understand how there can be a White Jewel when the Black has always ruled."

Phila snorted. "Decans ago, White was held by the Queen. Then the Brotherhood created the Black.

During a battle between the Jewels, the White Holder was sorely wounded. She hid the Jewel and no one has seen it since that day. So where do we go?"

"Ye will learn tomorrow," Reena said. "This time there will be no doubt about which Jewel is supreme."

Lippa cackled. "Do not be so sure." She signaled her servant. "Come, I must prepare my carriage."

"We ride," Reena said.

"Foolish girl," Lippa said. "Do ye expect two ancient women to ride?"

Reena clenched the Black. "Ye can be replaced."

"Not as easily as ye think. Though age brings weakened bodies, it also brings cunning minds. I wielded

my Jewel before ye were born and know more than ye about these gems."

Waika's cackle reached Reena's ears. "Mayhaps we will hold when ye are gone."

Reena straightened her spine and held her anger close. "If we do not work together, we will lose."

"See that ye remember that, my Queen." The door closed behind the elderly woman.

Reena glared at the Orange and Violet Holders. "Are ye opposed to riding?"

Phila smiled. "I have no problems with the thought of being ahorse after my confinement here. As ye know, I have complete control of all living beasts."

"As long as the horse is gentle, I can ride," Gila said.

"Be ready to leave at dawn."

Phila saluted. "Will the hags be ready that early?"

"The Guards will see they are."

Reena watched the pair depart. A plan that had been swirling, fragmented, in her mind, crystallized. Once the White was destroyed, she would shatter the other Jewels. She would be sole ruler of Earda.

* * * At dawn, the Guards a.s.sembled in the square before the palace. Reena walked among the orderly rows and then checked the wagons of supplies. Along the route to the Screaming Hills, food and shelter would be provided by the people of the farms, villages and towns. The wagons carried provisions for the camp on the plains near the Hills. The latest reports claimed the area was desolate. Gregor stood with a cl.u.s.ter of mages. Their steeds were great black beasts with blood red horns. Six mages and Gregor was the seventh. Did he plan to seize the Holders during the battle and somehow control their Jewels? She would not permit that, as he would learn.

She looked for the Red and Green Holder's carriages. Her hands formed fists for they had not arrived. She spotted the Captains of the double five decans and strode toward them.

"The Screaming Hills," one said. "Let's hope we find a horde of rebels to slaughter. There's nothing like a battle to stir men."

"'Tis not a good place for a battle. The Hills form a half circle around the plain. If the rebels have archers stationed on the palisades, we will be the ones facing defeat. Who was the fool who chose that place?"

Reena stepped into view. "Ye dare call your Queen a fool? I name ye a traitor. Take him to the stockade and inform your Commandant a new five decan Captain is needed."

Gregor grasped her shoulder. "My Queen, are ye sure this is wise?" The pressure eased and he gently stroked.

"I will have no captains who will not obey orders. Where are the Red and Green Holders?"

"Haven't they arrived?"

"Send Guards to escort them here. Though I've given them permission to ride in comfort, I did not give them leave to dawdle."

He bowed. "I hear and obey, My Queen. What punishment should the Guards mete to those who rioted in the market yesterday?"

"Keep the leaders in the stockade. When we return, they will learn what fate awaits traitors."

"And the captain?"

Reena smiled. "Have him brought to the market square. He will make a perfect example of what happens to those who rebel against the Queen."

"As ye wish." He slid his hand down her arm. "Ye are a better pupil than your mother, but there are things other than the use of power and the control of your Jewel that I would show ye."

Something in his gaze and his voice made her wish to reconsider her decision to have him on the journey. She couldn't order him to remain in Pala. To do so would let him know she feared him and he would use that knowledge for his own ends.

"I will meet ye in the market square."

Reena strode to her horse and mounted. She nodded to the Orange and Violet Holders. Then she signaled the Commandant.

"Company to your horses!" the man shouted.

Reena's personal Guards rode at her side with the rest of the company following. The lead honor Guard bore the banner that announced her presence with the troop. People lined the walkways leading to the market square. She heard their whispered comments.

"She is much like her mother in appearance."

"Nay, she is more beautiful."

Reena smiled. Perhaps she had her people's hearts.

