Cringle had an inscrutable look on his face as he replied.
“We are important people Arwhon. In this country people of importance do not respond to orders from lessers. They will respect us more if we take our time.”
The Captain stepped forward and drew his sword. Arwhon smiled, Cringle knew best, he was Servant after all and had helped rescue him from the Q’Herindam. He gestured and the Captains eyes widened as he threw down his sword, the handle becoming unbearably hot. Arwhon picked it up and handed the weapon back, the now cool handle first. The Captain carefully took it from him and stepped back, calling for the innkeeper to hurry along with breakfast. In half an hour they were mounted and on their way, with an escort of armoured soldiers.
The palace gates were set in high walls of stone. They opened onto a tunnel through which the group entered and came out into a large, paved open space. It had the appearance of a parade ground. At the far side was another high wall with a gate set in it. When they passed through this gate they had to dismount and leave Duran, Rancid and Vixen there, as no stock was permitted to proceed further toward the palace than this. They were assured their horses would be stabled and cared for and their saddlebags taken to their rooms. Before continuing on foot, Cringle took the wrapped fan from his saddlebag. There was some consternation regarding Krissi entering with them but Arwhon placed his arm over her shoulders and left them no choice.
Krissi came too.
They were taken through three more gates set in three separate walls, each leading to a smaller area than the one before. Guards patrolled the walls above. It would be extremely difficult for any decent sized group of people to come through unscathed if they were attacking. Cringle wondered what Kenjida was afraid of. Across the third space was a long flight of stairs leading up to the King’s residence with its huge audience chamber. Five hundred people could have fitted in there but at the moment it was empty apart from a throne at the far end surrounded by sumptuously attired armed guards and retainers. There were also guards with crossbows scattered amongst them. Arwhon placed protective wards around the three of them and included Krissi.
Sitting on the throne was a man of medium build with a fine white beard. He was dressed in sumptuous clothes with threads of gold woven throughout and on his hands he wore many rings of gold and jewels. Those hands also sported extremely long fingernails. The three of them were stopped at least ten paces away from the man. This must be Kenjida.
Kenjida said something in low tones to the man standing beside him who then spoke to them in perfectly accented Common.
“Why do you come here?”
Arwhon spoke for them.
“As you can see, my Servant comes from Cheshwon. He does not know his parents. I promised him when we finished out business in Belvedere, we would help him find his kin.”
This was translated for the King who nodded sagely before asking another question through his interpreter.
“How is it a gryffon accompanies you? I thought them to be creatures of legend.”
“On our way to liberating Tarkent from the Dominion, I found Krissi in the high country as a young fledgling. She had a broken wing. We bandaged it and in the process she bonded with me.”
As this was translated, eyebrows rose and surprise was evident.
“Are you the one we heard of who finished the Dominion?”
“I am Sir, along with my companions here. I could not have done it alone.”
There was much rapid conversation going on now and Cringle moved closer to them and interpreted in whispers.
“They are discussing the fact that the stories about the war talk of much bravery and magic. There is concern we might be too powerful for their own Mages.”
As soon as the words were out of Cringle’s mouth, Arwhon re-evaluated the retainers around the King, looking for any sign of magic. He found it and realised that he stood before at least four competent Mages. Cringle was still whispering.
“There is something afoot here they’re trying to keep from us. We’ll have to be cautious.”
Eventually the King’s translator questioned them again.
“The most honourable Kenjida asks for your names.”
Arwhon bowed.
“I am Arwhon; this is my betrothed Shiri and my Servant Cringle.”
The interpreter faced Cringle.
“Sir, is there anything you can tell us that will assist us in locating your mother.”
Arwhon motioned to Cringle, who understood and took out the fan to unwrap it. Out of its coverings, he flipped the fan open and displayed it. There was a collective gasp from every person in the room and the King appeared stricken before firing a rapid string of words at his interpreter. The man turned to them.
“How did you come by this artefact? It’s been missing for twenty years.”
Cringle replied clearly in the language of Cheshwon.
“It belonged to my Mother. She left it for me when she returned to Cheshwon from Crossroads.”
Immediately half the people who were there fell to their knees, foreheads to the ground while the remainder bowed their heads. The King barked out a command and suddenly there was magic but not any sort of magic they were used to, very different but still powerful. Arwhon felt his muscles weaken and he sagged where he stood, feeling sleepy. He looked toward Shiri and Cringle who appeared to be similarly affected. With a huge effort, Arwhon summoned fire and ringed them with hot flames in an effort to block the magic. It didn’t but Kenjida’s Mages, who were casting those spells were so shocked by the instant appearance of the flames they stopped their castings. Immediately Arwhon, Shiri and Cringle felt better.
“Cringle, bind them in ropes of air and I will bind the King and his mages in ropes of cold fire. Don’t worry about the crossbows.”
As he spoke, each crossbow turned instantly to ash and a split second after that all the Mages and the King lay bound in flaming bonds. The three travellers now took the time to look about them. All was quiet and every person in the room was now their prisoner.
