Inheritance

Lynan’s stomach knotted itself into a painful mass and his mouth went dry. He tightened his grip on the knife and found himself wishing fervently to be somewhere else— back on the cliff face for example. The bear was soon directly under the tree, obviously confused that the scent was once again lost. Before it could look up, Ager, screaming the ear-piercing battle cry of the Kendra Spears, leaped from his perch onto the beast’s back and drove his dagger straight between its shoulder blades. At the same time Kumul dropped in front of the creature and slashed at its head, cutting it across the snout.

The bear reacted immediately and with astonishing agility for something its size. It roared and swung round in a wide arc. Kumul caught the full force of the bear’s weight and was flung away like a rag doll, his weapon spinning out of his hand. Ager slid down the spine of the bear and landed on his rump, his dagger still stuck between the creature’s shoulder blades. It turned again, looking for Ager, its jaws opening in a wide gape, blood streaming from its wounds. In doing so, it came directly under Lynan’s branch and he dropped onto its back, using all his strength to drive his knife into the tough hide where neck met shoulders. The blade hit bone, skidded off. The bear shook its head, throwing off Lynan as easily as it had dislodged Ager.

Jenrosa had also left the tree by now and hurried to Kumul’s side. The bear saw the movement and charged toward her. Seeing her danger, she swung up her weapon, catching the beast another blow across its snout. The bear screeched, lashed out with one foreleg, and connected with Jenrosa’s skull, sweeping her aside.

Lynan shouted in rage when he saw the magicker struck down, and he lunged forward, thrusting his knife into the thigh of one of the bear’s massive rear legs. This time the point found muscle rather than bone and it sank deep. Dark, warm blood spurted over his arms and face. The bear lifted its wounded leg and kicked. Lynan dodged the blow, darted in again to retrieve his weapon and struck again. By now Ager had caught his wind and he leaped again onto the bear’s back, pulling out his blade and plunging it a second time between the shoulder blades. This time he found an artery. The bear reared up on its legs, tottered for a second, blood pouring from its mouth, then fell forward and was still.

For a moment there was silence. Lynan dared not move in case the bear suddenly came to life again. The aftershock came soon after; his hands and thighs began to shake uncontrollably. Ager came to his side and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Well done, Prince Lynan. Are you hurt?” Lynan shook his head. “Then see to Jenrosa, and I’ll check Kumul.”

Lynan went to Jenrosa and knelt down beside her. A wide, vicious-looking cut ran raggedly across her forehead. Blood streamed down her pale face and into her sandy hair, turning it dark. He tore off a piece of cloth from his own shirt and pressed it against the wound. After a while the flow of blood was staunched. He lifted the cloth carefully and inspected the wound. A large purple welt surrounded the cut. He put an ear to her mouth and listened to her breathing. It was slow but steady.

He was joined by Ager and a battered Kumul, carefully rubbing his left arm.

“How is she?” Kumul asked.

“Unconscious,” Lynan answered. “The blow was a heavy one. At least the bleeding has stopped. I think she needs a surgeon. How are you?”

Kumul shrugged, winced in pain with the motion. “At worst a cracked rib or two, at best I’m badly bruised.”

“I can make a sling for you,” Ager told his friend. “As long as you don’t use your left arm, you should heal quickly enough.”

Kumul nodded at Jenrosa. “And her?”

“She needs a surgeon,” Lynan repeated. “There are towns in Chandra not far from this ridge. We’ll have to take her to one of them.”

Kumul and Ager said nothing, but the expression on their faces said enough.

“She needs help!” Lynan argued. “You can see that for yourselves!”

“We can’t risk it,” Ager said grimly. “If we go into a town, someone is bound to report seeing us, and then we’ll have a company of Royal Guards in pursuit, probably led by someone in Dejanus’ pay, if not Dejanus himself. What do you think will happen to Jenrosa if we are apprehended?”

Lynan looked down, knowing the man was right, and hating himself for knowing it.

“Look, lad, we don’t know the injury is that serious,” Kumul said gently. “Jenrosa could be up and about in an hour. Her only chance—our only chance now that we’re back on land and so close to Kendra—is to keep moving and to stay away from places where we’re likely to be recognized. If her injury’s serious, I think Jenrosa would rather be in our hands than the enemy’s.”

