Amáne of Teravinea - The Prophecy (The Teravinea Series Book 2)

by D. Maria Trimble

  Breathing in, I tried to keep my balance as I struggled with my spear to lift the lid. I needed more leverage, but out of sheer willpower, and Eshshah’s help, I managed to raise it. I tossed the egg and held my breath as it arced into the opening in the crate. The lid slammed shut. Letting my breath out, I begged for the unhatched dragon’s forgiveness for this show of disrespect. Maybe Bern, Eben or Avano could make their way here and retrieve it — if I didn’t make it.

  My legs gave way. I stumbled but managed to jump clear. The door flew open. Three guards tumbled into the room. I quickly dispatched one of them. More rushed in. I had to look for another way out. Charging toward the other end of the chamber, I realized there was no other exit. I was trapped ... again. I ducked behind a crate and listened in horror as the storeroom filled with the sound of pounding boots.

  Someone bellowed in a rough voice, “The boy stays alive! D’you hear me? If any of you send him to his ancestors I’ll be sure to oversee your torture and slow death.”

  “Eshshah!” I cried in thought transference.

  “I’m with you Amáne.” Her strength spread through my body as I made the decision to stand and fight sooner rather than later. It was my only chance.

  “Eshshah, if these men obey their orders, this may not be my last day in this life.” I had to give her hope, but could not fully trust that those orders would be followed.

  Bursting from behind the crate, I engaged the first man. I knew he’d underestimate me because of my size. This was always to my advantage. Coming in too close, he didn’t know what hit him when I thrust my spear into his neck. He dropped quickly. The others approached with a little more caution. They stepped back out of reach.

  I retreated toward a corner. I’d make my stand there, with the walls to my back. Before I reached my goal, the men had advanced and started to fan around me. My hopes of escape faded.

  My mind raced for a solution. Glancing down, I spotted a crate with its lid askew. It was packed with daggers. I moved my glaive to my other hand. Before the soldiers realized what was happening, I began grabbing and hurling daggers. Their shields stopped most of them, but the ones I threw low found flesh. My opponents weren’t in full armor. They had no greaves, poleyn, or cuisses to protect their shins, knees, or their thighs. When they lowered their shields to protect their legs, I threw high — again with some success.

  The guards were dropping or backing up. But it didn’t increase my chances of escape. There were now too many of them. More than likely, it would increase the chances that they would disobey their orders. I decided to stop throwing the daggers.

  It looked hopeless, but I had one more weapon on my belt. It was time to use Dorjan’s lightning ball. I wished he’d had time to assemble more than just the one. I had to make the best of it. Removing it from my belt, I pulled the brass ring and whispered “Torin, Unule, Salama” as I tossed it in the middle of the group moving toward me. I ducked behind a crate from the flash and explosion. Bodies went flying. Screams and yells were cut short as the flash overtook them. I had less remorse with this device — it didn’t take lives, but only incapacitated for several hours.

  My outlook brightened again. I jumped to my feet to head for the exit. As I began to feel my escape was imminent, I saw a movement to my left. A quick glance revealed a man sneaking up between crates, holding something in his arms. He must have been shielded from the blast, although he did look a little disoriented. Unfortunately, he had enough awareness to be able to carry out his intentions. With a fluid motion, he threw the object at me. Alarmed, I watched as it opened up into a large round net, edged with weights. It looked like a giant jelly fish turning in the air above, as it hurled down toward me. I scrambled to get out of its way, but too late. It landed on me. With the momentum of its spin, it wrapped tightly around my body, down to my feet, rendering me helpless.

  I could feel Eshshah’s distress. I convinced her I was not hurt, but couldn’t hide my fear. There was nothing she could do for me, but only stay with me for comfort and support.

  The sound of the key unlocking my cell door woke me. I was still wrapped in the net, having given my captors such a such a struggle when they had tried to remove it. In the end they threw me in the cell, net and all. They did manage to secure the manacles around my ankles before they left.

