Ambition and Alavidha

by Candy Rae

  : It is him. I am sure of it :

  : I am too :

  “Then the sword you have been looking for is gone,” continued the constable. “he was stripped bare when we found him, even down to his shoes and socks.”

  “So that he couldn’t be traced,” observed Daniel in his slow, southern drawl.

  The constable gave him a quick look, mystified as to why a young southern man was travelling with Vadeln Thalia but shrugged it off, even though at Thalia’s urging he was wearing Vada maroon. It was well known that Lind-choice knew no boundaries. A young sailor from Galliard had not long ago sailed off to the mainland and not returned, remaining in Vadath with his Lind.

  “Is there no evidence at all of who did this?” asked Thalia. “They left no clues at all?”

  “Not one. Professional job. His throat was cut clean after his skull was hit with a blunt object, see the contusion here and no evidence of struggle. I’d guess he knew his attackers or if he didn’t know them, he expected to meet them there, we’re assuming there was more than one, in one of the bedrooms of the Rhian Inn.”

  “Have the innkeeper and the servants been questioned?”

  “I did it myself. They claim they saw nothing, heard nothing, nothing suspicious at all.”

  “One or more of the guests perhaps,” opined Daniel, “with a legitimate reason to be there.”

  “That’s my guess. By law every hosteller must keep a record of their guests and we interviewed everyone in the book. The staff swear there were no unauthorised people upstairs. I believe them. Honest place. Honest staff, most have been working there for years.”

  “Are all those in the book still on the island?” queried Thalia.

  “All but two,” the constable answered. “Men of Leithe. They took passage yesterday. Seemed to me there was no reason to detain them. They’ve been here before, come most years I believe. Let me see.” The constable perused his interview notes, “yes, here we are, they hadn’t even seen the murdered man, spent the night quietly in the rooms.”

  “What are their names?” asked Thalia.

  “Samuel Bentwick and his servant Windlor Arturson.”

  “No-one saw them talking to the murdered man?”

  The constable shook his head.

  “The deceased kept to his room, had meals sent up. The maidservants said he was quiet, didn’t give them any trouble.”

  “What kind of business is this Samuel Bentwick in?”

  “Diamond trader.”

  Thalia nodded. The once volcanic island of Galliard was prosperous. About four centuries before diamonds had been found in the mountains. The supply appeared even now to be a never ending one and the diamonds were of very high quality. The Cartel ruled the island, made up of a conglomeration of mine owners. The constable would neither have wished to antagonise foreign diamond merchants nor annoy the Cartel itself.

  “These Leithe men, when they left, they took ship home?”

  “I presume they did,” the constable sounded surprised at Thalia’s question.

  “You didn’t check?”

  “Why should I? It had been determined beyond reasonable doubt that they had nothing to do with the murder. They were not under suspicion.”

  “Could you find out for us if they did board a ship bound for Leithe?”

  “If you like. Might take some time. Hey, you don’t think they did have something to do with the murder do you?” he looked uncomfortable. What his superiors would think if he had let the murderers leave the island he didn’t want to imagine.

  “Probably not. Will you send word when you find out?”

  “Yes. Where will you be?”

  “On the Dalina, she’s in harbour, buoy seven.”

  “I’ll send word,” he promised, “and you won’t forget to give me a list of the stolen goods your thief was carrying. They might yet turn up.”

  “We will,” promised Thalia in turn, “but the main thing is the sword, an old sword, like mine.” She tapped the hilt, “but a bit bigger and wider of the blade. Very old, no rust but stained by age. It is much revered amongst the Vada as it belonged to our very first commander, also a collar, studied with agates and rhinestones, not valuable but it is also precious to us.”

  “I’ll ask around. The Cartel will help, they don’t like unexplained murders and the like round here; it’s bad for business. I’ll send men to speak to the other merchants.”

  “Thank you,” smiled Thalia, donating upon him her most winning smile.

  The constable blushed.

  Daniel smiled a secret smile at the man’s discomfiture. He knew what the man was thinking and felt sure he had looked very much as the constable was on occasions too numerous to count.

  * * * * *

  Back on board the Dalina the four adults discussed the situation. Zeb had not yet returned and Thalia was beginning to suffer twinges of anxiety about him. The boy had a propensity for getting into trouble, minor things but trouble all the same.

  : He is even better at getting out of it : offered Josei. His words did manage to allay her fears a little.

  : Indeed? And who was it who fell into the vat at the Supply Station? : she countered with a ‘voice’ full of irony : and we would never have guessed it was him who spilt its contents if he hadn’t owned up to Daniel. Actually, did you or Vya have something to do with it? His owning up? :

  : We might have done :

  : And there was the little matter of the mix up of the shoes :

  : That was mischief, no more :

  : I had to apologise to no less than ten people! :

  : But he did own up to that too :

  : You think Zeb a reformed character I see :

  : All boys get up to tricks : answered the tolerant Josei.

  : Just keep an eye on him Josei and Vya too. Make sure his little escapades don’t get out of hand :

  : Out of paw sounds much better :

  * * * * *

  “How did the King of Leithe find out about the power core in the first place?” asked Thalia.

