Kaavl Conspiracy, page 45
A harsh slap, but her young cousin cried out again, undaunted. “Let us go, you horrible bea…” Her shout was abruptly muffled.
“We need to make a plan,” Verdnt bit out.
“Be quiet!” snapped the Dehrien Chief. “Hold them still while I think.”
Methusal’s palms felt sticky with nervous perspiration. She had actually seen down that hall, and it was clear Aali and Old Sims were Dehrien prisoners. She had to do something! But what? Clearly she could not take on seven Dehriens by herself. And Aali and Old Sims wouldn’t be much help. She listened intently. If only she could hear their plan…
“…plateau?”
“Yes, but it’s tricky.” Verdnt’s voice.
“Get moving, then.” Footsteps whispered back down the passage.
They were going to climb up to the croplands. But why? Did they plan to kill Aali and Sims up there? That didn’t make sense.
Methusal gave up trying to figure it out for the time being, because she realized that regardless of Mentàll’s plan, she needed help. And she knew just where to find it. She hoped.
Chapter Thirty-Four
METHUSAL RAN toward the dining hall, kaavl strips in her teeth, and rocks in her hands for protection. Pandemonium reigned in the dining hall, passage, Grand Staircase, and Great Hall. Rocks flew and knives flashed as men fought in hand to hand combat. Screams and hoarse shouts reverberated in the rocky halls. From the number of people up ahead, it looked like at least two dozen Rolbani men had escaped. She didn’t see any women or children, and guessed they were probably still captives in the dining hall.
She crouched low and ducked and twisted among the wrestling throngs of people, heading for her classroom. A flying knife grazed her arm, but she barely felt it. A lunging, slithering crawl between the legs of two fighters, and then she was through, rolling down the narrow passage on the other side of the dining hall.
She leaped into the dark sanctuary of the first classroom, hoping no Dehriens lay in wait for an unwary Rolbani. She hoped, instead, to find friends. If not, she’d use Aali’s passage so she could go help those on the plateau.
“Thusa!” A hoarse whisper caught her attention.
Cautiously, she tiptoed toward Aalicaa’s tunnel, located in the far corner of the room.
“Here.” Behran leaned over Deccia, who lay sprawled against the far wall. In the dim light, her face looked pale.
Horrified, Methusal dropped to her knees. “What happened?”
“She’ll be okay.” Behran’s gaze rested on her for a moment, reassuring her. “Her arm is sprained, and right now Timaeus is finding a sling. She also has a knife wound in her side. It’s not too deep. Timaeus already treated that.”
Methusal was glad that runners always carried healing coltac leaves with them, just like she did. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she anxiously asked her sister.
Deccia offered a wan smile. “I’m fine. But I’m glad Behran got me out of that fight. It’s wild, isn’t it?”
Just like Deccia, to turn the attention away from herself. Methusal turned as Timaeus ran into the room carrying thin strips of leather for Deccia’s sling. He was white around the lips, and his tense expression showed just how worried he was. Methusal and Behran scooted away so he could tend to Deccia.
“What’s going on at the other end of Rolban?” Behran asked, pulling Methusal up by the hand to stand beside him.
“Not as much as here.”
He interrupted. “You’re bleeding!” Dark blood smeared his palm.
“It’s nothing.” A glance decided this. “Only a little cut.” A quick dig through her pocket brought up squashed coltac leaves, which weren’t of much use. “I’ll deal with it later.”
But he gently held her arm up to the light spilling through the doorway before he would agree. “I guess we can’t do much now. Timaeus is out of coltac leaves, too. You say the other passages are pretty much cleared?”
Methusal quickly explained that Verdnt was the traitor and murderer. Deccia gasped.
“I knew Verdnt had done something wrong!” she said. “Before you went to Dehre, Verdnt said something strange. He said that he and Mentàll are friends. Present tense. Like they’re still good friends.
“I didn’t think anything of it. Verdnt had lived in Dehre for a long time, after all. But after he said that, he looked at me kind of oddly and said they used to be friends. Something felt off. I think he knew it. After that he wouldn’t let me out of his sight. Like he’d said something he didn’t want repeated.”
