The Vordalyn 2

by Michael T Payne

  “Tursil, Commander.” The soldier answered. Satana stepped back to the center of the aisle that separated the two rows of beds then looked around the barracks to see if maybe Tursil had not made it to his bed yet.

  “Tursil, stand forth!” She commanded looking around for him. Then she spotted another empty bed. “Whose bed is that?” She asked then marched over to it pointing at it all the way there.

  “Polick, Commander!” The soldier next to it spoke up quickly.

  “Polick!” She called, “Stand forth!” She looked around again. No-one stepped forward. “This is not discipline!” She announced to the entire group of soldiers. The men were terrified of Satana and angry at Fowlin, because they knew whatever punishment was going to be visited upon him would be visited upon them all as a unit. “No one can say where your brothers are?” She asked walking the line of soldiers on either side if her staring them down one at a time searching for an answer. No one would dare make eye contact with her. “This is what passes for discipline in the decorated and celebrated First Legion?” She asked as she turned in a circle daring one of them to say otherwise, “King Dracon’s personal legion?” She asked shaking her head in disbelief, “Is it because he is not here your so lax in your duties?” Singing could be heard approaching the barracks from outside. Satana stood facing the door with her hands on her hips and a snarl on her face. She was extremely upset for other reasons that made the simple missing soldier event, more monumental than it was. Especially that it was Fowlin, who was known for such things. The door burst opened and Fowlin and Polick entered, carrying Tursil between them. Tursil was passed out.

  “Who but we!” Fowlin started but stopped immediately when he saw Satana standing there looking at them.

  “Are worthy to…” Polick continued but also let his words die in the air. They panted from carrying Tursil and singing, their panting was all that could be heard for a minute. Satana marched toward Fowlin, who let go of Tursil and turned to run back out the door. Tursil’s dead weight swung into Polick, who then struggled to catch him and keep him standing, then let him go in a heap to the ground. Satana reached Polick as Fowlin was opening the door. She punched Polick in his throat on her way by and caught Fowlin by the hair on the back of his head before he could get fully out the door. He made a scream when he felt her hand grab his head. The soldiers behind them stepped out of formation to watch for the next few minutes as Satana easily beat both men, chasing them like a mother chases a crying child who is being spanked. Both tried to fight back, because if they didn’t, they knew she would make it worse. Always fight. Finally, Satana relented and walked back to the center of the room. She looked around at the rest of the men who refused to make eye contact with her for fear it would constitute a challenge. She faced the three men by the door. Polick and Fowlin both were on one knee while Tursil lay completely passed out on the floor.

  “Where were you?” She asked Fowlin with a growl. Fowlin put his hand up for her to wait a second while he caught his breath. She started toward him again with bad intentions in her eyes.

  “We were out drinking!” he said backing away from her approach. She stopped her attack.

  “We are not here to drink! We are here to protect the Queen and escort her to Ganlin!” She said turning in a circle addressing the soldiers.

  “Commander, you never said we couldn’t go out into the city when we weren’t on watch.” Fowlin pointed out. Satana scowled at him, then noticed both men were bruised and battered much more than what she did to them.

  “This isn’t about going out into the city Fowlin and you know it! It’s about letting your brothers down!” She yelled. “What happened to you two? Those bruises didn’t come from me. Tell me I won’t be hearing from some civilians that the kings very own men were terrorizing the locals!” She finished with an angry shout walking closer to get a better look at both Fowlin and Polick.

  “We had…” Fowlin started to say but struggled for the right words, or rather the words that would not anger their commander further.

  “A bit of sport with some men from the north, commander. They were soldiers as well, it was mutual. There’ll be no complaints, I can assure you.” Polick said then smiled, “Then we had some luck with the ladies. It was all innocent fun.” Polick said. Tursil threw up, still lying on the floor. He heaved long and loud, making the soldiers in the room snicker at the timing. Satana shook her head at the three of them.

  “Women took you in?” She asked in disbelief.

