The Children of the White Lions: Volume 02 - Prophecy (69 page)

At first, nobody said anything. The three strangers stared at them with as much interest as Rhohn had for them. After a few moments, the young woman lifted a hand and pointed to Rhohn.

“There. It’s coming from him.”

The diminutive man on the chestnut horse nodded and muttered, “I can feel it, too.” He glanced at the woman. “Be prepared.”

She nodded once as the little man began to dismount, grabbing his right leg with his hand and guiding it up and over the neck of his horse. He rolled on his stomach, grabbed a pair of black metal rings strapped to the saddle’s side, and slid to the ground. Once situated, he reached up to retrieve a stick hanging from a brass hook, turned to the young woman, and handed her the reins to his horse.

“Hold tightly, please.” He took a step away from her, stopped, and turned back. “To the weave
and
the horse.”

The woman nodded.

“Understood.”

A light, airy voice—barely audible—wafted from the figure in the back.

“Be careful. The kur-surus would very much like to be free.”

Rhohn was surprised. They knew the true name of the mongrel race.

The short man stared up at the young woman.

“Kenders?”

The girl—Kenders, apparently—said, “Don’t worry. I have him. He will not move.”

Looking back to Okollu, the little man nodded.

“Good.”

Using the stick as a cane, the small man hobbled forward, all the while staring at Okollu, still shrouded in his robe and cloak. He shook his head in quiet amazement as he neared the mongrel. “It hardly seems possible.” He stopped, turned around, and peered back to the other two strangers. “Could they be this far east already?”

Rhohn cocked his head, curious at the comment. He glanced over to Tiliah and found her staring at the man, her eyes slightly rounded.

Whispering in quiet wonder, she said, “I think that’s a tomble.”

Rhohn looked back to the small man hobbling closer to Okollu and muttered, “You must be jesting.” The description certainly fit, but a tomble’s place was in playmen’s tales.

The tomble stopped before Okollu, steadied himself, and then raised his walking stick to Okollu’s hood. With a flick of his wrist, he flipped back the covering to reveal Okollu’s teeth bared and frozen in a vicious sneer.

“Huh,” mumbled the tomble. “It
is
a mongrel.”

A deep growl abruptly rumbled forth from the Okollu statue, sending the tomble scurrying back a few quick steps. The strangers’ horses nickered, prancing in place as the young woman and skinny, shrouded figure worked to calm them.

Tiliah called out, “He doesn’t like to be called that!”

Everyone in the grove—save Okollu—turned to stare at her.

Keeping his voice low, Rhohn hissed, “Quiet!”

“
Don’t
tell me what to do,” said Tiliah. Digging her fingers from her free hand between his and her wrist, she pried herself free. “And don’t
ever
grab me like that again.”

Footsteps shuffling through the bed of needles drew their attention back to the strangers. The tomble was limping toward them now, taking a wide berth around Okollu.

Eyeing the little figure’s bent leg, Rhohn wondered if he could manage to grab the tomble when he got near, before the others could react. A sword to the throat was a wondrous bargaining position. The infant plan had barely danced through his mind when the hilt of his sword grew impossibly hot, feeling as if the metal under the leather grip had just emerged from a forge.

With a sharp yelp, he released the blade and watched it drop to the ground. Curls of white smoke rose from where the sword lay on the dry tree-needles. Rhohn shook his hand involuntarily a few times before lifting it to stare at lined, red welts matching the pattern on the hilt.

He turned an accusing glare toward the tomble and found the little man standing still and staring at the Dust Man blade smoldering on the ground. After a moment, the tomble turned around and looked back to his companions.

“Was that necessary?”

The hooded figure in the back replied, “I believe he was considering attacking you.”

As Rhohn stared at the shrouded man, wondering how he could possibly have deemed that, the blonde woman swiveled in her saddle to peer at the thin figure as well.

“I see,” said the tomble. Looking back to Rhohn, he added, “Don’t do that.” He resumed his approach, keeping his gaze on Rhohn the entire time. Stopping ten paces away, he leaned on his cane and asked, “So, who are you?” He gestured over his shoulder at Okollu. “And why are you with him?”

Rhohn was still considering how to respond when Tiliah spoke.

“You tell us who you are, first.”

The little man turned his attention to Tiliah, opened his mouth to respond, and froze. His eyes narrowed.

