The World of Samar Box Set 3

by M. L. Hamilton

  Parish gave a nod, then turned, barking orders at his men. In a matter of seconds, most of them had departed, leaving only a handful behind to guard the prisoners.

  * * *

  Kalas paced the front yard. Elvert still sat in his chair, bound, his eyes following the King, a slight smile on his lips. He was enjoying this. Amaroq braced his head in his hands. Being in this spot with such a conflict of emotions was making his skin crawl. His composure had been destroyed long ago. Where was his sister? What was happening to her? Would he ever find her again?

  Shandar nudged him with his shoulder. “Go inside and rest. You need to get away from this for a while.”

  Amaroq shook his head. “There’s no escaping this.”

  Shandar started to speak, but Parish suddenly appeared, striding across the complex. “Your Majesty?”

  Kalas whipped around.

  “Come with me.”

  Kalas glanced over his shoulder at Amaroq and Amaroq rose to his feet. “Dolan, you’re in charge,” Kalas told his second.

  Dolan inclined his head.

  The two brothers moved toward Parish with Shandar and Nakoda just behind them. Parish gave Kalas a grim look.

  “Well?” Kalas demanded.

  “This way.” He turned and led them back the way he’d come.

  “Baron, what did you find?”

  “We found the slaves.”

  Kalas caught his arm. “Alive?”

  Amaroq could feel Parish’s despair. “Some.”

  “Aiden Cerik?”

  “No grown men, Your Majesty.”

  They quickened their pace up the road away from the house. They came to a barn, weathered by wind and rain, the red paint peeling away. Soldiers guarded the open doors and Parish motioned inside.

  He led them to the back where a trap door had been hidden by hastily strewn straw. Light spilled out of the opening and a spiral staircase could be seen, descending into a cellar of some sort. “Watch your step, Your Majesty. The staircase isn’t the sturdiest I’ve seen. In fact, let me go first.”

  Amaroq felt his heart pounding in his throat. His chest felt tight and his hands were sweating. He watched Kalas descend, then he followed him, dropping to the ground inside a lava tunnel that was wide enough for three men abreast and at least six feet tall.

  Chained to the walls were people, or what had once been people. Soldiers moved among them offering them water, working on releasing them from their chains. Amaroq counted seventeen, but a few were sprawled against the tunnel walls, their eyes open and glassy, their mouths hanging slack. Dead.

  “Eldon’s bloody star!” whispered Kalas, moving down the line.

  The smell was overpowering and Amaroq fought down his gag reflex as he followed the King. Hair matted, open wounds, lying in their own filth, these people were emaciated, hollow-eyed, some unable to take the water offered to them. Flies buzzed about their eyes and in their hair, walked across their open wounds.

  Amaroq shuddered as misery unlike anything he’d ever experienced washed over him. It pressed on him, hammered in his skull, made breathing difficult. Shandar gripped his shoulder, but it did no good. There was no escaping this.

  “Go back up,” Shandar said. “I’ll look for her.”

  Amaroq shook his head. “I have to look.” Not that he was sure he’d recognize his own sister anymore. Scars marked skin that wasn’t raw, and flesh had pulled so taut against bones that the faces appeared death-masks to the living forms.

  Still he walked down the line and a growing sense of dread filled him. She wasn’t here, but what did it mean if she wasn’t? Did they keep her some place else? Some place worse? Or was she dead? Had they abandoned her corpse along the way as they had that other woman, leaving her to rot where even her family could never find her again?

  “No punishment is bad enough!” growled Kalas, his gaze roving down the line. He met his brother’s eyes. “Is she here?”

  “No,” said Shandar.

  Amaroq couldn’t answer. Panic and despair gripped him so tight, he felt as if he might explode. After all this time, all these miles, to come here to this hell and end up empty handed was more than he could fathom.

  Nakoda turned to face him, and for the first time, he saw in his friend’s eyes what he’d feared all along. His sister was dead.

  Even as the thought formed, he shied away from it. He couldn’t accept that. He couldn’t believe that Naia with her bright smile and gentle ways was gone forever. Nothing could make him believe it.

