Inheritance (26 page)

“But there was no talk of war after my mother’s death,” Lynan said, puzzled.

“More likely Areava’s just being cautious,” Kumul said. “She should expect some trouble on her borders, especially with Haxus to the north. So she would call in the nearest soldiers and send them out by sea.”

“Or, just as likely,” Ager added, “start a war to divert attention from the goings-on in Kendra. Three rulers in as many weeks is bound to cause a stir with more than the kingdom’s enemies.”

“Then what route do we take?” Lynan asked.

“That’s going to take some thought,” Ager admitted. “For the moment, I suggest we find a place where Jenrosa and Kumul can recover. We can’t keep on like this, two of us struggling with a stretcher. We’ll finally get caught out in the open. We need a new plan and time to think it through.”

“But where?”

Ager looked around him. “This is as good a place as any. We have fresh water and there’s fish in the stream. The trees will provide cover and shade, and we can keep an eye on troop movements from here.”

Lynan nodded. “All right. I can’t think of anything better.”

Kumul pointed upstream. “We’d better move first. We’re too close to the ford, and we can keep an eye on it just as easily from another hundred paces farther upstream and be in less danger of discovery ourselves.”

They fashioned rough tethers out of green twigs from a spear tree, and even rougher pegs out of wideoak, using them to construct a reasonably waterproof shelter by gathering together branches and pinning their ends to the ground. By using twine unthreaded from his cloak and a thorn from a nearby whip tree, Ager made a clumsy but nonetheless usable fishing line. They risked a fire that afternoon, cooking Ager’s whole catch of small fish in one go. The next day, Lynan and Ager took turns to reconnoiter the area while the other attended Jenrosa. Lynan had dressed the wound on her scalp as best he could and kept it clean, and was relieved when no infection set in. At first, she would eat nothing, drink only what was dribbled between her lips, and made hardly a sound. On three occasions she mumbled more words, but still they made no sense. Around noon, she regained consciousness, to everyone else’s great relief. They made a fuss over her, offering her water and a little fish and some berries Ager had found on one of his explorations; she gratefully ate what she could but fell asleep soon after. Her color was almost normal, however, and Lynan was sure she would be up and ready to move within a few days.

By now Kumul felt well enough to take his turn to look around the local area. His ribs were obviously not cracked after all. His side was still bruised, but he could move his arm freely, though with some pain. On the second night of their stay, the three men gathered to discuss their next move. “Between us, Kumul and I think we have devised the best way to get you to the Oceans of Grass and the Northern Chetts,” Ager told the prince. Lynan nodded for him to continue. “Twenty leagues to the north lies the Forest of Silona, a thinly populated and well covered area that will protect us from prying eyes for the next stage of our journey. The forest is nearly sixty leagues long, south to north, and will take us several days to get through.”

Lynan could not help notice Kumul’s grim expression. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Kumul sighed. “I have heard stories about this place.”

“A soldier’s tale,” Ager said dismissively. “Maybe, but most soldiers’ tales have a kernel of truth.”

“What stories?” Lynan asked.

“The forest is left alone by people who live nearby,” Kumul said. “It is a dark place, an old place, inhabited by foresters who have little liking for company. I have only seen it myself from a distance, and it still made my blood run cold.”

“We’ve discussed this,” Ager said angrily. “We both know the
real
risks. The forest is our best chance to make up distance and time and still go undetected.”

Kumul nodded resignedly. “I know. I have no other plan.”

Lynan was distinctly unsettled by the conversation, but he told Ager to continue.

“Once on the other side of the forest, we are fifty leagues from Sparro, Chandra’s capital. From there we can find passage on a boat going up the Barda River to the Ufero Mountains. After crossing the mountains we can reach the Strangers’ Sooq—the main trading town between the Cherts and merchants from the east.”

“How many days will it take us to get to the Oceans of Grass if we go this way?” Lynan asked.

Ager glanced at Kumul, the scars on the skin over his dead eye looking like crevasses in the wan moonlight. “We think it will take as long as four weeks. If everything goes well, we may cut that down to three. If things go badly, it could take as long as five or six weeks.”

