Chapter 2

  The Foothills

  Janak huddled deeper into her threadbare cloak for what little protection it could offer her. Taya had born her from among the press of the multitude and they were now exposed to the fitful wind that whipped across the charcoal planes from time to time. They still passed people, but these were fewer and fewer as they climbed the gentle slopes. Most had found a quieter place to stand and gaze upon the mountain. Some moved toward it, albeit self-consciously, as if they hoped no one would see or take too much notice. These hunched low in the waist-high grass as they climbed, or even stopped and pretended they were only looking until Taya had strode resolutely past.

  These observations weighed heavily on Janak's mind. The affect the mountain had on the surrounding people was undeniable, and yet what it drove people to seemed as varied as the personalities gathered. It left Janak wondering how she would be climbing if she had not injured herself. How would Taya have climbed if he was not carrying someone he perhaps did not wish to shame himself in front of?

  "There is a fork in the path," Taya observed, breaking into Janak's musings. He stopped, looking expectantly from right to left, as if someone might leap out of the grass and give directions.

  Janak craned her neck in a vain attempt to see further up either trail, but both disappeared into the long grass and it was impossible to tell where either led. It was a painfully obvious problem to have, and until then Janak had not even considered what her destination truly was, never mind the path she should take to get there.

  "I was so set on climbing the mountain I never gave a thought to the need for a guide or map," she confessed bitterly. "A poor plan on my part."

  "I saw no maps or guides among the crowd, only milling sheep without a shepherd," Taya offered in his best attempt to sooth Janak's clearly wounded pride.

  "Where are we to go?" fretted Janak. "The mountain now fills my vision. It is ... far bigger than it looked from the crowd."

  Taya set Janak down upon one of the many rocks that jutted up out of the grass. This one was shaped well enough to provide not unpleasant seating for a time. She looked up at him warily.

  "I will go a little ways up both paths," he offered. "That should at least provide more information. Then we can make a decision on which path to follow."

  "It is a sound idea," Janak said reluctantly. He probably tires of carrying me. Still. It is better that he abandons me than attacks me. "I will await your report then," she said, seeming brave enough, although inwardly expecting no return from the young warrior.

  With a curt not, Taya took his spear in hand and set off up the right hand trail at a quick lope, spear pointing forward and to the ground. Janak looked on enviously at the ease with which he moved unburdened, and he was soon just a torso bobbing above the grass, and growing steadily smaller. He disappeared a couple of times as he rounded larger outcrops of stone or dense thickets of the hardy, gnarled, trees that grew on the foothills, and finally crested a rise and was lost to sight for good.

  Janak sighed dismally despite herself. It wounded her to rely on anyone, but it now occurred to her just how reliant she had been on such a lucky acquaintance.

  "I can melt stone with my breath, but that will not help me walk," she murmured to herself.

  Gingerly, she rose to her feet and took a few tentative steps. Walking was possible, but slow and painful. She did not want to think about what it would be like to climb, or even walk, for extended lengths of time uphill. The deep gouges made when she had fallen had stopped bleeding, although the dried blood on her pale flesh was still an unsightly mess. She grimaced and did her best to clean off what she could.

  Perhaps I should choose the path that Taya did not, she thought to herself. I suppose it does not matter ... he is much fast than I. I shouldn't think I would see him again even if I followed him.

  She sat back down on the rock Taya had found her. For a moment, her heart attempted to convince her that he would return. After all, he had left her in what comfort he could. Her mind haughtily scorched the notion, though. It made no sense for a young, runaway slave to take up another burden after being newly freed ... and carrying that burden up a mountain, no less.

  Voices carried up the path from further down, back the way Janak and Taya had come. People travelling in a group. Janak rose back to her feet, resolved to hiding in the grass until they had passed, but a single rushed step in an awkward direction made her catch her breath and pause a moment longer than she could afford. A pair of travellers came into view; a boy and a girl, scarcely adults. He was a gangly lad with an air of uncertainty about him. His hair was like a bundle of flax that the wind had troubled, and his eyes were a charming and approachable hazel accented with kindness. The girl was less uncertain and more apprehensive, as if every step brought her nearer to some confrontation she did not wish to have, but knew she must endure all the same. Her hair was a mousey brown over green eyes that flickered with regret.

