Ashes

by C B Samet

  He introduced himself formally. “I am Boyo Vinchenko, Ambassador to Bellos and King Artemis Stout.”

  “I am Baird Fox. This is Abigail Cross, Hans Stallman, and Coco DeFay. Captain DeFay heads Queen Rebekah’s guard on Crithos. We are traveling east to find a cure for the plague.”

  “Thank you for the rescue. I will accompany you as far as the edge of the Waterlands, if that is not a burden.”

  “Can you ride?” I asked.

  He nodded. His gaze flickered from me to my hawk to the wolf beside my horse.

  “Take my horse.” I swung a leg over and dropped off Phobus with Carrot still perched on my arm. “We need to move quickly, though, and make up for lost time.”

  I gave the stranger Phobus’ reins, ignoring the surprised looks from Coco and Hans. We didn't know if Boyo was trustworthy—though his mannerisms and proper speech suggested his claim of being part of the King’s court were true. Yet, I felt secure. My horse and I shared a special bond, and I knew Phobus would never allow himself to be stolen and ridden away from me.

  I turned to Coco as she sat atop Prince.

  “Climb aboard,” she offered a hand and freed a stirrup for me to use.

  First, I turned to Hans. “Take Carrot.” I gave him one of my leather vambraces and transferred the bird to his arm.

  Although he looked stiff and uncertain, Hans smiled in awe at the hawk as she settled on his arm. He admired her shimmering orange and brown feathers.

  After I hoisted myself up onto Prince, I situated myself behind Coco’s saddle.

  We started moving— winding down the road away from the butcher’s shop. After a spell, we encountered what I presumed to be the work of Preacher Pinsky. Bodies were strewn up on trees with thick rope. Their mutilated corpses testified to terrible suffering and painful death. Those who hung there had clearly been tortured—beaten, blinded, and eviscerated. They’d not been given so much as a grain of peace or dignity.

  Flies circled the corpses, and gaping holes in their torn flesh were evidence that wild animals had scavenged these bodies. The stench of decay and defecation hovered near them.

  “Merciful Monks.” My eyes watered. What had mankind become? Who were we if we were capable of such horrors in times of crisis?

  Boyo’s face looked pale as he stared at a fate he had barely avoided himself.

  “I’ll not regret killing Pinsky a day of my life after seeing this,” Hans said, through clenched teeth.

  “We need to bury them,” Baird said.

  “We can’t spare the time,” Coco said. “We’ll come back and do it when the quest is finished.”

  “A prayer then for now.” Baird remained on his horse as he recited the Callabus prayer for the dead. His voice was deep and melodic.

  “My time to rest,

  My place to nest.

  Take my soul home,

  End my weary roam.

  Light a torch for me,

  My body from sand to sea.

  From the sea to the moons,

  By the stars rests my tomb.”

  We lingered only a moment in silence, before riding away from this scene of death.

  15

  Our group quietly rode down a dirt lane, heading east and leaving Billington far behind us. I was grateful to be moving away from the zealots and their victims.

  A well-groomed road spanned ahead with alternating stretches of woods, grasslands and farmland on either side.

  “You trust him?” Coco asked, turning her head and keeping her voice low.

  I knew she referred to our new guest—Boyo Vinchenko. “I don't have a reason not to. You don’t?”

  “I don't trust anyone on first introduction.”

  I looked at Boyo as he rode, then down towards Fury as he trotted along beside Unis. Fury seemed neutral toward Boyo—neither friendly nor wary. He behaved the same toward Coco, and she was friend, not foe.

  “Well, one thing’s for sure. He won't challenge the four of us and a wolf. We can rotate our watch tonight. We want to be alert for attackers anyway. Our night vigil can include watching our guest.”

  “Let's do that.”

  As the sun began to set, we made camp. We selected a site well out of view of the road we traveled. I started the fire as Baird prepared a meal. Coco and Hans constructed the tents.

