The Tome of Law Collection

Chapter 3-1

Zya paid little attention to her steed as Red decided to follow the caravan as it wound its way slowly across the countryside. At first unsure of what his rider wanted to do, Red rolled his eyes and snorted often in an attempt to get some direction. After a while though he gave up and just moved slowly with the loose herd to which he belonged. Since the spout of action the previous week, Zya had been content to soak up the quiet, revelling in the peace that was the mountainous northern end of Ciaharr. The region was generally accepted to be between an East-West line across from the Raessan mountain spur and the headwaters of the River Ard. Layric had instructed Zya in geography and cultures as part of her upbringing. Unlike Mavra and Erilee, Zya found the whole topic riveting and absorbed the knowledge of the peoples like a sponge. She knew that this region had never really had a ruler, as the Uporan nomads were often seen in the region, and any ruler would surely have put a stop to that. The land to the South was governed to a point, but aside from the major centres of power in the coastal cities, villages were isolated, governing themselves. This was the way it had always been, with one set of rules generally accepted across the region. Layric could not tell her about the rules when pressed further though, only that they concerned basic decency and fairness.

She mused on these thoughts as she let Red wander around the wagons. Occasionally, she would see Gren or one of the others staring at her with an inquiring look on their faces, and she would smile her dazzling smile to let them know she was fine. She had actually spared a thought for her horse, and figured since he was a fairly intelligent beast, he would find the right path. It eased her conscience to know she had been proven right. The two other girls had remained perched on one wagon or another for most of the week; their efforts at the continual riding lessons given by her father becoming greatly futile as the week progressed. Tarim had been more than patient with the girls. He encouraged them when they were doing well, and was supportive towards them when the effort became too much. The girls were seemingly destined to follow their parents on the wagon seat rather than the saddle. Zya mused again what a joy they were missing out on, but the thought drifted away on the gentle breeze and she went back to what currently held her thoughts.

The two captives were still tied to the back of the wagon. What had her confused was the fact that they were still there. She knew from their initial encounter that they were formidable as foes, and it was blind luck that they had been overcome. Though Zya rarely let anything disturb her, she was uneasy about the fact that they were still there. She turned suddenly at the sound of someone shouting.

“Erilee! Come away from there!”

It was Jani shouting. Erilee it seemed was mesmerised in some way by the captives, finding her way near them several times since their capture. She would hop down from the wagon to go to the river, or perform a chore for one of the adults, and when she didn"t return they would find her walking alongside the pair. One night, when they were camped for the evening, a search for Erilee eventually found her only a few feet away from the man with the dark features, just staring into his eyes. There seemed to be no way to separate her from them; intuition still told Zya that capturing them was a mistake. There was mystery surrounding the pair – that was for sure. The code of the travellers forbade any of them from interfering with the captives so they had no idea what the second captive looked like. They knew he had regained consciousness by the grunts made when Jaden prodded him once.

They had taken no food and only a little water all week. There had been no excuse for him to reveal himself and that concerned her all the more. Still, Zya was more concerned with the approaching forest. The dark green mass of foliage had been a slight stain on the horizon for the last few days where they could see the treetops. But now they were nearing the valley, the immensity of the forest suddenly made itself known. It had a distant beauty, the green stark against the blue of the sky and the pale green of the surrounding land. As long as it was far off, it did not impose, did not threaten. Zya had never really been into a large forest before; the travellers preferred the open ground with good tracks. She dimly remembered passing through the northern reaches of what she knew to be the Merdon forest, but they had mostly stuck to the open areas to ply their trade. She had heard stories about the great wood on the southern coast, and these were mainly what fuelled her fear about the dense woodland. Zya resolved she would keep her fears to herself though, as she reasoned any fool may tell a tale, but the true fools were those who listened to the wrong ones; a favourite saying of the Mistress when one of the children had run telling tales. It confused the others, but Zya appreciated its meaning, learning to not take things at face value, but to look for hidden depths.

Zya looked down at the trail, noting how it was becoming more defined. It was this that caused her to look up and see her father riding alongside her. He smiled “Distracted?”

Zya stretched and inhaled deeply. “How anyone could not forget their problems in such countryside is beyond me, Father. I feel privileged beyond measure to be out in such perfection.”

Tarim looked where Zya had been staring. “I see you have noted the increased use of the road.”

