Rise of the Valiant (22 page)

Duncan looked at
his own sons with shame. They had everything, and yet they would deny these
poor boys their livelihood.

Duncan stepped
forward and pushed back his two sons, then looked at the boys and nodded back
soundly.

“You shall have
two sacks of gold,” Duncan said.

The boys gasped
in delight, wide-eyed, and Duncan then turned to his sons:

“And the money
shall come from your personal coffers,” he said sternly. “You can each hand me
one sack. Now.”

It was not a
question but a command, and Brandon and Braxton looked crestfallen. They must
have seen the determined look in their father’s eyes, though, since they
reluctantly reached into their waists and each pulled out a sack.

“That is all my
gold, Father!” Brandon called out.

Duncan nodded,
uncaring.

“Good,” he
replied. “Now hand it to the boys.”

Brandon and
Braxton grudgingly stepped forward and hand the sacks to the boys. The boys,
delighted, rushed forward and handed Duncan and his men the shoes and ropes.

“Take the
eastern face,” one of the boys advised Duncan. “There is less melting. The
north seems easier, but it narrows—you’ll get stuck. Remember—don’t remove the
spikes. You will have more than one cause for them.”

With that the
boys turned and scurried back into the woods, as Duncan was left to wonder at
their words.

He and his men
put on the shoes and secured the climbing ropes over their shoulders, and as
Duncan put them on, he realized how much he would need them.

They all turned
to ascend the mountain when suddenly another man rushed forward from the woods,
dressed in rags, perhaps in his thirties, with long greasy hair and yellow
teeth. He stopped before them and looked nervously from man to man before he
addressed Duncan.

“I’m a tracker,”
he said. “I know the best routes to Kos. All who ascend trust me. Hike without
me, and you hike at your own peril.”

Duncan exchanged
a look with Seavig.

Seavig stepped
forward casually and laid a hand on the man’s shoulder.

“I thank you for
your offer,” he said.

The man smiled
back nervously, and Seavig, to Duncan’s shock, suddenly pulled a dagger from
his waist and stabbed the man in the gut.

The man groaned
and keeled over, slumping to his feet, dead.

Duncan stared
down at the body, stunned.

“Why did you do
that?” he asked.

Seavig raised
his boot and pushed over the man’s body until he was lying on his back. He then
kicked the man’s shirt, and out clinked several gold coins. Seavig reached down
and held one up—and Duncan was shocked to see the insignia of the Pandesian
Emperor.

“A man of
Escalon once, perhaps,” Seavig said. “But no longer. The Pandesians paid him
well. If we had followed him, we would all be dead right now.”

Duncan was
amazed, never expecting such treachery here.

Seavig threw the
Pandesian gold back down to the ground.

“These
mountains,” Seavig said, “hold more danger than one.”

Kyra plummeted
through the air so fast she could barely catch her breath, the icy mist of the
waterfall engulfing her as she tumbled end over end, her screams drowned out by
the roaring waters. Down below she could faintly make out Leo and Dierdre,
landing somewhere in the huge clouds of white foam, could see their bodies
tumbling as they went gushing down the rapids of the River Tanis. She had no
idea if they had survived the fall—but it did not look good.

Kyra saw her
life flashing before her eyes. Of all the ways she might die, she had never
expected to die like this. She looked down and saw a group of boulders at the
base into which the water landed, sending up waves of foam. She also dimly saw
a narrow opening between the rocks; if she could land there, then maybe, just
maybe, she would not break her neck when she landed, and have a remote chance
to survive this.

She flailed and
twisted, contorting her body as best she could, doing whatever possible to aim
for the crevice.

And then it
happened. Kyra felt herself submerged as she hit the water so hard, winded, she
was unsure if she hit water or rock.

She kept
sinking, deeper and deeper, falling like a stone even beneath the surface of
the river; she did not think it would ever end. The currents were also pushing
her sideways from the tremendous energy of the falls, and as she sank, she
knew, at last, that she had not landed on rock. She had made the crevice; she
knew she should be grateful for that.

Yet she was
still sinking, tumbling underwater, the air pressure killing her ears, as she
tried to gain control, to swim. It took her a good thirty seconds until she
finally felt her feet hit the bottom of the river, bouncing off the sandy bed.

Kyra reflexively
kicked off it, using her momentum to launch her back up for the surface. She
got caught in the current, and after swimming with all her might, was finally
able to gain control. She kicked and kicked, feeling her lungs would burst from
the effort. But there was no choice. To give up meant death. And she was not
ready to die.

Just as she felt
she could go no further, Kyra gave one final kick and finally exploded onto the
surface. She heaved, immediately pushed back under by the currents, then
surfaced again, gulping another breath of air before being pushed back down.

