“They should be fit to travel once the Healer is done. He’s just a Journeyman, but he seems to know what he’s doing.”
“Damn Lebawan and all of his followers to Eshokanal’s Hell,” Stavin cursed. “We’re not staying. As soon as we can we’re going to Aniston. I told the mayor that we’ll be back, but I’m not committed to it. If Lebawan’s followers are flourishing here, then I want to avoid them.”
Karvik bowed his head slightly. “As you wish, and I agree completely. I don’t feel good about how quickly this attack happened. This was arranged well in advance of our arrival.”
Stavin glared around them and said, “Agreed,” in an intense tone. “At first light we buy a wagon and go. We’ll take the wounded to Aniston this morning.”
Karvik nodded and signaled Varik to his side. “Lieutenant Kel’Horval, have our men prepare to leave. One team at a time, Var. I want the other two teams on watch.”
Varik snapped to attention and said, “Yes, Sir,” then turned and started giving the men their orders.
The innkeeper had crept closer and said, “Prince Stavin, please--”
Karvik rounded on the man with his sword half-drawn. “Stay back, you fool!”
The innkeeper took two involuntary steps back, but stopped and again pleaded, “Prince Stavin, please don’t--”
“No,” Stavin snapped as he turned toward the man. “We are leaving as soon as we can arrange a way to transport our wounded men. Our return will depend on how well your mayor and council clean out the vermin that have infested this city.”
The innkeeper backed away with a pained expression on his face. He kept backing all the way to the mayor’s side. They had a brief discussion, then the mayor turned and stomped away while the innkeeper turned back toward his smoldering inn.
It was less than a span later that Varik and his men led all of the horses around behind the inn. “We’ve cleared out everything from the inn, Sir, and are ready to move on your command.”
“Well done, Var,” Stavin said as he stepped forward. “Give me Tru.” He held out his hand and Varik handed over Tru’s reins. Stavin gentled her nerves by stroking her nose and speaking softly to her.
“It’s all right, Tru. We’re getting away from the smoke right away. There’s no fire for you to worry about.” Tru tossed her head when Stavin checked her tack, but that was all the protest she made.
Stavin mounted and all of the guardsmen who could joined him. Each of the wounded was being carried on a stretcher by four of their comrades. They walked in a single file, and the mounted men rode on either side of them with swords drawn, forming a wall of flesh and steel between their friends and the rest of the world.
Stavin led them up the main road to a different inn and sent Sergeant Zel’Fordan and his team inside. The wounded were carefully laid out on the porch.
“We all eat out here. One team at a time eats, then takes the watch. Kar, once you’ve eaten, find us a wainwright. I don’t care if you have to wake him up. Here.” Stavin tossed his personal pouch to Karvik. “You know what we need. Take your whole team with you.” He paused to look at the porch. “We’ll rearrange the teams later.”
Karvik nodded as he tucked the pouch away. “I’d feel better if you were inside rather than exposed out here, Stave.”
Stavin shook his head as he looked around. “I won’t be trapped again, Kar. Our men can protect me out here just as well as in there. Varik will see to it that nothing happens to me. Go get us a good wagon.”
* * *
Karvik took Stavin’s purse and the ten men of his team and headed up the road once they had finished eating. He’d noticed a communal stable with a number of new and old wagons beside it on their ride into the city.
It took kicking the door repeatedly to get an answer. “Gods Below take your miserable souls!” a man’s voice shouted as the bolt shot back with a loud “Clack!” The door whipped open to reveal a man in a nightshirt with a large hammer in one hand and a candle-lamp in the other. “What in the name of--”
“Be silent!” Karvik snapped.
“Who are you to--?”
“I am Major Karvik Kel’Carin of the Evandian Royal Guard. Be silent or be silenced.” All ten of his men glared at the suddenly speechless man. “Are you the wainwright?”
“I-I am, Lord,” the man stammered as he looked at the warriors in front of him.
“We are in need of a good cargo wagon and a team to pull it.”
The wainwright was blinking rapidly as he gathered his wits. “How large a wagon are you in need of, Lord?”
“Something about ten cubits long, and wide enough to hold two litters,” Karvik answered, “but light enough to only need two mules.”
