Second Stone (7 page)

CHAPTER TEN

In his tent—the biggest in the camp—Torian unrolled a large map. He was careful not to tear the worn edges, grown brittle over the years.

Garith peered over his shoulder, then pointed at the edge of the map, just where the Upper Fork of the river tumbled out of the heaviest mountains in the east. “Would they be up there?”

Pushing his curls off his forehead to get a better view, Torian weighed the possibility. “Could be.”

“It doesn’t look accessible.” Garith frowned.

“That may be part of what drew them there.” Torian pointed to the map. “See here, the river is the border between Sheas and Thalmas. Being easily discoverable would leave them extremely vulnerable.”

“Right, but—”

Torian held up his hand, silencing Garith before going back to the map. “As far as I know, it’s almost impossible to scale this bit of mountains. From the Sheas side, anyway. It isn’t easy, but it can be done from here, before you cross the river into Sheas.” His finger indicated a small gap between two peaks. It was sort of brilliant, now that he thought about it. “Who would come looking for them? Sheas, right?”

Garith’s brow furrowed as he studied the section. He let out his breath. “But no one would bother to check a part of Sheas only accessible through Thalmas.”

Garith’s quick wit impressed Torian. For one who had never been educated in the ways of nobility, Garith had grasped exactly what he was getting at very quickly. The prince had been turning an idea over and over in his mind. Now he was sure.

“So is that where I should head with Emariya, then, do you think?” Garith asked.

“No.”

Garith jerked his head up sharply.

“I need to take her myself. I owe it to her.” Torian hated how raw his voice sounded; he didn’t want to be viewed as weak. Nonetheless, the sentiment remained true.

“But what about the army? We’ll have an awful time trying to get our full force into the mountains. There just won’t be enough room, unless it’s larger than it looks on the map.”

Again, Garith’s perception impressed him. The boy possessed a sharp, analytical mind. “That’s why I want you to lead them south.” Torian waited, letting Garith process his offer.

Garith’s jaw dropped. “You want
me
to lead your army? Your Highness, I’m flattered, but I don’t know the first thing about leading
or
armies.”

“You’ll learn,” Torian said simply. “Will you do it?”

Slowly, Garith nodded. He swallowed hard and then said, “I won’t let you down.” The look of incredulous pride told Torian he had made a decision Emariya would be proud of.

“I know you won’t. Now, look. After I meet with the Roths, I should be able to go down here and filter into Sheas. The slope is sharp—too sharp to go in that way—but if we are cautious, we should be able to go down.”

“Maybe…” Garith didn’t sound convinced.

“If you bring the army and come up here,” Torian continued, indicating a large open space on the map between the Upper Fork of the river and the river proper, “you should have room to make a more durable camp. I don’t know how long it will take with the Roths. You’ll have to see to it that you can defend yourself if necessary. We’ll use it as a base camp as we venture onward toward Sheas Harbor once Emariya is ready.”

“All right. So stay there?” Garith asked.

“Yes. You should stay there until I return.” Torian rolled up the map, putting it away.

“Who will you be taking with you?”

“Just Emariya. The Roths have been in hiding for a long time, and the mountains will be unforgiving. Our best chance is to go alone.”

Garith looked like he wanted to say more, but Torian didn’t give him the opportunity. He needed to be on his way. He’d wasted far too much time before deciding on a course of action, but no more. Everyone had been remarkably patient while waiting for him to stop sulking and start acting like the prince he was. It was time for him to show he was still worthy of their faith in him.

Torian strode out of his tent, throwing his pack over his shoulder. Realizing he heard no footsteps behind him, he called over his shoulder to Garith, “You coming?”

Shaking his head as if to clear it of lingering disbelief, Garith hurried to catch up. If he were to have a hope of commanding the respect of the soldiers, he’d need to get over acting like he wasn’t fit to lead. They’d eat him alive. But he was Torian’s best hope; getting help for Emariya had to be his priority.

