The morning after the impromptu council in the Tannarí camp, Dánirah was the first to leave Senai's hut. Fresh snow covered the camp like a fluffy blanket and sparkled in the first sunlight. It felt like an iniquity to step into this pristine beauty.
Orinai joined her, A'shei snuggled up in her thick jacket. "What a beautiful day to start a journey."
Dánirah nodded. She knew it was time to move on, but she longed to stay a little longer. Still, she needed to find her mother and share the king's message with her—the content of the letter He'sha had made her learn by heart. She wasn't the only messenger the impromptu Tannarí council was sending out. He'sha himself would travel with Orinai and their son to spread the news, and other young tribes-people had volunteered and assembled now in the central place of the camp.
With a sigh, Dánirah turned to the healer. "You are right, but my heart is heavy. Last night, I dreamed of dragons and a young man I might never see again."
Orinai's eyes widened. "Do you carry Shonai's gift?"
"No, my dreams are just gibberish, not prophecies like my mother's." She didn't say how much she feared following in Shonai's footsteps. Driven across the country by her dreams, never finding rest—as much as the dreamer was referred to by her people, it was a tough life.
Dánirah was glad when Senai and Naoràn interrupted the conversation. They handed out packages with food. Senai pressed a parcel into Orinai's hands. "Here. It isn't much, but it will fill your stomach. May the morning star guide your steps." She bowed over A'shei and kissed his head. "And especially yours, little one. May your path be long and joyful."
Dánirah shivered. Senai was a seer. That she felt it necessary to address the infant couldn't be a coincidence. Then the older woman enclosed her in an embrace. "Give my greetings to your mother and always follow your heart. It is a reliable guide."
"Thank you, Senai." Dánirah stowed the provisions in her bag and said her goodbyes before she followed Orinai and He'sha.
The snow was deep enough to make walking hard work. They switched the lead now and then and were glad when they reached the old road. This time of the year, it wasn't used by wagons, but progress on the well-trodden path was easier. It led them north through forests, fields, and the rolling hills of the western Haon Valley.
Two days later, around noon, He'sha stopped at a crossroad. "This is where our paths must separate, Dánirah. We turn to the west here and try to find our relatives in Eshte. It was a fortunate day that brought us together."
"It was." Dánirah shook his hand before she hugged Orinai and kissed A'shei. "Stay safe, and may our next meeting stand beneath a better star."
Orinai smiled. "Travel well, daughter of the dreamer. And may the morning star guide you forever and a day."
Dánirah waved after the young family before she turned north again. The path led her along a brook and into a spare forest. The sun shone pale through a veil of thin clouds and couldn't warm her limbs, so she ate the last of Senai's provisions while walking. Mid-afternoon, she passed a hamlet and exchanged a few words with a woman who hung her washing. She got half a loaf of bread for a blessing on the little homestead and considered asking if she could spend the night, but decided against it. It was still early, and she pushed on. The sooner she found Shonai, the better.
~ ~ ~
Over the next days, the temperature rose, and the snow turned to slush. Dánirah's shoes were soaked and progress became slow. She wondered if she should press for the main road in the lowlands, where settlements were denser, and the opportunities to find a place to sleep under a roof would be more frequent. Out here, the farmsteads lay long distances apart. But she preferred the quiet countryside and hoped she'd be safer out here than in a more populated area.
One evening, she crossed another forest, looking for a place to spend the night. The land was flat around here, and she couldn't count on a cave or a protected crevice in a rock face. The forest looked wild and unexploited, a sign there was no village nearby. If only she could have spent more time in Senai's camp. The lonely nights outdoors wore on her mind. Even the primaeval terror projected by kaedin felt welcome once she learned to discern it from her own fears.
When the faint smell of smoke overlaid the damp odour of the forest. Dánirah stopped and turned around to locate the fire. Perhaps there was a Tannarí camp nearby? Hope sent her heartbeat soaring. The breeze carried the smoke from the east. In the fading light, she searched for a path that would lead her to its source.
The last thing she heard was the crackle of a dry twig before a blow on the head sent her crumpling to the ground.
The potent smell of pine resin stung Dánirah's nose before she opened her eyes. Beneath her, the ground was cold, wet, and bumpy, and her head hurt. She blinked and found something was wrong with her vision. Only when she tried to rub her eyes, she realised her hands were bound behind her back. Panic flooded her mind, and she tore at her bonds. But whoever had tied them and head dumped her beneath this tree had done a decent job. An attempt to move her legs proved her ankles were bound, too.
This was bad. Dánirah pressed her face against the rough bark of the pine root and inhaled the tree's scent, trying to calm down and make herself a picture of her situation. Rocks and roots pressed into her ribs, but she felt no pain except the hammering in her head. After a few deep breaths, she heard the voices and the crackle of a fire behind her. With an effort, she rolled over to face a camp scene.
