“But it isn’t just the people,” Danella went on. “Where are the chickens, sheep, or pigs.”
“They’re in shelter for goodness sake,” Mansel said.
“But you can’t hear them. You can’t even smell them. It’s as if they aren’t here. A village this size should have animals.”
Mansel didn’t reply. He knew Danella was right, but he couldn’t imagine why there seemed to be so few signs of life. The village was dark and quiet, but the fortress was well lit and strongly defended.
“Perhaps they’re all in the keep,” Mansel finally offered. “Perhaps the duke has brought the locals into the fortress for safety.”
They approached the low outer wall that surround the compound. Ebbson Keep was essentially a large, ancient watchtower, but there were a few other buildings connected to the tall structure. The duke’s armory, barracks, and various out buildings were surrounded by a low wall of stone that was covered in snow.
“Who’s there?” said a gruff voice from just inside the compound.
“I am Mansel, and this is Lady Danella. We are from Orrock with messages for the Duke from King Zollin.”
“Zollin? Never heard of him,” said the gruff voice. “You’ll need to come back in the morning.”
“Our messages are important. Your lord will want to hear them.”
“I’m sure he will… in the morning.”
Mansel wanted to argue, and would have if he had any proof that he was really Zollin’s messenger, but there was simply no way to corroborate his story without the dispatches he had lost.
“We’ll be back at dawn,” Mansel said through clenched teeth.
“We’ll be here,” the guard said.
Mansel turned and led Danella away from the fortress.
“Are we going back to the soldiers?” she asked.
“No, there’s no comfort there. We should try to find an inn.”
They found two inns, but the doors were locked and there was no light from the many windows. Only a few homes in the village showed any signs of life, and in the end, they took refuge in an abandoned barn on the outskirts of town. There was hole in the roof, so Mansel built a fire. They huddled close to the fire, doing their best to warm up their cold, exhausted bodies, and waited for sunrise.
When the next day dawned the sun was out, and the sky was a light blue. The snow was dazzling in the sunlight, and soon water dripped from the eaves of the houses throughout the town. Mansel and Danella passed through the village again, confirming the fact that it seemed abandoned.
When they reached the fortress they were met by two burly guards, who escorted them inside. They climbed staircase after staircase until they finally arrived in a small anteroom where they were told to wait. Over an hour later the door finally opened and a soldier escorted them into a large open space. In the center was a table with a map of the Five Kingdoms and surrounding lands painted on the polished wood. Duke Ebbson, a heavily built man with a thick beard and a penetrating gaze stared at them.
“Do you really expect me to believe that the boy wizard is now king?” he said, his voice loud and angry.
“My lord,” Mansel said, taken aback by the duke’s fury. “I can assure you that Zollin has taken control of the kingdom in an effort to bring stability and safety to the people.”
“He’s a fool,” Duke Ebbson snarled. “Oh, I was taken in by his charm, as I’m sure many have been. You, for one. But he has done nothing for Yelsia but bring harm and destruction.”
“What do you mean, my lord?” Danella asked.
“Who are you?” the duke demanded.
“I am Danella, of Orrock.”
“The king’s betrothed? Is this some kind of joke? Do think I would take orders from a woman, even if I believed she was engaged to King Hausey? The king is dead, the kingdom is in chaos, and I will not leave this keep undefended.”
“My lord, we have come to help you in your fight. Zollin is coming. He is coordinating with King Lorik of Ortis so that we can divide the forces in Baskla.”
“Since when is Baskla our enemy?” the duke raged. “For over a century Baskla has been our staunchest ally. My father and my father’s father have stood guard over Yelsia’s eastern border. I know my enemies, and they do not lie in Baskla, but in Orrock.”
Mansel simply didn’t know what to say. He stood staring at the duke, who looked strangely manic, despite his finely tailored clothes and well-polished weapons. The big windows that gave a view north, east, and south, were closed and a fire was burning brightly in the fire place. The duke was red faced, but Mansel saw no strong drink that might have brought the color to his cheeks. He paced relentlessly back and forth, like a caged beast looking for a way out.
