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Sci Fi & Fantasy / Shadow of Chea'Laern: Chapter 3: Gathering the Pieces
Chapter 3
Gathering the Pieces
A scowling woman stood in front of five score men in the hot midmorning sun. Some were new to her brigade, but most had familiar faces. Her piercing gray eyes roamed from one soldier to the next, up and down the lines and back again, withering each of them with her solid, intense gaze. Even as those cold eyes passed over the only two men in the entire army whom she trusted with her life, mercy was not evident. She stood a few inches less than six feet with two marvelous well-crafted daggers hanging from her belt, and a fine sword strapped to her back. Clad in a light-weighted dark blue vest, which she wore over a shirt of mithril chain mail, and a pair of sturdy leather pants enhanced by magic for flexibility and strength in the Hosttowers of Nimbdell, one could derive her position as general simply by gazing upon her. Her wavy auburn hair rustled about her shoulders as a spring breeze gusted across the plains. Shifting her toned, one hundred-fifty pound frame from one foot to the other, she remained silent in anticipation of the inevitable failure. One of them would break. She saw the sweat glistening on their exposed skin, and yet not a single soldier moved. Not a quiver amidst the ranks. A slight grin parted her lips as she felt the intensity of the moment begin to peak.
Not far to her left, in the third row of twenty, one soldier glanced at the other next to him. A move made in a mere tenth of a second, but the general saw it as if the man stood front and center.
“You!” she snapped. Her arm, index finger extended, popped out in his direction with the speed of a great cat. “Come forth.”
The soldiers in the rows ahead of him parted like split wood. The shaken man stepped forward and saluted, not daring to look his general in the eye. The rest of the soldiers appeared as trees, so firm and strong not even a mighty wind could sway their branches.
“You will be our scout,” ordered the general, scowling as she absorbed his anxiety. “You and no other.”
“Yes, Lady Rahmina. As you wish, my general,” barked the soldier, his gaze frozen on the vast plains stretching to the west behind her.
“You are dismissed,” said the general with a wave of her hand. “As for the rest of you. Decide amongst yourselves who will stand watch and who will hunt while we await his return. Any inadequacies or squabbles will be repaid with your blood.”
After the scout disappeared from view, Rahmina spun on her heels and stormed off to the west. She needed to escape her position of command for a short while to think. As ordered by the king, she’d adopted a disciplinary, strict attitude to keep her soldiers cowed for so long she began to feel she was losing herself. With the sun in her eyes and the crisp wind whispering in her ears, the small army disappeared from her thoughts.
Replaced by the politics of her kingdom, Chea’Laern.
A weary sigh escaped her lungs as her boots crunched the dry grass with every light step. The kingdom she served transformed into a greed pool over the last several years. No, she corrected herself. Not the kingdom, but the king. Treah Roanindae; a man who once loved life and his people; a man who once had a family, who once allowed himself to know friendship; a man who now only knows tyranny and wealth, power and greed in his old age. A year after her ascension to General, Rahmina began to notice the changes. Not until the arrival of Kareesa, his mage advisor from overseas, did the king ever care for power or gold. Like a little boy who recently discovered he could beat up his older brother, the king became a conduit for competition and conquest. Conceitedness and brash, reckless confidence infused Roanindae with a sense of invulnerability; a thirst for gain of any sort; a single-minded drive to win, to grow, to conquer. And his loyal subjets procured the infection as well. Some of the other generals, who Rahmina used to respect as friends, had turned sour.
And now this, Rahmina snorted as she glanced over her shoulder to the conglomeration of solders and the forests beyond. Within the forest lay a village, small and helpless with a mere score of children and just over two score adults. A village cloaked in ignorance of the mighty force assembled to seize a treasure from beneath their noses. And she was the pawn to lead that force.
“It must be done,” she sighed, a litany of motivation. The king was old and near death. His change of heart seemed to be taking a toll, for with every passing day he withered a little more, coughed a little more, and achieved a little less. Then she would be there to succeed him, to take the throne and reshape the blackened kingdom to the light it once was, back when her father was the King’s right hand man. But there was one obstacle to overcome; the significant matter of Kareesa. The mage was no match for young Rahmina physically, and the general would not feel guilty for ridding the world of the evil woman whose soul functioned as a mirror image of, and perhaps the cause of, the King’s black turned heart. The trick was to steal the favor of the king.
The thought of being queen made her wonder how the soldiers would perceive and react to the sudden change of attitude she would acquire. She hated being mean and ruthless, bossing men around like they owed her their lives. The general before her set the course of discipline they now follow and, so ordered by the king, Rahmina must keep them cowed else they would take advantage. They would embark upon a path of insubordination. It was difficult to hold an illusion of anger and promise overt punishment, but she endured. With the aid of the true anger and hatred she felt for the poisoned king and his advisor, she became the ruthless general he desired. An ugly practice it was, but a necessary one to acquire the throne and shape a better kingdom down the road.
Rahmina realized she’d walked for too long, perhaps an hour, so she launched into a steady sprint back to the east. She hadn’t broken a sweat, not even close to winded, when she sensed eyes upon her half a mile later. She glanced left and right, even behind her as she ran, but saw only rolling grassy plains stretching as far as the eye could see. Then the shadowy forms appeared in the peripherals of her vision on the higher hills to the south.
