Morning in Karaya Village was remarkably quiet, so much so that Chris overslept.
Exhaustion from the travel of the past few days combined with the anxiety
of the mission had taken its toll on her, and finally her body collected
on the debt. Perhaps it was the bucolic stillness of the place, or the cozy,
earthy scent of the bearskin, or even Borus’s gentle snoring, but something
finally put her at ease enough that she found a deep, welcome, sleep.
When she finally awoke, her stomach was growling, her companion was gone,
and the sun was quite high in the sky. Afraid that she had upset her host,
she dashed out of the small chamber without even bothering to tie up her
hair.
“Good morning,” Lucia said as Chris appeared in the living space
of the hut. “Or should I say good afternoon?”
“My sincerest apologies. I didn’t mean to—“
The Karayan cut her off with a wave of her hand and a good-natured grin.
“You were exhausted. I know by your traditions it would be considered
an insult, but here enjoying another’s hospitality to the fullest is
the greatest of compliments. Now, let’s have some lunch. Have a seat
near the fire.”
With a nod, Chris walked to the center of the house and sat down on the floor,
tucking her legs under the low table. It had some intricate carving on it,
symbols she didn’t recognize, but guessed to be words in the Karayan
language. On the table were two thatched mats that were to be used as plates
and a small vase holding a single white flower.
Lucia disappeared into another small chamber and returned with two baskets
that she placed on the table before taking a seat on the floor opposite her
guest. Waving her hand over the food, she said to Chris, “I hope this
is to your liking.”
“Of course,” Chris replied as she glanced down at the baskets of
cooked meat and fresh fruit. “I truly appreciate your generosity. I
just wish Borus had remained to enjoy it as well.”
“He was up before the sun and seemed restless,” Lucia said as she
took a piece of the meat and began to break it into pieces with her fingers.
“I suggested that he join the men on our daily hunt.”
Chris nodded as she helped herself to some fruit, thankful to learn that
Borus hadn’t run off or caused trouble. “He doesn’t like feeling
useless. It will be good for him.”
Lucia’s eyes narrowed as they followed Chris’s hand. “Your
rune is gone.”
“I had it sealed,” she said simply.
“You did not want to be immortal?”
Looking her host in the eye, she replied: “I would rather live a normal
life with my family than be condemned to watch them perish. They are more
important to me than a hero’s title or eternal life.”
Lucia gave a warm maternal smile. “I understand and respect your
decision.”
“Thank you.”
The women ate in silence for a few moments until Lucia asked, “So why
have you come all this way?”
Chris tried some of the meat, tearing it into small bits with her fingers
just as her host had done. “As I said last night, I have come for your
counsel.”
“On what matter?”
The Zexen was pleasantly surprised at the smoky, sweet taste of the meat
that she guessed to be rabbit. Breaking off another bite, she said, “Lilly
Pendragon.”
Lucia’s tone grew harsh. “She is none of my concern, or the concern
of my clan. My son has worked hard to keep us out of this war, and I intend
to uphold his wishes.”
Chris sighed as she gave a slight shake of her head. “I am not asking
for you to dishonor your son or his wishes. I am only seeking Lilly on a
personal matter—not one of my country. I am not even traveling in any
official capacity, and Borus is not under my command. He’s only here
as a friend and escort.”
The Karayan seemed a bit suspicious as she ate the last of the fruit. “Last
I heard, you were living off in the wilderness and had married one of your
knights. I had assumed he was the one since it would make an easy cover—a
couple traveling together.”
The younger woman grew defensive. “No, we’re not under any sort
of guise, and he’s not my husband. I married Percival. He was also with
us during the war.” At the other’s confusion, she added: “He
was taller, and had dark hair.”
“Was?” The Kayaran asked gently.
“He was missing at the last report. I am desperately trying to find
Lilly in the hopes that she would know more.”
“Or to ransom her,” Lucia said with a raised eyebrow. “One
President’s daughter for a knight? It sounds like a one-sided trade
to me.”
“No,” Chris said firmly. “Besides, Salome doesn’t think
we’re even fighting Tinto anymore.”
The older woman was even more skeptical. “How would Lilly know more
if you just said you weren’t fighting Tinto?”
“I’d hope she’d at least know who we are fighting so that
I could arrange for the release of my husband.”
Lucia finished her fruit, and set the pit back in the basket. “What
if they are mercenaries that she hired? What would you do then?”
“I don’t have an answer for that, but I would hope that Lilly would
instruct them to show the same respect for their enemy that Tinto and other
respectable nations do.”
