There are many things Kedrick told me of which I would like to see. If I live long enough to do so.
Chapter Fifteen
There is a tension in the air as we walk that day. Everyone walks a little bit faster. There is more swearing, too, though the delegates do not seem angry or upset. My cheeks heat over and over, as Sanjay describes what he is going to do to his wife when he sees her. The other men roar with laughter at his crass comments and add their own. Rhone and Malir are the only delegates who seem to remember I’m there. Neither of them join in, to my heartfelt relief.
By late morning we have finally made it to the last shelf. A rope about ten strides long swings down to the ground below. A group of Guards stand at the bottom waving up to us. A few of the delegates cheer back down at them, but a heavy mood settles over the rest of us as Tomi starts down the rope.
“I forget they don’t know yet,” Adnan says, “that Kedrick is dead.” His thoughts describe my feeling exactly.
The people below us are too happy. How can they not feel Kedrick is gone?
Although it has become slightly easier, after realising Kedrick would want me to be happy, I still feel the wound of Kedrick’s death as though I was the one hit with the arrow. But oblivious to this, Glacium has kept turning. Dread pits in the base of my stomach. How will this world change once they know?
It would be so easy to close my eyes and imagine that two years have passed and I’m part of the peace delegation to Glacium, my companions not Bruma, but Solati. Kedrick waits at the bottom for me.
Rhone approaches with the rope I have become accustomed to since breaking my wrist. Trusting another person with my life is something I instinctively shy away from, but I allow him to hook the rope around my hips, tying me to him.
“Last piggy back, Tatuma,” Sanjay says.
“What an odd term,” I say. “I’m not going to ask you what it means.”
“Well, I know how you Solati hate to ask questions, so I will offer the answer anyway. It’s when someone carries you on their back,” he explains, purposely misunderstanding my comment. I hadn’t believed a word from his mouth since his lie about the snow.
“I’m sure. If so, what is a piggy?” I ask.
I have to hand it to Sanjay, his lie about a pink, four-legged creature is convincing. He even adds a strange sound the animal would make. Rhone snorts as I thank Sanjay for the fantastic story.
I hold onto Rhone as he lowers us down the rope, bringing one massive hand down after the other in a slow rhythm. When we reach the bottom, the new men look at me with curiosity. I look between them and my companions. The guards are well fed. All of the delegates have lost weight on the journey. I have no doubt my state is similar.
The ground is icy here, like the shelves on Oscala have been for the last few days. There are a few trees around. Their leaves are green, not the red-black colour I’m used to, and the bark is brown.
I feel for the arrow end in my pocket, but it’s still in my robes in the pack. The wood here must match the end of the shaft. It is a dark brown also. I was right! It was from a Bruma’s arrow.
I look around me in amazement as we walk, ducking as some kind of winged animal flies over my head. The men chuckle at my reaction.
We do not walk around the outside of the world as you would on Osolis. When I ask Roman, he tells me going around the outside would be too dangerous, instead we will walk straight down the middle of the first sector to the centre, and from there we will walk around to the third sector where the King currently resides. The villagers here are not as peaceful.
There must not be any Dromeda to ride. Their ministers must waste a lot of time travelling between sectors. But then I remember Kedrick telling Olandon that the ministers only reported to the King while their area was in the fourth sector.
“Why is Glacium split into six parts?” I ask when we stop for a break. “The weather in your fourth sector cannot spread like our fire does and I have not seen any landmark which splits the sectors into parts like our rivers do,” I explain. There were many snow-covered mountains and icy formations around, but it seemed like they were randomly placed.
A few of the delegates seem confused. Roman answers. “Glacium was not always split into six. It used to be split into four and instead of sectors, we had seasons. My grandmother used to speak of it.”
“Why was it split into four?” I ask, huddling in my coat to stay warm. It’s harder when we stop walking.
“It was based on the weather. Summer was the warmest season, then autumn signalled the cold change. Winter was the coldest season and then spring signalled the coming of the warmth again.”
“Why was it changed?”
Roman shrugs. Tomi answers instead. “The seasons became too large for the four ministers at the time to manage. Crime had escalated and the poor were suffering. So we split up the four sections into six.”
“Why six. Why not eight or ten?”
“We copied your world, I believe. It had been shown to work on Osolis and it split the revolution into six month slots to easily mark the passing of time,” he finishes.
Much to my delight, a layer of white powdery snow covers the ground as we move closer to the middle. I laugh as Adnan works some into a ball and throws it at Rhone, pointing at Sanjay when Rhone turns around glaring. It is nice to see him beat Sanjay at his own game.
Some of the objects we pass I’m able to identify from Kedrick’s descriptions. Though I struggle to understand the layout of their houses. They don’t have dotted villages as we do, the stone houses seem to be arranged in layers, much like our dining ring on Osolis. Large muddy lanes run between the buildings and layers. The housing gets much better as we move towards the centre.
Though I would think it impossible, the cold grows even worse as we draw closer to the third. The wind picks up, stabbing its icy chill through my clothing. I try to hold my veil down with one hand, but it is difficult while slipping and sliding over snowy heaps and icy rivets.
