What Was Forgotten (24 page)

But that happy image always gave way to another, the Night of Fire as it was now being called. There was no safety. The feeling of fighting with the gods on their side and righteousness in their hearts was only a memory now, and even in his mind he found the soldiers of the Empire battering at its gates. The clan’s hunters always taught to take shelter when the weather turned. You cannot outrun the storm. And so it was at this realization he waited. He waited for the storm, a long afternoon, peaceful with his family; the last day he knew as being free in his own land.

It was an oddly restful night. Zayd and the other Tauthri, from what he could tell, slept undisturbed, as did their captors. The display they witnessed placated both groups in a way none of them had expected. Many of the Dramandi had yearned to return the horrors they experienced during the siege upon their tormentors, while the Tauthri, having stepped out from under one oppressor, were uncertain of the severity of their situation. The Dramandi were a defeated people. Nearly dead. Were they still to be feared or to be pitied? Now, though, the question had been answered and the Tauthri were certain they had only escaped one captor to be welcomed in by another.

They spent the daylight hours on the move, navigating the woods in utter silence. Two defeated peoples, their causes unaligned, marching against the same foe. Once the task had been accomplished or moved beyond their grasp, their temporary union would be ended. Not every path in the forest led somewhere. Zayd hoped he would recognize the point where they started down that path. If they had done so already, though, there was no point in obedience or delaying what was to come.

They ate only one meal that day. The Dramandi had killed two deer, though Zayd heard mutterings of a third they had missed. He smiled at this. His men would not have missed. It would have been three arrows for three animals. His right hand twitched at the thought. Before the wound he could have taken down three elk himself, and none of them would have had time to react before it was too late. But that was before.

Sera summoned him as the sun arced towards the horizon, sending their shadows sprawling even as they sat, making them tall as trees. She was sitting on the ground with her grinning right hand, Cohvass, sitting predictably beside her. The diminishing sunlight shone noticeably off of the grey streaks in her hair, and her posture was straight and stiff, as though she thought the wilderness itself was her throne. It was perhaps her only choice at one; there would soon be no settlement, village, or city that the Empire had not claimed. The survivors could make thrones of anything in their minds. A grin tugged at the corner of Zayd’s mouth at the thought, but he subdued it.

“Did you have enough to eat?” she asked. This was not a question he expected.

“It was more than I thought we would get.”
“I don’t want you starved. If you are to do what I am going to ask of you, it will be to both of our detriment if you don’t have the strength to do it.”

“Well then, you’ll have to tell me what it is we’re doing so that I know whether or not I’ve the strength for it. Though I think I already know what you will ask.”

She looked amused. “Is that so?”

“You want something from one of the carriages. Some artifact of yours. Something invaluable to you, though perhaps not to the Empire.”

She pursed her lips.

“It was obvious,” Zayd continued, “since your first attack against us was so desperate.”

“How was it desperate?” Cohvass interjected. The sinews of his neck tensed as he spoke, and his fists tightened. Did he ever relent? Zayd thought not. He was always looking for conflict, or finding it in everything regardless. This was a warrior destined to die in battle.

“You did not have the strength to defeat us outright. It was a feint. Bold.” Zayd stared at Cohvass as he spoke. “And foolish.”

Sera immediately put a hand on Cohvass’s shoulder. “Calm.” She turned to Zayd. “I find it intriguing you can judge one situation as foolish, and merely by doing so, you poke at the wild animal that you are chained to. Even after it has killed one of your sword-kin. Now… would you judge
that
to be foolish?” She clasped her hands gently together and did not wait for Zayd’s answer. “It is something taken from our sacred temple. The Raan Dura. The Eye of Aulvennic.”

“There was much taken from Yasri. How will I find it?”

“There is a chest made from iron and gold. The Raan Dura is inside.”

“I remember seeing it,” Zayd nodded. “Is it locked?”

Sera looked confused by the question. “You should not need to look upon it.”

“I won’t be able to carry the chest.”

Cohvass leaned forward again. “You will not profane it by holding it.”

Sera put her hand on him again, and with the subtlest of motions with her eyes made the brute stand and storm off. “We have suffered enough defeat. I don’t think he will allow himself to suffer any more.”

“My people used to have holy relics of our own,” Zayd said. “The Broken Bow from the King Hunter. He taught the first of us how to hunt, how to live in harmony. Tauth was a beautiful place. Our forests were immeasurable places. Not unlike this. Our trees, though, were wider. Not as tall as these ones.” Zayd looked up at the impossibly high canopy. “I know how important it is to you.”

“Maybe you have an idea… Zayd.” She nearly winced at saying his name. He was not sure if she had difficulty pronouncing it, or if she had that much bitterness towards him. “The Raan Dura was given to my people by the Guiding Star himself. A gift directly from our god… Yasri, our greatest city, was founded upon its discovery. Aulvennic willed that his people would live in this land for all of time. Now my people have lost Yasri, and we have even lost our holy birthright to this land. Without it, there is nothing. We have nothing. Tell me, what happened to your Broken Bow?”

“You know what happened to it,” Zayd said. “They took it.”

“Your people decided to serve. My people will not serve. If we do not have this, then…” Sera was weighing what she was about to say. “There will be nothing left for us to live for.” The admission pained her to utter it.

“And you think of asking your enemy to help you survive?”

Sera flashed a bitter smile. “I am not a fool. We’ll never have this land back. We’ll never again call it our own. Just as you won’t yours. But I will not, after everything, live out my last days without hope. There could be no punishment worse than witnessing my people die slowly, not like some tree hacked down by axes, but like one that watches itself dying of thirst. I know… I know I could not have asked this of a Ryferian.”

“I am Ryferian.”

“You know what I mean. A
nasci
. A Trueborn. You have more in common with me than you do with them.”