The Karayan seemed strangely intrigued. “Tell me what you do know about
the people you are fighting, then.”
Chris took a deep breath and relayed all of the information she had from
Borus and Salome—the strange enemies, the lack of normal battles, and
the fact that the Zexen Council insisted upon having everyone believe they
were at war with Tinto. Finally, as she finished the tale of her travels
from the past week, she paused and then said, “There is one other thing,
too.”
“What?”
“Borus told me when he found the weapons of Percival’s unit that
they were arranged in a bulls-eye formation.”
Lucia’s eyes grew cold, and her words were full smeared with surprise
and hatred. “Are you sure about this?”
“Yes,” Chris nearly stuttered, caught off guard at the other
woman’s abrupt change of tone.
“Then I know who you are dealing with, Chris. I will also promise do
everything in my power to help you find them.”
Chris looked at Lucia in confusion. “I thought you wanted nothing to
do with this?”
“Not any more,” Lucia said, her pretty face contorting into a mask
of loathing. “These people--they are called the Locusti and
“mercenary” is too good of a term for them. They are more like
pirates. They fight only for money, and their allegiance is sold to the highest
bidder.”
“You know them?”
“I know of them, and I have some unfinished business with them,”
the Karayan said as her nostrils flared with rage.
Shocked at the sudden change of demeanor of the other, Chris hesitantly asked,
“Did Lilly hire them?”
“No respectable human being would use their services!” After taking
a breath to collect herself, Lucia answered the question in a much more civil
manner. “I will tell you where she is because now more of her story
makes sense. A few years ago, she was forced into exile. She lived with us
for a while, but when a few merchants from your country spotted her here
a month or so ago, she fled to Caleria.”
“Exile?” Chris asked, not even trying to hide the astonishment
in her voice.
“There was an uprising in her country against her father.”
“I didn’t know that,” the former knight said quietly. “I
hope he is well.”
“When Lilly lived among us, she spoke very little of her home. I believe
she was doing so out of respect for my son’s beliefs.” The older
woman took a long breath as she paused in thought. “But now that I know
the Locusti are involved, I fear that Gustav is dead.”
“May I ask how you know these people?”
Lucia didn’t answer. Reaching under the low table, she produced a long
piece of wood with intricate carvings running down it. She inspected on end
of it, and then tilted it and held it into the fire. A second later, it caught,
and the former chief put her lips to the opposite end, drawing in a long
breath. After exhaling the smoke, she passed the pipe to Chris and posed
her own question. “Do you have any children?”
The Zexen accepted the pipe, knowing that refusing it would be an insult.
Before drawing off it, she answered, “I have two sons. But
what—“
“Just answer my questions and I’ll explain while we smoke,”
Lucia said with smile. “Your sons, they will become knights?”
The smoke slowly escaped Chris’s lips as she forced herself not to choke
as it nearly came back up her throat. “My elder son, Ryan, probably
will, but Geoffrey took ill as a baby.”
“They will surprise you.”
Chris gave a look of complete confusion as she passed the pipe back to Lucia.
“I’m sorry, I’m not following you.”
Lucia seemed to ignore her, and drew off the pipe before speaking, her voice
somberly reminiscent. “Hugo did the same to me, you know. He used to
be careless and would rather run off than practice his fighting skills. I
never thought he’d take anything seriously, but he did. He made me proud
to be his mother. I just wish his father could have seen him grow up.”
After a pause she met Chris’s eyes, “Years ago I told you that
we were very much alike—two strong women who had learn to show weakness
as well as strength in order to have children of our own. You remember that
discussion, don’t you?”
Still puzzled, Chris reluctantly took another breath off the pipe as her
face flushed at the memory of the conversation. “I…admit it is
not a bad sort of weakness.”
Lucia grinned at her. “Of course it’s not, and there’s no
shame in enjoying it.”
“I suppose you’re right again,” Chris said, before a moment
of content silence passed between the two of them.
Looking down at the table, the Karayan returned the conversation to a serious
tone. “Now we have another thing in common-- we both seek revenge upon
the Locusti for the same reason. Twenty-five years ago they murdered my husband.
He and eight others were out hunting one day. They didn’t come back.
When we found them, they were stripped naked and their bodies cruelly marked
with a brand—a bulls-eye.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your loss,” Chris said softly, knowing
quite well that the words were trite.
Lucia gave a nod of thanks and then scowled. “I swore to the spirits
that I’d avenge his death, even if it took a lifetime. Hugo never knew
his father because of these people. Hopefully the same fate won’t befall
your children.”