In the center of the square, she halted. "Bring the prisoner."

The Guard captain, stripped of his officer's tunic, was marched through the ranks. His hands were bound behind his back.

"Behold the traitor." Gregor's deep voice rang out. "Watch his punishment carefully and see what comes to those who defy our Queen." He released the man and walked to his horse.

Silence and foreboding hovered in the air. Reena raised the Black and focused her anger through the gem. Black rays touched the prisoner. His body jerked and convulsed. He fell to the ground to writhe in a grotesque dance.

Reena lowered the Jewel. Her arms trembled. The Jewel cried for a communion that she denied.

Gregor rode to her side. "Ye did not kill him."

She met his gaze. "He is broken. There is no need for death." She kneed her mount and raised her hand to signal the troop to move.

CHAPTER 28.

From The Armsmen's Guide A good head armsman knows his men's capabilities and lets he who has experience in an unfamiliar situation take the lead.

Though his body told him 'twas still day, something woke Brader. He moved to the tent opening. An ominous darkness filled the sky. The balalas squealed. The sound shot through his head with the force of a sword thrust.

"Valmir," he called.

The Desert Rider leapt to his feel. "Sandstorm. Nalor, Andalor, take down the tent. I'll circle the balalas. We must take shelter behind them and use the tents as a cover. Sand driven by the wind can scour flesh from bones."

Brader woke the women. When he told them what they must do, he saw panic in Disa's eyes. He wanted to stay at her side, but he had to help Valmir with the balalas and the supplies.

"Ye will be fine." He touched Disa's cheek. "I will not let harm come to ye."

She nodded. "I will not panic.

The cloud came closer. Bits of sand stung his face.

"To your balalas!" Valmir shouted. "We have no time to worry about the rest of the supplies!"

Brader knelt beside his balala and grabbed the edge of the tent from Valmir. "Are we all here?"

"Aye," Valmir said.

The roar of the wind cut off all sound. Weight pressed on Brader. The air grew heated. He thought of Disa's fear and wished he held her in his arms.

Did she know what lay between them? He would have pledged his life to her but for the one she owed Andalor. He turned his thoughts from what might have been and concentrated on the present. How long would the storm last? He hadn't asked nor had Valmir said. How would they know when they could emerge from the covering?

The balala stirred. Brader grasped the beast's rough coat. Like a cork pulled from a wine keg, the balala rose and pulled Brader from the sand. He gulped deep breaths of air.

Moments later, in the same manner, Nalor emerged. "Ho, Brader, where are the others?"

"Buried as we were. Check near the balalas." Brader went to Disa's cream-colored mount and began to dig. When he pulled the tent panel away from her, he lifted her into his arms. Her body trembled and her amber eyes were unfocused. "Disa, 'tis Brader. Ye are alive."

A shuddering breath escaped. "Brader. I would..." She shook her head. "I cannot..."

"'Tis all right. The time for us will come. Let's join the others." They crossed the sand to Valmir. "What should we do now?" Brader asked. "We dig for the supplies." * * * They spent the rest of the day digging for the buried items and uncovered most of the essentials. The sun heated the sands until they were forced to retreat to the tents. Brader sat with his empty sheath across his knees. This was the last of the things he'd brought from the High Sanctuary and though now useless, since his sword lay buried beneath the sands, he didn't want to discard it. Mayhaps another storm would uncover the blade. He tied the scabbard to his pack. "What do we do about the missing balalas?" he asked Valmir.

"We will not find them," Valmir said. "We'll divide the supplies. We're lucky the riding beasts didn't take flight as well. We are but a half tenday from the ruins I told ye about. We can replenish our water there."

"And food?"

"We might find some small game, but we'll have to do with what we have. If we're careful, there should be enough to last until we reach the Hills."

Brader felt uneasy. His skills were those of an armsman. He understood weapons and how to post guards around a caravan or a merchant's house. He knew nothing about survival on the desert.

"And if the water of this place is tainted?"

"Never has that happened. 'Tis said the Ladies of the Jewels lived there and their magic remains." Valmir leaned against one of the large waterskins. "I went into the Hills once. In places, they are tall like the walls of a city. They rise from the sands, but there are places where ye can make your way easily. They are full of life. I ventured along a path beside a stream and hunted until the screams drove me away."

