Chapter 3 – The Journey Begins
Author's Notes: Thank you to everyone who took time out of their days to review my story! You can't believe how much your comments encourage me. Remember to let me know what you think of this chapter!
If it hadn't been for those cold eyes staring at her, Kel might have been able to convince herself that this was a normal morning. After all, the sun was beating down on her head with the typical late summer drowsiness, she could hear the pleasant chirping of sparrows, and Jump was running around the courtyard, looking for any sort of attention he could get. Kel watched the scene in front of her, sighing. 'Except…'
Except it wasn't a normal morning in Corus, at least not for her and Joren. Today was the day that they began their "prophetic quest," as Sir Gareth had called it (or, according to Joren, the "magical journey of idiocy.")
Kel almost rolled her eyes when she remembered her fellow knight's snide remarks. He had been full of them lately. Nevertheless, she would not let him provoke her again. The next time he felt like fighting with someone, let him stumble upon an angry tauros. This time she allowed herself to grin at the mental image.
"What's your problem, Lump?" she immediately heard from beside her. "Buckling under the pressure already?"
She ignored him and mounted Peachblossom. He scowled at her and was about to climb onto his own horse when Raoul emerged from the small crowd surrounding them.
"Sir Joren, a word before you leave, if I might," he requested, but it came out more as a command.
Joren clearly looked exasperated but he stepped towards the older knight without any protest.
"I'll be waiting by the front gates," Kel called out to Joren, urging Peachblossom to a walk. She could tell that Raoul wanted to speak privately with Joren. Besides, she had already said her goodbyes earlier this morning. Suddenly she wheeled Peachblossom around as she remembered that her letters to her friends and family were still in her tunic pocket.
Raoul and Joren looked up at her as she came back into sight. "I need to leave my letters," she explained, holding them in her hand.
Joren frowned but reached for the letters. "Just hurry up and go to the front gates. I'll take them in myself."
Kel was about to protest but he grabbed them out of her grip before she could pull away.
"Now go, before you delay us even more," he said before stalking back into the palace.
Kel looked at Raoul, who had a too-innocent look on his ruddy face. "What did you say to him?"
"Kel, I didn't say anything! Just reminded him to be on guard during this journey." Then Raoul grinned widely. "I might have also threatened to carve him a new smile if anything happened to you, but I can't recall right now."
She smiled. Maybe that explained his slightly improved attitude. She could only hope that it would last.
* * *
"I'm going to find more water," Joren snapped as he disappeared into the dense forest, dead branches breaking under his strides.
Kel watched him go, tempted beyond reason to tackle him from behind and show him exactly why she was one of the best knights of Tortall. Ever since they had left Corus, Joren had reverted to his usual unpleasant, taunting self, if not worse.
They knew where they were, but they couldn't figure out where they were supposed to go. The translated copy of the prophecy that Sir Gareth had given them was so vague that it did nothing but confuse them more. After riding towards the northeast for several hours, Joren had decided that they should stop at a small clearing in the forest and eat lunch.
She hadn't been hungry at all, but she was still glad that he insisted on stopping. Maybe they would finally receive some sort of sign that showed them the next phase of their journey. For what seemed like the thousandth time that day, she unfolded the prophecy and her map, trying to make sense of the words.
'Where the winter sun rises, the two shall entrust their steps.
Enter the domain of Mithros and be wary of lying traps.'
The lines were not helpful at all. Joren had determined that the place where the winter sun rose meant the northeast, but he hadn't been able to figure out what the domain of Mithros was. Of course Mithros was the god of war and the sun, but how could you go to the sky? And Kel and Joren were already on their guard against any possible enemies, so the lying traps part didn't do anything but make them even more paranoid.
She sighed and went to Peachblossom's saddle bag, carefully tucking away the frustrating prophecy and map and pulling out some meat and bread for lunch. She settled down near the side of the clearing, watching for danger even as she nibbled on her cold sandwich.
A cool breeze fluttered the hair at the nape of her neck, and Kel smiled softly, feeling refreshed. 'I don't care how frustrating Joren and this journey are. At least I'm finally doing something.'
