Tribe of the Snow Tiger (Legends of Windemere Book 10) (21 page)

“This is going too far, Arthuru,” Trinity growls, struggling to remain calm. She can sense her people’s attention on her and dispels the ball of lightning she has unwittingly conjured in her palm. “You can threaten me and tell me to fight Nyx to the death. That is fine since you are angry at me, but my people don’t stand a chance against her if I fall. Stop punishing them for things they have no control over or had any involvement in. My people did nothing to Stephen, so allow them to return to their families. You can even leave my body on that battlefield for scavengers or feed it to your demons. Please don’t punish those who are loyal to me for something that I’ve done.”

“I need to make sure you and your people are at their peak,” the Baron callously replies as he watches the last of the soldiers enter the portal. With a snap of his fingers, the demons go after the remaining chaos elves to whip them back to work. “Perhaps I am being too harsh. To put your mind at ease, the ones who stayed behind will be safe whether you live or die. I will only harm them if you return in failure or try to hide in exile.”

“What if I’m captured?”

“Then continue to fight or slit your own throat.”

“I would need time to escape if that’s the situation.”

“Very well, your highness. I will leave myself flexible depending on the circumstances.”

“Thank you for the small favor.”

Moving away from the Baron, Trinity walks down the hill to where Sebave is patiently waiting. The priestess can see the anger and stress on her Queen’s face, but only bows her head in respect. She touches her leader’s belly to check on the child and smiles at the strong kick that moves her hand. With a final glance at the stone-faced warlord, the two chaos elves walk through the portal and disappear from Shayd. An ear-wrenching tearing sound causes every living thing to writhe in pain until the vortex closes.

“Good luck, your highness,” the Baron whispers as he catches the small, purple mote of magic. He swallows the tiny speck like it is a seed and lets a fraction of his senses drift toward Stonehelm. “I will be watching very carefully.”

9

Nyx rubs at her eyes and takes another drink from her decanter, the sweet wine no longer registering on her tongue. She leans back in the wooden chair and glances at the lines of bookshelves that make up the simple library. Each row is composed of three shelving units that are no higher than seven feet, only a few having been completely filled. The collection is impressive considering Stonehelm is far away from the Serabian border and the regional tomes are entirely about the tribe’s history. Yet, Nyx finds this one aggravatingly small and easy to navigate when compared to the library of Rainbow Tower. Her mood has steadily plunged into darkness since after two days of reading, she has found little information on Aintaranurh. As she scans the room, the elderly librarian meets the channeler’s gaze and sighs as if expecting another request for a book that he does not believe exists. Seeing the old man’s reaction, Nyx turns away and sets her groggy attention on the city below.

The midmorning sun is directly ahead, which forces her to cover her eyes in a layer of protective magic. A class of excited students are with their exhausted teacher at the far end of the balcony, two of the children having just finished brawling over chalk. All of the youngsters repeatedly peek at Nyx and whisper about her until they are rapped on the head with a long, wooden ruler. She ignores the attention and focuses on the shifting crowd surrounding the nearby courthouse. Being so high above the city, the scene reminds her of a colony of ants swarming around a dying beetle. Wanting to think happier thoughts, Nyx searches the cliffs for signs of the snow tiger cubs. She smiles when she sees them trying to pounce on their new mother’s flicking tail, the older predator gnawing on the remains of a caribou.

“Have you uncovered anything else about Aintaranurh?” Cyrus asks as he joins the yawning half-elf. The barbarian opens a small book and skims the pages until he reaches a section that interests him. “I had no idea our tribe had poetry. This one is all about battles and weapons, but I find the form rather intriguing. Timoran and I dabbled in verse when we were younger. He dropped it to focus more on philosophy. I continued to indulge my curiosity. Still, it never occurred to me that the library would have books of this stuff. At least beyond the romantic ones I’ve found hidden on the bottom shelves. Did you know rhyming isn’t necessary?”

“I was more into songs than poetry, but they’re similar,” Nyx admits, tapping her finger on the book in front of her. She takes another sip of her drink and swings her bare feet onto the warm railing. “Thank you for checking on me and helping when I need it. All I’ve found are a few notes about defenses, but nothing definite. Fortunatos and bells are mentioned a few times, so I think those are the guardian and the main challenge respectively. It still seems very lacking and that worries me. Almost as if the temple is open, but it’s never been explored. There’s nothing on what your people use Aintaranurh for, which could have given me a clue. I think Timoran mentioned it once, but I don’t remember. Probably the drink giving me issues. Earlier, I forgot Luke’s last name when we had breakfast.”

