A Question of Power (The Fire Chronicles Book 2)

by Susi Wright

  The companions flew over the jutting rocks on the far side of the headland, out of sight from the town, alighting on a ledge fifty metres above the beach to survey the scene. The small cove was secluded, protected from large breakers by an arc of limestone cliffs. Out to sea and and to the far horizon, the ocean reflected the rose-pink and blue of the dawn sky. To their right, the orange orb began to peep above the opposite clifftops, bathing first their torsos as they stood on the ledge, then the cove’s beach below, with the first light of day.

  The water was crystal clear, every detail below its surface revealed by the sun’s benevolent rays. Several large, fat rock-cods could be seen swimming lazily in the shallows close to the rocks. Spearing one would be child’s play for any Gaian with a sword, but one glance between them agreed to ignore the easy quarry in favour of some much-needed excitement. They swooped down to the beach and removed their cloaks, tunics and boots, retaining only their leggings and sword belts. Placing the other things neatly on the dry sand beside Xandor’s bow and quiver, they returned at a run to the base of the cliff.

  Xandor led the way, scaling the rock face hand over hand, grunting and laughing with the exertion. He sorely needed some action: this, and what followed, would do for now. The two climbed all the way along and to the top of the headland, where there was a large rocky overhang. Down below, the waves crashed violently in white spume and spray against the base of the cliff. Xandor and Sumar exchanged an excited grin, before taking a sudden headlong dive into the whirling, cold, white water.

  Down, down they dived, swimming strongly against the tearing currents; both were excellent in underwater skills, able to hold their breath for long periods like any Gaian warrior. The breakers buffeted them dangerously, tossing them like flotsam at times, but they were completely confident in using the current to their advantage – have fun with it – they swerved and dived like porpoises, enjoying every exhilarating second. Pushing their lungs almost to bursting, they continued the game with the waves as long as possible, then a series of strong arm strokes took them deep below the turbulent surface to the base of the cliff, into an underwater cave where the water was relatively quiet.

  The two friends trod water, saving the remainder of their breath, just outside the small cave mouth and peered into the blackness. As they expected, hiding within were three large glow lobsters, their bodies flickering a patterned luminous purple in the dark. Sumar nodded to Xandor, allowing him the honour of spearing just one of them, more than sufficient for their present needs. In a heartbeat, Xandor drew his sword and skewered one of the two male lobsters, then followed Sumar’s lead underwater back towards the beach. They broke the surface in the calm water of the cove and swam ashore, gasping for air, but glad for the exercise and very hungry. Hastily dressed and grateful for the flint in their satchel, they wasted no time in cooking the lobster over a small fire on the beach.

  Their swim had been bracing. The water was still chilly at this time of year even though the weather was beginning to warm up. Sharing the delicacy supplied by Nature in her goodness, they relaxed, knowing it would be several hours yet until they should return to the brothel to continue their watch. The next hour would be well-spent in meditation.

  Replete from the meal, the warriors went in different directions to attend the call of nature and each chose a place to meditate alone. Sumar settled cross-legged on the warming sand at one end of the quiet beach, while Xandor flew over the opposite headland looking for a large flat rock jutting from the cliff, overlooking the sea. He preferred the novelty of the regular sound of the waves breaking to help gather his thoughts.

  As he skirted the headland, the ideal place presented itself: the cliff face rose from the sea for a hundred metres in three large rock tiers, each with a smooth flat surface. Choosing the middle one, three-quarters of the way up, he swooped down, landed lightly on his feet and sat with his back against the rock face. He remembered Churian’s instruction to find a mantra for focus, feeling the need more than ever before to clear his mind. Taking several deep breaths, he slowly surveyed the scene before him, letting his eyes gaze first out to sea, allowing the sound of the breakers to soothe him and begin to wash away his many rampant thoughts.