“Damn!” she cursed. They were probably bandits, for no soldier would stray from their camp. She needed a plan. Five figures rushed toward her from the hills, moving too fast to be traveling by foot. Within a few minutes, Rahmina’s legs pumping to their limits and beyond, she knew they would intercept her course and she would be forced into confrontation.
“Damn!” she cursed again. There was no avoiding the encounter. The group soon neared enough to distinguish the hunched, scrawny, pointy features associated with goblins. She recognized their mounts as worgs. There was no time for a plan, she realized. She must improvise.
She reached deep within, where the tempest created by King Roanindae swirled, and brought ferocity to bear. Her smooth face became wrinkles of a furious scowl. Her gray eyes became slits of contained rage. Her auburn hair blew straight back from the speed at which she ran, revealing the madness of her expression.
Rahmina turned south, heading for a collision course with the worg-riding goblins, drew her daggers and attempted to intimidate them with a shrill war cry.
She saw the uncertainty on the goblins’ scrawny green faces, though the worgs seemed in control and still intent on catching the meal. She hoped to avoid the confrontation with intimidation, for while five goblins were no match for her, five worgs on top of that was quite a challenge. One she doubted she could conquer alone. Unless…
She’d almost forgotten the flask King Roanindae gave her, containing oil concocted by an alchemist from a far off land. When he explained what the oil could do, she despised the thought of using it on the already overmatched villagers. Rahmina was disgusted that he would demand use of such an item along with scores of soldiers. She didn’t express her disapproval or argue in the least, of course. But she didn’t have to tell her king what she’d used the flask for upon her return to the castle. He would care only that she used it to their gain. And saving her life was definitely a gain!
The general plucked the fist-sized item from her belt pouch and launched it at her evil enemies. The oil-containing glass passed through the air unhindered and slammed into the ground at the paws of the second worg, shattering upon impact. It burst into flame, designed to do so once contacted by air, and a fireball at least twenty times the size of its container erupted from the spot. The second worg and its rider were incinerated. The following three rushed right into the white-hot fireball and tumbled, shocked, to the ground in a flurry of yelping and howling, fiery chaos. Rahmina hadn’t expected so large a blast. The rippling heat waves brushed over her and stung her eyes. The shock died away as soon as she realized she was upon the first worg-riding goblin. Adrenaline pulsed through her veins and countered the ache in her lungs from running so hard for so long. She couldn’t feel the throbbing in her leg muscles, nor the impact of her feet slamming to the ground. She felt only the change in the mosaic before her, and the beady eyes upon her.
She dropped into an abrupt crouch. The worg leapt into the air. She knew it intended to give its spear-wielding rider the advantage of height as much as to attempt to intimidate her. A grin spread across her face and she also leapt high into the air, higher than the worg. The next few seconds crawled by at the pace of a snail for the surprised goblin and its mount, for Rahmina was a promise of death looming before them.
She kicked out with one foot to knock the spear aside, timed perfect so her foot connected with the wood just behind the blade. Instead of dropping the leg, she kept it extended to knock the speeding goblin from its mount. At the same time she managed to bend low enough to stick both her daggers into the worg’s tough hide, severing two arteries, as its momentum played out. The worg howled in agony as it tumbled to the ground. It would not rise again.
Knees bent to absorb impact; Rahmina touched down light and balanced, and turned to face the remaining attackers. The other worgs, with a natural fear of fire, fled off into the midafternoon sun after the ride through the massive fireball. Three goblins remained, shaken and burned with white blisters already blotching their green skin. They obviously doubted that the squabble was worth the prize. The goblin she’d kicked from its mount, spitting dirt and dazed from the fall, pulled itself up to its knees and eyed Rahmina with utter hatred.
“You’s will pay’s fer that, yes,” it growled in poor usage of the common tongue.
She was surprised it knew her language at all. The general chuckled as she twirled her daggers in her palms and motioned to the beast’s fleeing companions with her head. “They don’t think so.”
The goblin wasted no time in joining its fleeing companions.
Satisfied with how easy she dispatched the dangerous band, the adrenaline faded and she became aware of how much energy she’d exerted during the course of the morning. Weary and hungry she tried not to think of the fact that she’d lost a half hour with the delay. Before the goblins could gather courage and numbers and return to exact revenge, she called upon the power of discipline to vanquish the weariness in her limbs. She only wished her discipline could do the same for her political worries.
* * * * *
“He should’ve returned with her by now,” mumbled Creole as he cast an absent gaze up the mountain slope to the north with his ocean blue eyes. “The cave entrance is only an hour’s walk away, and Gurandi’s been gone for over three hours.” He stood a full six feet, and his hair shone a bright blond.
Sholee giggled and shook her light brown mane, cleaning the new skins they’d garnered from the morning’s hunt. “Always worryin’, love. They’re probably enjoyin’ th’ fine day.” Her overseas accent always made him smile inside.
Creole wasn’t convinced, despite the beautiful sparkle in his wife’s emerald green eyes, and he shook his head to express his feelings. “Something’s wrong. I’ve known it since we encountered that small band of worgs near the western border this morning. This day has a bad feeling to it.” He recalled some of the times he’d ignored such a feeling, and the ensuing disappointment he’d felt following the tragedy caused by letting his guard slack a bit.
Sholee stopped washing. “What d’ ya think ‘appened?” she asked, moving up behind him to rub his shoulders. She didn’t have to reach very high, for she was just shy of six feet herself.
He shrugged. “Might be they’ve found some trouble, or trouble found them. Could be anything, you know?”
