Drogoya: Book 3 Circles of Light series (45 page)

‘Oh my stars,’ Olam
whispered. ‘Whatever could have befallen them so
suddenly?’

While Hargon forced the
pace of his men towards Tagria, Seboth was gathering his wounded
from the way station. He had sent word to his people that any with
a gift for healing should come forward to assist the injured
armsmen brought back to the barracks. He stated openly that he saw
no dangers in the old blood and he swore he would defend any of his
people, unusually talented or not. The people had heard of Hargon’s
decree of course, that any suspected of such old talents be
executed. For a day after Seboth’s call for healers, none came
forward.

Lady Lallia broke all
traditions by appearing publicly to announce that both she herself
and her Lord, bore the old blood and its concomitant powers. She
announced her pride in both facts, and the people began to respond.
Lallia was astonished by the number of those who presented
themselves at the House, revealing their talents in many areas
other than healing.

Seboth came back with
the first line of wagons carrying wounded armsmen. He was taken
aback by the results of Lallia’s action when he saw one of the long
barrack dormitories prepared as an infirmary and the crowd of
waiting healers. He supervised the unloading of the injured and
made the round of the dormitory, asking the names of all the
townsfolk who had risked all in admitting to their ability with the
power. When he eventually joined his wife in the sun tower
apartments, he looked at her with renewed admiration.

‘You are not angry
Seboth?’ she asked anxiously. ‘I thought that if I admitted that we
were both what Hargon would call tainted and accursed, our people
would be more willing to risk themselves.’

Seboth hugged her. ‘It
was a brilliant thought.’ He held her a little away from him, his
head tilted to one side. ‘Did Maressa suggest it to
you?’

‘Oh you.’ She punched
his ribs and moved to the fireside although she smiled. ‘I thought
of it, all by myself, you fool. Tell me of the men – are our losses
bad?’

Seboth stretched
himself on the pillows opposite her.

‘We have more dead than
I would ever wish, but Hargon’s losses.’ He shook his head. ‘I have
never seen so many armsmen slaughtered. A few survivors were found
and those who could speak, told a chilling tale.’ He glanced at
Lallia. ‘Maressa said that Hargon did not have this illness she
told us of?’

‘She said that it was
far worse than the affliction and that we must not go near him.’
Lallia shrugged. ‘She said no more than that.’

Seboth pulled his lower
lip between his thumb and forefinger. ‘Krov should be nearly to
Maressa and Brin by now I hope. Would it be all right to try to
mind speak them do you think?’

Lallia smiled. Seboth
still found it very odd to mention such a thing as mind speaking as
though it were the most natural thing in the world.

‘Hargon is approaching
Tagria is he not? I think it would be safe.’

‘I sent three messenger
birds ahead to warn Tagria, as well as two scouts. It would have
been wonderful to use Merigs, but far too dangerous for
them.’

Lallia let her hands
lie loosely in her lap and breathed deeply to calm her thoughts,
then sent her mind winging towards Maressa.

‘What is it Lallia –
please tell me no more trouble?’ Lallia felt Maressa’s
smile.

‘No. We think Krov
should soon be with you with the supplies you needed. Hargon is on
his way to Tagria. There has been much fighting Maressa, many dead
and injured.’

Maressa’s sympathy
flowed through the link.

Lallia explained that
she had called on the people of Far to help if they knew the old
magic ways, and had been overwhelmed by the response. Maressa’s
reply was reserved.

‘You must protect those
who have now exposed themselves Lallia. Should Hargon attack again,
or put any future captives to the question, they would be at
enormous risk.’

‘I told our people that
Seboth and I are as “guilty” as any of them.’

Maressa was silent,
shaken by the courage of this long secluded Sapphrean
woman.

‘Brin says that he can
sense riders approaching. I will speak with you ere we
depart.’

Maressa broke the link
with Lallia and cast her mental vision in the direction Brin
indicated. She found three men, dressed in the green uniforms of
Far, riding koninas and leading three more. She drew her mind back
to herself.

