Dathari II Allegiance Ch. 3

Chapter 3
He woke early the next morning, still on edge from his capture. The sun was just creeping over the horizon, and it was struggling to make it further. Light began to filter in through the waterfall, and beams crept into the farthest reaches of the cave. Three of the Ketarans were still sleeping, but one was missing.
He heard a soft twang, and quickly rolled away from his wall into a fighting stance, ready to draw his dagger. However, the arrow never came this way. A light yelp was heard, followed by the sound of something heavy hitting the ground. Alhon quickly looked at Tharra, making sure she was still there.
His fears of the Ketarans did not abate over the night. Worries filled his mind about how they would react, now that they were rested.
Soon the light fell across the faces of everyone else, and they began to stir out of their sleep. Alhon stood up, not knowing what to expect. In the light he was able to see his captors more clearly. He saw the blonde one, who attacked him in the forest; the redheaded man, who (seemingly) befriended him, and a redheaded woman, who didn’t do all that much last night, except brandish her short swords. He watched her arise, fold her blanket up, and throw back her hair. He saw a glance of a face that seemed all too familiar… all too painful…
Alíha…
No! She was dead! He had watched her!
But…
She walked over to the waterfall and rinsed her hair out in the falls. It was dark, almost a dark brown like hers…
He began trembling. He couldn’t help it.
She looked at him. “Is something wrong?”
He blacked out.

He woke up with a splitting headache. His vision was blurry, but he could faintly make out a face above him. Slowly he began to remember what had happened, and he made out the face on top of him. It was the red haired man, Cital. “Easy, friend,” he said. “You fainted and hit your head. It seemed as if you had seen a ghost.” Suddenly he remembered what he saw. He bolted up, even though his head was screaming with pain. In a flash his dagger was out and trained on the man.
“Tharra, we have to go,” he said weakly.
“She is not here,” Cital replied.
Alhon grabbed him by the shirt. “What have you done with her?!”
“Easy. She left to go hunting with the others.”
“With…”
“Yes. She went with Nariya and Trinas. I would not attack, though. I am still guarded.” He pulled a long, ornate sword out of a sheath on his hip. “This is Malchor, the sword of the Ketaran Throne. It is as sharp as the day it was made.” Alhon slowly let him go, and Cital put the blade back into his sheath.
“Where’s…”
“The person you met this morning was Nariya, one of my finest fighters. She is not a threat unless you make her one.”
“No… she’s…”
“As I said earlier, you looked as if you had seen a ghost. Do you think…?”
“No…I mean yes… I mean… I don’t know anymore!!”
“If she is not Nariya, then who is she?”
Alhon paused, his lip quivering. “Dead.”
“How can she be dead? She was standing right here.”
“But…How did you know… You’ve known all along!”
“Known what?”
“They’re… Tharra!!”
“I have already told you: she is in safe company.”
He screamed, “Not with two ghosts!” and ran out of the cave. Cital followed, having trouble keeping up with him.
He ran into the woods, the shouts of Cital trailing behind. He drowned them out and tried to listen. There it was: a soft twang. He hoped he wasn’t too late.
If anything, this realization made his headache much worse. He had to protect Tharra, who he took responsibility for. If anything happened to her…
He ran towards the sound that he heard, and finally spotted them. “Tharra!!” he screamed. He ran as fast as he could toward them. Two of the ghosts were with her, and one of them was her.
Alíha.
With a primal scream he rushed at the group placing himself between Tharra and Alíha. Kimolthe was out in a flash, glowing brightly as it felt Alhon’s physical and emotional pain. “Get behind me,” he told Tharra.
“Why?”
“I can’t say, but we have to go now.” He turned to the all-too-real Alíha. “Please stop this. I…I couldn’t take it if… I’m sorry… I couldn’t…” He broke down sobbing.
A faint yelling came up the hill. “Wait! Stop!”
Alíha turned to Cital. “What is it?”
He puffed up the hill, leaning over to catch his breath. “He must be ill. I think he may be hallucinating.”
“What?” Tharra asked in disbelief.
He turned to Tharra. “Have you had enough rations since you left? Enough water, food?”
“I thought so, but it seemed that I always had more water than I should. Could he have…”
“He might have dehydrated himself to protect you, and the sickness affected him now. He seemed to associate Nariya with a deceased person.”
The red-haired woman spoke up. “He kept talking as if I had done something to him. Did he confuse me with one of his enemies?”
Tharra replied, “Yes, that’s obvious. As of late, he’s been very untrusting, spotting threats and enemies wherever he goes. The Revolution did that to a number of our soldiers. Something to do with stress, I think.”
“By our reckoning, it was only a short war, but any information you should have on it would be quite helpful,” Cital said.
Tharra stole a glance at the two bodyguards cleaning and polishing their weapons, the light glinting off of the hardened steel.

