The Baldari (Book 3) (40 page)

S’erom slowly forced his eyes open.  The effort took all of his will, but gradually his impossibly heavy eyelids lifted, and the bright confusing picture of where he was unraveled before him.  There were others in the cage with him, and they seemed to be in better shape.  They were at least up and walking around.  He wished to call out to them and learn where he was, but his brain was still muddled, and he couldn’t put together a coherent thought.

His sword was gone, of course.  So was his bow and the small belt knife he usually wore.  For the briefest moment he couldn’t fathom what had happened and how he had ended up in such a place.  Then, with a blow that threatened to sap the very last of his will, he remembered the attack.  They were gone!  His mate, his children, everyone he had ever known.  Now he recalled the blast of powerful magic the Talls had unleashed on him and his warriors.  The pain had been intense.  Every part of his body had been bathed in the hurtful fire, and he had known he was being consumed just as he’d seen others blasted by the bright fire the Talls could create.  He’d known that his family must be suffering a similar fate, and that he’d never see them again.  He had never expected to see anything again.

And now, inexplicably, here he was.  He examined his body quickly, and was surprised to discover there were none of the fierce burns he expected to find.  He appeared to be wholly intact, without a mark on him.  The fire that had consumed his fellows must have been directed off center, and he had escaped the worst of the blast.  But then, why had he felt like every part of his body was being roasted over an intense fire?

As his questions grew, his mind started to clear.  The others in the cell were also unharmed as near as he could tell.  They also appeared to be more alert and active than himself, and now that he was moving, several of them had backed away and watched him carefully.  They looked upon him with a certain respect, which suggested they recognized who he was.  Not that his position as First had any real meaning among the A’ardaugh.  That was a title that had been bestowed upon him by the force that controlled him, yet he knew that some memories remained even after the controlling mind withdrew.  These warriors must recall enough to know he was their leader, at least one of them, in the battles they had been forced to fight.

He took a moment to scan the group of seven warriors, and realized he didn’t recognize any of them.  He knew every male in his own village.  That suggested they were from another village.  That was possible, but he was disappointed that none from his own had survived.  It would have been reassuring to speak with someone he had a common bond with.  They must be from one of the nearby villages that had come to support the attack.  A moment of jealousy flared as he wondered if because of that, the families of some of these warriors had survived while his own had perished.

Finally he was able to project his concern and questions to those around him.  The mental replies came from several of his fellow prisoners almost simultaneously.  It took his lethargic brain a moment to sort the replies out.  He was a prisoner of the Talls.  That hardly came as a surprise.  Now that he remembered the encounter and the fierce magic that had been unleashed, he could hardly be anywhere else.

What was a surprise, was the fact that all of those being held here with him, had not been taken during the recent battle.  These warriors were in turn surprised to learn that the village near the Gathering Place had been attacked, and the tribes wiped out.  They had been taken much earlier, at the battle deep within the Talls homeland when they had been supported by Talls of their own.  Talls that were controlled by the same force that drove them.  He had often heard rumors that those captured were forced to die and would never be seen again.  Obviously, that rumor was not true.

It struck S’erom almost immediately that he alone had survived the attack on the village.  He was certain that if any others had lived, they would be imprisoned here with him.  Once again he felt a brief flash of despair.  Why had he been allowed to survive?  He would much rather have died with the rest of his village.

One of the other prisoners brought him a small mug of water.  There was a large vat of the cool liquid, and now that he looked S’erom could see that there was food as well.  What a curious way to treat prisoners. He questioned those in the cell, and they confirmed that while the food was not especially flavorful, they were given all they required, and generally had been treated well.  S’erom had always assumed that those taken prisoner were quickly put to death, and learning this was not the case confused him.

The cool water calmed his burning throat, and he pushed himself so that he was sitting with his back to the wall where he could watch the large door made of stout iron bars.  As his mind regained its full awareness, he resolved to seek any opportunity to take revenge upon the Talls.  He knew that the battle between the A’ardaugh and the Talls was something that was not the fault of the Talls.  They had simply been responding to the aggression against them, but S’erom could only focus on the simple fact they had come to his home and taken his family, his most cherished thing, from him.  That overrode everything else.  He would take his revenge when he could, and hopefully they would kill him so he would not have to carry the bitter memories of his loss.

