Illengond Read online

  “In the Plains, maybe, but not in the highlands,” Bandor replied.

  Neither of the others answered him.

  Elynna thought back on their cross of Umgog, the great lake of the Plains several days earlier. “What about boats?” she asked. “Are there any Undeani villages in the north? Any fishermen among your people who might help us?”

  Braga shook his head. “Not now. Not in the winter. Your friend Bandor asked the same thing. In the summer many of my tribes folk come north to fish the lake and hunt for the great northern elk in the marshes to the west. But winters here are harsh. Storms come off Mount Illengond with a vengeance. Even now, I am uneasy this close to the water.”

  “How near are we?” Elynna asked.

  “An hour of walking will bring us to the shore.”

  “And there is still nowhere to ford the river?”

  Bandor, Braga, and Tienna all shook their heads.

  “Though the gorge is much shallower here,” Braga said, “the river is still confined between the ledges. Though it flows low now in wintertime, it is still too deep here. I believe when we get closer to the lake it will open up and we will find a way to the other side. But it might not happen until we are right at the shore.”

  Elynna felt her heart quicken. “What if we can’t cross even there?”

  “Then we are trapped,” Braga replied. “As I warned before. And even if we do cross, there will be more rivers, and the farther downstream we try to cross them, the larger they will be.”

  Once again Elynna found herself fighting against panic. She thought back on her days on the Lienwash River, playing in the afternoons with her brother after the day’s work was done. “Could we build a raft?”

  Braga looked skeptical. “For this many people? They would take a long time to build. And it would be a slow and dangerous way to cross water.”

  Tienna’s eyes suddenly lit up. “Of course! A boat.”

  “To cross the river?” Elynna asked.

  “No. Not just to cross the river. We can cross the lake. Just as we did the Umgog. It would save us days of travel, and the soldiers wouldn’t be able to follow.”

  “I think you’ve lost your mind, my Andan friend,” Braga replied.

  “Cross the lake to where?” Elynna asked.

  “Straight toward Mount Illengond,” Tienna answered.

  “But that is not where we want to go,” Bandor objected. “Have you not seen how great the mountain is? There is no climbing it. We need to traverse the southern slopes, much closer to Aeti. Already, I fear, we are too far north and will have to bend far to the south to get around, especially as winter sets in.”

  “Don’t all the old stories speak of Mount Illengond as a symbol of hope?” Tienna asked.

  At Tienna’s words, Elynna thought back yet again on Cathwain’s attempt to reach her. Illengond, she had said. And Thimeon. The young girl’s voice held a tone of warning. A warning to avoid Illengond? She closed her eyes, trying to recall Cathwain’s message. Thimeon. Illengond. And then, Meet us there.

  There? On Illengond? Is that what Cathwain had said? Could that be a message from Thimeon? That would mean Thimeon had gone to Gale Enebe. Then it dawned on Elynna. Cathwain had also mentioned the stone. But she would have no way of knowing about that stone. They found it when escaping the dungeons of Citadel. Thimeon found it. And gave it to Cane. If Cathwain was speaking of that same stone—if she knew about that stone—then Thimeon must be with her. This, then, was his plan to meet with Elynna. Yet even if that was the message, Illengond was hopelessly vast. How would they ever find Thimeon on its slopes? Or how would he find her?

  Tienna spoke again. “From higher up the mountain, I saw an arm of the lake that wound through the wilderness for many miles to the east, much closer to the base of the mountain. From there we might even be able to find a river and take the boat upstream, right to the very slopes of the Holy Mountain”

  Braga looked at Tienna. “We can’t go south. We can’t go west. We could try to continue north around one side of the lake or another, but even if we could skirt the shore of the lake, there is nothing up there except wilderness. Unless we can find a way down to the lowlands, the winter would kill us before the Daegmon could. I don’t know what other choice we have.”

  Down to the lowlands? Did he mean the Westwash? Elynna swallowed, not sure whether the thought of returning home brought hope or despair. And then she thought again of Illengond. There, her heart told her, was where she was supposed to go. Could she even explain that to the others?

