Call of the Herald (18 page)

The magnificence of the hall left her
awestruck, and she wondered what kind of person would sit on such a
throne. How could anyone not have felt tiny and insignificant in
this enormous display? She pictured herself in that high seat, and
seeing herself sitting there in her leathers and homespun made her
smile. Thoughts of Osbourne and the others, though, soon banished
all humor.

The chasm bisected the wall above the relief
like a gaping wound, and Catrin desperately wanted to reach it. She
tried to gauge the distance from the ledge that ran along the top
of the relief to the bottom of the gap. It was at least three times
her height, and she knew she would never be able to jump that far.
There didn't seem to be any other way out, so Catrin decided to
inspect the wall above the great mantle.

Climbing onto the throne, she hoped the
ghosts of whatever kings may have occupied it would not be offended
by her trespassing. The relief was easy to climb, its worn image
providing an easy grip. She hated to climb on that ancient beauty,
but it was unavoidable. The wall above the ledge was rough hewn,
like that of the throne, and it bore many scars and cracks. Running
her fingers over it, searching for any notches she could use during
her climb, she was disappointed to find no suitable handholds
within her reach. She needed something to stand on.

The suit of armor on the far side of the
throne was in fairly good condition, and she approached it
apprehensively, halfway fearing it would come to life and attack
her. It remained still, and she ran her hand along the breastplate;
it was pocked and corroded, but it still had much of its tensile
strength and mass.

Weight was a problem. She would be able to
carry only so much while climbing. Knocking on the side of the
helmet, she found it was quite solid and pulled it free from the
rest of the armor, marveling at the craftsmanship. Even covered in
dust and grime, she could see it was beautifully done, and she
hated that she was going to use it as a stool.

Climbing the relief with one hand was out of
the question. She considered tossing the helm onto the ledge but
feared the noise. Finally, she decided to wear the helmet. After
cleaning out the inside with her shirt, she gingerly pulled it over
her ears. It was too big for her and flopped from side to side
whenever she moved her head. Her vision was partially blocked, and
the smell was most unpleasant, but she endured the discomfort and
made her way to the top of the relief. She set the helmet in the
most stable position possible, and after a deep breath, stepped
onto it with one foot. Slowly, carefully, she put her weight on it
and brought her other foot up to rest on the best toehold she could
find.

The toehold was not so good, but it took some
of her weight off of the helmet and allowed her to extend herself.
At the top of her greatest reach, she felt a knob of rock. Hopeful,
she climbed down and slid the helmet perilously close to the end of
the ledge. When she stepped back up on it, the helmet shifted and
nearly upset her balance, but she caught herself in time.

The protrusion above was wide but not well
enough defined to provide a firm grip. Frustrated, she used her
belt knife to chisel around the top. The tip of the knife snapped
off, and she cursed her luck, promising herself that her next belt
knife would be more like a pickaxe.

Using what was now the blunt point of her
knife, she fell to work on the stone. What remained of the blade
was not as sharp, but it was thicker and stronger, so it had become
a better tool for the task. She worked in a precarious position,
perched on the helmet and overextended, but she landed several
solid blows on the rock. Chips of stone and sparks flew before her
determined stabbing.

With her handhold more defined, she began the
perilous climb in earnest. She had to expand a few chinks while she
clung to the wall, and her energy was nearly spent by the time she
reached the large crack, but getting to it gave her a burst of
energy. Grappling her way to the base of the opening, she found it
difficult to enter. The bottom was too narrow for her to fit
through, and her feet scraped against the rock below, unable to
find purchase.

With an effort born of desperation, she used
her arms to heave herself into the crevice. Dangling in what was an
extremely uncomfortable position, she rested her quivering arms.
Breathing heavily, she remained there for a few moments before
pulling herself the rest of the way in. Catrin knew how close she
had come to falling, but her curiosity won out over fear and
physical exhaustion, and she moved on.