“We’ll have to carry her,” Ager said matter-of-factly. “She may not come around for a while.” He used his knife to hack two long branches from the golden fan and tied his and Kumul’s cloaks between them, then he and Lynan carefully lifted the magicker onto the crude stretcher and placed her own coat over her to keep her warm.

“Kumul can’t help in his condition, and we’ll soon tire out moving her by ourselves,” Ager told Lynan. “So one of us will drag her along. We’ll have to move slowly, though, especially going down the ridge.”

“There are many streams at the bottom,” Kumul said. “We can stop at one of them. We will need water and rest and should hide during the day.”

“I’ll go first,” Lynan said, lifting up one end of the stretcher. Jenrosa’s weight sank in the middle, keeping her in place. Her face was white and pinched, but the cut on her head was dry now and her breathing was still regular.

They started off slowly, Ager leading the way, Lynan in the middle pulling along the stretcher, and Kumul last. The dark made it impossible to always to pick the best course, and they frequently had to backtrack to find an easier route, especially for the first few hours when they were still climbing to the top of the ridge. Every hour Lynan and Ager took it in turns to pull the makeshift sled.

By dawn they had reached the northwest foot of Ebrius Ridge and saw spread out before them the farmlands of Chandra. Fields covered the land to the far horizon in a patchwork quilt of rich greens. Here and there, meandering streams, isolated woods, and small villages broke up the pattern, and over it all shone the light from a strong summer sun.

It was mid-morning before Jenrosa made any sound at all, and then it was only a soft murmur. Her eyelids fluttered restlessly but remained closed.

“I think her color’s returning,” Lynan observed hopefully. “She’s definitely looking better.”

“I don’t know how you can tell with all those freckles, but I’d look better, too, if someone had just carried me for ten leagues,” Kumul said dryly.

They were following a narrow dirt track that led between fields of growing crops. Ager was scouting ahead, keeping his single eye out for any strangers or soldiers, as well as a safe site for their next break. Whoever had made the trail had thoughtfully planted tall wideoaks along it to provide shade, and the air was filled with the sound of singing birds and calling crickets.

“On a day like this, it’s hard to believe that anyone would want to kill us,” Lynan said sadly. “In fact, it’s hard to believe that anyone in the world is in trouble.”

“Don’t let your imagination get carried away, your Highness. You’d bleed just as red and die just as easily on a day like this as you would on any other. If you need reminding, look behind you and think how Jenrosa’s probably feeling.”

“Do you think she can hear us?”

“I’ve no idea.”

“She is looking better, you know.”

Kumul only grunted. Ager appeared up ahead at the top of a small rise. He was running toward them in his rolling crookback stoop. When he reached them, he was out of breath and red from exertion. “There’s a troop of mercenaries up ahead. They’re still a league from here, but we haven’t much time. There’s a stream over this rise. We can hide among the vegetation along its banks.”

Ager grabbed the other end of the stretcher and they moved as quickly as possible, Lynan telling his weary muscles to hold out for a while longer. By the time they reached the stream, a narrow ribbon of cool clear water, they were panting heavily and their hearts were beating like drums on a racing galley.

The trail crossed the stream at a narrow ford and continued on the other side of the bank, ascending gently to another rise. On either side of the stream there grew drooping spear trees and busy wideoaks. The companions made their way downstream into the thickest part of the gallery, carefully maneuvering their burden. They had barely enough time to hide themselves behind branches and two fallen rotting trunks before the troop arrived, ten riders, their fine gear jingling as the horses trotted down to the ford. Lynan cursed silently when they stopped at the stream to let their horses drink. The two nearest them were complaining about being taken from their billets at a local village.

“I was getting on fine with that widow who owns the farm by the dairy,” one said. “She needs a good man to help her run the place. Another few weeks and I’d have been cashing in to take up life on the land.”

“I didn’t know you were so keen on dirt and weeds,” said the other.

“Better than war and death.”

“What war? Grenda Lear ain’t been at war for fifteen years or more.”

“I got ears. I heard the sergeant talking to the messenger who came yesterday and Haxus was mentioned often enough. Besides, we’ve got a new king, remember? There’s bound to be trouble now that Usharna’s dead. All the kingdom’s enemies were terrified of her.”