“You think they’ve already killed Percival?” Chris asked,
her voice nearly catching in her throat.
“I don’t know for certain, but all the information your father
uncovered for me shows they have no honor or care for human life.”
Chris closed her eyes. “My father…”
Lucia nodded as she took the pipe back and put it out. “One of the many
things Wyatt did for me while he lived with us was to uncover their identity.
He tried to track them using his contacts, but they proved to be quite
elusive.”
“I see.”
Lucia stood up, a calculated resolve in her gaze. “If you truly want
to locate these people, I suggest that tomorrow you leave for Caleria and
find Lilly. Bring her back here, and we’ll see what else she knows.
I regret that I really didn’t ask her too many questions before, because
as I said, we did not wish to get involved, and she didn’t offer much
information, probably out of respect of our feelings on the
matter.”
Chris got to her feet, and put her hand on her hip. “I will go. I swore
to my children that I would bring their father back to them, and I certainly
intend to keep that promise.”
“And if they’ve already killed him?” Lucia asked gently.
“What will you do?”
With eyes half-hooded in resolve the former knight responded tenaciously,
“If he dead, he deserves a proper burial, and I will seek revenge on
the person who killed him. As you said Lucia, we are quite alike.”
The Karayan smiled at her. “Then I’ll have my men pack some provisions
for you. You know it’s about a week’s ride from here.”
“Thank you,” Chris said as she offered her hand.
Lucia took the woman’s hand and then pulled her into an embrace. “No,
thank you Chris. You have brought me hope that a vow I once made I will finally
be able to fulfill, even now in my older years. I will pray to the spirits
for your safety on the journey and that you and your children will not suffer
the same grief that I did.”
Kylan adjusted the false beard as she walked with Troian down the pier that
led to the town of Dubios. Following the crudely paved street, they passed
deserted stores, abandoned homes, and finally arrived in the square. It was
silent, all signs of life carefully plucked away, and the buildings left
as the only testimony to the once vibrant town.
Once in the square, the Captain and her First Mate glanced around. The woman
gave a smirk at her handiwork that had caused the stillness. Standing there
in the center of the dead town was a creation of precise engineering and
morbid destruction. It was a gigantic oblique blade, ominously suspended
between two dark timbers. A glint of sunlight ambled across the edge of the
weapon, stopping only on the huge smear of dried blood in the middle of it.
Still admiring her invention, Kylan grinned. “Did any of them accept
my gracious offer?”
“No, my Captain.”
She snorted disdainfully. “Loyalty to their embittered country will
be their undoing, but at least they will sate the hunger of my
Lycontane.”
Troian simply nodded to the smug woman, who was starting to look around,
clearly agitated. Patience was definitely not one of her virtues, and those
who made her wait would face a reprimand.
“My contact is late,” she said flatly as she glanced down into
a puddle to check the disguise and make up.
The fat man’s eyes trained off in the distance at the city’s large
wall. Like many Zexen-built walls it seemed impermeable. Nearly thirty feet
high, and at least ten feet thick, it had done well to protect Dubios in
the past. A solid iron gate graced the center of it, adorned with spikes
to deter any who would dare to invade.
As Kylan’s expression began to melt into something even less pleasant,
a man approached them from behind. He was tall and stout, with an impossibly
thick neck. Greasy red hair snaked from his head, and fell about his shoulders
as his slender blue eyes focused on the two in the square.
“Ah, Harvey. Good to see you again,” Troian said, resuming his
role as the Captain’s Voice.
“I’m alone, so the disguise isn’t necessary, Kylan.”
Harvey said tersely as bowed to his superiors. When the woman glared at him,
he changed his tone and added, “Always a pleasure to serve.”
“For what I’m paying you, it should be,” the woman
snapped.
Harvey sneered but bowed his head nonetheless, and asked the question that
he was expected to. “What is your desire?”
Kylan smirked at him and gave her demands as if she was ordering off a menu.
“The Zexens will return shortly. Dispense with their comrades. Put up
a fight when they least expect it, but in the end give them the city. Afterwards,
take your men to the rendezvous point. Oh, and be sure that my invention
remains here. I want them to see it.”
“Is that all?” He asked sarcastically.
Kylan held out a hand written letter and a small metal ring. “Place
these with them as well.”
“In plain sight?” Harvey asked as he took the items.
“Yes, be sure they can be easily found.”
The slimy man was hesitant as he asked, “Anything else?”
Troian produced a scroll from his jacket pocket. “Assign someone dependable
to this mission. We want to make sure it’s done correctly.”
