The Protector of Esparia (The Annals of Esparia Book 1) (11 page)

She locked her knees, then nodded.

Letting go of her arm, he stepped toward the backside of the waterfall.  “Wait for me,” he ordered, then disappeared through the cascading wall.

She knew that voice.

Her energy gone, she sank to the stone floor.  It was a long time before Jessica could move.  Varnack?  He lay several feet further in, his back to her.  She crawled beside him and inspected the makeshift bandage on his thigh.  No blood stained it.  Well, that was either good, or bad.  She was unsure which.  Not knowing what to do, she left the leg alone, hoping for the best.  Gently she stroked Varnack’s head.  His eyes were closed, his breathing shallow. 

“Please don’t die, Varnack,” she whispered.

Light filtered into the cave through the watery curtain.  Jessica was surprised at the soothing effect of the falling droplets.  Scanning her surroundings as far as the light would allow she found the high-ceilinged cave completely empty.  Carved from solid stone, it scooped back into the cliff.    Fifteen feet at the widest point and about twenty feet wide, the expanse felt damp and cool, but it was free of dirt, bugs and spider webbing.  There was a triangular opening off to one side near the back.

“Incredible.”  She slid closer to Varnack, placed her arm around his neck and held him close.  Both of them were soaking wet, but she hoped their combined body heat would help him warm up.  The exhausting day finally crept to a close.

A crackling fire and the smell of cooking meat awakened Jessica.  A warm, woolen-like blanket covered both her and Varnack.  Sliding her arm off the animal’s neck, she rolled out from under the grayish blanket, then tenderly tucked it in around his back.

“Was wonderin’ when you’d wake up,” a deep, pleasant voice came from behind.  She let out a yelp and spun around.  A smokeless fire with a spit of roasting fowl positioned over it was being tended by the large man.  The flames gave out the only light in the cave, as the waterfall was now a curtain of black, shielding them from the outside world.

“Anton?” 

The man’s bushy eyebrows shot up.

“I don’t think you’d believe me.”  She held up her hand to stop the questions from being asked.  She walked closer to the fire, then sat with her legs crossed under her.

“Ya look a lot like yer Grandma.”  Anton pulled the roasting bird off the skewer.  He ripped a piece of meat and handed it to her.  She did not realize how hungry she was until she took the first bite.  The smoky flavor elicited little sighs of satisfaction and she thought the bird tasted remarkably like turkey.

“My Dad says I look like my mom.  You came just in the nick of time.”  She glanced over at Varnack.  His breathing was now deep and regular.

“We knew ya were in danger, so I came fast as I could.”  His voice seemed too big for the size of the cave, yet it harmonized well with the rumble of the free-falling water.

“We?” she asked.

“Me ‘n my brother.”

“Larone?”

This time his eyebrows really shot up.

“So who shot at us?”  Jessica asked.  “I thought my coming was supposed to be a secret?” 

“It was!  Some doogeroot betrayed us.  We don’t know who yet, but we’re workin’ on it.”

“Why shoot at me though.  They’re looking for a woman, right?  Like my mom.”

He shrugged his shoulders.  “Varnack’s a dead giveaway that yer someone important.  Maybe they’ve smartened up and figure yer a girl.  Elitet are after ya.”

Jessica shivered. “Who are they?”

“Daenon’s Elite Shield, glorified name for a killer squad.”

“Do they dress all in black, except one with a red belt?”

“Yeah.”  Now Anton sounded as shocked as he looked.  “Ya know an awful lot for just gettin’ here.”

“Actually, I’ve been here a couple of days.”  Jessica related all that happened after being spit out by the black spiral, her walk with Varnack and the battle at Vorgen Hoffle, everything except the healing episode.  That still mystified her, scared her, and without knowing her new found uncle better, she did not feel comfortable in sharing this spiritual experience with him.

“So the Elitet are trying to kill me.”

“No, if they wanted ya dead, ya would be.  They don’t miss.  Most likely, they were tryin’ to kill Varnack.  They want ya alive, capture ya.  Yer swimmin’ behind him stopped ‘em from finishin’ him off.  I saw the whole thing up the mountain.  Couldn’t get down fast enough to warn ya though.  Now how’s about ya tell me just how ya know who I am.”

Jessica reached for the cup of water Anton offered her, then told him about her mist dreams, all of them. 

