A sneak peek…
An excerpt of my book I promised TearsTeenQueenOfMean
The climbers had spent a restful night and, as planned for each morning, rose early to begin the next portion of their trek. After breakfast, they began packing up their bedding and unpacking the equipment which would be needed for the day.
Devaleh, having done most of his preparation the night before, stood watching the activity around him with a sense of exhilaration. They were on the final part of the expedition now, and he was as eager to reach the summit as he was to have the journey done-so that he should return home to his lovely bride to be.
Considering the remainder of the trek, it was his belief that all would proceed smoothly, as long as the weather held. There seemed to be a threat of rain in the air, but as there where no storm clouds visible, he did not allow this to concern him greatly.
Glancing about now, he was pleased to see that everyone was nearly ready to go, and started forward, intending to gather the remainder of his gear, when something caught his attention. Bringing his gaze sharply around again, he took a closer look at Anomi and Kusta, who were arranging the cavasses. They were deep in conversation, yet this was not what had attracted his scrutiny.
It was, he decided after a moment, the manner in which they seemed to be…within one another’s space; without seeming to be aware of it. It was, to him, vaguely familiar. Much the way, he realized, that two…as though… He shook his head, banishing the thought as ridiculous. Still…
Before the idea could firmly take hold, however, the two came apart, and Kusta, looking around for a moment, spotted him and started in his direction. Upon reaching him, he stated with a touch of humor.
“At the pace that these people are moving, we shall be another day simply waiting for them to gather the equipment!” Forgetting his ideas of a moment ago, Devaleh laughed.
“Patience my friend! All is in order. Come; let us walk for a bit. I must do something with the energy which is building within me!”
“You were, I believe, just saying something about patience?” Kusta ribbed him lightly. Devaleh chuckled and patted him on the back.
“Touché” Devaleh grinned, “Come, a stroll will do us both well.” In truth, he desired to probe a bit further on what he believed he thought he had recognized.
Kusta nodded and turned to follow him as he set off toward the forest. Anomi looked askance, but at Devaleh’s shake of the head returned to what she was doing, knowing that he would be well with Kusta.
The two of them set off through the thickening woods, following one of the well traveled paths. Devaleh had a great deal of respect for the fact that this was, at base, an untamed land, and that caution was ever prudent.
Kusta, as he had for the entire journey, proved a worthy guide, pausing here and there to draw Devaleh’s attention to some particular sight he believed Devaleh would find interest in, or some sign of the wild life which inhabited the area. It was along this line then, that he suggested now,
“It occurs to me that Milord might care to view the Ancestors’ Peak. It is possible to see it from a point not far from where we are now, and it would not take long.” Devaleh nodded, his eyes alight with anticipation.
“I would indeed enjoy that, tremendously.” With a slight bow, he continued with a teasing tone, “Lead on, Old man! Lead on!”
Kusta started forward, with Devaleh a step behind. After they had walked in silence for several minutes, however, he came to a sudden decision. In a tone that was rather vague, he replied to Devaleh’s earlier teasing by saying,
“There is one, Lordship, who would disagree with you on the issue of my being so elderly.” Catching on quickly, Devaleh stopped in his step. More surprised by the fact that what he had seen was exactly as it had appeared than he was by Kusta’s news, he queried good-naturedly,
“Whom? Anomi?” Kusta nodded with a mixture of pride and sheepishness. “Good Man!” Devaleh exclaimed, pounding his back heartily. They resumed their walk as he went on, “I observed the two of you earlier, as you wrapped the cavasses. You seemed…mmm, quite…comfortable with one another. And, there has been none of the bickering which marked your chatter when I first arrived.”
Kusta grinned, recalling himself how he and Anomi had sniped at one another all this time, while they were yet unaware of their true feelings.
Briefly, he related the circumstances of her arrival at the Palace, a tale Devaleh had never heard before-one which gave him a new appreciation of how far the worthy Captain had come since then. Kusta also interspersed the tale with general anecdotes of the task it had been to get along with Anomi during her training, yet ended this with the same compliment he had given her privately.
“To my surprise, she turned out to be absolutely the best choice Tyelah could have made to lead her detail. She is dedicated, strong, apt, and thoughtful. An excellent leader, and an exceptional young woman.”
