Ghost Fields - Book One of The Fields of Mendhavai Trilogy

Chapter Sixteen

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Samae roused me with a cold nose in my ear the next day from my healing-drained slumber. I’d spent the rest of the afternoon and into last evening travelling and healing at the camp where Nivetta’s injured folk were.

I sleepily brushed her away and rolled over in bed to snuggle up against Danu only to find the center of the bed cold. I choked back a sob as the memory of yesterday flooded back.

Many people wait for you, the big black wolf said.

I groaned, realizing I’d called on them all and that in my exhaustion I had once again slept long past when I’d planned to be up. Grumbling, I threw back the covers and went to get dressed. Corina appeared with a platter of food and helped me finish dressing. While I sat at the dressing table and ate ravenously, she brushed and plaited my hair and settled the thin silver coronet atop the shiny auburn braids.

“Rulfo says all are assembled, as you requested,” my flame-haired maid said. “And your new, ah, friends,” she said the word almost questioningly, “await you in the hallway.”

“Thank you, Corina.” I smiled, standing. I gave her a quick hug, and left the room.

Nivetta, Fiord and the rest greeted me and we made our way toward the great hall where I could hear excited mutterings from the townspeople. It would be a good diversion from my worries about Danu, and now our tentative alliance with Khallad. Samae and her four lanky half-grown pups, padded silently behind us.

Nivetta’s small group had been tripled with the addition of two more mages and eight warriors, two of whom carried large hawks. I’d been surprised to learn that most Navorans were born with abilities no greater than simple mind-speech and no small few without any magical talents at all. It had always been a generalized belief of the Rowheem that all Navorans carried strong magical knacks.

Several of the new additions to their group, including three of the warriors, had suffered broken bones in the shipwreck. The rest of the warriors had stayed behind to protect them, for they’d sighted the Quilbai near the coast on their six day journey inland.

Rather than enter from behind the dais, as I usually did, I chose to enter the hall from the main doors where the sight of the group with me would have greater impact on those gathered. The great doors stood open, inviting any stragglers to join the tumult inside. The guards outside the door saluted me, eying the strangers behind me suspiciously. A hush rippled through the crowd as those nearer the entrance noticed us. They parted, stepping aside to allow us passage and their whispers followed us across the room.

When I reached the top of the dais, a pair of my guards came forward to flank me, and I gestured the Navorans to stand at one side. The muttering of speculation rolled through the crowd, gaining in intensity. They could see clearly that these people were not Rowheem, with their pale skin, pale eyes and light hair. Few Raldians had gotten close enough to see the mages ten years ago, those that did had been killed.

I cleared my throat and the murmuring stopped; stillness settled like a blanket of snow.

“I’ve asked you all here today,” I said into the silence, “to bring news, both grave and good. In the way of things, I’ll start with the grave news.” I paused, hesitating to break the pleasant mood they all carried thanks to the warm spring weather. “I have had a premonition of the return of our enemies, the mages of Navora.”

The crowd gasped collectively and I put up a hand for their continued attention. “My scribe, Compa, who has done much research and knows more of Navora than I, calls our adversaries The League. They are a fairly small but strong band of mages who make themselves enemies to a great many,” I paused briefly to lay some emphasis on my next words, “including their own countrymen.”