Verdnt’s many deceptions would have to be figured out later.
Quickly, Methusal told them about the situation on the plateau while Timaeus finished tying on Deccia’s sling.
“Aali!” Deccia’s face paled even further. Timaeus gently took her hand in his large, sun darkened one.
“But why would they go to the plateau?” Behran sounded puzzled. “I’d think they’d want to use Aali and Sims as hostages to turn the battle in their favor. What good are hostages on the plateau? The battle is inside.”
“I think I know.” Finally, Methusal understood. “They want to reach the front gate. They’ll show their hostages in full dramatic glory there. But they don’t want to go through the fight in here to reach it. They’d be overwhelmed if they did.”
“I know there’s a path down from the plateau to the plains. It’s by the stream,” Timaeus said. “Is there another path, too?”
“One, but it’s pretty faint, and really steep,” Behran said. “Aali used it to climb to the plateau from her secret passage. Verdnt may know about it, too. Remember, he’s been spending a lot of time on the plateau, and he carried Liem’s body down to the plains. It just depends where the Dehriens want to come down. Aali’s trail comes out closer to Rolban’s main entrance. Verdnt could show them the way, if he knows it.”
The traitor! Methusal’s temper kindled. The murderer. The injustice of it all made her clench her fists. He was despicable. Rolban had accepted him as one of their own. Not only that, but they’d given him the honorable job of teacher, and let him run for Chief.
“We have to do something!” Deccia’s fearful eyes beseeched them all.
“Seven Dehriens to our four,” Behran said. “We can do it if we plan it right, and if you use your kaavl, Thusa.”
“But how?”
“Traps?” Timaeus suggested.
“Don’t forget, one of those seven is Mentàll,” Methusal reminded them. “He won’t be easy to fool. Plus, they all have weapons, and we have none.”
“They’re probably climbing down the cliff now.” Deccia sounded worried. “We’d better hurry up and think of a plan to rescue Aali and Sims.”
None of them spoke the other obvious thought: and save Rolban. The drama of the new hostage situation could distract the Rolbanis from the fight and give the Dehriens a chance to gain the upper hand again. That couldn’t be allowed, regardless of the hostages.
“Let’s go,” Methusal agreed.
“We need a plan, Thusa.” Behran put a restraining hand on her arm. “Let’s throw out ideas.”
“Pop them off one by one as they climb down the cliff,” Methusal suggested promptly. “Someone could throw rocks from Aali’s passage. There’s a great view at the top, and it’s protected.”
“Good. That might get a few Dehriens, if we hurry. What else?”
“We could hide and wait for them outside the entrance, among the rocks,” Deccia suggested. “Maybe throw stones at them first, and then attack them with knives, if we have any.”
“I have one,” Timaeus said.
“Who wants to throw rocks from Aali’s cave?” Behran asked. “We’ll need someone who’s a good shot.”
“I’ll go,” Timaeus spoke up.
“Right. Then after they’re down the cliff, follow and help us out down below, if you can.” Behran pointed. “Aali’s passage is behind a loose board in that closet, Timaeus.”
Timaeus peered into the dark hole, and looked a bit surprised to discover its existence. Before going in, he handed a short, wicked looking dagger to Behran. “I have two. Take this one.”
With a final hand squeeze for Deccia, he wriggled in and his feet quickly slid out of sight.
“When we hide outside,” Methusal said, “we’ll need to stay clear of the Dehriens’ line of vision while they climb down the mountain. I’ll be the scout.”
“Good.” Behran turned to Deccia. “Do you feel up to helping, or would you rather stay here?”
“I’m coming.” Resolve hardened her voice.
“Come on, then.”
The sisters followed Behran to the door. He poked his head out and looked left and right.
“It’s still a mess near the dining hall and down the stairs,” he reported. “We’ll have to make a run for it. Put up your arms to protect your heads.”
The three ran and forced their way into the fray, and were buffeted, almost falling, all the way down the stairs. The Great Hall was a scene of bedlam, too, and they dodged back and forth, speeding for the entrance.
