The Ruby Guardian

CHAPTER 14

Vambran sat peering through the bars of the cage, watching the druids at work on the rock shelf beyond. The five other soldiers imprisoned with him lounged quietly, some of them sleeping. None of them were fettered any longer, having worked together to remove the rope bonds around wrists and ankles. The hardwood saplings holding them in place within the shallow cave were another matter.

"You are a long way from home, mercenary," the woman with the piercing green eyes said, approaching the cave and looking through the bars at Vambran. "We do not see many of the Order of the Sapphire Crescent here."

Vambran returned her stare curiously. "I'm surprised that you know of our order," he replied. "Though we are not here by choice in any event."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "Truly?" she said, sounding skeptical. "Do not all men come here to the shadows of the Nunwood to fight their fights for others? Do the idle rich of the cities not pay you to wage their wars for them out here, where the killing won't stain their precious cities with so much blood?"

Vambran began to shake his head. "Many do, but the Crescents do not."

"You are a soldier," she said, "and you fight at the direction of others. Reth or Hlath, Arrabar or more distant cities, it is always the same."

Vambran gave the woman a level look. "If you're so convinced that we're all alike, then why did your people bring us here, rather than simply kill us where they found us?"

"I have asked myself that question, too," the woman said, giving Vambran a peculiar smile that was a little unnerving. "Edilus thought perhaps that you could be ransomed for prisoners held by the enemy army. He saw the value in holding you, with your three dots."

Vambran blinked, having nearly forgotten that he bore the three symbols of reading, writing, and magic upon his forehead. "He thought I would be valuable to the enemy," the lieutenant reasoned.

"Yes. I told him that we would not negotiate with the mercenaries, that the Emerald Enclave did not parlay. Those of our order who are taken are considered dead and grieved for. He was not happy with my decision."

"Why?"

"Because his brother was among those taken," the woman replied. "I told him we would avenge his brother by spilling the blood of many soldiers again tonight."

Those words were uttered with such force, such finality, that for a moment, Vambran could only stare at the woman across from him. Her intensely emerald eyes blazed with a primal fire, and he knew beyond a doubt she meant every bit of it.

Vambran was going to try, anyway. "It doesn't have to be that way," he said, hoping she would see his own earnestness as sincere. "I can help you find a more peaceful solution. My soldiers and I have no quarrel with the Emerald Enclave. Indeed, we work toward similar goals. If you resign us to this cage, then a resource you have at your disposal will be wasted."

The woman laughed, but it was a bitter laughter, without mirth. "A resource. I would expect nothing less from a priest of the Merchant's Friend. The world simply is, it exists. 'Resource' is but a word your kind uses to measure what you wish to make your own. I do not acknowledge your notion of resources. Here, in the woods, everything belongs to all beings, and no one takes more than he needs right then, right there. I drink from the stream, yet there is still plenty of water for others, both downstream from me and those who would come later to the same spot I did to drink. The stream, the water, is not a resource; it dwells as an integral part of nature. You and your resources are laughable."

Vambran's jaw clenched in anger and frustration. "And you and your ilk seem so determined to belittle others' ways of life, though not all who walk a different world than yours subvert your ideals so robustly," he said, raising his voice at the woman. She blinked and sat back ever so slightly. Vambran doubted she had been spoken to in such a manner in a very long time. "I was born and raised in a city of merchants, and it is the life I know. To expect me to abandon all that I was groomed for because you see your way of life as superior to mine is both short-sighted and arrogant.

"I would not presume to tell you that you should leave the woods behind forever and come dwell in the city. It is not your element. You, having most likely never been to Arrabar, would not be at ease there. You would not be able to find your way from street to street. The first cart vendor you came upon would most likely rob you blind and convince you it was a bargain. But these shortcomings do not make me a better person than you. I would not see myself as superior because I better understand the life I lead than you do. Why must you view me that way? Our paths may be different, but our values are not necessarily so separated. Though I may not care and nourish the forest as the Enclave does, that does not mean I cannot appreciate the work that you do, that I cannot value your ideals."

