Draggah

by Toby Neighbors

  “Well,” Rafe said, clapping a hand on his friend’s shoulder, “the thing is downright delicious. Best food I think I’ve ever eaten.”

  “You’re joking.”

  “No I’m not. It’s exceptional meat. Much better than Tamaka, and I thought that was good eating.”

  When the tribespeople saw Tiberius, they cheered. By the time Tiberius and Rafe were halfway back to their shelter, there was a large crowd gathered around them. The Hoskali were dancing and laughing, shouting and singing. Drinks were pushed into Tiberius’ hands and the crowd cheered him on as he drank. The Kymis was a sweet drink, but there were also stronger spirits. The ox milk could be distilled into strong liquor that was mixed with other drinks such as fruit juice or Kymis. By the time he reached his shelter, Tiberius felt warm, happy, and relaxed.

  Lexi and Olyva were asleep outside the shelter. There was a bright fire burning nearby, and even though Tiberius knew they were using the last of their meager supply of Tamaka dung in their celebratory fires, he didn’t care. They needed to pull up stakes and leave the watering hole the next day anyway. They would have to find more fuel for their fires as they traveled.

  He was led to a mat covered with pillows. He sat down and his group of wives saw to his every need. He might have been nearly drunk, but he saw the look of yearning on some of the younger wives faces. They wouldn’t try to seduce him, but he knew it would only take a word on his part and he could be with any of the women he wanted.

  They rubbed his shoulders and fed him. Tiberius knew that Lexi would never stand for that kind of treatment if she had been awake, but she wasn’t and he was too tired to fight off his wives’ constant efforts to meet his needs. The massage felt good. It felt good to have his boots off and to have a delicious drink in his hand. The meat harvested from the huge creature was surprisingly delicious, and Tiberius was famished. He ate, drank, watched the tribal celebrations, and felt at home for the first time since he was a child.

  “Can you believe this is what life is like below the mists?” he asked Rafe, who was sitting beside him, enjoying the same treatment from the women of Tiberius’ harem.

  “No,” Rafe said. “I really can’t. It’s unbelievable.”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “I mean, who would have ever imagined that we would be sitting here like kings.”

  “Not me; I thought we’d be constantly fighting to survive.”

  “Me too,” Rafe agreed. “I didn’t even think we would be able to find food or shelter. The blighted lands are supposed to be this terrible place that no one can survive in.”

  “Well, to be fair, it is a dangerous place,” Tiberius said.

  “But wonderful too. The air isn’t poisoned, there’s water and food if you know how to find it.”

  “And people too. I didn’t think there would be people.”

  “Beautiful people,” Rafe said, smiling at the young woman rubbing his feet.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t be drinking,” Tiberius said. “Aren’t you supposed to be on watch later tonight?”

  “Sure, sure,” Rafe said, taking another drink from his mug of spiced Kymis.

  “I’m sleepy.”

  “So go to sleep. You’ve earned it.”

  “I want to be woken at dawn,” he told Filsa. “Don’t let me oversleep.”

  “Of course, Tiswanee,” the older woman said. “Let us make you comfortable inside.”

  “No,” Tiberius said a little too loudly. “That’s not necessary. I’ll sleep out here, with Lexi.”

  “As you wish,” she said, bowing her head.

  “You know I don’t mean any disrespect,” Tiberius said in an apologetic tone.

  “Of course not, Tiswanee. Your trogooh wants only to ensure your every desire.”

  “What’s a trogooh?” Rafe asked.

  “It’s my harem.”

  “Oh, I have got to get me a few wives.”

  “Don’t make fun.”

  “I’m not, truly, this is how every man should live,” he said, waving his cup and spilling some of the Kymis he was drinking.

  A few of the younger women giggled.

  “They didn’t ask to be my wives,” Tiberius explained. “They inherited me and I’m going to make sure they have everything they need.”

  “I’ll bet you are,” Rafe said, chortling.

  “I don’t think Olyva would approve of your attitude.”

  “Don’t do that. Don’t talk about her that way.”

