Besieged Page 7

  The girl shrieked, wiped her dripping face, studied Cierra’s expression, then mock scowled. “Prepare yourself for war, Lady Cierra.”

  Just as battle was engaged, Castoff moved between the two…and caught the fuselage from both directions. Water ran down his nose and dripped from his ears. He yelped, backed up and shook vigorously.

  “What have you done to our dog?” Kyam’s big boots were planted by their knees.

  Cierra and Lusan looked at each other, grinned, and hurled as much water as they could scoop up at his chest.

  He pulled a soggy shirt away from his skin. “My student has learned her lessons well, perhaps too well.” His lips twitched. “Know this: retaliation will come at a time you least expect. For now, we must depart. Say your final farewells.”

  Hmmm. She’d best begin planning her counter retaliation. Truly brilliant ideas require time to hatch.

  Lusan turned to Lyn with a smile that wobbled. “Momma, I will give you a detailed report when I return home. And I’ll learn all I can about the river and its portals.”

  What courage it must take to send your only child away.

  The same courage as your parents. Infused with the hope for a better future.

  Was that really their reason? Not embarrassment or disappointment? She rubbed her chest to ease a sudden tightness.

  “Ciltrig, guard her well.” The Watcher stood clutching the doorway.

  “Yes, Watcher.” The soldier stood almost as tall as Kyam and resembled a boulder. Lyn had assured Cierra that his mind did not.

  “Jifner, you have the antidote for the poison?”

  “Yes, Watcher.” The trusted aide, pulled from his old-age hassock to accompany Lusan, bowed as low as age and large appetite would permit.

  “Remember, if the portal is blocked or you find Kev has lost control of his city, you are to return to us immediately.” Lyn turned to Kyam. “I wish I had found key or code book. To give your key to Lusan leaves you vulnerable. Without it you have no access to the river. Which means you have no sure retreat.”

  They had no time left to run and hide. The portal and river had done all possible.

  All that was necessary was for her to avoid shooting her plume into the heavens, then Merlick would not know where to search.

  “My people will continue to seek. All I can surmise is that when the river was no longer used, the code book and key were neglected, shoved into some obscure corner and forgotten.” Lyn scowled. “Though how any Watcher could neglect so great a treasure is an embarrassing error.”

  Kyam checked chains to make sure everyone on the raft was secure. “Thank your scribes for their excellent and expeditious work in copying the codes.”

  “Most likely the river will take you to Trafore, which is the next nearest city. If so, then take the south road leaving from the lesser gate. With The Masters’ assistance, you should have no more than a five day trek to Lipfar.”

  Just five days? Mentally, Cierra began to tally. Added on to all the cumulated sum of delayed letter delivery days, Scarth avoidance, and Nanseel treachery? The total was beyond any expectation of hope. Sheer lunacy to hope. Not rational. And yet, they were setting out on a quest—vastly outnumbered—because of hope.

  Enough thinking. Time to act.

  “Good-bye, Mother.”

  “The Masters bless your path, daughter.”

  “Put these in your pouch.” Kyam handed Lusan the key and code pages. “They must stay on your person at all times.”

  Lusan tucked them in her girdle pouch and double checked that they could not accidentally fall out. “I’ll guard them most carefully.”

  “Everyone sit. Make sure all items are secured.” Kyam double checked Castoff’s line.

  “It helps if you hang on to your chain as well.” Cierra demonstrated the proper grip.

  Kyam looked at each one. “Ready?” When everyone nodded, he said, "River, take us to the nearest open portal to Lipfar.”

  “Oh my!”

  “Merciful Masters!”

  “Capular arise!”

  ✽✽✽

  Time and walls passed in a blur. Finally, the raft settled against a dock. They searched for a symbol to indicate which city they approached. Lusan spotted it first. A “TB” was etched in the door frame. The code involved two up and one downward pump followed by a twist to the right. The door opened onto the raft.

