Search for Audric (29 page)

"Don't spend your gold yet," scowled the other man. "He has escaped us many times in the past."

"Not this time," snarled the first man. "He has nowhere to go."

Gunnar began to get a clear idea of what was going on, but he did not know who the bounty hunters were after. He would not interfere with the capture of a criminal, but there was a chance that it could be Jared's father that they were after. More shouting came from across the brambles, and curses flew from the nearby men.

"Who is that?" snarled one of the men.

"I have no idea," replied the other man, "but his sword is drawn. Do we help with their fight or bag the old man?"

"You can go help them if you want," laughed the first man. "I am staying here to get my bounty."

"It's only one man," the other replied. "They can handle him."

Gunnar moved to get a better view of what was happening. His eyes widened as he saw Prince Derri racing through the brambles with his sword held high. The distant two men turned to fight him, and Gunnar knew that it was Jared's father in the tunnel crawling towards him. He drew his sword and moved stealthily towards the trail.

"Here he comes," one of the men said softly. "I can hear him crawling."

"So can I," Gunnar said sharply as he stepped out onto the trail. "Who is it that you are hunting?"

"Stay out of this," snarled one of the men. "We've hunted this criminal for years, and we are not splitting the gold with a newcomer."

"I am not asking for gold," Gunnar replied steadily. "I asked who it was."

The two men looked at each other and then suddenly charged Gunnar in unison. The Arin prince jumped back as the men slashed out with their swords. As they once again moved to attack in unison, Gunnar sidestepped to his right, which thwarted the leftmost man's swing. He met the other man's swing with a steady block and pushed hard at his opponent. The man stumbled back a step and knocked into his partner. Gunnar did not hesitate. He brought his two-handed sword down sharply, slicing into the man's left shoulder. The man tried to move back another step, but he could not. His partner was trying to move forward to help with the battle.

Gunnar pulled back his sword and swiftly plunged it forward into the man's chest. Gunnar pulled his sword out of the body and instinctively leaped backwards. The sudden move saved his life as the second man's sword sliced through the air where Gunnar had just been standing. Gunnar struck before the man could recover from his swing. He slashed out with his long sword and cut the underside of the man's arm as he was preparing another blow. The strike nearly severed the arm, and the man's sword fell from his hand, but Gunnar was already into his next move. The prince's sword sliced into his opponent's neck, and the man's body tumbled on top of his useless sword.

Gunnar rushed towards the tunnel exit just as an old man was crawling out of it. The man saw boots approaching and tried to wiggle back into the tunnel, but Gunnar dropped his sword and dove for the tunnel. He reached in and grabbed the man's tunic. The man struggled to break away, but Gunnar overpowered the old man. With a steady pull, he dragged the old man out of the tunnel. The man tried to break free, apparently not realizing that he had just been saved. Gunnar wanted desperately to make sure that Prince Derri was alright, but the man wouldn't stop fighting with him. Gunnar rose and dragged the old man to his feet.

"Stop fighting," snapped the Arin prince. "I am not going to hurt you."

Gunnar peered across the brambles and could see two bodies, but he could not identify them, and he could not see the third man. The sky was already beginning to darken.

"Kenra!" shouted Gunnar. "Can you hear me?"

The old man continued to struggle, and Gunnar could not hear any reply. He was concerned that an enemy would emerge from the tunnel and he would be occupied holding the panicked old man.

"If you don't stop struggling," Gunnar said sharply, "I am going to have to knock you out so I can defend myself and you. That will not make Jared happy."

The old man immediately stopped struggling. "What do you know about Jared?" he asked nervously.

"He is my friend," Gunnar replied. "Now be quiet so I can tell who is coming through this tunnel after you."

"Gunnar?" came a distant voice.

"Kenra!" Gunnar shouted with a broad smile on his face. "Come on out."

"You know him?" the old man asked softly.

"He is also a friend," nodded Gunnar. "I was not sure if he had managed to kill the other two bounty hunters or not. I had to know who was coming."

Prince Derri crawled out of the hole and looked around. He saw the bodies of the two bounty hunters and rose to his feet.

"Is he Jared's father?" asked the Salacian tracker.

"He is," nodded Gunnar. "See what you can find on the bodies. I am afraid to let go of our friend for fear he will run again."

"If you are truly Jared's friends," the old man said, "you will just let me go."

"We do not plan to harm you," Gunnar said calmly, "but you will not be allowed to leave until you have answered some questions to my satisfaction. Who are you?"

"I will answer nothing," the old man said defiantly.

Kenra approached holding two pieces of paper he held them out so that only Gunnar could see them. One was the image of the Arin prince, and the other was an old drawing that looked quite similar to the old man they were holding prisoner. Gunnar nodded that he had seen the pictures and Kenra folded them up and put them in his pouch.