While he listened he never took his eyes from her face and when she finished he said so softly, so angrily, it made the hairs stand up on the back of her neck, “So there is a traitor at Ramadine”.

“I don’t know who he is, but there’s definitely a spy.  Varnack told me Graesion was my grandfather.”  Anton shot a quick look at Varnack. “It doesn’t take a mastermind to figure out the genealogy after that.  You’re my blood relative.  I have none on Earth, besides Dad and Grandma.”

Jessica finished eating.  She searched for something to wipe her greasy hands on and finally settled for the front of her pants.  “Varnack also told me this is Esparia, but he doesn’t elaborate much, so my information is still pretty sketchy.  Could you tell me about this place, this world, Uncle Anton?”

At the word ‘uncle’, Anton flinched.  He stared at Jessica, his face placid, but his eyes filled with wonder.  His muscles tensed, his mouth opened as if to speak, then closed again, the words unuttered.  He averted his eyes and for many minutes stared into the fire.  She sensed an inner struggle raging inside him. 

What did she say to cause this reaction?

At last he looked up from the fire, cleared his throat, and spoke about Edia.  He explained its location compared to Earth, using Edian astrophysical terms she had never heard before.  It soon became apparent to her his everyday speech belied his true genius.  He told her of Esparia, its history, the different peoples and the lay of the land.  He explained about the Protectors, how they ruled in peace for centuries.  Finally, he told her about her family, about Graesion and his son Haesom, then Segal and his son, Daenon.

“Last of all are me, ‘n my brother, Larone.  He’s a great healer while I like playin’ with magical sciences.  I don’t like people much though,” he shrugged.  “Lived most my life wanderin’ all over Esparia.  I don’t think there’s one place I haven’t seen, except the Deserts of Demar.  No one in his right mind goes there,” here he paused, then gave a little snort, “maybe that’s why Segal managed so well there.  He was always a little touched. Ya probably noticed I don’t talk too good.  I haven’t had much use for speakin’, pretty much a loner, so I’m not real used to it ‘n I don’t much care.  Fact is, this is more talkin’ I’ve done tonight than in the last five years pulled together.”

Varnack moaned, then gave a little cough.  Jessica and Anton both went to him.

“How ya doin’ there Varnack?” Anton gently picked him up and moved him closer to the fire. 

Jessica translated his words.  “He says he’s hungry, sore and tired.”

“Ya really can understand him then?”  Anton held Varnack’s head while Jessica gave the thirsty animal a drink of water from the cup.

“Yeah, I can.”  She stroked his head and scratched behind his ears.  Pulling meat off of the bird bones, she fed him small pieces.  He ate everything she gave him, took another long drink of water, and then closed his eyes.

Anton sat back, watching Jessica care for Varnack.  “We’ll need to leave here before full mornin’ light.  It won’t take the Elitet long to find this place.  Ya’d better catch some more sleep.”

“First, tell me why I’m here.”

Anton hesitated.  Jessica could see him choosing his words carefully.  “Well, it’s like this.  Yer cousin Daenon killed yer uncle ‘n his family.”

“Right…saw it happen.”

“Yer the last o’ the blood-line Protectors.  It’s a long story, but to make it little, yer the one decreed to bring Daenon down.”

Jessica stared at her uncle.  “That’s a little bold, isn’t it?”

He shrugged.  “Look deep inside.  Ya’ll see I’m telling the truth.”

After the Salupathic healing experience, Jessica did not want to feel ‘deep inside’.  Unsure of what she would find there, she chose to ask another question.  “Can I ever go home?”

Anton nodded.  “Yep, ya can.”  Jessica brightened as hope took hold.  “Not right now though, it takes blue persite to break into the Expanse of Gonta ‘n I don’t have any with me.  What little’s left is at Ramadine, just enough for one more journey.”  A look of compassion crossed his face.  “Jessi, if, after ya’ve heard all the facts, ‘n met Larone, ‘n thought about everythin’, ‘n ya don’t want to stay, I promise, no matter what, I’ll send ya home.”

Tears stung her eyes as the possibility sunk in.  “Varnack mentioned Ramadine.  So that’s where we’re going?”

“Eventually, but I’m pretty sure the Elitet know that, so we’ll have to go in a real round about way.  Ya’ll get to see lots o’ country.  Now, go to sleep.”

“You need rest too.  I’ve been asleep for hours and I’m not tired anymore.  You sleep while I keep watch.” 

