First Comes The One Who Wanders (28 page)

"I don’t have any other choice. He's bound to stop you if he must."

"It's good to know there is someone who'll try if I fall prey to Rengailai and the Dark Lord. I'd hope that you would stand with him."

"I would hope that too," said Joshuas under his breath.

They followed Erion as best they could. The elf was doing his best to go slow for them. Joshuas helped Leilas over another fallen tree and turned to find Erion signaling for silence. Leilas crouched and moved forward. Joshuas followed.

Spreading the branches, which were hiding them, slightly, they looked out to see what Erion had discovered. It was a horrific sight. Joshuas felt his stomach turn in revulsion. A hundred crafters lay dead, arms were torn from bodies, faces had been hacked until the man couldn’t be recognized. Bodies lay in positions that were as grotesque as they were unnatural. Those who weren’t dead were begging for someone to kill them, or screaming in pain, or screaming out the madness that had claimed their minds. Their tortured bodies ruined beyond repair. The black clouds were swirling madly around the massacre. Joshuas started to move down toward the men, but Leilas stopped him. Erion also stayed his ground, a fierce expression on his face. What did they see that he didn’t? He took a closer look. It seemed that whoever did this to these crafters was gone. If any of the crafters had survived, they were also gone. Only the dead and dying remained. But he was willing to give his two companions the benefit of the doubt.

After what seemed an eternity of watching, Leilas began to chant. Softly at first, then she began to sing the invocation louder. Slowly, the clouds began to still then dissipate. Slowly the look of pain left Erion’s face. Leilas chanted for several moments longer then fell silent. She reached out and touched Erion’s shoulder. "Are you all right?" she asked the elf.

He appeared dazed and Leilas began to sing again for a few more minutes. Looking in his eyes again when she stopped her song, it appeared she was satisfied with what she saw.

"Thank you," he said softly, in elvish.

"You’re welcome," replied Leilas.

"I’m sorry I doubted you."

"Perhaps in these times, it's good to be wary." Leilas smiled wearily. "Now we can go see what we can do to save these men. But I fear they are lost."

Erion nodded and began picking his way lightly down the hill. Leilas followed hesitantly behind him and Joshuas brought up the rear, wondering what had just happened. They passed dozens of men lying twisted, their faces frozen in terror. Unfortunately, Joshuas had seen scenes like this before in the Crafter Wars. There were some evils good men could not bear to see. The torture and mutilation occurred after the terror. His jaw working in anger, Joshuas walked through the smoke and destruction. He was intent on finding one man. Leilas and Erion stopped from time to time and stooped to help one of the wounded. Invariably, they ended up fighting them and killing them before they could help them. The men were crazed from terror and pain. It was a duty Joshuas had performed more often than he wanted to remember. And although Leilas had impressed him with her healing, there was no help for anyone here.

He continued through the carnage, trying to keep his anger and need for revenge at bay. There was no sign of Gidron Frey. Had whoever done this taken him with them as a trophy? Or, had he escaped? Had he done this to these men? In any case, Frey should have to pay for what happened here and for all the other scenes like this that were coming.

Assuring himself Frey wasn’t among the dead, Joshuas joined the others. "Were there any who could be saved?" Leilas shook her head wearily. Erion echoed the motion.

"We should collect their insignia, collect wood and sing the death song for them," said Erion.

"I’ll move the bodies," said Joshuas, taking the worst job for himself. "The two of you go build a pyre."

Leilas and Erion moved off, bending to pick up wood along the way. Joshuas grabbed a crafter underneath the arms and moved him to the center of the dead camp. Taking loose the clasp that held his cloak, he turned to the next. It was a grim business and took the three of them the rest of the night and most of the next morning to complete. The men had been placed side to side and head to foot. The wood had been stacked around them. Erion and Leilas began to sing as Joshuas lit the pyre. They sang until the fire sank down into embers. Then covering the embers with dirt, they rummaged among the rubble in the camp to find anything of value. But there was nothing to find. There was nothing left but a cemetery. Without looking back, they turned in the direction of Dirth and the School of Sky.

