by M. R. Polish
The woman came closer, her brown hair swayed as she walked. “Sorem, follow me,” she said curtly before turning on her heel, leaving him.
“I guess I follow,” he said under his breath. “Be good, Syreth.”
“Don’t worry about me; I’ve got plenty to keep me entertained.” He ended with an umph, as a little boy slid down his face, laughing.
Sorem shook his head and took off after the young woman, finding her parting branches of a low tree that revealed a dirt path. He followed her through the overgrown trail leading away from the crowd. With Aquaistra being tropical, it was moist and it definitely gave the locals an advantage when growing crops. Vast trees with flat blades for leaves towered over them, swaying in the breeze. He could smell the salt from the sea and longed for his home near the mountains. Everything about this trip made him anxious to go home.
Up ahead, a large dome-shaped building rested on a knoll. It wasn’t as big as the fortress where he lived in Sendar, so he assumed this was a building for only one family. The outside was covered in smooth rocks and small blue tinted windows were decoratively placed around it in a spiral pattern. Sorem walked behind his guide as they climbed the dirt trail higher to the front entrance.
She opened the door and motioned for him to come inside. The air inside was cool, still heavy, but not nearly as humid and hot as outside. The scent of the salt water clung to the air, making Sorem wrinkle his nose.
Sorem watched his escort carefully, not wanting to lose her in the home. She went directly to a set of descending stairs along the left wall. He stepped down after her. They went about twenty steps before he noticed lamps staggered on the walls burning brightly and he could see no more windows. Finally, the stairwell ended revealing an underground hall with many rooms branching off.
The woman was still quiet, with only her footfalls to be heard. Sorem couldn’t help but think that maybe coming to talk of peace was wrong. She led him to a large room with many lamps hanging from the walls like the ones in the stairwell, lighting the room brightly.
“Marex will be here shortly.”
Before he could say anything, she was gone. He looked out of the room down the long tunnel but couldn’t see her so he turned back into the room. Located directly in the middle of the ceiling was a large glass domed window. Water that had to be from the entrance pool shimmering above him was visible through the glass. The stairs must have not only gone down below the ground, but under the water as well. He hadn’t realized they walked that far. Sorem watched as the Mariserba leaves moved in the water. A large yellow fish swam through the long green blades of the plant, oblivious to the man who walked under it. Never before had he seen a room as enchanting as this and he smiled as he looked around at the rest of the room.
A large, white fur rug lay on the floor. It looked to have belonged to a snow beast from the far northern territory. He saw a few of them in his life’s adventures but none that big. Walking over to where a lamp sat fixed against the wall, just above a table, he could see where maps and old parchment papers rested. Reaching out, he felt the heat radiate from the flame, almost burning his fingertips. He retracted his hand then sat down in a chair made from branches and woven leaves. He relaxed and continued to watch the water ripple with the current above him.
“Sorem.” Marex’s gravelly voice filled the room as he walked in. His white hair fell down past his shoulders, with a long beard that matched in color. His life’s journey etched into every wrinkle on his face.
Sorem stood up, holding his hand out to shake the old man’s. “Marex. It’s good to see you.”
The woman that was his escort came back into the room behind the old man, her arms folded in front of her. Sorem’s curiosity peaked and he raised an eyebrow. “Aw, my escort returns. From the looks you were throwing my way I was beginning to think I wasn’t here for peace talks after all.”
She narrowed her eyes. “My name is Regina. Marex asked me to sit in because I’m his granddaughter and only living heir. I will take his place as leader of our nation when he dies, so he thinks that I should be here for this conversation.”
Sorem sucked in a deep breath. Great. He didn’t like thinking that she would be who he’d have to deal with in future years. Her stance and attitude belied a sort of pride that usually got in the way of what was right. “By all means, milady,” he said as he held out his arm, gesturing to the other chairs.
With a harrumph, she brushed past him, her shoulder hitting his stretched out hand as she moved. She sat in a chair with more grace than he thought she would have, considering her attitude. He began to re-evaluate his earlier classification of her as beautiful. Somehow, her sour attitude made her look far less appealing to his eye.
“Just breathe,” he heard Syreth tell him. He bit his tongue, not wanting to forget why he was there in the first place. He didn’t need to start a new war by chiding the heir to Aquaistra.
“Easy for you to say,” he thought back. “You’re out there in the open playing with children and I’m closed in here with the hostiles.”
The heavy burden of ceasing the war pressed harder on his shoulders as he felt the heat of her glare on his back. Why am I doing this? It would be easy to stay at war with them. They hated his people anyway and with her reaction to him, it was obvious that it started close to the top. Maybe peace wasn’t an option right now. Then again, Marex wouldn’t have accepted his invitation to talk and promise that his warriors wouldn’t kill him on arrival, if he was completely opposed to peace.
On reflection, Sorem couldn’t remember seeing any warriors in the crowd outside. No dragons or riders either. Perhaps Marex didn’t trust them to behave, or he didn’t want to give away any numbers, but it did strike Sorem as strange.