“Yer right,” she agreed. “Could be anythin’. Might be they’ve found a bit o’ fun, too. No way o’ knowin’ ‘til they r’turn. So don’t be fussin’ o’er it.”
Sholee gave his shoulders a good pat then, and returned to washing.
Creole let out a heartfelt sigh upon realizing his wife’s reasoning was sound. He picked up his axe and resumed splitting logs. Several logs later, shouts of children from the north startled them both and held fast their attention.
“Father, Father! Kaia hurt!” cried a hysteric Brinney as she ran toward the cabin. Caize trudged behind her cradling an unconscious Kaia-mei in his arms. Caize looked as though he might collapse himself.
“By the gods!” Creole gasped, dropping his axe. He rushed for the children, Sholee close on his heels. “What happened?” he queried. He took Kaia-mei from his son and lowered her to the ground.
Sholee examined the girl. She let out a relieved sigh a moment later, and reported to her husband that the spots of dried blood on Kaia-mei’s arms and tunic were not her own.
“She hurt,” whined Brinney, tears brimming her eyes.
“No she’s no’, dear,” Sholee comforted. “She’s ‘live an’ well, no’ a single scratch. She’s jes’ sleepin’.”
Brinney calmed a bit after the diagnosis, though she was still shaken.
“What happened?” Creole demanded again.
Caize explained to him how they found Kaia-mei and told of her uncharacteristic, frantic outburst.
Creole’s first thought was Gurandi. His son’s explanation of Kaia-mei’s behavior interlocked with the realization that Gurandi had not yet returned. He and his wife shared concerned looks, their talk about the day having a bad feeling becoming all too real. Creole turned back to his son with a thousand questions on his face, but something in Caize’s demeanor, in his eyes, gave him pause.
“What is it?” he asked the boy.
Caize glanced to the southwest and stuttered over a response.
“Spit it out, boy! What do you know?”
“We saw an army,” he confessed. “At least a hundred armored soldiers marching this way from the southwest, from Chea’Laern by the looks of the flags they boast.”
“By the gods,” exclaimed Creole. “What in the voids would they want with us? And why now?”
At his side, Sholee shifted. There could only be one thing in this valley to catch the interest of a greedy, selfish king, Creole knew. Somehow the legend shed its skin as myth and gained the interest of the tyrant. He worried just how far the curiosity reached. And by his wife’s uneasiness, he knew she shared his thoughts.
Creole’s expression softened as he looked to the unconscious girl on the ground then to the north, where his best friend might be in dire straights. Nah, not Gurandi! Gurandi could handle a small tribe of orcs or goblins. At worst, he would find a way to outsmart them and get away, unless Kaia-mei was a burden. The thought was not accusatory of Kaia-mei, but a simple statement of possibility.
“Fetch the hunters, boy,” he ordered his son, breaking the silence that befell the group. “Tell them to meet me in the western grove. Brinney, I need you and your mother to keep an eye on Kaia-mei while I’m away. When she awakens, try to find out what happened.”
Caize nodded and rushed away. Brinney dropped a concerned gaze to her troubled idol. Sholee continued to stare at her husband for a moment before scooping Kaia-mei up in her arms, concern apparent.
An angry, worried and confused expression on his rough-featured face, Creole marched to his cabin to retrieve his traveling gear. He reappeared at the door the same moment Brinney and Sholee reached the porch. He knew what his wife was thinking before she uttered a word, for her narrowed, inquisitive green eyes spoke volumes.
“Not to worry, I’ll not fight unless we’re forced to,” he answered her unspoken question.
“Yer knowin’ all they’re wantin’. An’ if sparin’ our ‘ome means lettin’ ‘em search fer it, I think we should le’ ‘em.” Sholee relaxed at Creole’s admission of peace. When he nodded in accord, she smiled and kissed him goodbye.
Brinney’s ears perked up, her inquisitive eyes focused on more than her parents’ exchange of words. She watched their lights interlock with each other as they communicated. She saw this perpetually, and over time learned that it was an exchange of energy. This happens when two life forms interact with each other through the connection they share. She understood the significance of her mother’s tone, and of the light auras surrounding the elders. They were mostly red, which in general meant intense emotion. The gradiations and thickness provided more information, but she couldn’t always read that deep into the lights with accuracy. From what she could tell, something besides Kaia-mei’s return had agitated the elders and they were worried. Since Creole’s lights hinted at curiousity and intent to search and discover something, and Sholee’s indicated she grew more worried by the second, Brinney figured her father’s search would lead him to danger. She watched her father head out to the west, wondering when she would see him again. When he disappeared into the thick pine forest, she followed her mother inside to wait for Kaia-mei to awake.
Caize ran as fast as he could from cabin to cabin, calling for the hunters of each to answer his father’s call and meet at the grove. But even when all the men were roused and heading out to the designated spot his work was not finished. He followed them from a distance of fifty paces, all the way to the grove and, when their meeting was finished, all the way to the forest’s western edge. Careful to stay hidden, he dared to inch close enough to hear the conversation between his father and the army’s beautiful general, and make out details of expression.
“Good sir, I’m afraid you misunderstood what I said,” the dark-haired woman was saying. “I do not doubt you would fight for your lives and the lives of your loved ones, even if it meant certain death. But we are not here to take your lives, or theirs.”
