Return to Kinthaldith

A novel by Meredith Skye

* ^ * ^ * ^ * ^ *

Jesh woke on a small bed in a narrow, windowless storeroom somewhere. Jesh realized that he was chained to the bed. He called out a few times, wondering where they were.

Lord Risser opened the door and approached Jesh with a stern expression. He sat down on the bed. "So, just what were you doing up on that mountain?" asked Risser.

Jesh studied him, wondering why he would ask. "At first, I was just trying to escape," said Jesh. "Then, when I realized it was futile. I guess I was looking for a place to die." Risser looked at Jesh, confused. "I thought if I died in the snow, then the Prenth wouldn't blame you, and they wouldn't invade."

Risser stared at Jesh a moment. "You know that Bishop Raithenevor cannot be Prenth."

"He is. I saw him at the warehouse, speaking Prenth. He spoke it to me," said Jesh.

Risser shook his head. "He's always been on Kinthaldith since before you and my father left for Prent. You're wrong."

That couldn't be. Jesh couldn't be mistaken about this.

"Anyway," Risser said stiffly. "Why didn't you confide this to me? Talk to me about it?"

Jesh stared at him with the terrible realization that Risser might have listened. He assumed that he wouldn't. Yet even though Jesh had tried to kill him, Risser still protected him against Lord Darrish. Jesh had misjudged him. "I...I was afraid you'd kill me," said Jesh.

Risser stood, the coldness coming back into his eyes. "So, instead, you tried to kill me."

Jesh had no answer for this. It was true--desperate and stupid.

Bending forward a little, Risser said. "And then you robbed me." He took a step back, his eyes angry. "Get some rest. We'll leave in the morning." He turned and headed for the door.

"For where?" Jesh asked desperately.

Risser turned and faced him, his eyes hard. "Talleighdoran," he said, looking Jesh straight in the eye. Risser left and shut the door with finality.

* * * * *

Risser gave Jesh a few biscuits in the morning as he led him outside. Then he turned Jesh over to Lord Darrish and Ferrell, who were packing the horses. As before, they chained Jesh around the neck and to the horse's saddle. But they also chained his wrists together with a chain about a foot long.

They loaded Jesh up with Risser's gear, which Jesh had usually carried. The load wasn't terribly heavy, but Jesh's exposure to the snow had left him weak. Risser made sure they gave him a canteen.

Once they were packed, they set out on foot, all of them. The horses were loaded with supplies. This time, Ferrell didn't follow behind Jesh with the lash, and Jesh wondered if Risser had forbidden him.

Jesh felt sick most of the morning and tired easily. He stumbled along but kept the pace. Finally, around noon, they stopped and unloaded some of the bags to cook lunch. A chill wind blew across the snow-covered ground, but not too fiercely.

They released Jesh from the chain around his neck and led him to sit on a rock. He rested while the others made a fire. Risser took charge of cooking and began to make soup. Lord Harttan took care of the horses.

Jesh pulled his cloak tighter against the wind, grateful for a chance to sit. He felt numb at the thought of the journey they were making and the destination. He knew he didn't have long to live, and soon, the Prenth would have Kinthaldith.

Finally, he stood up, his physical needs becoming too insistent. "I have to pee," he said, embarrassed at needing to ask.

Lord Darrish studied him with a smile. "Go ahead. You can do it here."