Dragons Unremembered

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Dragons Unremembered Page 14

by David A Wimsett


  “It shall be done, Lord Reshna.”

  Reshna raised a hand. “Wait.” He studied the swirling smoke. “Have the palace searched again as well.”

  It was brightnail when Gilyon, Refran, Womb and Luja walked casually through the palace garden and stood at different sides of a thick bush. They remained standing away from at each other. Luja spoke in a whisper. “My spies report that Mirjel has not yet conceived. We still have time.”

  Refran said, “They watch her constantly. No one could reach her now.”

  Gilyon gave an humorless laugh. “They watch everyone.“

  Womb nodded his head. “We risk being here.”

  Luja said, “This must be our last meeting together, but I have a plan. Even the Barasha cannot track the movement of a terec. We will return to our own strongholds. The Barasha will not question this. Every day at the second span we will use terecs to send messages. I will go first in two weeks and send word to all of you. Each of you, in turn, will send a reply to all of us. We will wait for all the birds to come to us before replying again. It will be slow, but it will protect us.”

  “The Barasha will not let us go. They trust no one, “Said Womb.

  “They will,” said Luja, “If we supply our children as hostages.”

  Gilyon shook his head. “If we are found out, they will die in horrific torment.”

  Refran closed his eyes. “The fate of Carandir, a strong Carandir, is in our hands. Baroness Luja’s plan is the only way. We must all make sacrifices.”

  One by one, they left the garden.

  After weeks of eluding patrols, Jea and Amar reached the eastern shore of the swamps. Low, grass covered hills greeted them. The air felt fresh after weeks in the humid swamps. Jea stepped out of the little boat and looked around. “I know this place. I played here as a child. My grandparents’cottage is just over that hill.”

  Less than a tespan later they stood on the porch of a one story home. A flower garden grew in front. Jea knocked and an elder woman with bright white hair answered the door. The older woman squinted then broke into a wide smile. “Je. I didn’t know you were coming. Step inside. Who is this?”

  “Captain Amar of the Rascalla garrison, grammy.”

  A tall, thin man, also with white, walked in from another room. “Je. Is that really you little squiter? Oh my word, it’s been an age if it’s been a day. What brings you to Au?”

  Jea pursed her lips. “Oh grampy. We should all sit down.”

  When the story of the coronation and the Barasha attack was told, there was silence. Jea’s grandfather shook his head. “I never liked Craya. I only met him three time and I could tell he was cruel. And Mirjel. Oh, our baby.”

  Jea said, “I must raise the council in Au to fight back against the Barasha. It is a darkness that will consume the world. You were a counselor, Grampy. And Grammy, you both move in high circles. We must begin to form alliances. There are jewels sewn into my garments that can pay for bribes. I intend to ingratiate myself with society and make friends. Then, I can make a presentation to the council.”

  Amar said, “How can I help, Bareness.”

  “You have been a faithful friend to Rascalla and a dutiful officer to Carandir. But, a Carandir officer walking the street of Au will not be welcome.”

  “I can return through the swamps and try to raise my troops.”

  Jea thought for a moment. “I still need your support. You will play the part of my steward and aid. That will be expected.”

  Baron Dek watched an armed column of supply wagons move slowly down the road on its way to a western Barony. Twenty mercenaries on horseback, all men, moved ahead of the column in loose formation while another six rode behind. They were mostly Karakiens who carried an assortment of armor and weapons from many kingdoms. They had been thieves and highwaymen before being recruited by the Barasha. Their commander was a Carandir lieutenant who appeared to have little control over the company.

  Dek’s men waited behind embankments built the night before that were designed to appear as piles of rock and sod when viewed from the road. These barriers rose high enough to conceal shallow trenches where seventy mounted troops waited.

  The column reached the center point of the blind as Dek watched through a small slit. The mercenaries plodded along, taking no heed of their surroundings. Two mounted Karakiens rode back and forth in no particular pattern and seemingly without purpose. Only the Carandir officer in the lead wagon watched the road intently.

