Gorgoroth (Haladras Trilogy Book 2)

by Michael Karr

  After several hours, they completed the bulk of their purchasing. Endrick was only too glad to be done with it. They walked out of a miller's shop, back out into the scorching sun, and headed back down one of the Gorge’s pathways. Midway down the path back to their transport, Skylar froze midstride. Endrick bumped into him from behind.

  “What are you trying to do?” cried Endrick.

  Skylar didn’t respond. He didn’t do anything. He felt he couldn’t move.

  There, coming up the path, was Kendyl.

  Five

  The Princess Shahra Hira Minka hunched over the ground on all fours, her body trembling convulsively. Blood mingled with sweat streamed down her face, dripping freely to the ground. All about her, the sand was stained with the blood from her wounds and those of the commander. Beside her, face down in that sand lay the commander’s body.

  Somewhere far away, a mass of voices roared like the storms of a hundred oceans. The sound beat and thrummed in the back of her head, pressed against her temples. Dizziness twisted her senses. Vaguely she was aware that her body was being hoisted off the ground. A flash of red sunlight struck her eyes. The roar grew louder. Cold wetness touched her lips.

  Water.

  Greedily she drank.

  Gradually, her senses regained some acuity. She saw the crowded arena, the people drunk with excitement. Four menservants carried her on a wooden pallet, parading her around the arena as the people cheered on. Not until they had arrived in front of the empress' box did the servants halt and let the princess down from the pallet. Too weak to stand on her own, she was supported by two of the menservants. A deep gash in her left thigh gushed forth a stream of blood. The empress curtly signaled to one of the servants, who promptly bound the wound with a bandage. The princess winched as he tightened it.

  With a raise of her arms, the empress silences the crowd.

  "People of Gorgoroth," she cried, "I present the champion—The Princes Shahra Hira Minka."

  More cheers.

  “Today, you have completed the first Trial, Princess. Go now and prepare for the next.”

  The princess bowed her head, and the manservant carried her to the sanatorium, where her wounds were dressed and her body mended. She had lost a great deal of blood. Wounds on her head, arms, and legs numbered more than she cared to count. No permanent damage, though. And she was alive.

  How close the commander came to killing me!

  Trembles overtook her body again. The female medic wiped her forehead with a damp cloth, spoke to her in a soothing voice.

  Unused to the tender nurture of another woman, the princess tensed and drew back her face from the cloth.

  Where is Rizain?

  He would not treat her so or speak calming words. Despite her inward protest, however, the princess soon let down her wall of stone. Her entire body relaxed. Shortly thereafter, she fell into heavy sleep. But even as her eyelids closed, and her mind gave way to her subconscious, she saw the body of the commander lying on the arena floor, blood pooled beneath him.

  A valiant warrior…

  * * *

  Rolander stood on his balcony looking out at the gray sky. Spring reigned uncontested on Ahlderon now. With it had come wind and rain from the north. And clouds. They shrouded the heavens and cast their gloomy mood on all the world below. Rolander felt that gloom keenly.

  A week had passed since he stood on that balcony, watching the Luna vanish into space. In his mind, he still saw it. He still imagined himself on it, not left behind. He didn’t know why he stood there watching. Perhaps deep down, he hoped that Skylar would come back for him. That Skylar would realize what a mistake it was to leave him behind.

  He shook his head. Foolish hopes.

  “You watch out here often,” said a voice from behind him.

  The voice momentarily startled him. He had not heard any footsteps, but he knew the voice belonged to Professor Jonobar. He turned around to face his tutor.

  “Do you expect your friend to return soon?” asked Jonobar.

  Rolander reddened a little in embarrassment. “No…I just…”

  Jonobar waved his hand for Rolander to stop.

  “I understand. There is no need to explain. We’ve all waited for something or someone we wished to come sooner than they did.”

  Jonobar took a step closer and extended his hand.

  “The breeze is cold. Won’t you come back in? There is a matter I should like to discuss with you.”

