Tarrin Kael Firestaff Collection Book 2 - The Questing Game by Fel ©

by James Galloway (aka Fel)

  He spent most of the night pacing back and forth in his cabin with Allia dozing on the bed. She was there to calm him down if he got too worked up, but he wasn't enraged, he was simply irritated. Nearly humiliated, for some strange reason, though he had no idea why the event would embarass him. He had brought up the mast section, with Faalken's help. He had done everything he could do to help get the ship seaworthy again, even more, so there was no rightly reason for him to feel humiliated, even at what Sarraya did to them. And yet it was there. And he had no idea why. That irritated him more than anything else about the whole episode. It was probably that the Faerie had known she could lift the mast, and had let them do it themselves. It was humiliating to think that she could do something easily which he could not. Without his Sorcery and with his injury, he was weakened, less than whole, and the Cat in him was very sensitive to that dangerous situation. In the wild, the injured were often singled out and killed by the uninjured, and the instinct of self-preservation kept him very aware of that. It was probably why he seemed even more nervous around the humans than normal, knowing that he was injured and weak, easier prey for any lurking hunter or enemy.

  But there was only so much time that Tarrin could stay angry when Allia's scent was filling his nose. Just the smell of her had a soothing effect on him, reminding him of the powerful bond that they shared. He looked to her, to her sleeping form, and marvelled yet again at how exquisitely lovely the Selani was. Sometimes it was easy for him to forget that, since he saw her every day. Always quiet, yet knowing exactly what to say when she did speak, she was the foundation upon which Tarrin based his life, his very sanity. He loved her effortlessly, easily, an unbounded affection that transcended even his understanding sometimes. Even if they were married, he could not love her any more, and yet thoughts of Allia like that were alien to him. It was a different kind of love, a platonic bond between Selani and Were-cat that brought them together over their many differences in outlook and culture. Seeing her sleeping there was enough to break his temper, and he gave up on being angry, changed form, and curled up beside her and went to sleep.

  That contentful doze was shattered by a savage searing pain in his tail. Tarrin was startled awake, yowling and hissing even as he became aware that something was seriously hurting his tail. He tried to pull away, but found himself being shaken by his tail, until he felt the flesh and bone of it give and pull away. Tarrin scrambled forward with blood spurting from the end of his severed tail, and turned to see one of the drakes with about four fingers of his tail in its mouth!

  Tarrin slid unceremoniously off the bed and twisted to land on his feet, pain and shock giving way to a sudden unmitigated fury. Allia was scrambling in the other direction, also startled awake by Tarrin's howling, and she looked at him just in time to see him change form. His tail grew back in that transformation, and two green pools of unholy fury settled firmly on the small body of the little green-scaled drake. "Why you little--" he began, but he lost his ability to think rationally as the instincts of the Cat roared over his awareness.

  The drake seemed to understand that it had gone too far. It turned and flew out the door in a panic, but Tarrin wasn't about to simply let it get away. He shattered the door as he raced after it, charging down the companionway as it flew back towards the hold. It flew through the open doorway and went up, and Tarrin followed in time to see it fly through a small hatch at the top, that led to the deck.

  People on deck dove and fell in shock when Tarrin's body exploded through the deck itself seconds after one of Phandebrass' drakes flew from the opening, sending wooden shards flying in every direction. His eyes were lit from within with his anger, and a mask of rage was twisting his features as he continued to ascend after the flying reptile, claws on his paw reaching for it.

  It almost got away. Tarrin's paw closed over the end of its tail, and its body sagged as the Were-cat yanked it out of the air as he fell back to the deck. It made no sound when Tarrin's feet hit the wood, and he carried the drake over his head and slammed it into the deck with enough force to send blood flying out of its maw and split its scaly hide in several places. It did not move, laying limply on the deck when he let go if it and stared viciously down at the little monster.

  Sarraya got there first. She stared down at the dead drake and then gaped at him. "Tarrin, you killed him!" she gasped. "Why, for the forest's sake!"