“I agree, my friend. Not to mention how relieving it feels to at last admit these things, yes?” Devaleh grinned. Kusta chuckled, saying in response,
“Aye, Milord, quite! Yet I declare, the woman does still drive me to distraction! I know not whether I go this way or that! Forward or back!” To this Devaleh laughed heartily.
“That, friend, is a state to which you had best become accustomed, for it shall never end!”
Sharing another laugh, they continued expounding on the tribulations men were destined to suffer of women and love. Shortly, Kusta gestured toward a small knoll just off the path. “The vista is just over this hill, Milord.” Eager now, Devaleh started forward ahead of him. Following him, Kusta had taken only a few steps when a sound caught his attention. Curious, he halted and turned about, seeking the source of it.
It was at that moment that he heard another, unmistakable in his experience as a woodsman - the whistle of an arrow. Calling out sharply to Devaleh, he raced after him. Just as Devaleh turned about.
Just as the arrow meant for him pierced Kusta’s back, sending the giant crashing to the ground.
Astonished, Devaleh stared with horror as Kusta fell to the ground, having heard the sound but unaware of the danger until he saw the arrow. He would later realize that by bending forward to check on Kusta, he had narrowly avoided being struck himself, as a second arrow whizzed through the space which he had occupied until that moment, past his ear, and thudded into a tree nearby even as he pitched himself prone upon the ground.
Someone was shooting arrows at them! And the nearest cover was several yards away . Prayerful that the archer, whatever his purpose, would be reluctant to remain in one place for very long, he decided that moving was a greater risk than remaining put, so for several minutes he stayed where they were. Yet Kusta was down, and he could not wait long to take action.
Deciding quickly, he bit his lip, took a calming breath, and moved - - -slowly. When no more arrows were forthcoming, he gripped Kusta, and with tremendous effort (and a new appreciation for the guard’s size!) half dragged, half carried, cajoled, pulled, and finally managed to move him to the relative safety of the trees. Once there, and more certain that the archer had gone, he stopped to assess the damage.
Kusta had been hit high up directly between his shoulder blades, and although the arrow had apparently been halted my the sheer mass of the man’s muscle, he was bleeding badly.
Devaleh, fighting to keep his wits about him, considered his options. There was no thought of leaving him in order to return to the camp for help. Yet, he did not have the skill necessary to remove the arrow without causing further damage. They could not remain here, however, until they were missed; Kusta would bleed to death. Thus, he felt he was left with only one choice.
He knelt to snap the arrow in two, then turned Kusta slightly so that he might attempt to lift him. The other man stirred awake. “No…Milord,” he rasped, his voice harsh with pain, “Leave me here. You must…return to safety. Warn…the camp.” Devaleh grunted as he managed to wedge himself beneath one arm.
“Nay, my friend. I shall not leave you. The archer may return. We must make it the camp, where the doctor’s apprentice will be able to help you.” With a strength that caught him off guard, Kusta gripped his forearm, saying urgently,
“Think man! I was not the intended target, Lordship. You must leave me! Return to safety. If I should die here, it will be with honor, as a Warrior.”
“Fool!” Devaleh growled in frustration “How shall I inform Anomi that I left her man to die alone in the forest? And how would I explain such to Tyelah? You. Shall. Not. Die! I am taking you to camp. And you must help me.” Kusta nodded weakly, his eyes filling with gratitude before they closed briefly. When they opened again, there was more determination in them as he spoke,
“Devaleh. On my belt…the shell.”
In his first panic, and then in his determined urgency to return to the camp, Devaleh had entirely forgotten the conch shell that each of the warriors carried. It was specifically to call for help in time of trouble, or to serve as a warning to the others. Right now, they needed both.
He took it from Kusta’s belt as the other said weakly, “Three short, one long, until they answer. They will seek your location with another.” then brought his eyes to meet Devaleh’s gaze, “Thank you…” before he succumbed to sleep. Devaleh, yet wondering if he should attempt to bring the guard back to camp himself, nevertheless lifted the conch to his mouth, blowing it as instructed; three short, sharp blasts followed by one long final bellow.
He repeated it, the conch’s lowing call echoing out over the summit of the other peak and down the mountainside. Once more he sounded the call for help.