The woman sat and stared at Vambran for a long time. All around the great platform, no one said a thing; indeed, none of the other wood folk present were doing anything at all. They had all stopped their work at the mercenary's outburst. Vambran wondered if that was because of the passion in his words or because they were awestruck that he had the audacity to challenge the woman so.

At that moment, the pair's conversation was interrupted by a messenger arriving atop the platform. The woman turned away from the cage and moved to the new arrival. Together, they squatted down near the fire and began to converse in low voices.

Vambran turned and looked at the other five mercenaries. "I keep thinking that she looks familiar. But I've never been in the Nunwood before."

"Aye," Adyan drawled, "I was thinking the same thing. Can't quite place it, though. Do you suppose we've fought against her before?"

"I remember her face, too, but I don't think it was on the field of battle," Horial added. "But if we all three think we know her, then there's something to it."

Vambran started to nod, but before he got the words out, a disembodied voice began to speak to him. Vambran, are you alive? It was Emriana. Something's happened to Xaphira and Hetta, and Grozier has taken over the House. Please answer me, Vam. You can't be dead!

At his sister's startling revelation, Vambran rocked upright, stunned. He found it difficult to breathe. Shaking his head, he formulated an answer.

It's all right, Em. It's a lie. Uncle Kovrim and I are still alive. I'll come to you as soon as I can. Be safe.

He felt the connection break off at that point, and he wanted to shout at the top of his lungs in frustration. There was so much he needed to tell his sister.

"Emriana's in trouble," he said to the confused faces gathered around him. "Something's happened at home." He wanted to pound his fist against the stone wall of the shallow cave. "Grozier Talricci is in control, and Xaphira and Hetta-" and he stopped himself, feeling his throat constrict in sorrow and worry. "I have to get back to them," he said. "Em needs me." Then he closed his eyes in anguish. "But so do the men. I've got to get out of here!" he snarled, grabbing at the bars and shaking them.

A shadow fell across Vambran's eyes, and he looked up to find the woman standing over him, on the other side of the bars. Behind her, the camp had sprung to life, bustling with activity. He did not understand the portent of that, but he did not care. He had to get out. The lieutenant began to speak, to plead for his release so that he could save both his family and his followers, but he snapped his mouth shut again without uttering a word when he saw the look on the woman's face.

There was a very dangerous glint in her eyes.

She looked at Vambran and the others coldly as she said, "Soldiers have slain nearly every member of our order that they captured. They have bloodied the Emerald Enclave, asking for war. Now they will have it. And they will get more than they ever bargained for." She turned to go.

"Wait," Vambran said, willing her to reconsider. "My offer stands. Let us help you."

The woman turned back, rage clear on her face. "Rot in there," she said with a growl. "The Enclave does not negotiate."

"Vambran's alive!" Emriana practically shouted. "He answered me!" For the first time that day, she actually smiled. It felt good, knowing that at least part of what Grozier Talricci had told her was a lie. Her conversation with Vambran had given Emriana more relief than she could have imagined, and she began to feel some sense of hope again.

I told you not to believe Talricci's lies, Hetta said, warmth beaming from the presence inside Emriana. Your brother can take care of himself. I didn't raise foolish grandchildren, or children either, for that matter.

I know, Emriana thought back. And I thank you for that gift. But it seems sometimes like the entire city is against us.

Yes, Hetta said. Your news of the Grand Syndar is troubling, to say the least. Big things are afoot, that is certain. Now, we must hurry. We still have resources we can draw on, ourselves, but there is no time to waste.

First things first, Grandmother, Emriana responded. I'm not beyond Grozier's reach, yet, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let him fool me again.

