The Treasured One

by David Eddings

  Of course, the design of the Seagull also played a part in Sorgan’s personality. In many ways the Seagull was much like her namesake, swift, graceful—and usually hungry.

  The Maags were polite enough not to dash off and leave the broad-beamed Trogite vessels wallowing far behind, and Sorgan stayed well within hailing distance as the fleet moved south along the west coast of Lady Zelana’s Domain. At Veltan’s request, his rather scruffy little fishing sloop was attached to one of the Trogite ships by a long rope. Veltan seemed quite fond of that sloop for some reason, and Sorgan had definitely approved of bringing it along. “We’ll be moving into strange waters, Narasan,” he’d explained, “and that little tub can do the sounding for us anytime we get close to a shoreline.”

  “Sounding?” Narasan had asked, just a bit puzzled.

  “Check the depth of the water—or locate any reefs or hidden boulders. A ship that’s just had her bottom ripped out won’t stay afloat for very long, and I haven’t learned how to walk on water yet.”

  The coast of Lady Zelana’s Domain was heavily forested by huge trees that filled Narasan with awe. The forest in the lower reaches of the ravine had been clogged with dense brush, but out here on the coast the huge trees had evidently smothered out the bushes with a perpetual drizzle of falling needles, and they stood in solitary splendor, almost like some vast green temple. The air here along the coast was humid, of course, and the rays of the early summer sun slanted down among the columnlike trees like shafts of gold. Narasan felt a strange sense of regret when the forest gave way to the farmland of Veltan’s Domain.

  Then, a few days after they’d set out, the mellow sound of a horn came from the Seagull, and Sorgan’s longship pulled in closer. “Ho, Narasan!” Sorgan bellowed.

  “Is something amiss?” Narasan called back.

  “Not that I know about. Lady Zelana wanted me to let you know that we’ll be turning east before long—maybe sometime tomorrow. We’ll go on around the southern end of her brother’s country and then swing north. His house is on up the east coast a ways. From what she tells me, we’re a week or ten days out yet.”

  They rounded the lower end of a sizeable peninsula about midmorning the next day, and Gunda came back from the bow of the ship with his cousin, Captain Pantal. “If you look off to the right, you’ll see that island called Arash, Narasan,” Gunda advised. “Maybe it might not be a bad idea for me to go on over to another ship and sail down through that channel to Castano and tell Andar to bring the main part of our army on up here. That way we’ll be ready just in case the war starts sooner than we expect it to.”

  “That’s not a bad idea, Gunda,” Narasan agreed. “I’ll talk with Sorgan and let him know that you’re not just running away.”

  Gunda gave him a hard look, but he didn’t say anything.

  The Seagull drew closer in response to a brassy note from a standard Trogite trumpet. It occurred to Narasan that the horns of the Maags had a much more mellow sound to them. For some reason the sound of trumpets had always irritated Narasan.

  Sorgan was standing at the rail as the Seagull came in closer. “Problems, Narasan?” he called.

  “Not that I’ve noticed so far,” Narasan replied. “Of course it’s still early, so there’s plenty of time left for today to turn sour on us.”

  “Why do you always look on the dark side, Narasan?”

  “It’s a failing of mine. We’re fairly close to the channel that leads down through the ice zone to the north coast of the Empire. Gunda’s going to sail on down there and gather up the rest of the army and bring them on up here.”

  “That’s not a bad idea, Narasan. It’ll save some time, and we’ll be ready if the snake-men try to sneak up on us again.”

  “And you accuse me of being gloomy.”

  “Always look on the dark side, Narasan. Then if things turn out all right, it’s a pleasant surprise.”

  They sailed on past two more of those protruding peninsulas on the south coast of the Land of Dhrall, and then the mixed fleet turned north to sail along behind the Seagull as Lady Zelana guided Sorgan toward the home of her younger brother.

