Son of Corse (The Raven Chronicles Book 2) (5 page)

BOOK: Son of Corse (The Raven Chronicles Book 2)
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Chapter Five

 

M
emories of the night before replayed in Arwenna’s mind as soon as she awoke.  Rubbing her eyes, she cleared away the last bits of sleep from her vision.  The bleached canvas of the tent roof provided an excellent backdrop for the visions in her mind.

              She remembered breaking down after Tiren spoke through Y’Dürkie.  Joss and the rest had come running over.  Between sobs, she told Joss what she’d learned while Barek and Hugh hurriedly erected the tents and set up a more permanent camp for the night.  She fell asleep in Joss’ embrace, exhausted and blinded by fear.

              Tiren’s words rang through Arwenna’s head. Bohrs still wanted her above all else.  She
shuddered at the thought of the man.  At the same time, her mind began to see how she could work that to her advantage over letting it cripple her.  She swung her legs over the edge of the cot, searching for her shoes while the idea took hold.  A sense of control washed over her as she quickly put them on.

              The tent flap moved as she stood up.  Joss looked at her as he entered, confusion on his face.

              “I think I know how we can beat him this time, Joss” she whispered as she embraced him.  His arms encircled her tightly.

              “Gods I hope we can, Shayn.  We can’t live our lives afraid of a single man.”  A gentle kiss on her head warmed her soul. 

              She looked up into his brown eyes.  “I need to stop reacting to him and start doing things my way, not his.”  Arwenna bit her lip, hoping he would understand what she was trying to say.

              “I think I understand what you mean.  It’s not that we aren’t going after Sera, but we do it on our terms instead of Bohrs’.”  He nodded his head slowly.  “Y’Dürkie might be ok with it, but Barek’ll fight you on it.  Are you ready for that?”

              A small chuckle escaped Arwenna.  “You let me deal with him.  I’ll send him home if he can’t behave himself.  I’m not the one who needs protecting right now. Y’Dürkie’s in far more danger than I am.  That gem in her sword is rather dangerous.  I don’t think any of them – Corse, Senyan, or Bohrs – know how to deal with it.”  She rummaged through a pack, pulling out a clean dress.  “Let’s face it, Joss.  Bohrs wants me to come to him.  Protecting me isn’t going to matter.  Taking Sera guaranteed that I’d follow.  I’ll get through.  He’ll make sure of that.  The rest of you, however, need to watch your backs.”  Shaking the wrinkles out of the dress, she began to change.  “I’ve got some information about Lake Brahl and the area around it that might be useful for everyone to know before we arrive. If we’re really lucky, the monastery for Silas will still be there and the corrupted will have left.  I don’t want to rush the trip.  If anything, taking it slow will infuriate Bohrs.  He’s going to expect me to travel fast just to get to Sera back.”
 
She took a deep breath.  “I’ve got a good idea where he will be with her.  It’s one of two places, both of which Senyan would know well.  Purposefully going to the monastery and giving the illusion of uncertainty is going to make them think I’m still following blindly.”

              Looking up from buttoning her dress, Arwenna saw the doubt on Joss’ face.  She smiled and leaned in to his welcoming embrace.  “I know it’s going to be hard to do, Joss.  We both want her back.”

              Joss’ arms tightened around her.  The tender kiss on the top of her head made her close her eyes.  “I think you’re right, Arwenna.  I don’t like it much.  I’m going to be very scared for you during this whole thing, but I’d rather be scared now than later.”  She felt his arms shift and looked up at him.  “Please promise me, though, that you’re not going to do anything really foolish out of spite.  No purposefully putting yourself in danger to prove your theory that you’re not the target, ok?”  His voice was stern.

              She smiled at him.  “I promise.  Though I want the same promise from you not to get between me and those three.  I’m going to do whatever I feel I must to get our daughter back safely.  And I don’t want to have to argue with you about it when the time comes.”

              “I can’t speak for the others
,
but I won’t fight you.  Barek will object enough for everyone.” 

              Sighing heavily, Arwenna replied “True enough.  Perhaps I’ll put a silence spell on his armor and wait until I need him quiet before I trigger it.”  Joss’ face broke into a huge grin at her suggestion.  Laughing, they left the tent.