  “How is it that your few pages have had all the needed codes?” Cierra tapped the papers in Kyam’s hand.

  “I have been wondering about that as well. If the book were organized by location rather than by name, it could explain our most fortuitous set of pages. It is certainly something The Masters could arrange.”

  “That would mean that the code for Bennong is not among them.”

  “True. But there are a limited number of combinations using our metal hook and pumps up and down. It is worth the attempt. Ciltrig and I will list possible combinations. With Ya-Wyn's assistance it is well within the realm of the credible.”

  He brushed a kiss across her cheek. “Ready?”

  He stepped out of the river portal into a small rough chamber and paused. Lifting the lamp high he surveyed the wooden walls. To brush against them would result in a multitude of splinters—he had encountered less dangerous porcupines. The floor was packed dirt.

  At first he could not even find a door. Not that it would take long to explore all, for he could stand in the middle and touch all the walls. Or should it be wall? There were no corners, just one rounded expanse. Perhaps he stood in an oversized barrel.

  He looked up. Not a flat ceiling, instead a conical one.

  “Well?” Cierra poked her head in the door.

  “No signs of danger yet. This opening does not appear to be set in a citadel. I doubt we have landed in Trafore.” He began tapping the walls, listening for a different tone. Finally, his knocking produced a rattle. He searched for a seam and found a thin fissure arching above his head. Using his fingers he traced the door’s outline looking for a knob…and found a knot. When he wiggled it, the door began to swing outward. He held it in place. “Come, Castoff.”

  Giving the dog time to sniff the widening crack, he eased the door open. Sunlight surrounded him, filtering greenly through leaves, glittering on dew drops, and bouncing off dust motes. The pungent smell of pine and damp earth awoke his senses—the river had been remarkably void of any odors. He breathed deep, pulling in a lungful of forest.

  Castoff, tail swaying, trotted nose to the ground in a meandering course. Probably he had found the recent trail of a squirrel or rabbit.

  Kyam listened for sounds of men and danger. Birds chattered overhead. Small rustlings told of beady-eyed rodents going about their business. He returned to the chamber. “All is well.”

  Cierra stepped past him while he exchanged the lamp for his and the dog’s packs and the precious skin of river water which Jiltrig held. “Give greetings to Watcher Kev. Speak of the river to only those you know can be trusted. We will send word from Lipfar as soon as possible.”

  “Yes, sir. The Masters guide and bless your steps.” Jiltrag bowed.

  “We will tell only Watcher Kev all that you have discovered.” Lusan smiled. “Between searching for an ancient code book and key and trying to recall the victory petal message given to him, he will be busy indeed.”

  “I look forward to the day when we again ring the bells together, Lusan. A day announcing victory and safety.” Cierra brushed her eyes and smiled.

  The door slid shut. “Hmm, Jiltrig seems to have mastered the key slot. They should arrive in Bennong in time for evening bells.”

  “Far sooner than we will reach Lipfar.”

  Kyam scanned Cierra’s face for fear or impatience. She stood calm and relaxed at his side. Did she realize just how much she had changed? What a surprise for her parents.

  He pointed up the hill. “Let us try to ascertain where we are.”

  A tangerine and gold butterfly chose that moment to
land on Castoff’s ear. Its wings fanned open and closed. The dog froze while the insect clung. Why choose that spot to rest? Surely it had not mistaken his dog for a flower. “First mykos and now butterflies—what do they find so attractive about your ears?” A low whine was Castoff’s only response.

  Cierra turned laughing but when she looked behind him her eyes widened and the laughter vanished. “That is the portal room?”

  He whirled around and scraped his nose on the bark of an immense tree. Even holding hands, he and Cierra could not span its girth. He was all but kissing it. “No wonder it was a round room.”

  “Oh my,” Cierra whispered, “Just when I thought all the river doors opened into citadels, we find one in a tree.” Her eyes sparkled. “I wonder what other doors The Masters have hidden in plain sight?”