* * *
Joren crouched next to a small stream, letting the water flow into his leather-covered jug. "Damn you, Mithros," he muttered. "If this was what you meant for me to do, I'd rather you let me die in the Chamber."
He glanced up at the sky, as if waiting for a response, but after receiving none he looked back down with a scowl. His mind drifted away from his surroundings, drifted to his memories of that cursed day he had stepped into the Chamber of the Ordeal.
Joren pushed the heavy door closed behind him, waiting for something to happen. Nothing. Blackness. 'I don't see what the big deal-'
There was a flash of light, but he couldn't tell if it was in front of him or inside his head. It was blinding, and he crouched over from the pain. After he recovered, he straightened, only to see an image in front of him, almost life-like.
It was him as a child, crying as his father stood over him and shouted. 'Stop your tears, you coward. Men don't cry. Warriors don't cry. Are you a man, Joren, or a woman, a stupid beast? I always thought you were too pretty for a boy.'
Joren closed his eyes, shutting the scene out. He still remembered what he had done. 'I'm a man,' he had said, learning how to hide his emotions even though he had only been seven years old. 'I'm a warrior.'
And then more images came, more brutal memories. The beatings his father gave him in an effort to make his child stronger, the beatings he had given younger children in an effort to make himself stronger. The servant boy at Stone Mountain, the page he had fought in his first year, Merric, Owen, Mindelan. Except…these weren't mere images anymore. He was the one being attacked. Joren could feel each kick in the ribs, each punch across his cheek. And they hurt. Gods, they hurt him.
'Stop!' he screamed out loud, the word echoing off the dark walls of the Chamber. 'Stop this!'
Suddenly it stopped. Joren realized he was kneeling on the floor, gasping from the pain. He felt something wet obscure the vision in his right eye, and after touching it, he saw that it was blood.
'Why?' he asked, his voice rough.
'You have been judged,' a voice said. It was strong, and warm, and it terrified him.
'And?'
Another voice answered him. This one was lighter, reminiscent of a wind swaying fields of wild grass. 'You are deemed unworthy.'
Joren shook his head, struggling to rise to his feet. 'No. No, I won't accept that. I am worthy.' Clutching his ribs, knowing that several were broken, he gritted his teeth against his instinctive cry of pain and lurched to a standing position. 'I have fought too long and too hard to be killed in here. I won't let you do it.'
A pause, as if the two voices were conferring between themselves. Apparently, no one had ever protested their judgment.
'Does the pain not hurt?' the lighter voice asked.
Joren spat blood out of his mouth. 'Not enough to stop me.'
The first voice rumbled. Joren couldn't tell if that meant it was pleased or angry. 'Then, Joren of Stone Mountain, you shall truly be tested. If you survive this, you will leave Corus and become a true man. Then you will return here for us to determine if you deserve knighthood.'
'Test me, then. I will pass.'
He was knocked over onto his side, blows raining down on him again. He endured it for as long as he could before passing out.
After he awakened and healed, he left Corus, just as he had been told.
Joren had never told anybody what had happened during those six months between the first and second visit to the Chamber. He didn't intend to, either. That was a secret between him and the gods.
Lifting his now brimming water sack from the stream, he capped it and walked back to the clearing, hoping that Mindelan had managed to stay out of trouble while he'd been gone.
He saw her sitting against a tree near the horses, her eyes closed.
"You won't be able to spot enemies with your eyes shut," he said, sneaking up beside her.
Her eyes flared open and she narrowed her gaze at him. "I only shut them for a second. You just have unfortunate timing."
"Or fortunate. What if a spidren had attacked you? You would be dead."
Kel realized the truth of his words but refused to acknowledge it. He was far too arrogant already. "Did you find water?" she asked, changing the subject.
He nodded, crossing the short distance to his horse and tying the water sack on the saddle.
She stood up and followed him. "I made a sandwich for you," she said, offering him the food.
Joren looked at the sandwich almost suspiciously. Then he grabbed it and vaulted onto his horse, Arbor. "Let's go. Maybe we'll figure out just what we're supposed to be doing."
Kel quickly mounted Peachblossom, telling him to gallop so that they could catch up to Joren. "Hmph. He could have at least said thank you," she muttered. Peachblossom snorted in agreement.
