The Lost Prince (legends of Ansu Book 3)

by J. W. Webb

  “What now, I said?”

  Yashan glanced up in Corin’s direction, his dark eyes troubled. Their guide shook his head, muttering something about foolishness. Corin had obviously missed out on a debate while he was struggling with Thunderhoof. His eyes narrowed when he caught Tamersane’s rueful expression.

  “What is it? What’s the bloody matter?” Tamersane shrugged and turned away. But Zallerak answered readily enough. The bard looked edgy—coiled for a fight.

  “Our time is short, Corin an Fol. The darkness musters against us already. Things have moved on in the game. I can feel it!”

  “Feel what?” Corin could happily skewer this wizard sometimes.

  “Tension. Eyes and spies. This entire desert is watched by our enemy. They know we are here.” Zallerak shook his head and rubbed his eyes as though suddenly weary. “The river Narion is no longer safe,” he added. “We cannot follow it to its source. That way will be guarded. Instead we must hasten due south flanking these sandy hills.”

  “But that is reckless folly, Sir Zallerak!” Yashan’s dark eyes glittered like coals and the guide’s voice was edged with anger. “That way lies only pitiless desert. No water, no shelter. And beyond that…” Yashan shook his head, unwilling to mention what followed. He changed tack.

  “If we follow the river to its source, as was agreed, we can cross the stony hills around its basin, make for the oasis of Isalyos. That’s only a few days’ ride from the Crystal Mountains—ideal for replenishing before your journey in the dark. That was our plan, Sir Zallerak.”

  “Plans change,” answered the bard, waving a dismissive arm. “That oasis like the Narion will be watched. Please keep up, Yashan. My mind is set. Our only chance of success lies in speed—hence we take the direct route. Due south.”

  “Southwest isn’t a good option either. I’d not think we’d make great speed traversing these dunes,” said Ulani, rubbing his stubbly beard. “That would deplete our water supplies more than the open desert.”

  “Well, we had better make up our minds soon,” grumbled Tamersane. “Or it will be too bloody hot to go anywhere!”

  Corin listened to the words of his companions with growing impatience. He noticed how Yashan’s voice appeared almost desperate that they follow his guidance. The tough desert warrior was clearly afraid of what Zallerak was suggesting. Corin didn’t doubt he had good cause. Yashan was no craven.

  Corin had had enough. He rounded on Zallerak.

  “What plagues you? You keep hinting about this and that but tell us nothing! I say we take Yashan’s advice and stop pissing around.” Corin’s mouth was dry and sore. Shouting wasn’t helping. He spat a gobbet of grit down whilst pouring a few clear drops of water into Thunderhoof’s gullet and then taking some himself. “Or if you know something we do not then may I suggest you come out with it!”

  Zallerak gave Corin a sharp look. Those huge eyes were filled with sudden rage. He looked about to explode but then Bleyne, who had been watching the riverbank behind them, gave a shout of warning.

  “Soldiers on the track behind! Over fifty I would guess. They are approaching with some speed!”

  “Guess that’s decided things for us then.” Corin awarded Zallerak a withering glance. “South it is.”

  Cursing their luck, the six led their horses out of sight below the nearest ridge. Tamersane watched over the beasts as the others climbed back to see just who it was approaching in such haste from the north.

  As Corin watched he saw the riders canter towards them, kicking up great columns of dust in their wake. They were still some distance away but the peculiar desert light aided his vision. He saw many horsemen in an ordered line, all carrying spears sloped across their shoulders, their steel shirts glinting beneath crimson cloaks. Beside him he heard Yashan curse.

  “There gallops the cream of Sedinadola!” The tribesman spat in the direction of the riders. “The sultan’s eyes are on the desert. Zallerak is right, our presence here has been reported. I imagine our encounter with Sulimo might have something to do with it. It could be the rogue knew more than he gave out.

  “Or else it was that bastard Hagan,” Corin growled. “I should have slit his throat.”

  “Certainly it’s us they’re after,” said Yashan. “Why else would the Crimson journey so far from their sordid brothels on the coast?” Yashan’s dark face was filled with contempt. The Crimson Guard was loathed by the tribes of Permio. “Even so our faring south is folly, trust me, I know this.”