Creole and the hunters relaxed their weapons at the statement, and the general smiled at Caize’s father when she continued. “Nor are we here to enslave your village, unless you do not cooperate with us. My soldiers are here in such a force to prevent anyone from being brash and jeopardizing the friendship we might have. You may keep your weapons with you to prove that we trust you, as long as they are not brandished toward my men or me. All we ask is for a place to set up camp, a place to tie up and tend to our horses, and access to the caves in the mountains to the north of your village. Also, any maps or knowledge of those caves would be much appreciated.”
Caize couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Why would Chea’Laern want to search the caves? Could Kaia-mei and Brinney be right? He wondered, awestruck. He remembered the map Kaia-mei had found, the map she must still have in her possession, and his thoughts wandered to what his friend might have seen in the dangerous caves; what he might have seen if he were beside her. The thoughts distracted him from sensing the figure approach from behind.
“Don’t make a sound,” warned the woman’s voice, a soft whisper.
Caize gasped and spun around, the gasp not loud enough to be heard above the questions the villagers kept throwing at the general.
“Quiet! We cannot be discovered. You must come with me, and quick.”
“Who are you?” Caize asked, skeptical.
“My name is Secile. I am a mage of the Hosttowers of Nimbdell to the west and a friend of Lucimina and Phane Prieza, whose orphaned daughter lives in your village. I will explain on the way in if you wish, but you must take me to your mother and father before the army reaches your home. They will know of whom I speak.”
Caize scanned the woman’s garb, confused. Her boots were made of an impeccable smooth material he’d never seen before. Her belly length silver hair and grey eyes reminded him of the mythical tales he’d heard around the village, and he realized what she meant by the unfamiliar word “mage”. Despite his fear and disbelieving shock, the woman made him feel safe. He did not cry out, nor did he run away. He stood and stared, mouth agape. When she looked at him as though he’d lost his mind, he realized how stupid he must’ve appeared.
“Sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “I will take you.”
He had too many thoughts to digest, but the woman seemed serious and anxious for speed. After a quick glance to his conversing father, they snuck away through the woods to the east.
Sholee tenderly unrolled the parchment she’d found in Kaia-mei’s pack.
Brinney studied her mother, intrigued. When Sholee nodded, the girl understood her mother had found something important She rose to her tiptoes to see better, and noticed a punctured hole in the pack and blood stain splotches on Kaia-mei’s clothes. More curious was the parchment. She couldn’t tell what the parchment was, but knew by her mother’s reaction that it was important. An inaudible whimper escaped, for she wished she could articulate her thoughts into questions and understand the importance of what her mother found. Then, as one, they looked to the prone girl wrapped in skins lying on the bed.
Kaia-mei groaned and shifted, her eyes fluttering open.
“Kaia! Kaia you well,” exclaimed an excited Brinney.
“No, no I must go back! You must let me go back!” The tears began anew as Kaia-mei sat up and threw the skins to the floor.
Brinney sniffed and wiped the brimming tears from her own eyes. The perceptive eight year old had already drawn her own conclusion as to the reason Kaia-mei was so deeply pained, but she took comfort in the lights surrounding her mother. She knew her mother would take care of Kaia-mei.
“Kaia, please tell us what ‘appened if yer wantin’ us t’ help,” Sholee consoled.
But Brinney knew the broken girl didn’t hear her. Brinney listened to Kaia-mei’s mind, and knew she only heard the echoing footsteps, a distant flutter of wings and the screams of the dying—the screams of her father. Then another sound drowned out the rest.
You left me, you forgot me. Come back for me!
“I must go back,” Kaia-mei cried with a dried, scratchy voice, startling Brinney from her trance. But the motivation was gone from the tone of her words, and the strength in her declaration was non-existent. She didn’t even try to stand.
“Kaia-mei please. We c’n help!” the woman pleaded.
Brinney turned to the door upon hearing the thud of footsteps on the porch. Though she expected Caize to walk in, she was surprised to see a woman dressed in ornamental robes, dyed black with silver designs and purple trim, enter on his heels. She froze, mouth open and eyes wide staring at the stranger as if the woman was a creature of another plane of existence. Surrounding the woman was a plethora of colors, all different shades and gradations, and the sight was dazzling. When the woman stepped fully into the room, the colors reduced to just a few shades of yellow, blue and green.
“Caize, ‘ho’s this?” Sholee asked, her voice more curious than alarmed.
Kaia-mei didn’t even acknowledge the presence of the pair. She stared at her folded hands in her lap; amber eyes glazed over and blank as if she were viewing a place far away.
“My name is Secile,” the stranger introduced with a short bow.
“She is from Nimbdell,” Caize added.
Briney cocked her head to the side. She’d never heard the name Nimbdell, but she read Caize’s expression and Sholee’s surprised reaction, and discerned that Caize had discovered something very interesting.
“Ah see.” Brinney noticed Sholee’s discomfort with more than a passing interest. “Well met. Name’s Sholee Duunlare, and the fright’n’d one’s Brinney. I gather ye met Caize. Me husband, Creole, is out at th’ moment. What can we do fer ye?”
Secile nodded. “I am looking for a girl named Kaia-mei, daughter of Master Phane Prieza of Nimbdell.”
Sholee appeared very confused. “This one’s Kaia-mei, but she’s no dau’ter o’ no mage. ‘er mother died a bit af’er givin’ birth’n ‘er father…well he’s in th’ nor’hern mountains. Name’s Gurandi Malchae, not Prieza.”