Finally, after
drifting a good thirty feet more downriver, the tides slowed enough for Kyra to
stay above the surface. As she tread water she saw something rush by her and
realized it was a log. She swam for it, reaching and missing several times,
until finally she grabbed hold of it and managed, slipping, to pull herself up.

Kyra gasped for
air as she lay across it, trying to collect herself while the river pulled her
downriver, holding on as she bumped off rocks. She wiped water from her eyes
and spotted in the distance what appeared to be Dierdre and Leo, floating and
flailing in the currents. She kicked, heading toward them, trying her best to
direct herself in the rapids.

As she neared
she saw it was indeed Leo, alive, she was relieved to see; he was kicking his
legs, keeping his head above water, and she was amazed to see he had survived.
But her joy was tempered by the sight of Dierdre, lying on her stomach, face in
the water, motionless. Her heart dropped as she suspected the worst.

“DIERDRE!” she
shrieked.

Kyra yanked Leo
up onto the wide, flat log, his paws draped across it, whining, and then she
immediately kicked over to Dierdre and yanked her up, too. She turned her over
and was horrified to see her friend’s face was turning blue.

“Dierdre!” Kyra
cried, shaking her.

Kyra thought
quickly. She turned her over the log and slapped her back several times, trying
to revive her.

“You can’t die
now!” she cried.

She felt a
sudden panic at the idea of losing her new friend, and she slapped her back
again and again—and suddenly, Dierdre began to throw up water. To Kyra’s great
relief, Dierdre grabbed hold of the log, balancing herself as she gagged.

Kyra beamed as
her friend slowly came back to life. Dierdre, spent, turned and looked at her,
arms trembling, and while no words came out, she could see the gratitude in her
friend’s eyes.

Kyra noticed
something rush by in the rapids, and she turned and saw it was a piece of their
shattered raft. More pieces floated by, the raft now useless, and Kyra realized
that this log in the river was all they had.

As their log
cruised downriver, Kyra, Dierdre, and Leo instinctively climbed up onto it,
sitting on the broad, flat surface, just wide enough for them all to fit. Leo
lay down on his stomach, whining, clearly suspicious of the log—luckily it was
too heavy and wide to spin. It straightened out and cruised like a spear down
the rapids, and the current, fortunately, slowed enough to make it manageable
as a vessel.

“It’s not
roomy,” Kyra smiled to Dierdre, “but I suppose it will do.”

Dierdre smiled
back, looking exhausted but alive.

“We haven’t much
farther,” she replied, studying the horizon ahead. “See that fork?” she asked,
pointing. “Where the river splits, that’s where we get off. From there on, we
are back on land, on foot.”

Kyra saw the
fork in the distance and was relieved there was an end in sight; she’d had more
than enough of this river, and was eager to get back onto dry land.

She took a deep
breath for the first time. She glanced back over her shoulder and saw the waterfalls,
now far behind, and she could hardly believe they had all survived. She
realized how lucky they were to be alive, and in one piece. She looked back
ahead and wondered what other perils lay in store for them.

They continued
downriver as hours passed, Kyra watching the changing landscape with awe. The
trees shimmered, all shades of white, as they crossed through the Whitewood,
white leaves falling everywhere, lending the place a magical feel. Kyra watched
it all, shivering, her clothes wet from the spray, and Dierdre finally reached
out and pointed.

“There,” she
said. “See those two boulders? They mark the road to Ur. We must get out here.”

Kyra and Dierdre
did their best to direct the log for shore, reaching over and stroking and
kicking the water. But despite their efforts, nothing worked. This big stubborn
log refused to be directed.

“We’ll have to
jump!” Kyra said, realizing they were about to fork the wrong way downriver.

They stood and
as they did, Leo barked at the water, clearly reluctant.

“It’s okay,
Leo,” Kyra reassured him. “Stay by my side and we’ll swim to shore together.”

Kyra looked up
ahead and saw the rapids forking, gaining speed, and as reluctant as she was to
jump back in, she knew it was now or never. She and Dierdre exchanged a look
and at the same time they both jumped into the roaring river, Kyra grabbing Leo
as she did.

Kyra found
herself submerged, frozen again, her skin pierced by a thousand small needles
as she swam for shore. While the currents carried them downriver, they swam
sideways, fighting their way toward the river bank. The water slowed and became
more shallow, and finally, Kyra was amazed to find herself standing on the
river bed, then crawling on her hands and knees as she emerged from the waters
and onto the sand.

Kyra collapsed
on the sand, Dierdre and Leo beside her, dripping wet, exhausted, sand in her
face and hair—and no longer caring. She breathed hard, spitting up water. She
lay there, unmoving for several minutes, her arms shaking from the exertion.
She wanted to sleep for a million years. Would this quest ever end? she
wondered.

