Valorian (34 page)

"They have banded together and are fleeing Chadar."

"Banded together? Indeed. How inconvenient." The ful meaning of Tyrranis's words suddenly occurred to Antonine, and he blinked several times before he asked in mild alarm, "Have they caused many problems?"

Tyrranis nodded. "They are heavily armed and very dangerous." He decided not to mention Valorian's magic until he had to, for fear of terrifying Antonine out of his ineffectual wits. He would merely stir up the young man's sense of duty. "They pil aged and burned their way down the length of Chadar."

His cake forgotten, Antonine straightened in his seat and asked suspiciously, "And where are these renegades now?"

The Chadarian general sighed sadly, steepled his fingers, and answered, "They crossed into Sarcithia two days ago."

"What?" Antonine lifted his chin and sat straighter. "And you did nothing to stop them?"

Tyrranis didn't move. "I was unable to be with my men when they chased the Clan to the Bendwater River. The commander who let them escape has been dealt with, but by law, I could not simply charge my troops into your province after those outlaws."

"No. No, of course not." Antonine shook his head in agitation "Where are these clanspeople going?"

“We believe to Wolfeared Pass and the Ramtharin Plains."

The young man's face cleared. "Oh! Wel , that changes things. If they want to go to the other side of the Darkhorns and starve on those empty plains, let them." He sat back, relieved, and helped himself to another cake.

General Tyrranis waited until the cake was eaten, then stared thoughtfully at the ceiling and said,

"Unless, of course, they decide to stay in Sarcithia and raid your villages and farms, or rob caravans and travelers."

The Sarcithian governor paled. "They wouldn't dare do that with the Twelfth Legion here," he cried.

"That would be fol y."

"Whoever said clanspeople were intelligent? As you said, they are thieves. Greedy, violent thieves."

Tyrranis slowly leaned forward to stare unblinkingly at the younger man. "And what if they do escape the Tarnish Empire? Do you want to be the one who explains to the emperor why you refused to help me capture these outlaws who are endangering the peace and security of two of his most profitable provinces?"

Antonine sagged back on his seat and was silent for a long time while he tried to think of ways to squirm out of this onerous duty. He wanted no part of chasing a pack of bloodthirsty barbarians around the countryside. Annoyingly he could think of no way to get out of it that would leave his public image intact. Tyrranis was right: They had to bring these people to heel. However, Antonine knew he couldn't simply let the Chadarian general march freely through Sarcithia with such a large force. Nor, Antonine swore angrily to himself, was he going to allow Tyrranis to take any part of the Twelfth Legion without him.

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention, General Tyrranis," he said at last, trying not to be surly. "If you wish to accompany me, we will take the Twelfth Legion. They will have no trouble dealing with these brigands."

Pleased, General Tyrranis ignored the insult. His mouth tightened into an unpleasant smile, and his eyes glittered like a predator's. "That will do," he murmured, as if to himself.

Antonine looked away, stifling a shudder at the brutal light he saw in Tyrranis's face. "Have you a plan of action in mind?" he asked sarcastically. He had no use for tactical maneuvers, but knowing Tyrranis's past reputation in war, the general had probably planned his strategy even before he arrived in Sar Nitina.

"Of course," the general replied coldly. "We send a fast messenger to my men waiting on the Bendwater. They will force-march south to meet us at the Argent River near Wolfeared Pass. The Clan travels on the mountain paths, so we should easily reach the trail to the pass before they do and have time to arrange a small welcome for them."

Antonine didn't bother to argue, criticize, or debate the general's plan. "So be it," he said resignedly, and he sent for General Sarjas, the commander of the XIIth Legion.

By early evening, the legion was on the march.

The Clan wanted to celebrate after their successful crossing of the Bendwater, and for one day, Valorian allowed them relief and rest. They found a broad meadow ringed with trees late that evening and set up camp there. They were awake half the night talking, telling stories, and singing, still energized by the effects of the wild race for the river and the crossing into Sarcithia.

The only thing Valorian forbade was fires. The caravan was still in Tarnish territory, he warned the people, and too close to Sar Nitina for comfort.

