Wayward Spirits - A Prelude to The Dawning of Power (Godsland Series) (23 page)

He made in a moment a decision that should have been agonizing, yet it was surprisingly simple. "Harat!" he said without taking his gaze from the water. Only a moment later, he felt Harat by his side, sensed the calm determination and sense of honor that had always marked him as a leader. Without saying a word, Vertook untied the sash that looped over his left shoulder--passing directly over his heart. He'd taken reassurance from it many times, knowing that the sash of the leader would protect his valiant yet frail heart. Now he no longer needed it, but even more, he could no longer uphold the responsibilities that came along with the sash. Remaining silent, he handed the sash to Harat, who hesitated to take it. Vertook thrust the sash into Harat's hand, his final command as tribal leader. Harat took a step back, placed his hand over his heart, and when he bowed down, tears fell from his eyes.

As Harat walked away, Vertook pulled his gaze from the fountain long enough to watch the man who would now protect and guide those he loved. Tears fell from his own cheeks as he released the responsibilities he had worked so hard to obtain. Harat placed the sash underneath his garment, as of yet unwilling to reveal Vertook's wishes. He walked quietly through the crowd as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, and Vertook breathed a mighty sigh of relief; he had chosen well.

* * *

Not far from where Vertook stood, Chase, Strom, and Osbourne gathered.

"When she said to dig, I wasn't expecting . . . I mean . . ." Strom began, but he just trailed off and shrugged.

"I know," Chase said. "I can't believe it either."

"How did she know?" Osbourne asked, looking at the fountain. "How does she do these things?"

"I don't know," Chase said. "I don't understand any of it, and I really want to. This whole thing just keeps getting bigger, and I don't know where it'll stop." He knew he should try to be more positive for the sake of the others, but he couldn't help but speak what was on his mind. "I just don't want to see Cat get hurt. You know how she is."

"The first time I ever met her," Osbourne said, "she was all dirty and scraped up from catching one of our pigs that got loose. The pig was nearly as big as she was, but she carried him all the way across the field to bring him to us. Looked like she took a tumble or two on her way too. She cried 'cause she thought he was hurt."

"I met her at Master Jarvis's lessons," Strom said. "She always looked sad and fragile after her mom died." His words were met with silence heavy with emotion.

"I know I've said this before," Osbourne said without looking up, "but I'm really sorry about your mom and Catrin's mom and Strom's dad. I wish they didn't die."

Chase kicked the sand in front of him. He chastised himself for letting a tear gather in his eye. The pain should be forgotten, he thought, those wounds long since healed, but they were not. When he noticed Strom struggling with pain of his own, it made him feel no better.

Osbourne shifted his weight from foot to foot in the uncomfortable silence. "What do we do now?" He asked, his voice betraying his anxiety.

Chase put a hand over his growling stomach, "I think we should try to track down some food."

Chapter 18

Of all the varied life forms on the planet Godsland, the pyre-orchid is the most curious, only blooming in the wake of forest fires.

--Sister Munion, Cathuran monk

* * *

Catrin opened her eyes for a moment, adjusted the pillow beneath her head, and pulled soft blankets over her shoulders. The morning air was cool, and she closed her eyes to drift back to sleep when voices awakened her. When she became fully aware, she noticed her surroundings. She lay on a light, fluffy bed with a similarly made pillow, which she guessed were both stuffed with down.

A small tent, made of sheer material, shaded her. The breeze passed through the fabric, but bugs could not. It was artfully made and was doubtless the finest the Arghast had to offer. Still dressed in the clothes she'd lived in for days, she was in desperate need of a good bath. Pushing back the tent flap, she walked out into a bright glare that momentarily blinded her, and she heard the sudden murmur of many hushed voices. When her vision cleared, she found all of the Arghast watching her intently. She was not sure what they expected, but their stares were intense and disconcerting. It took some time for her to decide what to say to the assembled crowd, and what came from her mouth was the plain truth.

"If I could trouble someone to help me, I am quite hungry. Is there any food left from the morning meal?" she asked almost timidly. The activity resulting from her request was astounding, and it seemed they all felt compelled to try to help. Some men scrambled to set up a small table; others made a comfortable seat for her from several large cushions, and still others erected a makeshift sunshade made of the same material as her tent.

She sat at the table and waited. People began to approach her with a lavish array of foods. Women were now part of the group, some in typical female clothing and others dressed like the men. Catrin had seen no women the day before and was surprised to see them now. The crowd was now nearly double the number she recalled. Men and women offered fruits, meats, breads, and one elderly man brought her more of the drink she remembered Vertook had given her. Catrin recognized him from his castigation of the tribal leaders, but he gave her a kindly smile.

"What is this drink?"

"Desert mist," he responded with a wink. "How to make is secret, something only spoke in private. We speak alone soon, yes?"