  “We’re running,” Bandor said. “Just running from the Daegmon? If that is all we can do, then we’re going to find ourselves in trouble eventually. No matter what direction we go, we must sooner or later reach the end of Gondisle.”

  “Yes,” Elynna thought. “Sooner or later we must reach the end of Gondisle.” Only after the words were out of her mouth did she realize she had spoken them aloud. “We’re buying time.”

  “Then why not go straight toward Illengond,” Braga replied. “Though most of my people long ago stopped speaking of the All-Maker, and few any longer believe in him, my parents taught me from a young age that I should put my trust in him. If there is hope against this enemy we now face, that is our hope. And at least among my people, the old stories always point to Mount Illengond.”

  “Among my people also,” Tienna said.

  “But all this discussion is for naught,” Bandor said after a moment. “It just puts us back to where we have been all along. Whether we want to go to Illengond, or just skirt the southern slopes and head toward Aeti, I just don’t see how we can cross the lake. If there was ice, we might try. But where are we supposed to find a boat large enough for us all?”

  “We build one,” Tienna answered.

  Braga was incredulous. “Surely you can’t want to cross Uustgond in a raft! The lake would eat us up.”

  “No, not a raft. A real boat.”

  “It would take weeks to build,” Braga argued. “Even if we knew what we were doing. Long before we were done, the Daegmons and the army would have reached us.”

  “But we do know what we’re doing,” Tienna answered. “That is to say, Elynna does. She grew up in a fishing village.”

  “Wait,” Elynna objected. “I may know what a boat looks like, but—”

  “You said your father built boats,” Bandor interrupted.

  Elynna blushed. “He built a few, but it took months to complete even a small river fishing boat for five or six people. And I never learned the tricks of his trade.”

  Tienna ignored her objections. “There is Keet also. I remember Marti telling me that the two of them had built several boats, including the one that took us across the lake. Keet grew up on Umgog, and that’s nearly as large as Uustgond.”

  “But not as wild,” Braga interrupted.

  Tienna shrugged. “Keet is young, but he knows boats. Before he joined us, he and his friend were going to sail back across Umgog alone.”

  “Okay,” Bandor conceded. “But Marti is dead now, and the young Keet has barely spoken a word since he’s joined us. Half the time he won’t even answer a question. Even suppose he does have the knowledge, and that we can convince him to do something, where would we get the wood? And the tools to shape the wood? And the time to do it?”

  “The wood isn’t a problem,” Tienna answered. “We’re surrounded by it.”

  “And the tools?” Braga asked.

  “Breanga,” Bandor answered, his eyes suddenly lighting up. “The shaper of wood. He’s the one who can build the boat for us!”

  11

  AMBUSH

  Thimeon had not completely forgotten about Lyn. Despite the many concerns occupying his thoughts over the past eleven days—finding Elynna and getting the sword to Cane or Cathros, escaping the pursuing soldiers, not getting lost or frozen or starvin
g in the mountains, the three vulnerable and inexperienced young women now traveling with him, the safety of his young sister Siarah, and trying to understand what he had read in the ancient tome—something about Lyn continued to plague him. But figuring it out was like trying to take a pile of rocks of different sizes and shapes and fit them into a solid stone wall around his gyurt pen.

  And then, just as Thimeon thought he had the stones in place, Lyn had disappeared. Nobody had seen him since the previous afternoon when they rode toward Gale Enebe. If Lyn never came back, it wouldn’t be the worst thing. Thimeon had plenty enough to worry about. But still, it nagged him.

  So it was with mixed feelings that Thimeon rounded a bend in the trail and saw, a hundred yards ahead, a tall and sturdy young man, with brown hair, leaning against a tree by the edge of the road with his back toward the approaching company. His horse was tethered to a tree a dozen yards away. He wore a woven cloak more appropriate for mild winters in the streets of Citadel than for the mountains of the Ceadani. Thimeon recognized the cloak and the horse before he had a chance to see his face or his dark brown eyes. “Lyn,” he said, under his breath.

  “Shall I run him through?” Kayam said, moving his hand to his sword.

  “No,” Thimeon answered. “I will deal with him. Wait here.”

