by Drew Wagar
‘You’re forgetting which ship you’re on, young Meru. Mobilis should manage thirty marks a chime at a cruise when we’ve got both engines,’ Coran answered, ‘meaning we’ll cover two hundred and forty marks each stretch, more if we rotate in shifts. Five stretches is all we’ll need to cross the sea, give or take.’
‘We could follow the coast,’ Fitch interjected, prodding at the map. ‘Sunward of the Spikes and round.’
Mel shook her head. ‘Further for a start and the waters to the sunward are churned by tempests and storms as Meru well knows. No need to tempt fate.’
‘Just trying to keep us alive,’ Fitch grumbled. ‘I prefer my limbs attached.’
Meru was looking at the map.
‘There’s another city marked here,’ he said. ‘Dynesia.’
‘Our first port of call,’ Coran agreed. ‘We’ll make port there and reccie the area. See what we can learn of the lands thereabouts. If we depart at the beginning of a pass, we’ll be fifteen stretches at sea. That should allow us to take our position when we’re near this Dynesia.’
‘In the land of Scallia,’ Meru observed.
‘First of our people to set foot there in generations,’ Coran said.
‘If there’s anything there,’ Fitch said.
‘We won’t know if we don’t go now, will we?’ Coran answered, raising his voice. ‘How are your contributions coming, Fitch?’
‘Building up the supplies,’ Fitch answered, a touch defensively. ‘Given I don’t know what we’re facing I’ll be bringing along a selection.’
‘Excellent,’ Coran beamed.
‘A selection of what?’ Meru demanded.
‘You’ll see,’ Fitch replied, with a sideways flick of his eyes.
‘All to be revealed, Meru,’ Coran said. ‘For now we concentrate on the build of the second engine. No Amarans have ventured shaderight for generations. We’ll be the first. Who’s to say what we’ll find? Here’s to us and the Mobilis!’
Coran had clearly had slightly too much to drink, but the good spirits were infectious. More ale and Ochren was consumed. Only Meru heard Fitch’s mutterings in the corner.
‘Who’s to say what we’ll find? Pestilence, wild animals and death on a lonely shoreline’s the most likely outcome of this madness …’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Viresia, Capital of Scallia
Round 2306, Fifth Pass
The land was growing steeper about them, the rolling planes of Serenia giving way to the hilly and mountainous terrain near to the Capital of Scallia. The path Zoella and Ioric had been following wound upwards through the hills, in places steep and treacherous. The hergs stumbled under them, forcing them off their backs and on to their feet, carefully leading the beasts onwards. Raga paced beside Zoella, ever guarding her.
They had been walking for several passes, long interminable stretches spent trudging through the almost unending forests of Scallia. Most of the land was unoccupied. Zoella hadn’t realised how far they’d needed to come. They had encountered roads once more, dirt tracks that led them onwards. The land was rising now, finally drawing away from the low lands in the sunright.
The forest about them began to thin as they climbed. Before long the trees stopped and they reached a hilltop. Zoella paused uneasily as a large building came into view. It was old, stone built and blackened in many places, its walls damaged from some long ago battle.
‘Keep walking little one,’ Ioric called. ‘There’s no need to fear, I know where we are. This place has long since been abandoned.’
Zoella looked around her. It had been a castle of some kind, not a huge one, perhaps a fortified outpost. Clearly it had been important at some point, she could see the remains of an external wall, crumbled into rubble.
‘Come. I will show you. This is a good vantage point,’ Ioric said, taking the lead. He walked up between two towers which must have originally guarded the entrance. One was little more than a ruin; a huge stone block, but the other retained its original shape. A cylindrical affair, with loopholes arranged around its perimeter.
There were no gates. Weeds and green had invaded the interior of the ruin, growing over many of the fallen rocks. Zoella could see the outline of rooms and buildings, but there was little else.