* * *
The sun was rapidly setting as they saw a village through the trees of the forest.
"Should we stop there?" Kel asked, turning to look at Joren's impassive face.
He thought for a moment. "It's better than staying up all night keeping watch for immortals, I suppose. How much money do we have?"
"Enough. King Jonathan made sure of that."
He nodded. "All right."
They dismounted at the open gates to the village. Joren frowned.
"What it is?" Kel asked, noticing his expression. He frowned a lot, but this time he looked a little worried, too.
"Shouldn't they close the gates during the night?" he asked softly. "A village this small can't defend itself from enemies and predators."
"They were probably going to do it soon. It's not nighttime yet."
"Perhaps. You go find someplace for us to stay," he ordered, leaving the reins of his horse in her hand and walking away.
"Where are you going?" she called out.
"To figure out why there's no one outside," he replied.
His words made Kel realize that he was right; no one was outside, not even a stray dog. It was a tiny village, so maybe its people went to sleep early. 'But not this early.'
There was a row of shops to her left, a large building immediately behind it, and several rows of houses on her right. Kel decided to go to the left; maybe there would be an inn.
She walked down the dirt path, too rustic to be called a street, tugging the reins of the two horses. All the shops seemed to be closed, judging by the darkness inside each one. 'Where is everyone?'
The end of the street curved back, leading to the large building she had seen earlier. Maybe this was the inn. As she neared it, she saw gratefully that there were at least lights on inside. She found a tree nearby and tied the horses to one of the low branches, then went to the building to ask for a place to stay.
Kel knocked on the rough wooden door and heard voices inside. The door swung open abruptly and she stared at an old man, his face craggy and weathered.
"What do you want?" he demanded, his voice as rough as his face.
Her eyebrows drew together. What was wrong with this village? "I am Kelandry of Mindelan, a knight of Tortall," she said. "My fellow knight and I are searching for-"
"I don't see anyone else," the man interrupted.
"He'll be here in a moment," she explained. "Do you happen to have any spare-"
"Are you a healer?" he interrupted again.
"What? No," she said, beginning to become exasperated.
"Is the other knight?"
"No, he's not either. We do have some healing supplies, though."
"Then for gods' sakes, go get them!" he almost shouted. "Can't you see we need help?" A cry came from inside the building and he rushed inside, leaving the door half open.
Something was definitely wrong here. Kel ran in after him, needing to know what was happening, why he was so frantic, why the village was so empty.
She stepped into a large hall. This building was probably the village's temple, school, and meeting place all in one. Tables were strewn across the hard-packed dirt ground, in no organized fashion she could discern.
"Goddess," she breathed, seeing what was on the tables. Bodies. Most of them were adults but she saw some children too. All were hurt. There was blood everywhere. She had never seen so much blood in her life, not even during the pirate invasion of the Yamani emperor's palace.
She turned around swiftly and raced back outside, straight into Joren.
"What are you doing?" he snapped, grabbing her shoulders and steadying her.
"Getting our healing supplies," she snapped back. "They're dying inside."
"What?" he exclaimed. Pushing her out of the way, he ran inside. She ignored his shove and went to get the supplies herself.
When she returned, she saw that there was an expression of horror and nausea on his face. It mirrored her own. She stood next to him, not knowing what to do now that she had the healing supplies. Thankfully, she didn't have to know. The old man who had answered the door saw the two knights and rushed over to take the healing balm and bandages.
"What happened?" she asked, following him to one of the tables. She ruthlessly controlled her nausea at the sight of the blood seeping into the dirt.
"We were attacked," the man answered, efficiently wrapping a bandage around the unconscious patient's near-severed arm.
"What could cause this much damage?" Joren demanded. He reached over to hold the bandage in place as the old man pinned it securely.
"Damned immortals," he answered. "What else? Mostly spidrens," he went on, spitting at the name, "and a tauros or two."
For the next several hours Kel and Joren worked with the unharmed villagers to do the best they could in helping the wounded. Even their added supplies weren't enough, though. There were too many people dying already.
