Lord of Avalon (7 page)

“At a Blethryn crafts show,” he said. “Memma and I had gone
to your city in the growing season and the Acolyte stopped by our booth to
admire our artwork. When he caught sight of Symal, he admired her as well.”

Rydah vaguely remembered the fair. Why hadn’t his brother
contacted him while he’d been in town? He already knew the answer to that
question—Farda had believed, perhaps correctly, that he might shame his
brother. The fallen Damon visiting his Damon brother. What would the neighbors
have thought?

Farda’s sacrifice troubled Rydah because it hit close to
home. How could he be so concerned about his social status? He hadn’t grown up
that way. It seemed he’d begun to fall victim to social climbing, despite his
pledge to himself that he’d never do such a thing.

After catching him up on current family news, Farda began
reminiscing. This seemed odd to Rydah—given his brother’s concern over his
step-daughter’s whereabouts. He wondered why Farda was wasting time with
memories.

“Remember that dog you found? You wanted to keep it, but dad
said no. You hid it under the house for a
dal
!” He laughed as if it were
a funny memory.

Rydah remembered the incident painfully because once the dog
was discovered, his father drove it off.

“What was his name, anyway? Didn’t you call it Burko?”

“No,” Rydah said with more heat than he meant to. “He was
Barlo.” Farda should remember the name—he had suggested it!

Farda paid no attention to his brother’s pain and went on to
another story. “What about that time you got caught peeking into the windows at
the slave girl down the road? Boy, I thought dad would whip you for sure!”

“I wasn’t peeking! I was looking for you! I had seen you
sneaking around there, so I followed, then I lost you. Then I looked into the
window to see if you had gone in. That’s all. Why bring that up now?”

Suddenly, Rydah felt like the little brother again and he
was embarrassed in front of his breeder.

“Sorry, little brother, but I thought I should tell you the
truth after all these
rynes
. I
had
been looking in the windows at
that slave—remember her name? When I heard a noise, I ran away. Only later did
I find out it was you I’d heard approaching! And that you’d been caught doing
what I had been doing! Only you weren’t doing it!” He laughed out loud.

Rydah burned. That slave, Ganari,
had
been beautiful.
Not as beautiful as Jenya, but she did have larger breasts, he remembered. That
didn’t matter to a nine-
ryne
-old, however. He had wanted to find his
brother.

His father didn’t beat him. He thought it meant Rydah was
growing up. There had been some serious teasing by his brother, but otherwise
it wasn’t an issue. Boys could see naked slaves outside every sun. Rydah
wondered why his brother was making a big deal out of such a thin memory now?

“I wish you didn’t have to get back on the morrow, little
brother,” Farda said, his voice dropping in pitch. “But I know you have that
big project for High Lord Bandar to complete.”

His gaze pinned Rydah just as he had been about to deny it.
Suddenly, Rydah knew, Farda’s comment had been for Apnar’s benefit. Farda would
have no idea what he was working on and furthermore, he had begged him to come
out to help search—why would he send him home again so soon?

It was obvious. Wherever Rydah would go, he’d be followed by
soldiers. Unless the soldiers thought he was simply returning home.

“You were always terrible at directions,” Farda continued.
“I have a map of the region, if you’d like to get your bearings for your return
trip.”

More cryptic talk. Farda knew as well as Rydah that the road
led almost straight back to Blethryn, with few turns. A drunken monk could
hardly get lost.

Farda was trying to tell him something, but what?

“Yes,” he said, playing for time. “Some of those
intersections make me dizzy. I’m not sure which way to turn sometimes.”

“Here, little brother.” He rose and went to his worktable.
He pulled a map from a wooden box and spread it out.

Looking at it, Rydah could see the road leading west.
Smaller villages were dotted here and there off side roads. Because this was a
farming region, most families were scattered all over. The villages were small,
but key to communication and commerce.

Apnar came over as Farda showed Rydah the route. “Look, it’s
almost a straight line. You need to make a left turn here and another left
here.” He traced it with a stubby forefinger. Rydah paid little attention to
it—he was looking over the other villages, trying to understand what his
brother was saying.

Apnar looked bored.

