Andalon Awakens

by T B Phillips

  “Yes. That’s right. Do you know the area?” The man appeared noticeably shocked that she had.

  The mention of her hometown took her back to her childhood. She remembered the dirt streets, the smell of the bakery and the sounds that came from the inn every evening. With her father being the constable, her family knew everyone in the town and surrounding villages. Growing up, she even remembered a Wembley. She narrowed her eyes and looked closely at the stranger.

  “Ma’am,” the man gestured toward the wolf at her side, “can you make your wolf stand down? He is quite unnerving, and I promise no harm.”

  Looking down, she realized the huge animal was matching her own posture, defensive, unsure and wary. “um… Sit.” The animal looked at her, and then sat like a trained domestic. Eusari shrugged.

  “Thank you.”

  “You say that you’re Shon Wembley?”

  “Yes ma’am. From Brentway.”

  “What was the name of the constable during the last Northern raid?” She narrowed her eyes awaiting his response.

  It was his turn to be taken aback. This was not a question he had expected to ever answer, but he did. Without hesitation he responded, “Franque Thorinson was the constable during the raid.” Standing a little taller, he proudly added, “I fought along-side him and watched as the northern devil killed him.” She felt his words rip scabs over memories that had healed years before. “He was my mentor and my friend.” Indicating his bow, he added, “He even taught me how to use this.”

  She fought back a tear, then asked her next question, “How many children did he have?”

  “Four. Three sons, Franque, Thom and Jean and one daughter, Eusari.”

  “What happened to his children?”

  He eyed her suspiciously, but continued, “Franque and Jean have nice little farms outside of town. Thom was taken by the gods last year, along with his wife and youngest child. Franque is raising their oldest daughter, Anne.”

  “What about Franque’s daughter? What about Eusari.”

  Realization spread across his face as he looked upon her differently. “You have my sister’s eyes, dear. I don’t know how I didn’t recognize you at once. It is you, isn’t it, dearie?”

  Tears flowing from her eyes, she nodded. “It’s been a long time, Uncle Shon.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Maximus Reeves sat atop his destrier on a hill overlooking Weston. He winced at the memory of the last time he sat upon this rise, when Robert had pushed him to charge the city. That had been a foolish act, but the boy had finally shown his courageous spirit. The boy no longer. That was the day that Maximus forever considered Robert Esterling a man. He had shown more backbone and far stronger resolve than the most decorated general in the empire had shown on that day.

  Thinking about Robert made him anxious. It had been more than a week since he had disappeared, and Max feared the worse. He wished that he had not turned the army around and marched away from Robert, leaving him standing alone shouting at the councilman. He had assumed that the prince would have followed the column, but he did not. Maximus felt personally responsible for leaving him behind.

  A rider approached from camp and the general looked up to see Captain Titus approaching. “Sir.” The man gave a crisp salute as he pulled back on his reigns.

  “Well?”

  “Still no sign of the prince, sir.”

  “What do our agents say?”

  “We have twenty men within the walls scouring the city. He’s not imprisoned as far as we can tell, and he hasn’t been staying in the palace.”

  Max let out a breath, relieved but feeling disheartened from the news. “Keep looking. Check everywhere, even the alleyways.” Grimacing, he added, “Every time a body turns up, have one of our men check it. You know, just to be sure.” Time was running out for the prince. Eventually, the army would have to break camp and move further away from the city, but he would drag his feet as long as he could. Robert was alive, or at least he tried to convince himself that it was so.

  Consumed in his thoughts, the general pictured the worse. If only he had more spies in the city. “Do we have any word on the Falconer who fled?”

  “No, General. We assume he fled to Eston.”

  “Then that will be all, Captain. Let me know the moment any news arrives from Eston.” He waited for the officer to leave him to his thoughts, irritated that he lingered. “Is there something else, Titus?”

