Beyond the Prophecy
Read Beyond the Prophecy Online
Authors: Meredith Mansfield
Beyond the Prophecy
Dual
Magics
Book 3
By Meredith Mansfield
Copyright 2015 Meredith Mansfield
Kindle Edition
Cover Images:
Background Image: Copyright
Marushin
|
Dreamstime.com
White bird: Copyright
Paul Reeves
|
Dreamstime.com
Chapter 8: Distant Manipulation
Chapter 23: Return to the Valley
Chapter 27: Going Separate Ways
Chapter 32: Newcomers to Caere
Chapter 34: The Spirit of the Eagle
Chapter 40: Inside Information
Chapter 44: Managing Expectations
Chapter 51: Soaring to Freedom
1: Ambush
Vatar breathed deeply as the road they’d been following
faded into the grasses of the plains. Ahead of them the world was only
grass-covered earth and cloudless sky, the two melding imperceptibly at the far
horizon. Just as the world should be. He’d been born on these plains and
returning still felt like coming home.
He took a firmer grip on Savara, his four-year-old daughter,
and turned in his saddle to smile at his wife. Thekila smiled back, cradling
their infant son in a Dardani-style sling.
Now that they’d left the last of the outlying farms behind
them, Vatar turned his attention to scanning their surroundings. He wouldn’t
expect many predators this close to the city, but it paid to be careful. He let
the remainder of their party sort themselves out. None were new to the plains.
They’d all be alert to the dangers in their own ways. Even the dogs they’d
brought along from their own farm scented the air and ranged a little ahead or
to the side, ready to warn of any danger.
They were just out of sight of the tree line that marked
that last farm when Vatar twitched his shoulders against the prickly feeling
that usually presaged danger of some kind. He looked back along their little
column. His half-brother, Orleus, stared off in the direction of a small copse
of scrubby trees not far off their path, eyes narrowed. Vatar followed his
gaze. The tall grasses swayed, but not with the wind.
“Is that a lion?” Orleus asked.
“No,” Vatar answered.
Bringing up the rear, Vatar’s cousin, Arcas, added, “I
wouldn’t have to wait to see the movement to know if it was a lion. The only
lions nearby are in the opposite direction.”
Vatar nodded. His connection to the Spirit of the Lion told
him the same thing. Which didn’t rule out other predators, of course. Bear was
unlikely, but wolves might range this close to the farms. So might a swiftcat,
hoping to take down a stray goat.
Thekila stopped her horse and turned her eyes skyward,
tracking an eagle circling high above. Using her connection to the Spirit of
the Eagle, she looked at the prairie through the bird’s eyes and shared what
she saw with Vatar through their bond. He blinked, adjusting to the dizzying
view. Tiny figures moved below. Five larger than the rest, surrounded by five
smaller. That would be themselves and the dogs. But they weren’t alone.
Vatar drew in his breath sharply. Seven—no, eight—men crept
towards them, four on each side, swords drawn. “Ambush!” Eight against
five—four, really, since Thekila knew nothing of fighting on horseback. And
three of them encumbered with the children, because Thekila’s friend Quetza
carried Savara’s twin brother in front of her. At least they were mounted
against men on foot. That would give them some advantage. And, untrained or
not, Thekila wasn’t helpless, by any means.
Vatar reined his horse in close to Thekila’s and lifted a
squirming Savara to set her before Thekila. Protecting her and the children was
the first priority and he’d need both hands for that. Then he pulled his spear
out of its sheath, glad he’d refitted it with a longer shaft for use on
horseback before they left home. Vatar yelled, “Everybody, keep together.”
Quetza closed up beside Thekila. Good. Besides carrying
Zavar, she was a good fighter in her own right. Vatar trusted her to help keep
Thekila and his children safe.
The Dardani herd dogs barked a late warning and would have
run into the grass. Vatar whistled them back and gave them the command to
guard. There was only one more layer of protection at his disposal. Vatar cast
his magical shield to protect Thekila, Quetza, and the children as the first of
the attackers stood up and rushed towards them. He didn’t want to keep that up
for long. He was the only one who could cast it, but the shield drew its power
from Thekila. Best to get this over as quickly as possible. The clashing of
steel on steel told him Arcas and Orleus had already met the assailants on the
other side.
The first man bounced off the shield, which was invisible
even to those with magic. Vatar lowered his spear point and spurred his horse
forward, taking the man in the chest before he had time to catch his balance.