  Rolander noticed the chill in the air for the first time, and shivered a little. Of late, he’d often felt cold. An abnormal sort of cold—something he failed to put his finger on. The weather, he thought. This nasty weather.

  Stepping down from the balcony, he followed Jonobar back inside. They sat down in a couple of armchairs around Rolander's coffee table. Even my own room feels cold. He grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around himself.

  “Rolander,” said Jonobar, his voice official, “I’ve been impressed, thus far, with your academic performance. I must apologize, again, for the amount of testing. I’ve been trying to ascertain the limits of your knowledge and the aptitude of your brain. You’ve exceeded my expectations, frankly.”

  Rolander stifled a grinned.

  “I sense, however,” went on Jonobar, “that you are a bored with the core curriculum that I’m to teach you. That is why I’d like you to pick a subject matter of your own liking.”

  Rolander sat straight up.

  “Whatever subject I like?”

  “Within reason—yes. What interests you most?”

  Rolander hesitated. He knew what he wanted to study more than anything else. But would his tutor deem it appropriate? Or even know anything about it? He sank back in his seat. The professor leaned over to the coffee table, lifted the silver kettle from its burner, and poured two cups of the steaming infusion. He handed one to Rolander, then sack back and began sipping his own. Rolander held the drink up to his mouth but did not drink. The scent of lemon and cinnamon filled his nostrils.

  “Go on,” said Jonobar, casually. “You needn’t worry. I trust whatever it is represents a worthy academic pursuit.”

  Rolander brought the cup away from his mouth and set it down.

  “I’ve always wanted,” he began haltingly, “to study mechanics…automata. But not just read about them. I want to build them. Do you know anything…I mean, can you teach me about them?”

  Jonobar raised his eyebrows, took another sip of the infusion. Bringing the cup away from his lips, he took to stroking his unruly beard.

  “Automata,” he murmured, turning his gaze momentarily to the ceiling. “I have a basic working knowledge of the mechanics of automata. Though, not I think, sufficient to teach you what you are after.”

  Rolander knew it was too much to hope for. Not trying to hide his disappointment, he slouched back into his chair.

  “However,” went on the professor, “I do have an old colleague at Strybrn. He’s the head of the Mechanical Engineering department. An expert, you could say, in machines and automata.”

  Rolander sat up again in his chair.

  “I could write to him to ask for some guidance in this endeavor. Perhaps he could supply us with a curriculum and materials to build our own contraptions. I’m sure between the two of us, we can learn a great deal on the subject. How does that appear to you?”

  “Perfect!”

  “That settles it, then. I shall write to him this very afternoon and make the request. That should give you some time to think of a focus project. Nothing drives creativity and learning like the application of knowledge rooted in a worthy pursuit. One must not study to merely gain knowledge, but to create—to change his world for the better.”

  This idea stuck Rolander. Never had had truly considered what he might build. To build anything would please him beyond measure. He expressed these thoughts to his tutor, who began stroking his beard again.

  “Might I sugg
est, then, that we try building you a new hand?”

  Six

  Skylar panicked. He didn’t know what to do. Of all the people on Haladras he wished to see but couldn't, Kendyl was on the top of the list. Despite that, he couldn't help but stare at her. Her red hair still burned like a flame. And her face…

  Stop it! he chided himself. This was no time to get falling into a trance.

  “What is going on with ‘ya?” said Endrick loudly.

  If only the paths had been built wider. Then they might have been able to pass by Kendyl without her noticing them. So far, her eyes had remained trained on the ground. But once they reached her, she could have to look up. Was his disguise good enough to fool her? It was too risky to find out.

  “Turn around,” he hurriedly muttered to Endrick.

  “What! Turn around? What for?”

  “Just do it!”

