The Captain would come and stand behind him as if reading his thoughts. “Aaiiyyaaii son; their fate for the time being is in the lap of the gods. You will fail them if you simply spend your time gazing into the distance. Your time to help them will come and you must be ready.” He handed Sumnar a knife and gestured for him to throw it at the target. Oddly, a picture of Neptune, painted onto the door of the Captain’s cabin. He was never certain why the pirate, who spent his time at the mercy of the sea, would look to taunt the gods so mercilessly. But it was just his way.
In the end though, despite these preparations, he had failed. Once in port he’d found the slave ship and climbed up the mooring rope to her decks in the dusk light. He lowered himself down the hatch and made his way quietly to the slaves’ quarters. He scanned through the iron bars looking for signs of his tribe and his sister. He could not hold in his euphoria when he found them; as their fingers reached out to each other through the bars, tears fell from both his and his sister’s eyes.
But then unnoticed behind him, a body raised itself from the shadows, slowly approached him, and the first he was aware of the danger was when he heard the swish of the cosh which cracked the bottom of his skull and he slumped to the floor.
*
Sumnar came to when a bucket of water was thrown over him. Though it took him a while to get his bearings, it did not take long to realise he was on his knees, his chest pressed against a barrel, and his arms stretched and lashed around it.
A cruel-looking man stood in front of him surrounded by a group of men who looked like sniggering hyenas, as he stroked the whip in his hand.
“Well boys, I don’t quite get it. Either we have here a volunteer, someone who’s stuck his hand up and said, ‘Yes please, the life of a slave, a life of misery for me!’” The men cackled.
“Or, or he was trying to break in and steal my slaves.”
“Steal them, steal them!” echoed his men, hissing under their breaths.
He pointed the handle of his whip and sneered at Sumnar. “Which is it?” But he wafted his hand, disposing of any need for a response.
“Well it does not matter, slave or thief; what do we do to them?”
“We whip ’im, whip ’im,” chirped his men.
“If you say so,” the slaver drew back his whip to strike. It was at this point that Sumnar’s life turned around for ever.
“Ahem,” coughed a voice.
The slaver turned and his eyes widened slightly at the sight of the nobleman standing behind him but he regained his composure.
“Oh pardon me, Sire. We caught this thief trying to steal my slaves. I was just about to whip his hide.” He smiled to reveal a row of crooked black teeth.
The nobleman nodded. “You are a slaver?”
“Indeed, Sire. I have the finest slaves,” he winked, “and concubines that you would wish for from the southern lands.”
There was a pause. “And you, what is your name?” Again there was a longer further pause. “The man tied to the barrel,” the nobleman added.
Sumnar tried to turn his head but could not as it was pressed too tight to the barrel. He could not see the man. “Sumnar, sir.”
“And what is your story?”
Sumnar had nothing to lose. “Sir, slavery is an abomination; it tears free-willed people from their homes and families to a life of misery and servitude. I followed this ship from the southern lands. My sister and my tribe people are on this ship. They are a proud nomadic tribe, and they do not deserve this. No man should forcefully enslave the will of another man.”
“So, you were trying to free the slaves?”
“Yes, sir.”
“All on your own?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, well,” he chuckled to himself.
“Well I am in a quandary.” He turned to the slaver. “I have to agree with Sumnar, that slavery should be eradicated from this earth. What would happen if I too stepped on board to free the slaves? Would you lash me to the barrel?”
The slaver shuffled from foot to foot uneasily. “Well, Sire, you being a nobleman, I reckon you would respect a man’s profession. But if not, be warned, my men and I have dealt with all sorts in the past. No one touches my slaves.”
The nobleman took one step forward, and in the same movement drew his sword and held its blade to the slaver’s throat. “All sorts maybe. But no one like me!” said the young nobleman.
“Urien, cut this man free. Keilif, take some men, free the slaves and bring them up onto the port side.”
Once free, Sumnar turned to look into the young nobleman’s face that had given him a reprieve. But before he could say anything, his sister ran down the gangplank and threw her arms around him.
Later that evening they sat round a table eating. Sumnar had just completed telling his story to the King and his two confidantes. The King shook his head and whistled through his teeth.
“I owe you my life, and I will for ever be in your debt.”
“Where will you go?” asked the King.
“I am not certain, we have nothing to go back to. The few that you saw on the boat are the remnants of my tribe.”
The King nodded. “May I make a suggestion? I am looking for courageous men to serve alongside me in Terramis. A man with your background and knowledge could teach us many things and would be welcome. As for the others. A young Lady of Terramis has married a wealthy merchant on an estate to the west of Lumines – Puregrove it is called. The rest of the tribe could work there, not as slaves, but free to come and go as they please. But the merchant is a good man; the work will be hard but honest, and they will be treated well.”
Sumnar bowed his head. “It is a kind and generous offer when we are already so much in your debt. Let me discuss these matters with my tribe and revert to Your Majesty in the morning.”
“Armanar,” said the King. “I will not have you call me anything but Armanar. We are equals.”
That night the King slept soundly, and he drifted off to the sounds of the drums and singing of the tribes people as they played their music long into the evening.
