Souls of Aredyrah 3 - The Taking of the Dawn (46 page)

Falyn felt panic stir in her breast, but she
dared not let on. “Very well,” she said, forcing composure into her
voice. “If you cannot help me, I will be on my way.”

The stranger made a bizarre noise, like a
deep primitive rumble in the depths of its throat. Was he toying
with her? she wondered. Her annoyance flared. Well, if that was the
case, she had no time for games.

Falyn jerked the horse’s reins, intent on
heading in the opposite direction, but before she had taken two
steps, the man leapt in front of her, quick as a cat.

The stranger’s features were now strikingly
clear in the orb of the lantern. Falyn took a startled step back.
The stranger was like no creature she had ever seen, nor could have
imagined. He was a young man, tall and muscular, with thick black
hair spiked around his head. His eyes were dark and outlined in
lines of kohl that continued down the sides of his nose, making him
look more feral than human. His lips were painted black, and the
leathers that clung to his barely clad body were beaded with claws
and animal teeth.

The cat-like man looked her up and down, then
reached out and fingered her hair. Falyn’s insides clenched as she
realized what he probably meant to do with her. But then he flashed
her a smile so warm, it was clear he meant her no harm.

A crash sounded through the brush as three
more men dressed in similar attire stepped into the light. Falyn’s
eyes darted amongst them, realizing their expressions held none of
the kindness of that of the first. “Do—do you know where I might
find H-Haskel of the Aerie clan?” she managed.

One of the men, an older one, argued with the
first, but the words he spoke were not a language Falyn had ever
heard. Voices soon escalated as the other two men joined in the
fray, and it was not long before Falyn realized she did not need to
understand their words, their tones were clear enough: They were
arguing over her.

The young man stepped between her and the
others, hissing as if daring them to step closer to the girl now
quailing at his back. Three pairs of eyes glowered at him in
response. One of the men approached him but was met with a shove
and a flash of blade.

Falyn retreated slowly. Blade or no, the
young man now protecting her was outnumbered and likely to
lose.

In a moment of quick thinking, she threw the
lantern to the ground, smashing the glass and sending oil into the
dirt. The oil flared for a moment, catching the men off guard. As
they leapt from the reach of shattered glass and sputtering flames,
Falyn flew onto the horse and kicked in her heels. Screams from the
men ensued, followed by hands grappling at her skirts. She thrust
out a foot, knocking one of them down, then swept past the rest,
daring not a glance back. She plunged the horse into the darkness,
not knowing whether she was still on the road or lumbering into the
forest. But at this point she did not care. All she knew was that
she had to get away from the cat-men, and quickly.

She had not gone far when the horse skidded
and lurched, nearly throwing her from the saddle. Before her, a
huge shape was rising from the shadows. The horse whinnied and
struggled to retreat, but its legs were tangled in a snare of
briars, and all it could do was twist in a heightened state of
frenzy. Falyn yanked the reins and kicked in her heels, but it did
no good. The horse was thoroughly trapped.

The horse screamed and reared on its hind
legs. Falyn clung desperately to its back, but a sudden wrench sent
her sailing through the air. She hit the ground with a thud,
ramming her spine and jarring her skull. She would have groaned had
there been an ounce of air left in her lungs.

Fighting for breath, Falyn felt herself
lifted from the ground. A bristle of coarse fur tickled her cheek
as two massive arms held her against a rock-hard chest. She clawed
against the brute with all her might, but swirling darkness was
sapping her strength.

This is the end,
she thought weakly.
I am about to die. Oh…Dayn…Dayn…

The last thing she heard before she plunged
into oblivion was a deep timbre voice.

“Now whatcha be doin’ out on a night like
this, lass?” it said. “Tis naw safe for a girl such as y’self ye
know.”

****

The thud of boot steps sounded on Haskel’s
porch, sending its inhabitants scrambling toward the door. Alicine
swung it open. “Did you find him?” she cried.

Brenainn shouldered his way in, Falyn draped
in his arms, and made his way to the nearest bed. “Naw, but I did
find this,” he said, laying the unconscious girl onto the mattress.
“She was in a real tizzy. Don’ know what she was doin’ out there in
the middle o’ the night, but—”

“Was Dayn with her?” Alicine asked
anxiously.

Brenainn shook his head. “Saw no sign of ‘em.
But never ye worry. There’s plenty o’ men still lookin’ fer
‘em.”