“Sure, I see. It was this intersection here that confused
me,” he pointed. Meanwhile, he was reading the names of small towns. Perhaps
there was something there…

Pelgron, Dashelstep, Mantaro—none of these names seemed
unusual.

Rydah’s mind raced.
What was Farda trying to tell me?

“Just aim your wagon at the rising sun tomorrow and you
shouldn’t have difficulty,” Farda said.

Then Rydah noticed his brother’s little finger, tapping
lightly well below where his forefinger was pointing. The tiny dots nearest it
were Lapron and Balgari.

He almost gasped when it hit him.

Of course! The incidents Farda had mentioned! Barlo was the
dog and Ganari had been the sexy slave girl. Put them together and Farda had
just told him where he thought his daughter and the Acolyte might be: Balgari.

Looking quickly, while pretending to follow the map, Rydah
found a turnoff about five leagues west that wound its way down past Mantaro to
the tiny village of Balgari. No doubt the soldiers had been there already. How
would he find the Acolyte and Symal if they hadn’t?

There was no way to ask his brother. Already, Farda was
folding the map up and putting it away. “You need to develop a better sense of
dir—”

“No need to concern yourself, m’lord,” Apnar interrupted
smoothly. “My men will accompany you home.”

Rydah froze. “Oh, there’s no need of that, Apnar. I’m sure
your men are needed in the search.”

“Not at all,” he said, steel in his voice. “I must send
messages back anyway, so I have two riders heading to Blethryn on the morrow.”

“Good,” Rydah said hollowly, realizing he was trapped. “I
would feel safer with the High Lord’s men.”

For the briefest of moments, Rydah and Farda read each
other’s expressions. “Of course, you’ll stay here tonight,” Farda said,
recovering quickly. “The guard has been sleeping on the couch, but I think we
can fit you in upstairs. Your slave can be chained up outside.”

Rydah had been about to accept, thinking that during the
night, his brother could whisper where he thinks Symal is hiding when Apnar
again moved in.

“I wouldn’t think of taking a sleeping spot away from a
Damon,” he said, his eyes glinting. “Please take my couch. I would be pleased
to sleep on the floor.”

His meaning was clear—he would not allow the two brothers to
be together so they could pass secret messages.

Except he didn’t know that, for the most part, they already
had.

The next morning, Rydah was beside himself. He didn’t know
how to get away from the soldiers, and even if he could get away, he had no
idea how to search the area around Balgari to find the Acolyte and Symal. He
hadn’t been able to speak to his brother privately all night.

And even if he found them, it still didn’t solve the problem
of how to help them.

Rydah tried not to let his dejection show on his face as he
stepped into the carriage. The two soldiers waited nearby on horseback. Rydah
observed Apnar hand the older one of them an envelope, probably meant for
Kendam—or perhaps Bandar himself. He ached to find out what was in it. Was
there news of the Acolyte?

Apnar came over to him. “M’lord, I’m sending Robnak and
Mardor along with you. They will see you safely to Blethryn.”

Rydah thanked him. What else could he do?

“Did you sleep well, m’lord?” Jenya asked as she climbed
into the carriage.

“Oh, yes, fine,” he said distractedly, seeing Apnar’s cold
blue eyes on him. Automatically, he began to chain her to the iron railing at
the front of the carriage, more for Apnar’s benefit than his. “And you?”

“Yes, m’lord. Madam Memma even came out to make sure I was
comfortable before going to bed. She gave me a pillow!”

Rydah paused. Memma gave her a pillow? That was an
unheard-of kindness to a slave. Slaves were used to sleeping outside at night
during the hot season. And Jenya has probably never used a pillow in her life
before—

His heart lurched. Where they alone for a few moments? Did
Memma pass on a message?

He looked at Jenya, trying to catch her eye. Jenya, seeing
Apnar, simply stared at the railing in front of her and said nothing.

Rydah climbed in and they started off, the two soldiers
riding ahead a few paces. He tried to come up with a solution, but every one
met with failure and arrest.

If he tried to run, they’d know he knew something. He’d be
arrested and made to talk. Rydah couldn’t kill the guards—it wasn’t in him to
do violence like a Warrior. Besides, a killing would not untangle the thorny
knots of love, it would only make them worse. The only solution that occurred
to him was to return to Blethryn, and once the soldiers left him, ride east
again to the turnoff and try to find where the Acolyte and Symal might be
hiding.