“Gurandi is not her blood father,” explained Secile. The mage walked over to the bed and knelt down before Kaia-mei, dropping a comforting hand on her knee.
“Kaia-mei, it’s time you knew the truth,” she said.
Kaia-mei didn’t move, didn’t even seem to hear the woman. Her eyes still held that distant look of torment.
“What’s wrong with her?”
“We’re not knowin’ exac’ly.”
“Kaia hurt,” blurted Brinney. When everyone turned to regard her, she hid behind her brother.
“No’ physic’lly,” Sholee clarified. “Somethin’ tragic ‘appened in th’ caves.”
“No one witnessed this tragedy?” inquired the mage.
“She went in alone.” Caize hung his head, his lights dimming and turning red. Brinney felt bad for him. She noted a very dull hue of purple mixed in with the red, and wondered what it meant. The only times she’d seen purple before was when she watched the hunters leave, for the man leading the group no matter who it was always had purple lights. But those were extremely bright. Caize’s purple was almost unnoticeable, and matched with the sad side of angry red.
“No’ alone. Gurandi saw she took a map o’ th’ caves from ‘is room an’ went in t’ find ‘er.”
A pause of solemn silence ensued before she added, “’e ‘asn’t r’turned.”
Secile frowned as she turned to Kaia-mei.
“No! I can’t go back!” Kaia-mei screamed, lifting her tear-filled eyes to lock with Sholee’s. “It’s too late. I’m sorry...” The scream startled Brinney. She couldn’t take any more. The red around Kaia-mei was way too intense, and the shadowy spots within the red scared her. She ran into the other room and closed the door.
“Kaia-mei, listen to me!” pleaded Secile. “I am a friend of your mother and father. Gurandi was not your real father.”
Kaia-mei sniffed. “He’s telling me to go back for him…I can’t.”
“You’re right, you can’t,” agreed Secile. “The caves will soon be swarming with Chea’Laern soldiers. Listen to me. I’m here to protect you, to take you to Nimbdell to meet your blood father.”
Kaia-mei expressed sheer confusion as she regarded Secile, a sure sign that she was almost back to her senses, close to returning from the dark prison of tragedy in her mind. The pain obviously lingered.
“We don’t have much time, for the soldiers will be here soon and we must not be seen. They’ll not likely let me take you away,” she went on, looking to Sholee as she finished. “So it’s best they think we were never here.”
Sholee nodded in simple agreement. Kaia-mei didn’t have many options.
Wearing a frown, Caize didn’t seem to like the idea. Kaia-mei began crying again. Secile empathized, for the poor girl was coping with so many negative things all at once. Kaia-mei stood and wrapped Sholee in a big long hug. Sholee managed a smile as she returned the embrace.
“And if it’s not too much to ask, Kaia-mei could use a friend along the way,” Secile proposed, looking at Caize and then back to Sholee. She knew it would be best for Kaia-mei to leave the place of tragedy to allow her mind a reprieve, allow it a chance to heal. But if she chose to return, it would be much harder for her to com back one day if she didn’t take a piece of her home with her.
Caize’s smile betrayed his elation.
Sholee sighed, looking at Caize and then Kaia-mei, and back again. Finally she turned to the anxious mage and nodded. “I don’ wan’ either t’go, but I know Kaia-mei’s in need o’ a friend, else I’d ne’er agree t’ this.”
Sholee fixed an uncompromising gaze on her son. “Caize, ye’ be takin’ good care o’ yerself and Kaia-mei now, an’ be sure ye return t’ me safely. I sh’d like t’ visit Kaia-mei in Nimbdell when all this is o’er,” she finished, looking back to the mage.
Sholee hugged them both one last time.
“Not to worry, they are in good hands. We must hurry, now. A pleasure to meet you, lady Duunlare, and you’re always welcome in Nimbdell,” Secile offered with a bow.
“Wait,” Sholee begged as they headed for the door. She ran from the room and returned a few seconds later carrying a well-crafted, silver hilted dagger with a seven-inch blade.
Secile could tell by looking at the fine blade that it was light and expertly balanced, a well-crafted piece. She smiled as the woman knelt before Kaia-mei and presented it as a gift.
“I see th’ dagger ye ‘ave’s a bit rusty. We’ve not th’ time fer repairin’ it, so take this one. T’was me uncle’s, and‘ll serve ye well.”
Kaia-mei stared at the blade absently. With a reluctant nod of thanks, Kaia-mei took the dagger. It fit snug in her sheath.
Secile noted the girl’s body language and disgusted expression when Kaia-mei took the dagger. She surmised that if they found any battles along the way, and she was sure they would out on the wold, Kaia-mei’s hesitance might become a problem.
Then they left Sholee and Brinney alone to their own worries.
They made good time, heading south, until they reached the foothills of the southern mountains. They then turned west. Secile was surprised at how tolerant her companions were of walking for so long. Kaia-mei walked silent by her side, looking at the ground most of the time, with Caize following close behind and just as silent. They walked for miles through the cover of trees and into twilight. Not until it grew too dark to travel in safety did anyone speak a single word. They took their first break and set up camp five miles into the plains southwest of the valley.
“Isn’t Nimbdell northwest of the Woldwoods?” Caize asked between bites of the loaf of bread he shared with Kaia-mei. Secile knew he had so many questions on his mind, but at the moment food took precedence.
The troubled girl sat quiet, staring into the blazing campfire and seemingly unaware that a conversation had even begun.
