“Ah, Lady Dearra. It truly does my heart good to hear that I have your word?”
“You’ll forgive me, Lord Falco, if I find it hard to believe you even have a heart, let alone that there is anything good about it, but yes, you have my word.”
Falco let out a bray of genuine laughter and clapped his hands briskly together. “Excellent! My man is ready now. You may leave immediately.”
At the commanding clap of Lord Falco, the curtain on the left was swept aside.
Brin’s voice invaded Dearra’s thoughts once more to say a single word, which was more of a demand than a plea. “Peace!” he said.
A second flash of confusion flickered across the face of Lord Falco, but Dearra saw nothing but the cocky, smiling face of the chosen negotiator.
Jacob sauntered forward, basking in the horrified expression of the women before him. “Shall we go?” was all he said. As he turned to stroll from the hall, his cruel laughter echoed off the stone walls driving an arrow straight through Dearra’s heart.
Chapter 33
Derek, one of the Maj sailors, had fallen ill with an abscessed tooth. Though the other men chided him for his weakness, it was eventually obvious to them that he truly did suffer. Taylor, another sailor, removed the tooth on the second day, which allowed the infection to drain a bit, and seemed to alleviate some of the pain, but by early on the third morning his face had transformed into a red, swollen, mask of misery.
The men searched through Dearra’s medical bag in her quarters, but they were unfamiliar with most of what they found. Garlic and mint could both be used to fight infection, and they had such distinct aromas that they’d be easy to identify, but Dearra might have mixed them with something more dangerous. Guessing which elixir might help was too risky a proposition, so Taylor decided to gather a few men and chance a journey to shore for the remedy they needed. Surely a city the size of Bandar would have several skilled apothecaries that would be only too happy to offer assistance, for the right amount of silver, of course.
Taylor brought the boat in close enough to port to make a quick run for the medicine they needed, but he had approached while it was still dark and hidden the boat in a small cove to give it some protection from prying eyes. He was taking a gamble, strictly against Hugh’s instructions, but one of the crewmen was ill, and there really was nothing else that could be done.
***
It had been a cold cramped night, waiting hidden in the boat’s bow, but Royce knew he stood no chance of stealing away with them once day came, especially with the giant, white wolf by his side. His father would be displeased, of course, but it would be worth the tanning he would receive to be free of the bobbing ship and to see the sites of Bandar. He had left a note where it would be found so the men would know where he had gone. Not that they would be likely to notice—the absence of one little boy was probably more likely to be enjoyed rather than questioned, at least for the time being.
When he was sure it was clear, Royce gradually slid the tarp away from his face and took a deep breath, only to wish he hadn’t when Bandar’s pungent smells assaulted his senses. Reo squirmed beneath him. The wolf was probably as anxious to be out of the boat as was he, Royce surmised. He slung a leg over the side of the boat, and his foot splashed in the shallow water near the gravelly shore. Reo bounded happily behind him. He took a moment to re-arrange the tarp, placing it back the way it was before so no one would suspect he’d ever been there.
Royce knew he didn’t have much time before the crew would return, so he moved speedily away from the small craft, his feet slapping the water noisily as he ran. It would have been easier to run on the shore, but he was smart enough to hide evidence of his passing. Taylor wasn’t the brightest of men, but even he might question foot and paw prints leading away from the beached craft. He didn’t really have far to go.
Some distance away from the boat, Royce stepped out of the water and climbed a rocky embankment by grasping at the meager vegetation along the edge. He pulled himself up enough to peer at the city that lay sprawled before him. There were tents and buildings and people and noise and filth and activity for as far as the eye could see. Suddenly, the prospect of trying to find his father didn’t seem like such a great idea. Royce feared he might be swallowed up whole if he dared wade in amidst the chaos. His heart pounded in his chest as he took the sight in. How long he lay there, he could not be sure, he was that overwhelmed by the sights and sounds of the city.
