The Way of Things: Upper Kingdom Boxed Set: Books 1, 2 and 3 in the Tails of the Upper Kingdom (71 page)

Solomon was alive. Solomon was
close. The beginning of their quest, and its end. They could not contain their
eagerness.

Again, except for Kerris, who
rode ahead on Quiz and spoke to none of them all day.

The mountain pony had led them
onto an Ancient road, something they had only heard of and only Kerris had ever
seen. Ancient roads were known to be extremely dangerous – it was a
documented fact that some of those Ancient roads would erupt at the slightest
pressure, killing any thing that stepped upon them. By now, with the advanced
state of the Kingdom, most of those roads had been tested and found safe, or
abandoned in favor of new, tiger-made ones. So here, in this new land beyond
the border, an Ancient road was a raw and frightening thing. But Kerris on Quiz
did not seem deterred in the least, and so the others followed, grateful to be
on flat ground, even as the land was rising and falling all around them. It
made the terrain that much easier to negotiate, and when the sun began to set,
they were just as grateful when Kerris pulled his pony to a halt in a ravine
that was dotted with trees and echoed with the sound of rushing waters. Kirin
was beginning to fear his brother would ride forever.

“Right,” Kerris called as he
pulled the blanket from his pony’s back. “Tents up. Early night, early start,
and all that. Going to see if I can find some wood for the fire.” And he walked
off into the bluffs that flanked this ravine, swallowed almost immediately by
shadows.

Kirin sighed, and exchanged looks
with the tigress. She opened her mouth to speak but he held up a hand before
she had a chance and he trudged after his brother, also disappearing into the
bluffs.

He found him gathering a large
armful of sticks.

“Kerris…”

“Here,” said his brother, turning
but not looking. “Take these. I’ll grab another armful and we’ll have a bloody
good fire tonight.” And he pushed the sticks into his brother’s arms.

“Kerris.”

“It’s good to be back in the
mountains again. Plenty of water, plenty of game. We’ll be in good stead for
the rest of this journey if this keeps up.”

“Kerris, tell me.”

“I’m fine, Kirin. Just trying to
keep busy.” Still, Kerris had not looked at him.

The Captain dropped the wood and
reached out to take his brother’s arm.

“Kerris, last night—“

Kerris swung around. “I saw him,
Kirin. I saw Solomon. In your mind. In the Seer’s. I saw him. And he’s no
monkey.”

Kirin felt his heart sink. He had
kept the secret for longer than he had thought possible. It had only been
chance and misdirection that had kept any of them from learning it much
earlier, but then again, it is often amazing what people are willing to believe
if they have a strong misconception in place.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Kirin?
Why?”

“Kerris…”

His brother held up a grey
finger. “Don’t, Kirin. What you’re about to say - just don’t.”

Kirin nodded. He couldn’t blame
him. Couldn’t blame any of them, actually. There was no dishonor in being
wrong. Just in the handling of it.

“I’m sorry, Kerris. You are
right. Solomon is an Ancestor.”

Kerris stared at him for a long
moment, then took a step back and ran a hand through his hair. “How is that
possible?”

“I don’t know, Kerris. I found
out that night at the Inn…”

“That was a very long time ago.”

“Yes. It was.”

“So we are going to retrieve him
then?”

“Yes,” he lied.

“I wish you had told me.”

“And how would that have changed…
you?” The Alchemist’s words rolled off his tongue. He missed her.

“What?” Kerris glanced up now,
blue eyes glinting in the dimming light. He frowned again, cocked his head.
“You didn’t kill her, did you?”

Kirin set his jaw, stared at the
ground. “No,” he said finally. “I didn’t kill her.”

“You extend her far more courtesy
than you do me, brother.”

“Kerris, please.”

“You should have bedded her.”

“Kerris!”

“Then at least I could have
understood. But you toyed with the idea, set yourself to keep her from me, when
your heart wasn’t in any of it. You should have bedded her, then beheaded her.
But you were unable to do either.”

He sighed. “Please stop.”