“Berayma will teach them to be terrified all over again, mark me.”

“Aye, and that’s my point—”

“All right, keep the chatter down,” said an authoritative voice from the other side of the ford.

So rapt had he been in the troopers’ conversation that Lynan had completely forgotten about his charge, and he started when Jenrosa let out a low moan of pain. He quickly clamped a hand over her mouth, making sure he left her nose free to breathe, but it was too late. The nearest trooper looked alertly in their direction, then turned to his friend.

“Did you hear something?” he asked.

“No,” the other said, not really interested. He had pulled down his breeches to piss on the bank.

“I said to keep the chatter down!” complained their leader.

“But I heard something, Sergeant!”

“Probably a vixen with cubs,” the sergeant replied gruffly. “And we haven’t time to dawdle. We’re expected in Kendra by nightfall.”

The trooper’s face drooped sourly, and he mounted his horse. “I’m sure it wasn’t a fox.”

His friend pulled up his breeches, mounted and drew along side him. “Perhaps two young lovers, eh? Not everyone’s in a hurry. Just think about your widow and the trail ahead. No point in pissing off the sergeant.”

By now their fellows had already left the stream and the two friends had to spur their horses to catch up.

Lynan was about to move when Ager grabbed him by the arm. “Wait,” he whispered. “The talkative one may double back for another look-see.” A few minutes later, when no one had reappeared, Ager released his grip and nodded. “All right, it looks like we’re safe.”

Lynan took his hand from Jenrosa’s mouth; she mumbled some words, but he could not make them out.

“She’s talking,” he said excitedly.

“She nearly talked us into a grave,” Kumul said tartly.

“If what those troopers was talking about is true and not rumor,” Ager said, “we won’t be able to take the most direct route to the Oceans of Grass. The highways and rivers will be busy with soldiers and supplies pouring into major cities.”

“But there was no talk of war after my mother’s death,” Lynan said, puzzled.

“More likely Areava’s just being cautious,” Kumul said. “She should expect some trouble on her borders, especially with Haxus to the north. So she would call in the nearest soldiers and send them out by sea.”

“Or, just as likely,” Ager added, “start a war to divert attention from the goings-on in Kendra. Three rulers in as many weeks is bound to cause a stir with more than the kingdom’s enemies.”

“Then what route do we take?” Lynan asked.

“That’s going to take some thought,” Ager admitted. “For the moment, I suggest we find a place where Jenrosa and Kumul can recover. We can’t keep on like this, two of us struggling with a stretcher. We’ll finally get caught out in the open. We need a new plan and time to think it through.”

“But where?”

Ager looked around him. “This is as good a place as any. We have fresh water and there’s fish in the stream. The trees will provide cover and shade, and we can keep an eye on troop movements from here.”

Lynan nodded. “All right. I can’t think of anything better.”

Kumul pointed upstream. “We’d better move first. We’re too close to the ford, and we can keep an eye on it just as easily from another hundred paces farther upstream and be in less danger of discovery ourselves.”

They fashioned rough tethers out of green twigs from a spear tree, and even rougher pegs out of wideoak, using them to construct a reasonably waterproof shelter by gathering together branches and pinning their ends to the ground. By using twine unthreaded from his cloak and a thorn from a nearby whip tree, Ager made a clumsy but nonetheless usable fishing line. They risked a fire that afternoon, cooking Ager’s whole catch of small fish in one go. The next day, Lynan and Ager took turns to reconnoiter the area while the other attended Jenrosa. Lynan had dressed the wound on her scalp as best he could and kept it clean, and was relieved when no infection set in. At first, she would eat nothing, drink only what was dribbled between her lips, and made hardly a sound. On three occasions she mumbled more words, but still they made no sense. Around noon, she regained consciousness, to everyone else’s great relief. They made a fuss over her, offering her water and a little fish and some berries Ager had found on one of his explorations; she gratefully ate what she could but fell asleep soon after. Her color was almost normal, however, and Lynan was sure she would be up and ready to move within a few days.

