Origin (14 page)

“I appreciate the trust that you’ve both shown me today,” Ayron said calmly. “And I will do my very best to earn that trust, with my life if need be. I also promise you that when I return to Findara, I will do everything I can to investigate the crimes committed against Rhianna and my brother. Elves live a long life and I have no doubt that the perpetrators of the crime are still alive and possibly still serving in positions of confidence. Rhianna will have justice, and both Rhys and Elwyn will see that we have integrity, both as a people, but more importantly as a family.”

“Thank you. I think it would be wonderful if Rhys had a reason to give up some of the grief he carries, and to be confident in encouraging Elwyn to develop a relationship with her father.”

“Before you return to the wagon Clayre, I want to talk to you about a slight change in plans. I hoped that we could get far enough away from Tarlon to stop for the night. Unfortunately we have to travel very slowly so as to not jostle Rhys too much. My healer has concerns about reopening his wound if he gets bounced around by too many bumps and ruts. Because of that, we are planning to stop for an evening meal and a short rest. Then we’ll continue traveling on throughout the night. That will put us at the city of Port Strabo by late tomorrow afternoon.”

“But won’t that be hard on your soldiers? They’ve had a very long and difficult day and need some rest, probably more than we do. And if we are attacked, they will need to be strong and sharp for the fight.”

“My soldiers are used to long hours in the saddle. Our mounts are trained to travel together so that, while their riders sleep, they stay in formation. We will take turns resting during the night, so please don’t worry about us. You have enough to worry about, and this is something we have all done before. Besides, every league we travel will provide us with a little more safety from an attack. We want Stefan’s assassins in the position of having to play catch up. I will make sure that at least two of my soldiers are awake at all times. The morden and Kormir’s drakenhawk will also keep watch. We won’t get caught off guard if we are pursued by another group of assassins.”

“Well I don’t have a very good argument to contest that, so I will busy myself helping to fix us a good meal,” she said while walking over to where one of Ayron’s soldiers was building a fire.

Within the hour, a hearty dinner was prepared and being consumed by all. Clayre had been truthful in her claim of being a good cook, and the villagers had been extremely generous in donating lots of items for her to work with. Ayron had to admit that it was a much better meal than they would have had if his soldiers prepared the food. He hoped that Kormir, who currently did most of their cooking, would learn something from her during their journey together. As soon as dinner was ready, Clayre headed back to the wagon with some food for herself and Rhys. Ayron watched the two of them together as she tenderly offered Rhys spoons of stew and small bites of biscuit. It puzzled him how they could be so close and intimate in their actions and behavior with one another, and yet not seem to willingly acknowledge the true depth of their feelings for each other. To Ayron, this seemed to be yet another example of love gone wrong.

Once the evening meal was over and the camp cleaned up, Ayron took a few moments to confer with his soldiers, while Clayre checked Rhys’ dressing and tried to make him as comfortable as possible before they resumed their journey. First Ayron asked Stuart how Tomak was holding up pulling the wagon. Stuart smiled as he told him that Tomak felt that pulling Rhys and Clayre was not much more work than carrying him after he had eaten a large meal. Ayron chuckled at Tomak’s attempt at humor. He then shared with the soldiers, his plan to ride throughout the night and asked them to divide themselves up into three groups; one to sleep, one to scout, and one to ride guard along both sides of the wagon. Although he had only a dozen soldiers with him, he would have trusted any one of them with his life. As the soldiers began to talk among themselves, Ayron stepped a short distance away so that he could take care of one more task before they set out.

Ayron reached out his mind seeking Keroc. His little drakenhawk was happy to sense his presence. Ayron sent Keroc a mental image of Rhys and Clayre both doing well eating dinner so that he could convey the information to Thane and Elwyn. In return, Keroc sent him some images. Ayron was happy to see that Thane had taken his advice and made camp as soon as they were a good distance away from the village. He was please and relieved that Keroc was impressed by Elwyn’s forestry skills, but was a bit puzzled when Keroc impressed upon him for the second time her mixed feelings about the events of the day, her ability to fight against a live combatant, and her future. Drakenhawks never communicated in any way with females of any race, and Ayron wondered how Keroc knew what she was thinking and feeling. When he inquired, Keroc seemed to just ignore the subject and began sending images of Thane along with his thoughts and feelings. Ayron was glad to know that Thane and Elwyn seemed to be getting along so well. He knew that their lives might just depend on the trust and confidence that they would be able to quickly build up between them. After giving Keroc some instructions to convey to Thane about the next day’s travel, Ayron let the little drakenhawk go back to his watch. As he broke contact, he realized that Keroc was going to have to mature a lot over the next few days. He prayed that they would reach Kren safely without encountering any assassins.