  “Sir…” The man shifted his weight in the saddle, then leaned forward to reassuringly pat the neck of his mount. Max frowned as he realized that the man needed more reassurance than the beast.

  “Spit it out, man!”

  “Sir, when you and Prince Robert charged through the gate…”

  Reeves cut off the junior officer with irritation in his voice. “Yes. That was bold, brash and stupid. I know.”

  “Yes sir.” Max shot him a look of caution. “I mean no, sir. I mean…”

  “Well was it or wasn’t it? Gods, man, how did you finish the academy?”

  “General, what I mean is that... well... When you and the prince charged the gate the arrows were bending, Sir.” Captain Titus stared at the ground as he spoke, ashamed but evidently believing the words.”

  “For Cinder’s sake. What the devil are you talking about?” Max pierced the man with his eyes, clearly confused, irritated, and annoyed.

  “The arrows. They flew directly at you both, but then bent around like you had a shield ten feet behind you.”

  “What?”

  “They deflected. No. Diffracted around you with a curve. A parabolic curve, Sir.”

  “Captain, have you been drinking?” Max readied himself to dismount and strike the man from his horse and have him flogged.

  “No, Sir. I’m sober.” He paused, then added, “General, the other men saw it too. The entire camp is talking about it. They think the prince was divinely protected.” The man lifted his gaze and looked directly into Max’s eyes. Gods, he really believed what he was saying. “You too, Sir. The scuttlebutt is that you are both destined by the gods to lead the empire. They are happy to serve you both, Sir.”

  Max took this in. Although he did not believe in superstitious nonsense, this would be helpful. The Prince would eventually need an army of dedicated and zealous loyalists if he were to overthrow his mother. “Then pray, Captain. Pray that the gods are watching over him now. That they’re keeping him safe.” He turned his head so that the man would not see the tears blurring his eyes for the boy. “Wherever the Prince may be.”

  He continued to look the other way as the captain gave another salute and rode off to rejoin the main army. He immediately dismissed the officer’s report as superstition. Useful superstition, but superstition all the same.

  Maximus, again alone, felt the worry in his heart deepen at the lack of news. Where could the prince be? He’d most likely stick close to the Horslei girl. He shook his head at this, thinking about how she had manipulated and played Robert over the past months. He didn’t doubt that her father had put her up to the relationship to curry favor with the Esterling family. But the way she had flipped on Robert in favor of the Pescari was a problem. His brow furrowed as he remembered. The heartbreak must have been devastating to the prince.

  The general’s eyes again rested on the city, pondering hiding places and wondering if Eachann would be bold enough to imprison the Imperial emissary. If he did, then Maximus Reeves would personally lead the charge to crush him.

  A shout from the main camp snapped General Reeves to immediate attention. Another rider rode with haste with Captain Titus, who wheeled his steed and sprinted back up the hill to his commander. News of Robert at last? He offered a prayer to the gods above that it was good news.

  “General Reeves!” Both the man and beast were out of breath when they reached the hilltop. “The Queen Regent i
s dead. The younger Esterling brother has laid claim to the throne and declared Prince Robert an outlaw.”

  Max felt the bottom fall out of his heart and into his stomach. “Get your ass into that city and find the boy!”

  Sarai walked beside Taros as they made their way to the newly designated Pescari district. Eachann had wasted no time clearing out the previous residents, relocating them to a more appropriate area on the far side of the city. The borough chosen for the Pescari had been run down and largely ignored in the past, but builders were hard at work making improvements.

  Sarai briefly considered why this area had been neglected before the arrival of the Pescari, but knew that it was part of Eachann’s voting district. She speculated that her father and his cronies had blocked his efforts and prevented the vital monies necessary for improving the infrastructure.

  The existing buildings had been emptied in advance of the new occupants, and Sarai noticed the Pescari had settled in quite easily. “Have your people had any problem with the other citizens?”

  “Just the expected. Westonians are afraid of us and think that we are savages. Every now and then, someone will throw rotten fruit or insults, but your city guards chase them away.”

