In the Shadow of the Goddess (Book 1 of The Fallen Gods Trilogy)

CHAPTER FIVE

 Taking Brexten's cue, Jill fell silent. She cocked her head to the side, throwing herself into listening. For a long time, nothing. Then over the babbling stream, she caught it: the clomping of hooves. Her eyes widened. His narrowed with intensity.

"Should we hide or run away or..." Her voice faded when she saw Brexten had no intention of either hiding or running away. "I thought you said we needed to move."

"As I see it, we have two possibilities as to whom that may be and one of them I'd prefer not to think about," Brexten said, his voice low. "Pydia may be nearby and if so, we're in luck."

"What's—"

"A village on the edge of the Forest," he explained before she could get the question out. "I have friends there who will help."

Friends? Help? It sounded like a wonderful idea. Except, how did he plan to find out if they were friends or enemies? Grab them off their horses and wrestle them to the ground?

"Shouldn't we hide until we're sure?" she whispered, straining to glimpse the riders. She could hear them—louder now—but not see. She glanced to Brexten. He stood calmly without a care in the world and Jill had a sinking feeling in her stomach. "What are you going to do?"

"Meet them. I'm more than willing to challenge anyone for the sake of a bath."

Meet them? Is he kidding? Evidently not, for he turned in the direction of the sound and strode forward. Jill swallowed a yelp and followed.

Finally, she saw them. Five riders picked their way through the mist and thickening undergrowth. All were male dressed in shades of green and brown so they blended into the Forest backdrop.

Brexten stopped, his face giving nothing away. Jill waited at his side, glancing anxiously between him and the others. When one of the men pointed in their direction, she copied Brexten's pose as best she could, forcing herself to be still and unconcerned. The men urged their mounts toward them.

Their wait was extremely short. The first rider reined in abruptly. An older man, he looked close to sixty and sat tall in his saddle. Only his silvered brown hair and the lines around his mouth and eyes gave his age away. Beyond that, he radiated a quiet authority she knew Grandfather would envy.

The others waited as he dismounted, the closest to him taking up his reins. Then as they all paused, even Brexten, the man came to meet them. With all the grace and dignity in the world, he dropped to one knee and took Brexten's hands between his own.

"My lord Prince," the man said, his voice resonant and deferential. "So, you've finally returned and brought Arianie's blessing with you."

At that, the others also slipped from their mounts and down to one knee.

"Please, get up," Brexten said, sounding helpless. "You know I'm not worth this."

"Not so, my lord Prince." The man smiled as he rose. The others also stood, stepping closer. "It's good to see you again. It was believed you were dead."

"Impossible, though there were times when I dearly wished I was. I was trapped in the Maze."

The leader blinked, looking surprised. All the men did. "You mean the black marble? All this time and you were inside that monstrosity?"

"So it would seem."

"Goddess, no! When the marble appeared, we had no idea how to deal with it. We knew the sorcerers had done something but not what it meant. We tried to break our way in, but the marble was impenetrable. Then the Forest died, and everyone just stayed away. No more pilgrims. No more visitors. Pydia fell out of favor with the rest of the known world. The First Lord Shey'na'shen brought a dozen of his people here to run tests and determine the cause. But...Well." The man shrugged gracefully. "The answer was not quite what we'd hoped for."