Dreams of the Oracle

Chapter 32

"You, you didn't bring me here! Ravena sent me here so she could bring me to her master, the baron," blurted Cassandra.

Oh, I am sure that is what she believes.

"What do you want?"

I want you to see something for me. Something very special.

"No."

No? Why sweet Cassandra? Why not?

Cassandra continued shivering under the hard gaze of her captor,

"You're evil."

What about you father? You have seen what will happen. Would you abandon him to his fate?

"I don't trust you. You are a liar."

Semilidinatch suddenly broke into peals of harsh laughter. The sound echoed in her mind and in her ears. It was the sound of shattered glass and broken tree limbs. It was cold and mirthless as an approaching storm. Cassandra wanted to cover her ears and cry out against the horrible sound.

Cassandra sweet Cassandra, this bargain is only a gift. I do not need your permission. I am the master here.

* * *

Ashur sat in the back of a simple canvas covered wagon. Segurant sat beside him. The rest of the men were the Janin that had been at the meeting. The leader, or Sword, was sitting across from him with the sword of Janos resting in between his legs.

The men were all packed tightly. Yet, Ashur noticed that none of them seemed the least bit uncomfortable. They all seemed perfectly at ease with being bunched together in the back of a small wagon. Ashur himself felt his legs cramping as he tried repeatedly to resituate himself. One or two of the Janin smiled at his discomfort and glanced at one another knowingly. Everyone else's faces could have been set in stone.

The wagon bumped and dipped at a breakneck pace over the simple dirt road leading out of Aerico. Ashur checked the daggers he had been issued before climbing inside. He had six and each one was made of silver. The daggers were all neatly tucked into six sheathes across a leather strap that went over one's chest. The Janin who had given them to him had also given him a canteen,

"Right before you go into battle. Shake this up and pour it over the blades. Remember to do all of them," he had said eyeing Ashur contemptuously.

"What's in it?"

"Bone water," replied the man turning away.

"What's bone water?"

But the man had already walked away. Ashur had watched him for a moment and then strapped the daggers across his chest. The canteen he buckled at his hip. Then Segurant had tapped him on the shoulder and they had piled into the wagon with everybody else.

Ashur was surprised at how fast the wagon was moving. He had only seen two horses hitched up when he had climbed inside. Yet the wagon was holding eight men, nine counting the driver, and they were almost flying across the simple dirt roads. Moreover they were taking the journey at dusk and the lack of light was normally recklessly dangerous for a galloping horse.

"How are they keeping this pace?" he asked Segurant finally after nearly being thrown from his seat from a large bump.

"The horses of the Order come from the Camenae Horsemasters," said Segurant quietly." They could keep this pace for three days without rest."