Seth had held the hope that land was just over the next crest of the rolling waves or just beyond the next horizon. Br’yan and Galan had also been hopeful. But days of nothing save dark waters had tainted that hope and the possibility of safe landfall waned. Now Seth could only lie idle with all his energy drained. Only his training kept his mind semi-clear and his thoughts open. I am Brother Seth of the Red, First of that order, Queen’s Protector, he repeated many times in his mind.

  He sought to cleanse his mind of questions he didn’t want to answer. Nonetheless, the questions came. The ambush set by King Mark at the hand of Sathar the Dark had been too well planned. How could the enemy have known their plans so precisely? Was there a traitor among them? Had there been a traitor on the Lady L leading the enemy to them?

  No, it can’t be, it just can’t be. The thought of a traitor having been among them was too painful for Seth to consider. Brother did not betray brother. No, I must focus. Seth returned to the cleansing meditation.

  Seth, came the whisper into his mind.

  I am Brother Seth of the Red, First of that order, Queen’s Protector. I must maintain clear thoughts…

  SETH?

  Yes, my brother, I am still here.

  Seth, what will it be like in this land of Men? asked Galan.

  Still lost in his meditation, it took Seth a moment to slip back into reality, a task accomplished only after Galan repeated her question. Seth said, It will be different, far different from anything we have ever seen that is for sure. Long ago our people often journeyed to their villages and cities. Our lands and cultures were close together then. It had been a peaceful time, but then came the Great Wars. The last and most devastating treacheries were the Race Wars during which Man drove all their distant cousins away. Into the far corners of the world we fled and never in over five hundred years have we ventured back into their lands.

  Seth felt Galan fight to remain coherent. Galan asked, What did you learn during those many weeks you studied them? Do you really think they will help us? Or will it all be for nothing…

  Her faith was waning and Seth knew this. Once we explain what is taking place, it will be their cause as it is ours. They must aid us. But it could take a long time to explain. These Men,—Seth said the word with distaste—prefer to stay out of the affairs of others until they are sure they have a marked interest in what is taking place. They often wait until it is too late.

  Seth, began Galan, there was a serious note in the unspoken voice, there is something I should tell you that I haven’t, something I overheard—

  —I do not wish to know thoughts that I was not meant to. Some things are best left unknown.

  ` Like why you prepared for a journey to the lands of Man even before Queen Mother consulted High Council. And why your lessons began even before we learned of Sathar’s return.

  A chill swept up and down Seth’s back as he pictured Sathar the Dark in his mind’s eye. He was unsure whether he should voice the truth or not—but what did it really matter anyway?

  There is much more in peril than our homes and lands. Queen Mother knew this.

  Seth, I grow tired. I must rest. Will you play the image Brother Liyan gave to you, the image of the green forest? I wish to dream…

  Some hours later, Seth looked to Galan, who was still sleeping, and wondered if dreams of the forest still swept through her mind. In his mind’s eye, he saw her as she had been in Kapital. Poised with her hand on her hip, she seemed to be waiting for him. The image faded though like so many others before it and soon he was back staring out into the expanse of the open sea.

  He knew little of the sea and winds, but, unlike Br’yan and Galan, he had been on the canals of Kapital with Sailmaster Cagan. He used a makeshift hook and tied bits of colored cloth to it, then cast out his line, a length of string from his robe. Over these past days, he had enjoyed no luck and while it truly seemed there was no life in the deep sea, he was not about to give up.

  A hazy dawn eventually gave way to day as the sun made its inevitable climb. With irony, Seth remembered now that he had once prayed for the day’s arrival to end the bitter cold of night. But the night didn’t steal precious moisture from his weary body, the sun did.

  The day gradually grew hot and dry. Seth found that his thoughts were beginning to wander. He maintained consciousness, but only barely so while he cast the line out and pulled it in slowly, as he had once been shown. He tried to hold on to the image of Galan as she had been. Strong and true.

  At one point, out of the corner of his eye, Seth saw Br’yan moving about the raft, but inevitably as the sun beat down upon him, thirst and hunger took over. His thoughts began to wander and shift despite his best efforts. Seth attempted to clear his thoughts, but this required a complete conscious effort, which, under the torment of the blistering sun, with strength draining from his body little by little, Seth could not give it. He could only mourn the loss he could do nothing to regain. He perceived himself as a hapless child. He, First of the Red, with all his knowledge and skills could not resolve their dilemma.

  Seth soon found himself drifting back to sleep.

  We’re in danger, warned Br’yan. Krens!

  Seth came alert in an instant. It seemed he had just closed his eyes, but then he took note of the light of a virgining day on the horizon. Then suddenly Br’yan’s warning registered in his mind. By the Father! Galan, Everrelle!… Everrelle?

  Galan awoke. Everrelle didn’t. For some reason one of the great gray beasts began attacking the bottom of the raft. Br’yan pulled in the fishing line. Seth noticed there was something on it. Seth asked, You caught something?

  Br’yan started to reply, In a way—

  Br’yan’s voice was drowned out by Galan’s scream. Dear Father. Everrelle, Everrelle?

  Galan directed thoughts to Seth. The infection, it’s worse… Then she turned back to Everrelle. Stay with me, stay with us, don’t go. ‘We’ll survive the journey together,’ you said. Hold on, promise me you’ll hold on…

  Another of the gray beasts that lurked just beneath the surface of the water nudged the raft.

