First Comes The One Who Wanders (56 page)

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Brenth led the first of the people through the tunnel opening at the crafters’ signal. He rose into an eerie fog to be greeted by a crafter who pointed the way. He led the people across the road and onto the path they should follow, then went back to supervise the exodus of the rest of the people. He stopped momentarily when the earth began to shake. The fog began to dissipate as the crafters stopped speaking the spell, their faces blanching when they realized what was occurring. Then collecting themselves, they reestablished the mist and urged the people through.

"What's that?" Brenth asked one of the crafters who was helping to direct the people.

"That's a great crafter making a supreme sacrifice," replied the crafter with tears in his eyes.

"What do you mean, supreme sacrifice?" asked Brenth, his concern raising the tenor of his voice.

"Joshuas and his men will drain all their energy with this spell. It's ancient and powerful and takes a great deal of strength. Even if they don’t die while speaking the spell, they’ll have no way to defend themselves when they've depleted their energy. The enemy will find them and finish them."

We must find them first then," said Brenth, as the earth continued to shake. He could hear the concern in the peoples’ whispers as they climbed through the hole and ran toward the mountain.

"We must help the people to safety." Gregory stepped up behind Brenth. "That's what Joshuas would want us to do. That's why he sacrificed himself. Not for you or I to play hero."

Brenth closed his eyes to hold back the tears. He knew Gregory was correct. But Joshuas was his friend and protector. How could he just abandon him? Gregory leaned closer to Brenth and whispered loudly. "A king must learn to sacrifice."

Brenth looked up in surprise at Gregory’s words. Gregory cocked an eyebrow at him. "Not only Menas have the ability to see the future," he said, and smiled. "Now let’s get these people to safety, while we've been afforded the opportunity."

The shaking stopped and there were loud snapping sounds. A quiet descended, but only for a few minutes, then the screams began to drift in their direction. Brenth urged people to continue moving. He traveled the route, ensuring that the people were moving in the proper direction, listening to their complaints and requests. The fog kept the scene of the destruction on the battlefield from their eyes.

Duke Cheran arrived at dusk and told the crafters they didn’t need the fog anymore. By midnight, the last of the people climbed out of the tunnel.

Brenth stopped Adrian as they were crossing the road, bringing up the rear. "What of Joshuas?"

"We couldn’t find him or any of the crafters with him. We looked as long as we were able." Brenth nodded his head in silence. The fact that they weren’t found dead, didn’t exclude hope that they might still be alive, somehow.

The large ragtag group of survivors from Kyris kept moving until noon the next day. By then, the last of the group had reached the first mountain fortification. Those who'd been chosen to stay in this location broke off from the group. After eating and resting, the others began the trek to the next location.

Brenth and Adrian kept the group moving as quickly as they could. The heart of their plan was to disperse the people as soon as possible. The survivors would make their homes in these abandoned mountain fortifications. From there, they could launch raids and skirmishes against the enemy.

It was in effect accepting defeat with resistance. They would teach the children to follow the light, fight and they would pray the Chidra succeeded and that when she did, the tide would turn back in their favor.

When they reached the last fortification, they were greeted by a group of armed men. Brenth looked at Adrian in surprise. The last he'd heard from the Menas, this fortification had been abandoned.

"What business?" growled one of the armed men.

Brenth signaled to the soldiers in their group not to react. This didn’t have to be a bloody confrontation. Brenth motioned to the people in his group. "These people are looking for a place to stay. We'd heard this fortification was abandoned.

"You heard wrong," said the spokesman. "There've been people here for hundreds of years."

"I can see that my information was faulty," replied Brenth. "Do you think we could rest here until we decide what we should do now? These people are tired, hungry and thirsty."

