Rise (War Witch Book 1) (16 page)

Night had fallen by the time people began to wind their way home, their bellies full, and their vision blurred from too much wine. Tables that had been carried out into the street were left to be picked up later, as the torches lining the street began to burn low. Crickets sang from the darkened corners, lulling the people of Rheumer off to sleep.

Ramora waved to all who headed away as Chara drifted by her side, nodding in and out of sleep. Though Kate had always refused to let her drink before, that night, she’d made an exception, and the young woman was half gone to the spirits.

Near them, Talbor drained his cup and patted his stomach, belching loudly, which drew a look of annoyance from the warrior. He shrugged and settled back, content to let her think what she would. It was rare he got to attend feasts thrown by mortals in honor of the Gods, and he’d fully enjoyed it.

Across from the two women, Daniel watched the Ascended with a grin, shaking his head at the inappropriate attitude of the demigod. He’d always held a certain reverence for those who served the Gods directly, and had learned the last day that they could be as average as he. It made him feel closer to the deities who guided the fates of all who lived.

A ways off, on the porch of the inn, Diem spoke softly with Kate, who looked less than pleased. Ramora could imagine little would make that one happy, save having her daughter pregnant by the butcher’s boy. She’d met him during the feast, and while it was true he was a kind and gentle soul, his soft stammer, shy demeanor, and fumbling had made it clear to her why the fierce Chara had no interest in him.

Only a man, or woman, as strong as her would ever be able capture the young woman’s heart. Ramora rather envied whoever they were, for as Chara drifted and wobbled in her seat, she had to admit she cared for her more than a little. She would miss her when she left, more than she could put to words, even if she’d been able to.

Reaching out to ease the girl’s head onto her shoulder, Ramora chuckled silently as Chara drooled, smiling broadly in her half-slumbering state. Glancing over at Daniel, she got a shrug from the young man, as if to say that was simply how his sister was.

A moment later, Diem approached, grinning at his daughter before motioning to the Blessed, saying, "If I may, Ramora, a word with you."

She nodded and rose, easing the young woman off her, only to rouse her enough she noticed her own state and fumbled to wipe her chin. Patting her on the shoulder, Ramora followed Diem back to the porch, where an anxious Kate waited, foot tapping in agitation.

"I hope you'll forgive me asking a favor of you after all you've already done for us," the old soldier said, wrapping an arm around his wife. "But I'm hoping you'll do us one all the same."

With a nod, Ramora gestured for him to continue, already knowing there was nothing the man could ask of her she wouldn’t grant.

With a deep breath, he looked to Kate, who frowned and wiped her eyes, making Ramora wonder just what he could possibly be about to ask. "When you go, in search of this man you seek, would you at least consider taking Chara with you?"

Stunned, Ramora admitted there might be one thing after all she could refuse.

Seeing her hesitance, Diem said quickly, "I know it's a lot to ask, but the truth is, we know that Chara isn't content to stay here. Sooner or later, she's going to run away, or travel to Adel and not come home. There's nothing we can do about it, and I guess we'd just rather have her be in the company of someone who can protect her."

Uncertain, Ramora looked away, pondering their request, and found Talbor leaning against the railing of the steps, grinning. Beside him, Chara stared up at her parents, eyes wide with disbelief, and hope.

Jabbing a finger at the Ascended, the warrior silently accused him of orchestrating this.

"Oh, come now," he whined. "Just because I suggested it doesn't make it my idea, or my fault!"

Folding her arms over her chest, she gave him an irritated glare.

"Well, maybe a little, but you have to admit, it's not a bad idea," he muttered, managing to look ever so slightly ashamed.

Shaking her head, Ramora turned to Kate, waving her to speak. Surprised, the woman looked first to her husband, then her daughter. Turning back to the Blessed, she nodded slowly.

"I don't like it; I won't lie. However, Diem is right. Sooner or later, she's going to run off. If she's to go, at least in your company, much as I hate it, she'll be reasonably safe."

"Mom?" Chara gasped. "Really?"

"I'd rather you stay here and marry Hale," Kate snapped, and then softened. "But I guess I'll just have to learn to live with that being something I dreamed for you. You should go, Chara, and find what makes you happy."

Flying up the steps, she wrapped her mother in a tight embrace, extending it to her father a moment later. Ramora sighed, leaning against a support post, and shook her head, giving Talbor another annoyed look.

"Pish, posh, Little Sister," he said, easing up next to her. "You'll need someone who can speak for you. Otherwise, you'll never get anything done. I'd rather you tend this matter quickly, so you can return home, where you belong."

Ramora shook her head again, still uncertain, until Chara turned to face her, hazel eyes bright with hope. Her warrior heart melted and, reluctantly, she nodded her agreement.

Before she could react, the young woman had her hugged up, holding her tight, showering her with thanks. Somehow, a smile made its way unbidden to the warrior’s face as she gathered the young woman in her arms, and held her.

The two slept easily, and deep that night, wrapped in each other’s arms.

"Ramora, wait up," Diem called as he hobbled down the steps of the inn.

She paused in her final check of the horses as the old solider reached her, giving him a mildly amused look as he stretched his knee. The look he returned her was less humorous, making her snicker silently.

"I remembered," he told her. "Where I saw that dragon banner you showed me."

The mirth fled her face as she took him by the shoulders, eyes pleading. Calmly, he reassured her as Chara exited the inn, dressed in leather riding pants and a loose cotton shirt, a satchel slung over her shoulder. Taking the steps two at a time, the young woman all but ran to join them, her mother and brother trailing her.

"Back in my soldier days," Diem said. "My unit went up to Cybalt to do some practice missions. Part of the whole alliance the two Kings have, you see. Helped us work together in times of emergency."

