Just Before Dawn Read online

  Like Blood for the Road

  The Road was without barricade along either side and the grass that ran up the slope to its slightly curved surface was without blemish or mark other than those nature had made. Spring had passed and now Summer was high in bloom, yet The Road was quiet. As far north as he could see Fadhe marked nothing that would hint that the uplanders were planning a strike. He and his karl had been scouting The Road for two days, had in fact traveled the whole length of it, and nothing was even remotely threatening from the northern side. Fadhe didn't like it.

  Fadhe hunkered down in the middle of The Road, lowering his hand to the dirt to feel tracks long turned to ruts. “Never have I seen a Summer come without the uplanders coming with it,” Fadhe said to his karl who scanned the distance with a single hand over his brow to block the glare of the sun. “We've owned The Road for six summers,” said the karl, a man of few words and little patience. Fadhe smiled at him and said, “True, but my grandsire said that his grandsire told him of a whole generation where the uplanders controlled The Road. Then we took it back for almost another generation.”

  “Things change,” the karl said without emotion.

  “Not always for the better, Stahl, not always.” Stahl grunted and continued to watch his master as the younger man crossed The Road and made his way down the gentle slope. There Fadhe moved around for a while, occasionally ducking down to look at something in the grass, or pluck it from the brush. After half an hour Fadhe went back to the road, wiping the sweat from his brow as he went. “By Adun it's hot this summer!” Fadhe exclaimed. Stahl, like always, wasn't moved by his young master's plight. Instead he muttered, “The rannese say there are no gods.”

  “Don't dare speak such,” chastised Fadhe. “The rannese are pagans; brilliant pagans but pagans nonetheless, therefore they are damned.” Stahl merely shrugged and continued his vigil. His silence irritated Fadhe, as it often did, but what was Fadhe to do? There were few that could fight like Stahl, and fewer still that were willing to put their blood under the will of an etKral as young as he. Stahl, however, respected Fadhe's father, the Kral of Adheskral, and the leader of the Salgara. The other six enKrals turned to Radhe for guidance, strength and justice, and the youngest son of the most powerful man was not very well looked upon. For one thing he had spent three summers with the nomads to the south, and for another he spoke ranese, the eastern tongue and much of the uplander's tongue as well. Fadhe's brothers, all ten of them, had died fighting for The Road and now Fadhe was in position to become Kral when his father went left this realm for Adun's. If he did not prove himself soon then the Salgara would probably war break into civil war and the Valgara would be able to take advantage of them with ease.

  Fadhe rubbed at his temples with both hands while he thought. “I want the Thorn Wall moved to the north side of The Road,” he said after a few moments. Stahl blanched, his face showing shock and something else Fadhe couldn't quite place. Perhaps it was hidden approval. “We cannot do that,” said Stahl, though it seemed more a question than a direct statement. Fadhe nodded understanding but said, “I know. But I'd rather raise the ire of my father a bit than risk being caught unawares by the uplanders.”

  “That will mean almost another mile of wall,” said Stahl.

  “Then it means another mile of wall.”

  “Maybe as many as five miles.”

  Fadhe simply looked at the karl as if he hadn't spoken and Stahl got the hint.

  Stahl nodded and said, “Then we should head back to Adheskral and set the men to work.”

  “No,” said Fadhe turning around and looking to the southwest. “Etterskral, then Fenterskral, then to Adheskral.”

  Stahl raised his eyebrows but said nothing. Fadhe smiled and said, “I know it will make Anto and Jin grumpy, but sooner or later they are going to have to answer to me. It's better they learn to now.” Stahl laughed, but wisely remained quiet. Fadhe took in a deep breath and set off to the southeast at a run, and Stahl followed.

  They reached Etterskral just after sunset and camped a good mile or so outside the town for the night. Custom dictated that all journeys were done by nightfall; none in the town would welcome a traveler after dark for it was said that wanderers in the night were under the realm of Geghti, Adun's twin and divine opposite. The young etKral and his karl made a rough camp and slept under the stars, their overshirts their pillows and the earth itself as their bed. The moon was quickly up, peering down at the two warriors from behind the drifting curtain of clouds, and the men fell to sleep without worry. Their fire popped and crackled, the mournful howl of a wolf sounded from the east, and the men dreamed.

