by L. L. McNeil
‘Fellow pirate. Not at the time he wasn’t, but we became allies after. Since then, I’ve never go anywhere unarmed. Well, not if I could help it.’
‘A lucky fate. They’d have taken you back to Sereth, no doubt,’ Sapora said. ‘Children are most prized, but anyone who gets into a scrap will do.’
‘Why…?’ Moroda asked, hesitant.
Sapora smiled, his fangs bared.
‘If you were in Val Sharis when it happened. Why didn’t you report it to the Guard? They’d have helped you! They’d have arrested those who hurt you!’ Morgen said.
‘Morgen, Morgen, Morgen.’ Amarah shook her head. ‘You don’t know much about Val Sharis, do you?’
‘I know what acceptable behaviour is and what isn’t!’
‘In Corhaven, perhaps.’
‘Is Val Sharis so different? I thought our countries were allied?’ Eryn asked.
‘Yes, but the Ittallan and Varkain live throughout Val Sharis and Sereth. They’re pretty damned different to us. Behaviours change and cultures change. What’s illegal here is legal there. I learned what the Varkain really were that night.’ Amarah said, bitterness evident in her tone.
Moroda lapsed into silence, thinking about what happened to Amarah, and wondering what happened in Sereth. It was something awful, but no-one would tell her. She shivered, and wondered whether that was perhaps for the best.
A flurry of cold wind washed over the ship as Kohl landed on deck. Moroda looked up, worried he’d seen more Arillians, but a smile played on his misshapen lip when he caught her eye. ‘Moroda. You remember in the Fourth Moon Inn? Burian? I told you about the scars the war left on Linaria?’
She nodded, the ereven sphere still clutched tightly.
‘You might want to have a look down now.’
She got to her feet and rushed to the side of the deck. The sea was a thin, blue line on the horizon, and ahead, a wide valley splayed out before her. Great jagged cliffs jutted out from the land where they shouldn’t, breaking up the sweeping plains, and she followed their lines as the land was carved up and split over several, grassy steppes. Further inland, as the mountains grew and the steppes turned into forests, buildings dotted the landscape. Ahead, just barely in sight, a city emerged, and beyond the city, far in the distance, dragons and phoenixes flew.
Moroda absorbed the sight before her, the wind blowing her hair as they continued inland. Despite her wonder at the view, Sapora’s words worried her. What was it the Varkain did? She looked at Sapora, the prince of his people, and was curious and afraid of him in the same breath. Her nerve gave out, and she decided she didn’t want to ask him.
‘You okay, Ro?’ Eryn rubbed her sister’s arm. ‘Quite the view, isn’t it? I’m afraid Niversai looks rather drab in comparison.’
‘Built in a different time. Different purpose,’ Morgen said, standing next to Eryn and leaning over the side. ‘Val Sharis is a land of gold, if ever there was one.’
‘You do know a lot about these cities,’ Moroda commented.
Morgen laughed. ‘All part of the training. You need to understand the basic geography of the world! I don’t know everything about every town. Just the important ones.’ He grinned, but Moroda turned away, more interested in watching Taban Yul growing as they approached. As the sun reached the horizon, the sky above them began to darken. It was going to be a cold night.
Her mind raced. Aciel and Jato following them. Anahrik and Palom leaving. A party in the palace. The ereven sphere and finding a dragon. The Varkain and what exactly they did to non-Varkain.
She was still tired from her encounter with Jato, and was very much looking forward to a soft, plush bed as been promised to her and Eryn by Sapora.
‘The palace is ahead,’ Amarah called. ‘Straight east.’
‘I see the city,’ Morgen said, walking past the wheel and out onto deck.
Moroda shrugged out of the large cloak, but kept her own on. She and Eryn joined Morgen near the front, and she inhaled sharply. Taban Yul stood tall, a mighty city surrounded by two high, gleaming walls. They shone bright white in the low sunlight, and as they drew nearer, Moroda saw they were made from what appeared to be solid marble. It was mostly a creamy white, with ribbons of pale grey and blue running through it. They were unlike any city walls Moroda had ever seen before. The inner wall stood an extra five or six feet taller than the outer, but was not quite as thick, with a thirty foot gap between them.
Other airships lingered in the air; most were more than twice the size of Khanna, and far more heavily armed. Moroda saw them the same time Amarah did.
