Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3

by Mark E. Cooper

  Talitha did not class her servants as friends of course, and slaves were beneath notice. Wanikiya was close, but she was a healer first and spent most of her time in the city. She could order Wani to stay within the palace, but that would cause her more problems than it solved. Wani was stubborn, she might refuse to stay and then Talitha would have no choice but to execute her for disobedience; it would be just like Wani to push her to it.

  Force Leader Tymek entered Jarek’s room first then Talitha followed. The old man was in bed as she had expected, but he was still working! She rushed to his side and snatched the scroll out of his hand.

  “I haven’t finished with that!” Jarek said querulously before he realised to whom he talking to.

  “I told you not to work so hard!” she scolded as she sat on the side of the bed.

  “Matriarch, forgive me!” he said trying to rise. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

  “Stay there!” she ordered and Jarek fell back. “Wani said you took a turn for the worse.”

  “Wani has a big mouth! I’m perfectly fine, Talitha. I can resume my duties any time.”

  Talitha bit her lip. He wasn’t fine; he was grey faced with exhaustion from trying to rise. Wani was right, he was worse.

  “Nekane is taking care of that. I need you to be well, father of my heart.”

  Jarek patted her hand. He was trying to comfort her! “I will have to try harder then won’t I?”

  “Yes,” she said quietly. “What have you found out about the empire?” she said trying to pretend all was well.

  “I assume you mean Tindebrai and not Tanjung,” he said and at her nod continued. “I have found many things, many things. The most important is from a treatise on dragons written by Matriarch Kachina eleven hundred years ago. She wrote it during the period that dragons left what is now Deva—you might say they migrated. Like birds in winter. Yes, that’s a good analogy is it not?”

  Talitha summoned a smile and nodded. “Yes it’s very good.”

  “They migrated. They don’t like sorcerers you know? The dragons I mean. There was a battle and the dragons lost, or so Kachina says. I would have thought such a thing impossible, but history tells us it did happen. I have it here somewhere,” Jarek began pushing scrolls aside and discarding others.

  Talitha put out a hand and captured his. “I’ll read them later.”

  “Hmmm? Oh yes, yes, forgive me Matriarch. What was I saying… ah I remember. The dragons went east you know, yes east they went and were never seen again.”

  “What about the empire?”

  “The empire? Oh yes! The empire in the east! That was what I was looking for wasn’t it? Yes, the empire is very secretive, very secretive, but I’ve found them out! The empire never lets our traders enter their country. Many have tried and disappeared. The only city open to us is the City of Merchants. Silly name, but that’s what they call it.”

  “So what are they hiding?”

  “I thought I said, did I not say?” Jarek blinked in confusion.

  “No, you said they are secretive.”

  “And they are!” Jarek exclaimed almost bouncing in his bed. Wanikiya came forward and fussed around him. She told him to calm down. “Intolerable woman,” Jarek said in a whisper that made Talitha laugh. “She’s always fussing!”

  “Perhaps she has her eye on you,” Talitha whispered back.

  The horrified look on Jarek’s face made Talitha laugh even harder. She hugged him and he patted her back not knowing what the hug was for. Talitha sat up again and told him to continue with his news.

  “The empire is very secretive indeed, but I found them out. It’s the dragons you know; it has to be the dragons.”

  “What about them?”

  “Well they flew east you see, and the empire is in the east, simple!” Jarek said as if that explained everything.

  “So they flew east… to the empire?”

  “No, no, no!” Jarek said testily. “The empire is young, Talitha. You know that from your lessons. Like Deva, the empire is only a little over a thousand years old. No, the dragons went east and founded the empire!”

  Talitha frowned. “Founded it? I thought dragons were animals.”

  “No not animals—well yes and no. They’re intelligent animals, big intelligent animals.”

  Talitha shook her head doubtfully and glanced at Wanikiya. Wani shrugged slightly and shook her head; it was the illness.

  “Why did they do that?”

  “Well, I don’t really know,” Jarek said frowning. “They just wanted to I suppose.”

  Talitha forced a smile. “You’ll find the answer I’m sure.”

  Jarek blinked in confusion. “What was I saying?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I just came to see how you’re feeling.”

  “Oh that was good of you Matriarch, but there’s nothing wrong with me. I can take up my duties again any time!” Jarek said and then lent forward to whisper. “If I can escape that intolerable woman that is!”

  Talitha stayed with Jarek talking of the past for a candlemark before reluctantly leaving him dozing. He tired easily. She had watched him sleep for half of her visit. Talitha felt sad and decided to change out of her red silks into her black. Black suited her mood. As Talitha stood nude surrounded by her girls, she wondered if perhaps Jarek was right; surely not. Wani thought his condition had led to his fancies, but what if he was right?

  “Tymek?”

  “Matriarch?” Tymek came forward.

  Talitha ignored his wandering eyes. He couldn’t help it; he was just a man like any other. Besides, he had been with her since childhood and had seen her naked many times.

  “What do you think of Jarek’s idea?”

  Tymek thought for a moment. “I like it, but whether it’s true I don’t know. The dragons certainly existed, history and other stories prove that, and they did leave to the east, but why would they build cities and an empire to rule them, when throughout their history they have lived without such things?”

