Perspiration rained off of Niki's face as she tried to force the statue upward. She had managed to get one side of the base a hand span off the floor, but the other side appeared to be solidly connected to the floor. With her strength diminishing, Niki gave a final burst of energy and succeeded in lifting one side of the base a pace off the floor before her strength gave out and she dropped the spell. Unfortunately, she did not bring the statue down gently, but rather cut the spell off sharply. The statue wobbled and slowly tilted past the point where it could settle on its base again.
Niki heard the scream behind her as the statue of Abuud careened towards the floor. The statue hit the floor and shattered into thousands of pieces. Niki cast a wary glance at the worshipper, who had fallen to his knees. She dashed through the stone debris and snatched the Diamond of Edona. Without pausing, Niki dashed out the door of the temple and into the street. She raced to where she left her horse tied and skidded to a halt. The horse was gone. She looked around frantically for a horse to steal, but there was not another horse in sight. At her wit's end, Niki started running. She had no idea where she was running to, but she knew that if the pilgrims found her there would be trouble.
Each street she passed was empty and she knew that meant that the worshippers searching for Arik and Tedi were between her and freedom. Finally her eye picked up movement up one of the streets. She slid to a halt and peered up the street. Recognizing the wagon of the merchant, Niki started jumping in the center of the street and waving to him. He was heading towards her, but she cursed the slowness of his wagon. When Boris Khatama pulled up next to Niki he halted the wagon.
"Don't stop," she screamed. "Keep going. I will be hiding in the back. Get me out of this city."
Niki raced around the wagon before Boris had a chance to respond. She untied a corner of the flap and crawled inside as Boris started the wagon rolling again. Master Khatama headed south out of Cleb on the road to Southland. When he reached the outskirts of the city, a band of worshippers stopped the wagon.
"Get down old man and open the back of the wagon," ordered one of the men.
"What is the trouble?" asked Boris without moving.
"I said open the wagon," repeated the man. "We are looking for two escaped prisoners, and if you don't open the wagon, we will. And we don't plan to do it neatly."
"Are you sure it is only two men you are looking for?" questioned Boris. "Could it possibly be three?"
The man looked confused, but another man said, "It could be three. I heard they had a friend, and somebody must have sprung them."
"Then you are looking in the wrong direction," Boris offered helpingly. "I saw three young men on horseback at the other end of the city. They sure seemed to be a bit of a hurry."
"Which way were they going?" asked the worshipper.
"They were heading north as fast as they could ride," declared Boris. "They took the road to Klandon. I doubt you can catch them unless you have some pretty fast horses. Or maybe if they tire their horses."
The man shouted and the group of worshippers started running back into the city. Boris shook his head and smiled. As he watched dozens of torches head north, Master Khatama started his wagon rolling south. He continued on the road to Southland for just short of an hour and then turned off onto a seldom-used trail heading east. He rode for another hour before pulling off the trail to make camp. He walked to the rear of the wagon and untied the flap.
"You can come out," Boris declared. "Brush the horses down and see that they are fed and watered."
"I am not your slave," Niki snarled as she slid out of the wagon. "Take care of your own horses."
"So taking care of the horses that saved your neck is below your station in life?" quipped Boris.
"Yes it is," snapped Niki as she found a rock to sit on. "I am to be the queen, not a stable boy."
"More the pity," sighed Master Khatama. "I have enjoyed the company of more stable boys than queens. The stable boys seemed more happy with their lives, too."
"I will be happy as queen," retorted Niki. "I will have servants to do such things for me, and I will not even give their chores a thought. I will never brush a horse in my entire life."
Boris constructed a crude fire ring and gathered wood for a fire. He quickly built a fire in the ring and lit it.
"Shouldn't you be taking care of the horses before we settle in for the night?" quipped Niki.
"No," Master Khatama said. "Taking care of the horses is your job. Mine is to prepare a fine meal."
"That will never happen," laughed Niki. "I am not Tanya, and I do not intend to soil my hands as she does. If she wants to act like a boy that is her problem."
Boris did not bother to reply. Instead he busied himself with gathering items for a meal from the tins in the back of the wagon. He spread a small cloth on the ground next to the fire and began carrying foodstuffs from the wagon to place on it. Niki's eyes grew large as she saw the plump hen that Boris placed on the cloth. Bowls of vegetables were next and the loaf of fresh bread was last. Master Khatama knelt next to the cloth and started to prepare the hen. Niki watched the old man work with anticipation. The meals that Arik and Tedi had prepared on the trail to Cleb had been annoyingly sparse and certainly not what she had been used to having served in Tagaret. She suddenly realized how long it had been since she had eaten as she watched Boris stuff vegetables into the hen. He then skewered the hen and proceeded to cook it.
Niki's mouth was watering by the time Boris pulled the hen from the fire. He took one of the empty vegetables bowls and scooped vegetables from the hen into it. Next Boris carved a generous slice of the hen and dropped it into the bowl. The old man savored the aroma of the hen as he sat down and began to eat.
"It is not polite to serve yourself first," scowled Niki. "Where are your manners?"
