The Silver Arrow (28 page)

The last thing he remembered
was the former Patron dropping to the ground.

“We have much to talk about,
but not now,” Annora said as several dozen questions ran through
Iseac’s head. “I will send your friends in and have someone bring
you something warm to eat; make your visit brief this time, if you
can.”

“Thank you,” Iseac said. It
seemed inadequate, but that was all he could think of.

She nodded once in
acknowledgement of his gratitude. “Your clothes will be ready for
you in the morning.” She closed the door behind her.

It wasn’t long before Samuel,
who was smiling with relief, Mosley, and Tremay walked in.

“Elena was asked by the
priestess to send us out if we kept you up too long,” Samuel
said.

“So, how do you feel?” Tremay
asked. His arm was rolled up in a bandage that was looped around
his neck for support.

“I feel better seeing all of
you,” Iseac replied. Flashes of the former Patron dropping to the
ground ran through his mind. “What happened, and how did we end up
here?”

“Annora has a special gift,”
Tremay said. “She sent men to watch out for a sign before the
battle with Bollan.”

Bollan, Iseac thought. It was
the first time he made the link to one of the freed people from the
marble seal, wondering how Tremay did it.

“They were asked to watch for
the silver arrow that would come, and the men were instructed to
protect Samuel and the people with him,” Tremay said. “Once they
saw the sign, they came to our aid. Taken by surprise, some of the
Norians and Golans fled when Rogan was killed by one of the
priestess’ men. They brought us here to Olinar so you could be
helped.”

It hadn’t been more than ten
minutes when Elena walked in carrying a tray.

“Okay, it’s time to go,” she
said.

“I believe this is yours,”
Mosley said, placing Iseac’s quarterstaff by his bedside.

“We’d better leave,” Tremay
said, saluting. Taking their cue, they each nodded, saluting in the
same manner before making their way out of his room.

Iseac’s initial concern for his
friends had blinded him from noticing how stunningly beautiful
Elena looked, with her red gown laced over her white chemise.

“This is not the time to be
daydreaming of what might never be,” he said to himself. “A war is
coming, and time is running out for the other two.” He needed to
find them.

As he ate, Elena sat on the
chair by his bed. They didn’t say what they were really thinking,
but made small talk, avoiding the more personal topics, such as
their future together−if they were ever going to have one.

Outside the cave, Faray
listened as Samuel told him all that had transpired after their
separation. His encounter with the Agoras at the mines; finding
Iseac and the Ackalan named Mosley passing through their town; his
escape from Golans as he fled to Bremah after Iseac’s capture; his
meeting with Gabram the Patron; and his unlocking, about which he
chose not to go into details.

Faray listened, impressed with
his brother’s resourcefulness; it was also heartbreaking knowing
that his gift was also a curse. Each time he used it, it severed
his ties to his family and people close to him.

His memories of them over time
would slowly wash away, like a sandcastle built the day before a
storm. He inevitably would be drawn to the source of his power and
be removed from them all. If this was his brother’s destiny, could
he change it or help him accept what he was becoming? Faray knew
this troubled Samuel.

While Faray had lost all hope,
locked in a cage like an animal, Samuel hadn’t given up on them. If
there was ever a time he needed to be strong and supportive of his
younger brother, this was the time.

“I’ve always wondered since we
were kids why you were only interested in the bow,” Faray said.
“You never took any interest in the sword. Now I see why.
Regardless of what happens, I know Mother and Father are proud of
you.”

“What are you going to do now?”
Samuel asked, knowing there was nothing back home for them.

“Well...” and as Faray was
speaking, Samuel could feel something had changed. It wasn’t
anything he could see, just sense. The soft breeze that was once
constant now had a soft pulsing feel mixed in. It was gradually
growing, as if drawing close to him, and he turned toward the
direction of the pulse just before someone appeared from within the
woods.

