Heir of Hope (Follower of the Word Book 3) Read online

  Nierne breathed. In. Out. A weak light appeared at the end of a long dark cave.

  So tired . . . of the dark . . . and the heat.

  She lifted herself off the ground and crawled toward the light. Wait— Why am I crawling . . . ? The thought faded. She didn’t care. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but the light.

  The light expanded. Just beyond the cave were trees and patches of sunlight.

  She stopped again. Why can’t I hear anything? The thought faded. Just the light. She just needed to get to the light.

  Nierne crawled forward. Her heart stirred inside her. Life was out there, and she wanted it. The entrance was now only a few feet away. Almost there. She crawled faster. At the threshold, she held out her hand . . .

  She opened her eyes. The cave and entrance vanished. Instead, dull grey fabric hung above her.

  “Welcome back to the land of the living.”

  Nierne clutched the blanket to her chest and looked over.

  A woman sat at a table across from her, smiling. They were inside a small tent.

  But . . . the last thing she remembered, she and Caleb and Lore were traveling across the Great Desert.

  “Who are you?” Nierne glanced around again. Tent flaps moved gently with the wind down at her feet. Canvas sacks hung from a pole near her head. “And where am I?”

  “You are at Merida, oasis of the Great Desert. I am Thamina, healer for Balthazar’s tribe.”

  Nierne shook her head and closed her eyes. Was she still dreaming? “Where is Caleb? And Lore?”

  “Caleb is meeting with Balthazar. I’m afraid I do not know who Lore is.”

  Her mouth went dry. Had they been captured? Was Lore dead?

  She threw back the blanket. She needed to find them. She needed to know what was going on.

  “Wait! You’ve just recovered fr—”

  Nierne ignored the woman and stood. She held out her hands and swayed slightly.

  The woman stood as well and reached for her. “You shouldn’t move yet, you’ve only jus—”

  Nierne pushed past her. I have to get out of here. She stumbled toward the tent flaps. Sand cushioned her steps. Sand. Was she still in the desert?

  She pushed back the flaps and stepped outside. The sun blinded her. She blinked and held a hand up to her eyes. Palm trees and small brush surrounded her. Light reflected off the surface of water beyond the trees. Sand covered the ground. What was this place?

  “Nierne!”

  She turned and let out a small sob. “Caleb!”

  He came running. Behind him were more tents, all grouped together.

  She took a shaky step toward him, tears prickling her eyes. Oh Word, at least he was still here. “Where are we? Who are these people?”

  Caleb caught her by the waist. “What are you doing out here?”

  She fell against him and looked up. “I-I don’t feel so good.”

  He looked over her shoulder. “Thamina, what the sands are you doing letting her leave that tent?”

  “I didn’t let her leave my tent.” A shadow appeared on the ground beside them.

  Nierne looked over and found the woman from the tent.

  The woman glared at Nierne, then at Caleb. “She walked out on her own two legs.”

  “And you let her?”

  “I was just coming to take her back.”

  Caleb growled. Not a good sign. “I will take her back.” He looked down at Nierne. “You shouldn’t be up. You’ve just recovered from desert fever and need to rest.” With one motion, he scooped her up. “You’re going back to the healer’s tent.”

  She didn’t even bother protesting. She felt as weak as a newborn kitten. “Desert fever?”

  “You’ve been very sick for the last couple days. You don’t remember?”

  “No.” She laid her head against his chest. All she could remember was the heat and darkness. And the nightmares.

  Thamina moved toward the tent and held back the flaps, a dark look on her face.

  Caleb glared back. “I’ll talk to you after I place Nierne back down.”

  “She barely left the tent, Caleb.”

  Nierne frowned. The woman knew Caleb by name.

  Caleb placed her down on the pile of blankets inside the tent and looked back. “Nierne needs rest.”

  Thamina put her hands on her hips. “She also needed reassurance. She woke up in place she did not recognize. She needed to see you.”

  Caleb pulled a thin blanket up across Nierne. “I was nearby. You could have called out.”

  “If you didn’t notice, I was going after her.”

  Nierne grabbed his hand. “Caleb, it’s fine. I just needed to see you.”

  He paused and stared at her.

  “See, I told you she needed to see you,” Thamina said from the tent entrance.

  Caleb closed his eyes and breathed in through his nose.

  “Where are we?” Nierne hoped to distract him from the woman.

  He opened his eyes. “Merida. An oasis here in the Great Desert.”

  “And Lore?”

  “He’s fine.”

  “Are we . . . safe?” Her gaze darted to Thamina.

  “Yes. These are my mother’s people.”

  “Your mother?” Nierne closed her eyes and sighed. “Apparently I missed a lot while I was sick.”

  “Yes, but everything is fine now.”

  “Caleb?” She kept her eyes shut.

  “Yes?”

  “Don’t fight with her. Don’t fight with Thamina.”

  “I’m not fighting.”

  “I needed to see you.”

  “I never left you.”

  There seemed to be more to his words, but Nierne was too tired to figure it out.

  His hand took hers and gave it a quick squeeze. His fingers were warm, slender, and strong.

