Amáne of Teravinea - Black Castle (The Teravinea Series Book 4)

by D. Maria Trimble

  I didn’t like being waited on, but truthfully, I couldn’t have managed to exit the tub without her assistance. Mora’ina wrapped me in a thick robe and guided me back to my room. She helped me into a chair at a chamber table where a tray of small cakes dipped in honey and a serving of tea had been placed. A small vial of a dark liquid sat beside the tray.

  “Small eat, now. Big meal in dining hall. Take.” She picked up the tray and offered me its contents. I chose a cake and pushed it in my mouth. Mora’ina nodded in approval. The cake was sweet and light. Closing my eyes, I enjoyed the delicate flavor. I followed it with the tea she poured. It was a bit annoying having her hover over me, nodding at every bite I took, but I did my best to ignore her.

  After I’d devoured several cakes, Mora’ina picked up the vial, uncorked it and put it in my hand. “Vann must drink. Make Vann strong. Dragon men wait long time for talk.”

  “They’re waiting for me?”

  Mora’ina nodded. “Take now.” She nudged my hand that held the vial. “Take tea after.”

  I hesitated, alternately eyeing the vial and then her. I brought it close and took a sniff. My eyes squeezed shut, my nose wrinkled. I glanced up at the native girl, who dipped her head expectantly.

  As if she read my mind, she said, “Not poison. Drink.”

  Closing my eyes again, I held my breath and tipped the contents back. It was like swallowing fire. The draught burned a path down my throat. I broke into a coughing fit. My eyes teared as I fought to breathe. Just as quickly, the discomfort left. I felt a surge of strength fill me. My fatigue dissolved, my mind cleared. Hope soared momentarily, but the dark liquid did not bring back my lost past.

  I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth and turned to Mora’ina. “What was that?” My voice came out in a hoarse whisper.

  “Magic herb from Great Healer of far kingdom, Tera-vin-eiya.”

  “It was more like liquid fire,” I said. But truthfully, it had done wonders.

  She nodded and said. “Now Vann fast put dress.” She held up a beautiful blue gown.

  “What is this?” I said. “I don’t dress in such extravagance.”

  Mora’ina wouldn’t hear my protests. Without another word, she had me wrapped in the silky fabric.

  They must not have anything else for me to wear.

  I found the gown quite uncomfortable. Not only because it was so confining, but more that I felt out of place wearing it. I ran my hand along the fabric. These are not the skirts of a commoner.

  I moved away from Mora’ina’s fussing over my dress. “Thank you, Mora’ina. Whose clothes are these anyway? They seem to be made for someone my size.”

  The girl nodded as she buckled a narrow belt around my waist then handed me a pair of slippers.

  She rushed me to the other end of the inn and we entered the dining hall. Long tables with benches on either side took up the room, occupied mostly by men and a few women in uniform — obviously soldiers. Others were dressed similar to Braonán and Avano — dragon riders.

  Heads turned at my entrance. I froze as I took in the noisy hall. One or two rose from their seats and began to bow. They caught themselves straight off and sat quickly.

  It must be a common reaction to bow whenever a female enters a room. Why did they then decide not to?

  Shaking my head, I tried to back out of the room. Mora’ina had a firm hold on me. Avano stepped forward, “Vann, it’s all right. These are all your friends.” He turned to face the group and said, “Dragon riders, soldiers, meet Vann.” He put extra emphasis on my name.

  They all smiled or nodded and pronounced various greetings. The room buzzed with their well-wishes.

  I blew out a few short breaths, swallowed and worked at placing an appreciative smile on my face. Words wouldn’t form, so I curtsied.

  For a fleeting instant, I caught a look of shock on a couple of the riders.

  “Vann,” said Braonán, “let me show you the proper response to dragon riders. No need to curtsy. Place your hand like this.” He put his thumb and forefinger together to form an “o.” The other three fingers remained straight, as he put his hand to his heart and saluted.

  “This is the dragon salute. It is all that is needed. It’s also how to greet and show respect for our dragons.”