  “I’ve been thinking about that and I can come up with one plausible explanation. Want to hear it?”

  “Course I do you impossible …. Person!”

  “It was something I heard from my Father when I was little. He was talking to my uncle. Did you know that the King of Leithe, before he became king, visited Murdoch?”

  “No I didn’t.”

  “Well, it was a Grand Occasion with a capital ‘G’. Jousts and feasting and all the rest. He visited the then Duke of Duchesne. I think he must have found out about it then. The old Duke was quite a collector. I’ve seen it myself. He collected a huge library and it was filled with old books and manuscripts.”

  Thalia pricked her ears, “library? Books from all over?”

  “Yes, some are very old, handwritten ones and printed both.”

  A mental picture came into Thalia’s mind of an ambitious Prince of Leithe, bored and at a loose end, thumbing through the ducal library and finding … what? Of course, an account of the aftermath of the Dglai Wars. She rather thought that a volume from the library might well have gone missing around this time.

  : The Avuzdel will find this out : interrupted Josei : Vya will ask if an agent can check :

  : Let’s not get distracted, what’s past is past :

  : She says she will ask anyway :

  “So he reads about it, takes the book and sets about finding out what happened to the core?”

  “That’s it in a nutshell,” said Daniel.

  Thalia regarded Daniel. Her exasperation was obvious, “I wish the Lai could do something, anything to help us in all this. Seems strange that the safety of the world has been entrusted just to us two.”

  “This is our task,” Josei said to both Thalia and Daniel, “and remember, very few know about the core’s existence and it must be kept that way. The more who know the more chance of the secret leaking out.”

  : Vya tells me we have three moons : Josei added.


  : What have three months got to do with it? :

  : She will not say and will not until three have passed or we find the core if sooner :

  : Odd :

  : She has her reasons. She says to tell you that she is under orders not to divulge until then. It is the orders of the Lai and it is our duty not to question. All shall become clear in time. She also says that you are not to tell Daniel about this :

  * * * * *

  Late that night, when their human companions had gone to bed, Vya and Josei were alone in the wardroom. Josei was trying to sleep but he soon found out Vya had other ideas.

  : Josei, can we talk? :

  : We can and certainly you may : Josei replied : what’s the problem, if it is a problem? :

  : Not a problem, no : Vya replied : I’m just not sure what to do :

  : Zeb? :

  : Zeb : she agreed : I am drawn to him more and more each day and I don’t know what to do about it :

  : It seems clear enough to me :

  : You’re talking as a vadeln. I’m Avuzdel. I never thought I’d ever feel drawn to a human :

  : You won’t be able to fight this Vya, especially as the boy is likely to be in our company for some time to come. It will get more difficult with the rise of every sun :

  : I know, I know and the time is not right :

  She lifted up her front paws one after the other with agitation and her whiskers were bristling, a sure sign of uneasiness in a Lind.

  : Is this why you’ve been avoiding being alone with Zeb? : asked Josei : He doesn’t understand why :

  : Yes :

  : Want some advice? :

  : Ceja :

  : Spend as much time as you can with him. Open your mind, don’t try to shut him out. What will be will be :

  : You really think so? :

  : I know so. If you’re not destined to vadeln-pair with Zeb you will know in short-pawed order and if you are then you will also know. It is a wondrous feeling Vya, it cannot be mistaken :

  : I’ll try to get to know him better : she agreed with a wag of her tail. Now that she had come to this decision, it somehow felt particularly pleasing to her.

  * * * * *

  -43-

  VADATH

  Tara and Dsya’s journey across Argyll and over the border into Vadath was without incident. They travelled along what Dsya called ‘the high way’ and were going along, had Tara but known it, the route her sister Thalia had taken during her journey to Port Lutterell but in reverse. They were less likely to meet people who might be looking for them Dsya explained during one of their infrequent rest stops. Winter had begun and the North Caravan Route was but infrequently traversed during the colder (and very much wetter) months.

  Tara quite understood why their journey had to be cold and uncomfortable but she couldn’t help but wish it was a bit drier.

  However, when Tara complained, she was finding this part of the adventure much less exciting that she expected, Dsya reminded her that she should be thankful that no-one was on their trail and to stop feeling sorry for herself.

  After this pep talk Tara kept her grumbles to herself.

  It wasn’t until they crossed the border into Vadath and were running south through the woods that Tara realised that she and Dsya weren’t the only duos travelling to Vada. There was quite a crop of them.

  She met some of them at what Dsya called Domta Alesei, the home of Rtath Alesei. She met one boy who originated in a village near the border and who told her he was the son of a baker, there were two girls who came from mining communities in the Argyllian mountains and also present was a little slip of a boy who admitted to being the youngest son of a carpenter from a small town to the north of Port Lutterell.

  “I’ve always known I was going to join the Vada,” the baker’s son confided, “but I’m only twelve and didn’t expect it just jet. I suppose it’s just come a bit early, that’s all. Marya came for me last tenday. Mum and Dad were surprised.”

