Harvest of Dreams (The Gods' Dream Trilogy) (19 page)

He fell into step beside her. “I’ll walk you back to the guest…egg.”

She laughed. “I’m sure that’s not the real name.”

“But it fits, doesn’t it?”

She just shook her head at him.

They strolled in companionable silence for a while before Tharon said casually, “You wouldn’t know, hearing about our recent history, that Kimtair is mostly a peaceful world.”

“You’re right,” she quipped. “I wouldn’t know it.”

“We don’t have a long tradition of warfare. Our fighting style developed for sea battles with the reavers. Our enemies, or so we thought, were the scum of the sea who harried our ships, although they mostly left Seagem’s vessels alone, fearing retribution from Yadarius, SeaGod. We fight…fought at sea and very rarely on land near our harbor.”

That explains why the men aren’t better fighters.

“The seadogs belonged to no God or Goddess.” Tharon paused, falling silent, a thoughtful look on his face. “They belong to
Ontarem
.” He whirled as if planning to rush away, took a step, then stopped. Slowly, he turned back, a desolate look in his eyes. He rubbed his hand over his face. “I stepped back in time for a moment…as if the battle for Seagem had never occurred. My first thought was to enlist Yadarius’ aid against the seadogs. I was hastening to tell this discovery to my father and from him to King Iceros.” His shoulders drooped. “They’re both dead, but live so strongly in my mind.”

Sadie thought of Bubby, of her father. “I’m sorry for your loss. Your losses,” Sadie amended. “My parents are dead…my grandmother….”

Tharon opened his mouth as if to say something, gave a slight shake of his head, and closed it. He gestured toward the sabres in an obvious attempt to change the subject. “Tell me more about these long stingers you use.”

Sadie rode with the change. She knew how hard talking about grief was. “My sabres, stingers as you call them, come from a sport called fencing. At one time the blades were real weapons. They could cut and pierce.”

“Stingers indeed,” he murmured.

“Where I come from, we no longer fight with swords. We have…far more lethal weapons that kill from a distance. However, some people still practice with swords...for sport. Although it’s rare.” She made a wry face. “They play at living during older, more primitive times. They use longer swords than you do.” She measured the distance with her hands. “Those are the ones I’m used to. Some, called broadswords, are much wider as well.”

“Interesting. I wonder if we should have longer swords made?”

“Where do you think we’ll be fighting? On land or sea?” Even as Sadie spoke, she realized the gravity of what she was saying.

Tharon gave a slow shake of his head. “I don’t know. But Yadarius is missing, and we’ll need to find Him.”

“How can Yadarius be missing?”

He shrugged. “No one knows, not even Withea and Guinheld. However, I imagine He’ll be in or near the ocean. I doubt even Ontarem’s powers could drag the SeaGod far inland. Where ever He is, He’ll be guarded by ships.” His expression grew thoughtful. “Perhaps that’s how we’ll find Him, by looking for the reavers.”

“We call them pirates on my world.”

“Pirates. Reavers. Seascum. All the same.”

She tapped the sword in his scabbard. “I think you should stick to the sword size you’re familiar with. You said there’s not much training time, and you’ll probably be fighting on a ship anyway.” She stopped and swallowed hard as a realization came to her. “
We’ll
be fighting on a ship.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Indaran stood on the rocky beach, watching the longboats row out from the ships, bringing soldiers, supplies, and some of the former captives to the shore. His stomach hurt, and his muscles felt stiff from clenching so hard. Crossing back into Ontarem’s territory, even with the faint feeling of Arvintor’s protection, was the hardest thing he’d ever done. The whole time they sailed on the black-green waters, he kept expecting Ontarem to clamp down on him and take over his mind and body.

Even now, Indaran couldn’t help feeling a sense of being watched, and he wondered if Ontarem’s soldiers gathered on the edge of the cliff, ready to capture them. Just the thought of being dragged back to Louat to feed Ontarem made Indaran’s stomach turn and weakened his legs. He’d learned, to his great regret, that some things even a strong warrior couldn’t battle. He amended the thought. Battle and
win
. He’d certainly battled Ontarem for years.

