Amane of Teravinea - The Crown (The Teravinea Series Book 3)

by D. Maria Trimble

  My extra clothing, I stuffed into my satchels that were secured on the saddle. I debated whether to remove Eshshah’s saddle to give her some relief while I went into the township. We both decided we should not let down our guard — she would remain saddled. I was disappointed she wouldn’t be able to enjoy the water or do any fishing. She assured me she was satisfied to just lie on the beach and soak in the sun. If she felt like it, she could find shade at the edge of the jungle that pressed down toward the shore.

  “Well, I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, Eshshah. Wish me luck. It looks like there’s a pathway through the jungle that I hope will lead me into town.”

  “All I can say, Amáne, is please be careful. Keep your eyes open. We know nothing of this place. Just gather the information we need and come back quickly. It is beautiful here and I wouldn’t mind returning with Sovann, but there is a dangerous feeling to it. Stay alert.”

  Her tone sent a slight shiver through me, but I shook it off and headed toward the settlement.

  After a half-hour walk, the jungle opened up to reveal the harbor we had spotted from the air. It was alive with activity as men unloaded the cargo-laden ships. No one paid me any mind as I walked past, heading toward the collection of buildings the same color as the jungle from which they appeared to grow.

  I came upon a quaint little village. The style of which I was not familiar. The roofs were thatched with palm fronds, and the predominant building material was bamboo. I had read about that exotic plant, but had never seen it. It was, in reality a giant woody grass, but very sturdy. I’ll have to remember to add a sketch and information to the journal that Leyna had begun.

  I certainly turned heads — I wore more clothing than anyone in the village. Most villagers I saw were men who lounged on the porches of their establishments. They did not wear shirts, just white baggy trousers and sandals. Some wore light vests, unfastened and showing most of their chests. To my shock, I noted some men that didn’t even wear trousers. They were as dark as Dorjan and had only a narrow strip of cloth — only enough to hide their private parts. Their brown muscular bodies glistened in the heat. I turned red and averted my eyes when those men strode by. They, however, didn’t hide their curiosity at the stranger in town.

  I passed only three women. Two walked together, dressed in white loose-fitting shirts and long light-colored skirts. They eyed me suspiciously. The third woman had on what looked like one piece of colorful cloth wrapped around her and tied above her breasts. No sleeves, no shoes. Her hair hung long and black down her back. Even though Leyna described the populace, truly, I didn’t come prepared for such an unfamiliar culture.

  According to Leyna’s writings, there was a pub on the main path called Tavern of the Ancient Ones. The information I sought would be found there, keeping in mind Leyna wrote her journals many many years ago. She had left Teravinea before the Healer linked with Torin. Whether that tavern even still existed, or someone knowledgeable still lived, would be up to me to find out.

  To my surprise, I came across the sign for the tavern after I had wandered about half way through the village. It had a carving of several dragons in flight and the words, Tavern of the Ancient Ones in a circle around them. The sign looked old and weathered compared to the relatively newer look of the building. The roof was thatched in palm fronds, like the rest of the village. Its front-facing side had only a half wall, from the ground up. Above that, the tavern opened out to the street. Even with the open front, it somehow remained dark inside.

  The moment I entered, I wanted to turn and run back out. The stench of sweat and liquor mixed with smoke overwhelmed me. The noise was nearly deafening. The clientele were predominantly male. I cringed as I noted all eyes were on me. Drawing in a jagged breath, I pulled myself to my full height. It would not have impressed anyone, but it gave me confidence.

  The best place I thought to start was with the barkeep. The man looked like he had put on a scowl at a young age and the scowl had stuck to his face. He stood behind the bamboo counter wiping a dirty tankard with a dirty rag.

  “Good morning sir,” I said, making sure my voice was low enough to sound at least like an adolescent boy.

  He shot me a quick glance but returned to his work.

  After a moment, I cleared my throat.

  Again his eyes darted in my direction but his task drew them back.

  “Excuse me, sir. I’m looking for information on someone who knows the location of the Valley of Dragons.”