He feared much of this sun would be wasted.

The soldiers seemed to be in no hurry to get back. That
letter Apnar gave the soldiers must not be very important. He wanted to shake
the guards and tell them the High Lord needed the message right away and they’d
better ride ahead. That would never fool anyone, of course. It would only raise
suspicion. He was sure Apnar had told the men to watch the lord carefully.

They traveled east for four leagues without speaking, a
soldier riding along either side of the carriage, making it impossible for
Rydah to talk to Jenya. She seemed nervous.

“Did you see that, m’lord?” Jenya said suddenly. Robnak
turned to her, his eyebrow a question mark.

“What? No. What was it?” Rydah asked.

“A biter beetle! It swooped down toward the horses!” A biter
beetle, also called a
kalachar
, was known for sucking the blood of
beasts and men. They could grow large in the hot season—up to the size of one’s
thumb—and became quite tenacious as the wet season approached.

Both Robnak and Mardor pulled away and looked around. If a
kalachar
bit one of the horses, it could bolt and might upset the carriage. These
insects were not to be ignored.

Rydah hadn’t seen anything. He’d been lost in thought.
“Well, I shouldn’t worry—” he started to say.

With a shriek, Jenya wrenched herself from her seat,
swatting wildly in the air. Rydah could still see nothing. His eyes darted,
looking for the
kalachar
. Jenya, her arms waving, pitched over the side
of the carriage and was dragged along by her chain before Rydah could yank the
horse to a stop.

“Guards! Help me!” he ordered as he jumped out. The solders
reined their steeds and hopped down, rushing to help free the injured breeder.

“She may already be carrying my child!” He shouted, running
around the carriage to her side. He crouched down and unlocked the chain,
allowing her to slip down to the road.

“A biter beetle, m’lord,” she gasped. “I fear them so. I
know I shouldn’t. I’m sorry, m’lord.”

“It’s all right,” he said, checking her wounds. With the
help of the two soldiers, they lifted her up into the shaded carriage, careful
not to jar her in case she had broken bones.

Rydah saw her right leg and buttock were scraped raw and
oozing blood. “Did you break anything?” he asked anxiously.

“I’m not sure, sire. My leg hurts. My side.”

“Do you know where a doctor might be around here?” He asked
the older guard, Robnak.

“Yes, sire. There’s a doctor in Mantaro, about two leagues
south of here.”

“All right, I’m heading that way.”

The two guards looked at each other, confused. This hadn’t
been in their orders. “Sire, we’re supposed to accompany you to Blethryn,”
Robnak said.

“I must get help! Accompany us to the doctor’s, if you
must!” He climbed into the carriage and eased under Jenya’s head, letting her
rest it in his lap. He picked up the reins.

“But, sire, I have an important message to deliver!”

“Then deliver it!” He snapped the reins and the horse jerked
ahead, leaving the guards standing there, mouths agape.

Rydah did not care what they did. His only concern was to
his new breeder. To have her in jeopardy like this just a
dal
after he’d
finally taken possession of her was unthinkable!

When he turned toward Mantaro, he observed Robnak continuing
west, while the younger one, Mardor, followed the carriage. A simple solution
to their problem. Idly, he wondered if he’d be able to slip past this remaining
guard.

By Rand! Can it be?
he thought.
Did Jenya fall
from the carriage on purpose?

“Jenya,” he whispered, making sure the guard was still too
far away to hear his voice.

“Yes, master,” she said softly, pain in her voice.

“There was no
kalachar
, was there?”

“No, master.”

“You did that on purpose, just so we’d head in the right
direction, didn’t you?”

“Yes, m’lord.”

“Did Memma tell you something when she brought you a
pillow?”

“Yes, master.”

Rydah marveled at this plucky slave. At that moment, Mardor
came alongside, preventing him from asking her anything else.

Rydah was stunned. Farda couldn’t get to him, so he had his
wife go to Jenya. Very clever.

But to pull it off, Jenya had to fall from the carriage and
injure herself. Her sacrifice showed how much she believed in Rydah to solve
this dilemma. Her trust weighed on him.

What could he do? He was a mere scribe…