Although the Chadarian garrison hadn't crossed the Bendwater River, the chieftain had a strong suspicion the general hadn't given up. Tyrranis was too tenacious, too obsessed by vengeance and a desire for power, to let a mere thing like a border or jurisdiction thwart him for long. With Sar Nitina within marching distance and Governor Antonine likely to help him, Valorian knew it would only be a matter of time before the Tarns were after the Clan again. . . and there was still a long way to go to Wolfeared Pass.

So Valorian gave his people one day to rest, hunt, gather food in the hil s, dry their clothes and gear, tend their stock, and enjoy their respite. Then he moved them on once more. They fol owed without too much complaint, since even the dul est among them could see the sense of Valorian's reasons and knew the fear of General Tyrranis's legionnaires.

Nevertheless, Valorian worried about his people, especially the children, the elders, and the pregnant women. The journey had been hard on everyone, and while no person, other than Karez, voiced any bitter objections, Valorian could see the strain on the faces of young and old alike. He wished there was an easier way to find peace and freedom; he wished he didn't have to put his people through this ordeal.

But when he voiced his concern to Mother Wil a, his grandmother laughed. "We chose this journey, as you well know!" she reassured him. "We'll make it. Just look at your wife. Look at me or Linna. Do we appear to be on our last legs?"

Valorian had to admit they did not. Kierla, Linna, and Mother Willa shared a cart on the trail, and all three women were healthy. Even Kierla, with her baby and her growing womb, was glowing with well-being.

"Yes," Mother Wil a went on, "we are tired and hungry. People have been hurt and some animals lost. But, Valorian, look how far we've come!" She gave him a bright smile intended to boost his flagging confidence. "Don't worry about us. Worry about that awful Tyrranis and how to get us over those mountains. We'll have plenty of time to complain when we get to the Ramtharin Plains."

Valorian appreciated her words and took strength from her wisdom. In the back of his mind, he knew she was right, yet it helped sometimes to hear another person tell him.

For seven more days, the Clan worked its way south along the flanks of the mountains toward the valley of the Argent River and the trail up to Wolfeared Pass. They saw very few people in these hills.

Most Sarcithians lived along the coast or in the river valleys to the east. Up in the higher elevations, there were only some scattered shepherds, a few mountain men, and an occasional band of outlaws.

One small gang followed the caravan for a half a day hoping to pick off some animals or a straying wagon until the rear guard drove them off. Nobody seriously threatened the large caravan, and there was no sign of any Tarnish soldiers.

In the meantime, the weather remained clear and warm, the trail stayed dry, and the caravan made good progress. On the seventh day into Sarcithia, the people clearly saw for the first time the strange twin peaks they had heard so much about. It was there, they said to one another; the pass was truly there! It was still several days' journey away, but just to e the peaks gave every man and woman a thrill of confidence.

Ten days after leaving Chadar, the Clan arrived at the Argent River valley, where the trail from Wolfeared Pass wound down out of the mountains. Valorian had forgotten how beautiful the valley was, made prettier now by the verdant green growth and burgeoning wildflowers of spring.

The valley floor was broad and grassy, its walls steep, rocky, and overgrown with trees. The river, a bouncing, noisy, white-rapid stream nestled into the valley floor, flowed in a ribbon of silver through groves of broad-leafed trees, willows, rushes, meadows, and stands of evergreens. Behind it all, like an omnipotent guardian, stood the white-capped ramparts of Wolfeared Peak.

The clanspeople paused when they saw the breathtaking view. They stared in appreciation and excitement and hoped that the land beyond the mountains was equal y as beautiful. Contented, they angled their wagons down to the river, turned east, and headed into the mountains for the final climb to the pass.

The next day dawned dear and mild, with a slight breeze and the hint of heat to come in the afternoon. The clanspeople broke camp early, eager to be on their way. Valorian, his guards, and the men riding in the vanguard took their places at the head of the caravan. At the sound of the signal horn, voices shouted, whips popped, wheels creaked, and the procession was on the move once again.

They traveled without incident through the morning, moving deeper and deeper into the val ey.

Gradually the valley floor narrowed, and the walls steepened and rose higher. The day turned warm as the morning breeze died to a whisper.