  Dek nodded to Colonel Herrik. She used a silver mirror to reflect a flash of sunlight up and down the trench. Her troops readied themselves. She flashed a second time. Archers sent a volley of arrows into the column. The Carandirians threw down the barriers and Herrik led them in a charge up earthen ramps.

  The Carandir officer in charge of the column blew a horn. Before the mercenaries could react Herrik and her forces were upon them. It was little more than butchery. The mercenaries, accustomed to waylaying poorly armed caravans or solitary travelers, were no match for a disciplined army. Dek dismounted his horse. Herrik called over to him, “Lord Regent.”

  The baron made his way to the back of a wagon. Herrik pulled back a tarpaulin to reveal small wooden chests. She opened one. There was a treasure of gems inside. Dek said, “Father of Dragons this would sustain our troops for a year. He opened another chest to find more gems.

  “Where do they come from, My Lord?”

  “I cannot say. Some great store of wealth for certain.”

  A muffled cry came from the front of the wagon. Dek drew his sword. and crawled slowly in. A heavy set person wearing large riding breaches and a jerkin lay face up on the bottom of the wagon. The figure’s hands and feet were bound by chains. A hood was drawn over the captive’s head. Dek held the tip of his sword at the figure’s neck and carefully removed the hood. His eyes widened. “Quib!”

  Baroness Quib, a gag over her mouth, mumbled and writhed. Dek undid the gag. “Dragons’ blood, Dek. How did you find me?”

  “By Chance. I never thought I’d say this, but I am very glad to see you.”

  “Well, get me out of this.”

  Dek turned to Herrik. “Colonel, see if that officer has keys on him. In the name of all the dragons, Quib. Where have you been?”

  “After the supposed coronation, I thought it best to travel, so I took my retainers and some gold to Karaken where I have sympathetic contacts.”

  Dek raised an eyebrow. “Fellow smugglers.”

  Quib shrugged, “Let’s just say accommodating acquaintances. But, after a while the gold began to run dry and my acquaintances became less accommodating, so I snuck across the border to my stronghold where I kept a few items I never quite got around to reporting to the Crown.”

  “A few?” Dek pointed to the chests. “This is almost a quarter of the Rascalla treasury. Where did you get all these gems?”

  “Various places. Their easy to transport and most convertible. But, that was my problem. They have to be converted and I could only do that in Au or Karakan. Unfortunately, the Barasha sealed the southern and eastern borders before I was ready to return, so I had to make myself look like a poor merchant and head west. I passed through two patrols. This one stopped me. The lieutenant wouldn’t take a bribe, so here I am.”

  Herrik returned with a set of keys and Dek released Quib. They stepped out onto the road. Quib rubbed her wrists. “Nasty brutes.” She kicked one of the dead bodies. “What have you been doing, Dek, that brings you to rescue me?”

  “Something more noble.”

  “I don’t doubt that.”

  “We have been raiding caravan’s like this and hunting the Barasha.”

  “With a force this size you could have a comfortable life in one of the southern kingdoms. I hear Hura is very nice. Pleasant sea breezes.”

  “I imagine you would now have us all take this wealth and do so.”

  Quib winced. “Something like that was my general plan. Of course, it’s a great burden carting
these chests around. Slows you down. That’s how I got caught. We could bury most of it here and come back later to get the rest.”

  Dek stared at him. Quib shrugged, “No, then?”

  “As regent, I claim this treasure in the name of Carandir, to feed the resistance and buy weapons.”

  “You have no right, Dek. I always knew you were an officious, self-righties old maggot, but these chests are mine. No matter what you may think about the way I acquired those gems, they belong to me. Besides, what are you fighting for. There is no a Carandir. Not anymore.”

  Dek grabbed Quib’s arm and pushed her against the wagon. “Never say such a thing again, Quib, baroness of Carandir. You have sworn an oath of fealty to the Crown and the heir. Desertion is treason. Look around you and see how traitors are dealt with.”