  He turned abruptly and started for the stairs again.

  “Wolf!” shouted Shandar, but he ignored him.

  Climbing, he came out of the trapdoor, moving across the barn floor without realizing where he was going. Before he knew it, he was in the open again, the smell of fresh earth and sunlight filling his nostrils. He kept moving, headed downhill toward the compound, his companions hurrying along in his wake, but he didn’t bother to acknowledge them.

  He couldn’t, wouldn’t accept that his sister was gone. He had to know. He had to have some proof or he would never be able to move on from this waking nightmare again. He entered the compound and his focus zeroed in on Elvert, still sitting in his chair.

  Dolan looked up as he stalked the bound man, but he didn’t realize what he was going to do until it was too late. Amaroq backhanded the slaver, his blow so violent, he sent the man and the chair sprawling onto one side.

  Soldiers exclaimed and Shandar shouted his name again, but he didn’t care. He braced a knee in the man’s chest and leaned all of his weight on him, bringing his face close to the other man’s.

  “Where’s my sister?”

  Elvert shook his head, dazed, and fought for his next breath.

  Amaroq pressed more weight on him. “Tell me! Where is she?”

  Elvert met his gaze. “She went into the river.”

  “What?”

  “She went into the river with the Dorlandian King.”

  “Did she drown?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Amaroq reared off him and reached for the brand, hauling it out of the brazier. Elvert gave a moan, but Amaroq didn’t care, bringing the brand back, prepared to bash the man’s brains out.

  Just as he started to swing, Kalas threw himself in front of the slaver, grabbing Amaroq’s arm with both hands. They struggled for a moment until Kalas was able to wrench the brand away.

  “Not like this!” he shouted, shoving Amaroq in the chest.

  Amaroq staggered back, breathing hard.

  “Not like this!” He threw the brand into the dirt, then he caught Amaroq’s face in both hands. “I know you’re not a killer!”

  “He took my sister!” He couldn’t catch his breath. “He took her!”

  “I know and we’ll find her. We’ll find her, Wolf. Trust me!”

  Amaroq closed his eyes and fought for air.

  “Trust me!” said Kalas again.

  And slowly, Amaroq nodded.

  * * *

  Parish smoothed out the map on the kitchen table, indicating a dark circle that had been marked over an area of the Ethicon River. “The slaver estimates they went into the river about here.” He tapped the spot. “It seems reasonable since we found the body here.” He pointed to a dark X near the top of the circle. “And Duard’s homestead is here.” His finger slid over to a second X on the bottom of the circle.

  Amaroq studied the map. “The Ethicon flows south toward the ocean, which means the closest point of habitation and the closest place to get help is Tirsbor.” He glanced up at Kalas.

  The King stood between Parish and Dolan on the other side of the table. Amaroq’s companions had taken seats, while Halish stood in the open doorway, keeping everyone out. “Would Naia know that?”

  “She’d know it,” said Shandar. “And if she’s with the Dorlandian King, Naia would understand how important it would be to return him to his kingdom.”

  Kalas took that in.

  “The slaves are t
oo weak to travel, Your Majesty,” said Parish. “And we can’t drag the slavers with us to Tirsbor.”

  “Which is why you’ll have to stay here with the soldiers.” Kalas glanced over his shoulder at the doorway. “Terra Antiguo is between us and Dorland. Halish will go to Lawyan for help. Lawyan will send healers, supplies, and reinforcements. His soldiers can escort the slavers back to Terra Antiguo for trial.”

  “If these are the slavers who abducted Aiden Cerik, shouldn’t they be tried in Dorland?” said Parish.

  The King and Dolan exchanged a look. “Terra Antiguo works well for that,” said Kalas.

  Shandar followed the exchange. “You don’t trust Adison Cerik, do you?”

  Kalas gave a noncommittal shrug. Amaroq knew, however, that he didn’t trust Halish completely either.

  “Hold on,” said Parish. “You said I’d have to stay here with the soldiers.”

  “You’re my captain of the guard.”

  “Where will you be?”

  “Headed to Tirsbor,” said Kalas, straightening.

