“Oh, Mae’Lee’s fine,” Paymer whispered. “She sleeps a lot. Not as much as you, that’s for sure. I mean, dead people don’t even sleep as much as you.”
Arlon pointed at his ear. “And…her—“
“Hearing? About the same.”
“No…improvement?”
“Nope.”
Arlon’s heart sank. It must’ve shown on his face.
Paymer tapped his left arm. “But, hey…cheer up, pal. She spends every waking moment right here. Right here at your side. She’s been worried sick about you.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Arlon made a supreme effort to lift his head. He didn’t make it very far. Trilyra plopped down beside him and offered him some water. He couldn’t get enough of it.
“Hey, take it slow. Listen…I’ll bet my bow you’re hungry enough to eat your own shoes.”
He scrunched up his face and licked his wet lips. “Well…I probably was hungry. Til I woke up…and smelled that dead fish.”
She chuckled. “Well, don’t judge that dead fish until Doodle has worked his magic.”
“Doo…dle?”
She motioned towards someone he couldn’t quite see. “Doodle. He’s one of the crew. He’s in charge of the cooking.”
“And entertainment,” the captain added with his gravelly voice as he strolled up and stared down. His sun-kissed skin might as well have been red leather and his long splotches of black and gray hair couldn’t seem to make up their mind which way to blow in the fickle breeze. “Good to see ya almost up and at it, laddie. Welcome aboard the Father’s Warning. I’m the captain of this creaking, leaking old gal, but most just call me Birch.”
Arlon forced a smile. “Thank you…captain. And that’s…a very interesting name…for a boat.”
Paymer leaned right into his ear. “Oh boy, you had to say it! You had to say it!” he whispered with a smirk.
The old sailor pushed the wayward strands of hair out of his well-creased face and sat down. “My father worked his fingers to the bone out on the water. Fishing. Hauling. Sun up to sun down. He told my brothers and me that it weren’t no life at all for one of his sons. He told us to work the land, not the river or the sea. He said, ‘You can’t build a house on the water, boys.’ So, you know what I did soon as I was strong enough to tie a knot?” He paused with a gleam in his eyes. “I spent every waking minute on the river. She became my life. These waters became my wife. That’s for sure. And when old Birch could afford his own, I bought me a boat. I could still hear my father’s warning ringing in my ears. It only seemed fitting then to both honor him, and maybe mock him just a little. Pap’s been gone eight years now.”
Arlon forced a polite grin and tried to ignore his burning shoulder. “That’s quite…a story.”
Birch laughed himself into a coughing fit and slapped his own skinny thigh. “Oh, that’s nothing! I got more stories than your red-topped friend there’s got freckles.” The captain’s attention drifted over to Arlon’s arm and bandages. “Speaking of stories, looks like you lived through a mighty bad one. That’s for sure.”
Arlon shivered a bit as his fever began to return. “Uh…yeah. It was…pretty bad.”
“Well, a little river air in your lungs and some fresh grub in your belly should set you on a fair track.” He looked away and cupped his hand around his mouth. “Doodle! What’re you doing?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Put that hammer down and pick up your knife! Our paying customers need your famous sustenance! That band around the mast can wait ‘til morning, but our bellies can’t.” Birch leaned closer. “He’s a bit of a dilly-dally, but Doodle’s come a long way. Lost his own family a good while back. He’s been with me three years now. Now Scrimper…Scrimper’s been my right hand man for twice that long.” He pointed over his bony shoulder. “He’s back yonder. Manning the rudder. He’s good as they come. Quiet as a tomb and as dependable as the sunrise. Now Doodle…he yaps all day long. If words were coins, we’d have a pile of golden royals higher than old King Mandibar ever dreamed of. A whole mountain’s worth. That’s for sure.”
Arlon’s fever was racing higher and higher. He closed his eyes and the whole world seemed to spin.
Birch barely paused long enough to take a quick breath. “So, where do you call home, laddie? Where is your party headed?”
