Seer of Souls (The Spirit Shield Saga Book 1) Page 13

  Sheba watched all this from a position she had taken up at the cave entrance. Cayden knew she was guarding his back while he worked. He felt her presence in his mind and the other wolves distantly. None remained of Sheba’s pack.

  The water in the pot bubbled. Cayden added some dried salt pork, dried beans, and some dried onions. He gave the mixture a quick stir and the fetched the tin of tea from the shelf, sprinkling a hand full of leaves into the kettle.

  He then joined Sheba at the mouth of the cave, satchel in hand. He sat down beside her, pulled out his flask with the healing water, a sharp knife, and some bandaging material. He stroked her fur. She rested her chin on his thigh.

  “I need to take that arrow out now, girl.” She lifted her eyes in response to his voice, trust in her eyes. “I will snap the shaft off as close to the entry point as I can. I need to pull on the arrow to get the rest out of you. OK?” He did not know if she understood his words or if it was the tone of his voice.

  Gritting his teeth, he set to cutting the shaft of the arrow. Sheba growled and squirmed as the bolt shifted in her skin. The shaft broke off with a snap. “I am going to pull on the arrowhead here now. OK?” She panted, seeming to understand. Cayden gripped the arrowhead and quickly pulled. Sheba yelped and whimpered. The arrow pulled free. Fresh blood poured from the wound. Cayden quickly soaked two bandages in the water and pressed them to the wounds and held them. Sheba shuddered and lowered her head to her paws, panting. Slowly she relaxed as the water’s soothing healing took effect. Cayden wrapped the cloths in place with more bandaging and tied them off. He then fetched a bowl from the shelf and poured the last of the water into it and placed it in front of Sheba. She thirstily drank it down.

  Suddenly, Sheba’s head came up and she growled a low growl. She stood up, hackles rising along her back. Cayden got to his feet and peered out of the cleft. Men were approaching on foot. The lead man paused and knelt examining Cayden’s trail, and then their heads swivelled toward the cave.

  “Do not move!” Cayden commanded, as he grabbed Sheba’s scruff. He wished he had a weapon. Sheba would have to do. She growled low in her throat and shifted in front of Cayden, sensing his alarm.

  “Cayden, it’s me, Darius.” Darius stepped forward, hands displayed for Cayden. He jerked his head towards his companions. “They wanted to come help you. They were waiting for me when I returned to the tent.”

  “It’s OK, Sheba. They are friends.” She continued to growl protectively and then licked his hand. He scratched her behind the ear.

  They approached the cave and came to an abrupt halt as the wolf growled warningly at them from the shadowed entrance. Darius stopped in surprise. “What are you doing with a wolf?” Darius handed Cayden his satchel that he had retrieved from their shared tent. Sheba’s lips curled back in warning at the movement. Darius snatched his hand away and backed up.

  Cayden patted Sheba comfortingly. “We found we needed each other and joined forces. Never hurts to have an extra pair of eyes, especially ones as sharp as hers.”

  “Yes…but a wolf?” The others crowded in around Darius, leery of approaching Cayden while Sheba still rumbled warning.

  Cayden shrugged. “Come on in. I have a stew cooking. With a few more beans, there should be enough for everyone.” Sheba followed him back to the fire as the men filtered in and took up positions along the one wall. Her eyes followed them, marking their movements. She took up her position at the door again and lay down, clearly guarding the entrance once more.

  The smell of the cooking stew drew the men like butterflies to nectar and they crowded around the pot, sniffing appreciatively. Cayden tossed in some more beans and some additional dried pork and let the stew cook while he sorted through the contents of his satchel. He felt around the base and found that all his essentials were there. He could feel his flutes in the bottom of his satchel, untouched.

  Cayden gave the pot a final stir and then ladled stew into the wooden bowls. Famished, they set to eating, gobbling down the food without speaking.

  After pouring a cup of tea for himself, Cayden brought a bowl with pork scraps to Sheba. He then settled with his back against the wall between the newcomers and Sheba. She thumped her tail and ate the offering hungrily.

  “So tell me, Darius, how did you all come to be here?” Cayden’s gaze took in all five men. How well do I really know them?