At last, common sense prevailed, and he slid back down the slope, running as fast as his legs could carry him back to the boat. Maybe, if he were lucky, he would be able to sneak back into his hiding space with no one the wiser. If it meant another cold night in hiding until they could slip free again, so be it. His strategy grew clearer in his mind the further his feet raced on. Soon his steps slowed, and then stopped altogether.
The waves gently lapped at the shoreline, obliterating any marks that might have been left in the sand, but the tide had not turned enough yet to completely erase the deep groove where their boat had once sat. Royce spun to scan the horizon, praying he would see Taylor scowling at him only a few yards from shore, but there was no sight of them.
Realization set in. They had returned to the ship. They had left him behind.
Royce sank to the gravely beach and simply stared, hoping for a miracle that would not come. Reo sat beside him, and batted at the boy with a massive paw. Royce looped his arms around the wolf’s neck and leaned in to take comfort from his presence.
“Well, boy,” Royce said, a slight waiver in his voice, “I guess we’re in for it now.”
Royce turned back towards Bandar, squared his shoulders, and took a tentative though resigned step.
Chapter 34
If the ride to the Breken city had been unpleasant, the ride back was proving intolerable. Jacob’s presence was like a raw wound to the group. Even Khan struggled with the situation. Dearra had ordered Jacob to ride in front of her, where she could keep an eye on him, but allowing another horse to take lead and set the pace was proving to be a challenge for the mighty stallion. No matter how much Carly tried to soothe and comfort his wounded pride, he would break into a canter and prance ahead of the offending animal to regain the lead, whereupon Dearra would bark at Jacob to get back to the front once more. Jacob would snicker under his breath, annoying Dearra further, and spur his horse forward, while Carly patted and whispered to Khan, only to repeat the whole cycle a few minutes later. To the onlooker, it must’ve looked like a strange game of tag, indeed.
From where Daniel and Darius were hiding amongst the stone formations, some three hundred yards distant, it was unclear what was happening, but what was evident was that Carly and Dearra were no longer alone. The fact that the women had emerged from the deadly city was a relief, but until the identity of the man in front could be ascertained, the relief would have to be guarded. Without a word to one another, Darius and Daniel mounted their horses and began to follow. They would need to get close, a difficult task as there was precious little cover to hide them on their way, but there was nothing they could do about it.
“What does Brin say, Darius?” Daniel asked.
“Nothing. He won’t answer.”
“What do you mean he won’t answer?” Daniel said. The volume of his voice rose slightly with his degree of concern. “Is there something preventing him? Is he even there? Maybe something’s happened!”
Darius grimaced, hoping the sound of Daniel’s voice wouldn’t draw attention to them. “No, he’s there,” he said. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I can tell he’s there. He just won’t answer me.”
“Sword’s a nuisance if you ask me. Can’t get it to shut up when you want him to be silent, and then when you want to get something out of him? Forget it!”
“What do you want me to say?” Darius chided. “I can’t make him speak. Our options here are pretty limited: we can follow as we have been and wait until we get back to Bandar to discover the man
’s identity, or we can make our presence known now.”
“That thought sounds as if it could cause us some problems later,” Daniel said trying to exercise caution. “They aren’t likely to be pleased with our presence. Carly’s been a little…unpredictable lately.”
“That’s a bit of a different story. I mean, if you’re afraid…” Darius let the accusation hang between them.
“Like you’re not?” Daniel accused. “This has nothing to do with being afraid,” he continued, defending himself. “I just don’t think it’s necessary to let them know we didn’t think they could handle this on their own. I mean, they do have their pride, and—”
Darius yanked hard on his horse’s reins and held a hand up to silence his friend. A low rumble, like distant thunder, reached their ears. Daniel saw puffs of sand whipped into miniature dust devils some small distance behind Khan’s prancing hooves. There was a noticeable ripple in the sand, large enough to be seen, even from this distance, and though he had no idea what had caused the phenomenon before him, it didn’t take long to realize that whatever it was, it wasn’t good. Darius leaned forward and fiercely dug his heels into the sides of his mount, and Daniel followed suit.
