Shara stepped into the alley as she calculated the moon’s next cycle in her mind. From beneath her cloak, she took out one of the terecs Petstra had left with her father. Carefully, she poured the poison into a small metal container and attached it to the bird’s leg. She formed an image of Mirjel’s face in her mind as she had seen it in the vapor. With no idea of where Meth lay, Shara had to trust the bird to find the target poison’s victim. When the terec’s eyes changed color, she threw it into the air and watched it fly away.
Mirjel had to step over the drugged guards as she followed Yetig down the corridor of prison cells. The men had drunk from the same tainted water skin and now lay in a stupor.
Yetig held a glass vial in his hand. “Are you sure you want to be here?”
She said, “Is there has to be another way?”
“You know there isn’t. The potion is quick and painless. If Mistress Telasec is still conscious I will ask if she will take it willingly. You know what she will say.”
“Yes. Can’t we take her with us?”
“She will appear to have died naturally. Even the Barasha will think so. If she escapes, they will know there is a traitor within the palace.”
Though Mirjel understood his reasoning, she could not bring herself to agree.
Yetig opened the door to the Daro healer’s cell and stepped inside. He returned to the corridor. “She’s missing. Food has been piling up for weeks.” He opened the cell where Batu had been placed. “The smuggler is gone too.”
Mirjel felt a wave of relief. “The mistress has magic. She might have opened the cells and bewitched the guards.”
“Do you think Reshna will believe that? It is sheer luck the Barasha have not asked to see one of them. “
Mirjel put her hand up. “Wait.”
“What is it?”
She shook her head. “I’m not certain. I thought I heard someone calling my name.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Ryckair sat on the throne of the Dharam with a crown on his head. Batu stood next to him. A gong sounded and Masalta was escorted into the audience hall by Fadella guards. Behind him came his Ministers. The guards forced them each to kneel. Ryckair sat forward. “You come before us to answer for your crimes, Masalta.”
“I answer to no one. Whatever I did in Dharam or to the Fadella I did as king. You cannot bring the law to me in these matters. I was the law.”
“Enough! The treacherous attack against our royal person is enough to condemn you. Yet, this could be forgiven. It is the crime of willfully trading with the Barasha for which there is no pardon.”
“Who was to believe there were really sorcerers? I made a political alliance. Nothing more.”
“Nothing more?” Ryckair leaned forward. “For such a small price you would turn the world to darkness? Shara. What do you say to those who lie and plot the death of others for their own gain?”
She smiled at her father. “I call them traitors.”
“And what punishment do you call for?”
“Death. Nothing else can wash the sin away.”
“Harsh words. Are you so certain of this judgment?”
“Never more so.”
“Then hear now, Masalta, the decree of Ryckair, king of the Dharam and heir to the Western Realm. We will not defile our lands with the death of one so repugnant as you. Therefore, I banish you to the far northeast, beyond the confines of the civilized world. Thorns will be your bed and brambles your road. You will thirst and hunger. The sun will parch your skin. Never will you know rest. This you will suffer until your dying day, for if ever you place foot on these western lands, our sword will end your misery.”
Ryckair stood. “With you go your Ministers and your council. But, there are others to be judged this day.”
Two Fadella seized Shara and disarmed her. She struggled in their grasp. “What madness is this?”
Ryckair snapped his fingers. Two Fadella guards dragged Zamalatha forward.
The witch twisted and bit at their hands. “Let me go. I am a registered healer. I have done nothing wrong.”
Batu handed Ryckair a stack or parchments. He looked down at Zamalatha. “What do you know of these?”
“Nothing.”
Batu said, “I followed Shara to your house and entered when you left. I found these. Several copies of papers carried by Commander Petstra with varying changes.”
“I was asked to copy them. Nothing more.”
“Copy?”
“With alterations. It is a skill I learned. No harm was meant.”
“Who asked for the copies?”
“Someone I had never seen before. A tall man.”
Telasec stepped from around the back of the throne. Zamalatha’s eyes widened as her mouth dropped open. She sensed the power radiating from Telasec and knew instantly that she was a true healer of Ilidel.
Zamalatha fell to her knees and covered her eyes. “Mercy, great one. I help people as I can. That is all. I have no formal training. My mistress taught me what she could. I know nothing of wizards or dragons.”
Telasec said, “I see the lie in your eyes. I feel its weight in the air. Beg mercy from the king who now holds your life in his hands. I shall know the truth from your lips. Who commanded you to make these copies?”
“Princess Shara. I dared not disobey.”
Shara fell at Ryckair’s feet. “I had to. Don’t you see. You would have been taken by Petstra. I could not bear that. Now, you have greatness. You are the king. The note said this Mirjel was likely to die. What harm did I do in predicting the inevitable. There was no time.”
Ryckair turned his head to Zamalatha. “What did Shara want in her second visit?”
Zamalatha looked to Telasec. “She came for a target poison for a woman named Mirjel Avar.” The witch prostrated herself. “Mercy, great Lord. Princes Shara would have killed me if I had not given her the poison. She sent it by terec. I saw her though my window. Do not hang me.”