“Is that so?”

Sera nodded. “We will be done with each other soon enough, though. With them, you will always be a slave.”

“My service is nearly done,” Zayd said. “If I live long enough.”

“How could I expect your aid in this if there was nothing for you in return but death? Retrieve the Raan Dura, and I will set you free. You and your sword-kin.”

Zayd did not trust her at all, but had no choice. She may keep her word. She may not. He did believe, though, that if he did not play the part she asked, he and his men would die.

“How many of my men will accompany me?” Zayd asked.

“Should any? One of you is hard to detect. More of you… not as hard.”

“Still hard,” Zayd said, knowing she would remember the nights in Yasri where the Tauthri would burst out of the calm. “Easier to fail with only one set of eyes. Even eyes that see in the darkness.”

Sera nodded. “Some gifts cannot be taken away.” She tapped her fingers as she thought. “One other. You may have one other. And Cohvass, too.”

“What? Why?”

“How else can I trust that you will do as you must?”

“They’ll see us or hear us. They’ll hear
him
. We can do this, but he cannot. What do you think they will do if they discover us sneaking about? Do you think we will have another chance? That you can just try again and their guard will not be raised?”

Sera looked at him evenly as he spoke, allowed him to finish, and said only, “Cohvass, too.”

“This is unwise…. As long as he obeys orders.”

“He’ll obey mine.”

“Will you not sway on this? I do not wish to fail, but I fear that we will if he is with us.”

“There is no compromise between enemies. Only victory and defeat.”

Zayd knew he would remember this when the time came.

“He can carry the iron chest easily,” Sera added. “And if you need to fight your way out, you’ll be glad to have him with you.”

Approaching the Ryferian camp in the dark reminded Zayd of home, only the foreign trees and unknown setting made him feel like he was in a dream that warped and twisted his surroundings. One knee on the ground, he steadied himself against a large tree trunk with both hands. Tascell was to his left, doing the same. Cohvass was behind him like some hulking shadow.

That there were no Tauthri sentries around the camp scratched at and uncovered another long-buried memory and the feeling of longing that went with it. No Tauthri sentries and no giant meant there were only Trueborn. Powerless to spy what lurked in the dark. That was where Zayd would be. Perhaps it would be easier than he thought – one bright spot of luck to stand out among the misfortune that had been plaguing them.

They heard faint voices, but most of the soldiers seemed to be asleep. Or passed out drunk, Zayd thought. He expected Praene and the Knights of the Ninth to be the ones awake as they had been, before he and Barrett had been discovered. He wondered what happened to the soldiers of the Eighth Regiment. He could not guess based on the number of tents, but he remembered the noise that was at his back when they fled. He guessed the Eighth had been all but slaughtered. By Xidius’ grace, he hoped their deaths were cleaner than Turald’s.

He nodded to Tascell and they began to advance, knees bent and silent. He would have liked for at least one of them to have a bow. Not that he would have used it. Only if it kept him from being discovered. He would have liked for Daruthin to be with him. Smaller and quieter than Tascell, Zayd also trusted him more. But that was apparent to Sera when he intervened to save Daruthin’s life. Keeping him captive with the others was just more assurance that Zayd would not try to sabotage the task. He wouldn’t, whether Daruthin was with him or not. He wasn’t stealing from the Empire. He was stealing from thieves.

The light of their fires cast long shadows as soldiers walked past, signalling a careless mind of a careless sentry. It would be a wonder if they made it to their destination, wherever that was, with such a lack of discipline.

The encampment was on high ground – that much they at least got right – and the approach to it was steep on all sides. They stepped cautiously, sure to avoid any misstep. The ground was firm but there were branches, stones, and bushes that were in their way, ready to tell the Ryferian sentries that they were not alone – if they were listening.

As they got closer, they saw the sharp silhouettes of palisades. Hastily constructed, Zayd could tell, but a troublesome obstacle nonetheless. They shifted their approach to the right towards the rear of the camp. The drifting voices became more distant. Zayd stopped, and Tascell and Cohvass stopped too. Would Praene keep his precious charge at the opposite end of the camp? It was greed that caused him to defect, and it would be greed that would make him keep the fortune close to him.

“Where are we going?” Cohvass asked. “Make your mind up.”

“I think they’ll be keeping the loot closer to the front. Praene would want to keep it within sight,” Zayd said.

“The Raan Dura isn’t
loot
,” Cohvass murmured.

“What is he saying?” Tascell asked.

“I’m sure you can guess.” Zayd said.

“Where will we make our approach?” he asked.

“I think the carriages will be at the fore.”

“There will be sentries there, no doubt.”

“There will be sentries at every end of the camp. They may not have a shred of honour, but we can trust they still have a shred of foresight. We should enter by the palisades. They assume that spot to be protected. No need to keep watch over it.” Zayd explained the same to Cohvass and they began moving again.

The sharpened sticks jutted out over the spot where the flat ground began to decline into the slope. The three of them were on all fours. Zayd looked through the spears and, when he was sure it was safe, took hold of the one on the right end, wrestled it until it was loose and then pulled it free. Without a word, Cohvass took it from him and drove the sharp end into the ground at Zayd’s foot, keeping the spear from rolling down the hill and announcing their arrival. It also gave Zayd a step to use to get up to level ground more easily. Tascell followed second, and Cohvass last.

Praene, or whoever was actually in command, had not ensured that there was open ground between the defensive line and the rows of tents. There was next to no open ground for Zayd to cross, hardly any opportunity for someone to catch the intruders while exposed. They were among the rows in a few strides. Another boon for him, Zayd thought. Had he more time to reflect, perhaps he would have wondered if Xidius was offering him some invisible guiding hand, or skewing things in his favour.