Post 21

“Captain Farstreak, may I have a word?”

The Captain glanced up from the maps he was reviewing and then leapt to his feet when he saw who he addressed. “Yes, of course, my Lord Holt.”

Jared waved back to his seat and took the one across table. He crossed his arms and met the Captain’s gaze steadily. “May I speak frankly, Captain? In confidence?”

The Captain nodded. “Of course, but a moment first please. Merlyn!” A shaggy head ducked into the three-sided. “Merlyn, ensure we are not interrupted. Or overheard.” A message seemed to pass between the two mercenaries, and then the other man nodded and disappeared. Within a few moments, everyone within twenty paces of the front of the tent was ushered away.

“Your men listen well, Captain.” Jared was impressed.

“We’ve been through a lot together, my Lord Holt.” The Captain showed him complete deference, but there was a skeptical gleam in the back of the brown eyes that made Jared suspect that this wasn’t a man who would give his trust easily, which just made his reaction to Veyga that much more suspicious.

“I think I can safely assume that you are here to protect Arius from the outside world, and I want to make sure you know that that is not my priority.” At the Captain’s confused look, Jared sighed. “I apologize. Master Veyga. I forget sometimes.” The Captain nodded understanding, and he continued. “My priority is to protect him from himself. He’s a hard taskmaster, Captain, but to none so much as himself. I will not countermand his orders, I will not even try to usurp his authority, but if I have to step before a sword to stop him from hurting himself,” By the seven hells he hoped it didn’t come to that- Eithna would kill him if the sword didn’t, “then I will. I will also protect him from anyone else, of course, that means to do him harm, but I won’t be able to stay on for this whole journey. A few moonturns, at most, and I must return home. I will trust you to watch over him then.”

The Captain was offended. “Do you treat him as a child, then? Is he not a man grown, who can make his own decisions?”

Jared raised a hand to settle the man. “You misunderstand, Captain. Veyga is a man who will sacrifice his life, his soul, everything, if he thought it would protect the helpless. Bard’an mentioned that there have been foretellings and prophecies, am I correct?”

The Captain nodded hesitantly. “I have been told that.”

“I know someone who also occasionally has foretelling dreams. She has seen several possibilities of what might happen on this journey, and of them all, only one sees Veyga reaching Polien unharmed. For some reason, he needs to get there in one piece, and I can’t stress enough how important it is.” Eithna had wept when she had told him, and he’d held her the rest of the night. She had avoided Veyga for days afterward, afraid she would burst into tears every time she saw him. Even Veyga didn’t know about her dreams yet, if he hadn’t finished reading the book she sent along with him. If he had, he hadn’t mentioned it to Jared.

The Captain nodded again, but his expression had shifted a little. “Do you know Master Veyga well, my Lord Holt?”

Jared shrugged. “I think that no one really knows him well, Captain. But I know him better than most.” It was possible that Eithna knew him better, or even Rayna, but Jared doubted it.

“I was waiting to interview the priestess and the record keeper, my Lord Holt. I thought it best that Master Veyga have that honor first.”

“You chose well, Captain. I think that is for the best. But perhaps you would be present during the discussion?” The determination in the Captains face as he nodded agreement reassured Jared, and he left the tent much happier then when he entered. Something strange was going on, that much was clear, but if even Veyga didn’t know what it was, then they would just have to wait and see how it shaped up.

Jared made his way quietly through the camp and back to Veyga’s little thicket. Most of the camp was clearing out, packing up equipment and tents. Other soldiers were mending tack, oiling saddles, sharpening knives and swords, fletching arrows. Everywhere he looked the mercenary camp was quietly busy. Jared didn’t have much personal experience in war himself but he’d been raised minor nobility with all the training that entailed, and knew that he was seeing a well-run camp.

Veyga was sitting at his table reading when he called entry to Jared’s scratch. He gave the Lord a sharp look. “What are you so satisfied about?”

Jared paused, noting the foul mood. Then he smiled a little. “Have you eaten?”

Veyga stared darkly at him for a long moment, but Jared didn’t back down as he met that cool gray gaze. Finally Veyga looked away, realizing how he’d snapped at his friend. “I’m sorry, Jared.”

The Lord just chuckled. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“I was told a plate was on its way. I asked enough for two.” He felt a little ashamed now, but for some reason he couldn’t seem to control his moods lately. He usually prided himself on his cool outward demeanor, but it seemed to have fled now. Another side-effect of the Searing, most likely. The Searing! “Damn it all!” He smashed his palm flat against the table, causing it shudder. The book laid before him bounced shut.