  The land along that eastern coast was much more flat than the western coast, and Narasan observed that the farmers of Veltan’s domain had vast fields of grain stretching inland for as far as the eye could reach. Veltan hadn’t gone into much detail when he’d described his Domain, but Narasan was quite certain that the class distinctions prevalent in the Empire simply did not exist here. The scrawny former priest Jalkan stubbornly refused to even consider that possibility, and his perpetual sneer irritated Narasan so much that he began to search for any possible excuse to dismiss the scoundrel and send him packing.

  As they sailed along the coast, Sorgan Hook-Beak prudently sent Veltan’s fishing sloop on ahead of the Seagull to test the waters for obstructions. Narasan smiled faintly. Sorgan quite obviously loved the Seagull, and he’d go to any lengths to protect her. In a peculiar sort of way, the Seagull was the equivalent of Sorgan’s wife, and he’d sooner die than put her in any kind of danger.

  They moved slowly on up the east coast for the next few days, and then about midmorning on the third day, the sloop turned sharply to the left and led them on toward the beach. Narasan shaded his eyes and saw Veltan and some others waiting.

  Captain Pantal dropped anchor a short distance from the beach, and Narasan, Jalkan, and Padan took a small skiff the rest of the way in. Narasan noted that Sorgan was also in a skiff, along with Ox, Ham-Hand, Zelana, and the two children, but he seemed to be holding back just bit—obviously out of courtesy. That surprised Narasan a little. The notion of courtesy in a Maag seemed like a contradiction in terms.

  Keselo and the others had already joined Veltan, and Keselo was talking with a serious-faced native who was holding a somewhat makeshift spear.

  Keselo seemed to be quite impressed by the native’s creativity, and he suggested a rather interesting possibility. If the clever little smith called Rabbit could provide all the natives with spear-points and shields, they could be trained to some degree to use the phalanx formation. They probably wouldn’t be first-rate soldiers to begin with, but it wasn’t as if the creatures of the Wasteland were tactical geniuses. Even if the natives were only partially trained, they could be very useful in the upcoming war. “Do you think you could train them, Keselo?” Narasan asked the young officer.

  “I’d be willing to give it a try, sir,” Keselo replied.

  “Do it then, and keep me advised.”

  “Yes, sir!” Keselo replied with a smart salute.

  After Sorgan and his friends came ashore, Veltan led them all along a well-traveled path that led inland.

  When Narasan saw Veltan’s single-rock castle, it confirmed something he had suspected from the moment the two of them had first met. Veltan—and his brother and sisters as well—might look as if they were human, but it was quite obvious now that they’d gone so far past human that the term was almost laughable. Veltan’s somewhat self-effacing manner had concealed some stunning realities, but the huge house brought reality out into the open with no possible way to deny it. The baffling part of what was now right out in the open was why a being with such unlimited power had come to imperial Kaldacin to hire an army to deal with a subhuman enemy. Narasan was fairly certain that Veltan—or his sister—could have obliterated the creatures of the Wasteland with a single thought. “We’ve got a very strange situation here,” he muttered to himself.

  Veltan led them to what he referred to as his “map-room,” and Narasan immediately saw that it was a combination of the war-room in the army compound back in Kaldacin and Red-Beard’s sculpted map in Zelana’s cave in Lattash. The addition of the balcony surrounding the miniaturized replica of the probable battlefield gave them the ability to see the entirety of the region in much greater detail than Narasan had ever previously encountered. The terrain in the vicinity of the waterfall was intimidating, but Narasan immediately saw that if they could reach the
area around the geyser that was the source of that waterfall, they’d be able to hold off their enemy almost indefinitely with only minimal help from the local farmers. The important thing, of course, would be to get there first.

  Then the stunningly beautiful wife of the farmer Omago came through the door to advise them that their supper was ready, and Veltan, with a note of pride in his voice, told them that the beautiful lady was quite probably the best cook in the world.

  Then the scrawny half-wit Jalkan made some obscene remarks that quite nearly sent Narasan into total collapse. Fortunately, the lady’s solidly built husband took steps before Veltan could raise his hand and obliterate Narasan’s entire army. Narasan found himself wishing that Omago had gone just a bit further, however. Omago did have that spear in his other hand, and he’d just wasted a wonderful opportunity to rid Narasan’s army of a growing embarrassment.