  “Good question,” Talitha said and then frowned at the silks in her slave’s hands. “No Irena, I want the black.”

  “Sorry mistress, I thought you meant just the kamiz.”

  “No. I feel all black today.”

  “Yes mistress,” Irena rushed off to find the rest of the outfit.

  Irena returned quickly with the shalwar and bent to help her dress. Talitha stepped into the legs of the shalwar and Irena pulled them up. The Kamiz was next and the pearl buttons finished her dressing. Talitha frowned at the fit of the Kamiz; it was a little tight around her middle, but not enough to be uncomfortable.

  “I think it might be time to call Marlena,” Talitha said thoughtfully turning to the side and looking at her profile.

  “I will tell her mistress,” Irena said.

  “No hurry,” Talitha said.

  Her pregnancy wasn’t showing much as yet, but her choice of tight clothing was working against her today. Her waist was bigger if only a little; it would get larger. Marlena would be pleased; she always wanted to make other styles for her.

  She turned away from the mirror and looked outside. There was nothing in the gardens to help her, but an idea did make its presence felt. She would invite Verner to the palace. He was the closest thing to an Imperial spy she had close by. Unlike the empress, Talitha did not restrict trade to one city. Merchants from Tindebrai roamed freely, but Verner had made his home in Pura for years. He had many interests in Waipara, which were threatened by the war. He might know something useful about the empire that could help the situation here. It was worth a try.

  “Send for Nekane,” Talitha said.

  Verner took Talitha’s hand warily. To touch the Matriarch was a serious crime, but nothing befell him when he kissed it. He let it go rather hastily though, she thought in amusement.

  “You honour me with this invitation, Matriarch.”

  “Yes I know,” Talitha said and smiled. “But I have my reasons. No other of your people has eve
r come to visit, so I thought I would invite one. Nekane and Jarek both know and speak highly of you. You were my choice.”

  “I… I don’t know what to say. I thank you for inviting me, and them for their recommendation but—”

  “But why are you here?” she finished for him and smiled.

  “Well… yes,”

  “Please sit,” she said and sat opposite him after he obeyed.

  She was wearing a gold shalwar and kamiz today. Marlena had finished it only this morning. It did look good, she admitted, but she still preferred a tighter fitting. With the babe on the way, she would have to become used to looser styles she supposed. She was pleased to see that she was having the desired effect on Verner, but it was time to get to the point.

  “You have contacts within the empire do you not?” she asked and continued without waiting for a reply. “I know you do. Far from being just a merchant, you’re an Imperial spy.”

  Verner made to refute that, but didn’t have time.

  “Don’t bother to deny it. We both know it’s true of all Imperial merchants.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of calling you a liar,” Verner began.

  “Of course not,” she smiled at the thought. If he did call her a liar, he would be dead.

  “As it happens I do have contacts—trading partners you know.”

  “Trading partners? Tell me Verner; do your partners deal in information by any chance?”

  “I do not—”

  “You see if they did,” she said before he replied negatively. “I would be interested in buying some.”

  “Matriarch, I trade in silk. Sometimes a little glass if it’s very special, but I know nothing of which you would be interested.”

  “Don’t be modest. You are an intelligent man, a worldly man. All I want is information of a general nature. Simple things that any of your people would know. Nothing secret.”

  “Not secret?” Verner said uncertainly.

  “That’s right. I would be very grateful.”

  He looked around the room as if expecting Imperial soldiers to descend on him. Talitha was amused. He was already thinking about talking. If he had been one of her people, she would have had him executed for even thinking about it, but he wasn’t one of hers.

  “How grateful?”

  Talitha nodded at Tymek and he opened her door to bring in Verner’s present. “How about this to start?” she said as a pair of slaves walked in.

  Verner circled the two girls and examined them appreciatively. “They are magnificent, Matriarch. Sisters?”

  Talitha shrugged. There was a marked resemblance, but she did not concern herself with the origins of slaves. She had ordered them to learn what she wanted to know. That was all that mattered.

  “Ask them.”

  Verner did, and they were. “You are giving them to me?”

  “That’s right.”

  He obviously wanted them, but he was still unsure what was being asked. Talitha told him, and he was still puzzled.

  “Is that all?” Verner said frowning.

  “For now,” she agreed.

  Verner frowned in thought and then shrugged. “Yes Matriarch. Your chamberlain has the right of it.”

  “The dragons are real?”

  “Yes.”

  So, they were real. What did that mean to her and Japura? Nothing yet, but she wanted to know more. “You have seen them?”

  “Yes, flying over the city. They do not speak to anyone but the Empress in Amudai.”

  Amudai? The Empress’s city obviously. Talitha had already learned more about the empire than any before her. She needed to write all this down for the archives. Who knew what she might learn to pass on to her daughter? Jarek was right about them. Dragons were more than animals if they could speak.

  “I thank you for confirming these things, Verner,” she said rising to take his arm. “Come, let us walk through the gardens. It’s too nice a day to be cooped up inside.”