  “What way? I was talking about you. You’re making an ass of yourself.”

  “I can do that,” Rafe said stubbornly. “I’m allowed to have a little fun.”

  “Well, have your fun more quietly,” Tiberius insisted. I’m going to bed.”

  He lay down on the cushions beside Lexi. He was so tired he had only one thought before falling asleep. He felt like the luckiest man in the world.

  When Filsa woke him up the next morning, he didn’t feel so lucky. In fact, his head ached and his stomach quivered, threatening to reject whatever was left in it. He got to his feet slowly. One of the women brought him a bowl of water to wash his face in. Another brought a soft cloth for him to dry with.

  “Shall we prepare food?” Filsa asked.

  “Nothing special,” he said. “The more bland you can make it this morning, the better.”

  “Of course, Tiswanee.”

  Tiberius immediately went to the edge of the camp nearest the carcass. With each step, the smell of decaying flesh grew. He threw up before he reached the Rogu who was standing watch, and he was thankful that he hadn’t done it in front of the tribal warriors. He could see movement in the distance. The huge carcass of the beast was clearly visible on the flat plains, even if it was too far to really make out details. It seemed to move as the carrion birds rose and fell around the fallen creature.

  “We have to get out of here,” he said to the warrior.

  “Yes, Tiswanee. The meat is spoiling.”

  “Did you have any trouble in the night?”

  “No,” the warrior said. “The beasts are feasting.”

  “Good, spread the word that we’re leaving and have Te’sumee meet me at my shelter.”

  When he got back, the women of his trogooh had prepared a simple porridge. Lexi was awake and Olyva stood with her face turned up toward the sun. Rafe was still asleep on the ground where he’d finally curled up beside Olyva.

  “Good morning,” Lexi said.

  “I’m glad you’re up,” he said.

  “I missed you last night.”

  “You were asleep when I got back.”

  “I was tired,” she said. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I was beat too. We all were. But we need to move on quickly. You can smell the rotting flesh of the creature on the far side of the camp.”

  Lexi wrinkled her nose.

  “Filsa,” Tiberius asked. “What can we do to help you be ready to move out?”

  “Nothing, Tiswanee,” the older woman said. “We will see to the shelter and your belongings.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course, that is what we do.”

  She smiled at him and he bowed his head a little, the way he’d seen the Hoskali do to him as a show of respect.

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Do not bow to me. I am not worthy.”

  “You take care of everyone here, including the four of us,” Tiberius said, waving his hand at Lexi and Rafe. “We owe you so much.”

  “But the Swanee does not bow to anyone.”

  “I only wanted to show my appreciation.”

  “You are different, that is good. The Hoskali embrace new people, it is how we grow, but some things are better left unchanged.”

  “Do you really believe that?” Tiberius asked her.

  “Yes, Tiswanee. You must be given the greatest respect as you lead our tribe.”

  Tiberius nodded. He was happy that he had been embraced by the Hoskali tribe. He’d already learn
ed so much from them. They were an inventive people, making whatever they needed from the animals they hunted and what they could gather on the open plains.

  “We really should get moving as soon as possible,” he said. He turned to Lexi, “Let’s go saddle the horses.”

  “Should I wake Rafe?” Olyva asked.

  It was the first casual thing she’d said to him in days. He was concerned for her, but she didn’t seem to be in any danger; in fact, she had saved the entire tribe by alerting them of the Draccon’s approach.

  “Yes,” Tiberius said. “And don’t go easy on him.”

  She looked puzzled, but didn’t ask any further questions. Tiberius took Lexi by the hand and they made their way toward the area of the camp where the livestock was kept. The tribe had a few horses, and nearly three dozen oxen. Quntah was in charge of the animals and Tiberius looked for the small Hoskali man as they approached.

  “Oh, god,” Lexi said, raising her hand to her mouth. “What is that smell?”

  The animals had a distinct odor, but Lexi was referring to the horrid stench of the decaying creature they had slain the night before.

  “I told you the smell was reaching the camp,” Tiberius said.