To his immense relief, there soon came the call of another conch, then another. Aid was en route. Breathing an immense sigh of relief, he settled down to await the arrival of his troop, praying that they would not be long
In the camp, the call had, indeed, been heard.
Anomi, reading in the shelter of one of the massive trees as she awaited their return, lifted her head when the sound of the shell reached her ears. Why, she wondered briefly, was the conch being sounded? No one was in the forest except…
Alert immediately, and suddenly praying that she had misheard, (futile, she knew) she saw that the other members of the camp were also listening intently.
There, another call! Panic lending wings to her feet, she was away and bounding into the forest before the last even died away. Behind her, she could hear the horn sounded in answer, and the feet of the soldiers as they, too, ran to the path that Kusta and Devaleh had taken earlier.
None of it registered, as she had only two things in her focus at the moment. One, if something had happened to Devaleh, the Queen would have her head!
And two, trying desperately not to think of the fact that Kusta, with his massive strength, could easily have carried Devaleh back to camp if he were injured; for that line of thought lead to others she could not readily face.
She should have been with them, she then berated herself harshly, but hurriedly banished this line of thought at once. This was not the time.
Raising her fist - a signal to the others to halt - and, willing her thrumming heart to quiet, she listened intently, with her whole being, for any sign of the danger which the first two blasts had warned them to stay alert for. She listened for any sound which did not belong among the normal sounds of the forestland. She heard nothing - the animals themselves lent credence to something being wrong.
Then, grasping her own shell, she gave three sharp blasts, (where are you?) and again stilled, awaiting an answer. It came, one long, lowing note, pointing the direction in which they should go.
Now, she fanned her fingers outward, to instruct the warriors to spread out and commence a search. Though she knew not the nature of the call, urgency drove her onward. She strode through the forest toward the south, desperately seeking Devaleh and, she prayed, her own beloved Kusta. Gratefully, the call came moments later.
“Captain! Here!” She ran toward the sound of voice as Devaleh called out as well.
“Anomi!” He was coming towards her. She stopped short, looking askance at him, wanting to know and, of course, not wanting to.
He gave her a look filled with regret, then turned about. Following his gaze, her heart nearly ceased its beating altogether as her own eyes landed upon the fallen Kusta. The tears which welled in her eyes were the only outward sign of the heart-break within. Knowing her turmoil, Devaleh spoke to her softly.
“He is alive, Captain, but barely. I am sorry.” Realizing vaguely that Devaleh must know of what she and Kusta shared, her focus turned immediately to the task at hand. Kusta was alive, and it was of the utmost importance that he remain so.
Her training quickly took over, and she rushed to his side, removing from her waist-pack her canteen of water and a clean field dressing, repeating what Devaleh had done once she had assessed the wound and determined whether Kusta could be moved. Seemingly satisfied, yet obviously still deeply concerned, she turned now to the warriors and began issuing instructions in a cool, clipped tone-although she could not seem to stem the flow of her tears.
“Send a runner to base, tell them what has occurred, and have a rider depart for the Palace immediately ! You run back to camp and retrieve one of the cavasses. You two, begin searching for signs of whoever is responsible for this.” Her voice caught. The soldier to whom she had first spoken replied briskly,
“I have done so already, Captain!” she nodded.
“Good man. Then you may go with them. Find him!” To the others, “We depart for Hummingbird post haste!” She pointed to the other runner, who had been sent to her by the first and was standing, taking in the situation. “You will assist in the packing up.” He heard her, yet did not move at once, so stunned was he by the sight of Kusta-whom he had always viewed as nearly invincible-lain down and seemingly near to death. At his hesitation, Anomi barked harshly, “Move!”
Now, everyone sprang into motion, understanding the urgent need to get the arrow wound tended. The breaking of camp was already accomplished by the time they returned, and in a demanding hurry, they set out for base camp at the foot of the mountain.
chapter fourteen
Tyelah lifted her eyes from the painting she had begun the evening before, wondering at the worried look which was evident upon the young guard’s features. As she had given explicit instructions that she not be disturbed, she sensed immediately that something must be wrong, terribly wrong, to cause Kalee to ignore that directive. Therefore she asked, with a quiet that belied the quickening of her heart
“Yes, Kalee, what is it?” The young woman was decidedly concerned, and it showed in her voice as well as she answered,
“Milady, there is a runner, just arrived here. He states that the Caravan is in route to the Palace. There is a problem.” Swallowing around the sudden lump in her throat, Tyelah managed,
“A problem? Of what sort?”