Jared had jumped, but continued to watch him calmly. Veyga shook his head, knowing he was quickly losing control. “I don’t understand what’s wrong with me.”

“Any dreams lately, Arius?” Jared sat on the edge of Veyga’s cot, the only other piece of furniture in the tent other than the washstand.

Dreams? No, he hadn’t had any for the last few days, had he? Only one since the Sa’san and that one had been… He frowned to himself. He couldn’t remember much about that one. Had it been another dream with the gray floor? He didn’t think so. But maybe… He thought there had been a different room, with a white floor? Or maybe it was a crystal floor… Crystal? An old man… He remembered an old man… He put a hand up to his head; it was starting to ache. He remembered red hair… had Kayli been in his dream? No, not this time… Kayli had been lying broken on the ground, eyes staring, flies crawling across her face. No, steer clear of that one. Crystal goblets, he remembered crystal goblets…

“Arius? Arius!”

He jumped and focused on Jared. “What?”

“Eat.” Jared pointed to the dishes laid out on the table.

Veyga stared dumbly. “When did this get here?”

“A few minutes ago, and you hardly even blinked. I think you may have frightened the soldier that brought it.” Jared leaned forward. “Are you all right?”

A strange tingle slid down his back and he shivered a little, then scowled and laid into the food before him. It was camp food- beans and ham, two apples, a hunk of cheese and a thick slice of bread with butter smeared on- but it was good and there was plenty of it, but even after finishing every last crumb he was still hungry.

Jared was watching him closely, and soon as the last bite was swallowed he spoke again. “Are you all right, Arius?”

Veyga met his gaze, trying to hide the anxiety he was feeling. “I think so, but really, I’m not completely sure yet. Things keep passing through my head. I think maybe part of it might have been the Sa’san, but some of it… Some of it started before that.” He shivered again. “I’ve been seeing things; I don’t know what you’d call them. Auras I guess. Around people, I mean. That’s how I knew about Eithna. I didn’t know, actually when I saw it, it just popped into my head, later, and made sense. But today, when we arrived at the camp, Captain Farstreak had one, and so did almost all of the soldiers he had chosen. There were only a few without.”

“Is that why you changed a handful of them out?” Jared asked casually, but his voice was tense.

Veyga nodded. It sounded even stranger when he said it out loud. Was he going mad? “I don’t know what it means, I really don’t.”

“And did you see these auras before the Sa’san?”

Veyga hesitated, but he’d told Jared almost everything else already so what was the point in holding this back? “Yes, I did. Not all the time, but sometimes. It seemed random, but maybe it wasn’t.”

“What happened with Captain Farstreak, Arius?” He was asking carefully, but Veyga winced anyhow.

“It was like someone else was in my body. I don’t know why I put my hand on his head, and then once I did- I saw strange blue swirls, down my arm and into his head. And then when he looked at me-.” He swallowed hard. “I saw the same light in his eyes. I did something. And now? Now, Jared? Now, I when I even think about him, I can-.” He cleared his throat, trying to work past the lump there. “I can feel him, hiding there, crouching in my head, I can-. I can feel him, Jared!” He leapt to his feet, stumbled once, and then with a grim expression started to pace.

Jared watched unhappily. “Maybe there will be answers in Polien, Arius.”

Veyga stopped suddenly, facing Jared with a hopeful light in his eyes. “You said there was a priestess, and a record keeper?”

“You… You met them, Arius. When you met Captain Farstreak.”

Veyga waved that away. “No matter. I want to talk to them. Now, if possible. I want to know what they know.”

Jared stood, nodding once. “I’ll go see if they will come, all right?”

Veyga didn’t respond, he just resumed his pacing. Jared sighed and turned to leave.

“Jared?”

He paused, looking over his shoulder.

“Will you see if there are a few more chairs? For when they come?”

Jared nodded and ducked out of the tent. Thoughts roared through his head as he went in search of the women. He hadn’t realized things were this bad. Maybe it was still a better idea to send Veyga back to Eithna; maybe she would know what to do to help. Jared shook his head. There was no way Veyga was going to leave off this journey, especially if only for personal reasons. Maybe he should press for Veyga to take the teas Eithna had sent- maybe if he slept better…

He thought maybe the women were still beneath the open-sided tent where he had left them earlier. As he approached, though, he paused at the sound of raised voices, and ducked behind another tent to listen.

“I’m not trying to be amusing, Mel’awn. This isn’t funny. Stay away.” That sounded like Captain Farstreak.

