The Raie'Chaelia Page 17

  Chapter 16 - The Quaie’Miren

  WHACK! “Where is he? If it is not you, then who is it?”

  Chalice opened her eyes and could barely make out the scene in front of her. She was lying sideways in the dirt of a tiny forest clearing, her hands and feet bound in rope behind her. Pain racked her whole body, especially her head. It was early afternoon and the leaves in the thick tree branches above rustled with the wind, blocking out most of the light.

  She wondered how long she had been knocked out. A fire blazed in front of her, heating her face. On the other side of it, two large, dark-haired men in black mail, cloaks and black leather boots were towering over Jeremiah and beating him savagely. One of them held Jeremiah’s broken bow in his hand. Apparently, he had been using it to hit him.

  Jeremiah was on his knees, his hands and feet bound like hers. He was stripped of his clothes save his britches, which hung loosely around his waist. His face and torso were badly bruised and blood ran from his nose and mouth. Chalice couldn’t stand to see him like that. She cursed herself for not being able to outrun the riders.

  It is my fault! I was too slow. If only I had listened to my Shaunta and practiced more, meditated more, she thought. I could have sensed that barrier. I could have avoided it. Then, she heard the voice of her teacher in her head. It will come to you only when you are ready. Now, she realized that she would never be ready. They were captured. It was over.

  “I told you,” Jeremiah spluttered through a mouth full of blood. “There is no man with that mark.”

  “Liar! You will tell us, disgusting Naeon.”

  The man on the right kicked him hard in the stomach and Jeremiah doubled over. Then, all of the sudden, Jeremiah seemed to straighten unnaturally, an invisible force holding him up. Chalice found it fortunate that he was so muscular, otherwise that one kick would have broken several ribs. The man turned to the third black rider who had been busy shuffling through Chalice’s bags hanging from Sunny’s saddle. Sunny was tied to a tree and the whites of his eyes shone with terror. The third rider was holding the wooden box that Queen Svati had given her and was examining its contents. He was older than the other two, with touches of silver in his dark hair.

  “Nerrick, give me that knife. This is not working,” said the man holding the broken bow. The man named Nerrick lifted the sharp obsidian dagger from the box and proffered it. The other man threw down the bow and grabbed it. Then, he turned toward Jeremiah and held the dagger to his throat. Chalice panicked.

  No! They’re going to kill him!

  “He’s not lying,” she shouted angrily. The man turned, glowering at her and pulled the dagger away from Jeremiah. Jeremiah fell to the ground in a heap. He was exhausted and broken.

  “No! Chalice, no!” he cried, spitting blood from his mouth.

  “Well, well. Look who’s awake,” the man sneered in a patronizing tone as he swaggered toward her with an air of overconfidence, encouraged by Jeremiah’s protest. “What does this pretty little thing have to say? Do you know who it is, little one? Can you tell us? We will spare your friend if you do.”

  She knew he was lying, but she didn’t care. He was very young and had dark brown hair and eyes. He was extraordinarily good-looking for someone so cruel. She hated him. She hated all of them. If only she were unbound, she would tear them apart. She felt herself being lifted from the ground by an invisible force and set on her knees in front of them, as Jeremiah had been.

  “He is not lying to you.” She glared furiously into his dark eyes. “There is no man with that mark.”

  “And why should we believe you?” he asked, lifting her chin with the tip of the dagger.

  “Because I have it,” she replied and he froze, his face becoming ice, gaping at her in shock and disbelief. She cocked her head to the right. “On my right shoulder. Take a look if you want.” She didn’t care if they saw. She didn’t care if they knew. All she wanted was to divert their attention from Jeremiah.

  “Chalice, no!” Jeremiah murmured again weakly, unable to move.

  With a worried expression, the man removed the dagger from her chin and slit the fabric of her dress, exposing her right shoulder. He stepped back in abject horror. The other two were behind him, gaping.

  “It can’t be,” he muttered to himself. “Is this a joke?”

  “No, Rhaene. It’s not a joke,” Nerrick said, shaking his head. “That’s it. That’s the mark.”

  “It is and you can choke on it, Draaquan,” she said defiantly, shooting them a freezing look. The rage had built up inside her and she was so angry, she didn’t even care if they killed her. If she was going to die, she wasn’t going to die a coward.

  Provoked by her words, unable to accept what he was seeing before him, Rhaene unsheathed a large sword from the scabbard on his belt. The sound of metal on metal rang out, shrill and piercing. It was a huge scimitar with a filagreed hilt of fine gold and silver. In a flash, he slashed the blade across her shoulder. She felt the sharp pain of cold metal sear through her flesh and a warm trickle of blood down her arm. Then, he raised the sword just above her neck and in a swift movement, brought it slicing down through the air.

