A Skillful Warrior (SoulNecklace Stories Book 2) (22 page)

‘Me? Why should I want him? He attacked me, remember?’ I remembered the dream of a sword striking my flesh and pain, dreadful pain, in my chest. Of a dragon, staring at me with unblinking eyes.

‘Well, you’re the one that saved his life,’ said Will. ‘I don’t see why you’re upset that he’s here. TeSin?’

The warrior turned.

‘You remember Dana?’

TeSin nodded. ‘Of course. We ... joined.’ He pressed his hands against his side, as if an old wound was hurting him. ‘You save me.’

‘I did?’ I remembered a forest. Dappled light falling through leaves; gold and green. Men, screaming as they fell. And another, lying in shadow. There had been so much death. ‘Yes,’ I said, wonderingly. ‘I did.’

TeSin bowed. ‘I thank you.’

I couldn’t fathom TeSin’s presence. If I had been saved from certain death, I would head for home as fast as a flea. I wouldn’t have clung to my healer.

Finally, we reached the mountains, just as the sun was setting. The rocks were grey and cold and at first we’d thought we’d have to sleep in the open. It was a relief when we’d found the cave.

We continued on the next day. There were flies aplenty, landing on any exposed skin, so we wound coverings about our faces and looked like masked assassins from storybooks. We rode in single file. TeSin said little, signaling which route we should follow with a wave of the arm. I think he was reading secret signals, such as scratches on the rocks or the placement of stones, but he never showed them to us and we never asked him to explain. Sometimes I thought I felt an angry mind, searching. But perhaps it was just my imagination, and I was becoming paranoid. But N’tombe rode alert, and Will and TeSin scanned the ridges constantly.

It felt strange to be traveling without Jed. Not that he had talked a lot; he seemed as self-sufficient as the sunrise. But his presence was ... how to put it? Settling. When Jed slumped on his horse and put his hat forward over his eyes, you knew there was nothing to fear.

Will had told me of Ma Evans and Jed. He said Jed had remained in Towyn as a surety against our return.

‘A hostage? You left him as a hostage?’

‘Well,’ Will had blushed slightly. ‘Not quite. No. That’s not the words I’d use.’

We traveled for three days and nights, moving from one deserted village to another, following the route TeSin found for us. The canyon-ways were dry and barren, with only solitary bushes or low-growing herbs providing any relief. But the stone was beautiful; pink in the overhangs, orange in the sunlight, its color seemed to change with the shade and the height of the sun. Sometimes it almost appeared alive; as if, like a great animal, it was breathing slowly.

We passed through narrow canyons, dark and still, into openings as wide as amphitheatres. There were signs people had once lived in these spaces: hidden springs of clear, cold water and houses, carved cave-like into the rock. Some cave facades were elaborate, with ornate doorways and decorative carvings of columns or vine leaves, but most were plain, just square holes. But elaborate or plain, all were empty. Except for the birds, there seemed to be nothing living in these dry gullies. The only sound, save our speech, was the cry of the vultures and the wind that blew across the cave mouths like a man blows air across a flute. The place seemed to sigh with loneliness. I had an uncomfortable feeling, passing along the track, that shades of the inhabitants remained and stared at us with resentful eyes.

It was good to ride again; to have the feeling of the animal’s gait beneath me, to smell the scent of horses. And even better was to have company, for company meant protection in the dark and people to talk with. After so many weeks of being locked up on my own, ah, how welcome was this companionship!

But in spite of the warmth and security, in some ways I felt I was still alone; that the others were behind a screen of glass. What had happened to me? When I had fought those magicians, I had felt myself growing, becoming
more
. But what had I become?

Over this time the beads seemed quiet; they didn’t talk to me directly, and they didn’t enter my dreams. But I felt their watchfulness. Like me, they feared pursuit.

Nights were the worst. Perhaps it was the haunted feeling of the valleys, or the constant fear. Maybe it was just the knowledge that I had a long path in front of me. I slept poorly, and when I did manage to fall asleep I dreamed.

At night I saw stones falling, earth shaking. I dreamed of darkness and dusty sunlight. Once I saw my father standing in a wine cellar, staring down a dark tunnel. It was a relief to wake.