“Oh stop, I’m not a child anymore Jiasin, I don’t have to listen to you.”

“This is my camp, Mel’awn. If I had my way you wouldn’t even be here.”

“Oh, are you too good for the palace, Jiasin? The palace! I’m a record keeper, I deserve better than your dirty camp anyway. And why do I have to share a tent with a priestess of all people? You know they’re celibate!”

“Mel… Mel, that’s not what I meant.” The Captain sounded tired. “I’m proud of where you’ve gotten, I brag to my men that my little sister is a record keeper. It’s a position of honor, I know that. But even you have to admit it’s a soft job; you aren’t cut out to travel with soldiers. The tent is the perfect example; should we pack a separate tent for every single man here? Do you know how much gear we’d have to carry to do that?”

She sniffed. “It doesn’t matter to me, he gets his own tent.”

A deep sigh. “Mel’awn, he’s different and you of all people should understand that. You are welcome to stay behind. Give him your information, make sure he knows everything you found, and then I’ll escort you back to the palace myself.”

Another sniff. “Fine. I’ll stay, and I’ll share my tent. But only until I find someone else to share with.”

“Mel’awn, this is the last time I’m going to tell you to get those ideas out of your head. If Master Veyga shows an interest in you then fine I won’t interfere, but I don’t want you pursuing him.”

She laughed, and Jared winced. So that was how the road lay, was it? He decided to interrupt then. Veyga was waiting.

Jared approached noisily, and the two jumped a little. Captain Farstreak wiped a guilty look off his face but not before Jared saw it. Jared ignored it and offered a pleasant smile. “Master Veyga was wondering if he might have a word with the ladies, Captain. And with you, as well.” He gave the Captain a pointed look, and the man nodded soberly.

“I’ll go and fetch the priestess. Mel’awn, remember what I said.” The Captain saluted Jared and then walked away.

Jared caught the record keeper’s gaze. She smiled, giving him a slanted look from beneath thick dark lashes. Her velvety eyes were quite pretty, and that worried him. “Record Keeper, if you hurt him, I will make sure you live to regret it.”

She paled and gasped, putting a hand to her throat. “What- what do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. Now come, he’s waiting.” He motioned in the direction of Veyga’s tent, and she followed quietly. Jared paused long enough to ask one of the sentries to send a few more chairs along, and then led the rest of the way. He scratched at the tent, waited for Veyga to call ‘enter,’ and then held the tent flap open for the record keeper. She hesitated and then slipped past him into the tent.

The dishes had been cleared away and Veyga sat at the table once again, arms folded along the top, looking calm and composed. He didn’t stand when they entered, and Mel’awn glanced at Jared in surprise. She knew he was of higher rank, and she noticed when Veyga did not stand for him.

“Arius, this is Mel’awn Farstreak, one of the palace record keepers.”

Veyga nodded somberly, pinning her with one of his icy stares. “Well met, Mistress Farstreak. I take you are Captain Farstreak’s sister?”

She nodded, dark eyes wide. Veyga wondered if she was surprised or just trying to show off how pretty her eyes were. He quelled that thought as fast as it occurred. He had no desire to think about how pretty her eyes were.

Another scratch outside, and the Captain was ducking in, the priestess on his heels. A soldier handed three more chairs through, and Jared helped to arrange them along the edge of the table opposite Veyga. Jared continued to stand beside the door as the three guests settled into their chairs. Once they were comfortable, Jared introduced the priestess.

“This is Priestess Feyona Rasha, and of course you know Captain Farstreak.”

Veyga nodded to each, and wasted no time. “I’m told there are prophecies and foretellings which you both believe are about me. I’d like to know more.”

The priestess spoke up first. “Of course, I’ll happily tell you everything I know.”

Veyga nodded politely for her to continue, and while she spoke, her pale eyes lit with the fire of conviction. “Several of the priests and priestesses of Ay’marne retain their faith only because of strange dreams that they have. Many of them make no sense. We think those are dreams of futures that didn’t happen. You see, there are many possibilities of the future- every decision you make can change what the outcome will be. Do you understand?”

Veyga nodded, considering. It made sense so far.

“But sometimes, a very strong dream happens- we call these Foretellings. The day before you arrived at the palace, I had one of these dreams.”

“Is there a difference between a Foretelling and the other kind- the ones that are just possibilities?”

She shook her head, clasping her hands tightly in her lap. “Not really. What tells them apart, for us, is when they happen.”

Veyga sat up straighter, eye sharpening. That was interesting. Were any of his dreams Foretellings? He hoped not, he’d rather not have images of the future popping into his head. The dreams he had now were bad enough. “And you dreamed something about me that happened.”