By now Kumul felt well enough to take his turn to look around the local area. His ribs were obviously not cracked after all. His side was still bruised, but he could move his arm freely, though with some pain. On the second night of their stay, the three men gathered to discuss their next move. “Between us, Kumul and I think we have devised the best way to get you to the Oceans of Grass and the Northern Chetts,” Ager told the prince. Lynan nodded for him to continue. “Twenty leagues to the north lies the Forest of Silona, a thinly populated and well covered area that will protect us from prying eyes for the next stage of our journey. The forest is nearly sixty leagues long, south to north, and will take us several days to get through.”

Lynan could not help notice Kumul’s grim expression. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Kumul sighed. “I have heard stories about this place.”

“A soldier’s tale,” Ager said dismissively. “Maybe, but most soldiers’ tales have a kernel of truth.”

“What stories?” Lynan asked.

“The forest is left alone by people who live nearby,” Kumul said. “It is a dark place, an old place, inhabited by foresters who have little liking for company. I have only seen it myself from a distance, and it still made my blood run cold.”

“We’ve discussed this,” Ager said angrily. “We both know the real risks. The forest is our best chance to make up distance and time and still go undetected.”

Kumul nodded resignedly. “I know. I have no other plan.”

Lynan was distinctly unsettled by the conversation, but he told Ager to continue.

“Once on the other side of the forest, we are fifty leagues from Sparro, Chandra’s capital. From there we can find passage on a boat going up the Barda River to the Ufero Mountains. After crossing the mountains we can reach the Strangers’ Sooq—the main trading town between the Cherts and merchants from the east.”

“How many days will it take us to get to the Oceans of Grass if we go this way?” Lynan asked.

Ager glanced at Kumul, the scars on the skin over his dead eye looking like crevasses in the wan moonlight. “We think it will take as long as four weeks. If everything goes well, we may cut that down to three. If things go badly, it could take as long as five or six weeks.”

“Is time no longer of the essence, then?” Lynan asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course it is,” Kumul answered shortly. “But Ager and I agree it is the quickest way for us to get to the Oceans of Grass without being captured. There are safer routes, perhaps, but they would take several months.”

“And, again, it is to be my decision?”

“Yes.”

“So if I insist we continue with the original plan, you will not argue with me?”

“No, but we may not follow you. We can’t speak for Jenrosa, but at the moment neither can she.”

“This leadership is a hollow thing, I think,” Lynan murmured bitterly.

Ager pulled gently on one ear lobe. “Your Highness, leadership is not hollow, it is two-edged; too many regard it as a privilege and not a responsibility. I’ve suffered too much at the hands of those who misuse it.” He looked up and saw Lynan’s expression. “No, lad, not your father, but I’ve served under other generals, not to mention a bounty of ship’s captains.”

“I will follow your advice.”

The two older men nodded solemnly.

Jenrosa woke again that night. She was confused and did not have the strength to sit up without assistance. She ate willingly, listened patiently to Lynan as he described what had happened since the bear had struck her down, but fell asleep again before he could tell her about the change in their plans.

“It’s all right,” Ager assured him. “There’ll be time to tell her everything when she’s fully recovered. When she wakes tomorrow, she’ll probably remember nothing of what you’ve told her tonight.”

“But she’ll be all right, now, won’t she?”

“Now that she’s climbed out of her deep sleep, I think so. I admit, I was afraid she would die on us without ever coming to. I’ve seen it happen before.”

Ager lay back and closed his eyes. Lynan sat in the darkness of their makeshift shelter, Jenrosa’s head in his lap, listening to a chorus of frogs from the stream’s banks. He could also hear the soft footsteps of Kumul outside, restless as a tiger. Absently, he stroked Jenrosa’s hair and wondered what her life had been like before he and his problems had set it astray. Were her parents still alive? Did she have any brothers or sisters? Suddenly it was important for him to know.

He was aware his feelings for Jenrosa had become stronger since their escape from the palace, but what those feeling were, exactly, left him confused. He had never before felt so protective about someone. He was attracted to her, but the emotion churning inside of him involved more than his desire to bed her.

And what of her feelings for him? Her attitude had been standoffish, even resentful, and this hurt him. She said she did not blame him for her predicament, but there was no doubt it was his fault she was now on the run, her life in constant danger. However, he could not help being glad she was in exile with him, nor help feeling guilty that he should be the cause of her unhappiness.