He had already learned that the Talls were not above killing them for lack of cooperation.  Nine warriors had been captured, along with one of the Talls that had come to their side.  Two of the warriors had never been seen again, nor had the supporting Tall.  Of course they could be elsewhere, but why would that be?  He asked what the Talls had wanted from them, but learned that all attempts to communicate with them had fallen short.  Consistent with his own experiences, the Talls were deaf and dumb, and could not be communicated with.  Each of the warriors told of being strapped to a table, and having their minds invaded.  The purpose was not known, and while the experience was uncomfortable and distasteful, it had not caused any harm.  It had also not satisfied the Talls.  They had been clearly unhappy after all of the warriors had been subjected to the process.

The stories prepared him for what almost certainly was waiting for him.  Sure enough, the next morning several Talls came for him.  They were armed, and he briefly considered forcing them to kill him, but he wished for a more meaningful death and a chance to take at least a small revenge.  He therefore allowed himself to be taken, hands tied behind him, out of the cell and down a long hall to the room he’d been told about.

He understood better what his fellow warriors had tried to describe to him.  He could feel them poking around in his memories, and he suspected they sought some link to the power that controlled him.  He wished them luck.  He had never seen the entity behind the control, and knew they would learn nothing.  He was interested in the constant chatter between those examining him, and was certain they communicated by the sounds, much like some of the animals in the jungle.  Perhaps that was why they never responded to his thoughts.

The process went on forever.  He wished he could simply drift off and wake up again when it was done.  Instead, he was forced to gaze upon memories locked in his mind, some of them he would have thought forgotten, and others very painful. He saw his village, and happier time with his family, including the birth of his children.  He saw the battles he had participated in and those he had been in charge of.  He saw a great many Talls that he had killed, and watched them die a second time.  He was certain those memories would be sufficient to see him killed when this was over.

Finally they withdrew from his mind, and he was allowed to rest a short time before he was unstrapped from the table and helped to his feet.  There had been no chance for him to attack, and now, with his hands bound once again, and a bit shaky from the experience, S’erom knew he would be returned to the cell without having accomplished anything.  He felt shame for his lack of action.  A warrior such as himself should have been able to do better.

As the group that escorted him approached the cell where the other warriors waited, S’erom noticed a young woman he had not seen before talking to one of the Talls who had been in the room with him during the probing.  He couldn’t believe what he sensed as he approached.  His mind felt the same kind of force that he had experienced so many times of late.  The mental force was commanding unlike that of another A’ardaugh, even if in this case it was not directed at him, nor for that matter even very active.  Even so, there was no denying it had the same flavor as the force that had driven him into battle so many times.  He could sense the potential.  He couldn’t help but wonder why it was here.  He had thought himself in the hands of his enemies, but now he didn’t know what to think.

“Why have you deserted us?” he thought at the woman as he passed her by, his face turned to see how she would respond.

“Everyone agrees he is the one?” Daim asked when they had assembled the following day.

“He almost has to be,” Tara replied.  “He was surrounded by a protective guard and in a location that commanded the forces we encountered at the village.  It was clearly set up to be a trap.  He looks like the images we recovered during the Readings from those from Pagner, down to the strange scar across his lower face.  Since being placed in with the others, they clearly show a certain deference towards him.”

“There is little doubt they communicate mentally as we thought,” Ash’urn said. 

He had joined the group for today’s discussion.  His health was better, and other than the obvious physical marks of the accident, he was more like his old self.  A little magic by Jeen and another healer had helped grow back the left part of his beard, which while more curly and wiry appearing, at least covered that part of his face.  The slightly gaunt look to the affected side of his face and the milky orb where his eye had been destroyed still remained. 

“When this most recent one was added to the room with the seven captured earlier, one could almost tell which individuals were communicating, even though no vocals were exchanged.”

Nycoh shifted uneasily in her seat.  She could still feel the faint tickle inside her head and recall the dark brown eyes that had looked intently into her own when she turned toward the prisoners late the day before.  She was certain that he had been behind the sensation, and had been watching her for a reaction.  It was unsettling, and while she should bring it up, she wasn’t ready to do so as yet.  It might lead to other questions.  Questions she wished to avoid until she understood matters better.  Her mind wandered to the small case which now held more than two dozen of the faintly purple hairs.  Only Ash’urn knew of her secret, and even he didn’t know how many of the hairs and this most recent event.  He had told her it was nothing, and the appearance probably indicated she had some of the same heritage.  It didn’t change who she was or where her loyalties lie.  But she was unnerved by the situation.  She didn’t want to be linked to the Brryn.  Not in any way.  Fortunately, Ash’urn, who was probably her closest friend, had agreed it was her secret, to be shared only if she chose.

“The Reading yielded very little, I’m told,” Rigo added.

