Quest for the Sun Orb (35 page)

***

Tomas ran as fast as he could, faster than he’d ever run before in his life, yet he felt as though he were trying to run in deep desert sand, as though the very earth beneath his feet and the air around him were trying to hold him back.  While he ran he cursed himself roundly.  For taking Tiari for a walk to the river the evening before, thus showing her how to get there.  For not placing a guard at the entrance of the tent with orders to prevent her from leaving on her own.  For letting her out of his sight for so much as a single moment.

Not long after entering the grove of trees between the river and the camp, he saw two white-faced servants running toward him.  “Screams,” they yelled as he flashed by them.  “A woman screaming down by the river.”

Tomas forced his legs to move faster as he raced through the tangled grove, cursing the trees for blocking his view of the river.  Branches slapped at him as he ran by, one slicing across his cheek, narrowly missing an eye, but he neither noticed nor cared. 
Faster
, he kept saying to himself, over and over. 
Faster
. 
Faster
.

The sound of the other Hunters faded as he outpaced them until he heard only the sound of his own boots hitting the earth, the air rasping harshly in and out of his lungs.  There were no screams now.  Was he too late?

He burst from the edge of the grove, his eyes going at once to the small, hunched figure kneeling on the ground near the water.  Alive, he told himself.  She’s alive.  But he did not stop running, did not stop fearing, until she turned her tear stained face toward him and he saw with his own two eyes that she breathed, moved, lived.

Tomas barely noticed the two bodies lying on the ground, one beside Tiari, the other behind her and a few feet away.  Whoever they were, they were dead and she was not.  Nothing else mattered to him in that moment. 

He threw himself to his knees beside her, his arms reaching out, grabbing hold of her, yanking her close to his chest where he held her tightly enough that he could feel her heart beat against him.  When she curled herself into his arms and pressed her face into his neck, he began to believe that maybe, just maybe, his world had not come to an end after all.

He heard Zakiel and the other men arrive in the clearing, heard orders given, knew when Zakiel knelt in front of him and waited, patiently.  Tomas took a deep breath and opened his eyes, unashamed of his tears as he faced his cousin.

“Is she all right?” Zakiel asked, his voice low and gentle.

Tomas’s heart skipped a beat.  Why had he not checked her for injuries already?  He leaned back and tipped Tiari’s face up so that he could look into her eyes.  “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, then turned her face into him again.  He tightened his arms around her and felt her sigh.  “She’s not hurt,” he told Zakiel. 

He glanced at the body closest to them and frowned.  It was difficult to tell through the dirt, but he thought it was the body of an old woman.  He saw the gold ring Tiari had worn, along with her bracelet and a knife lying on the rocks nearby, but none of it made sense to him.  Had the woman been trying to rob Tiari?  He saw no blood or wounds on the woman, though he had noticed Tiari’s blade sticking out of the body of the man behind him.  He looked at Zakiel in question.

“This is Una, Tiari’s aunt,” Zakiel said, remembering that Tomas had not been there when they’d met her the first time.  “Who that man is, I have no idea.”

Tomas turned so that he could see the man lying a few feet away.  Garundel had just turned the body face up, and they could all see and smell the blood that covered the man.  Garundel bent over the body, examining the wounds with a warrior’s eye.  Even from where he sat, Tomas could read the battle signs.  It was easy enough for experienced warriors to see what had happened.

The man’s sword, still gripped in one hand, and the shallow gashes across his abdomen testified that Tiari had tried to warn the man off before being forced to kill him with one strike to the heart.  Then her blade had become stuck and she’d been forced to face the second attacker, her own aunt, unarmed.  The position of the woman just behind Tiari, the knife on the ground beside her hand and the poison ring told the rest of the story.

They knew what had happened, but not
why
.  Only Tiari could tell them that, and she was in no condition to talk at the moment.  Tomas rose to his feet, careful not to jostle her too much, and paused beside the dead man.  He looked more closely at the wounds Tiari had inflicted, and the obvious size and strength of her opponent.  That she had been close enough to inflict those wounds with her small sword meant that she’d been well within the range of the man’s much longer weapon.  Tomas clenched his teeth so hard he thought they might crack as he turned and began walking back toward camp.