Out of respect, he waited for Marex to sit before returning to his seat. “Thank you for accepting me.” Sorem stared at the older man, hoping to see how he truly felt about him being there. All he could feel, however, was Regina’s arrogant, hatred filled aura. He held his body taut, ready to defend himself if necessary.
The old man’s eyes lit up. “I am honored that you came. My time in this life is limited. Every day I wake, I wonder if it will be my last. I am old and haven’t been well. We need peace and an end to this war in my lifetime. That way I can say I did at least one good thing before I died.”
“I agree.” Sorem was glad to hear that and let himself relax a little, but only a little. He felt exposed under Regina’s hard stare in just his leather vest, pants and copper armbands. Her glare scorched his skin.
With her arms still folded, she spoke up but her voice sounded more like a growl. “I am against my grandfather’s wishes for peace, but I have enough honor to follow them. I want you to know how I feel.” Her nostrils flared as she clenched her jaw.
“Regina.” Marex may have been old, but his voice still rang with authority, and it boomed so loud that it bounced off the stone walls. “I am not dead yet. You will hold your tongue or leave.”
Her face hardened under the chastisement. She stood up, her lips tight in a scowl. “One day the Santerrians will regret taking that dragon. You will regret everything.”
Marex landed a fist down on the arm of his chair. “Regina, you will leave!” Two guards stepped inside the room and attempted to escort her, but she shrugged them off.
“I can walk,” she seethed, glaring at Marex. She marched from the room with them following close behind her. Their blades held out in front of them, forcing her to keep moving.
“I hope you’ll forgive my granddaughter’s fury. I have raised a warrior, not a young lady, it appears. She wasn’t around when the first battles broke out, but her heart is hard. Her parents were killed in a raid, but then again, so many others have died on both sides. She doesn’t see peace, she only sees blood. As long as I live, there will be peace. After that, I cannot promise.”
Sorem nodded his head. “I want peace too. I might be new in this position, but I will lead Santerrian with hopes of reconciliati
on with all of Aquaistra. Our forefathers started this fight, we should end it.”
Marex smiled and nodded. “I was only a child but I remember that year. None of our warriors survived the Vetaunex and only a few Santerrian men made it out alive.” His jaw clenched a little before loosening it to continue. “The silver dragon was a prize worth killing over.”
Sorem hung his head. “My father swore that it wasn’t Santerrian warriors that killed the others. He had no idea they didn’t survive until after he returned home with the dragon.” He shifted in his seat, suddenly a lot more uncomfortable. He kept his head down but lifted his eyes to meet Marex. “It has gone so far past dragons that now we fight over mere ounces of palmarium.” His voice cracked a little as he continued. “I grow weary already even at my young age and want my daughter to grow up without war. Marex, I want to make peace with you. This was our fathers' fight, mine is now gone, along with yours. We can end this, at least for a time.”
Marex nodded. “I will already die with too much blood on my hands. I don’t need any more.” He stood and Sorem followed him.
“I’ll return to my land and let everyone know about our peace with each other. Let’s hope you live much longer.” He clasped his hand on Marex’s shoulder. “Thank you, my new friend.”
Regina left with the guards and exited the abode, only to lose them in the crowd that still gathered around Sorem’s dragon. Her heart ached for her people. They only had ten left. Dragons held such prestige, that no matter whose dragon, they were idolized and cared for. She watched as the children climbed on him and brought him waterberries. The men talked about his size and how the blue of his scales shined. She wanted to throw a spear into his neck and kill him, but only because he belonged to Sorem. Anger boiled under her skin.
Fifteen years ago, the Santerrians attacked Aquaistra on a raid. Their isolated world violated by the Santerrian dragon riders. Even though she was only six years old, she could still remember the smell of smoke and burning flesh as the dragons breathed fire on their homes. Both of her parents died.
A wicked smile played on her lips as she recalled the news of the arrival of Sorem’s daughter. This could work in her favor after all. She would create a hole in his heart, the way his people did to hers. Quickly, she headed to the Den behind her grandfather’s house, slipping through the trees, careful not to let the guards see her.
Damn peace to hell. She didn’t want to live in peace. Peace wouldn’t come until every Santerrian died. She’d seen the destruction and evil and couldn’t let it go. This was her home, and she would defend it until death. Almost fifty-two years ago all their warriors that went to the Vetaunex died. Only Santerrian warriors survived and they came out with the first and only silver dragon––the only one known of in all of history to leave the Vetaunex.
Her nostrils flared the more she thought about it. They were murdered—she knew it deep inside. The Santerrian warriors wanted the dragons to themselves, especially that one. It was probably an Aquaistrian Warrior that tried to bond with the dragon first. She clenched her fists as she walked. They deserved to die. Peace that her grandfather wanted wasn’t justice and she would see to it that it never happened.
She wouldn’t let her nation fall into the same trap as before, to have all their warriors taken to slaughter. The next Vetaunex would hopefully be coming soon and this time, they will be the ones to come out victorious.
Sneaking through the entrance, she went to the back of the dimly lit Den where dragons and their riders stayed. It was more of a cave than a building, dug out of the earth in the hillside. She knew he would be there. “Cica, where are you?” she whispered, careful not to wake the sleeping dragons. She could hear the rumbling rhythm of their heavy breathing as they slumbered. As much as she revered them, they scared her just the same.