  His dirty rag stopped mid swipe, but he didn’t look up.

  “Who wants to know.”

  What kind of question was that? I stood before him having just asked. Who else would it be that wants to know?

  I made sure my expression remained flat. “I would like to know, sir.”

  I would never have thought it possible, but his eyebrows came even closer together.

  “Are you daft, boy? Do you have a name?”

  “... er ... yes, it’s Vann.”

  “That’s it? Just Vann? No family name? No place of origin?”

  “Vann of Anbon, sir. Anbon, in Teravinea.”

  He abandoned his activity and gave me a piercing stare.

  “Teravinea? You’re a long way from home. How did you get here?”

  “I came across the water from Serislan.” I hoped he assumed I meant by ship. “I need a name of someone who knows the Valley of Dragons.”

  “Teravinea?” he repeated in a booming voice, ignoring my request. Silence settled over the tavern. All eyes were back on me.

  The barkeep changed his attitude and became almost friendly, if that were possible.

  “It’s been ages since anyone from those parts came in here. My grandpap told me about a Teravinean woman. A dragon rider.”

  My heart stopped. Leyna, I thought to myself.

  He gestured toward an even darker corner of the tavern. “That man across the room. You might want a word with him.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  He gave a barely perceptible nod. I could feel his eyes on me as I made my way through the boisterous room to the table he indicated. I wondered if I didn’t have my dragon rider eyesight, would I have even been able to see the man who slumped at the table?

  “Excuse me, sir. May I ask you a question?”

  “You just did. The answer’s no. Now leave me be.”

  Frustrated, I turned to my dragon in thought transference. “Eshshah, Orchila is getting more infuriating every minute I spend here. I can’t wait to get my conversation over with this man so you and I can go home. Hopefully, Ansel will find better treatment than they’ve shown me.”

  Eshshah grunted her agreement.

  Ignoring the man’s rudeness, I said, “The barkeep thought that you would be able to help me. I need to know the location of the Valley of Dragons.”

  His head jerked up. With one eye squinting, he gave me a black look. I stood my ground and glared back, then pulled over a nearby chair and slid into it.

  He relaxed his stare and gestured to the barkeep as if I had passed some sort of test. A woman brought two short pieces of bamboo and set them on their end on the table. The bamboo pieces were, in fact, small drinking vessels filled with a dark liquid.

  The man pushed one over to me and lifted the other in a toast.

  “Drink.”

  I eyed the liquid and shook my head. “No thanks.”

  “It’ll make a man outta ya. Put hair on your chest. Drink.”

  “What is it?”

  “It’s called dragon fire.”

  I pressed my lips together and didn’t move.

  “Ya want information? That what ya came fer?” He lifted the bamboo vessel, tossed the drink down his throat, and gave me his one-eyed stare. Again, he gestured toward the drink on my side.

  I had no choice. Picking up the bamboo, I matched his action. The instant the liquid hit the back of my throat, I understood its name. I inhaled at the shock of the burning liquor. Big mistake. Inhaling magnifi
ed the burn. It threw me into a fit of coughing. My eyes watered. But I could still see the smirk on the man’s face.

  When I could breathe again, I glared daggers at him. “I need ... I need the location ... of the Valley of Dragons,” I said in a raspy voice between coughs.

  “Didn’t make a man outta ya, did it?”

  I didn’t respond.

  His hand clamped on my wrist. I jolted, but didn’t make any effort to remove it from where he had it pinned to the table. I had to see what he’d do next. Mentally, I switched into fight mode.

  “That’s ’cuz you’re not one. Isn’t that right, boy?” he spat.

  My eyes narrowed but never left his. I calculated my next move should I have to defend myself. I took note of my escape route.

  He reached over and ran his rough dirty hand along my jaw. Leering, he said, “Truth bein’, you’re not even a boy.”

  My heart beat fast. In the next breath, I flipped my wrist and seized his hand that had pinned mine. I grabbed the thumb of his other hand and twisted it back, slamming it to the table. Holding both of his hands firmly, I moved in close and said between gritted teeth, “Don’t touch me again.”