Ramora waved him to get to the point.

"Anyway," he said, seeing her impatience. "We were sent to patrol the foothills of the Ice Mountains, along Cybalt's border, my unit and one of theirs. We got caught up in a snowstorm, and after wandering half a day, came upon a sorcerer’s tower."

A frown darkened the warrior’s face. She had little respect for sorcerers, knowing the truth of their history that many in the Middle World had forgotten.

"Thanks to the storm, we ended up being stuck there for several weeks," Diem continued. "Kind man, the sorcerer, though I can't recall his name now. Very gracious host. We spent the time reading in his library for the most part, and I remember now I saw that banner in one of his books. I forget which one, or what it was about, but I'm sure that's it."

Giving the old man a smile, she clasped his hand, thanking him. It wasn't much, but it was a lead.

"Mind yourself, though," he added. "The fellow had a mighty big Werecat as a bodyguard. Polite enough, as Werebeasts go, but intimidating as all the Hells."

Ramora knew full well how the Werefolk were made in the Middle World, the blood magic sorcerers used to bring them to life. Just as she knew the often cruel way they treated the souls they’d stolen to act as their servants. Her frown spoke volumes.

Diem shrugged. "That's all I can remember, but this was a good thirty years ago now, so I can't even say if he's still there. You know how sorcerers are."

Nodding, she agreed she did. Regardless, it was a place to begin, and that was more than she'd had till now.

Looking to Chara, the warrior priestess motioned to the horse they’d acquired for her, getting a bright, cheerful smile in return.

"Ready when you are," she all but giggled.

"Forgetting something, are we?" Diem asked.

"Oh," Chara gasped before giving him a hug. "Sorry."

"And your mother," he added.

She bounced away, embracing both Kate and Daniel, promising them she would come back as soon as she could, and tell them all about what she’d seen. Diem couldn't stop the grin that slipped over his face, even if he’d wanted to.

"One last thing, Ramora," he said, looking back to the warrior. "Promise me, now, that you'll look out for her. Keep her safe."

Ramora grasped his hand and held it firmly, bobbing her head. She couldn’t say the words, but she felt them, and hoped he knew. She vowed, before Kalis, Goddess of Oaths, that Chara would see her home and family again
.

Soon, the two were mounted, guiding the pack horse as they began their journey towards the Ice Mountains, in search of a sorcerer who may hold the key to leading them to the man who’d taken everything from Ramora. Chara waved goodbye to her family, as they did to her, until the village vanished behind the hill the two women had first spotted it from five days earlier.

"No matter what, Ramora," Chara said as the town vanished, "I'm here for you."

Smiling, the warrior nodded, happier to have her than she’d have guessed.

Rakiss watched them from behind a tree, smiling eagerly.

"Now, we can begin."

The Sorcerer’s Keep

STANDING ATOP
an outcropping of rock, Ramora scanned the horizon, shielding her eyes against the cold wind that blew constantly, and the blinding glare of the snow. The passing clouds overhead created a landscape of moving shadows in the foothills of the Ice Mountains, a treacherous one that only the most experienced ever attempted to traverse.

Spotting a tall stone marker that rose from the white expanse she sighed and nodded to herself. At least they were still on the road, more or less. Though there had been, as yet, no sign of any tower that was home to a sorcerer. She was beginning to despair that he had died, or moved elsewhere in the years since Diem and his fellow soldiers had taken refuge there.

Turning, she eased her way back down the rise, the heavy furs she was wrapped in flapping as the ice-coated wind gusted anew, howling to her. She scowled under the hood that wrapped her face, wondering why the wind got to speak when she couldn’t.

Reaching the bottom of the outcropping, she trudged through the almost knee-deep snow, rejoining Chara and the horses on the old wagon trail. Ramora shook her head, making the young woman slump slightly atop her horse, before looking around the frozen hell they traveled.

Pausing by her, Ramora squeezed her leg, hoping to offer her some comfort. She knew she was only going to give it a couple more days before turning them back. The going was getting far too dangerous, and if they weren’t careful, they would become a permanent part of the landscape.

Reaching down, Chara gripped her hand through the heavy mittens she wore and waved on ahead. Nodding, Ramora moved to climb back on her mount. The young woman wanted to press on a little longer as well, despite the danger. Together, they urged the horses forward, plowing ahead.

 It’d taken them two months of steady travel to reach the small Cybalt controlled trading town of Riskine, where they’d picked up cold weather clothing, trading their horses for more sturdy ones that had been bred to thrive in the frigid northern climes.

While Ramora had waited for her odd assortment of coins to be calculated again, Chara had spent time visiting the soldiers stationed in the town, asking after a sorcerer’s tower to the east. To her disappointment, none could help her, few of them having journeyed that far out.

Frost Giants had made it clear in recent years that they didn’t like humans encroaching on their territory, and despite the King of Cybalt's best efforts to reach out to the Children of Rajan, they’d stated that any more incursions would be met with violence.

Dejected, Chara had stopped at a tavern to buy a meal, where she waited for the Blessed to join her. Approached by the barkeep due to her long face, she’d explained her troubles to him, and received a surprise for her efforts.

The old tap master had once been a soldier, and part of the mission her father had told them of. He remembered Diem, even after all these years, and knew about the sorcerer’s tower as well. By the time Ramora arrived, the kindly old man had sketched a rough map for them, happy to help the daughter of the man who’d saved his life.

Ramora had given that a doubting look, but according to him, had Diem not kept pushing them all, they would’ve fallen to the cold and never found the tower that saved their lives. With a smile, he paid for their meal and gave them a room to sleep in as well, for which Ramora was thankful.