Zya glanced down. “Yes, I assume we are reaching a village after all of this time. Do we wait with patience, or do we ride on ahead?” Zya asked this knowing full well that protocol dictated that they should not stray from the caravan when entering a populace. Tarim raised an eyebrow, shifting on his steed as it frisked in the warm breeze.

“What makes you think we should do that dear? You know we are supposed to remain together until we enter the settlement; there could be all manner of hostile welcome for us in there.”

“We are hardly in the typical group of travellers, Father, and we are definitely not in the normal situation. I just think if we find out there is somewhere secure to deposit the two, instead of turning up unannounced with captives, then things will go easier. I don"t know why Father, but I feel this is right.” Tarim"s face darkened as his brow lowered in concentration. After a few seconds it appeared to Zya that he had made his decision.

“It seems we are all crossing uncharted land with this past week or so. Let us confer with Venla, as we will not be going ahead against her wishes.” Father and daughter turned their horses and set them to a canter. Red seemed much more alert to Zya, as he finally had some active guidance instead of being left to his own devices. He was eager to burn off some energy and by the time they reached the head of the wagons, they were at a full gallop.

As they reined in, Layric waved from the front of the lead wagon, one of his russet hounds at his side. “What has you two in such a hurry?” He looked around, indicating the countryside with one hand before rubbing his hound"s ears. “This is surely the time for reflection and thought rather than haste.”

“We are nearing a settlement, Layric. Zya here wants permission to go ahead to check there are secure lodgings for our guests. I will accompany her if it is the wish of the mistress.”

Layric watched his other two hounds jumping and snapping at low flying birds, their glossy red coats almost on fire with the effect of the sun"s rays. “Venla, oh great mistress mine, come up here dear.”

Venla poked her youthful face out of the van and saw Tarim and Zya besides the wagon. She smiled. “Been out enjoying the terrain? From the look of your horses I wouldn"t do that too often today or they will be useless tomorrow.”

Tarim flashed her a grin, making her blush slightly. “No problem with that mother, but we do have a bit of an issue that needs resolving.”

Venla looked off to the distant curving of the river. “Has this anything to do with Hoebridge? I knew we were getting close, but I did not realise how close.”

Zya spoke up. “Mother, I feel that at the very least we should look to see that the place can take our "captives". They have been around us too long and I don"t see us lasting with them much longer.”

Venla stared directly into Zya"s eyes for a moment and then nodded. “Child, is this what you think, or what you feel?” Zya looked within herself. There had been something about the pair when she had first seen them, all be it at full gallop on Red"s back. The niggling feeling had worsened over the week, as if their presence prolonged was a future disaster for the group.

“It is what I feel, mother. I cannot explain it, but if we are not rid of them soon, something terrible is going to come of it, I am sure.” Layric looked flushed. He kept silent, but he was clearly opposed to any breach of protocol.

Venla gazed at him, as if her authority, tempered with her youthful looks would quiet any possible outburst. “I know, my husband. It is against the principles set down by those in the past.” She turned back to Zya. “But Ramaji has told me remarkable things about you, child. It seems you can see deeper into things than others do.” Venla stood to get a better view of the terrain, her braid falling from its perch on her shoulders to settle at her back She peered at the distant curve of the glittering river, then at the well worn tracks in the ground.

“It cannot be more than a couple of Leagues from Hoebridge. I see no harm in you riding on ahead to see about procuring some more permanent lodgings for our guests. Tarim, keep her company. I think that was your plan anyway.” Venla said the last bit with a smile that looked magnificent in the afternoon sun.

Tarim thought to himself that his friend Layric was a lucky man indeed. “Most perceptive of you mother” he replied with a small bow from the seat of his saddle. “We will seek the best lodgings of the type available for our guests. Come Zya, the day gets no younger as we whittle it away here.” With a nod from Tarim and a small wave from Zya, the two rode off down the dusty track.

Layric turned to his wife. “Venla, people would not like this if they knew about such breaches.”

Venla gazed steadily at her husband. “People will not know, my husband. It is for me to lead this group, and for good or ill it is for me to make decisions.” Venla looked imploringly at her husband. “I know this does not sit easy with you Layric, but consider the situation. It was enough for us to keep the captives without Cahal and Jaden ridding us of them. The good people of this village will expect a band of travellers to appear to mend their wares, not to incite riot by dumping bandits on them. I feel Zya has a way about her, as does her father. They will smooth the way.” Venla leaned back in her seat.