  All this Janak saw in a moment, trained from the cradle as she was to read people and their likely agendas. She calmed her breathing and retook her seat on the rock. It was too late to hide, and if she must protect herself, she needed to be calm and in control of her breathing and emotions. Her flames would be her own undoing if left unchecked on a windy mountainside overgrown with dead grass.

  The two travellers stopped when they saw her, and all three regarded each other warily for a moment that seemed eternal but was scarcely a few heartbeats. The girl looked nervously to the boy, but Janak read no duress in her eyes; more of a fear he might say more than he should. So, then, the boy was likely the more amiable and naive of the two. If it came to it, Janak was prepared to use that against him.

  "Well met," the boy smiled. "Are you making for The Gate?"

  These two know more than I already, mused Janak. There is a gate?

  Aloud, she said, "Well met. Yes, I make for the gate. My companion and I were unsure of the path to take, so he went on ahead a ways. He should return soon."

  "That is good to hear," breathed the girl. "We thought you alone with that injury. The Mountain is hard enough going when fully fit."

  "I have managed thus far," Janak said primly, her ears burning slightly at the half-truth.

  "Which path did your companion take?" asked the boy then. "We could confirm the correct route for you."

  "He thought the trail that leads most directly up The Mountain was the more likely to take us to our destination. I am not sure how far he intended to go to make sure."

  "Ah, that is good news," murmured the girl. "That is indeed the way. Do you..." She hesitated then.

  The boy smiled encouragingly and finished her thought. "You would be welcome to travel with us until we catch up to your companion."

  Janak smiled mirthlessly and shook her head. "That is a kind offer," she said, "but no. I am ..." She stopped herself before she could confess to her physical infirmity. She must be wary. All sorts of men and women climbed The Mountain. Janak had know more than a few who feigned innocence on their face, but within their breast lurked the heart of a devil. "I must wait for my companion," she lied. "We promised to climb together." Less of a lie in the literal sense, although Janak still felt as if she had seen the last of Taya.

  "We could wait," offered the lad, but the girl shook her head turning her concerned eyes on his.

  "We should respect her wishes," the girl said quietly and earnestly.

  Janak thought perhaps a little too earnestly. So this one has something she does not wish others to see as well, she mused.

  "Safe travels," Janak nodded by way of farewell.

  The boy looked reluctant, but did as suggested and resumed walking with a cheerful wave.

  "I hope we see you at The Gate," he called out in a guilessly carefree manner.

  Janak shook her head at the boy's back as he and the girl grew smaller, wading through the sea of dry grass. They did, indeed, travel the same path that Taya had, and likewise disappeared over the same rise at last.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Janak clicked her tongue at her own wariness before turning her mind to the problem of climbing while injured. She looked back the way she had come, for a moment tempted to make her way back down and recuperate. The notion was cast aside immediately. To descend the mountain was to admit defeat. She had seen them. Those who came down off the mountain returned to wherever they came from, bitterness and distaste written on their face.

  The wind whipped at her matted ebony hair as she turned her eyes up the gentle slopes of the foothills. Beyond the stone-strewn rises, the mountain reared up out of the crumbling slopes in sheer cliffs. It had grown much closer while she was focussing on the journey, and now looked smaller than she remembered.

  A stone tumbled, and Janak whirled to face three newcomers who had closed the distance with her while she gawked at the mountain. They were her own people, and by their builds, warriors. She opened her mouth and then snapped it closed, having been on the verge of making some haughty demand for name and rank.

  "I thought I saw a prodigal of our nation," remarked one.

  Two were men, one a woman. All were dressed plain but neat, and well fit to travel with cloaks and generous provisions in rucksacks. Janak felt her belly gurgle hopefully and wanted to die.

  "Greetings," she replied, wracking her brain as to what they could be about. All three wore the dead-eyed and cold expressions of those very much still plying their trade as killers. These are no runaways, she realised, steadying her breathing.

  "See her jewels," murmured the woman to her colleagues.