“I’m sorry, my lord,” Mansel said. “My dispatches were stolen. But the king orders you to prepare your men to join the army and help us defeat the evil in Baskla.”
“Of course he does, but I shall not send my troops on some fool’s errand with a wizard who cannot protect us. My men shall remain here, where we belong.”
“Zollin will come,” Mansel said. “He shall come and make all of this clear, I assure you.”
The duke’s eyes narrowed and he leaned across the table, his face twisted into a sneer of pure hatred.
“If he does, I’ll have his head on a pike for stealing my daughter,” the nobleman snarled. “I’ll hang him by his entrails and feed his flesh to the vultures.”
Mansel realized he had his hand on his sword and forced himself to relax. Something was wrong, although the young warrior had no idea what the duke was talking about. Still, he had done all he could do, and now he would have to wait on Zollin.
They were ushered back down to the ground floor and shown the way out of the keep.
“What now?” Danella asked, once they were out of ear shot of the guards.
“Now we wait on Zollin, and hope he can make sense of all this. I certainly can’t.”
“Or we could leave,” Danella said. “You’ve delivered your messages. Come south with me. There is nothing for us here.”
“I will come with you, if that’s what you want,” Mansel said, trying to convince himself he had pure motives and not some misguided infatuation. “But not until I have helped Zollin ensure that Yelsia is safe.”
Danella looked disappointed, but didn’t reply. They walked slowly in the noonday sunlight, enjoying the warmth that had long been absent in the world. When they got back to the barn where they had left their horses and supplies, they prepared a quick meal from the food stored in their saddle bags before going back to the military camp. The soldiers seemed restless, but there was very little to do but try to stay warm in the freezing cold. Mansel went back to the command post and was forced to wait outside. The large tent was guarded by half a dozen soldiers, all trying to stay warm while doing their job. A small fire was burning nearby and a few soldiers stood close to the bright flames. Mansel and Danella joined them as they waited to be admitted.
“You’re the king’s wife,” said one of the soldiers after staring at Danella for nearly half an hour.
“No,” Danella said in a quiet voice. “We were never married.”
“He died too soon. Commander - I mean King - Hausey would never have led us into this mess,” said another of the soldiers.
“What do you mean?” Mansel asked.
“I shouldn’t have said anything,” said the soldier, after his companion hit him in the shoulder to quiet him.
“He’s just cold is all,” said the first man.
“You served with King Hausey, before he became king?” Mansel asked.
“In Felson, with the light cavalry,” said the soldier. “I fought with him against the dragon. And with the wizard too. The commander always saw to us before he looked after his own comforts. That's not the case these days.”
“Why aren’t you taking shelter in the town?” Mansel asked.
“We’ve been told the town is off limits,” said the soldier. “We don�
�t have no say in it.”
“I'm sorry,” Mansel said. “That's unfortunate.”
“We do as we're told,” said the soldier, his face a mask to hide his emotions.
Mansel nodded, not really surprised. It seemed to him that there was tension between the army and Duke Ebbson, although Mansel couldn’t guess why. It was nearly three hours before Mansel was called into the command tent. He understood that being forced to wait was a way of letting someone know that you were displeased or that you were superior in some way, but Mansel thought the commander was being excessive. At least until he was ushered into the command tent to find Homar and Brogan huddled with the young commander, then things began to make more sense.
“Mansel, how was your reception with Duke Ebbson?” the commander asked with a knowing smile. “Did he welcome you in with open arms?”
The two nobles and the other officers laughed. Mansel felt his face flush with anger. He was an outsider, he understood that fact, but he’d never been treated so rudely, and certainly never without a response in kind. But Mansel didn’t reply to the officer, he took their jokes at his expense and stayed calm, even though it took all of his resolve.
