Everything Begins

Chapter 20

“Fine.”

The camp was silent for a while except for the metallic clang of spoons against plates.

“Where exactly are we going?” Dinton asked as he shoveled in the last of his porridge.

“We will cross the Parbatas at the Ghata Pass. It is a three day ride from here. It will take us about that same amount of time to cross the pass into the plains. After that, we will travel north to Grama, their town. Once there…”

“Yes?” Tero asked.

Frank shrugged again and stood to pack up his things. “I am not sure. I know that I will make them pay for what they did, but I do not know how yet.” He whistled and Kumar trotted over to him from the stream. He readied the horse to ride, and after a few moments, the other two did the same.

The next sennight passed rather uneventfully. They traveled to the pass, stopping once at a fair-sized village to restock their provisions, and they spent four days crossing over the mountains. It was summertime, so there was little snow even at the summit, but the chill wind made them glad that they had brought their heavy cloaks.

Frank thought back to his own journey across the Parbatas, and he wondered if his life would have been the same if he had known about the pass. Since he had not known, he had made his way directly across the mountains, finding his way by means of deer trails and the occasional human-made path. For four moons, he had not seen another person, but on this trip, he could not seem to get away from them.

In every village they passed through, whether it consisted of ten houses or a hundred, he heard the gasps and saw the wide eyes of the people who realized he was Anmah. Twice, someone tried to stop him for news of the world—apparently Anmah were well-traveled—but he had to tell them that he knew nothing. He knew they did not believe him.

There had been no villages since they entered the pass, and the three men talked more amongst themselves than they had previously. Even Tero seemed to loosen up as the days unfolded, and by the time they reached the plains on the western side of the mountains, he and the others were discussing things as equals.

Dinton, for his part, was simply glad to be out of Torkeln. It was not that he was sorry he had joined the Palace Guard.It was just that he had not ever traveled, and he was loving it. Seeing new places and new people was something he had not been sure he would ever have the chance to do.

As the friends passed out of the trees into the tall grasses of the Kedara Plains, the sun was twice its own height above a horizon that Dinton and Tero had never seen. Frank had, however, and he stopped and watched for several minutes as the blazing ball lowered and started to change color from yellow to orange. The others flanked him and studied him curiously as he dropped his head. Memories of his family and his village pounded on his brain, and he felt the heat of his fury overtaking him. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths to try to calm down, while Kumar shifted uneasily, picking up on his master’s mood. Frank unconsciously bent forward and patted the horse’s neck, but the stallion still danced sideways, obviously discomfited.

“Everything all right, Ga’briyel?”

The Anmah’s hands had fisted around the reins, and Kumar snorted, voicing his displeasure with his rider’s rigidity. Frank kept his head down but turned his face toward Dinton and opened his eyes. Dinton frowned deeply when he saw the fire blazing out of them.

Without speaking, Frank snapped his head forward and dug his heels into Kumar’s flanks. The war horse bolted ahead, and Dinton and Tero had to quickly heel their own mounts in an attempt to keep up. The black horse and his rider stayed ahead of them, however, for over a league, and then Frank slowed his horse. Before the animal had completely stopped, he swung down from the saddle and stalked back and forth through the tall grass, fists clenched tightly and jaw clenched even tighter, taking long strides that covered a pace or more each time. Dinton and Tero pulled up not far from him, but neither spoke.

Without warning, Frank dropped to his knees and released a loud, wordless cry toward the sky. It came from deep within himself, and the pain in it hit the others like a physical blow. Dinton was about to dismount and go to him when Tero stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Stay,” the older man said. “Leave him alone.”

Dinton just nodded and watched his friend with apprehension.

The shout had turned into angry mutterings, but Frank stayed on his knees, his hands fisted so tightly they were shaking. His knuckles were white, and the tendons clearly stood out. After what seemed like a very long time, he stood up and moved to Kumar, swinging himself back into the saddle. Without a word, he kicked the animal into motion and headed west. The other two glanced at each other before following.

They rode for another hour, with the only sounds being the swishing of their horses’ legs through the grass, the soft thumping of their hooves on the ground, and the occasional jingle of tack hardware or the creaking of leather saddles, when Frank abruptly came to a halt and looked around the empty grasslands.