“That’s correct,” agreed the wizard responsible for such things.  “The results were very disappointing.  There are the usual images of places and people. Since we have no knowledge of their language, none of them make much sense and we have to guess what we are seeing.  The village where the attack took place was almost certainly his own village.  Scenes of the place are common.  It is also apparent he has been involved in a great many of the attacks against both Sedfair and the Three Kingdoms.  In some he appears to be part of the general forces, but in the more recent he has a more important role as we expected.”

“Nothing in the Readings suggests he has visited with the Brryn, or has been to the place where this chamber Mitty sees is located?” Daim asked.

“Not that we can tell.  He has traveled widely, and been in many places in the jungle.  Some of the images appear older, and I suspect he was a bit of an explorer in earlier days.  There are no images of one of the Brryn, and nothing that appears like the chamber as described to me.  My best guess is that he has never met the woman we are seeking.  It is very possible he has never been within a week’s travel of where she is hiding.”

“Perhaps he has never been inside the chamber,” Jeen suggested.  “It might look very different from the outside, if for no other reason than to prevent it from standing out.  It might be in his visions and you wouldn’t have recognized it.”

The Reader shrugged, but clearly he didn’t like the suggestion he might have missed something.  “There are some areas of his memory that are fogged.  I can think of no other way to describe it.  Perhaps they have been somehow erased or masked.”

“It doesn’t appear we are going to learn as much as we hoped,” Rigo said disappointed.  “We have to face the fact that it is very possible that none of these Baldari have ever seen or even been near the Brryn we are seeking.  She obviously can control them from afar, so there might be no need to bring them close.  It is unfortunate there is no way to communicate with our captives.”

“That puts us back to the expedition into the jungle,” Tara said.  “We have to continue pressing deeper and see what we can find.”

“There will probably be more attacks,” Ash’urn warned.  “They aren’t going to like that we are now in their territory.”

“That can’t be allowed to deter us,” Daim countered.  “For the moment we appear to have the upper hand.  We have abilities beyond those that have been employed against us.  Only Shym could produce
Greenfire
, and she is gone.  Most of those captured haven’t shown they have the protective shields, and all of our people do.  The battle in the village was so one-sided as to be ridiculous.  There weren’t even any of the captured Casters or wizards employed to help the Baldari.”

“That makes one wonder,” Ash’urn said softly. “We are certain that this Brryn woman has taken a significant number of both.  Why weren’t they present?  She must have had some other purpose in mind when she sent the Baldari after our people.”

“It’s interesting that the nearby villages were all essentially deserted,” Tara said.  “Debi believes the force that attacked us was drawn from the four villages in the area.  That would suggest that all of the villages were well below their normal population.  The attacking force would have been typical of a single one of the villages.”

“I was told you found a number of dead youngsters in the other villages,” Daim said.

Tara nodded.  “Dead.  No sign of wounds or trauma.  They simply had died.  Much like the Baldari who we captured in the past and before we learned how to shield them. “

“Has the team located any additional villages?” Jeen asked.

The force of wizards was still in the area, led temporarily by Debi and Crissi. 

“No more,” Tara said.  “The land changes as one moves away from the cluster of villages we found.  The jungle becomes more dense and less suited to cultivation once again.  It is starting to look as if we will have to go a considerable distance before we find any others.  That is unfortunate, because it suggests the warriors might have been collected over a vast area, and the Brryn could be anywhere.”

“Continue south,” Daim ordered.  “We have had to go much farther in that direction than anyone would have anticipated before finding anything.  The map Jeen found suggests there is as much land in that direction yet to cross as we have already passed through.”

After the meeting broke up, Nycoh and Ash’urn walked down the hallway to his workroom.  “The Repository hasn’t been very helpful then?” she asked.

“It would be wondrous what we have uncovered if it were simply a scientific study of the past.  I have found numerous little bits of arcane information.  Unfortunately, nothing is of major use to us, and nothing that will help us locate or subdue the Brryn.  What is worse, we have almost run out of materials to investigate.  Another week, and there will be little more to be done, unless we find a way into the materials stored there.”

“The Caretakers have been less than helpful?” she asked.

“I don’t think they really know very much.  They were probably simply tasked to hide the location from outsiders.  None have ever entered the facility itself.  I don’t believe they can, since the only method appears to be via the
Waygate
.”

As they stepped into the workroom, the very chamber where Ash’urn had been so severely injured, he quietly closed the door behind them.

“There is something on your mind?” Ash’urn asked astutely.

Nycoh nodded with a wane smile.  “There are developments I need to talk with you about,” she said.