  Corin turned to Yashan, who looked increasingly miserable.

  “What is it, Yashan? What do you fear down there?” Corin asked, dropping to his belly as the soldiers drew near. Instead of answering Yashan studied the horsemen counting their numbers and nodding slowly to Bleyne.

  “You have keen eyes, sir archer,” he said. “There ride fifty of the sultan’s finest. See the gold trimmings on those crimson cloaks and trousers. Only the elite of Sedinadola may sport such garments. They are of the costliest cloth.”

  “But where is their destination?” enquired Bleyne fingering a grey-fletched arrow and watching the last horsemen pass below them. Corin noticed that the archer had an almost disappointed glint in his dark eyes, and, as often before, he wondered what went on behind that taciturn face.

  They watched for several moments more, until at last the riders faded from view beneath the shimmering heat of the sun. Yashan was the first to rise. Grim-faced, the tribesman re-joined Tamersane, who recovered his steed and called out stiffly.

  “You had better start out over the dunes,” he told them. “Keep short of the ridges lest any more Crimson are close. I will see to our water supply.” Yashan snatched a gourd from each of them and, after taking to saddle, rode down to the river whilst keeping a wary eye on the road ahead. Corin watched him go.

  “What is it that scares so stalwart a man?” he muttered, shaking his head at their guide’s edgy behaviour. Zallerak glanced knowingly at him but said nothing. Instead the bard turned and led his horse towards the next great ridge of sand.

  You’re a conniving bastard, wizard. Corin looped a hand around Thunder’s rein.

  “Come on, big lad—no antics now. I’m not enjoying this either.” Corin was about to lead Thunder on when Ulani placed a huge knuckled hand on his shoulder.

  “Think not harshly about the guide, he is a brave man,” Ulani told him. “But some things test a man’s courage to its brink. Yashan knows what lies beyond these dunes. His desert heart, though stout, misgives him. He is filled with trepidation. I know too, and the knowledge delivers small joy.”

  “The Ty-Tander?” Corin’s blue/grey gaze pierced the other’s warm brown sparkle.

  “The very same,” answered Ulani. “So his fame has reached the wild north country.”

  “No, I heard the name mentioned at Silon’s council. Some kind of beast, I assume.”

  “That and more. Much more. The folk of this desert are a tough people, Corin. But they are also superstitious. I doubt Yashan will accompany us for much longer.”

  “Perhaps he is wise not to.”

  “There is that.”

  Corin gripped the reins and patted Thunderhoof’s neck before urging him forward in Zallerak’s direction. Thunder complied readily enough; Corin was grateful to the beast, Thunder obviously realised how tricky things had become. Ulani led his horse alongside. As they struggled through the soft sand the king told him what he knew of this fabled creature.

  “The Ty-Tandii, or guardians of the crystal, were many once. But legend says that one by one they devoured each other until only the strongest, youngest of them remained.

  “What were they—cannibal goblin-monsters?”

  “Worse by far, and bigger.”

  “Giant cannibal goblins? Am I missing something important?” Tamersane had joined them with his own beast in tow, together they flanked the west ridge of the nearest dune.

  “Even worse—this creature farts fire.” Ulani made a roaring sound.


  “Impressive,” said Tamersane. After looking around Ulani continued in a quiet voice.

  “That was so long ago nothing is known for certain. But rumours abound of this last ferocious beast of legend. Stories of his belching flame and horny hide have even reached us in distant Yamondo. It is said he cannot be slain, but neither can he escape from his prison amidst the Copper Desert.”

  “And guess where that is?” Ulani flashed them a grin.

  “Due south beyond these dunes.” Corin saw Yashan approaching.

  “You have it.”

  “Why was it imprisoned?” Corin pulled his grey hood down to protect his face from the blazing glare. He nodded thanks when Yashan tossed him a full gourd. When their guide heard the subject of their discussion his eyes narrowed. Yashan awarded the three an unfriendly glance and led his horse forward to join Bleyne and Zallerak, who were already cresting another rise ahead. Corin watched Yashan for a moment before tuning back in to Ulani’s words

  “As I said, the Ty-Tandii were guardians. Fashioned from fire made by Croagon the Smith: hewn from the very essence of earth crystal.

