The Ancient Ones (The Legacy Trilogy Book 3)

by Michael Foster

  ‘Well, of course,’ Leopold replied quite uncomfortably. He forced his smile back into play, but he felt a sorry actor in a very amateurish theatre. ‘Then I shall leave you ladies to enjoy the fine view. Good day.’

  They continued laughing as Leopold returned down the stairs. He did his best to appear unworried by their remarks, but he was sure the men had taken notice. Most turned their eyes to the deck or tapped their comrades on the arms to look away, rather than meet his gaze. They could not understand what was said, but they knew what all the tittering and giggling was about; they could read their Emperor’s reaction.

  Leopold returned to his room and put his feet up for a rest. Those adorable women had given him a beating much worse than anything Captain Orrell could have served him—perhaps even the magician. Yes ... much more than that. Still, he was not about to form a grudge against them. Better he quietly lick his wounds and perhaps pretend it never happened. Yes, that would be the plan.

  ****

  ‘What do you want!’ Leopold roared. He had worked in the galley all morning, dicing up endless volumes of preserved pork for the crew’s lunch, and his temper had reached its limit several bucketfuls ago. The last thing he had the patience for was the magician standing in the doorway looking smug.

  ‘I heard of your run-in with the Koians.’

  The ship’s cooks had fled, warned in whispers of Lord Samuel’s approach.

  ‘What of it?’ Leopold replied, not pausing from his work. He hacked the next piece of flesh into misshapen lumps with his heavy cleaver. Flecks of meat covered his shirt, but he did not care. He would not clean himself until the whole unsavoury job was finished. ‘Have you come to gloat?’

  ‘Truthfully, yes.’

  ‘Well, I’ve forgotten it already.’

  ‘That’s good to hear,’ Samuel declared. He wandered the galley, poking his nose into drawers. ‘I hope you learned a thing or two.’

  ‘Which things are they?’ Leopold asked, pausing.

  ‘About your subjects, to be specific—the crew and most everyone aboard this ship. You are their Emperor, Leopold. They admire you, so they lie to you. Turians would never dare tell you that you might be making a mistake, that you might be making a fool of yourself. They convince themselves instead that everything you do is perfect, because of who you are. And if you do make a mistake, they wipe it from their minds, or shift the blame elsewhere. You cannot change that, Leopold—not in a hurry anyways—but you can understand it. Your Empire will operate much more smoothly if you do.’

  ‘I understand,’ Leopold told him curtly.

  ‘Really?’ Samuel replied with a raised eyebrow. ‘But I see preparing lunch hasn’t done a lot for your mood.’ He paused, and Leopold recommenced his chopping, waiting for the question he knew would follow. ‘So ... have you had enough for today?’

  There; it was said.

  Leopold stopped, cleaver in hand. He had been anticipating this moment and had prepared a careful reply. ‘No, thank you.’ His voice was as restrained and patient as he could manage, conveying a pleasant tone.

  ‘What’s that?’ Samuel asked with disbelief.

  ‘I said “no”. Lunch is not ready and I’ve much more to do before it is finished.’ Internally, the contented sound of his voice tortured him.

  ‘Remarkable, Leopold!’ the magician declared with pleasure. ‘Very well. Continue on. Cut away! And after that, given you are so keen, you can also help with dinner.’

  Leopold could not believe his ears. ‘I beg your pardon?’ All pretence fell away.

  The magician’s smile broadened. ‘I’m so happy, Leopold. Work away. I’m very pleased to see you enjoying yourself.’

  ‘Wait, wait, wait,’ Leopold uttered hurriedly, placing down his knife. ‘Every time you ask me if I’ve had enough, I say “yes”, and you make me work more. This time, I say “no” and you still set me more.’

  ‘That’s right, Leopold. Because I know you are lying. You only say “no” because you think it’s what I want to hear. It’s not, and even if it were, I’d wait for you to mean it. You haven’t learnt the lesson yet, so you must keep working.’

  ‘So what is the blasted lesson!’ Leopold bellowed, unable to contain his frustration.

  ‘I’ll let you work it out,’ the magician replied, and with that he turned and slipped out the doorway.

