The Treason Blade (Battle for Alsaar Book 1) (25 page)

Rayne shook
his head and muttered. “She is still going strong. I have seen nothing that
would indicate any break from her ride.”

“She will run
that animal into the ground,” Gavin murmured.

“There is no
cover here,” Ber stated with a nod to the area around them. “She would want
that for a defensible position if she was found. That is why she has kept
moving.”

“Besides, be
grateful if she runs the creature lame,” Kagon growled. “It will mean less
riding on our part and the girl back at the holding before her father arrives.”

Traevyn
flicked a glance his way. “If you are assuming she will ever so sweetly run
into our arms,” he stated in disgust, “I am afraid you are bound for
disappointment. She will do whatever it takes to avoid us and we will need all
the help we can get if she makes it to the mountains. Ishar has moved among
them for many years in the war with the Lute. There she will have the
advantage, not us.”

“One girl?”
Kagon scoffed.

Many of the
other Raanan warriors glanced at one another and grinned. Kagon frowned at
their smiles as Traevyn replied softly, “No. One
warrior,
and a clever and quick one at that. If you are not careful, Kagon, I fear she
will lead you on a merry chase indeed,” he murmured at the Raanan’s fierce
scowl.

It was
Lysandr who broke their dispute. “We will rest here next to the river.”

Traevyn
frowned. “The trail is warm. She had to have taken a rest sooner or later. Let
us use the advantage. We may well come upon her close by.”

“We have traveled
nearly all day. If she stopped somewhere, it is for the same reason we have.
Our horses need rest before they can continue on or it is they who will come up
lame and not hers. What good will that
be
for Varyk?
He waits anxiously for us to return, and quickly.” Lysandr sighed and rubbed a
hand across his face. “Do not worry. I do not intend a lengthy stay. Hobble,
feed and water the horses and grab some rest. We will move on in a few hours.”

Traevyn could
see Davaris and Ber wanted to argue. He felt the same way, but all slipped from
their mounts and
begin
to loosen the straps of their
saddles.

*

Ishar opened
her eyes and looked around. It was still dark, she noted with relief, though
along the horizon she could see a glimmer of light. She stood and stretched.
The tightness in her left forearm was beginning to lesson, the pain from the
cut all but gone. Ishar reached into the leather bag and pulled out what was
left of the chunk of bread. She downed it with the water before rising. Ishar
took off the gelding’s hobble and gathered her meager belongings. Leading the
horse from the bushes she made her way to the river’s edge and let the animal
drink first before kneeling and cupping a handful to her mouth several times
and refilling the flask. Ishar wished there was time for a bath. The cool water
had wiped some of the sleep from her mind. A bath would have removed the rest.
Still, it was better than nothing. She mounted and turned toward up river. She
nudged the gelding with her heels and he broke into a canter.

*

The morning
was established when Glyndwr slid out from between the bushes. “She made a stop
here. I can see where she rested,” he commented.

“And there
are tracks along the water here,” Rayne said loudly from where he stood by the
river’s edge, speaking above the rush of water. “They are still fresh and
damp.”

Lysandr
nodded. “Then let us move. She still has time on us.”

Traevyn
stretched his shoulders and prepared himself for another day of riding as he
followed Lysandr and continued toward the high cliffs.

*

By afternoon
Ishar felt the drain the constant riding and worry had
produced.
The lack of saddle had not helped and her legs burned with a desire to feel
land beneath her feet, even as she navigated the beginnings of rocky terrain.
The boom of water could be heard off to her left as the ocean crashed against
solid rock walls. Ishar looked ahead. She longed to find a cave and lodge
within its confines for the extended rest her body craved. Ishar held the
gelding back to a slower pace as she picked her way through the uneven terrain.

