The World of Samar Box Set 3

by M. L. Hamilton

  Pushing aside their discomfort, they hurried on through the twists and turns of the wine cellar, past the many casks and barrels, afraid that at any moment the soldiers from Sarkisian would appear at their backs.

  One of the huge casks had fallen from its perch on top of the others and had split, spilling its contents into the dry earth. The cask, itself, lay blocking their way and they were forced to backtrack and climb over a few of the smaller ones, which proved difficult for Jarrett. They rested once before they left the wine cellar, then moved on into the narrower and damp catacombs.

  Cobwebs grew particularly thick here and Tyla found herself brushing them away from her face every few feet. On and on they wound, heading north as Muzik suspected they should go, then turning completely around until they were heading south again. Tyla began to wonder why Tarnow would have made these tunnels so confusing, but Muzik told her that they were natural lava tubes, widened and supported by castle workers. According to him, they wound for miles and miles beneath most of Nevaisser.

  It felt as if hours slipped away. Small rodents scurried underfoot and once or twice, Kian halted as if he heard something behind them. Tyla watched him and halted each time, feeling for any sign of pursuit. They’d been traveling toward the south for a long time now, or at least they thought they were going south. Tyla just couldn’t believe the tunnels could extend much further.

  They halted again when they came to a small underground stream that had pushed its way up through the floor of the catacombs and ran across their path. The water still flowed, even in winter, signifying exactly how deeply they had traveled underground. They stepped over it and continued on. Tyla rubbed her arms. It was getting even colder.

  When they had gone a little farther, Muzik suddenly stopped and turned to face them. “I’m lost. I have no idea where we are or which direction to turn anymore.”

  Tyla shifted her gaze to Jarrett. The Terrian’s face was damp with perspiration despite the cold. “Let’s rest,” she said and helped Jarrett sink to the ground. Pulling out her knapsack, she reached for her healing kit and opened it. “Show me where you’re hurt.”

  “I’m fine. I just need to rest,” he responded, but she could tell by the expression on his face that he wasn’t.

  “Jarrett...” she began, but his eyes had shifted away from her.

  She looked over her shoulder. Kian was standing in the tunnel, the hackles on his back rising. A low growl vibrated in his throat. Behind them in the dim light of their torches, Tyla could see their footprints and the unmistakable imprint of a massive paw.

  Kendrick drew his weapon as Jarrett struggled to stand again.

  “Please, Muzik,” pleaded Tyla, grasping his arm. “How do we get out of here?”

  He shook his head. “There was a trap door and a ladder.”

  “Could we have missed it?”

  “Maybe. I can’t remember.” His voice was edged with panic.

  Tyla’s eyes searched his face, but she knew there was no time to try and read his thoughts. Lowering her head, she closed her eyes, trying to forget the fear that pulsed around them. Her power whispered beyond her, flowing like smoke through the tight catacombs, probing the walls, curling across the ceiling, caressing the ground. She was aware of her companions whispering and of Kian’s growl, but she forced them to the back of her consciousness, letting her power slip farther and farther away from them. Opening her eyes, she pulled herself back to the moment, marking their battle-ready stances and the distant sounds of armored feet approaching.

  “This way,” she whispered and holding the torch aloft, turned down a tunnel on their right.

  They hesitated, then Jarrett followed her. As they went, the sounds of marching feet became distinct behind them. Jarrett stumbled, but Kendrick caught him, bracing him with his shoulder. Muzik pushed past them and took over rear guard.

  Slowing to a walk, Tyla lifted the torch. It illuminated the frayed edge of a rope ladder dangling from the ceiling. Suddenly Kendrick was at her side.

  “I’ll go first,” he said and tested the ladder before scrambling up to the trapdoor.

  He fumbled with something above his head, then shoved upward with his shoulders. A wedge of night sky shone down on them. His upper body slipped through the opening, then he climbed out and disappeared from sight.

  “Come up,” came his voice above them and Tyla could just make out his silhouette against a backdrop of stars.

  “What about Kian?” she said to Muzik.

  “No worries,” answered the captain. He reached down and bodily hauled the dog onto his shoulders.

