by Melvin, Jim
“I hate to admit it, but you gentlemen are a handsome lot,” he said. “I’m proud to be a member of your party.”
In unison, their jaws dropped. Though Lucius had been much better behaved in recent days, they must have considered this the nicest thing he had ever said to them.
“See, Bard,” Ugga said. “I told ya Master Loo-Shus was a good guy.”
“Ya were right all along,” Bard agreed.
Lucius chuckled. “You kind of rub off on a person, Ugga. Even in times of sorrow, you manage to cheer everyone up. When you’re around, it’s hard not to be nice.”
Elu leapt up from his chair and hugged one of Lucius’ legs. “Elu likes you too. It’s wonderful to have such great friends, who’ll always take good care of each other.”
“Speaking of taking care of each other . . . here comes lovely Bonny with more ale,” Rathburt said. He turned to Lucius. “She may dress like a man, but she’s every bit a woman underneath, I’d surmise.”
“Why, Master Rathburt . . . I didn’t know you were such a charmer,” Bonny said. “But if you are trying to win my heart, it’s too late. I am quite taken by the yellow-haired gentleman. What a looker!”
Rathburt feigned disappointment, but he obviously was amused. Ugga and Bard slapped their knees. Once again, Lucius was speechless; his face turned as red as Bonny’s scarf.
“He doesn’t talk much, does he?” she said.
“Not unless he’s got something to complain about,” Rathburt said ironically. They all laughed, including Lucius.
“I’m sorry, my lady,” Lucius finally managed. “I’ve spent so much time as a soldier, I don’t know how to act around women—especially one as fine as you.”
“Good one, Loo-shus!” Ugga said. “Say something else nicey to her, and ya will be bedding her in no time.”
For the first time, Bonny’s face reddened, which Lucius assumed didn’t happen often. “Oh, my . . .” was all she said, and then she trotted off—but not before glancing back at Lucius and winking.
After she left, the men guzzled more ale and congratulated Lucius on what appeared to be the start of a successful seduction. Even Rathburt got into the act, describing in intimate detail his secrets of how to pleasure a woman in bed. They all laughed, louder and louder. Elu ended up rolling around on the floor, hugging his legs against his chest.
How quickly his friends were able to rebound from tragedy amazed Lucius. The terrible occurrence between Jord and the dragon earlier that evening had failed to dampen their spirits. Perhaps it was the wizard’s doing, for sounding so convincing that Jord would return.
In the midst of the mirth, two more approached—and their appearance stunned them all to silence. Laylah and Torg stood before them. The sorceress was dressed in a long-sleeved blouse of white silk with tight-fitting black trousers and knee-high boots. A crimson sash with gold embroidery and fringes was wrapped around her waist. The wizard wore a black coat with button pockets and cuffs and a pleated back. He also sported black trousers with high boots. A sky-blue scarf was wrapped around his head and tied in the back. The Silver Sword hung at his waist in the scabbard he had obtained in Kamupadana.
As a couple, they were so beautiful it amazed even Lucius. No one seemed able to speak. Finally it fell to Bonny, who was returning with another pitcher of ale, to break the silence.
“Lordy . . .”
Torg and Laylah sat down in the two remaining chairs that had been arranged around the hearth. Each picked up a mug of ale and took long sips, but they continued to gaze at each other with twinkling eyes, making Lucius uneasy. When Bonny refilled his mug and again kissed him on the cheek, Lucius felt a whole lot better. Would his life be so bad if he ended up with someone like her instead of Laylah?
The pirate woman left the room and returned with the innkeeper.
Rakkhati bore a wooden tray crowded with bowls of fragrant custard that he told them were made with chicken broth, rice, and goat’s milk and garnished with seeds of anise, which were good for digestion. Bonny’s tray held several loaves of dark bread along with chunks of salted mutton.
