Chained By Fear: 2 (29 page)

Torg sent four Asēkhas out as scouts, one in each direction. They sprinted through the grass and vanished, leaving no evidence of trampling in their wake. The remaining warriors took turns carrying the woman. By midafternoon the foothills were within sight, and there still was no sign of pursuit. One after another, the scouts returned. The last to appear was the only one with anything substantial to report. Churikā, the newest Asēkha as Sōbhana’s replacement, had witnessed wolves, Porisādas and monsters within a league of Kamupadana.

“But that’s not the worst of it,” Churikā said. “Mala was among them—and with him, a Kojin.”

“Let them come,” Bard growled. His memories of the cannibalistic Mogols were fresh in his mind, despite the many centuries that had passed since his traumatic boyhood.

“There are too many for us to face openly,” Torg said. “Flight is our best recourse.” Then he turned to Churikā. “Are we being followed?”

“Not yet. It’s as if we’re invisible.”

“But it will not take wolves long to pick up our scent,” Elu said worriedly. “And they run much faster than horses.”

“Your friend is correct,” Kusala said. “The wolves and their riders travel great distances quickly. We cannot outrun them over a long stretch.”

“It doesn’t matter how much danger we’re in,” Rathburt said. “Some of us are not Asēkhas. We must rest, eventually.”

“As you say, my lord,” Kusala said.

The chieftain’s reverence toward Rathburt amazed Ugga. “Is Master Slump a king, too?”

“In some circles,” Torg replied.

Rati and Podhana were sent ahead to search for a hiding place. By the time they returned, the rest of the party had reached the foothills. Great mountains loomed on their right.

“My lord, we found a shelter hidden by boulders on the side of a slope,” Rati said. “An angry stream blocks our way, but there’s a shoal on which to cross. I believe we’ll be safe there.”

“Lead us, then,” Torg said.

Once they reached the foothills, the woman demanded to be allowed to walk, and her wish was granted. They entered a dense forest. The oaks had not yet flowered, but a few of the other hardwoods had begun to bloom, filling the woods with sweet perfumes. After traveling another league, dusk approached like a centipede as broad as the sky. They encountered the stream and then passed along a series of rapids and eddies before finding the shoal. The woman started to cross on her own, but Tāseti came behind her and lifted her as easily as Kusala had earlier.

“If you were not ill, I’m sure you would be more than capable, my lady,” the Asēkha said. “But as of now, your body is not as bold as your mind.”

Though the water came up only to the knees of the warriors, the current was powerful and the rocks very slippery. Elu considered it for a moment and then wisely leapt onto Ugga’s shoulders. Even Rathburt succumbed, allowing Kusala to carry him. Lucius struggled but made it on his own. The others crossed easily, except for five of the Asēkhas, who were sent back to disguise the tracks left by Torg’s companions.

They marched another mile before reaching the rock shelter, and much of that was a difficult uphill climb. Try as she might, the woman couldn’t manage it, so the Asēkhas again took turns carrying her. But Torg avoided her, believing that Lucius would rage out of control if he touched her, and Torg wasn’t sure he could resist injuring the man if he were insulted again.

Torg was fully capable of eliminating Lucius in a manner that would appear accidental. But he pushed that thought aside, knowing it would upset the woman too much, which was the last thing he wanted to do. Her well-being was his prime concern, even if it meant swallowing his pride.

The shelter was tucked into the side of an abrupt incline. Giant oaks clung precariously to the steep slope, their roots as vulnerable as fingers. The entrance was about five cubits wide and only three tall, but it opened into a sizeable chamber. Once inside, even the Asēkhas, who were almost as tall as Torg and Ugga, could stand upright with room to spare.

Within the chamber it became too dark to see, so they dared a single torch in the far back. The Asēkhas, who carried their supplies in cloth packs wrapped around their waists, dealt out dried meat and fruit, including small squares of a green cactus called
Cirāya
that, when chewed, flooded the mouth with a tangy but refreshing juice. When Tugars were on the move, especially in the heat of the desert, they chewed the flesh of
Cirāya
for long stretches. Just a small amount kept a warrior going for a full day without any other food or liquid. In fact, the more the body relied on just the cactus juice, the more beneficial its effects became.

Bard and Ugga started to break out their own supplies, but Torg stopped them.

“Save that for later.”

After their quick meal, the Asēkhas fanned out along the hillside.

“Now would be a good time to sleep, if you can,” Torg said to the woman. A lingering glance passed between them. Then he crept out of the cave with Kusala, and he and the chieftain climbed up the slope and sat on a ledge of banded gneiss. They clasped forearms and stared silently at each other for fifty short breaths, in honor of the number of years it took to become a warrior.

Finally Torg spoke. “Kusala, I apologize for my behavior at Dibbu-Loka. I struck you with Obhasa and humiliated you. Can you forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive, my lord. Your word is law.” Then the chieftain’s eyes glowed. “There was a time we believed you were no longer. Our connection to you was severed. Even the Vasi masters lost hope. But then you re-emerged in our consciousness. Every Tugar heard your call. I summoned the Asēkhas, and we left Anna the next morning, but it still took us months to find you. Early on, scouts who had encountered Sōbhana along the river brought reports. But later, there was no word of you anywhere. We sent hawks and owls, but even their keen eyes could not locate you. It was as if you were in disguise. My lord, how could you be gone and yet not gone?”

“Every time I achieve
Sammaasamaadhi
, I am gone and yet not gone. But I don’t mean to bandy with words. Let me try to explain.”

