Exile (30 page)

“What I brought was a companion. That is a body, and it’s your problem now.”

Before he turned away, he remembered one thing and bent down, turning Ferin gently onto his back. He searched the adept’s pockets until he found the chain with Indigo’s ring on it and moved it to his own pocket. The warriors watched with interest. They were less eager to confront him now that they knew he was an adept. Closing Ferin’s eyes with two careful fingers, he whispered in Caithin so they wouldn’t understand.

“I’m sorry, my friend. You deserved better.”

Blood pounded in his veins when he turned his back on the group bristling with weapons and walked away. He focused on each footstep and listened for the sound of pursuit. None came. They would expect the desert to finish him off anyhow. Soon he fell to focusing only on his footsteps.

It was never easy to lose a companion, though it happened all too often in times of war. Now that he had taken the throne, losing Commander Dalce and Captain Eris among many others in the process, he had hoped to avoid such losses for a time. Ferin’s death was neither noble nor did it serve a purpose. Reaching into his pocket, he closed his fist around Indigo’s ring until the blue stone began to dig into his palm. When he saw her again, and he would see her again, he would make sure she understood the pain she had caused him.

•

In the hottest part of the day, he sat sheltered under the Kudaness wrap. The intensity of the heat without Ferin’s workings made forward progress slow and laborious. Heat permeated everything, dulling his senses as it closed in all around him, smothering him. He would wait until the sun began to fall and the temperature dropped again.

Without his footsteps to focus on, his thoughts drifted to Ferin and to the army that rushed toward his home. He could do nothing about either. Every day the army got further ahead of him. If he made it through Silik lands in one piece, he still had the Murak to deal with. They were peaceful with Lyra, other than the occasional petty harassments of the border towns, but Yiloch’s less than congenial encounter with Suac Chozai and the fact that he was coming from within Kudan on the heels of an invading army weren’t going to make him welcome. At best, they would greet him with suspicion. Worst case, well… worst case, he would join Ferin.

Did Adran know what had happened to him? He hated that the other man had to manage this chaos without him. Still, if anyone could hold things together, Adran could. He had proven that much when he kept Yiloch’s plans from collapsing while his father had him imprisoned. What would he be doing now? Was he preparing for the possibility that Suac Chozai’s prophecy might come to pass? Yiloch could only hope that he was. There was the possibility that Lyra had declared war with Caithin upon the abduction of their emperor. If that was the case, his empire was doomed. There was no way Lyra, still recovering from his takeover, could face Caithin and this new army at the same time.

Yiloch rubbed his temples in an effort to fight the growing headache his thoughts brought him. More than anything, he needed to rest now, while he couldn’t travel. It would avail him nothing to worry about things he couldn’t control.

He allowed himself to doze for a time, catching some sleep now so that he could continue traveling through the night. As he drifted off, he thought how nice it would be to find the next Silik village full of bodies like the first two had been. Let them suffer, he thought, his lips pressed together in a bitter line, let them suffer for Ferin’s death a thousand-fold.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

They continued traveling south and Indigo grew more nervous with each passing day. The road took them through a narrow pass in a stretch of steep, but low-slung mountains. The rugged terrain made it hard to keep up their pace. They made the journey up and back down the other side in a few days of relative silence. The arduous trek wore down the horses and their riders so they set up camp a little early when they reached the bottom of the pass on the second day.

Indigo was relieved to stop. As much as she wanted to find Yiloch, she wasn’t sure what kind of greeting to expect from the Kudaness and, more importantly, what kind of greeting to expect from Yiloch if they did find him. She wanted to believe he would forgive her, but, if she tried to imagine events from his side, she couldn’t imagine him feeling anything short of loathing for her. In her hunger for knowledge, she had ignored her instincts and allowed Serivar and Myac to use her. In short, she had been a fool. Could he forgive her for that? Could she?

Pulling away from her miserable ponderings, she sat by the fire and watched Cadmar. He rested back against a log with his eyes closed. Without seeing those out of place pale green eyes, one would never know he wasn’t full-blooded Kudaness. Did he believe in the gods of the Kudaness, or did he share the Lyran belief that there were no gods and life was born from divergences in ascard that existed in all things?