Rakkhati had said that the food in Duccarita would be less palatable than the ale, and he was right—but not by much. After having spent weeks in the wilderness, the simple meal enthralled them. They ate ravenously, and when they finished, not a spoonful of custard, a crumb of bread, or a shred of mutton remained. Afterward they drank more ale, while Rathburt smoked sweet-smelling tobacco from the pipe he had pilfered from the Mogol camp.
When the meal was cleared, Rakkhati and Bonny drew up two more chairs and joined them. Though the others were becoming drowsy, Lucius noticed that Torg was on full alert, as if something very important was about to occur. Not wanting to be outdone, Lucius sat up too. But the others, including Laylah, seemed too sleepy to pay much attention.
“Lord Torgon,” Rakkhati said, addressing the wizard with a level of respect that Lucius found impressive, “am I free to speak in front of your companions, or should the three of us—”he nodded toward Bonny “—retire to a more secluded location?”
With these words, the rest began to pay attention. None of them, it seemed, wanted to be excluded from important matters.
“You may speak freely,” Torg said.
Rakkhati nodded. “Very well. Allow me to tell you what I know. First, the streets are active. The battle in the skies has stirred the pirates.”
Reminded of the tragedy, Ugga and Bard lowered their heads.
Rakkhati took notice of this and then continued. “Usually, even the bravest among us do not venture outside after dark, unless it’s to sprint from one tavern to the next. After all, there are thieves, and there are thieves. Some only steal from those who reside outside the city’s walls, while others make their living robbing the robbers. Still, that is not the worst of it.
“Many things roam the streets in the darkness, and some are not human. Creatures lurk in the crannies and alleyways, pouncing on their victims with murderous intent. It is not unusual to be awoken from sleep by screams, but most of us just check the latches on the shutters and press our pillows against our ears, hoping the horrors of the night don’t find their way into our own bedchambers. Remember, Arupa-Loka is only ten leagues away, and its evils frequent the City of Thieves . . . to feed. There are vampires, demons, trolls, and ghouls among us—and they are always hungry.
“But the worst are the ruined Daasa, who have escaped the slave pits and live on the streets like wild dogs. These rogues remain permanently in their heinous state, and they are not pleasant to encounter. Even the monsters give them a wide berth, for they are more powerful and dangerous than mountain wolves. I am a strong man, well-trained with sword and bow, but even someone like me would be hard-pressed against such beasts.”
“Rakkhati is right,” Bonny said in a cold tone. “The streets are dangerous. I have wandered them myself.” She lifted her waistcoat and undershirt, revealing a nasty scar on her abdomen. Then she turned to Lucius, and her playfulness returned. “The rest of me is still fine to look at.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Lucius said, and then reflexively glanced at Laylah, who appeared amused by the tête-à-tête.
Torg gestured toward Rakkhati. “Continue . . .”
“Yes, lord,” the innkeeper went on. “I was first sent here by my superiors almost twenty years ago, and since then I have spoken with many and seen much. I am trusted—at least as trusted as anyone can be in a place like this—and my establishment has earned the reputation as a haven of sorts. In other words, if you pass through my doors, the odds are less than usual that your throats will be slit in your sleep.”
Bonny chuckled. “You can thank me for that.”
Rakkhati nodded. “There is truth in her words. She is much stronger than she looks.”
The more the innkeeper spoke, the more annoyed Lucius became. He had obeyed Torg’s wishes and entered Duccarita willingly. But now the whole affair seemed like folly.
“All along,
you’ve been saying that we must avoid Duccarita, and all along I’ve agreed with you,” Lucius said, surprising the others with his vehemence. “But then this Jord creature appears out of nowhere and changes your mind. And now we’re even worse off than before. With the eagles gone, how are we going to escape? Rakkhati says there are more than just thieves wandering the streets, but there are more than just monsters too.
“Golden soldiers and other servants of the sorcerer frequent Duccarita. And what if Invictus finds out we’re here and pays a personal visit? If that were to happen, everything else that wanders the streets will seem like fuzzy little bunny rabbits. So please enlighten me: How do we get out of here?”
Rakkhati’s eyes widened, Lucius’ unexpected outburst obviously stunning him. “Would you have me silence him, lord?” he said to Torg.
