by Guy Antibes
“Take care of Lenis and bring my things. I’ll meet you in Kizru,” Trak said quickly, putting the Toryan lord to sleep before teleporting all the way to Able’s house in Kizru.
He staggered when he stood in the side yard where he had taken off in Tembul’s flyer months ago, and then fell on his back end.
“Who goes there?” a guard said running up to him.
He let the man help him to his feet, while he got his legs under control. He didn’t think that he could teleport so far, but he did. “Are Neel and Able inside?”
The guard helped Trak to the front of the house and pounded on the door. “Master Fidelia and Master Bluntwithe!”
“What is going on?” Able said, wrapping a robe around him and blinking the sleep out of his eyes. “Trak! Come in, boy. Come in.” Able looked at the guard. “Thank you, Watul.”
The guard nodded and backed away looking at Able hugging Trak.
“Neel! Our son has returned.” He yelled up the stairs before he nodded at Watul, who still watched them while he closed the door.
Able took Trak into the kitchen and lit a fire in the stove after he helped Trak to a kitchen chair. “I’ll get you some tea in a few minutes. Where’s Tembul? I presume you rescued the princess?”
Trak put his hand to his forehead. The long teleport had created a big headache. “First, the tea.”
Neel rushed in and sat next to Trak. “I’m glad you’re alive. How did you get here? I thought the Toryans would know you were in their country days before you reached us.”
“Flyers.” Trak said. “Tembul, Princess Pullia, and my friends will arrive in a few days. I had to leave Colcan under pressing circumstances.”
“Colcan!” Able said. “They’ll kill you.”
“To kill me, they have to catch me first. I’ve learned a few things since I’ve been gone.”
“And grown,” Neel said, squeezing Trak’s biceps.
“That is what months mining iron ore as a slave does to you,” Trak smiled.
“A story for heroes, I would imagine,” Neel said. “I am so glad to see you.”
“As am I.” Able fussed with the teakettle.
“You don’t have to wait,” Neel said, standing up and posing. The kettle began to shake and rattle with boiling water.
“You used magic.”
Neel shook his head and twisted his lips. “That’s the only way a foreigner has of getting respect in this place,” he said.
“You both have been fine?”
“Making money,” Able said grinning, “Even if we are guarded all day and all night, the guards are friends, now.”
Neel finished pouring tea into steaming mugs. “Here, it’s hot.”
Trak took a sip. The tea was strong, but he probably needed it that way. His fathers let him sip at his tea for a bit.
“You probably want to hear my story first?” Trak said.
Both men nodded their heads. Trak started with an abbreviated version of his encounter with Valanna in Amorim and proceeded to tell them of his adventures in Bennin, ending with his teleportation to their house.
Neel shook his head. “Poseless magic. Ben always warned me aagainst trying to do it, and I nearly killed myself the two times I tried. The person who wrote that Pestlan book must have been a genius.”
“My grandfather and your father-in-law,” Trak said. “Jojo said the author was J. Youngblood.”
“All of those Youngbloods were more powerful than they let on.” Neel grinned. “Your mother—”
“I know,” Trak said, putting his hand on Neel’s arm, and then couldn’t repress a yawn.
Neel sighed. “We can talk more later today. I think we all need a bit more sleep. I’ll show you to our extra room.”
~
Trak woke to a heated conversation in Toryan downstairs. He found that Able had added one of his shirts to the pile of clothes that Trak had deposited in the only chair in the small bedroom. He quickly dressed, surprised at how well his father’s shirt fit him, and made his way downstairs.
“You!” a Toryan man said, angrily pointing his finger at Trak. “Where is my son?”
“Which one? Tembul or Sirul?” Trak noticed the man dressed like a Toryan noble, and he wanted to knock the man down a peg or two.
“Lenis,” the man said.
Trak continued down the steps as slowly as he could. “Lenis is a thorn in my side. He alerted the Colcanan guard that I was in their country. Luckily, I escaped and found my way here before the rest of the group.”