“How is your man, Ighar?” Danella said. “Up and about after his beating I suppose?”
Mansel wanted to shush Danella, and at the same time he wanted to cheer, but he stayed quiet. Brogan stepped toward the girl, his hand flexing on the ornate handle of his dagger. Mansel had seen the cruel look of men who beat women before, and he felt his anger growing. The cowardly noble let other men fight his battles while he took his own weakness out on the innocent.
“He was forced to stay behind, but I doubt he minded too much,” Homar said. “The innkeeper’s daughter was nursing him back to health. Have you come to tell us you’ve changed your mind? My offer to bring you under my protection still stands.”
“We’ve come to enlist your aid in convincing Duke Ebbson to prepare for battle,” Mansel said. “He is refusing to leave his stronghold.”
“You mean your messages from the king,” the commander said the last word with unconcealed vitriol, “didn’t convince him?”
“Commander Siddon is my cousin. Did you know that, Mansel?” Homar said with a gleeful expression in his eye that reminded Mansel of a spoiled child tormenting a puppy. “Oh, you probably didn’t realize it since you come from such a backward village like Tranaugh Shire. I do know about you, however. I know that you killed three of the King’s Royal Guard. I know that you made off with King Hausey’s betrothed. What I don’t know is exactly what kind of scheme you are concocting now.”
“It’s no scheme,” Mansel said. “You were in Orrock. You heard Zollin outline the danger here. It’s why you’ve come.”
“I have no recollection of anyone named Zollin other than the outlaw wizard. My understanding was that the nobles were gathering to select a new ruler.”
“In Ebbson Keep?” Mansel said. “Now who’s scheming. The other nobles won't go along with your traitorous plans. And Zollin will hold anyone who foments rebellion accountable.”
“You will not address the nobility in such a manner,” Siddon snarled angrily. “You come here with claims you can not substantiate. None of my soldiers will follow you, nor your sorcerous friend.”
Mansel moved closer to Danella, his body tense and ready for a fight, but the officers didn’t move and the nobles only glared at him.
“Zollin will come,” Mansel said. “Then you’ll see that I’m telling the truth.”
“Until then, do not bother us with your lies. Remove yourself from the camp,” the commander ordered. “Or I’ll have you removed.”
“You can stay, of course,” Homar said to Danella. “No need to be painted with the same brush as this miscreant.”
Danella didn’t answer, but turned and left the tent. Mansel slowly followed her, ensuring that the men inside made no move to harm them. Outside the wind was blowing and the sun was falling toward the horizon. The soldiers gave them sympathetic looks, but there was nothing they could do to help. Mansel felt a growing sense of despair as he and Danella made their way back toward the abandoned village of Ebbson Keep, as if the war had already begun and his side was losing… badly.
Chapter 25
Zollin enjoyed riding a horse and he didn’t mind the solitude. Zane was a well-trained mount and didn’t seem bothered by the snow. A well-worn track ran along the coast. It wasn’t quite a road, but it was wide enough for a wagon and far enough from the shore that sand dunes blocked a lot of the wind that blew in off the ocean. It was cold, the air filled with the briny smell of saltwater, yet despite the wintery conditions, Zollin enjoyed his ride. He stopped frequently between the dunes to stare out at the sea, searching for any sign of Roleena’s ship or the monster that had attacked the other coastal cities.
His biggest concern was that the monster would skip Bonom Bay and attack Selphon City. Zollin would rather face danger than face the fact that he had been needed but failed to arrive in time to help. Zane plodded on, moving slowly northward, and Zollin sat on the sturdy horse, trying not to worry.
They reached Bonom Bay late in the afternoon. It was a much smaller town than Selphon City, or even the other harbor towns further up the coast. Sailors making their way south could follow the coast which ran east and west from Angel’s Shelter to the Twin Cities. From there it curved due south and many ships changed course to save time, turning southeast and skipping the towns along the inner curve of the coast. Bonom Bay was a natural harbor in a small nook where the shore jutted out to sea. It was ideal for fishermen, who could ply the waters between the bay and the Twin Cities with less risk of foul weather.
