“It’s all right, Willow,” he whispered, and she clung to him as she cried. He stroked her hair. “It’s all right. It’s all right.”
He said it over and over again; that and nothing else. She had no idea how long she cried but at last she felt that she had reached the bottom of the well of her sorrow, that there was no more poison to expel. She felt as though a spike had been removed from her soul. She felt at peace.
She pulled slightly away from Tamlevar, her face surely made ugly by all the tears and mucus and dirt.
She sniffed and said, “You really do love me, don’t you, Tamlevar?”
Tamlevar smiled and wiped her cheek with his forefinger.
“Of course I do,” he said. “Why? Was I unclear on the matter?”
BOOK FOUR
Queen of Bryanae
Chapter 99
“What have I missed?” Willow said, stretching her legs. She felt as though she had been sleeping for a hundred years. She supposed that in a way, she had.
“Oh nothing,” said Tamlevar breezily. His face was gaunt and his skin looked stretched. “We’re being thrown into the gladiatorial games tomorrow morning. I had until midnight tonight to revive you or they’d’ve put us both to death. We’ve been jailed along with that reptilian wall hanging over there. Oh yeah, and Snyde’s been down here a bunch of times asking how you were.”
“What did you tell him?” she said, her blood running cold just thinking of Snyde.
Tamlevar grinned. “I suggested he come in here and take a look himself.”
Willow got up: an ordeal in itself. She looked at the reptile on the wall. It was roughly human-shaped, with differentiated arms and legs, but it had a long thin jaw like a lizard, and a scaly tale that dangled to the ground.
As she stared at it, its eyes swiveled to fix upon her.
She jumped back. Out of habit, she reached for a rapier that she didn’t have. She cursed herself.
“That lizard’s alive,” she said.
“Yes,” Tamlevar said. “Can’t make out if it’s intelligent or not. Doesn’t seem to understand the Tongue of Men. Not sure why it’s even here. It was already here when you and I were thrown in together after you were … uh … I mean after you …”
“Yes,” Willow said. “Understood.”
She hobbled about the room, the strength returning gradually to her legs. The lizard’s eyes followed her. She repressed a shudder.
“How are you feeling?” Tamlevar asked.
“It’s not your con—” she started out of habit, then stopped herself. She thought for a moment, then turned to face him. After her ordeal, she felt … well, different. But not worse; in fact, she felt more alive than she ever had.
“I’m not sure,” she said. “My entire life has literally passed before my eyes, including memories long buried. I feel …” She fumbled for the words. Damn it, expressing feelings was not one of her strengths. “I feel … so sad. I miss my father. I miss … I miss who I used to be.”
“You’re still that girl,” Tamlevar said. “Only there’s even more to you now.”
“But I also feel … better. Whole.”
He nodded, his eyes solemn. The silence between them left nowhere for her to hide. She felt her cheeks grow warm.
“So tell me about these games tomorrow,” she said, changing the subject.
Tamlevar smiled kindly, and to her relief, he did not force her to dwell further on her emotions.
“Do you want the good news first, or the bad news?”
Willow sighed. “The good news.”
“Well, there isn’t any, so I’ll give you the bad news. These games aren’t like any gladiatorial games I’ve heard of. We don’t get to fight to live. If we win a fight, they’ll just throw more opponents at us. They’ll keep throwing foes at us until we die.”
“Who are our opponents?”
“A mixture. I’m not sure exactly what. I know that they like to use animals, particularly cordons and great cats. Also, we can expect a fair number of the Kard warriors as well. Kards sentenced to death for a crime have the option to fight for their freedom in the games.”
Willow arched an eyebrow. “Convicted criminals can fight for their freedom, but we can’t.”
“Precisely. You understand.”
“Do we fight them individually or in groups?”
“Don’t know. I would imagine a little of both.”
Willow paced the cell, shaking her head. As she walked, the lizard’s eyes followed her. It was creepy, how its interest seemed focused on her to the exclusion of all else.
“I wish this lizard would stop staring at me,” she said.
Tamlevar glanced up. “You’ll get used to it.”
“How long was I unconscious?”
Tamlevar shook his head. “I don’t know. A few days.”
Willow walked up to the lizard.
“Can you understand me?” she said. She tried it again in Kardic, and then in Elvish.
“Give it up,” Tamlevar said. “It won’t respond to anything you say. I tried everything, and it wouldn’t answer.”
“Only because you so poorly speak,” the lizard hissed, its tongue flapping.
“Gah!” shouted Tamlevar. He leapt to his feet. “It speaks our language!”
“No,” it said in a voice that sounded like pieces of paper being crumpled. “You my language speak.”
“Oh great,” said Tamlevar. “It speaks in riddles.”
Willow waved him to silence.
“I know, I know,” he said. “Shut up.”
Willow half-smiled. She displayed her open hands to the lizard.
“What do you mean when you say we speak your language? Do you mean that your kind speak the Tongue of Men?”
“No,” it said. “I that I the one who that language created was mean.”
“ ‘I that I …’ ” Willow couldn’t follow the sentence.
“I that I the one who that language created was mean.”