“You kept this knowledge from me
the same way. There were many times you could have told me, but you didn’t. You
chose not to. You kept me swimming, feeding me just enough to keep me around. I
may not know Bushido, but I know that is certainly not honorable. Not by any
means…”

You have had many opportunities to do so on this journey.
His own
words to the Alchemist. Similar situation, same ethics. Choices made in the
name of duty. Perhaps they were not so different after all, he and she.

He realized that Kerris was
waiting. He had no words for his brother. None that would allow either of them
to save face, none that would preserve honor. In fact, he didn’t need to say
anything. Kerris knew him well enough.

“Never mind, Kirin,” he sighed.
“It doesn’t matter. None of this matters. Forget I said anything.” And his
brother pushed past him, bent to pick up the pile of firewood lying on the
stony ground.

“Kerris, Kerris please wait. This
has been difficult for me. It still is. I wish…“

But his brother did not heed,
merely bundled the sticks up in his arms.

“Kerris, what do you want from
me?”

“What do I want from you?” Kerris
froze, back still turned. He looked as if he were speaking to the rocks.“You
know, Kirin, that’s a damned good question. All I’ve ever wanted—“ He
stopped himself, released a breath, shook his head. “Never mind. I don’t think
I want it any more.”

And once again, Kirin
Wynegarde-Grey watched his brother turn and walk away, and once again, he was
left standing very much alone on a broken road in a greening land.

***

It is quite a sight when a herd
of horses chooses to hunt.

It was before dawn when they
began to grow restless, and quietly, they slipped away into the darkness. There
is always a leader, an alpha horse, and in this instance (as it had been in
every instance since that first morning on the road to
Sha’Hadin)
it was Quiz. One leader that scouts out the prey, leads
his herd to it, but in truth they work as a team and are almost as organized as
cats in their strategies. They roam and ramble, looking for all the world like
several animals just moving about in the same direction. Then, as the prey
begins to sense something, they snap to attention and become an arrow. A unit,
very much like an army. The attack is swift and lethal. They rush as a herd but
the killing blow comes as the lead horse barrels in from an unexpected
direction, and knocks the animal off its feet and to the ground. They proceed
to kill with blows from hooves and teeth. No wonder they are such good
soldiers.

The gazelle was almost as large
as Quiz and it took all of his strength to drag the dead creature back to the
early morning campfire. Kerris was on his feet in a heartbeat, praising his
pony and helping get what was left of it on to the fire. Roasted game is so
much better fresh. And so with bellies full of meat, dates and tea, they packed
up camp and headed back down the Ancestral Road.

They encountered the next sign of
Ancestors before noon.

Twisted and rusting carts of
metal had once been a common sight in the Upper Kingdom, as had the ruins of
Ancestral civilizations, but cats are notoriously good at reusing wasted
materials, and even more fastidious about safety and the cleanliness of their
surroundings. Cats are, after all, a fastidious people. So other than
Cal’Cathah, Phankoth
and
Old Dehlih,
there are very few places
where such ruins exist. Fallon Waterford had never seen such ruins, nor had she
seen anything like the twisted, rusting carts that were cropping up as
frequently as the trees now. It was fascinating, marvelous, but most terrible
at the same time, and she felt somehow sad, as if she were witnessing the death
of a living thing.

So for two days they traveled the
Ancestral road toward the ruined city of
Ana’thalyia,
where the Seer assured them that Solomon was waiting. They made good time on
this road, cracked and blistered as it was. It had obviously been carved out of
these mountains like those in the Upper Kingdom, providing the most efficient
routes around or through peaks and valleys. They did, however, take turns
keeping watch at night, for rats, Gowrain, and now dogs were a potential and
constant threat.

They also began to smell salt
water and when it finally came into view, far off and vast, Kerris was
convinced that this was the same western sea that bordered
Shiryia, Aegyp
and the Dead Lands in between. Kirin debated this,
but Kerris could not be swayed and when a rocky coastline came into view early
one evening, the debate picked up again.

There seemed no end to their
arguments.

