Valorian (18 page)

On a hot summer morning, Valorian's and Gylden's families bade farewel , broke camp, and went their separate paths. Valorian and Gylden promised to meet again in the autumn. Then they clasped hands and fol owed their caravans on to other pastures.

Valorian's family traveled slowly southeast toward the natural springs called Amara's Tears. The springs were a popular stopping place for the Clan families, and Valorian hoped to find at least one other group there. They arrived on a sultry evening and made camp by the clear, bubbling springs in the light of a full moon. Valorian was disappointed to see no one else was there, but the feeling didn't last long.

A few days later, as he was watering Hunnul at one of the stone wells built around the spring pools, the black lifted his head and pricked his ears. The clansman looked to the hills and saw one of the guards lift his horn. A high, ringing note sounded on the wind, bringing the clanspeople running. A second caravan, much larger than Valorian's, appeared over the rim of a slope to the east, led by a burly, heavily bearded man on a big white horse.

You do not like this man?
Hunnul asked in Valorian's mind.

The clansman started, surprised by the words and the perception behind the question. Although he had shaped the spel that gave Hunnul the power to communicate, Valorian was not yet accustomed to the slow, deep voice that spoke in his head without sound. Hunnul’s use of his new talent was growing every day, and it could be very disconcerting, especially when he was right.

"How did you know?" Valorian asked softly.

Hunnul snorted.
I remember this man's smel . He is sour, and you are not pleased to see him. Your
hand has tightened on my mane.

With a chuckle, Valorian released the black hairs and swung onto the stallion's back. "No, I do not like Karez. He is . . . unpleasant. He is also the leader of the second largest family and someone I must convince if we are to succeed in uniting the Clan. So I will be polite." In only a matter of moments, Valorian's good intentions were put to the test.

"Valorian!" Karez's voice boomed out to span the distance between them. "What in the gods'

names are you doing here?" He guided his horse toward the largest spring and made an angry gesture toward a small herd of goats grazing near the clear, bubbling pool. "Tell your people to move those ragged-looking beasts!" he bellowed without any further greeting.

Resignedly Valorian ordered several boys to move the goats out of Karez's way, and he watched as the big clansman directed his caravan to the biggest camping area and settled in as if the springs were his alone.

Aiden, his entire demeanor stiff with outrage, came galloping over to where his brother was mounted on Hunnul. "That bul headed Karez just had his men drive our horses off the east meadow!" he shouted furiously. "He's moving in his own herd." Valorian didn't react. His own anger was tightly clamped by the knowledge that he didn't dare alienate Karez before he had a chance to talk to the man.

He only said grimly, "Karez hasn't changed much, has he?" Aiden nearly choked. "Aren't you going to do anything about it?"

"No, and neither are you," Valorian replied as calmly as possible. "Keep a civil tongue in your head, or I'll be forced to banish you from the springs."

The younger warrior slammed his fist on his saddle pommel, but he subsided under Valorian's ferocious glare and watched sullenly as Karez made himself comfortable under an awning. The other family began to set up their camp. They seemed genuinely pleased to see Valorian's family, yet they made no attempt to greet the other clanspeople until their work was completed.

"Karez obviously still thinks he's going to be lord chieftain," Aiden muttered. "He's already acting like one."

Valorian barely nodded. Karez bad made it common knowledge for years that he wanted to be chieftain someday, but he hadn't yet tried to challenge Lord Fearral or make any serious move to claim the title. He simply made himself obnoxious to everyone by behaving as if the chieftainship were already his.

To Valorian's dismay, Karez's brutish and unpredictable temper didn't improve over the next few days. It took all of Valorian's willpower to remain polite to the heavy warrior and keep relations pleasant between the two families.

After three days of the two families keeping their distance, Valorian talked Karez into joining the groups for an evening of music and stories. The people mingled and danced and enjoyed the company long into the night. Then Valorian rose to tell his story. He told the tale as he had before, in words and magic, and his own people thrilled to his adventure. They never grew tired of hearing it.

