The old woman hobbled towards the gate, sobbing quietly. The guard went back to his seat, muttering to himself.
As soon as the guard turned the corner to go back to his seat, the old woman, with surprising alacrity, ran towards the back of the Guardhouse. In moments she was in the archives room.
Aria breathed a sigh of relief as she closed the door behind her. A mistress of disguise, she had found it not too difficult to transform herself into an old woman. She had treated her black hair with a chemical that turned it white and had massaged her unblemished white skin with a homemade cream that changed her complexion to a sickening yellow. With a fine pencil, she had drawn lines of age into her face. The final touch was the red blisters on her nose and forehead. All in all, it was a fine disguise, one that paid off really well.
In her right hand she clutched the ring of keys she had eased out of the captain's belt when she threw herself at him. With any luck he would not miss them until after she was gone.
She had chosen her time with care; it was close to high noon, a time when everyone was settled into their work.
Taking out a candle from the sack flung over her shoulder, she lit it and used its meager light to move past the desks to the shelves at the end of the second room. According to her source, the list of prisoners was kept here. Moving from stack to stack, she checked the dates on the papers and finally found the month she was looking for.
"That's it."
After placing the candle on the floor, she sat down and squinted at the near-illegible scrawl on the paper. Her brother's name was on the list. She gasped, realizing her worst fears were indeed coming to life. Her brother had been captured in the last round-up, and his return was near to impossible.
The men recruited forcefully from the streets were sent to the Queen for an audience. After that, they were taken to an unknown location for training. The toughest among them were given the honor of serving in the Queen's personal guard. The second rank was that of the border patrol. Lastly, the ones left over formed the city guards. They could be sent anywhere into any city of the kingdom. The stories regarding the training seldom trickled down but when they did, there was talk of horrific exercises and punishments for small misdemeanors. It was said that many of those recruited did not survive the training and their bodies were fed to the vultures.
Worse still was the fate of the ones who did come back to their own cities. They were never the same. Those men never smiled or laughed, they did not bond well with their families upon their return, and their only mission seemed to be to serve the Queen. The captain of the guards was an example of such men. Their disinterested eyes and strict demeanor remained the same until their dying day.
It was possible that Marcus would return to the same city from which he was recruited. It was also possible that he might be killed during training. A strong man, he could fight well. But at heart, he was still a child and did not understand the guile of other men. He would be an easy prey for the countless men who would be training with him. If, Goddess willing, he survived all that and returned to this city as a guard, he would never be the same man again.
"Never, I'll not let that happen." After scrunching the paper with both her hands, Aria threw it down.
Just then a sudden noise startled her. Someone was at the door. Quickly, she snuffed out the candle, drowning the room in darkness, and moved to the side wall.
"The lock's broken," she heard someone yell.
"Goddess take them!" she cursed. She had hoped to make her escape before anyone entered the room. Now, she was trapped.
The only way out was the main door. The windows were tightly locked and barred from the inside. If caught, she would be hanged for treason in the city's main square. Accessing the archives' room was not a matter the captain of the guard would take lightly.
She heard another cry from the outside. "Call the men! There's an intruder inside the archives."
"May the Goddess toss the lot of them into everlasting fire!" Aria stamped her foot in frustration. An icy lance of fear jolted through her as she considered her options.
She had none.
Her only avenue of escape was blocked by the guards. She heard them enter the room and saw the flickers of their candles as they spread out. Outside she could hear reinforcements arriving and surrounding the building. Any moment now, they would finish searching the outside room and enter where she was hiding in plain sight.
Suddenly, a rope dangled in front of her. Aria looked up to see a man balancing on the high beam that ran though the length of the room. Without hesitation, she grabbed the rope and scurried up, hand over hand. Within moments, she had propelled herself on to the beam. It was not difficult, for she and Marcus had stayed with a circus for many months. They had learnt acrobatics among other varied skills.
Once she was up, the man wrapped the rope into a tight bundle and motioned for her to follow him across the beam to the other side of the room. Aria walked behind him, listening to the men who searched the adjacent room. Soon they would enter this room and would spot her easily if they looked up.
The man walked to the end of the beam and climbed a thin ladder attached to the wall. It led to the roof, where he slid a wooden panel aside, taking care not to make any noise, and disappeared above. Aria followed him quickly, astonished at this turn of events. As soon as she stepped up on the roof, he slipped the panel back. Doubling over so as to make himself as inconspicuous as possible, he ran across the roof to the boundary wall against which the archives building was located.
A loud cry went off downstairs. Aria knew they had been spotted. Moments later, they crossed the boundary wall and jumped down into the alley that ran behind. She veered off into a side street and soon was too far away from the Guardhouse to worry about pursuit.
Upon entering a narrow alley she knew well, she stopped to take a breath. For now, the coast was clear. Leaning against the wall of an old house, she took a close look at her rescuer who had been running behind her all this while.
"Thank you," she said, as she studied the man who stared back at her with an amused expression. Near to sixty years of age, she guessed, and he was close to her in height. His thick white hair was tied behind his head. For an old man, he was quite agile.