Morna began to wring her hands. “Oh why
didn’t we realize he was missing sooner?”

Vania put an arm around her shoulders. “Now,
dear, ye know the boys often come in after dark when the huntin’s
good. He probably lost track o’ time and decided to camp somewhere.
He’ll be fine, ye’ll see, and probably cartin’ plenty o’ game with
him when he returns.”

Alicine stepped to the bed and frowned down
at Falyn. She knew as well as Vania did that Dayn’s absence was not
due to a successful hunt.

“Wake her,” Alicine said. “She’ll know where
Dayn is.”

“Do you think she does?” Morna asked.

“Why else would she be here?” Alicine said.
“She and Dayn were obviously planning to meet.”

Morna’s lips compressed. “He was
strictly
forbidden to see her,” she said firmly. “I
seriously doubt he would—”

“Oh, Mother. Do open your eyes,” Alicine
said. “Of course he would.” Alicine shook Falyn’s shoulder roughly.
“Falyn. Wake up, do ye hear?”

Vania rushed over with a damp cloth. “Gentle,
now. She might be bad hurt.”

“She’s going to be worse than that when I get
through with her,” Alicine said. She shook her again.

Vania brushed Alicine aside and pressed the
cloth to Falyn’s brow. The girl moaned and reached a hand to her
head, then sat up with a start. “Wha—where—”

“Where’s Dayn,” Alicine demanded.

Falyn’s eyes darted around, resting
momentarily on the concerned faces staring down at her from around
the bed. “Dayn,” she whispered. “
Dayn!
” She leapt from the
bed, swaying on her feet. Brenainn grabbed her by the shoulders,
attempting to steady her. One look at his burly face and she
screeched in terror. “You—you—”

“Rescued yer tail is what I did. Now tell us,
lass. Do ye know where Dayn is?”

Falyn blinked, seeming to realize she was
safe, at least for the time being.

Alicine yanked Falyn from Brenainn’s hold and
spun the girl to face her. “Where’s my brother,” she said.

Falyn burst into tears. “He’s in Kiradyn. He
was taken by the Vestry.”

“
Taken
?” voices cried.

The front door suddenly burst open and Haskel
stormed in. “I got word ye found an injured girl in the woods,” he
said. Then his eyes fell on Falyn. “By the Maker—”

Falyn ran toward him. “Please. You have to
help Dayn!”

“Help him? Aye I’ll help him—to a good
whippin’,” Haskel growled.

“No—please—you don’t understand,” Falyn said.
“My father—he and the Vestry took him—Dayn’s to be executed at high
sun!”

Morna screamed, then collapsed onto the bed.
She covered her face with her hands and began to sob. Vania and
Alicine rushed forward.

Haskel’s face went gray.
“
Executed
?”

“Yes. Please,” Falyn begged. “He’s to be
burned at the stake. You have to—”

“I’ll gather the men,” Brenainn said,
marching for the door. “I’ll have me Lorcan’s head I will!”

“I’m coming, too!” Alicine said.

“No. Ye’ll stay here with your mother,”
Haskel ordered. He headed to a nearby trunk and threw back the lid,
then lifted out a dirk wrapped in a sheath of dark leather. After
securing it at his waist, he hurried to the door.

Alicine grabbed her coat. “I said I’m
coming!” she said, and marched after him.

“You’ll do no such thing,” Vania said.

“I will! And you can’t stop me!”

Haskel wheeled to face her. “Now you listen
to me—”

“No, you listen to
me
. I have
something that can prove Dayn’s innocence!” Alicine rushed to the
trinket box she kept under her bed and pulled out the amethyst
brooch she had hidden there. She dashed back to Haskel and thrust
it under his nose. “This is evidence that Tearia exists,” she said.
“When the Vestry sees it, they’ll have to believe us.”

Haskel’s eyes widened. Never had a jewel the
size of this one been seen in Kirador, and certainly not one with
this quality of craftsmanship. Perhaps the ornament would prove
Tearia existed, perhaps not, but knowing Lorcan, it might at least
serve as a bribe.

“All right,” Haskel said. “But I’ll be the
one takin' it to the Vestry, not you.”

He reached for it, but Alicine slipped it
down the front of her dress. “Take it from me then, if you dare,”
she said.

Haskel stammered for a moment, then hissed,
“Fool girl. Very well, if ye
insist
on goin’…”

“No!” Morna cried. She sprang from the
bed.