Tiliah demanded impatiently, “You’re mages, yes?”

The tomble shut his mouth and took two more shuffling steps forward, peering closely at Tiliah the entire time.

“I’m sure the Constables are on their way right now,” continued Tiliah. “If you were smart, you would get on your horses and ride away now!”

Rhohn admired her attempt at bluffing, yet sensed it would be a futile effort. The tomble seemed as rooted to the ground now as the pine trees around them.

Keeping his eyes focused on Tiliah’s face, the tomble twisted slightly and called over his shoulder, “Kenders? Come here, please.”

The blonde woman, presently staring at Okollu, pulled her attention from the mongrel.

“Why?”

The tomble shut his eyes and let out a long, weighty sigh.

“Please. I think you should come here.”

“What about the horses?”

“Forget the horses,” replied the tomble, opening his eyes to stare at Tiliah. “And just come here.” Sighing, he half-turned to look at the pair. “Khin, can you hold the mon—ah, the kur-surus for the time being?”

“If you would like,” answered the shrouded figure.

Kenders shrugged, glanced at Khin, and asked, “Ready?”

“I am.”

Okollu took half a stride before freezing in position again.

“Good,” muttered the tomble. “Now, come here, please. Quickly.” He looked back to Rhohn and Tiliah, focusing all of his attention on her.

The young woman dismounted and began to walk toward them. The cut of her riding clothes was foreign, unlike anything the citizens of the Borderlands or Marshlands wore. Whoever these strange mages were, they were far from home.

“You are either a Dust Man or you stole that from one,” said the tomble.

Rhohn looked back to find the little man staring at the sword lying in the needles.

“I am a—was a soldier before the Borderlands fell.”

The tomble raised an eyebrow, asking, “You are a Dust Man yet you travel with him?” He nodded back in the direction of Okollu.

Rhohn frowned.

“It is a long story.”

The crunching of needles drew his attention back to the young woman. Sunlight had crept into the grove, setting her unbound golden hair alight. Rhohn could not help but stare. He had never seen hair that color.

Kenders’ head remained twisted, her gaze firmly locked on Okollu until she stopped beside the tomble. Glancing down to him, she said, “First oligurts and razorfiends, and now an honest—” She looked up, cutting off the moment her gaze rested on Tiliah. An astonished gasp slipped from her lips and her eyes went round.

Curious, Rhohn turned to stare at his companion. The outlanders’ reactions appeared to confuse Tiliah as much as they confused him. A pair of deep furrows split her forehead.

A quiet, uncomfortable moment passed before the strange young woman spoke in a quiet whisper.

“Tiliah?”

As Rhohn turned to gape at the easterner, the young woman took a hesitant step closer. The shock on her face faded quickly, only to be replaced by an unusual combination of joy and sadness.

“Are you Tiliah Alsher?”

Rhohn’s eyes narrowed as he glared at the woman.

“Who are you people?”

Kenders glanced at him briefly, her gaze lingering on his scarred face a moment, before staring back to Tiliah.

“Is your name Tiliah Alsher? Sister to Zecus? Daughter of Joshmuel?”

Tiliah remained silent for a long moment before finally asking in a soft, uneasy tone, “How do you know me?” All of her earlier defiance was gone.

The tomble’s face fell. Closing his eyes, he dropped his head.

“Blast.”

Kenders’ shoulders slumped. A moment later, she stared to the north, peering out into the foggy morning.

“If I leave now, I might be able to catch him.”

The tomble shook his head.

“Too dangerous. There will be Constables in Demetus.”

“I don’t much care if there are, Tobias,” said Kenders. “I can handle them if need be.”

Shaking his head vigorously, the tomble—Tobias, apparently—said, “I know you can ‘handle them.’ That’s not the point. It is not a smart thing to do and you know it. Broedi might very well strangle me if I let you wander in there.”

The girl set her jaw.

“Broedi isn’t here.”

Tobias tilted his head back to glare up at her.

“Your heart has made some poor decisions to this point. I suggest letting your head guide you for a while. What say you?”

The young woman pressed her lips together and looked north again, her eyes bright and alive. Rhohn half expected her to go marching down the hill despite the tomble’s evident desire she remain. After a long moment, she glanced back down to the tomble and muttered, “They’re going to waste an entire day wandering around, Tobias.”

