Lodestone Book One: The Sea of Storms (16 page)

“It has nothing
to do with that.
I…I just have to make it
right.”

Alondo was
speaking to Lyall’s back. “I understand. We
will
get her out. But let’s come up
with a plan first. We are no good to Shann if we’re
dead.”

Lyall stopped
and whirled around. “I was the one who sent her in there, Alondo. I
am responsible.
Me.
I have to get her back.”

“And just how
do you propose to do that?
Think,
Lyall.
Two dozen soldiers and four Keltar.
Wasn’t that what that woman said? You can’t do this without
help.”

Lyall let out a sigh. “Look, I
appreciate the offer, really I do. And I know you want to get her
back as much as I do. But in this instance, one person on their own
stands the best chance.”

“All right, all right, but you
can’t go there now. The moment someone goes to inspect the
guardhouse, the place will be in an uproar. At least wait a
while.”

Lyall paused, deep in thought.
“Very well, we wait till Ail-Kar, the white sun rises. Then I will
go in. You stay with the morgren. Wait till the white sun sets. If
I am not back by then, take the road east. I will catch up to
you.”

They crested the windward side of
the dune. Their tiny encampment sat in the slack; white awnings
undulating in a gentle breeze; the morgren, standing stoically off
to one side. Lyall and Alondo scrambled down the dip side, kicking
up sand as they went. Lyall sat down in the shade. Reaching for a
water skin, he took a long draught, and offered it to Alondo, who
accepted it gratefully.

The two sat in silence for a
while. Alondo wanted to ask what he should do if his friend didn’t
catch up to him–if he never returned. But he could not bring
himself to frame the question. Instead he asked, “Lyall, how is it
that they knew of our plan?”

Lyall was staring at the lightly
shifting sands. “I wish I knew. Neither Hedda nor Moina knew of our
destination. Even if they had, they would have died rather than
betray us. Shann was with us the whole time until…”

“Until we sent her into the
compound.” Alondo completed the thought. “Could she have tipped
them off?”

Lyall was
shaking his head. “No, it’s impossible. I know the girl. I’ve lived
with her these past few days, worked with her. I know how she feels
about the Prophet and everything he stands for. Besides, there is
no way that they could have gathered
six
Keltar at the compound in that
time. They must have known what we were up to long before
that.”

Alondo felt a surge of relief.
Shann had an innocence and a vulnerability about her, coupled with
bravery and determination in a way that was very endearing. In the
last several days it felt as if the three of them had knitted
together into a close family. He did not want to believe that she
could have betrayed them. He quickly changed the subject. “There’s
another thing. Why would one of the Keltar turn on their
own?”

“Why indeed?” Lyall
mused.

“I know of only one other person
who tried that. And he wasn’t nearly as successful. He only had one
Keltar to deal with, and he could still only manage a draw.” Alondo
smiled to himself.

“Are you ever going to stop
bringing that up?” Lyall’s annoyance quickly subsided. “Still, she
took out half a dozen soldiers and another Keltar. I never saw or
heard anything like it.”

“And she saved our lives into the
bargain,” Alondo reminded him.

“True and I never even thanked
her.”

“Maybe you will get your chance?”
Alondo speculated.

“I hope so.” Lyall leaned back on
his elbows. “I have a feeling we are missing a big piece of the
puzzle. I also have a feeling that that woman Keris is the
key.

“Anyway, I have an important job
to do, so for now I need to get some rest. Can you stand
watch?

“Certainly,” Alondo
confirmed.

Lyall lay down under the awning.
Alondo watched as his breathing became slow and even.

I hope this is one
battle you win. For Shann’s sake.

~

As soon as Shann returned to the
enclosure, it was evident that something was wrong.

A group of four tributes, one of
whom was the boy who had first approached her, pulled the ore cart
across the sand like beasts of burden,. The cart had sleds, but was
still apt to get bogged down on occasion, causing them to have to
strain every muscle. The haul was poor, which made their task a
little easier but also put the guard in a foul mood. As soon as any
one of the four stumbled, they found themselves on the receiving
end of a swift kick.

Shann trailed
behind with the group of two dozen others. Two other ore carts
stood out of the way, beyond the gate, signalling that two
identical parties had already returned. As they passed the
guardhouse, Shann saw a group of four soldiers in iron studded
leather armour crossing the yard. Then two more. Then coming round
the corner of a building, a dark cloaked figure. No, it couldn’t
be.
A Keltar.
What were they doing here?

She continued
with the group of tributes as they walked towards the hut where
they were sequestered. There was a sound from behind her. She
turned to see two more Keltar coming out of the guardhouse,
accompanied by more soldiers. Shann felt a rising sense of panic.
Lyall had assured her that there were only ever a few soldiers on
guard at the compound at any one time.
What was going on?

She caught Leskin’s eye. The old
man looked at her but said nothing. They were herded inside their
hut, and the guard bolted the door from the outside. A rough wooden
construct, it was lined with pallets. Tributes sat or collapsed,
exhausted. There were no windows. The last light of evening was
filtering through a small iron grille set in the door.

The boy, who Shann had learned
was called Roanol, came up and offered her an earthenware cup of
water. “Lock down,” he explained. “They must suspect that
something’s up.”

But how was
that possible, she puzzled? It had to be some sort of co-incidence.
Then a horrible thought struck her.
Lyall
and Alondo–maybe they have been caught?
No, they wouldn’t have revealed everything in that short a
time. And why would there be a need for extra precautions if they
knew the plan had been foiled? Besides, where had all of these
Keltar suddenly sprung from? There was clearly something very odd
going on.