  Get Everrelle away from the edge! exclaimed Br’yan.

  Days without food meant exhaustion. Galan too was exhausted, and the exhaustion only magnified her alarm and her panic. Seth could see it in her eyes. He directed Br’yan to crawl to the other side of the raft and help Galan with Everrelle. Then he concentrated on angry thoughts and sent them into the minds of the dark shapes beneath the water.

  The raft shook as it was buffeted by tail and fin. Angrily and relentlessly, Seth, Galan and Br’yan beat at the dark shapes until the raft shook no more. The three stood quietly, huddled together, and stared into the dark waters.

  One by one, fatigue overwhelmed them. Br’yan was the first to collapse, Seth the last. Silence followed.

  Galan broke the long silence, with a very soft whisper, Everrelle is gone… She promised she’d hold on, she promised.

  Seth didn’t answer immediately. Sleep was trying to lull him. He felt Everrelle’s passing, but could do nothing more than wish her a safe journey. After a few minutes, he directed a response to Galan, Sleep, my brother, save your strength.

  Chapter Sixteen:

  Return

  “Father Jacob, will she be all right?” demanded Captain Brodst. His heart pounded rapidly in his ears, a lump swelled in his throat. He paced back and forth, and waved a torch haphazardly about in the air, paying little attention to the water and muck that dripped from his uniform. The young Princess Adrina, her face deathlike, was his only concern.

  He feared the worst for Adrina as her face grew ashen. He was positive King Andrew would have his head for this. His despair grew, so did his anger and frustration. Again, he yelled at Father Jacob who apparently was not listening to him. “Father, will she be all right?”

  Father Jacob had worked frantically ever since Captain Brodst had rescued Adrina from the murky waters of the mire. Although a male, he knew the art of healing well and had attempted to work its miracles on her almost immediately. Yet he was growing annoyed by the captain’s repeated inquiries and this distracted him.

  “Perhaps, perhaps,” he hissed back at the captain, “if you give me some silence!”

  Keeper Martin touched a hand to the captain’s shoulder and said, “Do not worry so. Father Jacob knows what he is doing. Give him some room and the silence he asks for, then trust in him and Great-Father.” Then he returned the captain’s cloak and sword belt.

  Captain Brodst took the belt and cloak and donned them. He chased off the reassuring hand. He didn’t want to be soothed. He wanted Adrina to regain consciousness and to ensure this, he whispered numerous pleas to Great-Father.

  There was doubt in Father Jacob’s mind as he continued to labor over Adrina, his healing abilities were not as great as those who were of the Mother. Jacob would have offered his soul to have a priestess of the Mother stumble across their path if he hadn’t believed that somehow he could save Adrina—after all, she had been in the presage. All he had to do was to overcome his doubt.

  Instinctively, Father Jacob had laid Adrina on her side and managed to clear some of the water from her lungs, still she had not regained consciousness, nor did she breathe. Father Jacob could not touch enough of the Mother’s will to draw upon her powers to cure. Only after special prayers were sent to Great-Father to give him the extra strength necessary did Jacob begin to chant the incantation—the ancient litany of life and healing. He wouldn’t think it odd that fate had brought him to this path until sometime later as he reflected upon this happening.

  Erase doubt, he reminded himself, think only of healing and life. He continued the rhythmic chanting.

  A noticeable shift swept across Adrina’s features, her chest rose once and then fell as her body convulsed. Soon Father Jacob heard the strangled sounds of the girl choking on water still in her lungs. He slapped her back repeatedly and forced her to cough.

  Adrina choked on the water she spit up, and gasped frantically for air. She inhaled deeply and rapidly. Violently she vomited the mixture of water and mud she had swallowed—Jacob never broke the rhythmic tone of the litany of life and healing. After a moment, Adrina stopped her convulsing and regained her senses. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she reached up to embrace Father Jacob.

  “I’m sorry,” she whimpered, “I’m sorry.” She closed her eyes briefly against the tears and let the elder hold her.

  “Blankets! Get me some blankets, now!” said Father Jacob. He was clearly drained of all his strength. His face was pale and wet with perspiration. He sighed, he had done it, he had succeeded. “We must keep her warm. She will need to get some deep rest soon, and in a warm, comfortable bed.”

  Silence prevailed for a time afterward as Jacob’s words settled on those listening—they must get through this damnable mire and reach the elusive castle somewhere in the distance. Night had settled upon them somewhere during the journey through the mire or perhaps in the frantic moments following Adrina’s near fatal accident. Only Father Jacob truly knew how close Adrina had come to death’s door, for he was of Great-Father and Great-Father knew all, especially in matters of death.

  With unsettling certainty, Father Jacob knew that an unseen evil had been at hand. Great-Father had sensed it and so had he. He raised his crossed stave, the holy symbol of his office, in one hand and thrummed it defiantly at the empty air. Not far away to the south, gazing into the magical orb in his outstretched hand, continuing his eternal watch over the destined few, Xith whispered words of protection for the priest and for the girl. It was the same warding spell he had cast as the sea sought to claim Seth; the same warding spell he cast about himself and the boy now as he raced urgently toward destiny.

  The End

 

 

  Robert Stanek, Winds of Change

 

 

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