  The cooks came racing in from their hiding places, back to their benches and hurrying to catch up.

  ‘What are you looking at?’ Leopold roared at one of them who had dared to glance his way.

  ‘Nothing, Your Majesty!’ the man replied meekly.

  Leopold picked up his cleaver and brought it down with a vengeance, burying its blade through the meat and into the table top. How can I do it? he thought desperately. How can I kill that infernal magician?

  ***

  There was no way to approach The Heavenly City without being seen, so they brought the Farstride to a rest as near as they dared. They sheltered amongst a cluster of jungle-covered islands that spotted the ocean amidst thousands of others—the sprawling edge of the archipelago that cluttered about the coast.

  They saw several small fishing boats, but the vessels were devoured by the sea before they could race away, snatched down by some unseen hand. No one asked if Lord Samuel was responsible—they did not need to.

  Each time another small boat disappeared, crewmen looked towards the magician—perhaps seeking some sign of his involvement—but each time he was motionless, glaring seawards while his magic did its work.

  Their landing party filled three of the longboats. Captain Orrell was accompanied by six of his men. Lady Wind brought Phoenix and seven of her countryfolk with her. Leopold could not comprehend why the Koian women were included. If there was any kind of trouble, it meant more helpless women to protect.

  He sighed and shook his head at the sight of them. At least some were remaining behind. Daneel was charged with keeping his eye on them, keeping them out of sight of the crew and generally keeping them out of trouble. Commander Riggadardian had the task of keeping his eye on Daneel.

  One of the Koian women staying behind was the one called Kali, and she met Leopold’s efforts with scowls when he mistakenly tried to assist her into a boat.

  ‘I’m not coming, oaf!’

  The tone of her voice had him quickly retreating. He winced at her unrestrained disdain, but there was nothing he could do except climb into the boat and sit, while the preparations to launch were completed around him. Kali watched the crew closely, suspiciously.

  Despite her apparent concerns, the three boats were lowered safely and they commenced away immediately. The crew gave them a subdued hurrah as a send-off, while Commander Riggadardian looked down over them, worried as he watched his Lady Wind depart.

  They surreptitiously coursed towards the coast, using the islands for cover. Leopold was worried they would never find their way back through the maze of channels. Once the Farstride was out of sight, hidden behind the islands, he had no idea how to get back to her.

  ‘Why are we bringing them?’ Leopold asked the magician, casting his eye to the boatload of Koian women that led the way.

  ‘This is their nation, Leopold. Let them fight their war as they see fit. People benefit from participating in their own struggles. Watch on. You may learn something useful for your future as Emperor.’

  ‘Aren’t you worried they may be more trouble than they’re worth?’

  ‘Don’t worry, my young companion. They will cause no trouble. Who would dare harm such innocent, frail things?’

  Leopold glanced sidelong at the magician, not sure how to interpret his words. Was that a ghost of a smile on the man’s lips? Whatever it was, it was gone, too fleeting to be fully discerned. ‘And why are you not bringing your casket?’ he asked. ‘Would it not be a good idea to bring it along in case it is needed.’

  The magician did not move. He scanned the misty rim of the mainland intently, moving only his eyes, searchin
g the distance with his senses. ‘It is safer back on the ship. I would hope not to need it. If I do, I can return to it quickly in a pinch. I can’t go lugging it around the countryside with me wherever I go. What sort of reputation would I get?’ With that, he openly granted Leopold one of his most disturbing grins, a smile painted on a puppet.

  They met ground in a swampy marsh and Lady Wind directed them between the humps of dry land amongst the water. A bridge was the first sign of solid land, marking a highway that crossed a narrowing of the canals. They waited out of sight while Captain Orrell’s men camouflaged their boats using leaves and branches. Once done, the vessels were indistinguishable from the gangly, grey trees and mud around them.