Kel followed an elderly woman to the next table. A young woman, a few years younger than Kel, was lying on the table, her face tight with pain.
"Now, Lessal, you just be strong for me, all right?" the old woman said, motioning to Kel for the healing balm. "The knight is here to help you."
Lessal nodded. Her eyes fixed on Kel. "A lady knight? The Lioness?"
Kel shook her head as she gave the balm to the old woman. "No, I am Kel." She saw how pale Lessal was, probably from the blood loss of her many cuts and gashes. None of them alone were fatal, but together… Kel could feel her throat tightening as she looked at the girl who was so young, her pain-filled eyes too innocent.
"Could you hold my hand, please, Kel?" Lessal asked, so quietly that Kel almost didn't hear her.
She tightened her hand on the younger girl's, feeling how weak it was. She looked at the old woman, who was smearing a tiny amount of balm on each cut. She opened her mouth, about to tell her that so little balm would do nothing, but then the old woman shook her head quickly.
Kel understood then. Lessal was going to die anyway. They didn't want to waste any of the healing balm. The old woman had put on enough to dull the pain, but nothing more.
She held Lessal's hand tighter, letting the hot tears fall from her eyes. She didn't care that she was breaking years of Yamani training. A life this young deserved to be properly mourned.
By sunrise, a little less than half of the wounded had died. Kel stumbled outside, needing to breathe fresh air and gather her thoughts. She walked to where Peachblossom and Arbor were calmly grazing where they had been tied, as if they didn't realize all the death that had happened during the night.
"Too much for you to take, Mindelan?"
She ignored the familiar taunting voice and stroked Peachblossom's long neck.
"I should have known. The first sign of trouble and the Lump is ready to give up."
"Shut up, Joren," she bit out with her back still to him. "I don't need to explain myself to you."
"Why don't you just turn around and go back to the palace now, little girl? If you can't handle this, then I don't want you coming with me."
Kel spun around, swinging at him with her fist. He was ready for her and quickly ducked, catching her arm in his grip.
"You think you're so much better than the rest of us," she said, trying to pull her arm of out his grasp. "Is this just another regular day for you, Joren? People are dying, and we can't do anything about it. I'm sorry that I can't handle it as well as you. Maybe you enjoy seeing other people suffer, and that's why you're so calm. I can't stand the sight of it, though. Because I'm actually human, and you're a monster."
He yanked her arm, and suddenly she was inches away from his face, staring into his fierce blue eyes. "You don't know what you're saying, Mindelan. You don't know anything about me." He released her roughly and stalked back inside the building.
* * *
"Thank you again for your help, noble knights," the old man, Keneran, said. He had turned out to be the governor of the village, a place called Oakpost that wasn't drawn on their map.
After helping clean the building as best they could, Kel and Joren had determined that it was time to continue on their journey. They had promised to send word about the immortals attack to Corus as soon as they found a town with a telegram service. Keneran had given them bags full of food and wine as well as warm blankets for the horses to make up for the used-up healing supplies. It quickly became colder up north, he had explained.
"Remember to keep the gates closed," Joren answered. "Don't let anyone out of the town anymore."
Keneran nodded. "We will protect what we have left, Sir Joren."
They rode off together in silence. Joren was being his usual hostile self, while Kel refused to be the first to say something. Let him dwell on their last argument.
The sun was shining directly overhead when Joren flicked a quick glance at Kel. "Check the map," he ordered.
She glared at him but complied. "We're about two hours away from the next town. Baldurel."
He nodded and turned his attention back to the path.
"Will we stop for lunch?" she asked, still glaring at his back.
"No," he answered shortly. "I don't know if there are more immortals roaming these forests. We'll eat as we ride."
They approached Baldurel just as Joren was ready to fall off Arbor out of sheer exhaustion. He'd be damned if he admitted his weariness though. Especially to Mindelan.
"Let's stop here for today," he decided. "It looks like it's big enough to have a telegram service."
"I'll go look for it," she offered quickly, dismounting and pulling Peachblossom behind her.
He turned in the other direction to find an inexpensive but serviceable inn. Hopefully one with a tavern. He found one easily enough. After brushing Arbor down and leaving him in the stable, he immediately headed to the tavern. Even though it was mid-afternoon, the tavern was already crowded.