Lucius tensed and started to stand, his face feeling flushed and swollen, but Torg reached over, quick as a snake, and placed his hand on Lucius’ knee. Instantly, a surge of soothing energy slid up his thigh, and his body went temporarily limp.
“I would not have you silence him,” Torg said to Rakkhati, while still looking at Lucius. “He does not yet know me well enough to be aware of who I am.”
Torg removed his hand, but Lucius still found it difficult to move.
“Allow Rakkhati to finish, and then I will reveal my intentions.”
Lucius nodded.
The innkeeper appeared puzzled. “These are indeed strange times when one such as he can be permitted to speak thusly to a king of kings.”
“Strange doesn’t begin to describe it,” Rathburt added.
Rakkhati raised an eyebrow, then continued. “As I said before, I have become well-connected within the City of Thieves and have learned a great many things that others do not know. The importation of Daasa slaves from across the ocean has increased every year. It used to be that slaves were brought here from all over the north: fishermen from the coast of Akasa, settlers from the borders of Dhutanga, savages from Mahaggata—”at that, Elu scowled, “—and villagers from the banks of the Ogha. But more recently, the slave traders have become obsessed with the pink-skins. There are obvious reasons for this. Avici desires them by the tens of thousands and pays in gold. And the Porisādas also covet them, for their flesh is said to be tender and sweet. But these are not the only reasons. Have any of you ever heard rumors of the Mahanta pEpa?”
Lucius spoke again. “I once heard Mala say those words.”
At the mention of the Chain Man, Rakkhati leapt to his feet and drew a dagger from his belt. Before he could attack, Torg sprang up and wrenched the weapon from his grasp. The dagger dropped to the floor and stuck point-down in the hard wood. Rakkhati stared at Lucius, his eyes wild and angry.
“Who is this man?” the innkeeper said to Torg.
“All you need know is that he is a trusted companion,” the wizard said. “If you threaten him again, I will do more than squeeze your wrist.” Torg released him and returned to his chair.
Lucius settled back in his seat, but his heart was pounding. Laylah seemed shaken. Rathburt looked like he wished he were somewhere else.
In an attempt to diffuse the tension, Rakkhati faced Lucius and bowed his head.
“I apologize for my behavior. It’s just that I do not take the mention of Mala lightly. The Chain Man has visited Duccarita on several occasions, and he was terrible to behold. When you spoke of him in such a blithe manner, it . . . shocked me.”
Lucius grunted. “Don’t think that my previous association with Mala means I respect him. There are few, if any, on Triken who hate him more than I.”
That seemed to satisfy Rakkhati. He drew the dagger from the floor and replaced it in his belt. Then he sat back down. “When you heard Mala speak those words, did he tell you their meaning?” the innkeeper asked.
“No. But it seemed to me that he said them with reverence, which is highly unusual for the Chain Man. About the only thing he respects is Invictus.”
“I know the meaning of the words,” Torg said. “But I have never associated them with Duccarita until Jord described the wickedness that holds sway over the Daasa. In the ancient tongue, Mahanta pEpa means Great Evil.”
“In the City of Thieves, those words hold special meaning,” the innkeeper said. “As Jord must have already told you, the Mahanta pEpa resides somewhere within our walls—and is rumored to have done so for decades. But I do not believe it was born here. Like the Daasa, the Great Evil came from across the ocean, and like Avici and the Mogols, it hungers for the flesh of the pink slaves.”
Rathburt finally spoke, though his voice quivered. “Lucius is right. Weren’t we already in enough trouble? We’re being harried by an army of monsters, but instead of running away, we come to a place where an even more hideous creature holds sway. Do you really think we can destroy it?”
“I am not to be taken lightly,” Torg said in a steely tone. “I have chosen to come here to destroy the Great Evil that resides within the City of Thieves. Have you forgotten Jord’s words already? If the Mahanta pEpa is destroyed, the Daasa will be freed.”
Then Torg turned to Lucius. “How will we escape Duccarita, you ask? On the heels of an army . . . your army.”