  Tyla couldn’t help but laugh as Kian swung his heavy head around and looked at her as if to say Oh, the indignity. “Go on,” she motioned.

  Using one hand to hold the dog in place, Muzik gripped the rope in the other and began to climb. It groaned against his weight, but held and soon Tyla could see him lifting Kian into the open.

  “Can you make it?” she asked Jarrett. She had to try not to notice the sound of pursuit closing in on them.

  “After you,” he answered, his attention divided between the ladder and the tunnel behind them.

  Tyla started to protest, then decided they didn’t have time and grabbed the ladder. She didn’t like the way it swayed as she climbed, but she gritted her teeth and forced herself to keep going, knowing that Jarrett wouldn’t try it until she was safe.

  As soon as her head cleared the opening, Kendrick and Muzik hauled her to safety.

  “Now, Jarrett!” shouted Kendrick into the hole.

  Tyla glanced around. They’d climbed out of a manhole cover in the middle of an alley. Garbage lined both sides of the street, discarded boxes and foodstuff. The smell of rotting fruit was almost overpowering.

  Turning back around, she watched as Kendrick and Muzik hauled Jarrett through the opening, where he slumped beside them, breathing hard. Grabbing the knife Greypen had given her, she pushed past the three men and placed the blade against the ladder. Muzik reached to help her, but she started sawing on her own.

  The rope was dry and brittle, while the knife was sharp. She parted one half of it and set to work on the other. When she was almost through the other side, a flurry of movement caught her eye. She peered into the tunnel. A light was bobbing across the walls and floor.

  “Get back!” she hissed at her companions and continued to cut.

  A torch bobbed into view and she glanced down into the stunned eyes of a soldier.

  “Fire!” he shouted.

  Tyla ducked as they let loose a volley of arrows. Most struck the ceiling of the tunnel, but one whizzed past them, arcing as it lost velocity and falling to land on the other side of the trapdoor. One soldier grasped the ladder and started climbing, the rope swinging and spinning around and around. Tyla scrambled back to the remaining connection and began sawing again. The soldier was halfway up when the rope gave. He screamed as he fell, but he landed on a number of his fellow soldiers below him.

  Even as she chanced a last look inside, Kendrick pulled the trapdoor up, letting it fall with an echoing bang across the opening. Tyla closed her eyes and slumped beside the door for a moment, panting to regain her composure. She couldn’t begin to decide their next move.

  CHAPTER 12

  The four companions found themselves outside Tarnow’s catacombs on the streets of Adishian. It was cold without their parkas and the snow fell in driving flurries. Every so often lightning streaked across the sky, followed close behind by thunder.

  They stood above the trap door and watched the snow settle on its surface. “What now?” asked Jarrett, fighting to keep his eyes open. More than anything, he wanted to lay down where they were and sleep.

  Tyla glanced up at him, her emerald eyes glimmering in the light from the street lamp. “I wish I knew.”

  “There’s an old couple I know on the west end of Adishian that’ll be willing to help us, if we can just make it there,” came Muzik’s voice. “Come on, Jarrett. Let me lend you m
y shoulder for a while.”

  Jarrett accepted the help. Each step jarred his cracked ribs and his head ached. It took all of his concentration to fight the nausea that roiled inside of him. He tried to keep Tyla in his line of sight, but that was difficult. Colors and images became a blur, intermingled with sounds and strange smells.

  Tall buildings rose around them, situated on narrow streets. Sometimes refuse made passage difficult and the smell became sour and cloying. Other times the scent of onions and fish permeated everything. Flashes of lightning brought Jarrett to momentary awareness and he’d hunch his shoulders as the thunder rolled overhead, rumbling down into the narrow streets and shaking the panes of glass. Kian whined as it passed, his tail between his legs, his ears flattened.

  Jarrett tried to keep his discomfort from his companions, but after a time, Tyla slipped beneath his other arm to support him. The feel of her helped ground him a little, and he attempted to look around at their environment, but the cold and the length of the journey was soon pressing him back into a stupor.