“Listen, captain,” Trilyra interrupted rather abruptly. “My friend is very tired and needs to rest. Some other time. Some other time.”
Birch rose up. “Just trying to be friendly to the paying customers,” he grumbled. “Don’t mean no harm, that’s for sure. Doodle! I don’t smell any smoke. Get that fish on the grill before it spoils!”
She knelt down. “He’s been that way, every day. All day. The only relief we get is when he sleeps. Which is only for a few hours at a time.”
Arlon imagined that he formed some kind of smile as he nodded his sweating and swimming head. But he couldn’t be sure. Trilyra, and Birch, and the smell, and the pain, and the sailboat all faded into the garbled distance.
The sun itself became as black as night.
CHAPTER 34
She could see the lush beauty gracing the green banks of the gentle river.
She could feel the tickle of the cool breezes that played across her cheeks.
She could smell the stifling blend of raw fish mixed with filthy sailors that confronted her nose with every breath.
But Mae’Lee could not hear.
Not even a single sound (except for exceptionally loud noises such as the powerful slap of an oar across the flat water or Birch’s shouts from a few feet away).
Life had become a beautiful yet silent painting. But, in spite of her difficulties, everyone had been wonderful to her, especially Trilyra. The wary warrior from the South had kept the Princess constantly informed with a ready pen and a stack of paper. Mae’Lee had also grown quite adept at figuring out people’s words by studying their lips. At times it was obvious that they were talking about her, and she would turn her gaze elsewhere on purpose. In her heart, she knew that she could never blame them. They were already in a horribly difficult situation, and her condition just made things that much harder.
Mae’Lee folded her arms and strolled along the open deck in the cool of the morning on their third day aboard the Father’s Warning. The rising sun gilded the river with traces of sparkling gold while silhouetting a handful of fishing boats that drifted past on the east. She wished that she could hear the splash of the nets as the busy sailors cast them far out upon the teeming waters. Mae’Lee imagined hearing the cackling cries of the hopeful birds that hovered above like a playful cloud while the fishermen hauled their flopping prizes aboard.
She pulled in a deep breath during a yawn and imagined the continuous sounds of the slapping and lapping of the river upon the hull of their ship as it gently rose and fell. Sometimes the lonely Princess would grab the lower edge of the main sail to just feel the wonderful vibration as the thick cloth rippled and danced with the winds. It wasn’t sound, but it felt like sound.
She glanced over at the motionless form of Arlon sprawled across a bench and her heart suddenly pounded in fear. She scrambled over to him and laid her trembling hand on his chest.
Thank the Zho! she thought with relief. He’s alive. Arlon is breathing.
He…is…still…breathing.
Barely.
Troubled thoughts about this intriguing boy were never far from her worried mind. Everyone knew that the bite of a Dragon was fatal. And fatal every time. She prayed over and over that this bandaged, blond-headed Dunamai would be the lone exception in all of history. But as the days wore on, her flames of hope had dwindled down to just a bed of glowing coals.
Mae’Lee relocated her fingertips to his glistening brow.
And he is hot. Still hot with that dreadful fever.
It took her less than a few seconds to snatch a scarf and plunge it overboard into the cold water streaming by. She quickly returned
with the dripping rag and dabbed his face before trickling a small stream into his dry mouth. Arlon had done so much for her. She could not bear the thought of this mysterious friend from Soteria languishing in uncertain misery with an uncertain future. Unfortunately, Arlon’s tender care and kindness during her own illness was little more than fleeting images and murky memories. Whatever pieces she could remember, she saw him, but she couldn’t remember very much.
Mae’Lee dropped down beside him and stared into his face.
You were there.
You were always there.
Always.
She wiped the damp scarf across his forehead.
And I will always be here…for you.
That last stray thought caught her by surprise. The Princess mulled it over a few times as she wiped his hot face and neck. In her mind’s eye, she recalled their less-than-perfect introduction.
You’ve been through a lot, young man. When I first saw you, you were just a slave chained to a stone bench. A blue-eyed slave who was being punished.