  Just before the sun lit up the east Fadhe bolted up from the ground ready to fight. Sweat covered him from head to toe and he could feel the terror speeding his heart beat to the pace of war drums. It was a few seconds before he realized his dream had so terrified him and it took another few for him to realize that Stahl was awake, weapon drawn, looking at his master with the most strange expression. The question was not spoken, but Fadhe felt it anyway. “I am fine,” he said, running his hand over his hair to try to smooth its wild appearance, “it was a dream, nothing more.”

  Stahl spit and crossed his fingers to ward off evil. “Geghti moves to make you fear,” Stahl said quietly.

  Fadhe shook his head and gave his karl a distracted, but acidic, smile. “If so, then I am a fool. If not...” he let the words die on his lips. The morning activities had begun in Etterskral and Fadhe was eager to get going. He pushed the dream aside, for now, and began to ready himself for the road once more. Stahl shook his head and did the same, but every now and then he would look at his master, cross his fingers, and mutter for Adun to protect them.

  Etterskral was one of the smaller towns of Salgara being only several hundred people strong. The men all wore their hair in braids, were of light skin and dark hair, and most of them had green or hazel eyes. Fadhe looked nothing like them even though the man he was off to see was his uncle. He was long of limb and light of skin, but his hair was gold and his eyes were blue. He also wore his hair loose over his neck and back, for the men of Adheskral did not cut their hair, and had strips of dyed leather woven into some of the higher strands. Each town had their ways, for each one believed they were descended from one of Adun's seven sons. Just as he was different from those of Etterskral the men of Fenterskral were bald and hale of skin, those of Kaininskral were short, broad and light, Jancenskral were tall, dark and usually red of hair, Toninskral were lighter of body and had hair that curled, and Devinskral had the darkest skinned, darkest haired of all. It was not unheard of for Blood-Cousins, those who fit the description of one town born to another, to be sent to live in another of the settlements at a young age, for those of Salgara were superstitious and set in their beliefs. Each believed themselves to be descended from the most pure of the sons of Adun, though since Adhe had been first born they too followed the lead of Adheskral.

  As Fadhe entered the bounds of the town the people that were outside marked his passing with only casual glances. He had not been here frequently enough to be of any note, but his dressed marked him as an Adhe, and they made sure to stay from his path. To Stahl they gave mixed looks. Stahl, with his bald head and heavy mustache made quite a sight, especially because of the loose collar of braided, blackened metal around his neck. It is the mark of his binding to Fadhe. Were Fadhe Kral then there would likely be twenty, or more, men bound to him with such collars. They would come from all the towns, and they would willingly die for him without a second thought.

  It took a few moments longer than it had for him to pass a few of the smaller homes before two warrios of the Fenter came and blocked his path. As always the relationships between the towns were testy. It was only the common enemy of the Valgara that had kept them from war amongst themselves, an idea that made Fadhe sick to his stomach. “Where are you going, Adhe?” asked the larger of the two warriors. Fadhe had known it would be like this, as had Stahl, but som
ehow experiencing it made him more angry than he thought he would be.

  “I come to ask aid of Kral Anto, though why I need give my reasons to you I am still unclear.”

  The warriors moved to strike Fadhe, but as their bodies came forward so did Stahl's. It was over before it began, for both warriors were soon on the floor, their blows thrown wide and surprise stamped on their face. One bled from his lip, the other from his nose. They looked up at Stahl with murder in their eyes, but Stahl quickly squashed any retribution as he said, “Show respect to etKral Fadhe Radheson or you will receive nothing but more of the same.” The men sputtered in surprise, but that was all that could be got from them. Before they could even stand a woman of the town came up to Fadhe and Stahl saying, “I will take you to Kral Anto's home.” Fadhe smiled at her, gave her a little bow, and followed her down the road, the fallen warriors left behind in the dirt of the road.