*
Queen Laila, Lady Amice and Rolden sat on the terrace of the villa. It stretched down to the cliffs, past the orchards, the olive groves and the pastures for the livestock. The sun was setting in the west. To the east, the city of Lumines was bathed in a golden pink glow from the last shadows of the day stretched across the land. Rolden poured some more wine for the Queen and Lady Amice.
Lady Amice continued, “I have spoken to my most intimate confidantes on the council. None were aware of the actions being taken by Ambassador Kelton; it may be that he is acting alone, or in cahoots with the Emissary of Gamura, Emissary Gowan.
The unknown is what High Commissioner Yip’s role is in this conspiracy, if any? If in any way High Commissioner Yip is colluding with the Emissary, given the attack on Ampheus, your life may be in mortal danger. Your Majesty, they will do anything to ensure you do not share this information with the council.
If Commissioner Yip has forged an alliance with Gamura, the Emissary’s men, and the High Commissioner’s personal guard, will be trying to find you and silence you.”
The Queen nodded. “I know the risks but I don’t think we have any alternatives. I must speak to the council, inform them of Gorath’s tyranny and implore Aquamura to send its army to Terramis’s defence. There is no allegiance with Gorath that is worth the parchment it is written on. Once Terramis is conquered he will come after the other realms. Let us not forget that it is not peace he desires. It is the totems and dominion over the whole Ancient World.”
“Anybody who would join Gorath for personal gain, whatever that is, likely may not live long enough to enjoy it,” added Rolden.
“So be it,” said Lady Amice. “The next council is in two days. We must conceal you and smuggle you into Lumines because at th
is point we do not know whom we can and cannot trust. If we need to reveal you to the council, then only in full view of the council will you be safe and your voice heard.
“It won’t be easy. Lumines is a tide city; it can only be accessed by two approaches. The first is the artery leading from the land to the main city gate. It is a man-made causeway of granite-cobbled stones that can only be passed for two hours at low tide. It is to be expected that security will now be tightened over this approach and they will be looking for you and your guard.
“The alternative approach is the deep-water port at the south of the island. It is a busy port, as you would imagine with much of the trade between the Four Realms and other lands channelled through the port. Fishermen, merchants: it is a bustle of activity. I believe this is perhaps the most advisable way to access the city; a small schooner could perhaps slip in undetected.”
The Queen nodded. “Rolden?”
“I agree it’s our best option, Your Majesty. I will flesh out the details with Lady Amice and her confidantes and then will run the final plan by you. Two days does not give us much time, however,” he said ruefully. “At least we only need to get you in. I don’t have to waste time on an escape plan.”
As they paused, the languid form of a slim woman walked into view like a sleek leopard padding across the savannahs. Her hair, lustrous and dark, tinted with a little grey, was perhaps the only betrayal of her age. Her skin was a smooth olive, her eyes the brightest blue.
The Queen stood up immediately as she saw the woman, a welcoming smile stretching across her face. The woman bowed her head and dropped to one knee.
“Your Majesty.”
“Narul,” urged the Queen. “What did I tell you last time I visited?” She leaned down and lifted the woman by her arms and the two embraced like old friends. “It’s been too long.”
“I hear from Lady Amice that Puregrove now has the finest vineyard in Aquamura. You have a magic touch with the vines.”
Narul smiled and leaned towards her conspiratorially. “Well, Your Majesty, the soil is rich, the hills are the perfect aspect to the south and the climate is temperate enough for the grapes to hold their flavour before ripening. It’s difficult to fail.”
“Nonsense, and you know it!”
“Well, I hope you enjoy it. The grapes are indigenous to the area, and you’ll not find the flavours anywhere else; the white has notes of apple, vanilla, honey and clove.”
“What about that brother of yours? We miss him at Ampheus,” asked the Queen. “Do you know what he’s up to?”
“Well you know my brother as well as I do. He’s probably up a mountain somewhere, talking to some scruffy, bearded and scantily clad hermit.”
“Right, I really don’t understand what he sees in such company.”
“Perhaps they tell funny anecdotes about mountain goats.”
“Maybe,” the Queen chuckled. “He’s definitely a restless soul.”
“Indeed, but that does not mean we miss him any less. I’m sure he’ll turn up again soon.”
“Yes, even he eventually tires of climbing mountains and never finding what he’s seeking for when he reaches the top.”
They laughed and embraced once more. “Now tell me more about this gem of a white wine.”
Chapter 17
Lumines
The Janshai were renowned for several things: their horsemanship, their ferocity in battle and their ability to track anything. It was the third of these that the five Janshai exhibited crossing the Unthank Marsh on the trail of Aron and his companions.
An old Janshai saying is: ‘A Janshai can track the path of a dandelion seed that has floated across a meadow a week ago, and despite the Janshai having a heavy cold’. It was not the nattiest of sayings, it had to be said.
The craft of tracking is taught to a Janshai from childhood. It takes a lot of patience as often you are looking for the minutest telltale signs, some of which may almost be invisible. A snapped twig, a leaf that has been disturbed and the compressed dust underneath a foot that pressed on the ground.
It required a heightened sense of their surroundings and what was natural and perhaps what may be subtly out of place.
