Vault Of Heaven 01 - The Unremembered (27 page)

A second Bar’dyn charged Tahn. With no time to draw another arrow, Tahn took several steps back. The Bar’dyn bore down upon him, holding its ax in a wide grip. Tahn lifted his bow as though to strike the Bar’dyn, but knew the futility in it. When the Bar’dyn was just a stride from him, it erupted in flame. Red fire scorched its skin, and an awful-smelling smoke rose from the creature in black waves. The Bar’dyn opened its mouth to scream, but the flames licked at its tongue and teeth and muffled the cry in its throat.

Mira fell upon the Bar’dyn Sutter and Braethen had wounded, slaying it from behind before it knew what had happened. The last of the Given snapped the arrow that had pierced its eye, and looked with its other eye at the fire engulfing its companion. With that, the creature turned and lumbered off into the darkness.

The light in the air began to dissipate slightly as the dust settled. Rasping breath filled the air, but over the sound of labored breathing Tahn could hear the distant beat of drums.

Then, just beyond the clearing, someone struck the drum the Bar’dyn had been carrying.
The tracker!
And struck it again. The sound rose in a penetrating bass note that carried farther than any scream or cry might. In response, the chorus of drums farther south beat twice in quick succession.

“Your horses!” Vendanj commanded.

Tahn jumped on Jole and the others mounted their steeds. Mira rushed in from the dark as the last of the light dust disappeared. Sheathing her swords, she jumped in stride onto her horse, and turned an inquiring look at Vendanj. The Sheason did not hesitate. “North,” he said. “To the Sedagin.”

Mira nodded and kicked Solus into a gallop. Vendanj waved for the rest of them to follow, and took the rear position behind Braethen. Shapes rose up and slipped by in a blur: trees, large rock outcroppings. Tahn rode hard through the weave of foliage and knolls and sudden dips in the land.

The drums grew louder, each beat sounding to Tahn as though it was joined by still more mallets upon tightly drawn hide. The night air chilled his cheeks and hands, making them throb. He looked back at Wendra, who rode beside the boy, and found fierce determination on both their faces. Past them, he saw Sutter actually smiling thinly in the starlight. That was when he saw them. Just over Vendanj’s shoulder several shapes were crashing through the trees. Saplings snapped under their feet, their footfalls like large stones rolling down a hill.

“Vendanj!” Tahn called, and pointed.

“Ride!” the Sheason shouted.

Tahn turned forward and saw Mira twenty horse-lengths ahead, jumping a ravine with Solus at a dead run.

Dear Sky,
Tahn thought.

“Don’t slow!” Mira called back. “Trust your mount!”

Tahn bent forward and spoke in his horse’s ear; Jole raced ahead. “Come on, old friend. Dash!” Something quickened in Jole’s legs and before Tahn could say more, the horse leapt into the air. The world felt suspended and silent. The chasm beneath them was deeper than Tahn expected, but they passed it quickly and Jole’s hooves caught earth again, never slowing.

Penit’s horse made the jump easily with its lighter burden, as did Wendra’s. Behind them, torches flickered in the woods, and the sound of crashing branches came like a whir of droning crickets ten thousand strong.

Sutter came next, lashing his mount’s rump before the leap. Up and over he came, yawping loudly as though initiating the Kottel Rhine back home. His gleeful cry was met with unearthly calls from the Bar’dyn just fifty strides behind Vendanj. Braethen came on, gathering his reins in both hands to steel himself for the jump. The sodalist’s horse misjudged the slight pull on its reins and began to pull up as they approached the ravine. Dirt kicked up from the steed’s hooves, and it whinnied loudly, spitting clouds of steam from its nostrils into the chill air.

“No!” Tahn screamed, pulling Jole around.

In an instant Mira was beside him. She grabbed Jole’s reins and pulled Tahn close. “Vendanj said north. He knows the cost!”

She tried to yank Jole back into a run. But Jole faithfully obeyed Tahn, who used his legs to direct the animal toward the ravine.

