Foretellers (The Ydron Saga Book 3) (17 page)

“Look, Roanna! Look what I’ve found. Aren’t they wonderful?”

Roanna raised her eyes from her work to see Sylene almost dancing up the road. She was grinning broadly and her arms were laden to overflowing with flowers.

“I thought they’d burned everything,” Sylene shouted. “But look at these.”

Roanna and Simo had spent the last several days laboring to create a new vegetable garden after the fires the marauders had set, as they had done to countless other homes in the surrounding countryside. By some inexplicable miracle—perhaps a last minute change in wind direction—the flames had come to within a few feet of Sylene’s house, then halted abruptly. None of the group had seen the event, but the scorched soil and charred vegetation stood in mute witness to the fortunate occurrence. For scores of yards in several directions, the land had been burned and the ground leading up to the walls of her home was black and desolate. Even so, in the midst of it all, the house stood untouched.

When they had arrived, it looked for all the world as if the owner had just gone off to run an errand. Curtains blew in the breeze. A few hardy plants were still green in the pots arrayed on some of the window ledges. In those initial minutes, Sylene had leapt from the wagon and strode around the property in mute disbelief, mouth agape, eyes wide, in obvious shock. She threw her arms wide, as if to ask the world to explain how this had happened, turning first one way, then another, either unable or unwilling to comprehend the destruction’s reality. It was not until she noticed the house that she dropped to her knees and stared. As if suddenly comprehending how it had been spared, she ran her hands through her hair, let out a shriek and turned to her friends as if asking, “Do you see this too?” Whether the cry was born of relief or amazement, Roanna could not say. Nonetheless, it mobilized the party and each in turn began climbing from the wagon. They went to the house and stood aside to allow Sylene to enter first.

“Voreth’s horns!” exclaimed Maryam upon following her inside. “Where do you expect me to sleep?”

Sylene wheeled on the woman. Maryam’s men had carted off everything, so nothing was left.

“On the floor, like the rest of us,” she snapped, gesturing at the emptiness. “How dare you complain? You should be thanking me for even allowing you inside. Be grateful I’m not as contemptible as you and thank the gods you’re still alive and have a roof to sleep beneath.”

They spent the next several days trying to make the house livable. The well was still full and its water palatable. In one kitchen drawer, they found a spark stone, so there would be fire. A small sack containing several cups of salt had not proven attractive enough booty, so the group could season their food, provided they could find some. The small supply they had brought was now exhausted. Water would sustain them for a while, but how long they could last without food was a question none cared to answer. Certain that the fast they now faced would deplete them of energy long before they actually perished, Simo began taking the wagon on daily forays, searching for anything useful.

On the first day out, he located an untouched outbuilding at a nearby farm and returned with a stack of horse blankets, lye soap and an assortment of tools. Two days later, in a burned out village, he came upon pots, pans and household implements, as well as two large sacks of dried beans, three sacks of grain and half a dozen small, unmarked bags of seeds the fires had spared. A portion of a store had collapsed on top of them. He recognized radish seeds in one bag and hoped the others would yield more interesting produce. Nonetheless, this bounty brought them all to tears, for it meant they would not starve. With any luck, by the time the beans and grain ran out, the seeds would have grown into something edible.

His greatest victories came on the fourth and fifth days when he eventually managed to round up a total of seven chickens and a cock. At first, he had stumbled onto the rooster and two hens. They had been pecking for something to eat near a barn’s skeletal remains. Although the chickens had escaped, he managed to grab the rooster after somewhat more than an hour spent chasing him. Since the male seemed disinclined to stray far from the females, a combination of patience and good luck allowed Simo to grab the bird before it could fly from the fencepost on which it had been roosting.

Intuiting that the chickens would want their rooster as much as the cock wanted his hens, he returned the next day with the he-bird. He also brought a portion of grain as an added enticement along with Sylene, Roanna and a less reluctant Maryam than he had expected. Apparently, the prospect of having fresh eggs to supplement the beans was too great a temptation for the woman to ignore. It took several hours, but the bait eventually proved too much for even the wariest hen. The cries of the rooster, coupled with the temptation of so much fresh grain, attracted five more than Simo had spotted earlier. The group rejoiced for they would have enough eggs for all on a regular basis. With the chickens cooped inside Maryam’s now-empty crates, they rode back to Sylene’s, secure in the knowledge they would not starve.