“Over here.” Behran burst outside first. The brilliant, early morning sunlight washed his blond hair gold.
Methusal ducked into the cool shadow of a boulder just to the left of the great gates.
The three crouched and waited to see if anyone would follow them out. No one did. A faint breeze whispered across the cave entrance, swirling up leaves from the ground. Methusal drew a breath of relief.
Behran craned his neck back and looked up the mountain. “I don’t see them. Do you hear anything, Thusa?”
While she strained her ears, directing her focus for the mountain slope on the other side of the gates, Deccia quietly collected together a large pile of rocks and stray sticks.
“They’re about halfway down the other side,” Methusal reported finally, “but too many rocks are falling. I can’t tell if Timaeus has hit any Dehriens yet. I’m going to go hide over there and see what’s happening. I’ll signal back to you.”
“Okay.” The hesitancy in Behran’s voice made her glance up. His blue gaze caught hers and held it for a moment. “Be careful.”
“You, too.” She offered a cheeky grin. She didn’t want to think about the possibility of going up against the Kaavl Master, one on one. Methusal had escaped from him once, but only by the narrowest of margins. The man terrified her.
“Good luck, Thusa.” Deccia touched her arm. Her gaze looked calm, but determined. “We can do this.”
Taking a deep breath, Methusal dashed across Rolban’s entrance and ducked behind a boulder, which was overshadowed by a small ledge. She pressed her back against the rock, hoping Mentàll and the other Dehriens hadn’t seen her.
The strange visual carry she’d experienced in the hall flew to mind. Could she repeat it here? Then she wouldn’t have to poke her head out to see up the mountain.
Concentrating hard, she stared straight ahead at a small rock, which was perched on top of a boulder. If she could just carry visually from that point, she could see right up the cliff…
Nothing happened. She was trying too hard. She needed to relax. In that instant, she knew where Kitran and Mentàll, in all of their strivings for the Ultimate level, had gone wrong. The secret to kaavl wasn’t in manipulating emotions or states of consciousness. It was practice, yes, but even more than that, it was relaxation—lettin
g kaavl flow without restriction through her entire being.
This unexpected insight made her giddy. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Was this what Mahre, the Old Kaavl Master, had learned? Methusal felt like she was on the brink of an incredible discovery, but the scrabble of feet overhead snapped her attention back to the present.
The Dehriens were close. She had to risk it. Carefully, she craned her neck so she could see just past the ledge overhead. There. Even as she looked, a huge rock hit Ludst Lst’s head. He was the messenger who had so cruelly won the Quatr-level in Dehre. He gave a startled cry and fell, tumbling fatally down the steepest, rockiest portion of the cliff.
Now five Dehriens remained, and Aali and Old Sims.
Movement to the left caught her eye. Belatedly remembering her duty, she signaled the information to the others. Behran darted over, but hid closer to the entrance. Now they just needed to wait. She quickly stockpiled stones and stout sticks for weapons. As she listened and waited, she formulated a plan.
Closer…closer. Now! She pulled a kaavl strip from her pocket. They would walk right in front of her. If she could capture the last man without any of the others noticing…
She peered out, glad that she was almost completely concealed on all sides by large boulders. There was just enough room to drag a man into her small space.
Mentàll, Aali, Verdnt, Old Sims, and a Dehrien passed, and she tensed, ready. Another…and her string flicked out, expertly snapping around the last Dehrien’s leg. He fell with a startled “OOoomph!”
She shoved a rock into his mouth and whipped the line around his legs. One, two, three passes. Now for his hands… But as she fumbled for another line, a slight snap sounded behind her and an arm clamped around her neck, jerking her violently up on her tiptoes.
Choking, she grabbed at the steely arm. “Le…”
“Thought you could fool me, Methusal?” The Dehrien Chief’s voice was soft in her ear, and he wrenched her closer. “You can’t hide from me.”
He yanked her between two rocks and out onto the plain. Her toes barely wisped over the ground, “I might not kill you after all. You are much too entertaining. Now, come on!” This jerk was vicious. “You’ll help win me Rolban, fair Methusal.”