  “We insisted on coming, Cayden.” Pieter poured himself a cup of tea also. “We all felt bad about what went down back at camp. Sergeant Perez was completely out of line. When we couldn’t find you or Darius later on, we knew something bad was going on. He acted strangely toward you from the first day. We all saw it.”

  Darius took up the story. “So they followed me back to where Ziona was waiting. Sergeant Perez never showed up for roll call, not the evening or the morning one. Ziona sent us on this way to catch up with you.”

  “Cayden, what’s going on? Why did they accuse you of murdering a soldier?” Pieter asked. “The man with Sergeant Perez, he’s not a regular soldier of the legion. He arrived a couple days before you did.” The other men nodded in agreement.

  “We were told he was sent by the queen. He roamed around the camp, checking out the younger recruits. We never saw him do much of anything else,” said James. “I think he is some kind of military police or the queen’s personal guard. He asked a lot of questions about everyone’s background, where they were from, that kind of thing. Strange man, we all thought. It was like he was hunting someone though. We dubbed him ‘the Inquisitor’ as a nickname.” He peered curiously at Cayden.

  Cayden stared into his cup of tea. He had no idea who the officer was. He had not worn any insignia. If he had arrived just before Cayden volunteered, that would mean he was the lord that rode into town with the legion on the first day. Obviously, he was not searching for a murderer as that event occurred later. Cayden remembered the hatred in his eyes when he had glimpsed him outside of the inn.

  He looked around at the silently waiting men. How much should he tell them? They deserved some of the truth. They had irrevocably bound their lives to his in deciding to follow after him. Foolish as it was, they had shown themselves to be friends and he decided they should not be left totally in the dark. He raised his head to find their faces staring at him.

  “I did not kill anyone. My friend did.” Leaving names out of the story, he told them what had happened that day. It seemed so long ago. Heads nodded as the story progressed. When Cayden finished speaking, silence descended on the cave. Cayden got up, retrieved another lamp from the shelf, and lit the wick.

  “So this Inquisitor, what is his reason for being here? We assumed he was sent by the queen too,” Darius said.

  Cayden shrugged. He had no answer for them.

  “You sure know how to make friends, Cayden,” Pieter laughed. “I mean, we walk up and say hello while you cliff folk stick ’em with steel. Mind you, he probably deserved it, that one. Dangerous enemies to have though, I think.”

  “Now you know why you shouldn’t be following me,” Cayden urged. “I will be hunted, now they know I am out here. There are sure to be soldiers following me. If I were you, I’d sneak away and go back home. Best not to be found anywhere near me.”

  The others laughed.

  “We are no longer farm boys, Cayden, any more than you are,” Pieter said. “I fancy seeing a bit of the world, so I will stick around, if it’s all the same.” Heads bobbed in agreement.

  Cayden shook his head, frustrated with their foolishness.

  “I think I will turn in.” Cayden tried to suppress the yawn in his voice. “I really didn’t get much sleep last night.” He grabbed a blanket and a mat from the rack and unrolled them near Sheba. Opening his satchel, he extracted his short knife and placed it within reach of his hand. He crawled under the blanket and Sheba nestled in beside him. They were asleep before the rest had finished their teas.

  Cayden woke with a start about five hours later. Sheba’s head came
up at the same time. Someone approached the cave with a soft-booted walk. Strangely, Sheba did not growl. Cayden placed his hand on the knife. The moon silhouetted a figure, standing in the entrance of the cave. Ziona entered and spied Cayden. Sheba huffed and then put her head back down on her paws. Ziona placed her bag on the floor and, gathering a mat and blanket, stretched out near them with relief. She closed her eyes and fell promptly to sleep.

  Chapter 24

  DAWN LIGHT FILTERED into the opening of the cave, announcing a new day. Cayden sat up, rubbing his eyes. He stretched his ribs and found only a very slight tenderness remained. His ribs were fully healed, marvelling again at the potion Ziona had concocted for him.

