Souls of Aredyrah 3 - The Taking of the Dawn (48 page)

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Authors: Tracy A. Akers

Tags: #teen, #sword sorcery, #young adult, #epic, #slavery, #labeling, #superstition, #coming of age, #fantasy, #royalty, #romance, #quest, #adventure, #social conflict, #mysticism, #prejudice, #prophecy, #mythology

BOOK: Souls of Aredyrah 3 - The Taking of the Dawn
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“The executioner will turn to face you,
making sure you are witness to the moment he touches the torch to
the wood piled around you. At first the pyre will only smoke, then
a telltale crackle of flames will reach your ears. The crowd will
cheer. You will struggle. And then the smoke will thicken. Tears
will begin to sting your eyes; your chest will struggle for want of
air. The flames will rise around you. Soon they will lick your
boots, melting the leather to your feet. The pain will be
horrendous, Dayn, but nothing compared to the agony you will feel
as the flames creep up your trousers, then your shirt, then your
face. You will writhe and scream. You will pray for death. But you
will still be alive—a pillar of fire, yes. But still alive.

“Some in the crowd will turn away, no longer
having the stomach for it. But most will stay, for they know your
death will bring them life. No longer will you poison their air and
taint their wells. No longer will you kill their crops and destroy
their homes. But more importantly, no longer will you possess their
children.”

Lorcan eased the knife from Dayn’s chin. He
rotated the blade, considering it for a moment.

“Now, boy, as I was saying. If you give me
the names of those you have corrupted, I will see that you are dead
before the flames reach you. A knife thrown to the heart, an arrow
shot to the head. It is no matter to me; I give you the
choice.”

Dayn’s mind raced. “But—but I told you,” he
managed. “There are no names, and I can’t release anyone from a
spell I didn’t conjure!”

Lorcan curled his lip, then walked toward the
door. He paused, turning to face Dayn one last time. “As you wish,
demon. Die in agony. But know this: When the flames eat your flesh,
I will see to it that my daughter is a witness to your
screams.”

 

Back to ToC

Chapter 40: Race for
Time

T
he ride to Vania's
and Eyan’s cabin was not a long one. In no time at all Reiv found
himself being led into a clearing and toward a small timber
dwelling located in the center of it. Around the clearing and
scattered amongst the trees were campsites occupied by
rugged-looking men and not-so-genteel women. Most were dressed in
forest greens, much like the color Dayn had worn, but others were
clothed in shades of blue or burnt sienna. The most intimidating
amongst them, however, were those in browns with plaids of red,
clearly the alphas of the group. As Reiv glanced at the well-armed
men and women staring at him as he passed, a nagging sense of dread
began to weave its way into his thoughts. He could not be certain,
but judging by the weapons, and the expressions of the people
carrying them, a conflict was in the making.

At last he and his escorts arrived at the
cabin. Reiv dismounted and looped the horse’s reins over a nearby
post. Eyan assured him he would tend the animal as soon as Reiv was
settled inside. Vania stepped onto the porch and opened the door.
Reiv entered behind her, his hopes riding high at the possibility
that Dayn and Alicine might be inside. To his profound
disappointment, the only persons he saw were a frail-looking woman
and an attractive girl about Alicine’s age. The two of them rose
immediately from their places at the table, gaping at Reiv in
obvious alarm. Reiv felt annoyed by their reaction, but he dampened
it down. He didn’t appreciate their less than friendly greeting,
but could he blame them? Even had he been in a better state, his
Tearian features would have still screamed demon.

“Morna. Fetch me some cloth and a bowl of
fresh water,” Vania said. She pulled off her cloak and hung it by
the door, then took Reiv’s from his shoulders and did the same.
“Oh, and bring the medicinal in the amber bottle there,” she added.
“The boy’s shoulder needs tendin’.”

The woman nodded and made her way to a
cabinet in the nearby kitchen. The girl scurried to the woman’s
side, working to keep a wide distance between herself and the
monster that had just entered the room.

Vania motioned Reiv to the table. “Sit,” she
said.

Reiv did as instructed, all the while
surveying his surroundings. The interior of the cabin, he noted,
was one large room, crowded but cozy. The table where he sat could
accommodate at least a dozen people and stretched from one side of
the room to the other. Numerous pegs lined the wall near the front
door, most of them covered with an assortment of cloaks, his own
included. Reiv scanned them, looking for a hint of the coat he had
once seen Dayn wear. But there was no sign of it. He moved his eyes
to the far wall. Several beds could be seen, each with a trunk
located at the end of it. It soon became clear that a rather large
family was living in a rather small space. He could only pray that
Dayn and Alicine were amongst them.