The priestess nodded excitedly. “I dreamed that you would demand the Sa’san. It made no sense to me; I didn’t even know what the Sa’san was. I’m just a simple priestess and I know nothing of magic. But there is more. In the Foretelling, you also endured the Sa’san, and survived! You were Seared of all of your crimes, and-.”

He cut her off, eye practically gleaming now. “Seared. Did you say Seared?” She had said Seared! It wasn’t just a random term burned into his brain. But wait- that still didn’t explain how he had learned the word in the first place.

She nodded again. “I don’t know much about that, I’m sure Mel’awn knows more than I do, with the history and all. But in my Foretelling, I knew you were Seared of your crimes. You were released, and you were to set out on an important journey. A journey that could affect the entire world, not just Anyon! The Foretelling told me that you would need help, that you would need soldiers to protect you, and that you must succeed to your goal. What convinced the High Lord to help you was that I Foretold your destination. You are going to the forgotten city of Polien, aren’t you?”

Veyga nodded distractedly. Strange to think she’d dreamt it before he even knew what it was. Stranger still that the High Lord had been convinced to help based on the dream of a priestess. “You Foretold this the day before I even reached the palace?”

“The day before you presented yourself, yes. We are required to report all Foretellings to the High Lord, especially when one has confirmable facts that happen. As soon as I learned you had presented yourself- word does travel quickly through the palace- I made sure that the High Lord knew of my Foretelling.”

“So he knew I would survive the Sa’san?” He rubbed the back of his neck, a wondering look on his face. Had the High Lord known that before he hinted about the Sa’san? But no, she had said she went to the High Lord after he had demanded Sa’san.

“Well, he knew that was the most likely outcome, yes. As I said before, the only difference between Foretelling and not is that it happens.”

Veyga nodded. “What else can you tell me?”

“Well really, that’s all. The High Lord heard the name Polien, and that was it, I was bundled up and on my way with these soldiers. I-.” Her excited eyes dimmed a little. “I’m not sure I am prepared for a long journey, Master Veyga, but I will do my best. I’ve never even been beyond the gates on Ay’marne before.”

“If you would rather return to the palace, priestess, then you may.” Captain Farstreak looked offended that she had even mentioned her concerns.

The priestess stiffened. “I will do no such thing! I understand my duty, and I’ll do it. It’s best that I continue with you. It’s common for a dreamer to have more Foretellings about the same subject, and if I do have another one, I think I should be close to share it.”

“I appreciate that, Priestess Rasha.” Veyga offered a small smile.

She blushed a little, her pale eyes brightening again. “Please, just Priestess Feyona. Priests and priestesses drop our secondname when we take our vows.”

He nodded. “Priestess Feyona, I will do what I can to keep our journey uneventful.”

She beamed at him, and he hoped he was able to live up to her glowing expectations. He turned his stare to the record keeper next. She practically preened beneath his gaze. “And what can you tell me, Mistress Farstreak?”

“Please, just Mel’awn. While record keepers are certainly prized at the palace, we do not stand on formality.” She smiled warmly, giving him a strange look that he wasn’t sure how to interpret. “I can tell you about several prophecies which may or may not involve your journey. I have records of them-.”

“With you? Here in camp, right now?” He pinned her with his best glare, and she wilted a little, but then seemed to get a little backbone and she glared right back.

“Yes, of course here in camp.”

“Hand them over to me, I will read them myself.” He would rather not hear a rendition from her lips; people could put the wrong spin on anything, and a vague description could be applied to a hundred different events.

She seemed insulted. “I will certainly not hand them over to you. They were put into my keeping, I am responsible for them. If you would like to read them, then you may do so with me present.”

“Fine. Have the records brought here, and you can stay while I read them.” He knew he’d made a mistake the moment the words left his mouth. She got that cat-and-canary look again, and nearly purred when she agreed to his demand. “Tomorrow, break your fast and then come here. Do not come into my tent without requesting entry first.” Hopefully that would give him a moment to organize himself before she barraged him. “Thank you ladies, I appreciate your assistance. I would like a moment with the Captain now.”

The priestess did not hesitate, and left the tent as quietly as she had come in. Mel’awn, however, took her time rising from her seat, smoothing her hands over her coat and turning a little to dust invisible dirt from the seat of her breeches. She smiled one more time at him and then- he didn’t even know how to describe it- slunk from the tent, moving her hips in a way that drew his eye. He grunted and tore his gaze away, angry at himself for being distracted. She laughed over her shoulder and ducked through the tent flap, giving another little wiggle in the process.

