A Warrior's Path Page 23

  Marui quickly reassured him. “It is alright, Reniu. She just overexerted herself too quickly. The antidote for the meilif-danar poison will cure her, she just needs to rest a bit more. I promise that tomorrow she will feel much better. She can ride with me.”

  The big man seemed relieved. He laid Su-Ni down gently and placed her blanket over her with care that almost seemed comical given the soldier's constant stern expression. He turned to face his captain. “With all due respect, sir, I’m thinkin’ you might’ve been harsh on the girl.

  Komeris raised an eyebrow. “You cannot deny that she has delayed us unnecessarily,” he said incredulously, though his concern was more for the diplomat’s safety than their travel time.

  “If it had been one of us, would you be thinkin' it so unnecessary?” asked the big man seriously.

  “One of you could have easily defeated the creature,” Komeris argued.

  Reniu shrugged. “Never seen a meilif-danar. Never seen a gotori either. Who's ta say how easy it would've been?”

  “Marui,” the captain replied easily, though he did wince at the mention of the gotori.

  “That Shionen's mighty fine with a bow,” Reniu came back. “Better than anyone I ever saw in the empire.”

  Komeris simply nodded.

  About an hour later the scouts were gathered around a rather large portion of venison cooking over the fire. Marui had set about preparing the hide of the skinned deer for curing; she had refused to let any portion of the animal go to waste. Su-Ni slept fitfully nearby, jerking every once in a while away from something that hunted her in her dreams.

  “How're we gettin' through these mountains?” Reniu asked, finally breaking the silence. “How'd they do it so many times in the old days?”

  Marui looked up from the deerskin. “As I have said, there is a path, or there was in the days of my parents' parents. We are currently camped at the opening to that path. It will take us near the southern cliffs of Ikiu'iu, where the ocean beats upon the feet of the rock a long way below. The land along this path is not so uneven. We will have a much easier time traversing it than crossing directly through the mountains themselves.”

  “We will see Uselu'ikio?” asked Denlin, his young eyes wide with wonder.

  “The Big Water should stretch out from the cliffs as far as even my eyes can see,” the elf replied, “but our path may be far from the edge of the cliffs, and the ocean may only be visible from the highest point on that path.”

  Denlin wore a disappointed frown. “Never have I seen the ocean. My father told me he used to fish on the eastern shore years before I was born. I have always wished to see it, but I have always placed my dedication to my studies far above that desire.”

  Komeris, who was sitting nearby, reached over and patted the young soldier on the back. “Well, now it seems that it is those studies that bring you closer to that desire.”

  Denlin looked to his staff, realizing how much he depended upon it. It and his studies had been the driving force throughout most of his life thus far. He grinned. “Yes. Even if I do not see Uselu'ikio on this path, I know that my destiny will bring me to see it someday,” the young warrior said.

  “Pray that it is many years from now,” spoke the usually quiet O'eintsu, “for if it is, it means that we have survived this mission and what is to follow.”

  With that sobering comment, the circle of scouts went silent. The only sound to be heard for some time was the crackle of the fire, the sizzle of cooking meat and the scraping of bone against deer hide.

  * * *

  A small, lone shelter, no more than a single-room cabin, sat among the thick trunks of the wooded area between the Ionotu training field and the castle of Niele'itio. It was far enough into the woods that it was not visible from the road, and its existence was known to few in the city. It was a secret place where General Vethisir could meet with some of his higher ranking officers and where some of those officers could spend leisure time with their women, or with the same woman if that was all they had available. As was often the case, two figures sat in the dim light of a single candle that flickered in the darkness. The purpose for this gathering, however, was neither recreational nor official.

  “It is a great force that rallies around Orbein,” Laernus said in a hoarse voice. His eyes were wide, but whether that was because of his awe at what he saw or the nature of gazing into the inky bowl could not be easily discerned.

  Agucho sat, deep in thought, trying to pick his questions carefully. After several such meetings with the seer, he understood that some things were still too uncertain to be foretold. “How many of my people do you count among that force?” the shapeshifter asked.

  “Many,” was the initial response. Then, “Almost a third,” the seer elaborated.

  Agucho nodded. “Do they walk in the front?” he asked leaning forward.

  “No,” came again a single response, one that relieved the Fiu-Het, but then Laernus again expanded upon his simple answer with, “Most of them take to the sky.”

  The shapeshifter nodded again. “Scouts. Do they come upon anyone?”

  Laernus squinted as if trying to see something very small or far away. “They strike the first blows of the coming battle,” he said.

  Agucho sat back. His lidless eyes felt so dry he thought they might crack. He shot out his tongue and massaged soothing moisture into them. “So, we are to be Orbein's fodder, as I thought,” he said after his eyes were sufficiently wetted.

  Laernus looked away from his gazing and considered the Fiu-Het inquisitively. “Do you so fear for your people?” he asked.

  The shapeshifter regarded Laernus with incredulity. “Of course! How could I not?”

  “From all that I understand about your people, it is Orbein's enemy that should be afraid,” the seer clarified.

  “You understand little about my people,” was Agucho's harsh reply.