"Yes, of course, and thank you." She paused to take a sip of the desert mist. "What are you called, sir?" she asked.

"Called Aged Goat by most," he said with a toothless grin, "but true name is Mika. You call me Mika. Yes?"

"Indeed, Mika, I will," she responded warmly, and Mika retreated through the masses. Catrin had never been served in such a way, and she found it disquieting; it felt wrong to accept their generosity, to be selfish and indulgent, but it seemed just as wrong to refuse their gifts.

Her hunger sated, she wanted a nap, but more than that she desperately wanted to get clean. As if someone were reading her mind, several women approached Catrin with soft towels and scented soaps. One motioned for her to follow and walked toward the towering fountain Catrin had created. She was delighted to see a pond forming outward from the fountain, and she hoped it would continue to grow. She envisioned a lush oasis nestled in the valley, full of life and vigor--a jewel in the desert.

Two women unfolded a large, thick cloth, which they held up for privacy. Catrin took soap that smelled of peppermint then undressed and dipped her toes into the water. It was bitterly cold, and the frigid spray made her shiver, but she was thankful for the opportunity to get clean. The shallow water at the edge was not quite as cold, and she used it to wash herself. The soap created a rich, aromatic lather, and Catrin lavished in the fragrance as she washed off the grime of many days.

When she emerged from the pool, the same woman who had led her to the pond brought her a soft towel. She dried herself and looked for her clothes, but they were not where she had left them. Another woman approached with clothes similar to Catrin's. She knew that it had taken them much thought and effort to find these for her, and she felt almost unworthy. She put on the borrowed clothes, and they were a fair fit. The shirtsleeves were a little long, but she rolled them up, insisting that it was just the way she liked her sleeves.

There was more food and drink when she returned from her bathing, and Benjin and the boys were there too. In the flurry of the morning, she had not thought of them, and she was relieved to see they were fine--just dirty. The women offered the towels and soap to them, and they wasted no time in getting to the fountain.

The leaders had congregated nearby, looking subdued and clearly waiting for her to speak first. With her hunger satiated and her friends attended to, Catrin turned her attention to them.

"Leaders of the Arghast tribes, will you sit with me?" Slowly the men began to come forward and seat themselves on the ground around her. As Catrin lowered herself to the ground, several rushed to get her a cushion, but she declined with a smile. "I've not come here to rule you or to be worshipped by you. I'm a simple girl, not a goddess or a queen. I don't place myself above you. Speak freely and know your worth."

There was confusion in the crowd, and Vertook approached Catrin. He repeated what she said in his own words and she nodded. With Vertook translating, Catrin continued, trying to find simple words to express complex things. "I praise your leaders for their devotion to truth, for they did not blindly accept my claims or the words of Nat Dersinger. They chose to make me prove myself, just as I would have done. I've now proven my power to you, and we need to reach an understanding. We must put aside any mistakes we've made and forgive others for hurting us," she said, pausing. Murmurs passed through the crowd as Vertook translated. When she addressed them again, she spoke louder.

"Will the tribes of Arghast protect the Herald of Istra?" she asked. The people raised their voices in a high, ululating cry and shook their fists above their heads before Vertook even spoke. Catrin raised her hands to them, requesting silence. She spoke again.

"Tribes of Arghast! Embrace your duty and take pride in what you have already done. You answered the Call of the Herald, and your valor will not be forgotten. You have pledged yourselves to the Herald, and she calls you to battle. How do you answer?" Their cries echoed off the mountains and reverberated along the peaks.

"The Godfist is under attack. Invaders have come to destroy us. The Godfist needs a defender, and the Herald of Istra calls on the tribes of Arghast because they are strong, they are fierce, and they will prevail!" she said, the words spilling forth from her heart. Vertook translated her words with as much emotion as she had expressed, and then he started the crowd shouting "Catrin" in unison. The chanting grew louder and louder. She raised her arms, and the crowd hushed.

"I thank you for your bravery and honor. Take great pride in yourselves and your mighty nation. I will meet with your leaders, and we will make our plans. Many blessings to you all!" As the crowd dispersed, Catrin returned to her seat.

"You very gracious, Lady Catrin. We honor and support you. We have many gifts to give upon you, and we have sorrow for doubting of you," Vertook said then took a deep breath. He continued hesitantly. "I been asked again to speak for all Arghast. Others not understand your talk as much."

"Please speak how you feel, Vertook, and so will I," she said, smiling. Turning to the men closest to her, she said, "Please tell me your names and the names of your people."

The leaders smiled and nodded, and each introduced himself: Harat introduced himself as the chief of the Viper clan. Catrin cast a confused glance at Vertook, who had previously claimed to be chief of the Viper clan, but he said nothing. Halmsa was chief of the Wind clan, Irvil of the Sun clan, Malluke of the Horse clan, Spenwar of the Scorpion clan, and Cheslo of the Cactus clan.