Veyga felt hot; he was certain his face was flushed. “Jared, please make sure that we’re left undisturbed for a few moments.”

Jared nodded and followed Mel’awn out. The Captain sat quietly, attentively, eyes never leaving Veyga’s face.

Veyga stood and began to pace, rubbing the back of his neck. “I fear I’ve done you a great disservice, Captain Farstreak. I don’t really know exactly what I did, actually, but I fear you may not be working of your own volition.”

The Captain frowned. “My own volition? What are you talking about?”

“I think I may have… entranced you somehow. I think… I think maybe I did something to you, inadvertently of course, and I hope that I can figure out a way to undo it.”

“Are you hitting on me, Master Veyga? I know some men prefer other men in their beds, and I mean no disrespect but I’m not really into that sort of thing.”

Veyga yelped. “By the seven hells, no! No, Captain, absolutely not.”

“Well then, all right.” The Captain did look quite relieved, and Veyga wondered ironically if he should be offended or not. “Listen, Master Veyga, I was hired- and already paid mind you- to make sure that you got to this place called Polien. I am to protect you with my life if need be, as are every one of my men. That is what we signed up for, that is what I committed myself to even before you accepted my troth. If you think you did something, and if that’s why it feels like you’re in the back of my brain now, then so be it. It’s done, and what’s done is done, there’s no sense trying to undo it now.”

Veyga sat down hard in his chair, gaping. “Well-. Well, that’s very sensible-. Wait, do you mean you can feel it too?”

The Captain shrugged. “It’s a little strange, I’ll admit, and took a little getting used to at first, but like I said, done is done. It may come in handy, is how I look at it. Might be good to keep track of you that way, to help keep you safe.”

“You are a remarkable man, Captain. If I can find a way to undo it all the same, I will. Were you able to switch out the men I requested? I apologize for dumping that on you; I realize now it would probably have been best to have that conversation in private. I’m not sure what came over me.”

“I’ve made the switches, although it might be best if you check the men over to be sure I’ve gotten the right ones.”

Veyga’s head was pounding again. Strange, that he’d spent so much time worrying about having the Captain in the back of his head, when the Captain had accepted it so matter-of-factly. “I’m sure you did fine.”

“If there’s nothing else, Master Veyga, maybe it would be best if you lie down for a bit. You’re feeling kind of sickly. I can tell.” He tapped a thick finger to his temple, giving Veyga a knowing wink.

Veyga stared blankly at him. This was certainly going to be an interesting trip. “Thank you Captain, I think maybe that’s a good idea. But first, before you go, one more thing. I met a soldier earlier, name of Kazadrey. I’d like to have him assigned directly to me, if that is acceptable. I think it might be a good idea to have a… a buffer, I guess. I don’t want to make any more missteps. I don’t want to usurp your authority with him, but if he could act as a personal guard, and possibly run errands as well, when he isn’t busy with his other duties…”

“He’s yours, Master Veyga. I’ll let him know. Funny you asked for Kaz, actually. He was a secretary before he became a mercenary. He’ll serve you well. Now, about that nap…” He winked again and stood, then ducked from the tent. Veyga sighed deeply and kicked his boots off. It was the middle of the day, but he was exhausted. And sleep did sound good right now... Even if it had been the Captain to suggest it, as if he was a fond uncle who knew better than he did. He was asleep before he even pulled the blanket half over himself.

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Jared sat crossed-legged right outside the tent, for all intents and purposes guarding, no matter how casually he tried to appear. He winced inwardly every time he heard a groan or whimper come from inside, but he left Veyga alone all the same. He hated to hear the young man’s distress when he dreamed, but Jared suspected that it was for the best that Veyga have an opportunity to dream all the same. Whether the dreams were visions or something else, some strange communication from Veyga’s subconscious, they seemed important.

The plain brown man from before approached warily, and Jared held up a hand to stop him. He quietly motioned for the man to step aside with him, away from the tent. A few paces away, Jared smiled and held out a hand. The man hesitated only a moment before gripping his arm firmly before stepping back a little. “Well met, Kazadrey is it?”

“Yes, my Lord Holt. Or just Kaz is fine.” A soft sound from the tent drew the man’s eye, but Jared shook his head warningly.

“Don’t worry about that for now, Kaz. Master Veyga asked specifically for you. I ask that you keep a close eye on him when you can. Let me know if anything… out of the ordinary catches your attention, would you?”