"There was little else on the bodies," the Salacian prince said.

"The men were bounty hunters," Gunnar replied. "I heard these two talking. They have been after this old man for years."

"I can believe that," nodded Kenra as he wiped the dirt off his clothes. "This old man is a tracker's nightmare. I have learned quite a few tricks today following his trail. I particularly like the rope in the tree at the top of the cliff. That is one that I will always remember."

"I was in a hurry," shrugged the old man, "or you would never have found me."

"These other men found you," Gunnar pointed out. "I followed their track, and they knew exactly where they were going. They split quite a ways back to be in position on both ends of your tunnel."

"I have done this for too many years," sighed the old man. "Good tricks should only be used once, not over and over again."

"I do not know what you have done, Zalman," Gunnar said, "but I can protect you if you are innocent."

"So you know who I am," sighed the old man. "Just kill me and be done with it. I am too tired to continue any longer."

"Don't you even care about Jared any more?" scowled Gunnar.

"How could I not care about my son?" snapped Zalman. "What kind of question is that? I love my son dearly, but I will not have him suffer because of me. He is far better off if I am dead. Why did you have to come looking for me and spoil his ignorance?"

"Let's take him back to the camp," suggested Kenra. "Maybe Jared can get him to talk."

"No," shouted Zalman. "Tell him that I am dead."

"I cannot lie to him," Gunnar shook his head.

"Then kill me and then tell him that I am dead," retorted Zalman. "I beg of you, do not destroy his life."

Gunnar and Kenra took Jared's father to where the Arin prince had left the horses. They sat in a small clearing away from the trail as the sky began to darken.

"I do not understand you," the Arin prince said to Jared's father. "What is it about your life that endangers Jared?"

"I am Zalman," sighed the old man. "Does that name mean nothing to you?"

"Nothing," shrugged Gunnar. "Is it supposed to?"

"It must," scowled Zalman. "You knew my name when you seized me. Why do you lie?"

"I did not know your name," Gunnar corrected the man. "It was on the poster my friend took off the bodies. Show him what you showed me, Kenra."

The Salacian prince retrieved the two drawings from his pouch and passed one to the old man. Zalman stared at it and nodded. He handed it back.

"I was mistaken," admitted Zalman. "What is the other drawing?"

"It doesn't matter right now," Gunnar shook his head.

"I would like to know who else they hunted," replied Zalman.

Kenra looked at Gunnar, and the Arin prince shook his head. Zalman watched everything with keen eyes and his lips pressed tightly together.

"I feel responsible for Jared," Gunnar continued after the distraction. "I need to know what trouble to be expecting. Why won't you simply explain to me what is going on? I already said that we would not harm you."

"I don't trust you," Zalman said sharply. "In fact, I don't trust anyone."

"Why don't you trust me?" Gunnar sighed in frustration. "We saved your life today."

"Yet you hide what is on the other poster?" retorted Zalman. "What is there to trust? I am used to people deceiving other people. I lived with it for my whole life. I am going to tell you nothing. Get that through your thick head. You have only two choices. Either kill me, or let me go. I really don't care which you do."

"I think he is crazy," commented Kenra. "I say we tie him up and find out what this reward is all about."

Zalman leaped to his feet and tried to race into the woods. Kenra had been expecting exactly that reaction, and he easily snared the old man. He dragged Zalman back to the clearing and sat him down on the ground.

"Now we know what he fears most," grinned Kenra.

"No," Gunnar shook his head. "As much as he fears being turned over to Borunda, there is something he fears even more."

Zalman had been glaring at the Salacian prince, but Gunnar's words caught his attention. He looked at Gunnar apprehensively.

"You fear having to confront Jared," declared Gunnar. "Don't you? You tricked your own son into thinking you were dead so he would leave, and he would no longer be a burden to you. The boy loves you dearly, Zalman. He speaks of you reverently whenever he speaks, and you fear having to look into his eyes after he finds out that you merely discarded him because he no longer pleased you."

"Stop it!" shouted Zalman. "You don't know what you are talking about. I would gladly die for that boy, and that is what I wanted to do. I sent him away so I could kill myself, but I could not find the courage to do it. Please," the old man whimpered, "don't torture me. Slay me, and do both of us a favor. Take my body to Borunda and claim your gold, but swear that you will never tell Jared that you found me. Promise me that."

Zalman started crying, and Gunnar felt terrible goading the old man, but he had to get Zalman to open up to him. He walked over to Zalman and sat beside him. He put his arm around the old man and comforted him. Zalman lifted his head and stared at Gunnar's face with confusion in his eyes.