  Bringing his attention in closer, he started to concentrate on the waves below, breaking on the rocks, then on each nook and cranny in the base of the cliff. Suddenly startled, he caught sight of a man’s body lying in a large crevice a hundred metres down to his left. The crumpled form seemed lifeless. Even from this distance, Xandor could see the extent of the injuries would have proved fatal. He launched himself into the air and swooped down to take a closer look.

  By the pallour and stiffness of the body, it was obvious the man had fallen or jumped from the top (or been thrown) some days ago. The head had been caved in by the fall and all the limbs lay at odd angles. The clothes, torn and bloodied, were without doubt finely-tailored, the clothes of a man of some financial means. Xandor wondered if the wretch had been robbed.

  Searching the body, he noted there were no sword or dagger wounds; he checked for a ring or amulet that might provide an ensignia, a clue to the man’s identity, but found nothing except a crumpled letter. With difficulty, he prised it from the rigid fingers. Straightening out the note did nothing to help him decipher the words which danced before his eyes, since had never been taught to read. He wondered if Sumar had been lucky enough to have studied words or knew the numbers past ten, as he neatly folded the parchment and put it carefully in his satchel to show his friend later. Turning his attention to the pockets of the bloodstained tunic, he was surprised to discover a soft bovino-hide purse still on the dead man’s person. So he has not been robbed. Opening the drawstrings revealed many more than ten silver and gold coins within, a small fortune even by human standards. Xandor stared incredulously for several moments before he could move. No more could be done on the matter before consulting with Sumar. The opportunity to meditate lost to him now with the excitement of this new development, he placed the pouch in his own pocket and flew back to the beach to interrupt his comrade’s contemplation.

  Employing caution since he knew Sumar would be deep in meditation, Xandor landed on the beach fifty paces away, calling out a greeting. Coming suddenly upon a Gaian warrior in a meditative state could mean certain death: lightening-fast reflexes with the sword would see any would-be attacker run through before the blink of an eye. As it was, Sumar was instantly on his feet in a defensive stance, almost expectant, quickly recognising Xandor. His expression, at first puzzled, became mildly reproachful that the younger warrior had not spent the required length of time in contemplation and had also put a stop to his own valuable meditation. However, Sumar’s humility and awareness allowed him the patience to wait in silence for Xandor to explain the pressing reason for the interruption.

  Xandor’s eyes met those of his Gaian brother apologetically. “Hie, Sumar, there is the dead body of a human in the rocks back there!” He indicated in the direction he had just come. “Come, have a look. . .it is a mystery. He still had money on him!” Pulling out the weighty pouch, he showed the contents to Sumar, who didn’t seem surprised. Xandor soon realised the more perceptive man would have sensed something, possibly the very moment when Xandor had stopped meditating and first spotted the body.

  “And this letter. . .” Xandor handed over the folded parchment with a hopeful look. Sumar took it, aware that the shortfalls in his companion’s mental abilities and academic education was the cause for no little embarrassment in Xandor’s mind. He purposely made no effort to hide his own struggle to decipher the handwritten words, noting with slight amusement the flash of consolation that flared in the younger man’s eyes to discover that Sumar was not perfect at everything.

  “I do not find this easy either, brother!” Sumar frowned as he studied the foreign words scrawled across the scrap of parchment in his hand. Luckily the message was not lengthy, but the fact that the ink was fading slightly from several day’s exposure t
o the damp sea-spray did not help his efforts to read it. His powers of perception, however, already told him much about the emotions behind the letter as he held the token and read the aura attached to it, rather than what was written.

  “There is much sadness, regret and jealousy – even desperation – involved in this matter,” said Sumar. “It will become certain when I touch the body because the aura lingers for some days after death.” Rather than taking to the air, he started on foot towards the headland, knowing it would be easier to read the note to Xandor while they walked.

