Second Stone (11 page)

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Authors: Kelly Walker

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BOOK: Second Stone
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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Truths and Lies

Garith stood in the entrance of the tent, watching Jessa receding into the darkness of the night. He shook his head, trying to clear away the mental picture of Jessa covered in blood, her face twisted in tortured self-doubt. If only Riya were there, she’d have known more about how to help Jessa. Her face looked so broken, and Garith really had no idea what he was supposed to do.

“Keep guard of him, I’ll be back in a moment,” he said to the two guards.

Walking farther away from the tent, he found more soldiers milling about. “Did anyone find anything else of note while searching the rest of the camp?”

A soldier shook his head. “Nothing. We’re still looking, but so far it looks like only the two. I was just coming to report.”

“Good.” Garith looked off into the distance, as if maybe the easy answers would just appear. “Search the one who broke into their tent. See what you can find.”

“Do you want us to burn it? The body, I mean.” So Jessa’s attacker had died, as Garith had expected he would. Garith felt no sense of loss.

“Burn it?” Garith arched an eyebrow.

“It’s what we would do if it were our own man. I believe Sheas would set him afloat down the river, though, and we are in Sheas.”

Garith sighed. Yet another thing for him to decide. In Eltar they buried bodies, giving them back to the soil. Whose traditions should he follow?”

“Burn him,” he commanded. “He died at the hands of Thalmas, so we’ll do as we would have done had he dared try and attack us at the castle. He forfeits consideration for his own customs. Besides, I am not sure that he is from Sheas anyway.”

“Are you ready for the scouts to come report, sir?” The soldier asked.

“Shortly. Get them food and a warm bed. This night grows long, and I’m sure they’re as tired as I. Take their information, send them to sleep, then return to me. I’m trusting you to be thorough with this task, you understand?”

“You can count on me, sir!” The soldier stretched tall with pride.

The two soldiers keeping an eye on the prisoner watched him expectantly as he walked back into the tent. Garith trudged forward, stopping when he was just in front of the man, who upon closer inspection was really more of a boy. Gods, he couldn’t be more than fourteen or fifteen.

“Do you want us to find someone to interrogate him for you?” One of the guards asked, apparently taking note of Garith’s hesitation.

“No. I’ll do it.” If he didn’t do it himself, he’d lose any small amount of respect that he’d managed to build up.

“What’s your name, son?” Garith asked in a conversational tone as he crouched down in front of the boy.

The kid’s oily, dirt-streaked brown hair hung in front of his eyes. He cut a glare up through his fringe at Garith and then spat at his boots.

“It’s not a hard question. What’s your name?”

The boy sullenly remained silent.

“Your buddy is dead. He was killed by a girl. A maid. My friends here, they’ve itchy fingers. If you don’t wanna join him, start talking.” While he was talking, Garith freed a pouch he’d spotted hanging from the boy’s belt. His fingers closed around something circular and solid. He pulled it out and glanced at the gold pin in the palm of his hand. Two broken but tentatively connected halves of a circle, welded together. So they
were
Separatists. Fantastic.

“Did Russell send you?”

The boy’s head jerked up. “You know Russell?”

“I do. I stayed with his group for a while. I left because I saw him for the uninformed idiot he is. His entire group is based on fear.” Garith tried not to remember how Russell had even made him begin to doubt Emariya’s loyalties.

“Russell isn’t afraid of anyone!”

“Then why is he so determined that a mere girl needs to die? How scary can she be?” Garith smiled, trying to picture Riya as scary.

“She’s gonna bind the Stones—she’ll kill us all.”

“Do you really believe that?” Garith kept his tone low and soothing.

“Russell says it’s true.” The boy’s voice quivered.

“And does Russell
always
tell the truth?” Garith had begun to wonder if anyone ever told the truth all of the time. Maybe Jessa, if anyone.

“He said it’d be easy. All we had to do was slip into the camp and kill two people, and then our families would be safe forever. That’s all.”

“And yet one girl—a mere maid—killed your buddy. Still sound so simple?”