  “They delight in creativity and surprises. Anything you can imagine—and more besides.” Considering the length and breadth of her imagination, that opened up a multitude of possibilities.

  She studied the tree, then looked at others close by. “How would we ever find it, if needed?” It is large, but no larger than others. Its leaves and shape are the same as many others.”

  “A good question, wife. Perhaps we should mark it in some way.”

  “Surely it was marked by others in the past who needed to find it.”

  Kyam stepped back and scanned the tree twenty scentons up. “If we calculate at least a hundred years’ growth since last it was used, it would be up there.”

  “But the door remains down here.”

  Kyam looked at his brilliant wife. “Outstanding thought. Do you see anything close to the door?” How foresightful of The Masters to keep the door at ground level.

  She circled the tree, running her hand and her eyes over the bark. She shook her head. “What am I doing? It would have to be something seen from a distance, else they could spend a lifetime searching for the right tree.”

  “Right again. There is no discernible path pointing this way.” He backed up until the portal tree was one of fifteen or so in his line of sight. “What are we looking for, Masters?”

  A sudden breeze stirred the leaves on the trees. All their undersides were silvery. Except the portal tree. It had a golden hue.

  Cierra craned her head. “All we must do is ask The Masters for a breeze and the tree becomes obvious.”

  Closing the tree’s door was the work of moments. It required a few more to make sure he could open it again.

  It took an hour to reach the summit of the hill and another twenty minutes for Kyam to find a scalable tree. From his perch among the branches he saw to his left a silver thread in the distance—a river, if he was not mistaken. Perhaps easy travel was available. “Cierra, note the direction I am pointing.”

  She stood beneath him and positioned her body to face the direction his arm indicated. He left the tree a great deal faster than he climbed up—though not entirely on purpose. He misjudged a branch and dropped five scentons before grabbing another. Not the way he wished to impress his bride. Safely on the ground once more, he led them down the hill.

  ✽✽✽

  Cierra found herself skipping more for the joy of it than necessity as she followed Kyam. He had long since adjusted his stride to a comfortable pace. She discovered a possessive delight in tracing the outline of his shoulders and letting the words “my husband’ tumble in her head. She glanced back to watch Castoff nose a grass clump, and felt the thwack of a branch against her chest. She had best watch where she was going.

  When she brushed the branch aside, its leaves were feather soft. She grinned. Two tugs, a twist and the branch was free. Practicing stealth while hurrying to catch up to Kyam, she waved her branch across his neck and around his ears.

  He whirled and grabbed in one fluid motion. Then, like a fisherman, he reeled her in. “What has happened to my serious Cierra—the woman who can think only of getting to Lipfar?”

  She braced her hands against his chest and leaned back. “A wise man taught me that joy speeds the journey.”

  “Hmm, do tell.”

  “Yes,” she gave him a smacking kiss, “I can’t recall his name at the moment. But I met him somewhere.”

  “Tease.” His fingers used her ribs like a flute.

  She laughed and twisted out of reach. “Shouldn’t you attend to our repast?”

  “You wish me to think about food?”

  “Don’t you always?”

  His eyes moved over her in brush strokes. “Not anymore.”

  Heat rose in a tide to her cheeks. “Castoff, haven’t you located a tasty rabbit?” She looked back, but the dog was still at the same spot as before.

  “What have you found?” Kyam slipped around Cierra and retraced his steps.

  “Just remember, I refuse to dine on snakes or grubs.” She sat on a convenient log rather than poke in the dirt with her two males. Noses within tesos of the ground, they examined some fascinating discovery.

  Kyam looked toward her, “Cierra, come here.” His sharp tone made her glance around for lurking enemies.

  She hurried to his side. “What?”

  He pointed to the ground. “Another thing that should not be.”

  Only when she bent double did she see the print in the dirt. Without straightening, she tilted her head to ask, “Castoff isn’t permitted to leave a mark?”

  “Not his print.” Kyam pointed to the dog’s paws. “He has four toes.”