“It is,” Secile confirmed, poking the logs with a long stick. “Sounds like you travel often.”
Caize nodded. “Around the valley I do. But other than the move from Tuntiload, the only traveling I’ve done outside the valley is in my head, studying maps and such.”
Secile let out a small chuckle and poked at the burning logs again. “Do you know as much about the Hosttowers as you do its location?” she asked, a warm smile to accompany her words.
Caize shook his head. “Nothing. Our parents lied to us, telling us Nimbdell was a myth and magic didn’t exist,” he admitted. Another large bite of bread prevented him from explaining further about his parents’ undoubtedly painful deception.
“Yes, they were right in trying to protect you from the world. Perhaps lying wasn’t the best method, but please understand their intentions were honorable.”
Caize nodded after a moment of contemplation.
Kaia-mei still showed no indication of active listening.
“After several years of perfecting our studies,” continued the mage, “the Headmaster, or Headmistress currently, sends us out on a quest. We must complete this quest in order to graduate and earn the title, position, and responsibilities of a Master. The difficulty of the quest depends on the abilities and qualifications of the questor.”
Caize leaned forward with interest.
“I am on my quest for graduation. I am to find a certain artifact of great evil,” the mage went on, reveling in his excitement. The mention of an artifact seemed to catch Kaia-mei’s attention, for she finally looked up at Secile.
“I was sidetracked,” the mage winked at her, wanting to bring Kaia-mei into their conversation. “Your father has been afraid to contact you for years, afraid that you would reject him for sending you away. He finally decided to send for you. We have no reason to believe the artifact is in evil hands, for our world is still in relative order, so I’m in no hurry to find it.”
Kaia-mei scowled, her gaze boring into the entrancing depths of the flames. “Why shouldn’t I reject him?” she growled, though it was weak. “Gurandi was my father, not this man you speak of.”
Secile could tell Kaia-mei was fighting the tears back, probably with the anger she felt for her true father’s abandonment. “I’ll leave the explaining to him. It’s not my place to tell you why he sent you away. Nor is it my place to tell you how to judge him. But I do know that he loves you, and he’s spent the past sixteen years crying and grieving and regretting his weakness. And I also know that whether you accept him as your father or not, the meeting will do you both some good. At least you’ll have met your real father. That’s a luxury I never had.”
Silence engulfed the camp for many minutes, until Kaia-mei spoke again. “What of my mother? I don’t remember her, other than the stories she told me. Did she really die?”
“That much is true, I’m afraid. Lucimina Prieza was a fine woman, and a powerful mage,” Secile answered, her tone dripping with reverence. “She was a good friend of mine. I was even at her side when she passed away.” She figured Kaia-mei was too young, and too wounded, to learn how her mother died, if she didn’t know already. She decided it was best not to even broach the subject. She didn’t feel she had the authority, or the right, to do so. That was Phane’s responsibility.
Caize shook his head.
“Tell me,” Kaia-mei begged the mage, regretting leaving the picture behind. “What did she look like?” Kaia-mei managed a half-hearted smile and looked from her friend to the mage, then back to the fire.
Secile’s smile was warm as the fire she stared at, happy to give Kaia-mei something positive to think about. She felt like she was viewing Lucimina in her mind as clear as if the woman was standing there in front of her. “She looked a lot like you, Kaia-mei. With hair the color of a raven’s feathers and brown eyes sparkling with wisdom. Every man wanted her, yet no man dared to try. She was tall and physically capable, and intelligent as the Headmistress herself. You would know if you saw her.”
Kaia-mei nodded. “I believe I would.”
Secile scanned the southwestern horizon from a small hill. No sight of Tuntiload, yet. She hoped Caize would prove as capable as his appearance led her to believe, for her faith in Kaia-mei’s assistance during battle was obsolete.
She glanced back to her talking companions sitting by the fire and smiled. She imagined Kaia-mei was thinking of nothing but meeting her real father, since the tragic loss of the man who raised her left a void in her heart to fill. Despite her fear, worries and sorrow, her mood seemed to be lightening a little.
Something in the western darkness demanded her attention then, and Secile turned to see shadowy forms moving toward them; at least half a dozen. She ducked and retreated down the hill toward the fire and her companions, certain the creatures hadn’t yet seen her. “To arms!” she whispered as loud as she dared once within their earshot of her companions.
Caize jumped to his feet, while Kaia-mei was slower to stand. Secile noted her hesitation, and knew at least one of them would get hurt if Kaia-mei participated in the battle with a distracted mind. The mage rushed to usher them beyond the firelight’s eastern perimeter, gathering their valuables along the way. They awaited the ugly inevitability. Secile wondered if the goblins or orcs saw their fire from a distance and came to plunder, or if the creatures had another destination in mind. Perhaps they would pass by.
“Will you fight?” she asked, peering into Kaia-mei’s eyes.
Kaia-mei looked away.
“Oh Secile, please don’t. . . .” Caize began in Kaia-mei’s defense.
Secile interrupted him, never taking her gaze from the girl. “It is essential to forming a plan. I mean no harm or disrespect. Simply yes, or no, Kaia-mei.”
She didn’t look Secile in the eyes when she replied, “No.”
Secile nodded. “Then sit tight and quiet. Holler if you need help.”
Six goblins wandered into the camp from the west and began searching for food scraps and treasures without delay.
“Are you accurate?” Secile asked Caize, indicating the bow on his shoulder.
He nodded.