  This is it, she thought and closed her eyes. I’m going to die. She could hear Jeremiah struggling on the ground, muttering something incoherently.

  “No, Rhaene! No! We cannot kill her. The oaths. The Fierain is still unsure.” Chalice opened her eyes and saw the other man, who resembled Rhaene and who had been silent the whole time. He was gripping Rhaene’s arm tightly with both hands, holding it in frozen motion. The blade of the scimitar was a finger’s width away from her throat.

  Rhaene’s face shone with fury. “Jaden, do you realize how angry he will be about this?! Do you want to be the one to tell him?!”

  “Rhaene, our orders were to deliver the child alive,” Nerrick interjected. “We will turn her over to Vlaad. He will know what to do. He is the only one who really knows how to deal with the Fierain.”

  “Let’s at least cut her tongue out. That will teach her some respect,” Rhaene said as his lip curled in a snarl.

  “No,” Nerrick replied. “She may have information we need. Vlaad will want to torture it out of her before he kills her.”

  “I thought we had to bring her alive.”

  “We have to deliver her alive to Vlaad. Those are our orders. Knowing him, after he gets what he needs from her, she won’t be alive for very long,” he remarked sharply and glanced down at Chalice in disgust.

  “He will find a way to dispose of her. I’m certain of it,” he added disdainfully and then raised his knee above her wounded shoulder and brought his foot down on it as hard as he could, knocking her to the ground.

  She did not cry out. She did not squirm. She refused to show them that she was in pain. She would not give them the satisfaction.

  “Where did you get that?” the man named Jaden asked Rhaene.

  “Get what?”

  “Vlaad’s sword.”

  “Jez. She asked me to carry it to him. She treated it with toxins.”

  “Jez?” Nerrick asked, looking sternly at Rhaene. “You mean Jezebelle. You are too familiar with her, Rhaene. Be careful. Do not get too close to Vlaad’s mistress. She is dangerous.”

  “I’m not worried,” he replied smugly as he re-sheathed the sword.

  “You should be. I’ve seen this happen before. There is a reason we call her the Black Widow.”

  Rhaene’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  But the reason why, Chalice never found out. At that moment, ululating cries pierced the forest silence, and out of nowhere, a cloud of deadly arrows rained down upon the men, drilling through their mail and driving into their flesh. Rhaene stumbled and dropped the dagger. He had been stuck with several arrows that were protruding from his shoulders, chest, and legs. He staggered clumsily toward his mount. The others had been injured as well,
but not as badly. They, too, were hobbling toward their horses to escape. They could not see who or where their attackers were.

  Chalice immediately rolled over to reach Jeremiah. She covered his broken body with her own in order to shield him. Many of the arrows, she saw, bounced off an invisible wall and fell into the trees. The more that rained down, the weaker the wall became until it was no longer deflecting arrows. But by that time, the Draaquans were gone.

  Chalice just lay there, shaking, her body draped over Jeremiah, protecting him from whatever this new threat was. Then, she heard what sounded like hundreds of soft footsteps and felt something cold cut her bonds. A strong hand turned her over onto her back and she looked up. She saw two large, beautiful blue-green eyes, tanned skin, and long blond hair.

  “Hi!” the woman said, leaning over her and smiling. “I’m Ardenne.”

  She had a strange accent that Chalice couldn’t place. She was young, tall and strong and wore the strangest clothing Chalice had ever seen. It was silver, thick and leathery, but scaled like fish skin and it was form-fitting, covering her whole body. Her feet were protected by soft crocodile boots and she wore gold rings on her fingers and ears. A large leather sack sat strapped to her back next to her quiver and she held a large bow in her left hand. Her bow was made of a hard, white material that was carved with lines that spiraled down the length of it. Two blond men who resembled her stood just behind in similar, but looser fitting clothing. All around her, people of the same ilk ran around the camp, scanning their surroundings and scouting for the missing Draaquans.

  Chalice lay speechless. This was the last thing she expected. She opened her mouth to introduce herself, but nothing came out.

  The woman, Ardenne, smiled again and said softly: “Are you alright?” She let out a deep, relieved breath. “We found you just in time. We almost didn’t.”

  “My friend … my friend is badly hurt. He needs help,” Chalice stuttered as she attempted to sit up. She fell back and groaned. Every muscle in her body was sore. Ardenne bent to one knee and lifted her into a sitting position.