“Lenis is with them?”
Trak nodded. “Most likely. Lenis, Tembul, Sirul, Princess Pullia, Hana her maid, Mori Tamoda, a Benninese woman, and three Vashtans from the Blue Swan clan.”
The noble blustered while Trak announced the names.
“They will be here in a few days. I came early to see if my fathers were intact. I’m glad to say that they are.” Trak put an arm around each of his fathers, who flanked him on both sides.
“Lenis should have come first. He deserves a hero’s welcome.”
Trak sat back on the stairs. “He deserves a prison cell. He left us in Homiko without means to get to the Bennin capital. Tembul, Sirul, and I were sent to a mining camp as slaves until we escaped and fled to Beniko. We rescued the princess while Lenis slept and returned to Torya.”
“Lies,” the noble said.
“As long as you let my fathers go, I don’t care what you call my story,” Trak said. “If you don’t mind, I need to wash up and start my day. Good bye.” Trak gently pushed the man out the door. “Your son will be here in a few days, so you don’t need to yell at us all that time.” Trak leaned against the closed door and put a hand to his head.
“Lenis’s father hasn’t exactly been a supporter.” Neel said.
“We can leave at any time,” Trak said. “I mean at any time, and we can be out of Torya in hours, not days.”
“I don’t want to go,” Able said. “It has taken me months to get my brewery in operation and now I have an interest in three pubs in Kizru. We are making more money in a month than I made in a year in Greenbrook, and I don’t mind the Toryans at all.”
“Once you get past the aristocracy,” Neel said. “Toryans are actually nicer than I remembered, if a bit cold to strangers.”
“That’s the case with most people everywhere I’ve been. There is a nasty disease that afflicted nobles and the bureaucracy,” Trak nodded in agreement with himself.
“Even in Colcan,” Neel said.
Trak nodded. “It’s the worst in Colcan. Until Lenis called the guard, I enjoyed my stay at the inn on the border.”
“You’ve grown,” Able said.
After a yawn that ended up being shared with the others, Trak grinned, “I’ve grown tired. I’m going back to bed, if you don’t mind, and then I’d like to hear how you’ve managed to crack into the ale market in Kizru.”
~
“You’ve been summoned to meet with the king,” a well-dressed noble said at the door.
Trak looked past him to a carriage. “I don’t have suitable clothes for an audience,” Trak said.
“Those will be provided. Please come with me.”
Trak liked the phrase ‘please’ in talking with the man.
“Go on,” Neel said. “We’ll have some dinner ready when you return.”
Trak looked back at the house as he left. He felt good about seeing Neel and Able again, but the situation in Kizru unsettled him, since he had no idea who was who without Tembul at his side.
When he reached the palace, he was shown to the same room he remembered on his first visit to Kizru. He changed his clothes and was soon in King Basiul’s study. There were six other men in the room sitting in chairs in front of the king’s desk.
“Sit, Master Bluntwithe,” one of the men said.
“Welcome back,” the king said.
Trak remembered most of the faces and decided that the two factions hadn’t changed since he had been gone. Lenis’s father
glared at him.
“I am glad to return. Princess Pullia should arrive tomorrow,” Trak said.
“How did you get here so quickly?” Lenis’s father said accusingly.
“That’s something I’d rather not answer until my friends arrive. We all have our own personal stories, and you feel free to talk to them about theirs.” Trak shrugged. “I’ve learned some new magical techniques, is all.”
Basiul leaned over his desk. “How did you recover the Princess?”
Trak leaned back. “We were there to assist in a coup in the capital and helped the winning side. The Emperor lost.”
The men couldn’t help but talk amongst themselves at that revelation.
“Lord Jomio was in control of the Bureaucracy when we left, but Bennin isn’t a stable country right now, and might not be in the near future. The docks in Homiko were burned down. We had to make our way through Pakoa to get to Warish and took our flyer north to Amorim. We found a ship to take us to Trachium.”
“Flyers,” one of the men said as if it were a dirty word.
