Souls of Aredyrah 3 - The Taking of the Dawn (41 page)

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Authors: Tracy A. Akers

Tags: #teen, #sword sorcery, #young adult, #epic, #slavery, #labeling, #superstition, #coming of age, #fantasy, #royalty, #romance, #quest, #adventure, #social conflict, #mysticism, #prejudice, #prophecy, #mythology

BOOK: Souls of Aredyrah 3 - The Taking of the Dawn
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A rumble more powerful than that of the
tumbling rocks suddenly sounded in the corridor. It rose from the
ground and seemed to vibrate through the range. The earth shook as
more rocks were dislodged from their roosts, raining down the
slopes like monstrous hail. Reiv felt his legs go out from under
him. He grabbed for the nearest boulder, but it plummeted from his
reach, sliding down the slope beneath him at increasing speed. More
rocks crashed and bounced around him, showering down from above. He
threw his body beneath a shallow overhang, praying it would not
collapse from the weight pounding off of it. He heard a scream and
saw the body of one of his men tumble like a rag doll, only to be
buried beneath a growing pile of rubble. Another man cried out, but
Reiv could barely hear his voice over the explosion of granite
around him.

The rumbling finally stopped and the
landslide stilled. A slow hiss, like that of a viper, filled the
air. Putrid steam shot from geysers between the rocks, one close
enough for Reiv to feel its scalding mist upon his arm. He
scrambled from his hiding place and made his way as best he could
through the dust and debris. The rocks beneath his feet were
unstable and precarious, and he feared he might vanish into a
crevice, swallowed forever by darkness, or worse still, meet a
plume of steam, boiled alive where he stood.

He felt something trickle down his forehead
and into his eye. He reached up a hand and felt a sting of pain.
Looking down at his fingers, he realized they were dark and sticky
with blood. He clambered over the rocks, panting with urgency and
desperation. There was no way the Guard would follow them into the
passage, would they? He glanced over his shoulder, but behind him
was nothing but darkness and an occasional glow from rising miasmas
of gas.

Reiv tried not to breathe the fumes, but he
could not stop his lungs from gulping for air.
Slowly
, he
told himself.
Just breathe slowly
.

He turned in the direction the caravan had
gone, searching for a sign of light, any sort of movement. Had the
refugees made it through before the landslide? he wondered. Or had
they perished like the men who had stayed behind to help him? The
thought of Brina and Jensa and Kerrik, of all those he loved buried
beneath a pile of rocks sent his emotions spinning. He would have
screamed had he not feared the echo of his voice would bring down
another barrage of rocks upon him.

Reiv began to feel dizzy, disoriented, as if
his mind was cloaked in a fog. He stumbled and fell in the
darkness, unable to rise to his feet. He lifted an arm and forced
his palm forward, then shifted a knee and planted it upon the next
rock. But it was no use; he was drained of strength. He crumpled
onto the cold granite, unable to go further.

“Reiv!”

The voice jarred him to his senses. “Here,”
he mumbled.

“There! He is there!” a commotion of voices
said.

The hardness of the rock disappeared from
beneath him. Reiv felt his body lift as if floating on a cloud.

“Get him out quickly—he needs fresh air!” a
familiar voice said. “Reiv! Can you hear me? Talk to me. Open your
eyes.”

Open my eyes?

“Look at me Reiv!”

Reiv forced open his eyelids. Jensa was
bending over him, her shadowy face inches from his. “You’re with me
now,” she said. “You’re safe.”

Safe?
Reiv coughed violently. “With
you, Jensa, no man is safe.”

She grinned. “Then you’re surely doomed, for
after this, I’ll not be letting you from my sight.”

 

Back to ToC

Chapter 32: Peaks and
Valleys

R
eiv blinked open
his eyes, trying to make sense of his surroundings. He seemed to
recall being lost in darkness, but now all he could see was
sunlight. He sat up, realizing a cape of some sort had been draped
across him.

“Ah, you are up,” Jensa said. She handed him
a pouch of rich, red berries and ordered him to eat. “How are you
feeling?”

“Fuzzy, but better.” Reiv reached into the
pouch and grabbed a handful of fruit. “Where did you find these?”
he asked between chews.