"So they really scream." "Aye, and the sound fills your head and throbs in your blood." * * * First Moon had risen. Brader helped Valmir distribute the supplies among the remaining balalas. Nalor and Andalor emerged from the tent. "Come and help," Brader called.

Andalor headed toward the fire. "Why should I speed the journey? The longer we take, the better for my Queen."

"And the worse for us," Brader said. "What will happen to your Queen if ye should die?"

Andalor changed direction. Brader wasn't sure what the expression on the minstrel's face meant. Was the Queen in some kind of danger if Andalor died? Brader hoped so. By the rise of Second Moon, they were headed across the sands. Moonlight glinted on the pale ground. The never-ending scenery cast a spell. Not long after daybreak, they stopped, erected the tents and ate a stew of dried fruit thickened with ryn flour. Sometimes Brader felt as though he moved through a dream. Each day brought the same scenery and the same routine.

Ride, eat, sleep, eat, and ride.

* * * Brader jerked awake and saw Andalor at the tent opening. "Where are ye going?" "To relieve myself," Andalor said. "I'll go with ye." Andalor laughed. "I need no help." "That's not why I'll follow ye. Ye will not foul our water or harm the remaining balalas." "Ye cannot stay at my side forever. My duty is to the Queen." "And mine to Liara." "Just remember, Reena holds the ruling Jewel. Liara is naught but a rover with no home, no Jewel, and no army to back her." "No army will be needed." Brader's hands formed fists and he held back the urge to attack the minstrel. That would not do and might delay them, the way he had delayed them when he attacked Valmir. "What about the songs ye sing in praise of the White Jewel?" Brader asked. "I've even sung the one that starts 'White is the color of the true Queen's Jewel." "A myth, and though myths are often based on truth, this one belongs to a fantasy created by those who want to seize the power for themselves." "Liara has no need for power. If what ye say is true, why are ye with us and trying to keep us from our journey's end? If ye believe we are on a fool's trek into the unknown, ye shouldn't fear what we may find."

Andalor shook his head. "I fear a different thing. Though her hair is ebon, Liara is a near twin to Reena. She could slip into Reena's shoes and who but a Chosen would know the difference?" Brader whirled the minstrel to face him. "Liara would never touch the Black. 'Twould sicken her to feel the evil. She seeks to restore balance in the land." Andalor pulled away and stalked to the tent. When Brader returned, the minstrel lay with his eyes closed.

That night, Brader noticed some dark and jagged forms against the sky. How far, he wondered. 'Twas hard to judge distance with the flatness of the land. Two nights later, they reached the ruins. He saw there had once been seven towers connected with walkways. He saw spots of greenery that meant water. Then he saw the three circular pools, one set above the other, with waterfalls joining them. As they pa.s.sed through an arch that remained, though the walls had fallen, he saw a glyph denoting the Yellow Jewel.

Disa rode beside him. "This must have been a rainbow palace. Look at the shattered stones. They are the color of the Jewels."

"The pools reflect the sun and the moons," Liara said. "What a lovely place. And look, there's a patch of plump briarberries."

Valmir nodded. "And with luck, we'll find some wild bantas and a coney or two."

"Should I test ye as I was tested?" Valmir asked.

Brader shook his head. "I'll bathe, but no tests until the quest ends."

While the others sported in the pools, Brader explored the tower of the Yellow. What had it been like when people instead of ghosts walked the halls? He found a set of stairs that wound around the outside of the tower wall. At the top of the stairs, he entered a room. A shattered window had allowed sand to drift into the room. He knelt on a stone chest and stared toward the Hills that rose in the distance.

When he rose, the stone shifted. He pushed it aside and looked inside. A portrait of two girls; one of them looked just like Liara, except the painting was ancient, for the robes the girls wore were reminiscent of sketches he'd seen in ancient books. The other girl was as fair as Liara was dark. Their eyes were crystal blue.

Beneath the portrait, he found a sword. The leather scabbard crumbled when he lifted it from the chest. The blade and hilt were formed from bands of silver and gilt.

Mine, he thought. 'Twould replace the one buried beneath the sands. He saluted an imaginary opponent and made a series of pa.s.ses. Then bearing the sword and the portrait, he returned to the courtyard.