He opened his mouth in protest, but she raised her hand to stop him.  “I’ll wake you if I hear anything odd.  I’ll also wake you if I get tired.”  He tried to protest once more, but this time she cut him off.  “I mean it, I am not tired.”  She retrieved the blanket once used for covering Varnack, whose fur now felt dry.  After shaking it out, she laid it over Anton.  “You sleep.”

He lay down with a scowl on his face, but within minutes the scowl faded and his snoring competed with the waterfall for sound supremacy.  Jessica smiled.  The snoring was actually quieter than his speaking.

She amused herself the rest of the night by playing in the fire with a long stick.  She kept one ear open for approaching footsteps and one eye on the waterfall to catch the first glimpse of dawn.

Lady Saylon

Gaylee remained dignified and silent throughout the commotion in Ider Hoffle central square.  A few people stared at her, curiosity on their faces, but once the wounded soldiers were carried to Alberod’s building, the crowd dispersed.  A heavy mood hung in the air.  Most of the hofflers left in tears.  The sun had set during the young soldier’s report, so the two silver moons now dominated the heavens above. 

Alone, both physically and emotionally, Gaylee turned her face to the sky.  A profound sadness filled her soul.  The young soldier’s report brought her deepest thoughts to the surface.  Dearest Haesom…my Haesom.  Rather she would have died than he.  Oh, how she wished to see his face one more time, but he was gone from her.  Rest in peace, my son, your sacrifice will not be in vain.  She wandered over to the building she had seen John, the wounded, and several others, probably family members, enter and sat on a wooden bench in front of its dimly lit show window.  If anyone could save the two boys, John could. 

A lamplighter stepped onto the square, a single bright torch in his hand.  He moved from post to post, bringing soft illumination to the friendless plaza.  The click of a boot heel on stone cut through the hushed night.  A lone figure, bare headed, but clad in a long, dark cape crossed the deserted square.   A slight limp in his gait caused an uneven clip-clop in his footsteps.  He did not hurry, but came steadily forward, his course set for Gaylee.  When the man drew closer, she noticed a long, thin scar above his left eye.  His face stirred an old, vague memory.

Directly in front of her, he fell to one knee.  Smartly snapping his left fist to his forehead and then left breast, he saluted her.  “My Lady, you have come home,” he spoke softly and bowed his head.

Gaylee caught her breath.  He recognized her.  Taking good appraisal of the man, she suddenly knew him.  “Ophir, my friend, it has been too long.”  Leaning forward, she touched his shoulder. 

Before they could speak further, the shop door opened and Lyrista, wide eyed, astonishment clearly showing on her face, stood in the open frame.  She stared at Gaylee.  “Ophir?” she questioned, not taking her eyes from the stately woman’s face.  “Why does the Commander of the Esparian Security Academy give the Salute of Loyalty?” 

Without a word, Gaylee stood, then walked past the suspicious woman and into the tidy shop.  Ophir followed behind.  The store abounded with animals, large and small, mounted on walls, logs, and in naturalistic settings.  The displays were as lifelike as anything found in nature.  This taxidermist does beautiful work, Gaylee thought. 

Besides Ophir, Lyrista, and herself, eight other people crammed into the store.  The room fell into silence.  Untying her hood, she slipped it from her head revealing her short, bright red hair.  A gasp of recognition came from the older hofflers.

“My friends, may I introduce Lady Gayleena Liedia of the House of Saylon, Protectoress of Esparia,” Ophir announced.  One by one, as the magnitude of this introduction sunk in, the persons in the room fell to one knee, saluting her.  Two older men were first, with the two older women next. 

“Ophir, introduce me to these kind people.”  With her former general at her side, Gaylee went to the nearest man.  She motioned for him to rise.  “This is Jannir, the father of the young soldier, Jeema.”

“Your brave son is in the hands of the finest healer I know.” 

The woman who cradled Jeema in her arms knelt beside Jannir.  Reaching down, Gaylee took her by the hand and helped her stand.  Ophir introduced her as Kayta, Jeema’s mother.  In a flash, a picture of an aged Jeema, surrounded by children and grandchildren came into Gaylee’s mind.

Gaylee barely whispered.  “I don’t have visions very often.”  Looking deep into the smaller woman’s eyes, she continued.  “Your son is going to live and he will be a great leader in your hoffle.  I’ve seen him, an old man, highly respected, with many loved ones around him.” 