  Rolling his eyes, Endrick turned around. Eager to get ahead, Skylar moved to pass Endrick. As he stepped, his foot caught on Endrick's ankle, and he tumbled to the ground. Breaking loose from his face, the desert shroud fell over the edge of the pathway. Scrambling on all fours, Skylar attempted to arrest its fall. But it escaped it reach and flitted down the face of the Gorge wall.

  He knew he should get up and keep walking the other way. Something inside him couldn't resist looking over. He could feel her looking at him. He'd already been caught. What good would running away do?

  Still, on all fours, he turned and looked over.

  Ther she stood, stopped on the path, her arms folded, and her blue eyes fixed directly on him. No warmth emanated from those eyes. For a moment he thought he detected a touch of sadness in them. It was only a moment before they flashed with coldness.

  “I don’t recall you ever wearing a desert shroud before, Skylar,” she said, her voice honed with a slight edge. “Or do you just wear it to avoid the people you don’t want to see. Like me, for instance?”

  Kendyl gave Skylar no time to respond before taking off back up the path. Momentarily stunned at the unexpected encounter, Skylar stood fixed to the spot, watching her walk away.

  “Let her go,” said Endrick. “Dames always lead to trouble.”

  Skylar sighed. Endrick was right. He should let her go.

  “Be right back.”

  He hurried up the path after her.

  “Let her go!” came Endrick voice from behind.

  When he caught up with her, he tried to get her to stop. She kept walking stolidly forward. She refused even to look at him.

  “Kendyl, I wasn’t just trying to hide from you,” he said.

  “Oh? So, you were trying to hide from me and everyone else. Thanks, that makes me feel much better.”

  She kept walking.

  “That’s not what I meant. It’s just that…I can’t let anyone know I’m on Haladras. No can know why I came.”

  “Whatever you came for, it obviously didn’t include me.”

  “I wanted to see you. I’ve wanted to see you for a long time. It’s just—”

  “You’re too busy. I know. Well, I happen to be in a hurry myself. So, please just leave me alone.”

  This was too much for Skylar. He grabbed her arm and forced her to stop.

  “Will you not talk to me for one minute?” he pleaded.

  “Now you want to talk to me? After pretending I didn’t exist for over a year? Please, let me go. I’m going to be late.”

  With that, she yanked her arm free of his grasp and continued marching up the path.

  “Kendyl, you don’t understand,” he called after her. “I never forgot about you. I think about you every day.”

  “And it really shows in the way you’ve treated me,” she called over her shoulder as she kept walking.

  Skylar bowed his head in defeat. He let her go and dejectedly walked back to Endrick.

  “I warned you,” said Endrick.

  “Let’s just go,” said Skylar.

  At the bottom of the Gorge, Skylar found the desert shroud and returned it to his face. Though, now he felt he didn’t care who saw him.Later, they met Grüny at a hostelry in the Gorge, near Skylar’s old home. When they told the old ship captain of the chosen destination to continue their search, he acted unsurprised.

  “You always were a crazy lot,” he said, trying to speak in a low tone, yet still be heard over the noise of the crowded dining hall. “You can’t get to or come from Gorgoroth legally. That’s not our main problem, though. The Luna—she can’t take us there.”

  A loud shout, followed by a chorus of laughter made Skylar look over at the bar. The bartender had grabbed a gangly-looking man by the back of his neck and was escorting him out of the hall. The onlookers found this immensely entertaining, especially as the man kept losing his balance and falling to the stone floor. Skylar shook his head and turned back to his companions huddled around a small table in the corner.

  “Why not?” he asked. “Surely the distance is not too great.”

  “I should think it’s a great deal too far,” said Endrick.

  Grüny cast a sidelong look of annoyance at Endrick.

  “It’s not about the distance—she’s plenty capable. No, the problem is that the Luna is an Ahlderion vessel. We can’t go waltzing into Gorgoroth in her without attracting all kinds of unwanted attention. Their sentries will swarm us like bees to a hive.”

  “So, we need one of their ships?” said Skylar in dismay.

  “Afraid so.”