  The Hoskali who hadn’t yet smelled the rotten stench were moving slowly. Most had too much to drink the night before, just like Tiberius, and were trying to keep from making themselves feel any worse. But those tribe members whose shelters had been invaded by the horrid stench of the dead creature were moving much more quickly. Many of the shelters on that side of the camp had already been pulled down. And the animals were uneasy, their more finely tuned sense of smell made their suffering in the terrible odor even worse than the hung over Hoskali.

  “I’m going to gag,” Lexi said.

  “Get your horse first,” Tiberius told her. “Take Star and Olyva’s horse away from this stench.”

  Lexi nodded. Tiberius finally found Quntah struggling with the oxen. He needed to feed them and then get them hitched to the small carts that were used to haul the heavier items of the camp.

  “Quntah, what can I do to help?” Tiberius asked.

  “Tiswanee, please,” said the smaller man. “Remove yourself from this odor. I will see to the animals.”

  “It looks like you’re having a hard time,” Tiberius observed.

  “They are restless, unwilling to eat. I’m afraid the stench is upsetting them.”

  “It’s upsetting everyone. We need to leave as soon as possible. Let me help you.”

  “I have seen to your wagon and checked the hooves of your horses. Perhaps the Rogu could escort you from this vile stench.”

  “We’ll all go together.”

  “It may take some time to prepare the oxen. They won’t eat.”

  “So let’s move them out. We can take our time once we leave the smell behind. They’ll eat then.”

  “But Tiswanee. The water pots are almost all gone. We will be hard pressed to find more water for the tribe.”

  “Leave that to me,” Tiberius said. “I can find water.”

  Quntah looked at him skeptically, but Tiberius insisted.

  “Just get those oxen moving. I want us to break camp within the hour.”

  The next hour was a rush of activity. Tiberius took his horse and Rafe’s back to the shelter. Rafe was trying to eat, but it was obvious that he felt terrible. Tiberius was tempted to tease his old friend, but he didn’t want to make the situation any worse.

  “Don’t say it,” Rafe grumbled. “I said I would take watch and I didn’t do it. I’m sorry.”

  “No need to apologize,” Tiberius said. “Can you ride?”

  “Of course I can ride,” Rafe said. “Where are we in such a hurry to get to? I doubt the tribe feels like rushing off this morning. Not after the celebration that took place last night.”

  “You get a whiff of that creature we killed and you’ll be begging to leave.”

  “You can smell it?” Rafe asked. “Even this far away?”

  “Yes, that entire side of the camp is suffering from the smell. Finish what you’re doing and mount up.”

  Tiberius liked being in the saddle. He felt ready for just about anything on the back of his horse, even if Shadow wasn’t really bred for carrying a rider. He liked being able to see over things. From the back of the horse, he could see over the low dome-shaped tents that the tribe used as shelter on the great plains. He could see the camp disassembling and preparing to move out.

  Olyva preferred walking to riding, and for a while Rafe stayed with her. The elderly and infirm rode in the Swanee’s big wagon. The Rogu led the way, with Tiberius and Lexi following behind them on horseback. The rest of the camp spread out in a long train of people and animals. They moved at first just to get away from the wretched smell, but once they were all clear of the odor, Tiberius called a halt.

  “Lexi, would you assess what the tribe needs?” he asked. “I know water is our first priority, but I’m afraid we need fuel for fires too.”

  “Okay,” Lexi said, turning her horse and trotting back down the line of people and animals.

  Tiberius looked back over the tribe. Almost everyone carried woven baskets or sacks on their back. The oxen had large mounds on their backs which Tiberius guessed were the neatly folded tents. The carts the oxen pulled were filled with supplies such as food, Tamaka dung, and the clay pots of water. Using the big pots to hold water near the carcass of the big creature may have kept the tribe safe from the scavenging animals, but now it left them short of water.

  Tiberius stood up in the stirrups of his horse and began reciting the spell to find water.

  “Repperi Amnis,” he said quietly.