“Is time no longer of the essence, then?” Lynan asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course it is,” Kumul answered shortly. “But Ager and I agree it is the quickest way for us to get to the Oceans of Grass without being captured. There are safer routes, perhaps, but they would take several months.”

“And, again, it is to be my decision?”

“Yes.”

“So if I insist we continue with the original plan, you will not argue with me?”

“No, but we may not follow you. We can’t speak for Jenrosa, but at the moment neither can she.”

“This leadership is a hollow thing, I think,” Lynan murmured bitterly.

Ager pulled gently on one ear lobe. “Your Highness, leadership is not hollow, it is two-edged; too many regard it as a privilege and not a responsibility. I’ve suffered too much at the hands of those who misuse it.” He looked up and saw Lynan’s expression. “No, lad, not your father, but I’ve served under other generals, not to mention a bounty of ship’s captains.”

“I will follow your advice.”

The two older men nodded solemnly.

Jenrosa woke again that night. She was confused and did not have the strength to sit up without assistance. She ate willingly, listened patiently to Lynan as he described what had happened since the bear had struck her down, but fell asleep again before he could tell her about the change in their plans.

“It’s all right,” Ager assured him. “There’ll be time to tell her everything when she’s fully recovered. When she wakes tomorrow, she’ll probably remember nothing of what you’ve told her tonight.”

“But she’ll be all right, now, won’t she?”

“Now that she’s climbed out of her deep sleep, I think so. I admit, I was afraid she would die on us without ever coming to. I’ve seen it happen before.”

Ager lay back and closed his eyes. Lynan sat in the darkness of their makeshift shelter, Jenrosa’s head in his lap, listening to a chorus of frogs from the stream’s banks. He could also hear the soft footsteps of Kumul outside, restless as a tiger. Absently, he stroked Jenrosa’s hair and wondered what her life had been like before he and his problems had set it astray. Were her parents still alive? Did she have any brothers or sisters? Suddenly it was important for him to know.

He was aware his feelings for Jenrosa had become stronger since their escape from the palace, but what those feeling were, exactly, left him confused. He had never before felt so protective about someone. He was attracted to her, but the emotion churning inside of him involved more than his desire to bed her.

And what of her feelings for him? Her attitude had been standoffish, even resentful, and this hurt him. She said she did not blame him for her predicament, but there was no doubt it was his fault she was now on the run, her life in constant danger. However, he could not help being glad she was in exile with him, nor help feeling guilty that he should be the cause of her unhappiness.

And her injury, he reminded himself. What if she dies? It would be his fault.

He had no answers to his questions, and they filled his heart like a great leaden weight.

The next day Jenrosa tried standing. She managed to walk a few paces before falling back into Lynan’s arms. Ager had been right about her memory, but Lynan patiently recounted everything a second time, adding the change in plan.

“I wonder if I’ll ever get back to Kendra,” she mused aloud, and Lynan felt a pang of homesickness also. “I don’t have any choice but to go along, do I?”

“The kingdom’s soldiers can’t look for us forever. When things quiet down, perhaps you can go back to a life in one of the cities or towns.”

“But not Kendra.”

Lynan shrugged. He did not know what to say.

“I don’t know how fit I am to travel,” Jenrosa said, “but I’ll try not to slow you down too much.”

“We can wait here for a day or two more,” Ager said, “but not much longer. We’re pushing our luck by staying in one place for so long. Eventually, some local will notice our smoke or stumble across our shelter.”

“The most dangerous part of the journey will be from here to the Forest of Silona,” Kumul said. “It’s all open farming country, and we’ll stick out like trees in a desert. So rest well now, for when we start, we must move quickly.”

They never got their extra day. The next morning, soon after the four had eaten a light breakfast, Lynan accompanied Jenrosa as she tried to exercise, intending to walk her to the ford and back. At first her feet were unsteady, but by the time they had reached the ford she was walking normally if more slowly than usual.

“How do you feel?” Lynan asked her.

“Like someone’s inside my skull trying to break out with a hammer. If I move too quickly, I think my head will explode, and all my joints turn to jelly. But I’ll survive.” She turned and smiled at him, touched by the look of concern on his face. “I hear you saved my life.”

