‘No thanks,’ she said brusquely, but Zastra lingered, exchanging a few words with the man and bought the fish. When she caught up with Kylen, the Sendoran frowned.
‘We’ve not enough money to waste on fish we can catch ourselves.’
‘This place exists only because of barter. People will be suspicious if we don’t appear interested. That poor man used to be a musician. Now he supports his family by hunting and selling what he can. Competition is fierce, it seems.’
They were accosted at every step and offered everything from tree fungus to carved goods. A stall selling a foul-smelling drink called hakash seemed popular. Zastra sampled some and gagged as it burned her mouth. Her coughing and spluttering did not impress the stallholder and she quickly ordered some spiced wine to wash away the taste.
‘Why would anyone want to drink something so horrid?’
‘It takes away the pain,’ Kylen remarked. Two men were slumped up against the stall, an empty hakash bottle lying by their feet. A group of twenty or so Sendorans marched past, carrying farming tools. Two Golmeiran guards provided an escort.
‘What’s going on there?’ Kylen asked the stallholder. ‘I’d expect more guards for so many prisoners.’
‘They ain’t prisoners. Them turncoats are off down the farm.’ The hakash seller jerked her head to a large patch of cleared land to the south. It was tilled and half planted with crops. ‘If you agree to be a slave, they’ll give you food enough to live on. Me, I’d rather starve.’
Kylen clenched her fist as her eyes followed the working party. Zastra quickly drained her cup, the mild spices in the wine cleaning away the bitter taste of the hakash. They decided to get closer to the fort. A deep trench circled the entire edifice, ringed by a stony track. They followed the track, noting the guards stationed every hundred paces. The surrounding land had been cleared to ensure a good view of anyone approaching. Zastra glanced up. The walls were high and constructed of large blocks of smooth yellowish stone with narrow crenels running along the top. The mortar was neat and tidy. The only windows were horizontal slits near the top of the wall, well out of reach and too small for anyone but a child to climb through, although they were no doubt useful for dropping all manner of things on any attackers beneath.
‘Too smooth to climb and they’d see us coming,’ Zastra remarked under her breath. But Kylen seemed distracted by the base of the wall. They circled the fort and found themselves back at the main gates. Zastra’s heart sank as she noted a double portcullis in front of sturdy wooden gates. A drawbridge had been lowered across the trench. A large wagon rolled up to the gates, loaded with barrels. The guards stopped it, and every barrel was opened and checked. Ixendred ran a tight ship.
‘Distract them,’ Kylen said in a low voice.
‘Distract them? How?’ Zastra protested, but Kylen was already striding confidently across the drawbridge, keeping the wagon between her and the guards. When she reached the wall, she crouched down and took out a knife. What is she doing? The guards finished their inspection and waved the wagon forward. Kylen was still fiddling at the base of the wall. Once the wagon entered the fortress, she would be exposed to view. Zastra puffed out her cheeks, set her mental wall and strode up to the gate. One of the mindweavers barred her way and she felt a probe. Zastra focused on an image of the hakash stall. Hopefully, the mindweaver would assume she was just another Sendoran refugee.
‘Who do I ask about getting on a working party?’ she asked.
The mindweaver spun her round and gestured south.
‘Ask at the farm. No Sendorans inside the fortress. Not even half-bloods.’ Out of the corner of her eye, Zastra saw Kylen retreat across the drawbridge. She mumbled some thanks to the mindweaver and followed Kylen back into the relative safety of the shanty town. The Sendoran opened her fist. Inside was a small lump of mortar.
‘I pried this from the wall with my knife.’
‘So? You can’t be thinking of digging our way through?’
Kylen refused to elaborate further. When they returned to camp, Dalbric and Pol were waiting. They looked glum.
‘You were right,’ said Polina. ‘They have Findar. There was a soldier drinking hakash from one of the stalls. His mind was unprotected. He overheard Brutila talking with Ixendred.’
‘What else did you find out?’
‘Not much. They are keeping Findar away from Brutila. It seems that Ixendred doesn’t trust her.’
‘Smart man,’ said Zastra.