  Exclamations rose in the room. Amaroq met his brother’s steady gaze.

  “I can’t spare any soldiers right now, Your Majesty!” protested Parish.

  “And you won’t.”

  “You’re not going out into the wilderness without protection.”

  “Dolan will come with me, and I’ll be with my uncle and brother. Nakoda makes five of our men, and I’m not completely without skill.”

  “No, I won’t allow it,” said Parish, crossing his arms over his chest. “Tell him this is madness,” he ordered Dolan.

  Dolan drew a deep breath and released it. “I think it’s dangerous too, Your Majesty, and I wish you’d reconsider.”

  “That’s it! That’s all the stronger you’re going to be about this!” grumbled Parish. He turned to Shandar. “Forbid it.”

  Shandar held out his hands. “You don’t forbid an Eldralin anything, Parish. You should know that better than anyone else.”

  Amaroq followed the exchange, but he felt anxious to get on the trail again. All the talk these people did was pointless. Still, it occurred to him that Kalas was as much a prisoner of his circumstances as Amaroq had always been, but he sensed Kalas wasn’t one to give up on something when he had his mind set.

  Kalas touched Parish’s shoulder. “I promised to find the King of Dorland, in addition to breaking up the slavery ring. We’ve done the latter. All that remains is the former.”

  “Let Dolan go with them. You don’t have to go. You can stay here with me. Be reasonable, Your Majesty. If you aren’t going to think of the good of your kingdom, think of your wife and daughter.”

  “I’m as well protected in the company of three Nazarien as I am here. And you forget, my uncle protected my father for decades.”

  “He’s an old man!” snapped Parish, then he gave Shandar an apologetic shrug.

  “We’re the same age, Baron,” said Shandar levelly, “and I’m full-blooded Stravad.”

  “Kalas…” pleaded Parish.

  “Parish, listen.” He glanced at Amaroq. “I just found out I have a brother. And as you pointed out, my uncle’s an old man now…”

  “Hey!” barked Shandar.

  Kalas gave a half-smile. “Would you deny me the opportunity to spend time with both of them? I am always the servant of my people, and you know there’s no one more important to me than my wife and daughter, but this, Parish, this is something I want to do for me.” He clasped the older man’s shoulders. “I want to know my brother, Baron. Is that so wrong?”

  Amaroq looked down, humbled. He’d been so afraid Kalas would resent him. He’d never expected for more than tolerance, never dreamed he’d receive acceptance. “He will be protected with my life and the lives of those who travel with us, Baron,” he said. “Of that you can be certain.”

  Parish exhaled, lifting his hands and letting them fall against his thighs. “Fine. We’ll do it your way. I’ll stay here with the slaves and slavers, Halish will go to Terra Antiguo for help, and you’ll go do some foolishly unnecessary risk taking, while using your Eldralin charm to get your way as always.”

  Kalas shrugged. “At least I didn’t pull my King card.”

  “I suspect that was next in your repertoire.”

  “It usually is.”

  Parish nodded. “It usually is, so why do I even try?”

  “No idea,” said Kalas, smiling.

  CHAPTER 20

  Naia entered her mother and Shandar’s cavern after her bath, feeling both happy and strangely disconcerted. Nothing had changed in Tirsbor. Nothing had really changed in her home either, except that maybe her mother had a few more lines around her mouth and eyes and was a little thinner.

  It felt good to be clean. It was so good to see her mother, even Zander, but she didn’t like being separated from Aiden and Le. In a short time, they’d become her family and she wanted to be with them. But that wasn’t the way in Tirsbor. Her mother’s relationship with Shandar was one thing. People frowned on it, but they wouldn’t openly denounce it. Shandar was too important to the history of her people to be denied his wishes.

  Her mother, Kaelene, and Shandar had been mates for all of Naia’s life. She felt fortunate to be the only female she knew who had a father in more than name. Shandar had always filled that role for her. Without him and her brother here, the cave felt empty. She ached to see them again.

  She smiled at Kaelene now as she ducked under the door flap. Kaelene smiled back, holding out her hands. Naia dropped her bundle of rags on the floor and hurried around the fire, dropping to her knees and curling her arms around her waist. She banded Naia with her arms and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

  This part of the homecoming felt right.