“… and so the camp was destroyed and we fled into the hills surrounding Mador. Thékir, who was a traitor, was taken by the mercenaries, although it seemed as if he was captured rather than welcomed. Drono fled, and no one’s seen him since.”
“That is a dark tale,” commented Cital. “What more came of it?”
“Well,” Tharra continued, “from our new camp, we planned an immediate strike at the Palace, so that they would be caught unaware. My team was sent to cripple the Royal Guard, even though they did not know what was happening. King Rithálion and Alhon entered the chamber Lokar was in, and when they came out, Ond said Lokar was dead, and Alhon was… different. He seemed… I don’t know how to explain it. But later that night we returned to the camp, letting the Guard spread the news about both takeovers. We lit a pyre with all our dead, and he was one of the torchbearers. Since then, I’ve been in Carren, a city that started as a fishing village and is now a main supply of food for Dathari.”
“Now much makes sense. However, you were not with Alhon much during these fights. Why?”
“At Shathon, he was missing that night, and I think his friend Johal knows why, but he won’t tell. As for the Palace raid, Ond needed him for that job, I guess.”
“I see.” He looked at the young warrior, who was sleeping in the back of the cavern. “I believe that his hallucinations are cause by both dehydration and emotional trauma. Do you know if anyone he was close to died?”
“No. Actually, I don’t know anything about before he arrived in the camp.”
“You don’t need to,” a voice said. Alhon began struggling to get up.
“I think we do,” Cital replied.
“Where are they?”
“I’ve sent them all scouting. Tharra had volunteered to be my bodyguard for now, and you are in no condition to fight.” He grunted in reply.
“Alhon, the truth needs to come out. Who did you think Nariya was, and why? What happened to her?” He glared at Cital, but said nothing. Cital sighed and continued, “If you hear my tale, then would you tell me yours?” He didn’t reply. “Very well. I shall begin, and if you wish to keep your part of the bargain is up to you.”
“It begins with a nation called Sornia…”
“Sornia?” he asked.
“Yes. Have you heard of it?”
“Of Sornians, yes. Only from…”
“I see. My friends told you.” Tharra looked confused. “I will get to them in a moment. Anyway, the Sornians are vicious men, who are trained to unleash their anger and their rage in battle. They are ruthless, tall, dark men, who would kill you, skin you, and eat you if they had the chance.”
“Wait,” Alhon said. “They don’t happen to have a circular camp, with dark brown tents, do they?”
“Have you seen them?”
“Yes, on our way here, after leaving the Edge of the Wild. It was a small army. We were able to hear some of them talking. They said something about you not coming to aid, and the Ketarans not knowing they exist. I fear that they were talking about Dathari.”
“I couldn’t say for sure, but it seems that you are the only nation around that we hadn’t discovered. If your maps are correct, then we never sent a scout there.”
“Why not?” Tharra asked.
“With the way the land is almost smooth, we assumed that shore continued there. It is also too close to the Sornian Coast for our ships to sail there.”
“Then… Where would Sornia be in relation to Dathari?”
“I would have to say east, maybe northeast. I am not sure.”
“Kelon…” Alhon muttered.
“Who?”
“Never mind. Go on.”
“Yes. Well, we had been at peace with the nation for quite some time. Admittedly, it is a very strained peace, but we’ve never had open warfare break out before. We do not trade with them, nor to we have any diplomatic relations with them of any kind. They are vicious, they are deadly, and they are angry.
“Not more than a year ago, our previous King, Nikol Katase, was assassinated while he was attending a public forum. A person jumped out of the crowd and stabbed him in the chest before his bodyguards could stop him. He died in the attack, though, and we found out that he was a Sornian citizen. The Sornian King, Kolai, denounced the assassination, but we feel that he was one of the planners in the attack.”
“A few nights ago, there was another attack, within our palace walls, even. Another assassin tried to strike, but my guards dispatched him before he got to me.”
“Why you?”
“I am the King of Ketar.” There was a pause as that sank in. Alhon instinctively bowed down. “Get up,” Cital said gruffly.