  “But Croagon was tricked by his siblings. Those other deities were envious of His skill. It was Telcanna Himself who turned the creatures against Croagon. The Sky God was jealous, you see. Telcanna bid the Ty-Tandii form a ring of flame, trapping both the Smith and His great treasures under the mountains. Just because Croagon wouldn’t share His craft.

  “The Ty-Tandii ringed the entire Crystal Mountains at that time. Their fires kept Croagon holed up inside His forge. For though Croagon could craft things out of fire, He couldn’t withstand it when raised against Him.”

  “These meddling gods have got a lot to answer for,” Corin said. “This Telcanna sounds like a total twat.”

  “You are right, but such things are better unsaid. Telcanna has ears in the desert, Corin an Fol.”

  “I’m used to being plagued by immortals, one more won’t make much difference.” The other two stared at him quizzically. Corin shrugged. “Pray continue, we’re captivated, Ulani. Aren’t we, Tamersane?”

  “Absolutely. But we had better speed up,, the other three are leaving us behind.”

  They closed the gap. Both riders and horses were getting used to the dunes, it was hard work but they were making progress. As for Thunderhoof—he seemed quite happy listening in to Ulani’s tale.

  “Then much later the Golden Folk arrived in their glass chariots,” Ulani continued. “The Aralais were at the height of their power before the thousand year war against their dark kin. The Golden’s cunning spellcraft fooled the guardians into letting them pass beneath the mountains.

  “Hence they were able to plunder the mountains’ crystal and cajole Croagon into crafting thirteen magical talismans. These they needed for their planned war with the Urgolais. The Crown of Kings was one such artefact, the sword Callanak, another. Rumour speaks of an enchanted bow hidden somewhere in my own country—a matter dear to my heart. Come on!”

  Ulani led his horse over another sinking crest of sand, whilst Corin egged Thunderhoof on beside him. Corin wondered how it was this king from so far away owned such depth of knowledge. Corin berated his ignorance of the wonders of Ansu and listened intently as Ulani continued his tale.

  “Croagon resented having been made to do the Aralais’s bidding—to serve the needs of lesser beings. So He sought provocation against the Golden Ones.

  “The Smith put his case to His higher kin. They were empathic. The High Gods run a select club. They might despise each other but They’re not open to new members. How dare these newcomers tramp on Their territory? Even Telcanna—who loves bright things—resented the beauty of the Golden Folk’s creations.

  “With His kin’s permission, Croagon was freed to work the crystal forge again. Telcanna even aided Him—together the two gods fashioned a new improved Ty-Tander. A creature wrought from purest crystal, far stronger than the others made earlier.

  “All Croagon’s malice and Telcanna’s resentment went into their new creation. They say that it was the Sky God Himself that breathed life into the beast. His purpose, to drive the Aralais imposters from the Crystal Mountains where many now lived in affluence and comfort.

  “But the Smith was not content with their evacuation; Croagon was vengeful and bid the creature rend the Aralais marauders limb from limb. And so a great slaughter commenced outside the mountains. It turned the region known now as the Copper Desert into a sea of blood—hence the name.”

  “Can’t say I look forward to seeing it,” said Tamersane.

  “When he had consumed the impostors,” continued Ulani, “this new Ty-Tander turned on his own kind, devouring them all. The monster grew even more terrible as his hunger waxed. Finally he assaulted the mountain, turned on his part creator and once again Croagon was trapped at His forge, and again His kin ignored Their younger brother’s plight.

  “The knowledge that he was betrayed a second time and a prisoner again drove Croagon mad. He tore his eyes from their sockets in uttermost despair.” Ulani scratched his beard thoughtfully before continuing.

  “We in Yamondo heard that eventually even the other High Gods became afraid of Their brothers’ latest creation. Telcanna was pressured into contriving an invisible cordon of power around the Copper Desert, trapping the Ty-Tander within. There the creature remains contained to this day.”

  “That must be one hungry beastie,” said Tamersane.

