Seeds of Rebellion
Page 71
“I wish I could jog and sleep at the same time.”
“Can’t you?” Ferrin asked, joining them at the little cascade. “I always imagined that you could sleep rolling down a mountainside in a barrel.”
“I probably could today,” Jason conceded.
“How’s it look out there?” Rachel asked. She hadn’t seen Ferrin in more than an hour.
“Quiet,” Ferrin replied. “I haven’t heard Drake in some time. He must have roamed far.”
“There goes Nedwin,” Aram said, pointing.
Nedwin was scaling a vertical finger of rock to get a view of the broken countryside. He ascended without hesitation, despite an apparent lack of handholds.
“How does he do that?” Corinne asked.
“I’m not sure,” Ferrin muttered.
Tark erupted in another fit of coughing. His face turned red, veins stood out in his neck, and he began to vomit. Rachel covered her ears until he finished.
Aram came up to Ferrin. “Do you know which way we’re heading? I thought I might run ahead while I have my size.”
Rachel glanced at the light gathering on the cloudy horizon. The sun would appear within an hour.
Ferrin turned to face the craggy mountains. They loomed much closer than they had at dusk, but a broken succession of bluffs and ridges still separated the group from the feet of the real slopes.
“See the ridge with the notch?”
“The one above that really square edge?”
“Exactly. We’re heading around the right side of it, then along a ravine.”
“Understood. See you there.” Aram took off almost at a sprint, ring mail jangling.
“All of us should hurry,” Galloran prompted.
Jason looked up to where Nedwin was descending the spire of rock.
“Nedwin will catch up,” Ferrin said, patting Jason on the arm. “Why don’t you lead Aram’s horse?”
They started moving again, with Ferrin in front and Dorsio and Jason guiding the horses. Corinne and Rachel fell into step beside each other.
“You and Jason both hail from the Beyond?” Corinne asked.
“We didn’t know each other there,” Rachel replied. “We’re from different areas. But yes, we’re Beyonders.”
“You seem close.”
“We’ve been through a lot together.”
“You seem rather young to be involved with my father.”
“We didn’t have a lot of choice in the matter,” Rachel said. “It just worked out this way. We can’t be too much younger than you.”
“I’m nineteen.”
“How long were you in that tree?”
“Since I was four.”
Rachel tried to imagine what it would be like if her only real memories of the world came from age four or younger. “This must all feel really new.”
Corinne gave a brief laugh, emphasizing the understatement. “I’m not used to company. Or danger. Or changes of scenery. I have vivid, distant memories of my childhood—a nursemaid, a playroom full of wonderful toys, a bed with lacy covers, delicious bowls of chilled fruit floating in cream—culminating with my father smuggling me away in the night. He brought me to a tree in the swamp to visit my great-aunt Madeline. The rest of my life happened somewhere beyond the opening to that tree. Every memory begins when I exit the tree and ends when I enter it. I remember some conversations with my father from my younger days. Then he stopped visiting. I remember conversing with my great-aunt. One memory begins with me dragging her lifeless body out of the tree. I didn’t even know how she had died, until I found the note I had written to myself. Thereafter my only memories pertain to performing exercises with my sword and reading books.”
“I can barely imagine,” Rachel said.
“I dreamed of escaping for years,” Corinne sighed. “Now that I’m free, I can hardly believe it. Part of me had begun to suspect I would grow old and die on that muddy little island. Everything has changed so quickly. I barely know how to feel. This might sound silly, but I somehow expected that when I finally did leave the swamp, it would mean the end of my troubles. Father would take me home to a happier, more meaningful life—the hard-earned reward for my patience. I never expected this.”
“If it’s any consolation,” Rachel said, “I never expected anything like this either.”
They picked their way across a rugged stretch; then the route became smoother and their pace increased. Rachel found herself perspiring and breathing hard. How had the others done this all night? No wonder Jason had looked so tired.
When the sun came up, Rachel paused to stare at the glorious horizon. Beams of sunlight shot through the clouds at dramatic angles, throwing dazzling highlights over the landscape. “Is it always so beautiful?” Corinne asked.
Rachel realized that the vegetation in the swamp would have blocked out sunrises and sunsets. “It’s an extra-good one,” Rachel replied. “But they’re usually pretty nice.”
They hurried onward. After hiking through a long, shallow ravine, they found Aram waiting for them, his ring-mail shirt and heavy cloak bundled with his sword. Ferrin called for a halt, perhaps because he had noticed that Corinne looked ready to faint. Rachel felt bad for her. No matter how much Corinne had practiced with her sword and otherwise tried to stay active, it would be tough to get much cardio when trapped on a tiny island.
While they rested in the shade of an outcrop, drinking from waterskins and catching their breath, Nedwin shouted from a distance that Drake was returning. Within a few minutes, they could hear the horse, and soon Drake rode up on Mandibar.
“I’ve spotted our enemies,” Drake said, urgency in his tone. “At least forty horsemen riding hard, and another large company of riders coming from farther off.”
“How close are they?” Galloran asked gravely.
“We’re much closer to the pass,” Drake said. “I could only spy them from a high lookout miles from here. But in shameless defiance of the treaty, they’re on the main road and riding hard. They’re trying to beat us to West Gate.”
“We have to get there first,” Galloran said.
“That or hide in these foothills,” Drake said. “I know the region well.”
Galloran shook his head. “If they block us from the pass, with a lurker after us and with Maldor adding more soldiers to the hunt, we’ll not stay hidden long.”
Drake scowled thoughtfully. “You really think the Amar Kabal will remain idle if Maldor brings a major force to their doorstep?”