“What is it?” Tero asked as he reined in beside him, his tone eerily similar to one used with a wounded, cornered animal.

“I do not know,” Frank said, his voice cold. “I am getting something, but that does not make sense. I do not know anyone around here, and it is not coming from either of you.” He closed his eyes and swung Kumar in a slow circle. After two complete turns, he stopped and faced northwest. His eyes opened, and he pointed.

“That way,” he said and kicked his horse into a trot. They made their way through the late afternoon light for another league or so when Frank brought them to a halt. With hand signals, he told the others to dismount and follow him. They did so, shifting their hands to the hilts of their swords as Frank did. They crept soundlessly through the grass, their movements indistinguishable from the wind, and within ten minutes, the glow of a campfire was visible in front of them. The glow grew larger as they moved—Frank was amazed when he realized there was no watch set around the camp—and they were soon able to hear voices. They were harsh, masculine voices, and the laughter that carried on the wind was cruel. Eventually, they were able to make out words.

“Get over here, girl! We are going to have a little fun!”

Frank and the others snuck close enough to see the figures of several men moving in the light of a single small fire. Frank motioned again, and the other two separated from him to circle the camp. He moved silently closer until he could make out the faces of the men. He had to force his eyes not to glow and give him away when he saw the black and white painted faces of the Asabya. His mind sought out his companions, and he knew the instant they realized who the men were. Their fury was no match for his, but it was still fierce. As he watched, one man dragged a young woman into the light of the fire.

Frank guessed that she was about his age, and she was a tiny thing; if he were standing next to her, he thought that she might come to about the middle of his chest. She looked even smaller when surrounded by what Frank now saw were a dozen large, ferocious-looking barbarians. She had short, blonde hair that looked like it had been hacked off with a dull knife. She did not make a sound but only stood in the center of the circle made by the men, her hands behind her back and her head down. She was wearing a short, linen dress that came to mid-thigh. The dress might have been white, or perhaps a light blue, at one time, but now it was so dirty that it was hard to tell.

The men started laughing and began passing her around the circle, each man groping and pawing at her, a few fumbling at the laces of their breeches. Suddenly, images flashed in Ga’briyel’s mind, and he knew instantly that they came from the woman. How, he did not know, but pictures of pain and humiliation, of rape and torture filled his brain, and he slowly drew his sword from its scabbard. It slid out silently, and he readied himself to attack. He knew what the Asabya had in mind when they said they wanted to have fun—he saw it in the woman’s thoughts and in their actions—and he knew that he could not let them fulfill their desires with her. He was about to signal the attack when other contradictory images clashed with the first, images of the girl with a sword in her hand, hacking at the men abusing her. He looked back at her and was surprised to see intense hatred blanketing her face, her teeth clenched almost as tightly as his had been earlier.

He glanced around quickly and saw Dinton to his left and Tero to his right. They were both watching him, and he knew that, even without the images to help, they both knew what was about to happen. He nodded once to each of them and then burst from the grass with a loud battle cry, Dinton and Tero half a heartbeat behind him.

The Asabya were caught off guard, but they were warriors to the bone, and they quickly drew their swords. Two were too slow, however, and as Frank swung his sword twice, they lay dead, their blood quickly staining the grass a dark red.

The third man he encountered had managed to get his sword out, but it only took seconds to cut him down anyway. He heard the sounds of battle around him, but they were distant, and he focused on the men around him. He danced around the camp, striking out at anyone with a black face, his sword singing as it slashed through the night air.

Three more Asabya quickly went down, and he set his feet as four others settled themselves in front of him in a tight semicircle, their swords aimed directly at him. He let his mind discover that Dinton and Tero had each dispatched one Asabya in the time he had killed or wounded six, and they were now standing behind him, waiting.

He shook his sword once to remove some of the blood and gore so that it did not drip and make the hilt slippery, and then he raised it in a front guard. His eyes glowed brightly, and he was amused at the shocked looks on three of the Asabya’s faces, but the fourth just narrowed his eyes and set his own stance.