“I … you … are you saying …?” Willow shook her head. “Are you saying that you invented the Tongue of Men?”
“Yes, that what I saying am is.”
“But that’s impossible,” Willow said. “The Tongue of Men has been around for millennia.”
“If he invented the language,” Tamlevar said. “Why does it speak it so strangely?”
“Tamlevar …”
“Shut up, I know.” Tamlevar said, grinning. “It’s sure good to have you back, Willow.”
The lizard swung its head to fix Tamlevar with a baleful gaze. “I my language perfectly speak. It you who it mangles is.”
Willow was getting an idea, but it seemed preposterous. Nevertheless, it was the only lead she had.
“Please,” she said. “how old are … uh … how old you are?”
The lizard beak curled up in what quite possibly could have been a smile.
“I correct in that you Waeh-Loh daughter of Kral-Sus are assuming am?
“Yes,” she said. “I am Waeh-Loh, daughter of Kral-Sus.”
Though how this lizard knew that …
“Then I in the year your great grandfather died was born.”
“Impossible!” Tamlevar said. “That would make you tens of thousands of years old! Nobody lives that long.”
“Tamlevar …” Willow raised a shaking finger.
“I you the truth telling am,” the lizard hissed at him. “If you too stubborn it to accept are, that my failing is not.”
Tamlevar took a few steps towards the creature. “I’m not stubborn,” he insisted.
The lizard stuck its tongue out at him.
“Tamlevar …” Willow’s eyes were wide.
“What?”
“The Tongue of Men is also known as Szun Universal. I think that this is a Szun.”
“Now you understand,” the Szun said. “You my language speak.”
Chapter 100
Szuns! Credited with having created the entire city of Panineth out of the r
ubble of a mountain they themselves destroyed. The inexplicable source of a geyser of technological innovations. Believed by many to be the puppeteer rulers of the world. A source of great power to those who had access to them.
Except that almost nobody did. Never in Willow’s life had she actually seen a Szun with her own eyes, nor had she ever met anyone who had—nor had she met anybody credible who claimed to have met someone who had.
Truth be told, almost nothing was known for sure about these strange, wildly inventive beings except that they were immortal.
Chapter 101
“Oh my,” Tamlevar said.
“Yes,” said Willow.
The Szun seemed to smile again; it was impossible to tell for sure. Its claw-like hands twisted in the manacles that affixed it to the wall.
“Why are you here?” Tamlevar said.
“That a very long story is. You that you time to it all hear have sure are?”
“You that …?” puzzled Tamlevar.
“… you time …?” Willow added.
They looked at each other with blank expressions.
“This is ridiculous,” Tamlevar said.
“That it is I who ridiculous is be sure do not.”
“Terrific,” muttered Willow. She sat down on the floor and cradled her head in her hands. Her rescue had left her giddy and drained at the same time; much like exercising on too much wine and not enough food.
“Listen …” Tamlevar said to the Szun. “Whatever your name is … I know it’s incorrect and all, but would you please speak the way we do … for our sakes? Just for now?”
Willow peeked through her fingers. That couldn’t possibly work. Could it?
The Szun stared at Tamlevar. Tamlevar stared back.
“Yes,” the Szun said. With an expression that surely was the closest lizard equivalent to disdain, it added, “I can do that.”
Willow stood. She and Tamlevar had been dealt a bad hand, but surely this Szun was a wild card.
“Thank you,” Tamlevar was saying. “And after we get out of here, I will try to learn the language as you designed it.”
“You will do that,” the Szun said, “and one thing other.”
Willow didn’t like where this seemed to be headed.
“And that is?” she said.
The Szun stared at her with unfathomable eyes.
“Kill me,” it said.
* * *
The Szun were truly immortal. This was common knowledge. Left to natural circumstances, a Szun would live as long as the sun continued to rise and set in the sky. Life was extremely precious to elves, who sometimes lived for millennia; how much more so must it be to a Szun?
Tamlevar placed his hand on the Szun’s shoulder, the levity gone from his expression.
“Are you serious?” he said. “Why do you want to die?”
“I seek a release from this captivity. I have been a captive of the Kards for several thousand years.”
“So then we’ll rescue you,” Tamlevar said.
The Szun snorted. Perhaps this was what passed for laughter among the immortal.
“Impossible. You’d never get me out of here alive. The Kards would not permit it.”
“They might not have a choice,” Willow said, her expression dark.
“Be reasonable. If you will escape at all, it will be through guile and not force. And no amount of guile will convince them to let me escape. I am too valuable to them.”
“You invent for them?”
“Yes,” the Szun said. “That is so.”
The Szun were famous worldwide for their inventions. The electric lights in the castle at Bryanae were a Szun invention, as was the language they now were speaking—more or less.
By all accounts, the Szun were compulsive inventors. It was in their blood the way that elves craved the forests or that humans craved power. To the Szun, creation was as vital as food and water.
So then, how valuable would it be to have one as your prisoner?
“That explains mechanical wagons that the Kards used to bring you home,” Tamlevar said to Willow.
