Foretellers (The Ydron Saga Book 3) (12 page)

“I lied. It’s not out of courtesy, or at least that’s not the primary reason. There was a time when it was, but not any more. I do respect others’ privacy but… ” He paused and looked back at her. “I also wonder what kind of monster I’ve become.”

“You haven’t hurt me. You haven’t hurt Halli or Broodik. Or Miened,” countered Pandy.

“And I don’t intend to. But I live in constant fear of the next one I’ll harm.”

He went to the endaths and started to pack.

Over the course of the day, the terrain grew increasingly steep until an arm of the Tairenth Mountains running east to west, separating Meden from Borrst, cut across their route. Peniff explained why circling was out of the question. It would add two or more days to their journey and carry them into a region where many of the worst fires were burning. The only alternative would be to cross over it.

“Scarcely two months ago,” Peniff said, trying to address her undisguised concern over making such a treacherous climb, “when I was Harad’s prisoner and we were tracking down Bedistai and Darva, they evaded us by taking their endaths down terrain I would have considered impossible. Even though I’ve never attempted anything similar, I don’t think these mountains will pose an unreasonable obstacle for either Chossen or Tuweh. And if it were, I don’t think I could make them attempt it.”

Despite her initial concern, Pandy elected to accept his decision. And, in fact, neither endath showed any signs of fatigue or difficulty as they negotiated the steepening route. As a result, Pandy paid the ascent only part of her attention as a new vision began to arise.

Abruptly, she turned in the saddle and declared, “We won’t be going to Liad-Nur.”

“You’ve changed your mind?” Peniff asked.

She shook her head.

“I still need to go there, but you shouldn’t come with me.”

“That’s out of the question!”

“You will escort me to Nagath-réal. From there, I will complete my journey with one of Obah Sitheh’s commanders.”

“I haven’t come this far, only to turn around… ”

“Your family is in danger. Even as we speak, Harad is preparing to attack Mostoon. He hates you for what you did to him.”

“But… ”

“No buts. I appreciate all you’ve done for me. I couldn’t have made it this far without you, but right now your family needs you more. I only wish I had seen this sooner. Take me to Nagath-réal. I need you to introduce me to one of Obah Sitheh’s officers. After that, you need to return to your family.” When he opened his mouth to object, she said, “I won’t hear another word.”

They barely spoke for the rest of the day as Pandy attempted to suppress all thoughts surrounding the real reason behind her abrupt change of mind.

Shipments from faraway lands with fabled names like Mitheron, Glaudion and Shash streamed daily into Bad-Adur. Poised at the western edge of the Great Salt Plain, this city was the receiving point for shipments from all points east. As fast as goods arrived, they were transported out again. The caravans were endless, as was the noise. Donkeys’ brays and the bellows of oxen, the neighs and whinnies of horses resounded over the rumble of wagon wheels grinding the already compacted road into dust. Drivers, perched atop freight wagons, masked against the dust clouds the wagons created, shouted and cracked their whips to keep the draft animals moving.

These days, in addition to exotic fabrics and oils or precious metals like gold and silver, not to mention the spices and foods that comprised traditional shipments, much-needed armor and weapons also filled the cargo wagons’ holds. In more peaceful times, each caravan was accompanied by a dozen or more armed guards to insure these commodities reached their intended destinations. Now, with war ravaging the land, entire platoons of soldiers rode beside them.

As Pandy and Peniff entered the port, they were struck by the level of activity. Pandy, who was unaccustomed to such crowds, stared at the lines of draft animals and curiously garbed people filling the roadways. Everywhere she looked, she saw men dressed in long flowing robes, men who wore turbans or oddly shaped head pieces adorned with such things as broaches or multi-colored feathers. Elaborate tattoos traced the faces and arms of many. On either side of the roads leading into and out of the port, vendors hawked food and liquid refreshment to the road-weary travellers and their cries added to the clamor. After spending some time studying this unusual parade, Pandy noticed a curious absence.

“Where are they?” she asked. “Have you noticed? All I see are men. Where are all the women? There aren’t any children either.”

Peniff looked around, then replied, “I’m sure some must live here. It would be an odd place, indeed, to be inhabited only by men.”

She shook her head in amazement and disbelief. As she watched the wagons, animals and men stream in from the Plain, then out to the world beyond, Pandy grew more concerned. She was certain they had come to the place the visions had indicated, yet along with the absence she had noted, she realized none of the soldiers she saw bore the blue, gold and crimson she had envisioned—colors Peniff had confirmed were indeed Obah Sitheh’s. That troubled her, since it was from among this throng that she was supposed to locate Lord Sitheh’s commander.