  Still standing stiffly at the doorway, I saluted the riders as I’d been shown. A couple riders flinched and seemed like they were about to return the salute.

  Avano led me to an available bench. “Please join us. I’m sure you’re as hungry as we are.”

  I stepped over the bench, trying to take my seat in a lady-like manner, cursing the gown as I adjusted it around me. Avano slid in to my right.

  It dawned on me I hadn’t any idea of how long it had been since I’d eaten, besides the few bites of the cakes Mora’ina had brought. The aroma of the foods wafted toward me.

  There was something about the comfort of food and the appeasement of hunger that put me in an amiable mood. I found myself laughing with the riders at my table, like I’d known them all along.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Slowly the room thinned out as the group finished their meals and excused themselves. Only a handful of us remained in the dining hall.

  I moved my knife in circles around the gravy left on my plate, brooding about my next move.

  Where am I to go? How do I remedy my situation? What of Ansel Drekinn?

  A rider entered the room.

  “Braonán, Avano,” he said, “the Healer is back on the communication disc. She is anxious to speak with ... uh, Vann.” He shot me a concerned glance.

  “Thank you, Eben, we’ll be right in,” Braonán said.

  Braonán turned to me, “Vann, let me explain what you’re about to see. Dragon riders have a way of communicating from a distance. That is, besides riding our dragons that distance and meeting in person. We use a device called the communication disc. You may not know that our dragons have names, and the meaning of their names manifests in their scales. In other words, Eshshah, for instance, means fire. You’ll find that if you hold one of her scales and whisper, ‘Eshshah,’ the scale will create a flame.”

  He smiled at my incredulity, but continued his instruction. “One of us riders, Gallen, had a dragon named Gyan. His name meant knowledge. Gallen created this device with his dragon’s scales. Speaking the name, Gyan, and then the name of the rider we wish to contact, allows us to communicate with that rider just as effectively as if in person.

  “The Healer, who holds a high position in our court as healer and advisor to the king, has asked to speak with you. She would like to assess your ... condition.”

  I wondered if she was the Great Healer Mora’ina mentioned. My stomach quaked.

  Braonán continued, “Don’t be alarmed when you see the communication disc. The only way I can describe it, is it’s like seeing your reflection in a mirror, but it will not be your face staring out. In this case, it will be the Healer, who is located far away.”

  I nodded.

  Avano and Braonán ushered me through a door to an anteroom off of the dining hall. A man was speaking. I caught a part of his conversation. “Sovann informed us Lord Ansel is adamant we make every effort to save her.”

  A female voice responded, “We can only hope she’s not already lost ...”

  She cut her statement short when I entered.

  Avano took my arm and led me to the far corner of the room. A device hung on the wall. A thick glass disc, about two hands-width in diameter, was mounted on a wooden background. Behind the glass, an inlay of three dragon scales were set in a triangular formation. Below the glass disc, a brass knob protruded.

  “Thank you, Calder,” Avano said. “If you’ll move to the right and keep hold of the knob, I’ll let Vann stand here in front.”

  The device was mounted at a level more suitable to the men’s height, but if I stretched to my fullest, I could peer into it. The glass reflected a rather striking lady, possibly in her fifties. I noted
her kind expression, but also recognized she was someone with whom one would not want to displease. Her eyes bore into mine.

  I gasped. It was a bit unsettling gazing into what seemed like a looking glass and not seeing my own face. Although, at the moment even my own face was hardly familiar.

  My throat tightened at the concern that registered in her eyes. A man stepped into view beside her. A nice-looking man, about the same age, with long blonde hair.

  “Healer and Gallen,” Avano said, “let me introduce Vann.” Again, he held my name for longer than I felt necessary.

  I curtsied. “Lady Healer, Sir Gallen.”

  Avano cleared his throat. “They’re both dragon riders,” he said out of the corner of his mouth.

  “Oh!” I said. I saluted them in the manner I’d recently learned. Their smiles warmed my heart.

  “Pleased to meet you, Vann. I hope that you’re feeling better. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

  “No, m’lady”

  Her eyebrows drew together, slightly.