"I am honored to know the names of the revered leaders of the Arghast. As you have received me, I pledge to protect you with all of my strength. But now I have to ask for your help. I must leave the Godfist on a boat, and the enemy soldiers will try to stop me." She knew she could be risking the entire Arghast nation by involving them in a war, but she did not know what to do but follow her instincts and hope they were right.

"I need some time with my Guardians," she said, and as Vertook started to stand, she asked, "Vertook, would you please stay here and plan our escape? We can meet again later."

"Vertook is glad to do that," was his reply, and he turned to the group and began to talk with the leaders.

"Greetings, Lady Catrin," Nat said as he walked toward her. He wore clean clothes, and his hair was not as wild as usual.

"Hello, Nat, and please call me Catrin, like you always have."

"As you wish, Catrin. I'm sorry I couldn't deliver this dire news sooner, but it wasn't possible with what's been going on," he said. "I'm afraid that by some deception, your destination is known to the Zjhon. I don't know how they found out, but we'll need to be extra careful about who we talk to about our plans."

"How did you come to know the Zjhon knew where I was going?"

"It wasn't just one thing, you see. Much of the Zjhon fleet left the harbor, sailing east toward the cove, but ships were also reported off the northern coast. Before I escaped Harborton, Miss Mariss got news the cove had been raided and one of the pirate ships captured. It was enough. The news came from the ship that escaped, and those on board suggested a new place to meet you. We need to get you there as soon as possible. Every day they remain in hiding is risky." It seemed like a thin hope to Catrin, surrounded by the Zjhon, and she felt trapped.

"Before I leave, there is a most unpleasant task I am obligated to perform," he said and took an object from within his robe unlike anything Catrin had ever seen before. An ivory tube, it was about as long as her forearm and decorated with fanciful carvings that were enhanced with gold and gemstones. The ends were topped with gold caps in the shape of a man and woman embracing--the symbol of the Zjhon empire. Catrin reached out slowly, unsure she wanted to accept it.

"This is the other reason I think we've been betrayed. This contains a message and was delivered to Miss Mariss through the channels of the Vestrana. Somehow the Zjhon have infiltrated the Vestrana, and we have no idea whom to trust. I'll leave you so you can read the message, but we must speak again soon. There are many things we should discuss," he said as he walked away.

Catrin felt a new burden on her shoulders. She feared what was written inside, afraid the words might find some way to hurt her and those around her. She walked to where Benjin stood. He looked refreshed after his bath and was pulling his hair into a braid as she approached.

"A storm is coming," he said, rubbing his shoulder, but when he saw the look on Catrin's face, he waited for the bad news. She handed him the tube and told him how it had been delivered. Benjin was stunned and hesitated to take it--perhaps for the same reasons Catrin was loath to hold it, both fearing what it might contain.

"Please, read it for me. I don't have the courage."

"Perhaps that would be wise. They could have rigged it with a trap," Benjin said. He carefully removed the golden cap. It fell away, and nothing leaped from the tube. He pulled the rolled parchment from the tube, placed it on the ground, and examined it closely before picking it up. He unrolled it and read aloud.

Salutations to the Herald of Istra from His Eminence, Archmaster Emsin Kelsig Belegra, spiritual leader and chief evangelist of the Holy Church of Zjhon.

The Zjhon nation has extended its warmest greetings, and you have evaded my emissaries and ignored our requests for talks of peace. You must not care that lives will be lost.

I do not know why you wish ill toward the Zjhon nation, but we only seek your salvation. Our request for talks of peace still stands, despite your refusals. If you present yourself to any of my emissaries, they will bring you directly to me, unharmed. Your companions are also welcome.

If you persist in your attempted flight from the Godfist, we will interpret it as a hostile action against the Zjhon nation. For your own sake, do not seek to flee or to invade the Greatland. My emissaries will remain on the Godfist until you have presented yourself to me personally. This matter must be settled between you and me. It would be a pity if your countrymen and mine suffered needlessly as a result of your selfishness. I beg you to put away your ego and do what you know is right.

I trust you will choose your path wisely.

Most gracious regards,

Archmaster Belegra, humble servant of the Gods

"I don't know which part is the most offensive," Catrin began. "I've never heard so many thinly veiled threats and insults. Why would they wish to provoke me in such a way? What does he mean, I have refused their offers for talks of peace? No one has made any such offer. He makes it sound as if their invasion is my fault!"

"Please stay calm, li'l miss. They wrote those things to provoke you, hoping you would do something hasty and foolish. It's a common tactic in warfare: taunt your opponent and instill doubt and fear in him whenever possible. There's not much in that letter we didn't already know. Try not to fret over it."