  “Thank you, for not leaving me.”

  Caleb didn’t answer. Instead, he squeezed again and let go.

  She slipped away.

  Caleb emerged from the tent.

  Thamina stood nearby, her arms folded. “She will still need to rest for a couple more days before you continue on wherever you were heading.”

  “Yes, I know. But if you can’t keep her in your tent, then Nierne comes with me.”

  “I don’t tie down my patients.”

  Caleb grunted and turned to head back to his own camp.

  “By the way, where are you heading?”

  “That is none of your business.”

  Thamina caught up to him. “But maybe I can help.”

  “Help? How?” Caleb kept going.

  “You really don’t recognize me, do you?”

  He stopped and turned around. It was hard to see past his annoyance with the young healer. “No.”

  “We knew each other as children.”

  Caleb raised an eyebrow. He rarely spent time thinking upon his past, especially his childhood. “All right.” He folded his arms and studied her. “Who are you?”

  “Balthazar’s daughter.”

  He shook his head. He still didn’t recognize her.

  Thamina sighed. “We would play together when your mother brought you to visit. And you’re still just as bossy as you were then.”

  “That was a long time ago.” Caleb turned and started through the trees.

  “I’ve followed your lifepath. Even after you reached manhood.”

  “And?”

  “I heard about your mother. I understand why you reacted the way you did to the young woman’s desert fever.”

  Sands, did Thamina think he wanted sympathy? Caleb kept right on going. Still . . .”How did a high chief’s daughter become a healer?” He looked back. “The position seems a bit beneath you.”

&nbs
p; “When my brother died, I wanted to help others. Times have changed here in the Great Desert. I can help my people more by healing than I could by an arranged bonding.”

  Caleb smirked. Balthazar probably couldn’t say no to his daughter either.

  “I heard you were part of the war in the North.”

  He grew cold again. If they knew about his part in the north, did they also know about his exile? About the price on his head? Gold like that could feed this tribe for a year. His hand slid to the dagger at his side. What else did Thamina know? “Yes. I was.”

  “How did a Temanin prince end up in that war?”

  “Long story.”

  “You seem to be filled with long stories.”

  He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “Yes, I guess I am.” Old tactics came rushing back. Subtle ways to get information. Thamina was too open, too curious. In his hands, she would give him everything he wanted. And more.

  I can’t use her that way. I’m not that man any more.

  But what if they knew? What if they planned on turning him in? He needed to save himself. And Nierne.

  Word, help me.

  Caleb realized he hadn’t heard what Thamina had said. They were near the end of the tents. Was she going to follow him all the way back to his own camp?

  She stopped and folded her arms. “You don’t scare me, Caleb.”

  He looked back. “Then you don’t know me as well as you think.”

  Lore looked up from the wooden rack set up against a tree. Strips of meat lay longwise along the rack, drying in the sun. “What was that about?”

  Caleb glanced over his shoulder. Thamina had turned around and headed back to the tent. Good. She had a patient to care for. “You mean Thamina?”

  “Is that her name? Yes.”

  “I think we have a problem.” The seriousness in his voice must have alerted Lore.

  “Let me wash my hands.” Lore walked over to the spring and dipped his hands in twice. He wiped them on the cloak tied around his waist. “Now.” He turned back around. “What is the problem?”

  Caleb stood and watched the people beyond the trees, moving between the tents. If it was just him, he knew what he would do—get information and run. Look out for himself. Just like he did that night in Avonai, when he left those other men. Alone, he could travel fast. Alone, he could protect himself and live.

  Alone.

  Caleb walked over to the rack of meat and pretended to inspect the food. “There is a possibility these people know about the reward Corin is offering for me if I set foot back in Temanin.”

  Lore joined him and turned a strip of meat over. “So you think they might capture you and drag you back to Azar?” He snorted. “I would like to see them try.”

  Caleb shrugged. “Many men I know would have no problem taking me back. I have a feeling Corin would rather execute me than see me still free.”

  “So why did he exile you? I never understood why there is a price on your head if he exiled you.”

  “He had to let me go first. It’s a family thing. Give me a chance to run before hauling me back and killing me. Lets him save face with the council.”

  Lore shook his head. “So you think Balthazar might be planning something?”

  “No. But I want to be ready, just in case.”

  Lore looked back at Balthazar’s camp. “What do you propose we do?”

  “Pack our things. But don’t make it look like we are leaving. Nierne still needs rest, and I want to give her as much time as I can. There is a feast tonight around the spirit fire. We will go to that. Perhaps I can find out some information.” Without compromising who I am.

  Lore turned another strip of meat over. “Spirit fire? What is that?”

  “There are many religious beliefs in Temanin. Thamina referred to Mirelukahn and the spirit fire. I think Balthazar’s tribe follows the healing goddess. Or perhaps only Thamina does. I don’t know. Before the Word, I didn’t follow anything except gold and women. My cousin worshipped power. I guess we all follow something or another.”

  Lore nodded, his face thoughtful.