  Using flint, I showered sparks onto soft, dry grass. When it began to smoke, I added twigs and then larger branches from the woods nearby.

  Baird situated a pot over the fire. He added water, dried beans, and dried beef to the pot before letting it simmer. I stole a glance at the stew and frowned. I missed Mo’s cooking already.

  While the food was cooking, Hans and I fed the horses. Fury and Carrot left in search of their own dinner.

  When the food was ready, we sat around the fire eating bowls of soup. We formed a circle with Coco to my right and Raven to my left.

  “How long have you been in Kovia?” I asked.

  Boyo took a long sip from his flask. I suspected he filled it with moon juice rather than water. After suffering in captivity, I imagined he needed a drink.

  “Two months. I've been traveling from city to city, meeting delegates of the court. My next stop was Kovo, the capital, when the plague struck. They shut down travel into the city. There are rumors it's a city of corpses now. I decided to escape to Sylvia. It's a port city where I hoped to secure passage back to Bellos. In the process, my carriage was stolen and my manservant killed. I travelled on foot when Pinsky captured me two days ago. Elliptical zealot. He planned to kill me—planned to kill all of us! They burned a captive a day.”

  We sat in silence for moment, contemplating the horror of awaiting one's own execution. Out of all of us perched around the fire, Coco had come closest to such an experience. She’d been taken hostage and brutalized by the Dantajists—a bloodthirsty band of giants on Southern Crithos. At the time, she hadn't known if she’d survive captivity.

  I glanced at Coco. Her face looked paler than normal, even with the orange glow of the fire to light it.

  “I met the ambassador of Kovia.” I thought back to the spring ball and hoped my friend with the long scar still lived.

  Boyo gave me an appraising look, as though my association with the ambassador elevated his impression of me. “Goran Foal. He’s an honorable man, if a bit gruff. He was part of the Kovian guard before an injury rendered him lame. During his recovery, he learned Bellosian, Crithian, and Sellosian dialects. His linguistic abilities make him good for international work, but his diplomatic skills need polishing.”

  My question uncovered information on Goran I didn’t know; but more importantly, it lent validity to Boyo’s assertion that he was an ambassador to Bellos. How else would he know so much about another country’s ambassador?

  “Do you actually think you can find a cure?” Boyo asked, looking around the group.

  “We intend to try,” Baird replied.

  I explained, “The Omega plague originated from exposure to bats—carriers of the disease. The same way we know rats carry the Jau virus. Securing a carrier is one of the components to formulating a cure.”

  “Please take no offense to this, but it seems a bit late for a cure. Eighty percent of the population is already dead.”

  Coco set her empty soup bowl aside and reached for her cup of water. “Too late for Kovia, yes. But Crithos can be saved.”

  “Do you know if it's reached Bellos?” I asked Boyo.

  He shook his head solemnly.

  I added. “Do you know why you were unaffected?”

  “Through no reason of valor.” He pursed his lips as he looked into the fire. “I immediately left every place I traveled to that was infected. I heard the rumors that nothing could be done to save the plague’s victims, so I did nothing except keep moving to keep myself alive.”

  “We’re going to find a cure,” Hans said. “If you want the opportunity to help, you can join us.”

  I wouldn’t have made the same offer. We did
n't have an extra horse or the spare food for an additional team member. Yet, when I looked at Hans, he seemed to be analyzing Boyo, assessing his character. If Boyo declined, then perhaps he feigned guilt rather than felt genuine remorse at not offering to help the sick and suffering.

  Hans continued, “Another day or two’s ride east, and we'll be at the mines.”

  “Two days?” Boyo shook his head. “It's at least five days to the mines from here by horseback.”

  Hans frowned.

  Baird produced the map from his bag and unrolled it. “Our map has been to scale thus far. Here we are—and here are the mines.” He pointed to each location.

  “Yes,” Boyer concurred, “but you cannot go directly through the Waterlands.”

  “Is it impossible on horseback?” Coco asked.