I began to feel stunned from lack of sleep. Sometimes, my dreams were so intense they seemed more vivid than my waking hours. I felt uneasy, as though a dark threat, newly risen, was seeking me. What had happened to the magic workers? Some I had fought and destroyed, but in their black clothing they seemed much like insects. And insects were hard to kill. How had I managed to stay alive when there had been so many?

‘We should go faster,’ I said.

Pressing the horses, we sought to make as much speed as possible on these winding paths.

On the third morning the track widened so we could ride two abreast. I trotted beside N’tombe.

‘Where are we going?’ I asked.

‘Back to the ship, Princess. Where else?’

Of course. They had to return to pick up Jed. But I was supposed to go to Gusu and find the knife. Although how could I leave my friends again, when they’d worked so hard to find me?

N’tombe looked at me. ‘What?’

I shook my head. I didn’t want to talk about the blind carver, because that would mean a whole raft of questions that I just did not want to answer just yet. The Guardians were...complicated. ‘Nothing.’

We stopped to water the horses at a spring, displacing mice and startling a dreaming snake. Will watched it go, frowning. He was brooding about something.

‘It’s only a snake,’ I said. ‘Don’t worry about it. It didn’t hurt you.’

‘It’s not that.’

‘What is it, then?’

‘Look. I know you don’t want to talk about it. But I’ve been thinking about that ship. The one that brought you here. The one you ...’ He looked at me anxiously, as if concerned about my temper. ‘The one you, well, the one you burnt.’

‘What of it?’

‘It’s been seen before. Along the coastline, near to Towyn.’

He told me of the fishing village where I’d been taken on board, a limp captive. I did not want to hear this. I didn’t want to think that I’d been carried like a sack of wheat over some man’s shoulder. I swallowed, stared up at the sky, where the birds wheeled, free.

We trotted out of the clearing, into another gap in the rocks. TeSin seemed certain of the paths, but to me it was like a maze.

‘That ship,’ I said slowly, ‘it’s explored the coastline nearby ... what was the name of the village you stayed at?’

‘Towyn,’ said Will. ‘Been trading on and off for nigh on five summers, Ma Evans said.’

Something was not right here. ‘But...’

He reined his horse back, looked at me.

‘Traders carry goods. But Will, the boat that took me was mostly empty. It was not a trading vessel.’

‘I don’t understand,’ said Will. ‘If it’s not a trader, why else would it be there, along that coast?’ He stopped. I could see his mind ticking like a merchant’s tally beads.

At the front of our little caravan TeSin seemed to stiffen. He was listening, and listening hard.

‘He knows,’ I said. ‘Ask him.’

TeSin sighed.

‘Well?’ Will stared at the warrior’s straight back. ‘What’s she saying?’

TeSin wouldn’t answer, so I spoke for him. ‘That ship was a spy. Been traveling up and down the coastline for a few summers, you say? Well, now it knows all the harbors and shoals in the area.’ The Emperor was immortal; he’d be in no hurry. He would take his time, study the land carefully before committing his forces. ‘That army we fought, the one we destroyed? I warrant that was only an expeditionary force. There will be another one coming, probably much larger.’

What hope would Towyn have, would any land have, with that might arrayed against it?

Will still looked uncertain. ‘If that’s true, we must warn them.’

‘You must,’ I was suddenly certain of my route. ‘I must go elsewhere.’

‘Elsewhere? What are you talking about?’

‘I have to find something,’ I said. ‘I saw it in a dream.’

TeSin turned. When I looked into his dark eyes I saw a line of villagers; a sword flaring bright in the morning sun; heads, piled beside the roadside.

You can end it,
whispered a dead woman.
Behead the dragon
.

––––––––

F
or the last few weeks, Will felt as if he’d been taking small breaths only, the tension building unfelt within. And then he’d seen Dana, alive and well and finally, finally, he could breathe once more.

It had been three days since they’d found her standing on the roadway, the power pouring from her. At first, she had appeared unaffected by her journey; during the day she seemed well enough. A little quiet, maybe, and prone to sudden bursts of anger. But given what she must have been through this was perhaps understandable. During the nights, though ... ah, the nights were difficult.

Each night, the nightmares would begin and he would wake. Sometimes she’d scream, or have long, drawn-out arguments, half-mumbled conversations. From her tone of voice, Dana was not happy. It was as though she was worried or concerned for someone. Seemed Dana was argumentative even in her dreams.