  I recalled my exhaustion as they slammed the cell door. I had fought the claustrophobia that began to take hold of me. With Eshshah’s help, I allowed my body some rest. She did her best to console me, assuring me that the riders were working to get me out.

  Now, four men stood over me, fully armed. They were taking no chances. My surroundings brought back frightening memories — it was identical to, if not the same cell where I’d found Lord Ansel. That night seemed like another lifetime ago, but the stench of death, vomit and urine brought it back quickly.

  The head guard glared down at me and laughed. “King Galtero wants to use you as an example, boy. An example of what happens when ya don’t respect his hospitality. You’re dirt, boy — not worthy of a candidate. You’ll soon be wishing you already met your ancestors. The king is in the mood for a little sport.” The other guards broke into hideous laughter.

  “So, what’s it gonna be? You want the net off and you’ll come easy, or do we carry you out of here and deliver you in the arena wrapped up?”

  Arena? That didn’t sound good. I stared angrily through the ropes. Maybe it would improve my situation if I started cooperating just a bit. At least until I found out what they were going to do with me. I was ready to have this net off and that wasn’t going to happen if I kept fighting them.

  I gritted my teeth, “I’ll cooperate.”

  “Strong ... and smart. This is gonna be a good show,” another guard said.

  After releasing the net, they shackled my wrists and my feet. With a chain they led me out of the cell. We went up a few levels and down a corridor. They threw me into another cell. I heard a murmur coming from the other side of the wall. Excited voices drifted toward me. A cheering crowd?

  The last vial of the Healer’s dark liquid was still intact in my tunic. I would be needing all the help I could get. Making sure no one was watching, I retrieved it with my chained hands, uncorked it and drained the last of the energizing concoction. I closed my eyes and held back a choking cough as I felt its warmth travel down my throat.

  Eshshah continued to relay my situation to Bern, who was on the communication disc to the Healer. I didn’t want my loved ones to know everything that would be happening to me — it wasn’t fair to put the Healer and Gallen through that kind of anguish. Bern, Avano and Eben had to be at their wits end trying to save me. Time had run out. If things went poorly, I didn’t want the details shared. I conveyed this to Eshshah, who understood, but repeated that she was following the Healer’s orders. She did her best to console me, as I in turn tried to console her. I reminded her one more time that she will need to carry on without me if the outcome would be as we feared — I wanted assurance that she give herself over to Lord Ansel. She promised me she’d do as I asked, but added, “Amáne, I have hope that we will see a positive outcome.”

  “So I will, too, Eshshah.”

  A burly man came to collect me. He led me out a door and through a tunnel. As we headed toward a large metal door, he took out a small vial and shook the viscous contents onto his finger, then spread the pungent salve under his nose. I had only a second to wonder about his actions before the door opened onto a large oval indoor arena. The smell of blood and death assailed me. I gagged. The sand on the floor, meant to absorb blood and whatever foulness took place in this cavern, was so saturated with gore and rotting tissue, that it no longer served its purpose. The stench was overwhelming. I wrestled to control my urge to retch.

  I squinted as we came into to the brightness. The walls were lined with light shields, like the ones in the outposts. The light they shed made it seem like we were in full daylight, although we were somewhere deep within the castle.


  Similar to the hatching grounds, there were tiers of seating around half of the arena — complete with spectators. Unlike the hatching grounds, the seating started high above the ground level where I stood. My guess was that it kept the spectators safe from whatever vile activity the arena hosted. I swallowed hard, and silently sang a battle song to build up my courage. Eshshah hummed with me.

  The guard pushed me to the center of the dirt grounds and spun me roughly to face the small crowd. There were probably a couple hundred people. The fabrics and colors of their clothing showed the majority came from high stations — nobles and well-to-do merchants. Men made up most of the crowd, but there were plenty of women as well. They held handkerchiefs over their noses, or used fans to dispel the fetid odor. I had no doubt they made good use of the salve as well. All were in a seemingly festive mood as if they had come to enjoy a bit of fine entertainment. I knew they were not here for any benign recreation.

