by N M Zoltack
Edmund stood and waved Simba over. The taller, muscular man made his way over and sat beside Edmund.
To Edmund’s surprise, Simba immediately said, “You were the one that female was asking for.”
“Yes.”
“They said she’s an alchemist.”
“She has a name,” Edmund said stiffly.
Simba nodded. “I didn’t check it.”
“Tatum.” Edmund hesitated and then handed Simba half of his roll.
The guard grinned, his teeth blindingly white. “Thank you, but if you think some bread will make me doing something I don’t want to—”
“It’s not a bribe,” Edmund objected.
“I think you protest a little too strongly.” Simba appraised him. “What is it that she wanted with you?”
“She’s marrying my brother, and she needs my help to procure a present for him.”
“Your help?”
“It requires a bodyguard.”
“Where are you going?” Simba asked. He ate the roll in one massive bite.
“The swamp.”
Simba’s eyes grew wider than the circumference of his goblet. He drained his ale and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Have you ever been there before?” Edmund asked. This was the longest conversation the two had ever had.
“No, but I’ve heard plenty of stories. I don’t blame her for not wanting to go along, but I thought…”
“Go ahead,” Edmund said wearily. He had heard much and more from Jurian about how history had proven time and again just how evil every single female alchemist had turned out to be.
In truth, Edmund had been worried for precisely that same reason initially. Then, he had seen Tatum interact with her customers. She showed no signs of being power-hungry or vicious in any sense of the word. She merely loved Dudley with all of her heart and wished the best for everyone she came across. That her business was successful despite her not hiding the fact she was a female alchemist meant people trusted her.
Or were desperate.
“I thought alchemists could create potions to increase endurance and strength,” Simba said after a long moment.
“I doubt anyone would wish to venture the swamps alone, even if bolstered by potions,” Edmund said wryly.
“You wouldn’t traverse the swamp alone?” Simba asked.
“If you would cover for me, I might,” Edmund jested.
Simba laughed, the sound booming. “You mean to go trampling through the swamp with the woman your brother is to marry? Doesn’t that seem a bit strange to you?”
“She needs an herb.”
“For a present for your brother, yes, but did you ask what the present might be?”
“No.” Edmund shrugged, not wanting to admit that he hadn’t even thought to ask her.
“And you trust her?”
“I would not be asking for your assistance if I didn’t.”
Simba leaned back and rubbed his chin. Many of the guards grew beards and mustaches, but Simba was clean-shaven as well as bald.
Finally, the tall man shook his head slowly. “You will need to convince at least one other.”
Edmund nodded. “I know, but I can count on you?”
“You can,” Simba said dryly, “but I might ask a favor of you in the future.”
“Anything.”
Simba smiled broadly. “You might not be so happy you just promised that.”
Edmund was already standing and looking around to whom else he might ask to help him. Most of the others had left already to start their duties, and Edmund realized he would have to go tend to his.
After he handed his clean plate to a serving woman, Edmund headed to the door and had to step aside so Jurian could enter.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” the clearly still-tired guard grumbled.
Edmund smirked. “Am I to be your keeper?”
“No. Of course not.” Jurian shook his head, sidestepped Edmund, and then halted. “But you’re the alchemist’s keeper, aren’t you? What did she want anyhow?”
“To talk.”
Jurian raised his eyebrows. “You know you’ll tell me eventually.”
“Perhaps.”
Edmund bypassed Jurian and headed out of the mess hall. Up ahead, he spied a few Tjaart Kamua, Chima Botha, and Tau Maina. The trio were from the island of Tiapan. Considering they were all fierce warriors, Edmund had been shocked to realize that they were stationed as guards. They had all fought hard during the recent tournament. It wasn’t until Jurian told Edmund that he learned why the three were not out in the world, protecting Dragoona as knights. They had gotten into a disagreement with several other knights, and one of those knights ended up losing a leg. Jurian hadn’t known the exact reason for the battle, but perhaps it had not been the fault of the trio because they had not been stripped of their shields entirely.
Edmund hadn’t spoken with them much at all. Teoma Barno, on the other hand, had asked Edmund to watch over a part of the city for him as the lady Teoma had loved had spurred him for another.
Trying to hide a smile, Edmund walked over to Teoma. The guard’s brown skin and thin goatee and mustache contrasted with the silver of his armor. Although a guard, Teoma preferred to wear his armor as much as possible.
Teoma smiled as Edmund approached. “My brother, how glorious is this day?”
“It would be all the more glorious if you could help me.”
“But of course.”
“Naturally, whenever you have to patrol the northeast portion of Atlan, I will do so for you.”
Teoma clanged his fist to his heart. “It pains me to even see her. I do not begrudge her happiness, and yet, to hear that she might seek the affections of another causes me so much grief that I can hardly stand it. That you would help spare me from this anguish is more than I can ever repay.”
“I am willing to help a friend.”
“Always.” Teoma solemnly held out his hands and bowed slightly at the waist. “I wish to repay the favor.”