For a time, he worried that the dreams were about him, that she’d seen him come to some bad end. Then he decided: No. He wasn’t going to ask. Whatever their future was, he didn’t want to know it in advance. Best take each day as a gift. But in the dark, she never called his name.

On the third day they reached the village. Not the nicest place, full of flies and piles of refuse, but they could replenish their supplies and get some shoes for Dana. The merchant — if merchant was the right word for a wizened old man selling wares from a blanket — gripped the coins eagerly, holding them close to his one eye, while Dana poked her feet into the sandals and tied up the leather straps.

That afternoon, TeSin led them back into the mountains. With all the magic workers stirred up like hornets, it seemed sensible to stay off the main road. The canyon ways grew narrower, mere slits in the rock, and they rode in single file. Will began to worry. What if it rained? There would be no escape here in a flood. And they should not have paid the leather merchant so well. Word of strangers with coin would fly about a poor town, and these tight ravines were perfect places for an ambush.

In the shadow, Dana’s face seemed pale. She called out to TeSin. ‘How did you know of this trail?’

‘I here before,’ he said. ‘Many, many years ago.’

‘When you were fighting?’

‘No,’ he turned back in his saddle to look back at her. His voice was calm. ‘This land long belong to Emperor. No fighting. This ... peaceful.’

Dana snorted. ‘Peace! Your empire does not bring peace.’

She looked so sad that Will wanted to hold her. Poor lass. She’s lost her family, her home; no wonder she was unsettled at night. But Dana wasn’t looking at him. She was glaring at the Noyan.

TeSin drew breath, but she suddenly shouted. ‘
I saw you!’
Above, pigeons clattered, startled from their nesting places by the noise. ‘I was there! You stood in the morning sun and you put a village to the sword.’

Her voice seemed older, much older. She sounded desperate and infinitely sad.

‘Dana,’ Will said.

She looked back at him. ‘I know you worry about my dreams, Will. You are right to worry.’ Her eyes were wet. ‘That village back there. Did the people there look well? Did they seem happy? No, TeSin, your Emperor does not bring peace. The land is quiet, you say? That quietness you feel is fear. But fear is not peace. Fear is slavery.’

They all halted their horses and stared at Dana. She took a deep breath. ‘In my dreams I see terrible things: children enslaved; a man, blinded. All in the name of the Eternal One. Your empire is evil, TeSin.’

TeSin blinked, considering Dana’s flushed face. ‘You see many things,’ he said carefully.

Dana slumped in her saddle. ‘I have. I have,’ she murmured. She thumped her chest. ‘No heart, any more. My heart is become a stone; a stone made of sorrow.’

TeSin’s eyes widened. ‘
Stone of Sorrow
. That very old saying. How you know it?’

N’tombe set back her hood and gazed at Dana. ‘I think,’ she said, ‘you should tell us of your dreams.’

Dana shook her head. But TeSin stared at the Princess as if disbelieving what he’d heard, or as if she’d worked a miracle.

The Noyan shadowed her for the rest of the day: groomed her horse, drew water from the spring for her. Gave her spare food from his rations. He even built a bed up for her with their spare blankets. Will felt uneasy. TeSin was a warrior, not a servant. What was he doing? What was he thinking?

She woke them again that night. They’d tucked themselves into another vacant cave-house, cut into the soft sandstone of the hills. Traces of the people who had lived in this place remained in the frayed blanket in the corner and the storage locker pecked into the stone at the rear of the cave.

Will was jerked suddenly from sleep. A scream ripped through the cave. Beside him, Dana sat bolt upright. Tears ran down her cheeks.

‘Dana, Dana!’ Will shook her by the shoulders. ‘It’s me. Will.’

N’tombe conjured a flame from — where? The air? — and peered over at the crying girl.

Will shook her harder. Dana’s head swayed, like a china doll’s. Then she blinked and peered at their faces.

‘Where? Where am I?’

‘What did you see, Lady?’ N’tombe’s face was invisible behind the light, so her voice seemed to be coming from nowhere, like a disembodied spirit.

Dana touched Will’s face. He smiled gently at her and tucked his arm about her shoulders. She rested her head under his chin.

‘Dana?’ asked N’tombe.