The brown man had puffed up a little when he heard he’d been specially requested, but at that comment he looked a little leery. “Like what?”

Jared chuckled a little. “You’ll know what I mean if you see it.”

The sound of Veyga murmuring came to them, even with the distance from the tent. Kaz glanced again toward the noise, and Jared shook his head. “He has dreams, is all.”

An understanding look crossed the plain man’s face. “Ah. That I can understand. See enough things, my Lord Holt…” He shrugged. “See enough things, and we all have dreams.”

Jared nodded and motioned towards the tent, where the two of them sat before the door flap, one on either side, chatting casually but neither managing to look like anything but guards.

It had been a crystal room. Veyga could remember now, if not all of the dream at least most of it. It helped, of course, to discover himself back in the same room again. He looked around nervously, noting the same crystal table, the same chairs and benches, the same slanting sunlight with what appeared to be dust motes dancing through them.

Veyga frowned and examined those dancing dust motes closer. With a yelp he leaped back away from any of the slating rays of light. Those were certainly not dust motes. He didn’t know what they were, but each little fleck held the spark of life within it. Another thing he didn’t know how he came to know, but he would have staked his own life on the certainty that it was true.

Movement from the doorway across the room, and he was stumbling back until his back hit the hall behind and the bench there buckled his knees. He sat down so hard his teeth snapped together, but all he could do was stare in shock as the four deities flowed into the room and took their seats again. They looked equally surprised at seeing him in their crystal cathedral, but then Eavan stood behind the last chair, and once again motioned to Veyga to take the chair.

Veyga was shaking his head before he even realized what he was doing, pressing as far back against the wall behind him as he could manage. Eavan smiled gently, but there was a hard glint in his wise eyes as he came around the table and then planted himself before Veyga, leaning on his staff. “Listen to me, boy.” In spite of his gentle smile, his voice was icy and Veyga was reminded once again that this was a God who stood before him, not a man. “There’s a reason you keep popping up here, in Skeyon, where no mortal has ever been welcomed since the beginning of time. We need to know why, and I will have it from you with your cooperation,” he reached out a gnarled finger and poked within an inch of Veyga’s nose, “or without, if necessary.”

Veyga swallowed hard and then looked up at the God with a shaky nod. “All right.”

With a satisfied smile the God stepped back and motioned for Veyga to take the chair. He crossed the room slowly, cautiously avoiding the slanting beams of light with the life flickering within them, and then gingerly settled into the chair. Once he was seated, he gasped a little, as his arms were suddenly fused to the arms of the chair, and his back was clutched up tight. He would not be leaving this seat until he was released. He tried to keep the horror from his face, but the smirks from around the table told him clearly that they knew what had happened, and approved.

Eavan stepped up beside Veyga with a perfectly blank face, but those eyes pierced him clean through. He placed a gnarled hand on Veyga’s head, and it began to ache so fiercely that he convulsed, thrashing within the confines of the chair. When the pain receded a little, he found himself slumping and panting, and drenched in sweat. His chest was tight, he could barely draw a breath, and spots swam before his eyes. Minutes or candlemarks could have passed and it was almost the agony of the Sa’san all over again.

Eavan smiled suddenly. “So. That explains much.”

Endara leaned forward. “What? You must tell us. How has he managed to get here? It makes no sense, Eavan. If he can get here, can Keary as well?”

“No, I think we don’t have anything to worry about there, Endara. Keary will not breach these walls. This one, however…” A gentle tap on Veyga’s left temple, and the pain receded enough that he could straighten a little and his chest loosened enough to draw a full breath. “This one came for a reason.”

Veyga blanked out a little, and when he next came aware Eavan was standing beside Endara, and the conversation was continuing without him. Kyarol was leaning forward on the table, hands clasped tight before him as he spoke, his tone urgent. “This cannot be, Eavan. It simply cannot be. We did not create the road to lead to this.”

Eavan waved a hand as he noticed Veyga’s attention, and again he blanked out. Sheryas was speaking when next he came to. “Should I try to heal the tear in his soul, Eavan? Surely that is part of the trouble. If the tear was repaired, would he know, would he become aware of who he is? There must be a reason for his rebirth, or else why would it happen without our involvement? There is no touch of Razakel on him, this wasn’t his doing.”

“I don’t know, Sheryas. He already becomes more aware. He is already beginning to use the gifts we gave them so long ago. It might be best to let the transformation happen without intervention. If we become involved, it might complicate things. As you just said, this happened without us, there must be a reason.”