Harvey raised a scruffy brow as he took the mysterious package and opened
it. As he read it, his mouth twisted into a sneer. “Your clients are
getting better at providing specific information. Be sure to thank them for
that as well as the opportunity for one of my men to cross swords with such
an illustrious foe.”
Kylan glared at him before she put him in his place. “Enough of your
dramatics. Just make sure it’s done right.”
Harvey quickly read the rest of the assignment. “Quick and painless?
That’s no fun.”
Rubbing the false beard for effect that she didn’t need, the Captain
grinned like a cat. “That is the client’s wishes. However, since
his men have killed so many of ours over the past few years be sure he
suffers.”
“With pleasure, my Captain,” he replied with a slight bow and then
left.
The woman turned on her heel without even looking to see if her mate was
following. “I hate that man! He’s so indignant!”
“He was one of your father’s strongest allies, Captain,” Troian
said tiredly as he trotted up to her. “He will complete the
mission.”
“I’m not worried about that,” she spat, quickening her pace
and changing the subject with a smirk. “Andrew best be up and working
in the kitchen when we get back on board. I will so enjoy telling him about
the fate I have just bought for his friend.”
Roland wasn’t surprised to find Salome staring out the windows of the
meeting room. The view off the second floor of the castle was especially
amazing when bathed in the evening sky, and such a sight could grant a moment
of peace to the viewer, no matter how distracted he was otherwise.
Although he didn’t want to interrupt his friend’s thoughts, the
elf did want to go home some time that evening. After a moment of standing
there without being recognized, he asked, “You wanted to see
me?”
Salome drew himself to his full height of nearly a hand over six feet, but
did not turn around. “I need two more lieutenants. Do you have any
suggestions?”
Roland didn’t need to ask which positions needed to be filled, nor why,
but he could certainly tell that simply having to make such a decision was
bothering the other man. “The soldiers have great respect for Melville
Lankingston. They know he fought with us back in the Fire Bringer War when
he was just a boy. He is still young, but you could offer it to him on a
trial basis until Borus returns.”
Salome nodded silently.
“That is my suggestion. As to the other vacancy…perhaps Phillip
Arton? He trained under Percival before being knighted and he certainly has
the capability to lead.”
“Fitting, I suppose,” the Captain said as he finally turned around
to face his friend. “Thank you for the recommendations. At the moment
I don’t feel like I could make an objective decision on such
matters.”
“I understand. Is that all you wanted to talk about?”
“No,” Salome said as he took a seat at the large circular table
in the center of the room. “I know you are anxious to go home to your
family, but I have a plan to take Dubios back and I need your help to implement
it.”
“All right,” the elf replied as he sat next to his friend. “Tell
me what you want me to do.”
Brushing the bangs of his dirty-blond hair from his face, the Captain said,
“I want you to leave tomorrow with the women—a full day ahead of
the rest of us. There are a few tiny towns just outside of Dubios. Stop at
one of them and buy the oldest, lamest horses you can find and some rickety
carts. Fill the carts with straw and barrels of wine.”
“The straw shouldn’t be a problem to find there, but the
wine?”
“Take some from the castle cellar,” he said with a shrug. “Ten
barrels should be more than plenty.”
“And when we get to Dubios?”
“Have the women put on the dresses you acquired for them. Then have
them announce themselves at the gate as wine peddlers.”
“You think the enemy will believe that?” Roland asked with a raised
brow.
“I’m sure of it. There’s probably only a small group of soldiers
holding the city—a hundred men at most.” Salome grinned as he added:
“I’m sure they’ll be thirsty.”
“What about the men we encountered in the woods?”
“If you travel as traders, they shouldn’t bother you, if they are
even still there. I have the feeling that after our last encounter their
mission was considered complete. But, on the off chance you do run into them,
be sure to take note of their location.”
Roland didn’t like to second-guess the Captain, but one point bothered
him. “You don’t believe that there are any civilians inside the
city? That is it just being held by soldiers?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose in thought. “If there are, they are
Zexens. I doubt Tinto—or whomever we are actually fighting—has
bothered to try to move settlers in. It’s too expensive and too soon.
Besides, all the intelligence that Louis has gathered for me shows that
Tinto’s treasury was exhausted years ago.”
“Fair enough, but then how do you think they are financing this
war?”
“It’s hard to say,” Salome said, exhaustion overtaking his
tone. “It seems that orchestrating wars has become the game to play
as of late.”
Roland tilted his head ever so slightly. “Harmonia?”
“I’m not sure, but I’ve sent some letters to a few of my contacts.
Louis is also doing his best to find out as well.”