  ‘The Heavenly City is not far from here,’ Phoenix announced, ‘but this is an Eudan city now; they call it Bodhi; I have no idea what such a primitive word could mean. Our people have all been murdered or made slaves. Gatherings of Koians are forbidden. We must split up and travel independently, posing as slaves on errands. We have the documents prepared.’ One of the other women already had handfuls of papers readied in her hands. ‘But you and your people are too obvious,’ she added, looking to the pale Amandians. ‘We have prepared disguises … as beggars and vagrants.’ At that, her companions pulled some sack-like clothing from their satchels, ready for the Amandians to wear. ‘We will apply dirt to your faces to complete the deception,’ she said in all seriousness.

  Leopold scoffed aloud, attracting a venomous glare from the young woman, but thankfully, this time, the magician came to his support.

  ‘We have no time for that,’ Lord Samuel said with a dismissive wave of his hand. ‘I will use my magic. We will appear to be Eudans to their eyes, without all this fussing about.’ He wiggled his finger disdainfully at the sorry-looking disguises. ‘I will not suffer scraping about on the street all day to pass by their guards.’

  Phoenix took his statement for granted. ‘Then do not spend your magic on us,’ Phoenix said. ‘We will not submit to such evils upon us. We will go as we are. The Eudans will not allow their own women into the palace, but slaves are permitted for entertainment. You can present us as gifts for Pradmet. They are barbarians. They treat their own women like dogs, and deceive them into believing they are content as such. They treat their slaves even worse.’

  ‘Bind our hands and string us together,’ Lady Wind instructed.

  ‘Yes, it is even better than our first plan,’ Phoenix admitted, content as her companions laced each other together with rope produced from a satchel.

  Why the women brought rope, Leopold could not guess, and wondered what else they carried, hidden away in the neat little bags they kept strung over their shoulders.

  ‘We are stronger as a group,’ Phoenix added. ‘Leave the straw-haired woman likewise untouched by your spells. Tie her with us. She will make an appealing gift—an oddity.’

  Jessicah could tell they were talking about her, but she looked confused as to what they were saying.

  ‘It is a good idea,’ another of the Koian women agreed. Leopold had forgotten her name, but given her height she may have been Twilight. ‘The best and rarest of slaves are often taken directly to the palace for the entertainment of the Eudan nobles. It is good.’

  Samuel did not object, and so it was decided.

  ‘Just follow their lead,’ Leopold told Jessicah. ‘Act like a slave and don’t say anything.’

  The women tied Jessicah’s hands, attaching her to the middle of their number. The final woman to be fastened, Arrow, adeptly tied her own knots and pulled her bindings tight with her teeth. Jessicah stood out starkly amongst the women, with her fair hair, pale skin and long Turian dress.

  ‘Let me speak for us,’ Lady Wind said. ‘I aided their ambassadors in our court for many years before their treachery. I know their protocols.’

  ‘There is no need, Lady,’ Samuel responded. ‘I will take care of any obstacles we may meet. Protocols will not be required. Keep your papers tucked away. Here,’ he said, handing Leopold the end of the women’s rope. ‘Hold onto this. Tow it gently, lest you want ten angry women behind you.’ He leaned closer. ‘And I’ll give you a hint because I know how prone you are to ignoring my advice ... you don’t.’ They followed the highway to the south along the coast. As promised, Samuel’s magic kept them from appearing anything out of the ordinary.

  The Eudan occupiers were a different race to the Koians. Their skin ranged from a light brown to coal black and they did not share the fine features of the Koians. They more closely resembled Amandians in everything apart from their colour.

  Eudan guards roamed the road on horseback, watching the party each time they passed, making note of the line of tied women in particular. Some of them called to their fellows or barked questions at Leopold’s party, and Leopold was surprised when he understood them. As before, he could feel it was a new language in his ear, but Samuel’s magic let him comprehend every word they said, and he felt sure that if he spoke, his Turian tongue would sprout Eudan words just as easily.

  Many of the Eudan men went shirtless, with sandals and a light skirt common. The soldiers wore similar skirts, with short, flat-ended swords slapping at their hips. To Leopold it seemed incongruous that a man could wield a sword yet wear no shirt, but he supposed it was that or put up with the heat. He would fling away half his own clothing if he could.

  They saw only the occasional Eudan woman. Unlike their men, the women wore plenty, dressed in brightly coloured wrap-around dresses. Many of them donned an abundance of facial jewellery; multiple rings in their ears and noses, fine chains hung between them.