‘I got a good picture of the layout. Your brother is in the central tower, above the food stores. Which are well-stocked, by the way. No chance of starving them out. We’d have to breach the outer wall and then take the inner keep. I don’t see how it can be done, even if we had an army twice the size of Ixendred’s.’
‘Depends which army,’ said Kylen thoughtfully. ‘I might just have an idea.’
Chapter Twenty
Kylen suggested they try and locate General Alboraz.
‘Last time I saw him, he was hiding in the Caves of Karabek with the remnants of our army. There were refugees too, those that survived the Kyrg invasion. They might be willing to help us.’
Hanra folded her arms.
‘I refuse to walk another step on this fool’s errand. My poor feet are full of blisters as it is.’
Kylen glanced at her disdainfully.
‘It would be better if I went alone. Alboraz hates Golmeirans and if he sees Ithgol, he’s likely to kill him on sight and ask questions later.’
‘He might try,’ Ithgol remarked. He took out one of his scythals and began to polish the already gleaming metal.
‘He sounds as charming as all Sendorans,’ Hanra remarked snidely.
‘I’m coming with you,’ said Zastra. ‘Didn’t you tell me that your relationship with Alboraz was strained?’
‘He was never a fan of mine, that’s true,’ Kylen admitted. Hanra snorted.
‘We don’t need him to like us,’ said Zastra. ‘We just need him to agree to help. Kylen, any chance our fellgryffs will come back?’
‘I doubt yours would. He was very independent-minded.’
‘That’s an understatement.’
Zastra’s bruised backside had still not recovered from the bucking ride down the valley. Kylen called out to the fellgryffs, but there was no response and so, when the light began to fade, they set off on foot. Kylen insisted they travel at night in order to evade Golmeiran patrols. She knew the land well and they made good progress, hiding in a deep crevice during the day. The second night, Kylen made her calls again. A pair of fellgryffs appeared. The male had an orange tint to its rough coat. Kylen called out to him in delight.
‘Fleetfoot? Is that you? Come here, boy.’
The fellgryff pranced towards her and nuzzled her armpit affectionately.
‘Good boy. You remember me. Your mate looks tame too. You should be fine, Zastra.’
Even so, Zastra scoured the immediate area for mud holes before she attempted to mount. To her relief, the animal made only a token effort to dislodge her before settling down and skipping after her mate. Riding the fellgryffs, they moved more quickly, even as the terrain grew rockier and the slopes steeper. The dense forest gradually changed to sparse scrubland. At the end of a deep crevasse, they reached a steep bluff. Zastra was sure they could go no further, but the fellgryffs began zig zagging up the cliff, hopping confidently between overhanging rocks and navigating narrow ledges with ease. Zastra marvelled at their surefootedness. Following Kylen’s advice, she let her mount pick her own path and tried not to look down at the ever-increasing drop into the crevasse below. When they reached the top, Kylen pulled up.
‘We are here.’
Before them lay a narrow valley, the stony ground broken up by dense patches of thornbush. Zastra examined the hillside opposite.
‘I can’t see anything.’
‘My ancestors blocked all the visible entrances to the caves. The only remaining access points are concealed and onl
y big enough to let one person to enter at a time. You need to know where to look.’
She flicked her heels and her mount bounded towards the bottom of the valley. Zastra followed. Halfway down, both fellgryffs stopped short and began to snuffle the air nervously. Zastra drew her crossbow from the sling on her back. Something had spooked the animals. But what?
‘Don’t worry,’ Kylen said confidently. ‘We are among friends.’ She let out a series of low whistles. In response, a crossbow twanged and a bolt whipped just past Zastra’s ear. The fellgryffs leapt apart.
‘Friends, eh?’ Zastra remarked dryly. Although perhaps that was what passed for a friendly greeting in Sendor. Kylen frowned and spread her arms wide.
‘Don’t you know me?’
The bushes around them shivered and they found themselves surrounded by three men and three women. Two of them carried loaded crossbows and both were pointed at Zastra’s chest. Zastra slowly lowered her own weapon. The Sendorans did not follow suit.
‘Your signal is a year out of date,’ said one of the men, his finger resting on the trigger of his crossbow.
