by T B Phillips
Flaya rose before Felicima, gathered up her clothing, and slipped out into the dark. She left Taros sleeping soundly, exhausted and spent by their lovemaking. She would visit him the next evening and every night thereafter until she fully held his trust. She enjoyed his touch immensely and looked forward to more.
The walk back to Weston was easy. The Andalonians built roads everywhere they wished to go, making traveling in the dark faster and without obstacles. She made good time and was soon standing before the gates. She stood beneath the looming structure pounded, waiting for them to open.
A soldier answered her knock. “Go away. The city is closed until sunrise.”
“I live within the walls and am returning home. Please let me in.” Now that she had stopped moving, she felt the cold air on her skin and wished she had worn a fur.
“What district?”
“The Pescari.” She shivered against the chill and hoped to Felicima they would let her in.
One of the guards looked out from little door that exposed only his eyes and she could hear him whisper to his counterpart. “She’s a Pescari woman and she’s alone.”
“Probably one of the whores returning from the mining camps. Go ahead and let her in.”
The sounds of bolts sliding were music to her ears as the gate slowly crept open. Once inside one of the men blocked her path. “Thank you.” She put her head down and tried to move around him.
“Where are you going, dearie?” He leaned in lecherously, tasting her skin with his eyes.
The other man had closed the gate behind her. “Let her go, Dabbon. She’s obviously had a late night.”
“What’s another customer, then? It’s been a long night for me, as well. She’s pretty enough that I’d pay double. Name your price, dearie.”
It took her a while to figure out what the men were saying in their language, but she soon understood. “I am not a whore. I do not charge.”
“So, you give it for free then? I like that price even better.” He grabbed her and pushed her into the guard shack, catching her before she could set her feet. Her face hit hard against the wall and within seconds he was pressed against her and inside. She struggled to move, trapped like a rabbit in a snare. Her hand reached down to the satchel on her belt. The knife she had used to cut the meat lay within if she could just get her arm beneath his breastplate.
Luckily, he finished quickly. He threw a copper coin on the ground and rebuttoned his trousers. The other guard appeared uncomfortable but said nothing. “That’s how you treat a whore,” Dabbon said. “Take ‘em quick and don’t worry if they …” Flaya’s knife cut both his sentence and life short as blood gushed from his neck. The eyes of the second guard grew large and she shoved the blade deep into the left, pressing it as far as the handle would allow. She triumphantly felt the blade sink into his skull.
“You there! Stop!” A shout of alarm came from above as another watchman witnessed the murders.
Flaya ran as fast and far as she could, leaving behind the gate and two dead soldiers. Boots on stone pounded in the distance and whistles broke the silence of the night. She fully became the rabbit then, fleeing the pursuing dogs. She darted into an alley and crouched, panting as torches bobbed by. Her worst fear became reality when two burning lights came her way. She searched in panic for a way out.
They came closer, bring the sounds of angry voices. “She killed them both. Sliced Dabbon’s throat from behind like a coward and then rammed her knife deep into Sett’s eye! When I find her, I’m going to gut her open and drag her back to the barracks by her hair.”
She silently prayed to her goddess for deliverance. They were nearing her hiding spot when she opened her eyes and spied a newcomer. The shadowy figure approached the men from behind with a large Pescari blade in his hand. He was cloaked and the night was dark so she could not see his face, but she knew that he was the agent of Felicima.
His drove his sword through the first man and parried a blow from the second. The soldier whirled so quickly that she thought her savior would surely fall to his blade. Only the blessings of the sleeping goddess saved the mysterious stranger. At the last second, he stepped to the side and blocked the blow.
She watched as he reached out with his free hand and grabbed the man by the throat. They stood like that eye to eye, with the soldier staring up at the newcomer. But Flaya could tell that he was not choking the man. He was doing something far worse. The man began to sweat as his body heated from within. Smoke billowed out of his ears and his mouth and nose until flames erupted from his skull. The hooded stranger released his grip and dropped the guardsmen in the dirt, smoldering and steaming within his armor.
Realization leapt in her heart. “Taros?”
The man shook his head in response. No, not Taros.
Teot threw back his hood. With his finger to his mouth he urged quiet, motioning for her to follow. She ran to him, taking his hand, He led her from the alley and back to the Pescari district. He stayed with her until they reached Daska’s home. Finally feeling safe she asked of him, “You are the agent of Felicima?” He nodded. “I prayed and you answered. Thank you, Teot.”
He leaned close and whispered back, “Tell no one what you have seen.” And then he was off into the night.
Flaya slipped quietly into her grandfather’s lodge. She was careful not to disturb him, but found the aged man sitting on the floor awaiting her arrival. “You’re home late. I assume that it went as we had hoped.”
“Yes, Grandfather. May we speak later? I am exhausted and want to rest.”
“No. We will talk, now. Were you successful? Did the boy lay with you?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He reached out a cup of white liquid. “Drink this so that the child will take in your womb.”