Kayta gasped at the prophecy and fell again to one knee.  “Thank you, My Lady…Thank you.”

The next kneeling man was the High Older of the hoffle and beside him his wife, Geilin.  Gaylee smiled at them both.  “I commend you for your leadership and for showing compassion by being here with the families of these wounded soldiers.”

Two young men in uniforms of navy blue trimmed with silver braid at the neck, shoulder, cuffs and waist were next.  They knelt with heads bowed, their shoulders slumped.  Neither would look at Gaylee when she stepped before them.  She looked to Ophir for explanations.

“Garrett and Mica, My Lady.  They were originally part of our three hundred soldiers stationed at Saylon Dorsett.  They were both excused from duty a week ago to be with their wives, who each have since given birth to sons.  They feel shame, for they missed the great battle.”

“We should have been with our men.” Garrett’s voice choked with regret.

“Do you honestly think two more warriors would have changed the final outcome?” Gaylee queried, but before the soldier could answer she counseled, “Do not be so quick to wish for death, my young friends.  Your courage and skills will yet be needed.  There will be battles enough for you to fight, battles without treachery, battles which can be won.”

Two young women knelt beyond the soldiers.  “Jeema is our childhood friend,” the first explained.  Both girls wore the tan britches and white tunics of Ider Warriors in training.  Each female trainee had her hair tightly braided and knotted on top of her head.  The girls looked remarkably similar, even down to a black handled blade sheathed at the waist.

“Your friend is receiving the best possible care,” Gaylee addressed them. 

Last of all, Gaylee came to Lyrista.  For the first time during his introductions, Ophir addressed Gaylee formally. “My Lady Gayleena, I have the distinct pleasure of introducing you to Lyrista, daughter of General Gammet, your friend from long ago and fallen commander of Protector Haesom’s forces at Saylon Dorsett.” 

Gaylee took Lyrista by both her arms and lifted her up.  She gazed into the hazel brown eyes of General Gammet’s youngest daughter and liked what she saw.  “I knew your father,” Gaylee spoke kindly.  “He was a fine man, an admirable soldier.  I considered him a friend and am deeply saddened by his loss.  I will miss him.  Please accept my sincere sympathy.” 

Lyrista squared her shoulders.  “Thank you, madam.”  She choked back tears.  “I’m also the aunt of the boy who gave the report.  His name is Reese.”

The shop door opening interrupted the interview.  Several women carrying clear glass trays piled with food walked in.  “The evening nourishment has arrived,” Geilin, the High Older’s wife, announced.  The two female trainees cleared a main display table, then the three serving women squeezed goblets, two-pronged forks, and small platters, all made of blue Palium, on top of the wooden slab.  Trays of black roasted meat, steamed vegetable pods, sliced red and yellow fruits, and unleavened white bread were placed in the center of the table.  The serving women kept staring at Gaylee.  Geilin gave them a few hurried words of explanation and gratitude, then ushered them out of the building.

Gaylee sat at the table’s head, with Ophir to her right.  The meal had scarcely begun when the door to the back of the shop creaked and young Reese shuffled out.  Lyrista darted to his side.  Clean and sporting fresh bandages, the young man leaned heavily on his aunt.  

“Jeema has lost too much blood.  The healer says he’ll die unless it’s replenished.  He requires Jeema’s mother or father to come and give some.  This is not without danger.  There’s a chance the blood could kill him, but without it, he is dead for sure.”  Without hesitation, Jannir hurried through the door to the place of surgery. 

Lyrista guided Reese to Jannir’s freshly vacated chair.  Geilin piled one of the thin blue platters with food.  The meal proceeded with no one speaking, but all intently watching the pale soldier.  He ate a large amount of the food placed before him. With warm food to give him nourishment, the young man’s color had dramatically improved.

Gaylee also watched the young man from across the table.  When he had finished his meal she spoke.  “I know you're tired and you need rest, but tell me young soldier, how are you so certain you were betrayed?” From his first accusation, she felt disturbed.  She did not disbelieve him, the opposite was true; treason was the single possible explanation for Haesom’s total defeat.  She desired more information about who this traitor could be.

Reese looked at Gaylee with obvious confusion in his tired eyes.  “I’m sorry, my lady,” he said.  “But…”

“Reese,” Lyrista said gently, “this is Lady Gayleena Saylon, High Protector Haesom’s mother.”

“His mother?” he said softly.  Some of the new found color faded from his cheeks.  He swallowed hard. 

