The Children of the White Lions: Volume 02 - Prophecy (81 page)

Okollu’s black lips drew back, the fur on the back of his neck stood on end, and a low, threatening growl reverberated in his throat.

“Mongrel is a derogatory term,” rumbled Broedi softly. “Please do not call him that.”

The growl cut off as Okollu shifted his gaze to Broedi, curiosity shining bright in his eyes.

“Why?” asked Wren.

“Because things will go so much sweeter if you do not,” answered Tobias.

Wren glared at the kur-surus, yet had the grace to remain silent.

Stepping forward, Khin said, “You may dismiss the soldiers. There is no need for them.”

On the opposite side of the group, Commander Aiden stood, staring at Broedi, silently asking with eyes alone whether or not to give the order to stand down. Broedi hesitated.

After a moment, Okollu smiled, his sharp canine teeth poking from his lips, and growled softly, “If you are the hope of my kind, then my sacrifices have been in vain. I am but one kur-surus yet the air reeks of fear.”

He was right. Broedi could smell the soldiers’ sweat.

Looking to Tobias, Broedi asked, “Are you sure about this?”

“I am,” replied the tomble.

Broedi eyed the kur-surus for a moment longer before rumbling, “Commander, you and your men may withdraw.”

The soldier’s questioning gaze shifted to behind Broedi. A moment later, Duchess Aleece spoke.

“Do as he says, Commander.”

Nodding once, the soldier shouted, “Put your blades to sleep and back away!”

The ring of soldiers sheathed their swords—slowly—and began to retreat to the courtyard’s walls. Once they were an acceptable distance away, the partially complete Weave surrounding the new arrivals faded. With a soft pop, the port disappeared as well.

A moment later, Nundle muttered, “Broedi?”

The tomble’s bewildered tone was enough to pull Broedi’s attention away from the kur-surus.

“Yes?”

Nundle was staring around him, his face twisted up in confusion. “The port is gone, but I still sense Strands of Void.” His gaze locked on Tobias and he lifted a hand to point at a leather sack clenched in Tobias’ walking stick hand. “They’re coming from there.”

Eyeing Nundle, Tobias said, “You
are
strong with Void, aren’t you?” Releasing Traveler’s reins, he took the pouch in his free hand and said, “Here, Broedi. We found one.”

With an underhand toss, he lobbed the small sack to Broedi. Lifting a hand, Broedi easily caught the pouch and was immediately struck by how heavy it seemed.

Tobias warned, “I’d highly advise not opening it right now. It’s a thousand times worse if it’s not in the pouch.”

Broedi’s eyes widened a fraction as he realized what he held. Quickly shifting his gaze to Khin, he said, “Your oath? I release you from it. For now.”

The aicenai nodded, his face utterly impassive, and said, “Understood.”

Ignoring the curious stares of those around him, Broedi concentrated on the conversation he had just had in Lady Vivienne’s offices, effectively telling Khin that those who stood here now knew of the Suštinata
.

Khin’s only reaction was a slight crinkling of skin around his eyes.

Broedi wondered if the pouch he held contained the Suštinata of Void.

Khin nodded once.

Broedi glanced at the Borderlander and kur-surus, wondering at the reason behind their presence.

Khin turned to Rhohn and Okollu.

“It is time to share your message.”

Shivering from the cold, the scarred Borderlander glanced to the kur-surus.

“Your turn.”

Okollu shook muzzle and huffed, “It would be better if it came from you, I think.”

Rhohn shrugged, faced the group, and in a clear, crisp voice, said, “Indrida’s prophecy is upon us. The Eternal Anarchist is a saeljul who goes by the name Tandyr. The Borderlands have fallen, the Marshlands are next. Vanson and Everett are in his palm for reasons I still do not understand. Time grows short. The Shadow Manes must rise.”

A surprised murmur drifted through the snowy courtyard.

Hearing a rustle of cloth behind him, Broedi glanced over his shoulder to find Duchess Aleece marching forward. She stopped on Broedi’s right and demanded, “Who gave you that message?” She glanced around the courtyard, eyeing the gathered soldiers, and added, “And answer softer this time.”

Rhohn turned to stare at the kur-surus
.

“He did.”

As one, the group peered at Okollu. Little breath clouds rose from the kur-surus’ muzzle as he stared back at them.