  She grimaced. “All right. You can have the jewels. But who is the heir? Not Craya, and Ryckair is dead.

  Dek stepped back from Quib. “Ryckair lives, and he is the heir.”

  “We all saw the body in state.”

  “That was an imposter. Mirjel saw the prince alive.”

  “What proof do you have that he still lives?”

  “None. I simply know.”

  “I see. Jorondel told you personally.”

  “Do not mock the dragons. I know beyond proof. I know from within myself. Ryckair lives, and we will be here when he returns.”

  Quib rubbed her arm. “Then let me have one of my chests and a horse. I will ride south and leave you to your dragons and your faith.”

  Dek slowly shook his head. “I will not have you captured by another raiding party to report where we are. No, Baroness Quib, you shall be our guest and enjoy all the comforts that we have to offer, hard ground, cold gruel and watered wine. I will entertain you with tales of the dragons every night to fill in the education you missed in your youth while cheating your friends at dice.”

  Quib tried to form a smile, but it fell into a frown.

  Yetig entered Reshna’s hall and bowed. “Wreckage from the Star Fire has been found, My Lord.”

  “Was anyone found alive?”

  “One.”

  “Bring this survivor to me.”

  Ryckair clasped his hands over Batu’s mouth as he shook him awake. “Quiet. The others are still asleep. Theb was summoned to the lagoon by the Sarte. Something important must be happening.”.

  Batu opened his eyes and sat up. His beard, once trimmed neatly, had grown long and unkempt. Ryckair also sported a beard that was a slightly lighter shade of blond than his hair.

  Their clothes, rags when they were placed on the ship, were now mere shreds of fabric. Ryckair’s tunic barely covered the dragon mark on his chest. It mattered little. They could work naked in the breezeless caverns of the Sarte where the temperature remained constantly warm.

  A deep comradeship had grown between Ryckair and Batu since their arrival. The former smuggler felt protective of the younger man, even though he had admitted to Ryckair that it was difficult to think of him as prince. Ryckair told Batu it was best and to treat him the same as any other miner to protect his identity from the Sarte.

  They shared stories of their lives. Batu told of how his great grandfather was a merchant who had come to Carandir from Taquan, another desert nation east of Karaken. Just after the eastern houses were established, the new baronies were looking for immigrants to settle their sparsely populated lands and many from Taquan answered the call. For a while, a truce existed between Carandir and Karakan and limited trade was permitted. Batu’s grandfather formed many contacts on both sides of the border. Karaken was rich in precious metals and gems, but the land was largely barren and many civilians had starved when the border had been closed before. They needed the food Carandir could supply. When Batu’s father took over, skirmishes resumed and the border was closed again. He could not stand the thought of people dying of hunger and determined to help those in need of nourishment by renewing some of the southern contacts and continuing trade covertly, but never in arms or secrets. Batu eventually inherited the business.

  The Sarte rarely spoke with the chief miner. When they did, it was only at the end of a work shift when they retrieved the ore that the men had dug.

  From the moment they arrived, Ryckair and Batu had explored the warren of caverns during rest periods, even though the physical labor left them exhausted. This mine was situated along a vein of copper ore. The Sarte loaded it into air-buoyed sleds at the lagoon and hauled it away with their water snakes.

  It was apparent there had to be air passages leading to the surface or they would have suffocated. Indeed, he and Batu had watched as smoke rose from charcoal cooking fires in the main cavern and vanished through holes in the wall near the ceiling. But, the walls were smooth and impossible to scale without rope and grappling hooks. They hoped to find more accessible vent holes.

  Ryckair guided them silently to one of the many tunnels leading from the sleeping quarters. The prince hoped the meeting between Theb and the Sarte would be brief. If they were late in returning, he and Batu risked missing their only meal before a weary day’s labor.

  Light filtered from a small fissure six feet up the surface of a wall. They paused long enough to jump, catch the tip of a ledge and pull themselves up in a single movement. Tunneling though the earth’s crust had built powerful muscles on both men.