  Sarai nodded. Cassus had given strict orders that no one would harm the newcomers, but he had doubled patrols just in case. “I’m so sorry, Taros.” She placed her hand on his arm, letting it linger as they walked. She felt comfortable with the boy and wanted him to feel at ease.

  As they strolled through the city, Sarai thought about Robert and the similar walks they used to take. She had not seen the prince since that horrible night and assumed that he had left with General Reeves. In a way, she was upset that he had not fought harder for her. She still loved him; despite that he had tried to march against the poor Pescari. In her heart she hoped that he would come back to her, realize his folly and apologize, then help her and Eachann to rebuild the city into a place where everyone would be welcome.

  “Are you well, Sarai?”

  “What? Oh, I’m sorry, Taros. My mind wandered.”

  “We are here. This is what I wanted to show you.”

  Sarai looked up and saw that they had reached the center of the district. Her eyes beamed when she looked at Taros’ surprise, and she threw her arms around him in a big, friendly hug that nearly knocked him off his feet. The public display caught the attention of several nearby Pescari women who frowned their disapproval. Ignoring their stares, she grabbed him by the hand and dragged him inside the construction site, excited to see the layout of the new meeting lodge.

  Flaya watched as the Shappan walked with the girl with the yellow hair. Her jealousy burned as the girl placed her hands on his arms in such an intimately familiar way, but she followed them through the streets just the same. He and Sarai had been venturing out publicly more often, and many of the Pescari had noticed that Taros spent more of his time with the Westonians than his own people. But Flaya had especially noticed that he spent more time with his yellow-haired princess then any of them.

  She watched as the two stopped in front of the meeting lodge and felt anger well up when the girl wrapped her arms around Taros. Worse, the whore had grabbed the Shappan’s hand and took him inside of the lodge, the most sacred of places in the Pescari culture. Squinting, she looked high up at the midday sky at Felicima, who had witnessed the brazen afront to propriety.

  Flaya scurried to the elder’s lodge, leaving her chores. Knocking, she waited until the door to the lodge opened and Daska stepped out.

  “What is it, Granddaughter?”

  “I watched the Shappan like you asked me, and I watched him take the girl into the new meeting lodge.”

  Daska bowed his head, shaking it with disgust. Squinting up he remarked, “And in the eyes of Felicima as well. Have you been able to speak to him or get him alone since we arrived at the city?”

  “No, Grandfather. He is always with that girl.”

  Nodding, he reassured her. “Keep trying. Our people need to win him back from the temptations of this foreign culture, and you are key to that.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Shon Wembley stared at his niece with shock and amazement. He had last seen her when Krist Braston of Fjorik raided Brentway fourteen years earlier. Looking at her now, he had no doubt she was truly his niece.

  “Where have you been, dearie? Where did they take you?”

  Eusari wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “That doesn’t matter.” Sniffling a little, she tried to regain her composure.

  Shon showed concern when a thought crossed his mind, “Sari, are you still their captive? Do they still own you?”

  Anger flashed across her face. “No man owns me, uncle!”

  He flinched at her response and paused a moment before changing the subject. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t fully honest when I didn’t know who you were.” Her head cocked at this. “I had been watching the boats in the landing and saw the black one fire upon the Northmen. I only know them to be raiders and opportunists. When I first saw you, I was trying to learn what side you were on. Sari, if you’re in trouble, I can help you.”

  Nodding, she answered, “I understand, but it isn’t what you think, Shon. I captain the smaller vessel.”

  “What? Truly?” This entire conversation baffled the former constable. “Why is the northern vessel here? Are they raiding?”

  “No. It isn’t like that.”

  More concern crossed his face. “Eusari, are you with them?”

  She shook her head. “Come back with me and I’ll explain everything. I need to help my men drag the new mast that they’re cutting, and they should be finishing up.”