  “Aye,” nodded Ulani, “that he is. Hungry and vicious. We in Yamondo know well to stay clear of the Crystal Mountains and their guardian!”

  “Had we a lick of sense we would do the same,” muttered Corin. “But why accompany us, Ulani? I doubt those soldiers would trouble you; the sultan has no quarrel with your country. Or does he?” Corin studied Ulani’s face; the king was heavy set with blunt nose and square jaw. His close-cropped greying beard hinted he’d seen well over forty winters. Alone among the companions the king seemed entirely at ease with his surroundings.

  Ulani grinned at Corin. “I have no quarrel with Samadin.”

  “Who’s that?” Tamersane enquired.

  “The sultan, you idiot,” said Corin.

  “Oh.”

  “But I would fain get a look at this Ty-Tander close up, maybe find a soft spot to put an arrow in his crystal hide. Hunting such a beast would prove an opportunity of a lifetime.” Corin and Tamersane exchanged horrified glances.

  “I thought you said it was unkillable.” Tamersane was cursing his horse as the beast was slipping back in the sand. “I mean if it gobbled up half the Aralais we’d scarcely make a snack.”

  “So legend says,” replied Ulani. “But then I never dwell too much on hearsay.”

  “And you said your people avoid that region.” Tamersane scratched his ear.

  “Yes, but I am myself and not my people.”

  “You’re as bad as Barin,” laughed Corin.

  “Who is Barin?” asked Ulani.

  “A great farting hairy lout from the north country. Your size, King Ulani, mayhap a touch taller and broader in the chest.”

  “Pah! I would like to meet this Barin,” scoffed Ulani. “I’ll challenge him to an arm wrestle. Where does he hail from exactly?”

  “The far north,” responded Corin, “an island full of ice and cold. You wouldn’t like it there. Ride on!”

  Chapter 24

  Doubts and Delusions

  On the second day after leaving the Narion the High Dunes levelled out. The ridges became less steep and there were broad level gaps between each, allowing the riders to mount. A welcome change after what seemed an age dragging and pulling their horses. At last they could make fair progress. They kept it slow at first, the sand was still soft and the horses needed to time to adjust. But it felt good to be mounted again.

  They formed single file, Corin at the back with Yashan leading and Zallerak close behind. Next rode Bleyne, Tamersane and Ulani just a few paces in front of Corin.

&
nbsp; Corin dozed in the saddle. The heat was oppressive and he hadn’t slept well last night. His mind churned with nagging doubts and worries. He didn’t want to be here. Added to that, Corin was convinced Zallerak was up to something. And after hearing Ulani’s account of what lay south, it seemed to Corin they were courting disaster. He closed his eyes, allowing Thunder make his own way.

  Easy, boy—you look after me and I’ll look after you.

  Time dragged. Days passed hot and relentless. The mood of the travellers blackened, even Tamersane was dour. The annoyingly cheerful Kelwynian now wore a constant long face.

  Zallerak muttered and chewed his lip, while Yashan grew grimmer by the hour. Bleyne stayed hawk-alert but his mouth was set in resolution.

  Ulani held cheerful but kept his thoughts to himself. Corin brooded and muttered expletives to Thunder. They were getting through their water supplies, the horses drinking most.

  Corin sipped his gourd as he willed Thunderhoof ahead. He prayed to Elanion the sun move swifter, let night’s cool release arrive to grant them rest.

  It was telling on the horses, and Corin was becoming concerned for their plight. He regretted that they hadn’t asked Hulm for some camels whilst they had the chance. An oversight, that. Thunderhoof remained hale but mournful, but some of the other steeds looked worn out. Yashan steered close and muttered in his ear.

  “We’d be better served by camels, these horses are failing. Had I known our course would change I’d have purchased some in Agmandeur. Too late now.”

  Corin shrugged, wondering if Yashan had read his mind. “They’ll be all right so long as they get good rest tonight. It’s the water concerns me most.”

  “Me too,” growled Yashan before urging his beast ahead.

  At dusk they made a hasty camp. Yashan lit a small cheerless fire out of some twiggy logs he had brought with him from those last bushes by the river’s edge. As evening deepened the temperature dropped dramatically.