A Skillful Warrior (SoulNecklace Stories Book 2) (6 page)

Will had come to the Kingdom as a twelve-year old orphan. His parents had died from a plague, but his Aunt, forewarned by Will’s mother, had sent him a token, a small wooden carving shaped like a button or a tiny seed. Tokens gave their rightful owners entry to the Kingdom. Will had journeyed to the Kingdom on the back of a courier’s horse. Poor Will. Thrust out alone into the wide world. At least I had my friends with me; at least my family were alive.

This was a wild land, this place of moor and mountain. Ahead of us, to the west, the wold rolled towards the sky. North, mountains loomed; rounded peaks, crowned with patches of white summer snow. And behind us, to the east?

The saddle leather creaked as I twisted, trying to turn my head on my neck, my neck on my back. My spine cracked, my muscles protested at the movement. Maybe I was getting old. I was sixteen, after all.

There was nothing remarkable behind us, just our tracks in the heather; bent and broken stems and the musty scent of crushed leaves. The moor remembered our passing. At the horizon, far behind us now, lay a line of green - the willow-brake where we’d camped last night, where Will had held me hard against him.

‘Do you miss your parents?’ Will asked, his voice low, as if to keep the others from hearing.

I sighed. Of course I missed them. Well, I missed my father. There was some relief in being removed from Mother’s company. ‘A little. It’s not like being homesick. It’s just like ... I know they’re not there.’ I rubbed my eyes. Thinking of my family made me realize how far away they were. An incalculable distance — how could one measure the distance between worlds?

‘We should move,’ said Jed.

Will grinned at me. ‘Race you!’

I remembered again the warmth of his hands on my thighs. Enjoy the day, the fine weather, the fact we were together. Don’t think of the enemy behind.

Leaning forward on the horses as their stride lengthened, we sped, faster than thought, as the wind roared in our ears. No time for speech; there was only the panting of our breath and the brightening light of the morning.

Only later did I remember our tracks in the heather. The sun was high. We had stopped to rest the horses and to take a bite to eat.

Will looked concerned. ‘Were they very clear?’

I pushed my hair off my sweating forehead. ‘Clear enough.’ The bent and broken heather would be like a road-sign to a tracker.

N’tombe fanned her face with her hat-brim. Her skin with sweat, and her eyes were tired. ‘You should have said.’

‘I know. I’m sorry.’

She grunted, stared up at the sky, at a pair of buzzards that circled lazily against the empty blue. ‘I could go and look.’ She sounded doubtful.

‘We’re on hard turf now,’ Will said. ‘Hoof prints won’t show so well.’

Jed shook his head. ‘A good tracker will still follow us.’ He turned in his saddle, looked back behind us. The sky, the land were empty. ‘They’re still far behind. Let’s look for a river. They can’t follow our tracks through water.’

‘Maybe they’ve stopped?’ I said, hopefully.

Will shook his head. ‘I doubt that. This moor will be as good as a highway to them. They’ll have spare horses; they swap mounts to keep them fresh. The only thing we can hope for is to hide.’

My stomach twisted, and for a moment it felt hard to breathe. What would happen when they reached us? I hoped they would kill me quickly. Would they use spears, or swords to do it?

‘Or move faster.’ Jed looked at my face. ‘Cheer up, Princess. You’re not dead yet. Will and I have out-run these folk before, you know.’

‘One moment.’ N’tombe unlaced a clinking leather pouch from her saddle. Upending it, she poured coins and gems into her cupped hand. The gold gleamed in the sunlight. ‘I must give you this. In case we become separated.’

Jed caught his breath. ‘A King’s ransom here, lady.’

‘It is pretty, yes?’

Carefully, Jed picked a gemstone from the small pile. A square-cut diamond, it seemed to have an orange hue. Or maybe that was the gold, reflecting in its faces. ‘You have had these with you, all along?’

She nodded. ‘The Guardian gave them to me before we left.’ She wrapped her fingers around the handful of coins and precious stones and pressed her fist into Jed’s palm. ‘For you.’

He stared at her. ‘Me?’

‘We may be parted. Who knows? If that happens, you will need this coin.’

He shook his head. ‘No. No.’

But she opened her fingers and the money poured into his palm. Reflexively, he closed his hand around it.

‘Do you have a bag?’ she asked.

He touched a piece of gold with a finger. ‘Ain’t never held so much coin.’

‘A bag, Jed?’