  "It bit off my tail!" Tarrin raged at the little Faerie, turning and padding away resolutely. "Now it knows better," he added with an ominous hiss, as the performers rushed over to look.

  "Oh, poor little thing," one of the dancers, Deidre, said sadly. "Phandebrass is going to be heartbroken."

  "Move," a strong voice called, and Camara Tal broke through the ring of performers. She looked down at the drake and said nothing, but the look in her eyes said it all.

  "Can you heal it, Camara Tal?" Sarraya asked meekly.

  "If you can peel it off the deck," Camara Tal snorted.

  "Oh, please, you have to try!" Sarraya said with sincere concern. "It may not be dead yet!"

  "Why do you care, bug?" Camara Tal asked directly as she knelt by the limp form. She put a hand on her amulet and then reached down and put her fingers on the reptile. "I heard about what you did to Tarrin and Faalken. Caring about others isn't exactly your strong suit."

  Sarraya only gave the Amazon a stricken look. Camara Tal glanced into her small face, then looked down at the drake. "Consider yourself lucky, bug," she grunted. "This is a tough little rat." Camara Tal's amulet began to glow with a golden radiance, and that golden touch transfered to her hand. It limned over the body of the drake, and where its golden glow touched it, its injuries faded. The drake's eyes fluttered open, and it tried to struggle to its feet. "Someone take it back to Phandebrass, and tell him to put a leash on it," the Amazon ordered of the performers. She turned on Sarraya and poked a finger into the chest of the hovering Faerie, sending her back a span. "I know you had something to do with this, bug," she accused. "That look you gave me told me everything I need to know. Your games nearly got that rat killed, and that would have made Phandebrass very unhappy. If you don't stop these stupid games, someone alot more important than a living leather belt is going to die. Would you like to have some real blood on your hands, bug? Well?!"

  The Faerie stared at her a moment, then burst into tears, hiding her face in her hands.

  "I thought not. Now get out of my sight before I do something nasty to you," she grated, sweeping past the Faerie and stomping off.

  The Faerie retreated from the accusing looks of the performers, who had heard it all, and spent a long time sitting on a rail looking out into the sea. She stayed there, in full view of everyone, until Dar approached her near sunset. "You can't just stay here forever," he said gently.

  "I never meant to get Turnkey hurt," she sniffled. "I told him that the cat would play with him. He got too rough. Now everyone hates me, Tarrin probably wants to kill me, and I made a fool of myself. I want to go home," she sniffled petulantly.

  "Tarrin's mad at you, but you know how he is. Just give him time, and he'll get over it. But I hope this tells you that a little fun is a good thing, but too much is a bad thing."

  Sarraya nodded solemnly before sniffling again. "I just found out that being bored is better than feeling guilty," she admitted.

  "Just remember that," Dar told her calmly.

  Sarraya was quiet a moment. "Thank you for being nice to me," she said sheepishly.

  "We all make mistakes, Sarraya," he said sagely. "Just don't do it again."

  "I won't. I promise."

  "That's good enough for me. Do you happen to play chess? I'm trying to find someone more my skill level. Allia, Faalken, and Tarrin destroy me every time."

  "You'll have to teach me," Sarraya said with a sniffle, looking up at Dar with bright, apologetic eyes. "At least you'll have someone you can beat."

  "With my luck, probably only for a few days," Dar grunted as Sarraya flitted o
ff the rail and flew alongside the young Arkisian.

  "Looks like Dar got through to her," Camara Tal grunted to Dolanna. The two were on the steering deck, watching on as Dar did what they told him to do. Of all of them, Dar was the most compassionate, and that strange way about him that made everyone like him made him perfect to help Sarraya get over her humiliation and try to get along with everyone else. Dar's unconscious charisma had worked its magic on Sarraya, getting her to open up to him and make agreements that she wouldn't have made with anyone else. "It's weird how he can say exactly what we'd say, but she reacts completely differently to him than she would to us."

  "Dar has a special gift, Camara Tal," Dolanna replied calmly, watching the young man walk towards the bow. "His compassion shines from him like a gentle light, beckoning all who look upon it. His is a pure heart."