Hearing her own words, Emriana felt as though she had aged several years in the course of a single night. She had a debt to pay, to Grozier Talricci and everyone working with him. Still, the girl was homeless at the moment, with nothing more than what she carried on her person. She needed to get to the Darowdryn estate, but she couldn't show up on their doorstep looking and smelling as she did. She had to find a place to clean herself up.

Emriana stepped back out of the alley where she had retreated in order to employ the pendant. She peered in both directions along the street, searching for any signs that Grozier had had her followed. She had no doubt that the man intended to remove her from his life once and for all, whether she had chosen to stay at the estate and obey his wishes or not.

No one walking the avenue seemed the least bit interested in the bedraggled girl, but she waited a moment longer, watching the doorways and rooftops. Memories of the previous evening were still fresh in her mind. She half hoped that she would run into Lak and the other man again.

They won't catch me off guard a second time, she vowed.

She didn't see anything untoward after a few careful minutes of watching, so she turned and headed away from the only home she'd ever known, cutting across the wide street and heading downtown, in the direction of the harbor. She knew the Darowdryn estate was several lanes to the north, but she wanted to find an inn first, a place where she could procure a bath.

Explain to me again how you managed to survive your own demise, Emriana requested of her grandmother as she walked. What is this ring?

I had it made shortly after your grandfather died, Hetta began. Though I was able to carry on the family enterprises ably after his passing, I wasn't so sure that any of my children were yet prepared to take over, should I also die. It wasn't that I was worried that, without my guidance, they would let things fall to ruin. But I did fear that none of them knew every nuance of the business-where to find things, which business partners were truly trustworthy, that sort of thing. I wasn't trying to stay around past my allotted time on this world, but I didn't want to leave unexpectedly without making sure someone knew how to pick up the pieces.

Emriana was impressed with her grandmother's thoroughness. But then the girl realized that the matriarch's presence in the ring seemed to be a permanent thing. The thought saddened her all over again, even though Hetta's spirit was right there with her. She said as much.

There are ways to return to my body, Hetta said, though there is a limit to how much time can pass and what condition it was in when I left it. I doubt very much that it will be possible to achieve, given the state of things back home.

How can you say that so calmly? Emriana wailed. I don't want to lose you!

Child, all things come to an end. But that's a parting for another time. Right now, we've got urgent things to attend to, and I'm not going anywhere until they're dealt with. So stop fretting.

Emriana wiped the tears that had begun to form in the corners of her eyes and nodded. All right, she promised. I'll try.

By that point, the girl had neared the lane where the inn she had selected sat. The thought of a hot bath and clean clothes quickened her steps, so she almost didn't notice the figure stepping out of the alley just ahead, blocking her way. The man paused, facing her, and Emriana took three more steps before she realized it was Lak. She skidded to a sudden stop, her heart pounding.

Damn it, damn it, damn it! the girl thought, berating herself for letting her watchfulness flag.

The skinny man made no move to advance toward her, but he gave her a slight, knowing smile as he folded his arms across his chest. Emriana looked back over her shoulder, confirming what she already feared; that the bear of a man, Lak's companion, was there, perhaps twenty paces back. He had paused as well and was leaning against the stone wall of the building, watching her with a scowl on his face.

Emriana tried to calm her breathing. All of her previous thoughts of bravado faded away at the reality of facing the two men who had tried to kill her the night before. Her daggers were packed inside the box, which was inside her satchel. There was no way she could dig them out in time.

Don't panic! the girl insisted to herself. They won't jump you in the middle of the street like this. They're waiting until no one is around. Keep moving, she told herself. Find a crowd.

The girl turned to cross the street, thinking to head directly away from either of her pursuers, even though that would take her farther from the inn. On the opposite side, she spotted the woman with the short blonde hair, the one who had impersonated Xaphira.

Groaning, Emriana cut across at an angle, watching as the woman began to match her pace, strolling on the far side. Lak did likewise, crossing the street with her, gradually closing the distance. She didn't bother to turn around to see if bear-man was doing the same-she knew they were keeping her surrounded, biding their time.