Erion easily found a path through the forest to the road. There was no sign of a large army passing their way. But they'd been almost a day taking care of the dead. Where were the Dredracians?

"Perhaps they aren't marching on Dirth as we'd suspected," said Erion, looking in all directions for any sign.

"Then where?" asked Leilas.

"The masters might be able to tell us when we reach Dirth," said Joshuas. "We should be there in two days if we aren’t delayed."

"On the road?" asked Leilas doubtfully. She wasn’t sure it was safe to travel the road.

"It’s as safe as anywhere else, Leilas," said Joshuas, touching her shoulder gently. "If the army is as big as you claim and they're coming this way, it'll be impossible to fight and difficult to hide. Staying ahead of them is our only hope. If they aren't headed this way, then haste is our best course of action."

Reluctantly, Leilas agreed with him. But she wasn’t sure she was ready to face people again. It seemed an eternity since she'd stayed in Dirthstone Manor and it wasn’t home anymore. With a sadness she hadn’t expected, she realized she didn’t have a home. Neothera was as close as she had and that wasn’t any place to call home, except for the fact that Solein was there. Leilas touched the silver ring on her finger. That, at least, was proof that Solein and Neothera were real.

Erion showed no signs of tiring, nor did Joshuas. Leilas felt as if she were moving forward on sheer willpower. They hadn't stopped to rest or eat since early the night before. Still, she didn’t complain and did her best to keep up. She was no match for the elf and the crafter. Most of her energy had been expended getting out of the tunnels of Crysalis. What little she'd gained with her meal the night before, she'd expended burying the dead.

Joshuas and Erion seemed unaware, or unconcerned, that she kept slipping further behind. At one point, they were so far ahead she lost sight of them when they rounded a turn in the road. Leilas just tucked her head and kept putting one foot in front of the other. Catching her foot on a stone, Leilas fell forward and landed on her hands and knees. She didn’t try to get up. It was too much effort. Instead, she closed her eyes.

"You are more trouble than I’ve had to deal with in a long time," whispered Joshuas fiercely in her ear as he picked her up and held her in his strong arms. She could hear him speaking to Erion, but it was too much trouble to decipher what they were saying. Laying her head against Joshuas’ chest, Leilas gave in to the need to rest.

She awoke to the smell of roasted rabbit, wild onions and turnips. It smelled like a feast. Pushing herself to a sitting position, she looked to see where they were. Erion and Joshuas had entered the forest again and had settled them in a small dell. Their location protected them from prying eyes but Leilas wasn’t sure they'd be protected from hungry stomachs smelling the tempting food. It was late in the day. Shadows were already deepening into night in the wood.

"Is that ready, yet?" she asked, her stomach rumbling in anticipation.

"Almost," replied Erion. "It will be by the time you return from getting the water. Leilas laughed at the less than subtle hint and went in the direction of rushing water, pail in hand. Taking a minute to refresh herself, she washed in the stream, splashing water on her face and taking a long drink. Then dipping the bucket in the stream, she started back.

As promised, the food was waiting on pieces of bark for them to eat. Joshuas’ food was there, but Joshuas was nowhere to be seen. "He is doing some scouting," said Erion, when he caught her looking around. "He should be back shortly. Are you rested now?"

"Yes, much better now, thank you." Leilas took the food and shoveled it into her mouth as quickly as she could. Not very ladylike, she thought. Then she thought of all the banquets where they'd been constrained to eat genteelly, small morsels, chewed slowly. She smiled, but didn’t slow down until the food was almost gone and her stomach had stopped protesting its empty state.

"We should have asked when you'd last eaten a good meal. Joshuas’ small bit of venison must have seemed a trifle."

"It has been awhile," said Leilas, around a mouthful of turnip. "This is heaven."