The horses hunted again that
night and brought down a large boar. Now boars are dangerous for cat and horse
because of the tusks at the front and the spines along the back. But they make
fine eating, and are a prize for any meal. So, confident that they were near
the end of their quest, the party spent the morning roasting pig, drinking tea
and giving their horses some much needed rest.

Kerris and the Scholar had ambled
off together, flipping through the pages of an illustrated book, leaving the
other three to sharpen blades.

“So you believe we will find him
tomorrow?” Kirin ran the stone along the edge of his long sword.

The Seer nodded, doing the same
with several of the shorts. “Path has shown me the city. It seems to be very
close to where we are, so it would seem likely.”

Ursa made a face. Her fence of
steel was shining in the sunlight. “It is a ruined city?”

“Yes.”

“They are dangerous.”

“Yes.”

Kirin sighed and looked up.
“Perhaps only the two of us should venture in. Kerris and the Scholar could
stay on the outskirts with the Major – “

The Major spat on the ground but
the Seer stared off into the distance. Between the trees, glimmers of light
danced on the far-away waters, as far-away as the eye could see. It was quite
beautiful.

“That may not be a bad idea,
Captain,” he said finally. “Perhaps Path will tell us tomorrow.”

Kirin frowned. He did not like
the idea that the course of this venture had once again been turned over to the
falcon, and therefore, the Seer. It was a power play that made him
uncomfortable.

“Very well. Tomorrow then,” he
said, and slid the katanah back into its sheath. Tomorrow would come soon
enough.

***

There are many views on the
beginning of life – as many as there are roads of faith, and it is
intriguing to see how they intersect and diverge on the topic of trees. One
road of faith states that life began in a garden, thereby giving almost
primeval power to the nature of the jungle. Others insist that trees themselves
possess spirits, akin to our own in depth and complexity. Others that claim
that life crawled out of a river of reeds, giving birth to all civilizations
from one singular ancestor. Our own dragon mythology states that there are
dragons of earth, sky, fire and water, but not wood. Certainly not tree.
No, there are no tree dragons in our history.

It is a mystery. The forest is a
powerful force.

This land had become a land of
forests, mass upon mass of green scaling the mountains and hills that skirted
the sea, and even from the cliff faces, they could see pines seeming to grow
out of bare rock. The twisted carts were more numerous as well, as finally the
crumbling peaks of a city came into view. It was very early morning, and the
sunlight was bright, almost blinding. But it was the forest that overwhelmed
them even more so than the sun or the sight of the city itself, and they could
see it working its way through road and building alike. In fact, it was as if a
green cloak were being drawn slowly but deliberately across a slate, wiping all
traces of Ancestors from history. It was a frightening sight, dangerous and
wild, untamed and disturbing, as if the seemingly benign forest were devouring
all memory of man.

The road leading into the city
was difficult to walk, as difficult as a jungle road, with vines and roots
pushing up through the pieces of hard surface which then sat up at odd and
treacherous angles on the ground. For the most part, the buildings were almost
obscured by foliage, with vines growing thick up the crumbling walls and trees
growing high on many rooftops, but windows still peered out like eyes without
lids, only hinting at what had once been alive in another time. Tall spires,
broken and mossy, reached to the skies like bones of a withered hand.

But it was not dead, much to
Fallon’s surprise. There was no ‘deathly silence’ or feeling of doom or
foreboding as they moved in through the outskirts of the city. No, there were
birds calling, leaves rustling, and in the distance, the sound of waves and
rushing waters. This place was very much alive, rich with the power of life,
and she found herself in awe of the very land itself, whether Upper Kingdom,
Lower, or here in no kingdom at all.

They rode for the better part of
the morning through this dead but alive city, when Sireth reined his horse in for
a moment, hand raised. Fallon expected the falcon to slice the air in one of
her dramatic entrances, but that did not happen. Instead, he sat quite still
for several moments, eyes closed, then released a long-held breath.

He looked at the Captain. “We should
go,” he said finally.

“Right,” said Kerris, and sprang
from the back of his mountain pony. “Let’s find this ‘tiger’ and get him home.
Nothing like a good old fashioned drag back to a palace to make a fellow feel
welcome.”