Where in the nine hells is the watch when you need it? Emriana fumed, beginning to angle back the other way. She noticed that there were fewer people on the street right then, a fact that seemed to embolden the three pursuing her, for they drew ever closer, still surrounding her position.

Drawing a deep breath, Emriana changed course again, then darted back the other way, breaking into a sprint, dashing past the surprised Lak. He lunged for her, a bold move considering they were not completely alone on the street, but the girl managed to evade his grasp and scoot past him, charging ahead to the next intersection. Emriana whipped around the corner and kept going, all thoughts of the inn and a bath forgotten.

I have to find someplace safe, where they can't get to me, she thought. Grandmother, what do I do?

Run, child. To the Darowdryns. They'll protect you. Hurry!

Emriana mentally nodded as she sprinted in that direction, heading toward the massive estate of the old friends of the Matrell family. Her breath came in ragged gasps, as much a result of her terror as of tiring. At the next intersection, there were more folks out walking, and she slowed to avoid colliding with anyone. The thought flashed through her head that, given her bedraggled state, someone might think she was a thief fleeing the law.

Emriana risked a quick glance back to see if she was still being pursued. She spotted Lak, his short legs churning, closing the distance. Behind him, bear-man lumbered along, not as swift as his partner. The woman was not in sight, but Emriana had a pretty good idea that she was using the rooftops to track her quarry.

It's what I would do, the girl thought, turning and fleeing once more, heedless of the distasteful stares directed her way by passersby.

As she neared the Darowdryn estate, Emriana realized the one flaw in her plan. That section of the city was the providence of the very wealthy, and their homes were huge, sprawling affairs that covered several blocks. Few other people had cause to go there, which meant that the lanes meandering between the high walls delineating the various properties would most likely be empty. Unless Emriana could outdistance her would-be captors, they would have no witnesses to hinder their efforts.

It was a chance she would have to take, for to turn back would mean heading straight into their arms.

And still no watch, she thought, wishing a squad would see her running and try to accost her for her suspicious appearance. What better way to get rid of those three?

She was only a short distance from the front gate of the Darowdryn estate when the woman in the purple pants and magenta vest appeared in front of Emriana. The girl knew the woman had used magic to cut her off, and she didn't have to turn around to know that Lak and bear-man weren't far behind. They had her cornered.

"Not much room to move," the woman said, strolling toward Emriana. "You're a slippery little minx, I'll give you that," she added, pulling something from a pouch at her belt. "But your luck's run out, I think."

"Don't bet on it," Emriana said, eyeing her pursuer. "You haven't caught me, yet." She had no idea why such bold words were coming out of her mouth; she was terrified.

"A trivial matter," the woman said, smiling as she drew closer. The smile was not warm. "Think fast," she added, gesturing with both hands.

Emriana did not wait to see what arcane attack erupted from her foe. She turned and sprinted toward the wall of the estate, leaping as high as she could at the last moment. She could not reach the top of the wall, which was more than a full story high, but she had spotted a protruding stone in the work that she just might be able to grab hold of. It was her only chance.

As the girl sailed through the air, a trio of glowing darts shot forth from the fair-haired caster, whistling as they passed through the point where Emriana had been a moment before. She grimaced as she hit the wall and slipped the tips of her fingers over the protruding stone, knowing that the three missiles would double back on her.

She managed to claim a sufficient hold on the wall then hung there helplessly as the three magical darts slammed into her back. The pain from those horrid, burning missiles made her gasp, and she nearly lost her hold as she jerked, tears brimming.

"Bitch," she sobbed.

There was a sudden, soothing coolness flowing through Emriana then, and the pain receded sufficiently that she could concentrate once more on scaling the wall.

Hurry, child, Hetta's voice commanded, though it sounded weak and weary. I can't do that for you again.

Thank you, Emriana thought. She began to clamber higher, reaching the top a moment before Lak arrived down below then she pulled herself into a sitting position and glanced back.

