The Black Orb
by
Sabine A. Reed
Cover Design by LFD Designs
Originally published by Uncial Press (Aloha, Oregon) in 2011
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events described herein are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
The Black Orb
Copyright © 2011 by Sabine A. Reed
All rights reserved. Except for use in review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the author or publisher.
The Black Orb
An accomplished thief, Aria runs cons and picks pocket so that she can support her older brother, who is one of nature's innocents. When he disappears, she fears he has been abducted by the minions of the Queen of Azmeer, and forcefully recruited in her army. While seeking word of his fate, she narrowly escapes capture herself. She is aided by an old man who appears to have strange and magical powers. Bikkar claims to know how she can free her brother and at the same time defeat the Queen's potent weapon, the Black Orb, which sucks power from mages.
But before they do that, Bikkar must escape the stone warriors who pursue him, and Aria must die, for no living person can wield the magical Dragon Claw.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
About the Author
Chapter 1 -The Demon Mages
Prologue
The old man stood in front of the heavy oak doorway. It was close to high noon but the rays of the blistering sun barely penetrated the thick canopy of the trees that hid the ancient stone structure from prying eyes. The door was covered with creeping ivy. Dusting off mud from his cloak, he stepped forward and muttered the words that had not been uttered in over three hundred years.
"La Khatam Duan Ma Yuan Veil."
A shudder went through the earth beneath him in response to the magic he invoked. He suppressed the urge to flee.
"La Khatam Duan Ma Yuan Veil."
Once again, the earth beneath his feet shook restlessly, almost as if to warn him not to proceed. Ignoring the knot of fear that wedged itself in his stomach, he repeated the same words a third time, setting in motion a sequence of events that might lead to his eventual death. The doors started to pull apart, leaving an opening big enough for a grown man to squeeze through.
He walked inside the Tomb of Issar, the long-forgotten God of War. When he emerged, the sun was nearly down. In the faint evening light, he glanced at the treasure clutched in his hand and broke into a fast run, towards the clearing where his horse was tied.
The hunt had begun. And there was not a moment to lose.
Chapter One
Aria stood at the corner, waiting for the mark to show up. Earlier, she had spotted him at the fair. He was loitering near the food stalls, stuffing his already bulging stomach with sweet cakes and eyeing the women around him with a lecherous gaze. She would have easy pickings tonight.
There he was, lurching forward on unsteady legs. Clearly, he had been drinking steadily through the night.
"Hey, handsome!" she called as he drew near. Thrusting her hip at an angle, she angled her body towards him. "Wanna have a good time tonight?"
He stopped and gazed at her out of glazed eyes. "How much?"
"For you, darling, only three silver coins." She ran her fingers through her long, black tresses and pouted at him.
"Are you mad, woman? One silver coin and that's it."
"Oh, you drive a hard bargain." Aria giggled and sashayed closer. "Do you have a room?"
"At the corner of the street." His words were slurred. "Come. I'll give you a good time tonight."
Drawing her cloak tightly about her, Aria covered her head with her headband. She did not want the tavern keeper to remember anything about her. Her mark staggered his way to the tavern and led her upstairs. Late as it was, there were not many customers at the bar and the tavern keeper was busy cleaning in the kitchen.
Once they were inside, he closed the door and took off his cloak. "Show me the goods, sugar cake." He slapped her lightly on her buttocks.
Obligingly, Aria took her cloak off. She was wearing a low cut grass-green gown underneath, one that showed off her bosom and tiny waist to perfection.
He grinned and licked his lips. "Well, well. You're a fine looking woman. If you're as good in bed as you look, I might keep you for the entire three nights I'll be here. Come here now. Lose the gown."
"What's the hurry?" Aria nodded towards the jug of ale that stood on a table in one corner of the room. "My throat is parched. Let me have a drink first."
He took off his tunic and scratched his hairy chest. There were two leather pouches hanging on a belt around his ample hips. "Pour me one," he ordered.
As she walked over to the table, Aria slipped her hand inside her satchel and took out a small wooden box. She bent to place her satchel near the table. With her back towards her customer, she opened the box and put some powder in the ale cup before pouring the ale for him. With the box safely hidden in her hand, she offered him the ale cup.
He drank it down in one big gulp.
She took the cup from him and placed it on the table. As there was no other cup in the room, she dared not chance pouring herself a drink. The residual powder might still be in the cup and since it was a highly potent sleeping potion, she did not want her senses dulled. There was still much work left ahead of her.
"Come now, my pretty, drink up quickly." He was already fighting to keep his eyes open. "Let's not waste any more time."
After taking one step towards her, he swayed and fell to the floor. Even in sleep he wore a surprised expression.
Aria put the box inside her satchel. The powdered drug worked fast, but its effect would wear off before dawn. Before that, she intended to be far away from him.
With nimble fingers she unhooked his belt and took off his coin-filled pouches. One was filled with silver coins and the other with gold. Taking out three gold coins, she set them on the table. The tavern keeper would be paid and her mark would have enough coin to go back home.