Joren found an empty table in the corner and he sank as nobly as he could into the chair facing the door. He lifted his hand, motioning for a drink. Let Mindelan find the inn on her own. After she had called him a monster, one who enjoyed the pain of others, he wasn't feeling too charitable towards her.
He couldn't even determine why her accusation had made him so mad. He had been called much worse in his lifetime. Maybe it was because the accusation came from her, the one person who managed to rouse his temper by simply appearing in his line of sight.
He could feel the curious glances of the other patrons on him. Apparently they had never seen someone as wealthy- and noble-looking in their tavern before.
A serving wench brought his drink over, giving him an inviting look. He let his gaze run over her, evaluating her. She was too crass for his tastes, with her chest almost falling out of her bodice. Still, it would probably be a while before Mindelan managed to find the inn. He might as well enjoy himself until then.
Gulping down his drink quickly, he pulled her upstairs to his room.
* * *
Kel peeked into the stable of the third inn she passed. She spotted Arbor standing placidly in one of the stalls and felt like running over and kissing the dark brown horse. After sending the telegram to Corus she had realized that Baldurel was much larger than Oakpost, and therefore had many more inns. And Joren had not told her which inn he would go to. She had resigned herself to searching each inn's stable and looking for Arbor, but luckily Joren had not ventured far into the town and had stopped at the Laughing Minstrel.
She nodded to the young stableboy who was dozing in the corner and let Peachblossom into the stall next to Arbor. After retrieving her saddlebags and food, she ignored the door leading to the tavern and went inside the main entrance to find Joren.
A stout man, who she assumed to be the innkeeper, stared at her when she entered. "Did a man, a few inches taller than me and with shoulder-length white-blond hair come here?"
He nodded. "Aye, 'n he said he was expectin' a lady."
"That would be me."
The innkeeper nodded again. "He's upstairs. The room at the end o' the hall, on the left."
Kel trudged up the narrow stairs, eager to take a cool bath and rest. She hadn't slept since the night before she left Corus. Her mood darkened as she recalled why there had been no sleep last night.
She turned the doorknob but it was locked. "Joren, it's me," she called, knocking on the door.
Joren frowned in the darkness. Mindelan had found the inn sooner than he had expected. He almost wished the serving wench was still with him now, if only because it would offend Mindelan amusingly. Regretfully, he had already sent her away. Her breath had reeked of day-old meat and she hadn't bathed in at least a week.
He rose from the bed and unlocked the door. "Took you long enough," he said by way of greeting.
"Clever," she muttered, dumping the saddlebags on the only chair in the room. "You better leave. I need to take a bath."
"I'm not leaving," he replied, lying back down on the bed. "You can ignore my presence, can't you?"
She turned to stare at him. "You're not going to leave?"
"No. I'm tired."
"Fine. Where did you put the money? I'll rent another room."
He laughed, which annoyed her insufferably. "I already tried that. This was the only available room."
"What? Why did you choose this inn if it only had one room left?" she demanded, her usually calm demeanor quickly fading.
"Because this inn is safer than most of the others in this town."
"We're knights. We can handle trouble."
"Go find another inn, then," he replied blithely. "You can stay up all night guarding your possessions and your horse, while I enjoy my rest."
Kel sighed, knowing as well as he that she wasn't going to do that. "Can't you at least turn around while I bathe?"
He didn't answer immediately, which made her blush. At least the curtains by the window had been drawn, so that the darkness in the room hid her color.
"You don't want me watching?" he asked smoothly.
"No!" she exclaimed quickly. She could hear him laughing again. 'As serene as a lake, Kel.' "Of course I don't want you watching. Will you turn around or not?"
"Don't worry, Mindelan, I wouldn't want to watch you anyway. It'd be like looking at a boy."
She left the room to call for a bath basin and water to be brought up, clenching her teeth in an effort to ignore his immature comment.
Joren grinned to himself after she closed the door. It was getting easier and easier to provoke her. He had finally discovered the key: either insult her femininity or flirt with her. It was almost too easy now.