  “You are hurt, too, I see,” she said, motioning to her shoulder. She removed the bag from her back and took out a cloth and a water skin. The water skin appeared to made of the same material as her clothing. Then, she began to clean the wound. Chalice tried not to wince as she wiped the cloth over the cut.

  The two men behind Ardenne strode over to Jeremiah and cut his bonds, gently laying him flat on the ground. They immediately set to work, treating him with water, salves, and cloths that they had pulled from their strapped leather bags. Chalice looked at them uneasily.

  “Don’t worry, Chalice. They’re my twin brothers, Aeron and Aden. They’ll be very careful with him,” Ardenne reassured her and Chalice stared at her in shock.

  How does she know my name?

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  “We call ourselves the Quaie’Miren.”

  The Quaie’Miren? The Lost Ones! Chalice’s jaw dropped in disbelief and Ardenne pointed to her mark.

  “What is this?”

  “My birthmark.”

  “That’s a birthmark?”

  “Yeah,” Chalice said sadly as she wiped the dirt from her face. At this point, she no longer considered it her lucky charm.

  “This cut is sliced straight through it. You see? Right here.”

  Chalice glanced down and noticed that after the blood had been removed, the cut was sharp and almost perfectly horizontal, connecting the ends of the two upper lines of her birthmark.

  “We have been looking for you all day,” Ardenne added.

  “What? Why?” Chalice couldn’t find the right question. She was so confused and shocked at meeting these people that she had only ever heard of in stories. They acted as if she should have been expecting them and yet she didn’t even know them.

  “What is going on?” she asked.

  “You called us.”

  “Huh? How? I don’t know what you mean. How could I have called you? I don’t even know you.”

  Ardenne froze for a moment and studied Chalice with a puzzled expression. Then, she grinned and shook her head.

  “He was right!” she exclaimed in amazement. “For once, he was actually right! I don’t believe it! He said that you wouldn’t know what you did.”

  “Who? What did I do?” Chalice was completely lost. Did I miss something here?

  “Our Prophet. I will explain everything, but first we need to get you two treated and brought to our camp. There you can rest and have something hot to eat and drink. Kirna will be anxious to see you.”

  “Kirna?! You mean, my best friend Kirna?” Chalice asked and Ardenne nodded. “You know her?”

  “We found your friends just before we found you. They have been worried sick,” Ardenne said and Chalice breathed a sigh of relief. Thank the heavens!

  “Denni,” her brother said softly and Ardenne turned her head.

  “What’s up, Aeron?” She looked around. “Where’s Aden?”

  “He went to get a couple of tree branches. Hey …” He motioned toward Jeremiah and said in a whisper so that Chalice couldn’t hear: “Her young man here, he’s in pretty bad shape. He’s got some broken bones. Something else is wrong as well, but we’re not sure what it is. We will need to carry him. Do we have enough shagreen to make a stretcher?”

  Unbeknownst to Aeron, Chalice could hear every word he said. Hold on, Jeremiah! Hold on until we find Ben. She could feel the tears swelling in her eyes, but she fought them off.

  “I think Lexi does. He’s over there,” Ardenne answered. She pointed to a lanky man with light ginger hair who was crouching on the ground, examining the obsidian dagger that Rhaene had dropped.

  “Whatcha got there, Lexi?” Aeron asked him.

  “An obsidian dagger. Strange. Ardenne, did you drop a dagger?” He placed his finger along the edge and immediately withdrew it, a drop of blood forming at the tip.

  “No, I’ve got my knife right here,” Ardenne replied. “I don’t have a dagger.” She placed her hand on her leather belt where her knife and sheath were attached.

  “That’s mine,” Chalice said. “Please, I need it.”

  “Man, this thing is razor sharp,” he said as he sucked his finger. “Where did you get this?”

  “A friend,” she answered. She decided to keep the information to herself for now. She didn’t know these people and didn’t want to tell them too much.

  “Do you have a sheath for it?” he asked.

  “It goes in a dark wooden box. It should be over near my horse, just there. It may be on the dirt somewhere.” She gestured toward Sunny and the man scanned the ground.

  “I see nothing.”

  “Try my bags.”

  He reached over and stroked Sunny on the neck to calm him. Then, he shuffled around her bags for the box.

  “Nope, not here.”

  She let out a loud sigh of dismay. “They took it!”

  “This box, it was important?” Ardenne asked and Chalice nodded.

  “Yes.”

  “I have a sheath for this if you want,” Lexi said, holding up the dagger.

  “Thank you! That will help a lot.” Chalice smiled weakly. She was trying not to show her regret at losing the box and the stone inside of it.