Almost without pause, Duchess Aleece asked, “And who gave it to you?”

The kur-surus growled softly, “Miriel Syncent.”

For a moment, the only sound in the yard was the gentle whistling of the Winter wind. Broedi stared at the kur-surus, his face blank, as he tried to make sense of what he was hearing.

Recovering quicker than them all, Duchess Aleece asked, “Your name is Okollu?”

The kur-surus nodded in silence.

“Then listen to me carefully, Okollu. Tobias and Khin appear to trust you, so—for the time being—I will treat you with the respect and courtesy I would offer any guest. Do not give me reason to change my mind. Am I clear?”

Okollu growled quietly, “Yes.”

“Good,” said the duchess with a decisive nod. “Now, everyone inside, please. Whatever else needs to be said should be done in private. And out of this blasted chill.” Without waiting for a response, she spun around and began to move toward a pair of doors in the walls, her hair streaming behind her in the wind.

Lady Vivienne and Nundle turned to follow almost immediately. Broedi was about to as well, when Jak came closer, advancing to stand beside his brother.

Tobias stared up at Jak and his bandages and asked, “What in the Nine Hells happened to you?”

Brushing aside the question, Jak repeated Nikalys’ earlier query.

“Where’s Kenders?”

“She is with Tiliah in Demetus.”

The Isaac brothers were stunned silent, and rightly so.

Broedi rumbled, “Then you found Zecus’ family?”

Tobias shook his head, saying, “Only her and only because they were carrying that.” He nodded at the leather pouch in Broedi’s hand.

“Hold a moment,” muttered Jak. “Tiliah was—” he glanced at Rhohn and Okollu “—with
them
?”

Rhohn answered, “It is a long, almost impossible tale. One I will be happy to share once I am inside.”

“But she is safe?” asked Nikalys. “Unhurt?”

“When she left this morning, she was fine,” said Tobias with a frown. “And assuming she does nothing to alert the Constables in Demetus, she should remain so.”

Something inside of Broedi twitched. Thonda’s sixth sense.

A worried scowl spread over his face.

The overpowering stench of unwashed filth climbed inside of Kenders’ nose, seemingly determined to take up permanent residence. With each reluctant breath she drew, the grimace on her face deepened. The rotten stench in the marshes was better than this.

A sea of grimy, dirt-streaked faces surrounded her. Families huddled together like clumps of muddy leaves on a creek bank after a flood. Using pine branches, rags, and ripped canvas, some had attempted to erect shelters, but the structures were pitiful looking. Most people simply sat or lay in the open, exposed to nature’s whim, so beaten down by misery that few lifted their gazes as she rode past.

With her lips pressed together and a scowl on her face, Kenders shook her head in disgust. Fate had been overtly cruel to these people. Their homes were gone, their lands invaded, their lives ruined. Three mumbled words slipped from her mouth unbidden.

“This is wrong.”

Sitting tall in Goshen’s saddle, Tiliah glanced over and whispered, “’Wrong’ is much too sweet a word.” Her tone was bitter and harsh, understandably so.

“Where are all of these people going to go?” asked Kenders. She was sure to keep her voice low so only Tiliah could hear her. “What are they going to do?”

With a slow shake of her head, the Borderlander said, “I was hoping you might have an answer.”

At least two thousand people were in this area alone, the third encampment Tiliah and Kenders had visited today and the smallest by far. The marshes surrounding Demetus provided only so many scattered chunks of dry land where people could rest. Strips of well-trodden land meandered between islands of refugees.

“How many camps like this are there?” asked Kenders.

Tiliah shrugged.

“Hard to say. More than when I left, though. Many more.”

Kenders sighed and returned to scanning the crowd, doing her best to find a trio of faces she had never seen. She prayed the familial resemblance of mother and the two younger siblings was as clear as Tiliah’s was to Zecus.

“Have you seen anyone you recognize? Anyone from Drysa?”

“No,” muttered Tiliah. “Nobody.”

Kenders glanced to her left, eyeing Tiliah. Considering everything that had happened to her, the young woman, only a year older than Kenders, was holding up extremely well. After the first bout of tears in the pine grove yesterday, Tiliah pulled herself together and immediately began interrogating Kenders, asking all the questions one would expect. Kenders was honest with Tiliah and shared everything. To her great surprise, Tiliah accepted every word of her tale without challenge.