  “I will keep an eye on Balthazar and his people. Hopefully nothing will happen. But if something does, you need to be ready the moment I say run. Understand?”

  “Sounds like a good plan to me. I almost have enough meat to last us a while.”

  “Good. Because where we are heading, there will be little to eat.”

  Chapter

  18

  Thamina reminded Nierne of Father Karl, only less gruff and more talkative. Always moving. Busy writing, or crushing herbs, or straightening the stuff inside the tent.

  Nierne watched her from the makeshift bed made of blankets spread out across the sand floor. Thamina was now sitting at her table, scribbling more words across the half rolled parchment.

  “What are you writing?”

  Thamina looked up, puzzled. Then she saw Nierne. The woman had forgotten she was here.

  “Actually, I’m not writing.” She held up the parchment. Instead of letters scrawled across the parchment, it was a picture of a plant. The plant stemmed from one root, then separated into a dozen long, lean spikes with fluted flowers at each tip. “This is a drawing of a particular plant found west of here in the Great Desert. It is used to help with stomach pain. I hope that my drawings can help other healers not familiar with desert fauna.”

  “It is really good. I’ve never drawn anything myself. My skill is more in the area of script and calligraphy.”

  “Yes, I thought as much. Caleb said you are a scribe from the Monastery.” Thamina tapped her quill against the table. “Tell me, how did a woman become a scribe? I’ve heard it is an honor only given to men.”

  Nierne nodded. “Yes, you are correct. There are very few women who become scribes. I was left at the Monastery at a young age. One of the fathers chose to train me in the ways of the scribe. I would have taken my vow a couple months ago, except . . .”

  “Your vows?”

  “Yes. If, after training, a person wishes to stay with the Monastery, a vow of celibacy and dedication is taken.”

  “A scribe can never bond?”

  “No, not one who has taken the vow.”

  Thamina continued to tap the table with her quill. “But there are some scribes who do not take the vow?”

  “Yes. Some, after training, choose to leave the Monastery for other professions. Or for love.”

  “And you have not taken your vow yet?”

  “No. I would have, but then . . .”

  Thamina looked at her inquisitively.

  “Then Thyra fell.”

  Thamina stopped tapping, her quill poised just above the table. “You were there in Thyra? What happened? We’ve heard stories, but no one ventures into Kerre anymore. There are whispers of shadows that consume people and dark men who live in the tower. Are those stories true?”

  Nierne looked away, her throat tight and dry. Her nightmares came rushing back. The empty streets of Thyra, trying to get back into the Monastery, the shadow coming to consume her.

  “Why are you going back?”

  Why indeed?

  Lore was heading to Thyra to find Rowen. Caleb wanted to find out more about himself.

  But why was she going back? She had done what she and Father Reth had set out to do—to find the Eldarans and bring them back.

  Well, there was an Eldaran there now, and another one on the way. Her job was done. But if she didn’t return to Thyra, where would she go? What would she do? The only skill she possessed was writing.

  Perhaps there was more. She knew hidden ways to get into Thyra. She knew a little of the outlying lands. And . . . she couldn’t imagine leaving her companions, at least not yet.

  She wasn’t ready to be alone.

  Nierne looked up. “I�
��m going back to Thyra to finish what I started. I left to find help. And I did. And now I am returning.” She wasn’t about to reveal Caleb’s secret.

  Thamina laughed. “Help? Who? Caleb?” She turned more serious. “I don’t know you, Nierne. But I know some things about Caleb. He may not be the man you think you know.”

  Nierne smiled. Thamina had no idea.

  Nierne sat a couple feet away from the spirit fire. Flames and smoke stretched up toward the black sky. The fire’s heat spread across her face and front. The rest of her was covered by a thick, wool blanket. The scent of roasted meat and spices filled the air.

  Tents surrounded the bonfire, but far enough away so that a stray spark could not catch on the fabric. People moved in and out of the tents, bringing food or more blankets for the feast. Beyond the fire’s light, the bleat of sheep and neigh of horses echoed in the darkness.

  “Here.”

  Nierne looked up and to her right.

  Caleb squatted beside her and held out a ceramic cup. “Something to drink.”

  “What is it?”

  “Spiced wine.”

  She took the cup, which was warm in her hands, and sniffed. The dark red drink smelled like cherries and a spice she didn’t recognize—sweet, yet tart. She blew on its surface, then took a sip. Yes, sweet, then tart. And warm. The warmth flowed down her throat and into her belly.

  “Do you like it?”

  “Yes. I’ve never had anything like it.”

  “I thought you might enjoy a warm drink on a cold night like this.”

  She took another sip, savoring the warmth flooding her body. Caleb left, disappearing somewhere past the tents. She watched the fire dance between the logs. How different this evening was compared to her quiet, solitary life back in the Monastery. A cold, autumn night like this would have been spent in the library beside the fireplace, talking quietly with the other scribes or fathers, or reading a book.

  Nierne sighed and took another sip. Those days were long gone. Would she find anything left of the Monastery or her order? Were any of the fathers still alive? Any of her fellow scribes? Was the Monastery even still standing?