  “I understand that the Fiu-Het are very effective at inspiring fear.”

  Agucho let out a loud and hollow laugh. He stopped abruptly and turned a menacing look on Laernus.

  The seer's mind was suddenly awash with horrific imagery of the shapeshifter shooting out several sharp tentacles that stabbed straight through his body and tore him into pieces. He jumped back and shrank into a corner, covering his face with his hands.

  “Effective,” agreed the Fiu-Het, “but those fears are false and temporary. Once a human recognizes the trick, he will not fall victim to it again so easily.”

  Laernus crawled away from the corner, still a bit shaken from the abruptness of the visions imposed by Agucho. He stood and unconsciously patted down his clothing, feeling a bit sheepish about his reaction.

  “Yes, yes, but you must have some ability that will aid you in the battle, aside from this distraction,” the seer prompted.

  Agucho grinned slyly. “Indeed. Need I remind you of your induction into Vethisir's ranks?”

  Laernus scowled. “No.”

  “Our shifting abilities are useful for much more than disguise,” Agucho explained. “In defense as well as offense. A man with a blade is almost useless against a Fiu-Het warrior, unless he is incredibly fast. If the cut from his sword does not sever, the wound will likely heal in very short order. We fear fire the most. Nor do we underestimate the wielder of a club, but again he must be very adept and very swift. Most humans are too clumsy and slow, and we can easily shift our bodies away from their blows.”

  “An impressive skill, indeed,” the seer remarked.

  “Indeed,” repeated Agucho.

  “So, why do you fear...?” Laernus trailed off.

  The shapeshifter shook his head slowly. “Orbein will put us in the forefront of this battle, do not doubt. He will claim, of course, that he is letting us have the pleasure of taking revenge on those that are responsible for the death of Gayossha for ourselves. In truth, he will be protecting his own subjects by sending us to die before them.

  “And we will die, many of us,” he continued
. “It is inevitable in war. I shudder to think what will happen to my home if many of our warriors are dead while Orbein's army is still strong. I do not need your seeing abilities to tell me our future should that be the case.”

  “You intend not to let that be the case,” stated Laernus knowingly.

  Catching the tone in the seer's voice, Agucho considered him with dilating pupils. He was impressed that Laernus had come to understand him so well in such a short amount of time.

  “I do,” was the Fiu-Het's simple reply.

  * * *

  General Vethisir stood in the throne room before his king with an uncertain look in his eye. He had grown accustomed to this expression, and he wore it easily of late when conferring with Orbein. Perhaps a bit too easily. Vethisir cleared his throat and tried to look more controlled.

  “Are you certain you wish to leave so soon, sire?” he asked in the least doubtful tone he could manage. “The winter months soon approach.”

  Orbein sneered at the general. “I am not a fool. I am well aware of the seasons and the order in which they follow one another.”

  “Of course, highness,” Vethisir amended. “I only meant that the men...”

  “The men will march, and they will not complain!” the king interrupted. “The cold weather will keep their pace brisk. If the men of your army are strong, they will perceive no challenge in making it through the southern pass, where not even a single flake of snow has been seen in years. The ocean keeps the winter mild on that path. If there is one among your men who cannot endure such a simple trial, then better that he should die on the road.”

  Vethisir smirked. “There is one,” he said.

  Orbein’s expression darkened even further. “Vethisir, I share your dislike of the seer, but let him be.”

  The general scowled. “So that he may conspire with that sniveling wretch?”

  “Yes,” the king replied easily, “because when they conspire, Agucho gleans valuable information for me.”

  “Forgive me, highness, but how can you trust him?” asked the general.

  The question was met with a wicked smile. “Agucho is my puppet, though he may not know it.” At that comment he stroked a small ring that sat upon the little finger of his left hand. The same makeshift ring he had placed there when he had sent the shapeshifter to the swamp to enlist the help of his queen, except it was now entwined with a thin band of gold.

  “This ring binds his will to my command,” he explained to the intrigued general.

  “Magic,” Vethisir whispered.

  Orbein almost slapped away the general's foolish expression. It was a simple charm for the king, and the technique was far less interesting than the outcome.

  “Yes,” said the king, “I am sending him back to his homeland to bring to us what aid his people can spare.”

  If he wanted to, Orbein could have knocked the general over with one finger. Vethisir moved his lips voicelessly for some time, trying to find some manner of language to respond. He realized that he shouldn't have been so surprised at this news. After all, the king had been hinting at something like this ever since Agucho's addition to the court. The general had been subconsciously denying it, hoping that such a circumstance would never come to pass.

  “How many?” Vethisir managed.

  Orbein shrugged. “We will know when they stand beside you on the field.”

  Vethisir shuddered in spite of his efforts to recover from the shock of the king's declaration. He followed up with the next logical question, “When?”

  The king cocked his head slightly and simply said, “As soon as possible.”

  15. Difficult Lessons

  The small pebble held steady in the air. It was so still that it almost seemed to be a natural fixture in space. Were it not for the fact that it was simply hanging there, with no apparent support, an onlooker could have easily overlooked it. One onlooker was, indeed, taking note with bated breath. He watched with no small amount of fascination and respect as the pebble began to move around in a circle, then in more complex shapes. The tiny stone carved spiraling sculptures of air.