"You're welcome." He stuffed the rope inside one of the satchels on his shoulder.
"Have I seen you before?" She frowned.
"Yes, actually." Grabbing her elbow, he made her walk beside him. "I don't think they will follow us, but we should put as much distance as possible between us and the guards."
"The fair?" Aria remembered. "You came to me, asking about your future."
"And you gazed into your magical crystal ball that has been passed down to you through seven generations and told me that I'll find my heart's desire soon. Remember?"
"Of course I remember." She also recalled that he had looked highly amused by her recital. "What were you doing in the archives room?"
"I've been following you since last night. When I saw you stepping out of your house in that macabre get-up, I realized that you were up to something." He kept his grip on her elbow firm even as she tried to tug her arm free. "So I followed you, and when I heard all that commotion inside, I guessed you were in trouble."
"Damn you, old man. You followed me?" How dare he? And how could she have missed noticing him? What did he want? "I'm not a harlot!"
"Goddess save me, I didn't think you were." He looked at her with a shocked expression. Stopping, he let go of her arm. "Nor do I believe that you're a fortune-teller."
"So what? You want your money back." Aria began to fish in the purse she wore on a belt. "Fine. I'll be happy to repay you. It was a con, so nothing personal. Here, take this." She handed him a silver coin. "Take it and leave me alone."
The old man eyed the coin in her hand. "I don't want my money back. I want you to do something for me."
"Forget it!" Turning, Aria started to walk back. There was another alley here that would get her to Sh
ayla's house quicker. What the old man wanted, she didn't know. But he was making her nervous--and angry. "There is nothing I can do for you."
"There is something I can do for you," he yelled as she marched forward. "I know where your brother is."
Shock froze her feet to the ground. "What?" She turned back. "What did you say?"
"I know where your brother is and I'll help you get there." He stepped close to her, his gaze penetrating deep into hers. "But you've to promise me that once you see him, you'll do something for me."
"You know where my brother is?"
"I saw you looking at the list of prisoners," he said. "I know you've been looking for him all over the city. He has been taken prisoner, hasn't he? I know where all the new prisoners were taken. There is no time to lose, though. If you wish to find him, we'll have to leave today."
Aria stared at him for a few moments. "Why do you help me? And why should I trust you? Who are you?"
He scratched his cheek. "I am Bikkar. As for why I've decided to help you, it's because I need you to do something for me."
He held up a hand to stop her questions before she could ask them. "I'll tell you about it after you've seen your brother. As to why you should trust me... Well, frankly, my dear, you don't have much of a choice if you want to see your brother again in this lifetime."
"Where do we've to go?"
"To Akba, the city that houses the throne of the Queen, the capital of Azmeer."
Within a heartbeat, Aria made her decision. "Follow me." She bounded off towards Shayla's house. "I'll need my things and then we can be off."
Behind her, she sensed him following her.
She could be landing herself in bigger trouble than she imagined, Aria realized as she ran past open doorways and stinking drains, but as he'd said, she did not have a choice. She wanted her brother back. For that, she would make a deal with the devil himself if she had to.
In any case, it would be easy for her to dodge the old man and run away after she rescued Marcus. With a grin, she jumped over an open gutter, sure of herself as always.
Chapter Three
Aria flung open her trunk and got hold of a few clothes. She stuffed them in a satchel and threw it on the bed. There was no time for proper preparations. Thank the Goddess, her tools of the trade were already in one of the satchels she had taken to the Guardhouse: her ropes, knives, tools to pick locks, pastes that could make her skin look pale or shine with luster, the many herbs and potions she used to change her appearances.
"I think it should be enough." She eyed the three satchels on the bed. "I can always buy more if I need any."
"I really think you should reconsider this outrageous idea." Shayla stood at the door, wringing her hands in frustration. David stood next to her, his bright gaze following Aria's every move with interest. "You don't know this person at all. How can you trust him?"
"For the simple reason, "Aria said, "that I have no other choice. Every moment I delay takes Marcus closer to the training garrison. I cannot let that happen." She kissed Shayla on the cheek, rubbed an affectionate hand through David's thick hair, and promised to write when she could.
Aria and Bikkar ran through the streets of Kalaba to the stable where his gelding was stabled. There he purchased a mare for her and they embarked on their journey.
Questions burned in Aria's mind, but this was not the time to seek answers.
Close to mid-afternoon they emerged from the castle gate and headed out into the plains that extended far before them.
The need for speed was great. According to Bikkar, the prisoners had been driven out of the city five days before and were being herded towards the capital on foot. It would take them a week to reach the capital, but on horseback Aria and Bikkar could reach it in three days. Even then, they might be too late. If the Queen granted the prisoners immediate audience, she would then give orders to disperse them to the training grounds, a much feared garrison near the border. It was a place from which recovery of one lone individual was not possible.
They spurred their horses across the open plains that stretched from Kalaba to Akba until the dwindling light forced them to stop. The Great Plains of Azmeer, as they were called, extended for leagues from Kalaba to the mountains of Tambur to the west and the Forest of Dryads to the East. A marked trail led from Kalaba to Akba, but Aria chose not to follow it. In this season, it would be jam-packed with supply wagons and travelers and hence would take longer to negotiate. It would be easier to cut across the plains to Akba.