  "My Lady, what is the meaning of this?" exclaimed the leader of the trio. An expression of shock and insult was tricked onto his face. "Your father is on the warpath, convinced that you have been abducted. Your betrothed tracks you even now, although how we have found you by chance and not he with his many skilled agents, I cannot say."

  "What do you do here, soldier?" demanded Janak, instantly made irritable in her fear of exposure. "What brings you to these lands?"

  The soldier's eyes hardened slightly, his quick wit having the same honing as what Janak had received. She had revealed too much, but she had know that as soon as the words left her mouth.

  "Your father keeps a small presence of his warriors always mingling with the crowd that comes to view The Mountain. We seek out our people and ... persuade ... them to return. We saw you in the grip of a savage and followed to deliver you. What then, Princess of the Molten Torrent ... do you mean to tell me that you climb The Mountain?"

  Janak could not move beneath the burden of the ultimatum put upon her. As soon as she had asked what he was about, rather than expressing relief at his arrival, she had made herself suspicious. Now she must either lie - which was a repulsive tool for the weak and cowardly in her eyes - or likely do battle.

  "Princess, are you committing treason?" demanded the soldier, articulating his previously vague question.

  "Yes," she said clearly, and thinking to herself that she must make a majestic figure, sitting on her granite throne, the wind whipping through her hair, speaking her intentions clearly. If only she were not dressed in rags.

  "Will you not reconsider, Princess?" asked the soldier warily.

  He knows what I can do, thought Janak with pride. He knows they will not pass through this battle unbloodied, if at all.

  "What is there for you on this path?" cried the soldier, as indignant as respect allowed. "Do you wish to be queen of straw and shale? For your injury to fester in the care of a savage? Return with us, I beg you! You will receive everything you want. I do not know what drove you here, but I can only guess that we found you because your betrothed would never imagine you would come within a hundred marches of this place."

  "Are you saying that to prevent his finding me, I must ensure your silence?" asked Janak quietly.

  "It does not matter what becomes of us, Princess," grinned the soldier. "You are acquainted with the Oddity of your betrothed. We have found you and identified you. He knows where you are now."

  Janak clicked her tongue irritably at herself once again. Of course she knew. The situation was unravelling into a disaster. Even with her powerful Oddity, she would struggle to face multiple opponents. At one time she had been strongest when alone and fighting many adversaries. Her Furnace Dance had once burned thirty enemy warriors to a cinder in an instant, but that required her to dance on legs fit for such actions. If she tried such a tactic here, she would fall on her face. Already, they had spread out to prevent her finishing them in a single move, and Janak could feel the tension settling on her shoulders, clutching at her throat, and constricting about her ribcage.

  They will not escape unscathed, she thought to herself, but neither shall I, if indeed I escape at all. I cannot flee, and if I set this grass alight, I will not have the mobility to escape being burned alive by my own doing.

  "We are bound to return you to your father and betrothed," the soldier said, although his face read that he looked forward to this battle as little as Janak did. "Please return willingly to your father's side. There is nothing for you here. The ruler of The Mountain will not suffer the daughter of his arch-enemy to dwell in his realm. Surely you understand. You have burned his warriors alive and razed his outposts to the ground without mercy, as is fitting. But there is no benefit to what you are doing."

  "I will not return to be sold off to a man with a void where his heart should be," Janak laughed harshly. "I have had my fill of submitting to my father and his plans for me. If this is where I die, so be it. At least in death there will be freedom." She stared down the soldier. "And if the king of this realm chooses to hold me to account for my actions against his warriors, that too I shall endure. But first I must arrive in his court, and even I do not know if I will succeed in that endeavour."

  "Our aim is not to slay you, but return you," allowed the soldier slowly. "We are not capable of taking you alive." His eyes hardened. "But know that we shall make known your whereabouts and the state in which we last saw you. You will find that your betrothed is willing to drag you home from before the very gates of The Mountain's ruler. You have only delayed the inevitable."