Kyra did not
know how much time had passed when she felt a hand beneath her arm, helping her
up. She looked up to see Dierdre standing over her, smiling down.

“You saved my
life—again,” Dierdre said.

Kyra stood and
smiled back, brushing off sand and feeling the weariness in her bones.

“Well, I guess
if a waterfall can’t kill us, nothing can,” she replied.

Kyra brushed the
mud and sand off her body and off Leo, too, as he came close and licked her
palm. The three of them turned and faced the white wood before them, an endless
stretch of ancient white trees shimmering in the late afternoon sun.

“Through these
trees leads the road to Ur,” Dierdre remarked.

“How far do you
suppose it is on foot?” Kyra asked.

Dierdre
shrugged.

“A few days
more.”

Kyra studied the
darkening woods, devoid of shelter, heard the strange animal noises calling out
beyond, and she searched everywhere, filled with sadness, for Andor, hoping
beyond hope that he had somehow made it.

But he was
nowhere to be found, of course. They were alone, utterly alone, the three of
them, without provisions, without a horse, with nothing but the weapons still
strapped to Kyra’s back.

Kyra knew there
was no time to waste. She took the first step into the wood, joined by her
friends, back onto the long and lonely trek to the Tower of Ur.

*

Kyra, Dierdre,
and Leo hiked through Whitewood, leaves crunching beneath their feet as the
white trees swayed all about them, walking quietly for hours as they headed
west, into the setting sun. Kyra wondered if they would ever reach Ur. She was
relieved, at least, to be on this side of the River Tanis, and she was
beginning to allow herself a sense of optimism. She felt her heart beat faster
as she realized that Ur was not that far away now. With no more unexpected
encounters, she could reach it in a few days’ time. They even had food now,
thanks to Leo, who bounded behind them happily, holding three dead rabbits in
his mouth that he had killed along the way. Selfless, he did not eat them,
waiting for all of them to share them together.

Kyra thought of
her father as they went, wondered where he was now, if he was winning his
battles—or, she dared not imagine, if he were already dead. She thought of Aidan,
even of her reckless brothers who annoyed her. She wondered if she would even
have a Volis left to return to, or if the Pandesians had laid it to waste. She
knew it was only a matter of time until the great armies of Pandesia heard what
they did, until they all came searching for her. She knew it was a race against
time until she reached the safety of Ur.

Why? she
wondered. Why was she needed in Ur? Who was her uncle? Who was her mother? What
powers did she have that could help her father? And why had it all been kept
secret from her? Were the prophecies true? Would she truly become a powerful
warrior like her father?

There came a
rustling of branches, snapping her from her reverie, and Kyra suddenly felt Dierdre’s
arm against her chest, stopping her. The three of them stood at the edge of the
wood line, and Kyra looked out and was surprised to see a road before them,
winding through the forest. She was even more surprised, as she studied the
wide, well-traveled forest road, to hear someone coming on it. There was a
great rustling followed by the creaking of wooden wheels. It was, she realized,
a carriage.

Kyra’s heart
pounded as she saw, rounding the bend and coming toward them, a large carriage
with the blue and yellow of Pandesia emblazoned on its side. The carriage
neared, the horses trotting by, and as it passed them, Kyra looked up into the
carriage and saw, behind bars, the faces of several girls, terror in their
eyes. They looked to be about her age.

Kyra felt a rush
of indignation.

“They’re taking
them,” she remarked. “They’re taking them to their Lord Governors.”

Kyra watched it
race by, and it was quickly followed by another carriage, filled with armed
Pandesian soldiers on the lookout. The horses moved by at a quick trot, leaving
a cloud of dust as they turned a bend and disappeared as quickly as they had
come.

Kyra and Dierdre
exchanged a look, and Kyra could see the shared indignation in her friend’s
eyes.

“I know what
you’re thinking,” Dierdre said. “But if we go after them, we will never make
it. You realize how badly outmanned we are, don’t you?”

Beside them, Leo
snarled.

Kyra did know;
she also knew in her heart that, whatever the odds, whatever the risk, there
was no way she could let that carriage go. It would haunt her for the rest of her
life. Injustice had crossed her path, and she could not choose to let it go.

“Who would I
be,” Kyra asked, “if I turned an eye away?”

Kyra looked at
her friend and she could see the fear in her eyes, but also the inspiration—and
finally, the shared resolve. She nodded, and she knew her friend was with her.

Kyra reached
back, tightened her grip on her staff, and before she knew it, before she even
thought it through, she was running, bursting out of the tree line, joined by
Dierdre and Leo, the three of them sprinting, away from Ur, away from their
quest—and toward justice.