Another hour
of riding brought her higher up into the mountainous region. The cliffs still
hung to her left and would for quite some time until she turned eastward and
crossed the Etu. After that the mountains would be steeper still. She longed to
be wrapped within the folds of her burda. Ishar had just contemplated whether
to stop and hunt for any form of food when a trickle of rock movement ahead had
her bring the brown gelding up with the reins. She looked with narrowed eyes at
the path before her and tightened her grip on the old dagger stuck within the
belt at her waist. A moment later a horse rounded and Ishar stared with shock
upon its occupant.

“Fenric,” she
said, surprised. “What brings you this way?” Ishar could not comprehend the
reason for the Haaldyn’s presence. “Did Audris get word to you somehow about
what way she would send me?” Her confusion grew at his solemn expression as she
attempted to grasp the implications. “But why would she not let me know to look
for you?” Ishar whispered, staring at her former swordmaster perplexed and
confused.

Fenric looked
on her with tight, wary eyes. The mare he rode fought his hand and jerked her
head from side to side as he tried to keep her straight on the trail. Fenric’s
mouth pursed. “I had hoped it would not come to this,” he sighed as he looked
on wearily.

Ishar stared
at him, puzzled. “That what would not come to this?” She recalled Fenric’s
visit, the words that had been spoken and looked for understanding from her
former instructor. “You had some idea that this might happen,” she said. “Why
did you not speak to me of it?” Tears lined her eyes as she pleaded with him.
“I would have done anything to prevent Eira’s death and the possible loss of
the peace.”

“There is
nothing possible about it,” Fenric stated with firm authority. “The peace will
not hold. War will come. Everything will be as it was meant to be before such
interference as Wyn helped your father bring about this abomination of unity.”

For a moment
she could not speak. The words Fenric spoke settled within her mind and she
fought with herself for the truth of their meaning.
Fenric?
It could not be. He was a loyal friend. Not just to herself but also to her
father. Ishar shook her head in denial. “What nonsense is this?” She asked with
a half-hearted smile, which quickly faded. “You are a personal friend of my
family,” Ishar said with disbelief and a growing anger.
“A
personal friend to me.
Why speak such words of treachery?” Her eyes
widened at the dawning realization.
“Eira?”
She said
in a horrified tone. “You attacked her. You killed her.” Ishar was repulsed.
She shook her head in denial. “You must know this will destroy the peace. There
will be no unified Alsaar. The Tourna will overwhelm this part of the island
and probably us as well.” Her eyes narrowed and she looked on with loathing.
“You fool. You have destroyed our future. And for what reason?” she demanded.

“Better we
face the Tourna alone than with such allies as the Lute,” Fenric spat out. “I
would never stand beside the people responsible for killing my son.”

Ishar drew
back at the venom in is voice. “And how many Lute sons have you killed?” she
cried with tears in her eyes as she shook her head in disgust. Her thoughts
took her back to the holding, that it had been Audris who let her go and sent
her to the mountains. Ishar was no fool. She recognized very quickly the trap
arranged for her and quietly studied Fenric. “So what happens now?” She eyed
the array of weapons around his waist and strapped to his back and tightened
her weary legs around the gelding in preparation. She was not yet certain of
her actions. Ishar only knew she had to be ready.

Fenric’s mare
snorted and danced sideways. It was apparent the horse did not like the rocky
terrain. Fenric grabbed the reins tighter and held back on the mare’s head as
he looked bleakly at Ishar. “I had hoped it would not come to this. We were so
certain the people of the holding would kill you when you returned from your
ride after they saw what happened to Eira.” He sneered. “But no. The warriors
under Varyk simply had you placed under arrest.” Fenric turned and spat on the
ground. “They show their weakness.”

“It shows
they are guided by wisdom rather than rage,” Ishar muttered. She tried to remember the path behind her.
Had there been any other trail leading off that she might take to elude Fenric?

Fenric
continued. “It was decided we could not wait to see what would happen if Eira survived.
Plans had to be made.”