              The bright morning light reflected off the sparse grassland surrounding them.  A quick glance let Arwenna know everyone else was long since awake.  Mialee kept herself separate from the others, her hair hiding her face as she packed up her tent.  Even after talking about what had happened to her, Arwenna could tell her friend wasn’t as ready to forgive herself as they were.

              Barek and Hugh were loading down the pack mules.  Y’Dürkie poured water over the fire, dousing the flames.  The steam rose from the hissing coals, obscuring her for a moment.  Arwenna’s eyes caught the faintest green outline to Y’Dürkie’s form.  The idea that Hauk and Tiren were somehow connected dwelled for a moment on her mind before she shook the thought out of her head.  Trying to figure out just how they were all chosen for the things they had done tended to make her head spin. 

              Arwenna snatched the end of a loaf of bread out of the pack as Joss secured it to one of the pack animals. It didn’t take long before they were all back on their horses and riding towards the line of peaks to the North.

Chapter Six

T
wo weeks later, the dark shadows of the mountains kept the warmth of the sun at bay.  They’d reached the foothills at last.  A small but expensive inn sat nestled at the start of the caravan route.  The attached corral and stables were full of horses.  Voices could be heard coming from the common room.  Crowded or not, Arwenna was going in there.  It wasn’t necessarily rooms they would be looking for.  Depending on which way the caravan was heading, however, might give them the chance at some useful information.

              A massive fireplace dominated one wall of the inn.  Arwenna and the rest jostled their way through the crowded room to a table on the far side.  It was a small, well used wooden table that barely sat the six of them.  Mialee smiled, her green eyes full of curiosity.  “I’ll be back in a bit” she whispered to Arwenna before melting away into the mass of people in the room. 

              Y’Dürkie watched Mialee leave with a raised eyebrow.  “She’s gathering information. We’ve been traveling too long not to let her listen into conversations.” Arwenna muttered under her breath. 

              A surly and bored looking woman walked up to their table.  “We ain’t got no rooms if that’s what you’re after.  But we can feed you if you got the coin for it.”  She looked at Barek expectantly.

              Arwenna spoke up before Barek could.  “We have the coin, miss.  A few hours near your fire and some food and drink are all we require.”  As the woman left, Arwenna removed her heavy wool cloak. She handed it over to Joss gratefully.  Her long black braid swung gracefully as she sat at the bench. 

              “What are you doing, Arwenna?” Barek muttered at her through clenched teeth.  “Put your cloak back on before you’re recognized!”

              “Barek, he knows I’m coming.  And that I’m not alone.  There’s no sense in hiding.  He
wants
me to come to him.”  Arwenna kept her voice low, watching Barek’s face closely.  If she knew him as well as she thought she did, he’d voice
some objection.

              The objection was silenced as a stranger approached them.  He moved with grace despite leaning heavily on a dark wooden cane.  His light blonde hair marked him as a Wood Elf.  It was his eyes that made Arwenna breathe in sharply, however.  They were the same ice blue of Senyan’s.

              “I hope I am not interrupting, Daughter.  But I owe you an apology.”  The elf’s voice trembled slightly.

              Arwenna blinked, taken aback by the words.  “Please, sit with us.  I am not certain I know you, let alone why you feel the need to apologize to me.”

              With a sigh, the stranger settled into a spot on the bench across from her.  “My name is Lu’Zaire Mandurin.  I was among those who fought at what is now known as the Vale of Sorrows
.” 
He paused, taking a drink from the tankard in his hand. 

              Arwenna grew quiet as their drinks and food arrived. When the server was gone, she spoke, “Then I owe you my gratitude, Master Mandurin.  You were among many who were of great importance to me.  I still mourn those who perished on that field.” 

              Lu’Zaire shook his head.  “I was not one who showed great valor in battle, Daughter.  Even though it was mine for the taking.  I had the man you know as Senyan within striking distance of my bow, yet I hesitated.  If I had possessed the courage to let my arrow fly, many who perished would still be with us.”

              Arwenna stared at the elf, unsure of what to say next.  “I…I don’t understand Master Mandurin.  While I do not hold you accountable for the lives Senyan took, I am curious as to what stayed your hand in battle.”

              Raising his head to look directly at her, Lu’Zaire all but whispered, “I couldn’t shoot him, Daughter, because he is my kinsman.  He is, or was, my nephew.”