Tharra asked, “If the Sornians only want to attack you, then what business do they have with Dathari?”
“I couldn’t say. How they even discovered the place is remarkable.” A splash was heard in the pool before the waterfall. “Ah. Here are the rest.” In they walked, some wet, some dry. They entered the cave and stripped their weapons off. “I believe that it is time for a formal introduction. Now that we are together and ready, we can make it formal.” He cleared his throat and continued. “I am Cital Vitaras, King of Ketar, and these are my advisors and protectors. This is Trinas, whom I believe you have already met. She is a very skilled swordsman, as well as an archer.” Trinas jumped over and said, “Hi!”
“Hello,” replied Tharra, keeping her composure. It was hard to be gloomy around that type of personality.
“And this is Nariya.” She stepped forward. They glared at each other, but finally shook hands.
“I’m a little more real than you thought, huh?”
“You could say that.” She backed away as they began their introductions.
“I am Tharra, a scout from the city of Carren.” She walked over to Cital and kissed his hand.
“I’m not that important,” he said nervously.
“I am Alhon Tiráthen, Royal Guardsman, scout, and veteran of the Battle of Shathon.”
“It is nice to meet both of you,” Cital said, “but I do believe that I was explaining our situation. As it were, we had discovered this place during an earlier war against the Sornians. We have a number of other ‘natural shelters’ that are placed all over the land of Ketar, and there are even a few in Sornia.
“So,” Alhon said, “why would an army who’s supposedly an ally with you want to attack, considering the massive troop buildup on both sides of the border?”
“And more importantly,” Tharra added, “what would they want with Dathari?”
“I’m not sure.” Cital began pacing. “Our spies have reported that there has been a heightened sense of morale among the Sornian citizens and army. Rumors are floating around that King Kastor has found out something that could bring about a “Golden Age” for the Sornians. We don’t have much more information on that.
“As for your nation of Dathari… it is, from our scouting, a prime location to launch a naval assault from. The port cities, and the fleets of ships already there offer a grand opportunity. The only catch would be actually taking the land by brute force… but I fear that the simple fact that your nation is not expecting an attack would be sufficient enough surprise for them to do it. I am sorry.”
After a brief pause, Alhon said, “You said you were on the run from assassins. Though it may be in harm’s way, I am offering you safe passage into our capital city of Mador. As a member of the Datharian Royal Guard, I can grant whoever I deem fit diplomatic immunity. You will not be harmed within our borders.” He tried not to let his bluff show.
“Thank you, Master Tiráthen. I shall take this offer into consideration. As it is, I have much to ponder before the dawn breaks, so I believe that I shall rest for the night. Do whatever makes you comfortable, and I shall have a decision for you by daybreak.” He turned to the back of the cave, where his two bodyguards were unfolding blankets.
Alhon and Tharra walked outside of the cave and around the glistening sheet that was the waterfall.
“Nice move,” she said.
“What move?”
“I know basic politics. Believe it or not, I was a student before the revolution roped me into the art of warfare.”
“We all were. So I assume you saw through my bluff?”
“Of course I did. Besides the fact that you haven’t completed your Guardsman training yet, no Guardsman has that right. Only the Royal Advisors can do that.”
“Do they know that?”
“Does it matter?” Her voice began to rise. “What could possibly move you to break such an important law as that?”
“They could be allies. Any enemy of these Sornians could prove useful.”
“I agree with you, but you shouldn’t have gone that far.”
“What are you going to do about it? Go in there and tell them that we lied?” She fell silent. “I need to gain their support. In Mador, the Guard will be able to watch them, study them. We will know their true intentions.”
Tharra sighed. “Fine. But I want you to know that if they turn on us, I will place it squarely on your shoulders.”
“Understood.” He set his supply bag on the ground and began pulling his own blanket. “You should get some sleep. It’s a long hike home.”
“Yes… Good Night.”