“Rink!” he called. Quick footsteps shuffled toward him. In the distance, he could see Leil still hanging around Emariya’s tent. Jessa was probably inside with her. A quick frown formed at the sight of Leil. Now he would be Garith’s problem.

“Yes, Your Highness?” Rink stood as straight and tall as his slim, boyish build would allow, excited for a duty.

“Tell Jessa to get Emariya ready, then ready my horse. Quick about it, now.”

The boy spun on his heel at a full out run. With that out of the way, Torian strode toward the gaggle of tents with Garith close behind him.

“Listen up,” he commanded.

All around, soldiers nearly fell over themselves, clambering to stand at proper attention. Throughout the camp, Torian’s order ricocheted through the men as the soldiers passed it along. The wave of bored inactivity fell aside as they stood under the careful eye of their prince.

He took a deep breath and held his sword high, drawing their silence. “When we set out, we were stronger in number. Now, we’ve had to split our focus for not one, but two threats!”

Torian saw a few nods, but more were regarding him warily. He continued, “Now, we are stronger in our dedication!” Quizzical looks passed back and forth between the soldiers as they puzzled at his words. “Our cause is no less desperate. Our swords are no less true. But now, each man must strive for more. And in that more will lay our increased strength.” A round of cheers rose from the men.

“I know you are without your commander—Plank has taken the other soldiers to meet with the rest of our forces in Eltar. I’ve an errand to attend to. Forces we do not yet understand have kept my bride from waking. We believe she fights for her very life.” Concerned murmurs floated among the soldiers. Until now, Torian had been very secretive regarding the cause of their delay.

“We think there is one nearby who can help her. I could never leave the task to another, so I will take her myself.” He saw the approval on most of their faces.

“In the meantime, our force needs to move south, cross into Sheas, and make ready. For as soon as I return to you, we will press forward. On to Sheas, where we will storm in and return Lord Warren to Eltar, unseat his scoundrel of a son, and rescue Princess Terin!”

At this, cheers erupted. He gave them a moment before gesturing for them to quiet again. “In my absence, you will be led by someone very dear to both Lady Warren and myself.” Torian gestured for Garith to step forward.

“Um, hello,” Garith gulped.

Trying not to second-guess himself, Torian left Garith with the men to oversee breaking camp and headed for Riya’s tent. Having a decision made added a lightness to his step. Knowing he was doing something to help Riya had given him the perspective to shrug off at least a little of the darkness that had been weighing him down through the days he’d suffered without seeing her eyes smiling back at him.

“Is she ready?” he asked, stepping into Riya’s tent.

“You’re leaving today, Your Highness?” Jessa’s tone was guarded. Torian couldn’t quite put his finger on what she was getting at.

“Yes.”

“Are you going with her, or sending Garith?” Jessa asked.

He put his hands on the redheaded girl’s shoulders. “I’m going with her. I won’t leave her side, I promise you. I intend to return her to you as good as new.” With what he hoped was a reassuring smile he looked Jessa straight in the eye. “Will you be all right staying with Garith and the troops? Riya would never forgive me if I let something happen to you.”

“I’ll be fine. I am so glad you are doing the right thing.” She looked like she wanted to hug him, but was afraid to, so Torian gave her a quick squeeze and then bent and scooped Emariya up into his arms. After days of nothing but spoon-fed tea, she was even lighter than he remembered. Her scent was different, too. Instead of her flowery, fresh air aroma, Torian could smell nothing but sweat. She was warm in his arms, likely beginning to fever. Time was not going to be on his side. His suspicions that she was slipping away from him deepened. “Just hold on,” he whispered into her hair.

Garith and Rink met him outside the little grouping of tents. Placing Emariya in Garith’s arms, he took his reins from the boy, mussed the child’s hair, and then mounted up. When he looked down at Rink, he noticed tears pooled in the boy’s glassy eyes. “It’ll be all right. They’ll help her. Don’t fret.”