  The home of Anto Deterson, Kral of Fenterskral, was low but long with very few windows. Smoke billowed from three chimneys even though the morning had barely come and people flowed from doors in the rear at a steady pace. Fadhe and Stahl were quickly led inside to where almost a dozen people were eating around a firepit set into the ground. Cushions and blankets covered the floor and a stool of wood and fur governed over all. On it sat a wrinkled, shriveled old man that was aged somewhere between ninety and a hundred and ten summers depending on who told the tail. His wispy gray hair was tied as best as could be managed in a braid that sat on the nape of his neck like a trophy. He sat being fed by one of the ladies of his home and looked at the newcomers with curiosity.

  “So,” the old man said, brushing away the attempt of his lady to feed him, “you think you can come here and just manhandle my warriors whenever you like?” Kral Anto smiled at the look on Fadhe's face and he continued without much of a pause. “My ears are long, child, and though they should not have treated you thus you still caused me grief.”

  “Well then,” said Fadhe to break the old man's momentum before he got going into a full speech, “I will cause you more grief still: I need all the warriors under my father's rule to go to the Thorn Wall and begin moving it.”

  “Moving it?” the old man asked in surprise. “Where to?”

  “The other side of The Road, at least a mile, perhaps as many as five, north of where we now hold.”

  “Outrageous!” shouted Anto, the old man leaping to his feet and pulling a long knife that had been hidden in his stool. “To do that would be to declare war before we must! The uplanders know we have a strong position; they will not come this year. Not after what we did to them last year and the year before that!”

  “To trust in a prior victory is foolish. Each day, each choice made is like the sand on the side of a dune,” said Fadhe. “Who knows what could cause it to shift, to tumble or to grow? No one. We beat them last year; this year we may be the ones to find ourselves buried under the dross of war. I will not let that happen.” Stahl stepped up behind his master, one hand on his sword, and scowled at the warriors who had entered the room after Kral Anto's outburst.

  “What reason do you have to think that the uplanders will come? What do the scouts say?” asked the canny old man. Fadhe knew as well as he did that the scouts had been reporting nothing but empty fields since before spring had come. The uplanders had been quiet, as they had in times before when they would not dare strike from a position of weakness. Fadhe knew this; but he was not convinced.

  “They will come in a month's time,” said Fadhe without a hint of reservation. At his words the assembled folk began to murmur in surprise and anger. None of them matched the redness in Anto's face, nor the look of murder in his eyes.

  “And you know this because of what? Do you speak to them in their vile tongue, oh etKral so young. Do you speak to the wind or the earth? No, you do not. You will not have my warriors! Get this fool from my sight!” the old Kral shouted and his warriors moved, hands on their weapons, to expel the young heir to the valley and his servant.

  “I dreamed it!” shouted Fadhe as the warriors grabbed him by the arms, “I dreamed it last night, as I have many nights before!”

  The room went silent. Anto sputtered once or twice before slowing his thoughts and composing himself a little better. He ran a hand over his pate slowly, watching the young etKral with more than a little worry. “You would come to me and ask for my warriors by citing a work of Geghti as your evidence? Are you mad?” Anto said in little more than a hoarse whisper.

  “It came to me as a sign from Adun, Geghti be damned!” Fadhe retorted.

  “Dreams are deceptive and tricky, filled with signs and portents that do nothing but make the blade hand waver and the strong man foolish!”

  “Yet Adun is the creator, the weaver of all. Geghti sprung from his songs because of the way men interpreted Adun's words and fought with one another. Geghti may be of dreams, but Adun ruled them first. I say it is a sign!”

  The little room burst with talk as the people with in debated, loudly, what they were hearing. Even Stahl, who believed his master to be one of the most brilliant people he had ever known, looked at Fadhe with a mix of fear and wonder. No one knew what he was trying to do. “So be it,” said Anto, and as if he had shouted the room looked to him in wondering silence. “If he says it is a sign, let the Bride prove his claim. If it false, and from Geghti...” he let the words die. All knew what would happen if the Bride came out and called Fadhe false; even being the son of the Kral of all Salgara would do him little good. Still Fadhe relented, nodding his agreement with a look of determined purpose never wavering on his face.

