Chapter 27|Direction
“You cannot abandon the quest.” Allyn sat cross-legged in front of the fire they had rekindled. He and Shanis had waited until they were certain that the mercenaries were gone before reporting back to the others. “It is too important, and you’ve put too much of yourself into it to just pack up and go home.”
“I have just learned that the lands of the east are imperiled by an army of unknown origin. I have a duty to my father and to my country to warn them of this danger. How can I ignore that? We must go back.” Larris paced to and fro across the mouth of the sheltered overhang in which they were encamped.
Oskar lay on his side, propped up on an elbow, half-listening to the argument. In his mind, he replayed what Allyn and Shanis had told them, turning the information over, trying to make sense of it. The apparent leader, the one Shanis had said gave her the chills, had called the others “men without a country.” The nations of the east had long held to a practice of banishing their most hardened criminals to the mountains to fend for themselves against the wild animals, the bitter winters, and the other perils that some said existed only in grandmother’s tales. It sounded to him as though someone had organized the survivors into some sort of raiding party. It wouldn’t have been a difficult sell to convince such hard cases as these to plunder the very countries that had left them to die in the first place.
“What would you tell them?” Allyn’s voice had lost some of its usual serenity. “That a hundred or so poorly-armed mercenaries, operating from an unknown location in the mountains are going to raid some town somewhere in the east? How does that information do anyone any good?”
“I believe you underestimate the threat, my friend. They were on their way to meet up with someone else. Obviously the group you saw was not their entire force.” Larris held up his hand as Allyn opened his mouth to interrupt. “And the leader spoke of ‘the lands of the east’. That sounds to me like a more grandiose plan than merely raiding a few villages.”
“Let us say, for argument’s sake, that you are correct,” Allyn said. “The fact remains that we have nothing to tell, save a vague threat from a force of unknown size. Your father could not act upon what information we have, except to put his commanders on alert, which he has already done thanks to Kyrin.” He stopped speaking, his eyes darting to Oskar, then back to Larris, who waved the comment away.
“It’s all right,” Larris said. “We haven’t any secrets from them anymore.”
Oskar doubted that, but it still felt good to hear. He cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention to himself.
“It seems to me that, even if we did have information that was of some value, we would have a hard time getting back to Galdora at all, much less in time to tell anyone of the threat. Your brother is somewhere behind us. And don’t forget that we’re supposed to be in the dungeon in Karkwall right now. Martrin and Horgris only helped us because we were looking for the Silver Serpent. What will we say to Horgris when we come riding back into his camp after being gone only a few days? Sorry, we couldn’t find it. Pass the ale.?”
Shanis chuckled and elbowed Hierm in the ribs. “I’ll just bet you’d like to go back to Horgris’ camp, wouldn’t you?”
Hierm tensed for a moment. Then, seeing her smile, he relaxed. “Don’t remind me,” he said, an embarrassed grin on his face. “I never drank that much before and I don’t intend to again.”
“Don’t be like that, friend Hierm,” Allyn said. “Once Larris sees reason and we get back on our quest, I am sure we will find time to build up your tolerance of strong drink. Oh, don’t look at me like that Larris,” he said, staring up at the annoyed-looking young man. “You know that wherever you lead, I follow, but I believe Oskar is correct. Going back is not an option.”
Larris sat down next to Shanis, on the side opposite Hierm. He laced his fingers together and hooked his hands behind his neck. He sat that way, staring at the fire.
“Truth be told, I am almost convinced that we should continue on our quest, but I don’t feel right about it.”
“I have a thought, if I may,” Khalyndryn said in a soft, hesitating voice.
“That would be a first,” Shanis jibed.
“Let us hear what she has to say,” Larris said, grinning at Shanis’ insult.
“What if you are right, and this is one small piece of a big army?” she said. “You told us that you must find the Silver Serpent in order to counter some unknown threat to the kingdom. What if this army is that threat? If we don’t find it, do they win?”
Oskar smacked himself in the forehead, and turned to stare across the fire at Larris, who looked equally amazed. Everyone sat in silent amazement. Shanis was in such shock that Oskar believed he could knock her over with a stick.
“I’m sorry, was that a foolish idea?” Khalyndryn looked embarrassed that she had spoken up.
“Far from it,” Larris said. “My dear, you have convinced me. In the morning, we move on. We must succeed in our quest. I truly believe that the fate of our kingdom rests on our shoulders.”
Shanis hated drawing a middle watch; it always left her feeling groggy the next morning. She preferred waking up extra early for the last watch, rather than have her sleep broken into pieces. She drew her cloak tighter around her, and pulled her knees to her chest. The moon had long since departed, leaving only a faint glow above the dagger peaks of the surrounding mountains.
Hyda’s words weighed heavy on her heart. Which of her companions could be a traitor? It was difficult to believe it of any of them. She evaluated each of them, trying to be objective.
Hierm? Two days before, she would have said “never”, but now she was not so sure. She could not rid herself of the memory of her best friend vanishing into the hut with that…girl. With a shake of the head, she rattled the thought out of her mind, but the bitterness remained. How could he have done that? Another thought occurred to her. Was it possible that the betrayal had already occurred? Could Hyda have been making reference to Hierm’s betrayal of their friendship?
She dismissed the idea almost as soon as it entered her mind. The old woman had clearly indicated that the betrayal would take place in the future. Even more than that, she knew intuitively that it was wrong.