The crevice continued for a short distance
before it opened into fresh air. Catrin made her way to the
opening, and she felt moist, chilly air on her face. The sight
below terrified her: a sheer drop of several hundred feet was all
that stood between her and the valley floor. She realized she was
now on the opposite side of the mountain. Edging herself out of the
opening, she craned her neck to see how far she was from the
crest.

It looked as though she might be able to
climb it, and she knew she could not descend the cliff face safely.
Gathering her strength, she climbed to the top of the crevice.
There were large foot- and handholds, and the opposite wall of the
cleft gave her leverage. The ledge above the crevice provided a
commanding view of the Pinook Valley, and Catrin saw the sun for
the first time in many days.

Columns of smoke, far to the north, rose into
the sky. It did not look like a forest fire, and the recent rains
reduced that possibility even further. A cold feeling crept into
her stomach as it occurred to her that she was seeing the smoke
from hundreds of campfires. Her gut told her that an army
approached from the north.

She felt naked and exposed on the side of the
mountain, especially knowing the men who captured Osbourne might
have been army scouts and they could still be looking for his
companions. Though she didn't think Osbourne would tell them
anything, the supplies and bedrolls in the cavern clearly indicated
he had not been alone. She simply had to trust her luck and hope
she would not be seen, but she was not optimistic.

From atop the crevice, she had a better view
of her climb to the peak. It didn't look easy, but it was certain
to be a great deal easier than her escape from the throne room.
Having no desire to remain in the open, she began to climb. The
incline was fairly gradual, and she walked much of the way.
Occasionally she had to get on her hands and knees to make it
through a tough spot, and in several places, she had to climb over
large rock formations that stuck out of the mountain. From her
higher vantage point, the rock face below resembled the edge of a
huge crater, as if some god had taken a bite out of the
mountainside.

When she gained the crest, she flattened
herself down against the rock and crept along to look into the
Chinawpa Valley. Trying to take advantage of the excellent view,
she searched for the cavern entrance, but she had lost her bearings
and was unsure how it would look from above. A small ridge sloped
gently down the mountain face, and she decided to follow it to the
base. About to stand, she caught movement in her periphery.
Flattening herself further, she turned to look.

Nothing stirred, but she remained as still as
stone. Fear paralyzed her when two figures emerged from behind a
rock outcropping. They were south of her but near the top of the
ridgeline, concealed by the shadows, and they seemed to be trying
to stay in the darkness. Catrin froze and tried to become
invisible. When the forms stopped and turned in her direction,
tears came to her eyes and her lip began to quiver. She saw one
motion to the other then point in her direction. Escape was
unlikely, and she decided she would rather throw herself from the
cliff face than be captured.

Standing quickly, she turned to make her
desperate retreat. She had taken only three steps when some
instinct made her look behind to see if she was being pursued, and
she nearly shouted out for joy.

Benjin and Chase emerged from the shadows,
waving their arms at her.

Stopping in midstride, she nearly fell.
Rushing to meet them halfway, she hugged each of them and asked,
her voice trembling, "Osbourne?" She was shocked to see both of
them smile.

"He's fine," Chase blurted, unable to control
his excitement. "Strom and I saw the soldiers approaching the
cavern, and we sneaked in behind them. They were busy tying up
Osbourne, and we caught 'em by surprise. We used the rocks we had
by the entrance to kill one and knocked the other one out," he said
matter-of-factly. "Benjin got back late last night," he added.

"We'll talk about this later," Benjin said.
"Right now there's an army approaching, and they have two scouts
who haven't returned. They look to have been a few days ahead of
the army, but they'll soon be missed. Let's get back to the
cavern."

Catrin swayed on her feet when she realized
the second set of shadowy forms she had seen had not been soldiers
at all; it had been Strom and Chase. Had she stayed a moment
longer, she would have seen them rescue Osbourne. All the fear and
pain she experienced in the past day had been for nothing. She
began to cry as she realized she could have just climbed back onto
the raft and poled herself safely back to camp.