“You are wanted inside,” said a
tall man with a complexion similar to Tremay’s olive brown skin.
Faray turned in surprise. The man had made no sound; if it wasn’t
for Samuel turning to face his direction, he wouldn’t have
known.

“Follow me,” the man said,
gesturing as he led the way.

Iseac and Tremay were already
inside waiting when Samuel and Faray arrived at a strange entrance
covered in vines. “He will have to wait here,” the man said,
looking at Faray. “The others are waiting for you inside.”

The vines were parted by two
women who stood at the entrance. A non-skilled observer would not
have seen the plants move apart without the women actually touching
them. These were Sekamin vines, a rare plant that would kill a man
within hours of touching it, but it had no effect on women.

Samuel walked into a
dome-shaped room with the floor covered in trimmed grass that
looked like a green rug. Vines and bamboo trees lined the walls and
the room smelled like spring with blossoming flowers. Young women
in pairs stood around four entrances. They were all dressed in
brown gowns, with wide hanging sleeves and white broaches pinned
above their right breast.

Mats were set in a semicircle
for each of them to sit. As Samuel sat looking around in amazement,
the vines were parted and Annora stepped inside.

“We do not have much time, so I
will only tell you what you need to know. The hand of the shadow
knows you are here, and they will soon be upon us.” Samuel looked
at Iseac and Tremay; they seemed unperturbed. “There will be horses
waiting for you when you leave, and you have to hurry. Your brother
is already on his way,” she said to Samuel. “Iseac should be able
to help you find your way once you are outside. There will be
supplies for you and your men,” she told Tremay.

“I was told your men came to
our aid,” Iseac said. While he’d been thinking about asking how she
knew they had needed help, he decided not to; it wasn’t relevant at
the moment, so he said instead, “Thank you for everything.”

“It is our duty,” she replied,
“and I hope we meet again soon, since time does not favor us.” She
handed Iseac a parchment.

“This is for the king of
Ditra-Vashine, and like every other king, he will be honored by
your visit. Your amulet is the key to any of the Kingdoms. Let it
be seen and you will have passage,” she said.

“Could this be true?” Iseac
wondered, as he always had it tucked underneath his garment.

“The one born of the scroll
will soon be known by all, and he needs to be prepared,” she said
before they all felt the faint vibration.

“They are here,’” she said,
gesturing for two of the young women to open the vines.

“We can help your men defend
this place,” Tremay said, the natural instinct of an Ackalan
showing.

“I know,” Annora replied, “but
not this time. Now go!”

It was hard to argue with a
woman who knew things before they happened. So Tremay bowed his
head in salute as he left. Iseac did the same, following behind
Tremay. Samuel wanted to ask a question, and then hesitated, but
she saw it.

“Young man, is there something
you would like to ask me?”

“Yes.” Samuel dipped his hand
in his pocket. “I need to find the owner of this ring and was
wondering if you could point me in his direction.”

She held out her hand without
saying a word, and Samuel placed the ringed necklace in it.

As soon as the ring touched her
palm, images of the baby she remembered holding at the cave
entrance flooded her memory.

“The owner of the necklace is
around the eastern land of Bayshia,” she said. She did not ask
where he found it as she placed the necklace back in Samuel’s hand.
Her finger brushed his and she looked him straight into his
eyes.

“Do not be afraid of what you
are to become.”

Samuel stood there for another
second before running to join the others.

When Iseac stood up and started
walking, his vision suddenly went out of focus and things around
him became blurry. He slowed down for a brief second, resting his
hands against the cave wall as he moved. Just as Samuel approached,
his vision came back. Iseac was glad no one noticed.

“We’d better keep up with her,”
Samuel said to Iseac as they were led by one of the women to an
exit. They came out through a narrow entrance where horses were
waiting for them, just as Annora said. Elena and the others were
already there. As they mounted their horses, one of Annora’s men
stepped out into the clearing.

Tremay, who was about to mount
his horse, stopped. The man held a boy by the collar of his shirt.
Tremay recognized him immediately: it was the scruffy-looking boy
who had wanted to join them. Jude, he remembered, was his name.