And her injury, he reminded himself. What if she dies? It would be his fault.

He had no answers to his questions, and they filled his heart like a great leaden weight.

The next day Jenrosa tried standing. She managed to walk a few paces before falling back into Lynan’s arms. Ager had been right about her memory, but Lynan patiently recounted everything a second time, adding the change in plan.

“I wonder if I’ll ever get back to Kendra,” she mused aloud, and Lynan felt a pang of homesickness also. “I don’t have any choice but to go along, do I?”

“The kingdom’s soldiers can’t look for us forever. When things quiet down, perhaps you can go back to a life in one of the cities or towns.”

“But not Kendra.”

Lynan shrugged. He did not know what to say.

“I don’t know how fit I am to travel,” Jenrosa said, “but I’ll try not to slow you down too much.”

“We can wait here for a day or two more,” Ager said, “but not much longer. We’re pushing our luck by staying in one place for so long. Eventually, some local will notice our smoke or stumble across our shelter.”

“The most dangerous part of the journey will be from here to the Forest of Silona,” Kumul said. “It’s all open farming country, and we’ll stick out like trees in a desert. So rest well now, for when we start, we must move quickly.”

They never got their extra day. The next morning, soon after the four had eaten a light breakfast, Lynan accompanied Jenrosa as she tried to exercise, intending to walk her to the ford and back. At first her feet were unsteady, but by the time they had reached the ford she was walking normally if more slowly than usual.

“How do you feel?” Lynan asked her.

“Like someone’s inside my skull trying to break out with a hammer. If I move too quickly, I think my head will explode, and all my joints turn to jelly. But I’ll survive.” She turned and smiled at him, touched by the look of concern on his face. “I hear you saved my life.”

Lynan blushed. “It’s my fault you’re involved in any of this at all. The least I could do was stop you from being killed.”

Jenrosa laughed at his words, then groaned and held her head between her hands. “Laughing hurts, too. It’s ridiculous, isn’t it…”

There was a sound of approaching feet from the other side of the stream. Lynan glanced up, expecting to see Ager or Kumul. Instead, he saw an armed man dressed in stained brown leather and carrying a long sword. Lank, shiny black hair fell down to his shoulders, and wide brown eyes stared at them eagerly from out of a round, pockmarked face. The warrior gave a triumphant yell and charged the two friends, swinging his sword over his head.

Both Jenrosa and Lynan reached for their daggers, but it was too late to do anything effective against their attacker.

The warrior was only two paces from them when Kumul charged into him, hurling him violently into the stream. Kumul’s momentum carried him forward and he tripped over the stranger, but he quickly scrabbled to his feet. He turned to face the warrior, but he was lying down in the water, unconscious.

“Get back to the shelter!” Kumul roared at his two friends. “Tell Ager to hurry!” He bent down and retrieved the stranger’s sword.

“Kumul—” Lynan began, but Jenrosa yanked hard on his arm.

“For God’s sake, do as he says! Come on!”

Even as Jenrosa spoke, four other men, dressed and armed similarly to the first, came running over the rise. They skidded to a halt when they saw Kumul standing astride the ford, their fallen companion at his feet.

Lynan pushed Jenrosa away from him. “Go on!” he shouted. “Get Ager!” Without waiting to see if she left or not, he ran back to Kumul, stopping behind him because the ford was not wide enough for them to stand side by side.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Kumul hissed at him.

“I’m not running away,” Lynan replied, sounding more determined than he felt.

“And what do you think you’ll do with me between you and the enemy? Stab at them with your knife between my legs?”

“If I have to.”

“You’d better be bloody sure of your aim, lad,” Kumul said grimly.

Having decided that four against two was reasonable odds, even if one of them was halfway to being a giant, the soldiers on the rise started moving forward.

“Don’t be fools,” Kumul warned them, his voice almost paternal. “Do you really think any of you can take me on?”

The four hesitated, glancing uncertainly at each other, but then continued their advance.

“I wish I could brag with Ager’s conviction,” Kumul whispered out of the side of his mouth.

“I was convinced,” Lynan confided.