Trak tilted his head. “They are just adaptations of the floaters that you Toryans use every day. I don’t know why you should disparage them.”
The man looked angry. Trak put him down as a Lenis supporter.
“You brought Vashtans with you?” another man said. He sounded more curious than the others.
“There are factions within the Vashtans as there are in every society,” Trak said, and that statement included Torya. “These Blue Swan Vashtans fought against the Yellow Fox Vashtans that had stirred up trouble in Bennin, and eventually Warish as well.”
“We haven’t heard of that.” King Basiul said. “You seem to have created trouble wherever you’ve gone.”
Trak didn’t think that was a particularly supportive comment. “That is incorrect. We put down a corrupt government in Bennin and saved the life of King Marom in Warish in an attempted coup. I fought on King Marom’s side. The Yellow Fox Vashtans were a common element of instability in each society. The Vashtans I bring are their enemies. I hope that you will welcome them in Kizru.”
“They will be treated like all aliens,” one of the men said. “You made a mistake bringing them here.”
Trak shrugged. “That may be the case. You might learn some perspective from them.”
“I’ll not have foreigners teaching me perspective, young man,” Lenis’s father said.
Trak ignored him. “What else would you like to know, Your Majesty?”
“That is all for now. If all of the Toryans are safely returned, then you have successfully filled your mission.”
“Can I keep these clothes?” Trak said. “I lost most of what I owned in Bennin.”
The king nodded and stood. All of the others followed. A courtier led Trak out of the study and back to the room where his clothes were.
“I won’t need any help getting back to Able Bluntwithe’s house,” he said as he began to change.
After the courtier left, Trak gathered all of the clothing and teleported to Able’s guest bedroom before he had even finished changing. He didn’t want to spend any more time in the palace than he had to.
He was so tired, he didn’t bother telling Able he was home and went to sleep.
Trak woke up the next morning to an empty house. He went into Able’s and Neel’s bedrooms, but they were both empty. The stove was cold, as was the teapot that Neel used. Neither of them had spent the night in the house.
He stepped outside to find the house ringed with guards. He recognized Watul, the guard who Able had befriended. “Where is Able?”
The man took a step backward. “How did you get in there?”
“I had to sneak in. It was so late that I didn’t want to bother anyone. Are you here guarding me?”
Watul’s head bowed and the man had difficulty making eye contact. “I have to admit we didn’t expect you to come out of the house. We were posted her to keep you from going in. We are to take you to Lord Namiul’s residence.”
“Lord Namiul is Lenis’s father?”
Watul nodded his head.
Trak wondered what the price would be to free his fathers this time. He ground his teeth and stalked back inside the house before any of the guards had a chance to make a move.
He could hear Watul tell the others to leave Trak alone. They would escort him once he left the house.
The flyer would be close to Kizru, so Trak decided to try something out. He thought of Derit and willed himself to teleport close to their conveyance.
~
“Trak!” Derit said, catching his arm. Trak had appeared on the wrong side of a crude flyer. Others came to drag him on board.
Trak might not try that technique again. The group had been separated. The Vashtans, Hana, and Mori traveled in this one.
“Up ahead.” Ferikan pointed his finger to other flyer, some hundred paces in front of them. “Toryans, only, at Lenis’ insistence.”
Mori spit off the side. “Lenis talked Tembul and Sirul into following his orders. I thought Lenis had an exaggerated sense of self-importance, and I wasn’t wrong.”
Trak looked at them. “Are you five all right?”
“We are,” Mori said. She evidently had taken charge, something that fit quite well into her character. “Lenis wanted us to stay behind in Colcan, but none of them could stop us from following. We’ve traveled far longer each day.”
“I’m surprised Princess Pullia agreed to go with him.”
“The sleeping princess, you mean? Lenis refused to take Hana with them, so that was the final factor in our decision to follow rather than find another destination,” Derit said.
“I suppose we are ready to make a leap forward?”