Ryckair stared at the wine in his chalice. “Zamalatha, witch of Kackar, for your sins against the dragons you are condemned to accompany Masalta into exile. Remove her.”
As the guards took her away she pleaded for mercy. Ryckair closed his eyes and threw the chalice across the room. “How could you?”
Shara shook her head slowly. “Do not do this. Do not let the words pass your lips. Keep them inside where they have no power; for once you release them you doom us both. I love you. I have never loved anyone before. If I lose you, the pain will kill me.”
Ryckair stood. “Shara, daughter of Masalta, for treachery I banish you to the northeast with your father, never to set foot upon the western lands again. So says Ryckair, King.”
Two Fadella guards grabbed Shara by the arms. She shook herself free, looked to Ryckair, then turned and strode from the room ahead of the guards.
That night, a terec landed on the window sill of Ryckair’s chambers. Instead of the usual telepathic message, a vapory image of Jarat formed before it. The wizard’s voice said, “You will need aid to travel across the Great River. Use this terec to send for support from Baron Dek.” A map appeared in the prince’s mid of a spot on the Great River near where its mouth emptied into the sea.
Ryckair picked up the bird and formed a message.
Batu led Masalta and his party to the eastern border. A flat plain stretched before them. Steady winds blew wisps of snow across their path. It was nearly sunset when Batu saw a shape on the horizon. As they approached, it grew until realized it was a statue of a dragon. A high stone wall ran north and south from it. Even at several leagues, it was plain to see that the statue towered nearly as high as the great spires of the palace at Meth.
Constructed of huge stone blocks, it was crafted on the likeness of a dragon rearing into the sky. It faced east, as though guarding the lands from attack. The statue’s wings were spread wide and caught the rays of the setting sun. All in the party were awe-struck, even Shara, who had carried herself with arrogance since their
journey began. The rock figure stood atop a pedestal, itself two stories tall.
An archway through the base led to the eastern lands. These consisted of jagged hills covered by brambles that now lay dead and dried. A narrow path extended through them and vanished behind a hill. No bird or beast were seen. The only sound came from the constant wind that blew coldly through thorny bushes.
The air around the statue was lighter and crisper than that of the plain. Batu felt an alertness that heartened him, as did the Fadella in his command. Masalta and all his household averted their eyes.
Batu and the Fadella stopped at the archway. Masalta and his party continued on. Shara was the last to cross. She turned to look back at Batu. There was a crooked smile on her face.
“We are done here,” said Batu. “Let us return to the land of the living.” He led the Fadella west toward a setting sun and tried to think of the feast that would greet them in Kackar. Yet, he could not stop wondering what it was that made a fallen princess smile in her moment of defeat.
Masalta rode back. “You got us into this, so come along and share in the spoils of your treachery.”
She continued to stare into the west. “I loved him. I would have been his queen.”
“Well, ‘would’ buys a sack of air without a string to tie it, girl. Your lover is consumed with your rival. By this time he has forgotten you completely.”
“perhaps. But, he will come to face me again.” She placed a hand on her belly. “I carry his child.” She turned her horse and rode down the path.
CHAPTER NINTEEN
A terec landed on the saddle of Baron Dek’s horse as he prepared to mount for a patrol. He was surprised and thought that it must from be Jea.
The bird allowed him to take it into his hands. He looked into its eyes. They changed from hazel to green. He heard Ryckair’s voice in his head and nearly dropped the bird. “Find ships. Bring them to the mouth of the Great River and sail north until you reach a ruined city on the coast. I will meet your there.”
Dek smiled broadly. Ryckair was alive. His men prepared to ride on a new raid. Quib sat on a fallen log eating venison stew with a sour look on her face.
Dek approached her. “How is the fair?”
“Not as bad as last night. At lease someone found some flavoring. If I had my cooking staff it would be edible.”
“That time may not be far off. Some of the clerks who escaped with us appraise your jewels. They could buy many ships and still leave a tidy sum.”
“I imagine. But I don’t know of any shipwrights in this wretched forest.”
“Of course not. They are in ports like Gelalan and Meth. We need ships, Quib. Many ships. You still have contacts in Gelalan who are interested in profit and ask no questions.”
“If you’re thinking that I could walk into that or any Carandirian port and buy a fleet of ships, think again. My contacts, as you say, would have no qualms in turning me over to the Barasha after the transaction to increase their profit.”
“Of course they would. That is why I will send some of our men, each with a part of the gems, to make discreet purchases of individual ships. They can say they are opening new trade with the east. There are sailors and officers among us who could appraise the worth of good vessels.”
“And where are you going with these ships?”
Dek smiled. “Let’s just say that you’re about to become a patriot.”
Quib grimaced as Dek laughed heartily.
Before she had been captured by the mercenaries, Baroness Quib intended to skirt the western border of Karaken and travel through the southern nations to the kingdom of Hura. It would have taken her as far away from the Barasha as possible. Although she had never been there herself, she had traded with its merchants for rare and exotic items.