  My eyes surveyed the stands. Horror froze my heart when I spotted a small group in the far corner — the candidates. They huddled together with terror-stricken faces as they were forced to watch one of their number take part in some barbaric form of amusement. Even Kemp, the bully from the hatching grounds, looked uncomfortable. My eyes locked on his. He lowered his eyes immediately.

  Standing in chains facing the crowd, my heart beat fast, but I didn’t let any emotion show on my face. A door opened high in the top tier in front of where I stood. Several armed guards came out first, and then a sourness rose from the pit of my stomach as I watched King Galtero enter the stadium. The crowd stood and bowed to him as he descended the stairs to his seat in the front row.

  I stood up straight. My jaw set, I glared at the man as he came down. My guard grabbed me by the back of the neck and shoved me down to my knees. I squeezed my eyes shut to avoid seeing what writhed in the sand beneath me.

  “Bow to the king, you insolent boy!” He growled. He held me down with his powerful hand. I could have broken his hold, if I so wished, but this was not the time. I let him hold me down, knowing this was no show of respect on my part. I hoped Galtero noticed.

  The crowd settled in their seats as the king arranged himself in his. He then directed his full attention to me.

  “Welcome to our little game, Vann of Anbon,” he said. “You grieve me by the disrespect you’ve shown for my generosity. I invited you, along with your small band of candidates,” he waved his hand toward the corner of the stands, “to participate in the great honor of a Hatching. I expected courtesy in return, not an ill-mannered boy running through my halls cutting down my men for amusement.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief because this accusation meant they hadn’t yet discovered the missing egg. Why such the extravagant efforts to punish me, a simple candidate? Was this intended as a demonstration to set me as an example for anyone who dared to cross him, or was there more to it?

  I recalled the heads on the stakes at the city gate and a morbid thought came to mind. I wonder if my head will be joining those.

  “Amáne!” Eshshah pleaded.

  “I’m sorry, Eshshah. I’d be willing to wager, though, that a few of the nobles and merchants here were required to be present for just this lesson.”

  Galtero continued, “You’ve disgraced your fellow candidates and will now pay the price. You will be the example of my displeasure of anyone who wishes to take my hospitality for granted.” He scanned the spectators. Quiet fell upon the crowd as the festive mood became somber.

  I stood silent — meeting his eyes with as much defiance as I could summon. I hoped the fear I felt didn’t show. Silently, I thanked Eshshah. She was my strength.

  “Have you nothing to say to me boy? Will you not plead for your life?”

  Still I remained silent. My eyes blazed at him.

  My guard smacked me in the back of the head. It took a great deal of control to keep from using the irons and chains around my wrists to strangle him.

  Besides leaving Eshshah, my biggest heartbreak, should I not survive this ordeal, would be that I’d never see Lord Ansel again. No matter if he wanted nothing more to do with me. Missing his gaze one last time was a regret almost too heavy for me to bear.

  “Eshshah, I love you. If I meet my ancestors today, please let Lord Ansel know that I did love him.” My throat tightened.

  “And you are a part of my heart, Amáne.” I could feel her struggle to maintain her composure. She knew I needed her to stay calm. “Please forgive me for not being able to come to your rescue. These corridors were not made to accommodate my size and your location will not allow breaking down any walls — you would be crushed.” She was distraught — inconsolable, but she held on bravely for me.

  I breathed in deeply, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Hope, Eshshah. There is always that. It does not disappoint.” A peace came over me. My body relaxed. I resigned myself to my fate — ready to face whatever foul amusement the king had planned.

  Galtero stood up and ordered the game to begin.

  “And to show that I am a fair king, I’ll allow you more of an advantage than you deserve.” A sickening grin distorted his face. “Unchain the boy, give him a weapon and release my pet!”

  My guard turned to me and quickly unlocked my irons. I was relieved in a strange sort of way to see in his eyes that he was not in agreement with whatever was in store for me. He handed me a small dagger and whispered, “I’m sorry, but this is the weapon I was instructed to give you. It’ll do you no good. May you rest in peace with your ancestors.”

