Preserving the Ingenairii (15 page)

Chapter 12 – To Trust the Lacertii

           
When Alec awoke, he found himself in a crude campsite in the woods, where several strange people were tending to camp duties.
 
“He’s awake,” a woman called, and stepped over next to him and knelt.

           
With a start, Alec realized that Armilla was placing her hand on his shoulder to keep him prone.
 
“Take it easy, majesty,” she said as she looked closely at his eyes.
 
Alec was stunned to realize he had not recognized any of his companions.

           
“What happened?” he asked.
 
“Where are we?”

           
“We’re in a camp about five miles away from the ruins,” Armilla answered.
 
“Durer went down into the crypt after you didn’t answer, and we hauled you out of there, bloody wrist and all, and we rode down the trail to put some space between us and that place.”
 
Others in the group were gathering around, looking at Alec.
 
“You’ve been asleep for almost a day now.
 
It’s good to see you awake,” Armilla finished.

           
Alec felt a strange prickly sensation, one that seemed both internal and external.
 
“How close are we to the river?
 
I want to take a bath,” he said as he stood up.
 
He ambled down the bank and jumped into the chilly mountain water, scrubbing himself vigorously through his clothes for several minutes,
then
climbed out.
 
He felt something clinging to his chest under his shirt, and reached in to pull it out.
 
The amulet was on a chain around his neck.

           
Alec remembered then what had happened: the fall into the crypt, the ghostly apparition, pulling the amulet off the skeleton.

           
The amulet that had driven his group to this far corner of the mountains was now in his hand.
 
He looked at it closely.
 
Incredibly fine details were etched in the gold circle that was smaller than his palm.
 
Around the edge of the circle were a variety of shining jewels, no two exactly the same color; there were at least two dozen, perhaps more, bordering the face of the amulet.
 
In the center was a tree whose leaves were formed from bright emerald chips, seemingly alive with their brilliance and their appearance of swaying in some unfelt breeze.
 
On the back of the gold was written an elegant script, whose words read, “All ways lead to the tree of life and all energy comes from the axis mundi.”

           
Something in the words resonated deeply in his soul as Alec tucked the amulet back beneath his shirt.
 
“Is everyone ready to ride?” he asked as he returned to the camp site.
 
“We have a long way to go.
 
Chanradala is at least eight days away, and we’ll have to ride somewhere beyond there,” he said as he hurriedly rolled his sleeping blankets and strapped them on the back of his saddle.

           
“Do you know where we’re going now?” Patrick asked.

           
“What?” Alec asked, turning around with a confused look on his face.

           
“This Chandra…place; do you know that’s where we’re going?” the Goldenfields soldier asked again.
 
He saw the continuing blank look on Alec’s face.
 
“You just said it would take us eight days to get there.”

           
“I don’t know what you mean,” Alec said.
 
“I don’t think I said anything.
 
But Chanradala is the lacertii capital city; Rosebay told us when we were with her.”
 
He climbed into his saddle as the others exchanged looks, and they began riding south.

           
Several minutes later, as the squad rode briskly along the narrow trail, Brandeis pulled alongside Alec.
 
“You did tell us it would be eight days to Chanradala, and you said it like you knew exactly what you were saying,” he said cautiously.
 
“Were you thinking out loud?”

           
“I don’t know.
 
I don’t know where Chanradala is, or how long it will take to ride there.
 
It doesn’t make sense,” Alec pondered.

           
“Maybe it was just the after-effects of something in the ruins?” Brandeis suggested.

           
“Maybe,” Alec half-heartedly agreed, uneasy over the inexplicable event.
 
They rode on for the next two days, returning past the splendid waterfall and descending downward with the river as it fell away from the mountain heights.

           
Three days later after riding long hours, they arrived back at Riverside, among the ruins in the late afternoon’s long shadows.
 
“I don’t want to spend a night near these ruins.
 
Let’s head east,” he pointed, and they turned their tired horses to ride up the long incline and away from Riverside’s crumbling buildings.
 
They slept that night at the top of the slope, and in the morning saw the sun rise in the east, with no tall mountain ranges interceding on the horizon.

           
They began riding early the next morning, pressed by Alec’s urgency, and rode along a narrow road, overhung by majestic trees.
 
The road rose and fell with the ridges and valley it followed on a winding eastward trip.
 
As the sun reached high noon, Alec was about to suggest a stop for lunch, when he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder and fell from his saddle.
 
There was sustained shouting going on around him and the horses were screaming as well, trampling around, threatening to step on him.

           
Alec groaned and tried to roll, but felt resistance and further pain.
 
He reached around and found an arrow in the back of his right shoulder.
 
Cautiously, still feeling tremendous pain, he rose to his knees and stood.

There were gray-skinned lacertii soldiers all around them, and Thomis laid on the ground with an arrow in his chest.
 
“Stop!
 
We surrender,” Armilla was shouting, as she saw the hopelessness of the battle against the much larger lacertii forces.

“We come on a peaceful mission,” she shouted again, and the sound of swords clashing died down.

“Who are you?
 
