Harbinger: Fate's Forsaken: Book One (19 page)

“Good night my
delicate, dew-covered rose!” Jonathan called after her. Then he muttered: “I
think they must make women’s undergarments with a bunch already in them.”

Kael thought he
was lucky she wasn’t armed. “You shouldn’t badger her like that.”

“Eh, it’s good
for her,” he said, scratching his chin. “A woman who doesn’t get badgered
enough just becomes one, that’s what my mum always says — and she should
know. You ought to see the way my pap lights out anytime she walks into a room.
Now that’s love.” He tossed his fiddle on the ground and the strings twanged in
protest. Then he collapsed on his bedroll, his long limbs splayed out in every
direction, and immediately started to snore.

Chaney and
Claude were next to wander up. They congratulated him through the thick rings
of sauce around their lips and begged him to cook more chicken tomorrow. Only
after their chattering turned into snores did Kyleigh drop down from her hiding
place.

“Well, I thought
that
would never end,” she said as
she brushed bits of bark off her sleeves.

“It was your
idea to hide up there,” he reminded her.

“Well, it was
your
idea to drag those stories out for
ages.”

She wasn’t
smiling. In fact, she was standing with her hands propped dangerously on her
hips. He quickly got to his feet. “It’s not like I meant for them to go on,” he
said, raising his voice over the noise of Jonathan’s snores. “She kept asking
for another story. What was I supposed to do?”

Kyleigh crossed
her arms. “You might have just told her you didn’t want to.”

“I never said I
didn’t want to.” He spoke slowly, as clearly as he possibly could. “I don’t
mind talking to her. And if you didn’t want to listen then you should have just
come down and tried on the dress.”

Fire blazed
behind her eyes. She stepped up to him, but he stood his ground. “Oh? And I bet
you would’ve enjoyed that, wouldn’t you? You’d like to see me put in my place.
You’d prefer me to prance around like a wind-brained ninny —”

“I don’t
care
.” It took all of his
not-so-considerable patience to keep from shoving her back. “I don’t care what
you do. I don’t care what you wear. A dress, breeches, nothing at all — I
don’t care.”

The fire in her
eyes died to embers. She seemed on the verge of saying something else, but
instead she turned and walked away.

“Where are you
going?” he called after her.

“I thought you
didn’t care.”

When he
followed, she broke into a run, and he found himself sprinting just to keep up.
It wasn’t long before she outdistanced him. Soon the darkness swallowed her
black armor and muffled her footsteps, leaving him with only the noise of his
own labored breath.

“Fine! Go on,
then!” he shouted into the trees. It felt good to yell at her, even if she
couldn’t hear him. He kicked a hapless branch out of his way and headed back to
camp — thinking that perhaps Jonathan had been right about women’s
undergarments, after all.

The next day
dragged by at the pace of a one-legged turtle. It began extra early, when
Garron shook them awake to inform them that they were not to go trapping.

“The bandits are
thickest in the woods around the city,” he said, his voice far too loud and
commanding for the hour. “I don’t like to have my men spread out all over the
place. It makes us an easy target. Stay close, and keep your bows at the ready.
Understood?”

“Yes sir!”
Chaney and Claude shouted in unison.

Kael mumbled
something unintelligible and as soon as Garron was gone, he tried to go back to
sleep.

He’d stayed up
most of the night, waiting for Kyleigh. At first, he was angry: he wanted her
to come back so he could give her a piece of his mind. She shouldn’t have been
so snappy, she shouldn’t treat him like her enemy and she certainly shouldn’t
go wandering off by herself at night.

Then as the
hours changed, so did his feelings. At midnight, he began to worry: what if she
was lost? What if she’d been taken by bandits, or eaten by wolves? He got up
several times to put more wood on the fire. He circled the entire camp twice;
he even walked to the edge of the forest and shouted her name.

Only the
crickets answered him.

The first
morning hours brought new worries. He began to fear that she’d left him. She
didn’t need him, after all, and he
had
told her to go away several times. So that was it, then. She was gone.