“He’s obviously hiding something,” Nariya blurted out as soon as they were alone.
“However,” Cital countered, “Tharra was not hiding anything.”
“Fear of anything new can close someone up quickly,” Trinas noted. “I think that we can trust them. I mean, who else do we have to trust?” was Trinas’ addition.
“And it is that very attitude that I fear.” Cital added. “Perhaps these people are friendly now, but will they stay friendly for as long as we need to run?”
“Then let us return and stop this useless fleeing now! Sornia must pay for its treachery!” demanded Nariya.
“It is too dangerous,” Trinas replied. “We need Cital to stay alive if we want to keep the nation together.”
“And risk the nation falling apart in his absence?”
“Enough!” Cital cried. “Thank you all for your suggestions. I will sleep on the decision, and let you all know what I choose in the morning. Until then, we should all get some sleep.”

Nariya rolled over and sat up. It was a long, hard night, and sleep was not coming easily. For the fourth time, a slight wind or whistle had awaken her. Stupid running… she thought. If Cital were not so lenient as to immediately take the advice of his advisors….
She paused for a moment. I guess that why the call them advisors in the first place. She sighed. And I have sworn to protect him with my life, whatever he decides. Upset, she threw her blanket off of herself and stood up, staring at the twin moons shining through the glass of the waterfall.
So why am I so insecure about this decision?
Because all I want is what’s best for my king…. No, my friend. Staring out of the cave, she saw a slight movement outside. Quickly, she looked around the cave, counting those who were inside, coming up with four, other than herself. That one man, Althon, Alton…no, Alhon was missing. Sitting back down, she watched as the figure slowly walked up and down the river bank, looking… always looking. After pacing three times, he quietly slipped into the river, crossing it to the other side, and again began pacing back and forth… back and forth…
That’s not right, she thought. He seems to be protecting us already, without oath or support. I would expect him to at least pace facing the cave, at least. If he doesn’t trust us, why turn his back on us? Why not just run for it now? She watched him slip back into the river and cross swiftly to the other side. Again, he began pacing back and forth, watching the woods around the Falls.
Making up her mind, she stood up again, skirting the edge of the cave so not to get wet, and walked over to where he was staring up at the sky.
“Hey,” she said. “Couldn’t sleep either?”
“No,” he replied. “I don’t sleep well.”
“Ah.” She followed his gaze upwards to the dark sky, where the stars of the night were shining brightly.
“Is there something interesting up there I should know about?” She asked.
“No, I’m just looking. Contemplating, if you will.”
“On what?”
“That group of stars there.” He pointed at a remote portion of the sky.
“What’s there?”
“Ulë the warrior. In some of our old tales, it was said that Ulë was the protector of a village, and the village flooded. It was up to Ulë to kill the great Etha fish that threatened to destroy his village. He failed, and his entire village was killed because of it. Later, he returned, slaying the beast for his own honor, but losing his own life in the process.”
“… that’s a sad tale.”
“Yes it is, but it is one that has a spring of hope in it.”
“How so?”
“Well, Ulë’s village may have been destroyed, and he may have died himself, but no one else would have to fear the threat of the great fish. And even if he died in shame, history has made him a hero.”
“And he lives in the stars?”
“If you look, you can see Ulë’s arms wrestling open the mouth of the great fish.”
“Wow… now that you mention it, I can see it.” Her eyes slowly adjusted to the dark. “Why would you make a legend about stars?”
“I’m not quite sure. It is an old one, one that had been passed down through thousands of years. It’s… I dunno. Just a piece of home, I guess. Something that’s still normal.”
“I guess that makes sense.” They fell silent, letting the sounds of nature overcome them. The sounds were oddly comforting in the night, where the sounds of water and wildlife seemed to contrast the talk of mystical evils that had gone on the previous evening.
“Do you sleep outside often?”
“If we’re out in the wild, yeah. Just something I’ve grown to do.”
“ Hmm.”
“Hmm?”
She chuckled. “Yeah… I guess that I’d rather the protection of the cave inside… hidden, dry, safe…”
He smiled. “That does sound appealing.” With one last look op in the sky, he walked over to his small camp, and curled up in his blanket on the ground. “But, if you don’t mind, I’d rather be outside while the weather’s still nice.” He rolled over to look at her. “You have a long day tomorrow. You should get to sleep.”
“Yeah, I guess so. See you in the morning, then?”
“Yep. I’ll be up.”
“Good night.” She walked back over to the cave, hearing the slight rustle as Alhon shifted beneath his blankets.

The next morning Nariya woke up early, looking around anxiously at the cave, again counting the people there. All accounted for, save Alhon and Trinas, who were sleeping and hunting, respectively. The earliest rays of the Great Star began shining through the trees in the forest, whose shadows seemed to hang over the entrance to the waterfall like a dark phantom. There were no signs that Alhon had been outside the cave earlier that night, as any impressions he may have left were subtly erased.
With a rustling and a cry, Trinas stepped out of the woods, two large birds tied to her back. Walking into the cave, she pranced over to Nariya, saying, “You are already awake? That is unlike you.”
“I didn’t sleep well.”
“Odd. I slept just fine. Well, here is our breakfast, if you choose to light a fire.”
“We should have no problems, assuming that we keep it small.” At that moment, Tharra stirred, which in turn woke Cital.
Yawning, Cital muttered, “Good morning,” and slowly began folding up his blanket. A chorus of “Good Mornings” answered him, and everyone began doing likewise. Nariya stood up to bring some wood from the rear caverns, while Trinas began plucking the feathers off of her birds.
Abruptly, Alhon walked in, fully ready for travel. “A Sornain army passed through the night, no less than three-hundred leagues from here.”
Startled, Cital quickly asked, “How large was it?”
“The tracks they left were very wide. It had to be near two-thousand troops.”
“Do you know which way they were heading?” Nariya added.
“They were heading south, into… into Dathari. Your Highness, I need to press for your decision.”
“Do not fear; I have already made up my mind. After much praying and thought, I have decided to follow you into your lands, the realm of Dathari.”
“Then we must hurry. We cannot allow any followers to find us here.”
“So what is our way, then?”
“We shall head south, following the way we came up. We have mapped some alternate paths. We should be within Datharian borders in two days.”
“Very well. We leave at once.”
After packing the blankets back into their bags, the group set off along the river, keeping close to the water so their sounds would be drowned out. The threat of Sornian attack was a high risk, and all the warriors had weapons accessible.
It was a day’s walk from the waterfall to the edge of the woods, and when they entered the clearing where the Sornians had been, they set up a camp.
Trinas and Tharra stood off from the camp a bit. “There is a foul wind here,” Trinas commented.
“The Sornians camped only 200 yards from here.” Trinas didn’t reply. “Do you think that Dathari is in danger?”
“I don’t know what to say about Dathari. My only hope is that your King Rithálion is open to our cause.”
“I don’t know what he will say to that.”