“He did not say, Majesty. He bears a written message. Shall I allow him in?” Tyelah nodded, not trusting her voice. As Kalee turned away to fetch the runner, she tried once again to quell the sense of doom which had besieged her at the news that the caravan was returning, three days early. Horrid visions assailed her imagination-visions which she could, of course, quell with the simple connecting of her mind to either Kusta or Devaleh himself. But she did not. Could not. For if she should attempt such a connection and find nothing…it was simply too terrible to contemplate. Thus, she waited.
Moments later Kalee reentered the chamber, leading the runner, who crossed the room and fell to his knees at Tyelah’s feet. He held aloft a small, folded bit of parchment, saying urgently,
“A message from the Caravan, My Queen!” With fingers which trembled despite her best efforts to control them, Tyelah accepted the note, unfolding it with building trepidation. It was, to her horror, fully warranted.
“Oh my Goddess.” She whispered paling slightly as the words on the scrap settled into her reluctant Awareness “No, please no.” then closed her eyes, warning herself sternly that she must retain some measure of control. She must remain strong for her friend, for her beloved, and, for herself.
At last able to speak aloud, she told Kalee urgently, “Send word to your brother. A troop is to meet the caravan at all speed, then he is to await the arrival of the bearers and show them to the guest wing. I will have a room prepared. Do that first, and tell Jama’re is to come to me in the Imperial Court chamber afterward. Then, you, personally, are to lead another troop into the mountain to co-ordinate and assist the warriors who are there conducting a search, and return to me with the information on their progress.”
”Right away Highness!” came Kalee’s immediate reply, inwardly proud to be entrusted with such an assignment but knowing that there was no time for such indulgences. She bowed, prepared to depart, then paused. She knew that now was neither the appropriate time for questions, still, something within her drove a need to know what had occurred. To Tyelah, she asked hesitantly.
“Majesty, forgive my boldness, but what has happened? Does Milord Devaleh fare well?” To her surprise the Queen’s eyes moistened, and her voice was as weary as she had ever heard from anyone, as she answered softly,
“Lord Devaleh is unharmed. The Commander has been injured.” She was deliberately vague, not wishing to set rumors about. For the moment, she wished her entire focus to be upon the matter of getting Kusta the aid that he needed. Kalee nodded, and turned again to leave. Now, standing, Tyelah summoned a runner to fetch the Royal Doctor, then said to one of the maids who were close by.
“Have a room prepared in the Guest wing, and be certain that the Doctor will have all he requires at hand.” The girl, too, scampered away, and Tyelah continued on her way to the Court. As she rounded the ell in the corridor, one of the Guards approached her carefully. He had heard about the caravan, and did not wish to disturb her, yet he knew that she would desire the news he brought.
“My Queen.” He halted before her with a crisp salute. She paused in her step, irritation creasing her features as she asked,
“What is it, guard?”
“I have just received word from the search party in Mali. The deserter was found and captured several days ago. He is in Sheridan, and en route to the Palace.” At that particular moment, Tyelah did not care a whit about Dheriq, or his desertion. Still, on another level she was pleased to know that she would be able to question him, and find the truth of his attempt to run away from her Service. Not, however, at this moment!
“I have not the time for that one just now. I shall see to him later. Meanwhile, have him placed in the lower cells. In chains.” Acknowledging her command with a sharp nod, he turned about and strode away . Tyelah’s thoughts immediaely returned to her friend.
It was unfair, she lamented inwardly. Kusta had always been with her. Memories flitted her mind of the days they had spent together. Of the many times the two of them had ridden with her father, had played seek and find in the hidden corridors of the castle. Had drilled in the secret garden. She thought of the many scrapes he had tended when she -uncaring and unafraid- had attempted to do something against which she had been explicitly warned. She had not known fear then, yet, she was afraid now.
Kusta could not die. He simply could not!
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