  Haltingly, he read out loud, translating into Gaian as he went. Darien, husband, I have waited. . .long . . .to tell. I know. . .you have no people – no – family, or friends. . .but that is. . .blame – no – your fault. You are too selfish. . .I no longer stay out of. . .pity. My heart. . .goes – no – belongs to. . .another. Do not wait – no – expect. . .to see me again. I am. . .sorry. Lady Elena. “Cruel Fate, for Darien it seems! That explains the lingering emotions, does it not, my friend?”

  Xandor commented wryly, “That did not seem so difficult, for you, my friend!” He smiled with reluctant admiration.

  Brushing off the jibe, Sumar flung out his cloak and took to the air, followed by Xandor and they were beside the dead body in seconds. With his younger companion watching studiously, Sumar laid his hands gently on the torso and focussed. The violence of Darien’s death and the extreme nature of the associated emotions made Sumar’s conclusion easy. “It is clear. . .he ended his own life!” He looked at Xandor with sympathy for the unfortunate man, adding sagely, “ ‘Tis true, selfishness brings loneliness to everyone!”

  Xandor nodded in agreement. “Now, we must consider, what is to be done.” He stood from his crouch and moved a short distance away. Sumar joined him on a large flat boulder to consult on a course of action. Sumar’s perception was invaluable now but the final decision always fell to Xandor as the leader

  He spoke first. “The most honourable thing would be to report the death to the local authorities, but the way things are, that could become very complicated for us. We are strangers, even if we disguised our true nature to appear human. They might accuse us of murder, despite the note. At best, we would be detained and have to wait for the outcome of a lengthy investigation.”

  “Yes, brother, using conventional moral sense, that would be right and I must tell you that I have a bad feeling about that choice – I do not think we can trust the marshals here.” Sumar glanced back in the direction of the seaside town. His strong perceptive sense told him that taking the matter to any human authority on this island would open a pandora’s box of complications, none of which would bode well for them, or their quest. Contrary to its holy name, the Isle of Angels was full of pirates and cut-throats, ruthless traders and corrupt officials. The aura of avarice and greed hung like a pall over the settlement.

  “So, if we avoid that course, we can deal with it quickly – take the matter into our own hands. We know from the letter, the unfortunate man has no one who would miss him, or afford him any special care, and we are more than able to give him a suitable burial in a quiet place, recite the special prayers for the Lonely. That could be accomplished in no time at all. I believe his soul would have more chance of finding the companionship of the Ancestors that way!” Xandor made the suggestion with some confidence, glancing at his elder for confirmation.

  “Compassion agrees.” Sumar remembered all too well the the many occasions when he had been responsible for similar burials after he had come upon the lonely, lifeless bodies of fallen Gaian warriors who had first lost family and clan, only to lose their own lives in the wars, fighting for lost causes. Sometimes the body and clothing were recognisable, the victim only recently slain and left to rot. Sometimes it was only a faint aura that could be detected lingering over their bones. Having no one to take due care in one’s burial was a very sad thing. Loneliness was a common feeling for members of their race. Small clans and individuals had been separated and scattered to the corners of the Known World by persecution and war. Once a proud and powerful race, Gaians had long been losing touch with their heritage and their magic; many deliberately forgot these things, in an effort to leave the pain behind. Shaking off the memories and sad thoughts, Sumar brought his attention back to his companion. He felt, more than ever, committed to this quest. “Above all, loyalty to our mission dictates we keep our focus, and choosing that course would leave us free to do so.” Sumar smiled assurance.

  “Now, if we can not trust the authorities – and your feeling suggests that – what to do with the coin, is another matter. It would be entirely another quest to find the man’s wife in order to give her the money, would it not?” Xandor was a little confused as to whether keeping the purse at this point would constitute stealing.

  “Certainly, giving it to corrupt authorities would amount to throwing it off a cliff!” said Sumar with a mirthless smile.

  “Perhaps the money would be well-placed in our cause, helping others find a reason to live!” exclaimed Xandor, feeling much more confident.