  Jalkan came up screaming, spitting blood, and jerking at the hilt of his sheathed dagger, but Keselo stopped the idiot dead in his tracks with a highly appropriate threat to kill him right there on the spot.

  Narasan fervently hoped that Jalkan would make yet another blunder so that Keselo could go even further.

  Unfortunately, Jalkan—as usual—failed.

  As Narasan regained control of his temper, however, he realized that this embarrassing incident had been exactly what he’d been hoping for.

  Jalkan was spluttering and screaming about his rank as an officer in Narasan’s army, but Narasan abruptly—and publicly—revoked that commission and ordered Padan to chain the fool and take him back to the beach. Then, in what he felt to be an extremely appropriate public gesture, he offered the lady’s husband the opportunity to deal with Jalkan personally—with spear, if he wished.

  Omago seemed to be tempted, but he rather reluctantly declined.

  Narasan was terribly disappointed, but in good time he’d come up with an appropriate punishment that would convince Veltan that he’d hired the right army.

  Narasan and Sorgan spent much of their time in the map-room for the next few days. The river that ran down to the sea from the foot of the waterfall was quite some distance to the north of Veltan’s house, so it was fairly obvious that sailing up to the river-mouth would be the best course of action, since, even as had been the case in the previous war, there was only one possible invasion route their enemies could follow.

  “We’ve got to get people up there in a hurry, Narasan,” Sorgan said quite firmly. “Whoever gets there first is going to have an enormous advantage.”

  “I can see that, old friend,” Narasan agreed.

  “Old?” Sorgan protested.

  “Sorry. Just a figure of speech.” Narasan frowned. “I think we’d better have a chat with Veltan’s friend—the fellow who specializes in knocking out the teeth of those who insult his wife.”

  “You should have killed that fool right there on the spot, Narasan.”

  “And get blood all over this map? Don’t be silly, Hook-Beak. I’ll deal with Jalkan all in good time. I’m busy right now. I’ve noticed that Rabbit and Keselo seem to be getting along quite well with the farmer who gave Jalkan a lesson in good manners.”

  “I think the three of them might just be the same breed of cat,” Sorgan agreed. “They all keep coming up with new ideas. You did know that your man Keselo’s teaching Omago and the other farmers how to form up to make their spears more effective, didn’t you?”

  Narasan nodded. “He told me that he’s been teaching them the rudiments of the phalanx formation. If Keselo has enough time to polish them, they’ll probably turn out to be quite useful during the upcoming war.”

  “I’ll take all the help I can get,” Sorgan agreed.

  “Don’t feel alone. Right now, though, we’re going to need a guide to show our advance force how to get past that waterfall without getting washed back out to sea. They need to spend their time building forts, not practicing their swimming.”

  The two strangers Veltan led into the map-room the following morning were a peculiar-looking pair. Prince Ekial was fairly tall, and his face had obviously sustained some fairly serious wounds at some time in the past. The armed and obviously dangerous warrior queen called Trenicia was not the sort of person anyone with good sense would offend. The warrior queen was not quite as tall as Sorgan, but she came close. There were a few ancient myths in some of the more rural regions of the Empire about women warriors, and until now Narasan had never given them much credence, but Trenicia washed his doubts away just by her presence. Veltan advised Narasan and Sorgan that Prince Ekial and Queen Trenicia were here as “observers,” largely because at some day in the not too distant future they’d be fighting the creatures of the Wasteland in different regions in the Land of Dhrall.

  At supper that evening when they were all feasting on the wonderful meal Omago’s wife had prepared, Sorgan raised the issue of bringing Longbow’s archers to join them in the on-going war with the creatures of the Wasteland, but Longbow dismissed the notion of coming by ship almost before it even came up. He’d obviously been measuring distances in the map-room, and he rather casually advised Narasan and Sorgan that the archers could come across country in about half the time it’d take if they came by sea.