She searched the rest of his luggage and found nothing of importance, save for personal belongings and a few pieces of fine ladies' cloth which he had probably bought for his wife. Those she left in the room. She donned her cloak, tying it under her neck to make sure that her gown did not show, and slipped out of the room.
Stealthily, she walked down the stairs of the tavern, the stolen bounty hidden in her satchel. No one was in the bar and the main door was closed. Aria slipped the chain off the hook and hurried out before the tavern keeper came to investigate.
It was late. The half moon hung luminous in the sky, surrounded by twinkling stars. The streets of Kalaba were deserted. Close by a dog barked and was answered by another one. Thieves and drunkards roamed the cobbled lanes, looking for easy marks and harlots. It was not safe for a young woman to be out alone.
The city was set in a haphazard manner; houses sat next to taverns and shops nestled alongside random dwellings. Narrow lanes crisscrossed each other, all leading towards the main square of the city. Overfilled drains spewed muck on the lanes an
d doorsteps of the houses.
Aria set off in the opposite direction, making for the far edge of the city. She knew every turn of the lanes and was soon near her destination. As the first rays of dawn broke through the cover of the night, she slipped her key into a keyhole and entered a small foyer. Quietly, she swung the satchel off her shoulder and walked through the darkened hallway into the kitchen. After groping in the dark, her agile fingers found the short white candle and the matches that lay next to it. She lit the candle and stood back as it cast the room in an eerie yellow light.
"Where've you been?"
Aria jumped. "Shayla!" A petite woman with an exasperated look on her face stood in the doorway watching her. "You scared me half to death."
Shayla entered and pulled back one of the rickety chairs beside the table in the center of the room. "Serves you right. I was up half the night worrying about you. Sit. I saved some soup for you."
"You shouldn't have." Aria took off her cloak and hung it on a hook. With a quick swipe, she removed the headband that covered her black curly hair and tossed it on the table, along with the satchel. She was hungry, not to mention bone-weary from the day's work. Yawning, she sat down on the chair. "Where's David?"
David was Shayla's five-year old son. Her husband had died two years ago, leaving her alone to raise the boy. She did a good job keeping a roof over their head by running a fruit and vegetable stand in the local market. It was not a luxurious existence but it was an honest one, she liked to say--a fact over which she always clashed with Aria.
"David's still sleeping." Shayla lit a fire under the soup pot that was already on the stove. It was a bare kitchen, with few well-used pots and pans. "Where have you been? I thought you were at the fair and would be back by midnight?" There was resignation in her voice. She did not approve of Aria's choice of profession.
Aria was not a woman of loose morals. She was a thief and a con-artist. Her victims, over the years, had been old and young, handsome and ugly, short and tall, mostly male but not always. The only element in common being that they were all rich. She'd been running a scam at the fair for the past week, pretending to read people's palms and telling them their future. "I was leaving and then I saw this fat man ogling women. He was such an easy mark."
"I wish you would stop doing that." Shayla frowned. "It makes me uneasy to think of you doing such dangerous business alone, without anyone to help you. If only Marcus was here..." Picking up a simple wooden bowl from a shelf above the stove, she ladled a generous portion of soup in it. She placed it in front of Aria, along with a big slab of homemade bread.
Aria sighed and answered the unspoken question. "I didn't find him." Marcus was her older brother. He had been missing for the past three weeks. Ordinarily Aria would not have run the harlot scam without him being there as her backup but she needed to earn a living. Since he had not come home for so long, she had been forced to work without him.
"Did you ask everyone at the market? They all know him well. Perhaps, someone saw him?" Hope simmered in Shayla's tired eyes. It was clear she had not slept well.
Aria shook her head. "No sign of him anywhere. I don't know where to look next. This has never happened before."
"Marcus has disappeared for days before," Shayla said. "You've told me so yourself." A desperate edge of fear sharpened her voice. "Maybe he went out of town and can't find his way back?"
"Marcus isn't stupid." Aria snapped out the words, and instantly regretted causing the hurt in Shayla's eyes. Shayla was as worried about Marcus as she was.
Her brother was a simpleton, a child inside a man's body. He had been like that since childhood. His vulnerability made Aria all the more protective towards him, despite the fact that she was younger.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude." Aria shook her head. "It's just that I know that if he'd gone out of town, he would've come back by now. He would never leave us alone for so many days, knowing that David, you and I would be worried about him. Are you sure you didn't have a lovers' tiff that made him want to take off?"
A warm blush covered Shayla's cheeks. "I would never fight with Marcus. Never!"
Pressing her fingers to her eyelids, Aria took a deep breath. Shayla and Marcus had been lovers for the past eight months. The fact that Shayla was five years' older than Marcus had caused Aria some misgivings initially. She had been distrustful of the older woman at first, but Shayla's open and honest love for Marcus soon won her over.