The tomble—Tobias, apparently—nodded.

“Most likely.”

He turned his gaze back to Tiliah.

“Although the day itself will not be a waste.”

Looking back to Tiliah as well, Kenders said, “But she can tell us where everyone else is.”

The shrouded figure on the black horse spoke, his light and airy voice drifting through the grove like a forgotten breeze.

“I doubt she will be able to do that.”

Kenders turned to stare back at Khin and asked, “How would you know?”

The figure moved slightly, his hood nodding in the direction of last night’s camp by the log.

“They have been traveling. I would assume she has not been to Demetus for some time.”

Kenders glanced at the gear resting beside the fallen log before looking back to Tiliah.

“Is that true?”

Tiliah remained stone-faced and quiet. Rhohn frowned. Seeing her silent and emotionless was like seeing the sun at night. It was unnatural.

When it was apparent Tiliah was not going to answer, Kenders glanced back to Tobias.

“So what do we do?”

“We wait until they return.”

“That won’t be until after sundown.”

Tobias peered up at her and asked, “Are you
so
absent of patience that you cannot wait one day?”

Kenders’ scowl deepened, yet she relented with a quiet, “Fine.” She looked back to Tiliah. “But do we tell her—”

“No!” interrupted Tobias quickly, glancing askance at Tiliah. “It is not your place to share.”

Kenders’ eyes widened a fraction.

”You want me to sit here all day and
not
tell her?”

Finding her voice, Tiliah asked worriedly, “Tell me what?”

Kenders faced them and said, “Tiliah, my name—”

Tobias held up a hand and said, “Hold a moment! You forget why we came up this hill in the first place. Before anything else, we find out what it is he—” he jabbed a finger at Rhohn “—is carrying and then…” He shifted his gaze to Tiliah. “…then you can tell her
some
things if you wish. Agreed?”

Kenders reluctantly pulled her gaze from Tiliah to stare at the pouch Rhohn had tucked in his belt. She nodded once.

“Agreed.”

“No!” protested Tiliah. “Not agreed!” The fierce determination with which Rhohn was familiar had returned. “Tell me who you are. And how in the Nine Hells you know my name!”

Pointing to Rhohn, Tobias said, “If you would first hand over—”

“No!” exclaimed Tiliah again, marching toward the pair. “What do you have to tell me?!”

Kenders stepped forward, reaching out with her hands as if she intended to comfort her.

“Tiliah, we are—”

“Stop that!” snapped Tiliah, glaring at the woman. “Stop using my name like you know me!”

Kenders pressed her lips together, a sorrow-laden smile touching the corners of her mouth.

“But I do know you. In a manner of speaking. I know about you, your mother, Jezra and Jerem.”

“How is it you know my family?”

“Zecus,” answered the woman quietly. “He’s told me all about them.”

Tiliah shook her head.

“Impossible. Zecus went west turns ago. And you are obviously an easterner.”

Kenders nodded along with Tiliah’s words, her eyes glistening with the early hints of tears.

Rhohn sighed, bracing himself. Today was not going to be a good day.

“All true,” murmured Kenders softly. “Gods, there is so much we need to share with you.”

Resting both hands on his walking stick, Tobias gently insisted, “This should wait, Kenders.”

Tiliah demanded, “When did you see him last? Zecus?”

“This morning,” answered Kenders. She nodded to the north. “He and Boah are in Demetus right now, looking for you.”

Rhohn’s eyes narrowed. He recognized the other man’s name from Tiliah’s tale about her father. Today was going to be a very bad day.

Disbelief coloring every word, Tiliah asked, “Zecus is with Boah? Boah Rasus?”

Kenders nodded once.

“Yes.”

“What…how is that—” She cut off. “No matter how.” Visibly buoyed by the information, she asked, “My father? Is he with them?”

Kenders’ expression was a turbulent mixture of despair, sorrow, and what appeared to be guilt. A person carrying good tidings would not appear so tortured. She shook her head, muttering, “No.” Her voice caught. “No, he’s not.”

Tiliah’s brief moment of joy fled thrice as fast as it had come. With her gaze darting between Tobias and Kenders, she asked, “Why not? Where is he?”

Kenders opened and closed her mouth twice before keeping it shut. She reached up to wipe tears from both cheeks. Tobias stood motionless, a melancholy scowl fixed on his face.