  He glanced over to see her eyes open and staring at him. She put a finger to her lips and then motioned for him to follow her outside. Sheba rose and followed, her limp much improved this morning. Cayden followed Ziona to the edge of the trees away from the cave, so as to not disturb the sleeping occupants. Cayden stopped in front of her, gathering her beautiful green eyes to his, and promptly became lost in them. He shook his head to dispel the spell.

  “Thank you for helping me yesterday. What was in that water? It worked miracles.”

  Ziona stroked his face. “I will show you how to prepare it. It is a simple preparation but requires very rare ingredients. Sufficed to say, I made enough to keep us for a time if used sparingly. Your legion mates found you,” she said, waving in the direction of the cave. “They made good time.”

  “Yes, they arrived late yesterday afternoon. Where have you been?”

  “I had to make sure my back trail was clear before coming on to you. Rest assured no one has followed you to this site, other than those whom I have sent.” She glanced down at Sheba. “Is she from the pack of dead wolves I found back in the woods?”

  “Yes. I don’t know who did this, but I did keep some arrows and a piece of a cloak one of the wolves had torn off in the fighting. Do you want me to get them?”

  “Yes, let’s take a look at them.”

  Cayden walked back to the cave and retrieved his satchel into which he had tucked the strange arrows. He extracted them and turned them over in his hands, examining the black fletching and shortened shafts. He handed them carefully to Ziona along with the torn piece of black cloth. Sheba whined and trotted off into the woods. Cayden didn’t blame her; the memories were sad ones for him also.

  Ziona examined the arrows. She frowned and then took the cloth from him. The fabric was light as gossamer silk yet resisted tearing or fraying. It must have taken the wolf a lot of strength to pull it free. Ziona’s thoughts returned to a large male wolf she had spied in the forest, lying dead on ground. If the same wolf that tore this piece of cloth free, the three arrows in its body was a testament to his determination to not let go.

  Ziona’s brows drew down in a scowl. “Walk with me, Cayden.” She strode away, stiff-backed from the cave. Reaching the woods, she ducked behind the large willow and spun to him. “Do you have any idea who hunts you?” she demanded.

  Cayden frowned and shook his head. “No, there were none present when Sheba took me there. She led me to the site. I think she was the only one to survive. She had an arrow through her shoulder when she found me. Why do you assume they were hunting me?”

  “You had better thank your lucky stars they were not around. They were hunting you. Of that there can be no question.”

  Cayden’s eyes widened, meeting her earnest ones.

  “What hunts you is called the Charun. They are the dead spirits of our land, Primordials who have been slain in battle and their souls received by the Goddess of the Dead, Helga. For them to walk the land again, they must be summoned by a Dark Primordial High Priest or Priestess. I did not believe that the legend had survived till this time, let alone the knowledge of how to animate them.” She walked away and paced five stiff steps and then five stiff steps back, stopping in front of him.

  She grasped his arms reading the fear in his green eyes. “The Seekers were taught about Charun by the Mother Priestess as part of our training. This knowledge is only passed to a few chosen ones. The knowledge of how to raise the Charun from the dead is kept strictly with the High Priestess, of course. The implications of them being here is worrisome.”

  Cayden struggled to get his lips to move. They had frozen in a perfect O shape of horror at her words. Charun! But the Charun are a myth! Minions of the underworld; legendary creatures used by village parents to frighten disobedient children. In all the old stories, they were described as loathsome creatures, terrifying to behold and now walking the earth…hunting him. Wait! Hunting him?

  “Charun are, of course, already dead. It is very difficult, therefore; to kill one…or de-animate one would be a better description. One cannot kill what is already dead.” She looked back when she realized he hadn’t moved. He was frozen to the spot, horror freezing his limbs as though encased in ice.

  Ziona took his hands in hers. She touched him this time, not to measure for clothes, not to heal, but to provide comfort and solace. She tugged on his hands pulling him close and wrapped her arms around him, drawing him into her embrace.

  Cayden found it hard to unbend, to relax. He was shocked to his very core. Confusion had his thoughts running in all directions. Should he flee? Should he hide? Should he fight? But how? Where? Why? Above all, the question why was stuck in his mind. Why was this happening to him? Answers…he needed answers. Someone must know why!