***
Neither Dearra nor Carly noticed the rippling sand. Dearra was too busy struggling to keep her seat, while Carly focused on her fight to retain control over the headstrong stallion. Just as the waves were almost upon them, Khan tossed his head and sprinted forward, overtaking Jacob. Once more, Carly wrestled with him, letting a low oath escape her dainty lips as she fought to bring him back under her control.
This time, Jacob could not contain his laughter, which only served to aggravate the situation further. Dearra turned her head to tell Jacob, very politely, to please shut up, but her words stuck in her throat when she saw the two riders closing on them quickly. It took a moment for her mind to realize the riders were Daniel and Darius, and to read the look of terror and fierce determination on Darius’s face.
Ignorant of the other riders, Jacob continued to laugh until he was thrown from his horse when a serpent of immense proportions burst suddenly from the sand beneath him. He landed some fifteen feet away with a muffled thud. The scream that erupted from his horse was mercifully cut short as the deadly sand serpent took it in its mouth and burrowed its body beneath the shifting sands with its prize.
Carly turned toward the horse’s cry and had only a fraction of a second to take in what was happening.
It was at that point Brin had found his voice again; Dearra heard his prayer to Tolah echoing in her mind. Darius was not so quiet, on the other hand. Dearra heard him quite clearly as he continued to close the distance. His cries of “Run!” hardly seemed necessary though, as the sand had once again began to simmer around them as if boiling, and small dust devils whipped once more on the surface.
Carly was getting ready to spin Khan away when Jacob’s cry for help caught her attention. “Damn it!” she said under her breath, and swung back around, charging toward the frightened man. Dearra held an arm out to him and gripped Khan’s sides tightly with her legs as she braced for Jacob’s added weight.
Jacob grabbed on to Dearra’s arm, and, with some difficulty, hauled himself atop Khan’s lofty back. He barely had time to settle in behind Dearra, before Carly urged the horse onward.
“Carly!” Darius said, his voice more in control now, sounding hard, demanding, and Breken. “Make your way to that area there!”
“Where those scrub weeds are?” Carly yelled back, not sure if she was looking in the right place. “What good will that—?”
His voice boomed. “Just go!” To Daniel, he said, “Follow them! Stay tight to them!” Darius yanked hard on his reins and his horse screamed out in protest, tossed his mighty head, and reared on hind hooves.
Darius turned to face the monster that pursued them. “Darius!” Dearra cried. She tried to wrench free and jump from Khan’s back, but Jacob’s arms were like unyielding restraints around her, and Carly never slowed.
The sand shifted and churned, and a wave of earth drew rapidly towards Dearra, Carly and Jacob. For a moment it seemed that it would pass Darius altogether and pursue them, but then Darius drew forth a small blade, ran it along his hand, and wiped the blood upon the neck of his mount, turning the dark hair there even darker.
The shifting sands paused and then turned toward him, swelling like breakers as they drew near. Darius reached into his robes and withdrew another object. He pressed it firmly to his injured hand, wrapped a bit of cloth around it to hold it in place, and then, unexpectedly, threw himself from his horse’s back, rolling several times before jumping to his feet and drawing his sword.
The beast that lurked beneath the sand seemed to pause, as if confused that there seemed to be two targets where moments before there had only been one. A thin, red ribbon emerged from the sand. It paused and turned towards Darius as if it were searching for something.
Darius held perfectly still. The horse, on the other hand, stomped restlessly, the smell of blood making its nostrils flare wide. The red ribbon flickered toward the horse as if it were a tongue tasting the air, and then disappeared as quickly as it had arrived.
The sand continued to vibrate violently for a moment, and then, in a surge of blinding speed, the great serpent erupted from the ground, sending the horse in a tailspin as it tried in vain to save itself from the attack.