With that
horrible realization, a new feeling struck him. The air around him felt empty,
like he could reach his hand back for miles and never touch anyone he cared
about. The merchants were kind enough, but they didn’t really know him. He
couldn’t trust them with his secret. And even if he could, they would still
never know him like Roland, or Amos … or Kyleigh.

And he realized quite
suddenly that he was completely, incurably on his own. That he was alone.

More
time passed: slow, empty time. Then at the darkest hour of the night, just
before the sun was set to rise, he felt something. It was a shift in the sky
— a fullness that despair convinced him he’d never feel again. He reached
behind him and his fingers touched the strange, interlocking material of
Kyleigh’s armor. He was too relieved to be angry with her. And when she put her
hand on his, he found he was too tired to pull away.

But that had
been hours ago. Now the sun was blaring its insufferable light over the
treetops, and all he wanted to do was sleep. Horatio had other ideas.

“Wake up,
m’boy!” he said as he ripped the blanket off of him. “It’s a long travel day so
we’ve got to get lunch packed by breakfast, and dinner packed by lunch.”

“When’s
breakfast?” Kael grumbled as he pulled himself to his feet.

Horatio stuffed
a roll of bread and a cup of water in his hands. “Breakfast is now!” he
bellowed, steering him towards the food cart.

Garron woke the
camp with an order that the caravan was to leave in half an hour. Men scrambled
out of bed and lined up behind the cook’s cart, squinting out through heavy
eyes. Some were still in the process of pulling on their trousers or buttoning
their shirts. Some didn’t bother getting dressed past their undergarments. They
took the bread and fruit Kael gave them, and muttered curses when Horatio
hollered not to forget their lunch sacks.

When breakfast
was dolled out, they climbed into the wagon and packed sacks for dinner while
it rolled. At noon, Horatio arranged a mountain of rations on a large wooden
tray and sent Kael to pass them out. It was a dull task, and the only one who
gave him any trouble was Jonathan. He would sprint by and grab another sack
when he thought Kael wasn’t looking. The third time he did it, Kyleigh stuck
out her boot and sent him flying into the side of the jewelry cart.

He didn’t come
back for fourths.

When Kael passed
the last dinner out, Horatio told him he was through for the day and sent him
outside. Having nothing to do forced him to realize just how tired he was,
which made the second half of the afternoon all the more torturous.

He was hoping to
get a few minutes to himself when Kyleigh found him. She seemed to sense that
he was in no mood to talk, and so she walked beside him in silence. He didn’t
mind having her around, really. If he didn’t turn to look at her, he never
would have known she was there. But then Aerilyn found Kyleigh and the two of
them started chatting about market. And then Jonathan had to butt himself into
their conversation and add a good deal of rudeness to every topic they covered.
Kael’s quiet afternoon went out with the breeze.

“That isn’t
true,” Aerilyn said, her brows snapped low. “No one in the Endless Plains
dances naked for the harvest.”

Jonathan
shrugged. “There’s got to be a reason why the crops grow so tall, that’s all
I’m saying.”

“Yes, but it has
nothing to do with nudity,” Aerilyn huffed. Then she turned back to Kyleigh.
“Have you ever tried desert spice rice?”

“Once, but I
haven’t been to Whitebone for years — and I doubt I’ll be getting an
invitation anytime soon.”

“I love the
desert,” Aerilyn said, her eyes shining. “The culture is so fascinating. And
the spice rice is practically to die for —”

“You’ll feel
like you died, all right,” Jonathan piped in. “First time I had that stuff, it
turned me inside out. I’m beginning to get a little burn now, just thinking
about it.”

Aerilyn swatted
him with the back of her hand. “You are so
rude
!”

“Is it really
that spicy?” Kael wondered.

“Not really,”
Kyleigh said with a shrug.

Jonathan
whistled. “Well, you must have a stronger stomach than me. I’ll tell you what,
I was burning so bad I thought my —”

“That’s quite
enough!” Aerilyn said, smacking him again. “I refuse to be privy to every
disgusting detail of your —
experiences
.”

“
Privy
is definitely the word I’d use,”
Jonathan muttered to Kael.

“Anyways,”
Aerilyn said over the top of him, “I was so hoping that we’d get to visit some
of the island villages along the coast — they sell the most beautiful
jewelry. But,” she sighed, “Papa says it’s still too dangerous.”