The boy bit his lip. “Is my brother really dead?”

The dead boy was this kid’s brother? Garith sighed. “I’m afraid so.” Unwelcome sympathy fought with his anger. True, the boy had been manipulated, but he’d entered Garith’s camp with the intention of slaughtering his best friend while she slept. His renewed anger armored him against the boy’s pitiful stare.

“Are you trying to bind the Stones?” Almost all of the venom had left the boy’s eyes; now he just looked lost.

“No.”

Frowning, the boy said, “But the prince is going to marry the Warren girl.”

“But they haven’t wed
yet
. Because they want to learn the truth of the Stones first. And they are trying to stop her brother from binding the Stones for the sake of simply doing it. If you’d killed them, you’d have caused exactly what you say you want to prevent.”

“Russell didn’t tell me that.” The boy looked skeptical.

“Russell doesn’t know everything.” Garith placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, trying to appear wise and fatherly.

“Oh, and you do?” The boy glared again.

“Not even close, kid, not even close.” Garith stood up. What was he supposed to do now? They weren’t equipped to keep a prisoner. He didn’t want the child to report back to Russell, but he couldn’t just kill the kid, either. Jessa killing the other boy hadn’t been murder, regardless of what she thought. If he killed this kid, though, it would be. The guards were staring at him, waiting for his command.

By The Three, he hoped Torian returned soon.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Best Laid Plans

The slope below them was much steeper than they anticipated. It didn’t give Emariya and Torian much of a chance to talk as they allowed the horses to carefully pick their way down the mountainside. Torian’s memory proved true: no one could reasonably approach from this side.

Her grandparents insisted she take one of their horses since Torian had carried her to them on his. She’d tried to protest, afraid she’d leave them struggling, but they assured her that they would be fine with the two others they had. They kept an extra in case one went lame.

The little bay they’d given her wasn’t as surefooted as her trusty white filly, but she made do. The horse stumbled a few times, but so far she’d managed to stay in the saddle.

“I think maybe we should walk for a bit,” Torian called back to her over his shoulder. “It’s even steeper ahead.”

Emariya frowned. She was still exhausted and much weaker than before. Determined to press on, she didn’t want to stop, but truly wasn’t sure how much walking she would be able to endure. “All right.” She sighed. If they walked, they were less likely to get to the camp before nightfall.

Torian slid of his horse then walked back to help her dismount. She allowed herself to lean against him for a moment as he set her on the ground.

“I can carry you, if need be,” Torian said with a playful grin that almost hid his worry.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I’m serious, Emariya. Don’t overtire yourself. We can stop for the night if we need to.”

Emariya shook her head. She wanted to get to the camp as soon as possible, despite being terrified of what they might find.

As they walked, picking their way carefully across the rocks, Emariya kept a tight hold on his hand. Unlike their last trip walking across steep terrain, where she had been determined to prove her independence and self-reliance, now she was more than happy to allow him to help support her.

For a while they traveled in silence, both keeping company with their own thoughts.

Emariya broke the quiet first. “Are you afraid because of the vision?”

“Absolutely. I’m really hoping the battle hasn’t already happened. Although, if it did and we won, that would be good.”

Emariya clarified. “No, I mean are you afraid in the general sense? I know you didn’t want to inherit your father’s visions.”

“Yes and no.”

“What is it that scares you?”

“I don’t want to lose myself, and my reality, to the possibilities the visions present. But you’ve given me hope, by how you were able to help my father. Maybe it wouldn’t be as terrible as I always thought it would be.”

“Maybe.” Emariya tried not to think of the possibility of losing Torian to his visions. She suddenly had greater sympathy for the queen.

“I’m worried about having visions so soon.”

“What do you mean?” Emariya asked.

“From what I know, visions don’t usually show up at my age. I thought I didn’t need to worry about it until I was older.”

“Do you think it’s because of us being together? Maybe there is some amplification from the Stones?”

“I doubt it.” Torian squeezed her hand.

Emariya dropped into silence as they walked. Was being with her putting Torian at greater risk for losing his sanity?