  “It’s as Fowlin said,” Polick said to the soldiers in the room, “The women of Qinkas are very friendly.” The men began to moan in disbelief, some made sounds of approval.

  “Even you, Polick? You ugly bastard.” A soldier asked.

  “And you think she really liked you, liked any of you?” Satana asked the room.

  “She sure seemed to.” Polick said then laughed and made a thrusting gesture with his hips. Satana snarled as the soldiers in the barracks began to laugh at his comment.

  “Let me tell you something about these… compliant women of Qinkas,” Satana started to pace along the aisle between the two rows of beds. “In Qinkas, a woman is property. If she refuses a man, he is allowed to take her without repercussions, against her will, if need be. A woman here is only allowed to say yes!” She said annoyed, “Even to the ugliest of men!” She said stepping right up to Polick’s face. “So, when you think she really likes you,” she growled to Polick, “It’s because the alternative is death. Your stinking fat face can sweat all over these women.” She said pushing Policks head with her finger, “But make no mistake! It is not because they like you!” Satana looked down at Tursil on the floor, “Clean him up and someone relieve the watch. Before I have the First cleaning the privies of every home in the city!” She shouted then left the barracks. The men looked around a moment at each other, quiet.

  “Is it true Fowlin?” Polick asked. Fowlin considered his question then thought about how the women acted when those men they fought at the Desert Dragon told them they were going with them and they did nothing but comply. He considered that in the two years he was in Qinkas with King Dracon, he had been blind to the fact and thought himself quite a lady’s man. He didn’t answer Polick, unsure, and partially ashamed that it might be true. Instead, he reached down and rolled Tursil over, so he wouldn’t drown in his own vomit.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Wooden swords collided against each other in the training room of Dragons Claw. Dracon went through his moves in repetition repeatedly against his opponent and training partner. Usually, he trained with Satana, but her absence had him have to choose a lesser partner.

  “Again!” Dracon ordered, hardly winded. His opponent, Daeth, was not so lucky and heaved, desperate to breathe. Dracon’s blows, though expected and following the same routine, were still swung with heavy hands, much heavier than any opponent Daeth had traded blows with. Dracon did not wait for him to catch his breath and began his same five swings again. The unprepared Daeth lost grip of his wooden sword and it hit the ground so hard it bounced away. Dracon moved as if the sword was still in the man’s hand and ended his fifth swing on Daeth’s collarbone dropping him to the ground in a wailing heap. Dracon stepped back, watching him squirm on the straw mat a moment before grabbing him by the back of his chainmail then lifting him to his feet. Daeth stood slumped over, holding his collarbone. Dracon bent down and picked up the wooden sword and held it by its blade offering the hilt back to Daeth. He stared back at Dracon with a grimace unwilling to reach for it. “In battle, a weak grip of your sword will cost you more than a little pain. It will cost your life. The man beside you’s life.” He said urging him to take the sword again. Daeth slowly reached for it. “This isn’t a match man, it’s just exercise, I’m not coming at you with any surprises, tell me you can at least handle that?” Dracon shook his head, “Have all the men of Ganlin forgotten how to fight? Is peace so far-reaching that you fear no attacks from anywhere?” He asked rhetorically.r />
  “My lord?” Daeth asked confused. Dracon snarled, waving his hand at Daeth dismissively then turned away from him. He was surprised to see Talila had entered the training area and was watching them. He had no idea how long she had been there. She sat in an old rickety wooden chair that Dracon used as a stool to lace up his boots. She had her hands folded in her lap and watched the two men like she was studying their every move.

  “That’s enough for today.” Dracon said turning back to Daeth, “Work on your stamina man, and your grip.”

  “Yes, sire. I will.” Daeth said still gripping his arm, exhausted. Dracon followed him to the door near to where Talila was sitting. “My lady.” Daeth said and bowed to Talila before leaving the room. Talila stood and nodded to him as he left then watched Dracon as he approached.