The other family, however, grew quieter and quieter. Quite a few worried looks were cast at Karez, who sat with some of his strongest men around him. As soon as Valorian revealed his power, Karez's face abruptly turned red. By the time Valorian reached the end and began talking about the Ramtharin Plains, Karez was livid. It had never dawned on him that Valorian had any serious ambitions to the leadership of the Clan, yet here he was talking about the wil of the gods and leading the people out of Chadar. Jealousy and resentment surged within him.

Before Valorian could finish, Karez climbed to his feet.

"Valorian," he said with heavy sarcasm, "you should get a position as storyteller in Tyrranis's court.

You could make enough den air to buy yourself a new tent or maybe a woman who could bear you sons."

Valorian's family broke out in angry cries of protest. Valorian coolly crossed his arms. His eyes were hooded in the shadows, but there was no mistaking their glittering scorn.

"You do not think the tale has merit for the Clan?" he asked, choosing to ignore the insults. Karez wasn't going to incite him into a fight now.

"Merit?" Karez laughed; his belly shook beneath his tight leather vest. "Your tricks of so-called magic might entertain the Tarns, but I see no use in them. As for your idea that we leave Chadar for some pitiful land even the Tarns don't want, don't waste your breath. No one wil go."

"
I
will!" Mother Willa shouted. The old woman rose from the log she was sitting on, marched forward, and shook her fist under Karez's nose. No one in either family smiled or ridiculed the little woman glaring up at the burly man. They respected her too much for that.

"It is the will of Amara that we leave, Karez, not Valorian. Are you willing to risk denying the goddess of life?" Every eye fastened on Karez to see his reaction. His red face paled several shades, but he knew he had to hold his position if he were going to keep a grip on his people. He stepped back from her-—not even he dared lay hands on Mother Willa—and looked over her head.

"You let women talk for you now?" he said to Valorian with contempt. He quickly moved to Counter Mother Willa's influence by demanding, "What does Our lord chieftain have to say about this?"

Valorian didn't move a muscle. "He is not in favor of it," he answered truthfully.

"Huh!" Karez gestured fiercely to his people and they hurried to leave the gathering. "Neither am I!" he bellowed, and he stomped off, leaving Valorian and the rest of the clanspeople looking slightly dazed.

Aiden curled his lip. "He is as bad as Fearral."

"Worse," Mother Willa replied sadly. "He's jealous, too." In spite of Valorian's best efforts to talk to Karez some more, the man would have nothing to do with him. The big clansman made it clear to all that he had no intention of going anywhere with Valorian and would not set foot out of Chadar without Lord Fearral's command. The rest of his people wouldn't talk to Valorian either, for fear of angering their leader.

Mother Willa sought out Valorian one afternoon and told him, "I've talked to a few of Karez's family, and they seem to be interested in leaving Chadar."

"But?" he asked, knowing from the tone in her voice that there was more.

She sighed irritably. "But. . . they won't make a move without Karez's direct order."

A shadow of anger passed over Valorian's face and was gone. "Well, there's nothing more I can do with Karez if he won't listen. We'd better move on. The sun has already passed its solstice, and we have four more families to visit."

His grandmother glanced up at him, her eyes twinkling under her rough-woven sun hat. "You knew it wasn't going to be easy."

He suddenly grinned at her. "Of course. I won't give up on Karez entirely. Even he doesn't deserve being left to the Tarns." With a shake of his head, Valorian went to find Aiden. The fol owing day the family packed their caravan and left the springs without a word of farewell.

Karez watched them go from under the shady awning of his tent. His heavily lidded eyes narrowed as Valorian crested the hill on his black horse and disappeared from view. He had a bad feeling about that man. It was obvious to him that Valorian wasn't going to give up his ridiculous scheme easily. He sounded too fervent, too convincing. And those strange tricks of his. . . Karez didn't believe for a moment that Valorian really had the power of magic, but more gullible people could take those tricks very seriously.

Valorian could cause some real trouble in the Clan. Something would have to be done, or Valorian could maneuver his way into the chieftainship before anyone could stop him and actual y try to take the Clan out of Chadar.

Perhaps, Karez thought to himself, General Tyrranis should hear about this—in a circuitous way, of course. The governor might be very interested in hearing what Valorian was doing. Karez settled back on his stool, and a gap toothed smile slowly creased his dark beard.