Near the crevasse, Braethen’s steed locked its front legs and slid toward the drop. The earth at the edge was loose, and the horse began to tumble into the ravine. The animal kicked furiously against its slide, and managed to steady itself. Vendanj came on, watching the struggle but preparing to make the jump. It seemed the Sheason intended to leave the sodalist to the closing Bar’dyn. Looking past them, Tahn saw small trees falling like a wooden wave in the Bar’dyn’s passage toward them. The drums grew more frantic, beating out polyrhythmic cadences that began to confuse Tahn and confound his mind.

Tahn turned to Mira, beginning to frame a plea for assistance. Wendra, Penit, and Sutter reached them and slowed, following Tahn’s concerned gaze back toward the crevasse.

Sutter saw it immediately. “Tahn, we can’t leave him!”

Nails wheeled and headed back toward the ravine. Tahn tried to follow, but Mira held Jole’s reins firmly. Then something locked deep inside him, a clear feeling that calmed his heart. He cupped his hands beside his mouth to throw his voice, and yelled, “No, Vendanj!”

Tahn’s call rose powerfully, and the Sheason seemed to sense something in Tahn’s voice. He immediately pulled Suensin to a stop. Vendanj turned to face the advancing Bar’dyn, who were but twenty strides from them now. At least a dozen of the figures rushed toward him without slowing.

“Help him!” Vendanj called. He clasped his hands and lifted his face to the sky. Sutter came to the ravine and jumped it again, yelping with delight as he had before. He jumped from his horse and extended his hand to the sodalist. Just strides away, the air began to rush in toward Vendanj, red and violet particles streaming toward him with increasing speed. Soon they were streaks of yellow and white, and it appeared as if the air itself were gathering inside him.

The Sheason unlaced his fingers and extended them toward the ground in front of him. Great shocks of lightning shot from his fingertips, lighting the ground in a blanket of popping, sizzling energy. The lightning brought the Bar’dyn to an abrupt stop, but not before it caught the first several in its field. The lightning leapt up their massive frames, coursing down their arms and racing around their bodies like a living thing. The smell of burning flesh filled the air, and great howls of anguish accompanied the searing sound of the earthbound storm.

The sodalist took Sutter’s hand, ripping his satchel from his steed’s saddle just as the horse went over into the crevasse. Braethen’s legs dangled in the air, and Tahn heard the horse land with a heavy crash at the bottom of the drop.

“Let go of the bag, Braethen!” Sutter cried. “I need your other hand to pull you out!”

“No!” the sodalist argued.

Sutter’s grip slipped. He thrust his other arm over the precipice and grasped Braethen’s wrist. “I can’t hold you much longer!”

The sodalist looked down, then back at Sutter, but still did not release his satchel.

Vendanj jumped from Suensin and ran to the edge. He put his hand over Sutter’s and in one motion, pulled the sodalist from the crevasse.

“Mount!” he yelled.

The Sheason jumped on his own steed, which sidled close to the edge of the drop, and, from a standstill, leapt the ravine.

Once Sutter and Braethen were saddled and ready to move, Sutter’s face drew dark with concern. Their horse would never make the jump double-burdened. The Sheason came around, brought clenched fists to his chest, and began to fold his arms in and push with his chest, as a man does to pull a heavy handcart. The earth trembled and quaked, and the sides of the crevasse began to draw close to each other. In the space of just breaths, the chasm had narrowed enough that when Sutter kicked Bardoll, the horse jumped it with ease. Vendanj fell forward in his saddle. Mira left Tahn and raced to the Sheason. She pulled him from his horse and sat him in front of her atop Solus. She spoke directly to the Sheason’s steed, which began to run north.

“Go!” she called to the rest. “Follow Suensin!”

They turned without question and pushed their mounts northward into the trees. Tahn didn’t know how long they ran before the horses tired and finally stopped altogether. The sound of drums fell off behind them to a faint pulse that might easily have been their own ragged breath. Tahn climbed down off Jole and fell to the ground, exhausted.

He closed his eyes and turned to the east. It was more difficult than ever to think about the day, the light, but he remembered the calm hues of dawn and the reawakening of birds to the morn, and peace came over him, if only for a moment.