As briefly as possible, Torg described his long journey with Mala; his encounters with Bhayatupa and Invictus at Avici; his imprisonment in the pit; and finally the death of Sōbhana.

“I was lost to you and the Tugars as soon as I was lowered into the pit. As for being ‘in disguise,’ let’s just say that the poisons and evil magic changed my appearance. Only recently have I returned to my former self. So it’s possible your spies saw and yet didn’t recognize me. More likely, they flew the other way in a panic.”

Kusala allowed himself a brief laugh, but then his serious side took over, as was his custom. “Sōbhana was a great warrior. Churikā sensed her death and ascended at that moment, but we knew nothing else of her fate until now. She will be sorely missed.”

“I will never forget her,” Torg said. “Her place among the great is beyond question.”

Kusala nodded. Then he said, “It’s a long journey from Anna to Kamupadana. We rode camels to Dibbu-Loka and then marched from there to Nissaya. The black knights knew nothing of your whereabouts, but they did not take the threat of Invictus lightly. I have never seen the fortress so well-prepared. At least fifty thousand walk the wall. And they have nearly one hundred conjurers, as well.”

“That is welcome news, though I have heard some of it already. What do you know of Jivita?”

“We’ve heard that the White City is also strong, boasting more than forty thousand horsemen and thousands more infantry.”

“Yet the army of Invictus is greater still,” Torg said. “I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Jivita, Nissaya and Anna combined are outnumbered two-to-one—and that, just against his main strength, which includes many terrible creatures. Countless more will join the Sun God when summoned, including the druids, whose numbers are unknown. Alas, if only the Tugars were as prolific as their enemies. We have only ten thousand warriors. I fear we are too few.”

“The Tugars are never to be underestimated,” Kusala said fiercely. “But your concerns are well taken. And not all news from the fortress was good. Nissaya and Jivita are on poor terms. Neither seems willing to aid the other, both desiring to remain within their borders. In some ways I can’t blame them.”

“Intelligent decisions are one thing, disharmony another. If ever there was a need to band together against a common foe, it is now. Even unified we will be hard-pressed. Divided we will be easy prey.” Torg grew silent. When he looked up, his eyes glowed blue-green in the darkness. “How are the Tugars dispersed?”

“Despite the protection of the Simōōn, I did not wish to leave the citizens of Anna entirely unguarded, so I ordered Asēkha-Dvipa to remain in the Tent City with one thousand warriors. I then sent two thousand each to Nissaya and Jivita. The remaining five thousand are camped on the northern shore of Lake Hadaya, ready to march east or west, wherever the need is greatest.”

“You’ve done well,” Torg said with relief in his voice. “Thank you, chieftain. My faith in you has always been rewarded. But there’s more I must tell you before I speak with the woman.”

“I’ve seen the way you look at her. Is there a special attraction?”

“We shall see what we shall see.”

“As you say, my lord. What are your wishes?”

“My heart tells me that Invictus has not left Anna out of his plans. Tējo is our guardian, and the Simōōn remains impassable, but Invictus has powers that are beyond anything we have faced before. If he has devised a means to threaten the Tent City, then you must be there to counter him. My command is for you to return to Anna at dawn.”

“But lord
 . . .
who will protect
you
?”

“The Asēkhas will stay with me—except for four of your choosing. You are to return the way you came, along the eastern foothills of the Mahaggatas. I want one of your party to go to Nissaya, the second to join our force at Hadaya, the third to proceed to Jivita, and the fourth to patrol the banks of the Ogha just north of Senasana.”

Torg briefly described his ordeal in the ziggurat to the chieftain, including the threat of the
undines
.

“It will be as you command,” Kusala said. “And where will you and the remaining Asēkhas go?”

“We cannot travel the same path as you,” Torg said. “East of the mountains, Invictus is too strong, and I have no desire to make it easy for him to hunt me down. My plan is to stay north of Gamana until I pass by Dhutanga. From there, I’ll travel south to Jivita.”

“My heart is lighter knowing that some of the Asēkhas will journey with you, though my instincts tell me that I’ll be of no use at Anna.”

“If you’re wasted at Anna, then
my
heart will be lighter. Tell me one other thing before we part. How go Sister Tathagata and the noble ones?”

“They rest comfortably in the haven.”

“Good. When you return, bring them with you to Anna. And tell the
Perfect One
that I miss her. She’ll scoff at that, but do it anyway.”

“As you say, my lord.”

“And thank you for taking such good care of Obhasa for me. I didn’t feel whole without it.”

When Torg returned to the rock shelter, the crescent moon had already set, the skies were overcast, and the night had become as black as the shivery depths of Lake Ti-ratana. While Kusala collected reports from the Asēkhas, Torg crept into the chamber. Some of his companions were asleep and snoring, but the warriors had smeared a paste of mint on the offending nostrils, reducing the intensity. Despite the sputtering torch, it was even darker inside the chamber than out, but the Asēkhas moved about effortlessly, using senses other than sight to navigate their surroundings.

Torg willed Obhasa to glow just enough to illuminate a portion of the chamber. Bard, Ugga, Rathburt and Elu slept soundly. Lucius lay next to the woman, asleep but restless. Torg knelt next to him and lowered his mouth close to his face.

“
Niddaayahi
,” he whispered.

Blue vapor slipped into Lucius’ nostrils, and he grew still.

But the woman was awake, staring at him with wide eyes.

Torg held out his large hand. “Will you come with me?” he said in a tender voice.

She did not resist.