  Her mother’s hand stroked down her hair and Naia looked up into her brimming eyes. ‘I’m so glad you came back to us,’ she motioned, then swiped at the tears.

  ‘I’m glad to be home,’ she responded, ‘but what about Amaroq and Shandar? What’s being done to find them?’

  Kaelene shook her head. ‘We have no word.’

  ‘Why was Amaroq allowed to leave? He’s never left before.’

  “He had no choice,” said Kaelene. Naia read her lips. Brushing the hair off her daughter’s shoulder, she cupped her under the chin. “He had to find you. No one was going to stop him.”

  Guilt rose inside Naia. If anything happened to her brother, she wouldn’t be able to stand it. ‘Aiden will help us find him.’

  “Aiden? The King of Dorland? I know who he is Naia. Human Kings do not help Nazarien women.”

  ‘You don’t understand,’ she motioned.

  Kaelene looked deep into her eyes. “Forget this King, Naia. You do not belong in the same worlds. He will go home to his people and your world is here with us.”

  Naia lifted her hands to protest, but she felt a presence at the mouth of the cavern and looked up. Zander stood in the doorway, awaiting their attention. Naia moved out of her mother’s arms and wiped at the tears on her face. Her mother did the same.

  “Tovan requests your presence in his cavern,” Zander said.

  She’d been expecting as much, but hadn’t thought the order would come so quickly. She nodded absently and then looked at her mother.

  Kaelene covered her mouth with a hand, her eyes brimming again. Naia pulled her hand down and kissing the back of it. ‘It will be all right,’ she signed. ‘Amaroq will come home to us. I know it.’

  Kaelene nodded.

  * * *

  Aiden and Le looked up when Naia and her mother ducked under the door flap. They were sitting around the fire in the large main cavern, flanked on both sides by Nazarien warriors, Tovan, and his second-in-command. He and Le had been telling their individual stories just a moment before, but Aiden fell silent.

  His dark eyes fixed on Naia. She met his gaze and gave him a warm smile. Her hair was brushed, clean and glimmering blue-black in the lantern and fire light. It hung to
her waist and swayed with the motion of her hips when she walked. She was dressed in a clean pair of trousers that hugged her slender shape and a white shirt with full sleeves. Earrings dangled from her ears, all three in the shape of a Nazarien scythe, and a single pendant (the Star of Eldon) hung from a chain around her neck. Aiden couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  He caught the negligent motion of Tovan’s hand from the corner of his eyes and Naia and her mother moved to obey him at once. They were seated on the commander’s right side, his second-in-command between them. Naia shot the large, scowling man a glance and dropped her eyes to her hands again. The Nazarien commander didn’t stop glaring at her, however.

  “We’ve been waiting,” said Tovan, draping his forearm over his bent knee in a casual gesture. “Our guests have been explaining how they each came to be in the hands of slavers. As we are all well aware of how the girl found herself in the same situation, we can move on.” He made a negligent motion with the hand hanging over his knee. “Continue,” he told Aiden.

  Aiden frowned. Nazarien or not, he showed surprisingly little care regarding her return one way or another. And then there was the problem of his commanding tone. Slave or not, Aiden wasn’t used to being spoken to in such a manner.

  “If you don’t mind, Commander, I’m curious about your reaction. One of your own has just returned to you after weeks of living among slavers. The fact she made it out alive is a feat worthy of your most skilled warrior…”

  Indignant murmurings rose around them. The commander held up a hand for silence. Naia seemed distressed, studying him and the other warriors.

  The commander stroked his chin. “You don’t know our ways, Aiden Cerik,” he said. “Therefore, your ignorant remark will be excused.”

  Aiden’s anger flared. “Perhaps if you explain why my remark was ignorant, you might educate me against making any more.”

  Although they didn’t voice their disapproval, Aiden felt a wave pass through the gathered warriors. Zander looked particularly uncomfortable. Tovan and his second exchanged a brief glance, then the older man made the same annoying motion with his hand.