by Brad Stucki
He could feel it.
“We have been away from the palace ten days now,” the princess continued, her eyes sparkling, her body erect with resolve, assuming a soft but commanding tone. “Surely my uncle has sent out search parties, but our goal is still the same: To find my prince, then go back and take my rightful place as queen.”
She paused briefly and Javin felt her eyes piercing deep as if trying to plumb his soul.
“Mulda’ fi,” she said, and the word slapped Javin a stinging blow across the face as if it had been physical. Siri’ Bhu’s eyes widened. The guards around the other fires craned their necks, turning with an almost inaudible gasp of surprise.
“Mulda’ fi,” the princess said again, “for that is what I believe you are. I humbly ask your aid. If the legends are true and you’ve been sent to our world, here is a good place to begin. Begin for my people; my city . . . And maybe other cities. I don’t doubt that Tranthra’ Joh has designs beyond Putra’ Fi Sorro. The prince is missing.”
To Javin the implication was plain.
Silence reigned in the camp. All eyes turned toward him. The fire popped, throwing a coal off into the dirt. Javin stared at it for a time, stunned. Then the feeling of rightness returned, the swelling in his breast, of not being able to stand aside while those whom he could help stood in need. He clenched his jaw as the feeling surged. Then he felt a warming in his breast, a heat where the crystal must invariably sit next to his heart. It was hot, encouraging.
“I will help you,” Javin started in a low, rumbling voice. “I will help you in whatever you need, for as long as you need it. That is my pledge to you. I don’t know how a single man, such as I, unarmed and unaware of his past and his very surroundings, can help, but that I will do with my very life!”
There was a power in his words that seemed to make the air crackle with energy. His breast burned within until he felt like he might be consumed.
Siri’ Bhu hugged the princess, tears unabashedly streaming down her face.
Javin didn’t know whether to be terrified at what he was saying and feeling or just let it flow through, for he truly did feel the depth of what he said, meaning every word.
Silence languished for a time. The feeling in the air sparked low to a burning ember setting in Javin’s heart, and by the look on everyone’s faces, theirs as well.
Finally, Javin took a deep breath, a wry smile crossing his face, echoing the strange humor he found himself having even in the most dire situations. “Not to put a damper on our little party here,” he said, his smile growing larger, “but since you’ve given me the title, Princess, maybe we should begin by having you teach me just what a Mulda’ fi is and what I’m supposed to do.”
There were muffled laughs around the fires and the guards turned back, murmurs of low conversations back and forth. The princess giggled softly and clasped her hands together with deep relief evident in her face.
“For tonight it is enough you have accepted. It’s late and I’m tired, as I’m sure everyone else is.” She glanced around the camp, winking at those who caught her eye. “Tomorrow Siri’ Bhu will undertake your instruction as we travel.” She looked at Siri’ Bhu who in turn smiled at Javin.
“You know, if I may say this even to a Mulda’ fi. For a pale, bare-skinned animal, you are strangely handsome -- in an exotic sort of way.”
Laughter erupted all through the camp. Javin smiled, enjoying their much-needed humor.
“Thanks . . . I think,” Javin panned, “and maybe tonight I won’t sleep so deeply and find myself at the point of a spear again.” Again, muffled chuckles sounded as everyone started dousing the flames and retiring to their bedrolls.
For a time Javin lay close to the still warm coals of the patted fire. Occasionally he heard the murmuring voices of one or another of the Vouloo as they spoke quietly before sleep took them.
So now I’m a Mulda’ fi, Javin thought. Somewhere deep in the back of his conscious mind Javin knew this was different, that he wasn’t as he’d been before he’d come here . . . wherever here was.
***
It felt good to Mahntra' Bhu to be back in the palace although it did seem a little strange not to be wearing his robes of office. Instead he padded along in soft sandaled feet, a loose tunic and drab breeches. He felt almost guilty but fought back the feeling.
He meandered down the ornate halls to the Keeper's Chambers. Servants recognizing him would stop, smile and bow. He nodded and then stopped to talk for a while, thinking to catch up on the gossip of the palace. All his old friends seemed pensive, as if they were afraid to speak. They would look over their shoulders as if afraid to be overheard, then seeing another servant they would bow again and excuse themselves to be on their way. It was odd.
The reminiscent feeling he started with moved to a troubled feeling, gathered from several of these terse conversations, even with the most notorious of gossips, the head chambermaid whom he'd just run into. She'd been the most nervous, only greeting him with a customary hug, then when she saw one of the palace guards coming down the hall had all but dashed off to finish her work.
Mahntra continued on his way, hoping his daughter could shed some light on what was going on. Ever since the queen had died and he'd resigned his position as Chief Keeper, he'd secluded himself at his residence in the city.
That was to give Siri a better chance to assume her new position as the Chief Keeper without him in the way, meddling every time she turned around. It was only right that Siri should take over as Chief Keeper since Mouhra' Lah was to be the new queen and Siri had been her constant companion since she was a little girl. It was as he'd always hoped.
But he hadn’t seen her for so long. It wasn’t like her. Then came the gossip heard on the streets. He’d come to the palace today to find out what was going on. He knew she must be busy. Maybe there was something he could do to help.