  Finally Muzik turned into the walkway of a small blue cottage, covered heavily in snow. Jarrett roused himself enough to see the captain look up both ends of the street before opening the little gate. They hurried up the snowy walkway to the front door where Muzik rapped loudly.

  Jarrett leaned against the porch rail, fighting the trembling that had begun in his legs. If someone didn’t hurry to open the door, he was going to sink down right where he was. Cold and pain made his teeth chatter and he was grateful when Tyla pressed close against him, looking up at him with a concerned expression.

  Chains rattled on the opposite side of the door, then an elderly woman peered out, a lantern in her hand. When she caught sight of Muzik, she threw the door open and her eyes went wide. Jarrett caught Muzik’s quick shake of the head as if he was warning her about something. She clamped her mouth shut and motioned them in, leaning her head out to look down both sides of the street as they passed her.

  The room opened into a blessedly warm parlor with aged and faded furnishing and a brightly burning fire. Jarrett sank into the chair closest to the fire, unable to stand a moment longer. He watched as the little woman shut the door and bolted it, then settled the lantern on a side table and approached Muzik.

  The next moment she launched herself at the huge captain, who caught her in an embrace. Jarrett and Kendrick exchanged a look, but Tyla smiled. The little woman was saying something to Muzik, tears and laughter making her words difficult to understand.

  She was no larger than Tyla, silver hair pulled back in a bun. Her face was plump and red and friendly, and her small, dark brown eyes sparkled. After disengaging herself from Muzik’s grasp, she turned to Tyla and took her hands, bowing and pressing them to her lips.

  “Your Majesty,” she said, “this is a great honor.”

  Tyla pressed the hands that held hers. “The honor is ours. Thank you for opening your doors to us.”

  Muzik rested his hand on the old woman’s shoulder. “Your Majesty,” he said, “this is Sonyan Andrada, my mother.”

  “I figured as much,” replied Tyla. “I know there was no other way, but I’m sorry to have brought trouble to your door.”

  “You? Trouble? Your Majesty, please don’t speak this way. My husband and I are loyal subjects to the royalty of Adishian, not some piratical usurpers.”

  Tyla smiled. “I don’t doubt that, but the Front Guard will be searching for us. We can’t stay here.” Her eyes lifted to Muzik.

  Jarrett felt his heart sink, but he understood her reasoning.

  “You can stay until morning,” insisted Sonyan.

  Tyla started to protest, but Muzik forestalled her. “I took precautions when I joined the royal force, Your Majesty. No one knows that my parents are still alive. After I made captain, I brought them here from Marsino.” Muzik shifted uncomfortably. “Meaning no disrespect, Your Majesty, but I was never sure about the political situation with Sarkisian.”

  “It’s why he wanted to join. Muzik’s as loyal to Adishian as we are,” defended his mother.

  “We decided that they should take different names. Here no one knows them as Andradas. To their neighbors and friends they are the Langrils.”

  Tyla gave the mother and son a wry look. “I’m impressed.” Her eyes drifted to Jarrett. “All right, we’ll stay for the night.” She edged over to Jarrett’s side and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Sonyan, this is Jarrett and Kendrick,” she replied, motioning at the Nazarien. Kendrick gave Sonyan a low bow.

  Sonyan beamed with pleasure.

  “Jarrett’s hurt. Is there any place where he might be able to rest?”

  Jarrett glanced around the parlor. The cottage was small and cluttered with glass knickknack in the shape of various animals. Kian had already found a place beside the fire, his large head resting on his paws. He acted as if he’d been here before.

  Sonyan bustled forward at once. “He can have Muzik’s old room. Muzik, help him up, there’s a good boy, and let’s get him to bed. Then I have cold chicken and cheese for the rest of you. Are you hungry?”

  Tyla exhaled. “I’m starving,” she said with a laugh. “I can’t remember when I ate last.”

  “Poor darling,” muttered the little woman, headed toward the door across the parlor. Jarrett realized she’d completely forgotten her awe of Tyla’s identity.

  He allowed Muzik to haul him to his feet and let the captain drag him through the immaculate kitchen to a room in the back behind a wood burning stove. His legs crumpled as Muzik eased him down on the bed.