Bikkar rubbed the horses down with leaves while Aria dug a shallow hole and covered it with dry branches and balls of dried grass. With the two sticks she always carried in her satchel, she lit a fire. Carefully, she built a circle of stones and on it placed a pot filled with water. Cooking was not her forte. Usually it was a task she delegated to Marcus, since he was the one with a greater reservoir of patience. When the fire burned bright, she threw some chunks of dried meat inside the pot and added some random spices.
Bikkar peered into the murky water with trepidation as he came to squat beside her. "Is this going to be edible?"
Aria glared at him. "If you're going to be so picky, it might be a good idea for you to cook while we're on the road."
"I think that would be safer." Bikkar ran a tin spoon inside the pot, moving the bubbling mixture around. He tasted it and sighed. "I'll get something to add to this...concoction."
"Fine. You do that." Aria strode away from the fire and spread her blanket on the hard ground. She wanted to stay close enough to monitor the fire at night. Out of the corner of her eyes, she watched as Bikkar walked away from the camp. "Overbearing old man!" she muttered as she set out her water skin next to her blanket.
During travel, there was no escape from the elements of nature. The Great Plains were open and vast, supporting wild herds of elephants, buffaloes, gazelles, as well as predators such as hyenas and tigers. Digressing away from the trail was certainly not a safe choice, even if it was the most expedient one. A misdirected spark could ignite a horrendous fire in the tall grass that surrounded them. Nonetheless, they could not extinguish the flames for fear of predators.
"Where are you from?" she said when Bikkar came back to the camp, his hands full of black roots. He threw them into the pot, but not before he washed them carefully with drinking water.
He looked up. "What makes you think I'm not from around here?"
Aria rolled her eyes. "I've been around. I know an outsider when I see one. We don't get many. Most people fear our kingdom and the Queen." She chuckled. "Azmeer doesn't attract many travelers."
"You don't fear your Queen?"
"I respect those who have power. Everyone respects her."
"Fear and respect isn't the same thing." Bikkar added a few spices from small pouches and stirred the stew.
Once he'd begun his tinkering, Aria admitted, the aroma of the stew had changed from tangy to a delicious meaty one. Since he appeared to know what he was doing, she decided to let him do all the cooking from now on.
"One and the same to me," she replied. "A healthy dose of fear works wonders to instill some respect in the lower classes."
"You would rather be feared than respected?" he said.
"Damn right."
"Why do you swear so much?" He raised his eyebrows. "A lady should remember her position."
Aria snorted. "A lady? Do you see one around? Don't mistake me for a lady, old man, or that might be the last mistake you'll ever make."
"A tough one, are you?"
Aria lifted one shoulder. "I can take care of myself."
"And also of those whom you love," he said. "Like your brother?"
Picking up a blade of grass, Aria chewed on it. "He's all I have. So where are you from?"
"Bagdesh," he said. "It's a kingdom west of Azmeer, beyond the mountains of Tambur."
"And what're you doing here?"
"Searching."
Aria raised her eyebrows, but he went back to staring
into the stew. So he wanted to keep secrets. She shrugged. It mattered not to her. He was merely a means to an end. She would have no use for him once she was reunited with her brother. If he could keep secrets, so could she.
They lapsed into silence. Once the stew was ready, Aria ate three bowlfuls before her famished stomach was satisfied. "You're good," she said as Bikkar cleaned the pot with dried grass and placed it back in his pack. "I'm glad you volunteered for the cooking."
They slept out in the open, surrounded by tall grass and cocooned in their blankets. The two of them took turns to refuel the fire from the pile of dry sticks they had gathered near it. At dawn, after a hurried breakfast of day-old bread and cheese given to them by Shayla, they mounted the horses and rode onwards.
As Bikkar had predicted, they reached Akba on the evening of the third day. They made camp outside the city's walls because the gates were closed for the night.
Bikkar stood up after the meal and glanced carefully in all directions. This was a ritual he performed with regularity at different times of the day. Aria wondered what he was looking for. She asked him once but he brushed her off, saying that it was better to be on guard at all times.
This time she ignored him, and surveyed their surroundings.
Akba was a city she had visited before, close to seven years ago. At that time, she and Marcus were under the tutelage of the circus master who had taught them the rudiments of the thieving career they later embarked upon with great enthusiasm. Their brief visit to the city had left Aria impressed with its sprawling opulence.
Since then, Akba had changed. It seemed to have acquired a polish and grandeur. The city's massive wooden gates had been replaced with bronze gates that glinted in the light of the hundred lanterns that adorned the walls. The walls had been raised, and above the parapet Aria could see quarters for the guards who took turns to stand at attention all day and night long. Despite the greater height of the walls, she could make out the dome of the palace standing in the middle of the city atop a small hill. Lanterns on the dome made it glint in their yellow light. It was the highest structure of the city and the center of all attention, the seat of power for the Queen.
The Black Orb Page 2