Unaware of anything, except for Mentàll’s ore-like arm about her neck, she clawed at his sleeve, straining for a small gulp of life giving air. They had almost reached the gates now, and the world was going gray. Methusal had a brief impression of the Dehriens and hostages watching. Desperately, with all of her strength, she wrenched at his arm.
Finally, a cool draft of air slid down her throat, easing her searing lungs and giving a spark of coherency to her slowed thoughts. Behran and Deccia needed help!
Tears filled her eyes, and she fought desperately, fighting like a wild thing. She had underestimated Mentàll. But he couldn’t win this easily—she wouldn’t let him.
The Dehrien Chief easily subdued her frenzied thrashings by tightening the arm around her neck and clamping a hand on both of her wrists. She gasped. The world swirled, slowly going black. Mentàll shouted something…warnings, maybe, to the Rolbani people, as he carried her inside.
Suddenly everything went very quiet, and Mentàll’s grip loosened, allowing her feet to touch the ground. Greedily, she gulped in great breaths of sweet air. It took a few seconds to take in what was going on around her.
Mentàll was speaking. “As I have told Petr and Erl, Tarst has signed a treaty with Dehre. It gives me complete legal control over Rolban for three weeks. You are illegally fighting and killing my men, who arrived here for peaceful purposes. I am willing to produce the document and discuss the matter with your elders.”
A low murmur broke out. The scene before her looked frozen. Dehriens and Rolbanis alike stood motionless, staring at Mentàll.
Erl Maahr stepped forward. “It is clear you’ve violated the Alliance, Mentàll. We will not honor your new treaty.”
“Oh, but you are mistaken, honorable Erl Maahr. I have not violated the Alliance. Verdnt started the war. That is regrettable. He is a traitor to both you and me.”
Verdnt stared at the Dehrien Chief. His expression was difficult to read. Was it contemptuous? Victorious?
The Dehrien Chief smoothly continued, “I have killed no one. What is more, the Alliance and the new treaty together give me complete legal power to take over Rolban.”
“We’re not honoring a treaty giving you power over Rolban!” Petr Storst roared from the Grand Staircase.
“Then perhaps you will explain to your fellow citizens why you agreed to give me that power, Petr.”
“I agreed to no such thing, Mentàll! You twist my words.” The Rolbani Chief thrust forward, struggling to descend to the Great Hall.
“Stay where you are, Petr.” Mentàll’s voice sounded deadly. “I am prepared to kill Aalicaa, Methusal, and the old man, one by one, should it prove necessary.”
“We won’t stand for this!” Barak strode forward, fists clenched. “Is this the way you win wars? Threatening the lives of women and children?” He spat in contempt. “That is what I think of you. You are not a man at all.”
Methusal felt the sudden rage that tensed her captor. “Stay where you are!” he snarled. To her surprise, the hand holding her wrists loosened for a split second. In that instant she wrenched her wrists free—a childhood defensive move, long forgotten, and yet still automatic. As was her next move.
Quicker than thought, she reached over her head and grasped Mentàll’s wide right shoulder and the sleeve of his tunic. Then she rolled her right shoulder forward, while at the same time bending forward at the waist. The noble Dehrien Chief flipped over her shoulder and landed on his back with a guttural “Ooooooph!”
Chapter Thirty-Five
INSTANT CHAOS ERUPTED, and Rolbanis surged down into the Great Hall.
Methusal found herself lashing a kaavl strip around the gasping Mentàll’s wrists, and another about his feet. A rush came behind her, and then the prick of a knife. Just as suddenly it fell away. She spun to find Behran slugging it out with a cold-faced Dehrien.
To the side, she spotted Deccia clinging to Verdnt’s back, who still held Aalicaa captive. Her good arm was wrapped around his neck, trying to choke him. Even as she watched, his grip loosened and her gritty cousin broke free and spun around to pummel him with her fists. He whipped out a knife, and Methusal gasped in horror.
The next moment seemed to pass in slow motion. Aali’s mouth formed an “O” of horror, Verdnt’s blade arched up…and then Timaeus dove in and threw his hunting blade through the teacher’s heart. Verdnt’s eyes bugged out, and he crumpled to the ground.