Hana wailed. “I don’t want to see Lord Lenis again.”
Trak put her to sleep. “We don’t have a choice since I don’t know where Lenis’s father, Lord Namiul lives. Let’s just follow, shall we? Where is my sword?”
“In the other flyer,” Mori said. “Lenis nearly put it on, but then decided against it because of the scabbard. ‘Carrying something so plain is beneath me,’ he said.” She mimicked Lenis’s poor Benninese rather well. “Your weapons are better made than any he’ll find in Torya.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Trak said, grinning, but the smile quickly faded. “Lenis’s father kidnapped my fathers and wanted to do the same with me. He has gained in power since I left.”
“Yellow Fox influence?” Ferikan said.
“Possibly, but the Toryans are arrogant enough that they probably are doing so on their own. They have no appreciation for my powers, and that will end as soon as they,” Trak nodded towards the other flyer, “tell them what I can do.”
“Lenis still doesn’t know. He wouldn’t accept the fact that you just blinked out of your room at the inn. Tembul told him it was a Vashtan teleportation pose.”
Trak shook his head. “After all this time, but what will they tell him now? Sirul and Tembul must be thoroughly cowed.”
Derit sneered. “Tembul doesn’t like us at all. It’s not the hate that I get from Lenis, but—”
“Toryans don’t accept foreigners very gracefully. Able and Neel are the only ones that I know of who haven’t been driven off, but then good beer and ale is a powerful draw. They have opened a string of pubs in the city and have set up a successful brewery business to while away their time.”
“Good for them,” Mori said. “I look forward to meeting them.”
“I hope you get the chance.”
~~~
Chapter Five
~
It was time for Kulara to leave, but Valanna didn’t want her to go after waiting so long for this first meeting after becoming the Fifth Wife. She summoned a servant, after pulling on the silk tapestry ribbon, who escorted Kulara out.
Life had turned into an awful existence for Valanna, but nothing seemed to change for Asem and Kulara. She let the tears streak her face, while she stretched out on her bed
to let her emotions go. She wanted to feel that Trak had abandoned her, but in her heart she couldn’t bring herself to twist what happened into something that never happened so she might feel better.
She sat up, and washed her face, and filled the bathtub with water. She used a pose to heat it, and took off her clothes, leaving them in a pile. Valanna thought of that pile as a tiny act of rebellion. If Asem and Kulara weren’t under King Marom’s thumb she would do more, much more, but Valanna felt powerless.
When the water cooled and the skin on her hands began to wrinkle, she dressed in something new that the servants had delivered that week. Evidently the King sent new clothes to his wives on a sporadic basis. At least he included her in providing something nice to wear. It made her incarceration a tiny bit more bearable.
Valanna called for her dinner, and after the servants had left, she rededicated her efforts to learn all of the spells in Trak’s portfolio. She pulled out paper and pencil and began to write down a schedule. She needed something specific and something that would require discipline. Kulara had told her about waiting for something to happen, but Valanna didn’t want to wait forever. She needed some measure of control in her life where she had to stretch herself, and learning all the spells in the portfolio, according to a plan, would have to serve.
She wouldn’t put off her start and began by memorizing power words to match the poses that Trak had drawn. If she learned a pose a day, Valanna would need just over a month to catch up to Trak. Her heart skipped a beat when she worried about him traveling through Colcan. Their party couldn’t help but be noticed.
After a huge sigh, Valanna had to put her trust into Trak. He would prevail. He had to. Even as a married woman, she longed to see him again. She closed her eyes and relived their brief time together in Balbaam. Would she ever feel such joy again?
She shook her head and pursed her lips together. Valanna would have to banish such thoughts from her mind if she were to succeed in her goal.
~
Another week in her captivity, another week in her life, but Valanna no longer moped around her rooms. She woke up early and practiced dancing from form to form, incorporating each new pose into her dance. Matching the power words to the form presented a bigger challenge. Her mind just wasn’t disciplined enough to easily remember the power words as she performed. She would have to work on that.