The Hordes of Chanakra (Knights of Aerioch) (9 page)

“But...bending? My mother survived because she didn’t bend.”

Kreg leaned forward in interest, “Your mother?”

“She was married when she was very young,” Kaila said. “Raiders came across the border of Zantor on her very wedding day.  Her husband, the Duke of Zantor, rode that evening, before even he could bed his new wife.”

When the silence had dragged for several seconds, Kreg said, “and then?”

“The Duke’s army was ambushed.  Archers on horseback, much like your nomad friends, attacked from the trees.  The Duke fell in the first attack.  The Duke’s forces fled.  The raiders harried them all the way back to the castle.” Kaila’s pony started at some falling rocks and she reached down with one hand to soothe it. “I know not what would have happened had my mother not been there.  She spoke defiance to a council frantic with fear.  And people rallied to her voice.  She was...small.  And yet her courage and will spoke to people’s hearts.  Or so I am told.  And when the remaining forces sallied against the raiders, my mother rode with them.  She was barely able to sit a horse or lift a sword, but she rode facing death alongside those she sent into battle.”

They rode in silence for a bit then Kaila said, “They were unable to break the siege themselves.  The forces remaining to Zantor were too weak, the raiders too strong.  Still, each time they sallied, my mother rode with them.  And each time they returned to the castle, she rode back.  In time, an army came from Norveth, the capital of Aerioch.  Shillond rode with them.  The raiders had no wizards of their own and so Shillond was able to drive them away.”

“And your mother remained as Duchess?” Kreg asked.

“Things are not so simple,” Kaila said. “There was no heir to the duchy.  Zantor had always been first in battle and so many of its men died young, courageously, to be sure, but leaving no heirs.  Indeed, my mother’s father had perhaps the best claim to the Duchy but no one is certain.  In the end, it was Shillond who decided the matter.  He was smitten, you see, with my mother and prevailed on the King to rule that my mother would hold the Duchy until she produced an heir of her body to become the new Duke.”

Kaila laughed. “How disappointed the nobles at court were that my mother soon wed Shillond and, one year later, their firstborn child was me.  My mother had continued to take up arms and received training with the best arms masters in Aerioch.  Soon after I was born, she left me with a nurse and rode with a peace envoy to Shendar.  One of the Barons of Shendar struck the envoy most treacherously.  A witch in the service of the Baron captured Shillond and all thought him dead.  The rest the Baron and his men slew, including my mother.  And so there was no heir of her body but me.  The King, nevertheless, held to his sworn word and I became Duke and a peer of Aerioch.”

From a bit ahead of them, Shillond called, “Kreg, Kaila, we’ll be camping here.”

“There are still hours of daylight left,” Kaila called back.

“The trail is more difficult up here.  There’s no guarantee we’ll find a suitable spot before nightfall.”

“As you will, father.”

Before Kaila could ride away from Kreg, he reached out a hand and touched her arm. “Thank you for telling me that.”

Kaila smiled, and then her face grew stern. “It is as well that we stop early,” she said. “Once camp is set we will continue your training.”

#

Six days after they had topped the First Stair the stream ended.  Another cliff loomed before them.  Water seeped as a spring from a thick layer of sandstone between two darker layers of shale.  The cliff, along with the valley walls of the stream, formed a narrow box canyon.  One corner of the canyon angled upward steeply.  To Kreg's untutored eye, it nevertheless looked like the ponies could go up that corner.  The path would take them to the top of the wall on that side and around the east edge of the cliff that faced them.

The canyon had been too steep on either side for Faron to go on his hunting expeditions for several days.  He pointed to where the Kreg had been looking. "Harrow's Perch."

"We camp here tonight," Shillond said. He looked at Kaila. "And we rest.  It will be a difficult climb tomorrow to get the ponies past the Perch.  I would rather release them here to let them make their own ways back down the stream, but we shall need them once we reach Shendar."