‘It is Seboth’s men,’
she told Brin. ‘They will be in sight soon if we go to the top of
the ravine.’

Brin’s eyes flashed.
‘And then we can go back to the coast,’ he said with
satisfaction.

Maressa laughed. ‘But
you cannot hunt the fish in the great waters Brin, you have to fly
quite a way to find food. Why do you like the coast so
much?’

She climbed onto his
back as she spoke and his huge crimson wings lifted them
effortlessly up the sheer wall of the ravine to settle on its
topmost edge.

‘I like the thought of
flying out over the water,’ he finally answered. ‘Perhaps I will
find land further off. I have seen such places - mostly rock, and
only just large enough for me to rest upon. But I would like to fly
on and on and on.’

His mind tone was
dreamy such as Maressa had never heard it, but she decided not to
question further now when she saw movement about two leagues to the
east. Brin had also seen the distant koninas and was checking the
area all around for any unexpected or unwelcome additions to
Seboth’s men. It took some time for the veteran Krov to reach the
massive Dragon and Maressa. Maressa recalled that Krov was Seboth’s
greatly valued Master of Arms, responsible for turning new recruits
into armsmen proficient with many weapons and skilled with at least
one.

She also remembered
that Krov was as aged as Pallin and guessed that was a contributory
factor for Seboth to send such a man away from Far at such a time.
She approved of Seboth’s discreet and tactful care for two old men
and greeted Krov with a smile.

‘I trust you met no
trouble?’ she asked when he had dismounted. ‘There was a group of
Hargon’s men who came upon us. When we lost them, they travelled
north.’

Krov ordered the two
armsmen with him to begin unloading the koninas. He eyed the great
Dragon reclining upon the rough grass assessingly.

‘You tell my men how
they should load that mighty one and they will do as you
wish.’

He blinked as Brin
began chatting in all their minds. Krov watched for a moment then
turned back to Maressa.

‘This group you saw
Lady – how many d’you reckon?’

‘About thirty I think.’
She hesitated. ‘At least one of them was using power, whether
knowing what he did or not. I suspect that he did know.’

Krov barked a laugh.
‘Don’t you worry Lady. I know more than I should. My father taught
me a thing or two then he beat me hard enough that I never would be
inclined to give myself away.’

Maressa looked puzzled.
Krov laughed again and nodded at her cloak, rolled and slotted
through her pack straps. It was Maressa’s turn to blink as the
cloak suddenly wriggled itself free, rose in the air and draped
itself around her shoulders. She grinned at Krov.

‘That was very good
Master of Arms!’ She pushed the cloak out of her way and stooped
for the pack.

‘Look. I made this map
for Lord Seboth. It shows two routes to the coast. There are places
with sweet water marked.’ She pointed to her map. ‘This northern
one is the way we first crossed the barren lands, and this one ends
here, or a little further south anyway. It is about two and a half
days to the first water, then two to the next. The longest gap is
on the northern route, between the fourth and fifth watering
places. It took us nearly four days between those.’

Krov took the map, his
expression one of deep interest.

‘We took fifteen days
in all to reach the coast that way. Brin takes only four to fly the
distance but I think this more southern route might be a day or
even two less than the northern one.’

Krov rolled the map
with care and tucked it inside his jacket. He gave her a shrewd
look.

‘Lord Hargon’s going to
come looking for you, you know. He is determined that he will kill
all strangers and all the Dragons.’

‘But from all I have
heard, he does not know of the watering places through those lands.
He could easily get caught too far out without water.’

Krov met her gaze. ‘I
have thought during this trip, and over the last ten day. I think
that Hargon has his very own tame power user. Too unlikely that
they found you so fast and so easy Lady. I suggest you keep sharp
watch when you meet up with your friends again.’

Maressa nodded slowly,
feeling somehow that veteran Krov could well be all too
correct.