“There is a way to discover the importance of Aintaranurh,” Cyrus says with a knowing grin. Closing the small book, the black-haired man leans forward and taps his head. “You could politely ask a barbarian. Everyone knows why the Hollowed Hill is important. Our leaders go there to prove they are worthy to be the Snow Tiger King or Queen. Ever since the tribe settled here, anyone who wishes to claim an empty throne must travel to Aintaranurh. Once there, the person walks through the front door and must defeat whatever challenge awaits them. Some never return while others come back in defeat. Those that claim a jade crown are made our new ruler. It’s as simple as that.”

Nyx rubs her amethyst necklace as she thinks back to the information she has absorbed over the last two days. Reaching down to the pile at her feet, she chooses a thin book that has the image of a crown on the cover. Snapping her fingers, she grabs a small, fat collection of pages that have information about the local stones. Using a minor spell from her apprentice days, Nyx tries to look through both books at the same time before giving up and pushing them away. Her eyes are about to cross before she rapidly blinks them back into focusing on a single object instead of two. Feeling defeated, the channeler leans back to stare at the ceiling and tries her best to clear her head of several conflicting thoughts.

“I was hoping to find a hint on the crowns since every ruler has had a unique design, but they’re always made of the same material,” Nyx explains while closing her eyes. With nothing distracting her, she finds that she has an easier time visualizing the information. “All I proved is that the jade came from Aintaranurh and it’s a type that isn’t found anywhere else, which I’m sure you already know. Maybe the trial your rulers go through is only on the first floor of the temple, so the real dangers are unknown. It would be strange for the Snow Tiger Kings and Queens to go through the same challenges as a champion. That would either ruin the test for us or open the lower levels to our enemies. I feel so useless here.”

“Well you’re banned from the courthouse and you can’t do much to help Luke with his hunting. Perhaps you should take this time to relax,” Cyrus suggests while looking through the crown book. He reaches the end and scratches his head, but shrugs instead of mentioning what has given him pause. “It might not put you at ease, but I wouldn’t worry about the dangers of this temple. You told me that you’ve already defeated three of them and you had previous information for only one of those. The other two were tackled in ignorance and all of you made it out alive. Have some faith in Timoran too. He might not use it often, but his brain is much quicker than you’d think. Although it might take a few hard knocks to get it focused.”

“I know Timoran is smart and wise,” the channeler replies, standing to stretch her legs and lower back. Hopping on her toes, the young woman fights to overcome a mild case of pins and needles in her feet. “I want to feel like I’m doing something. Dariana told me that yesterday didn’t go well. She questioned a few witnesses who had similar answers, which she was able to bring a little doubt into. Then King Edric crushed her because everyone sees him as the only true witness and he never faltered with his responses. The reenactment is today and then I don’t know what Dariana is going to do.”

Cyrus glances over his shoulder to see if the small class is still there and is relieved to see that they have moved to another room. “I’m saying this as someone who respects the King and is loyal to Timoran. In order to win against a smart and confident opponent, you need to make them doubt themselves. Forget about convincing the jury that Edric is lying. If you make him feel unsure of his own answers or get him to be openly defensive then you’ll whittle away his influence. Dariana does understand this, but I think she’s depended on her mental powers for too long. She doesn’t realize that she needs to strike with words that everyone can hear. Am I making any sense?”

“Sort of. We need to get Edric to stumble.”

“Yes and it might be easier than you think.”

“What do you mean?”

“Said too much already, so I’m going to put this book back.”

Humming his favorite battle hymn, the barbarian knocks over the thin book of crowns as he returns to the shelves. Nyx leans against the railing as she opens the book to King Edric’s page, but she does not see anything out of the ordinary. His jade circlet is similar to others with only a few cosmetic differences between each one. It takes her several minutes of browsing through the book to realize that there is something strange about his crown. She rapidly flips through the tome a few times to make sure her eyes are not playing tricks on her. By the time Cyrus wanders back to the table with a new book of poetry to memorize, Nyx is practically vibrating with excitement.

“The crowns are the same,” she whispers, not wanting to draw any attention to them. She points at the crowns of Edric and Melich, the simple circlets sitting side by side. “I didn’t realize this because I was only focusing on clues to Aintaranurh. Every ruler of the Snow Tiger Tribe has received a piece of jade from the temple and they turned it into a personalized crown. There has never been a copy because there’s always a slight difference. In fact, I think former rulers studied this book to make sure they didn’t make a duplicate. Since there are signatures, I assume they’re the ones who draw and insert their page into the book. With these two at the end, people will see differences that aren’t there because that is what they expect. I have a very difficult question, Cyrus. Where are the former rulers buried?”