‘Royal Guard,’ Palom explained. ‘Those are warships—they keep an eye on ships coming into the city.’
The skies were full of trading ships, too; most of them were large, triple decked vessels, with wide sails of many bright colours. The city below came into view as Khanna flew slowly over the outer walls. Moroda was slightly disappointed to see there were no golden streets, though there was more white marble.
‘Well, Palom, seeing as this is your town, where am I docking?’ Amarah asked the Ittallan.
‘The palace,’ Sapora said, stepping up to Amarah. ‘You are all travelling with me and will be permitted. I will speak with Princess Isa on the situation, and seek wisdom from the Council of Val Sharis.’
‘I can’t believe I’m actually flying right into the guard’s hands.’ Amarah said, shaking her head, and altering her course slightly towards the palace. ‘They best leave Khanna alone!’
‘Don’t be so pessimistic, Amarah.’ Sapora grinned at her, his pointed teeth glistening. ‘You’ve benefitted the travel of a royal. I’m sure you’ll be well rewarded for your inconveniences.’
The palace became clearer as they approached, and Moroda was stunned at how pretty it was. It loomed ahead, set atop a hill, the highest point in the city, and entirely clad in gleaming marble, with dark blue, almost purple veins snaking across walls and pillars for visual contrast. The palace must have been four times the size of Rosecastle, and twice as high. Tall, slender turrets rose up around it, connected by equally tall bridges. It almost seemed like the palace floated in the sky.
Gold statues of animals adorned with cut gemstones topped the many pillars surrounding the palace, spaced at regular intervals.
There were tigers and lions, elephants and bears, bulls a stork, and several birds of prey she couldn’t identify. Looking up from the gold statues, she saw the city of Taban Yul was set before the incredible backdrop of the distant Feor mountains; the border of Val Sharis and Sereth.
‘Unquestionably the finest city in Linaria,’ Palom said.
Moroda couldn’t help but nod in agreement.
‘The docks are to the east,’ Sapora said, directing Amarah.
When it was clear they were heading for the palace, one of the airships that had been floating, dormant near one of the turrets, began to move towards Khanna, and Moroda suddenly felt apprehensive.
‘Can’t just fly up to the palace unannounced, eh?’ Amarah asked. Though her words were light, Moroda could hear the nerves in her tone. Being so close to her on Jato’s ship had made her see another side of her.
‘Here’s the envoy,’ Anahrik said, watching as a raven flew the short distance from the airship to Khanna. It circled above the small ship.
‘Tismat. I am Prince Sapora, returning to Taban Yul for the winter ceremony. I shall see Princess Isa and the Council at once.’
The raven circled twice more, before flying back to the airship. Two Ittallan, in their form as huge brown eagles, formed the front of the escort, and the raven made its way behind them, getting lost behind the larger birds of prey.
‘Great welcoming committee. They better keep away from Khanna. Don’t want any scratches down the side from those damned talons!’ Amarah said, glaring at the birds as they followed behind. ‘For someone who makes their living thriving on opportunities, you have an incredibly pessimistic view of the world.’ Sapora said. ‘Your precious ship will n
ot be damaged. Stop whinging about it.’
‘Money just so happens to be a worry of mine. I know you don’t have the same concerns, prince.’
‘Do stop arguing, Amarah. You will be paid once we arrive, Princess Isa will see to it. I’ve given you my word, so try to relax and enjoy being in the palace. It’s likely the only chance you’ll see it out of bars, anyway.’
They followed the escort into the palace docks while there was still light outside. As Khanna gently flew along lines of already docked ships, their escorts slowed the pace, eventually hovering in mid-air. ‘Looks like this is where we’ll be docking today.’ Amarah said, grabbing the wheel and pulling levers to bring in her sails.
Khanna gently manoeuvred into position, wings tucked in and sails folded down, before resting on the wooden plinth extending from the marble palace wall. There were lines of ships docked beneath them, and one or two above them, but the extensive hangar was, in fact, mostly empty.
‘After you, Varkain.’ Amarah said, waiting for Sapora to take the lead.
‘Prince Sapora.’ The guard dropped to one knee to greet the group as they disembarked. ‘We were not expecting you. Apologies for the brusque security; things have been in uproar for the past few days with that damned Arillian charging about in Corhaven.’