In the next layer of housing we pass, Malir signals for us to wait while he ducks into a building on the lane side. He comes out with a coat made of a soft, hairy material which he throws over my frame.
“Thank you,” I say, snuggling into the warm coat. I tuck my veil under it to free my one hand. It is hard to balance in the snow.
Malir nods. “I remember how hard it was to acclimatize to your world.” He returns to the front of our progression.
“He got you a child’s coat,” Roman says, scratching his long, thin face. “I suppose you’d be too small for female clothing here.”
“I can’t wait to see one of your females. You have all made them sound like giants. I think it cannot be true,” I say.
Adnan laughs from his place in the back of the line. “You can tell us yourself. You’ve passed many of them already.”
I turn my head to him in surprise. I had noticed the children, but everyone else had been the same size. I had assumed the females were inside in this weather.
Adnan laughs. “You know sometimes, although you wear that veil, I could swear I know exactly what your expression is.”
I shrug, turning away at the mention of my veil. It was the first time it had been mentioned since leaving Osolis. Now that I thought of it, it was odd they hadn’t tried to remove it. My eyebrows draw together as we continue our trudging walk. Maybe they would have tried if Blaine had been in charge. I guess they were just used to me with it on after their time in the Solati court. They wouldn’t want to be disrespectful in case the King let me live.
Making a point to survey the passing Bruma more closely, I try to make out the females, but it is hard with the shapelessness of the thick coats and furry head covers everyone wears. I decide the slimmer Bruma must be the females. Kedrick had been serious. My mouth drops open. These woman could be fierce opponents if they wished to be, though I knew the females here did not fight.
Soon, instead of patches here and there, the whole ground is white. We roun
d a large, snow-covered mound and a strange coughing sound startles me. I peer around Rhone’s side at the clearing ahead.
“What on Sol-” I start to say.
There are furry things ahead of us. A massive group of them. I quickly count and there are at least thirty. The coughing sound is coming from them. Rhone heads to the front furry thing and kneels down beside it.
“Quit your barking, Leo,” he demands. The thing sits back and stops coughing. Rhone looks over to the people waiting by a type of wagon with no wheels and they walk up to him with large grins.
“What are they?” I say, awe colouring my voice.
“Dogs,” Roman answers.
A long strap runs from the front of the wagon through the middle of two rows of the dogs. Each dog is then attached to this strap. Malir crunches towards the group.
“The King sent dogs. He must be eager for our arrival,” he says, approaching the three men. I swallow hard at the reminder of my impeding judgement.
The other delegates move forward to the wagon, and after a moment of hesitation, I follow them, keeping one eye on the dogs. Rhone splits us between the three wagons, Malir defers to his judgment. I huddle in the corner of one wagon, holding onto the side with my good arm, my other arm warm in the sling underneath my coat. Adnan, Tomi and Roman join me, cramming into the small space.
I hope this isn’t going to do what I think it is. Rhone steps onto the back of the wagon and it sinks down under his weight.
“Hike!” he yells and I gasp as the dogs lurch and pull. My heart leaps into my mouth as the wagon moves forward. Solis help me.
My hand tightens in a death grip on the side.
“What is this thing?” I shout at Adnan.
“A dog sled,” he shouts back over the coughing dogs.
It takes several moments to convince me I’m not in direct danger. I loosen my grip, and stare around me at the skimming landscape. Soon I’m laughing. This is much better than riding. Snow flies around us and the wind is nearly unbearable, but my excitement overrides the discomfort, I never want it to end. Especially because when it does, it will mean I’ve reached my probable death.
We near the end as the sky begins to darken. The palace of Glacium looms over us as we approach. It is nothing like the palace back home. There are no towers or rounded walls. It is grim and unmoveable. No effort has been made to dress it up.
A trellis grate blocking the entrance is lifted as we approach. Do they expect an attack? A group of four guards wave us through, saluting Malir as we pass. I look back the way we came between Rhone’s legs and hear the thud of the gate as it is lowered again. My mouth dries. Maybe it’s not to keep others out, but to keep prisoners in.
My eyes flick up to the walls and surrounding courtyard. There is no escape from here for someone with only one arm in use. The time to escape had been many weeks ago when I had unfortunately been dumb with grief.
“Whoa!” Rhone calls. It is one of many unusual sounds he has made during our journey.
We slide to a halt at the bottom of several great stone steps. I topple, momentum carrying my stiff body forward. Adnan grabs at me at the last moment to stop my face plant into the wagon. I clamber out with his help, stretching out the stiffness from the long ride. I climb up the steps which have seemingly been made for giants. Sanjay and Roman are at the top heaving on the formidable palace doors.
I step backwards into Sole, as a wave of noise bursts from the building. There is shouting and laughter, accompanied by banging, barking and the smashing of glass. Do they have dogs in there?
We sweep down a massive hallway lit with flaming torches. I startle at the open flame before I recollect where I am. I cannot imagine snow catching on fire. There is the occasional guard and some heavy armour as we move further down the hall, but the rest of it is all grey stone.