‘I’ve been busy,’ Kylen remarked. ‘I know you. Borez, isn’t it? I trust Alboraz is still alive?’
‘General Alboraz has given standing orders to kill any Golmeirans.’ Borez showed no signs of lowering his weapon. ‘Orders I’d be happy to obey.’
‘I vouch for Zastra.’
Borez flicked his eyes towards Kylen in disbelief.
‘You brought Thorlberd’s niece here?’
Zastra gave a wry smile.
‘I’m hardly Thorlberd’s favourite family member. Or haven’t you heard?’
Kylen leapt down, rubbed her fellgryff’s nose and made an expansive gesture towards the horizon. He bowed his head and bounded away. Zastra’s mount cranked its head round and looked at her hopefully.
‘Release her, Zastra. We can’t take them into the caves.’
Zastra dismounted and let her fellgryff depart. As she turned to follow Kylen, one of the women pressed a sword against Zastra’s throat.
‘Tis death for a Golmeiran to enter the Caves of Karabek.’
Kylen laid a firm hand against the hilt of the woman’s sword.
‘It is also death to disobey an order from your liege lord, but I may be willing to overlook it. What is your name?’
The woman straightened her back and lowered her sword.
‘Moreen,’ she said. ‘We were told you were dead.’
‘I can assure you, I’m very much alive. I am sure Alboraz will be as delighted as you are at my miraculous return.’
‘Moreen is right,’ said Borez. ‘We can’t let a stranger see our secret entrances. She may be your friend now, but things change. Lord Mendoraz went to Golmer Castle thinking he could make friends, and look where that got him.’
‘I won’t tell you again.’ Kylen’s voice shook with anger, but Moreen only gripped her sword tighter. Borez did not appear ready to back down. The air shivered with tension.
‘What if you blindfold me?’ Zastra suggested. Much as she hated the idea of putting herself at the mercy of these hostile Sendorans, Kylen’s approach seemed likely to get them both killed. Borez and Moreen exchanged a few soft-spoken words and accepted Zastra’s suggestion. Her crossbow and sword were taken away and a thick hood placed over her head. She was shoved forward, none too gently. They walked for maybe half a league before she was ordered to bend down and crawl forward. The air became warm and damp and she felt something rough rub against her back. She figured she was in some kind of passageway.
‘Get up,’ Moreen commanded bluntly. Zastra stood, and was prodded forward, stumbling blindly on a rough stone floor. They took so many sharp turns and twists that Zastra began to wonder if they were going in circles. Perhaps they were trying to confuse her. The thick material of the hood chafed her cheeks and it was difficult to suck in enough air. At last she was pulled to a stop and the hood was yanked off. They were in a huge cavern. A halo of natural light filtered in from above, but to little effect. The Sendorans appeared as dark outlines. Zastra’s chest began to pound as if someone was inside, banging her ribs with their fists. She struggled to breathe. What’s happening? Death to all Golmeirans, Moreen had said. Had they poisoned the air?
‘Zastra. Are you all right?’ She felt a firm hand clasp her arm to steady her. Kylen. The Sendorans would hardly poison their liege lord. Get a grip, she told herself.
‘I just need a moment.’ Zastra sank to her haunches and tried to catch her breath. There was a scraping sound, followed by a shower of sparks. A candle flared. Kylen’s concerned face was illuminated in the flickering glow.
‘You’re paler than Horval at full moons.’
‘I’ll be fine.’ But the words came out strangely. She felt sweat beading her face.
‘What can I do?’ Kylen asked in a voice low enough for only Zastra to hear. Zastra clutched her hand, taking strength from its warmth. Slowly, the pain in her chest subsided and she could breathe again.
‘Let’s find Alboraz. The sooner the better. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.’
‘Perhaps I should take you back outside.’
‘No,’ Zastra insisted. ‘We need to do this.’
Kylen guided her after the others. They passed through the large cave and entered a much smaller one. Propped against a pillow lay a man with a shaved head. His frame was large, but his skin hung in loose folds and his blue eyes were bloodshot. As they entered, he snatched up a sword. Despite his obvious weakness, he held the blade steadily.