  “He’s frightened of you.” She said. Dracon raised his eyebrows at her, surprised at the statement. “I think he might believe the rumors about you,” She smiled, “about us?”

  “About us?” He asked.

  “The five witches that have captured their king, bathing his soul in darkness, creeping into the land of Ganlin to sacrifice their children to some evil god.” Talila said with a wicked sneer. Dracon laughed at her, believing she was making up the story.

  “Did Venalina send you to get me?” Dracon asked. Talila grabbed a towel from the floor near her feet then stepped closer to Dracon and wiped his sweaty brow. He let her, staring down at her face as she wiped his.

  “No.” She said, “You are to be my husband. I am here as a wife should be, to care for you.” She said making Dracon chuckle. She smiled at his amusement with her.

  “Talila, don’t you want a man of your own, one you won’t have to share?” Dracon asked shaking his head at how preposterous the whole idea of five wives was.

  “I am not sharing you with anyone.” She said.

  “You’re not?” He asked.

  “No.” She said, shaking her head as she wiped the side of his face with the towel, then let it fall to the ground. Dracon reached for the towel and Talila walked passed him as he bent over to pick it up. “You spend a lot of time up here.” She said walking across the training room to a balcony on the other side.

  “I suppose.” Dracon said straightening up after he retrieved the towel. He threw it around his neck and turned to watch her. She stopped at the closed balcony doors and pulled them open. A gust of wind aided her efforts and the door flew open with a bang. She examined the doors then looked outside walking onto the old wooden balcony cautiously. It was very old, and she wasn’t too sure about its stability.

  “The expanse of death.” Talila said and put her hands on the old railing looking out into the desolation that was the view.

  “We call it the outer region here.” Dracon said walking toward her slowly.

  “Why do you come up here so much?” She asked still looking out in to the wastelands, “Is it to look out there?” She asked.

  “To train.” He said, she spun on him and laughed, “You think that’s funny?”

  “I think it’s a lie.” She said stepping back in from the balcony. He shook his head at her, “Is it because of your dreams? Are you worried something is coming?” Talila turned back to the balcony, “From out there?” Dracon chuckled, “I know you aren’t sleeping well.”

  “Do you watch me sleep?” Dracon asked reaching her at the balcony’s door.

  “Come now, Dracon, you know that I do.” Talila laughed.

  “Yes, I suppose that’s true.” He said and looked down at his feet, “What do you and your mistress do to me while I sleep, Talila?”

  “You mean she doesn’t tell you?” Talila gave him a skeptical look.

  “No.” He said looking past her and out into the wastelands, beyond the balcony’s edge. Talila turned away from him and walked back out onto the balcony.

  “What do you look at when you’re out here?” Talila asked, again standing at the railing. Dracon joined her at the railing that creaked when he stepped out next to her. She looked up at him with a smile that asked the question, should we both be out here? Dracon chuckled at her look.

  “It is very sturdy.” He said to her reaction at the creaking wood. “I used to come out here and keep watch.” Talila relaxed after a moment of not falling through the wooden balcony floor.

  “For Terrax?” She asked.

  “Yes. But for other things as well.” Dracon said leaning down on the railing with his elbows, “I used to stare off into the mist and imagine it was not a symbol of death, but a passage way to somewhere else. Somewhere free of war and death. I used to dream that someday I would conquer it and find peace for all Ganlin at last and adventure well into my old age. Dreams of a child.”

  “Dreams of a king! A king that saw those dreams to fruition!” Talila said and wrapped her arms around his. He thought to pull away at first and she could feel him tense, uneasy with her loving embrace on his arm. She held her cheek against his shoulder waiting for him to push her away or accept her. She too was tense, anticipating his rejection, she feared more than anything. Dracon relaxed letting her cuddle against him. She closed her eyes and smiled when she felt him relax.

  “I suppose I did.” Dracon said smirking. “The mist seems to have waned, or maybe it was more ominous when behind it, Terrax and his hordes hid. The truth of it was actually a portal. I thought, we thought,” He corrected, “Terrax was a demon from within the outer region. But we were wrong. It was an illusion, probably by design.” Talila straightened up but remained arm and arm with him at the balcony’s edge.