Mira stood guard at the south end of the small clearing where they’d stopped, but Vendanj lay unmoving at the feet of his horse, where he’d collapsed after the Far had helped him down from her saddle. Braethen sat close to the Sheason, his sword in hand. When Tahn’s heart found its own ryhthm again, he sat up. The faintest touches of dawn had crept into the sky. Looking north, he could see where the High Plains rose dramatically in sheer cliffs to an immense bluff that stretched to the horizon in both directions.

Sedagin, another tale from the reader’s books.

Suddenly, the crack of a drum shattered the silence, sounding as though it were right among them. Tahn rose on shaky legs, but did not believe he and the others could flee farther. They’d scarcely caught their breath. Vendanj did not rise.

“Mount!” Mira cried.

Sounds of the thrashing of undergrowth and trees snapping again filled the air. Before the rest could rise, six Bar’dyn emerged into the south end of the clearing. The sound of rough laughter coughed from one of the Bar’dyn.

“Run, run, run, you do,” the Bar’dyn said. “Weak and slow. Foolish.”

Mira raced to face them, silently drawing her swords and taking a low stance. Tahn marveled that she didn’t look fatigued.

“One woman to fight for you,” the same Bar’dyn said. “What of your Sheason?” Another laugh spat from its thick lips as it caught sight of Vendanj lying on the ground.

Braethen managed to get to his knees. He held his sword in front of him.

Sounding like a rock slide, a chorus of laughter erupted from the line of Bar’dyn. Then it abruptly stopped and their chieftain looked at Mira. “No one need die, Far.”

“Never,” she said. Tahn shuddered at the hatred in her voice.

“Velle’shea!” the Bar’dyn growled and its companions lifted their weapons.

As they did, a thrown sword shrieked through the clearing from the rear, burying itself in a tree a hand’s length from one Bar’dyn head.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Teheale

From all sides of the clearing, men appeared, each holding a blade like the one embedded in the tree near the Bar’dyn. The strangers took ready stances and rested their sword points lightly in the earth, each with hands relaxed confidently on the cross guard. At least twenty men could be seen, and Tahn sensed that others remained hidden in the trees, out of sight.

The Bar’dyn still looked implacable, but they eased their weapons back down, and retreated several steps.

“Not over, Sheason,” the Bar’dyn said, looking at the still unconscious Vendanj. “We know where you are. Others will follow.”

Then they vanished as quickly as they had come, their massive bodies forging new paths back through the thicket. The men around them made no move to advance, nor did they retreat. They wore heavy cloaks, some brown, some green, and each man carried only a large sword for a weapon. Beneath their cloaks, they wore thick, woolen shirts dyed a rich fir hue. They were tall men, and there wasn’t one who had supped too indulgently at his dinner table.

Mira finally sheathed her swords. “Who speaks for you?” she asked.

“I do,” said a man from the east. The fellow stepped out of the trees and into the clearing, then crossed to the sword embedded in the tree. He pulled it free and checked the blade, rubbing sap from the tip. He spun the blade once in his hand and sheathed it with expert skill. “I am Riven, First Blade to the Sedagin, and you are altogether too close to the High Plains.”

Braethen reached beneath Vendanj’s tunic and lifted the symbol of his necklace into the early light. “Safe Passage. For the First Promise,” he said.

Riven’s eyes widened at the sight of the pendant. The Sedagin First Blade looked quickly at Tahn and the others. Then he again set his watchful gaze on Braethen.

“Why are the Bar’dyn so far from the Shadow of the Hand, sodalist?” Riven asked.

“It is a fair question, but asked at an unwise time. These few you have scattered will return within the hour with a full collough,” Braethen said. “And I fear there are more behind them. Our discussion, if had now, could be our last.”

“We will take you into the High Plains. The Bar’dyn aren’t likely to follow.” Riven called three men to him. “Take the message ahead of us,” he said to the first. “Make Sedagin aware of our guests, and find them beds.” Riven turned to the second. “Take Henna, Elo, and Nittel and track the Bar’dyn. Learn their route and return to us. Go.” The second man and three others disappeared into the trees to the south.

The third he commanded to build a litter to carry the Sheason. Tahn and Braethen assisted.