The Farthest Gate (The White Rose Book 1) (20 page)

I gave the chamber a final examination to be sure nothing important was left behind.  As I finished, Amberyn returned.  He paused, lifted an eyebrow at his saddled mount, and checked the cinching to ensure I had done the job properly.  I could not fault him for this when his life might soon hang in the balance.  I would have done the same.  Satisfied, he crossed over to me and reported.

“There is no sign Dar’kyn have lingered.  Wait here with your son while Ty’hrall feeds.  He will serve us better with something in his stomach.  Besides, I should renew my supply of water since a stream lies nearby.”

Amberyn led Ty’hrall outside.

I checked my son.  He seemed healthy though senseless.  I lovingly brushed his golden hair from his eyes.  He was so young, so vulnerable looking—I felt a pang of grief that he was reduced so.  After a few minutes, I grew restless and pressed through the brush to the outer world.  The unicorn was nearby, tearing at grass, chewing with single-minded devotion.  I strolled over and patted his well-muscled hide with affection.  My mind turned to the image I must make in my borrowed clothes, hunting horn on one hip, the dagger on the other.  I always felt safer passing as a man from a distance.  I located the silver wolf mask and a strange fancy came over me.  I donned the mask and faced Ty’hrall.

“What do you think?” I asked.

He paused, grass poking out of one side of his mouth, and rolled his eyes in mock-terror.  His thoughts cut across my mind. 
Oh, alas, I am your meat, dread stalker of the woods.  I pray, turn your fearsome countenance from me lest I perish!
  With that said, he went back to chewing with unabated delight.  I could have sworn I heard an echo of laughter in my mind as well.

“Seriously,” I said.

He failed to answer, which I took as a request not to distract him from the business of eating.

I tensed as Ty’hrall’s head came up, ears cocked, neck swinging quickly side to side so his eyes could scan the terrain.  Something was very wrong.

Quickly, climb on
, Ty’hrall commanded.

Before I could move, a weighted net swept in from the side to tangle me.  Fully entrapped, I crashed heavily to the ground, but avoided real injury.  I fought to my knees, wanting to see the source of the danger.  Now that it was present, and not approaching, my heart grew calm, as if this were but another practice session with my father.

Focused mainly on slashing free, I drew my dagger, but spared Ty’hrall a glance.  Though ensnared, he kept his feet, heaving about in an attempt to free himself.  Where the net strands touched his golden spiral horn, the fibers ignited, bursting apart.

Shrieks of bloodlust burst out.  Thick-browed warriors surrounded us.  Their black eyes, burning with hate, and their pale bloodless faces gave the warriors a common stamp.  Their iron weapons identified them as
Dar’kyn.

Things were bad indeed, but I was grateful that Phillip and Amberyn weren’t endangered. 
I only had to be concerned with the unicorn and myself.  Ty’hrall’s greater resistance drew the majority of the attackers.  Sadly, I could do nothing to help him, having my own enemies to deal with.  Before I could entirely cut myself clear, the netting on me was jerked.  I fell over and the dagger was jarred from my hand.  The blade lay just out of reach.  No!  I needed that knife.  My son was counting on me to finish what I had started.

A
Dar’kyn different from the others stood over me with a staff in his hands that was topped by a black glass orb.  His lips were stretched wide in satisfaction, until his gaze settled on the ring on my hand.  His eyes bulged with astonishment.  The symbol of the White Rose seemed to hold profound meaning for him.

He called out a command and those lunging in to finish me off pulled back, sparing my life.  This
Dar’kyn had to be the sorcerer that led the band.  He set his staff down, kneeling to seize the netting and pull it away from me.  I mistrusted the sudden helpfulness, having no understanding of it.

Careful not to make any threatening gesture toward me, the
Dar’kyn sorcerer stared at the wolf mask I wore.  “Remove the mask!” he said.  “I would see if the beauty of the White Rose surpasses all others, as the stories say.”