Kumul laughed, and this made their opponents even more uncertain.

“Hang this. We can’t afford to let any of them get away. Do you think you can take out one of them if I provide you with a sword?”

“Sure.” Lynan’s voice sounded a little too high for his liking. “Maybe two.”

“Just worry about one to start with.”

The strangers arranged themselves into a line and were about to start across the ford when Kumul sounded his battle cry and charged forward, scattering them back, two of them tripping over. Kumul jumped over them to reach the bank, sidestepped to the right and swung his sword at the startled soldier in front of him, the blade cutting into the man’s head just above his left ear. There was a sickening crunch, a fountain of blood, and the man collapsed. Kumul picked up the man’s sword and threw it grip-first to Lynan.

Lynan caught the gift and enthusiastically engaged the other soldier left standing, only to find his task harder than Kumul’s. His opponent was a better than average swordsman, and although Lynan’s training gave him the edge, he was used to the weight and feel of his father’s sword. His blade flickered and slid against his enemy’s in a search for an opening. He heard combat resume behind him as Kumul defended himself against the two remaining soldiers who had now regained their feet.

Desperation fueled Lynan’s attack, and he found the extra speed he needed to parry a thrust from his opponent and send the point of his own sword into the soldier’s throat. The man gurgled and fell backward, his hands clasping hopelessly over his fatal wound.

Lynan spun on his feet and charged into the melee around Kumul, screaming something he hoped sounded bloodcurdling.

One of the enemy turned to face him but had to retreat under the barrage of blows Lynan directed against him. The soldier lost his balance and slipped forward, straight onto Lynan’s sword. Lynan twisted his weapon out from between the man’s ribs. By then Kumul had dispatched the last of the enemy, and stood panting over him, his arm covered in blood.

“That was a good fight,” he said admiringly. “They were better than I thought they would be.”

“Who were they?” Lynan asked.

“More mercenaries. When they saw you and Jenrosa alone out here, they probably thought they’d have themselves a little easy money, and perhaps some fun with the woman.”

“Will there be more?”

“Almost certainly. They were probably a scouting party out to find a place to camp for their company, probably half a day behind. We’ll have to hide these corpses and get moving.”

There was a sound behind them and both men turned quickly, swords raised.

“You could have kept one for me,” Ager said. He was accompanied by an exhausted looking Jenrosa.

“They were too eager,” Kumul said matter-of-factry.

“You’re wounded,” Ager observed, pointing to the big man’s bloody arm.

“Kumul!” Lynan exclaimed in concern. He assumed the blood had belonged to one of the dead mercenaries. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“I did,” Kumul replied. “I said ”That was a good fight,‘ and then I said…“

“That isn’t what I meant.” Lynan could not hide the exasperation in his voice.

“It isn’t serious, your Highness, or I would have mentioned it.” He looked up at Ager. “I was a mite slow. My side’s still a little stiff.”

“You may not think it’s serious, but you won’t be lifting a sword for a few days,” Ager said, carefully examining Kumul’s wounded arm. “Lynan, go to a sword bush by our camp and take Kumul with you. Pick some of the leaves and bruise them between your hands, then rub them vigorously into Kumul’s wound.”

Kumul turned white. “Oh, no. I’ve had that done this to me before, when I received a cut to my left leg, and I still remember the pain!”

“And you still have your left leg. Now go with Lynan.” Ager turned to Jenrosa. “And you need to rest. We’ll have to move on as soon as it’s dark, and you’ll need all your strength.” He surveyed the four corpses. “At least now we’ll all have swords.”

“They’ll have had horses,” Kumul said. “We can’t use them ourselves if we want to remain unnoticed, but we can’t leave them wandering around here.”

“I’ll lead them a couple of leagues farther up the trail,” Ager said. “Now go.”

The three moved off as ordered. Lynan remembered the first mercenary, still alive but unconscious. He turned to warn Ager, in time to see him lift the head of the mercenary in question, stick the point of his dagger in the man’s throat and pull it with a savage stroke. There was a tearing sound, a great gush of blood, and that was it. Ager looked up and for a moment locked eyes with Lynan, and for the first time the prince saw loathing and pain in them.

Shivering, Lynan turned around again.