"There is no alternative," she muttered, almost to herself. "I'll have to check the guards' list for the prisoners."
Shayla gasped. "You don't think..."
"It's the only thing left to do," Aria whispered. Every few months, the Queen's guards rounded up young and able-bodied men from the streets of various cities and villages and sent them off to the capital, Akba, for an oath-taking ceremony before the Queen. Once the men took their oaths of loyalty, they were sent to the border for training. Many of them returned as city guards and some remained at the border as border patrol. Over the last few months, there had been rumors that such round-ups had increased in number and that the Queen was enlisting more men for a war with the neighboring country, Bagdesh.
Usually, Aria paid little attention to the activities of the crown. Her survival and that of her brother's was paramount.
All that had changed since her brother's disappearance over three weeks ago. For the initial few days, she had not worried. Despite his childlike behavior, Marcus was capable of taking care of himself. It was possible he had followed a potential mark out of the city.
Now, so many days later, Aria knew he was in trouble. He would never have left them for so long. Fear for her brother's safety was a thick cold fist around her heart.
"But the prisoners? Most of them never come back." Shayla sat down. Her eyes filled with tears.
Sunlight streamed in through the windows and cast thin silvery streams on the rough table. Aria reached forward to pinch the wick of the candle between her thumb and finger. For a long moment, neither woman spoke. Aria dipped her spoon into the soup and stirred, unmindful of the delicious aroma that filled the room.
"Marcus will come back," she said finally, and spooned the hot soup into her mouth, not even wincing when the hot liquid burnt its way down her throat.
She would make sure he did, for he was all she had and losing him to the Queen was not an option.
"How would you get the list of those taken?" Shayla placed her hands on the table. "It must be in the Guardhouse. No one would let you in."
"I'll have to sneak in and steal it."
"Steal the list?" Shayla gaped in shock. "The Guardhouse has more than fifty guards. It will be impossible! And if you get caught..."
"I'll be hanged for treason." Aria said with fake nonchalance. "But don't worry. I won't get caught. I'm good at what I do."
Shayla gulped but did not say a word. But the worry etched in her eyes conveyed a million thoughts.
"I'll find Marcus," Aria vowed. He was her only family. There was nothing she would not do to ensure his safety, even if it meant risking her very life to do so.
Chapter Two
Three days later, an old woman hobbled her way to the main guards' house at the far end of the town.
She spoke with a faint wheezing voice to the bored guard sitting on a chair in front of the captain's room. "My dear sir, could I have a meeting with your master?"
"My master?" The guard scratched his chin and stifled a yawn. "Oh, you mean, the captain of the guard?"
"Yes, my dear sir." She all but groveled at his feet, sitting down on the floor next to him, her back hunched over with age. "I lost my son, Ahmal close to five days ago and can't find the boy anywhere. The young man at the city gate told me to come here and ask the captain. Has he been enlisted in the Queen's army?"
"How old was the boy?"
"Forty-one." She adjusted her headband, from which escaped a few stray locks of white hair. Her skin was a splotchy yellow color, spotted by red
blisters that rose up angrily on her nose and forehead. Her teeth were stained brown with tobacco and lack of hygiene. "Two months hence will be his forty-second birthday."
"No men have been enlisted in the past week," the guard said. "Men over thirty are not to be rounded up anyway."
The old woman started wailing. "Oh, my Ahmal! Where would I find him? Where is he gone? Ahhh!" She beat her chest with both her hands. "I'm but an old woman. What would I do without my Ahmal? Who will get food for me? Ahh!"
"Be quiet, you." The guard hit the side of her face. "The captain won't like all this wailing. Your son must've run off to be away from an old hag like you. Go away, now!"
"Ahh!" His slap only seemed to spur the old woman on. She beat her fists on her chest once more. "What will I do? Where will I go? Oh, my Ahmal!"
"What is all this noise?" The captain of the guard emerged from his room. He was a tall strong man with thick black hair. "Who is she?"
The guard almost fell in his effort to drag the woman up. "She's searching for her son, captain. He's forty-one years old and I assured her that he hasn't been enlisted in the Queen's army."
"Get her away from here," the captain ordered, clearly disinterested in the woman's plight. "We've no place for such filth in our quarters."
"Oh, please help me find my son, kind sir." The old woman threw herself at the captain. With one swipe, he pushed her off and wiped his hand on his tunic.
"Get rid of her," he ordered.
"Yes, captain." The guard all but dragged her behind him in his eagerness to get away from the captain. "Are you crazy? Throwing yourself at the captain like that? You're lucky he did not flog you. Who let you in? It must be Lith, he has a soft heart for beggars like you."
He dragged her towards the main gate. "I tell you, you'll make me lose my job. I just joined a few weeks ago and have yet to receive my audience with the Queen, to take my oath and confirm my position at the Guardhouse. And here you come, making trouble for me. Your son is not here. Go and search the city for him. Off with you." He shooed her off towards the gate.
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