Malir stops just before a large archway. It is so big he would be able to walk through it with his hands stretched above his head and still not touch the top. The noise is at a maximum here. The King and his court must be on the other side. Any laughter and fun I had on the sled seems a week ago. Any joy from throwing snow or reaching the end of Oscala is forgotten, as each person in our group is met with the realisation of the news we must now bring to the King.
I feel the weight of their gazes on me. I know they wonder what will happen to me once the King is told. I look up and see worry in Adnan and Sanjay’s frames. I see my mother’s cruel smile reflected on Blaine’s face. But what worries me most and makes my hands shake is the look of regret I see in Malir’s eyes as he stands in front of me.
He takes a deep breath which I echo, and gives a nod to the others.
The men form a group around me. We turn and walk through the archway.
Chapter Sixteen
All sound is sucked out of the room. There are a few shouted greetings and cheers, but these fade out as the crowd senses something is amiss. Perhaps tragedy is written on the delegate’s faces.
Being in the middle of the group, I’m unable to see past the delegates large frames, especially as they are made bulkier by the cold weather clothing they all wear. Our footsteps echo as we approach the far end of the room.
The group comes to a halt.
I peek between the delegates, but can only make out the bottom of a throne.
Rhone shifts slightly, clearing my line of sight. My mouth drops at what I can see of the King.
He sits leaning to one side with his left leg sprawled out. I cannot see anything above his hips. But I can already tell that where Kedrick had been tall and graceful, his brother was taller still and built entirely of muscle.
There is a moment where we wait uncertainly, then Malir moves forward with a small step. He does not get a chance to speak. The King’s voice stops him partway through a gesture.
“My brother is dead,” the chilling voice says. I shiver at the menace in it. This man is dangerous. How did he know that? I realise the Prince would have greeted him first if he were here.
My growing friendship with the delegates had fooled me into thinking my reception would be easier. The threat in the King’s voice dispels these hopes instantly.
“Yes, my King,” Malir says, his head bowing so his greying hair falls over his face.
His words are met with a wave of gasps and whispers from the court. Despite the King being the judge of whether I live or die, my heart fills with sadness for him. To have his brother’s death so publically revealed, and be forced to put on such a collected front before being able to grieve, would be horrible. I could not imagine it. The sadness turns inwards. If things had gone differently, Kedrick could have been introducing me to the King and the court as a friend. I swallow this wishful thinking down before it overwhelms me.
“How?” the voice continues. I cannot gauge anything from his tone. “Falling off Oscala?” he asks.
I can hear the deep breath Malir takes before answering.
“An arrow to the chest.” The people closest to the King gasp. It is obvious they hadn’t expected anything more than an accident.
“Who?” The King’s voice surrounds us somehow. I feel like I’m being hunted. My blood beats in my ears as my judgement looms.
The future of our worlds is hanging in the balance. If he kills me it will mean war, unavoidable war. I know if I can determine who the assassin is, then I can make all of this go away. I can prove Osolis was innocent of any wrong doing. But I need to be alive to do it. If the King values peace in any measure, he will have to let me live. I will explain my suspicions and show him the arrow if I need to, though I prefer to keep this knowledge hidden for now. I knew that by showing the arrow I could clear Osolis straight away, but avenging Kedrick was more important right now. I would only show him if I absolutely had to.
“We don’t know who the assassin was,” Malir replies. “When Rhone and I found them, whoever killed the Prince had been gone many hours.” I see the King’s leg shift as he sits up from his sprawl.
“You
said them. Who else was with him?” he asks, demanding an answer.
Malir looks back at me with an apology in his eyes. The King leans forward, dangling massive forearms over his knees. His arms and hands are bare of jewellery.
“The Tatuma Olina, the…Princess of Osolis, was with him.”
The King stands. I feel Roman jerk behind me, startled by the abrupt movement. I can only see his massive boots as he stalks up to the group before coming to a stop in front of Malir.
“And why were you and Rhone not with my brother?” His tone is casual, but my heartbeat triples at the threat I hear in his words. It was not Malir and Rhone’s fault. Should I say something in their defence? I await Malir’s answer with clenched hands.
“We were on watch outside Prince Kedrick’s quarters. When we entered the room early the next morning to awaken him, he was not there. We began tracking him immediately.” The undertones of fear in Malir’s voice make me quake. If Malir is scared of the King, I know I should be terrified.
“He…snuck out. To see a girl. Why?” Bafflement forces its way out of the King’s mouth. It is the first emotion I have heard from him. Maybe he is human after all.
There is no sound in the room.
Malir speaks quietly, but I doubt his words are missed by anyone. “Because he loved her.” The room gasps collectively and sounds of disgust and surprise swell in the hall. There is a sharp intake of breath from the King. The room hushes suddenly, I look around in confusion.
“He fell in love with a Solati?” the King says more than asks, spitting the words out as though they taste sour. “He snuck out to see her like a young boy?” he continues, his astonishment evident. I grit my teeth.
No one dares to speak.
I marvel at the openness of his ruling. There is no scenario I can imagine where my mother would have this conversation in front of her court.
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