7
TORG RECOGNIZED the amazement in Lucius’ face. A lot had been sprung on the firstborn in a short time, but Torg knew no other way. The forces of good needed allies.
Elu was first to break the silence. “Tell us your plan, great one.”
Torg looked down and smiled at the Svakaran. The tiny warrior had the spirit of a Tyger.
Rathburt interrupted his reverie. “If it means leaving us here while you go off gallivanting again, then it sounds good to me. We’ll stay by the fire and drink the rest of the ale. Come and get us when you’re finished.”
“I is going with Master Hah-nah!” Ugga said. “There’s no way Bard and I will let him go off by himself.”
“No way,” Bard agreed.
“They’re right,” Laylah said. “You had better include all of us, even Rathburt.”
Torg chuckled wearily. “My friends . . . let me tell you my plan before you so readily decide to be a part of it. From the beginning, it depends on whether Rakkhati and Bonny will agree to it. Without them, we cannot succeed.”
“Bonny and I are at your service,” Rakkhati said.
“Very well,” Torg said. Then he looked the innkeeper squarely in the eyes. “Can you lead me to the Mahanta pEpa? I want to destroy the creature—whatever it might be—before dawn.”
“I can show you the way,” Rakkhati said, though his voice trembled.
Lucius shook his fist in anger. “Why are you so certain that killing the Mahanta pEpa will free the Daasa? Just because Jord said so? And even if she was right, how can you know what will happen next? I’m not so convinced that the Daasa will instantly be at our beck and call. Rathburt’s right when he says this is madness.”
“In these dire times, I am certain of little,” Torg said. “But I have quickly come to believe in the words and wisdom of Jord. The demise of the Great Evil will release the might of the Daasa. Whether or not we can control them is another matter. But I have faith in you, general. You were born to lead the Daasa.”
“I’m glad you’re so confident in me,” Lucius said sarcastically. “But I have no idea how I could even begin to get them to follow me. As far as I knew, Invictus was the only person in Avici who could make any sense of their whistles and squeals.” Then he turned and spoke to Rakkhati directly, as if to ward off another confrontation. “And believe me, I’m no Invictus.”
“If Jord were still with us, our task would be simpler,” Torg said. “She would be able to communicate with them in ways we cannot. But when the great fall, the lesser must take their place. Lucius, you will not stand alone. Bard, Ugga, and Elu will be at your side, as will Rathburt. As a group, you’ll find a way, even without Jord to guide you.”
“There is something else you must know,” Rakkhati said to Lu
cius. “We cannot understand what the Daasa say, but they seem able to understand us. So maybe, yellow-hair, your task isn’t quite so impossible.”
“That’s good to know,” the firstborn said, with even more sarcasm. Then he swung back on Torg. “You left Laylah’s name out of the mix. Does that mean you intend to take her with you to hunt down the Mahanta pEpa? How can you love her and still be willing to put her in such peril?”
Laylah started to protest, but Torg interrupted her.
“Until Invictus is destroyed, we are all in peril—and Laylah more than any of us,” Torg said. “I would much prefer she be kept from danger of any kind, but the creature I intend to slay has powers that in some ways might be greater than mine. I will need Laylah with me. Her magic is also strong. Maybe she can find a way to defeat the Great Evil, if I cannot.”
Laylah was torn between conflicting emotions. Torg’s faith in her thrilled her, but Lucius’ constant meddling enraged her. She owed the firstborn her life, but she no longer owed him fealty. She had never intended to cause the general pain, but her love for Torg had grown stronger than her guilt. It was time Lucius stepped aside.
“And what if it’s more powerful than both of you?” she heard Lucius saying, rising from his chair. “How are you going to feel if . . . ”
“LUCIUS!”
Laylah shouted his name, with supernatural fury. The force of it knocked the firstborn off his feet back into the chair. The fire also reacted to her emanation, blazing from the hearth and scattering cinders across the floor. A particularly large one fell into Bard’s beard and began to sizzle.