  They turned to leave and the large wolf stood and stretched. It followed, matching Eusari’s stride. Shon marveled. “How long have you had this magnificent animal?”

  His niece turned and looked at the beast. “I’ve never seen it before today.” Shrugging, she added, “It just laid down by me.”

  The wolf unnerved Shon. Keeping his distance from the animal, he followed to where her men had cut the log. They had trimmed it and tied it with ropes to aid in dragging. At their approach, the men, who were resting on the ground, leaped to their feet, some drawing weapons. Shon watched as Eusari raised her hand.

  “Stand down. He’s with me.” She nodded at the huge wolf and added, “So is the wolf.”

  One of the men asked, “What in the name of Cinder, Captain? Did you literally just walk into the forest, find a wolf and say, ‘you’re my puppy, follow me?’ Because honestly, that’s the sort of the shit that you’d do.” The other men laughed and Wembley watched as she smiled.

  “Yes, Jacque. I challenged the wolfpack and told the biggest, meanest beast that I’d castrate him if he didn’t follow me.”

  The men laughed again, and the one called Jacque added, “Isn’t that how you got us to follow, Captain?”

  Shon could instantly tell that she captained these men. She had their total allegiance; despite that they were obvious cutthroats and pirates. Realization crossed his face, as he thought about her small black vessel and how it had fired upon the longboat in the harbor. “Eusari, do you captain the infamous She Wolf?”

  She looked up and flashed a smile with a brief wink, taking away his breath. Tales of her smuggling exploits had reached as far as Logan. As a constable, he was well aware of the legal dispatches sent by the Empire, oftentimes describing daring and brutal actions by a ‘lady pirate.’ He stared in disbelief.

  Pointing at the log, she asked, “Are you going to sit there and drool on yourself, or are you going to help us drag this back to town?”

  An hour later the work detail returned to Estowen’s Landing and a small man with a large head met them on the pier. Shon noted that both ships were tied, and both crews worked together.

  The little man spoke with a stutter, “Wuh… wha
t’s with the wolf, Eusari?” It was sitting, yawning next to her. Even seated, the top of its head reached her shoulder. Gesturing in Wembley’s direction, the man asked, “And huh… who is this?”

  Eusari bravely wrapped her arm around her new wolf and answered, “This is my new first mate, Sippen.” Indicating Shon, she added, “And this is Shon Wembley from Loganshire. Shon, meet Sippen Yurik of Fjorik.”

  The former constable was reaching his hand in greeting, but pulled back as if he had seen a snake. “Pardon me if I don’t shake your hand, but I don’t shake hands with murderers and rapists from Fjorik.”

  “Shon!” Eusari called out.

  Sippen simply nodded and bowed gently. Without stuttering he stated, “If my people have wronged you then I’m truly sorry.” Turning to Eusari he added, “I will fuh… fetch my captain.” He made his way from the pier to the wharf and proceeded inside a building.

  Shon turned to Eusari. “I can’t forgive those vermin.” Shaking his head, he said, “They destroyed our lives and took everything. How can you be walking among them, working with them after all that they took from you? My sister, your mother? I found her dead and raped in your home, Sari. Axe handle shoved up inside of her. And what about your father? I watched him die.”

  Eusari looked down at the ground. “I know very well what they took from us. But you’ve no idea how they impacted me.” She looked up, anger smoldering in her eyes. “The fact that I trust this man and his captain should be enough for you.”

  “Don’t betray your people, Eusari.”

  “My people?” Her eyes flared with venom and she took two steps toward her newly found uncle. “My people?” The wolf emitted a low and rumbly growl, and Shon broke his eyes from Eusari’s to check the animal. She took another step toward him. “I have no people except them men who have sailed, stolen, and fought alongside me. I have no family. No mother. No father.”

  Feeling something pressing in his groin, Shon looked down and saw that she had drawn a blade and touched it to his artery. He stammered, “Eusari... I... I’m sorry.”