The Protector of Esparia (The Annals of Esparia Book 1) (31 page)

Cordon saved their visit to Naydeen for the last.  When they approached her room, Anton could be heard.  “When I thought ya was dead, I wanted to die too.  I stayed alone and shut everyone out, even Larone.  I knew I was hurtin’ him, but I couldn’t tell him I’d killed our brother.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Anton.”  Naydeen’s voice was soothing.  “Segal tried to kill me, then you.  You were defending us both when he lunged at you.  How were you to know that by sidestepping him, he would slip on the stair and fall on his own knife?  It wasn’t your fault.”

Cordon cleared his throat, then entered the room, followed by Gammet and Lepsis.  They found Naydeen sitting up in bed, Anton by her side, holding her hand.  Her face radiated happiness.  Her light brown hair hung loosely around her shoulders and a soft peach robe complimented the color of her cheeks. 

After Lepsis introduced his sister to the two seventh bars, they bowed low. 

“I heard of your efforts to warn the Lady Gayleena and her family about the attack on her home fifty years ago,” Gammet said.  “I was at the Dorsett when your warning came.  Lord Graesion was killed then, but the Lady and her little daughter had just enough time to escape.  I don’t know if you ever knew.  I’d like to shake the hand of the bravest women I have ever known.  That warning cost you a great deal.”  He held out his hand and she took it firmly.

Cordon softened at the interaction between Gammet, Lepsis, Anton and Naydeen.  He never knew the lady, but seeing her now, the way she looked at Anton and Lepsis, brought a smile to his face.  There was unmistakable love there, a familial connection between the three. 
John was right,
he thought
.  If I survive this war, I’ll definitely look toward family life.

Four days later, Anton galloped at the head of the eighteen freed prisoners, Naydeen, and twenty-five of Lyrista’s Guardians toward Ramadine.  The other twenty-five Guardians, along with Gammet, and led by Fourth Bar Ru, sped to the Southern headquarters where John was in command.  Cordon had planned on giving the freed captives more time to recuperate before sending them to Ramadine, but an urgent, cryptic message had changed everything. 

Anton,

Jessica abducted by Elitet. Come now.

Larone

Light Meets Darkness

Jessica had a strange sense of calm about her.  She realized that if they wanted to kill her, the Elitet would have done so back in the Colossus Forest.  In an odd way, she felt quite important.
 
Daenon must be pretty desperate to send ten Elitet after one girl.  The knowledge of them needing her alive, if even for a short time, gave her power. 

Escape was foremost on her mind.  She kept a sharp watch for any opening to bolt from their circle, but the opportunity never presented itself.  Her captors took no chances, keeping her tightly surrounded and not allowing her control of Web’s reins. 

Following the path of the sun, they rode continually for three days and nights, with only a short break each evening at small pools of water so the horses could eat and drink.  At these brief stops the same Elitet would hand Jessica a small pouch filled with shelled nuts, dried fruits and some dried vegetables that tasted remarkably like squash.  She was quick to refill her own flasks in the same water that the horses drank from, realizing this liquid should be safe for her as well. 

Riding single file, they kept to the wilderness areas.  The brutal pace pushed both human and horse to near exhaustion.  The first real stop came after three hard days, late into the night.  No one spoke to Jessica, but her Elitet threw her a new pouch.  This one held a few pieces of dried meat along with the nuts, fruits and vegetables.  The men dug into their own packs for the first time and ate.  It was the first real nourishment she saw them take, for up until now they had only drunk from their side flagons and eaten what Jessica guessed to be dried biscuits. 

Sinking in a heap at Web’s feet, she ate the food.  “They must really want to get to their deserts,” she muttered to the grazing animal.  “How are you holding up, boy?”

The picture of a warm stable with plenty of fresh hay and cool water came into her mind.  Laughing softly, Jessica stroked the horse’s powerful legs.  “Yeah, I know exactly how you feel.”  She drank half the water, then held the container for him to drain the remainder. 

The stop was far too short.  Jessica felt she just barely closed her eyes when she was pulled to her feet and dumped back into her saddle.  Once again, a grueling pace was set as they sped toward the desert lands.

On one occasion Jessica tried speaking with the man whose duty it was to supply her daily food pouch.  She had come to think of him as her only semi-friend as his eyes were not as cold as the others.  “Could you tell me how many more days until we reach the deserts?”  He seemed not to have heard her, so she opened her mouth to ask again, but the query died in her throat.  He suddenly glared at her and put a hand to his dagger.  The message was clear. 
So much for semi-friend
she thought.