Vatar reined his horse around to face the next enemy. That man had gotten close
enough to strike upward with his sword. Vatar parried the stroke with his
spear, but froze at a wash of fear from Thekila. Had his shield failed to
protect her and the children? He wavered for an instant between dealing with
his opponent
or
turning to protect his family.
Not
us. You. Be careful,
Thekila’s voice said in his mind. Vatar’s hesitation
had allowed the man to draw his sword back for another blow. Vatar swerved his
horse out of the way and then swung his spear point across his attacker’s
throat.
Behind you!
Thekila warned. Vatar wheeled his horse
in the opposite direction and saw the next enemy struggling to move a sword
apparently stuck in midair. In spite of the seriousness of the situation, one
side of his mouth quirked up. Thekila’s work, without a doubt, freezing that
sword in place. Vatar swung the butt of his spear up into the man’s jaw, laying
him out unconscious. The sword arced out away from the fight.
Another wash of fear from Thekila hit Vatar like a wall,
just at the moment that both Savara and Zavar wailed in terror. It wasn’t fear
for him this time. Vatar spun his horse and cursed. One of their attackers had
slipped past Vatar and around the shield he’d cast. The shield only covered one
side and the larger he tried to make it, the more power it drew from Thekila.
Quetza gripped Zavar tight to her left side with one hand
and used Orleus’s old sword to parry the man’s blade. Blood dripped from a
slash by her ear and a spot of blood on her sleeve indicated a possible wound
to her sword arm, but Quetza’s blade didn’t waver. If she was impeded by Zavar,
the attacker was at least equally hampered by the three dogs snapping at his
legs. Vatar dropped the now-useless shield and urged his horse forward. At the
sound of the approaching hooves, the man turned, and Quetza, taking advantage
of the opening, pierced his sword arm with her blade. The man dropped his sword
and Thekila sent it spinning deep into the tall grass with a glance.
Vatar forced himself to ignore Thekila and Quetza trying to
soothe the sobbing children to check what was happening on the other side.
Arcas fought with one of their attackers, hampered by a bleeding wound to his
left shoulder. Orleus’s two dogs had pulled another of the enemy down, though
the bigger dog was bleeding from a gash along his shoulder. Even as Vatar
watched, Orleus’s war-trained horse reared up and struck Orleus’s opponent with
his hooves. The man dropped like one of Savara’s rag dolls, his head tilted at
an impossible angle. Broken neck, most likely. The fourth man tried to run back
toward Caere. Orleus spurred after him, the faster of his two hunting dogs speeding
ahead. That man didn’t have a chance of getting away. Vatar left Orleus to it
and went to help Arcas.
Seeing another rider barreling down on him, the remaining
attacker threw down his sword. Vatar kept his spear leveled at the man’s chest.
“How bad are you hurt?” he asked Arcas.
Arcas shrugged his left shoulder and winced slightly. “Not
bad, I think. I’ll last until we’ve dealt with these, anyway.”
Vatar nodded and fished in his saddlebag for a length of
rope. He tossed the rope to Arcas, who dismounted and started tying up their
captive. As Arcas worked, the man’s dun-colored cape twitched aside, revealing
the blue and green uniform of the Temple Guard. Vatar and Arcas exchanged a
glance and Arcas pulled the bonds tighter. Finishing with the first, they moved
on systematically to the man still held captive by Orleus’s bigger tracking dog
and the one detained by Quetza and the herding dogs, and finally the one Vatar
had knocked unconscious. Meanwhile, Thekila cleaned and tended Quetza’s wounds.
By then, Orleus and Arrow came back, driving a fifth man
before them. Arcas quickly tied him up with the others.
“They’re Temple Guards,” Orleus said.
Vatar nodded. “We know.” He dismounted and advanced on the nearest
man, his Dardani long knife in his hand. With the blade to the man’s throat, he
asked, “Who sent you?”
The man said nothing, cold eyes daring Vatar.
This was the man Quetza had wounded. Orleus twisted his
injured arm savagely. “You were asked a question. I’d advise you to answer it.”
“Gerusa!” the man said, gasping from the pain. “It was High
Councilor Gerusa. She paid us to kill you.”
Vatar narrowed his eyes. This one had been caught while
attacking Quetza—and Zavar. “Who, exactly, were you supposed to kill?”
The man clamped his mouth shut until Orleus twisted his arm
again. “All of you.”
“
All
of us?” Thekila’s voice held an unaccustomed
tremor. “Even the
babies
?”