When he stepped out of the trees Karma and Kapia both came running toward him.  They must have seen something in his face because they both came to a sudden stop a few feet away from him.

“Tomas, is she all right?” Karma asked. 

He looked at her for a long moment, trying to decide how to answer that question without giving a long explanation that he simply was not capable of at the moment.  “She is not injured.”

Karma nodded, her eyes telling him that she understood.  “Come on,” she said, waving him forward.  “We need to find someone to hold her while you get mounted.”

Tomas pulled Tiari closer against him at the thought of someone else holding her, but he couldn’t mount with her in his arms.  When they reached his diplo he just stood there for a moment, uncertain what to do.

“Allow me, please, Sir Tomas,” Stiven said, coming to stand in front of him.  “I shall hold your lady most carefully for the time it takes you to get in the saddle.”

Tomas hesitated a moment, then nodded once before forcing himself to hand Tiari into the other man’s arms.  He leapt into the saddle, then reached down for her, allowing himself to breathe only when she was safely back in his keeping.

“I thank you,” he said to Stiven, who nodded solemnly and returned to his own diplo. 

“She’ll be all right, Tomas,” Karma said.  “Just let us know if she needs anything.  Anything at all.”

“I will, Karma, thank you,” Tomas said.  He watched Kapia and Karma walk away with some relief.  He almost smiled when he overheard Karma tell Kapia that he was being so quiet because he was probably in shock, that they would learn what had happened when the others returned.

He wasn’t in shock.  Well, he conceded silently, maybe a little bit.  The entire episode had shocked him.  But that wasn’t why he was silent.  He was silent because he was furious.  No, not furious.  He was so far beyond furious he couldn’t think of a word for it. 

Tiari had gone alone, completely
alone
, to the river, which she should never have been doing to start with.  That was the first thing.

She’d been accosted by two filthy, disgusting specimens of humanity while doing nothing more offensive than filling a bucket with water.  That was the second thing.

One of her attackers was her own flesh and blood.  That was third.

The other attacker was a man many times Tiari’s weight, and many more times her strength, and yet he had attacked her with a sword.  That was fourth.

While Tiari fought that brute of a man, her own aunt tried to stab her in the back.  That was fifth.

But sixth, seventh, and a hundred and seventh was the fact that Tiari had struck two
non-lethal
blows in an attempt to avoid killing the man who had clearly been threatening her.  Why?  Why would she take such a risk with her own life?  Did she not understand her own importance to him?  To the world?  Did she want to die? 

Tomas sat motionlessly, giving no sign of the thoughts that chased each other through his mind.  He felt Tiari’s trembling body slowly relax against him as she slept.  He lowered his head and pressed his lips to the top of her head, heedless of watching eyes. 
Let them watch, let them talk
, he thought.  He didn’t care.  He could have lost her today.  He nearly
had
lost her. 

He felt her shift restlessly in his arms and realized he was holding her too tightly.  He relaxed his arms, just a little, and stared down into her face.  He shifted her weight slightly so that he was holding her with one arm and looked up, searching for either Lashi or Caral.  When he caught Lashi’s eye, he gestured to her.  She immediately guided her diplo to him. 

“Yes, Sir Tomas, how may I help?” she asked.

“A damp cloth for her face, please, if that’s possible,” Tomas said in a low voice, not wanting to awaken Tiari.

“Of course, Sir Tomas,” Lashi said, reaching for a bag hanging from her saddle.  Tomas watched as she removed a clean cloth and a water bag, dampened the cloth, and handed it to him along with a dry one.

“Thank you, Lashi,” he said, dismissing her.  He used light, gentle strokes to clean the tears and dust from Tiari’s face without waking her.  Zakiel and the other Hunters returned just as he finished.

“Here is her sword,” Zakiel said, holding the weapon, now cleaned of blood, up to him.  Tomas took it and slid it through a loop on his saddle. 

“Thank you, Zakiel,” he said.  “Did you find anyone else?”

“No, but we found their camp, such as it was.  There was nothing to tell us why they did what they did.”

“Tiari may be able to tell us when she awakens,” Tomas said.