“Falyn dear,” Vania began.

“Falyn?” Reiv leapt from the bench and turned
his attention to the girl still standing in the kitchen. “You are
Falyn?” He rounded the table and stepped toward her, grinning, but
she backed away.

Reiv halted his approach. “Dayn told me much
of you. I am Reiv—his cousin.”

Falyn gave a little gasp. “Reiv?”

Morna spun from the sink where she had been
drawing water from the pump. She dropped the bowl with a
clank
and a loud splash of water.

Reiv narrowed his eyes at Vania. “What is it
you are not telling me?”

Vania turned to Eyan. “Go tend to Reiv’s
horse,” she said.


Now
?” Eyan asked. But one look at her
face and he knew there would be no debating it. “Fine,” he said
with a scowl. He turned and stomped toward the door, then shoved it
open with his foot. “Why am I always left out of everythin’,” he
groused, slamming the door behind him.

“I think ye’d better sit, dear,” Vania said
to Reiv. Then to Morna, “Water?”

Morna picked up the bowl to refill it.

Falyn stepped timidly toward the table where
Reiv had retaken his seat. “You’re Dayn’s cousin?” she asked. She
managed a feeble smile, but there was no disguising the worry in
her eyes.

Reiv swung his attention back to Vania.
“Where are Dayn and Alicine?”

Vania reached for the bowl that Morna was now
handing her and the cloth draped across her arm. “Let’s tend that
shoulder of yours first.”

Reiv rose from the bench. “No,” he said, “I
think I would rather have my question answered if you do not
mind.”

Vania set the supplies on the table and
folded her hands. “Very well. Dayn is in Kiradyn, and Alicine has
gone with Haskel and some clansmen to rescue him.”


Rescue
him? From what?”

Morna turned away, her hand covering her
mouth.

“He’s been tried and sentenced to die at high
sun,” Vania said.

“What?” Reiv cried. “By the gods, what did he
do?”

“He didn’t do anything,” Falyn said. “But the
Vestry blames him for the eruption of the mountain and just about
everything bad that’s happened since. They say it’s black
magic—Dayn’s black magic.”

“You must be joking,” Reiv said. “Other than
his sensitivity to earth tremors, and his uncanny ability to
predict them, Dayn possesses no mystical abilities.”

“Of course he doesn’t,” Vania agreed, “but
there’s more to it than that.”

“Such as?”

“Falyn’s father never took keenly to Dayn’s
interest in her,” Vania continued. “When Dayn faced him down
recently…well…let’s just say Lorcan went out of his way to plant
the idea that Dayn’s the cause of everyone’s problems.”

“So that is why there are armed men camped
outside your home?”

“There’s goin’ to be war over it, no doubt.
Especially if Dayn’s executed.”

Reiv straightened his spine. “How do I get to
Kiradyn?” he said.

“Don’t be foolish,” Vania replied. “There’s
nothin’ ye can do.”

But Reiv refused to believe it. He brushed
past her and marched to the door, then threw it open in time to see
Eyan disappearing into the barn with Gitta. “Eyan,” he hollered,
“bring back the horse!”

Reiv stepped onto the porch, but Vania
grabbed his arm. “Reiv, ye can’t! If ye were to show up there—”

Eyan returned with the horse in tow. Reiv
pulled his arm from Vania’s hold and hurried out to meet them. He
reached into the pack that was still secured to the saddle and
removed his dirk, then shoved it into his waistband. “Eyan,” he
said. “Tell me how to get to Kiradyn.”

Eyan looked at him, dumbfounded. “Why in the
world would ye want to go there?” he asked.

Falyn rushed forward. “I’ll tell you how to
get there,” she said.

“Falyn, no,” Vania insisted, following at her
heels. “It’s too risky. Let Haskel and the Chieftains handle
it.”

“What’s goin’ on?” Eyan asked with confusion.
“What do ye mean, handle it?”

Falyn pointed in the direction of the road
leading into the forest. “Head that way and follow the road for
several miles,” she said. “Eventually you’ll come to a main road.
Go left and—”

“Dayn’s in Kiradyn?” Eyan cried, piecing it
together. “Why’s he—”

“I’ll tell ye later,” Vania said.