"Your are correct about the courtesy of the camp cook," nodded Boris, "but I have not served myself first. I have in fact served myself last."
"What are you talking about?" growled Niki. "You have not served me. Have you gone senile old man?"
"Boris," the old man said sternly. "You may call me Boris or Master Khatama. Mind your manners or go your own way. As for serving you, I am not your servant. People in my camp serve themselves."
Niki scowled and kicked the dirt as she stalked over to the fire to serve herself. As she reached down to grab a bowl, Boris's hand shot out and grabbed her wrist.
"People in my camp also perform their chores before they eat," declared Boris as he bit down on a piece of the juicy hen. "Did I miss you taking care of the horses?"
Niki's eyes grew wide with rage as she pulled her hand away from the old merchant. She retreated to her rock and rummaged through her pack, but she only found one piece of dried meat and a crusty chunk of bread left. Her face flushed and her hands curled into fists as she watched the merchant savoring his meal. Full of fury, Niki held her arm out straight and conjured up a fireball to kill the old man. How dare him eat in front of her when she was hungry? A thin smile appeared on her face as she visualized the old man's burning corpse.
Within seconds the smile faded and her brow knitted with frustration. As hard as she tried, no fireball developed to consume the old merchant. She stared as the old man continued to eat, totally unaware of her frustration. She tried again to produce the fireball and again nothing happened.
"What are you doing to my magic?" Niki screamed.
Master Khatama turned and stared at her. "Are you a mage?" quizzed Boris. "I have heard of stories where magicians could not cast spells because of hunger. I am not sure if the stories are true though. I have also heard that mages can't cast when their emotions run too high, but I guess that would not apply to you, would it?"
A puzzled frown grew over Niki's face as she watched the old man return to his meal. She had thought the old man was stopping her from casting her spell as Jenneva had done to her, but the senile old fool did not appear to have a clue about magic. Eventually her concern about losing
her powers outgrew her rage and her face color returned to normal.
"How about you forget your rules for this one night?" suggested Niki. "I am really very hungry and you must know that it is not polite to eat in front of a lady."
"Can't say I know much about ladies," Boris said as he put down his bowl, "but I do know about rules. Once you break a rule, you destroy the rule. Best I can do is not thoroughly inspect your work this evening, but be sure that in the future I will."
"You mean you want me to take care of the horses every night?" gasped Niki.
"Of course," nodded Master Khatama. "It is easy work for someone as young as you, but for an old man like me it is difficult. We all have to do our part to make the journey pleasurable. The horses have worked hard all day, as have I. The brush is in a bucket hanging from the rear of the wagon. Be quick about it before this hen gets cold."
Niki stared at the old man for a few moments and then shook her head in defeat. She retrieved the bucket and began brushing the horses. She brushed hard and furious at first, but something about the physical task softened her anger. Her mind wandered as she brushed the horses, and she did not notice when Boris walked up behind her with two buckets of feed.
"I think she likes you," Boris smiled as he gently patted the mare. "Go get some food before it cools. I will get them water."
"Thanks," Niki said with uncharacteristic sincerity as she shook her head and headed for the campfire.
Niki filled a bowl with vegetables and a hefty slice of hen. She smelled the food and a smile broke out on her lips. She closed her eyes briefly in appreciation of the meal. She did not rush her eating, but rather savored each bite. After a while, Boris returned and sat near the fire. Niki finished her meal with a chunk of fresh bread and placed the bowl on the cloth. She looked over at the merchant as he sat silently smoking his pipe.
"Why did Tanya leave you?" Niki asked.
Boris turned towards Niki and pressed his lips together before answering. "Tanya is not my child," Boris said softly. "I did my best to raise her. I got her schooling in anything she wanted. She was a good worker and the animals liked her. We were together for a long time. I guess it was just time for her to go out on her own."
"She said that you died and your wagon burned," Niki responded. "That is obviously not true."
"Not yet," nodded Boris. "Did Tanya tell you that she has visions? Sometimes visions of things yet to occur?"
"No," frowned Niki. "Tanya seldom talks about herself. It is like she has some great big secret that she is hiding."
"Perhaps she does," sighed Boris. "Everybody has something that they want to keep to themselves. I am sure there are things that you don't want anyone to know. Aren't there?"
Niki frowned and nodded.
"The funny thing is," smiled Boris, "is that the things we hide are often painful memories. What is funny about that, is that talking about those memories often eases the pain of them. Isn't that odd?"
"I don't know," admitted Niki. "I have never tried to tell anyone."
"Perhaps you should," smiled Master Khatama.
Niki's mouth opened, but she stopped before uttering anything. She shook her head and looked into Master Khatama's eyes. "I cannot," she said simply.
Boris smiled and nodded his head. "You don't have to," he said softly. "It is not anything that I need to know. It is just a way of easing your pain. Perhaps another time."
Niki smiled and nodded.
***
Arik threw back the tarp as the sky lightened. He stretched and gazed out at the riverbank flowing by. Tedi and Wylan heard the sounds of Arik walking and they too emerged from their hiding places.