Kaila nodded. "Tonight we rest."

#

Kreg had the second watch that night.  Although the sky was clear above where they camped, Kreg could see thunderclouds looming to the North.  They did not seem to be approaching, almost as if some force held them back.

The scant brush they had found had provided a small fire to warm the jerked meat and bread that had been their evening meal and a small store remained to do the same for their morning meal.  The herb drink that Shillond had prepared had long since cooled in its pot and gave Kreg no warmth as he sipped it.  He sat with his back against a smooth boulder that still retained some of the heat it had absorbed during the day.  His scabbarded sword lay on the ground at his side.

Both moons had dropped below the horizon leaving only starlight to illuminate the valley.  No wind stirred the scattered growth.  The only sound was the gurgling of the stream and the occasional soft movement of sleeping humans and ponies.

Something clicked, as of stone striking stone.

Kreg's breath caught.  He licked suddenly dry lips with a tongue almost as dry.  He squinted as he peered into the darkness, his chill forgotten.

Kreg drew his legs underneath him and shifted his weight forward until he balanced in a low crouch.  With his left hand he grasped his sword.  He rose to his feet.

A glint of light caught his eye in the distance, so faint he almost thought he imagined it.  He stepped forward, clear of the boulder, his right hand coming around almost of its own accord to grasp his sword hilt.

He suppressed a shout as he whirled at a sound behind him.

"It is I," Kaila said softly. "What do you see?"

"I don't know," Kreg said, just as softly, "maybe nothing."

"I think not," Kaila said. "I think we are followed and I think it is someone that means you harm."

"Me?"

"Aye," Kaila said. "Twice in Trevanta I espied someone who sought to lay hands on you by stealth.  Both times, they fled when they saw my gaze upon them.  I had thought to speak to Shillond but..." She sighed. "Much has happened and the thought fled my mind."

"What should we do?"

Kaila raised her sword before her. "Rouse Shillond.  Rouse Faron.  Let us show yon skulker the error of his ways."

Once roused, Shillond cast a spell that illuminated the valley almost daylight bright but a search found nothing but a small leather pouch, empty save for a few crumbs of dry bread.  The pouch at least proved that someone had been there even if he had long since fled.

"I wish you had spoken to me before, Kaila," Shillond said.

"Aye, father," Kaila said, "I allow that I have erred greatly.  Someone there is who follows in our footsteps and someone there is who seeks harm to Kreg.  I like it not."

"Wait a minute," Kreg said. "Why would anyone be after me?  I haven't been here long enough to make any enemies."

"Like as not," Faron said, "the villain was a bandit. He was seeking to take our measure.  When seeing that we were not simple travelers, he fled from us."

"I think not," Kaila said. "What of the events in Trevanta?"

"What of them?" Faron said. "Who could have been following you all this way, through the siege of Elam?  Through our stay with the Three Mountains clan?  Now into the mountains?  No.  It is naught but coincidence."

"In any case," Shillond said before Kaila could argue, "we will need to be doubly vigilant after this."

"Agreed," Kaila said.

Faron nodded.

Kreg rubbed at his temples.  One effect of the search, the bright light at nighttime, and the worry and suspense was to bring back his headache. "I wonder something," Kreg said. "We've been following this stream for days.  If anyone were following us, it would be pretty obvious where we're going."

"I like not the direction of your thought," Kaila said, "but say on."

"Well, suppose somebody got ahead of us," Kreg said, "and suppose they were waiting to ambush us up ahead."

They all turned to look at the perch.  Faron had described it as a ledge narrower than the one they had climbed before, running nearly a mile along the cliff face.  They would be visible and vulnerable the entire length of the ledge.

"It is to be thought on," Kaila said softly.

#

In the morning, they set off up the steep corner of the box canyon.  Seeping water from the sandstone dampened the rocks but the leather soles of Kreg's boots gripped without slipping.  The pony Kreg led followed willingly.