“We need to make a plan,” Verdnt bit out.
“Be quiet!” snapped the Dehrien Chief. “Hold them still while I think.”
Methusal’s palms felt sticky with nervous perspiration. She had actually seen down that hall, and it was clear Aali and Old Sims were Dehrien prisoners. She had to do something! But what? Clearly she could not take on seven Dehriens by herself. And Aali and Old Sims wouldn’t be much help. She listened intently. If only she could hear their plan…
“…plateau?”
“Yes, but it’s tricky.” Verdnt’s voice.
“Get moving, then.” Footsteps whispered back down the passage.
They were going to climb up to the croplands. But why? Did they plan to kill Aali and Sims up there? That didn’t make sense.
Methusal gave up trying to figure it out for the time being, because she realized that regardless of Mentàll’s plan, she needed help. And she knew just where to find it. She hoped.
Chapter Thirty-Four
METHUSAL RAN toward the dining hall, kaavl strips in her teeth, and rocks in her hands for protection. Pandemonium reigned in the dining hall, passage, Grand Staircase, and Great Hall. Rocks flew and knives flashed as men fought in hand to hand combat. Screams and hoarse shouts reverberated in the rocky halls. From the number of people up ahead, it looked like at least two dozen Rolbani men had escaped. She didn’t see any women or children, and guessed they were probably still captives in the dining hall.
She crouched low and ducked and twisted among the wrestling throngs of people, heading for her classroom. A flying knife grazed her arm, but she barely felt it. A lunging, slithering crawl between the legs of two fighters, and then she was through, rolling down the narrow passage on the other side of the dining hall.
She leaped into the dark sanctuary of the first classroom, hoping no Dehriens lay in wait for an unwary Rolbani. She hoped, instead, to find friends. If not, she’d use Aali’s passage so she could go help those on the plateau.
“Thusa!” A hoarse whisper caught her attention.
Cautiously, she tiptoed toward Aalicaa’s tunnel, located in the far corner of the room.
“Here.” Behran leaned over Deccia, who lay sprawled against the far wall. In the dim light, her face looked pale.
Horrified, Methusal dropped to her knees. “What happened?”
“She’ll be okay.” Behran’s gaze rested on her for a moment, reassuring her. “Her arm is sprained, and right now Timaeus is finding a sling. She also has a knife wound in her side. It’s not too deep. Timaeus already treated that.”
Methusal was glad that runners always carried healing coltac leaves with them, just like she did. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she anxiously asked her sister.
Deccia offered a wan smile. “I’m fine. But I’m glad Behran got me out of that fight. It’s wild, isn’t it?”
Just like Deccia, to turn the attention away from herself. Methusal turned as Timaeus ran into the room carrying thin strips of leather for Deccia’s sling. He was white around the lips, and his tense expression showed just how worried he was. Methusal and Behran scooted away so he could tend to Deccia.
“What’s going on at the other end of Rolban?” Behran asked, pulling Methusal up by the hand to stand beside him.
“Not as much as here.”
He interrupted. “You’re bleeding!” Dark blood smeared his palm.
“It’s nothing.” A glance decided this. “Only a little cut.” A quick dig through her pocket brought up squashed coltac leaves, which weren’t of much use. “I’ll deal with it later.”
But he gently held her arm up to the light spilling through the doorway before he would agree. “I guess we can’t do much now. Timaeus is out of coltac leaves, too. You say the other passages are pretty much cleared?”
Methusal quickly explained that Verdnt was the traitor and murderer. Deccia gasped.
“I knew Verdnt had done something wrong!” she said. “Before you went to Dehre, Verdnt said something strange. He said that he and Mentàll are friends. Present tense. Like they’re still good friends.
“I didn’t think anything of it. Verdnt had lived in Dehre for a long time, after all. But after he said that, he looked at me kind of oddly and said they used to be friends. Something felt off. I think he knew it. After that he wouldn’t let me out of his sight. Like he’d said something he didn’t want repeated.”
Verdnt’s many deceptions would have to be figured out later.