"Who are you, and why are you doing this to me?" asked Zalman. "Have you no pity in your soul?"

"I am a wanted man much like yourself, Zalman," Gunnar replied softly, "and the pity I feel towards you now is so strong that it hurts me dearly, but I cannot spare your feelings any more than I can spare my own. The Land of the Nine Kingdoms is soon to be at war, and your son is going to be part of it. Don't ask me how I know this, because I am incapable of telling you. I do not mean that I refuse to; I am incapable. I don't know who Jared is, but I know that his life is important. There is a bond between him and me, a magical bond of some sort. I do not understand it any more than he does, but we will discover it together. What I seek from you is the knowledge that was denied to your son. He doesn't know who he is, and that lack of understanding may kill him."

Zalman's eyes grew wider and wider with each passing word. He stopped sniveling and wiped his eyes.

"You wield the Talent?" Zalman asked in a broken voice.

"No," Gunnar answered. "I am filled with the Talent, but its power is not for my use. I can find no one to explain what is happening to me; no one knows."

"That makes no sense to me," frowned Zalman. "One either has the Talent, or one does not."

"That is the way I always understood it," agreed the Arin prince, "but that is no longer true. I have spoken to wispers, and they have tried peering into my mind, but they do not understand what the Talent is doing within me. I cannot wield it."

"You either have the Talent or you do not," Zalman stubbornly replied. "There is no in between. The wispers that you have spoken to are poor in their knowledge because you are a lowly bandit from Capri. You must travel to one of the large cities and seek their help. They have wispers who understand the Talent."

"I have been to the greatest wispers in Anatar," answered the prince as he slipped on his ring and held his hand so that Zalman could inspect it. "None of them can tell me what the Talent is doing within me."

Zalman stared at the ring and shook his head. "You are a prince? You said that you are a wanted man before. Which am I to believe?"

"Both," replied Gunnar as he signaled Kenra to show Zalman the other poster. "My name will not be on the drawing because Borunda could not openly call for the death of a foreign prince, at least not yet. I am Prince Antion of Arin."

Zalman stared at the drawing closely and then examined Prince Antion's face. He nodded with recognition.

"Why are you not hidden behind the walls of Anatar?" asked Zalman. "Why is your nation not rising up to confront such treachery?"

"Arin is ill-equipped to defend against an attack from Borunda," explained the prince. "Perhaps in time, we will be ready, but we are not yet prepared. As for hiding in Anatar, many think that is exactly where I should be, but whatever is inside me is driving me in different directions. Right now, it is driving me to discover the truth about Jared. You must tell me all that you can, Zalman. I have told you secrets that could cost me my life. Even Jared and most of the group I travel with do not know that I am a prince. Certainly you must know that I am sincere by now. I must know why there is a bond between your son and me."

"How do you know there is a bond?" Zalman asked skeptically.

"I can feel it," answered Prince Antion. "Whenever we touch I can feel an energy pass between us. He can feel it too. What is it? What does it mean?"

"I don't know," sighed Zalman. "I truly don't know, but I now believe all that you have said. I never thought the Talent would cause troubles for Jared. In fact, I hoped that he would never discover the curse within him. I can see that was but the wishes of a fool."

"He told me that you called the Talent a curse," nodded Prince Antion, "and I feared that he would kill himself when he found out he had the Talent within him, but he used it the other night to save a man's life."

"He used it?" gasped Zalman.

"He used it," nodded Prince Antion. "There was an old merchant who traveled with us. Bandits in Goodland nearly beat him to death the other night. He crawled all night to our campsite. We thought for sure that he would die, but Jared healed him. I watched the wounds heal, and I was thankful that your son was alive to help."

"The Talent can do wonderful things," smiled Zalman. The old man's smile lasted for only a second, and a frown appeared to replace it. "More often it destroys than heals," he spat. "We would all be better off if the Talent never existed."

"Perhaps," nodded Prince Antion, "but that is not possible, is it? Be thankful that Jared is one who only wants to heal. If such power must exist, let it be in people like him."

"You don't know what you are saying," Zalman shook his head. "The Talent consumes people. It destroys them."

"The Talent is hereditary," interjected Kenra, "Is that not true?"

"It is," nodded Zalman. "The curse is passed down from one generation to the next."

"Do you have the Talent?" the Salacian prince asked.

"Me?" balked Zalman. "Of course not. That would just be one more reason to kill myself. I would never live with that inside me."

"Then your wife was a wisper?" asked the Arin prince.

Zalman's eyes clouded over, and his head drooped to his chest. For several minutes no one spoke. Eventually, Zalman composed himself and raised his head. He looked Prince Antion in the eye and nodded.