  Releasing him, I leaped to my feet. My chair crashed backwards. I backed away with one hand on the hilt of my sword — fully aware of the eyes on me.

  The man’s face cracked into a smile. While I looked on in shock, he burst out laughing. He threw both hands up in a surrender, “Ya bested me, madam. I concede. Ya beat ol’ Pratt.”

  He motioned with his hand. “Take yer chair back.”

  I remained standing. “Do you know how to get to the Ancient Ones?”

  “What’s yer hurry? Sit down and have another dragon fire.” He signaled to the barkeep.

  “I’m not having another.” My throat still burned. My head felt light.

  Pratt laughed.

  I spun around and headed toward the exit.

  “Hold on a minute. I know who can give ya what ya want.”

  Turning back to him, “I thought you knew where the Valley was.”

  “I know someone who can take ya there.”

  “I don’t need to go there, yet. I just need to know it exists, and that there’s someone who could take me.”

  “It does exist. He’s been there. He can show you a map.”

  “Then take me to him.”

  “Come back in two hours and I’ll acquaint ya.”

  Two hours! I don’t want to stay in this place another minute. “Eshshah,” I said in thought transference, “should we stay?”

  “You have enough information. We know we’re in the right place. We can come back with Lord Ansel and Sovann. He would probably get better treatment than you’re getting.”

  “I’m sure he would, but we’ve come all this way. Two more hours for a map might make it worthwhile.”

  “Suit yourself, Amáne, but the sooner we leave here, the better. This is not a friendly place. It doesn’t feel right.”

  “I know. I feel it too. I’ll get the map, then we’ll leave immediately. I promise.”

  I decided to spend the wait with Eshshah back on the beach where we first landed. On my way out of the village I’d stopped at a shop to buy something more suitable to wear in this sweltering heat. The proprietor eyed me curiously as I bought a pair of light trousers and a gauzy shirt. I found a pair of sandals that fit, so I bought those, too.

  Eshshah had a chance to fish and enjoy the water. Relieved of her saddle for a bit she took full advantage of the bounty in the turquoise sea. Meanwhile, I repacked the saddle bags, adding my tights and tunic to my dragon scale boots, breastplate and helmet that I’d packed earlier. I decided to leave my sword, my dagger and my glaive in their places on the saddle. The only weapons I would take were two small knives that tucked into the sash at my waist.

  Eshshah, well sated, joined me back on the beach. I resaddled her, then grabbed her fangs, pulled her close and kissed her.

  “Please be careful, Amáne. I’ll follow you in thought transference. If you need me, I’ll be there in a matter of minutes.”

  “I’ll be careful, Eshshah. Thank you, but you don’t have to worry. Nothing’s going to happen. I’ll meet Pratt and the man with the map at the tavern; give them some coins for their trouble and be back here in no time. I can’t wait to see Gallen’s face when we prove the Valley exists.”

  I turned for the trail that led back to the village. After a brisk walk, I arrived at the village in less time than I had on the first trip.

  When I made my way to the Tavern of the Ancient ones, I saw that Pratt waited in front. A raised eyebrow and nod of his head was his only form of greeting. As I came closer, he gave me his one-eyed stare. I suppressed a shudder as he looked me up and down. I was glad I’d decided on trousers and not the wrapped dress the women here wore.

  I stopped at a safe distance from him. “Where’s this man I’m to meet?”

  “This way,” he grunted and took off at a fast walk toward the far end of the settlement.

  This was not what I expected. I had second thoughts about following him, but decided a little further would be fine. We were still in the village, and Eshshah was only a short distance away. I had to practically run to catch up.

  We passed the last building, but he kept going. The street narrowed until we reached the end of the cleared area. The edge of the jungle loomed ahead. It rose like a wall above us. My senses sharpened. I stopped. He stepped onto a small path. I didn’t follow.

  Pratt turned when he realized I wasn’t behind him.

  “You want yer map or not?” He sounded rougher than he had in the tavern.

  “Where are we going?”

  “A wee bit further. His shack is just a few paces down this path. Ya comin’ or ya turned scared all of the sudden?”