“Well, well, milady Regina. What can I do for you?”
She twisted around to see Cica standing behind her. A scar ran down his face and bare chest, ending just under the waist of his leather pants. He was lucky to be alive. He barely made it out of the Vetaunex with his dragon, Amoth, three years ago. He was the only one from Aquaistra that year to make it back.
He survived over a month before almost becoming prey to the wild terrain and dragons. While trying to bond with Amoth, the dragon tried to shred his body with its sharp claws. Luckily the bonding happened before Amoth actually finished the job and killed Cica. Amoth then took Cica and flew away from the Vetaunex and toward the pull of Cica’s homeland, Aquaistra. When he arrived on the island, Cica could barely breathe, barely surviving the entrance tunnel. The shaman shook his head solemnly, unsure how long Cica would live. Amoth refused to leave his rider’s side and made it impossible for anyone to move Cica from the Den. After two weeks of intense sage and spirit mixtures from the shaman, Cica was able to sit by himself, disfigured, but alive.
Regina smiled sweetly and swayed her hips as she sashayed toward him. Her hand went to his face and traced the scar all the way down with her fingertips. “I need to get to Santerrian.”
He grabbed her around the middle and pulled her close. The smell of mint came from his mouth as he spit out the leaf he chewed on. “What do I get in return, love?”
“The same as always.” She ran both her hands up and down his chest, pressing herself closer. “I also need an alibi.” Her whisper came out thick.
He raised an eyebrow. “An alibi? Regina, what evil plan have you conjured this time?”
“By tomorrow, just make sure everyone knows that I was with you all night.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.
“And ruin your reputation?” He chuckled.
She slugged his shoulder. “Damn you, just do it, okay?”
He held his hands up in surrender. “What time should I expect you?”
She winked. “Not long.” She didn’t wait for him to interject before leaving the room. Her heart broke with what she had to do, but she would do whatever was necessary for the survival of her people.
After slowly circling the house to make sure she wasn’t followed, Regina quietly descended to the underground area of her grandfather’s house. She could hear the water outside hitting against the walls with the current. She slowed when she came close to the main area. Lifting her hand, she pushed back the door. It was the same room where she brought Sorem earlier. There were three rooms that branched off and she headed for one of them. Her eyes darted around looking for any sign of movement. The soft soles of her boots helped make her entry silent as she stepped slowly inside.
A ripple of water overhead shimmered with a reflection around the room. Regina slipped past the first room without looking inside. She knew he wouldn’t be there. He would be in the back, in his favorite room, a hidden one behind a door that blended with the stone wall; it had many windows that let you look out into the depths of the water.
Reaching down, she grasped the blade she kept strapped to her leg. Her heart pounded as adrenaline rushed through her veins. The palm of her hand began to sweat, so she rubbed it on the leg of her pants.
Creeping past the second room, she stopped outside the entrance, and leaned back against the cool wall. Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself this was the best thing for her people.
She took one more breath then darted into his room. Unseen arms grabbed her from both sides. She struggled against their strength. “Let me go!” A hand squeezed her wrist and thumb harshly until she had no choice but to drop her knife. Clink. Her heart tightened as the dagger hit the floor, the reality of the situation sinking in her mind. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.
She stopped fighting against her captors and dropped to her knees. Her arms were still held tightly by the guards. “Granddaughter.” She looked up as her grandfather stepped into view.
She glared into the eyes of the only blood family she had left, the man whom she just planned to kill. Her mouth drew into a tight line. What could she possibly say to him? Sadness swam in the deep blue pools of hi
s eyes but she was unable to look away.
“I wondered how long it would take you.” He walked to a chair next to one of the underwater windows and sat down. Adjusting his long silver robe, he let out a sigh. “If it weren’t for Cica, you might have succeeded.”
At the mention of Cica’s name, her eyes darted around the room. Her stomach twisted in a knot. Would he really betray her? She couldn’t believe it. He wanted revenge as much as she did.
One of the hands on her arm tightened.
“Owww.” She grit her teeth and struggled once again to escape the grasp that held her.
“It will do you no good to fight back,” her grandfather’s voice filled the room. “I will be kinder to you than you would have been to me, because you are my son’s daughter. I will not bring dishonor to his memory.”
Her head jerked to meet his gaze. She could feel the depth and meaning of his words and it stung her heart. “Honor? You talk about honor, but you lead our people to slaughter. My father would be saddened to hear of peace between the Santerrians and us. He died because of them.” After straining to pull herself free to no avail, she relaxed again, knowing that fighting against their strength would be useless. She was no match for two experienced warriors.
“No, Regina. Peace will bring safety and a sense of wellbeing to the people. Our people deserve to rest, it is time.” He stood and walked to her, stopping just inches away, and reached out to touch her cheek, but she jerked her head away before his finger made contact.
He motioned to the guards with a flip of his hand. “Take her.” As the guards tugged her to her feet and pulled her toward the entrance, she looked around in a panic.
Movement in the darkness of the room caught her attention. “Wait. Stop!” she pleaded, and tightened every muscle, making it hard for them to pull her away.