The wainwright looked at the Royal Guardsmen, then back into Karvik’s eyes. “For a wagon and mules such as you describe, twenty gold crowns.”
Karvik’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t try my patience. We’ve already killed twenty-three men this night.”
“You’ve killed--?” the wainwright asked, suddenly looking truly frightened.
“The wagon,” Karvik snapped. “I’ll give you fifteen gold, and not a spark more.”
The wainwright bowed his acceptance and gestured toward the stable. It was under two spans later that he led a brace of mules pulling a ten by five-cubit wagon to Karvik’s side. “Fifteen gold, you said?”
Karvik counted the gold out into the wainwright’s waiting hand. “As agreed,” he said, then climbed aboard to drive the wagon himself.
Stavin and the rest of their men were waiting outside the inn. “Looks good. Load our men carefully.” The guardsmen obeyed immediately and the litters were slid into the wagon, along with all of the wounded men’s gear.
Karvik said, “Tie their horses to the back,” as Stavin and the rest mounted their horses.
Varik and his team took the lead. At the edge of the city they were met by the mayor. “Prince Stavin, please don’t go,” she begged.
“Lady Mayor, I haven’t decided if I will return or just continue on from Aniston. In either case, I think it would be wise for you to take a close look at the followers of Lebawan. This attack was obviously arranged well in advance of our arrival, and could have had a much worse ending. If I had been injured or killed, Reynadia would now be at war with Evandia, and probably Coravia as well.”
The mayor and the people behind her bowed deeply as Stavin passed, but Stavin thought it was probably just to hide their expressions. He’d twisted the knife in the mayor’s guts pretty hard.
Chapter 3
ONCE THEY WERE CLEAR OF THE city, Stavin drifted back to ride beside the wagon. “Lady Sahrana said it was twelve spans by carriage to Aniston.”
“Yes, but her carriage probably travels faster than this wagon, even if I wasn’t keeping it slow to avoid jolting our wounded.”
“True” Stavin agreed as he looked around. The east was just beginning to brighten.
It took closer to eighteen spans to reach the low stone wall that bordered the city of Aniston. “Gods Above, would you look at that?” Stavin said in a hushed tone.
“I’m looking, but I’m not sure I’m believing,” Karvik answered.
Before them was a large, bowl-shaped valley. A city was centered in it, and it was large enough that it could have easily held thirty thousand souls. The valley itself was about one hundred and twenty-five dragons across, nearly as large as Kel’Kavin. The floor of the valley sloped gently toward the center where a lake reflected the sky. On the shore of the lake stood a series of manor houses and temples.
The armed party had been seen and it wasn’t long before more than a hundred armed men raced out to confront them with swords bared for action.
“That’s far enough!” a middle-aged man shouted. “Whatever you thought to find here, you’ll find only steel instead.”
Stavin felt like laughing. He dismounted and handed his reins to a guardsman, then walked forward as he removed his helmet. “I am Dragon Blessed Senior Warmaste
r Prince Stavin Markan Karvan Do’Kalin Ne’Aniston Zel’Andral, Minister of Trade from Evandia. Lady Sahrana invited me to come visit my ancestral home town.”
The leader stumbled to a stop and stared at Stavin in disbelief for a moment, then stepped forward--only to stop dead in his tracks when every member of Stavin’s royal guard drew their swords. He seemed confused for a moment, then followed Stavin’s gaze to the sword he still held in his hand. His hand opened to let the sword fall to the road.
“Prince Stavin,” the leader said as he again stepped forward, “I am Lovan Davar Kel’Aniston, Captain of the Aniston Guard. Welcome home, Cousin.” He bowed deeply as the men behind him sheathed their swords and went to one knee.
Stavin smiled as he stepped forward and said, “I’m pleased to meet you, Cousin,” then extended his hand.
Lovan looked confused for an instant, then clasped forearms with Stavin. He glanced behind Stavin to the guardsmen and asked, “Can you get them to sheath their swords?”
Stavin glanced back. “Lieutenant Kel’Horval?” he asked without elaboration.
Varik took the unspoken order and snapped, “At ease, men.” All thirty of the mounted guardsmen obeyed, sheathing their swords.