“Eavan, this is ridiculous.” He thought that might be Endara’s voice. It seemed to shiver in his ears, and he couldn’t seem to focus enough to turn his head toward her. “While I sense no taint within him, he is a hard man, how can he reincarnate a soul that was so gentle? I say we finish him now. There must have been a mistake, to let-.”

A soft hiss from Eavan, and again he was gone, mind blank, eyes unseeing and ears unhearing. The next time he came to, the argument was still brewing, and it was then that the dawning horror washed over him. They were talking about him!

“It is decided, we will let him return, and we will watch to see what happens, but we will not interfere unless we must. We need to check Razakel’s wards, though, and it might be best to awaken Kembell. He’s the last one, the only one not attached to a ward, and maybe he will know more. There has to be a reason this happened.” Eavan sounded angry, and Veyga shivered a little, trying to lift his bowed head to look at the God’s face, but then Eavan grunted. “This one is strong, though; much stronger than the others ever were. That’s surprising. My bonds struggle to hold him, and he’s wakened from the Sleep three times now.”

“Send him away, Eavan. It’s best he not witness this discussion. Place a Bond on him that we might find him again later. He must not be let free to run unfettered.” That was Endara again.

“Hm, that’s a thought.” A shuffling, and then Eavan was placing his hand on Veyga’s head. This time Veyga shrieked as the pain tore through, ricocheting through his skill. He convulsed again, his throat closing, cutting off the scream abruptly. His head flung back, striking the edge of the chair, and as blackness closed around him he caught one last comment. “This is impossible, I cannot place the Bond.”

“Arius, wake up! Arius, you must wake up!” He was being drug from the cot, which flipped beneath them, and Veyga opened his eyes to find darkness, and Jared’s limbs tangled with his. Confusion reigned in the darkness, and outside the tent men were fighting and shouting. “Arius, damn it all, wake up!”

“I’m awake, Jared. What’s happening?” He untangled himself and crawled away a little, straining to see in the darkness.

“There’s- something here, Arius. I don’t even know what they are. Beasts of some sort, probably magic-bound, and they’re wreaking havoc, tearing up the camp, clearly looking for something. Hang on.” Some shuffling, and then a bright flare as Jared located the lamp he’d dropped and relit it.

Veyga threw an arm up as his eyes adjusted to the light. Awareness hit him, and he groaned as he scrambled to his feet. “The Hounds.” He had completely forgotten about the Hounds! “Where’s my sword?”

Jared was on his feet, the scabbard in hand. He passed it over and Veyga buckled it on as he dashed from the tent, not bothering to pull on his boots. Time was of the essence now, only he knew where the Hounds’ weak spot was. Only he knew, and there were two hundred men trying to keep him alive that had no chance of standing against the Hounds.

Veyga broke through the little copse of trees around his tent, and froze. Chaos was indeed ruling the night. Nearby a few tents were on fire, providing enough light along with the campfires that had dotted the camp. Veyga stared dumbly for a moment. There were two of the beasts, and if he thought he’d been prepared from his one vision, then he’d been sadly mistaken. It was like looking at a picture of death, and then confronting it head-on. There was no comparison.

They were huge, first of all. Probably as tall at the shoulder as a two-story house, and twice as long. They were vaguely dog-shaped, with canine snouts and short floppy ears. But that was where the resemblances ended. They had no hair, and instead were covered with a thick leathery skin. Their bodies were heavily muscled, with sharp sword-like talons where claws would have been. They were laying waste to the soldiers around them, although they paused every few moments to sniff the air with rubbery noses, swinging their massive heads with outthrust tusks scoring the air, clearly searching for something.

Veyga shook himself and dashed through the camp, leaping obstacles without even looking at them. His attention was fastened completely on the Hound closest to him, sword drawn, heart pounding. The Hound sniffed the air again, and then lifted its huge head and howled. The sound rocked the camp, causing the ground to tremble beneath his feet. He didn’t slow his charge even when both Hounds seemed to fasten tiny pig-like eyes on him. Of course, they’d been searching for him.

The clusters of soldiers around each of the Hounds continued to strike with swords, staves, knives, arrows- nothing penetrated the thick hides. The eyes, usually a prime target, were too small to hit, with wiry lashes around them to protect them. Even as Veyga watched, an arrow was stopped by those lashes, and with a blink the Hound knocked it loose.

The world narrowed, as it did when he fought, and the red rage overtook him before he was even aware that he was angry. Now it was just the Hounds, and him, and nothing else mattered. He lunged forward, sword raised, intent on doing whatever damage he could, even if it meant giving his own life to protect those around him.