  I hesitated, so close to getting what I came for.

  “Aw, yer just a spineless little girl after all. I knew you wasn’t as tough as you pretended to be.”

  I glared at him. How dare he call me a spineless little girl? With Eshshah’s venom running in my veins and the fact I could call upon her strength, I had no fear of this crooked little man.

  “I just don’t trust you, Pratt.”

  Pride got the better of me. “Eshshah, I’m going to follow him. If I don’t see the shack soon, I’ll turn around and head back.”

  Eshshah wavered. I could feel her reluctance. “If you must, Amáne. I’m with you.”

  I stepped onto the path, no wider than an animal trail. It certainly didn’t see any amount of use. My hand poised near my knives, I followed at a safe distance behind Pratt. He turned around to eye me more than once. I’d give him a bit more time, then I’ll end this trek.

  We traveled a few paces more — the jungle closed in around us. The sun barely reached the ground. One minute the forest echoed noisily of insects, birds and other animal calls that weren’t familiar to me. The next minute, complete silence. I stiffened, ready to draw a knife.

  “Eshshah, I’m coming back. I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

  Before I had the chance to turn around, two large men stepped out from behind the trees in front of Pratt, spears crossed. They were dressed like the men I’d seen in the village. Naked, except for a strip of cloth that barely covered them — their dark bodies a sharp contrast to the large green leaves behind them. I drew my blades, surprised Pratt didn’t make any effort to defend us. Instead, he calmly stepped off the trail, allowing them a direct path toward me.

  Another native emerged from behind a large plant to my right. I spun on him and lunged. He blocked my thrust, but not before I drew blood as my blade raked his arm. I advanced, keeping my eye on the first two savages. Why didn’t they make a move to help their companion?

  As I completed that thought a sharp sting on the back of my neck made me cry out in pain. I dropped one of my knives and reached for my neck. Fear chilled my spine when I felt what had caused the sting. I yanked out a miniature arrow, no longer than
my finger. A pointed sliver of wood with feather fletchings on the end.

  A sharp glance at Pratt showed a malicious smile on his ugly face. My jaw tightened, then my shoulders. My other knife dropped as my hand constricted, no longer able to hold it. The sickening realization dawned that the dart contained poison. A hot burn traveled down my body, paralyzing as it flowed.

  “Eshshah,” I cried in thought transference.

  “I’m coming, Amáne.”

  “It would do no good. You won’t be able to get to me. The jungle is too dense. I didn’t know trees could grow so close. You won’t be able to fly in.” I felt her distress. “I’m sorry, Eshshah, I should have listened to you.”

  She poured her strength into me. It was a great comfort, but it didn’t stop the spread of the poison. Even with Eshshah’s help, the effects of the foreign substance could not be reversed.

  There was no pain. Only the terrifying claustrophobic feeling of being helplessly incapacitated. My vision became hazy, but not completely extinguished. The paralysis reached my legs and I toppled over on my side.

  I watched as several more men came out from behind the trees. They spoke to Pratt in a language I couldn’t understand.

  One native handed the traitor a small cloth bag. He took it, hefted it to feel the weight, then turned back on the trail in the direction of town. As he passed me, he said, “These men will show you to the Valley, just like I promised. Give the ancient ones my regards.” His wicked laughter echoed back as he retreated.

  There were six or maybe seven natives. I watched, powerless, as they closed in on me. They circled — their spears at the ready. I summoned all of my willpower and strength to try to get to my feet. Even with Eshshah’s help my muscles wouldn’t obey. I couldn’t use my voice. Thankfully I could still breathe.

  One man had a long thick bamboo pole that he laid down behind me, against my back. Two others crossed my arms over my chest and wrapped a fibrous rope around me, securing the pole to my back. They bent my knees, and placing the bamboo between my ankles they tied them securely. Two of the natives grabbed the ends of the pole and lifted me. I was carried like a trussed pig as I watched the ground pass beneath me. The rope around my chest made breathing difficult. The pole between my ankles rubbed painfully on my bones.