The midday sun of the late summer
day beamed on the caravan consisting of three Rover wagons, several extra
coursers and eight riders. Val tugged off his neck cloth and wiped his sweaty
brow. Today he rode as rear guard and used his affinity for Water to search for
emotions that spoke of strangers. As yet, the group seemed to be the only
travelers for miles.
He scanned the horizon. The grassy
plains stretched to the east and the west of the old rutted road leading toward
a distant grove of trees. The forest could hide attackers, but as yet he sensed
no unknown enemies.
The heavy loads stored in the wagons
caused the slow progress. Val had to admit Doma Jandia was the best trader he
had ever encountered. Not only did they have extra mounts there was enough food
and grain to last a month or more along with the tools they needed to repair
the abandoned keep. He grinned. They still had credit with the Rovers.
An outburst of angry emotions
impinged on his peace. Val’s hands clenched. Four days of travel beneath a hot
sun had brought tempers to the fore, especially from those whose affinity for
Fire guided their actions.
Ky and her courser tore toward him.
With one hand she held the reins. The other hand held a raised sword that
blazed with flames. Behind her, Zand galloped. His sword showed a plume of
fire. “Take that back,” he shouted.
Val rode toward the pair. “Enough,”
he cried. “Dampen those flames. Do you want to set the grass aflame and
endanger us all?”
“She called me a baby,” Zand said.
Val sucked in a breath. “What did
you say to her?”
“That I was better with a sword.”
Val nodded. “Since you have been
practicing with one since you could hold a blade, how else could you be? I say
you’re both acting like children.” In some ways they both were, not only in age
but in experience. “Why don’t the pair of you spar after evening meal when
Dragen can watch and comment?”
The flames on Ky’s sword died. She
turned to Zand. “A good idea.”
“Just blades. No flames,” Zand said.
The pair wheeled and rode off. Val
watched them go. Sometimes he wished he could use his affinity for Water to
empty a cloud on his friends’ heads. A longing for shade and coolness arose.
Would they reach the trees in time to make camp for the night?
Why were there no farms or villages
in this area? Was this part of the highlands? He knew the Rovers’ camp was in
the neutral ground between the lowlands and the highlands. How much further
must they travel to reach the deserted keep Dragen knew? The abandoned dwelling
was to be a refuge where they could learn to use their affinities. This meant
another change in his life.
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