“Can you try to picture him again?” Peniff asked when she expressed her concern. “I’d like to see if I can identify him from your thoughts. I’ve been to barakMall,” he said, referring to Lord Sitheh’s fort, “so I’m hoping I can recognize him.”

“I will try. Sometimes I see him clearly. At other times, I cannot.”

Pandy was attempting to conjure his image when she became aware of the crowd of curious onlookers who had begun to surround them. At first, there had been just a few, but as the minutes went by, greater numbers began congregating and the sound of their conversations became so distracting she abandoned the task. She was wondering what had drawn their attention, when she realized the people were remarking about and pointing at the endaths. Eventually, some began reaching out to touch them, as if the sight of them was not sufficient proof they were real.

As the commotion increased, Tuweh became agitated, shifting from side to side, turning one way, then another, as hands reached up to feel his legs, touch his tail and pat his loins. All at once, he rose onto his haunches forcing Pandy to grab for the pommel.

“We need to get out of here,” Peniff called as Chossen began to panic as well.

By now the crowd had encircled them completely and Pandy could see no easy way out. As more hands extended toward them, the endaths grew increasingly frantic until, at one point, Chossen whirled in a circle, eyes wide and craning her neck as if looking for an avenue of escape.

“What do we do?” Pandy asked.

“I should have anticipated this,” said Peniff, gripping the pommel, looking past the crowd to the open space beyond.

With each passing second, the crowd was growing larger as more of the curious were drawn to these beasts. Tuweh released an uncharacteristic bellow and swung his tail. The act was not violent. In fact, it resembled more a push to clear space than it did a strike. Even so, the act hurled several men into the throng and the faces of the crowd began changing from smiles of delight into expressions of alarm and even anger.

As their cries began to grow hostile, Peniff said, “If we stay here much longer, someone is going to get hurt.”

All at once, Pandy envisioned their escape. Seeing what Tuweh was preparing to do, she cried, “Follow me,” as she readied herself.

Working her forearms under the restraining strap, she gripped the pommel and extended her stirruped feet as quickly as possible, bracing against what was to come.

Tuweh began easing forward, nudging the people with his forelegs and chest. Although the crowd had grown large, the gawkers were not packed to the point of immobility and the men began backing into whatever space was available. When Tuweh had cleared enough room, he gathered himself and sprang into the air.

Pandy watched as men crouched and covered their heads, marveling how such a huge beast could send itself soaring so high over such a great distance. Hugging the saddle with her body, hanging on with both hands, she braced for the landing and was equally surprised at how Tuweh cushioned the impact with his forelegs.

Her endath was still rising to stand when Pandy looked back and saw Chossen was now airborne, coming toward them with such speed the crowd was still turning as she landed beside Tuweh.

“Are you alright?” Pandy asked as Chossen settled.

Peniff gasped, then nodded.

“What happened?” she asked.

“Few people south of the Em have ever seen these creatures,” he explained. “Something else I should have considered before riding into town.”

The crowd, now recovering from their surprise, began shouting and pointing.

“I think we should get out of here,” Pandy said.

“Maybe we can find somewhere to keep them,” replied Peniff, glancing nervously at the growing agitation. “Maybe a stable.” Then, when he considered the endaths more closely, he added, “Then again, perhaps not. They are rather large.”

They were on a caravan route that ran past Bad-Adur proper. Looking south, they could see large buildings rising, and suspected that was where the actual citizenry lived. They continued to draw looks as they entered the place. Much to their relief, the people they encountered did not form a mob and the farther they went from the caravan routes, they began seeing women and children and the trading port began to resemble a more normal city.

They were turning from a side street onto an avenue lined with shops, when a column of uniformed soldiers marched by, compelling them to stop. The troops had nearly passed, when one of four mounted officers reined in his horse. He stared at the endaths, then rode toward them.

“Peniff?” the officer called.

Peniff, who still had his eyes on the parade, turned at the greeting and sat upright in the saddle. When his expression changed from puzzlement to recognition, he called back.

“General Barral?”

The officer broke into a smile. When he had ridden to within a few yards, Pandy exclaimed, “That’s him!”

Peniff shot her a glance, then regarded his old friend.

“That’s him,” Pandy repeated. “He’s the man in my visions. I’m sure he is.”

The small group of children running after the troops startled the general’s horse, causing it to rear onto its hind legs. Once the general regained control, he looked up at Peniff.

“What brings you to Bad-Adur?” he asked as he patted his mount.