‘Ah. Yes. Yes.’ He untied a pouch from his own saddle, poured the money and jewels into it. He swallowed as he tied it back on. ‘Don’t think I’ll need it though,’ he muttered, as if to himself. ‘Can’t see us getting separated.’ He pushed back his hat and stared at N’tombe with bright eyes. ‘Is that what you see?’

She didn’t answer the question, just gathered up her reins and kicked her horse. ‘Let’s ride.’

We reached the edge of the moor by afternoon. Below lay a steep, forested valley. Walking slowly, heel-toe, heel-toe, the horses tripped their way down the hill. Water trickled beside us, forming muddy ponds.

Jed scratched his forehead with a dirty fingernail. ‘Best follow the stream.’

The horses splashed their way downhill. Out of the wind the sun felt warm, and soon the horses shone with sweat. Turning awkwardly in the saddle, I stared behind us. The ridgeline remained clear.

Gradually, the watercourse widened as it flowed towards the trees. It was a relief when we finally walked beneath their branches — I felt hidden, less of a target. The air grew cooler.

N’tombe sucked in her breath. ‘We need to move.’

‘Where are they?’ asked Jed.

‘Following our trail,’ she said, ‘and coming fast.’

We traveled downstream, not speaking. The tree branches met over the waterway, obscuring the sky. All I could see were faint wisps of dust-colored cloud. It was hard to sit so calmly, yet there was no point in rushing; the ground was too uneven to move quickly.

The banks of the river widened, flattening to grey shingle. Ferns grew in the river bank, tree roots tangled in the edges. They looked like ancient bones. Dimly, I heard a roar of rushing waters, far ahead. Rapids.

‘Ah. Now, the land changes.’ N’tombe sounded relieved. She turned to Jed. ‘You must go on.’

Jed stared at her. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘Listen to me!’ she said impatiently, ‘You and Will — you must keep going.’

What was she talking about? She had said nothing of us parting. We all stared at her.

‘You want us to go ahead?’ asked Will, uncertainly.

‘Jed and Will must lead the army. But do not fear — they will not be able to follow you. Jed, watch the trail carefully; be wary. And take your weapons.’

‘You want us to go on foot?’ said Will.

‘At first you may ride, but with caution. Later, yes, then you will need to lead your horses. Trust your instinct. There will be a path.’

‘You got nothing else to tell us, save to send us away?’ Jed asked.

She glared at him.

‘Lady. I trust you. You know I do. Please. You must tell us more than that.’

‘Jed. Do as I say.’ She stretched a hand towards him. ‘Old friend. You were the first to speak to me when I came to this world. Did you know that? I was reeling with the strangeness of this place. I felt as though I was walking through a nightmare. Then I met you. You smiled, remember? Please, trust me now.’

‘You knew this was going to happen, didn’t you? When you gave me that coin?’

‘It was a possibility, no more.’

‘A possibility,’ he muttered. ‘Seems like foretelling to me.’ His blue eyes sparked. ‘If you can see the future, tell me. The lad and me — will we be safe?’

‘You will both be safe. Make for the coast, for the inn.’

‘An inn, is it?’ He smiled briefly. ‘That’s not prophecy. That’s a certainty — always an inn in my future. Come, Will. Seems we’re to be the vanguard, you and I.’

I stretched for Will’s reins, trying to hold him back. He touched my cheek gently. His fingers were rough. ‘So long, Princess.’ He tugged his hat brim down to hide his eyes and turned to follow Jed. As they passed under the trees they seemed to vanish into dappled light.

‘Dana! Come.’

I pressed my heels to the chestnut’s side. ‘I hope you know what you’re doing.’

‘Always,’ she said.

Our rough track wound about gnarled, low-growing oaks, passed around lichen-specked boulders. N’tombe seemed certain of her path.

‘I don’t understand. Wouldn’t it be safer if we were all together?’

She said nothing. I stared at her back, so upright and small in the saddle. She still moved like a block on horseback. It was not fair! Why did she always split us up? I thought of the pond, and Will’s hands on my thighs and shivered. Perhaps that was why. Perhaps she worried we might become too ... friendly. Don’t be silly. There’s an army behind us. I’m sure she’s more worried about that than Will and I being together. But still, I wondered.

On this surface we would leave no tracks, but it was hard going for the horses. My mare stumbled, threw me forwards onto her neck. I patted her gently. She tipped an ear, either in apology or in warning.

N’tombe passed a grey rock. ‘In here.’