But now he had a fight to prepare for. They needed to get everyone and the supplies up the cliff before Ontarem’s soldiers arrived—if they weren’t already waiting.

Indaran picked out several of the strongest looking soldiers, waved them over, and questioned them about their climbing abilities. Then he ordered four to go grab the coils of ropes he had readied while on the ship and prepare to climb the cliff.

Jasmine stood next to him, holding her monga, who studied everything with bright, intelligent eyes. He could tell by Jasmine’s worried glances toward him that his mate was concerned, but thank goodness, she didn’t try asking what he was feeling. He didn’t know if that made her a wise woman—which she was—or perhaps she battled her own fears and, like him, didn’t want to admit them.

In addition to his reluctance to approach Ontarem’s territory, he worried for his new wife. Although he’d always had responsibilities to others, often people he cared about, no one else made him feel as vulnerable as Jasmine. Something bad happening to her would rip his heart out. He didn’t know whether the fact she was a healer and not a fighter was better or worse. She’d remain in safety while others fought, but if danger came to her, she would have little ability to defend herself.
Don’t think about that. Don’t!

His sister, he was glad to see, had stepped into a leadership role, ordering people this way and that and seeing to an efficient disembarking and unloading of supplies. Khan readily followed her orders, as did their people. The monkey-bats rode on their shoulders.
She will make a fitting queen of Seagem.

Indaran realized that except for those who’d originally sailed with him to Louat, the people from Seagem were far more familiar and comfortable with their princess than they were with him.
Especially since I’m the one that got us into this mess in the first place.

Watching Daria’s muscled, fit body and graceful balance, it was obvious to him that she’d become a warrior. The child who’d wanted to play with his sword had grown into a fighter who wore her own sword on her hip and could best him at the pas-sa-ra—at least for now. She had a quiver of arrows and a bow over her shoulder and a pack at her feet. He ached for all the lost years of not seeing her grow up.

When the last of the supplies had been unloaded, Indaran signaled to the captain to leave as soon as the longboat returned to the ship. He waved good-bye to Min, the priest of Yadarius, standing in the bow. He was to remain with the ship, staying in connection with Withea and Arvintor, so, when need be, the ship could be summoned to pick them up.

Khan unpeeled Shad from his shoulder and tossed the monkey-bat into the air. The animal flew up, following the finger Khan pointed to the top of the cliff. He hovered over a waterfall that spilled into the ocean.

The smaller monkey-bat on Daria’s shoulder leaped after him.

Indaran’s new brother shouldered his pack and strode over. “They’re going to reconnoiter and return and tell us what they see. They have orders to fly above spear shot.”

“They can do that?”

“They’re very intelligent. Know commands and can take visuals from my mind. They communicate with their tails and by making noises. I can sort of pick up impressions from them, too.”

“A good ally to have. Jasmine’s monga has also proven his worth. I wonder…” Indaran didn’t want to say the words out loud.

But Khan was adept at reading his expression. Or maybe the man could sense his thoughts or emotions. Perhaps both. “You wonder if they could remain free of the evil one’s compulsion, even if we were caught?”

“Yes.”

“Jasmine said her monga didn’t seem affected.”

“You’re right.”

Khan shaded his eyes, watching the flight of the monkey-bats. “Shad and Shir are pretty independent. They might flee for safety and later return and attempt to rescue us, or they might dive in and fight.”

In spite of his tension, Indaran had to smile at the thought.

Khan glanced up at the animals, a rueful expression on his face. “It’s hard to tell how much of my communication they understand, or what they chose to follow. I just want them to stay safe.” He paused. “Before I met Daria, they were my only companions, and before them, I was alone except for Withea. They mean a great deal to me. And, as you can see, my wife has become a favorite. Shir, especially, has attached herself to Daria.”