‘Rise.’ Sapora said, looking at the three Ittallan, who had landed and transformed back, joining the guard on his knee.
‘Prince Sapora, please, will you follow me? I’m sure Isa will be glad to see you.’ The shortest of the three, the raven said, stepping forward. He was balding, with wrinkles deep in his skin, and wore ill-fitting robes, with his sleeves bundled up about his wrists.
‘Princess Isa.’ Sapora corrected, his eyes narrowed. ‘Yes of course, Princess Isa will be most pleased to see you.’ The raven echoed, dropping to one knee again and bowing his head low.
Moroda and Eryn were the last to disembark and shared a worried look at hearing the exchange between Sapora and the raven. Eryn opened her mouth to speak, but Moroda hushed her. ‘We’ll find out.’
‘What of the rest of your party, my prince?’ The raven asked, head still bowed.
Sapora turned to them all and calculated his response for several long moments. Moroda held her breath, afraid suddenly.
‘I expect they will have free reign of the city and palace alike. Have rooms prepared for them all, and invitations extended to tonight, should they wish to attend. Everything will be at the expense of the crown.’
‘Your father’s crown, Prince Sapora? Are you sure-’
‘I would not presume to correct me again, raven.’ Sapora interjected, pupils contracting into slits, the only expression of his rage. ‘Once more and you’ll regret it.’
‘Please follow me, my prince.’ One of the other guards stepped forward, his arm in front of the raven, saving him from the edge of Sapora’s tongue. ‘We will have food prepared immediately for you and your guests, and preparations are already underway for the banquet this evening. Please, do follow me. I shall show your honoured guests to their quarters.’ He turned to lead the party into the palace.
The raven remained on one knee until they had all passed, before standing up and joining the remaining Ittallan at the back of the escort. Moroda trailed behind with Eryn, and glanced at him as he whispered. ‘I wish we had known the prince was coming. I do not like how things are going.’
Chapter Nineteen
The palace of Taban Yul was unlike anything Moroda could envisage in her wildest dreams. She had thought Berel was beautiful, and in a rural, ancient, way it was. Taban Yul, on the other hand, was vibrant where Berel was drab, busy where Berel was peaceful, and covered in glittering gemstones where Berel had sandy bricks. The armour worn by the Royal Guard inside the palace was polished to a mirror-sheen, making Morgen’s look incredibly dull in comparison. They all wore the same gold and red livery of the Imperial Guard, but their helms boasted three long spikes protruding from the top, matching shoulder pads, and even a short metal spike on their boots. The Ittallan trademark fabric sash crossed their back and breast, and was tied at their sides with a triple bow. Morgen explained the colour of the material denoted rank; blue was for lower-ranking officers, green were senior officers—his own rank— and red sashes were for captains. It was different in Corhaven, where they only had a different coloured helm rather than the sashes in Val Sharis. The raven, however, wore no armour, only soft robes, bejewelled slippers, and a black sash. Morgen didn’t know what it signified, and Moroda did not wish to ask in case she caused offence.
The royal guard bustled around the corridors in twos and threes, a far cry from the thinly stretched guard in Niversai, and despite how hurriedly everyone seemed to be racing around, Moroda felt quite at ease—the rushing around was not centred on her or Eryn. Every other word was ‘prince,’ and Moroda was simply part of the entourage.
‘We part here.’ Palom said, stretching his arms out in front of him with a yawn. ‘My forge is here in the city. Anahrik and I will go to be working there now.’
Anahrik shuffled up to his side and yawned, too, rolling his shoulders. ‘We’ll be smack in the centre of Trader’s Alley. Enjoy your party tonight. With everyone rushing around so much, looks like it’s gonna be a busy one.’
‘The city will be quiet, I think. Many people will go to the palace tonight.’
‘Taban Yul? Quiet?’ Anahrik laughed. ‘Palom, you’ve been away from home too long. Goldstones won’t be about, but everyone else will. Not that we’ll see much of them locked away in the workshop! Just need to get these little projects finished!’
Moroda nudged Eryn’s arm. ‘Thank you for allowing Anahrik and I on your ship. We will meet again soon, Amarah, to give your parting gift.’ Palom glanced to the sky pirate.