“Thank you, Prince Stavin. Lady Sahrana told us that you would be visiting, Your Highness, but we didn’t expect you so soon.”
Stavin nodded and motioned toward the city. “We had planned on coming out after our business in Zel’Kassel was completed, but we ran into a little trouble early this morning.” He went on to describe the attack and subsequent events as they walked. “Our wounded men are in the wagon.”
Captain Kel’Aniston looked to the side and snapped, “Corporal Elandar, fetch Healer Morval and meet us at the estate.” One of the men bowed slightly, then took off at a dead run. “Morval is an Adept Healer-mage, Prince Stavin. He should be able to get your men back on their feet in no time.”
Stavin bowed his head and said, “Thank you, Cousin.”
The walk to the Zel’Aniston Estate took them through the entire city. At some time in the past the city had been laid out in a series of concentric circles. Five main roads led straight through from the edge of the city to the center circle like spokes on a wagon wheel, and shorter roads connected the outer circles to each other.
The identity of the visitors had spread with a speed that only the juiciest gossip could attain, and people could be seen running to line the road.
Varik chuckled, “Here we go again, Stave,” loud enough for Stavin and Captain Lovan to hear. The captain turned to glare at Varik, but Stavin only grinned.
“Lieutenant Kel’Horval is my brother-in-law.” Turning toward Varik, he said, “Best behavior, Var, or I’ll tell your sister.”
Varik bowed in the saddle and said, “Yes, Dragon Blessed Senior Warmaster Prince Stavin Markan Karvan Do’Kalin Ne’Aniston Zel’Andral.”
Stavin shook his head in mock-despair. “Your men aren’t going to appreciate being on night-guard for the rest of this trip.”
The men around Varik glared at him until he said, “My deepest and most sincere apologies, Prince Stavin.”
“Accepted,” Stavin replied as he faced forward again. “Varik is the second in command of my guardsmen. Major Karvik Kel’Carin is driving the wagon.”
The captain looked over his shoulder again. “You have your most senior man driving the supply wagon, Prince Stavin?”
“His choice. The only things in that wagon are our wounded men and their gear. We purchased it for that purpose this morning on our way out of Zel’Kassel.”
As soon as they reached the crowd the people of Aniston welcomed their famous relation. Conversation became impossible as shouts, screams, and cheers echoed off the buildings. Stavin waved to both sides of the road as the Aniston Guardsmen formed a protective line of men two-deep on each side of them.
Varik ordered his men forward, but Stavin held up his hand to stop them. He shouted, “Let them see me!” with his mouth just a hand-span from Varik’s ear. “No one would dare try anything against me here.”
Varik frowned but finally nodded and fell back with his men. The route they took through the city led all the way down to the lake and around the other side. The estate of Sahrana Zel’Aniston was easy to recognize: it was the one with more than a hundred over-dressed people in front of it.
Lady Sahrana came forward directly to Stavin. “Welcome, Prince Stavin,” she shouted as the cheers continued. “Where are your wounded men?”
“In the wagon,” Stavin shouted back.
Lady Sahrana turned and pointed at a man in healer’s robes, then at the wagon. He and six others hurried forward and climbed into the wagon. One of them spoke to Karvik and the wagon turned toward the gate as Aniston Guardsmen cleared a path.
Lady Sahrana raised both arms above her head with her hands splayed and the crowd quieted to some extent. “People of Aniston,” she shouted, “behave yourselves!” There was some laughter at her choice of words, but the crowd settled down.
“As you’ve noticed, Prince Stavin of Evandia has graced us with his presence. Though he is distantly related to many of us, keep in mind that he is a prince of Evandia’s Zel’Andral Dynasty. That means mind your manners!” The crowd laughed again as she turned toward Stavin.
“Prince Stavin, how long will you be staying with us?” she asked in a normal tone of voice, and the crowd quieted so they could hear the answer.
“I had originally planned on ten days in Zel’Kassel and two here, but the incident this morning has made me reconsider. If you’ll have us, I would prefer to just stay here for the whole time.”
There was a spontaneous cheer from those who were close enough to hear his answer, and the news spread through the crowd quickly. Lady Sahrana bowed slightly and said, “You and your men are welcome here as long as you wish to stay, Prince Stavin, and I would be pleased to be your hostess. The estate can easily accommodate all of you.”