Torian seemed to sense her train of thought. “I don’t know that it is from us being near each other. My father and sister are both Stones, remember? Being around only you, I’m actually less surrounded by Stones than usual.”

“Maybe it’s not the sheer number of Stones, but the types of Stones. Maybe my Roth and Warren blood is amplifying yours.”

“We really don’t know, so don’t worry over it. Please?”

“All right,” she agreed and tried to put it out of her mind. She couldn’t help thinking that they seemed to find more and more reasons they shouldn’t be together and an absence of reasons that they should. Other than the fact that they loved each other, of course, but was love enough to justify it?

“Emariya Warren, I mean it,” Torian said severely, jerking her attention out of her thoughts. “I don’t care one bit about ‘should,’ ‘shouldn’t,’ ‘would,’ or ‘couldn’t.’ I want nothing more than to be with you forever. I won’t accept any less.”

She smiled despite herself. “I want that, too, Torian,” she said.

“You know,” he said, “I never fully apologized for being so angry.”

“You had every right to be angry.” Emariya chewed her lip thoughtfully. This was a conversation she hadn’t been looking forward to.

“Perhaps. But I should have been more understanding. Losing Terin… It’s showing me how you must have been feeling, losing your brother in a sense. And after losing your father and mother, too. I can understand you being torn between love and loyalty for your brother, your people, me. I can’t really say that I truly know how you feel, but I suspect it’s pretty awful.”

The emotion welled in her throat, sealing off any words that might have come. She nodded her thanks and squeezed his hand. Her brother… Her mother… Their failings were a truth she’d have to face in her own time. She wasn’t sure that time was now. But soon—soon she wouldn’t be able to avoid the unpleasant thoughts any longer.

––––––––

Emariya’s hand felt so frail, but yet so right in his. Torian was determined never to let her go again. He silently berated himself for the things he’d said about his visions and the Stones. It didn’t take much to realize that she was worrying that her presence was bringing him to harm.

The mountains rose on both sides as they picked their way toward the valley below. At least she was letting him help her this time. A tiny smile forced its way to his face as he remembered helping her through the mountains near Witch’s Falls. She’d been so stubborn that day.

“What was it like, being stuck in your sleep?” he asked, voicing the question he’d been pondering all day.

“Dark. There was mist everywhere. I could tell that I wasn’t really anywhere. Sometimes Mother was there; sometimes I was alone.”

“It sounds terrifying,” Torian admitted.

“You know that moment when you first wake up when you are sort of awake but sort of not? When the world hasn’t quite come in focus yet and everything is hazy?”

“Mmhmm.” Torian did.

“It was kind of like that. Except, I guess, closer to asleep than awake.”

Was that how it would be to have visions more often? Would he be trapped in a sight he knew wasn’t real, but that he knew could someday be real, unable to bring the here and now into focus? Would he be trapped in his own mind, too?

“Could you hear both your sleep-world and this world?”

“Sometimes,” she answered, causing Torian to blush. He fervently hoped she hadn’t heard his emotional rambling and pleading at her bedside.

“What?” she asked, peering at him from under the hood of her cloak.

He shook his head.

“Come on now—what?” she pushed, not willing to let it go.

Torian held firm. They’d both be better off if she didn’t realize just how much he needed her and just how broken he’d be without her.

In the distance the sun was setting, casting the final light of the day behind the trees in the distance. At least they had almost made it to the base of the slope. “I think it would be fine for us to mount up again here. The horses shouldn’t have much trouble. If we hurry, we can reach the bank in a few hours.”

––––––––

Torian’s estimate of a few hours fell short, but long after the night settled to blue-black darkness in a starless sky, Emariya spotted the fires in the distance.

“I think that’s the camp,” she said breathlessly, glancing at Torian for reassurance. “You don’t think…”

“I don’t think it’s the Separatist camp. I’m pretty sure it’s our Royal Army.”

“What if the Separatists have already been there? What if the battle’s already over?” Emariya brought her horse to a stop, suddenly afraid to get closer from fear of what she might find.