Now, as Sylene arrived gasping, too encumbered to sweep aside the cascade of hair tumbling into her face, Roanna shared her amazement. In her arms were bunches of fragrant tender morrasa blossoms, flowers that should not have survived a conflagration.

“Where did you find them?” asked Roanna, reaching to touch them, then withdrawing for fear of damaging or discoloring their petals with her soil-caked hands.

“Let me put them in the kitchen. Then I’ll tell you all about them.”

As they spread this unexpected treasure on a table, then proceeded to place bouquets into improvised vases—two buckets and a pitcher Simo had scavenged—Sylene explained, “This morning I decided to explore and climbed the ridge behind the house. I’d completely forgotten about the ravine out back and was shocked to see how green it was. A stream runs through it. I think it may be what feeds the well. It certainly keeps the ground around it moist. It’s like as oasis. In the middle of all this… ” She looked out the window and gestured toward the desolation. “ …the little valley is alive. The fires somehow passed it over. The upper portions of the ridges on either side suffered, but the valley itself…

“Anyhow, I spent the last several hours exploring. I know I should have been working, but I couldn’t help myself.”

“Don’t worry,” Roanna assured her. “I probably would have done the same. Maybe you can show everyone tomorrow.”

Sylene smiled at this, then went on, her look transforming to one of astonishment.

“The place is lush!” she exclaimed. “Even though I couldn’t find anything else we could use, I found these,” she said, indicating the flowers. “There are hundreds.”

Roanna laughed.

“Even if there’s nothing there to eat,” said Roanna, “at least we can enjoy some beauty. Who knows? If the stream has any fish, maybe Simo can find a way to catch… ”

She halted mid-sentence, blinded by a sharp burst of pain. Her head felt as if it were coming apart and she dropped the blossoms she was holding. She grabbed the table to keep from tumbling backwards and thought she heard Sylene asking if she was alright. And then, she was no longer inside the house.

Riders armed with swords and spears were pouring into the valley where Sylene’s residence stood. They were coming by the hundreds, some holding bright orange banners with the image of a lion. At their head rode the warrior with the topknot. Although they were proceeding at a trot, she knew beyond any doubt they were coming this way and, unlike her earlier vision, when she could not determine with certainty if what she saw lie in the distant or the immediate future, she was sharply aware they were coming now.

With an effort, she drove the vision from her head and forced her mind back into the room. She found herself kneeling and doubled over and realized she had somehow fallen. Someone had a hand on her arm and another around her waist.

“Roanna! Wake up! Are you alright?”

It was Sylene. She was behind her and struggling to lift her to her feet.

“Simo! Maryam! Anybody! Help me!” she shouted.

The vision threatened once more to envelope her, but Roanna realized if she allowed herself to sink back into it, all would be lost. Focusing on the present, she steadied herself and rose with Sylene’s assistance, hoping her legs would support her. Turning to face her friend, she gasped.

“We have to go. We have to leave at once.”

Movement in the corner of her eye caused Roanna to turn and see Simo approaching. Still several feet beyond the open door, he was brushing soil from his clothes as he hurried toward the house. He entered the kitchen, glanced from Roanna to Sylene, and his lips began forming a question.

Before he could speak, Roanna said, “An army is coming.” As his expression transformed from concern into puzzlement, she grabbed his arms. “We have to go. I don’t have time to explain, but you have to trust me. They’ll be here any time now and if we don’t leave at once, they will kill us.”

“What’s this about?” demanded Maryam as she sauntered through the door. “I hope you have a good reason for interrupting my nap.”

She placed a hand on the jamb and propped her bulk against it. Everything about her, from her posture to the expression on her face, spoke of her contempt for the others.

“I’m… not sure,” Sylene began.

“An army is coming,” Roanna insisted. “We have to hide while there is still time.”

Her eyes went from Maryam, now rolling her eyes, to Simo and Sylene, looking for a sign even one of them believed her. When all she received were disbelieving stares, she told them, “If it turns out I’m wrong, I’ll apologize and you can say whatever you will about me. You’ll lose nothing by coming with me, except a few minutes’ time. But please, we have to go now.”

“She’s crazy,” said Maryam. “Just look outside. There’s no one coming.”

