AutumnQuest (10 page)

The night Luzan left to battle in Alloway’s war of independence from neighbouring Ultria, Jozzmin pledged her love. She swore by all that was dear to her that she would never be parted from Luzan in life, in death, or even in the Otherworld.

Before the first light of morning, Luzan, believing Jozzmin would follow him to battle, spelled her into a deep sleep. He promised to return, having earned honour and glory on the battlefield.

These things he won, but also death, for his final adversary, with his dying breath, plunged his sword through a rent in Luzan’s armour and into his heart.

News of Luzan’s death reached Jozzmin the next day, brought by the birds, the forest creatures, even the trees themselves. But she did not weep. Instead, she packed the few things needed for a journey and left her home.

In the western foothills of the Martemont Mountains, she met Prince Ollon—he who eventually became King Ollon, Third Absolute Monarch of Alloway—who, struck by Jozzmin’s great beauty, refused to tell her where the battle in which Luzan died had been fought. Nothing the prince said could turn Jozzmin from her purpose. By day’s end and with the help of an illusion, she managed to slip away from the prince and his men.

Truly, Jozzmin hadn’t been in need of help from the prince, for she was directed to her destination by the birds, the forest creatures, even the trees.

The battlefield was a large meadow halfway up the western marches of the Martemonts. The pyre of Ollon’s enemies still steamed and smoked, filling the air with an acrid stench.

Jozzmin searched an hour until she found where Luzan lay in his cold grave.

And she wept.

When she was done, the ground was as wet with her tears as the battlefield had been before with warriors’ blood.

She drew her dagger and honed it to a sharper edge than ever before . . . so sharp that she felt no pain when she sliced open her wrists.

Jozzmin lay on Luzan’s grave, her lifeblood and love’s tears soaking into the earth. Her last thought was to imagine the beautiful flowers that would grow there in some distant Spring, testament to the love between Luzan and her.

When she awoke, she found herself clasped tight to Luzan’s breast as he slept. Jozzmin stirred, awakening him.

“Well met, my love,” he said, leaning down, kissing her brow with tender lips.

Jozzmin smiled. “And now we will dwell together forever in Otherworld.”

“Otherworld? Nay, nay, my love. Look around you.”

Jozzmin sat up to find herself and her love sitting yet in the battlefield meadow. They left word of their fate with the birds, the creatures of the forest, even the trees themselves, and disappeared forever from the ken of Alloway.

~from
The Book of Lore

By halfway through the next day, I’d grown thoroughly grateful for Traz’s company. He had an unerring sense of direction and a cheerful air that oozed confidence. As we made our way through the woods, he found paths that I would have missed. Every time he spotted a deer track that would correct the direction in which we were traveling, I became a little more ashamed of my own woodcraft.

“How do you do that?” I asked the third time.

“I dunno. I guess I just think like an animal.”

“I think not!” exclaimed Xyla, and I bit back the chuckle that rose to my lips.

The track widened out a little, and Traz and I walked abreast, with Xyla running ahead or falling behind as the mood—or the hunting—took her.

“So, Donavah, I’ve been meaning to ask you about something.” Traz sounded tentative, as if he were unsure how I would react to the question he had on his mind.

“Go ahead,” I said, curious.

“Well, it’s two questions, really. First of all, how did that Guardsman find you? And how did you get away?”

“Oh, that. Well . . .” I paused a moment. How much should I tell him? Once I organized my thoughts, I told him everything that had happened. He didn’t say a word when I was finished, but I noticed that he started kicking stones as we walked. Somehow, that small act of indignation was comforting.

That evening, while our stew—fresh rabbit courtesy of Xyla—simmered, Traz dug down into his pack and pulled out a sheathed belt knife, which he threaded onto my belt.

The next day, we approached a small village. Wanting to get an idea of whether there was any news, I asked Xyla to wait while we went in.

We stopped on the outskirts. “We need to have a story in case anyone asks. You’re my brother, all right?”

He gave me a ridiculous grin. “All right, sis,” he said, and I reached over to tousle his hair.

“And we’re traveling to Drumy,” I said. “To visit our aunt, who’s sick.”

“Because you’re a healer.”

“Yes. Good one. That’ll work.”

We headed into the village. Tension lay thick in the air, but there was no one around, not even children playing in the front gardens. A few times, I felt watching eyes after we passed a house, and once I looked over my shoulder to see a woman with a pale face in an upstairs window.

When we reached the village square, we finally saw some people, mostly market traders in their stalls with a few buyers. The scent of freshly baked bread wafted across the square, and my mouth started to water. I had a few coins that Kibee had given me for the journey. Bread and cheese would make a welcome addition to our food stores.

I started walking directly towards the market stalls, but Traz grabbed my arm and pulled me into the thick cover of a weeping willow planted next to a stream that trickled past the square. He gave me a look as if I were utterly mad.

“We’ve got to be careful,” he hissed between clenched teeth. “Especially you.”

“Why?” I asked, though his fear began to seep into me. “We just walked halfway through the village, where anyone could’ve seen us.”

He rolled his eyes. “Look at that fruit stand,” he said, pointing.

There stood a Royal Guardsman, leaning over a table piled high with fruit and speaking with the vendor, who leaned close, as if the Guardsman were whispering. When the Guardsman stepped away, the fruit vendor began carefully watching the few people milling about.