“Release him,” Tremay said, and
the man did. Jude straightened himself.

“This is yours, sir,” he said
as he held out his hand. Tremay recognized the hilt of the object;
it was his shortsword.

“This weapon has served me
well,” Tremay said, “and I know it will do the same for you. You
may keep it. Remember, it will protect you if you take care of
it.”

The boy looked at him, unsure
of what to say. “Thank you, sir,” he said as Tremay mounted his
horse and they rode off into the woods.

****************

When Bollan opened his eyes
again, drawn from the abyss of oblivion back into his body, he
discovered that he was standing in midair on a stage in a room he
recognized. He was dressed in his same clothes, with bloodstains
showing where arrows once protruded from his flesh. The arrows were
no longer there. He peered into the dark around him and could see
veiled faces with their eyes staring on him. They, like him, were
some of the highest-ranking men within his Lord’s sphere. He
remembered taking the same oath as them.

Following their gaze, Bollan
looked up to see a being sitting on a pedestal and his heart
dropped. He knew who had claim on his soul as he looked into the
eyes of his Lord. They blazed like hot coals on a winter’s night.
His master’s form was different, but the eyes were the same. He had
freed him from the marble seal and promised him power and
immortality.

Bollan opened his mouth to
speak, but nothing came out. As he stood there in terror, his
master opened his hand and Bollan’s ring came loose, flying off his
finger. It flew through the air and came to rest in his master’s
palm. He looked at Bollan as he crushed the ring. Bollan puffed
into dust and was gone.

“You have your promise,” the
man said in a haunting voice that pricked those in the room. The
man wore a black cloak, with the inside covered in a red silk that
covered most of his body. He had two red gems on each of his
wrists, held in place by a black rod that was woven around his
finger. The air seemed to still around him as he approached, and
everyone in the room bowed their head.

“Destroy the boy and bring me
the star of Lamtin,” the man said. “Now rise.” As those in the
circle rose, their rings began to glow and their master was
gone.

*******************

Interlude: The Anamerian
stopped writing and placed his pen by the side of his ink jar. He
waved his hand over the oil lamp and the lamp winked out. Tomorrow
they would continue their journey in the snow and hopefully make
their way through parts of Kadan’s Gate, if it froze tonight. They
should be able to cut their travel time and make it to the borders
of Ditra-Vashine, where part of their army would be waiting, he
hoped just before he closed his eyes.

An unusual ruckus was taking
place along the streets of Palmer when Jayden stepped out of his
room and headed down the old wooden stairs that creaked as he made
his way downstairs to the once-lively room. He stepped outside the
inn into the chilly night that reminded him that winter was fast
approaching.

He stood there in surprise as
flames from burning buildings on both sides of the street lit the
night sky. The Hengan Red Inn where he was staying was only a
hundred yards from one of those burning buildings.

Jayden looked around in
disbelief, unaware of what he was breathing in until he started to
cough from the smoke that filled the air. He placed his left arm
over his face, using his cloak as a shield.

The Hengan Red Inn was one of
the oldest buildings along this part of the street and the only
place he was able to find a room he could afford. The rundown
building was so old, Jayden knew it wouldn’t take much to set the
building ablaze and send it crumbling down.

He’d been happy to finally be
able to spend the coming winter somewhere warm, and not in a barn
or a makeshift tent. Now that was about to change. “Just when I
thought that maybe I could catch a break after three years of
continued hardship, this happens.”

If he could complain, he would
have; but there was no one to complain to, so he pulled his cloak
tightly around himself and stepped away from the inn into the
crowded street.

From what he could see, no one
was trying to douse the fires on the burning shops or inns.
Instead, the crowds were frantically rushing away from Terram, the
small farm town on the outskirts of Bayshia.

All sorts were on the road.
People with hand carts or mule carts, some carrying sacks, wagons
of varying sizes and shapes−rushing east to seek refuge in the
city.