“My Grandfather, General Gammet, was warned of the attack.  However, the informer reported that the Elitet were yet three days away.  We began organizing our defenses, but had we known they would attack that night, we would have immediately evacuated the Protector and his family.”  His voice broke and he fought for control of his emotions.  “Lady Saylon, Lord Haesom’s wife, asked for a few hours to pack some things.  General Gammet thought there was sufficient time and agreed.” 

He gazed at Gaylee, his eyes filled with pain at the memory.  “We had no idea we were out of time.  When the attack came, I led fifty others from our hoffle with the assignment to protect the High family.  Our defenses were not all in place, but that should have made no difference.  We should have been able to hold the attackers until reinforcements came.  Gammet dispatched three men through a secret tunnel to go for help.”  Gaylee nodded.  She remembered the tunnel he spoke of.  “Somehow, the Elitet knew about the tunnel.  Our runners were cut down before they were even out.  The enemy flooded into the Dorsett through it.  They targeted our weakest defenses first and before long we were overrun. Only a traitor in our midst could have given so much detail to the enemy about our defenses.”  He hung his head and continued, “I’m sorry, My Lady.  I failed.  I did not protect your family.” 

Lyrista, tears floating in her eyes, wrapped an arm around her nephew’s shoulders. 

“You would have been proud of your son and two grandsons,” Reese whispered hoarsely.  “They fought like true Ider Warriors.  My last service to the family was to find their bodies and bury them beside Lord Graesion, then Jeema and I came directly here.”  His voice broke, his head hung low.

Gaylee stood, took his face into her hands, and raised it so she could see into his tear-filled eyes.  “Reese, I know you would have died for them.  You nearly did.  I do
not
hold you responsible for what happened there.”  Lowering her hands, she asked, “Who falsely warned General Gammet of the coming attack?”

Her words seemed to bring calm to Reese.  “I don’t know, My Lady.  He came in secret, meeting only with my grandfather and his close advisers.  I was not one of that circle.  Since everyone who would have known is now dead, we may never find out.”

“Thank you, Reese.”

“We’ll leave now.” Lyrista took the young man’s arm.  “Reese needs to rest.  When you’re ready, please come to my home, I have room for you there.  Ophir will show you the way.”  Her request was more of an order, and Gaylee noticed not even Geilin raised objection, though she bit her lip and fidgeted with a large ring on her finger.  Supporting Reese, Lyrista left the shop.  Gaylee could see this was a very capable woman, used to being in command.

“Reese is more Lyrista’s son than nephew,” Ophir explained.  He had left the table and wandered among the handsomely displayed animals during Reese’s interview.  But Gaylee knew her former general missed nothing of the conversation.  “Her only sister died giving birth to him, and since the father is a soldier, not often here, Lyrista raised him.  She’s also one of our best trainers at the academy.  You’ll find few more skilled at close combat than Lyrista.  I for one would not wish to fight her.”

Gaylee took a chair, placed it by the large display window and sat down.  “Ophir, I have been gone fifty years and for fifty years I’ve wondered what took place that terrible day so long ago, when you burst into that room and informed me of Graesion’s death.  Tell me what happened after I left.”

Everyone in the room focused on Ophir.  Gaylee knew only she could have asked such a question of him and she fully expected an answer.  He walked to the table, took a chair of his own, and placed it beside Gaylee’s.  “When young Haesom decided to stay, and not travel with you through that…whatever it was, I pledged my loyalty to Healer Larone.  Once you disappeared, I headed to the front hall to check on the battle, but Gammet met me in the main passageway with ten others.  They were all that remained of our force.  We raced back to your uncles and managed to escape through the tunnel Reese just spoke of.  Once out of the Dorsett, we sheltered Haesom as best we could.” 

Ophir made a slight smile.  “Graesion trained him well.  That little boy could truly handle a sword.  We cut our way through Segal’s troops to freedom.  I’ve never seen anyone fight like your Uncle Anton.  Only eight survived, Gammet, your uncles, Haesom, three soldiers, who now lie dead at Saylon Dorsett, and myself.  Through the years, Larone gave your son all the love any father could give a boy.  Rest assured of that.”

Gaylee wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.  She had spent many worried nights wondering if her thirteen-year-old was thrown into a man’s world without any parental love or support.  Now she realized how unfounded those concerns were.  Of course Larone would treat him as his own child.  This was the kind of man Larone was.