  Lexi nodded and unbuckled an empty leather sheath from his belt, placing the dagger inside. He tied the two leathers straps together that hung loosely over the hilt to hold it in position. Just then, Aden returned with two branches that he began to strip with a carving knife. Aeron laid out a long square of tough fabric along the ground and stretched it taut, placing stones on the corners. Within minutes, Ardenne’s brothers had a makeshift stretcher upon which they gently laid Jeremiah, covering him with a small blanket.

  “This wound does not want to stop bleeding,” Ardenne said as she patted Chalice’s shoulder with a cl
oth. Each time, the cloth came away covered in crimson. She frowned and pulled an ointment from her bag. It stung when she applied it and Chalice grimaced.

  “I’m sorry, but it’s necessary. This is the only thing that will block the flow of blood until it congeals on its own.” She was right. The blood flow stopped and she wrapped the shoulder with a bandage.

  At this point, many of the others had returned to the clearing. Two of them were untying the horses and leading them over, while another doused the fire.

  “They’re gone,” one of men said to Ardenne. “We can’t locate them.”

  “Damn!” She scowled. “I was hoping to take them out. When we get back to camp, we will need to leave for the ship immediately. They will be back soon with more men.”

  “I don’t think there’s any way they could have survived that,” Chalice said. “They were riddled with arrows.”

  The man looked down at her. “That?” he said, pointing in the direction of the riders. “That was nothing to them. They can heal themselves quickly and be ready to return within minutes. When Draaquans are in groups of three or more, they are very hard to kill.”

  Ardenne looked softly at Chalice. “Can you ride?”

  “Of course!”

  She was still in pain and felt a little unsteady, but it wasn’t going to keep her from riding on her own. Ardenne helped her up and she took Sunny’s reins, wincing as she mounted. Lexi placed the newly sheathed dagger into her saddlebag.

  “Here you go,” he said. “Just untie the straps when you want to use it.”

  “Okay, thanks so much!”

  “Follow us. Try and keep up, alright?” Ardenne said.

  “Sure,” Chalice said, perplexed. They were on foot and she was on a horse. She wondered how they could possibly outrun her on Sunny, but soon she found out. As they set off, she was astonished at how fast they could move. Even the two who carried Jeremiah were in line with her the whole way, keeping him perfectly steady. They were amazingly graceful on foot.

  They traveled for a half an hour and when they finally exited the thicket of trees, she could see their camp spread out in a small glade. The Kedros roared in the distance. Dozens of tents dotted the clearing in a circle and woodsmoke drifted from the center. Kirna was crouching near a huge fire, stirring a pot with a wooden spoon. She glanced up and saw Chalice. Dropping the spoon into the pot, she ran as fast as she could. Tycho followed right behind.

  “Chalice! We’ve been looking for you all day! We feared the worst.” Kirna glanced down at the stretcher and then placed her hand over her gaping mouth.

  “Is he going to be alright?” Tycho asked.

  “I hope so. He was beaten pretty badly.” Chalice surveyed the site anxiously, screwing up her eyes. “Where are Ben and Bunejab?”

  “They’re still gone. They set out in the opposite direction with another party of Quaie’Miren. They should be back soon.”

  Tycho pointed to her shoulder. “What happened to you?”

  “It’s a long story.” She looked tiredly at her best friends. “It’s been a nightmare!”

  “I can imagine!” Kirna said. “Here, come over near the fire. We’ve got some food ready.”

  Chalice dismounted carefully and one of the men took Sunny from her as she strode over to the center of camp with her friends. She took a seat slowly on a rock near the fire, wincing in pain. She watched Ardenne’s brothers attentively as they carried Jeremiah into one of the tents. Kirna spooned soup into a wooden bowl for her. It was hot with spiced vegetables. She took a couple bites and then set it down in her lap. It was delicious, but she didn’t have much of an appetite. She was too worried. They listened to her keenly as she told them what happened since she had parted with them at the river.

  “You shouted at them?” Kirna’s eyes were wide.

  “I had to do something,” Chalice said as she took another small bite of soup. “They were going to kill him. All I could think was to keep their attention on me.”

  “So, they know now,” Tycho said.

  “Yes.” She nodded regretfully. “They were so angry about it, they sliced my shoulder. They also took the box.”

  “The box you got from the Chinuka?”

  “Yeah, but I still have the dagger. He dropped it when the Quaie’Miren attacked. His name was Rhaene.” Her face darkened. “I will remember him.”

  “You’re lucky they didn’t take your life as well, Chalice,” Kirna said.

  Tycho spluttered in disgust. “Yeah, no kidding. These guys are vicious!”

  “They’re more than that,” Kirna said, scowling. “They’re monsters.”