“There’s only one way to be sure, but I don’t think so. This doesn’t look right. It’s not the bank from my vision.”

Digging his heels into his stallion’s flank, he hollered to her, “Come on!” and they hurried forward.

As they rode toward the largest of the fires, the soldiers milling about the camp began a chorus of similar reactions. First their eyes grew wide, and then they tried to hide their smiles as they dipped low into respectful bows.

A small, familiar form darted between the bowing soldiers, blocking their horses’ way. As Emariya slid from her borrowed horse, he caught her up in the biggest hug one could imagine from such a scrawny boy. “Lady Riya!”

“Oh, Rink,” Emariya said into his hair. “Shh—what is it?” She wiped a tear from his freckled cheek.

“I was afraid you might not wake up, you might not come back! My mom went to sleep and then never woke up, and I was afraid you wouldn’t wake.” It was more personal than the boy had ever been.

“All right, come now. It’s all right.” Emariya smoothed his hair off his forehead. “Where are Garith and Jessa?”

Rink looked up at her with an incomprehensible look. “You’d better come with me. I wasn’t supposed to leave Jessa, but I heard you were back, so…well, just come.”

Emariya looked to Torian, knowing he’d want to find Garith.

“Why don’t you go with Rink, get Jessa, and we can meet back in the command tent?” he said.

“All right.” She didn’t like the idea of being apart, even for a moment, but it seemed the best option.

“I know,” he mouthed at her. “Soon.”

It helped a bit to know that he shared her anxiety at being apart. Soon, maybe they could settle in somewhere and stop being constantly on the move.

––––––––

Torian stood briefly frozen in place, watching Emariya walk off with her arm around Rink.

“Your Highness, would you like me to take you to Commander Garith?” a nearby soldier asked.

Torian jerked his thoughts away from Emariya and tried to concentrate on the business at hand. “Yes, at once. Is he in my tent?”

“No, Your Highness. When we made our camp here, he strung a few tents together, making a formal command tent. Said he didn’t feel comfortable using yours any longer.”

It was a great idea, one Torian wondered why Commander Plank and himself had never thought of. It would be extremely convenient to have a central gathering point for planning and organizing that was separate from his own sleeping tent.

While they walked, Torian questioned the soldier on the status of things in his absence. “How has the camp been? Do the men respect Commander Garith like they respected Plank?”

The soldier seemed hesitant to respond. “Well, not exactly, no.”

“Go on, explain.” Had he made a mistake when he’d left Garith in command?

“Quite honestly, Your Highness, we respect him more.” The soldier looked away uneasily as they continued toward the newly erected command tent.

More. Huh. “How come?”

“He gets us. He listens to us, and, well, I don’t rightly know, but things have been mostly smooth, Your Highness.”

“Glad to hear it.” Torian dismissed the soldier and stepped into the tent.

Garith raised his head, peering at him with weary eyes. “Your Highness!” Garith hurried to stand.

Torian could barely believe his eyes. In the few days since making the camp, they’d felled trees. Actual trees, albeit small ones. A rough log table with stumps for seats sat in the middle of the tent. His map was spread upon the table.

He didn’t waste time on praise or pleasantries. “Report.”

Garith nodded curtly. “We’re here.” Garith indicated a spot on the map just below the Upper Fork. From the reports of the scouts—”

Torian interrupted, “Scouts?”

“Yeah, when we settled here, I sent out Leil and two scouts. One scout was to check this way, the other that way. Leil is running communications between them and us. Oh, and a scout is trailing a bit behind us, as well.”

“Impressive. So, then, what did they report?” Torian marveled at Garith’s initiative.

“The Separatists are set up here.” Garith showed Torian a spot just below the river with a thick cover of trees. Exactly where Torian had thought they might cross.

“You’re sure it’s there?” Torian cocked his head to the side, thinking. It was the logical place for them to cross, but it wasn’t where he had seen the battle in his vision.

“Yes, positive.”

“What do you see as our options?”

Garith gave Torian a measured look. “I think we turn the tables.”

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