Yet, even as Maryam began railing against her sanity, Roanna snatched two bean cakes from a cupboard and stuffed them into her pockets. She grabbed a water skin and headed for the door. Pausing at the threshold, she turned to make one final plea, then changed her mind. She was turning to go when Sylene broke ranks.

“Somehow, I believe her,” she told the others.

Casting an encouraging smile to Roanna, she followed her out the door.

Maryam shouted after her, “If you abandon your house, don’t come begging me to give it back.”

Neither turned to look, alternating between a hurried walk and a trot as they went.

“Where is this stream you were telling me about?” Roanna asked.

“The other side of that rise,” Sylene replied, pointing westward.

Roanna glanced ahead. When she looked back, she saw the unasked question written on Sylene’s face.

“I see things… in the future,” she explained. “Or at least I used to. I think I may be starting to see them again. I know it sounds crazy, but I’ve been doing it all my life.”

Although Sylene’s expression remained doubtful, she gave a tentative nod.

“Like when you warned us earlier,” she suggested.

Roanna nodded.

They were halfway to the ridge top when Roanna heard someone shouting behind them. She glanced back in dread, half expecting to see some warrior in pursuit. Instead, it was Simo driving the wagon toward them. Almost standing on the footboards, he was snapping the reins, shouting and urging the team to a gallop.

“Sylene, wait!” said Roanna.

She reached out, touched her arm and the two stood watching.

Simo’s face was a mask of uncertainty. Like Sylene’s, it showed how much he was torn between wanting to believe this woman he barely knew and suspecting he was acting like a fool. He glanced back past his shoulder, but the surrounding land remained empty. Still, he chewed on his lip, jerked his head toward the seat beside him and ordered, “Get in.”

“Thank you,” said Roanna as she climbed on beside him.

He gave a curt nod and watched as Sylene pulled herself aboard after her.

“Where to?” he asked.

When Sylene explained about the rill and the valley it ran through, he raised his brows.

“Really?” he said, sounding more surprised than disbelieving.

She smiled and nodded vigorously.

“Alright then,” he said. “The worst that can happen is Roanna will be wrong and we’ll spend some time wading in the brook.”

He snapped the reins and the team started off, not at the gallop Roanna would have preferred, but at a vigorous trot. She expected it was the best she could hope for until Simo believed her, knowing the pace they were setting was faster than she and Sylene could have managed on foot. Even so, she positioned herself sideways on the seat, alternating her attention between the destination ahead and the danger following from behind.

Halting the team at the summit, Simo laughed.

“By the gods. Who would have guessed?”

Even Roanna, who had some idea what to expect, was caught by the valley’s lushness. It was alive with flowers and greenery and elicited a cry of joy from her as well. Before anyone could comment further, the wagon lurched forward as the horses began moving on their own, perhaps drawn by the scent of fresh water. A quick glance behind showed the house was still undisturbed, but a sound like distant thunder caused the three to look back as the wagon crested the lip and the ridge obscured the wasteland behind.

“Where to?” Simo asked.

Sylene studied the valley.

“Perhaps there,” she said, almost rising as she pointed towards a grove of barrel stave trees a hundred yards distant. “Maybe if someone follows, they won’t see us hiding.”

“If anyone thinks to learn what lies on this side of the ridge,” he said, “the tracks we are leaving will take them straight to us.”

Roanna turned and could see that the wheels were leaving unmistakable grooves.

“Our only hope,” Simo added, “is that the land around the house is already heavily marked and their horses will add to the confusion.”

“So you believe me,” said Roanna.

“I wasn’t sure before,” replied Simo, “but something is coming and there aren’t any storm clouds.”

“Do you think Maryam will give us away?” Sylene asked.

“That woman will do whatever she can to save her hide,” Roanna replied.

“Then maybe we should keep moving.”

Simo shook his head.

“If they learn we are here,” he said, “we can’t outrun them. I do think you are right, though. We’ll head for the trees. If we get lucky and they kill Maryam before she can tell them what she knows… ”

When the women gaped in horror at his words, he said, “Look. I’m just trying to consider real possibilities. I don’t know who’s coming, and these days it doesn’t much matter. They’re either warriors or outlaws. In either case, chances are they’re going to murder whoever they find. Even if she doesn’t tell them we’re here, but someone comes looking, the trees may provide enough cover they won’t see us.”