  Lyn spun around at the sound of voices. His eyes opened wide in fright. An instant later he bolted toward his tethered horse. Thimeon put his heels to his own horse’s flanks. In the space of a few seconds he had galloped across the short distance. Lyn reached his horse just as Thimeon wheeled up beside him. He might have managed to clamber into the saddle, but his horse took a step away and he stumbled backwards, lost his grip of the saddle, and almost fell. Before he could move, Thimeon was standing on the ground beside him, holding a sword to his neck.

  “It’s you,” Lyn said, stammering. “I’m glad to see you. I was worried—”

  “Stop lying,” Thimeon replied.

  “Don’t be angry. I’ve never been in battle. I was terrified of the Daegmon.”

  “We are all afraid. For your fear I do not blame you. For betraying us several times, I do.”

  “Betraying—?” Lyn asked, with an exaggerated look of surprise. “Abandoned, but not betrayed!”

  “Would you like a list?” Thimeon interrupted. The pieces of stone he had been fitting together into that rock wall came at once to his mind. “Back in Citadel, before we left, you went back into the city to send word to the king of our escape. You told him the size of our company and what direction we were headed.” Lyn’s face turned pale. Thimeon continued. “In Kreana, when Luban told us that the soldiers knew the exact number of our company, you were quick to blame the prince. Too quick and too convenient. Then you snuck out to a tavern, found a scoundrel like yourself, and gave him a message to give to those pursuing us.”

  “No,” Lyn objected. “You saw me at Luban’s house when you arrived back.”

  “Yes, I did. And you were eager to make sure I saw you. Even now you give yourself away by pointing out to me that I saw you. Why else would you have noticed that? But I also saw that your forehead was damp from sweat. Not a surprise, since I had also seen you five minutes before that in a tavern seated with a stranger in the corner.” This was still just a guess, Thimeon knew. But he said it with all the certainly he could, and watched Lyn’s face carefully as he continued. “You were telling him, I suppose, that we were planning on traveling up the coast by ship? Did you pay him yourself, or only promise him a reward from the searchers? Either way, you weren’t happy when our plans changed.”

  “But—”

  “Then, when we started up the Ana Notch, you went back to the road to leave a message.”

  “No,” Lyn said.

  “Will you still deny it?” Thimeon asked, lifting the tip of his sword closer to Lyn’s neck. “Perhaps you didn’t expect to see us alive again.”

  Lyn was silent for several seconds. “The Daegmon wasn’t my idea,” he finally said, his voice was on the edge of desperation. “I didn’t try to have you killed. It’s true I helped Captain Golach, but not the Daegmon. You are all the outlaws. I’m not the one who has done wrong.”

  So Thimeon was right after all. Only one guess remained. “What of your sister Elynna? What makes her an outlaw?”

  Now Lyn’s eyes grew really wide. “How did you know?” Then his eyes narrowed. Thimeon’s sword was still close to his neck. “What has she told you about me? What lies?”

  “Nothing. She didn’t even tell our companions that you helped Golach capture us the first time.”

  “Then how did you know I was her brother?”

  Thimeon lowered his sword several inches. The top was at Lyn’s sternum now. “Until just now, I didn’t know. It was just a guess, as were the rest of my accusations. Though to tell the truth, little doubt remained.”

  “So I have betrayed myself,” Lyn said. His face turned shiftier, and he looked around. The rest of Thimeon’s company still hung fifty yards back, waiting for a signal from Thimeon to approach. Lyn eyed them nervously. “You were more clever than I expected,” Lyn said. “What else have you guessed?”

  “Do you want to know? I recognized you when I saw you in the tavern at Citadel, though it took time to remember how. It was from our arrest at Gale Ceathu. You were wearing a uniform then. You identified Elynna to Golach. I also observed the way you and Elynna watched each other during that trip. I did not know you were her brother, but I guessed you knew one another, and I could tell even then that you had betrayed her in some way.”

  “Betrayed,” Lyn spat. “Don’t speak of betrayal. Elynna betrayed me. She betrayed our whole family. Our whole village.”

  Thimeon dropped his sword to his side. “How?”