  Immediately, the pull back the way they had come made him turn. He’d known that this might be a problem. They were still close to the watering hole they’d been camped at, but that site was no longer a viable option for the tribe.

  “Repperi Amnis,” he said again. “Repperi Amnis.”

  He forced his mind to pull away from the spring they’d recently left and he waited as his magic spread out. It reminded him somewhat of a game he’d played as a child. One person would be blindfolded, and the other children would spread out. The blindfolded player would call out, “Where?” and the others had to reply, “Here!” The person with the blindfold then stumbled around trying to touch one of the other players. Every time the person with the blindfold called out, the others had to reply. Now, as Tiberius chanted his spell to find water, he felt the replies of distant water. He waited, chanting quietly over and over, until he found the magical reply that was the strongest.

  “Te’sumee!” he called out, sitting back down in his saddle.

  “Yes, Tiswanee,” answered the energetic hunter.

  “We’re going that way,” Tiberius said, pointing.

  “Will we find water?” Te’sumee asked.

  “I already have,” Tiberius said with a smile.

  Chapter 17

  Leonosis

  It had taken them nearly two days, but the spies in the city had finally found the man who sold Tiberius the book. They brought the elderly merchant, or black marketer, depending on how you looked at things, to the palace dungeon. Leonosis had intended to let the man soften up for at least a few hours in the cold darkness, but according to the spies, the old man was too frail.

  Leonosis hurried down the stairs to the dungeon. Torches had been lit in the sconces and a fire was kindled in the guard station just outside the long corridor of cells. Leonosis saw at once the man was no risk. His thin body was perched on a small stool near the hearth. It was midsummer, but deep in the mountain under the Earl’s palace, the temperatures remained cold throughout the year. The man looked ill, his eyes glassy and bloodshot. The spies had wrapped a blanket around the man’s frail shoulders and the torturer leaned against the far wall.

  “He’s here, my lord,” said one of the spies. “His name is Ennis.”

  “My brother bought a book from you,” Leonosis sa
id. “He paid in silver. I want to know what it was.”

  The man looked up and frowned.

  “I know you understand me old man,” Leonosis said. “And don’t think I won’t torture you for the information I need.”

  “I didn’t even know I had it,” said the man in a gruff whisper.

  “Had what?”

  “He was rummaging around in a box of old books,” Ennis said. “I tried to dissuade him.”

  “Stop stalling,” Leonosis said. “Tell me what he bought.”

  “The Essence of Magic,” Ennis said.

  For a moment the words hung in the damp air. No one moved, not even Leonosis. He had been expecting this type of answer, but to hear it spoken out loud shocked everyone. Magic was the most forbidden activity in Avondale, or any of the Nine Cities of Valana. It was taboo to even mention it in public discourse. To hear that Tiberius actually purchased a book of magic was difficult to understand.

  Leonosis had very little love for anyone. He cared about his mother to a degree, and there was perhaps a hint of fondness for his brothers and sisters. He had certainly never entertained the idea of treating them any better than strangers. In fact, he had taken great joy in tormenting them for the most part, especially Tiberius. His youngest brother was an easy target with his romanticized notions of honor. Still, it felt like a betrayal to know that his brother had been dabbling in magic.

  It also confirmed the suspicions Leonosis had about Princess Ariel. She had been strange right from the start. Leonosis knew something was amiss when the Princes had chosen Tiberius rather than himself. No woman in her right mind would want to associate with a third-born heir when the heir apparent was readily available. Yet she had seen something in Tiberius the rest of them had missed. Then there was the incident in Leonosis’ audience chamber. He had known she had done something to him, and he had suspected sorcery, but it had been too fantastic to believe. Now he had proof that both Ariel and Tiberius were breaking the most sacred laws of Valana.

  “You are certain?” Leonosis questioned the old man.

  “It wasn’t a complete copy,” he wheezed. “I had fragments, probably foraged by my father from the purge. He found a few pieces and insisted I sell them to him. He paid me in silver for what I thought was worthless. I should have refused, but it was more money that I had ever seen at one time. I’m an old man, my lord. I am sorry.”