He walked to the saddlebags and took enough food to make himself an early supper. Then he searched through her bags until he found the map and copy of the prophecy.
When Kel returned, he was settled in the chair facing the corner, with an apple in his right hand and the prophecy in the his left. She was grateful that she wouldn't have to argue with him again while she took her bath. She stepped into the basin, her back towards him.
Joren listened to the soft sounds of the water splashing, trying to keep his mind from picturing Mindelan naked. She was the Lump, after all. Practically sexless. She couldn't decide if she wanted to be a woman or a man. Before he could stop himself, he turned around and took a quick glance at her. Then he whipped back around to face the corner again. 'Definitely a woman. Damn it.' He bit into the apple and tried to concentrate on the frustratingly vague prophecy.
"I'm done," Kel announced.
"Good," he muttered. He tossed the remains of the apple onto a tray near the door for a servant to take away.
She saw the paper in his hands. "Well, where are we going tomorrow?"
He shrugged. "We'll just continue northeast. The directions on this are worthless."
"For once we agree," she murmured to herself, although he heard her. "I'll go check the horses."
By the time she had come back from feeding and grooming Peachblossom and Aubur, the water basin was gone. Joren was lying on the bed, his back to her. It was then that she realized there was only one bed in the room, one small bed, and Joren had already claimed it. She slammed the door behind her, but Joren didn't even stir.
'I hate him,' Kel thought to herself. 'I hate him, I hate him, I hate-' She tripped on his boots and was ready to scream. She didn't, though. She refused to give him the satisfaction.
When she drew near enough to the bed she saw that Joren had thrown most of the covers and a pillow on the floor, presumably for her. She sighed. At least she didn't have to wrestle them away from him.
After a few minutes of trying to arrange the sheets into a comfortable bed, she gave up and simply collapsed. Her muscles were exhausted, and her eyes were watery from not being able to rest properly. Her stubborn mind, though, was still active, brimming over with questions.
"Joren," she said softly.
She heard him grumble something as the bed creaked. "What?" he demanded in a clipped tone.
"Do you think Oakpost had anything to do with the prophecy?"
"I don't know," he said quickly, giving her the impression that he had already thought of that possibility himself. "It didn't say anything."
"But it's possible, isn't it?"
"I suppose it is. Why?" he questioned.
"Sir Gareth said this is a magical journey. And immortals are closely related to magic. Maybe the journey has something to do with them."
Joren didn't answer her this time, and Kel took his silence to mean that the discussion was over. She sighed again and buried her face against the pillow that smelled surprisingly clean. "Good night," she said, almost to herself because she didn't expect him to answer.
A pause from the bed, and then Joren replied with his own mumbled "Good night."
* * *
"King Jonathan, there is something I must show you."
The king looked up, his usually brilliant cobalt eyes weary. "Yes, what is it, Sir Gareth? Something to do with the increased immortal attacks?"
Sir Gareth shook his head. "No, unfortunately, I have discovered nothing new about that. But this, this is something incredible." He stepped closer to the king and held up a yellowed and delicate-looking piece of parchment.
"What is this?" asked King Jonathan, peering at the writing. "This is in the Old Language."
"Yes, but look carefully," Sir Gareth urged.
The two men watched in surprise as more words appeared under the lines that had already been written. The king was astounded. "It's…"
"Yes, it's writing more as Joren and Kel fulfill more of the prophecy!" Sir Gareth exclaimed, almost beside himself. "This is amazing. I've never heard anything like it."
"What does it say?" the kind demanded.
"What? Oh yes." Sir Gareth read it slowly, after the words stopped appearing. "Let's see. Roughly translated, it says that the aid of the two saved a village and drew the attention of a growing evil."
"What growing evil? It's too vague," King Jonathan complained.
"Rest easy, King Jonathan," Sir Gareth reassured him. "After a day or two, I'm sure that more will be added as Joren and Kel continue on their quest."
King Jonathan shook his head. 'A growing evil…' How could he rest easy when the lives of two of his best knights and the fate of his kingdom was being threatened by a growing evil? It was impossible.
'May the Goddess and Mithros protect them,' he prayed silently.