  Boyo blinked at her. “It cannot be traversed by any modality. The Waterlands are filled with springs and geysers. The land is cursed—everyone on Kovia will tell you that.”

  “Cursed waterworks?” Raven asked skeptically.

  Boyo glanced at Raven, as though unsure how to behave toward such a small, yet intelligent creature.

  “I’ve read about the claims,” Baird said. “The Waterlands assault one’s sanity. Something about seeing the future?”

  “It’s worse than that. Most lose their minds or become infatuated with solving the mysteries of the images they see.” Boyo took another drink from his flask.

  Baird’s expression turned grave. “Seeing glimpses of a fluid future can be unnerving for some. The very nature of seeing an event might alter one's actions, and affect the outcome.”

  “It is forbidden to trespass on the Waterlands,” Boyo stated.

  Coco leaned forward with her legs crossed. “It is forbidden? Or cursed?”

  “Both.”

  Coco crossed her arms, and for a moment, she and Raven held the same skeptical pose.

  “Everyone says it's cursed because the people who emerge—well, they’re not the same. It drives people mad. Trespassing has been against the law for hundreds of years. Only the king is allowed to ordain men to enter.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “So, the king is monopolizing the ability to see the future?”

  Boyo shook his head in frustration. “You make it sound conspiratorial. The king is only trying to protect people.”

  “We can't afford the time to travel around it,” Baird said. “Tell us everything you've heard about the geysers.”

  “Rumors claim that when you look into a geyser, you see the future.”

  “Any future? Or one specific to you?”

  “I’ve never asked.”

  “So, conceivably, we need only not to look into a geyser?”

  Boyo’s expression grew more irritated. “Certainly—but if it were so simple, the land would not be cursed.”

  “Does it have any effect on animals?” Baird asked.

  “I don't know.”

  I tilted my head towards Baird. “What are you thinking?”

  “We could blindfold three of us and have one take the lead. Horses and blinded riders can follow the lead horse.”

  Boyo stood and stretched. “I see I cannot dissuade you. I wish you safe passage. I’ll travel with you tomorrow to the edge of the Waterlands, and then I’ll venture south alone. Tonight, I rest.”

  We watched him walk to his tent.

  Baird turned to Coco. “Night watch?”

  She nodded.

  “I’ll go first,” he offered.

  As I looked at the unwashed dishes, I considered how Boyo hadn’t contributed to setting up the tents, preparing dinner, or cleaning up. Perhaps he was unaccustomed to thinking of such things, in his privileged role as an ambassador.

  I lay staring up at the slate-colored fabric walls of the tent, as they swayed gently from an outside breeze. Coco lay quietly beside me. Since Boyo had my tent, I was sharing Coco’s.

  “You miss Joshua?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you think this will work?”

  I presumed she referred to the magic cure rather than the blindfolded passage through The Waterlands.

  “I've seen enough magic to believe.” Magic thus far had never failed me. “Magic has rules and parameters that have to be followed, but it works. I seldom understand it fully, but it works.”

  “And what about the cost to Joshua?” Her tone was soft and delicate—out of character for the Coco I knew.

  “If it works, then it will be worth the risk of weakening him. If it doesn't work, then he, too, will die of the disease. I'd rather take my chances with the magical cure.”

  “No matter the cost?”

  I turned to stare at her. “What are you getting at?”

  “Nothing.” She bristled.

  Silence settled over the moment.

  Wonderful. Another unfinished conversation.

  To change the subject, I asked, “What happened with you and Baird?”

  “What do you mean?”

  I barely suppressed a sigh. “You were courting each other at one point a few years ago. Why did it end?”

  “You mean he didn't share those details with his beloved champion?”

  “What? No. We may spend time sparring, but I know very little of his personal affairs.”

  She unleashed a great sigh that deflated her haughty tone. “We have different life objectives.”

  I waited for her to elaborate, but she didn't. “Are your objectives so incompatible?” I asked.

  “My devotion is to the Queen. His passion is to travel and cultural studies.”