So, the King wanted them dead but his people obviously revered the fan and whoever bore it.
12. Cringle’s True Heritage
Bonds of cold fire. Flickering and terrifying to behold. It seemed like they should be burning flesh and causing great pain but they didn’t, although if they became hot there would be all of that and more.
Kenjida and his interpreter and the others lying bound with flame had that same look of terror on their faces which came from gazing at certain death. Arwhon gestured and the flames left only the King and his interpreter.
“I didn’t come here to cause trouble. None of us did. You have treated us badly. If anyone tries to use any form of magic against us, there will be instant reprisals. Most likely involving immediate death. We want to know the whole story. What it is about the fan which causes such extreme reactions in people and how that relates to my Servant.”
Arwhon paused while the interpreter conveyed his message to the King and those about him, bound invisibly with air, stood silently while he received a reply from his ruler.
“The story will take time to tell. Maybe you could release the court and we could have refreshments sent in.”
It was a while since breakfast and it wouldn’t do any harm to have a bite to eat and sit in comfort. Arwhon gestured and the fire bonds disappeared. He looked directly at the King.
“I must warn you that magic does not work on the gryffon. If anything happens to us, she’s instructed to kill.”
The King warily moved to regain his throne and at a muttered command, servants shot off. Some returned immediately from hidden places behind hangings carrying low tables and large cushions which were arranged on the floor, the largest gold coloured cushion being placed nearest to the King. The three of them stood, waiting as retainers came with platters of food and then shortly after with pots of aromatic tea and small, delicate cups. They arranged places and the guests were invited to sit opposite the King and his
interpreter. Everyone else remained standing, quietly attentive.
The conversation progressed through the interpreter. Although Cringle could now understand what was being said, Arwhon did not yet have as good a command of the language and Shiri very little at all. The opening words from the King, addressed to Cringle, stunned them.
“You, are my nephew.”
He paused to let the impact of his words sink in before continuing.
“My brother, Tarsega, your father Cringle, was the ruler of all Cheshwon twenty years ago. He had a concubine he favoured, a slave from lands far to the south, sold at Sheskan by the Reavers. He dressed her as a Cheshwon woman and she wore eye makeup to give the appearance of eyes like ours. You may notice the women of court all wear white face paint so her origins were not hard to disguise. To us she was obviously foreign but to others she could have passed as one of us. Tarsega thought to open the ancient Trade route through the north of Tarkent and thought it wise to send your mother, Yletta, as she could speak fluent Common. Yletta would also be able to make binding agreements and sign for the King. No one knew she was pregnant when she left and I wouldn’t have believed you her son without the fan.”
The King and interpreter paused and took some food. Servants poured the tea but before Arwhon or Shiri could take some refreshment, Cringle reached out and carefully tasted small amounts of all the food available to them.
“Can’t be too careful. I learned far more from Merdon than anyone could think possible. The taste of a large number of poisons and potions being some of those things. Even tasteless poisons can be detectable if you wait for a few minutes.”
The King and retainers looked on at this display of caution, aware it was not just for show. Eventually at a sign from Cringle, they started to eat. It was not long before the King began again.
“The fan is one of the main items of regalia for the true King. Tarsega gave it to Yletta to protect her throughout her travels in Cheshwon. It is a sign she was on the King’s business. Besides that, in the right hands it’s also a deadly weapon and she had been trained in its use. The journey from here to the far side of Tarkent and beyond takes many months. By the time she arrived at her destination you would be close to being born. Cringle, tell me what you know about Yletta and the events surrounding your birth.”
Cringle sat back from where he’d been leaning forward, intently absorbing the information Kenjida was relaying to him about his mother and drew breath before he then took up the narrative to relate the part of the story he knew.
“The delegation arrived in Crossroads about two months before my birth. They’d travelled during spring and summer over a little travelled ancient road. It was shortly after the second Dominion War and there were brigands to contend with. They lost two of their guards during that journey. My mother was unwilling to travel back to Cheshwon until after I was born. She didn’t want to risk losing me to the rigours of travelling. There were consultations between the delegation and the Council of Ten in Crossroads and some preliminary deals made. I only know of this because Holly Barton, who cared for me until I was about five years old, told me of it. My mother had decided to leave me in Holly’s care rather than risk something happening to me on the journey back, especially as it would be winter and the conditions harsh. It was her intention to return for me within the year but she never came back.”
Kenjida was nodding his head as he heard the story through his interpreter and replied instantly Cringle’s part of the tale had finished.
“I can tell you the rest. You weren’t abandoned. There is a powerful warlord in Northern Cheshwon, named Furoshiko, who wanted to rule half the country. He took your mother prisoner when she returned through the northern part of Cheshwon. She no longer had the fan but he knew who she was. He demanded Tarsega give him the title of King of the North for her return. Your father was furious and rode out with a small army to get her back. Unfortunately he underestimated Furoshiko and he was ambushed and killed. As his brother, I came to the throne as King. But only of the south of Cheshwon.”
“What of my mother?” Cringle asked hopefully.