Then, seconds before it would have been too late, Darius leapt forward, swung his sword in a high arc, and caught the snake just behind its left eye. The muscles in Darius’s arms strained as the blade tore through the serpent’s bone and muscle, and came free as it sliced through the top of the serpent’s mouth. A shower of blood gushed out as the great serpent fell dead on the sand.
Daniel and Carly were already half way back to Darius by the time he looked up. They all slid quickly from their horses who were hesitant to draw too near the carcass of the slain serpent.
“Thank Cyrus you’re all right!” Dearra exclaimed. “What were you thinking? You could have been killed? You still may be!” Dearra stalked toward him, her stride determined and stiff with anxiety.
Darius walked toward her as well, his face a mask of rage that Dearra didn’t stop to interpret. Rather than stop when he reached Dearra, Darius strode past her instead. Two strides more took him to his destination and his fist crashed into Jacob’s face. Jacob’s nose was smashed beneath the powerful assault with a very satisfying crunch. Jacob stumbled back under the crushing blow, and managed to right himself only to be knocked completely off his feet a moment later when another fist connected with his eye.
“Stop! Darius! No!” Dearra wailed desperately. She tried to grab hold of Darius’s arm before he could land another blow to Jacob, who lay prone at his feet, but she was restrained by Daniel. “Wait!” she said. “You don’t understand!”
Darius grabbed hold of Jacob’s shirt and lifted him from the sand and rock, while his other hand prepared to strike. A sudden gust of wind came from out of nowhere, blinding them all with dust and sand. The wind’s intensity increased until it became a howling fury, forcing Dearra and Daniel to the ground. Then, in a burst of power, Darius was forced backwards as well. He settled on one knee, bracing against the gale.
Carly lowered her outstretched arms slowly, and as she did, the wind weakened. When her hands came to rest at her sides, it was with one last puff of air, which was followed by complete stillness. Carly looked down at her hands and murmured, “Outstanding,” quietly, her voice sounding both surprised and pleased.
“What in the name of Cyrus was that?” Daniel asked. He reached up to brush the sand from his hair with his hand.
Jacob sat cautiously upright, spit blood from his battered mouth, and reached up to his nose to snap it back into place. He spat once more.
Dearra stood slowly and began brushing the grit from her garments. “Thank you, Carly. I thought I was going to have to do something drastic. That was pretty impressive, but also ki
nd of scary, you know?”
“You’re welcome, Dearra. And you have nothing to be afraid of, you know that. But if it makes you feel any better, I think I scare myself a little bit too.”
“Dearra,” Darius growled. “You have exactly five seconds to explain what’s going on before I strangle Jacob.”
“Now, now,” Jacob taunted, finally standing upright, “you don’t want to do that. Dearra would have to kill you first. Isn’t that right, my sweet?”
Jacob’s last comment was the final straw for Darius who sprang forward, hoping to make good on his promise.
“Darius! Stop! I gave my word to Lord Falco! Stop! For Phillip’s sake!” Dearra laid a hand on Darius’s sleeve, and she lowered her voice to a whisper. “Please, Darius. Please.”
Her gentle plea was enough to make him hesitate. He turned to look into her golden eyes, sighed heavily, and shoved Jacob roughly away from him. “Fine!” he said, “but someone better start explaining what’s going on!”
Chapter 35
It was dark and cooler than Royce would have thought possible as he and Reo made their way around the outer edge of Bandar. He wasn’t sure where they were going, he only knew they needed to go somewhere. It all seemed so simple when he’d first planned it: sneak aboard the boat, make his way into the port city, and find his father. Once he’d found him, they certainly wouldn’t be able to send him back, nor would they be able to spare anyone to look after him, so they’d have no choice but to allow him to help with the rescue.
It was the perfect plan, until, that is, he had seen the city. All his years on the sheltered island of Maj had not prepared him for Bandar. Reo walked tightly to his side, and once or twice when someone had dared to creep too close to him, perhaps sensing an easy mark, the massive wolf gave a throaty growl, sending the would be thief looking for less hazardous targets.
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