  He had the sensation of clean linens, a tufted quilt and warmth, before he sank back against feather pillows. Tyla appeared beside him, fussing with something on a nightstand beside the bed, and someone was removing his boots.

  Sleep, came Tyla’s thoughts and Jarrett let himself sink away, forgetting the danger they had faced only a few hours before.

  * * *

  The kitchen was tiny, but immaculately clean. A row of white porcelain dishes encircled the entire room and shelves on one wall were covered with more of the tiny glass animals. Tyla looked around and liked the feel of it. It was warm and cozy, and it felt very much like home. She glanced at Sonyan and thought suddenly of her own mother. Had she ever had a home like this one – simple and warm?

  An elderly man appeared with Muzik, wiping sleep from his eyes and pulling on a rough blue work shirt. He was nearly as tall as Muzik and as wide in the shoulders. His hair had thinned and he scratched the bald crown of his head with two fingers. He looked around the room, then his eyes fell on Tyla. He rushed to her side and bowed low.

  “Your Majesty, we are so honored...”

  “Please rise,” said Tyla, taking his hands in her own.

  “This is my father, Your Highness,” said Muzik, “Gaff Andrada.”

  “Thank you for welcoming us into your home,” said Tyla, smiling. “You’ve taken a great risk for us.”

  Gaff shook his head. “No risk is too great for my son and our Queen. When we heard Rarick had arrived, we feared for your safety. You don’t know what it means to us to see that you’re both well.”

  “Thank you, Gaff,” she said. “I promise we won’t stay long.”

  “Stay as long as necessary, Your Majesty. Muzik informed me that one of your companions was injured.”

  Tyla nodded. “He’s resting in Muzik’s room now. I hope he’ll be well enough to travel come morning.” Her eyes drifted to her other companions. “That is if we can find a way to get out of this mess.”

  “That can wait until morning,” answered Sonyan. “Tonight we’ll eat and get some sleep.” She pulled on a parka as she spoke, then opened the backdoor and went out into the night.

  Gaff grabbed three plates off a shelf above the dry sink and Muzik gathered the silverware.

  “Please sit, Your Majesty,” offered the older man, motioning at a chair.

  Tyla sank into it, realizing that she was exhausted. She watched a
s Sonyan returned with fried chicken and a round of cheese. She deposited both on the table and began distributing them between the plates. Tyla watched her hands, her stomach knotting with hunger.

  “I’m sorry it’s cold, Your Majesty,” she said, placing a plate before Tyla, “but it was in the cold storage out back. Leftovers, I know, are not what you’re used to, but I’m afraid it’s all I can summon at this moment.”

  Tyla studied the food, then lifted her eyes to Muzik’s mother. “You have no idea how good this looks. I can’t remember my last meal.”

  And without another thought, she dug into the simple fare. Never could she remember anything tasting the way this meal did, washed down with a glass of cold water and a slice of cake for dessert.

  Gradually, as the food settled and her limbs thawed, Tyla was able to shift her thinking from survival to something more. She was free of Rarick, free of her duty as Queen of Adishian, free of all control whatsoever.

  She was free.

  * * *

  Morning came quickly. Tyla rose at dawn and woke Jarrett. After she cleaned his wounds and gave him a little more of the brown root, she went in search of Muzik and Kendrick. Sonyan told her they were in the backyard, collecting stores from the cold locker. Gaff had gone to try to obtain parkas or some other outerwear for them.

  When the two men returned from the cold locker, Sonyan began preparing a meal. Kendrick offered his help, which Sonyan accepted, but the room was too small for any other assistance. Muzik wisely positioned himself in a corner behind the table, trying to keep his bulk from being an obstruction.

  Once it was complete, they ate in silence. Tyla’s attention was divided between listening for sounds outside of the cottage and studying her tense companions. After she’d eaten as much as she could, she rose to her feet and retrieved the plate Sonyan had prepared for Jarrett. Taking it to his room, she found him sleeping. Rather than wake him, she settled it on the nightstand beside his bed and returned to the kitchen.