              Arwenna barely heard Y’Dürkie order another round of drinks.  Sitting across from her was someone who, very possibly, could give her information on Senyan that even Senyan himself didn’t know.  She took a deep breath, choosing her words carefully.

              “Master Mandurin, please do not blame yourself.  It is most likely your arrow wouldn’t have truly killed Senyan.  And I have spent a number of years with my own kin lost to me.  I can understand the hesitation, as I would’ve done the same.”  She watched as Lu’Zaire visibly relaxed, the guilt falling off his shoulders.  “If it is not too much to ask, however, I would know as much as you can tell us about Senyan’s life before he was lost to you.  I fear our battles are not over yet.  Any information we can gather will help us.”

              “For starters, his name is Lu’Thare Mandurin.  His father, Lu’Daw, was my brother.  Lu’Daw was forced into marriage by our parents.  Laret was the daughter of a village elder, guaranteeing Lu’Daw the chance to rise above our position.  He did what his duty dictated; though he made it known he wasn’t happy about it.  They grew to love each other, however.  Even after her father died and Lu’Daw had secured his own position among the community, he did not put her aside.  For years, they struggled to have a child.  Many thought Laret was barren.  And Lu’Daw had no end of offers from other women in the village who promised him the son Laret couldn’t give him.”

              He paused, taking a sip from his tankard.  “There was one woman in particular that Lu’Daw mentioned to me in a letter.  Corrise, I think her name was.  This one pursued him like mad.  There were rumors at the time of a shadowy male figure seen trailing after Laret, though no one was ever to give a decent description of him or to find him and question his motives. About this time, Laret announced she was with child at last.  Lu’Daw remarked in a letter to me that the more vicious women of the village inferred the shadowy figure was the father, not Lu’Daw.  He quickly did what he could to squash the rumors.  For the most part, it worked and the vipers stopped hounding him to put Laret aside.  All, that is, except Corrise.”

              “Shortly after Lu’Thare was born, Laret fell gravely ill.  Priests of Hauk were called, but many refused to come and treat her.  They claimed an evil had taken her, and that she had turned her back on Hauk.  My wife and I had come, to help with the baby, and stayed for a time.  There was something strange about Laret, to be certain.  The prayers being said seemed to harm her over heal her.”

              “I woke up late one night to the sounds of hushed voices in the living room.  Lu’Daw was in there, with Corrise.  I couldn’t hear everything, but she insisted she knew someone who could help Laret live.  The voices dropped too low for me to hear, and I went back to bed.  The next morning, Laret was vastly improved. And Corrise was nowhere to be found.”

              “It was almost nine years before I had any more news from them. The news wasn’t good.  Lu’Daw and Laret had perished in a fire.  Lu’Thare had been found sitting on the ground a few yards away, staring at the fire with a smile on his face.  The priests of Hauk took him in, expecting to hold him until I could come get him.  The whispers in the village said he was responsible, that he was a creature of evil.  The child left on his own one night.”

              “I did hear at one time of an orphaned elf being taken in by Baron Keriat, who resided a few days from Serenity. By the time I was able to confirm the rumors, however, years had passed and he was no longer there.  Killed during an excursion to eradicate a great evil, I was told.”  He stopped, wearily rubbing at his eyes.

              Arwenna tried to keep her voice steadier than her hands.  She knew there was a chance for her to fill in some of the gaps of Senyan’s life for his uncle, much as he had just done for her.  Some things, though, must not be spoken of.  “He didn’t die there, Master Mandurin.  He lived, for the most part.  He was brought to the monastery where I resided in Serenity.  One dedicated to Silas.  I tended to him the best I could.” She took a shuddering breath before continuing.  “There were others there, however.  Those who pretended to follow Silas’ teachings but were instead part of the Corrupted of Corse.  They took advantage of your nephew’s state, and my innocence.”

              Lu’Zaire nodded slowly.  “Aye, it does not surprise me. I do not wish to live my life by wondering what could have been, but could not pass up the opportunity to speak with you when I saw you.  Perhaps, one day, Lu’Thare will be found again and Senyan will be no more.  To me, they are not the same person.”  With that, he rose and gave Arwenna a nod of farewell before fading back into the crowd.

BOOK: Son of Corse (The Raven Chronicles Book 2)
2.85Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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