"Get back down here!" the diminutive man growled, obviously frustrated. He eyed the wall, looking as though he was going to try to follow, but Emriana's attention was still focused on the female. She began to cast again.

Emriana rolled backward, slipping down the inside of the wall, evading whatever spell had been intended for her.

The girl found herself in a thicket, mostly underbrush and vines, but she could see open field just a little toward the interior of the estate. Behind her, muffled by the wall, she could make out the sounds of people arguing, and she did not want to wait around to see if the trio of pursuers maintained the chase. She pushed through the foliage and into the field beyond, which stretched for quite a distance toward the main house, easily seen atop a central hill.

Perhaps a hundred paces away, a contingent of mounted soldiers were headed straight toward her. They had weapons out.

There was a crash behind Emriana, and she turned back in time to see Lak dropping to the ground at the base of the wall. He rolled to his feet as the woman settled easily to the ground beside him. Both of them began to advance on her.

Run to the soldiers! Hetta insisted. They will know your name and protect you. Go now!

Without hesitating, Emriana darted into the open, running with the last reserves of her energy right toward the soldiers, all but one of whom wore red, black, and gold livery. The one exception was an immense man sitting atop a huge destrier, both he and his horse sheathed in polished mail from head to toe. He brought up the rear, his mount laboring to keep up with the smaller, faster horses of the House guards. Behind Emriana, she could hear a hiss of vexation, but she didn't bother turning around to see if anyone followed. Her eyes were focused on those weapons before her, bearing down on her position.

"I yield!" she cried out, keeping her hands in the air as she ran. When she was only a few strides away, she stumbled and knelt in the grass, holding her hands high and to either side. "I yield," she repeated, thoroughly spent.

The soldiers encircled her on their horses, leveling spears at her head or aiming crossbows from the saddle. Emriana flinched, but otherwise all she could do was pant in exhaustion.

"You are trespassing, girl," one of the guards said, eyeing her. "We normally flog for that offense."

"Please," Emriana said, looking fearfully at the guard. "I must speak with Ariskrit Darowdryn. She will know me."

The soldier snorted in derision. "I seriously doubt that," he said. "Lady Darowdryn values her privacy very much, so you can just turn around and hop back over the wall."

"Please!" Emriana repeated. "I promise that I am not lying to you! My name is Emriana Matrell, granddaughter of Hetta Matrell, and I must see the lady!"

The soldier was shaking his head, obviously unwavering in his resolve to keep riffraff away from the lords and ladies of the manor, when the huge mounted knight arrived. He threw a leg over the saddle and slid to the ground, huffing and puffing. The guard leader turned and saluted. "She claims to know Lady Darowdryn, m'lord, but she is obviously just a common street rat, looking for a handout. I was about to give her a chance to bolt, but she is pushing her luck."

The huge man strode past the soldier, staring straight at Emriana, slipping his gloves off his hands before removing his helmet. Great white mustaches settled down past his chin as he gazed intently at the girl kneeling before him. It was Tharlgarl "Steel-fists" Darowdryn.

"Em?" the man said. "Emriana Matrell?" He turned and waved away the soldiers. "She speaks the truth. Let her up."

Immediately, the contingent of guards withdrew their weapons and allowed Emriana to rise. She did so on shaky legs, feeling a rush of emotions coursing through her as she approached the man.

"I–I was afraid you wouldn't remember me," the girl said, greatly relieved. "I hoped, but I wasn't sure."

"Goodness, but you're a mess," Tharlgarl said, holding out a hand to help steady her.

The dam of emotions broke then, and tears flooded Emriana's eyes. She tumbled into the huge man's arms, hugging him tightly.

He wrapped his steel-clad arms around her gently and let her cry. "Easy," he said, over and over again. It felt so good to the girl that she stayed there for a long time. When she had regained her composure, Emriana pulled back and drew a filthy sleeve across her face. She sniffed once and looked at Steelfists.

"I've had the worst day," she began.