Lynan blushed. “It’s my fault you’re involved in any of this at all. The least I could do was stop you from being killed.”

Jenrosa laughed at his words, then groaned and held her head between her hands. “Laughing hurts, too. It’s ridiculous, isn’t it…”

There was a sound of approaching feet from the other side of the stream. Lynan glanced up, expecting to see Ager or Kumul. Instead, he saw an armed man dressed in stained brown leather and carrying a long sword. Lank, shiny black hair fell down to his shoulders, and wide brown eyes stared at them eagerly from out of a round, pockmarked face. The warrior gave a triumphant yell and charged the two friends, swinging his sword over his head.

Both Jenrosa and Lynan reached for their daggers, but it was too late to do anything effective against their attacker.

The warrior was only two paces from them when Kumul charged into him, hurling him violently into the stream. Kumul’s momentum carried him forward and he tripped over the stranger, but he quickly scrabbled to his feet. He turned to face the warrior, but he was lying down in the water, unconscious.

“Get back to the shelter!” Kumul roared at his two friends. “Tell Ager to hurry!” He bent down and retrieved the stranger’s sword.

“Kumul—” Lynan began, but Jenrosa yanked hard on his arm.

“For God’s sake, do as he says! Come on!”

Even as Jenrosa spoke, four other men, dressed and armed similarly to the first, came running over the rise. They skidded to a halt when they saw Kumul standing astride the ford, their fallen companion at his feet.

Lynan pushed Jenrosa away from him. “Go on!” he shouted. “Get Ager!” Without waiting to see if she left or not, he ran back to Kumul, stopping behind him because the ford was not wide enough for them to stand side by side.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Kumul hissed at him.

“I’m not running away,” Lynan replied, sounding more determined than he felt.

“And what do you think you’ll do with me between you and the enemy? Stab at them with your knife between my legs?”

“If I have to.”

“You’d better be bloody sure of your aim, lad,” Kumul said grimly.

Having decided that four against two was reasonable odds, even if one of them was halfway to being a giant, the soldiers on the rise started moving forward.

“Don’t be fools,” Kumul warned them, his voice almost paternal. “Do you really think any of you can take me on?”

The four hesitated, glancing uncertainly at each other, but then continued their advance.

“I wish I could brag with Ager’s conviction,” Kumul whispered out of the side of his mouth.

“I was convinced,” Lynan confided.

Kumul laughed, and this made their opponents even more uncertain.

“Hang this. We can’t afford to let any of them get away. Do you think you can take out one of them if I provide you with a sword?”

“Sure.” Lynan’s voice sounded a little too high for his liking. “Maybe two.”

“Just worry about one to start with.”

The strangers arranged themselves into a line and were about to start across the ford when Kumul sounded his battle cry and charged forward, scattering them back, two of them tripping over. Kumul jumped over them to reach the bank, sidestepped to the right and swung his sword at the startled soldier in front of him, the blade cutting into the man’s head just above his left ear. There was a sickening crunch, a fountain of blood, and the man collapsed. Kumul picked up the man’s sword and threw it grip-first to Lynan.

Lynan caught the gift and enthusiastically engaged the other soldier left standing, only to find his task harder than Kumul’s. His opponent was a better than average swordsman, and although Lynan’s training gave him the edge, he was used to the weight and feel of his father’s sword. His blade flickered and slid against his enemy’s in a search for an opening. He heard combat resume behind him as Kumul defended himself against the two remaining soldiers who had now regained their feet.

Desperation fueled Lynan’s attack, and he found the extra speed he needed to parry a thrust from his opponent and send the point of his own sword into the soldier’s throat. The man gurgled and fell backward, his hands clasping hopelessly over his fatal wound.

Lynan spun on his feet and charged into the melee around Kumul, screaming something he hoped sounded bloodcurdling.

One of the enemy turned to face him but had to retreat under the barrage of blows Lynan directed against him. The soldier lost his balance and slipped forward, straight onto Lynan’s sword. Lynan twisted his weapon out from between the man’s ribs. By then Kumul had dispatched the last of the enemy, and stood panting over him, his arm covered in blood.