Jared scrambled on Veyga’s heels, trying to keep up, but stopped dead when he saw those beasts again. Veyga had called them ‘hounds,’ although they hardly resembled hounds to him. He drew his own sword, but looked blankly at it for a moment, then back to the men already clustered around the beasts, striking, trying to kill, to wound at least, and not succeeding. There were already dozens of men dead near each beast, sliced by those razor claws. There wasn’t a single mark on either monster.

A streak of light from the corner of his eye drew his head up, and he gaped as he watched Veyga dash toward the Hounds, leaping campfires and the equipment that littered the camp. His sword was drawn; his face was set in complete determination. And he was glowing! A now-familiar blue swirl of light was bleeding from beneath his shirt. The tattoos. An image flashed in Jared’s head, of that blue light settling into those tattoos. It grew now, wrapping about the man’s arms and chest, sliding down long legs and up over his head- even to the tip of the braid where it swung behind him. Only the sword was not glowing. Men all around the camp were dropping back from the beasts with dismay on their faces as they realized they could not harm these nightmare animals.

Jared watched dumbfounded as Veyga finally reached one of the Hounds, and stared it down for only a moment before attacking. His heart in his throat, Jared watched as Veyga’s sword bounced off the beast’s thick skin just as every other man’s had.

The shock recoiled up his arms as his sword rebounded from the Hound’s hide, and Veyga dropped back, panting slightly. He met that piggish glare for only a moment before the beast was rearing on its hind legs, reaching for him with those sharp claws. He tried to run, tried to spin, but he was gathered into up the beast’s embrace before he could even blink. He braced himself, waiting for the pain that would surely follow as he was sheared clean through, but it didn’t come. He gasped as he put his hands on the beast’s paws where they were wrapped around him, the sharp claws pressing into his skin but not penetrating. His skin… His skin was gleaming with a soft blue light. He stared in horror as his shirt was shredded, could feel the fabric of his breeches torn apart, but the blade-sharp claws did not pierce his skin. His ribs groaned as the beast squeezed, lowering its massive head to peer closely at him. Hot fetid breath washed over him as the Hound tried to see what was wrong, why he wasn’t being torn limb from limb. Confusion showed in those little eyes, the wiry lashes whipping against Veyga’s face like a wire flog.

The camp was growing quiet around them, and Veyga tried to twist to see the other Hound. What was happening? The other beast lurched toward them, and some sort of growling language passed between the two Hounds. There was intelligence there; these were not simply mindless creatures. The other Hound was up on its hind legs now, reaching for Veyga. It stretched a pointed claw toward him, reaching to pierce his chest… and the claw slid off him.

The Hounds seemed as confused as he did. Relief was short-lived, though, as the Hound that held him reached toward the other’s gaping maw. Veyga was shoved past the tusks that scraped across his legs and chest, and then those great jaws closed on him. He couldn’t help but scream as the pressure ground his bones together. Then the world closed around him as everything disappeared but the pain.

Jared watched in horror, along with every other man in the camp, as the creatures seemed to be having some sort of discussion over the clasped claws. Then the first beast was shoving Veyga into the mouth of the second, and Veyga’s scream was reverberating through the camp. The first Hound swung its massive head about one more time before letting loose another howl, and then they both turned and left the camp in great leaping bounds.

Jared shook himself and lurched after them, knowing it was futile, knowing that there was no way he would be able to reach the Hounds before they crested the lip of the valley where the camp was nestled, knowing he could not save Veyga, but having to try. But then they were gone, and so was his friend. He stopped, staring in shock where they had disappeared over the edge.

A soft sobbing finally registered on him, and he looked to his left where the priestess was huddled, her robe dirty and torn. She’d lost her scarf somewhere, and her hair hung around her face in a tangled mess of raven-black locks. He bent to comfort her, eyes returning to the edge of the valley, fear sinking into his heart. There was no way to get Veyga back now. He turned his attention back to the priestess. “Shh… It’s all right-.”

“It’s not all right! Don’t tell me that! I dreamed, I Foretold this, but it was too late, I was coming to tell you- it was too late! Why couldn’t I have Foretold this earlier? We could have-.” She hiccuped, eyes red-rimmed and terror-filled. “We could have-.” She wailed and then hiccuped again.

“Shh. There’s nothing we could have done, priestess. There’s nothing we could have done.” He gathered her into his arms, eyes returning again to the valley’s edge. There was a man standing there now, barely highlighted by the fires behind him. His dark curls were a riotous mass around his head, and his broad shoulders shook.

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