Erion smiled at her obvious enjoyment of the simple fare. "We thought we could make up our lost time tonight, if you're able."

Leilas felt a pang of guilt and put the bone she was gnawing down. "You should have left me behind and continued."

"I couldn't do that and Joshuas wouldn't," replied Erion.

Leilas felt herself blush a little at her insensitivity. She needed to remember the training she'd received from her mother on etiquette. Although elves rarely involved themselves in human affairs, they never left them to die if they came across them wounded or dying. Joshuas had given his word to Master Manchu. He came looking for her as he said he would.

"Forgive me. I seem to have lost my manners somewhere along the way. I thank you for taking care of me and yes, I think I'll be able to go on now."

Erion bowed stiffly in acknowledgment of her apology then turned to begin cleaning up the campsite. Leilas joined him and soon there was almost no sign they'd been there. Wrapping her cloak around her to keep off the cold now that the heat of the fire was gone, Leilas waited in silence with Erion for Joshuas to return.

"You must tell me sometime how you came to be wearing the cloak and crest of a Sea master and the colors of the Land crafters."

"It's quite a combination, isn’t it," replied Leilas. "The cloak I borrowed from a master who no longer had a use for it."

"His sword and axe as well?"

"Yes. I found him dead in the tunnels of Crysalis. I don’t know who he was or even what he looked like."

"The sword and axe were given to Master Styphan after the Crafter Wars. I'm grieved to learn he's dead. He was a good man."

The elf fell silent and so did Leilas. It had been better when she didn’t know the name of the dead master. "I'll return the sword and axe to his people when we reach Dirth."

"I'd be honored to make that journey with you, if I'm not compelled to go elsewhere."

"As I would be honored to have you accompany me," returned Leilas.

"If we’re done with the mutual admiration, I’m starving," said Joshuas, striding into the cold camp. Leilas brought his dinner to him on its piece of bark.

"What did you find, my friend?" asked Erion, as Joshuas stuffed meat, onion and turnip into his mouth.

"They appear to be heading for Andresia," said Joshuas, around a wad of food.

"That gives us some time then, though they'll be stronger when they do finally come."

"Master Frey will pay for this, that I promise," snarled Joshuas. Then he fell silent, intent on eating. Leilas had been echoing those same sentiments all day, but to hear it voiced aloud sounded wrong.

"What was so important about that book, that he would risk everything to have it?" asked Leilas.

"Don’t know what book, so how am I supposed to know?" replied Joshuas.

"Is he always this brusque, or is it something he reserves for me?" Leilas asked Erion.

"He is always grumpy," replied Erion, hiding a smile. "At least, he has been for as long as I've known him."

"I guess that makes me feel a bit better," remarked Leilas, somewhat mollified she wasn’t being singled out. "The book is–, let me see if I can focus on it." Leilas closed her eyes and revisited her vision. "The School of Land is in ruins, Master Frey in the middle of the ruins. It's a dull, red book, smaller than most. It's thick with wrinkled pages, as though it has endured much and survived. On the front, there are three runes. One is a circle with a cross that thickens at the ends. The next is a triangle with a bird sitting at the top. Lastly, there is a rune with a cross, inside a circle, inside a square." Leilas opened her eyes. "Does that sound familiar?"

Both Joshuas and Erion were frowning. Leilas looked between them as they sat in silence. "So, you recognize the book. Would you care to tell me about it?"

"It sounds like the Book of Rengailai," replied Erion.

"Not a good book then," Leilas surmised from her experience with the crafter. "The School of Land was probably where it belonged. Why take it?"

"It's said to contain some of the oldest, most powerful magic left in Preterlandis. Most crafters understand they're not strong enough to control it and leave it alone."

Leilas rubbed her forehead wearily. "Oh Gidron, what have you done?"

"Gidron Frey has betrayed his vows, the School of Sky, the guild of crafters and Preterlandis," said Joshuas condemningly. "If we don’t stop him, he'll destroy them as well."