Why are you sneaking into our land?” a lacertii officer asked, stepping in front of his men as he motioned for them to disengage.

Armilla looked around at Alec momentarily, and he raised his left hand.

“We come on a mission of mercy, seeking help,” he said with a grimace.
 
“We wish to meet with the Marchioness Rosebay to ask for her permission to travel further in your lands to one of our ancient holy places.”

“You think you are entitled to speak to the Marchioness?” the officer asked contemptuously.

“Please allow us a moment’s pause,” Alec asked.
 
“I need to check on my man who is down,” he motioned towards Thomis’s still body.

“A good officer should attend to his men.
 
Go ahead,” the lacertii agreed.

Alec motioned to Berlisle.
 
“Get my medical bag off Walnut,” he instructed her, as he approached and knelt over Thomis.
 
He longed to use his powers, knowing that they were beyond use.
 
He examined Thomis closely, looking for a pulse, and finding none.
 
The arrow had struck his heart, killing the young soldier instantly.

“He is dead,” Alec announced, looking up sorrowfully.
 
“He came here peacefully and was ambushed without warning, and now he is dead.

“I was on an assignment that found the Marchioness and released her.
 
We helped her in battle so that she could return to your land and take leadership to end the war against our own people.
 
We never ambushed a peace mission like this,” Alec said angrily.

“You are from the western lands?” the officer asked.
 
“You’re not part of the demon people?”

“No, we’re not,” Alec answered.
 
“We’ve fought a war with them recently ourselves.”

“You need our help to fight them?
 
We cannot offer any help; our own armies are fighting desperately to preserve our nation,” the lacertii told him.
 
“You can save yourself the rest of the journey and go home.”

“We need a different type of help for another problem.
 
It is not a war issue,” Alec grimaced from the pain of the arrow still in his shoulder.

“Put your weapons down,” the officer told the humans.
 
“Warriors relax,” he told his own soldiers, who had remained armed and ready to attack.
 
“Treat your own injury if you can, and then we’ll talk further.”

Alec shuddered at the prospect of treating the arrow wound without his healer abilities.
 
He looked around at his other companions.
 
Delle had a deep slice across his arm, but no others seemed badly harmed.
 
“Armilla, you need to cut this out of me.
 
Take out the bag with the blue ribbon and the one with the green ribbon,” he handed over his pouch of medical supplies.

His bodyguard looked at him in discomfort.
 
“I don’t want to do this,” she replied simply.

“We don’t have a choice.
 
I don’t have healing powers.
 
If we don’t get this out, and treat the wound, it will grow infected,” Alec insisted.
 
“Just cut it out and get it over with.
 
Sprinkle some of the herbs from each of those two bags inside the wound,
then
bandage it up.
 
After that we need to treat Delle.”

Armilla looked at him with distaste, as he pulled his belt knife free and handed it to her, while their companions looked on uneasily.
 
“I’ll help, Armilla,” Brandeis offered, and together the two of them soon were grimly slipping a blade into the back of Alec’s shoulder to release the arrow’s head.

“You take all the fun out of this job,” Armilla chided him as she wrapped bandaging around his joint while Brandeis treated his cousin.

“Yeah, but I keep it exciting,” Alec responded, hoping to cheer her up.
 
Once his wounds were treated, he quickly removed an arrow from the flank of one of their horses, led a brief burial ceremony,
then
addressed their captor.

“We’re ready to proceed.
 
Please take us to see Rosebay in Chanradala,” Alec reported.

“No one may ride on the animals.
 
You all shall walk,” the lacertii officer said as he saw Patrick start to mount his horse.

“But why?”
Alec protested.

“That’s the order,” the officer said curtly.
 
With that, the entourage began walking.

Three days later, they stood in the late afternoon sun, looking out over a large city that rested in a spacious river valley among the low mountains.
 
There had been virtually no conversation between the captives from the Dominion and their escort, and little conversation among the humans up to that point.
 
“Your city is an impressive one,” Alec told the commander of their escort as they looked across the valley.
 
Alec was actually thankful for the escort, as it had allowed them to travel through many villages and settled areas quickly.

“We will escort you to a facility where you will wait for orders to attend the court if the Regent so decrees,” their nameless officer told them.

“How long should we expect to wait?” Alec asked.

“I am not a courtier.
 
I am a soldier.
 
I do not know how long it will take,” the lacertii responded.
 
“You have been well-behaved, and I will do my best to make sure the information about your request is passed along,” he hesitated,
then
spoke further.

“I will ask that you be allowed to keep your weapons while you are at Chrimsabbra,” he added.

As they rode down through the city, the lacertii in the streets stopped to stare at the humans being escorted through their neighborhoods, right up to the moment when they stopped before a massive set of gates in the foreboding walls of a hulking structure that appeared to take up several blocks in the city.

To Alec, Chrimsabbra appeared to be a prison.
 
“We will all be housed together, with freedom of movement,” Alec said loudly, setting a condition.
 
He feared the worst would happen, that they would be separated and betrayed, unsure of one another’s fate, unable to help each other.