I did as he asked, playing for time.  Amberyn wasn’t far.  He could even now be watching all this from nearby concealment.  I trusted that he would do all he could for Ty’hrall and me, and failing that—see my son to safety.

Meanwhile, I would see if I could work my way into the sorcerer’s good graces.

I leaned my face forward and the mask fell into my waiting hand.  I lifted my head, and met the sorcerer’s interested gaze with the cold indifference of the truly powerful.  My hope was that he might mistake me for someone out of the vault of time and the mists of legend.  The higher my value, the better I was likely to be treated.  And if they respected me, they might very well spare the unicorn on my behalf.

“Well?”  I shook out my white mane.  “Are you disappointed?”  My voice was strong and carried easily, ending in a teasing lilt.

His breath hissed out slowly.  His stare intensified.  “The tales I have heard do you no justice.  Yours
is
a beauty that cleaves the very heart of Darkness!  Death’s loss is our gain.”  He sounded smug, and like he meant to keep me.

“I am on a grave mission,” I said.  “I would be most grateful if you allowed me continue on my way.”

His brutish features twisted into an expression of regret, but I did not trust his sincerity for a moment.  “My master will want to see you.  You may ask him for your freedom.  It would be worth my life to go back and have it known what prize slipped through my hands.”

“Then grant me one favor,” I asked.  “Free my companion and allow him to go his way unharmed.”

“You ask much of me,” the sorcerer said.  “Such beasts are rare, and their horns have many uses.”

“Never-the-less, you will do this for me.”  I made it more statement than question, giving him a potent stare.  Unfortunately, I had no way to deliver on the threat I implied.
              In a show of graciousness I did not expect, he bowed to me.  “Very well, it will be as you ask.”

I hoped he spoke the truth, being capable of more than deceit.  Regardless, it was all I could do for Ty’hrall at the moment—unless one of the warriors became careless and gave me an opportunity to act.

“I am Bauku,” the sorcerer said, “A Voice of Darkness.  You have nothing to fear.  A very great honor shall be bestowed upon you.  No Dar’kyn warrior will harm you, or what is yours.”  He gathered up his orb-headed staff, stood, and offered me a hand up.

I let him assist me, having taken his measure as one who cherished playing the role of protector when it suited him.

Ty’hrall’s mystic fire burned away the last of net, but the iron weapons of the Dar’kyn kept him back.

I caught the unicorn’s furious gaze.  “Go!”  I concentrating on a thought that I hoped he could pluck from my head. 
Save yourself so you can save me later.  Go find Amberyn!

He tossed his head in a fierce gesture of ascent, wheeled, and burst away with flying hooves.  Knowing his heart, I knew that he would have fought to the death for me and was only leaving because I had asked it of him, and it was my best chance.

The rest of the Dar’kyn crowded around me, pawing at my person seeking weapons, feeling the texture of my hair, until Bauku irritably waved them off.  He offered me an apologetic smile as he took my arm, and guided me along the bluff toward the stream’s end.  I took note of the passing landscape wondering where Amberyn was.  I imagined he was aware of my fate and bided his time, waiting for the best moment to strike.  Surely, he was not lingering at the stream this long.

Curious about my fate, I questioned Bauku.  “What is this great honor you mentioned?”

He turned his face to me.  “You have been Death’s bride.  Now, Avalon’s Darkness will take you, and you will be queen to us all.”

10. MACHINATIONS

Crowded by my escort, I was led to the pool formed by the stream’s plunge into the earth.  The Dar’kyn sorcerer bid me enter the water with him.  I did, and gasped from the horrid cold, shivering as the liquid closed about my feet, then my calves.  My teeth were close to chattering.  Strangely, the warriors seemed to enjoy the bath, as though they had no warmth to lose.

Half-dragged to the center,
the water rose to my waist.  The warriors formed a tight ring around me, waiting.

Seeing my bewilderment, Bauku explained.
  “We need to go deep into the earth, where this pool drains, but we cannot follow its natural course to get there.”