  “She knew the Daegmon was coming and she didn’t warn us. She had a gift and she didn’t use it.” His face was red, and tears streamed down his cheek. “Not to save her own family.”

  “What could she have done?” Thimeon asked, feeling a rush of sympathy for both Lyn and Elynna.

  “Everything,” Lyn answered. His voice rose in anger and bitterness. “It was her fault the Daegmon came in the first place. She knows it. Ask her. It came for her. She brought the destruction. Nobody in our village asked for her presence with us. What good did her powers do for us?”

  Thimeon didn’t reply at first. He knew Lyn’s words carried some truth. How many of the other villages around Gondisle had also been destroyed, and how many people killed, so that the Daegmons could destroy the gifted. But Elynna could not have known that two years ago. Nor could she have stopped it even if she had known. “So you blame her?” he asked. “And that’s why you betrayed her, and why you later tried to betray us?”

  Lyn turned his face away. When he looked back at Thimeon, his voice was cold and cynical. “If you knew so much, why did you let me stay with you?”

  “Perhaps for Elynna’s sake,” Thimeon replied. “Because for a time I—” He stopped himself. “Because she is my friend and I thought she’d want me to help you. Or perhaps it had nothing to do with her. Maybe it was just to give you a chance.”

  “Well maybe,” Lyn replied, drawing out each word. “Maybe I don’t want any more chances.” As he was speaking, his hand had come to rest on a heavy branch broken off near the bottom of the tree. Thimeon saw it out of the corner of his eyes even as he slid his blade back into its sheath. The moment his hand left the hilt, Lyn went into motion. With surprising swiftness he swung the makeshift club at Thimeon’s head. The Andan guide rolled deftly to the side avoiding the blow. But Lyn was like a cornered bear. He brought the branch back the other way and caught Thimeon in the midsection knocking him to the ground. Thimeon lay still catching his breath a moment longer than he needed to, intentionally giving Lyn opportunity to leap astride his own horse and gallop away down the trail beside the ravine.

  Kayam, Rhaan,
and Dhan were at Thimeon’s side a few moments seconds. “It wouldn’t take much to catch him,” the Scout-major said as he helped Thimeon to his feet.

  “Let him be,” Thimeon replied.

  “Are you sure?” The prince asked. “I don’t like it.”

  “What would we do if we caught him?” Thimeon asked. “I would not let you kill him, and we can’t afford the delays of dealing with a prisoner. That is why I let him go. That, and because I still hope he might repent. But it is out of my hands now. Let him be. We have other work to do.”

  Rubbing his sore ribs, Thimeon remounted his horse, and as soon as he was astride the company continued on. They came to the ford across the Cea River and onto the main road that ran all the way from Aeti southward to the far eastern corner of the Ceadani Highland. Here, at the prince’s command, Kachtin and Banthros remained behind as rear scouts in case Lyn planned some mischief. Rhaan went to scout the way ahead.

  The afternoon continued to pass and the terrain rolled by. The sky remained clear as the sun dropped toward the western horizon. In the middle of the afternoon they passed through a narrow cut between two hills. Steep ridges rose on both sides of them. At that moment Rhaan came back down the trail at a canter. “There are strange tracks ahead,” he warned. “I think some soldiers have been through here in the past day. We had best be cautious.”

  “Too late!” Dhan replied.

  Hearing the warning, Thimeon spun in his saddle and looked up the ledge on his left where the prince was looking. Six archers stood among some boulders, arrows drawn. Thimeon had barely comprehended this when he sensed a movement on the other side. He spun and saw another six archers above them on the right. While he and his companions stared in dismay, they heard the sound of galloping hooves coming from somewhere ahead, and in a matter of seconds six riders had appeared on the trail in front of them. All wore the uniform of Citadel.

  Thimeon’s companions gave several shouts of confusion as they spun their horses in all directions. One of the young women screamed. Some of the officers shouted commands, but they were contradicting one another. On the edge of panic, Thimeon whirled his horse with the thought of risking the arrows and flying back down the trail. But he was too late. More soldiers leapt from the woods behind them, and within seconds they filled the narrow way behind him with a row of spears.