Ascard energy, the ultimate power that made so much possible. The common denominator that made them all alike and yet so very different. The Lyran belief struck her as incomplete. What brought about the divergences in ascard if not God? Lyra boasted no common religion if not worship of ascard itself, but even that was undercut by the casual way they used it. The tribes of Kudan attributed ascard to a pantheon of gods and therefore considered its deliberate manipulation sacrilege. It was a wonder the two races didn’t kill each other.

“Do you wish to share any of those thoughts?”

Cadmar’s deep voice startled her. Lost in her own thoughts, she hadn’t noticed him watching her. “I was just wondering about your beliefs. If you follow the Kudaness religion or the Lyran… lack of one.” Her brow furrowed and she touched her fingers to her lips, realizing how inappropriate it was to bring up such a thing so casually. “I’m sorry. That really is none of my concern.”

Cadmar chuckled. “We are not at a society gathering, my lady. All of your thoughts are welcome here. To assuage your curiosity, I will tell you that I am the worst of all sinners. I follow whatever belief will keep me out of trouble at any given moment.”

Indigo gaped at him and Ian looked up now, his interest sparked. “You have no religion? No belief system you follow. What about the Lyran belief that everything is born of ascard?”

Cadmar shrugged, the laughter in his eyes showing that he found her skepticism amusing. “I am no ascard user, my lady. Any knowledge I have of that is as much hearsay as the various gods are. I believe I exist. That is all I believe, but I can pretend any belief you like and will do so if the situation requires it.”

She marveled with reluctant admiration the ease with which he disregarded and used religion, or the lack of it, to his advantage.

A slow smile spread across Ian’s face. “Seems like a handy skill.”

Seeing the complete fascination in Ian’s gaze, staring at Cadmar as though he were a prophet of some kind, made her laugh. “What a fine trio we are. Apparently, we are even more diverse than we appear, and that is already considerable.”

“What do you believe, my lady?” Cadmar inquired, turning the tables.

She opened her mouth, intending to speak in support of her one god, The Divine. The words wouldn’t come. Looking into those pale eyes, the only testament to his split heritage, all of her recent experiences swept in on her and the words that came to her tongue suddenly lacked the conviction to make it past her lips. The familiar ache of loss filled her and the sting of tears came to her eyes. She lowered her gaze to the fire and spoke in a low voice. “I’m not sure I know anymore.”

Silence followed. She twisted the ring on her finger. What did she believe? If The Divine existed, why did He let such terrible things happen? Was all of this punishment for loving someone who was a nonbeliever?

The smoke from the fire drifted over to her, stinging her eyes and nose. She stood and backed away, scowling at the fire.

Cadmar grinned. “You may sit here, Lady Indigo,” he offered, moving to the ground and gesturing to the stump he’d been sitting on.

Accepting the seat, she resumed gazing into the fire. “You can just call me Indigo,” she said. “I haven’t proven to be much of a lady.”

Cadmar touched her hand and she turned to meet his eyes. “That, I do not believe. What I believe in is your love for Emperor Yiloch and the strength that lies within you. You will succeed, my lady.”

Locked in the intensity of his gaze, she could almost believe his words. The Divine knew she wanted to believe them.

A soft snore broke the moment and they turned to see Ian slumped over awkwardly by the fire.

Cadmar chuckled.

Indigo stood. “We can’t leave him like that. He’ll be a mess of knots by morning.”

Cadmar started to rise and she gestured for him to stay. “I’ve got it.”

Creating a soft barrier of ascard around him, she lowered the creator to the ground and put a blanket over him. He moaned in his sleep and she regarded him for a moment, startled by a powerful desire to protect him. With careful fingers, she brushed a strand of hair away from his lips. He smiled and curled up on his side. She turned back to the fire to find Cadmar watching her with a satisfied grin.

“What?” Had she missed some joke?

“Very much a lady.”