  “Their used to be a mist?” Talila asked.

  “Used to be?” He asked looking down at her curiously, then looked out into the outer region. She was right there was no mist, no sandstorms, no creatures of any kind and Dracon could see a great distance into it like he was looking out over any stretch of land. “Used to be a mist.” He repeated to himself. “What does it mean?”

  “What is it?” Talila could see he was confused.

  “There was a mist so foul it killed men, with creatures inhabiting it that fed on us.” Dracon narrowed his eyes looking deep into the wasteland trying to see something, anything. He could see caverns and cliffs of clay, not a wasteland at all, just a land. There were no trees, but it was still not the outer region he had known all his life. It had changed. “Something is different.”

  “You’re tired Dracon, you haven’t truly slept in days.” Talila said, “And I know.” she smiled. He smirked at that.

  “Yes, you’re right, maybe you can help me convince your mistress to leave me be, while I sleep?” He asked. Talila laughed.

  “And what would I get in return?” She asked.

  “My undying thanks?” He bargained while Talila shook her head no, knowing whatever he said was not going to be near good enough. “What do you want?” She put her hands on the sides of his head and said.

  “I want you to come to my room tonight and fetch me in front of my sisters.” Talila’s eyes were devilishly lit. “I want you to say, come wife, it’s time for bed.” Dracon laughed.

  “Is that all,” He said shaking his head no, “Are you mad at them?”

  “No,” She said, “It will keep everyone from joining you for one night and give you the peace you wish. Venalina will be happy you accepted me in your bed and she too will leave us be.” Dracon looked at her skeptically. “Tell me,” she asked, “Your dreams, what are they?” His face changed. Dracon turned away from her and walked back into the training room. She followed him. He paced for a few minutes while she watched patiently, in silence.

  “I find myself at war.” He said finally, “A war with creatures, in what appears to be the outer region, the expanse of death.” Dracon walked back to the balcony and looked out once again into the wastelands. “There is no mist in my dreams, but I’m sure it is the expanse.”

  “Go on.” Talila said joining him on the balcony.

  “I begin, like I said, killing monsters, but then I find
myself joined by Satana and the priests and we are fighting men, men of Ganlin. Ultimately, my brothers and my sister are there standing as one. Against me?” He looked at Talila questioning his own sanity.

  “You do need to rest.” Talila said comforting him. She looked at his eyes from one to the other then asked, “You haven’t eaten today have you?” He looked down.

  “No. I haven’t had the stomach for it.” Dracon said looking away. Talila put her hand to his cheek and turned his head to look at her.

  “Well, let’s go see if we can’t change that?” She offered.

  “Ok.” Dracon smiled at her and nodded. Talila took Dracon by the hand from his lookout tower turned training room all the way down to the small servant’s kitchen. He sat down at the table in the kitchen while Talila went to work preparing a meal for him. He felt more comfortable there than he had in his royal dining hall. “You’ve hardly spoken to me the whole time I’ve known you, Talila.” He said as he watched her work.

  “Well,” She said turning from her work a moment to face him, “I think you’ve been a very busy man, and time has not gone our way.”

  “You are not like your sisters. I don’t think I’ve heard you call me anything but Dracon. Not your grace, or my lord, or anything that even remotely sounded like respect for a king?” Dracon questioned leaning on the table with his forearms. Talila laughed.

  “That’s because we haven’t spoken much.” She said.

  “Even now you don’t, and this is the first time we’ve been together outside of you just being a servant to me.” Talila glanced over her shoulder at him while she continued her work.

  “And what am I doing now?” She asked.

  “You know what I mean.” Dracon chuckled.

  “I have dreams to you know.” Talila said dropping a handful of items in a hot pan. She turned to face him and grabbed a small round loaf of bread from the counter then joined him, sitting across from him at the small table.