The heavily tanned barbarian becomes a little pale at the question, surprised by the insinuation that the channeler is making. “I never considered what you’re thinking, so I’m rather uncomfortable. To think a wise man like Edric did something so dishonest is difficult. To answer your question, our fallen rulers are buried in the hills around Aintaranurh. Please tell me you aren’t implying that Edric stole Melich’s crown from his grave. I merely wanted to direct you to this and use it to rattle him on the stand.”

“What did you think he did?” Nyx asks, putting a comforting hand on the man’s wrist. She smiles at the sweating barbarian and reaches up to pat him on the cheek. “I’m sorry to do this to you. I hope I’m wrong, but this is a strong possibility. Tell me what you think happened and maybe that will ring truer.”

“It won’t because your idea makes too much sense,” Cyrus replies as he slumps into a chair and stares into the distance. The sight of a large bird drifting into a thick gathering of clouds brings a faint smile to his face. “I thought Edric merely copied the crown after getting his piece at Aintaranurh. The obvious reason he would do that is because we were falling into disarray after the battle and he didn’t have time to design anything new. Bringing this up in public would imply that he has no original thoughts, so it could be insinuated that his testimony was copied from someone else. With the addition of doubt and his damaged reputation as a witness, one can assume that he added his own twist to it like the others.”

“Makes sense and I hope you’re right.”

“I’ve a feeling I’m not.”

“This would also imply that he never went to Aintaranurh.”

“And that he is not a true King.”

Nyx puts her extra bottle of mead on the table and slides it to Cyrus before going in search of the librarian. She glances back at her companion to see how he is taking the revelation, a pain in her chest making her stop. The honorable barbarian is trying to help his childhood friend, but now he finds himself uncovering the dark secret of his respected leader. Nyx cannot stop herself from feeling sorry for Cyrus and considers leaving this new information in the shadows. She sees him abruptly sit up and stare over the railing, his keen ears picking up the chants of those who want Timoran to be executed immediately.

“That man is conflicted and I cannot blame him,” the librarian says as he walks around the corner of a shelving unit. With a toothless grin, the bearded elder rubs his ears to answer Nyx’s silent question. “These work just fine, Near God. In fact, they’re better than most. Now Cyrus wants to save his battle brother, but it pits him against his king and teacher. Timoran is in the same boat. Those two always had more honor and loyalty than brains if you ask me. I guess you want the list of those who have traveled to Aintaranurh. That way you’ll see if Edric is on there or not.”

“I didn’t know there was a list,” Nyx replies as she cautiously watches the librarian. She relaxes when the man hands her a battered scroll tied with green ribbon. “Thanks, but I’m sure Edric is on there. Otherwise, you would have known something was wrong. Since you’re giving this to me, I can assume you’re not an agent of his.”

“True, but that scroll mentions everyone who went there. Not just the person who goes inside to face the challenge,” the elder explains while he unties the ribbon. The fabric is warm to his touch and he can feel a tickling along his fingertips, forcing him to rubs his hands. “No idea who updates the thing, but this ribbon changes color whenever new names are added. I became the librarian when King Melich took the throne. In all these years, the ribbon has changed three times and all within the same week. Raises some strange questions.”

Nyx opens the scroll and skips to the last three entries of the list, which are four names with only one of them repeated. There is no way to tell who actually went into Aintaranurh or what happened since it is nothing more than the names. Yet the combinations bring such a startling mystery to the situation that the half-elf is practically shaking with excitement. She considers ignoring the middle entry, but writes down the information for later. Gently rolling up the scroll, she hands it back to the librarian and hurries back to the table where Cyrus is watching the crowd below.

“What did you find?” he asks when he sees her start writing a hasty note. The blurring speed of the channeler’s hand makes him dizzy and his nose wrinkles at the smell of smoke wafting off the pencil. “I saw the librarian hand you a scroll and you gave it back pretty quickly. Did you find something important for your adventures?”

“No, but I think I find the information needed to get Timoran out of trouble,” Nyx replies before she finishes her message. Sloppily folding the parchment, she hands it to Cyrus and takes a long sip of her drink. “Get this to Dariana immediately. They won’t let me inside the courthouse, so I need you to do this for me. I can’t promise that Timoran and Edric will come out of this with their reputations intact, but they will survive. Much of it depends on the King’s responses and Dariana asking the right questions, so whisper that to her. Please make sure that the sheriff doesn’t overhear you too. I know I’m asking for a lot and I’m rambling, but I really need your help, Cyrus.”