  “Vann,” the Healer said, “do you remember how you came to be at the inn?”

  “Yes, m’lady. That is, some of it. A noble named Ansel Drekinn came to the castle where I’d been a prisoner. I believe he may have been searching for someone. Instead he found me. The lord stayed in exchange for my freedom. I don’t know why. Do you know of him?”

  “What do you recall of your time at the castle?”

  “Only that I awoke in an oubliette and the guards hoisted me out and took me to the king.”

  “King?”

  “Yes. King Galtero.” I swiped a strand of hair from my face.

  The Healer’s eyes opened wide as her attention was drawn to my hand. “Do you know what happened to your finger?”

  “No, m’lady”

  I gripped my deformed hand and held it to my chest.

  “May I ask you a question, Lady Healer?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Can you heal me? Can you give me back my past?” I didn’t mean for my voice to tremble.

  A shadow crossed her face. “I’m afraid, Vann, you’re suffering from a condition call amnesia, a loss of memory. Yours is a rare case, indeed. It’s not common to lose one’s entire identity. And to complicate matters, you are ... that is, you have an additional ... connection ... a link ...” She halted her discourse. “I’m sorry, but it could be damaging to rush, or try and force your memories. Your recollections must come in a natural sequence, internally, from your own state of awareness. You have to take it slowly.” She let out a sigh. “Fortunately, the majority of amnesia cases resolve themselves within a few days. Let’s hope you find yourself in that company.”

  “Is it possible I may never recover my memory?”

  “Like I said, we will hope you make a full recovery.” Her expression became more serious. “I’m told you won’t allow Eshshah close to you,” she said.

  I pressed my lips together.

  The Healer nodded slowly.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  While Braonán stayed and spoke with the Healer, Avano escorted me out of the anteroom. He gestured to me to take a seat at the table where we had recently eaten.

  “Who is the lady you need to save?” I asked.

  He gave me a questioning look.

  “I heard them talking about saving someone, and the Healer said she hoped she was not already lost. Do you have a plan to find this lady? Is she on the island? And what about Lord Ansel Drekinn? Do you have the egg of which the king spoke? Is it a dragon egg? That’s what’s needed to win him his freedom, correct?”

  “Whoa. Too many questions. I can tell you this much, we had formed a plan to find ‘this lady’ But, when Eshshah announced ...” Avano stopped and appeared to choose his next words carefully, “...announced a ... a misfortune had befallen her rider — the lady — plans ... er ... changed. We were forced to go forward with an alternate strategy. It was not one in which we riders agreed. The king could not be dissuaded. He insisted he would go directly to Galtero and negotiate.”

  “King? Who? You’re telling me Ansel Drekinn is a king also? What ...? Why...?” I swung my leg over the bench and jumped up. Pacing the floor, I raked my fingers through my hair.

  “How is it I, a commoner, am involved with a royal, no two royals? Why would King Ansel exchange himself for me?”

  “First of all, King Ansel is not a king, also. He is the king. Galtero is not a king at all. Secondly, common born or not, you were a captive of Galtero. King Ansel negotiated for your freedom. Vann, I’m afraid too much information may not do you well. I’ve told you enough. Perhaps too much. You heard the Healer. For now, we need to take caution on what we reveal.”

  He rose and stood before me, preventing further pacing. “There is something I need to discuss with you.”

  “What?” My shoulders tightened.

  “It would be to our advantage if you could help us.”

  I looked behind me over my right shoulder, then my left in a dramatic show. Placing my hand on my chest, I locked eyes with Avano. “You’re asking for my help? With what, exactly? I have no skills that I know of. You do understand I have no past? I gaze in the looking glass and a stranger stares back at me. How could I ever be of any help?”

  “Can you fight?”

  “Fight? You mean use a sword?”

  “Or a spear, a glaive, any kind of martial arts? Would you be willing to ride a dragon?”

  “Ride a dragon?” I nearly choked. “No! To all of the afore mentioned. Why would you ask such questions?”