  I thought about Baird’s books. He’d studied and written about almost every cultural group on Crithos. He said he wanted to explore other continents next.

  “Is there no compromise? What if you became an ambassador like Boyo? Traveling to other countries?”

  “I'm a warrior not a political figure.”

  I couldn't argue with her statement. Diplomacy was not a strength she possessed. I could relate.

  “Is there anyone else?”

  “Truthfully? Relationships within the castle walls are difficult. I never know if a suitor is interested in me, sleeping with the Captain of the Guard, or just gaining a closer audience with the court.”

  “That's awful.”

  She chuckled “Yes. Quite right.”

  “So, one of the few men who has no ulterior motives, Baird, is incompatible because he wants travel and immerse himself in foreign culture. You, meanwhile, must stay near Marrington to protect the Queen. Is that right?”

  Coco didn't answer. The tent had grown dark, so I couldn't see her expression.

  I continued, “He has a star. He could be with you most evenings, when he isn't sailing the ocean.” Since a ship sailed in constant motion, there was no way to transport back to it if he left.

  “He suggested as much.”

  “Then what's your hesitation?”

  “You.”

  “Me?” I jerked my head toward her.

  “He adores you, Abigail. You and he share a connection. I can't compete with that.”

  “You have nothing to compete with! We’re friends. Dear friends. We have nothing romantic in our relationship, and I’d never be unfaithful to Joshua.”

  “You and Baird will outlive Joshua and I.”

  “And I can’t stomach the thought of life without Joshua. I can’t fathom how I’ll survive that unhappy day. But, I assure you, I don’t consider Baird a companion in the way you suggest.”

  “And your connection to him?”

  She referred to our link, which allowed us to communicate across the world and without others knowing. “It’s unusual, and intrusive, and we didn’t want it at first, but it has been extraordinarily valuable in times of crisis. We once saved an entire island from a harbor wave because we could communicate with our minds. I couldn’t have done it without him.”

  These days, we mostly used it so he and Joshua could coordinate fishing trips.

  I continued, “I a
ssure you, there’s nothing romantic about the thoughts we communicate.”

  “Or the magic stone you gave him?”

  “No, I—”

  “Or the wolf you gave him?”

  “I—” After stammering, I fell silent. I could see how my actions could be misconstrued by another woman.

  She chuckled. “You did all of that out of friendship?”

  “Yes. Strictly platonic.”

  “Perhaps I’ve been overly-jealous.”

  “You’re a beautiful, intelligent woman. You’ve no reason to be jealous of me.”

  After several long moments, Coco said, “Perhaps I’ll speak with Baird.”

  We let the conversation end there, and went to sleep.

  I walked the corridor in my dream, the one with the curtained doors along either side.

  Tonight I resolved to find Orrick, the bestower of my latest magical gift.

  I pulled back curtain after curtain, trying not to voyeuristically linger too long in the privacy of other people’s dreams. One room revealed two carefree teenagers running through a forest. The young man had unruly brown hair and the girl had flowing red hair.

  Oh, Baird.

  I recognized him in his youth from a prior vision we’d shared. The young girl was Mary—the love of his life, who’d died tragically young. So, it was true—a woman did stand between Baird and Coco; only it wasn’t me.

  I hoped Coco would try a relationship again, and help Baird heal from his loss.

  I drew back from the curtain before young Baird could see me.

  Continuing down the corridor, I heard a man’s voice. “Oh, Abigail.”

  Puzzled, I pulled the curtain aside. It was Hans, sitting upright in a large bed with silk, cream-colored sheets, while a woman stripped before him. Her nightgown fell to the floor.

  His green eyes gazed at her with raw hunger. “Yes, come to me.”

  The woman complied. I gaped at her—at me. Han’s dream version of me was flawless, with glossy hair and perfect skin. As she climbed into his bed, I recoiled. I didn’t need or want this insight into Hans, but now that I knew, there was no unknowing it.