“She still lives. It amused Furoshiko to keep her as a personal servant. If we invade the north, she dies. We can’t invade and reclaim the north anyway as we don’t have the resources to do so and Furoshiko can’t invade the South. He doesn’t want to, as far as we know. So you see. It is a stalemate and the country is divided into two.”
Cringle had a handle on the situation now.
“And you thought I had come to claim the throne. That’s why you tried to wipe us out.”
The King moved his eyes from Cringle’s intense stare and looked down, ashamed.
“The country has been stable for a long time. I thought a takeover would disrupt it again. My apologies. To you all.”
“I’m glad that’s cleared up,” Arwhon said. “Personally I get a little tired of people trying to kill me. What do you want to do now Cringle?”
“I still want to find my mother Arwhon but you and Shiri don’t have to come with me, I’m a powerful Mage in my own right and used to danger. I can go alone.”
Arwhon had a huge grin on his face.
“Yes, I tried that and look where it got me. What say you Shiri? Shall we assist Cringle in finding his mother?”
“Of course Arwhon. Our lives are fairly intertwined. I’m sure Fate and Destiny have a hand in all this. You met them, you should know.”
Arwhon shook his head.
“As far as Fate and Destiny go, they’re a law unto themselves. We’re just the pieces they play with. Still, I suppose I supply them with more distractions than others.”
He turned to Cringle and placed a hand on his Servant’s shoulder.
“You are more than Servant, Cringle. As you say, you are a Mage in your own right and I would also deem you friend. We’re coming with you when you journey in search of your Mother. The three of us should be able to cope with whatever is thrown against us.”
Cringle’s smile spoke volumes and he turned back to face Kenjida, speaking to him fluently in the language of Cheshwon.
“Uncle. I have no interest in the Throne. You seem to have made an excellent job of ruling and should continue to do so. It is my intention to free my mother from Furoshiko. What I would like is as much information as possible regarding Furoshiko and any likely traps we may encounter, as well as detailed maps of the country we will be entering.”
Kenjida nodded in agreement.
“It will be so. Can you and your friends stay in the palace while you are preparing? I would like to get to know you better my nephew.”
Cringle turned to the others and there was a brief discussion before he turned back to the King.
“The answer is yes, as long as we can come and go without restriction and our horses are properly cared for.”
The King beamed and threw out commands left, right and centre. Courtiers and servants immediately rushed off in different directions, obviously bent on many errands. The King addressed them through his interpreter.
“You will stay in the Royal Wing of the palace. After all, you are royalty. Your friends will stay there with you. Your horses will be cared for in the royal stable and you can come and go as you please. The only proviso I have is that some of the Royal Bodyguard accompany you or your friends outside the palace. There are always assassins lurking in the shadows and a poisoned dart can be fatal.”
The three of them looked at each other. Reading the answer on their faces, Cringle turned to the King.
“Agreed. Can we retire to our quarters for now, please?”
The King clapped his hands and servants appeared with their saddlebags and bedrolls, waiting to lead the way to their accommodation. The trio, plus Krissi, followed them out of the Great Hall and down long passageways until they were shown into sumptuous living quarters. The servants departed and Krissi curled up on a woven rug while the three travellers inspected the suite of rooms. Behind a sliding door there was a huge ma
rble bath set into the floor of one room with a separate tiled area set aside for washing. Arwhon and Shiri were familiar with the arrangement, which was similar to that used in Tarkent. Before climbing into the hot bath for relaxation, the actual washing took place separately so the bathwater remained clean. They noticed another smaller door at the rear of the bathroom and opened it to find a passageway where a servant waited for any summons. The young woman fell to her knees and placed her forehead on the floor in supplication. Coming from the lands in the west, Arwhon, Shiri and Cringle were a little uncomfortable with this display of servility but it appeared to be the norm here in Cheshwon.
They closed the door on the young servant and explored further, finding their possessions piled outside separate bedrooms. Cringle took one and Arwhon and Shiri another. There were actual beds in these rooms not the sleeping mats which were the norm elsewhere and luxury was everywhere, hangings made with gold and silver thread woven through them, well padded lazing couches and fine diaphanous curtains over the window openings. They walked out onto the balcony of the main room and found they were above the level of the walls. Arwhon counted five in all before the city crowded the outer wall.
He turned to Shiri and Cringle.
“We need to learn as much as possible about the common people as well as those who actually run the country. The common people of Tarkent united to overthrow the Dominion so we should get a feel for the common man here. Just in case a change of leadership is necessary.”
Cringle pointed to himself.
“That’ll be my job Arwhon. Now that I seem to be able to speak the language I can go out into the city and skulk about, find out what the man in the street thinks of the leadership in Mandoran and Southern Cheshwon. I’ll stay in a tavern or such while I’m at it. Guess I’ll have to lose my bodyguard. Cover for me.”
Cringle turned and slipped away, heading for the servant’s door at the back of the bathroom. One minute he was there, the next gone. Arwhon shrugged then took Shiri in his arms.
“Well Shiri, it looks like just you and me. Fancy a bath?”
Were of the Drakon Page 17