Bravely, the boy nodded. Garith’s emotions weren’t much better contained than Rink’s. He whispered something Torian couldn’t hear into Emariya’s ear before lifting her up to Torian. “Bring her back, Torian.” That he used the prince’s name spoke volumes. Right then, they were not prince and commoner. They were nothing more than two men who loved the same girl, terrified of losing her.

With a curt nod, a little wave, and his jaw set with determination, Torian jabbed his heels into his stallion’s side and they were off. He would have to backtrack a little ways before he would find a path leading upward. It was late morning when he set out, and he hoped to be out of the valley before night fell. He kept one hand on his stallion’s reins while the other clutched Emariiya close to his chest. He cradled her head under his chin.

At first, they rode too hard and fast to allow him to talk much—he had to concentrate on keeping both of them balanced atop the powerful horse’s easy strides. As the day darkened, he allowed the horse to slow to an ambling walk, spotting the trail he was looking for ahead.

Without thinking about it, he started talking to her. “We found it, Riya,” he murmured. “Won’t be long now.” He debated stopping for the night or pressing on, and decided to continue until he could go no longer.

“I don’t know if you can hear me or not…Well, I hope you can. Anyway, I just need you to know how sorry I am. I know I’ve barely spent any time at your side since this whole thing happened. It’s not that I’m trying to excuse my behavior, but if I hadn’t shut out everything…” Torian sighed and tried again. “I needed to shut out my emotions so I could try and figure out what to do about both you and Terin. But regardless, I just hope you know how sorry I am, and hope you don’t think I’ve abandoned you.”

Torian both hoped she could and hoped she couldn’t hear him. His face was warm with the embarrassment of being so raw with her.

“I don’t know how I am supposed to fix this,” he whispered to her. “I am so afraid that in saving my sister I may alienate you. I know you love your brother. I don’t want it to come down to a choice between you hating me or not saving my sister.”

Long after the sun had set, Torian slid off his horse while keeping Emariya clutched in his arms. Dismounting while carrying someone else was no easy feat, and he didn’t at all look forward to having to remount without jostling her too much. He hobbled his horse and cleared a patch of snow to make a makeshift bed for Emariya. Doing all this while still holding her was cumbersome, but he couldn’t bring himself to just set her down in the snow. He spread out a blanket for the two of them to share and got her settled as gently as he could.

With his hands free at last, he built a small fire and lay down beside Emariya. Surrounded in the warmth of both her budding fever and the fire, he should have been asleep instantly.

Unfortunately, worry for the girl beside him kept slumber at bay.

––––––––

No matter which way he cast his gaze, the only way he could see to travel was back down the way he had come. The day had started off well. Remounting his horse while carrying Emariya was definitely not an elegant maneuver, but it hadn’t been as difficult as he’d anticipated, either. He’d slung her over his shoulder, gripping her firmly by the waist while stepping into his stirrup. He’d managed to avoid jostling her or dropping her, a small victory at the very least.

But after the promising start, the day only went downhill. By his calculations, he should be standing nearly on top of the trail to the Roths’ hideaway. Cradled against his chest, Emariya’s fever was radiating more and more warmth. He had to find them soon. He didn’t know if she had much time left. Oh, by The Three, if she left him, he couldn’t bear it.

Where was the trail?

Trying to calm his rising panic, Torian turned his horse back the way he’d come. Maybe he had missed the entrance. Of one thing, he was sure: he couldn’t go any farther up, and his spirits couldn’t go much further down.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Leading was for the birds. Right about now, Garith would give anything to be back in his father’s shop. How did Emariya and Torian do this all the time? Having so many people looking to him for every little thing was positively exhausting. That was without even counting his worry over whether the decisions he made were the right ones or not. Definitely for the birds.

Still, Torian had entrusted him with an enormous responsibility. Opportunities like this were few and far between for those not born to it. He almost had to laugh. If he were home in Eltar, an appointment to command an army would have allowed him the status to be able to marry someone Council-born. Well, anyone Council-born other than the only one he’d ever paid any attention to. Especially not now that she was a princess.