  Camara Tal nodded in agreement, crossing her arms beneath her breasts and leaning against the rail, putting her back to the Arkisian. "Let's just hope the bug keeps her word," she grunted. "Phandebrass about had a conniption when he found out what she did to his pet. Let's not even talk about Allia and Tarrin, and Faalken's starting to look at her with a fly swatter in his eyes."

  "We can always hope, Camara Tal," Dolanna replied seriously, looking to the west, to the setting sun. "We are starting to run out of time. We cannot afford petty squabbles among ourselves."

  "We can't afford much of anything now," she grunted in assent. "Renoit told me we have to be there before midsummer. We're going to cut a very fine line as it is. The storm didn't help."

  "No, it did not," Dolanna agreed. "With the favor of both our goddesses, may we get there on time. So much depends upon it."

  "Everything depends on it, Dolanna," Camara Tal said seriously, looking at her. "Everything."

  GoTo: Title EoF

  Chapter 18

  "This is a waste of time!" Tarrin snorted adamantly, standing up and looking down the small difference in heights between him and the Amazon. They were sitting on the deck of the ship, near the bow, sitting under a hot summer sun. Camara Tal had brought him up there and sat him down, then had quickly and calmly started teaching him the Amazon language.

  Right at first, Tarrin had been intrigued. He had a natural talent to learn languages, and any language he couldn't speak was like a challenge to him, just teasing him into learning it. But after only an hour of sitting there, the close proximity of the Amazon had begun to wear at him. Camara Tal was not trusted, and though he could speak to her, the long concentrated exposure to her had worn away at what little patience he had.

  At least nobody blamed him over the drake. It had been three days since that incident, since they'd finished the repairs and got under way again, and there weren't any accusing looks. Everyone knew that the Faerie had tricked the drake into going in there and biting him, and Tarrin had reacted only within his own nature. But where he'd come out of it more or less unscathed, Sarraya was another matter. She had been sincerely remorseful about the whole episode, and had delivered a teary apology to him the day after. Tarrin was still pretty angry with her, but the heartfelt feeling behind her words made him accept it immediately and without question. She really did feel sorry for what happened. She had never meant for the drake to bite him, only to go in there and play with him. Camara Tal had saved the drake's life with her healing magic, and now it absolutely would not leave Phandebrass' presence. For those three days, Sarraya had been subdued and quiet, sitting more or less by herself or with Dar, trying to fade into the background.

  The storm and the mess with the drake hadn't been good for his nerves. He'd been edgier than usual since then, and had forced himself to keep clear of the performers rather than risk an incident. He'd been sleeping in his cabin through most of the day, coming out only at sunset when all the chores and the practices were done. It was when all the humans were more or less sedentary until bed, sitting together in groups and enjoying singing or the playing of instruments, where he could find a secluded part of the deck and enjoy the outside without risking someone getting hurt.

  "Sit down," Camara Tal said cooly, sitting down herself. She looked up at him with that stare, and part of him felt nearly compelled to obey her out of hand. She went back to what she was doing, shaping a piece of wood left over from the storm with a small, very sharp knife. Tarrin had seen that before, because Walten used to do it all the time. She seemed to be quite skilled at it, because already a very basic form had begun to appear in the wood. "We're not here to yell at each other," she continued. "We're here because you don't trust me. We're taking some quiet time to get to know each other a little better. I can teach you much more about me by teaching you my language. It would be nice to hear someone speak something civilized," she muttered.

  "Why?"

  "That's a stupid question," she said calmly. "Now sit down."

  Tarrin stared down at her for a long moment, weighing the consequences of walking away with the curiosity at learning her language. It was more than that. Tarrin liked Camara Tal, but he just didn't trust her. It was the same with Phandebrass. It was a strange feeling to like someone, yet not trust them, but that was how he felt about them. It was why he could speak to them amiably and enjoy their company, he just wouldn't put himself in a position where they could do him harm. Sitting alone with the Amazon near the bow, well away from any of his friends, definitely qualified in his mind as a dangerous situation.