Quickly, Methusal told them about the situation on the plateau while Timaeus finished tying on Deccia’s sling.
“Aali!” Deccia’s face paled even further. Timaeus gently took her hand in his large, sun darkened one.
“But why would they go to the plateau?” Behran sounded puzzled. “I’d think they’d want to use Aali and Sims as hostages to turn the battle in their favor. What good are hostages on the plateau? The battle is inside.”
“I think I know.” Finally, Methusal understood. “They want to reach the front gate. They’ll show their hostages in full dramatic glory there. But they don’t want to go through the fight in here to reach it. They’d be overwhelmed if they did.”
“I know there’s a path down from the plateau to the plains. It’s by the stream,” Timaeus said. “Is there another path, too?”
“One, but it’s pretty faint, and really steep,” Behran said. “Aali used it to climb to the plateau from her secret passage. Verdnt may know about it, too. Remember, he’s been spending a lot of time on the plateau, and he carried Liem’s body down to the plains. It just depends where the Dehriens want to come down. Aali’s trail comes out closer to Rolban’s main entrance. Verdnt could show them the way, if he knows it.”
The traitor! Methusal’s temper kindled. The murderer. The injustice of it all made her clench her fists. He was despicable. Rolban had accepted him as one of their own. Not only that, but they’d given him the honorable job of teacher, and let him run for Chief.
“We have to do something!” Deccia’s fearful eyes beseeched them all.
“Seven Dehriens to our four,” Behran said. “We can do it if we plan it right, and if you use your kaavl, Thusa.”
“But how?”
“Traps?” Timaeus suggested.
“Don’t forget, one of those seven is Mentàll,” Methusal reminded them. “He won’t be easy to fool. Plus, they all have weapons, and we have none.”
“They’re probably climbing down the cliff now.” Deccia sounded worried. “We’d better hurry up and think of a plan to rescue Aali and Sims.”
None of them spoke the other obvious thought: and save Rolban. The drama of the new hostage situation could distract the Rolbanis from the fight and give the Dehriens a chance to gain the upper hand again. That couldn’t be allowed, regardless of the hostages.
“Let’s go,” Methusal agreed.
“We need a plan, Thusa.” Behran put a restraining hand on her arm. “Let’s throw out ideas.”
“Pop them off one by one as they climb down the cliff,” Methusal suggested promptly. “Someone could throw rocks from Aali’s passage. There’s a great view at the top, and it’s protected.”
“Good. That might get a few Dehriens, if we hurry. What else?”
“We could hide and wait for them outside the entrance, among the rocks,” Deccia suggested. “Maybe throw stones at them first, and then attack them with knives, if we have any.”
“I have one,” Timaeus said.
“Who wants to throw rocks from Aali’s cave?” Behran asked. “We’ll need someone who’s a good shot.”
“I’ll go,” Timaeus spoke up.
“Right. Then after they’re down the cliff, follow and help us out down below, if you can.” Behran pointed. “Aali’s passage is behind a loose board in that closet, Timaeus.”
Timaeus peered into the dark hole, and looked a bit surprised to discover its existence. Before going in, he handed a short, wicked looking dagger to Behran. “I have two. Take this one.”
With a final hand squeeze for Deccia, he wriggled in and his feet quickly slid out of sight.
“When we hide outside,” Methusal said, “we’ll need to stay clear of the Dehriens’ line of vision while they climb down the mountain. I’ll be the scout.”
“Good.” Behran turned to Deccia. “Do you feel up to helping, or would you rather stay here?”
“I’m coming.” Resolve hardened her voice.
“Come on, then.”
The sisters followed Behran to the door. He poked his head out and looked left and right.
“It’s still a mess near the dining hall and down the stairs,” he reported. “We’ll have to make a run for it. Put up your arms to protect your heads.”
The three ran and forced their way into the fray, and were buffeted, almost falling, all the way down the stairs. The Great Hall was a scene of bedlam, too, and they dodged back and forth, speeding for the entrance.
“Over here.” Behran burst outside first. The brilliant, early morning sunlight washed his blond hair gold.