Faron led the group, followed by Shillond.  Kreg came next and Kaila followed at the rear, leading a string of three ponies.

Faron stopped at the top of the canyon wall and shielded his eyes against the sun as he peered north.

"Descend!" he called. "There has been a rockslide.  We cannot be going this way."

There was not enough room to turn the ponies on the trail so backing them down it took nearly half the day.

"This pass is closed," Faron said when they reached the bottom.

"So now what do we do?" Kreg said.

"We must be returning to the desert and attempt to pass the army besieging Elam," Faron said. "There is no other way."

"We will be weeks about that," Kaila said. "An' we reach Aerioch at all, the war will like be over.  Yon Perch is such a small thing.  Is there no other way beyond it?"

"Perhaps," Faron said, "but we'd be weeks finding it."

"There is a way," Shillond's voice was quiet, almost a whisper. "We need not use the pass at all."

Kaila's face went white. "The spell of the winds?"

"Aye." Shillond nodded.

"Shillond, no." Kaila shook her head. "We will find another way."

"Daughter--" Shillond laid a hand on her shoulder. "--there is no other way.  All other routes will take too long.  Haste is essential."

"The king would rather have you late than dead," Kaila snapped.

"I have survived it before." The barest hint of a smile tugged at his lips.

"'Tis no proof that you will again." Kaila vaulted to her feet and turned away from him.

"No." Shillond stood as well. "But you know that we have no choice."

"What is this 'spell of the winds'?" Kreg whispered to Faron.

"It is being a powerful magic," Faron whispered back. "A wizard may travel at vast speeds through the air.  He may be taking others with him.  Kaila's fear is justified. The spell is calling up a great storm.  Ones that are traveling with the wizard are protected.  The wizard is not."

"Aye, Kreg." Shillond interrupted their whispered conversation. "The spell calls up demons that have power over air and over the winds.  The demons are compelled to serve.  They resent the call and cannot wholly be restrained."

Kreg gulped.  Demons? "You're sure there's no other way?"

Shillond sighed. "If we were near a place of power, perhaps, but we are not." He swept his hand in a gesture that took in the entire mountain range. "Once these mountains and the desert were a place of power, a great place of power, but their energy has long since faded."

He took a seat next to the fire. "I will begin.  Stay close.  I will need some hours before the effects of the spell begin, but do not wander off."

With that Shillond began to chant in a soft voice.  Kreg did not know the language; it was full of gutturals and sibilants and sounded evil in Kreg's ears.  Kreg turned to the fire and was startled to see the flames dancing in time to Shillond's chant.

Time dragged.  All Kreg could do was wait.  He tried mental games to keep himself occupied, but that did not work.  He could feel the tension in Kaila and Faron and caught it himself.  Finally, Kreg began to run an oilstone over the edge of his sword, letting the motion sooth his nerves.  He met with only partial success.

The sun was sinking toward the western horizon when the rising winds drew Kreg's attention.

"What?" He glanced around.  A furious windstorm surrounded them, yet within about ten paces of Shillond the air remained calm.  Kaila had sat and was watching Shillond intently.

"Be ready," Shillond called over the rising winds. "Demons of air!  I command you in the name of Baaltor, the lord of all your kind, to carry us safely to Norveth."

The roar of the wind rose to a deafening shriek.  Kreg felt himself lifted, and then hurled, through the air.  He shut his eyes as the wind drove into his face.  The wind-blown sand scoured his skin painfully.

The roar and motion continued for an unmeasured eternity.  Kreg was aware of pain and noise and difficulty breathing.  He choked as he inhaled sand as well as air.

Several eternities passed.  Kreg felt himself rolling across a surface.  He opened his eyes to a confusing, whirling blur of green and brown and blue.  With each bruising bump, he felt certain he would finally come to a stop, but he kept rolling.  His vision blurred and sparkled as his head struck a rock a glancing blow and he closed his eyes again.