Simon Hawke - The Seeker

Only those to whom life meant less than some goal, some ideal, would ever feel its flame. As the spark ignited a fire that began to spread within her, Korahna resolved that somehow, even if it was at the cost of her own life, she would find a way to escape her bonds and help Ryana. And as her gaze burned into Torian, who had contemptuously turned his back on her, Korahna swore silently that she would find a way to kill him.

“They are moving quickly,” Sorak said.

“Torian is anxious to he out of the barrens before nightfall, ” Eyron replied. “He does not wish to risk making camp without a fire.”

“You think he will push on instead of making camp?”

“I would not, if I were in his place,” said Eyron. “The darkness favors you. Making camp will slow him down, but a camp fire would also render your approach more difficult.”

“Our approach,” said Sorak.

“Well, when it comes to that, then leave me out of it,” said Eyron. “I find violence unsettling.”

“You mean you find fear unsettling,” said Sorak. “Call it what you will,” Eyron replied. “The fact remains that I will not be of much use to you if you can feel my ... unsettlement. You have asked for my advice, shocking as that may seem, and I have given it to the best of my ability. I have done my part. When the time comes, I would much prefer to be asleep and out of your way. I have had quite enough excitement on this journey, thank you.”

“Wouldn’t you want to know what happens?” Sorak asked.

“If you execute my plan well, I know what will happen” Eyron replied. “And if you do not, well, I would prefer to die quietly in my sleep.”

“You think the Shade and Kether and the others would allow us to die?” asked Sorak.

“It would take you time to summon Kether, time you may not have,” said Eyron pointedly. “As for the Shade, even he is not invulnerable, fearsome as he may be.”

“You have too strong a sense of your mortality, Eyron,” Sorak said.

“And you have too frail a sense of ours,” Eyron replied. “And since your mortality is mine, as well, it seems rather in my interest to remind you of that every now and then.”

“You have a point,” admitted Sorak, smiling to himself.

“And do not give me that condescending little smile,” said Eyron, irritably. “I have not always shirked my part whenever we are all in danger. It is just that this time....”

“You are worried about Ryana,” Sorak said with some surprise. “I had always thought you found her presence irksome.”

“Well. . . in the beginning, perhaps . ..” Eyron replied somewhat hesitantly, as if reluctant to admit he truly cared about anyone except himself. “I suppose I have grown accustomed to her. And if, by chance, something should go wrong...”

“You would rather not be there to see it,” Sorak completed the thought for him. “And you think I would? My feelings for Ryana are considerably stronger than yours.”

“I know,” said Eyron sympathetically. “I suppose I really am a coward, after all.”

“If you are, then you are that part of me that is cowardly,” said Sorak. “Besides, feeling afraid does not make one a coward. It is allowing fear to become that which controls you in everything you do that makes a coward. Isn’t that right. Guardian?”

“Everyone feels fear at one time or another,” she replied. “It is but the natural way of things.”

“Even you?” asked Eyron.

“Even me,” she replied. “I fear for Ryana’s safety as much as you do. I fear also for the princess. She may be a defiler’s daughter, but her heart is pure, and she has chosen the Path of the Preserver. A life as Torian’s concubine is a fate as bad as death. And I fear for all of us, as well.”

“But what of the Shade?” asked Eyron. “Surely, the Shade does not know fear.”

“I cannot speak for the Shade,” the Guardian replied. “He is that part of us that is driven by the elemental, primal force of survival. He is the beast within, and we all know how terrible he is to behold. When he is awake, we tremble. When he slumbers, we are nevertheless grateful for his presence. Yet as powerful as the Shade is, consider the sources from which that power stems. The instinct to survive is, in Part, driven by fear. So even though the Shade may appear utterly fearless, to some degree, fear must be a part of that which drives and motivates him. No one is completely without fear, Eyron. Fear is a part of every living creature. It is one of those things that enables us to understand what it truly means to be alive.”

Eyron withdrew for a while to contemplate the Guardian’s words, and the Guardian withdrew as well, so as not to intrude on Sorak’s thoughts. However, she was never very far beneath the surface, and Sorak knew he could always depend on her protective, maternal strength and on the wisdom of her perceptions. Eyron, too, for all of his contentiousness, was often a source of comfort to him, irritating though he could be. Eyron’s negativity and cynicism were valuable to him in that they were traits he lacked himself. In the past, he had found them to be hindrances, but now he understood that Eyron’s character traits were essential as a balance to his own and those of all the others—the Ranger, with his strongly pragmatic sensibilities, his stoic self-containment, and his Jove of and affinity with nature; Lyric, with his childlike sense of wonder and his innocent spirit; the Watcher, whose ever-aware, cautious presence was set off by her almost constant silence; the mysterious and ethereal Kether, who was, in a sense, a part of them and yet was more like some sort of spiritual visitation from another plane; even Kivara, with her amoral impulses and irrepressible desire for sensual stimulation and excitement. Separately, all of them were incomplete, but together, they achieved a balance that preserved the tribe of one.

And now, the delicate balance of the tribe was absolutely essential to the success of Eyron’s plan. If Ryana and the princess were to be saved, they would all have to work together, and the timing would be crucial, for they could not all come to the fore at the same time. Even if Sorak could call upon all of their abilities at once, the plan would still be dangerous. But he could not. Much of the plan would depend on the ones among them who were the least humanoid, the ones who were the living embodiments of the animal sides of their nature. And it would all begin with Screech.

Torian stopped and looked around. “We shall make camp here,” he said. Wearily, he dismounted and ordered the two mercenaries to start gathering dry scrub brush for the fire. Both Gorak and Rovik looked exhausted, and Torian knew exactly how they felt. As fit as he was, he scarcely had any energy left.

The priestess and the princess looked half dead. For them, bound and gagged as they were, the journey had been still more difficult. No matter, Torian thought. The priestess would survive for the short time still left to her, and Korahna would have time to recover from the journey once they reached his family estate in Gulg. This ordeal would break her rebellious, independent spirit, Torian thought. By the time he brought her home, she would be meek and docile, with no more fight left in her. He smiled to himself as he thought that women were, in many ways, like kanks. By nature unruly and difficult to handle, once they were broken to the saddle they obediently did the master’s bidding. Korahna would make a handsome little kank, and he could use her at his pleasure. As for the priestess ... well, perhaps it was bad luck to kill a priestess, but it would not be accomplished by his hand.