Mahntra knew he had to keep fighting the urge to jump back into the fray. It was Siri's place now. That was why he'd waited so long to come see her. Now he was glad he did. There was something wrong.
Turning the last corner, he came to the doorway of the chambers where he'd spent the majority of his long life keeping the records and archives for the city. He loved history and anything to do with it. Most of all he loved what history taught. For a fact, he knew that what he'd helped the queen learn from the histories had helped prevent at least two wars with the neighboring cities that he knew of. He’d also helped the queen avoid making policy mistakes that had been tried in the past and had proven ineffective.
It had been hard to let go, but it had been time. Besides, Siri' Bhu had the same love for the histories and prophecies he did. She would often sit at his knee when she was younger and beg to be told the stories, drinking everything in that he could ever tell and still plead for more. It had comforted him when her mother had died, that she'd grown to be such a wonderful and attentive daughter. It was only his love for Siri and his love for the records that had kept him going before the pain had receded. It was Siri's thirst for knowledge, even at such a young age that had given him the new spark of life he'd needed.
Pushing on the large wooden doors, he expected them to swing in like they'd always done, but they didn't move. They were locked.
That's odd. Siri must be in an audience then. He retraced his steps back down the hall to the ramp where he could make his way to the upper levels of the palace. His former position as Chief Keeper still allowed him the run of the palace.
Part way up the ramp he met the chamberlain coming down. He looked officious as always in his robes and staff. Mahntra smiled warmly. There had always been a bit of animosity between them. Not from him, but from the chamberlain. It seemed as if he were constantly jealous of the easy relationship he’d had with the queen and the standing orders she'd given that he be invited to any and all meetings she held. After all, part of his duty was to keep a record of all state meetings. The chamberlain had always felt it was his responsibility to eith
er permit or deny access to the queen. It gave him power, but he'd never known the man to abuse it. That's why he was so trusted.
As they came closer, Mahntra bowed his head in respect, thinking to pass on up the ramp. The chamberlain instead blocked his way.
"Where are you going, sir!"
Startled, Mahntra canted his head to one side, staring at the man. "What?"
"You cannot go to the chamber anymore without permission."
"I . . . see." Mahntra said. He didn't want to start an incident. He would smooth things out with the princess later, and she would instruct the man to continue his access. She had told him as much earlier. Perhaps she had not instructed the chamberlain.
"What do you want?" The chamberlain said, planting his long staff on the floor holding it out to his side like he would further bar the way.
"I am looking for my daughter -- the Chief Keeper -- have you seen her?"
"What business do you have with her?" the chamberlain prodded, now a slight satisfied smirk crossed his face. It was plain he was feeling his power for some reason. The man had changed subtly; grown in his officiousness.
"That is not a concern of yours." Mahntra said. His eyes narrowed, looking directly into the chamberlain's. Still, he held his anger in check. "A father can see his daughter without your permission. It does not concern state business."
"I see," the chamberlain said, hesitating. "I'm afraid she's not here."
"Not in the palace? When will she be back? Is she out in the city then?"
Plainly the chamberlain was at a loss for words. This was not like him under any circumstances.
"She is with the princess," the chamberlain said finally. "They are away from the city . . . on important matters of state."
"And the Conservator is with them, surely!"
Mahntra was shocked. During a time of succession, it was highly irregular for the princess to be away from the city.
"The Conservator is here. He was instructed by the princess to remain, to guard her city from the coming Time of Trouble."
"What?" Mahntra could not believe what he was hearing. "The Princess and the Keeper are away from the city, and a Time of Trouble has been pronounced. I must see Tranthra' Joh. This is not right!"
"The Conservator assures me the Princess is safe, and that she is conducting very important matters for the city. It is to be kept quiet or it could endanger the Princess and her mission."
"We'll see about that." Mahntra made to pass by the chamberlain. Again, he stepped in front, blocking his way.
"I'm afraid that is not possible. Tranthra' Joh left strict instructions he was not to be disturbed. I will convey your request for a meeting and inform you when he will see you."
Mahntra hesitated, wondering whether he should push past or wait. This was not right. He should be able to meet with the Conservator any time he felt it was needed! Then he caught himself and remembered he was no longer the Chief Keeper. Maybe it would be better to bide his time after all.
Stepping back, he bowed to the chamberlain. "Forgive me. Please convey my request to the Conservator. I will await his summons."
Visibly relieved, the chamberlain bowed back.
Mahntra turned and strode back down the ramp. There's more than one way to get information, he thought. And I intend to get it!
Chapter 6
Javin’s eyes popped open. It was still dark, the mists of moisture drifting high, yet closer than at full dark. He didn’t know why he had awakened and sent his senses out, listening, feeling.
Someone was near – someone who didn’t belong. Slowly he lifted his head, turning it each way. Even in the darkness he could make out the huddled forms of sleeping Vouloo. Turning another way, he checked the position of the sentries. They were in place, not alarmed at anything. Still something was amiss.