The Szun said: “A simple exothermic reaction produced when mixing the certain components of the insect blood together, specifically hydroquinone and hydrogen peroxide. Internal to the insects, they are kept separate and inert through an inhibitor, but by crushing the insects, the chemicals are mingled, and they combine to release—”
“We … uh … get the idea,” Tamlevar said. The Szun stuck out its tongue at him again.
“You’ve also made a weapon that can kill from a distance with a single blow, haven’t you?” Willow remembered all-too-well the grisly pulp that was all that remained of Pree-Var-Us’s head.
“Ah yes,” the Szun said, its beak curling with evident pride. “My fire arm! It works with same basic principle as a conventional bow and arrow except that an explosive reaction is used to propel the projectile instead of the transfer of kinetic energy to the—”
“I liked it better when you were speaking backwards,” Tamlevar said. “Hey. If you’re the Kards’ captive, why do you keep making devices for them?”
“I cannot stop myself.” Its tongue traced the outline of its toothless jaws. “For a Szun not to invent … It is as natural to us as breathing is to you. Ah, but if you promise to rescue or kill me, I will give something of great value to you.”
“Such as?” Willow said.
“Information!”
Willow raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.
“Tomorrow you fight in the arena, yes?”
Willow leaned forward almost involuntarily. “Go on.”
“Who do you think designed the arena?”
Chapter 102
She heard the roar of the crowd the moment the cellblock door opened. The footsteps of the approaching squad of Kards were barely audible above the din. There were an even dozen of them, armed with hand-axes and wearing brightly-colored bands of fabric wrapped around strips of leather and steel armor. One of them tossed a key ring through the bars to Tamlevar.
“Release the lizard,” the guard said.
Willow translated and Tamlevar laughed. “Did he really just say, ‘release the lizard?’ ”
The guard slammed the flat of his axe against the cell bars. Tamlevar jumped.
“Ok, ok!” he said, and did as he was instructed.
The guards led the three of them down the cellblock with their hands bound behind their backs, towards the sound of the roaring crowd. In one of the cells they passed, Sil-Then sat rocking back and forth, caressing his head in his hands. Tamlevar stopped by the cell door.
“Hey, Sil-then,” Tamlevar said, his voice gentle. “How are you? Have they hurt you?”
A guard shoved Tamlevar forward. As they resumed their march, Sil-Then’s voice drifted down after them: “Your Highness?”
“Yes, Sil-Then?” she called backwards, not wanting to provoke her guards by stopping as Tamlevar had. She needed to preserve as much of her energy as possible for what lay ahead.
“Good … good luck, Your Highness.”
She didn’t respond. She was working to maintain her calm, her discipline. She needed to stay relaxed and focused if they were going to survive.
The lead guard unlocked the cell block door and as he opened it, the noise of the spectators poured in like a tidal wave of sound. Willow expected to be blinded by the sunlight from the open arena but was surprised to find that the door led to yet another musty and dark corridor.
They passed through another cell block door and now her eardrums began to ache dully. She picked up the sound of drums and some kind of bleating wood instrument. Softer, but still periodically audible, was the roar of some great beast. The noise of the crowd ebbed and flowed like waves upon the beach.
The design of this hall was less utilitarian than the preceding one. There were ornate carvings along the walls, depicting epic battles and noble warriors. The hall was better-lit, too, with torches ensconced every six feet or so.<
br />
As they marched, Willow stole a glance at Tamlevar. He had risked his very being to save her from her emotional torpor. She had trouble wrapping her mind around that. What did it feel like to love someone that much? Was it a pleasant feeling, a painful one, or perhaps both?
Now especially, she wished she could tell him she loved him. He deserved it, he really did. And she realized that she cared enough to want him to be happy. But caring wasn’t the same as loving and she wouldn’t lie to him, even to make him feel good. She owed him too much.
“Tamlevar,” she said, her voice lowered so that only he would hear.
“What?”
“About before … you know, what you did for me?”
He looked at her with those penetrating eyes of his. They were hazel, she realized. She had never noticed that before. If she were a woman who cared about such things, she’d probably think them lovely.
“Yeah?” he said, a mischievous twinkle in those eyes.
How much did he know about what she was feeling? He had seen her in her entirety, knew more about her than any other living person. Even Snyde, with whom she had rutted like a cat in heat, had never gotten a thousandth as close to her.
“I just … after what you did …” Damn it, since when had she hesitated with anything?
She said, “I just wanted to say thank you.”
“Can I kiss you?” His grin was infectious.
“No!” she said, and surprised herself by laughing. The Szun stared at her, its yellow eyes unblinking. As it walked, its head bobbed like some kind of bird, and Willow found the overall effect to be humorous.
“You sure you don’t want to think it over?” Tamlevar said.
“Yes!”
“Because I—”
“Shut up,” the guard said in Kardic. “Keep moving.”
“Tamlevar,” Willow said, “the guard says that he wants you to kiss him instead.”
“I said shut up!” The guard shoved Willow forward.
In her mind, she saw the steps she would have taken. She’d have fallen forward into the guards in front, disable the closest with a groin kick, and then kick the next two closest in the kneecaps …
Prince of Bryanae Page 38