The Heritage

Chapter 22

"He appears to be badly injured," Haito spoke softly to Jak who hunkered down beside him. "He holds a pistol in his hand so we have just watched."

"He's a Dramin all right," Gainer said, joining them. "I wonder what happened."

"Well just watching him won't answer that, I'll go and ask."

"The pistol, Jak! He's liable to shoot."

"We'll see." Jak stood and walked slowly toward the soldier, calling out his name and what he intended. The man stared in fright as Jak approached and knelt beside him, examining the blood seeping through the front of his tunic.

"That appears to be a mortal wound my friend," he said sympathetically. "Can you speak?" The soldier gasped and squeezed his eyes shut from the pain, pointing to his tunic. "I know, I can see-" The soldier shook his head and pointed again. Jak pushed the bloody tunic aside and saw the tip of the parchment roll inside. He pulled it out and the man nodded, grunting again in severe pain.

Jak read the King's orders, realizing that Eldergar just wanted Mingus back in Dramin. There was no way Primula would launch an attack on Dramin, Eldergar was simply afraid because he knew that Wyeth had been found. He nodded to the soldier and patted his shoulder.

"There is nothing I can do for you, friend. We cannot take you with us even you could ride; with that wound you wouldn't get beyond the glade." The soldier held his eyes and gurgled a sigh, a resignation settling over his tense body. He just nodded and closed his eyes. "We will wait and see to a proper burial if you wish." Again the soldier nodded, trying a brave smile.

The shot split the silence in the glade and a few of the horses shied nervously as a covey of birds fluttered noisily into the sky. Gainer sent two of his men to fetch the soldier's body and they laid him to rest in a shallow grave with a brief, silent prayer. Haito and his men watched with great interest.

"We will ride to Terrault and rest and reorganize. Primula will want a complete report on what has happened and will then decide how she wishes to proceed."

Haito and his men held a noisy, hurried conversation. "My men are upset that you take your orders from a woman."

"Do they refuse to help?"

"Captain, I pledged my honour to your cause at the village. My men will do as I command."

Jak nodded and smiled. "Good. Then tell them that our Queen expects the same loyal obedience from her soldiers. And," Jak added with a bigger smile, "she is as strong and clever a leader as the honourable daughter of Haito." Haito bowed and returned to his men and a second later they were all lined up and ready to march.

*****

The people of Terrault lined the narrow roadway as the soldiers made their way to the palace. There was a murmur of concern and curiosity as Haito and his men marched by, their crossbows slung over bare shoulders and the colourful scarves about their foreheads flapping haughtily. Jak and Gainer dismounted at the entrance to the square and issued orders to their men before waving Haito forward.

"This is where our Queen resides. We will take you in to greet her but I think the rest of your men should remain out here for now." Haito nodded and returned to his men, issuing his usual gruff commands before returning to join Jak and Gainer.

"Should I come as well?" Wyeth asked.

"I would think so," Jak laughed. "You are the reason for this entire affair."

Wyeth pulled a face and started up the steps to the square. On the periphery of his vision, he caught sight of the young soldier with the face scarf and thought about asking Haito about the reason for hiding one's features but the three men were striding ahead, locked in their own conversation. He hurried to catch up and as the entered the huge doors, he looked back and saw the young soldier turn away quickly.

Primula strode across the room and halted in front of the men, hands on hips and an openly wondrous expression on her face.

"Captains," she greeted them. "And my young Moranian friend, I bid you welcome home." She turned her attention to Haito and cocked an eyebrow. "And this would be?"

"This is Haito Osakawa, Primula. He is the leader of the Japan people of the village we first sought."

"And he is here, why?" She began circling the group, inspecting the newcomer with interest.

"The story is long, Primula, and we have come very far without much food or rest. I ask that you allow us a short time to recover and then we can discuss all that has taken place." Jak stepped toward her and lightly took her arm, leading her a short distance from the others. Haito's eyes widened at the casual familiarity the Captain took with his Queen.

"A newsworthy warning, Primula," he whispered. "It happens that young Jared, who's real name is Wyeth, is the heir to the Dramoraine throne." He felt her jerk at the news and tightened his grip. "Say nothing now. Think upon this until we have our meeting. The lad is very confused and angry over this discovery; we must move with caution." Jak stepped away and bowed slightly. "Until later, Primula."

She nodded and set her eyes upon Wyeth, following him all the way out the door with them.

Haito's men were quartered with the Terrault soldiers, and Wyeth felt his spirits lift when he was given his old room, which hadn't changed at all. He stripped down from his grungy clothes and luxuriated in a thorough, brisk wash from the basin. Toweling himself dry, he wrapped the damp cloth around his waist and went to the window, opening the shutter and breathing in the cool air.

Below in the street he could see the little groups of citizens gossiping about the strange men that had come to their city. He smiled and was about to turn away when he caught sight of a figure moving cautiously down the street, taking shelter in each doorway along the route. He leaned on the sill and concentrated on the soldier's movements, watching as the figure darted across the road and ducked behind a small hedge as some townspeople passed.

It was the one with the covered face; this one is up to no good, Wyeth thought, suddenly realizing that the soldier was heading for the palace. Was this some spy that had joined Haito's men to do harm to Primula? He cast aside the towel and hastily pulled on the fresh clothes provided to him when he arrived and ran down the stairs, his boots tucked under his arm.

At the back of the hall on the ground floor was a small window and Wyeth stole a look outside just as the soldier, running doubled over, scooted past, on hand poised on the haft of the wicked looking sword swinging from the sash about his waist. Dancing clumsily into his boots, Wyeth squeezed through the window in pursuit.

He vaulted over the wall and had to flatten himself on the ground as the soldier stopped and began to turn. Controlling his breath, Wyeth peered over the edge but could see nothing. He cursed, chiding himself for losing his quarry and started over the wall again. Halfway over, something grabbed his leg and in the next instant he was grappling with the soldier who had obviously seen him and had set an ambush.

The two figures thrashed and rolled among the shrubs until Wyeth managed to alight on top of the soldier, pinning his arms and tearing away the face covering.

"KYSOO!"

"WYETH!"

He rolled away and sat up in shock. "Wha- how... what are you doing here?"

She moved to a squatting position and dusted off her clothes, rubbing at a sore spot on her arm. "Looking for you. I thought you would be in the palace."

"I mean, what are you doing here?" He stood and brushed at his own clothing, staring down at her.

"I followed you..." her voice trailed away and she ducked her eyes.

He felt his sides grow hot and his heart thumped a little louder in his chest as he bent back down, taking her arm. "You followed me?"

"I am ashamed of my behaviour Wyeth-san. I do not know what my father will do... I have disgraced him... and myself."

"You followed me- here?" He lifted her chin and swallowed hard at the tears pooling in her magnificent eyes. "Kysoo- I- I can't believe- I can't- Oh blast! I can't even speak." He wrapped his arms around her and without hesitation, their lips met in a blind, blissful moment.