The man looked over the group, eyeing the swords suspiciously. Brenth saw several shake their heads in the negative. A young girl with raven-black hair, milk-white skin and blue eyes walked up to the spokesman. "Is this any way to greet visitors father, especially men of nobility such as these? You must excuse my father, my lord," she spoke to Adrian in a voice that would melt the hardest of hearts. "Since the Dredracians have begun to creep through the mountains, the men are suspicious of everyone."

"I can't blame them, my lady," replied Adrian, "especially if I had a daughter as beautiful as you to protect." Brenth found himself thinking much the same. She was indeed the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

"You're too kind, my Lord Cheran. Please come into our city and let your people rest. Are there any wounded among you?"

"A few minor injuries, nothing serious," replied Brenth.

"I'll look to them, after you're settled," she spoke to Brenth, and he felt himself go red.

"As you wish," he said gruffly.

Vanya glanced at her father defiantly, daring him to take back what she’d offered. He scowled, but lowered his weapon and turned away.

"Why do I think you'll pay for your kindness later?" asked Adrian, as she led them to the center of the fortification.

"Because I will," she replied simply.

"Then it's indeed a great kindness you've done for us,’ said Brenth. "Someday I hope we can return your favor."

Vanya cocked her head to the side as if listening to an unheard noise. "Perhaps someday you can, Brenth Leyson." Then she smiled. "Please make yourselves comfortable. When you're rested, I can show you the fortification the Menas said was abandoned. It's nearby."

"Vanya," her father called her name harshly. "You come here, now."

The girl looked at Brenth and Adrian. "I must go. I'll be back when I am able." She turned away in her father’s direction. Brenth was half-inclined to follow her and protect her from her father.

"Not a good idea," said Adrian, reading his expression.

"It’s a good idea," corrected Brenth, with a sheepish grin, "just not prudent."

Adrian laughed. The first laugh Brenth had heard from him since the retreat from Kyris. "Okay. I’ll give you that. She certainly is a beauty."

"But too young for you."

"Just right for you, though, I suppose."

"Perfect for me," said Brenth, seriously. Adrian raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.

It took some doing to settle the people down and explain the situation to them. Although they weren’t happy, they didn’t complain much and consoled themselves with warm fires and warm food.

Brenth shared his fire with Adrian as they waited for Vanya to return. He’d about given up on her when she sat down next to Adrian. Brenth wished she’d chosen him instead. "My father has graciously agreed to let you stay until morning," she said, in a more sarcastic voice than she'd used before. "He's also graciously agreed to let me show you the abandoned fortification."

"You must thank him for us," said Adrian.

Brenth had to wonder how graciously her father would accept their thanks.

"If you would be so kind, Duke Cheran," Vanya asked tentatively. "May I have a moment of your time, privately?"

Brenth tried not to register his surprise and disappointment at his dismissal. He’d been enjoying her company. Instead, he stood, bowed stiffly and walked away.

"I’m afraid I've offended him," said Vanya, watching him walk away.

"He's not so easily offended," replied Adrian. "What do you want to talk to me about?"

"My brother, Jakob," she turned back to Adrian. "He's a messenger in your employ."

"I’m afraid I don’t know every messenger who works for me," said Adrian. Her expression turned to disappointment. "But perhaps I can find out what you want to know."

Her expression lightened. "He was on his way to Madras, the last we heard from him. I thought he would be back by now. Yet, I haven’t heard from him."

Adrian rubbed his neck. "Let me see what I can find out and we'll talk again in the morning."

Vanya bowed gracefully. "I'm most grateful, my lord."

"As are we," replied Adrian, returning her bow. Brenth watched the exchange from a distance, wondering what it was about. He didn’t have to wonder long.

"Do you have any idea who a messenger named Jakob might be?" asked Adrian, as he walked to where Brenth was standing.

"You sent him to Madras with Killian a while back," replied Brenth. "Killian sent him to follow Mandrak. He reported the situation to you personally."

"So he did." Adrian looked after the retreating figure of Vanya. "Have we heard from Jakob since?"

"No, my lord. We fear he's been captured."