Stavin bowed his acceptance and Lady Sahrana led him through the gate. The Zel’Aniston estate, like many that had survived from imperial times, had once been the whole town.
“Aniston was founded in the twentieth year of Emperor Yantel Zel’Ordal,” Lady Sahrana said as they walked. “Our ancestor Anis Kel’Halin was a hero of Lux, and was granted this entire valley for his service to the emperor. The truth of the matter is lost to time, but the legend says he saved the emperor’s daughter from an Ocellen. The emperor elevated him to Chosen status and this became Anis’s Town, and he was allowed to change his name to Zel’Aniston. Though we have a good sampling of other families, Zel’Anistons, Kel’Anistons, Fel’Anistons, Bel’Anistons, and Del’Anistons make up more than half of the population.”
“If I remember right, that makes Aniston more than twenty-two hundred years old,” Stavin said as he looked around.
“Twenty-two hundred seventy-three on the last anniversary,” Lady Sahrana confirmed with a smile. “We predate Zel’Kassel by about sixteen hundred years.”
Stavin said, “Gods Above,” in an awestruck whisper as he looked around.
“Indeed, Prince Stavin, and it is the Gods Above who we worship here. I’m sure you noticed the layout of the city: Five sectors and main roads named to honor the Gods Above.” She paused as Stavin considered her statement.
When Stavin looked at her, she continued. “While Reynadia officially recognizes the worship of both Lady Sahren and Lord Lebawan, we of Aniston only worship the Elder Gods Above.” She shrugged and smiled slightly. “With an occasional nod to Lady Sahren. Lebawan’s followers are banned. It seems that one of the Cutter’s priests tried to condemn the only daughter of one of my ancestors and claim Aniston for Lebawan and his followers. The girl had a wine-stain birthmark on her face. Lord Alvar Zel’Aniston beheaded the priest and all of his followers with his own hand and tossed their dismembered bodies into the dung heap behind our stables. He made it a law that the same thing should happen to any of Lebawan’s followers who try and set up h
ere.”
Stavin was nodding with a smirk on his face. “I like it. Short, sweet, and direct.”
“It’s only been enforced once in the six hundred and some years since then. Once word made it back to Rey that we meant it, they gave up on us. The Priests of the Cutter like condemning others, not being condemned themselves.”
Stavin nodded. “Lebawan’s priests have been a thorn in my foot for several years. They seem to think they can take Evandia for Lebawan by taking me. Last night was just the latest in a long string of attacks.”
Lady Sahrana looked sideways at him. “After what happened in Coravia, I’m surprised they haven’t given up. Exactly what happened last night, Prince Stavin?” she asked. “I was informed that you had been attacked, but not who did it.”
Stavin shook his head. “Some fool of a priest named Del’Horse--”
“That arrogant ass!” Lady Sahrana snarled. “Sovana has to do something about him now.”
Stavin laughed, startling her. “Yes, bury him. He thought his mage could overcome the dragon-magic of my armor. If a Black Adept of Eshokanal--” Stavin’s voice failed as the light around them intensified to a blinding intensity.
“Let the Light of Arandar the Bright shield you from evil,” Lady Sahrana intoned, “and let the love of the Gods Above fill your soul.” Lady Sahrana turned toward Stavin as the light faded. “Never speak the name of any of the Gods Below, young man, and especially not that one,” she scolded.
Stavin was still gulping in fear as he said, “That’s never happened before,” in a husky voice that trembled like his shaking hands.
Lady Sahrana seemed to loom over Stavin. “We actively worship the Gods Above here, Prince Stavin. We do not name the Gods Below. However, for Arandar’s Light to have reacted to you like that, there has to have been something more.”
Varik and his team came running up to Stavin’s side and Varik demanded, “What was that!?”
“It’s all right, Var. You’d think by now I’d have learned to watch my mouth.” Stavin turned and bowed deeply to Lady Sahrana. “My apologies, Lady Sahrana. My encounter with the priests of the Evilest One is not common knowledge.”
Gods Above and Below (Stavin DragonBlessed Book 6) Page 3