Indaran watched the animals fly toward the top of the cliff. “They’ll make good scouts.” He looked over his shoulder.

Daria scrambled nimbly over the rocks to join the three of them, her expression eager.

How can my little sister look so excited when I’m so miserable?

Everyone had disembarked from the ships. Without words, they picked up their weapons and packs and turned toward them.

One of the monkey-bats let out a screech and waved its tails.

“All clear for now,” Khan said.

“Climb quickly, but safely,” he called to the waiting people. “At the top, be prepared to fight.” He signaled for the first four soldiers to go.

~ ~ ~

As they scaled the cliff, Indaran could feel the strain in his arms and legs and knew Jasmine must be struggling. He kept a careful watch on Jasmine’s legs and backside, wanting to brace her if she slipped on the steep, narrow path, no more than foot and hand depressions, winding up the cliffside. If she miss-stepped and he couldn’t catch her, she’d fall to her death on the rocky shore below.

The possibility also existed that she’d slide right into him, knock him off his feet, and then he’d slip into Daria, causing her to fall on Khan, who’d careen into the person below him, and with each straining movement. So he stayed watchful to protect Jasmine as well as those below him.

Jasmine’s foot, in those strange rubber-soled shoes she wore, skidded a little, and his arm shot out to brace her heel before she slipped more than a few inches. She reached for another handhold and pushed off from his hand.

Her monga, Shareef, carried in a sack on her back, poked his head out of the opening and stared at Indaran with intelligent amber eyes. Shareef chittered, as if telling him to be careful.

Indaran risked a glance upward, relieved to see the first soldiers reach the top and crawl over. He strained to make out any sounds of shouting or the clash of weapons and felt relieved to hear only silence.

The monkey-bats had been right when they reported no one waiting for them.

He glanced down, and saw Anza near the bottom of the cliff, dangling from a rope tied under her arms, her feet planted against the side. They’d decided the Archpriestess didn’t have the strength for a climb, so they intended to haul her up the cliff instead with the same rope and pulley system they’d use for the supplies.

A round-face soldier leaned over the edge. “Men on horseback approach, your highnesses.”

He knew Ontarem’s army fought on foot, except for the officers.
Thank Arvintor, it’s the Che-da-wah.

With a grunt, Indaran shrugged his shoulders, attempting to shift the weight he carried. Before they’d left the ship, he’d gone with an othersense impulse and stuffed the cloth-wrapped helmet from Ontarem’s temple in his pack, and fashioned a scabbard for the spear. The soldier below Indaran had to allow extra space or he’d get the butt end of the spear in his face.

As Jasmine neared the top, the soldier peered over again, a worried look on his moon face. “The Che-da-wah have arrived, your highnesses,” he called. “They wait on horseback on the other side of the swamp. But Ontarem’s soldiers also approach!”

Indaran’s gut clenched, and he had to resist barking at the people above him to hurry. A hand reached over the side, grabbed a hold of Jasmine’s arm, and yanked her up and out of his sight.

A pang of alarm made him scramble up the rest of the way. Indaran was determined to stand between his beloved mate and danger.

~ ~ ~

Jasmine landed on her hands and knees, gasping for air. “Thank you,” she wheezed out to the soldier. She crawled a few feet away, turned, and sat back on her haunches, trying to catch her breath.

Shareef wiggled and protested.

“No, baby. You’re not getting out.”

Out on the dark water, she could see the ship heading out of Ontarem’s territory, sails full against the gray sky, and said a little prayer that the vessel would make it to freedom.

Indaran scrambled over the top.

A soldier grabbed him under the armpit and helped haul him to his feet.

“My thanks.” He took two big strides to Jasmine and lifted her to her feet, embracing her from the side, careful not to squeeze the monga. They held each other, both taking a few precious seconds to feel the wondrous gift of being together. Simultaneously, they parted, and then began to walk toward the marsh.