Tobias and Khin led their combined group of six back to their original camp atop another Marshland hill. There, they waited for Zecus and Boah to return while taking turns exchanging stories. Only then did Kenders understand Tiliah’s easy acceptance of her tale earlier on.

The sun had been absent from the sky for a long time when Boah and Zecus eventually rode into camp. As Zecus moved into the ring of light cast from the campfire, Tiliah leapt from the ground and ran towards his horse. Zecus jumped from his saddle, rushing forward to hug his sister. The pair embraced for a long time, standing to the one side. Everyone—Kenders included—left them alone. Even the mongrel had been exceedingly respectful.

Once they rejoined the group—and after repeated assurances that Okollu was friend, not foe—Zecus, with Boah’s help, shared their day’s experiences in Demetus. The refugee count had tripled since Zecus had left. Great encampments of soldiers dotted the western and northern areas around the city, the gold and blue of the Southern Arms mixing with the green and white of the Reed Men. There were even a few detachments of the Long Coast’s Shore Guard. Forces were amassing, evidently expecting an attack on Demetus.

Following a meager dinner of hard goat cheese and water, the group had set to determining their next step. Khin, who had remained typically silent throughout the day and evening, announced that he and Tobias must return to Storm Island in the morning. Kenders assumed it had something to do with the strange stone of Void, but any attempt to inquire as to the nature of the black gem was met with utter silence.

Rhohn and Okollu were to accompany Tobias and Khin to the enclave in order to share their message and tale. Boah, Tiliah, and Zecus were going to go back to Demetus and continue to search for their families.

Assuming that Khin would ask her to return to the enclave, Kenders was stunned when the aicenai instead asked her what she wanted to do. After only a moment’s hesitation, she announced her intention to remain in the Marshlands and help Zecus. Khin accepted her decision without question, but Tobias and Zecus had spent quite some time trying to talk her out of it. She had not listened to either.

Early this morning, as one group of four left via port for Storm Island, the other four rode north toward Demetus. This evening, Kenders and the others were to return to the same camp to wait for Tobias and directions of what to do next. Kenders expected she might see Jak emerge from the port tonight and attempt to drag her back to Storm Island with him.

Before the group bound for Demetus reached the city’s outskirts, they divided into two pairs—Zecus and Boah in one, Kenders and Tiliah in the other—and rode into the camps. Unfortunately, midday was nearing and Kenders and Tiliah’s search had turned up no one. She hoped the others were having more success.

Kenders sighed and shook her head, fighting back the feeling of hopelessness that was steadily encroaching on her. Finding anyone in this crowd would be nigh impossible.

She was reaching up to rub her tired eyes when her gaze fell on a woman sitting some hundred paces away. She was all alone, her clothes torn, impossibly dirty, and draped over a frame almost as thin as Khin’s. Her stare was in Kenders’ direction, but the distant, blank look to her eyes told Kenders she was not truly seeing anything. A flicker of hope danced inside Kenders’ chest. The woman’s face was drawn, but her features were undeniably familiar.

Kenders pulled Smoke’s reins, halting the horse. She glanced over at Tiliah and found the young woman riding on, looking in the opposite direction. Before saying anything, Kenders looked back to the woman on the ground and stared hard, wanting to ensure the resemblance was close enough to warrant saying anything. She did not want to get Tiliah’s hopes up.

The fact that the woman sat alone among the muck and weeds was not a good sign. If this were Debrah Alsher, Jerem and Jezra should be with her. Nevertheless, the longer Kenders stared, the more convinced she became. After offering a silent prayer to Ceruna, the Goddess of Hope, she took a deep breath, exhaled, and stared at Tiliah’s back.

“Tiliah?”

By now, Goshen was a few horse-strides ahead of Smoke. Pulling on the horse’s reins to stop her mount, Tiliah looked back. Kenders lifted an arm and pointed in the direction of the woman.

“Might that be…?”

Tiliah turned her head, her gaze following Kenders’ outstretched arm, flying over dozens of refugees’ heads, and settling on the disheveled woman. Her eyes widening, she leapt from Goshen’s saddle.

“Mother!”

Kenders’ shoulders slumped as she breathed a sigh of relief.

Tiliah dashed through the crowd, dodging the people sprawled on the ground. She repeatedly called out for her mother, but Debrah did not seem to hear her. The empty expression on her face never changed.