“Husband, no,” Vania said. “Ye can’t let the
child go. If ye don’t make it in time, there’s no tellin’ what she
might see. Are ye willin’ to risk that?”

“It’s a risk I’ll have to take. Lorcan might
agree to take the jewel as a bribe, but without her tellin’ him and
the Vestry all she knows about Tearia, they’ll be back after Dayn
in a heartbeat.”

He turned his eyes to Alicine, and for the
first time Alicine saw fear there. “Ye understand what your aunt is
sayin’, don’t ye?” Haskel said grimly.

Alicine set her jaw. “I do.”

“All right then. Let’s go.”

They headed out the door. A host of clansmen,
including Peadar, Brenainn, and at least fifty more, were waiting
for them. All were armed with knives and swords and an assortment
of fighting gear. Haskel leapt onto his horse and swept Alicine
into the saddle behind him. With a war-like cry the posse exploded
from the scene, leaving Vania, Morna, and Falyn trembling in the
doorway.

Back to ToC

Chapter 38: Demon on the
Mountain

R
eiv awoke,
surprised to discover the rain had stopped and the morning sun was
beginning to glow behind the trees. He yawned and blinked his eyes
awake, then groaned. Why had he allowed himself to sleep so long?
he lamented. Rain or no rain, he should have covered more distance
the day before.

He rolled out from beneath the overhang and
staggered to his feet. His bones ached from the cold, and his
joints were stiff from the bitter ground he’d slept on. Clutching
his cloak around his shoulders, he surveyed his surroundings. The
landscape was draped in morning shades of green and gold, and the
damp, earthy forest smelled pungent and sweet. Reiv pulled the air
through his nostrils, then released it with a sigh. He had to
admit, it was beautiful on this side of the mountains. If only it
wasn’t so blasted cold.

He stepped toward a nearby bush to relieve
his bladder, then turned to gaze toward the sky. The sun was low on
the eastern horizon, he realized. At least the day was still young.
The storm may have cost him time, but there was no sense heading
off with frozen fingers and an empty belly.

He ducked beneath the overhang and opened his
satchel. From within it he pulled out a snare, some flint, and a
pouch of rags. The rags were greased with animal fat, a trick Gair
had taught him, and would at least get a small fire started if
little dry kindling could be found.

From the nearby tree where she was tethered,
Gitta neighed with annoyance. Reiv worked his way to her and
released the reins. “Thirsty, girl?” he said as he led her toward a
stream that could be heard nearby. Down the slope, not far from
where he had slept, Reiv found the rain-swollen creek. It was
moving fast, splashing noisily over sand bars and mossy rocks, but
did not appear deep. He led Gitta along its shore, looking for a
spot where the currents ran gently, until at last he found a place
that would suffice.

Reiv let go his hold on the reins. He
stripped off his gloves, then squatted beside the horse as she
drank. Cupping his hands toward the water, he noticed his own
reflection staring back at him. The sight of it caught him off
guard. Though he recognized his own violet eyes staring back at
him, that was about the only thing he did recognize. His hair was a
wild, disorderly mess, and his face was streaked with dirt. He
scowled. “Is this how you would go meeting Alicine after all this
time?” he muttered. But then he realized: What did it matter?
Alicine was no longer his to impress. He had already given himself
to Jensa.

He dipped his hands into the stream,
obliterating his reflection, and took a drink. After several more
sips, he brought one last handful to his face and scrubbed it
clean. He ran his fingers through his tangled hair, but without a
comb there was little more he could do with it. For a moment he
thought to bind it at his back like he used to, but he knew it
would be much warmer draped across his shoulders and down his back,
and so he left it to hang there.

Reiv straightened up and reached for the
horse’s reins, but the sudden snap of a branch stopped him short.
Heat coursed through his veins as he quickly scanned the landscape.
But he saw no sign of danger. He slanted his eyes toward Gitta and
realized her gaze was equally focused. Clearly he was not the only
one on alert.

****

Eyan crouched, well-hidden by a thick hedge
of forest foliage. His tunic was of a similar green, the perfect
camouflage, and the soles of his deer-skin boots were well-suited
for stalking. Unfortunately, they’d just snapped a branch so
loudly, his presence had been shouted from one end of the mountain
range to the other. Eyan gritted his teeth, praying his prey had
not bolted on account of it.