  The next morning Narasan and Sorgan were in the map-room closely examining the region around the waterfall. “I don’t see any possible way for us to get up there, Narasan,” Sorgan admitted. “That’s a straight rock wall with tons of water coming down from up above.”

  “I can see that, Sorgan,” Narasan agreed, “and that cliff doesn’t seem to have any breaks anywhere near the falls. I suppose we could build a ramp, but that’d probably take us most of the summer.”

  Veltan’s friend Omago came through the doorway and joined them.

  “You’re just the man we needed to talk to, Omago,” Sorgan said. “Are you at all familiar with the region around this blasted waterfall?”

  “Not really, but I’ve sent word to Nanton. He’s a shepherd, and he grazes his flock up there, so he probably knows every tree and bush in the area by its first name. I’ve asked him to meet your ships at the mouth of the river and then guide you up to the pastureland above the falls.”

  “You’re way ahead of us, Omago,” Narasan noted. “We’d more or less agreed that we should send a sizeable number of our men up there to build some fortifications to hold our enemy back until we could get our main force up there, but Veltan’s map doesn’t show any route those men could follow.”

  “The map’s fairly accurate,” Omago agreed, “but when sheep are looking for grass, they’ll find a way to reach it, and anywhere Nanton’s sheep go, he’ll go too. The paths you’ll follow will be steep and narrow, but if sheep can make it to the top, so can your men.”

  Sorgan squinted. “Skell, I think,” he said.

  “Run that past me again, Sorgan,” Narasan said. “It went by a little fast.”

  “I think maybe we should send Skell on up there with Omago’s shepherd friend to look things over. Skell knows exactly what to look for, and he’ll be able to pinpoint the best spots for our forts, and that could save us a lot of time. Then too, if the snake-men are already up there, Skell’s slippery enough to sneak past them and get on back down here to warn us.”

  “I’m sure Veltan would have warned us if the enemy force is already up there, Sorgan,” Narasan told his friend. “You worry too much. I think I’ll send Padan along with Skell. Padan can put down markers that’ll show my troops the way to get up there. Sorgan, my friend, this might just turn out to be an easier war than we’d anticipated.”

  “I’ve always been sort of fond of easy wars, Narasan. As far as I’ve been able to determine, they’re the best kind there ever is.”

  6

  Two Maag ships sailed north at sunrise the following morning carrying at most a couple of hundred Maags. Narasan thought that might be just a little light, but Skell seemed to think it was all he really wanted.

  “When you get right dow
n to it, Narasan, all that Skell’s really doing is marking the trail for us so that we’ll know how to get up there,” Sorgan told him. “He’ll send out scouting parties to find suitable locations for forts but that’s about as far as we need him to go. We’ll only be a few days behind him, so it’s not like he’ll be alone up there for six months or so.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” Narasan conceded.

  “You’re a worrier, Narasan, did you know that?”

  Narasan smiled slightly. “Occupational hazard, I suppose,” he conceded. “Over the years I’ve come to realize that if anything at all can possibly go wrong, it probably will.”

  “Skell’s got a couple of things working for him that’ll give him an edge if something does go wrong.”

  “Oh?”

  “They’re called Longbow and Red-Beard. I don’t think either one of us would like to come against those two. Sometimes Longbow sends chills up my back. Every time I turn around, he’s at least three jumps ahead of me.”

  “Did anybody remember to tell Lady Zelana that those two are going along with Skell?”

  “Why don’t we let Veltan take care of that?” Sorgan suggested with a sly smirk.

  “What a wonderful idea, Sorgan,” Narasan replied with no hint of a smile.

  “What do you think, Narasan? Do we want to take those farmers with us? They’re not really very good, you know.”

  “Maybe we should,” Narasan replied. “I’m fairly sure that Veltan wants us to get them involved, and he’s the one who’s paying us. Keselo’s been training them, and he tells me that they’re getting better. They were a bit awkward right at first, but they seem to be improving. This is their homeland, after all, and they won’t really inconvenience us too much.”