"My wife was a wisper," admitted Zalman. "She was also a princess. One night sixteen years ago, my sweet Orenda gave birth to two baby boys. It was a long night, and the boys were fussy, but neither of us minded. We were thrilled to have sons. We were all in bed together when Zinan got fussy. Sweet Orenda did not want to disturb Jared and me, so she took Zinan onto the beach to nurse him and quiet him down. Suddenly the whole front of the house burst into flames. I leaped out of bed and wrapped my first-born in my arms, but the roof collapsed around me. I could not get near the front door, and burning beams blocked my path to the back door."

Zalman started sobbing. The princes remained silent and let him compose himself.

"Like an angel she arrived," Zalman continued. "The back door of the house opened, and she stepped inside. I knew that she would use her power to save us, but then I noticed that Zinan was missing from her arms. My eyes swept past her, and I saw the witch standing on the beach holding my other son. She sent a wave of fire into the back of my beloved. I could see Orenda's skin peeling off her body, but there was nothing that I could do. Orenda knew that she was going to die, but she refused to let us die in there with her. She used the Talent to blast a hole in the side of the house so that Jared and I could escape. I ran," whimpered the old man. "I took Jared and ran away, and my sweet Orenda perished in my place. It should have been me that died that night, not my beloved Orenda."

Tears flooded down the old man's cheeks, and he pounded his fists against his legs. Gunnar wrapped his arms around Zalman as much to stop him from hurting himself as to comfort him. It took a long time for Zalman to calm down, and when he did, he appeared exhausted. Gunnar lowered Zalman's head to the ground, and Kenra covered him with a blanket. The two princes took turns guarding the makeshift camp until morning.

When the sun lightened the sky, Kenra built a fire and started a pot of tea. Zalman awoke and smelled the tea. He pushed the blanket aside and helped himself to a cup. He looked briefly around the campsite and saw Kenra and Gunnar watching him. He walked over and sat next to the Arin prince. Zalman appeared quite composed.

"Now you know all there is to know," the old man said. "What are you going to do with me?"

"Who was the witch?" asked Gunnar.

"Naveena," answered Zalman. "Naveena who ended up with my second son. Naveena who destroyed my wife and baby."

"But Zinan survived," Gunnar frowned in confusion.

"Aye," nodded Zalman, "he survived, but it would have been far better if he had not. I tried several times over the years to get the boy out of the palace in Tarent, but I was never able to. I watched as he turned into something so evil that Orenda would not have recognized him if she were still alive. He used the Talent to torture animals at first, and then people, but he was a prince, and he was allowed to do anything he wanted. Naveena saw to that. She trained him in the dark ways. He is no longer my son. The Talent has consumed him."

"And you fear that will happened to Jared?" asked Prince Antion.

"I do fear it," nodded Zalman. "I never truly understood the Talent, but Orenda was powerful in it. When we married, her brother, the king, was livid because I was beneath her station. He banned me from the palace in the hope that Orenda would abandon me, but we were in love. Instead, she left the palace, and we moved to Vineland. She worked as a lowly wisper in the small towns along the coast up there. The people could never afford to pay us, but we didn't care. That is where I saw the good side of the Talent. She used it every day to heal broken bones and deliver babies. I once commented on what a wonderful thing the Talent was, and that is when Orenda told me the truth."

"The truth?" question Prince Antion.

"Aye," nodded Zalman. "The Talent is a two-edged sword. You can use it a thousand times to do good, and it will have no effect on you, but use it just once for evil, and you become a changed person. I don't mean to say that you become an animal like Naveena from one bad use, but you do change. You change each and every time you use it for evil. You can never undo it. There is no going back. Do you understand what I am saying?"

"I am not sure," admitted the Arin prince. "If you use it for evil, can you still do good with it?"

"Up to a point," nodded Zalman, "up to a point. From what I understand, and this is only what I have heard mind you, you can continue to do good until you have done so much evil that it prohibits you from doing any more good. At least I think that is what Audric said."

"Who is Audric?' asked Prince Antion.

"Audric is a wise sage," answered Zalman. "When we first moved to Vineland, Orenda searched for a teacher so that she might learn the proper ways to use the Talent. Wispers usually learn from their parents who were also wispers, but Orenda did not have that option, so she sought one who would teach her. She found a wisper, but the woman said that Orenda's Talent was much too powerful for her to teach, so she sent us on to Audric."

"Does this Audric still live?" Prince Antion asked with interest.

"I do not know," answered Zalman. "I have not seen him in over sixteen years. He was a good deal older than I was at the time, but he was not ancient. He may still live. Why are you asking?"