"Not by Mandrak?" asked Adrian with dread.

"I can’t say, my Lord," replied Brenth.

Adrian rubbed his eyes wearily. "Not good news to give our hostess."

"Is Jakob her husband?" asked Brenth, his countenance falling.

Adrian smiled at his poorly veiled interest. "Brother," he patted Brenth on the shoulder. "You should go try and get some rest. Once we get these people settled, we have a lot of planning and traveling to do."

"Do you think Preterlandis will ever be the same as it was?" asked Brenth.

Adrian looked off into the distance. "No, it won’t be the same. But while we're alive there is always hope that we can return it to some semblance of what it was."

"And hope makes us what we are," said Brenth. "Good night, Adrian." Brenth walked to the far side of the camp where his men were sitting by the fire. He’d left five Menas with each group of people. There were only six of them left. When he left here he would be alone. The last of his men would stay here to help these people. He would travel between the towns, not calling any one place home.

Closing his eyes and pulling his blanket around him, Brenth tried to push his cares and worries out of his mind, but he didn’t succeed. Leilas’ revelations haunted him. He was the champion everyone was expecting to save them. He’d done a good job of that, he jeered. The people were hiding in holes and the whole of Solea was in the hands of the Dredracians. The first enemy they’d encountered, he’d chosen to avoid. Leilas had to be wrong. There was no way he was the Chosen One. Then there was the rest of what she'd said. He shook his head. He was the last son of Leyhan, who was the descendant of King Ley, the last good king of Preterlandis. That much was true. The fact that he'd be the next king of Preterlandis that was the part he was having trouble believing.

But on the other hand, Leilas had never lied to him. She was the Chidra, everyone believed that she was. As the Chidra, she'd named him as Champion and King, although few knew it yet. They'd decided not to usurp Adrian's authority so close to the first battle with the Dredracians. Brenth sighed in frustration. He went over this in his head every night and he never came any closer to accepting any of what Leilas said. But he would try to help the people. That he could do. If that was what the Champion was supposed to do, then maybe he could say he was the Chodra. But he never would, because he didn’t believe that was what the Champion was called to do.

Then there was that story about an amulet. He sat up knowing he wouldn’t sleep for a while. An amulet that would prove he was the king. An amulet no one remembered existed. Joshuas had been around during the time that Preterlandis was united. But he'd admitted, he’d spent quite a few of those years in a tavern, drunk. Joshuas had offered to do some research on it for him. He’d declined the offer. The crafter had been busy with other problems and Brenth didn’t want him to think it was anything important.

Rolling his head slowly, Brenth tried to relieve the tension in his neck. He’d never expected to lose Joshuas. Only Gregory calling him to his duty had kept him from going after his friend. Perhaps if he’d ignored Gregory and gone after the magik, he might be here today. How did he tell Leilas the man she loved was dead? Hadn’t she suffered enough? Brenth closed his eyes again. He needed to stop thinking and rest. He couldn’t change what Joshuas had done. He couldn’t change how Leilas felt and he couldn’t change who or what he was. So, doing his best to still his mind, he tried to sleep.

He didn’t know when he fell asleep, but morning came too soon. The people around him began to stir, making fires and soon the smell of food had him moving, as well. Adrian was waiting for him when he’d finished his breakfast and went looking for him.

They enjoyed the morning in silence while they waited for Vanya to return. Brenth spent the time in the meditation his mother had taught him to practice since the time he was a young boy. The morning moved toward noon and still the young woman didn’t come.

"Now what?" asked Adrian, munching on the food one of the families had provided. Brenth finished his recitations and grabbed a piece of bread. Chewing on the hard rind he considered the question. "One of us will have to go find the abandoned fortification. Since Vanya seems to prefer you more than me," he smiled deprecatingly, "if she does happen to show up. That leaves me to go looking." He stuffed one of the small potatoes in his mouth and rose." "Hopefully, the men of the city don’t come to kick you out before I find it."