Zollin could smell the smoke from the drying the racks where fish were salted and preserved, long before he reached the actual city. Eventually he saw the tall masts of ships in the bay, and then finally the snow-covered buildings. Bonom Bay was laid out with one main road that ran north and south. On the western side of the road, the coastal side, there were buildings and shops that catered to the sailors. Everything from sail weavers to fish buyers and all the usual distractions for thirsty sailors had buildings along the street. On the opposite side were the structures for the permanent residents, as well as an inn for merchants who traveled by land rather than across the seas.
Zollin rode his horse to the inn and secured a room for himself and shelter for his horse. Then he spent an hour standing by the large fire, letting the heat soak into his frigid body until he felt human again. In the common room of the inn he heard the gossip about the sea monster. There was tension in the air, and Zollin could feel the fear of the residents through his magical senses.
Unlike when he arrived in Selphon City, Zollin had his magical shields firmly in place and was on high alert. He studied every person he saw for any sign of hostility. His magic spread out around him into the dark corners and hidden nooks where an assassin might hide. Zollin knew that it was possible the Mezzlyn didn’t have operatives in Bonom Bay. The city was small enough that it wasn’t listed on most maps, yet every sailor who plied the coast of Yelsia knew the city, and many merchants favored the smaller port because it saved them a day’s travel down the narrow strip of land between the coast and the Rejee Desert. They might pay a bit more for goods in Bonom, but they more than made up for that surcharge by being a day closer to inland communities where they could sell those goods.
As the day ended, more locals came to the inn for ale, food, and most importantly, gossip. Zollin took food, but no wine or ale. He drank water and stood near the small window that faced the main street. He could see the harbor between the buildings on the opposite side of the wide avenue, but everything seemed calm.
As the night wore on, Zollin was tempted to sit down and relax, but he forced himself not to let down his guard. In his experience, bad things happened when he least expected them. The crowd behind him were well into the cups and he heard their snickering at his expense. They were afraid, but they thought he was eve
n more afraid and so they made jokes. None of them knew who he was or what he was capable of, and Zollin didn’t mind being a point of distraction for the locals. He wasn’t wounded by the barbs and his ego didn’t need to be inflated by the locals.
The first sound of danger sounded almost like thunder. There was a crack that was reminiscent of lighting. Zollin looked to the sky, but it was clear, the stars mere pinpricks in the black expanse overhead. A crash rolled across the water of the bay and echoed through the long main street of Bonom Bay.
“It’s here,” said one of the men.
Zollin turned and saw a room full of frightened faces.
“The sea monster,” said another, his voice full of terror.
“To your harpoons, men!” demanded a red-faced fisherman.
“No!” Zollin shouted. “Stay here! Stay away from the harbor.”
“Who the hell are you to order us around?” said one of the locals, a big man with a bushy beard and a large stomach.
“I’m Zollin, Wizard of Yelsia.” He raised his hand as blue magical energy crackled up his arm and arced over his head into his other hand like a miniature electrical storm. “I’ll deal with the creature, look to your families.”
He turned, his magic spreading out around him to ensure that none of the people in the inn followed him, or worse, tried to attack him from behind. He felt a sense of purpose and strength that was both empowering and surprising. He realized as he walked through the torch-lit street toward the harbor that this was what he was born to do. Zollin had no idea where his magic came from, or why he had been given so much while others had none at all, but as he walked toward the sounds of ships being destroyed and sailors screaming in terror, when everyone else was running the opposite way, he knew he was right where he was supposed to be. He would stand between the innocent and the savage, between the aggressor and the helpless, to shield and support the people of Yelsia, perhaps even all the people of the Five Kingdoms.
Controlling Chaos (The Five Kingdoms Book 12) Page 17