“There was an entire cliff wall of them,” she
said. “But the vine is pretty well picked clean now.”

“Let us pray they are not poisonous,” he
said, taking another handful.

“Well if they are, we shall all die happy,”
she said. “Come let me show you.”

Jensa took his arm and helped him up. The air
was cool, but beginning to warm, and after a few cleansing coughs,
Reiv’s lungs began to feel refreshed and his body invigorated. As
she led him through the encampment, he realized there did not seem
to be as many people as usual.

“Where is everyone?” Reiv asked with alarm.
“They did not—”

“No,” Jensa assured him. “We only lost a few
men.”

Reiv slowed his steps. “Those from the back
of the line,” he said.

“Yes.”

Reiv turned his eyes to the ground. If only
he had not asked those men to help him; if only he had allowed them
to continue on with their families. The landslide would have
happened with or without them; stopping had been a waste of time,
and life.

“It was not your fault,” Jensa said as if
reading his mind. “It is said they remained behind to help you
barricade the trail.”

“Yes.”

“You felt it had to be done, did you
not?”

Reiv nodded.

“And they willingly stayed to do it. Their
families feel their loss, of course, but they are proud of
them.”

“Those men should be honored as heroes,” Reiv
said.

“And they will be. When we get home.” She
smiled and took his hand.

They walked up a path until at last they
reached a scenic overview. As they stopped, the sight before them
snatched Reiv’s breath. As far as he could see, a panoramic
landscape stretched, so beautiful that even the After World could
not hope to compete with it. It was a valley, draped in patterns of
lavender and green and gold, encircled by a ring of burgundy
mountains tipped in white. Throughout it, blue streams
criss-crossed like ribbons woven through shimmering tapestries of
grass. At the base of the mountains, deep green forests could be
seen, and dotting the meadows and marshes were elk and deer and
other forms of wildlife.

Jensa squeezed his hand. “Oonayei,” she
said.

People mingled about in silent awe; others
sat on the ground and rocky perches, staring out at the scenery,
their eyes filled with longing. Many noticed that Reiv was now
amongst them and stepped toward him and thanked him. He smiled in
response, but felt unsettled somehow. They had reached their
destination, but a nagging feeling in the back of his mind left him
uneasy.

“Where are Brina and Torin and the others?”
he asked.

Jensa glanced around. “There,” she said,
pointing through the crowd toward a jutting overhang across the
way.

Jensa and Reiv wound in that direction.
Kerrik bounded toward them. “We’re there, Reiv! We’re there, we’re
there!” he proclaimed.

“So we are, sprite.” Reiv smiled. “Where are
Nely and Gem?”

“Climbing on the rocks,” Kerrik said.

“Well tell them to be careful,” Reiv said.
“Better yet, tell them to get down.”

Kerrik scowled. “You’re no fun.”

“Well, it won’t be fun if the girls fall and
crack their skulls,” Jensa scolded. “Now run along and do as Reiv
says.”

Kerrik sighed loudly, then turned and headed
off.

Jensa and Reiv stepped beside the others.
Torin had his arm around Cora’s waist. His other arm was still in a
sling, and his wounded shoulder was somewhat slumped, but otherwise
he seemed in little pain; in fact he looked better than Reiv had
seen him in weeks. Brina was standing at Gair’s side. His arm was
wrapped around her, but Reiv soon realized its purpose was for
physical support, not romantic inclinations.

“Brina,” Reiv said at her back.

She turned to face him, and it was then that
he saw how gray she looked. Dark shadows encircled her eyes, and
sweat glistened on her brow.

“You are ill!” Reiv said with alarm.

“Just tired,” she responded weakly.

Reiv caught a glimpse of Gair’s worried
expression. Clearly the blacksmith knew Brina was more than just
tired, but he dared not say it in front of Brina. He had probably
learned, as all men eventually did, that she was not the sort of
woman to argue with.

“Well, we obviously do not have far to
travel,” Reiv said. “And with little to pack, there is no sense in
lingering. The sooner we are in the valley, the sooner you can
rest.”

The others agreed and they turned to walk
back toward the make-do encampment. But before they had taken more
than a few steps, Brina collapsed. Gair caught her in his arms and
lowered her to the ground. Reiv knelt beside her and felt her
forehead. “She is burning up!” he cried.