“No, Grandfather. Not this time, I…”
“Drink it!” The man shouted so loudly that she cowered. “If we are to gain control of the shappan then you must ensure that you bear his child.”
“But tonight I…”
He firmly placed the cup in her hand and brought it up to her mouth, forcing it between her lips. “I said to drink.”
Most of the contents found its way down her throat, but some drooled out from the corners of her mouth as he poured, ignoring her wide and terrified eyes. Felicima save me. Save us all if it is the wrong one, she prayed.
Chapter Fourteen
“Well, I want to meet the girl!” Sarai Horslei interrupted, tired of listening to the men dominate the conversation.
Robert nodded. “You will, I promise.” His advisors had gathered in his war room and discussed the arrival of the stolen galleon. To Major General Lourdes he asked, “You’re telling me that they just sailed the ship into the harbor with a white flag? Then a little girl disembarked with a message for me?”
“Yes, Your Highness. She is named Marita.” The name sent shock down the boy’s spine. He remembered the smiling freckles from his dream.
“She sailed here from Pirate’s Cove?”
“Yes.”
“And she has freckles?”
“Again, yes, Your Highness.”
Sarai watched her love with concern in her eyes. “What is it, Robert?”
“It seems that part of my vision was real and Braen Braston has sent an envoy to parlay.” He laughed dismissively. “He probably wants to give terms for my surrender. Does he realize that he’s meeting with the wrong brother?”
Maximus Reeves interjected, “Robert, at least meet with his diplomat. Hear what he has to say. We’ve been cut off from the rest of the world and it would be nice to get some news for once.”
“You want me to meet with a dead man?” Robert chuckled and shook his head. To General Lourdes he ordered, “Read that part, again, for Sarai.”
“It is my esteemed honor to introduce my friend and ambassador, Amash Horslei.
Originally of the city of Weston and…”
Sarai furrowed her scarred brow in disgust. “Is that a joke for me?”
“I doubt it.” Max shook his head. “There’s no way he would know you’re here.”
“Unless he heard the rumor out of Weston that I was kidnapped by Robert.”
“Details like that move slow, Sarai. I think we should meet with the girl first. Then, if you’re both satisfied, we can drag this ‘ambassador’ out in chains and let you decide.” Max held up one finger and addressed his king. “But I urge you to remain open minded, sire. We need more allies and access to a navy would help end the blockade.”
“At least they were kind enough to donate a galleon to our meager armada.” Robert tried to act casual, but inside his anxiety grew. The girl from his vision terrified him. How can I be afraid of a little girl?
A few minutes later Max opened the door and led the auburn-haired girl into the war room. She was tiny, freckle faced and about thirteen summers. She smiled with an innocence that the rest of the people in the room had lost. When her eyes settled on Robert, they rounded with disbelief. After a moment her strange smile widened.
“It’s you! The boy who flies in dreams!”
Robert blushed, he never thought of his nighttime adventures in such a fashion. “You know me?”
“Of course, I do! Sebastian and I talked to you! I didn’t know you were the prince!”
The look of shock on her face was genuine and confused Robert. “You really didn’t know that you’d be meeting with me?”
“No! This is wonderful!” She beamed brightly and walked closer. The guards reacted but Robert waved them off and let her through. She approached and touched his face. “It is you! Samani will be so happy! He told us to find you and I did! Twice!”
“Marita,” Sarai asked softly, “you’ve seen King Robert before? You’ve met him?”
“Yes! Sebastian and I dream-walked for months and found him, just like Samani told us!”
“Who is Samani, Marita?” Robert could sense that something was off with the child, but she was certainly the girl he had met in his dream.
“You know him. You met in Diaph.” She was a pitiful sight, standing before Robert and the others and rambling. She acted so young and so obviously touched in the head.
“What did I see of him, Marita?”
“He said that he was wrapped up in air and you visited him. You asked him to save a woman before someone burned her.” Her eyes fell on Sarai as if seeing her for the first time and grew wide-eyed. “You’re her, aren’t you?” Her smile fell and a mournful look took its place. “You’re much more beautiful now.”
Sarai shot a look of surprise at Robert, but he looked away. “Marita, if you weren’t here to see King Esterling, then why did you come?”
“Alec is looking for his wife and Amash is helping him. Since they were coming here, Braen asked them to deliver a message.”
“Amash? What is he like, Marita?”
“Yes. He’s big and really smart. I like him, but he doesn’t sail very well. He threw up the entire voyage. He made me laugh.”
Sarai turned to Robert, “I need to see him to know for sure, but it could be him.”
Maximus Reeves nodded and whispered to a guard. The soldier departed and returned a few minutes later with a tall man with broad shoulders and hair as blonde as Sarai’s. Chains bound his feet and hands, so he shuffled into the room. Despite the shackles, he bore his head with dignity and held it high with confidence. When his blue eyes settled on the exiled prince, he addressed him with a Westonese accent. “Greetings, Your Highness. I bring tidings and a message of solidarity from The Cove.”