I shrank back closer to the tree trunk. If either of those men—or any of the other Guardsmen that I now saw standing around—looked directly at us, they’d surely investigate. Why would anyone stand under a weeping willow if they weren’t hiding something? Traz pressed against me.

Soon, the sounds of commotion reached us. Shouts and screams and children crying. A large group of people came into view, walking up the street Traz and I had just traveled. Several Guardsmen were using whips and their horses to drive the crowd of villagers into the square. Then more people were herded in from other streets.

One Guardsman with a white crest on his helm, went through the crowd directing people to one side of the square or the other. Before long it became clear that he was separating the children from the adults. Traz and I exchanged nervous glances.

Finally, the Guardsman with the crest, who I thought must be an officer, bellowed for silence. Some of the smaller children continued to wail, but older ones tried to hush them.

“We seek a criminal. A girl of fifteen years. She is fair-skinned, with long straight brown hair and dark brown eyes. We have reason to believe that she will travel in this direction.” He paused as if waiting for someone to speak.

A villager obliged. “We’ve seen no one like that, your honor. But you may be sure that if we do—”

The officer cut him off. “To ensure your cooperation, we will take one in ten of your children—”

Cries of outrage rose from the adults. My knees buckled. Traz put an arm around my waist to support me, and I gripped the tree trunk tightly.

The officer cracked his whip and a woman near him pitched to the ground. Several others bent down to help her.

“I say that one tenth of your children will be taken and held until this criminal is turned over to the king for justice.”

Several of the other Guardsmen pushed through the crowd of children, randomly selecting those who would be held for ransom. For me. My mouth went dry.

I slid to the ground and turned my back on the scene, leaning against the trunk of the tree and closing my eyes against what I’d just witnessed.

“We’ve got to get away from here,” I whispered.

“Yes, but not while that lot is still hanging around. I don’t think we’ll be able to leave until dark.”

I nodded wearily. As usual, Traz was right.

The day crawled by. I wished I could sleep, but every time I closed my eyes, I saw images of terrified children being carried away by soldiers and distraught parents being held back from chasing after.

At some point, I must’ve dozed off, because I opened my eyes to find Traz gone. Fighting panic, I stood up to get a better view to try to see where he might’ve gone.

Standing just beyond the curtain of willow branches and staring straight at me was the pale-faced woman I’d seen in the window as we’d walked into the village. A bright red weal stood out on her face now; she must have been the one whom the Royal Guardsman struck with his whip.

A surge of fear went through me. Was she going to turn me in? Surely she would if it meant getting her hostage children back. I wanted to beg her not to, but no words rose to my lips. All she did, though, was nod at me slowly once, twice, thrice. Then she turned away and disappeared, leaving behind a trace of power.

I stood there shaking, wondering what it all meant. Had she sensed something about me as I now did about her? Or was she off to fetch the Guardsmen? I wished Traz were here. Where had he gone anyway?

It was beginning to get dark before I found out. By that time, I’d concluded that the woman hadn’t turned me in to the Royal Guard, although I couldn’t figure out what she
had
meant by her actions.

As quietly as a gentle breeze, Traz crept under the cover of the weeping willow branches, startling me and almost making me cry out aloud in surprise. He sat facing me.

“Where’ve you been?” I demanded in a whisper, wanting both to kiss and to strangle him.

He gave me one of his grins and held up a finger dramatically. Then he unbelted his tunic and let slip to his lap about half a dozen bread rolls, a wedge of cheese, and some fresh apples and plums.

“You
stole
that?” I knew I should be angry, but I wasn’t.

“Well, only sort of.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I couldn’t exactly walk up and buy it, not after . . . you know, what happened earlier.” That was true. The villagers surely would’ve turned any unknown child over to the Royal Guard in hopes of getting their own children back. “So I swiped it when people weren’t looking, but I also left some coppers in exchange.”

I let out a small sigh of relief. I didn’t feel desperate enough to be stealing. Not yet. “Well, that’s a good job, then. But we need to get back to Xyla soon.”

“We better not leave until full dark—another half hour.”

So we made a quiet snack of the bread and cheese. By the time it was dark, all the vendors had packed up their wares, and the village square was abandoned. We slipped out of our hiding place and, flitting from shadow to shadow, made our way back out of the village. The whole time I had a feeling that someone was watching, but we made it safely back to Xyla, who lay sleeping right where we’d left her hours before.

We took great care that night not to let our fire get too big, and we agreed to put it out before going to sleep. Better to be a bit cold than to be discovered by the Royal Guard.

As a precaution, I had Traz cut my hair short. It felt as if he were sawing it off with the knife, and I bit my lip to keep from complaining aloud. But if someone recognized me and I was captured, I’d never be able to help Breyard. My hair would grow back. I threw it onto the fire, not wanting to leave any telltale traces behind. A moment later, we almost choked on the acrid odor.

“Let’s not do that again,” Traz said with a grimace.

Even Xyla seemed to wrinkle her nose. She disappeared soon after, returning with a self-satisfied air and a rabbit, which Traz quickly skinned and dressed while I gathered herbs. I also found some wild potatoes. It was the best supper I’d had in days. I decided conclusively that having Traz along was a good thing.