“No! Tell me now!” he ordered.

Vania’s expression tightened, then she said,
“He’s been arrested and tried for witchery. He’s to be executed at
high sun. Your father and a group o’ clansmen have gone to fetch
him.”

Reiv leapt onto the horse and gripped the
reins.

“I’m goin’ with ye,” Eyan insisted.

“No, Eyan. There’s no time,” Reiv said. He
turned his attention to Falyn. “From the main road, then what?”

“It will lead you directly into Kiradyn, but
you’ll have to ride fast,” she said. “Once you reach the city, make
your way to the center of it.”

“Is there a particular building I should look
for?”

“No. The execution will happen out of doors,
in the town square. You’ll see a crowd. There’s always a throng of
spectators when the stake is involved.”

“The
stake
?”

“Yes,” Falyn said anxiously. “Dayn’s to be
burned at the stake.” She glanced at the sun. “Please Reiv, there’s
not much time!”

Reiv swung the horse in the direction of the
road, but Eyan rushed toward him. “Take these at least,” he said,
pulling his bow and quiver from his back. “Ye might need ‘em.”

Reiv took Eyan’s offering with a word of
thanks, then swung the quiver and bow over his shoulder. With one
last look at Falyn and the others, he jabbed his heels into the
horse’s ribs and bolted toward the road.

****

The posse of clansmen rode like a cyclone
through the forest, their long black hair mingling with the
clan-colored cloaks billowing at their backs. At their sides and
attached to their saddles, weaponry clanked—swords and axes, maces
and daggers—but it was the men’s brutal determination that would be
their greatest ally.

From out of nowhere a deafening roar sounded.
The ground began to ripple like waves in a stormy sea. The horses
twisted and lurched; the men fought them with kicks and shouts and
yanks on their reins. Alicine clung to Haskel’s waist as the horse
they were riding bucked, threatening to toss them. But Haskel
refused to be tossed. He jerked the horse’s reins with such force,
the animal had no choice but to obey. The rumbling stopped almost
as quickly as it had started.

The clansmen spurred their horses onward, but
they had not gone far when the ground began to rumble again. But
this time the men managed to keep their mounts advancing. Trees
teetered around them. Some crashed to the ground, others slammed
into those swaying next to them. Alicine buried her face in
Haskel’s back, then felt her stomach flip as their horse sailed
over a fallen branch. Her body lifted from the saddle, then dropped
in a spine-crushing jolt. She risked a look over her shoulder,
relieved to see the rest of the horsemen still behind them.

With a shout, Haskel suddenly reined his
horse to a halt. The rest of the pack stopped in a frenzy of
confusion at his back.

“By the Maker,” Haskel said, staring at the
road ahead.

Curses sounded, and Alicine leaned around to
see what held her uncle’s attention. She gasped. A steaming fissure
could be seen straddling the road, stretching as far as the eye
could see.

Peadar and Brenainn urged their horses next
to Haskel’s. “There’ll be no jumpin’ over tha,” Brenainn said.

“Then we go around it,” Peadar replied.

Haskel glanced at the sun. “We’re runnin’ out
of time.”

“So are the Aeries,” Brenainn reminded him.
“If Dayn was right, and it’s seemin’ to me that he was, then we’d
better get him in a hurry if we’ve any hope o’ gettin’ back.”

Without a word, Haskel kicked in his heels
and reined his horse toward the chasm and the maze of fallen trees
that would hopefully lead them around it.

****

Footsteps sounded then stopped outside the
door to the room where Dayn was imprisoned. Muffled voices could be
heard, followed by the tell-tale
click
of a key in the
lock.

The door swung open, sending a swath of light
across the floorboards. The shape of someone holding a lantern
entered, but this time Dayn was unable to determine who it was. He
scrambled from the floor, praying it wasn’t Lorcan, or the
executioner.

“I brought you something to eat,” a voice
said, closing the door behind him.

Dayn realized it was Sheireadan. Fury bubbled
in his throat. “How could you have turned me over to the wolves
like that!” he demanded, taking a step toward him.

“I didn’t have any choice,” Sheireadan said.
He turned and set the lantern and a plate of food on a nearby
barrel.

Dayn grabbed Sheireadan by an arm and spun
him around to face him. “Of course you had a choice! You did it to
save your own skin.”

“No. I didn’t,” Sheireadan said, jerking his
arm away. “I did it to save someone else’s.”

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