Her scarf snagged on the thin silver chain hidden just beneath his shirt collar. She looked around. There was no sign of Birch, and Scrimper was at the back of the boat showing something to Paymer and Mogg. She began pulling on the chain very carefully and discreetly.
You were in such trouble.
And all because of this necklace.
Mae’Lee lowered the captivating Rone amulet into her palm and caressed the priceless jewel.
A very lovely necklace.
She raised it ever closer to her inquisitive face.
A real, one of a—
FLASH!
Absolutely everything went white.
And she could hear!
Sounds. Loud sounds.
Screaming. Yelling. Commotion.
What’s going on?
A long, thin wooden bridge pushed gradually through the bright, blinding mist. A bridge suspended over an unimaginable deep gorge. And soldiers? Hundreds of Avdirian soldiers marching across. With weapons.
Those are my father’s warriors!
What are they doing?!
A stone fortress came into view.
Alaithia?! The Firebridge?!
It was a slaughter. The soldiers hacked and stabbed dozens of cloaked figures rushing out towards them. The horrified Princess tried to look away, but it felt like she was being forced to watch the sickening spectacle.
The Sevasti?!
Why would my father’s soldiers be killing the Sevasti?
A menacing shadow rippled across the scene. And blasts of strange fire. Dark fire.
Nightfire?
The Dragon!
Oh, no! The Dragon!
WHITE FLASH!
Mae’Lee blinked rapidly and tried desperately to get her silent bearings. She glanced around with watering eyes, surprised to discover that she was now sitting on the ship’s deck with Paymer and Mogg kneeling beside her. Trilyra rushed up and offered her a pen and a piece of paper.
Mae’Lee shook her head before shoving it all away.
CHAPTER 35
Birch raised both of his bony hands to wipe the hair out of his squinting eyes as he pushed past the main sail and took up a position at the bow. He peered into the hazy distance.
“There…there,” he said with growing excitement. His right hand pointed upstream. “That miserable excuse for a river town…Headwaters.” The captain whirled back around. “We should make port in three, maybe four hours. Bout midday. If fair winds prevail.”
Trilyra nodded. “Finally…some good news.”
“I’ll have Doodle fix us a right proper meal so you don’t leave hungry,” he announced.
“Thank you, captain,” Paymer replied. “For everything.”
Birch smiled with a subtle nod as he strolled past. “Gotta take care of the paying customers. That’s for sure.”
Mogg waited for him to move out of earshot. “The young man’s condition approaches death. What is the distance to the Northern Elders?”
Paymer looked around and kept his voice down. “According to our map, Alaithia is probably two days by foot. At the north end of the Isos Pass. In the Common Lands.”
“It is an ill thought. The young man will not survive two days,” Mogg protested. “He may expire before this day closes. We will need horses.”
“We need three horses,” Trilyra added. “I will take the Princess with me. Arlon can be strapped to you, Paymer.” She glanced over at Mogg. “That keeps you free to lead us…and defend us. In case of trouble. And trouble does seem to follow us.”
“Will we still have enough money for three horses after we pay the captain?” Paymer asked with a fair amount of skepticism.
Trilyra squinted. “There will be enough to pay for the horses. Or we will simply…borrow them.”
_____________________________________
The air grew considerably colder.
The terrain grew considerably steeper.
Arlon’s condition…considerably poorer.
Mogg kept them riding at a challenging (yet barely manageable) pace, halting only long enough to water their animals at a few gurgling streams that descended out of the rocky highlands beginning to jut up all around them. At Trilyra’s urging, Mogg had collected a significant bundle of broken tree branches and dried grasses at each of their stops. She reminded all of them that the Firebridge would need fire. And fire would need wood. And trees were getting scarce as they meandered to higher elevations.
“Do you think it’s enough?” she inquired.
“I don’t think the amount of wood is what’s important,” Paymer replied. “At least, that’s what I heard as a kid growing up in Orania.”