"It looks like we are free of Azmet's people," Wylan smiled.
"We are indeed," grinned Tedi. "I wonder how long it will take to reach Dalek."
"A day or two I would guess," yawned Wylan.
"I don't like the fact that we had to leave in such a hurry," frowned Arik.
"It was fine by me," responded Tedi. "There was not anything in Cleb that I wanted to stick around for."
"What about Niki?" posed Arik. "We have left her stranded in Cleb. We should be looking after her."
"I had forgotten about her," responded Tedi. "What do you think she will do now? Will she return to Tagaret?"
"That would be certain death for her," frowned Arik. "I wish we had at least told Master Khatama to watch out for her. I fear she will get herself in trouble."
"She strikes me as trouble looking for a place to land," interjected Wylan. "She seemed to think that you got yourselves into trouble with Azmet. I do not think she is in touch with reality."
"That sounds like Niki," nodded Tedi.
"Well there is nothing that we can do about it now," decided Arik. "I wonder if Prince Midge will be able to find us?"
"I hadn't thought about that," Tedi said. "We will be leagues away from where he would expect to find us. I wonder if the people at Dalek can send a message for us."
"Who would they send it to?" inquired Arik. "The only one of us who has a place to live is Fredrik, and we are not sure whose side he is on."
"How about the Sword and Shield?" whispered Tedi as Wylan walked to the pilothouse to let the horses out.
"It might be dangerous to their security," Arik responded. "Somehow I do not think that Alex would appreciated that."
"We could send a note in a package to Continental Shipping in Trekum," brightened Tedi.
"That is a brilliant idea," conceded Arik. "We know that they can be trusted, and we know that they have a way of getting messages to Tagaret. It is perfect."
Chapter 12
Tightening the Noose
"Lord Clava and Lord Markel appear to have settled in nicely as councilors," noted Duke Graves as he dined with Duke Tredor and Duke Zalski at the Palace Shadow.
"At least they haven't shown signs of trying to seize power," chuckled Lord Tredor.
"No, I think Graves is right," interjected Duke Zalski. "Both of them appear to be looking after the interests of the citizens and not seeking power for themselves. The same can be said for Lord Wason although he does not appear to contribute much to the meetings."
"So we have three members of the Council that we do not have to worry about showing our backs to," quipped Duke Tredor. "Don't think for a minute that the Contest of Power is over. Duke Everich has been hinting again about becoming Regent. When he finally makes his move is when the trouble will start."
"I believe that he may be beginning to make his move as we speak," frowned Duke Graves. "My sources tell me that Count Melorn has been persuaded over to Everich's side."
"If that is true," declared Duke Zalski, "then that is at least three votes for Everich. Balance that against our three votes and these newcomers become all that more important. I think it might be time to start talking to them about joining with us."
"I would stress caution with that," reasoned Graves. "So far the Sordoans have remained above the fray of politics. Once we start them thinking down that road, there may be no turning back for them. Their block of votes would be as large as ours."
"But if they sided with us," interjected Tredor, "we would control half the Council. I agree with Duke Zalski. We should at least approach them. They have us to thank for their seat on the Council."
Duke Graves issued a cautionary whisper to his colleagues as Lord Gelman, another councilor, approached the table.
"Greetings, Lord Gelman," smiled Duke Graves. "Another councilor here and we can call a meeting to order."
"Ah to have your wit today," Lord Gelman smiled tautly. "May I sit for a moment?"
"By all means," replied Graves. "You look troubled."
"I am," admitted Lord Gelman. "You utilize the services of the Grakus Mercenary Company, don't you?"
"I do," nodded Duke Graves. "I am very impressed with their services. They are very professional."
"Do you know if they are taking new customers at this time?" asked Lord Gelman.
"I thought you already had mercenaries?" queried Duke Tredor. "Why would you want more?"
"Had is the operative word there," frowned Lord Gelman. "I had ten men from the Koman Mercenary Company. They walked off the job today."
"That is inexcusable," scowled Duke Zalski. "I use the Koman mercenaries and if they think they can just leave whenever they want to then I will switch to the Grakus mercenaries."
"I investigated both firms before choosing the Grakus Mercenary Company," interrupted Duke Graves. "I found them both to be professional and really little difference between them. I cannot imagine either firm pulling their men off of a contract. There must be something that you are not telling us."
Lord Gelman looked around the room uneasily before turning to stare at the three other councilors. "I have not always tended to agree with you three," he began, "but neither have we been at great odds. I also tend to believe that you are among the most docile of the councilors."
"I am not sure that I like that distinction coming from one who has on occasion sided with Duke Everich," interrupted Duke Tredor.
"What I mean to say," sighed Lord Gelman, "is that while you could be expected to be as underhanded as the rest of the Council in general, you have not yet resorted to assassination."
"What are you trying to say?" prompted Duke Zalski.
Lord Gelman gazed upon the other three councilors for a moment as if measuring whether or not to continue. Finally he decided that his predicament was severe enough to take a chance.
"I was approached this morning by Mitar Vidson," Lord Gelman explained.
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