That said, in this instance such delicate talents were not required. They were looking at a full imprint of a man in the mud. He had clearly fallen flat on his face and flailed about to try and extract himself.
They chuckled to themselves. “Well that makes tracking them easier. We should be able to smell this one from ten leagues away, even if he bathed in rose water for a week!”
They followed the companions’ trail and arrived at the central island where the outlanders foraged. As they approached they came across two outlanders horribly deformed from generations of inbreeding and living in the marsh. Barely clothed, hunched with gnarled limbs, their skin mottled with growths and rashes.
The outlanders dragged a body across the ground, each one holding an ankle. For once the Janshai took pity on two such forsaken souls. For they knew well the trials and suffering for those outcast from the world. The leader unsheathed his sword and lopped off their heads, freeing them from their misery.
Ten minutes earlier, Ugg and Ogg had been in deep conversation, while standing next to one of their fallen tribe. Not that you would have understood it as a deep conversation, as it was a series of grunts, tuts, clicks and growls. But a conversation it was and it went something like this:
“Well a man is much like a cow when you think of it, when you are preparing to eat one. It is just a series of different cuts. I like a nice bit of rib-eye personally,” and he toed the bottom of the body. “Or a nice rump roast on a Sunday, or even sausages, I do love my sausages!”
“But,” he paused. “All of a sudden I sense a profound epiphany I believe; is it wrong to be eating my father?” said Ugg.
“And he’s your step brother,” added Ogg.
“And let’s not forget he’s both your cousin and uncle,” said Ugg.
“No, this is morally wrong; the inbreeding and the cannibalism. We need change. Education and language for the younglings. Improvements in diet to raise our life expectancy, travel to broaden our experiences and a chance to add to the tribe’s gene pool.”
Ogg agreed. “Yes Ugg, you are right; it is a sad day for the tribe to have lost so many. This is a chance for a new dawn and a new future. Only you and I have vision to make this happen. Pick up your father and step brother’s left leg; I’ll take my uncle and cousin’s right leg. Let’s bury him, it is a fitting and respectful end to his journey on this earth!”
It was at this point that they heard a snap of a twig to their right. They glanced up to see five Janshai on their horses watching them. The first drew his sword and…
*
The Queen stood on the deck holding on to the gib of the schooner as it pitched and rolled on the sea beneath her. She was wearing a cloak to protect her from the sea chill. Her hood was down and the wind fanned her hair as it whipped over her shoulders. She could feel the sun and wind drying her skin.
Rolden and four knights accompanied her. A young lad, Tian, who would guide them through Lumines, and a further three men, who piloted the vessel.
The Captain was an uncle of one of Lady Amice’s stewards. A man of the sea. A simple man to be trusted. Not to be swayed by the political shenanigans of those who made their lives on the land. It was a small boat, perhaps forty feet long.
It rolled as the waves flowed from the prow, caressing the sides of the boat before slipping away from the stern in a churning wash. The Captain was charting a course up the coast to Lumines. They were making good time with a brisk wind behind them.
Lady Amice had journeyed earlier in the day. She intended to take the causeway to the main gate of Lumines and hence had to catch the low tide. It was agreed that this was a wise precaution. It would likely reduce any suspici
ons falling on Lady Amice in the event that the Queen was discovered.
It would also ensure that Puregrove would remain a haven. Not subject to further scrutiny and searches that could result if Lady Amice was in any way implicated.
Queen Laila peered back down the lines of the boat. Two knights were leaning over the side of the schooner, heaving the contents of their stomachs over the side.
“Rolden, I’d envisaged a more regal approach to Lumines. Not that I wanted to be escorted by a guard of honour and a chorus of trumpets. That’s just the way it is for royal visits. A strong odour of fish and a vomiting knight of the guard is certainly a novel way of doing it.”
Rolden looked up. “I am sorry, Your Majesty; this is why I am a knight of Terramis and not a sailor of Aquamura. Don’t worry, I’m sure I will get my land legs back soon enough once we are in port.”
They closed in on Lumines and the waterways got busier and busier. Seagulls shrieked above, rising and falling behind the fishing boats entering the port. Sailors shouted greetings or warnings as ships came too close to each other, using steering poles to guide the boats apart.
Large galleons and trading vessels anchored outside the harbour walls, with smaller tenders ferrying cargo to the inner docks for unloading.
As the schooner approached the harbour, the captain turned into the wind, stalling the vessel. It bobbed momentarily as the ocean took a grip of the boat without the wind’s steadying balance, and the captain dropped anchor. The boat drifted free until the tension took and the anchor held water, steadying the ship in the tide.
“This is as close as we can go, Your Majesty. I’ll remain here until dusk if you need me. Hopefully all this will be sorted and you’ll be able to ride safely out of the main gate and along the causeway.”
She smiled. “Thank you for help, I am in your debt.”
He touched the brim of his hat. “You’ve done enough. I can now refer to my little boat as the Royal Barge.” They both chuckled with each other. He looked towards the port and hollered at a small tender to come alongside. He took the hand of the Queen and lowered her into the tender. The four guards and the guide clambered down after her.
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