"Are you all right, li'l miss?" Benjin asked,
looking her over for any signs of injury.

"I'm fine," she replied, but the tears of
mixed joy and frustration kept flowing.

Chapter 10

Security is the blindfold worn by those who
cannot accept the uncertainty of the future.

--Mundin Barr, speculator

* * *

One of the soldiers lay supine near the fire,
still unconscious, and Benjin seemed to think there was little
chance he would ever wake. They hoped he would regain consciousness
soon so they could squeeze some information out of him. For the
moment, though, he would give no more information than his deceased
companion. Catrin did not want to know what they had done with the
body of the other man, so she didn't ask. The thought of Chase
killing someone, even to defend himself or a friend, seemed so out
of character with his gentle nature that she blocked any image of
that from her mind.

Not far from the lake lay a new raft made of
many saplings that had been hastily bound together with rope and
vines. When Strom saw her looking at it, he walked to her side. "I
was coming to look for you," he said. Catrin felt tears filling her
eyes, and in a rare moment, Strom put his hand on her shoulder.
"Come on. Let's get something to eat."

Seeing their provisions, still intact,
brought a wave of relief; she had feared it all lost to the
attackers. It was odd that she had gone a relatively short time
without food, yet she felt as if she had not eaten in weeks. It was
as if the time she'd spent thinking about starvation had had a
physical effect on her. Though she was able to eat only half of
what she took, she kept the rest nearby for when her appetite
returned; its very presence brought her comfort.

Benjin filled her in about his journey. "Let
me first say that I believe your father is well and is adequately
defended in the cold caves. Miss Mariss is also faring well, given
the circumstances. I was unable to get information regarding
Osbourne's family, and the only information I got about Chase's
father was that he was last seen with Wendel. I'm guessing he's in
the cold caves as well.

"Miss Mariss said Wendel led many people to
the cold caves, and once inside, they blocked the entrances with
rocks and hastily laid mortar. As far as she knew, they are
continuing to build up the blockade even as the Zjhon remove it,
but that process is slowly forcing them farther back into the
caves. Others fled to the protection of the Masterhouse--far too
many to be comfortably housed there. Riots broke out when the
Masters began strictly rationing food and water since their
supplies were not plentiful enough to support such numbers," he
said and stopped to consider his next words.

"There is a bit of good news and more bad
news. First the bad news: Peten Ross was captured and forced to
talk. Peten told them he thought Catrin was the Herald and about
the day Osbourne was attacked. He also described each of us, as
well as a few others, in great detail. He told them that Strom,
Chase, and I had mysteriously disappeared, and he thought we had
run to hide in the mountains with Catrin," he continued.

"The good news is also bad news. I guess I
failed to mention that. The Zjhon know who you are, what you look
like, and that you are most likely not in the Masterhouse or the
cold caves. Because of this, they have changed their strategy. Now
they only wish to contain the people who are trapped and use their
numbers to scour the rest of the Godfist looking for you. This'll
take much of the pressure off of those who are under siege, and
there should be less loss of life. The bad part, of course, is that
they'll be combing the mountains looking for us."

Catrin shivered and pulled her knees to her
chest as the weight of his words settled into her consciousness.
The Zjhon wanted only her. Maybe if she gave herself up to them,
they would leave the people of the Godfist alone.

"There is another part of this story I've not
told you yet," Benjin said. "I must stress how very important this
is. You are being entrusted with sacred information that you must
never reveal. Can you all promise me that you will never reveal any
of what I tell you to another living soul?"

They all nodded solemnly.

"Miss Mariss told me things she was strictly
forbidden to tell anyone not of the Vestrana." He paused and looked
at each of them solemnly. Catrin tried to remember where she had
heard the word
Vestrana
before, but all she could recall was
some talk about a secret society that was shrouded in mystery.