‘Surely you remember me, Alboraz?’ Kylen said.
‘Why do you think I picked up my sword?’ the man returned. ‘You and trouble are never far apart.’
Kylen reached for the tip of his sword. Resting two fingers beneath the blade, she lifted the point until it was pressed against her neck. They stayed frozen like that for a moment before Alboraz lowered the blade.
‘I know you’d never kill me, old man. If only for my father’s sake. You look rough.’
Alboraz eased himself back onto his bed.
‘A dirty Golmeiran blade. Barely a scratch but it’s gone bad.’
Moreen brought over a stoppered bottle.
‘I bet you’ve forgotten your medicine again, General.’ Alboraz wrinkled his nose, but Moreen refused to leave until he had taken two deep swigs. He grimaced as he handed the bottle back.
‘Your potions taste worse than marching rations.’ He turned his bloodshot eyes on Zastra. ‘Who’s this?’
‘This is Zastra. Leodra’s daughter.’
‘She looks worse than I do. Perhaps she don’t like the smell of so many Sendorans?’
The walls of the cave swam in front of her. Zastra urged herself not to faint. She couldn’t afford for Alboraz to think she was weak. She grinned as if enjoying the joke.
‘I’ll cope. I spent last winter holed up with Kylen and Hylaz and somehow I survived.’ She thought it best not to mention Ithgol.
‘Hylaz? Ha! So, you’ve not yet got the poor fellow killed, Lady Kylen. Glad to hear it. And Zadorax? Did you find him?’
Kylen told Alboraz everything that had happened since she had left to rescue her brother. Alboraz rubbed his head thoughtfully.
‘So, you were Thorlberd’s prisoner. How do I know that you haven’t turned traitor? Perhaps he released you in return for showing his niece the secret ways into our caves?’
‘Zastra was blindfolded, at her own insistence. And as for the rest, if you don’t believe me, you might as well just kill us both now.’
‘Hold on!’ Zastra protested. ‘I doubt my parentage counts in my favour as much as yours.’
Alboraz gestured them to sit.
‘I am glad some of our people have found sanctuary, for things do not go well here. The Golmeirans have us penned in and they hunt the surrounding land so we have no prey. We have little food and soon we will have no light. Ixendred has set a migaradon to guard the Jula Mountains to the north. He
is smart that one. We are down to our last few barrels.’
‘I wondered why there were so few lamps lit as we came through,’ Kylen remarked. ‘What about the other caves?’
‘Most are empty. We are no more than five hundred souls now. We couldn’t feed everyone who came to us and so most of the refugees left to join the working parties. Our people will gladly fight any enemy armed with a sword or scythal, but hunger can’t be defeated so easily.’
Kylen sank her head into her hands.
‘So few. Then what chance for Sendor? Thorlberd has truly won.’
Her words hung heavily in the darkness of the cave.
‘What about Finistron?’ Zastra asked. Alboraz shot a keen glance toward her.
‘Finistron? What interest have you in that place?’
‘My brother is held prisoner there. We came to ask for your help.’
Alboraz bared his teeth. ‘Why would I risk the lives of my people to rescue the son of a Golmeiran Grand Marl?’
‘Because we have a debt to repay. Zastra helped me rescue Zax,’ Kylen said.
‘This one? I can’t believe she did any such thing. Look at her, shaking like a jula tree in a summer breeze. She has no scars.’
By the sound of breaths being sucked in, Zastra reckoned she had just been insulted.
‘What have scars to do with anything?’ she asked.
‘It is a Sendoran expression,’ Kylen explained apologetically. ‘No scars means no battle experience.’
Zastra had had enough of Sendoran taunts. She turned her back to Alboraz and pulled up the back of her shirt. There were gasps as she exposed the double scar that ran from her shoulder to the base of her spine.
‘That a big enough scar for you? Anyone else here fought a migaradon and lived to tell the tale?’
There was silence.
‘I thought not.’ Zastra lowered her shirt. Alboraz cleared his throat.
‘It would be madness to attack Finistron head on. The fortress is impregnable. Unless you can tame migaradons as well as fight them, Zastra?’
Return to Golmeira Page 10