Inside the inner walls at the centre of what would have once been an expansive courtyard stood a large stone house, its windows long gone. She peered inside, seeing bare earthen floors, the outline of a fireplace and a stone staircase leading up the inside of the building. Ioric tied their hergs outside and ventured in. Zoella looked around briefly before following him, motioning for Raga to stay put.
Ioric led her up a rough stone staircase, through two storeys. The stairs led upwards still and Zoella found herself emerging on top of the building, with a fortified wall all about her.
The view over the sides was stunning. Lacaille’s sphere was huge in the sky as ever. The land fell away sharply in all directions from their vantage point. Zoella could see back the way they had come, the forests of Serenia stretching away almost to the limits of vision in the far sunward. In the distance she could see the faint glistening of the sea under the light of Lacaille.
‘This way,’ Ioric called.
Zoella turned, walking with her shadow before her, to the opposite side of the roof.
‘There it is.’
Zoella looked out across rolling hills seeing a long sinuous valley running away from their position into the distance. She followed the flickering light of a river that meandered around the base of the hills until it rose up in a waterfall several marks away. To her surprise she saw that the water was apparently cascading from underneath a city. It seemed to be perched on the side of a mountain. She could see tier upon tier of buildings, stretching up one after the other, culminating in an impressive edifice of some kind. She couldn’t make out much at this distance, but to be seen from this far away it had to be huge. A light flashed out from it, sparkling bright, just like the light of Lacaille, bright enough to make her squint.
‘Viresia, the city of water,’ Ioric muttered beside her. ‘It’s stood for a thousand rounds and seen much turmoil. That is the palace atop the centre.’
‘It’s incredible,’ Zoella said. ‘And so big. I’ve never seen its like.’
‘Nor are you likely to,’ Ioric said. ‘It is a wonder of the past, we can no longer rend the earth and rocks in such a way to create such a city. We try to keep it in good repair; that is the best we can do. They say it once held a hundred thousand people, it’s less than a tenth of that now and much of it is abandoned.’
‘What is that light?’
Ioric smiled. ‘You’ll see.’
‘And where are we now? What is this dirty old ruin?’
‘Dirty old ruin?’ Ioric echoed. ‘You insult my own abode?’
Zoella’s face fell. Ioric laughed.
‘I jest child,’ he said. ‘It is a dirty old ruin! It was once a gateway town, of no mean grandeur itself, but that was long ago.’
‘It’s yours?’
Ioric’s smile turned grimmer. ‘My father’s idea of humour. He gifted both his sons with a town in their name. My brother received one on the eastern plains that still contains some of our people. This was mine. Still, it is easy to administer. I have no problem with taxes due!’
‘Your father, the King? Yet you said all was not well with the kingdom …’
‘I spoke true,’ Ioric said. ‘I’ll tell you this, little Zoella, as I trust you. But it must go no further.’
Zoella caught his gaze and nodded.
‘My father is weak. A weakness born of fear. He will not divulge his fears, but he is consumed by them. A fear of these gifts, a fear of far off lands. Scallia fades under his leadership, the people poorer every round. It cannot continue like this.’
‘Then why doesn’t someone do something?’
‘Treason is no little thing,’ Ioric said, smiling at her earnest expression. ‘To actively work against the Ki
ng? If you are caught, the penalty is death. The King commands the army and they are loyal to him, at least for now.’
‘But those guards. That Lord …’
‘Lord Westin, yes,’ Ioric nodded. ‘The Lords and Nobles scheme as the King wanes. They want more power, more control and they play a game of chance, hoping to gain favour as they can. Lord Westin was sent by the King to look for you. I believe the King, my father, is seeking out those with your gift, sending them to Drayden.’
Zoella thought about that for a moment.
‘Your brother. His name was Torin, yes?’
Ioric nodded. ‘Aye. A half-brother. He’s much younger than me, perhaps five rounds older than you I would guess. My father married again after my mother died. There was a sickness in the land …’
Zoella frowned as Ioric stopped. He sighed.
‘We lost many dear to us in those times.’