“Is standing here going to get us there some other way?”

“Certainly, for we are above a buried place of power.  I can use the energy stored below to open a portal.  We will go from here to there in a moment.  I just have to build a strong enough image of our destination in my mind.”

“And if you imagine it poorly?” I asked.

The look he gave me did not augur well for peace of mind.  I held my peace and let the sorcerer concentrate on the task, even though his success would take me out of range of rescue.

I heard the rapid beat of hooves and knew that Amberyn had committed himself to a lightning charge.  Perhaps he considered plucking me from danger as practice for rescuing his wife.  Unfortunately, his timing needed work—Bauku lifted his staff and the obsidian orb on it exploded with a blackness that radiated as though it were light.  A shell of darkness expanded to engulf those in the pool.  Icy knives dug into my chest.  I hugged my mask against my body, blind and helplessness.  From what seemed an impossible distance, I heard Amberyn’s war cry cut off with startling abruptness.

Then a flume poured down on my head, drenching me.  The surrounding water only rose to my knees, running swiftly away.  I occupied a pool in a sprawling cavern where towering deposits of clear quartz glowed, as though feeding on the murk.

I slipped my mask into the pouch they’d let me keep, so I could clamber over a lip of rock.  Beyond, I huddled miserably by a starburst cluster of midnight-blue crystals.  I trembled with reaction.  My stomach knotted, complaining vehemently at the transition just past.

Bauku squatted by me.  “You get used to it after a while.”  He grinned suddenly.  “So, you were not alone.  I knew a mage lurked about.  Maybe I should go back and test his skill.”

“Maybe you should.”  I showed him a face carved from stone with deadly earnest eyes, and hoped that my confi
dence in Amberyn might prevent such a contest.

“Hmmmm, another time,” Bauku said.  “We should not keep our master waiting.”

“Heavens, no!” I answered with all the insincerity I could muster, hating the feel of damp, clinging cloth on my body.

Bauku helped me up, and eyed my borrowed clothing with amusement, and my figure with open appreciation.

“Are you indulging impure thoughts?” I asked.

“Why, no,” he portrayed wide-eyed innocence.  “That would be wrong!”

“Mind your manners.  If I am to be queen, my indignation could well prove fatal to you later.”  I added a small smile to remove the sting from my rebuke.  Though ill-at-ease with my captors, I did not want to show it.  One of the first lessons my father ever taught me—while wrapping my tiny fingers around the hilt of a practice sword—was that appearing brave goes a long way to being brave.  Also, I was not entirely displeased with the sorcerer’s interest; it afforded an opportunity to create an advantage.

As we progressed through a blue-crystal grotto
—where our steps echoed over and over—the warriors relaxed and grew careless in their watch over me.  They obviously did not credit that an attack could reach them here.  With what might be miles of rock overhead, I tended to agree.  While waiting for Amberyn, I needed to cling to patience.  True, Phillippe needed me, but the Dar’kyn knew these underground caverns very well.  I doubted I could effectively hide from them, especially if I needed to move about to find provisions.  A better plan was to bide my time until I could steal a sword, and put it point first at the throat of this lord they served.  If I could put him under my thumb, the others would fall in line.

Of course, that “if” was huge; anyone able to climb to the top of this savage tribe would not be easily handled.

We lost the sound of running water as the grotto gave way to a field of moss-softened boulders.  We wove around the obstacles without losing the light of crystal deposits that were blue, white and sometimes red.  Their arrangement had to be more than a matter of chance.  We rounded the base of a slope.  A new vista opened, a subterranean canyon brushed with pale gray light from a ragged fissure high in the upper crust. 

Wan shafts pointed the way to an iron suspension bridge that spanned an aw
ful gulf. God, no!  My heart began to pound.  I had no head for heights, especially after the Bridge-Between-Worlds.  I could have faced an army with sword in hand, but not a bridge such as this.  If I looked anywhere but down…no, it was impossible!