“Then we can make quick work of them.”
“No,” argued Kaia-mei. “They’re just looking for food. They’ll leave when they don’t find any.”
Secile was caught off guard by the girl’s compassion for the evil beasts. “They view the world through infra-vision. If we move from behind this rock, one might spot us and then we’ll all be dead. They’re evil, Kaia-mei. I prefer to avoid any fight as well, especially when death is involved, but when they’re so close, when the odds of them finding us are this great, would you rather kill or be killed?” Secile’s empathy was sincere after the shock dissipated, dropping a hand to the girl’s slumped shoulder. “Say we let them live and somehow managed to escape unnoticed. They would find other victims, in your village perhaps, and they would kill them. All because we let these creatures walk away.”
“How do you know they would kill us if they saw us?” Kaia-mei snapped.
“Trust me. They would.” Secile grew irritated with the girl’s naivety.
“She’s right, Kaia,” added Caize.
Kaia-mei bolted for the firelight.
“Kaia!” Caize called.
Secile couldn’t believe the girl would be so brash. She knew Kaia-mei wanted to prove them wrong, but the mage knew she was right and so Kaia-mei’s notion was ridiculous, especially when it would cost her her life. She wasn’t worried about Caize’s yelling since Kaia-mei was about to blow their cover anyway. “Be ready. I know it pains you to see your friend running head into danger, but this is necessary. This will show her the truth,” she said.
Caize shook his nerves away and nodded as he pulled the bow off his shoulder. She watched him notch an arrow and lock his sights on a target, ready to let fly if the beasts got too close. Secile readied her spell. She planned to attack the creatures furthest away, trusting that Caize wouldn’t let the closest ones get their hands on Kaia-mei.
One of the goblins called out, and the rest turned as one to the human girl. She just stood there staring at them. They couldn’t defeat the temptation of a fresh human play toy, not that they’d want to. As one they charged for the girl, drooling and reaching out with greedy, dirty claws. Some even dropped their weapons so they’d have two hands free for her.
They relished the idea of fresh meat.
Caize drew back the bowstring, but Secile motioned for him to wait a moment longer. She wanted Kaia-mei to see the evil in the eyes of those she refused to believe were enemies. The girl needed this experience; else she would die out in the dangerous world.
She must have learned her lesson, for she began to retreat.
As Kaia-mei entered the shadows, an arrow soared out to skewer the nearest goblin through the heart. As Caize’s second arrow winged out, Secile’s blue white bolt of lighting followed. The arrow dropped one goblin, and the bolt killed two.
The remaining two goblins fought against momentum to get away, but Caize, after a nudge from the mage to pull him back to reality from the shock of seeing magic for the first time, put an arrow in one’s calf and another in the other’s back. He then moved out to release the wounded from their mortal pain; the only compassion the evil creatures deserved.
This time, Kaia-mei didn’t object.
How could the world be so cruel?
She sat against the trunk of a tall pine, her head resting on her raised knees and her arms wrapping her legs tight as though they wouldn’t stay on their own. She couldn’t find rest. How was she supposed to feel about her real father? Because of his decision to send her to the valley, she trod on grounds she wouldn’t have otherwise and caused an innocent man to die; the man who raised her nonetheless. Kaia-mei wasn’t sure she wanted to meet the man in Nimbdell, out of fear of the problems she might cause. She wasn’t sure she could hold back her anger. She heard the mage talking to Caize about the amazing possibilities, and horrors, of magic, and saw the mage glance her way several times as if she wanted Kaia-mei to listen as well. But she was tired of the drastic changes. She wanted everything to be normal again.
“You think it’s safe to have a campfire?” she asked, drawing both of them from their conversation.
Secile nodded. “We’re too close to Tuntiload for any dangerous enemies to be about, for I don’t consider goblins dangerous unless it’s a whole tribe. Once we acquire horses, the journey to Nimbdell will be swift.”
“Didn’t you ride here on a horse?” asked Caize.
Secile smiled. “I let her go free.”
Kaia-mei allowed her thoughts to consume her again.
“I’ve never seen her so broken,” commented Caize with sadness.
“As long as she knows the value of continuing her life, she’ll be fine.”
Caize glanced at her inquisitively.
The mage realized her statement was ambiguous. “Being her friend is to remind her how much she’s needed here,” she clarified.
The boy nodded. “Another job as her friend is to make sure she has a life to value.”
Secile chuckled. “A wise one, you are.” She was touched by the strength in their friendship. Envy found her there, for the decades she’d dedicated to her studies strained the possibility for such values as friendship. She had her fellow scholars, mainly Phane Prieza, but sometimes she wondered if she really knew them all that well. It wasn’t often that any of them would take a journey out of the Hosttowers, and even less often they would go together. Staring into the soft glow of the fire, Secile found herself longing for home for the first time since she left for Nimbdell when she was a child, and wondering if her home still stood.
* * * * *
Sholee peeked out the window over Brinney’s head from behind, but moved forward when Brinney ran to the door and cracked it open. A swarm of people approached, headed by her husband and a sturdy, well balanced woman. Everyone seemed at ease.
Sholee couldn’t dismiss the sight of a beautiful woman walking beside her Creole. In her peripheral vision she noticed Brinney staring at her, and she shivered. Occasionally Brinney’s stares made Sholee feel the girl looked right through her, as if Brinney had been frozen in time, or the girl had frozen time itself.
Brinney blinked. “All is well, mommy,” she stated.