Whatever it was, it was obvious
that the plan Lyall had so carefully formulated was now dead in the
water. There was no way the tributes could stage a break out; it
would be suicide. And with the increased presence, any frontal
assault would similarly be doomed to failure. She had to warn them
somehow. “Roanol, I have to get out of here.”

His eyes widened. “What do you
mean?”

“I have to get out of here. If
Lyall and Alondo go through with the plan, it will be a
disaster.”

Roanol had kind face, despite his
starved appearance. His sandy forelock had a habit of falling over
his eyes in a way that was at once amusing and endearing. In
different circumstances, she would have been thinking of ways to
get to know him better.

He shook his head. “That’s
impossible. We are shut in and there are guards outside the
door.”

Shann bit her lower lip. “I have
to find a way, or they will be dead.”

“Shann, I just don’t
know–”

Leskin walked up to the pair. The
olive skin covering his face was like old leather. He addressed
Shann. “The plan is off,” he informed her.

“What’s going on? What are all
these soldiers and Keltar doing here?” she demanded.

“I have no idea, but it doesn’t
matter. Even assuming we could somehow get out of here, we couldn’t
possibly take on that many guards in the enclosure, let alone
Keltar as well. I’m sorry, Shann.”

“I realise that.” Shann’s hazel
eyes blazed with determination, “but Lyall and Alondo are going to
come charging through the front gate at first light tomorrow. I
have to get word to them somehow.”

Leskin met her gaze firmly. “I
want to help them too, but not if it puts the lives of everyone
here at risk.”

“What if,” Roanol interposed, “we
were to watch for an opening to try and get Shann out? This
emergency, whatever it is, can’t last forever. There might be a way
for her to slip away unnoticed.”

Leskin considered this. “All
right, we’ll try it. But for now, the place is crawling with
Keltar. All we can do is get some rest and see what
happens.”

“But–” Shann began.

“I’m sorry, but that’s the best
we can do,” The old man’s voice was final. He turned around and
walked away. Shann stared after him.

“Don’t blame Leskin.” Roanol’s
fringe fell over his eyes once again. He brushed it back. “He’s
just trying to watch out for us all.”

“I know that.” Shann exhaled.
“But I still need to get away.” Then a thought occurred to her. She
looked up at him and heard herself say, “Come with me.”

Roanol regarded her for a moment.
“You mean, escape?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I am known, Shann. If I
disappeared, it would be noticed. Others would be
interrogated–tortured, to find out how it happened and who had
assisted me. No, Leskin was right about one thing. The fates of all
of us here are linked. If we are to escape, it can only be
together.”

Shann bowed her
head; then looked up into his eyes again. “I don’t know what’s gone
wrong, but I…we
will
get you out of this place.”

He smiled, reminding her strongly
of Lyall once again. “Yes, Shann, I believe that you
will.”

~

That night
Shann tossed and turned as she lay on the hard wooden pallet. Her
uncontrolled imagination explored every possible scenario of what
might happen to Lyall and Alondo. Nearly all of them ended
badly.
I have to find a way out of here,
with or without Leskin’s help.
She went
over in her mind what she had seen of the enclosure. If she had the
flying cloak, she could have leaped over the palisade easily.
However, there
was
still a chance–if the two guards were out of the
way.

She was wide awake when she heard
a loud commotion. Dawn had broken. She rose quietly. Several of the
others were up. She recognised Leskin and Roanol in the half-light.
Roanol peered through the grille in the door, looking to left and
right. “The guards–they’re gone,” he reported. “It looks like some
sort of disturbance at the guardhouse.”

It’s
begun.
She thrust away the anxieties of
the past few hours and started to think. There were no guards in
evidence. This was her chance. She went to the pallet, and started
pulling at the wooden slats. They were old and worn, and it was not
long before one of them came away from its crosspiece. She broke it
off, quickly bundling it up into the thin blanket. Then she
returned to where the knot of people was crowded around the
door.

She moved forward, touching
Roanol lightly on the arm. “Excuse me.”

He moved to let her through and
she placed her bundle down on the floor. She had to stand on tiptoe
to see clearly through the grille. She checked the position of the
sliding bolt on the outside of the door. Then she reached inside
her tunic and brought out a smooth black stone. The others standing
around, registered surprise. She pressed the stone against the wall
to the right of the door and moved it slowly towards the bolt. It
seemed to slide over the surface without making contact. She heard
a sound–iron scraping against iron. She moved the stone back and
towards the bolt again, and then a third time. Finally the bolt was
pushed far enough back and the door cracked open.

She opened the
door another fraction and scanned the yard. It seemed clear. She
picked up her bundle and turned back to see the group of
despairing, half starved people. Leskin was looking at her with a
strange expression.
Pride?
Roanol stood behind him. He looked like a lost
gundir pup. “Stay alive,” she urged. “We will be back for you
all.”

Reluctantly, she closed the door
and bolted it from the outside. She could hear raised voices coming
from the direction of the gate. Two soldiers appeared from the side
of an adjacent building. Shann swiftly moved around to the opposite
side of the hut and pressed herself flat against the wall. The wall
faced east, and Ail-Gan was still low on the western horizon,
placing her in dark shadow. The soldiers seemed preoccupied in
conversation. They walked past without looking in her direction.
Shann allowed herself to breathe once more.

She heard a
shout and the sound of running boots on hard packed sand. She had
to find somewhere to lay low until the ruckus calmed down. The
enclosure consisted of a collection of low, featureless wooden
huts. There were no convenient crates or cubby-holes to provide
cover. She could feel a sense of desperation welling up. Then the
idea hit like a slap in the face.
The ore
carts.