  A short while later the entrance to the old Kral's home was filled with people as they crowded together to catch a brief glimpse of the Bride of Adun. There were only four of them in all the valley, the priestesses of Adun that were caught somewhere between ordinary mortals and Adun himself. They were seldom seen but their word was law; all the Krals obeyed them if they issued a command, and even their suggestions were weighted with Adun's words behind them. Young girls often were taken from their homes at a young age to be the tenders for these women and, occasionally, one would take the place of an elder upon her death. There used to be a council of twenty of the venerable women, but times had grown soft, and the need of them had lessened. Fewer tended the Brides; fewer were found to take the place of the dying elders. Fadhe had expected a woman of many years, what entered the door dumbfounded him.

  A line of women, ranging from around nine years to much later in life, walked in at a slow pace, heads bowed in a play of modesty. All wore heavy robes cinched around their waist and had flowers of yellow and purple tied into their hair, which was laid loose to lay over shoulders and back in a flow of colors from brown in some to bright red in others. After them came the Bride, and the collective breath of all in the house was held in a mix of wonder, respect and fear. She was not very tall, thin and slight of limb, but in her stride there was a power that Fadhe could not name. A body as slim as a willow's walked with a gait that heated Fadhe's blood to boiling for she was covered with naught but what seemed like a mesh of light blue so fine that it barely could be said to cover her at all. It was a young body; but full hips were like an exclamation mark on her body and Fadhe found himself wanting her. Her chest was not small, nor large, but Fadhe marked her as perfect in form. Auburn hair flowed loose down to her hips, and white lilies were tied within, swishing with each step in a song to Adun. He desperately wanted to see her face but could not, for alone among the procession she wore a mask of beaten copper that depicted a mournful woman of unsurpassed beauty. The room grew still as she came to a halt, and even Anto seemed hard pressed to find his words. Luckily, he didn't have to.

  “From whence do I hear such lovely music?” asked the Bride, her voice itself a song. Anto looked dumbfounded and could not answer. The Bride cast her gaze about until she looked upon Fadhe, still held by some of Anto's men. There came from her a sharp intake from breath and she hurried across the spac
e between she and Fadhe. She stopped before him and brought her hands up, stopping them less than an inch above his flesh. She muttered as her hands flew over his body, as if searching, her fingers a blur as they probed without ever touching him. Finally she stopped, her hands over his face, and she looked up at him. Their eyes met and Fadhe feared he would never again be able to catch his breath as he looked into her honey colored eyes. Finally she pulled away from him and turned back to Anto. “I was called here because of a dream,” she said softly, though there was iron in her tone. Anto nodded but said nothing. “Dreams,” she said, though it seemed directed at no one in particular. “Tell me your dream,” she demanded of Fadhe.

  Fadhe told her.

  “I dreamed I looked down as if from on high into a small valley. Within the valley a great snake of stone lay stuck, for he had long gorged himself on rabbits and mice and could not move. Then, from the north came the cry of eagles. I looked and saw a great host of eagles, each made of ice and stone. They fell upon the snake, their claws striking its stone flesh and ripping it in great, jagged wounds. Then, as the eagles pulled away out from under the ground came foxes of earth and grass. They too tore at the snake, and it cried out in pain for someone to help it. Finally, from the south, came a bear great in size. Terrible was its fury, and it slew the foxes and drove away the eagles, letting the snake be at peace as it tended to its wounds. The bear roared its challenge, for it was a great bear like none in all the world and I awoke.” Silence followed the end of his dream, and even Anto looked unsure for the first time since Fadhe arrived.

  “Dreams,” the Bride repeated, her voice fading to nothing as she looked around the filled room. “There is change upon us,” she hissed in a low voice, “change like fire!” Then she laughed and all around her were filled with joy. “This one,” she said pointing to Fadhe, “speaks the will of Adun. Heed him, and the fire will only scorch those who wish us death. Ignore his words,” and she spread her hand wide and shook them. All understood what she meant: ignore him and it would be a disaster.