Trilyra brought her horse alongside his. “What else have you heard?”
Paymer’s thoughtful gaze drifted up into the night sky. The largest moon had just slipped into a wide hole in the center of a fractured spate of clouds. “There are stories about the kings of old who chopped down huge sections of the forest here in the Common Lands. They supposedly brought entire caravans filled with stacks of trees. Legend has it that some of them built fires that shot flames almost taller than the mountains.”
Trilyra’s eyebrows rose up. “So, did they get the attention of Alaithia? Did the Sevasti swing the Firebridge out?”
He rolled his head to the side. “Not always.”
“Really?”
“Well, so the legends say.”
She paused. “You’re not making me feel any better about our chances.”
He shrugged apologetically. “I’m just telling you what I’ve heard. Who knows?”
Mogg looked back. “Why do you call these the Common Lands?”
“Oh,” Paymer began, clearing his throat in the evening chill. “Well, that’s because three of the Five Kingdoms border this area. Orania, Soteria, and Avdira. They all meet right around here. There was a treaty that was signed a long time ago. It decreed that the land just south of Alaithia would be shared by all. The common lands. That way, anyone could come to Alaithia without fear.”
Mogg was silent for a few moments. “Even the Kray?”
Paymer shot a quick glance over at Trilyra. “Uh, yes. It is well-spoken,” he replied. “Even the Kray.”
_____________________________________
The wandering bands of patchy clouds gradually gave way to a pristine sky, littered with sparkling stars and all ablaze with the pale radiance of triple moons arrayed in a straight line, more or less. The broad, treeless path before the tired travelers grew noticeably steeper, yet far less rocky and the air began to thin out. A towering, snow-laced peak rose into heavens in the distance beyond the top of the challenging ridge they were ascending.
Mogg crested the slope first and brought his exhausted horse to a sudden stop. “By the Red Leaf,” he mumbled in fascination.
Paymer, with one hand steadying the unconscious form of Arlon, charged the last few difficult yards and drew alongside his captivated friend. “Whoa,
” he gasped. “Just…whoa.”
“Well, save some for us!” Trilyra teased as she gently kicked the sides of her horse and leaned forward. Mae’Lee clung tightly as the two young women lunged ahead and finally popped over the ridge. Trilyra eased back on the reins and took a deep breath as her eyes widened. “It is true,” she whispered slowly.
Mae’Lee patted Trilyra’s shoulder with great excitement and gave her a series of long hugs.
“You’re right…it is,” Paymer replied. “You know, it’s kinda freaky…when something that you’ve always heard about, and dreamed about, and then…well,” he thrust his arms out. “It’s right there. Right there.”
“It’s, uh, it’s even bigger than I imagined,” Trilyra admitted.
Mogg’s squinted. “We have found the Northern Elders?”
“Yes. It is well-spoken,” Paymer responded with a subtle nod. “This is Alaithia. To the Kray…the home of the Northern Elders. To the Vice...the Sevasti.”
The group abandoned their single-file caravan, and instead rode the last few hundred yards side-by-side in a quiet and almost reverential approach. The massive, stone fortress (which appeared to have no less than a half-dozen levels) was nestled along the base of an incredibly steep and sheer mountain face that jutted straight up before them for thousands of feet. Sharp, craggy ridges rippled down along either side, almost wrapping around the sanctuary like protective stony tendrils. It was immediately obvious that any assault on the castle-like structure from behind bordered on the impossible.
A short while later, the Dunamai reached the brink of an equally impressive chasm which guaranteed that a frontal attack was just as unlikely.
“Whoa…would you look at that!” Paymer exclaimed in wonder.
Trilyra gently nudged her horse ever closer to the fearful rim of the gigantic crevasse that now separated them from the fortress on the distant side. She glanced over the sharp edge into the featureless darkness far below. “I can’t see the bottom. I bet my bow it’s a long, long, long way down.”
The Dragon Wrath: Book Two of the Arlon Prophecies Page 21