  “Ah yes, of course Matriarch,” Verner said in confusion at her sudden change of mood. “I would be delighted—”

  Talitha ignored his attempt at converse. She would cultivate the man she decided, and when the time came, she would drop her next question.

  * * *

  20 ~ Black Isle, Black Heart

  The Black Isle at last.

  Godwinson studied the island as he sailed closer. It had been a long journey. By the God, he wished there was a better way to travel the land than on horseback. The time it took to move through the Protectorate was not only wasteful it was cursed boring after twenty years. He grinned. Living in the castle, as Mortain did, would be worse he supposed, but it would be restful for a time. At least the ship was less wearing on his backside!

  The sails were full as the ship raced toward her homeport. He grinned and leaned forward into the wind. Leaning far out over the bows, he watched a sailfish jump and splash daringly close to disaster as the ship cut through the chop. They were charming creatures, even intelligent in their fashion. There were stories of sailfish protecting sailors who fell overboard. Grateful sailors had reported families of them, including little ones, protecting them against dagger fish and pulling them to shore.

  He had tried to talk to them more than once with his magic but he always failed. There was something there. He knew there was, but it was… diffuse. As if being so different from them did not allow meaningful communication. Still, they were beautiful and playful. No sailor, be it a hand aboard a fleet warship or a mere fisherman, would see a sailfish come to harm and that was a good thing. There was enough death and violence in this world without bringing even more of the God’s creatures into the fray.

  He stood straight again and glanced over his shoulder to see if anyone had seen his silliness. No one seemed to be taking notice. The deck was canted at what must be a thirty degree angle with sailors scampering about unimpeded by its slickness. The passengers were less happy. Eban and the others looked decidedly green. Beltran was the only one who appeared unaffected by seasickness, but he was also unhappy. Beltran had looked that way since receiving the summons to return to Castle Black. In truth, Godwinson didn’t blame him for looking sick. He felt a little that way himself.

  He watched the island easing closer. The westerly breeze was strong today; its gusts were whipping his robes against his legs and occasionally sending them playfully up around his head. He didn’t mind. He had other concerns to worry about. Concerns more dire than playful robes. He was sure Mortain knew about the circle, but did he know the rest? They hadn’t tried to hide their recruiting efforts reasoning that Mortain would feel challenged by such secrecy. Recruiting in the open should have relieved the man’s concerns. A group of sorcerers chosen as future advisers was not in any way unusual. Any Godwinson would do the same. Rather, they would do the same as he appeared to be doing.

  The Japurans used the word government for what he had in mind. Using magic, he had created the web, which gave the concept of government a useful twist. Through the web, he and the circle would govern thereby removing the tiresome and time wasting need to roam the land rectifying problems. There was little doubt that the governors would be unhappy with him at first. Subordinating themselves to sorcerers was always hard from their point of view, but that was how the Protectorate would be ruled when he was Mortain. The web would ensure instant communication between him and a sorcerer anywhere within the Protectorate. At the same time, it would guard against the misuse of power. Corruption had ever been a problem among Mortain’s governors and officials. Sorcerers connected to one another via the web would lance the problem once and for all.

  The sails were reefed as they entered the harbour mouth and he retired briefly to his cabin to change into a clean robe and shave the stubble from his chin. Not for the first time, he wondered if perhaps there was a spell to prevent his beard growing—nasty itchy things beards.

  “Make fast the bowline!” Master Indrani roared.

  Godwinson climbed the ladder and stepp
ed back on deck as Indrani snugged his ship into her berth.

  “The Black Ship, or do we ride on?” Felda asked as he came on deck.

  “There’s no way you are getting me in the saddle this late in the day. The Black Ship it is.”

  The Black Ship was a popular inn at the centre of town. Sorcerers used it more or less exclusively as they travelled from the castle to the mainland and back. It was a place to be oneself in a private setting, but first he needed to be Godwinson for a little longer.

  “Master Indrani, a speedy passage as usual,” he said with a smile for the man.

  “I thank you my lord sorcerer,” Indrani said grinning with plenty of teeth. “If I find any more speed from this old lady she’ll grow wings and fly!”

  He laughed and slapped the man on the shoulder. “That would be something to see my friend.”

  Godwinson made his way down the plank. At the bottom, a ceremony awaited him. Firstly, an honour guard chosen from the best the first legion could provide awaited his inspection. Most of the men were old hands that had excelled over their years in the legion. They had been given this position of honour as a final post before retiring to their farms or whatever else they had chosen to do with their twilight years. He walked along the lines smiling at familiar faces. He stopped to have a word with a friend he had known from way back before he became Godwinson.

  “Still here, Sergeant?”

  Sergeant Manaba smiled through the gaps in his teeth; they were supposedly knocked out of his mouth in the war, but Godwinson knew different. Manaba had been brawling in a tavern somewhere when he met a chair leg with some considerable force wielded by the owner.

  “They’re throwing me out next season,” Manaba said downcast. “I wanted to stay, but they say no.”

  “Who says no?”

  Manaba shrugged uncomfortably glancing quickly at his stiff-faced captain. He was unwilling to say—a common thing among legionnaires.