A short time later Nycoh warily approached the cage where the Baldari were being kept.  The entire room where the Baldari were kept had been shielded for convenience, not just the cell inside.  She could detect the faint field that protected the warriors from being affected by the force that caused them to die in captivity, sensing it remained strong and effective.  If one of the warriors was taken from the room, as was done when they were taken for the reading, a separate field needed to be placed around him, or there was a strong chance he would be lost within a glass.  The Baldari inside the cage seemed unconcerned or uninterested in her presence.  All except one, that is.  The recently incarcerated Baldari who had stared intently at her the other day watched her curiously as she approached the edge of the cage. 

Ash’urn had told her she had to come here and try to see if the strange sensation might result in some kind of contact.  It was too important, and if she could discover a means by which the Baldari could be spoken with, their chances of finding the essential intelligence they sought were infinitely greater.  Her secret, as much as it worried her, was of far lesser importance.

Even after the long pep talk by Ash’urn, Nycoh almost hoped that this wouldn’t prove a fruitful visit.  She silently prayed that she had been mistaken, and the strange itch had been something else altogether.  She wasn’t sure how she should even begin to start this.  Others had shown that none of the Baldari spoke any of the local language.  She was about to ask the Baldari if he wanted to speak with her, when once again she felt the strange itch.  It was almost like a faint whisper inside her head, except it was muffled and none of it was understandable.  She looked again, and noticed the Baldari was again watching her with interest.

None of the older group of Baldari warriors were paying any attention to her.  She was just another of their captors, and they had long lost interest in the individuals who passed through to look at them.  The fact none seemed to react to what Nycoh was certain was an attempt to communicate suggested that the Baldari could direct his conversation to a specific individual.  Perhaps he could broadcast globally, or selectively.  It would be interesting to know.

Twice more she sensed the whisper, but this was obviously pointless.  She wasn’t getting anything she could understand, and had no idea how she would attempt to reply even if she did.  Frustrated, Nycoh turned away and was about to return to the door to leave, when she just barely made something out.

“
Are you the Controller
?’ the faint buzz asked.

Startled, she turned back to the Baldari, whose face was tense with the effort he was putting forth.

She shook her head and said aloud.  “No.  No, I’m not that person.”

The Baldari frowned and pointed to his ears and shook his head.  Then he pointed to his temples as if encouraging her to speak to his mind.

Now what?
  Nycoh wasn’t even sure she had heard what she thought, and couldn’t imagine how to trigger a reply.

She tried again, but whispering was still speaking, and just as useless.  She tried to picture the words in her mind, but that didn’t accomplish anything.  She cursed and looked up at the window where she knew Ash’urn was watching.  He would almost certainly have an idea, but this wasn’t the time to walk away.  Gathering her wits, she thought about what she had heard.  Then she tried to hear her own answer in her mind, not simply think the words.  The eyes of the Baldari suddenly went wide.  She realized that several of the others across the room had suddenly glanced her way.  Whatever she had done, she was broadcasting to everyone.

The Baldari moved closer to the edge of the cage and shook his head.  She realized he had sensed her response, but hadn’t understood.  Nycoh wanted to weep from frustration, but then decided she was trying too complicated a response.  She focused again, and thought and tried to hear the simple word,
No
.

That must have worked, because the Baldari nodded.  Then he turned to those behind him, and she suspected he had silenced them.  They had certainly become agitated at her simple one word reply.  He looked back at her and again she heard the faint whisper.  This time she heard, “
I know you aren’t
.”

Great Risos!  She had actually communicated with the Baldari.  That was a first.  Her own part wasn’t admirable, but they had communicated an idea.  She could see he was waiting for her to do something.  The others had lost interest in what they had been doing and were sitting down looking her way.  None of her own people had any idea what was going on.  Ash’urn had told them she needed to be alone for a test, without specifying its nature.

The greater shock was that there was no doubt there was something different about her.  The extended range of her magic.  The purple colored hairs.  And now this!  As Ash’urn had suggested, she must have the genes of the Brryn as part of her heritage.  All wizards must, if the story Koess had told was correct, but in her case the percentage must be far, far greater.  She hated the idea after seeing what the woman had done, but she forced herself to be rational, and remember what Ash’urn had said.  Her heritage didn’t define her.  She had free will, and was not the same as the woman they sought.

Bringing her mind back to the situation at hand, she wondered what to try next.  It needed to be simple.  It also needed to be relevant. 

“Name
,” she formulated in her mind.  She could see a narrowing of the Baldari’s eyes, but heard no response.  Annoyed, she pointed to herself.  “
Nycoh
,” she thought at him, her entire focus on the word.  “
What is your name?”