Zoella had seen her share of illness. Sometimes the plagues swept in with little warning, carried by the wind or in the water. The weakest always suffered the worst.
‘My brother is young and inexperienced,’ Ioric added. ‘But he is a good man.’
‘Do you have any other family? A sister?’
Ioric kept looking out towards Viresia. ‘I did, she was lost when I was a young man.’
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean …’
Ioric turned and smiled. ‘The past is what it is, child. We cannot change it. My father knows what happened to my sister, but he has never revealed that to me either. I fear it has something to do with our great mystery.’
‘This Drayden place,’ Zoella said with a shiver.
Ioric nodded.
‘And you said you had a daughter? That I would be serving her?’
‘Yes, my daughter Liana. She is about your age, perhaps a little older.’
‘Then you have a wife?’
‘I did.’
Zoella gasped. ‘Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep …’
‘Be at peace, child. Truth be told, I don’t miss her all that much. It was a marriage of arrangement and I profited little from it! Her passing was unfortunate, but it was met with some relief by me.’ He stopped at the look on Zoella’s face. ‘Does that sound harsh to you?’
‘Did you love her?’
Ioric sighed. ‘Love is a luxury few royals can afford. Marriage for us is of politics, not of the heart. She and I did not get along well and alas I continue that tradition with my own daughter.’
‘She reminds you of your wife.’
Ioric turned and looked at Zoella.
‘You have a wise head, little one,’ he said. ‘And here I am telling you of my family in a way I have not done for rounds. There are few I confide in and yet I talk to you like a childhood friend. How is that then?’
Zoella shrugged and smiled. ‘I like to listen. You might say I have a … gift for it.’
Ioric laughed.
‘And you are good at it and a wholesome travelling companion. I forget you can spy upon my very thoughts …’
‘I would never spy upon you, Prince Ioric,’ Zoella said. She watched as he turned to regard her, before patting her gently on the shoulder.
‘You’re a rare gift for sure,’ he said, with a smile. ‘I wish others were more like you. Come, we will camp here for the sleeping and then reach Viresia for the early chimes.’
‘There’s something you still haven’t told me,’ Zoella said.
‘There are many things,’ Ioric replied, with a laugh. ‘What in particular?’
‘Why are you doing all this?’ Zoella asked. ‘A Prince of Scallia, why do you care so much for a poor girl from a backward town? Defying your father as you do.’
Ioric paused, thinking for a moment.
‘A good question. A very good question indeed.’
Zoella looked at him expectantly. ‘Is there an answer?’
Ioric sighed. ‘Scallia fails, Zoella. Under my father’s rule our cities and towns wane, our people grow poorer, fear and violence grows. His paranoia is fuelled by this fear of lands far away. Whatever this secret is, I believe that unravelling it will provide me with an answer and perhaps the salvation of the kingdom. You may be my last chance to understand. My father will not be king forever, he is old and infirm. I am next in line. I wish to be a better king than he.’
Zoella pursed her lips. ‘I believe you will be, Prince Ioric.’
They descended the stone steps and unpacked their gear, lighting a small fire in the old fireplace. Raga curled up beside her. Before long they settled down to sleep. Zoella closed her eyes against the brightness outside.
And what will the next stretch bring?
It took a while to reach Viresia. Leaving the abandoned outpost behind them they descended to the floor of the valley, finding a well-used road running before them with a swift flowing river on the sunright side. The going became easier, the road smooth. Either side of them mountains rose up to a great height, casting deep shadows further up the valley.
At the far end, the city grew as they approached, even more intimidating from this vantage point. Zoella watched as it towered above them, hundreds of hands into the air.
Before long they encountered other travellers on the road. Herg-drawn carts, with traders moving away from or travelling towards the city became a common sight. There was the odd soldier, with a few children scampering around. Nobody paid Ioric or Zoella the slightest bit of attention, their rough weatherworn clothing blending in with those around them.