Methusal ducked into the cool shadow of a boulder just to the left of the great gates.
The three crouched and waited to see if anyone would follow them out. No one did. A faint breeze whispered across the cave entrance, swirling up leaves from the ground. Methusal drew a breath of relief.
Behran craned his neck back and looked up the mountain. “I don’t see them. Do you hear anything, Thusa?”
While she strained her ears, directing her focus for the mountain slope on the other side of the gates, Deccia quietly collected together a large pile of rocks and stray sticks.
“They’re about halfway down the other side,” Methusal reported finally, “but too many rocks are falling. I can’t tell if Timaeus has hit any Dehriens yet. I’m going to go hide over there and see what’s happening. I’ll signal back to you.”
“Okay.” The hesitancy in Behran’s voice made her glance up. His blue gaze caught hers and held it for a moment. “Be careful.”
“You, too.” She offered a cheeky grin. She didn’t want to think about the possibility of going up against the Kaavl Master, one on one. Methusal had escaped from him once, but only by the narrowest of margins. The man terrified her.
“Good luck, Thusa.” Deccia touched her arm. Her gaze looked calm, but determined. “We can do this.”
Taking a deep breath, Methusal dashed across Rolban’s entrance and ducked behind a boulder, which was overshadowed by a small ledge. She pressed her back against the rock, hoping Mentàll and the other Dehriens hadn’t seen her.
The strange visual carry she’d experienced in the hall flew to mind. Could she repeat it here? Then she wouldn’t have to poke her head out to see up the mountain.
Concentrating hard, she stared straight ahead at a small rock, which was perched on top of a boulder. If she could just carry visually from that point, she could see right up the cliff…
Nothing happened. She was trying too hard. She needed to relax. In that instant, she knew where Kitran and Mentàll, in all of their strivings for the Ultimate level, had gone wrong. The secret to kaavl wasn’t in manipulating emotions or states of consciousness. It was practice, yes, but even more than that, it was relaxation—lettin
g kaavl flow without restriction through her entire being.
This unexpected insight made her giddy. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Was this what Mahre, the Old Kaavl Master, had learned? Methusal felt like she was on the brink of an incredible discovery, but the scrabble of feet overhead snapped her attention back to the present.
The Dehriens were close. She had to risk it. Carefully, she craned her neck so she could see just past the ledge overhead. There. Even as she looked, a huge rock hit Ludst Lst’s head. He was the messenger who had so cruelly won the Quatr-level in Dehre. He gave a startled cry and fell, tumbling fatally down the steepest, rockiest portion of the cliff.
Now five Dehriens remained, and Aali and Old Sims.
Movement to the left caught her eye. Belatedly remembering her duty, she signaled the information to the others. Behran darted over, but hid closer to the entrance. Now they just needed to wait. She quickly stockpiled stones and stout sticks for weapons. As she listened and waited, she formulated a plan.
Closer…closer. Now! She pulled a kaavl strip from her pocket. They would walk right in front of her. If she could capture the last man without any of the others noticing…
She peered out, glad that she was almost completely concealed on all sides by large boulders. There was just enough room to drag a man into her small space.
Mentàll, Aali, Verdnt, Old Sims, and a Dehrien passed, and she tensed, ready. Another…and her string flicked out, expertly snapping around the last Dehrien’s leg. He fell with a startled “OOoomph!”
She shoved a rock into his mouth and whipped the line around his legs. One, two, three passes. Now for his hands… But as she fumbled for another line, a slight snap sounded behind her and an arm clamped around her neck, jerking her violently up on her tiptoes.
Choking, she grabbed at the steely arm. “Le…”
“Thought you could fool me, Methusal?” The Dehrien Chief’s voice was soft in her ear, and he wrenched her closer. “You can’t hide from me.”
He yanked her between two rocks and out onto the plain. Her toes barely wisped over the ground, “I might not kill you after all. You are much too entertaining. Now, come on!” This jerk was vicious. “You’ll help win me Rolban, fair Methusal.”