Emariya also wasn’t the only princess playing repeatedly through his mind. In their short stay at Castle Ahlen, he’d grown fond of Terin. She reminded him a lot of Emariya. She’d shown him around the grounds and the stables and he had generally enjoyed her company. He entirely understood Torian’s fury over her capture, but Emariya would always come first for Garith. He would make sure Torian did right by her.

Garith looked around Torian’s tent. He’d needed the space for meeting with the higher-ranking members of the army. He’d sent Rink to retrieve them a few minutes ago. Once they arrived, it would be time to test how well they could follow his orders. Right on cue, the flap of the tent swung open and three men he only vaguely knew strode in with Leil trailing behind them.

“Gentleman, how are the tents coming?” They’d arrived at the Meravian Embankment the night before after crossing the river for the first—and, he wished, only—time. Unfortunately, once Torian rejoined them, they had another river branch to cross. At least then he wouldn’t be the one trying to coordinate moving men and horses across a frozen river.

“Well, Commander. We’ve most of the sleeping tents built, as well as a mess tent. We’ve dug fire pits, too. Just as you instructed.”

“Good. I want three scouts sent. Send one south, one east, and one behind us to make sure we aren’t being trailed. I want to know if Sheas Harbor knows we are coming. Leil, you’re to ride between the southern and the eastern scouts and us. Should it be needed, you can help chain information. Can you do that?” All four men nodded. At least it would get Leil out of camp and out of Garith’s hair. Having him hanging about camp kept Garith on edge.

Their instructions accepted, the men bid him farewell and made haste to carry them out. Garith allowed himself a moment of satisfaction at their easy acceptance of his plan. As they were slipping out of the tent, Jessa slipped in carrying a plate a food. One of the soldiers had slain a boar the evening before and its greasy aroma wafted from the plate, enticing a rumble of approval from his stomach.

“How are you holding up?” Her red hair shone copper in the candlelight as she set the plate before him.

Garith growled deep in his throat. “Probably feeling about how you did when I left you alone with Rink in the wilderness to chase after Emariya.” He looked away.

Jessa rested a hand on his shoulder. “I survived. So will you.”

“I suppose you’re right. When did you get so wise?”

“Um…probably when you left me alone in the wilderness.” Jessa smirked as she let her hand drop free, moving beside him to see what he was looking at. Her fingers traced carefully along the map, lingering near Warren’s Rest. Was Jessa as homesick as he was?
Probably more
, he told himself. As overwhelming as his new duties were, he’d become freer and more alive than he’d ever been at Warren’s Rest.

“Thanks,” he said quietly. She’d cheered him up without him even realizing what she was doing. “I just don’t want to let Torian and Riya down.”

“You won’t. Torian wouldn’t have left you in charge if he didn’t think you could handle it.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that. With Terin gone and Emariya unable to wake, Torian has been pretty preoccupied.”

“Then it’s even better that he has you to watch his back and help out.” The smile she beamed at him was so innocent and trusting, much like Riya’s used to be. But that was before Riya’s spirits darkened under the cloak of her brother’s betrayal.

“What do I know about leading? I’m the son of a blacksmith. I couldn’t even bear the conditions with the troops at the fjord, and now I am leading a royal army?”

Jessa’s smile faltered at the mention of the fjord. “Do you think they are holding up all right there?”

At first, Garith wouldn’t meet her eyes. He focused on the tent wall opposite her. “I hope so,” he whispered. He’d tried not to let himself give in to the guilt that threatened to overtake him for abandoning the men at the fjord. He tried to tell himself that one more body wouldn’t have made a difference. He couldn’t talk to Jessa about that, though. She would probably scold him for disobeying his orders.

“You think they are still safe at Warren’s Rest? Mama…and your father?”

“I have to believe so. And once we get to Sheas, we’ll do what we can from this side to keep there from being a battle at all. We’ll help them. Somehow.” Garith gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white as he tried to drive out thoughts of what might happen if they couldn’t stop it in time.