  The roof of the crawl space dropped lower and lower as they inched forward. At the end, a crack allowed them to see and hear what was happening in the air pocket where the water of the Great River joined the cavern.

  Theb stood next to the lagoon as the Sarte emerged from the water. Sweat on his dark skin glistened in the light of the glow root. He knelt. “Masters.”

  The Sarte leader spoke in a guttural tone. “We seek a man among you with a mark.”

  “There are many men with many marks, exalted one.”

  “This mark is unique. It appears as a dragon raising itself in flight.”

  “I have not seen this mark, My Lord. The men rarely undress and never bathe. It may be hidden beneath filth. I will have them wash and look for such a mark.”

  “He is to be held for us, unharmed. Your life is forfeit if you fail.”

  Theb touched his head to the stone floor. “I am your servant.” The Sarte turned and walked back to the water.

  Ryckair rubbed his finger across the dragon mark on his chest.

  He and Batu inched back out and ran toward the sleeping area. Ryckair’s mind flashed images of every section of tunnel or cave that he and Batu had explored. There was no hiding place.

  They reached the sleeping quarters just as the other men were waking. Without getting close it was hard to tell one from the other and Theb did not ask names. They ambled into the larger cavern used for meals. Two cooks stood behind boiling kettles and dished out the morning meal.

  As was usual, everyone stood silently in line. Few friendships formed among the men.

  Ryckair moved slowly forward to receive his ration. The shorter cook ladled stew into Ryckair’s bowl and dropped a thick piece of bread into it. Three mushrooms bobbed to the top, a lucky treat.

  He and Batu sat in a corner away from the glow roots. Ryckair played idly with the mushrooms, pushing them down and letting them float back to the surface. His eyes wandered to the smoke from the charcoal. Like the mushrooms, it rose relentlessly up toward the ceiling. “This is maddening. There’s our escape. All we need is rope.”

  Batu said, “You might as well ask one of those sea snakes to crawl in here so we can climb up its back.”

  Ryckair stopped an stared at Batu. “Of course. What a fool I am.”

  He was cut off by Theb who climbed up on the platform that Ryckair had learned was called the talking stone. “We will work the left mine today. When we return, all men will meet at the pool where you will strip and bathe both your clothes and your bodies.”

  The company retrieved their pick axes from the sleeping area and walked off toward the mining tun
nels. Theb held a glow root in his hand as he led them through the twisting and intersecting passages. Four more of the lights were distributed throughout the group. Ryckair took one. He and Batu lagged back to the rear. Theb and the rest of the men rounded a corner. The prince covered the glow root and grabbed Batu by the arm. They stood silently in the darkness. The others took no notice of them.

  As they ran back to the living area, Ryckair said “Were you able to see anything when the snakes carried your bubble through the caverns?”

  “I sometimes saw walls as we passed.”

  “My bubble dropped to the bottom of the tunnel once, just before we came up in the lagoon, and I saw patches of vine like plants. It seemed unimportant at the time and I forgot about it until you mentioned the snakes.”

  Batu shook his head. “Even if you could use the vines like ropes, there’s no way to reach them that far underwater.”

  “I still have the piece of breathing membrane I saved from my bubble. If I hold it over my mouth I might be able to dive down and cut a vine free.”

  The two men made their way to the pool. Ryckair stripped off his tunic and walked bare chested down the stone ledge that sloped into the water.

  The current beneath him looked calm, but he knew from the ride with the sea snakes that it was strong and changed constantly. If he drifted past this area he might rise to find himself trapped at the roof of the underwater tunnel. Batu held the glow root over the lagoon to cast as much light as possible into the water. He waved to signal his confidence. Ryckair placed some stones in his pockets for ballast, clasped the membrane securely over his mouth and jumped in.

  He was surprised to find the shred of bubble actually allowed him to breath, though he needed to tighten his nostrils. He keep steady pressure through the membrane and control his impulse to gulp air. The light, which seemed so bright in the cavern, barely penetrated the water. His best hope was to use the feeble illumination as a return marker.

 

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