The man had the grace to avert his eyes. “Yes.”
Vatar closed his eyes and drew in several deep breaths,
trying to calm himself. When he felt he could control his voice, he gestured to
the fallen men. “See to Arcas’s wound and your dog. Then gather up the bodies.
I’m going to bespeak Father. He needs to know about this.”
Orleus and Arcas nodded.
“Father!”
Vatar called with his mind.
“Vatar? What is it? I thought you were leaving for Zeda
today.”
Vatar gritted his teeth.
“We did. We were ambushed soon
after we reached the plains.”
“Are you all right? What about Thekila and the children?”
Father’s mental voice was immediately concerned.
“Minor wounds only, Father. We have five prisoners. The
other three are dead. They’re Temple Guards. Gerusa sent them.”
Father huffed in anger and frustration.
“That bitch never
did understand the concept of defeat. Are you going to bring them back?”
Vatar shook his head, even though he knew Father couldn’t
see it. “
No. I think we’re at the limit of Gerusa’s reach. She’d have
trouble sending anyone farther onto the plains than this. If we turned around,
we could be walking into another trap. Or she might try something else. We’re
safer going forward from here, I think.”
“What will you do with your prisoners?
”
Vatar glanced toward where Orleus and Arcas had dumped the
five survivors in the sparse shade of a bush, upwind from the place where the
three bodies had been collected.
“We’ve tied them up and we’re going to
leave them right here. The High Council can send someone for them. Or not. If
not, the lions will likely find them.”
“That’s not like you, Vatar.”
Vatar drew a few more deep breaths before answering.
“It
wasn’t just me they were sent to kill. They would have killed Thekila and my
children, too. And they took Gerusa’s orders with that understanding. They
don’t deserve any better.”
“I’ll send someone out to retrieve them. And to arrest
Gerusa.”
Father’s voice vibrated with an echo of Vatar’s anger.
“Thank you, Father. I’ll contact you again when we reach
Zeda.”
“Have a safe trip. The rest of it, anyway.”
Vatar rode up in front of the prisoners. “I’ve informed High
Councilor Veleus that you’re here. He’ll send someone to retrieve you. You’d
better hope that they find you before the lions do.” He half closed his eyes in
concentration and gestured to the south. “There’s a pride of lions about two
miles that way. They’re not quite ready to hunt, yet. So you have a chance. Of
course, the smell of blood may draw them.”
Before they started forward again, Vatar took Savara back
from Thekila. The little girl clung to him as he set her in front of him. “I
told you I’d never let them hurt you again.”
Savara nodded.
“Let’s ride,” Vatar said as Thekila moved her horse beside
his.
~
When they reached Zeda late on the third day, Vatar smiled
to see his whole family, including Thekila’s younger brother, Theklan waiting for
them. Clearly, Thekila had forewarned her brother by Far Speech and he’d shared
the information. There might be some advantages to having just these few
Dardani know about his magic after all.
He waited until they were settled into the coolness of their
sod hut, which had already been prepared for them, before contacting his father
again. “
Father?”
“Yes, Vatar?”
“We’ve arrived safely at Zeda. I said I’d let you know.”
Vatar
paused a moment. His earlier anger had faded on the second day—and become tinged
with just a hint of guilt. He didn’t
think
he’d guessed wrong, but . . .
“Did the men you sent find the ambushers? Before the lions got there?”
Father chuckled.
“Not exactly. But the lions started with
the ones that were already dead, so the live ones were brought back without any
additional injuries. Physically, anyway. But you knew that would happen, didn’t
you?”
Vatar let out a relieved sigh.
“I thought it would. Lions
usually won’t waste energy when they don’t need to. What about Gerusa?”
Father sighed.
“Gerusa seems to have had more informants
than we realized. She knew that her ambush had failed. Before I could get the
High Council to issue an order for her arrest, she’d already fled Caere. It’s
almost certain that she took ship to Kausalya.”
“Won’t Kausalya just return her if you ask?”
Vatar
asked.
“Possibly. We’ve certainly warned them about her and
asked for her return. But Gerusa has supporters there, too.”
“Why?”
Vatar asked.
“The mutiny of the unTalented here last winter caused a
lot of concern among the Kausalyan Council. They wanted to implement some
rather draconian measures to prevent it from spreading to them. Gerusa backed
them. Well, she was always one for exerting more control rather than less.
There’s at least a chance they’ll give her shelter instead of returning her to
us.”