To the north east,
Hargon had again divided his men: a hundred to keep Tagria nervous
and uncertain, and a hundred to follow him to the west. Messengers
had ridden to Return to order every available armsman to reinforce
the band surrounding Tagria. To the men around him, Hargon seemed
to be acting as if fevered. He ate little, drank water but
sparingly, and apparently needed no sleep. Hargon was unaware of
the exact location of the circle near Tagria and could spare
neither the men nor the time to search for it now. He demanded that
all the flasks from the armsmen staying behind be distributed among
those travelling on with him.

M’Raz had observed all
with interest, but was growing a little bored. The countryside did
not impress him, seen through Hargon’s eyes. He had yet to discover
the significance of the patterned circle which appeared obsessively
in Hargon’s thoughts, and the methods of killing were tedious in
the extreme. These simple creatures seemed quite unaware of the
delicious delights of savouring a protracted means of destroying
another creature. And it could be such fun. He had decided to allow
Hargon only a short while longer to prove himself worthy of hosting
M’Raz’s spirit.

He would let him make
this trip to the coast and then he would finally make up his mind.
M’Raz was interested in the younger man, Trib. He had shown himself
to be concerned only with himself, much more so than Hargon or any
of the other men. M’Raz too was only concerned with himself and he
appreciated finding a similarity at last in one of these beings.
Yes. If he discarded Hargon, Trib would do very nicely as a
replacement.

Chapter
Twenty-Eight

The two children
travelled down the Sy River, protected by the high bank, for most
of that afternoon. When the sun began to sink below the trees
ahead, Tyen grabbed at an overhanging branch and pulled them close
into the side. He looked over his shoulder at Mena and his teeth
showed white in the shadows when he gave her a quick
grin.

‘Look behind us
girl.’

Mena twisted round and
gasped. The huddled ruin of what had been the town of Syet lay
about seven or eight leagues distant already, but towering high
above the town was the mass of the Menedula. Its walls gleamed a
dull black in the fading sun but as before, Mena thought the black
stone sucked in the light rather than reflecting it as she believed
it once had done. It seemed to stretch upwards forever, but Mena
shivered. It was as if the great building was clawing at the very
sky, trying to pull it down inside itself. Again, she had the
sensation of having seen it before, when it raised itself joyfully
skywards – she shook her head to clear the suddenly blurred image.
How could she imagine a vast edifice such as the Menedula could
laugh and be merry?

The strange little boat
rocked when Tyen moved towards her.

‘We have to leave the
boat now. River gets narrower and goes under a bridge. Too
dangerous for us.’

Mena pictured her map
in her head. They needed to move away from the river with the
setting sun well to their left. At the moment, it shone straight
into her face. She recalled how the river squiggled away west and
south on the map: yes, they needed to leave it now and make their
way across the land.

Tyen tugged her arm and
motioned her to follow. So far, the only hint of any threat had
been the inhuman screams she had heard in the drain. Now there was
the sound of the river murmuring and gurgling on its way,
unfamiliar birdsong fluting from hidden places. But no sounds of
human life. Tyen was indicating that she should continue to move as
quietly as she could, informing Mena that they were far from being
out of danger. A breeze sprang up from the east, rattling branches
over their heads. Leaf buds showed on nearly all the bushes and
trees around, although Mena noted that a few trees stood starkly
bare still. Tyen led her just below the lip of the riverbank, then
paused. Carefully, he crept to the top and peeped over. He beckoned
urgently and Mena scrambled up beside him.

She saw a road in front
of them, paved with great slabs of grey stone, wide enough for two
or even three wagons to travel abreast. Tyen pointed straight
across to where fir trees lined the edge of the road. He drew her
to her feet, gripping her hand. Without warning, he was darting
forward, dragging her with him. They plunged into the firs and kept
running for more than a hundred paces. Tyen released her hand and
leaned on a tree trunk, half bending to catch his breath. Mena too
stooped, hands on her knees as she tried to slow her
panting.