It soon became apparent the Elitet rarely spoke to each other.  Only their leader, a tall, lean man with cold, gray eyes broke the silence, and when he did, it was to give a brief command.  Jessica had the nagging feeling she had seen him somewhere before.  With boredom driving her curiosity, she took note of his every action.  He dressed as the other Elitet, with the addition of a wide, red sash around his middle.  He was a Shield, and she wondered if the width of his sash corresponded with his rank, for the other Shields she had seen wore thin red belts.  The commander isolated himself from his men and always rode at the head of the column.  When he gave an order, the others quickly executed it.  She sensed fear in some of them when he walked by. 

With little else to do while she traveled, Jessica worked on her clairvoyant exercises.  She began by communicating with Web while they rode.  When she first understood him back in Feather Forest, he had whinnied his communication.  Now their connection needed to be more telepathic.  She had advanced in this area during her drills with Larone, so her goal was to fine tune the ability.  She still did not understand her healing gifts, nor how she channeled Edia’s power.  She hoped to one day understand everything about her heritage, but realized it could take years and the thought scared her. 
Years.  I need to be realistic, I could die here anytime.
  She shuddered, then pushed the reality of her situation aside and concentrated on Web.

Little by little, the environment changed. The dense forests gradually thinned, opening onto filons of short, grassy plain.  The further west they rode, the more the grasslands gave way to desert terrain.  When Jessica first heard about the Deserts of Demar, she pictured Arabian deserts, with their shifting sands and filons of desolate dunes, but this was more like the Mojave Desert of the Southwestern United States.  Large Sonora-type cacti dotted the land as well as smaller, flat pronged cactus plants.  Tall, spindly trees and large tumbleweed scrub plants accented the scene.  There were a few wild flowers, some bright red and others pale yellow.  Many short, spiny bushes were covered in small purple buds. 
This place has a stark beauty,
she thought. 
I bet that with proper irrigation it would really blossom.

Once within the desert territory the commander finally slowed the pace.  Jessica sensed relief from each of the horses, especially Web. 

“How are you doing?” She asked him several times a day, her heart aching because of the strain he was under. 

“Do this,” he always responded.  “For J’ca.”

Each night, when unstrapped from the saddle, she would throw her arms around his neck and whisper her gratitude for his strength.  “I love you, Web.”

She knew he was ready to drop and barely able to keep stride with the others.  “Love, J’ca,” he replied.

Five days after leaving the Colossus Mountains, the band arrived at a small village.  Looking as if it rose up from the desert floor itself, every building was made of adobe brick and brown mud.  When they approached, people emerged from the small, sunburned homes.  The spectators consisted mostly of ragged women and dirty children--throngs of children, ranging from small toddlers to young teenagers.  One, too thin, black haired girl cried out in astonishment, “Ten!  There are ten heroes!” 

Few men were among the onlookers.  Those scattered among the crowd were either grossly maimed or extremely old.  Many young ones stared in curiosity and pointed to Jessica’s red hair.  The older children, however, stared with hate in their eyes.  One teenage girl even spat on the ground when she passed by, making her momentarily grateful for the Elitet surrounding her.  For the first time since being taken in the Colossus Forest, Jessica felt danger.

At this village they exchanged horses, for the ones they were riding were half dead.  Jessica had only a few moments to say good-bye to her beloved Web. 

“Find J’ca,” he promised and nuzzled her cheek. 

“If you can’t, then go back to Ramadine.  I’ll free myself and meet you there,” she whispered in his ear.  Jessica swallowed hard, forcing back the tears as a stable boy led the trusted animal away.  “Take good care of him,” she pleaded.

Leaving the squalid village behind, Jessica hid her grief.  They won’t see me cry,
she swore with stern determination.  After a while, to replace her gloomy thoughts, she reflected on the differences between Demar and Esparia.  The desert people were darker skinned than their eastern brothers.  There were no blonds, but hair color ranged from light brown to deep black.  Most natives had large, deep-set, ebony eyes, framed by beautiful, long lashes.  A few looked at her through gray orbs, encased by shorter, thick, lashes. 

Whether black, brown or gray eyed, one common factor stood out, that of the deep affection the women had for their children and the siblings had for each other.  The desert people were unashamed to demonstrate their love for one another.  Older children cradled younger ones, while mothers embraced them all in protective arms.  Tender kisses were exchanged between the groups, even in the presence of Elitet. 
If such familial love can exist, then perhaps the people could learn to extend that love to Esparia
, she thought. 
But, nothing can be sorted out until Daenon is dead, or at least out of power.  His constant diet of hate has scarred these people
.   