  Eudan boys and girls ran and played in the open, staring at their group and laughing, pointing to Jessicah with excitement and following them down the road while singing. Leopold almost wished he could not understand their bloodthirsty lyrics. From the associated gestures and motions, the children fully understood what they meant.

  They saw no Koian children. Presumably they were all locked away or kept elsewhere out of sight.

  Koian slaves worked the fields, watched over by their captors. The occasional slave passed them on the road, pulled along by Eudan masters.

  Few Koians travelled freely. Those that did kept their eyes down and did not dare utter a whisper as they passed, only glancing sideways at what must resemble more slaves caught by Eudan oppressors.

  Jessicah attracted direct stares from everyone. Her white skin and foreign dress proved too strange to ignore for Eudan overlords and Koian slaves alike.

  Whenever soldiers shouted at them, demanding to know who they were and where they were going, Samuel would send them away with a wave of his hand. Leopold was amazed he was now using his magic freely, not hoarding it away and making their life difficult. Otherwise, they would be trying to talk their way out of every such encounter. It would have taken them forever to reach their goal.

  ****

  The edge of The Heavenly City was no reflection of its name, looking sullen and grey.

  A checkpoint marked the entrance. Samuel paused briefly until the guards stepped aside and the group was given free passage to enter.

  It seemed as if their luck was holding, that they would continue uninterrupted to the palace, until a gruff Eudan voice shouted above the city noise. Merchants hid behind their stalls; the street emptied as common folk fled. Leopold felt a nervous lump congeal in his throat.

  ‘Hold!’ the caller demanded, striding quickly to catch up.

  ‘It is a sorcerer!’ Phoenix hissed, peeping around enough to see, keeping her eyes hidden.

  ‘Before the invasion, we would not allow them to set foot on our lands,’ Lady Wind whispered to Samuel as the thin man approached. ‘Be careful. I cannot guess what they can do.’

  ‘Never mind,’ Samuel said and waited without concern.

  The sorcerer was shirtless and his weighty, black skirt hung down in heavy strips to the ground, just above his sandalled toes. His head was shaven bald and his forehead was tattooed wit
h an unknown script in a thick ruby ink. A silver ring pierced his nasal septum. A scarlet sash, adorned with more inky incomprehensible symbols hung over his left shoulder, down past the opposite hip.

  ‘Where are you going? Who are you?’ the man barked.

  Samuel approached him. ‘Fortunate tidings to you, oh wondrous master. We come now from the Village of Swans, and we bring gifts for Pradmet.’ He curled his hand about and bowed deeply as he spoke, as was the Eudan way, much deeper than the Koian custom.

  The response pleased the sorcerer. ‘Where did you get that white one?’ he asked, pointing sharply to Jessicah.

  ‘A freak we found in the south,’ Samuel told him. ‘She has lost the pigment in her skin, cast out from her village and family. She is wild and uneducated, living with pigs until we discovered her. We are taking her to the slave market. Perhaps someone would pay something for such a beast; although she bites and makes a beastly mess. Perhaps you would like to make a bid?’

  The sorcerer scrutinised Jessicah intensely. ‘I have no use for her. Go on.’ He departed without awaiting a response, as if having somewhere else he urgently needed to be.

  ‘Pigs!’ Jessicah snorted in disgust once the man was out of earshot.

  Leopold laughed, but Lord Samuel was not likewise amused.

  ‘I see Rei is keeping you abreast of the conversation,’ the magician noted to Jessicah. ‘I’m glad she is not keeping you entirely in the dark.’

  It stopped Leopold’s mirth. He looked to see if Captain Orrell had overheard, but Samuel had used the Old Tongue to mask his words.

  Jessicah looked set to reply, caught halfway between frustration and bewilderment. Unsure of how to respond, she said nothing.

  ‘Lord Samuel,’ Lady Wind asked, not having overheard, ‘how is it you are familiar with Eudan greetings?’

  ‘I told the man what he was expecting to hear, showed him what he expected to see,’ was the magician’s response.