  He shuddered in her arms. Ziona soothed his back with a gentle hand. He met her eyes at last and asked the simple question, burning within him.

  “Why, Ziona?”

  “I don’t have all the answers, Cayden. I know you are special and they seem to know it too. How knowledge of you reached their masters, I do not know either. I am glad I found you in time. And know this for a fact. I will protect your life before my own. From here on out, we will not be separated.” She released him and checked the cave entrance again. All was still; the men slept on. “You are collecting quite a following. Something about you calls to the men around you. They sense something special about you, I think, greatness yet to fully flower. They are unconsciously answering that call. You will have to lead them.”

  Cayden snorted. “Lead them? Lead them where? If I am being chased by Charun, then I should tell them all to leave me and flee! It would be stupid of them to follow me, maybe even fatal!”

  “You need them, Cayden. You cannot do this alone. They follow you out of choice. No man should take that choice away from them. You can explain the risk, but in the end the choice remains theirs.”

  “What is it I am supposed to do, Ziona? I don’t understand what is happening. I don’t know where to go.”

  Ziona gazed at him a long while. “I think you do know what to do. Where does your heart say to go? What are your instincts? Close your eyes and clear your mind. What feels right?”

  Cayden closed his eyes. He slowed his breathing, stilling his racing heart. Ziona placed her fingertips at his temple and massaged in a slow circle. Peace flowed into him.

  Where do I need to go? He let his mind float and suddenly there bloomed into his mind a castle wall surrounding tall towers of stone soaring above the ramparts. A flag snapped in the breeze…the flag of the queen.

  His eyes jerked open. Ziona’s were inches from his. He felt her sweet breath on his cheek. He stepped back, breaking contact. “I saw a castle. The queen’s flag was flying there.”

  She frowned. “You are being drawn to the castle of she who is likely behind all of this?” Ziona shook her head in puzzlement. “What could possibly lie that way but death?” She hugged her arms around her middle as she paced. “Sharisha warned me not to interfere with your choices, but this hardly seems wise.” She stopped in front of him, studying him again. “All right, we do it your way. We travel for the capital city of Cathair. It’s time we roused the men. We need to keep moving.” She headed back to the cave, Cayden following in her wake.

  S
heba returned from her hunt with a rabbit clutched in her jaws. She trotted up beside Cayden and then growled a warning once again. Her eyes were fixed down the road to the east. Cayden squinted and saw a faint dust cloud rising to announce the presence of riders, multiple riders by the amount of dust in the air. He called out to Ziona and pointed in the direction of the cloud. By unspoken mutual agreement, they slid back into the trees to watch the oncoming riders.

  The dust storm resolved into about fifty horses, only half of which were actually being ridden. Each rider led an empty-saddled mount. They were not soldiers. There were no wagons, which ruled out a merchant train.

  The lead rider came into view and with a yelp, Cayden leapt from the trees and bolted out into the field and started waving his arms like a windmill. Sheba bounded after him and took up a defensive position in front of him. Ziona hissed and quickly followed, pulling a set of sharp knives from her sleeves and brandishing them.

  Cayden stopped in surprise and then grinned. “It’s my best friend, Ryder!” He swung back to the road and hollered, “Ryder, you big lump, I’m over here!” He wasn’t sure if it was his hollering or if it was the flapping arms, but Ryder slowed and turned his mount toward him.

  Suddenly, Ryder put boot to ribs and his horse bolted toward Cayden. Just as suddenly, the horse shied and Ryder nearly went straight over his horse’s neck. His mount had spotted Sheba, who had grown to twice her normal size, fur distended from her body.

  Ryder leapt down from his mount and continued on foot. Cayden patted Sheba and told her it was all right. She slowly relaxed but continued to growl softly. Ryder glanced at the wolf and stopped. “Is that you, Cayden?”

  Cayden covered the distance between them and grabbed Ryder in a bear hug in response. Ryder crushed him back and then they were both talking at once. The men riding with Ryder halted on the road, watching the reunion.

  Ziona walked up, tucking the knives back up her sleeves as she approached.

  Behind her, the cave suddenly erupted with men, all brandishing weapons and running towards Cayden and Ziona.