Each village and hamlet turned out to be the same as the first.  Open sewers ran down the streets, children wore rags and many looked malnourished.  Garbage lay everywhere, and there were rats, a lot of rats.  ‘If you see rats in daylight’ she remembered her father once saying, ‘you know you’re in trouble.’  Jessica lost count of the many dismal places they rode through. 

With civilization now reached, the population increased dramatically the closer they drew to Rendaira, Daenon’s estate.  The roads were lined with crowds of curious, poverty-stricken natives, many of whom looked as if they wanted her for dinner.

The commander seemed to have an aversion to these small villages.  He would increase their speed when they neared one, then gallop through at full speed, regardless of who was in the way.  On several occasions Jessica was fearful for the villagers’ safety, hoping no one wandered onto the road.  In one tiny tiern her fear turned to nightmarish reality when an elderly woman, hampered by her crutch, failed to reach the safety of the roadside.  The commander aimed his mount directly for her.  As if in slow motion, Jessica saw what was about to occur. 

“No!” she screamed. 

The woman looked up, surprise on her weathered face.  She never had a chance.

Jessica twisted in her saddle to look behind when they passed.  A young girl, tears streaming down her face, knelt beside the lifeless body.

The Elitet never slept in the villages.  Each evening the commander found an isolated spot away from the road for their campsite.  Two men were always dispatched to hunt for food.  Fresh snake and a seemingly endless supply of dried biscuits were the usual evening meal.  Jessica decided semi-cooked snake wasn’t really that bad.  She decided that if the men could handle it so could she and forced herself to eat what they gave her.   She always refilled her water containers where the horses were allowed to drink. 

Nightly rituals consisted of each Elitet meticulously shaving his head, then rubbing an oil-based solution on it.  Jessica thought the shiny liquid smelled like vinegar.  She would sleep deeply, exhausted by the short nights and long days of travel.  Each morning the campers were up and back on the road before dawn. 

After four days of feeling like a freak in a zoo, Jessica saw a large city in the distance.  She looked inquiringly at her Elitet who was in his usual position at her side.  Whether as guard or protector, she hadn’t a clue, but she nearly fell off of her mount when he whispered, “Asmoth”. 

The drab stone buildings peaking above a high, brick and cement fortress-style wall were a stark contrast to the mud huts of the small villages.  About a filon from the city, the road leading to it turned from hardened earth to cement.  The wooden gates of the citadel wall stood open and the group crossed the entry a little before noontime. 

Three and four story sandstone buildings lined the streets.  Compared to the structures at Ramadine and in most of Esparia, these smooth, unadorned buildings looked relatively new.  From what Jessica could see, shops and small factories occupied the ground levels and residences comprised the upper levels, however few patrons or workers could be seen through the clear glass windows.  Though there was no detectable stench of open sewage, garbage lay everywhere and rats ran between the closely constructed buildings. 

People on the street gripped their cloth-bound packages close to their bodies, seemingly afraid of the precious parcels being stolen.  The shoppers were dressed a little better than those in the villages, their clothing being brighter in color, with a few yellows and greens mixed in with the dull browns and tans.  Most of the clothing looked to be made of the same cotton-like material Jessica had seen throughout Esparia. 

More men traveled the streets here than previously seen.  A few soldiers stood at attention while the Elitet passed, and other small groups of men watched in mild interest.  No one smiled, and very few onlookers had any real life in their eyes.  Most gazed expressionless at Jessica, with only one or two showing the extreme dislike the villagers had expressed.  Many pedestrians were forced to scurry for safety when the Elitet cantered down the center of the street, giving no regard for others on it. 

A wave of pity swept through Jessica.  If eyes are the windows to the soul, then where is the spark?  Where is the passion?  It’s as if the people of this city were on automatic.  The villagers showed complete hatred, but at least they had emotions.  She noticed more lightly skinned persons here; they were markedly different from the country people.  Side by side, the true desert natives stood out from the rest.

As they drew closer to the center of the tiern, the street became cleaner and the buildings more ornate.  At the central square, there was real beauty for the first time since entering the Deserts of Demar.  On the border of the main square were many large, elaborate homes.  Each of these pink, blue, and green marbled mansions had wrought iron balconies which overlooked a central, statuesque fountain.  Several men and women, dressed in bright silks and satins, stood on the balconies.  Each person was draped with chains of gold that sparkled in the sunlight.  The finery of their apparel made a glaring contrast to the poverty Jessica had seen only an hour or so earlier.