“That would be good. I hope there isn’t any fighting at all. At Sheas Harbor or at the fjord, I mean.”

––––––––

Hopelessness seeped through him, hastened by the persistent warmth radiating from Emariya’s still form clasped against his chest. Torian had worked his way a bit back down the trail, but so far he couldn’t see anything he’d missed the first time through.

The stallion beneath him slowed, snorting as his nostrils flared. “Come on, let’s go.” Torian nudged the horse with his heel. Shaking his head, the horse backed up. “Come on!” Torian repeated again. He didn’t have time for this; if he didn’t find help for Emariya, it would soon be too late—if it wasn’t already. Despair welled in his chest. He couldn’t lose her!

He looked down at her, clutched tightly in his arms, yet not safe at all. How could he protect her if he didn’t know what he was fighting against?

A tiny breeze rustled the leaves of the brush near the big horse’s black feathered hooves. As the leaves moved aside, Torian caught a glimpse of empty space behind them. He loosed his reins to give the horse his head. Maybe the horse knew more than he did. Besides, what options did he have, really? Stepping cautiously, the horse moved through one foot at a time until he’d passed the thickest of the brush.

Torian’s jaw dropped. By The Three, the horse had found the path. Torian leaned forward and patted the horse’s muscular neck. He shifted Emariya more comfortably up in his arms and then urged the horse on.

It didn’t take much encouragement, and soon they came to a sharp bend in the trail. As soon as they were around the other side, the horse came to an uneasy halt.

Just ahead, nestled in between timeworn rocks, the little house looked entirely out of place, almost as if it had been slapped down in a random location and the surrounding landscape had not had a chance to adjust to the presence of life. That couldn’t be the case, of course. The wooden board walls were old and worn. There were no footpaths leading to or from the house to betray frequent comings and goings, no livestock, and no well. The only sign of life was the curl of smoke floating in lazy twirls out of the chimney.

Torian sucked in a deep breath. An aged man stood directly in front of him. A hard look in the man’s eye said he’d not seen many strangers lately and didn’t want to see one now, either. The old man looked Torian up and down, his eyes pausing for only the briefest moment on Emariya before meeting Torian’s unfaltering gaze.

Though Torian had never seen the man before, he would have known him anywhere for what he was. A Roth. His piercing blue eyes could have been twins to Emariya’s own. At that very moment, those blue eyes were flashing at him to turn around and go back the way he’d come. Torian had no intention of doing any such thing.

“Please…help her,” Torian begged, the words sounding foreign to his own ears. He could count on one hand the number of times he’d had to ask for help in his short, royal life, but this might be the first time he’d ever come to someone as a beggar. He ignored the inner protest of his pride. If begging were what it took to save Emariya, he’d do it readily.

The man shook his head. “There’s no help for you. Be on your way.” His tired, almost pleasant voice didn’t match his rough stance.

Taking in the man’s appearance, Torian didn’t think there was any way he could possibly not recognize Emariya as his own blood. The man’s eyes were not the only shared feature. Though his hair had gone gray, likely many years past, it curled in that same unruly way.

“I can pay,” Torian offered, his voice cracking. “Anything—just please help her.”

“Didn’t you hear what I said? Go on, get out of here!” The man crossed his arms and waited.

“But she’s your—”

Torian was cut off by a woman rushing out of the little house, brushing past the man to clasp Torian’s hand in her own. “He knows who she is and so do I. You’ve brought my granddaughter.” Tears pooled in the woman’s hazel eyes. Tossing back her waist-length hair, the woman flashed the man a look that would have motivated The Three themselves. “Quit standing there and get her inside.”

With a resigned sigh, the man stepped forward and took the reins as Torian dismounted. Torian heard the man’s breath hitch as he got his first good look at Emariya. The blood drained from his face.