“About that…”
A minute later and Edmund was whistling. Everything was set up now between Teoma and Simba that he could learn for an entire fortnight. The two thought they might be able to convince others in their quest.
Edmund rushed back to the bunker and packed all that he might need. A short time later, he was off and heading for Tatum’s shop. It wasn’t until he turned onto her street that he realized going away with her meant he could not ask to be reassigned from the city. Not unless he could prove himself far too worthy to be a mere guard despite his peasant parentage.
He halted and even stopped walking. Perhaps he should reconsider.
But no, he pushed aside his own wants and desires and his long-sought after goal. One day, he could be concerned with himself, but for now, Dudley deserved to be happy, and Tatum clearly wanted to make his brother happy. How could Edmund be so selfish as to worry about himself alone?
Whistling once more, he marched the rest of the way to Tatum’s shop. Perhaps she would be willing to leave this very moment.
16
Olympia Bai
For half of the year, the days on Xalac were endlessly long, and Olympia lived for those days. The sun was her most kindest companion. The other half of the year belonged to the moon, who hid her silver face more often than not. Those unending nights could be far too cold, and Olympia dreaded them.
That those very same nights would be drawing near soon did little to appease Olympia. So very little.
If she could control the weather… but no. She controlled only her own actions, and the weather was far beyond anyone’s power to govern.
Except, perhaps, that of the dragons. Dong Han used to relegate her with all kinds of stories about the dragons. There had been a time when there had been no king or queen. None had been needed because the great and wondrous dragons ruled over the world and everything that breathed.
Two thousand years ago, men and women decided they should r
ise up against their masters. Despite the peace the dragons offered. Despite the happiness they felt. Despite everything being perfect.
Dong had said that all humans tended to crave more and more as they grew older. Men and women tended to be blind to ambition. They longed to acquire more and more. Dragons were not susceptible to the weaknesses that men shared, yet somehow, they had enough faith in humanity that they never saw the betrayal coming. From what Dong had told Olympia, a single man alone had been able to kill the first dragon. Before that dragon had a chance to be reborn, others swarmed the second and third.
Perhaps it had been the brutal nature of their deaths that caused the dragons to not reforge themselves anew. All creatures, even dragons, died, but the dragons had been reborn anew, rising from their ashes, rising from the flames.
Perhaps it was because all three had died in such a short period of time. Perhaps the other dragons used their magic to bring back and reincarnate their winged breather.
Perhaps but no one could ever say for certain. The might of dragons was beyond that of a human mind to fully comprehend.
Did Olympia believe in the dragons? Or were they only a tale Dong had shared to a crying baby as they sailed the ship bound for Xalac? Throughout the years until his death when Olympia had only been five, she had heard the stories over and over again. These stories and not those concerning her family were the ones she always pined to hear yet one more time, just one more time. The stories about the dragons granted her a peace she did not normally feel.
The dragons would never return for two reasons. Either they had never been real in the first place, only a story to try to tickle the fancy of small children. Or humans were far too dangerous, too destructive, too chaotic and wicked for the dragons to wish to be reborn and suffer mankind once more.
For several weeks now, Olympia would return to the beach and watch the other Xalacians. She observed their behavior and noticed one distinct difference from a month prior.
The people of Xalac were far more restless.
Normally, those here were happy. Olympia had the feeling they were happier than most, generally speaking. But they were almost angry, something that shocked Olympia to the core.
She left her sand cave and walked past a small field of tannish berries. Not much vegetation could thrive here on the island, giving the sand, but the roots of the tannish berries dug down deep, so very deep that even when the storms hellwinds would blow, the bushes would survive. Now, the berries might all be blown off, and given that they were the same color as the sand, the berries could not be recovered as they blended in so perfectly.
Olympia plucked only a single berry and waved to Narses Kader. The young boy with deeply tanned skin and dazzling white teeth grinned at her and burst out laughing. She laughed despite herself. That boy was always laughing, always smiling. He could not be happier if he tried. Day or night, Narses could be counted on to want to swim or play games or wrestle in the sand.
There were a lot of structures on Xalac, but every one of them was constructed from stone and mud. Olympia headed toward the center of the island, where the most buildings had been erected. Those on Xalac all looked after each other. The farmers provided for all, as did the fishermen. During the storms, everyone huddled in the buildings. Everyone looked after the young. They were not merely a grouping of families who lived here, but one giant familial unit.
The most recent storm had been only two nights ago, and now that most of the debris had been cleared away, Olympia wanted to ensure that the structural foundations of the buildings remained solid. Another storm would be coming sooner rather than later.
As she approached, the dim hum of voices grew louder and louder.
“Why shouldn’t we rule ourselves?” someone called out.
“That someone should be me!”
“You are far too young and arrogant. What we need is someone with experience, someone who has survived much and more.”
“You are going to die any day, old man. Why rule when you might not wake up tomorrow morning?” the youthful throne-wisher asked.
Such cruelty. Olympia’s lips twisted downward with displeasure, and she rounded the corner of the nearest building.