‘Parting gift? How kind. But lucky for you, Sapora’s sister has enough coin for a hundred trips, apparently.’ Amarah laughed.
‘Is money all you care about?’ Sapora asked, and Amarah turned away.
‘Enjoy your first taste of Ittallan culture tonight,’ Anahrik said to the others, ignoring Sapora’s jab at Amarah. ‘If you fancy a tour of Taban Yul, I’m sure I can sneak away from Palom for a couple of hours tomorrow. I know all the best spots!’ He tilted his head to the group and headed off.
Palom waved and followed his partner.
‘Farewell…’ Moroda said, her lip quivering a little as she watched the two Ittallan turn down a corridor. They were deep in talk, Anahrik gesticulating wildly, as was his nature, more engrossed in their work than in long goodbyes. Even though Sapora was royalty, they’d barely glanced at him. She thought to their first meeting, seeing the tiger appear outside the gates of Niversai as her city blazed under the dragon’s attack. Palom had offered her and Eryn his protection, and had kept Anahrik safe from Sapora. She still remembered their confrontation in Topeko’s home. Palom and Anahrik hadn’t trusted Kohl, but both had warmed to him a little after he had rescued her from Jato’s airship.
Her ring warmed her finger, but it did not buzz here. The meraki of the Ittallan was clearly too strong for her to feel anything in the palace.
‘You okay, Ro?’
‘All okay, Ryn.’ She looped her arm through her sisters’ and followed Sapora as he led them across one of the many covered palace bridges.
On entering the palace proper, they had immediately been offered refreshments. When Moroda declined their offering, the servants wished to take a request so as to provide what she wanted. Laughing, she had asked for some roasted peanuts, and within a few minutes, she had been provided with a bowl of them. Amazed at the service, Moroda shared them with Eryn, Morgen, and Amarah, and relaxed into being waited on.
‘I bet it’s like you’re a Goldstone again.’ Amarah sneered, taking another handful of the sweet and salty snack.
‘It is. It’s lovely.’ Eryn smiled.
Moroda, however, had not missed the accusation, but chose to remain silent, turning instead to Morgen, who was more interested
in the Royal Guards.
‘Just look at them all!’ He eyed the armour of another trio of guards as they jogged past, their armour clinking together in harmony. ‘They even run together…’ He returned his attention to his own armour, picking at a small spot of rust on one of his shoulder pads and flicking it away in disdain.
‘It’s a different place, different regimes, different armour.’ Moroda said, trying to ignore the other soldiers and focus her attention on Morgen. ‘Besides, there are so many other things you can look at instead of them.’
Magnificent tapestries adorned the walls along the length of the corridor. They were meticulously woven artworks of famous people, former kings and queens, battle scenes, landmarks, and all were laced with gemstones sewn into the fabric itself.
Moroda noticed the top half of the tapestries bore resemblance of a king or queen of old, and the bottom half flipped the image, like a playing card, depicting their true form. There was a great black bear, a swan, a stallion, two lions, an eagle, and the one furthest along the hall was a huge brown cobra. ‘My father.’ Sapora said, having watched Moroda's gaze.
‘I thought… but… aren’t the Varkain snakes?’ She asked, pausing before the tapestry.
‘Yes.’
‘Then why on the Ittallan tapestry? In their palace?’ Moroda asked, keeping her eyes on the cobra and not on Sapora.
‘My father, Vasil, is the King in Sereth, my homeland, a country which borders Val Sharis. He has been re-forging the bond between Ittallan and Varkain.’ He stared at the tapestry and narrowed his eyes. ‘He… conquered Val Shris and married an Ittallan woman of high rank. As his wife, she became a queen in Sereth. He became the King of Val Sharis through his takeover. He has power in both countries, but resides in Sereth. The tapestry was made shortly after. An Ittallan tradition. I am their child.’
‘And the princess?’ Moroda asked, looking down the hall at the other tapestries hung along it.
‘My father’s daughter with an Ittallan noble woman some months after my birth. You would call her a Goldstone.’ He returned his gaze to Moroda. ‘Vasil returned to Sereth with me when I was old enough to transform. He left governing Val Sharis to the Council and Ittallan nobility, though he still exerts power over them.’ He smiled as Eryn and Morgen leaned in closer.