After breaking contact with Keroc, he walked over to the wagon where Rhys and Clayre were settled in for the evening ride and let them know that Elwyn and Thane were doing well and were settled for the evening. He also told them that they made good time and traveled far enough to be a safe distance from the village. The news seemed to cheer Clayre and relax Rhys. Before he and Clayre finished speaking, Rhys was again in a deep slumber. Ayron moved away from the wagon, called to his troops, mounted Gerrack, and led the way westward toward Port Strabo.

They traveled slowly along the road for the next few hours in silence that was occasionally interrupted by soft whispers. Ayron spent much of the time thinking about Elwyn and trying to make some sense of what he knew about her. He had the sworn word of Clayre, whom he trusted, that she had been present at Elwyn’s birth and that Rhianna was her mother. By the date of her birth, her elven features, and her violet eyes, he knew that Azavon had to be her father. There were several things about her that didn’t make sense to him though. The first was how she had all of the physical features and natural abilities of an elf? He and his brother were only three-quarters elf, and Rhianna had been human, and yet the young woman, both in appearance and abilities resembled a pure-blood elf. Another question that perplexed him was how Elwyn had been able to life-bond with Rhianna’s morden Gemma? The thing that confounded him the most, was how she could have stayed so totally ignorant of whom and what she was for sixteen seasons? He just could not understand why Rhys hadn’t told her anything at all about her background. Elwyn knew nothing of her father, not even his name. He found it even stranger that she knew very little of her own mother.

Finally there was the question of how Rhianna came to Tarlon, and who was buried in the cemetery in Findara? This was the issue that concerned him the most. There had to be a conspiracy of major proportions at work in Silvendil for the situation to have occurred the way it did. Was the trip to Grimsfyne, that he and Azavon felt forced by the council to make, part of a larger plan? Who had frightened and mistreated Rhianna to the point where she felt it necessary to flee for her life? Was there actually a body buried in the queen’s grave in Findara? If there was, then who was it? When they returned from Grimsfyne and were met by the council with the sad news; who knew the truth and who had just bought into the story? It was obvious to him that his brother must have been lied to by one or more of his most trusted advisors. It would have been impossible for the queen of Silvendil to die and be buried without the knowledge of one or more of Azavon’s council members and the Elder Healer. That meant that Azavon was still working closely with traitors. Then another disturbing question came to mind; where were his mother and sister while all of this was taking place?

Ayron knew that he should find a way to communicate the incredible events of the day to Azavon, but in truth, he wasn’t sure how to break the news to him. There was the possibility that Azavon would refuse to believe him. Of course, if he did believe him, Azavon would be overjoyed at first. But knowing his brother, those feelings would shortly be followed by unrestrained fury at the idea that he had been lied to by people he trusted to tell him the truth. Even Ayron, who hated court intrigue, knew that the matter would have to be handled carefully, or Azavon’s own life could be in jeopardy. Bringing Elwyn into this situation also concerned him. If Rhianna had been perceived as a threat, how would the perpetrators of the crime against Rhianna view Elwyn? Ayron hated to ask Keroc to keep the news from Azavon’s Drakenhawk, Torjon, but he felt it would be better for him to get to know Elwyn and see how much of the mystery they could piece together before involving Azavon. Keroc, at least for now, seemed to agree.