Sholee raised an eyebrow. “What, hun?” Sholee shivered again.
“The lady. She no bad.” Brinney peeked out the door again.
“Oh,” replied Sholee, relieved despite the strangeness of the statement. She had no reason to believe her daughter’s words, but they did allow her to relax a bit.
“She no take Father heart.”
Sholee couldn’t believe her ears. “What, Brin? What’d ye say?”
“The lady no take Daddy heart,” she repeated before sticking her face back in the partially opened door.
“’ow…?” Sholee meant to ask, though no noise came out. She knew Brinney showed signs of extreme intelligence for her age but she’d never read thoughts before, at least not noticeably. Perhaps she hadn’t thought it. Maybe she spoke without realizing. Sholee rushed to her daughter and pulled her away from the door, kneeling as she turned Brinney to face her.
“Did I say somethin’ ‘bout th’ lady, Brin?” she queried.
Brinney shook her head, obviously confused by her mother’s behavior.
“You scare,” she squeaked, then added, “of me.”
“No, Brin,” Sholee argued, hugging Brinney close. “I’m not scared. Just confused.”
Creole pushed the door open but halted his stride, surprised to see them hugging on the floor before him. “All will be well. As long as we cooperate there will be no problems,” he assured his family, misinterpreting their behavior.
Sholee smiled at him over Brinney’s shoulder. “We know. Don’t we, hun?”
Brinney nodded emphatically, her adorable smile infecting the other and lifting their heavy spirits.
Creole could only scratch his head in reply. Then he noticed the empty bed. “Where’s Kaia-mei?”
Sholee stood and moved closer to her husband. “A mage came t’ take ‘er t’ Nimbdell t’ meet ‘er true father.”
Creole’s eyes widened as her words registered.
“Secile was ‘er name. Said Gurandi took Kaia-mei in from a mage o’ Nimbdell, an’ th’ girl’s secon’ name’s Prieza. Did ye know ‘bout it? Did Gurandi e’er say somethin’?” she whispered.
His silence spoke volumes.
“Ye did!” Sholee snapped, punching him in the shoulder.
Creole stepped back and held his hands up in defense. “I knew the kid wasn’t his, but I didn’t know about the Nimbdell story.”
Sholee glared at him.
Creole fought her glare with a pleading look. “He made me take an oath, you must understand. Besides, what difference would it’ve made?”
“I thou’t there’re no secrets b’tween us, oath or no!”
Creole noticed then that his son was not present.
“Where’s Caize?” he asked.
Sholee’s gaze dropped to the floor. “I let ‘im go, t’ keep Kaia-mei safe. She’s in need o’ a friend, ye know.” She ended the sentence with a defensive tone of voice.
Creole held up a hand to stop her. “Calm, you did well in letting him go. But please, tell me, where is the map of the caves?”
“Wit’ Kaia-mei, where it b’longs. Yer knowin’ th’ caves, why d’ ya need th’ map?”
“I was hoping I wouldn’t have to go in with them,” he sighed.
“Oh, me apologies love,” Sholee comforted. “They’ll make ye search wit’ ‘em?”
Creole saw the worry in her eyes, and smiled to dispel it. “Don’t worry, I’ll come back to you every time.” He kissed his wife and daughter goodbye and went to tell Rahmina about the missing map.
Sholee closed the door behind him with her back and sighed.
Brinney was staring at her again. “Father scare, too.” She blinked.
Again Sholee believed her daughter, despite the lack of evidence. She wondered why their lives suddenly churned, order turned to chaos within a mere few hours, and if it’d ever return to normal again.
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This is another great chapter. It’s has a lot action and draws the reader in all the while leaving unanswered questions making us want to read more.
I detect a slight similarity to R.A. Salvatore.
“five score men” of men
The first paragraph is a bit on the long side. Consider splitting it in two for easier reading.
“parted like split wood.” I loved this line.
“She needed to escape her position of command for a short while to think, without strict awareness of her disciplinary behavior and tough attitude; a façade she’d endured for her tenure as general.” This is a little awkward and I’m not sure what you mean. Without whose strict awareness?
“a greed pool” I’m not sure what you mean by pool.
“would be there to succeed him” This is unusual. Doesn’t the king have any heirs? Or are there different rules in this kingdom. Either way it probably should be explained.
“legs pumping” were pumping
“stared absently up the mountain slope to the north with his ocean blue eyes, his balding blond hair.” This sounds like he is also staring with his hair. Also his head can be balding or his blond hair receding, but I don’t think his blond hair can bald.
“Sholee stopped” pov shift.
“Creole’s first thought” pov shift.
“Brinney’s keen ears” pov shift.
“of running far” pov shift.
“he meant” pov shift.
“Satisfied with her” pov shift.
“Secile could tell” pov shift.
“disgusted at the thought” pov shift.
“He wanted to make dozens” pov shift.
“let herself cry.” Pov shift.
“She figured Kaia-mei” pov shifts.
“Caize shook his” pov shift.
“She refused to” pov shift.
“her slumped shoulder. Who’s shoulder?
It hurt to pov shift.
“She wanted Kaia-mei” pov shift.
“Caize was amazed” pov shift.
“She couldn’t find” pov shift.
“Secile watched her” pov shift.
This was kind of confusing, maybe I read it wrong, but the way Rahmina was talking in the beginning it really sounded like they were going to attack the village.
I look forward to the next chapter.
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