Valorian was riding Hunnul ahead of the duster of guards and warriors when a great white-headed eagle abruptly launched itself out of a tall pine to the right of the trail. Its piercing screech filled the valley with its warning. Hunnul stopped in his tracks. His head went up, and his nostrils flared to search for a scent of danger on the light breeze.

Suddenly he snorted.

The angry word
“Tarns!”
had barely registered in Valorian's mind when a dense flight of arrows rose out of the rocks from the right and dropped out of the sky into the midst of the unsuspecting vanguard. The quiet morning burst into bloody, yel ing confusion. Hunnul wheeled back as another flight of arrows swarmed among the Clan warriors before Valorian could react. Several whizzed by his head, forcing him to duck, and he saw a dozen men fall, pierced by the Tarnish shafts. Three other men were wounded and clinging to their horses. The chief felt a sickening surge of rage.

"Ambush!"
someone screamed, and the word was flashed down the line of wagons and carts.

Simultaneously a force of about a hundred Tarnish soldiers rose from their hiding places among the clustered rocks and trees of the steep val ey slope and came leaping down to attack the vanguard.

Valorian didn't move for a moment while he tried desperately to decide what to do. The vanguard was too disorganized by the sudden attack to form an effective defense, and there wasn't enough time for him to reach them to help. He had to act immediately or the Tarns would overwhelm the smaller force of clansmen. Then his eyes fell on the large clumps of boulders that rested on the slope above the trail.

He rose to his full height on the back of his great horse. His eyes snapping with fury, he pul ed the magic out of the earth itself, shaped his spell, and sent it hurtling back as a barrage of powerful bolts that exploded into the ground beneath the piles of tumbled boulders. The section of the slope lurched from the force of his power; the rocks slid out of their resting places and began to slide downhill. Their growing momentum jarred others loose until the slide became a grinding monster of rock, earth, and gravel. The soldiers stopped, staring at the approaching landslide with horror. They tried to run, but it was too late.

"Get back!" bellowed Valorian to his men.

Terrified, the clansmen grabbed their wounded and scrambled back out of the way as the landslide came rol ing and thundering down the hil in a great cloud of dust. It caught the Tarnish soldiers and dragged them down into the churning mass of rock. The slide rumbled all the way to the riverbank before its impetus slowed and the roaring noise of its passage slowly grumbled to an end.

Valorian stared balefully at the settling dust and the strip of land laid bare. All along the ground below him, the trunks of trees and the bodies of men lay broken and twisted among the rocks. He saw that some of the soldiers were struggling to get out of the rockslide's debris or to help others who were trapped or wounded, but he doubted from their slow movements or stunned faces that they were going to offer any more trouble to the Clan.

The chieftain turned away to assess the condition of his own people. He hadn't had time to realize who had been kil ed or wounded, and his heart was in his mouth as he hurried back to the caravan.

The lead wagons had stopped during the aborted ambush, which had brought the entire caravan to a halt. Some of the cIanspeople were helping the wounded men, while others were coming up to join the vanguard and keep a close watch on the broken Tarnish force.

Valorian gave the wagons only a cursory glance before he slid off Hunnul and went to help the wounded. His heart was pounding with dread. When he saw Aiden alive and uninjured, his fear and anger eased, then it soared again when he saw the dead faces of two of his guards, who had ridden with him from the gates of Actigorium and had stood by him before the duel with Karez. One of his other guards was slightly grazed, and there were five other warriors who were wounded. But there was still one face Valorian had not seen yet.

He hurried from group to group, helping where he could, loading the wounded into wagons, and searching. He used his power to dissolve arrows lodged in men's bodies and to transform scraps of cloth into clean linens for bandages.

Finally Valorian yelled to his brother, "Where is Mordan?"

Aiden shook his head and pointed to a wagon several vehicles back. His face grim, Valorian hurried over, and there he found his friend lying on a pile of blankets hastily thrown over the contents of the wagon. Mordan stirred slightly when Valorian climbed up beside him, but the chieftain went cold. It was immediately obvious why someone had put Mordan there without trying to bandage his wound.