Unaware of anything, except for Mentàll’s ore-like arm about her neck, she clawed at his sleeve, straining for a small gulp of life giving air. They had almost reached the gates now, and the world was going gray. Methusal had a brief impression of the Dehriens and hostages watching. Desperately, with all of her strength, she wrenched at his arm.
Finally, a cool draft of air slid down her throat, easing her searing lungs and giving a spark of coherency to her slowed thoughts. Behran and Deccia needed help!
Tears filled her eyes, and she fought desperately, fighting like a wild thing. She had underestimated Mentàll. But he couldn’t win this easily—she wouldn’t let him.
The Dehrien Chief easily subdued her frenzied thrashings by tightening the arm around her neck and clamping a hand on both of her wrists. She gasped. The world swirled, slowly going black. Mentàll shouted something…warnings, maybe, to the Rolbani people, as he carried her inside.
Suddenly everything went very quiet, and Mentàll’s grip loosened, allowing her feet to touch the ground. Greedily, she gulped in great breaths of sweet air. It took a few seconds to take in what was going on around her.
Mentàll was speaking. “As I have told Petr and Erl, Tarst has signed a treaty with Dehre. It gives me complete legal control over Rolban for three weeks. You are illegally fighting and killing my men, who arrived here for peaceful purposes. I am willing to produce the document and discuss the matter with your elders.”
A low murmur broke out. The scene before her looked frozen. Dehriens and Rolbanis alike stood motionless, staring at Mentàll.
Erl Maahr stepped forward. “It is clear you’ve violated the Alliance, Mentàll. We will not honor your new treaty.”
“Oh, but you are mistaken, honorable Erl Maahr. I have not violated the Alliance. Verdnt started the war. That is regrettable. He is a traitor to both you and me.”
Verdnt stared at the Dehrien Chief. His expression was difficult to read. Was it contemptuous? Victorious?
The Dehrien Chief smoothly continued, “I have killed no one. What is more, the Alliance and the new treaty together give me complete legal power to take over Rolban.”
“We’re not honoring a treaty giving you power over Rolban!” Petr Storst roared from the Grand Staircase.
“Then perhaps you will explain to your fellow citizens why you agreed to give me that power, Petr.”
“I agreed to no such thing, Mentàll! You twist my words.” The Rolbani Chief thrust forward, struggling to descend to the Great Hall.
“Stay where you are, Petr.” Mentàll’s voice sounded deadly. “I am prepared to kill Aalicaa, Methusal, and the old man, one by one, should it prove necessary.”
“We won’t stand for this!” Barak strode forward, fists clenched. “Is this the way you win wars? Threatening the lives of women and children?” He spat in contempt. “That is what I think of you. You are not a man at all.”
Methusal felt the sudden rage that tensed her captor. “Stay where you are!” he snarled. To her surprise, the hand holding her wrists loosened for a split second. In that instant she wrenched her wrists free—a childhood defensive move, long forgotten, and yet still automatic. As was her next move.
Quicker than thought, she reached over her head and grasped Mentàll’s wide right shoulder and the sleeve of his tunic. Then she rolled her right shoulder forward, while at the same time bending forward at the waist. The noble Dehrien Chief flipped over her shoulder and landed on his back with a guttural “Ooooooph!”
Chapter Thirty-Five
INSTANT CHAOS ERUPTED, and Rolbanis surged down into the Great Hall.
Methusal found herself lashing a kaavl strip around the gasping Mentàll’s wrists, and another about his feet. A rush came behind her, and then the prick of a knife. Just as suddenly it fell away. She spun to find Behran slugging it out with a cold-faced Dehrien.
To the side, she spotted Deccia clinging to Verdnt’s back, who still held Aalicaa captive. Her good arm was wrapped around his neck, trying to choke him. Even as she watched, his grip loosened and her gritty cousin broke free and spun around to pummel him with her fists. He whipped out a knife, and Methusal gasped in horror.
The next moment seemed to pass in slow motion. Aali’s mouth formed an “O” of horror, Verdnt’s blade arched up…and then Timaeus dove in and threw his hunting blade through the teacher’s heart. Verdnt’s eyes bugged out, and he crumpled to the ground.