“Oh…” The woman swallowed. “It is almost as if my Valencia’s come home again.” She held out her arms. “May I?”

Torian was loath to let go of Emariya, afraid he might never hold her again. She had seemed for several hours now as if any breath might be her last. But this was why he’d come here. He had no time to waste by not trusting these people. They would help her or no one would.

Nodding ever so slightly, he placed Emariya in her grandmother’s arms. He tried not to dwell on the fact that she’d grown so frail that an old woman could carry her without much trouble. Though, Lady Roth looked like her solid frame was accustomed to hard work. The years had not been kind to the Roths, but they’d still aged well, and a regal bearing remained evident under calloused hands, weathered wrinkles, and wise eyes.

The man watched his wife carry Emariya into the house before he spoke. “We’ve a tiny stable out back.”

Gratefully, Torian followed the man behind the house.

The old man ran a hand across his wide brow. “You’ll have to forgive me. My wife, Alara, she gets herself real wound up sometimes over missing the children. She feels like we failed. I just wanted to spare her.”

“I understand.” Torian smiled encouragingly. “I’d do the same for Riya. I’d give anything to protect her, but this…this… I just don’t know how to help her.”

The man nodded sympathetically. “I suppose I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Kahl Roth. And you are?”

“Torian Ahlen.”

Kahl raised an eyebrow. “Ahlen, as in the royal Ahlens of Thalmas?”

“I’m afraid so,” Torian said, instantly alert. He had no idea how the Roths would feel about binding the lines and the Stones. They might let Emariya die just to keep them apart. All he did know was that she would die without their help. What choice did he have?

After they’d settled the horse in the tiny stable, they headed for the house. Torian wasn’t sure what to expect when he stepped into their little home. Being a prince, he’d spent most of his life in relative luxury. The Roth’s entire home could have fit inside Torian’s personal quarters. How the mighty had fallen.

Torian had never been to Sheas Harbor, but he could imagine it was extravagant. It must have been quite the change to try and accustom themselves to their exile.

The home was but one room, with wooden walls that looked as if one good gust might topple it over. The simple plank floor was swept immaculately clean. A rough clay fireplace dominated the center of the room spreading its warmth and pungent smell throughout. A meager table was pushed against the only window in the room, surrounded by four sturdy wooden chairs. On the opposite side of the room from the table, Emariya lay upon the pallet bed. Her cheeks burned with a crimson flush, the rest of her skin cast in an eerie pallor.

“Alara, this is Torian
Ahlen
,” Kahl said as his wife looked up from her spot on the floor near Emariya’s head.

Alara’s eyes grew wide. “Your Highness.” As she tipped her head forward, her long, graying hair brushed the ground. Torian thought she must have been beautiful in her day, not that she wasn’t pleasant to look at now. Suddenly an image of himself and Emariya, gray and wrinkled, flashed through his head. He could only pray that was what The Three held in store for them.

“Torian, please. I hope I am among friends here.”

A tiny smile played at the corners of Alara’s mouth, much as he’d seen on Emariya’s own face countless times. The similarities between his bride-to-be and these two people were downright disconcerting.

“Torian, then. Are you hungry?” Alara asked.

“I’m fine, My Lady. Please, can you help Riya?”

“So is that what she’s called, then? Riya?”

Torian blushed and wondered when he’d started using the nickname that Garith and the rest of her friends often used for her. “By those close to her. Her name is Emariya.”

“Emariya.” Alara sort of played with it on her tongue and then smiled. “Well, if we’re to help her, we need to know what happened. I think you’d best start at the beginning.”

Oh, by The Three, what was the beginning? Was it their trip to Sheas, or was it when her brother had written to him, offering her hand in exchange for an alliance? Unsure what might or might not be important, he started at the very beginning. As quick as he could, he told them briefly of her adventurous trip from Eltar to Castle Ahlen, their plans to marry, and the fire Khane had started.

When Torian began his tale, Kahl settled himself at the little table. At the mention of Khane, he asked Torian to explain.