when I was younger.” He crossed the small space between the cots and where she sat. “I’m very good at hitting my target and making sure nothing was left of it.”  Arwenna almost caught a hint of a threat in the statement, but dismissed the idea quickly.

              “Tell the people to go home, Barek, and live out their lives as best they can. Let Senyan win this round. We can find this Gem and bring the war to him on our terms.”  Arwenna added some iron to her voice.

              Barek considered the idea before countering with one of his own. “We go after this Gem, but I’m not disbanding the army. We let D’Mitta take over. Let those who want to go do so, but she can do a good guerrilla campaign while we’re gone. I’d rather have fewer to fight when we come back than more.”

              Arwenna considered the merits of Barek’s idea before speaking again. “It’s decided, then. We leave at first light. Once we get some fresh horses and gear, we can be on our way as well. Y’Dürkie, any idea of the location of this monastery?”  Arwenna glanced up at her sister, waiting for a reply.

              “I am not entirely certain. I know ve have some monks that have joined up. One of them might know the vay.”

              Arwenna nodded. “Do that. Let them know we don’t expect them to travel farther than the monastery with us. I want to travel light if we can, we’ll make better time. Five is a small enough group not to cause much talk, but we shouldn’t try to increase it by much. At least not until we start learning what we’re up against.”  She rose, walking towards her cot to begin packing the bare necessities for the trip. Something fluttered about at the edge of her mind. There should be someone else coming with them, someone who was important but she hadn’t seen all day.

              A gust of wind blew some dust through the tent and into her eyes, causing her to blink. Whatever had been teasing her mind left as she rubbed the sand from her eyes.

              A flurry of activity kept Arwenna busy for the next several hours. Messages were sent left and right to inform various groups of the decision to reorganize under D’Mitta’s command. There was a mad scramble of bodies trying hard to repack saddle bags and packs, leaving room for necessary items only. At one point, Lian came by to bid Arwenna a tearful farewell.

              “I want to go home, Arwenna. Get married, raise a family. I wish I could still come with you, but…” a motion from Arwenna cut her off in mid-sentence.

              “It’s okay, Lian. Go home and be happy. I would rather you do that for me than ride alongside me any day. If Hauk is with us, we’ll find each other again one day. Joss says he knows who your fiancée is. He’ll help me track you down.”  A quick hug was exchanged and Arwenna shooed her out the door of the pavilion.

              Just before dawn, a sentry informed them that horses stood ready outside the pavilion. Another group waited expectantly. One of them, a monk, approached Arwenna as they emerged from the tent.

              “Greetings, Chosen One. My name is Taro. I once resided at the monastery you travel to and was told you could use my service as a guide. I am not certain you will find what you seek there, as the fire was very thorough. We will take you there, though.” She gestured behind her to the other people.

              Arwenna quickly scanned the faces in front of her. A strange group to be certain. Still, this group of people conducted themselves as though they had known travel of this sort before and were well equipped for it.

              “Aye that we do. And please call me Arwenna. I’d rather not have anyone tripping over a title during a battle or dinner. I don’t know what may cross our path between here and the monastery, but there are three clerics traveling with you so we should be able to keep everyone healthy for the most part. Once we reach the monastery, you are free to go as you choose. We do not ask that you travel farther than that with us.”  She glanced around and noticed the last of the packs were being loaded onto a spare horse. Joss and the others had mounted up and patiently waited for her to do the same. Arwenna swung up into her saddle gracefully. Gesturing to Taro, she brought her horse in line to follow her away from the torn up valley below.

Chapter Twenty-Five

            
 
T
aro kept to the woods, deftly trying to work around any potential confrontations with Senyan’s army.
That’s fine with me
, Arwenna thought. The last thing they needed was for Senyan to start a race to this relic.

              The journey was shorter than Arwenna expected. She was somewhat surprised when Taro pulled up short around mid-afternoon on the third day. Following her outstretched hand, Arwenna could see the blackened remains of a large monastery nestled between two large hills. Grapevines grew wild, slowly encroaching on the walls of the commune.

              Arwenna looked curiously at Taro as she dismounted about half a mile from the entry gate. “It’s barred from the inside, “she explained. “I have to go in another way and unlock it. It’s not much, I know, but I did not wish to leave my brethren to the scavengers.”  With that, she handed the reins of her horse over to a warrior before silently disappearing into the brush.

              Walking cautiously, the rest continued on to the front gate. In less than five minutes, the noise of a large bar being lifted and dropped reached their ears. The doors swung open as Taro stood aside so they could enter. Once inside the courtyard, Taro and one of her companions barred the gate once again. “For protection tonight.”

              Arwenna scanned the courtyard, evidence of a long ago major battle was everywhere. Almost all the buildings were charred skeleton remains, though some of the stables seemed to be still habitable.               “Several of the main rooms were underground. The fires still reached them, but it will provide good shelter for the night.”  Taro explained as she helped tend to the horses. “Sal, do you remember the path to the library?” 

              A man nodded in reply. “I’ll take them down. I doubt they want to wait until you’re done dealing with the horses.”  Arwenna and the others left Taro and her group as they followed Sal into the charred remains of a building.

              Someone had the presence of mind to bring a lantern with them, which was handed over to Sal. The going was slow. Picking their way over fallen beams and the charred remains of collapsed ceilings, they followed Sal down a long corridor. He stopped before the remains of a doorway. “It was in here, but I’m not sure if you’ll find much. The fire pretty much devoured this area.”

              Arwenna nodded and entered the room carefully. The charred remains of bookcases and books littered the floor. The library itself seemed enormous, the extent of damage endless. Picking through piles on the floor, they all started searching for any text still legible that might lead them to a clue about the Gem of Tiren.