The place couldn't be more different from Senai's winter camp. About a dozen bearded men sat around a fire. One of them roasted slabs of sizzling meat on long spits. Their conversation was muted, but Dánirah saw a bottle passing from one to the other. To the left, several horses stamped in the snow. A man fed them from fodder bags.
Two others stepped now into the light of the fire. To her chagrin, Dánirah realised they were warriors wearing spears and swords, but no uniforms. She had fallen afoul of a gang of mercenaries. With renewed effort, she struggled against her bonds in vain.
She must have made a noise, though, as a newcomer turned in her direction. "Seems our little guest is awake."
"Is she, now?" Another warrior stood and approached her. The sharp tobacco smoke curling from the pipe in the corner of his mouth stung Dánirah's eyes and sent a wave of nausea through her tortured body. She fought it down.
The man stopped only a step in front of her, his silhouette outlined by the fire. "What is your business out here, Tanna witch?"
Dánirah pressed her lips together.
"If you don't speak, we will have to help you find your tongue, won't we?" He plucked the pipe from his mouth and spread his arms. The glowing embers in the pipe bowl painted a fiery arc into the night. Dánirah followed the movement with her gaze, suppressing her fear.
"Ganesh, dinner is ready." Her tormentor turned around. Between his legs, Dánirah could see the man with the spit waving.
"Coming." Ganesh turned back to her and replaced the pipe between his lips. "You're lucky I'm hungry. We will continue our pleasant discussion after dinner." Before he left, he kicked her into the side.
Dánirah gasped and curled up. With trembling limbs, she fought back her tears. This man wouldn't show her mercy, as much was clear. She remembered the story Liha had told her during the night they spent on the roof together, how mercenaries had tortured and killed his family. If she got out of this situation alive, she would be lucky. She had to get away from these men. But how?
Her knife was gone, and so was her bag. Not that it contained much—a wave of relief swept through her mind—at least the king's letter was with He'sha and no longer her responsibility. She needed to run to survive. Somehow. But first, she had to free her hands. The knot in the leather strap withstood her attempt to untie it, and the more she tore at her bonds, the deeper they cut into her flesh. Perhaps she could chafe them on the tree root?
Finding a position that allowed her to work on her plan wasn't easy. At least the men were enjoying their dinner and didn't pay her attention. Their conversation got more agitated, and she interrupted her effort to listen.
"And I say we stick with the plan." This was the man who had threatened her. She recognised his wheezing voice.
"You and your plan. Let's head into the valley and find another hamlet to burn."
Several voices rose to support the suggestion.
But the leader cut them down. "Forget it. That northern lord pays us far more if we stick to his instructions than we can gain by burning down more pitiful homesteads. How much did we gain in that last one? They had no provisions and no coins."
"We had fun with the women, though." Raucous laughter supported the speaker. "Admit it, Ganesh, you enjoyed this as much as we did."
The leader stoked his beard and glanced at Dánirah over the fire. A shiver of dread ran down her spine. "Right. But we don't need this. We help the northerners to defeat the king of Kelèn, collect what we're due, and then we can have fun."
"And how is this trap supposed to work?"
Ganesh chuckled. "That's the beauty of it. It already works. The messenger we met today confirmed the king fell for the ruse, and his host is only days away from where we'll smite him."
An icy wave of terror engulfed Dánirah. It took her a moment to see through it and recognise another projection of kaedin fear. As if she wouldn't be petrified with dread without this artificial reinforcement. She kept her teeth from chattering with an effort and jerked when something moist and furry touched her wrists.
The panic dissolved, and a strange sensation of purpose flooded her mind while sharp teeth or claws shredded her bonds. Then, her rescuer scurried away, and the terror was back. Only this time, it encompassed the whole clearing. The conversation petered out, and the mercenaries reached for their weapons. Ganesh called a few names and sent them away to the north before he ordered the fire to be extinguished.
As soon as darkness swallowed the clearing, Dánirah didn't hesitate. She scrambled up and dashed for the forest on numbed feet. Her progress was slow, as she didn't dare draw the mercenaries' attention by crashing through the undergrowth. Tears of desperation shot into her eyes while she rubbed her wrists to get the feeling back into her hands. The ruckus in the camp behind her told her the kaedin still worked their magic. She stopped to calm herself and come up with a plan. Should she try to hide? But in the morning, her tracks in the muddy ground would betray her. Better to move on and bring as much distance as possible between herself and the mercenaries. Calmer, she set one foot in front of the other.
At first, she thought her imagination made up the light bobbing ahead between the trees. Then she heard the sound reminding her of a tiny silver bell. The xylin had found her. Hope soared like a precious flame as Dánirah followed her trusty little guide through the darkness.
(2025 words)