  “I don’t buy it,” replied Endrick. “What man in his right mind would pay the Luna a second thought? She doesn’t look like any Ahlderion ship I ever saw.”

  “Is there no way we can get there, then?”

  Grüny motioned faintly with his bald head to the right. A sign that told Skylar to hold his talk. After a moment’s silence, their waitress arrived at the table, deposited three mugs of hydromel, and bustled off to her other patrons. Grüny watched her out of the corner of his eye. After a moment, he spoke again.

  “Oh, we can get there. It’s not the safest way to travel, though. We’ll need to find smugglers.”

  “Smugglers?”

  Grüny nodded his head. “That’s right. Thought your kingdom free from such illegal activity, did ya? It’s more common than you think. They’re careful not to get caught, mind you. Won’t catch any of their ships coming or going directly from any planet of Tor. Have you heard of a planet called Oon Vunda?”

  “Only that it’s located outside the bounds of the empire. A lot of outlaws flee there.”

  "More than just outlaws. Every kind of crook, scoundrel, and swindler find their way to Oon Vunda. And that's the best of the lot. There's no government to speak of. Fear of crossing some murderous goon keeps the planet from utter chaos and anarchy."

  “Sounds like a lovely place,” said Endrick. “Do you visit often?”

  "I have been more times than I care to remember. It's a dangerous place. But it's the only one you'll find regular traffic between Ahlderon and Gorgoroth. Smugglers pilfer goods from Ahlderon and taken them to Oon Vunda, where they sell them in street markets, or to other smugglers, who take the goods to Gorgoroth to sell on the black market. Goods are not the only thing smuggled, though."

  “You mean they smuggle people, too?” said Skylar.

  “That’s right,” said Grüny with a grim smile.

  Skylar immediately understood what Grüny was suggesting, and he didn’t like it.

  “I’m not sure about that idea. How can we know we can trust them?”

  “You wake up in the morning without your throat slit,” said Endrick.

  “There’s no guarantee,” replied Grüny. “As a rule, smugglers are not trustworthy. But I happen to know a bloke in the smuggling trade. Did him a favor or two in my younger days. He owes me one. His name’s Deznin. If anyone can get us to Gorgoroth, he can.”

  Skylar looked down at his mug of hydromel. The dark amber color, swirled with
thin white froth reminded him of Maud’s cooking. Things would have been simpler if he had stayed on Ahlderon—safer, too.

  “Can we not hire a different vessel on Oon Vunda? One of the Tor’s ships.”

  "Oh sure. But few ship captains who are willing to take you to Gorgoroth are any more trustworthy than a smuggler. Smugglers you can at least count on making the full journey—they have goods to sell on the other side. Whereas a hired vessel…well, the captain could go halfway, dispatch with his passengers, then turn right back around. He has no need to reach the appointed destination. And it does happen—as terrible as it may seem."

  “What about buying our own ship? Such a purchase would hardly put a dent in the royal treasury. And we could sell it back when we’re through with it.”

  “Oh, sure,” said Endrick. “Krom will love that. Using treasury monies to buy a Tor shuttle.”

  Grüny shook his head. “We’d be asking to have our throats slit walking around with that kind of money on Oon Vunda. Besides, they don’t deal in imperial dooks. We’d have to get the money exchanged. As soon as we did that, word would get out.”

  “Then I suppose,” said Skylar slowly, “your smuggler friend is our best option.”

  “Great plan,” replied Endrick. “No chance anything could go wrong.”

  That night they began preparing for their journey to Oon Vunda. Grüny studied star charts. Many years had passed since he last traveled to the rogue planet. He wanted to be sure of the best route. Two weeks, Grüny calculated they would have to travel before reaching Oon Vunda. Once they reached the port city of Kotri, they would re-stock their food, buy more appropriate garments, and locate Grüny’s friend.

  “I want the both of you well armed,” said Grüny, “before we leave for Oon Vunda. I’m not gonna traipse around the streets of Kotri without plenty of weapons for all of us.”