  Sumar had a wealth of personal experience. “We will have many dealings with humans in the course of our quest, good and evil, the line between right and wrong will become blurred at times, and unfortunately, coin could prove to be a constant and necessary evil!”

  “So, it is decided.” Xandor’s statement needed no further discussion.

  As the sun rose to its zenith in the clear blue spring sky, the two companions arrived back at Tuli, making their way directly back to the red-light area; the streets were much quieter since the inhabitants in this part of town were all sleeping. The two men resumed their vigil from an alley opposite the bordello, noticing that a few more people were now walking the pavements, passing through on their way to business in other parts of town and to the marketplace nearby.

  “She will come out today. Soon!” stated Sumar.

  Xandor glanced quickly at his friend, surprised and a little envious at the absolute certainty in that statement, when all he could feel was an insistent pull towards the establishment which he found disorientating. He redoubled his efforts to focus, eager to experience a similar clarity of vision. Excitement bubbled as he watched the doorway of the building across the street, not entirely sure whether it had been caused by his percipient companion’s announcement or by his own awareness.

  Still watching for the door to open, Xandor was startled when Sumar reflexively grabbed his arm with sudden realisation, whispering loudly, “There are no less than four guards with her! I cannot confuse them all at once!” He had sensed the presence of double the expected number of minders around the girl.

  “I am sure that together we could overpower them. . .if we attacked. Even alone, I could defeat all four in physical combat. . .” Xandor could not resist a small smirk, proud at last of a skill he did possess, that of the sword and hand-to-hand fighting. He swore at the obvious flaw in that idea. “But we can not draw sword and cause a scene in public, too many people are leaving the market now, I can see them coming down the street! I am sorry I cannot help with mind-magic. We cannot just fly in or use our powers openly here. She might not have an air-cloak, nor want to come with us. Does she sense we are here? We have to make contact somehow – let her know who we are. We must think quickly!”

  At that moment, the door of the establishment opened and two large, burly men sporting full weaponry came out on to the street ahead of the expected group. Surrounded by minders, the girl was hardly visible and almost unapproachable on the now busy street. How could they effect their purpose with neither overt combat nor obvious magic?

  The Ancestors had thrown down the first challenge.

  CHAPTER 10

  Strange Encounter

  The growing company of Gaians laboured several furlongs on foot, following Churian deep into the rolling sands. The dunes which stretched inland from the coast formed the edge of the vast windswept Southern Desert. Among these arid bluffs in spring, giant ruw
aks chose to rid themselves of their thick, downy winter plumage, to become sleek and glossy for the hot summer to come.

  Paying this visit to the moulting grounds had been a real boon to the new clan of Gaians. With spring coming, the ruwak moult had already begun and there was an ample supply of suitable feathers. Churian, in his wisdom, had led them straight there and provided his guard for a full day while the women repaired the tattered cloaks.

  When the sun rose in its glory on the second day, after the group had shared a silent prayer to the Ancestors for protection, they were all a little sad but ready to part company for a while. Churian’s group was to make a short foray east, continuing the search for more Gaians. Salvo, as protector, would wait for seven days with Nerisse’s clan, camping in the shelter of a cave, high on the next headland.

  Churian made a quick visit to an armourer in Siva. Using eye drops and some of their money, he purchased a bow and arrows for one of the young men for added protection and to hunt for game. When Churian’s group returned, Salvo would take the new clan and any additional refugees north to Baram to begin a new life, before rejoining his companions in the quest.

  The plan was for them all to meet back on this coast in a few days. Churian planned to concentrate his group’s efforts in and around the eastern border towns on the trade routes between Siva and Lealand. They would not venture too far. Of course, spending time in busy human settlements was not the best choice; most Gaians chose to camp in more remote places, avoiding villages and towns for the most part. However, widely-travelled humans, such as traders and entertainers might be able to provide a few clues, one way or another. The quest required the use of every available tool, including conventional methods of inquiry. Even Churian’s well-honed perceptive powers had a limit.