Next to Robert, Sarai gasped. Her nails sunk into his arm and he watched his love expectantly. Tears formed in her blue eyes and she nodded her head violently up and down. He looked back at the man who bore a striking resemblance to her father, Abraham Horslei.
Amash could barely move in the shackles as the guard led him into the room. Two generals and several soldiers stood between him and the prince, each eyeing him with distrust. He could tell that they were ready to pounce if he tried something aggressive toward their ruler. They are loyal to the boy; that’s good. It’s a sign that he has some leadership in him. He had rehearsed his greeting and spoke it directly, hoping to get straight to business. Time was of the essence.
After he had spoken, the girl beside the prince reacted in a way that caught his attention. Did I say something wrong? He narrowed his eyes and looked closer. She would have been a beautiful young woman had she not endured some sort of accident. Most of her face was hideously scarred and a good portion of her hair had been permanently burned off. Her eyes glowed like fierce sapphires through her scars.
All at once he knew her. Although it had been several years and she had grown into a woman, he recognized his sister. “Sarai? Is it you?” The voice of the dignitary gone; the words uttered on a soft whisper. What happened to her? Despite the scars, she was the most beautiful sight he had seen in years. She leaped from her chair and ran toward him, wrapping her arms around his waist and crying into his chest. He wished he could put his around her, but they were locked in irons. “I don’t understand. How are you here?”
She pulled back and wiped her face on her sleeve, smiling up at her brother. “It’s a long story and I think we have much more to talk about first.”
The self-proclaimed king cleared his throat and addressed one of the soldiers. “I think we can dispense with the chains. I’m not in any danger and Lord Horslei should be treated with respect.” To Amash he added, “I apologize for your treatment, it’s just that we believed you dead.”
“I understand completely, Your Highness. I would have taken the same precautions.” After his hands were free, he embraced his sister and felt his own eyes misting.
After they were all seated, one of the generals asked, “How well do you know this Braen Braston?”
“Very well. I’ve been his friend for nearly two years in The Cove.”
“Why did he kill my mother?” A glint of anger in the prince’s eyes betrayed his intent.
“He didn’t. That was done by Matteas Brohn at your brother’s request.” He recounted the story of the failed exchange exactly as Braen had told it to him.
The other of the two generals nodded his head. “That sounds like Brohn. He must have seen an opportunity to place Marcus in power. He always had ambition in him. And that part about Artema Horn’s role makes sense. That crafty son of a bitch would do anything for a pile of coins. I never did trust him.”
The prince turned to his general. “Max, this changes things.”
“Indeed. We have options that we didn’t before.” The general addressed the other, “What do you think, Lourdes?”
“How big is Braston’s fleet?”
“That’s a slight problem. Most of the ships in The Cove were destroyed when he took it over. But he’s rebuilding quickly and has some technological advantages that you’ll need to know about. He has unbelievable fire power.”
“Then my recommendation is that we work together on this. But getting a message back through the blockade will be difficult if not impossible. He’s not much help if we can’t tell him what we need.”
Marita giggled and everyone turned to the little girl. Amash nodded and she smiled back with her odd thumbs up.
“Did I miss a joke, or something?” The general frowned at the exchange.
“No General. It’s just that she has a unique way to message The Cove.”
Robert’s eyes grew wide with realization. “You have a network? How many more Dreamers do you have?”
It was Amash’s turn to be confused. “How did you know about the Dreamers?”
Marita answered, “Because he’s the boy from Weston.”
“You? You have emotancy?” Horslei felt his head swim
. “You have control over air?”
Robert shyly looked toward the others as if afraid to answer. Finally, Sarai spoke up, “Amash, he killed ten Falconers in the battle of Eskera.”
Horslei considered his sister’s words. “That’s twice more than we have. But I really suggest that you speak with Braen.”
Chapter Fifteen
Anxiety gripped Fatwana as the train slowed. Her pulse pounded in her ears while her chest fluttered. She adjusted her seat, propping upright to counteract the jittery sensation coursing her veins. She was desperate to flee and escape the next hour, suddenly regretting her decisions.
Subba napped soundly across from her, but she impatiently lifted the shade and allowed light to flood the compartment. The capital city of Bergin sprawled outside the window, ten times larger than Oslot and with hundreds of thousands more people crammed into its wards. The thought of stepping off the train sent a shudder through her spine, but she had committed down this path. Her brother’s message had forced her to act.
Subba stirred. “Have we arrived?”
“Yes. But it is late and the ride to the Council Building will take another hour. We’ll most likely be put up for the night in lodging and meet with them in the morning.”
The sound of the brakes announced that they would disembark soon. Subba stood and stretched before pulling their bags from stowage. “This is my first time in the Capital, lead sister. Will there be time for sight-seeing?”
“I doubt it, but I may be wrong. It all depends on how the meeting goes. If the council puts us on standby, then we may be here several days.” Fatwana opened the door and Subba carried the bags. The shuffling line of people was crammed into the narrow corridor and Fatwana felt another attack of panic. She stretched to see what was holding up their departure.