“Wait, why is it
so dangerous?” Kael said.

She looked at
him incredulously. “Because of the pirates, of course! Haven’t you heard?”

He shook his
head.

“Well, I’m
surprised you haven’t: it’s quite the scandal. Apparently, the pirate attacks
have really picked up over the last few years. There’s a rumor going around
that Duke Reginald is beginning to suspect his managers have something to do
with it — that his men are in cahoots with the pirates. It’s causing all
sorts of turmoil and sudden beheadings.”

Kael knew a
little about the Duke’s rule from what he’d heard around the caravan. It wasn’t
long after he became Duke that Reginald bought up all of the boats in the High
Seas. Then he set shipping prices so high that none of the merchants could
afford to pay them. When a shopkeeper lost his business, Reginald gobbled it up
— slowly turning the seas into the King’s personal highway. And instead
of keeping a class of nobles, Reginald assigned managers to his different shops
and ships. He paid them a set wage and in return, they made sure the Sovereign
Five’s shipments made it safely across the Kingdom.

All he knew
about pirates was what he’d read in the
Atlas
:
they were greedy men who would gladly spill blood for treasure. But as long as
they were attacking Duke Reginald, he didn’t think he minded. “What’s so odd
about that? The Duke is the only one who’s got any coin on the High Seas. He
should expect to get plundered.”

Aerilyn rolled
her eyes. “It’s not about the fact that he’s getting plundered, it’s
how
he’s getting plundered.”

For once,
Jonathan nodded in agreement. “I’ve heard all kinds of rumors from the chaps I
throw cards with. Odd things have been happening on the seas, eerie
coincidences and the like. Things that would make any salty sailor curl up and
cry for his mum.”

“Oh? What sorts
of things?” Kyleigh said, looking slightly amused.

“Storms.”
Aerilyn’s eyes were serious. “People say clouds billow up from the waves and
turn into squalls violent enough to flip a vessel. And then,” she waved her
hand, “the storm gets sucked back down into the sea. It disappears … and so
does the ship.”

“There’s mist,
too,” Jonathan added. “White fogs too thick to find your rump in. Ships sail
into them, and they never sail out.”

“Sounds to me
like they’re just being careless,” Kyleigh said.

Aerliyn frowned
at her. “They’re not. The managers think it’s the work of a witch — that
the pirates are being helped by magic. And of course Reginald thinks they’re
making it all up.”

“Speaking of
pirates,” Jonathan cut in, “I hear they’ve got a knife-throwing game that’s
completely legendary. If you lose, they feed you to the sharks …”

Time slowly
changed the Valley. It started as a warm, lively oasis — then the sun
began to slide behind the mountains. Purplish shadows crept down from the
summit and wrapped it up, silencing the song of life for moment at dusk. Soon
the crickets’ chirping replaced the hum of bees, and strange new life began
again. When the stars came out, Garron ordered that torches be lit, and the
wagons rolled on in the ghoulish orange light. Most shadows melted away as they
passed, but there was a great shade in the distance that never moved.

As they got
closer, Kael saw the giant shadow was actually a wall of trees. Their tops had
been chopped into points and they were crammed so close together that he
doubted if a breeze could fit between them. The wall was thrice the height of
one of Garron’s carts. High towers jutted out from the corners, warmth glowing
in their windows.

The caravan
rolled to a stop at a massive pair of wooden doors set into the wall. Garron
signaled for them to stay back and approached alone. “Hail, Crow’s Cross! A
caravan seeking entrance, if you please.”

A torch bobbed
into view as he spoke. It came out from one of the towers and floated along the
top of the wall, bouncing until it was even with the caravan. “Hail!” a rough
voice shouted back. “And who’s this I’m speaking to?”

“Garron the
Shrewd,” he replied, holding his torch up so that the watchman could see his
face.

“Well why didn’t
you say so? I’ll lower the gate.” And the light bobbed away.

A minute later,
the large doors creaked open. Armored men stood guard as the caravan passed
through, their mouths stuck firmly as their eyes scanned over every detail of
the carts.