“I will leave that to you,” Zakiel said, then held up Tiari’s bracelet and ring.  Tomas took those as well, checking to be sure that the fangs on the ring had been retracted before putting them into his vest pocket. 

“Do you wish to wait here another day?” Zakiel asked, glancing up at the sky.

Tomas followed his gaze, reminded suddenly of the wet weather coming their way.  “No, I don’t think that’s necessary,” he said.  “If Lashi or Caral will bring me Tiari’s cloak, I will be sure she remains dry.”

“If you change your mind, let me know,” Zakiel said.

Tomas nodded and watched his cousin walk over to Lashi, then move up the line to Karma.  Tomas returned his attention to Tiari, and what he would say to her when she awoke.

***

Bredon stood beside his diplo, staring at the enormous wall of gray fog that stretched as far to the east and west as he could see.  It reached so high into the sky that, even from a distance as he approached it, he’d been unable to see where it ended.  If he hadn’t been able to see the slow swirling of gray within gray as the air moved sluggishly through the ominous fog, he’d have guessed it to be a wall of solid stone.  The road he stood upon, an overgrown rock lined path barely visible after centuries of disuse, led straight into the fog, appearing to end abruptly the moment the two touched. 

So this was Darkly Fen.  Bredon shuddered with foreboding.  Once he stepped within that gray morass, he was in no-man’s land.  From Worrow, Zakiel, Nikura, and Marene, he’d been told there were demons in there.  Other than that, he knew nothing of what to expect. 

He looked up at the sky, measuring the sun.  It was not quite noon.  Should he venture in?  Or should he wait till morning?  His timing had been a bit off.  He’d expected to reach Darkly Fen by the end of the previous day’s travel, so when he’d spoken to Kapia last night, he’d had nothing to tell her about it.  Now he wondered if she would be able to speak to him once he entered Darkly Fen.  Somehow, he doubted it. 

He did not like the idea of camping within that fog.  He’d gathered as much light, dry wood as he thought his diplo could carry and tied it into unwieldy bundles that he’d hung from his saddle.  Now he wondered if he would even be able to light a fire in there.  He’d never seen a fog so thick and heavy.  There was a
wrongness
about it that he could not name, but could feel nevertheless.  Maybe he should wait and start the following morning.  One more night shouldn’t make much difference.

On the other hand, Zakiel had said that it appeared to be at least three days journey from the edge to the center, judging solely by the size of Darkly Fen on the charts.  If the trail was full of twists and turns, there was no telling how long it would take.  No matter when he entered, he was facing several days and nights within Darkly Fen’s borders. 

“Marene,” he said, nudging sharply at the dark entity in one corner of his mind.  “Awaken.”

“What do you want?”
Marene asked, irritable as usual. 

“We have reached Darkly Fen,” he said.

Marene was instantly alert, both excited and wary.  His careful probes and nudges over the past few days had been more successful than he’d hoped.  He occasionally got thoughts, sometimes memories or dreams.  He always knew her true emotional state now, regardless of what she pretended.  He hoped to unlock her mind soon.  Preferably before they reached the center of Darkly Fen and her ultimate goal. 

“Well, what are you waiting for?”
she asked in a bored tone, hiding her excitement.  Or so she thought.

“I’m waiting for you to tell me what to expect once I enter that,” he replied.

“Nothing to worry about, I assure you, brave Hunter Knight.”

Bredon barked a laugh at her jibe in an attempt to hide his real reaction to the thought he’d just gotten from her. 
The demons had been ordered away from the southern path.

Bredon double checked his food and water supplies.  A large, tightly bound bundle of fodder for the diplo rode behind the saddle on the animal’s rump.  He had no idea if there was grazing within Darkly Fen or, if there was, if it would be safe for the diplo to eat, so he’d spent the previous morning gathering the tall, wild grain in a valley he’d come across.  Marene had told him he was wasting time, but now that he saw the reality of what he must enter, he was doubly glad he’d taken the trouble. 

“It would help if you gave me an idea of what we’ll face in there,” he said, not wanting Marene to know he’d gleaned the truth from her mind.  “After all, if I die, you do as well.”

“
Why do you say that?”
Marene asked suspiciously.