  "Our situation requires trust, Tarrin," she said calmly. "I can't protect you if you won't turn your back on me. You'll be so worried about me that you won't see the real threat when it comes at you. I had a long talk with Dolanna about you, and she explained to me what I have to do to win over your trust. So here we are."

  "What do you mean?" he asked suspiciously.

  "Here we are, well away from everyone else. All I have is this little knife, and we both know that it really won't do anything to you. If you'll notice, I'm not even wearing my amulet. I'm completely defenseless. If I trust you enough to sit alone with you without protection, you can afford me the courtesy of sitting there and learning something you want to know in the first place."

  Tarrin looked her over. She didn't have her swordbelt, and as she claimed, she wasn't wearing her amulet. There was no silver smell anywhere on her, and that proved that she wasn't hiding it. Then again, with as little as she wore, he couldn't fathom where she could possibly conceal anything. She was indeed defenseless. Her little whittling knife wouldn't do much more than make him angry, and without weapons or magic, she was simply no match against him, no matter how well trained she was. Tarrin realized that he had a clear superiority over her, and that she could perpetrate no threat on him. His amicable nature towards her smoothly overwhelmed his suspicions, and he sat back down while assuming a much less hostile body language.

  "That's much better," she said calmly, turning the piece of wood over in her hands. She blew at the raven-colored bangs that drifted into her face, the short hair that couldn't reach the tail in which she kept her thick mass of long hair. Her almond colored eyes regarded him calmly, then returned to the piece of wood in her hands. Tarrin looked at her, and he realized that for the first time in a very long time, he saw no incipient danger in a human he didn't already know. Camara Tal seemed to be completely at ease with him, and her act of trust had lodged itself in his mind. He looked at her, and marvelled again at how pretty she was, how strong. She was very intimidating, but seeing her like that removed that oppressive edge that she kept about herself. She was much less dangerous than she seemed. Hers was a subtle strength, owing only a small portion to her height and her physical prowess. Her strength radiated from within her, a power of confidence and faith that gave the sensation that she was invincible to those who gazed upon her.

  "Why do Amazons still keep men enslaved?" Tarrin asked impulsively. "Surely you realize it's not necessary."

  "Sometimes customs aren't necessary," she replied easily. "And men aren't slaves. They are property. But if you look
at the customs of Draconia and Tykarthia, you'll see that the women there are the property of their husbands when they marry. What we do isn't all that much different from what societies up here do. We're just alot more honest about it." She turned the wood over again and started shaving at a corner. "Men are owned by their mothers or their wives if they're noble, or whoever happens to have their paper when they're commoners. They still have rights, though. A woman can't just beat up her man whenever she feels like it. It's not only dishonorable in the eyes of our goddess, it's against the law. And since you've seen Koran Tal, I'm sure you realize that any woman brazen enough to hit a man should be ready to get back what she's giving."

  "But he's still property. He can't do what he wants."

  "That's the way things are," she shrugged. "I'd probably feel differently if I was born with different equipment, but that's the way we do things. It may be right or it may be wrong, but it works for us. And that's all that really matters."

  "Don't the men object?"

  "Not really," she replied. "Men aren't slaves, boy. I don't know how many times I have to tell you that. As long as a man's well treated, why buck the system? Women who don't treat men well tend to end up dead. A man is more than capable of killing a woman. You don't think Koran Tal could tan my hide if he was mad enough? He's no weakling."

  "Then why don't they revolt and make things equal?"

  "Because there are two women for every man," she replied. "About a thousand years ago, a plague killed almost all our men, a plague that the women couldn't contract. It required us to make changes in the way we do things. Well, our population still hasn't equalized yet, mainly because most of us don't like the idea of mothering children from outlanders. They're smaller and weaker than pureblooded Amazon children. Besides, it's been so long since then, the new society is too deeply seated. Nobody wants to change things back to the way they were now. It works, and that's all that really matters in the end."