“Can’t you?” Ferrin asked, joining them at the little cascade. “I always imagined that you could sleep rolling down a mountainside in a barrel.”
“I probably could today,” Jason conceded.
“How’s it look out there?” Rachel asked. She hadn’t seen Ferrin in more than an hour.
“Quiet,” Ferrin replied. “I haven’t heard Drake in some time. He must have roamed far.”
“There goes Nedwin,” Aram said, pointing.
Nedwin was scaling a vertical finger of rock to get a view of the broken countryside. He ascended without hesitation, despite an apparent lack of handholds.
“How does he do that?” Corinne asked.
“I’m not sure,” Ferrin muttered.
Tark erupted in another fit of coughing. His face turned red, veins stood out in his neck, and he began to vomit. Rachel covered her ears until he finished.
Aram came up to Ferrin. “Do you know which way we’re heading? I thought I might run ahead while I have my size.”
Rachel glanced at the light gathering on the cloudy horizon. The sun would appear within an hour.
Ferrin turned to face the craggy mountains. They loomed much closer than they had at dusk, but a broken succession of bluffs and ridges still separated the group from the feet of the real slopes.
“See the ridge with the notch?”
“The one above that really square edge?”
“Exactly. We’re heading around the right side of it, then along a ravine.”
“Understood. See you there.” Aram took off almost at a sprint, ring mail jangling.
“All of us should hurry,” Galloran prompted.
Jason looked up to where Nedwin was descending the spire of rock.
“Nedwin will catch up,” Ferrin said, patting Jason on the arm. “Why don’t you lead Aram’s horse?”
They started moving again, with Ferrin in front and Dorsio and Jason guiding the horses. Corinne and Rachel fell into step beside each other.
“You and Jason both hail from the Beyond?” Corinne asked.
“We didn’t know each other there,” Rachel replied. “We’re from different areas. But yes, we’re Beyonders.”
“You seem close.”
“We’ve been through a lot together.”
“You seem rather young to be involved with my father.”
“We didn’t have a lot of choice in the matter,” Rachel said. “It just worked out this way. We can’t be too much younger than you.”
“I’m nineteen.”
“How long were you in that tree?”
“Since I was four.”
Rachel tried to imagine what it would be like if her only real memories of the world came from age four or younger. “This must all feel really new.”
Corinne gave a brief laugh, emphasizing the understatement. “I’m not used to company. Or danger. Or changes of scenery. I have vivid, distant memories of my childhood—a nursemaid, a playroom full of wonderful toys, a bed with lacy covers, delicious bowls of chilled fruit floating in cream—culminating with my father smuggling me away in the night. He brought me to a tree in the swamp to visit my great-aunt Madeline. The rest of my life happened somewhere beyond the opening to that tree. Every memory begins when I exit the tree and ends when I enter it. I remember some conversations with my father from my younger days. Then he stopped visiting. I remember conversing with my great-aunt. One memory begins with me dragging her lifeless body out of the tree. I didn’t even know how she had died, until I found the note I had written to myself. Thereafter my only memories pertain to performing exercises with my sword and reading books.”
“I can barely imagine,” Rachel said.
“I dreamed of escaping for years,” Corinne sighed. “Now that I’m free, I can hardly believe it. Part of me had begun to suspect I would grow old and die on that muddy little island. Everything has changed so quickly. I barely know how to feel. This might sound silly, but I somehow expected that when I finally did leave the swamp, it would mean the end of my troubles. Father would take me home to a happier, more meaningful life—the hard-earned reward for my patience. I never expected this.”
“If it’s any consolation,” Rachel said, “I never expected anything like this either.”
They picked their way across a rugged stretch; then the route became smoother and their pace increased. Rachel found herself perspiring and breathing hard. How had the others done this all night? No wonder Jason had looked so tired.
When the sun came up, Rachel paused to stare at the glorious horizon. Beams of sunlight shot through the clouds at dramatic angles, throwing dazzling highlights over the landscape. “Is it always so beautiful?” Corinne asked.
Rachel realized that the vegetation in the swamp would have blocked out sunrises and sunsets. “It’s an extra-good one,” Rachel replied. “But they’re usually pretty nice.”
They hurried onward. After hiking through a long, shallow ravine, they found Aram waiting for them, his ring-mail shirt and heavy cloak bundled with his sword. Ferrin called for a halt, perhaps because he had noticed that Corinne looked ready to faint. Rachel felt bad for her. No matter how much Corinne had practiced with her sword and otherwise tried to stay active, it would be tough to get much cardio when trapped on a tiny island.
While they rested in the shade of an outcrop, drinking from waterskins and catching their breath, Nedwin shouted from a distance that Drake was returning. Within a few minutes, they could hear the horse, and soon Drake rode up on Mandibar.
“I’ve spotted our enemies,” Drake said, urgency in his tone. “At least forty horsemen riding hard, and another large company of riders coming from farther off.”
“How close are they?” Galloran asked gravely.
“We’re much closer to the pass,” Drake said. “I could only spy them from a high lookout miles from here. But in shameless defiance of the treaty, they’re on the main road and riding hard. They’re trying to beat us to West Gate.”
“We have to get there first,” Galloran said.
“That or hide in these foothills,” Drake said. “I know the region well.”
Galloran shook his head. “If they block us from the pass, with a lurker after us and with Maldor adding more soldiers to the hunt, we’ll not stay hidden long.”
Drake scowled thoughtfully. “You really think the Amar Kabal will remain idle if Maldor brings a major force to their doorstep?”