  I took the dagger and hefted it. The balance felt good in my hand. The blade was true and sharp. The man turned to leave the stadium but before he took two steps, the grating sound of wheels turning and chains clanking echoed through the arena. The massive metal doors behind us opened. The burly guard shouted in terror as he realized that they didn’t give him time to exit before releasing whatever lay behind that door. He bolted toward the stands.

  Growling, scratching and an additional, yet familiar putrid smell preceded the monster that emerged. Out slithered a lizard-like creature. It was similar to the one that had bitten me when I had rescued Lord Ansel from the dungeons of the castle. Its tattoo-like mark remained on my ankle as a reminder. This one was not the same black creature, but a mottled dirty brown — the color that runs in the gutters of the streets in the mornings. Its large head weaved back an forth on its long neck. The bulbous eyes searched for prey.

  The movement of the guard fleeing for his life attracted the creature’s attention. With remarkable speed for such a large misshapen beast, he fell upon the unfortunate man before he could even swing the sword he had drawn. It wouldn’t have been of much use, anyway. The monster opened his jaws, dripping with venom. In one snap, half of the man was gone, leaving his shield and sword to drop to the dirt.

  I turned and retched as the crowd cheered.

  “Eshshah.” I whispered.

  “I’m with you, Amáne. Do not make any sudden movements. When he gets close to you, lock eyes with him, just as you did with the black one.”

  I surveyed the arena and thought perhaps I could escape the same way Lord Ansel and I had done when the black lizard stalked us. There were some barrels against the wall under the stands and if I could get a running start, I could use them to scale the wall into the stands, jump the railing and take my chances with the guards.

  My escape route was behind the creature, who had just finished feeding. Blood dripped from its maw. He turned his yellow eyes to me. He began to stalk me slowly ... deliberately. I backed up steadily and met his eyes. They were powerful, trying to draw me in, but its pull was not as strong as the black one’s. I had Eshshah’s venom running in my veins, which is what kept me from being drawn in. I planned to lead him in a circle so my back would be toward the barrels. Then when my position was right, I would turn and run for the wall. It worked before — more or less — there was no reason it would not work again.

  In the next breath, fear
exploded in my chest. My head thundered and my tattooed ankle began to burn. Not now! Why was this happening? It was the same pain that had assailed me in Dorsal, when a sorcerer came in search of me many months ago. The timing of this attack was crucial. Any sudden movement would cause me to break contact with the beast’s eyes.

  My pain increased, but I managed to continue in my path, turning the beast. I realized that now, because of the pain in my ankle, it would not be possible for me to run to safety. Arriving at the spot where the guard’s life had ended, I spotted his shield. I blocked from my mind the repulsiveness of what I was about to do. Not leaving the creature’s eyes, I bent over slowly and grabbed the bloody shield. The guard’s hand still clung to the grip, blood still flowed from the severed end. I moved my arm back slowly as the creature turned its attention to the motion of the shield. Then I flung it as hard as I could across the arena. Like a dog that chases a stick, the monster charged after the shield. As soon as it hit the ground, the brown creature snapped it up and began to devour it.

  Something prompted me to look in the direction of the king, who had all this while been shouting encouragements to his “pet.” While the creature occupied himself with his grotesque snack, I allowed myself that glance. My head felt like it would burst. Flashes, like lightning, went off behind my eyes. There, seated next to Galtero, staring intently at me, was another sorcerer — evil twisted his countenance. He looked to be a relation to the one who had met his end in Dorsal.

  I couldn’t mask the agony written on my face. Galtero nodded appreciatively at the sorcerer. I would have no chance against the monster with the excruciating pain the mage inflicted upon me. That certainly added to the king’s pleasure.

  The king stood up, stabbed a forefinger at me and shouted, “So, my sorcerer was correct. He felt your presence in the castle. You are the boy that entered my dungeon several months ago and stole my esteemed prisoner!”

  I was taken aback. How did he know?