Standing before her was a gathering of twenty or so men and five women. In the center of the wide circle stood Ninos Ahmed and Amosis Nejem. Ninos was the young one. Amosis was probably one of the eldest living on the island. Despite his age, he maintained a lithe figure. He meditated often and had the strength of body and mind to be able to support this entire body with either a single finger or his big toe. Witnessing that was mindboggling.
Clearly, though, Ninos was not impressed. The boy, man really at five-and-twenty, acted as if all the world was his to control forevermore and had since he had been only five years of age.
The two circled each other, Ninos bouncing on his feet, Amosis slower yet steadier.
“All we have to do is take out the guards,” Ninos said. “Then, we can settle this with our fists. Whoever still stands will be our leader. Might makes right!”
A few of those in the crowd watching cheered. Olympia rolled her eyes.
“A sound mind is hard to find,” Amosis cautioned. No sheen of sweat covered his bald head.
“Who needs that?” Ninos sneered. He turned his back to the old man and addressed the men. “Who will come with me and help to defeat the guards?”
The men began to cheer, and Olympia felt compelled to push through the crowd without entering the circle.
“Defeat by subduing or defeat by killing?” she asked.
“Does it matter?” Ninos threw up his hands. “We must free ourselves from tyranny and—”
“What tyranny?” Olympia muttered under her breathe. “Despite what the queen or whomever sits on the throne of Tenoch thinks, we live as we please, not as she rules.”
“True enough,” a woman replied in a harsh whisper, “but why should we have to live under the threat of oppression? That there are guards here from Tenoch shows that a force could come at any time.”
Olympia wasn’t worried about a force or the guards. So long as they lived in peace, the guards left them be. Yes, she would prefer for the guards to not be here, but the guards did not partake in their food. The guards huddled in a sand cave when storms came. The people of Xalac existed only for themselves. Every month or so, a ship would come from Maloyan, the nearest major city in Tenoch to the island, to provide the guards with food and fresh supplies.
While churning over her thoughts, somehow, a fight had broken out between Ninos and Amosis. The man had already struck his elder twice in the face. Someone from the crowd, perhaps Amosis’s wife, threw him a long, thin reed. Olympia winced as he whacked the reed hard against the younger man’s back when he dared to divert his attention to rally the already enthused and eager crowd.
With a roar, Ninos launched himself at Amosis, who stood as still as a blade of grass on a windless day. At the last moment, Amosis stepped to the side, but Ninos was no fool. He suspected this and jutted out his leg. The old man faltered but managed to prevent himself from falling, not using his hands for balance, holding them clasped behind his back.
Just then, heavy footfalls sounded. The guards were approaching. Only they bothered to wear armor despite the heat of the days here on Xalac.
The crowd parted as if the lowering of the tide, and the guards entered the circle. Olympia inhaled sharply. Had they overheard the words cried out or only the noise of the brawl? Did they know the reason behind the disagreement?
Before the guards could fully come to a halt from their march and upright their spears against their shoulders, Olympia burst forward.
“Have you come to witness the melee?” she asked, feigning eagerness so as to hide her worry.
The taller guard tilted his head to look down at her. She was tall than most of the women on the island, at five feet, seven inches. The guard, though, had at least half a foot on her.
“We are here to break up this mel
ee.”
Olympia shook her head, pouting. “But, why? It is our tradition. Before the monsoon season arrives, before the times of unending nights, we offer a fight. We offer blood but not death. It is to ensure that the monsoon season does end and that the unending nights will cease too. Without it, the endlessly long days will surely never return.”
The guards glanced at each other. Every sixth return of the ship from Maloyan, new guards were ferried over to the island. They hadn’t been here before, and they would not know their customs.
As such, they would not realize that Olympia was lying.
All around her, the people witnessing the fight clamored, shouting for the guards to allow the melee, lending credence to her falsehood. Olympia clasped her hands together and lowered her head.
“No,” the other guard said. “I knew you lot were savages, but nature does not work this way. With or without this melee, the monsoons will end. The nights will not forever be dark. The sun will return. Stop this now.”
Olympia scowled at them, whirled around, and marched over to Ninos and Amosis. The two men had the control to pause their fight when the guards had arrived, but she could tell from Ninos bouncing that he was itching to return to battle. Even the subtle twitching of Amosis’s fingers suggested that he too longed to finish what they had started.
“Not now,” she murmured to them. “The time to rise up is not now. Do not attack the guards. Do not fight each other. We need to be strong if we are to change anything.”
Ninos flared his nostrils. “You were not born here. You have no say.”
“Do you want the guards to kill you?” she retorted, her tone still low. “Because that one guard looks like he would like to use that spear if only given a reason too.”
She glanced over her shoulders. These guards had not been here for a full month yet. The one in question gripped his spear so tightly that his knuckles whitened. His muscles were taunt and ready to spring at a moment’s notice.
Amosis nodded to Ninos. The younger man grimaced but nodded back.
The guards hung around until the crowd dispersed. Ninos lingered longer than Amosis, but eventually, he departed as well. Within minutes, Olympia found herself standing there all alone. The timid peace here in Xalac seemed to be over. Should she stay here and try to reestablish it? Or should she move on?