They reached the end of the valley after a short stop for a drink. Zoella could see that the lower levels of the city were guarded by a wall, opened by a single double-doored gateway. Even from this distance Zoella saw guards dotting the walls.
Ioric saw her watching them warily.
‘Do not fear little one, just stay close to me. Keep your secret. It must remain just between the two of us.’
Zoella nodded.
As they approached the gate she could see a pair of guards keeping a watchful eye on those going in and out. The gate was tall, easily four times her height, the walls a bright pale yellow stone in the light of Lacaille. The stone work was intricate, huge interlocking blocks of masonry, none of which seemed to be the same shape or size, but each was fitted to its neighbour with a hardly visible gap. She looked at it, marvelling at the skill it must have taken. It was a far cry from Tarq’s ramshackle hall.
She was brought back to matters at hand by a gentle growl from Raga, she touched his flank to calm him, seeing him lazily waft his fans.
Ioric strode up to the guards, signalling for her to stay close behind.
‘Who goes, stranger?’ the guard said. ‘We’d see your face. Friends only in Viresia.’
‘Would you turn your Prince away from his own doors?’ Ioric said, sweeping his hood back.
Zoella saw the guard’s eyes widen in surprise, hesitating before belatedly going down on one knee, his companion joining him a moment later. The other travellers about them stopped, with a low mumble of conversation and recognition resounding about them.
‘Oh course not, my Prince!’ the guard stammered. ‘But evil rumours told that you’d been killed. A band of ruffians by all accounts …’
‘Aye, there were ruffians all right,’ Ioric said, giving Zoella a look. ‘But I was rescued by my new maid here.’
She watched as the guard looked down at her and saw his eyes take in the crude bow she still carried.
‘Sire?’
‘Handy in a tight spot, a good shot and a fearsome warrior,’ Ioric said with a grin. ‘Watch out for young Zoella, from the sunward homesteads.’
The guards got to their feet and then bowed to Zoella. ‘Hail and well met, Zoella.’
Zoella remembered to curtsey. Raga barked loudly, making the guards reach for their pikes.
‘And her fearsome beast,’ Ioric finished. ‘Fear not, it is trained. Quite a predator at her command though.’
The guards gave the old carn a wary look.<
br />
‘How goes the kingdom?’
‘I daresay King Marek will be pleased to see you back safely, sire.’
Ioric laughed. ‘I doubt he even knew I was away. Our road was long and without much in the way of provision. Send for some wine and meat and wake up that brother of mine.’
The younger guard bowed and retreated, running ahead of them into the courtyard within the walls. Ioric winked at Zoella and they ventured inside, through the shadows of the gateway, Raga trailing at her heels.
Inside the true splendour of the city was revealed, tier upon tier, rising up the steep sides of the valley, but it was the waterfall that captured Zoella’s gaze. It sprang from the very top of the city, fed by some unseen source from behind the buildings, cascading down through the different levels of the city, diverted by cunning water works through aqueducts, courses and falls through ornate gardens, parks and colonnades until it fell one final time into a roaring pool before them. A faint mist floated from it, attracting many people to the edges of the pool. It was noticeably cooler here, delicious and invigorating.
Zoella couldn’t see where the water went after this, but Ioric must have seen the wondering expression on her face.
‘The water flows under the walls through a subterranean passage until it emerges into the river beyond,’ Ioric said. Zoella looked behind her, trying to work it out in her head.
Ioric smiled. ‘I told you the ancients knew their stuff.’
‘Brother!’
A call came from the far side of the courtyard. Zoella turned to see a decidedly young and attractive looking man run out from one of the buildings. He was dressed in a smart tunic bearing the colour she’d seen on many of the flags around the walls.
‘Torin!’ Ioric exclaimed, turning to the man and embracing him closely as he ran across. Zoella watched as they pummelled each other’s backs before releasing themselves.
‘It is good to see you brother. Father has been insufferable. I have not your patience for matters of state. Endless books of figurings and the law. Spare me now that you’ve returned … you have returned, yes?’