  The soldier took his hand off the hilt of his sword, and his comrades did likewise. They seemed to understand that Janak was extremely reluctant to set the mountainside ablaze if her life was not at stake, and took the opportunity to back away down the path until they were lost to no view. As they disappeared behind a large stone around which the path snaked, Janak exhaled a long and trembling breath. Perhaps she should have gone with them willingly, she thought unhappily. Her stubborn and contrary nature had risen to the fore at their threats and efforts at persuasion, observing only that someone was attempting to control her and must therefore be resisted, regardless of the wisdom of such resistance. She would be humiliated if her betrothed came for her. He would ensure she was an example and spectacle to his followers, crushing the morale of anyone who witnessed her being apprehended. And she knew the soldier had not made idle threats. Her betrothed would hound her to the very summit of The Mountain.

  There was an unfamiliar burning in her eyes and stinging in her nose, and her vision swam with tears that seemed to remain unshed by sheer willpower. Crying was not something that Janak the Molten Torrent was familiar with, but neither was the concept of hopelessness and a dread of what the future held. Now, her current situation only seemed all the more hopeless. At some point she must leave her rock throne and drag herself onward, and yet even that seemed pointless. How could she travel far or fast enough to outrun her pursuer?

  A single tear finally overflowed her eyelid and dribbled down her cheek, only to be dashed angrily away by her hand. She knew immediately it must have left a great, ugly, smear across her dusty cheek, but there was too much wrong to worry about her appearance.

  The sound of running feet found her ears, and Janak sighed with an angry misery. Who else must witness her powerlessness? She looked in the direction of the sound, and only then realised it was coming from further up the path. Someone was descending The Mountain at a steady pace. Janak immediately knew it to be the run of a trained scout or light warrior. It was the pace and gait of someone who knows they can maintain their progress for most of the day.

  Taya rounded a bend in the path, loping gracefully along like a lion on the move. His spear was held horizontally - safe to run with, but ready to use. Janak caught her breath, immediately disturbed that in that moment, the sound of his feet pounding toward her became the most beautiful thing in the world to her.

  "What are you doing here?" she demanded, ever her rudest when most shaken.

  Taya skidded to a halt before her and looked around.

  "Are you safe?" he demanded, ignoring her petulant question.

  "You saw?" Janak asked reluctantly.

  "I saw three warriors surrounding you, and began to run. Then you were hidden from my sight by some trees, and when I set my eyes on you again you were alone. What happened?"

  "They left. I threatened them. As I threatened you. Why are you here?" Her tone was now desperate. She was angry with herself at how desperate she sounded, and angry again because she knew what she wanted to hear.

  "Ah," Taya realised, nodding in understanding. "You thought I would not return."

  "Why did you?" snapped Janak, ashamed and feeling cornered. "What do you hope to gain by aiding me?"

  "A conscience at rest," replied Taya, as if that should be obvious. "I told you I would return."

  "Why should I have believed that?" demanded Janak, bewildered.

  Taya nodded again, as if coming to a few different realisations in the last couple of seconds.

  "Please take my words as a promise," Taya nodded firmly. "I will take you to the top of this mountain. Please only release me from this promise if I die in the attempt."

  "Why go so far?" Janak whispered, unable to comprehend the mindset behind such an oath. "I am a complete stranger to you."

  Taya looked up, the mountain summit still seemingly a full world away from them. He smiled, wide and without guile.

  "I do not believe I can finish this climb alone," he said factually. "I need you."

  Janak felt herself burning with embarrassment in the face of his candour.

  "You would go faster and easier without me to burden you," she insisted self-consciously. What am I doing, she wondered wretchedly. Do I hope to drive him away after he has returned against all I hoped for? And yet she knew that already some small part of her spirit had changed from opportunism to not wishing an innocent and chivalrous warrior get entangled in the intrigue surrounding her true identity. Nor did she feel willing or able to reveal her true identity to her companion.

  "Some people need the wellbeing of another to remain truly motivated," Taya smiled, as if to himself. "I am one of these. Now. Shall we resume our climb? I set my eyes on the township of The Gate before returning. We shall make it before sundown."

  "Very well," Janak said, staring at her lap. "You ... you have my thanks."

  "And you have mine," Taya returned. "Together, perhaps we stand a chance."