  With a finger hovering over the indentation she counted three. Kyam put his hand above the print. “Castoff matches mine, width for width.”

  She caught a swath of hair and hooked it behind her ear to better measure the size of the print. “It has a greater breadth. What made this?”

  He rubbed his jaw. She remembered the scratchy feel of it as he woke her with kisses when the raft reached the hollow tree portal. A pleasant shiver rippled through her.

  “I know of only one beast.” He frowned. “But…”

  Her stomach grew tense. “It troubles you. How dangerous?”

  “Very.” He turned in a full circle looking for something. “Stay close, sir.” At his command, the dog, his fur ruffled to almost double its usual size, stood next to Cierra but facing the opposite direction from them watching the way they had come.

  She glanced from the man to the dog and back again. “Tell me what you suspect.”

  “Werfs.”

  “Werfs? They only appear in legends and nightmares.”

  He shook his head. “Their native home is Tesmore.”

  “Some argue that country also exists only in myths.” She swished the feather branch—how was it still in her hand?

  “It is real.” He sounded so sure.

  “Then it is a distant land.” She scowled at the paw print.

  “Ten thousand melars or more from here. Just as the inspar only grows in Feldhand.”

  She swallowed a surge of fear. “Merlick is gathering evil from all over the world to gain Capular.”

  “It is a measure of both his insatiable appetite to consume it and his knowledge of The Masters—the lengths to which They will go to save what is Theirs.”

  She hugged herself. “The werfs—are their exploits overstated?”

  Kyam rummaged in his pack. “Possible, but not probable. What have you heard?”

  She rubbed sweaty palms up and down on her thighs. “Vicious. Killing for pleasure as well as need. Impossible to fight and win.”

  He handed a piece of dried meat to her. “That is an accurate summary.”

  She shook her head. “Not hungry.”

  “You need the energy.” He passed a piece to Castoff.

  “What do we do?”

  He closed his pack and wrapped her in a one-armed, open hug. Her soldier was on guard even while comforting her. “We go on. The print is at least half a day old. If they find us, they will not attack until dusk.” He rubbed his hand up and down her arm and frowned. “At least that is how they hunt in Tesmore.”

/>   “But—?” She was sure there was more.

  He squeezed her. “But how can we count on natural behavior when their presence is unnatural?”

  She pulled air in and pushed fear out. “How do we prepare?”

  He surveyed the woods. “We choose a haven no more than thirty scentons away from our path. As soon as that one drops too far behind us, we select another.”

  “These refuges—what do they look like?” She pointed toward a massive ash. “That?”

  “First it must be tall, so your choice would work.” He raised his hand, palm down, to shoulder level. “Werfs generally stand six farthongs on their hind legs.”

  Cierra tugged Castoff closer. “He can’t climb a tree.”

  Sorrow and resignation plowed grooves in Kyam’s face, “No. If the werfs attack, he must fight as best he can.” His eyes grew moist. “Alone.” Using the arm around her shoulder he cupped her head and kissed her hair. “You are my first and greatest charge.” With his free hand Kyam raised the dog’s muzzle. “He understands that.”

  The dog whined his agreement.

  “Then we will petition The Masters for a different kind of haven. What shall we look for?”

  He rubbed the dog’s ears, “A cave with a narrow opening. But we could be trapped in it until our food and water ran out.”

  She ran her hands over suddenly cold arms. “Better that than werfs. Won’t they do the same with a tree?”

  “From the vantage of a tree, I could spear them.” He patted his knife. “Another river opening is too much to ask for.”

  “Too close to the one we used and no key.” She turned in a circle. “You’ll have only one stab with your improvised spear.”

  “Not if I tied it securely to a length of cord.” He nudged her forward. “Come. It does no good to remain here. We may happen upon some propitious thing just as we need it.”

  “Like underground caves and hidden rivers.”

  “The Masters have been gracious so far. I see no reason for that to change.”