Ayron was brought abruptly back to the present by a loud cracking sound. The wagon suddenly tilted to one side and Tomak slowly and carefully brought it to a halt. At first glance, it looked as if one of the wagon wheels was broken. Ayron dismounted and went over to inform Clayre that they were checking for damage. He was frustrated and angry to hear that one of the wagon wheels split along a main spoke and there was no way to quickly repair it. The good thing was that his soldiers brought along supplies, spare wood, and metal in case they had a problem with the wagon, so they would be able to make repairs. The bad news was that it looked as if their progress might be delayed for two or three hours. Ayron walked over to confer with his soldiers about the time and extent of the repairs that would need to be made. Some of them started unloading the wagon, while others carefully unloaded the littler carrying Rhys. Ayron helped Clayre down from the wagon and asked Stuart to make a small fire. He then went to the front of the wagon and unharnessed Tomak, so that he could rest comfortably until they were ready to continue the journey.

Over the next few hours, most of the soldiers worked hard to repair the wheel as quickly as possible, making sure that it would be sturdy enough to reach Port Strabo. Ayron decided to purchase a new wagon as soon as they arrived in the city to eliminate the possibility of this same thing happening on the second and more difficult leg of their journey. While they waited, Clayre made some broth which she was feeding to Rhys, hoping to keep his strength up. She also made some tea for the soldiers which they gratefully consumed. When the repairs were completed, Ayron’s soldiers loaded the litter where Rhys lie sleeping, the supplies, and Clayre back into the wagon. Stuart harnessed Tomak and hitched him to the wagon again and they continued their journey to Port Strabo.

“All in all,” he thought. “We only lost about two and a half hours. It could have been much worse.”

Just then, Krill, who was flying scout behind them, sent him a picture of several men approaching them from the northeast. Ayron sent Alea, Mintas, Briten, and Elan to investigate. He didn’t want to attack any unsuspecting travelers on their way to Port Strabo. Within minutes, Ayron could hear the clashing of swords as Krill flashed a picture into his mind of his troops being sadly outnumbered. Ayron leapt on Gerrack’s back shouting orders to Stuart, Hayvar and Donil to stay and guard the wagon. Then he and the rest of the soldiers rushed off to join the fighting. The battle was taking place in some woods about a quarter mile from where they had stopped for repairs. Although they were outnumbered, the men they were fighting were poorly trained and even more poorly equipped to do battle with even his unseasoned troops. Within a short time, all sixteen assassins were lying dead; some by sword, some from arrows, and still others from wounds inflicted upon them by the drakenhawk Krill and the morden. All in all Ayron considered it a win for their side, although he had no illusions that this would be their last encounter with the enemy. Someone was determined to see Rhys and Elwyn dead.

Ayron and his soldiers headed back to the campsite where they took another hour to dispense hot tea, bring those left behind up to date on the details of the battle, and tend to the injured; Elan and Tilar needed a few stitches.

Ayron was more determined than ever to push as hard as possible, so that they would reach Port Strabo before dark the next day. Once there, his men could buy another wagon, pick up some additional supplies, and purchase some more weaponry. He definitely had the feeling that they were on borrowed time, and needed to be as prepared as possible for whatever was to come.

They rode uninterrupted for several more hours. The recent attack had everyone on edge. Rhys seemed to be the only one who could sleep. Just as dawn was breaking and the sun began to lighten the sky, they left the old trade route for a larger, better maintained road that would take them to Port Strabo. The road would be easier on Rhys and get them to the city a little sooner than if they continued along the trail they’d been on. Ayron had two of his soldiers try to remove as much evidence of their passing as they could, in an effort to throw off any pursuers. As the sun was beginning to peek over the tops of the eastern mountains, Ayron began to search for a suitable place to stop for a morning meal. His thoughts drifted to Elwyn and Thane and he wondered if they were awake and traveling north on their way to Kren as he and the rest of his party were stopping to rest.

E
lwyn woke up to the sounds of nature all around her. These sounds, over the seasons, helped to bring her feelings of peace and a sense of belonging. When she was steeped in nature, she always had a sense of safety and security. This morning the song birds were chirping their cheerful songs to the staccato beats of their more aggressive cousins, who were pecking at the trees looking for breakfast. Gemma, also impatient for her breakfast, was busy grazing noisily on the grass that grew nearby. As she rolled over, the sun warmed her upturned face as it peered down into the thicket where she lay, while the soft breezes winding their way among the trees and bushes created a rustling sound that was curiously calming. At first, it felt like any of her other forays into the woodlands. Then she glanced over, saw Thane, and knew that the events of the past twenty-four hours had all been real.