By summer's end, Valorian knew his hopes to cross Wolfeared Pass by autumn were dead. It had taken most of the summer to find and talk to every family in the Clan, and even then he couldn't persuade everyone to agree to go. The reasons for refusal were not many, but they were common throughout the scattered clanspeople. Many of those who didn't want to attempt the journey were afraid of General Tyrranis and his troops, and some were reluctant to disobey Lord Fearral or apprehensive about leaving Chadar for a new, unseen land.

Valorian had to agree their fears were valid, but not insurmountable. About half of the clanspeople did agree with him, either out of belief in the will of the gods or a fierce desire to escape the Tarns. He knew his inability to convince the other half wasn't for lack of trying. He had done everything he could think of, from revealing his power of magic to extolling Hunnul's gifts from the goddess and offering him as stud to any family in need of a good stal ion. There simply had to be something else he could do, something he hadn't thought of yet, that would convince the rest of his people. Particularly Lord FearraI.

Unfortunately there wasn't much time left. Valorian knew if the Clan didn't leave Chadar by the next summer at the latest, they would probably lose any chance they had of escaping. The tribute to General Tyrranis would be due again, and many of the clanspeople admitted to Valorian that they wouldn't be able to pay the crippling tax by the next season. If they didn't pay, the Tarns would confiscate everything they could get their hands on or sell the people as slaves.

There was also the problem of Stonehelm. Lord Fearral had ignored the general's order to tear down the palisades and had made little effort to replenish the herds or strengthen the town's economy.

Many people believed the Tarns would put the vil age to the sword within the year.

Secrecy was also a major problem. Valorian knew it was only a matter of time before word of his activities reached the ear of the general. Tyrranis would not be pleased to learn a clansman was trying to persuade his people to go to a new land. Knowing the general's reputation, Valorian was well aware that Tyrranis would not sit idly by while he tried to convince his people to leave.

Therefore, by some means or another, Valorian had to secretly unite the Clan, convince Fearral to change his mind, and slip the people out of Chadar after the snow melt but before the Tarns could catch them. The whole thing was enough to make him groan.

Yet through al the disappointments and setbacks, his faith in his mission never faltered. After the first doubts and confusion when he returned from the realm of the dead, his belief in a new home had turned into a bright, steady flame that burned in his heart with unquenchable zeal. The exodus would happen-he knew it. Its execution was merely a matter of effort and timing. Somehow the will of the gods would help him fit everything into place.

* * * * *

Leagues to the west, in the garrison town of Actigorium, General Ivorn Tyrranis drummed his long fingers thoughtfully on a windowsill in his large, airy dayroom. Several of his aides and officers watched him silently from the back of the room, and two guards stood motionless by the door.

“Tell me this rumor again, merchant. Leave out no detail," Tyrranis said. His voice was glacial.

The Chadarian merchant, on his knees before the general, swallowed hard. "I-I've been hearing rumors, Your Eminence," he stammered.

"Yes, yes," Tyrranis said testily. "We know that.” He turned to face the fat old Chadarian, and the edge of his sword clanged against the stone.

The merchant winced. Tyrranis, as usual, was dressed in the full regalia of a Tarnish officer, although he had retired from active duty to serve the emperor as a provincial governor. He felt the gleaming brass breastplate, the black tunic edged in gold, and the sword were intimidating to those beneath him.

He was right in part, but what intimidated most people was his demeanor. The general was a man of medium height and gigantic ego. He kept his body strong and lean and his mind dagger quick. His jaw was clean shaven, and his hair was cut very short, which left nothing to distract from his cold, sharp features. His eyes had the merciless, deadpan stare of a cobra, and he used them to their full effect by staring at people with his thin lips pul ed tight and his expression contemptuous. When General Tyrranis turned his cold gaze on someone, there was no need for him to shout or demand.

Now he stared, unblinking, at the merchant. The Chadarian had brought him news and rumors from the marketplace before, but the man was getting old, and his news was often unreliable. Tyrranis wanted to be certain that this rumor wasn't a mere fable the merchant had brought in for gold.