  Chalice looked up from her bowl at Ardenne who had just appeared next to the fire.

  “We’re leaving as soon as the other party gets back. I have instructed the men to begin packing. My father’s ship is waiting for us.”

  “Ardenne—” Chalice began.

  “Don’t worry, Chalice,” Ardenne interrupted. She knew exactly what Chalice was going to say. “I will have Master Graeystone take a look at him before we leave.”

  “Are you the leader of the Quaie’Miren?”

  “No, not yet,” Ardenne said and smiled. “I’m the leader of the group that was sent to find you. My father ordered me and my brothers to lead the operation.”

  “Who is your father?”

  “The Prophet.”

  “You have a prophecy, too?” Tycho asked. “It seems like everyone has one these days.”

  Ardenne shook her head. “No, not a prophecy, just a prophet. The Prophet leads the Quaie’Miren. We are always lead by one.”

  Is it safe to go with them? Chalice wondered. After all, she didn’t know them, but given that they had just risked their lives to save her and Jeremiah, she assumed that they could be trusted. Also, given their circumstance, it appeared they had no other option. She would ask Ben what he thought when he returned.

  She squinted when she saw a figure of a silver horse in the distance. It was Ben’s appaloosa. She stood bolt upright, spilling her soup, and ran toward him, ignoring her muscles that screamed in protest. When he spotted her, he spurred his horse into a gallop. As they approached, she could see Bunejab bouncing on the saddle in front. She shouted for them to hurry.

  “Jeremiah is hurt!” she cried out loudly and ran toward the tent. “This way!”

  When they reached it, they dismounted and Ben handed his horse’s reins to Ardenne’s brother. As soon as he entered, he let out an angry oath and bent on his knees toward Jeremiah, who was still on the stretcher. Placing his palm over Jeremiah’s forehead, he closed his eyes and his stone glowed a soft grey. After a minute, the light faded and he removed his hand.

  “This is bad. He has internal injuries as well as fractured bones. If I had gotten here any later, there would have been nothing I could do.” He looked up at everyone in the tent.

  “Can I ask you all to leave, please?” he said politely. “Except for Bunejab.”

  Chalice was indignant. She felt that she had a right to be there and did not want to leave.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked.

  Ben looked at her calmly. “I’m going to heal his internal injuries first. The bones will have to be healed later.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the Naeonic body can only handle so much healing at a time. It needs to recuperate and it is an exhausting process for the patient because it requires energy from the body. If I heal all of his injuries at once, he will die. If he was Terravailian, it would be different.”

  “Master Graeystone, we don’t have time,” Ardenne broke in. “We’re already preparing to leave for the ship.”

  “Why?”

  “We weren’t able to kill the three riders. They escaped.”

  “That is a problem,” he said. “Alright, we’ll do what is necessary for right now and finish the healing later on the ship. We’ll
work as quickly as we can.”

  “Why do we need to leave the tent?” Chalice asked stubbornly.

  “He has injuries all over his body, Chalice. We need to undress him. Bunejab needs to stay because he has medicine for the cuts and bruises.”

  She blushed. “Oh, I’m sorry. Alright.” Then, she turned to leave.

  “Ben …” she said.

  “Yes?”

  “Be careful.”

  “Of course,” he said reassuringly and they all left the tent.

  Chalice paced nervously outside the entrance as the others finished packing. Kirna and Tycho helped douse the fire and load the Quaie’Miren bags with supplies. They were placing the last of their belongings into their saddlebags when Ben came out with Bunejab on his heels. Chalice rushed over to him with an anxious question on her face.

  “He’ll be fine, but it will take a while for his body to heal. We have him wrapped in blankets for now. He’ll have to stay on the stretcher until we reach the ship.”

  “Is it safe, Ben?” she whispered. “I mean, to go with them?”

  Ben spoke quietly. “I don’t know, but we don’t really have any other choice at the moment. Without them, we’re not going to get very far given Jeremiah’s condition and I refuse leave him behind.”

  That makes two of us, she thought.

  “Besides,” he continued, “they’ve already helped us quite a bit.”

  “But why? Why are they going to so much trouble to help us?”

  “I guess we’ll find out,” he said and walked over to his mount.

  She watched as Aeron and Aden gently carried Jeremiah out of the tent. Her heart almost stopped when she saw him lying on the stretcher draped in blankets, motionless, with his eyes closed. Soon, the Quaie’Miren men had the tent packed and were ready to go. Those with horses mounted and a loud whistle from Ardenne announced their departure. Then, they all set off for the Kedros and the Quaie’Miren ship.