It was called paradise by most. The weather was tropical. Rain showers were gentle. The people were friendly and welcoming. They had dark skin, curly hair that many shaved, men and women, and their eyes were a deep brown. They loved clothing that with bright colors, smiling and laughing. Yet, in a crises, they were serious and quick to act.
The capital city of Umdahlla was located on the sandy coast of the Western Ocean. Buildings spread along the shore next to a jungle. Wooden piers extended out into the sea where many ocean going sailing vessels were moored.
A wizard tower stood outside the perimeter of the city. Few took notice of it and even fewer knew its purpose. It had stood for time immemorial. At twilight, Jarat and Nissor emerged from the door in the tower. The garat wore the semblance of a young boy. Jarat knew this place, for it had been her land before she was summoned by Ilidel to become a wizard.
The festival of the sea had been going on all day. This celebrated the bounty from the ocean and all manner of seafood dishes were prepared. People played music on flutes and drums and bells. The Hurans made no alcohol, yet, the mood was merry with much laughter and dancing.
Jarat delighted in returning to the land of her youth. She wandered the street stalls while sampling many wares and joined a group of people singing a call and response working song that was old when she was a girl thousands of years before. Three musicians accompanied them. One played a hide drum, one kept rhythm with a dried gourd and the third played an instrument called a watalla that looked like a drum turned on its side with a pole sticking out the top and three strings running across the hide head that were attached from the top of the pole to the bottom of the drum. Peddles on the bottom allowed a musician to tighten and loosen the strings to change pitch while plucking them with fingers .
Haul in the net,
The fish are jumping;
Haul in the net,
Their silver scales shine;
Haul in the net,
The deck is filling;
Haul in the net,
Tonight we all dine.
Nissor hopped from foot to foot and cooed with approval at the music. After a while, they left the singers and walked to King Tolay’s palace. He had a grown son named Udalla but his wife had died many years before. It was the tradition for people to greet the monarch at festival time. Jarat and Nissor stood in a line with others to await an audience. When she came into the presence of the king she bowed. “Great festival day, Highness. Many long years of success to you and your house.”
Tolay nodded his head. “And what are your names?”
“I am Jarat and this is Nissor.”
The king looked down to Nissor who cocked his head. Tolay said, “You do me great honor little one. What favor I can offer?” It was tradition for the king give gold coins on the festival eve.
As he finished his words, the room faded around Tolay. He saw, in his mind, the Barasha, the demons who they called, the crown they sought in order to release Baras. He saw Ryckair’s quest and Dek’s fight against evil. Words came to him. “The true heir of Carandir needs the help of all free peoples. Seek Baron Dek. Send ships with armed troops and horses north and sail into the Great River to this spot.” A clear picture of the location formed in Tolay’s mind.
The room fell back into focus. Tolay shook his head as the remnants of Jarat’s vision filtered into his head.” I’m sorry. I seem to have wandered for a moment. Here are two gold coins for you and your child. Great festival to you.”
Jarat smiled. “And to you, Highness.”
Fadella troops were sent to the prisons, work camps and mines of Dharam to free those forced into bondage by Masalta. Thousands returned to the city, most of them too sick and starved to fight. Among these were the men Ryckair had led out of the Sarte mines. Less than half of them had survived the mercury vapors.
A great reunion was held with feasting and revelry. By royal proclamation, Ryckair appointed the eldest Fadella chief as governor of Kackar and assigned two thousand troops to his command to guard the eastern borders.
“And remember,” said Ryckair to the new governor, “One swallow of wine is sufficient to show your warrior soul.”
The elder chief laughed.<
br />
Dek watched as the fourth rowing ship his agents had purchased approached the shore. He had expected twenty.
The captain said, “My Baron, questions were raised as to where the jewels had come from and who the boats were for. The Barasha were everywhere. I fear this is the last ship we can openly purchase. We could sail to the ports of Au and try again.”
Quib shook her head. “They value their trading ships more than their children. They would not sell any vessel.”
Dek said, “Sadly, that is true. Can we make ships, captain?”
“We have shipwrights and timber, but it would take time.”
A sailor shouted, “Ship ahoy,” and pointed upstream.
The first thing Dek thought of was the Barasha. “Colonel Herrik, prepare for battle.”
Nineteen galleys approached. Herrik set her troops ready with pikes forward. The first vessel dropped anchor. Dek drew his sword. A launch was lowered. As it approached, he could clearly see Baroness Jea.
She reached shore and ran to Dek. They embraced tightly.
Jea said, “I so prayed to Jorondel for your safety.”
“And I to Jorondel for yours.”
They embraced again and Jea said, “May I introduce Exor, ambassador of Xinglan. His nation has sent these ships and nine thousand troops to fight the Barasha.”
Dek shook Exor’s hand. “Now, we have more than hope.”
Again came a call. ”Ship ahoy, to the north.”
Dragons Unremembered Page 26