Then it happened! A shrill cry broke the silence. From all directions he could hear the sound of pounding feet. Javin was on his feet in an instant, at the same time cursing himself for not asking for a weapon the night before. A blurred silhouette of a being loomed before him in the darkness. Its arm was raised, a long dagger in its hand. It hesitated at the sight of Javin. Javin took the instant's hesitation and drove his fist heavily into the being’s throat, at the same time grabbing the upraised knife and twisting the arm backwards with all the strength he could muster. He heard a snap along with a yowl of pain, as the being fell.
It was Javin’s turn to be surprised. The being, whatever it was, was cold to the touch and smooth. Javin instantly realized, even in the darkness, this was of the same species that had saved him from the hungry mottled reptile.
Chameleon men! That’s why he hadn’t been able to see them clearly in the dark. Their unusual color-changing ability made them blend so deeply, no features could be identified.
Screams of pain, grunts and curses filled the air. Javin firmly grasped the blade, ignoring the downed intruder.
Springing towards where he knew the princess had been sleeping, he stumbled full upon the backs of four intruders pressing a ring of guards, fighting valiantly but losing step by step.
More by feel than anything else, he buried his dagger into one back, pulling it out quickly and slashing at the neck of another. Reaching forward, he felt and grasped another arm, swinging the assailant around and turning the dagger’s end, drove the pommel into the attacker’s face, leaving him to slump to the ground.
Javin was amazed at his fine-tuned senses. Instinctively he knew where everyone was close to him on the field of battle without having to see them. Have I always been able to do this? He wondered. Adrenalin coursed, making his mind and muscles flash and dart like a striking serpent. It was clear the other guards didn’t have his ability for they were flailing about with their weapons hoping to strike, though not too successfully. They were falling fast.
Javin felt a blow from the behind. Dazed, he struggled to keep his senses, swirling with his knife, opening up another attacker across the chest then followed through with a clenched fist to the face.
Sensing another to his left, he pivoted, ducking just as a blade sliced the air where his head had been. He dove forward in a roll, coming up, blade thrusting into the stomach of his assailant while at the same time grabbing the attacker's long blade and wrenching it free, swinging it behind, and catching still another intruder coming up on him.
He turned back, now swinging the longer blade and using the shorter he'd wrenched free to deflect, cutting a swath to the princess’ aid.
He noted with satisfaction the enemy ranks were thinning, but almost all the Vouloo had fallen. Now only four, including Siri’ Bhu, stood defending the princess.
The few remaining attackers focused in on the princess. Javin was left free. He was about to jump back into the fray when a bark of orders sounded from the jungle.
Another mass of the dark forms darted in, cutting him off. Together they rushed Javin from all sides. One impaled himself on Javin's long blade. Another took his short knife in the throat. It slowed him just enough. Smooth, cold hands grasped him, fists pummeling.
Javin was in a haze, faintly wondering why he felt no pain. He knew his body was receiving a horrible beating. The swarming blows continued until the weight of the huddled bodies pinned him to the ground. He thrashed his arms and legs. His senses swam in murky darkness.
I need to get to the princess!
A square blow landed on the side of his head and everything went dark.
***
Javin heard faint voices, as if coming from a great distance. They didn’t make sense. He couldn’t understand them, yet he knew they referred to him.
Gradually the sounds grew louder and the voices more articulate. He was struggling to come back from the depths of unconsciousness.
With great effort one eye fluttered open; the other was swollen shut. Pain flashed through his right shoulder as he tried to move, experimenting.
Javin bit back a groan. His legs felt weak and sore, his chest hurt even with sh
allow breaths. His left arm was numb, but he could feel his fingers move as he slowly curled them up into a fist. Then a heavy foot stepped on his wrist, pinning his left arm and bringing a new wave of pain.
“Ah, I see you have risen from the dead. Good.” The voice continued. “Now I can find out what sort of creature you are before I have you killed.”
Javin blearily looked up into the cruel face and dark features of a lion-man. He, at least, was of the same race as the princess. His dark, rumbling voice identified him as a male as well as the thick tufts of hair flowing from his head in a dark mane.
“Pull him up so I can have a better look,” the man ordered.
Javin felt the cold touch of two chameleon men pulling him roughly to his feet. His knees buckled, and they grasped his arms harder, keeping him upright. Javin nearly blacked out again and struggled to stay erect, facing his enemy.
“Why did you attack?” Javin spat.
The man doubled up his fist, driving it into Javin’s mid-section. Then while Javin was bent over, he swung another cuff at the side of his head. Javin was held on his feet by the chameleon men.
“You will speak when I ask you to speak and not before,” the gruff voice commanded. “Now hold him up so I can see.”
Javin realized as he was painfully stretched upright that he had lain unconscious for some time. The morning light was high overhead. The mist had strained out with the heat and it still obscured the sky along with the canopy of jungle foliage. Several hours had passed since the attack.
With his good eye Javin scanned the camp. Bodies of the Vouloo were piled to one side. Chameleon men were still going through their belongings, confiscating anything that seemed of interest. Then relief washed over Javin as he saw the princess under guard, seated on a rock. Siri’ Bhu sat on the ground next to her. Only those two were alive.