A small fire was lit, and a guard was set. Two people would watch, while the rest would sleep. Even Cital took a guard. “I may not be able to fight, but I can scream.”
“How true is that,” Nariya muttered with a smile.
Trinas and Tharra had first watch, while Cital would take second. Alhon and Nariya would take third.
After securing the campsite, Alhon lay down to rest, unsure of what the coming days would bring him.

They were screaming.
He had this dream often. The familiar smell of wood-smoke, the red glow from torches, his parents’ screams.
As usual, he ran out the back door, trying to make his way out. Again, a thug stopped him. He looked up, half expecting to see Thékir’s face again, but this time, he saw…
Cital.
“Come, friend. All is not lost.” Ropes were strung against the wall as the Exile grapplers climbed down the wall. The Royal Guard began protecting the exiles. For the first time, he realized that he was dressed in the red robes of the Guard. He reached over his shoulder and felt the cool sting of Kimolthe. And then he saw them.
Alíha.
Nariya.
Both alive. Both fighting, back to back. They were holding off a circle of warriors.
He ran into the circle, joining Alíha and Nariya.
And then they both screamed and fell.
Alíha was shot, and Nariya impaled.
Both of the killers turned to him, walking out of the shadows.
Both of them had his own face… his own robes…
Cital ran up, shaking him out of his shock.

“Get up! It’s time for our watch!”
He opened up his eyes and saw Nariya shaking him awake. He coiled back, until he realized that it was only a dream…
Only a dream…
And yet… it disturbed him greatly. He knew that dreams mean nothing, that they are no more than images conjured by the mind, but it still threw him off-balance.
Silently he stood up, folding his blanket and placing it into his pack. He pulled his small dagger out of the top of his bag, strapping it to his belt. Feeling behind his back for his sword, he turned around and began walking away, watching the area.
“Hey!” Nariya yelled. “Where are you going?”
“To begin my watch. You should get back to the camp.”
“No. Not yet… What happened back there?”
“What?”
“When I woke you… you were deathly afraid. I could see it on your face.” He slowly turned around. “What happened?”
“Nothing that concerns you. My thoughts and fears are my own.”
“If it affects my king, then we all must know.”
“It doesn’t, so you should not push into my life.”
“Fine. Keep your secrets.”
“I intend to.”

All too quickly morning came. They packed up the camp, put out the fire, and continued their journey. Cital reasoned that it would only take three days to enter the realm of Dathari, and it was already well into the second day. Along the way they saw obvious signs of Sornian war camps: Burned patches of field, felled trees, and animal carcasses strewn around. The third day, and the Datharian Edge of the Wild, came with heavy hearts.
Many trees had been knocked down, but not so many that the forest wouldn’t recover. The group followed the Sornian trail until they left the woods and were able to finally see the land of Dathari.
They saw smoke rising from the south. They were too late.
They quickened their haste, trying to reach Mador to see if anything survived. It was nightfall before they got to the edge of the foothills in the woods surrounding the city, and when they crested the first hill, they saw flame.
The entire city was ablaze. The brightest and largest flame came out of the palace.
“I am sorry, Alhon, Tharra,” Cital said.
Alhon looked up with a cold anger. “They will pay for what they’ve done. Too many have died to protect this. They shall not go unavenged.” He turned to the king. “We will take camp in Shathon, assuming that there are no Sornians there. I know the area, and we can plan a form of attack.” He gathered his things and began walking away.
Nariya moved over to Cital. “What if we don’t want to attack?”
He replied, “I don’t think he sees that as a choice.”