Peniff turned to Pandy and said, “This is my friend, General Barral, of Obah Sitheh’s army.” Looking back at Barral, he said, “General, I would like to introduce my good friend, Pandy. She told me I would find you here.”

The general appeared disconcerted by the remark and gave Pandy a long, appraising look.

“How?… ” he began, then broke into a laugh. “Hah! Of course. I never got to see your humorous side before, but I have to admit, I’ve been needing a good laugh.”

After a moment, during which neither Peniff nor Pandy so much as smiled, when the only sounds remaining were the children’s fading laughter and his horse shifting stance, the general’s smile faded.

“You are joking,” he said, his words sounding more like a question than a statement of fact.

“You know who I am,” Peniff said pleasantly. “You know what I am,” he corrected.

The general nodded and regarded him thoughtfully.

“I will be plain,” said Peniff. “Pandy is a prescient. You may have heard people refer her kind as foretellers.” When the general’s brows went up, he added, “I’m not talking about charlatans who set up tents and pretend to tell your future. She is genuine and she intends to lend her services to Obah Sitheh. I had originally planned to escort her to him when she told me this duty should fall to you and that I would find you here.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” replied Barral, looking from Peniff to the girl. “BarakMall is no place for children and I have more important things to do.”

“She recently predicted the people of danTennet would assassinate Essem Cargath at about this point in time.”

The general fell silent and his face grew suspicious.

“If they have not done so already,” Peniff continued, “they soon will. When they do, that event will supply all the proof you need that I am not joking.”

Pandy raised a hand to halt the conversation, adding, “They hung him this morning from a tree in danTennet’s main square.”

In a voice barely audible above the sound of his horse’s hooves, the general asked, “How could you know that?” Then, in a louder voice, he said, “That’s impossible. I only learned about it within the last hour. A messenger… ”

“He died calling for Hath Kael,” she added, “asking why Kael had failed to honor his promise to protect him.”

The general stared.

“This is no ordinary girl,” Peniff assured. “I wouldn’t have wasted my time bringing her all the way from No’eth if she were.

“Do you remember how I turned the last battle in your lord’s favor by informing him Darva was safe?”

General Barral’s mouth tightened and he nodded in acknowledgement.

“This is no different.” Inclining his head toward Pandy, Peniff said, “I assure you this girl really can see the future. Even now, Kael is regrouping his forces for a second offensive. If he succeeds, both barakMall and barakMaroc will fall. When they do, Nagath-réal will be his. After that, how will your forces, or whatever is left of them, continue?”

Before the general could respond, Pandy said, “Instead of merely sending couriers to Pytheral, you should have sent Colonels Kanagh and Hol. They would have been more persuasive. They could have secured the support you will eventually need to guard barakMall against attacks from either the west or from Dethen.”

The general stared and his mouth fell open. He removed his helmet and wiped his forehead with his sleeve. The day was growing warm for that time of year and his forehead glistened.

“If it weren’t for your age,” he said, “and the utter impossibility of your knowledge, I would take you for a spy.”

He paused for a moment, deliberating, then asked, “How will I explain you?”

“I don’t understand,” Pandy replied.

“When I bring you to the fortress, what do I tell the men?”

“Does a general need to explain himself?” she asked.

“Some things require explanation.” Barral tucked his helmet under one arm and absently twirled one end of his moustache as he regarded her. “Taking a child to the site of an impending battle is one of them.”

“Not if you don’t offer one,” Pandy said, giving the general a penetrating look. “The only person you need to account to is Lord Sitheh and I’m sure he will understand.”

“How does a child know to whom I am accountable?”

She placed both hands on the pommel and leaned toward him.

“I would have expected this sort of evasion from boys my own age, but not from you.”

Indignant, Barral drew himself upright, but Pandy would have none of it. She could not explain why, but she was suddenly filled with a certainty she had not previously possessed. It was as if, contrary to all her experience, the future had suddenly decided to reveal itself in full and it all hinged on the decision Barral was about to make.

“Let me complete the picture,” she said. “Even as we speak, Hath Kael is organizing an army in Sandoval. Once he accomplishes that, and that will come soon, he intends to focus on Deth. Because Lord Cargath’s forces are now in a state of disarray, he is hoping to unite them under his own banner. That won’t be easy, however, because Cargath had instilled in them the notion of Deth’s eventual supremacy and independence.

“You can take advantage of the situation if you act quickly. If I were you, I would promote Kanagh and Hol to generals, then send them to Deth to take command of Cargath’s army. Once that is accomplished, I would send one of them to Pytheral, where the sentiment is already in Lord Sitheh’s favor. You would then have a barrier extending from west to east, thereby preventing Kael from conquering the southern lands.”