“It’s the fever,” Cora said gently. “We
suspected it two days ago, but she insisted you not be told.”

“Not be told!” Reiv leapt to his feet. “Why
not?”

“She did not want you to slow the caravan
down on her account,” Torin said.

“That should have been my decision, not
hers!”

“Reiv, if you had stopped the caravan every
time someone grew ill, we would still be in Meirla.”

“But—” Reiv sputtered. “She is not just
someone!”

“Think what you are saying,” Jensa said. “You
cannot risk the lives of hundreds for the life of one. Brina would
not want you to do that, and you wouldn’t want to do it
either.”

Reiv shook his head. “I know, but—”

“But nothing. We would have been caught by
the Guard had we lingered. Brina’s silence is what probably saved
us.”

Reiv felt a great lump in his throat. “Can
you carry her, Gair?”

“Course I can,” Gair said, and reached down
and swooped her up.

“Cora, gather the children,” Reiv said. “We
leave for Oonayei. Now.”

* * * *

It took half the day to reach the valley
floor. By the time they arrived, the afternoon temperatures had
warmed considerably. The first order of business was to select the
best location to set up the encampment. The Shell Seekers wanted to
settle next to the streams, as being near water was their nature.
But after realizing the risks for potential flooding, and the fact
that the open terrain would make for easier viewing by predators,
it was decided that the best place to settle would be at the edge
of the forest. The materials needed for constructing huts,
temporary ones at first, more permanent ones later, were more
readily available from the resources of the woods, but the reeds
and grasses of the marshes and meadows could be also utilized.

Within days, small huts framed with saplings
and reeds and covered with leafy branches had been constructed.
Built according to the size and needs of each individual family,
most structures could accommodate four or more persons, but height
and width were kept to a minimum in order to maintain warmth
inside. All cooking was done outside over campfires, most of which
were communal. The Jecta men immediately took to the forests and
marshes to hunt, and in no time at all the Shell Seekers had
harvested a great many fish from the streams. The waters were
nothing like those of the sea, they were shallow and contained no
salt, but the biggest adjustment was to their icy temperatures. The
Shell Seekers quickly learned that spears and nets were more
reasonable, and less chilling, methods for fishing.

Quantities of game were brought back daily
from the hunts, the forests and meadows were well-stocked with
wildlife, and their carcasses were stripped, the meat and hides
hung to dry. Most of the refugees had arrived with only the
clothing on their backs and knew that the cooler temperatures,
something they were not used to, were only going to get worse.
Winter was nearly upon them, and though the changes in seasons were
barely noticeable on the Tearian side of the mountains, Reiv
assured them it would be far different here. He had not forgotten
what his cousin had told him, nor how Dayn and Alicine had been
dressed when he had first met them. Every limb on their bodies had
been covered in thick clothing; even their collars had reached all
the way to their chins. On top of that, Dayn had worn a coat, so
heavy and cumbersome that at the time Reiv could not imagine the
purpose of such a thing. But now he was beginning to more fully
appreciate Kiradyn fashion, and regretted he did not have a coat
like Dayn’s.

Brina was moved into a hut as soon as Gair
and Reiv, with some assistance from Torin, were able to construct
one. Reiv had insisted they build two: one for Brina and himself,
the other for the rest of the family. Though he knew everyone had
already been exposed to the fever, he felt more comfortable having
her quarantined, especially from the children. He had stayed with
her day and night ever since they had arrived five days prior, and
though she was not getting worse, she was not getting better
either.

On the sixth day, having had little sleep,
Reiv felt the overwhelming need for fresh air and sunshine. Brina
had slept most of the morning, and for now showed little sign of
waking. He rose and stepped through the low portal of the hut,
disappointed to see a sky gray with clouds. It was only mid-day,
and the breeze felt warm against his skin, but that did not mean
colder air was not being ushered in behind it. He eyed the pelts
hanging nearby. They were not yet cured, but if the weather grew
bleak, there would be little choice but to wear them.

Jensa approached. “How is Brina today?” she
asked.

“The same,” he replied.

“I brought her some broth,” she said, nodding
to a gourd she was holding.

“I will take it to her,” Reiv said.

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