Besides, she wasn’t being entirely fair to Hierm. Yes, she knew that he had feelings for her, but had she reciprocated those feelings? Not really. In fact, how did she feel about Hierm? Did she want anything more than friendship from him? Was it possible that she took some sort of perverse pleasure from the situation: enjoying the admiration, but keeping him at a safe distance? It couldn’t be. Girls like Khalyndryn kept boys on a string, not her. Or did she? A weight hung like a stone in the pit of her stomach, and she hastily moved her thoughts along.
Oskar? Could he betray them? Objectively, she could imagine him getting swept up in the excitement of the adventure, and making an honest mistake. Shanis believed him to be naïve enough to manipulated under the right circumstances.
Larris was a possibility. His quest was of the utmost importance to him. Would he let anyone stand in the way? He was, after all, nobility, and nobles were not famous for caring one whit for regular folk. Then again, Larris had not thus far conformed to her notions of royalty. He did not treat the others as if he was their better. He also impressed Shanis as being an honorable person.
What about Allyn? He was an enigma: fiercely loyal to Larris, but in a manner that seemed to say that their relationship was one of near-equals. He did not, however, seem the sort to act completely independently.
She put off Khalyndryn until last. Though Shanis was convinced that Khalyndryn would not betray the group out of malice, the fact remained that the girl could be a fool at times. She was definitely the most vulnerable member of their little party. Would she be the one?
“Talking to yourself?” Oskar emerged from the darkness of the cave and sat down next to her. He reached over and laid a tentative hand on her shoulder. “Sorry if I’m disturbing yo
u. I couldn’t sleep.” He stretched his legs out straight in front of him, toes pointed forward, arched his back, and groaned deeply. “Even with a blanket under you, the rocks just seem to suck the warmth right out of you.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” Shanis said. “My backside feels like ice. Don’t say anything.” She frowned comically, then scooted up against him and laid her head on his shoulder. She felt his arm around her as he gave her a squeeze. If she ever had a brother, she would want him to be like Oskar.
“What happened in the cave?” His voice was nonchalant as he stared up at the sky. “You didn’t tell us everything. I know you well enough to know that something is wrong.” He let the statement hang there between them. Unusual, as Oskar was seldom comfortable with silence for any length of time.
She wanted to tell him, to unburden herself. But what if it had not really happened? Perhaps the fatigue and the strain had been too much, and the old woman and her prophecy had been a hallucination? Perhaps she shouldn’t…
“There was a woman.” The story poured forth despite her reservations. Hyda’s advice that they must all remain together if they were to succeed. Her apparent distress at what she saw in her scrying. The exhortation that they, that she, must succeed. She held back the detail that one of her companions was untrue. It didn’t seem right to burden Oskar with it. Even if he was not the one, he would drive himself mad with worry that it would be him. What was more, she could not see him keeping it to himself for long. If the group were to remain united through the quest, they could not afford the suspicion that such a revelation would raise.
Oskar just listened. When she had finished, he pulled her close, giving her a hard squeeze. “Did she say anything at all about what frightened her, or why it’s so important that we succeed?”
“No. She was looking down into the bowl, and all of a sudden her eyes got big, and she looked like she had seen a ghost. She told me that we had to succeed, that I must hold fast, and then…”
“What?”
“And then I fell asleep, I suppose. Oskar…” She wasn’t sure she wanted to tell him this next bit. “When I woke up, everything was different. The cave was smaller, and it was empty. No fire, no old woman, nothing.”
“Maybe she carried you to another cave,” he said with little conviction.
“It was the only cave in that cliff face,” she argued. “I wonder if I dreamed it all.”
“You didn’t dream it,” he said. “I can tell by the way you’re reacting just to the memory. It was real. It happened.”
“So what do we do now?”
“The only thing we can do.” He looked out at the dark sky. “We keep going.”
Lerryn slept fitfully, his dreams confused and unsettling. In one, he was trapped at the bottom of a well, struggling to climb out, but his fingers could find no purchase on the slick, smooth stone, and he kept sliding back to the bottom. He was cold and soaked to the bone. Far above him, Orbrad, Nadrin, and Xaver laughed and poured wine down onto his head.
In another dream, one which he remembered with vivid clarity, he knelt before a small fire in a tiny cave as a shriveled old woman told his fortune. She gazed long into a smoking bowl of liquid, then raised her head and fixed him with dead eyes.
You know not where you go. Blind, you are. Blind. With that, she tipped the bowl into the fire. Sparks peppered his face, and thick white smoke burned his eyes and filled his nose. A scream filled his ears. It sounded like his own voice.
He sat up, gasping for air. He took a moment to orient himself to his surroundings, then slipped from his bed. Out of habit, he reached for the bottle of wine. The memory of the well dream still fresh in his mind, he drew his hand back, and moved to the window.
Leaning against the sill, he looked out over the fortified keep of Karkwall castle, and down at the sleeping city. Only the occasional flicker of light broke the perfect blanket of darkness. He thought he could see movement on one of the streets. His night vision had always been excellent.
“I am not blind,” he whispered, “I just need to know where to go next.” He looked up to the heavens, as if the answer lay there. A sparse array of stars was visible through the ever-present curtain of mist, and a faint hint of the new day glowed a faint gray upon the lip of the horizon. Like a beacon from the gods, a star suddenly caught fire and coursed across the sky, hurtling toward the morning light. It took only a moment for the firestar to burn away, ending its brief trek across the dome of the universe. But its fiery imprint was etched upon Lerryn’s mind, and he had his answer. “We shall go east.”