  “You’re already life-bonded with Marya then?” asked Tara.

  “Yep, exciting, isn’t it? And that boy over there is bonded too. His name’s Jak. He’s the same. He met his Lind ages ago too. She came early to pick him up same as me. Fact is, most of us here aren’t fourteen yet and I suppose we shouldn’t really be here at all but here we are. Bit odd when you think about it. I’ve asked Marya about it but she won’t say. It’s really exciting and I didn’t think camping and travelling like this could be so much fun.”

  “Oh yes,” agreed Tara, “it’s great fun.” She didn’t think it was but she reasoned, perhaps it was different if you were already vadeln-bonded.

  During the conversations that followed Tara found out that she was the only one not already life-bonded. Of course, she knew that it would be impossible for her and Dsya, as vadeln-pairings were always formed between opposite genders. The knowledge worried Tara but when she spoke of it to Dsya, the tall Lind female told her not to be silly, adding,” do not fret, young Tara, lis of Thalia. You are not the only one and the season has arrived for the calling in of possibles.”

  This comment however, left Tara none the wiser.

  * * * * *

  -44-

  THE DUCHY OF CHARLESON – AT THE NORTH-EASTERN COAST - KINGDOM OF MURDOCH

  The rowing boat rippled over the light wave froth with little sound. The sailor who was rowing the boat was relieved that the grease he had slathered over the rowlocks earlier was working. If they could not be heard they would not be seen, especially in this sparsely populated part of the duchy.

  The two passengers were gazing at the shore, glancing right and left as they watched for the signal.

  “There it is,” said Erik Halfarm, pointing, “row to your left man. Put your back into it.”

  The sailor complied with a grimace and the little boat glided closer to the shore. The keel crunched on to the shingle.

  Erik Halfarm and his companion (the same one who had helped to end Chad Smallhide’s life) jumped out and with neither word nor backward glance splashed ashore.

  The sailor shrugged and jumped out himself.

  “They might at least have helped me push her off,” he muttered crossly.

  Baron Erik Halfarm didn’t hear him but the other man did and turned back to the sailor with an apologetic shrug.

  Pushing the boat off the shingle took the sailor only a few hefty shoves and after clambering back into the boat and grasping the oars the sailor began the long row back to his ship.

  * * * * *

  Erik Halfarm and his man were met by four others, ruffians all. The men were holding six horses, their own and two for the new arrivals.

  Erik’s eyes narrowed as the leader approached them.

  “I thought I had ordered you to buy at least five more,” he growled, “not two.”

  The older of the four gulped but managed to answer.

  “This is a terrible place,” he stammered, “nearest town is eleven leagues away. We were lucky to be able to buy these My Lord. They cost a pretty packet. The horse trader sensed my haste and bargained meanly. There is another town some ways south of here, upriver where we might be able to pick up some spare mounts.”

  “We’ll not be stopping in any towns,” Baron Halfarm informed him, retaining his grumpy voice. Baron Halfarm didn’t like it when plans went awry, even by a little bit. “I suppose we’ll just have to make the best of it. You got the pack-horses?”

  “Pack ponies,” corrected the increasingly nervous man. “There aren’t no pack horses round here. Most trade goods are pulled by oxen.”

  Erik groaned. What a benighted place! Goods, pulled by oxen! Whatever next?

  “They cost a good bit of coin,” continued the man. His Lord was taking the news better than he had expected and he thought he might as well continue with the bad news while the going was good. “I’m afraid I’ll not be giving you much by way of change.”

  To his surprise, the Baron did not appear to be too bothered abou
t the prospect of a few coins in change in return for two average looking horses and three ponies.

  He walked over to inspect the nearest horse, a wall-eyed animal with a strange looking convex nose. The animal snorted and winced at his touch, perhaps sensing the innate nastiness of his new master. Erik tightened the girth, grabbed hold of the pommel of the saddle and mounted. He may have been an islander but he had done enough riding during the last four years or so to make him a competent, if inelegant, horseman.

  “Where to My Lord?” asked the now relaxing leader of the ruffians, mounting his own horse and ordering his three men to go collect a pack pony apiece.

  “South you fool, south,” barked Erik Halfarm.

  The thirty-six hoof cavalcade set off in a southerly direction, the three pony part galloping ponyfully to keep up.

  * * * * *

  -45-

  THE ROYAL PALACE AT FORT, KINGDOM OF MURDOCH

  Years before, treason had been plotted in this very room, a plot which had been successful. That plot had resulted in the death of a king.

  Now, six hundred and twenty-seven years later another treasonable act was being planned.

  In AL 181 the nobles had planned the overthrow of King Xavier the First. This time their target was a Queen.

  Prince Crispin of Leithe was twenty-eight years old, blonde, clear complexioned, tall, straight limbed and athletic. He usually won his jousts in the tiltyard.

  He was also very clever but he took great pains to disguise this fact here in Murdoch, putting on a self-effacing face and a not too bright intellect.

  Empty-headed, frivolous, over-fond of the good things in life most said. Of no account, said others. But they were wrong, Crispin was the true son of his father King Cadan.