  “I’m asking because I want to see how you answer, Vann. How do you know you can’t fight? That you don’t have the courage to get in a saddle? Have you given up? You’ve already resigned yourself to the fact you can’t help?”

  “That’s not it. I just ... I ... Do you have any idea what it’s like for me? What I’m going through?” My voice quavered.

  “Move on, Vann. Don’t sit back and do nothing because you’re feeling sorry for yourself!”

  Anger sparked hot in my blood. I opened my mouth to spew every kind of insult at him.

  Avano held his hands up in surrender, then said, “I’m sorry. I’ve overstepped my bounds.” His eyes fell for a breath before he brought them up to meet mine. “Truthfully, I think you are capable of more than you know.”

  My shoulders dropped. I heaved a loud sigh of frustration and shook my head. Thankful I hadn’t said what I felt like saying, I allowed my heart to slow its beat.

  Maybe he’s right. Maybe I have given up.

  Closing my eyes, I tipped my head back. A tear escaped.

  In a quieter voice, I said, “I wake up in a hole, half mad, with screeching voices exploding in my head, my finger severed,” I raised my left hand in front of his face, “my memories gone. Some man I don’t even know traded his freedom for mine. A king, no less. And now I find you think I’m capable of taking up a weapon, or sitting atop a dragon.” I threw my hands up.

  Avano let out a long breath. “Yes, that about sums it up.”

  Some man? Did I just call King Ansel Drekinn ‘some man’?

  I slumped down to the bench and put my head in my hands. “I need to know who I am.”

  “I’m sorry, Vann. That, I can’t give you. We can’t force your memories.”

  I sat in silence for several moments, feeling Avano’s eyes on me. Lifting my face, I straightened up and said, “Fine. I’m not without my own sense of duty. I owe it to King Ansel Drekinn. Get me a weapon, I’ll do what I can — short of riding a dragon. I’d planned on helping you anyway.”

  Avano jerked his head back. After a pause, he broke into laughter. “Of course you did,” he said, “of course. I expected as much.”

  He summoned Mora’ina and instructed her to find me some suitable clothes for sword practice.

  Turning to me, Avano said, “Meet me on the practice field.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Avano handed me a spear. A str
aight two-sided blade on the end of a pole, half-an-arm’s length taller than I. A crossguard jutted out below the base of the blade. I hefted it, then executed a couple of practice thrusts and cuts. My actions surprised me.

  How would I have known the moves I just made?

  Avano raised an eyebrow. “I wanted to let you get the feel of this glaive. I’m pleased to see you’re comfortable enough with it.”

  He took back the glaive and placed it on a nearby wagon that held a number of other weapons.

  “We’ll be practicing with these wooden spears. They have round blunts on the end. We’ll also use wooden wasters instead of real swords. I need to see what you can do with a spear as well as a sword.”

  He turned back to the wagon. “I’ve also brought some armor that may fit you. It’s not your standard armor. Under the leather exterior, these pieces are crafted from dragon scales. The toughest material available.”

  I admired the worked leather. He detached a corner of the front piece and lifted it. I gasped at the dragon scales underneath. They shimmered ember red, the same color as Eshshah.

  “I’ll help you,” he said. “Let’s start with your leg pieces. The greaves for your shins, poleyn above the greaves, cuisses go on your thighs.”

  He helped me don my breastplate, then picked up the pieces for my shoulders.

  “Those are pauldrons, aren’t they?”

  I knew the name. I smiled.

  “Very good,” Avano said.

  The other pieces didn’t come to mind as he named and secured rarebrace on my upper arms; couter for my elbows, the vambrace below that.

  The helmet was like a leather skull cap, but also constructed with dragon scales between two supple layers of leather. Straps buckled under my chin. Avano showed me a small lever near my temple, that when pushed down, a pair of protective lenses lowered over my eyes.

  “These are dragon scales, treated and polished to perfect clarity,” he said.

  I pulled on the most comfortable gloves, which Avano assured me were more protective than any gauntlets found in regular armor.