She blushed, unable to hide the pleasure his words brought her. She sat back down and gazed into the fire until her eyes began to droop then she laid down to sleep.

•

“Will we reach Kudan today?” She asked as they were riding out the next morning.

“If we keep up our pace,” Cadmar answered.

“There are a few larger Lyran cities on the Kudan border, aren’t there?”

Cadmar settled back in the saddle and eased his mount to a walk. He regarded her with unnerving intensity. Did he realize her question was as much to delay their progress as to garner information?

“Further west, there are. Where we’re crossing, there is a small village. They tried once to expand like the cities closer to the coast. The Murak complained that they could see the growing village from their northernmost village. When their complaints were ignored, they began raiding the village at night, stealing valuable construction tools and materials and frightening anyone foolish enough to be out after dark. The raids weren’t violent, but they were costly. Over time, people looking to expand the village gave up and moved west.”

“The Murak don’t sound like a very friendly people.”

Cadmar chuckled. “They are my people. My father was Murak. My mother was half Lyran and half Murak in flesh, all Murak in spirit.”

“Will they…” She trailed off, not sure how to phrase the question.

“They will not embrace you, Lady Indigo, but they will not harm you, not while you are in my care. Expect some hostility perhaps, in their manner, but not in their actions.”

She nodded. His words weren’t comforting. Still, it could be worse and she would have to be content with that. If she looked at it from a different perspective, it was a remarkable opportunity. It still wasn’t unheard of for the occasional Caithin to go traveling in Lyra, but not in Kudan. The desert was as unwelcoming as the people who lived there. Very few Caithin would risk becoming stranded there amidst a people who would happily leave them to die. She was traveling into Kudan with a man who was at least partly of them. It was an unprecedented opportunity to learn firsthand about the Kudaness people if she could get past her fear.

Cadmar gave her a questioning look and she nodded. He urged his mount up to a trot. The other horses followed suit, Tantrum tossing his head even with her influence on him. She held her mount back some, falling behind the others where she could think without their eyes upon her. A tendril of power revealed that Ian was nearly as nervous as she was. Cadmar remained a pillar of unfaltering calm. She envied him that.

They were only a few hours north of Kudan, walking to give the horses a break, when they heard the rumble, like approaching thunder. A storm was coming, but not in the sky above them. The horses began to prance about and Indigo spread the calming influence she was using on Tantrum to the other four. They left the road, moving well out into the sagebrush at Cadmar’s hasty orders.

“What is it?” His heightened alert drove her to speak in a hushed voice that could scarce be heard over the rumble. She resisted the urge to investigate with ascard to avoid wasting power she might need soon.

“I hope I’m wrong,” was all the dark warrior said and a chill coursed through her. “Ian, can you create a barrier to hide us?”

Ian nodded, his face drawn with worry. His eyes lost their focus as he turned to the task. As an extra precaution, Indigo sought out Ian’s barrier and worked a masking around it so that they would be invisible to ascard sense in addition to being physically invisible. He glanced at her and nodded appreciation. They waited and she had to increase her influence on the horses as the noise got louder and the ground began to shake.

The source of the disturbance came into view over a gradual rise on the horizon. A swath of horsemen riding at a canter fifteen or more abreast, some far enough off the side of the road that Cadmar moved them further into the sagebrush. Behind the first rank of riders came another row, and another, until Indigo gave up trying to count. When the front rank was close enough that she could start distinguishing facial features, there were still more riders coming over the distant rise.

Calming herself with the same skill she was using on the horses, she examined the fast moving army. The horses were shorter and thicker than any she had seen before, but very strong, and fast despite their stature. The animals were mostly bay, with an occasional dun or dusty gray mixed in. The men who rode them were also stocky and thickly muscled. Their skin was darker than Lyran and lighter than Kudaness, almost a Caithin tone, but more olive gray than light bronze. Their hair appeared to be almost universally black and worn loose around wide, pronounced features and deep-set dark eyes. There was nothing at all familiar about them, not in her personal experience nor in anything she had read. The weapons they carried strapped to their backs looked like short spears, only they ended in a thick, swept blade nearly a foot in length.