  He felt very much the student then, watching the expert manner in which a tapestry of twisting patterns was woven before him. The ease with which every deft loop was executed impressed him greatly, even though he had seen much of the same thing for days now. He had never learned this so quickly. Of course, he had never had the kind of help this student had now.

  “You demonstrate much control, Swift One,” said Kiusu. He meant the compliment, but he had also spoken to see what effect it would have on the younger man's concentration. When it seemed that it would have none, the old man tried once more. “You’ve become adept at this exercise much faster than I ever did.”

  Urietsin was pleased at hearing the encouraging information, but he kept his excitement in some place far from his consciousness. He would not let himself become distracted. His focus was complete and would not be otherwise until the exercise was over. With a few more helical flourishes, he brought the pebble to rest before him upon the flat surface of the boulder. Then, closing his eyes, the young warrior took a few deep breaths and descended quickly back to his normal state of consciousness.

  Upon opening his eyes, he grinned at his master. “Thank you, seishin,” he said in reply to Kiusu's compliments.

  The old man nodded and returned the smile. “I am truly impressed, although not entirely surprised,” he added.

  “Why not surprised?” Urietsin asked.

  “We all have these abilities deep within us, Swift One,” he explained. “They are natural, but as humans strive to separate themselves from what they perceive to be the untamed wilderness of nature, of our nature, they bury these abilities under the obscuring veil of a mundane consciousness. At one time humans were much like the Shionen, able to conjure up what we have come to call magic at will. It is magic to us because we have separated ourselves from it, and it has become mysterious to us, sometimes even frightening. Few humans still know that these talents are no more mysterious than the ability to see or touch. They are a more direct way of manipulating the universe in which we live than those limited physical functions.

  “I say that I am impressed but not surprised because you are young and still cling to the open-minded innocence of your childhood. You have not yet completely covered up that other part of yourself, like so many others have by your age. There are not as many self-imposed obstacles in your way as there were in mine when I began my training. You impress me because my experience has shown a much slower expectation for progress, but you fail to surprise me because all of our race should be able to do what you have done thus far...and more,” Kiusu finished, hiding no small amount of discomfort. While everything he had just said was true, the old man was stricken with guilt for leaving out what was to him a glaringly large detail: his own part in the Swift One's rapid advancement.

  “More?” Urietsin asked, intrigued.

  The elderly master blinked away his uncertain thoughts and stepped into the stone circle. He reached over and picked up the pebble. He held it before Urietsin for him to see, and with a twist of his hands, the tiny rock seemed to transform into a light, downy feather. A tuft of soft barbs waved as they caught the slightest current of air. Kiusu waited for a few moments and looked as though he were listening for something. Eventually, he placed the feather down in front of the Swift One where the pebble had been only moments ago. Then, with an encouraging gesture, he stepped back out of the circle.

  The air was fairly quiet, but tiny little strands of feather still undulated in the imperceptible currents. Urietsin regarded it, and then Kiusu, with a perplexed expression. “What is the purpose of this?” the young student asked.

  Kiusu shook his head slowly in response.

  “But surely, if I can move a pebble, a feather will be no challenge to me. If I am to progress in my learning, then shouldn’t my exercises become more difficult?” Urietsin said insistently.

  Kiusu shrugged
wordlessly.

  Just then, a breath of wind, no more than a tiny motion of the air, came by. The feather grasped onto the current and rode away. Urietsin stared after it blankly.

  “I suggest you go get it,” the old man said.

  Urietsin jumped up from the stone and took off after the errant feather. He could see it dancing on the breeze several feet away. He caught up to it easily, but when he tried to reach out and grab it, a sudden change in the wind sent it sailing away. He tried this several more times, only to be thwarted again by the cunning zephyr. He was beginning to think that the wind was toying with him when he finally snatched the floating tuft of down out of the air. The Swift One marched triumphantly back to the boulder with feather in hand.

  Kiusu looked amused. “Do you still believe this will be so simple an exercise?” he asked smugly.

  Urietsin stared at his master suspiciously for a few moments, then turned and hopped up onto his perch and sat. Waiting for the air to become still again, he held the feather against the smooth stone surface in front of him. When he could no longer feel any motion in the air, the Swift One let go of the feather and sat straight. He closed his eyes and began to breathe deeply.

  With his student's first exhalation, Kiusu saw the down feather shiver on the waves of air sent out by Urietsin's breath. Within seconds of closing his eyes, the Swift One had sent the feather rolling forward, but not with the power of his mind. When a slight wind began to blow again, Kiusu had to stifle a chuckle.

  Urietsin was not so amused.

  Shortly thereafter, the elderly master left a flustered Urietsin to his exercise. And this time, he truly left him. Kiusu would not help him this time. While the old man feared time as he never had before, he insisted to himself that the young warrior would do this alone, no matter how long it took. He had to have confidence in the skillful warrior. It was not likely that Urietsin would succeed today, but Kiusu knew he would eventually. He had to.