              An excited yelp from Y’Dürkie sent them all scrambling over debris to reach her. “I think I found somethink!”  She raised a charred manuscript high into the air.

              Arwenna reached her first and gingerly took the burned book out of her hands. Most of the book was illegible, but a small passage remained that could be read. Sal raised the lantern up higher to give Arwenna more light as she read aloud.

              “And thus was the Gem of Tiren found and wielded by Hector the Mighty. The Gem did grant him victory over his enemies and peace was once again brought to the lands. Hector the Mighty did have a sword crafted for him, and had the Gem of Tiren mounted in the hilt. It was said that the blade itself erupted into a green blade of ice whenever Hector unsheathed it; such was the power and color of the Gem. Hector was slain by an assassin in his bed, and the Gem of Tiren pried out from the socket. The thief was never found. Hector was entombed with the sword.”

              Arwenna paused as the entry halted where the fire had eaten away at the rest of the page. Very gingerly, she tore the page from the book and tucked it away in her belt pouch. “Well, anyone have an idea where Hector the Mighty might have lived, died, or been entombed?” 

              Sal coughed, as if clearing his throat. “I’ve read of him some. He ruled a land to the east, across the sea. There was a small coastal island near the city of Oranji that was referred to as “Hector’s Isle.”  I had the chance to explore the area several years back. There’s not much left out there. Most of the place had been taken apart by looters. There was a mausoleum, though. It had a carving on top of a man holding a sword, but you could tell something was missing from the hilt of the sword. I took it that grave robbers had pried out any jewel that was there eons ago, but the tomb itself looked undisturbed.”

              Arwenna glanced at her friends, the same idea crossing their faces as was in her own mind. “Looks like we need to find a boat and go sailing.”  She knew she didn’t need to say anything more.

              “There’s a small logging and fishing village to the northeast from here. There’s usually someone there that can at least take you up the coast further until you reach the ducal port city. Or you can ride overland to Almair directly. I’m guessing you’d rather not try and find a ship leaving out of Tanisal.”  Sal started to lead them back upstairs. Once there, he rejoined his friends.

              Arwenna looked at each of her companions. “It seems we have a few options ahead of us. Which sounds better to the bunch of you?”

              “I’m thinking that finding that small port and sailing up the coast is better than overland.”  Barek swatted at a fly buzzing near his ear. “Senyan doesn’t know where we are going, but more than likely, he will search on land instead of over the sea.”

              “If we’re lucky, Senyan doesn’t even know we’re gone yet. And I want to keep it that way. I agree with you, Barek. We need to get directions to that port Sal mentioned and get on a boat as soon as possible.”  Arwenna scanned the sky quickly. The night was rapidly approaching. “We won’t be able to go anywhere until morning, but I’d like to be gone as soon as it’s light.”

              Barek straightened up from the small pile of debris he had been leaning against. “I’ll go talk to Taro now, let her know we’re leaving at first light. Give her something for leading us here; get some directions to this village. If Sal is right, we can be there with just a day of hard riding. Y’Dürkie, why don’t you start getting some of our gear out so these three can rest.”  With that, he stepped away and strode to the other group.

              With the decision made, Arwenna and the rest got busy putting bedrolls and blankets out for the night. A cold dinner of dried beef and cheese was quickly distributed. Arwenna sat on one of the makeshift chairs Barek and Y’Dürkie created out of some of the rubble and began to comb out her hair before rebraiding it for the night. Barek and Y’Dürkie were over with the other group, discussing a watch rotation for the night. Joss was off somewhere, trying to find anything extra to help them in the morning. Arwenna relaxed and let her guard drop for the first time in months.

              The hard ground scraped against her as she fell, Joss’ body shielding hers. Barek, Y’Dürkie and the rest came charging across the courtyard at her.               Barek leapt over her as Joss rolled clear. Arwenna looked around trying to figure out what had happened. Barek held Irini, his massive arms almost squeezing the breath out of her. A strange, unfocused look was her face. Alarmed, Arwenna spun her attention back to Joss. His breathing was shallow. A black handled dagger stuck out of him, just below his ribcage. She cradled his head in her lap, tearing open his shirt with her hands. The blade of the dagger was buried deep. Black lines formed in his skin, traveling from the wound outwards. In horror, she looked at his face. He saw the same thing she did.

              “The blade is cursed, Arwenna. If you heal me, I’m still going to carry around the evil. I won’t be any different than Senyan in the end.”  Her tears started falling on his face.

              “No, please. You can’t do this.”  Her plea was barely audible.

              “Let me go. I won’t let them turn me into another one the likes of Senyan, Arwenna. I won’t be a party to hurting you like that.”  His breathing became more labored.

              Tears streamed down her face as she gently kissed him on the forehead. “I love you,” she whispered in his ear as she felt his soul depart, the black lines reaching his heart. She tenderly laid him on the ground and shut his eyes with her hands.

              Moving fast, Arwenna leapt up and drove one of her own daggers right into Irini’s heart. “Be sure to tell your master that he just made the biggest mistake of his entire existence.”  She growled at Irini as she died in Barek’s arms.

              Watching Irini crumple into a heap, Arwenna calmly retrieved her dagger and wiped the blood off on Irini’s skirt. She turned to Barek, the viciousness in her voice making him take a step backwards. “I want him dead, Barek. I want Senyan’s body broken into pieces at my feet for this.”  She gestured at Joss’ dead form. Pointing at Irini’s corpse, she snarled. “Someone make sure that little wench can’t be brought back. I’ve got another rite to perform.”  She spun on her heel and knelt at Joss’ lifeless body, rites to speed his passing formed on her lips as the tears flowed down her face.