“To ensure my
death,” Ishar concluded. “Is that what this was all about?” She nodded and
answered her own question. “Because you knew if Varyk was torn over Eira’s
death and my father over mine there would be little chance of unity. With
emotions high, it would not take long to destroy everything for which we worked
so hard.” Ishar held her head up and spoke with contempt, “I am surprised you
allowed yourself to work alongside a Lute to accomplish this.”

“We use dogs
to bring down great bears. She was nothing more than that,” he stated.” Fenric
reached up and drew his sword. “I am sorry, Ishar,” he stated quietly.

“Of what?
That you might have to actually kill me yourself?”
she asked angrily.

He shook his
head. “No, actually, I will not. I have friends who will see it is done in the
right manner and with the right precision to cause the most harm.”

Ishar heard a
clatter of hooves on rock behind her. She glanced behind and then looked with
Fenric with a shocked expression.
“More Haaldyn?
Or
are you willing to accept additional help from the Lute?”

Fenric held
himself stiff. He glared at Ishar. “In so many ways you are a child. I had
hoped you would grow out of this fantasy to which your father holds so tightly.
It will be his death one day,” he stated with contempt. “There are times we
must do things that are difficult. Ally ourselves with people such as the Lute
or others we would normally see as an enemy, just to get the job that we need
done. This is such a time.”

Ishar had not
thought her shock could grow deeper. She stared at Fenric and shook her head in
denial. “You would not. You would not ally yourself with the Tourna. They are
our sworn enemies,” she choked out. Behind her, the noise of horses grew
closer. Ishar was running out of options.

Fenric
shrugged. “They are the enemies of my enemy. Today that makes them my friends.”
He must have seen her agitation. “Do not try it. There is no where to run. They
surround this area on three sides. The ocean cuts you off on the fourth.” He
smiled sadly. “You cannot be allowed to escape to the north. That would destroy
everything and I have not gone to such trouble to let this opportunity slip
through my fingers.”

They had to
be almost upon them, Ishar realized. She gripped the reins tight and waited.
The next moment that Fenric’s mare fought him and the bit, Ishar kicked her
gelding hard. The animal responded with a frightened lunge forward. Fenric’s
mare had reared and was coming down when the gelding slammed into her, throwing
the mare off balance. Ishar heard Fenric utter a curse but refused to wait and
see what happened. She maneuvered the horse upward on the trail and listened
for the enemy she knew was lying in wait for her.

She noted in
relief that the trail widened as she moved ahead and jutted in several
directions. Ishar heard movement behind her and Fenric’s yell and knew he was
close on her heels. She spurred the horse faster. As she came to a fork, noise
to her right made her keep straight. Ishar continued on and when another rider
tried to cut her off, she veered left and followed a narrow path farther
upward. She tried not to wonder about her chances; they appeared too slim. She
just continued along the trail.

Her gelding
rapidly became winded, the ride of yesterday and today proving too much. He was
not a warrior’s mount, used to the steady movement and rapid turns from right
to left and back again that were required of a fighter’s horse. His sides
heaved and were covered in froth as was his mouth and front. Still, the gelding
obeyed her commands and moved at a dangerous run among the rocks. The trail
narrowed and the sides steepened. Ishar looked ahead and glimpsed an open spot
between the walls of rock. She urged the horse onward and out through the
opening. Rocky ground scattered with smatters of green greeted her, as did a
broad open ocean and ledge. Ishar looked around for desperately for another
trail to take but walls of rock were all she saw. She turned back toward the
opening, but it was too late. Riders quickly approached down the narrow shoot
she had chosen unwisely to follow. Ishar dismounted and led the horse to the
edge. She glanced over and swallowed. The water loomed large and dark and far
below.

Ishar turned
back. She kept the gelding’s body between her and the riders that now emptied
onto the ledge. All the men drew back their hoods. She saw only cold
indifference upon their faces. Fenric, she noted grimly, was one of them. None
of these Tourna wore the intricate tattoo markings upon their face that marked
many of their warriors for deeds committed in battle, but of course these were
men who had been specially chosen as spies who could blend among the Britai.