Smothered in ferns and lichen, at first it looked just like a stone outcropping. But then I saw the narrow hole that marked the cave.

‘The horses can rest here,’ N’tombe said.

But the animals had other ideas. My chestnut baulked at entering the cave’s darkness and N’tombe’s gelding tossed his head angrily.

‘Dana, can you help?’

Dismounting, I placed my hands gently over my horse’s eyes, closing my own, so as to see the world through her senses. To the animal, the world arched about him, spinning, and oh, how anxious she was: the shadows, the movement of the trees, the rustling of the ferns in a sudden whispered wind. A herd animal, bred for speed, perpetually wary. But not of me. To her, I was the center of the world; her leader. She would follow me through fire, and worse. Did I deserve such trust?

I threw a cloak of black across her vision and walked backwards into the cave. Obediently, she followed. The gelding trailed behind.

‘Thank you.’ N’tombe sounded grateful.

High enough to stand upright in, the cave stretched into blackness. The ground underfoot was broken with stones of varying height and pitch. N’tombe pulled the packs from the horses, dumped them near the rough opening.

‘What is this place?’ The whisper sighed upwards, echoing off broken rock.

‘Can you not tell?’

‘There’s something.’ A feeling of waiting, of suspense. Of being apart, and yet within. I stood in the dim light of the doorway and felt foolish. I was imagining it. There was nothing.

‘No.’ She sounded annoyed. ‘Feel with your heart.’

I shut my eyes, restricting my vision as I’d done with the horse, to the golden light that leapt from all living things; a web of energy, shared by all creatures. N’tombe flared like a torch against the cave’s darkness. Her light shimmered as she placed nosebags of oats over the heads of the horses. The cave felt like an emptiness. Void.

‘You feel it, then?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe.’ I was too worried to care about the inside of a cave. ‘What have you done with Will?’

‘He’s the hare to draw the hounds.’

‘You’ve set Will and Jed as
bait
?’

‘The land changes,’ she said, cryptically.

‘You can’t! There’s an army coming. I saw them —there’s hundreds, horsed and weaponed. You can’t leave Jed and Will to run loose in front of that mass of men, while we hide in this cave.’

I wouldn’t be the princess who sat in a tower, watching men kill themselves over her.

‘Dana! Put down your weapons.’

I snatched my hand guiltily from the tops of my knives. ‘I should be with him.’

‘You need to be here,’ she said. ‘Sit down. Calm your mind, child. You’re floundering like a fish pulled from water.’

The beads on my wrist stirred, as if in agreement.

I stomped to the side of the doorway, plonked down onto a rock. ‘All right. I’m sitting. What do you need to tell me?’

N’tombe squatted beside me. ‘What do you feel?’

‘Nothing,’ I said, crossly. ‘Just you and the horses.’

‘There are a few places in the world that can only be found by noticing things that are not. This cave is one such place.’

‘Like a break in the gold?’

‘Is that how you see the world? Golden light? That must be very pretty.’

I wasn’t about to talk about esthetic views of the world. ‘Why are you doing this?’

N’tombe touched my bracelet gently. ‘Dana, I cannot fight that many magicians. You know that.’

‘This cave. They can’t see it, can they?’

Her breath brushed my cheek like a puff of wind. ‘That is right. It is a no-place. A good place for hiding.’

‘So why did you send Will ahead?’

‘Their trail pulls the army onwards. Their magic workers will be straining to guide the army to their prey, but they will not see us, lurking in the cave like bats.’ She stood up. ‘I need to weave a net, child. Watch for me.’

She settled onto her saddlebags. In the dim light of the cave she seemed to be reclining on a sofa. Her breathing calmed in a most irritating fashion. I was to squat on a rocky, dusty cave floor while my tutor drowsed and Will fled into danger? Such inaction is not my way. I did not want to be hiding in this dry darkness while outside an army searched for Will.

But N’tombe danced to drums I could not hear and to go against her wishes would be foolish. I sighed. I would have to do as she said; watch over her, wait and hope.

Crossly, I gathered up my own saddlebags and settled onto them, trying to pretend that I was not in a dry and dusty cave but on my bed; that the hazy light above me was filtered through curtains, not forest leaves. N’tombe breathed heavily and stirred, the horses munched and sighed, and a light breeze blew through the forest outside. Somewhere, a brook trickled. Inside the cave all was quiet. It was as though this place existed outside of normal time.