“All right. Now, about Dubios, once we are in the gates, what do you
want us to do?”
“Reconnaissance. I want to know the exact location of every building
and every guard. Check the trees, the walls, check every place from which
the enemy could possibly ambush us again.”
“Of course.”
“There’s more. The second night let the women serve the wine to
some of the men in the city. When they are drunk enough, bind their hands
and lock them up. If there are more than I anticipated, take care of as many
as you can, then get out of the city and burn the wagons. If I see the smoke,
I’ll know we’ll need a different plan.”
“Should we drug them?” The elf asked as he rubbed his chin.
“No,” Salome said as stood and reclaimed his place near the window.
“In the event they force your group to prove it’s not poisoned
or drugged, you’ll be able to do that.”
Roland nodded. “It sounds simple enough, if not a bit more deceptive
than your usual schemes.”
“Although I prefer a head-on fight, with enemies that are scurrilous
phantoms, we have to be more cunning,” he said before turning back around
to look out over the castle.
Larkstyle’s Tavern was one of the sleazier dives of Vinay del Zexay.
Located just off the docks, it attracted mostly sailors, but other folks
with less attractive occupations also frequented it. The place was poorly
lit, with just small candles on the tables for light, but this provided a
much-needed cover for the transactions of the shady clientele. In a corner
of the establishment sat two men who didn’t fit into the ale-soaked
the atmosphere at all. No one dared to interrupt their intense
conversation—not even the surly barmaid.
“You and the others will need to secure a unanimous vote to quash any
doubts the masses might have about such a move,” the tall redheaded
man said as he adjusted the scarf around his shoulders.
Justin Plasser shook his head as he cursed under his breath. His colleagues
had forced him to meet with this horribly arrogant man to prove his sincerity
to the group. The young Councilor wished the conference would end, because
in the few minutes he had sat with the man, he had already decided that he
despised him. “You’ll never get it. Not with Keeferson and what
little bit of remaining support he’ll generate. People are strangely
sympathetic to him.”
“You have more faith in him than I expected.”
The sandy-haired man pushed his spectacles up on his nose before taking a
sip from his wooden mug. “I’ve seen him sway votes with just a
few heart wrenching, charismatic words.”
A haughty grin flashed across the tall man’s face. “Not this time.
Things are about to change. The people will be crying for war in less than
a few days’ time and you’ll need a strong alliance to beat your
unscrupulous enemies.”
“How can you be so sure this will open those doors?” Plasser asked
as he nervously glanced around.
“As I told your comrades years ago, Zexen will have to make some
concessions, but I’m sure that in the end both of our respective nations
will be pleased with the outcome.”
“I hope you are not playing us,” Justin warned as he drank again
from his mug.
The redheaded man casually ran his finger through the flame of the candle.
“Didn’t I fully predict the actions of your own ‘Silver
Maiden?’ The people have already started gossiping that she has returned
to end the war. That in itself shows their hopes of victory have been revived,
and the best time to crush hope is when it is at its strongest. Then
there’s no chance it will be resurrected.”
“Yes, I’ll give you that. She certainly didn’t waste a moment
before rushing into town and demanding to be allowed back into the
Army.”
“As I’ve said before, knowing what motivates people helps in exploiting
them,” he said conceitedly. “Now, with her gone, we’re ready
for the next step.”
Justin shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “So this next step then…it
is…”
“Most necessary and information has already been sent to the people
who will take care of it, as well as their payment.”
“All right. They are reliable?”
The supercilious man snorted. “They’ve certainly kept your Army
busy for the past five years.”
“I don’t mean that. I mean can they be trusted?”
The redheaded man glared at him. “I trust no one.”
“How do you know them, then?”
“As I’ve already explained to some of your cohorts, I encountered
them in my travels. It’s best left at that. Now, in regards to the next
tactic, you seem hesitant. I don’t understand. You people wanted a war
and I made one for you. Where’s your bloodlust? Next time I think your
colleagues should reconsider who they send to meet me.”
The young Councilor glanced off the distance as if to check for eavesdroppers,
but could not make out much in the dim tavern. “Sending Chris on a
fool’s quest was one thing, but killing Salome Harras seems a little
extreme in comparison.”
The redheaded man gave a bored sigh and seemed exasperated at having to explain
his reasoning. “Without him, your Army will be in chaos and that is
essential for the next part of the plan.”
Plasser nervously scratched the back of his head. “You’re absolutely
sure? While the others don’t seem to care, murder does bother
me.”
The man smirked, his green eyes reflecting the candlelight and causing him
to appear most sinister. “That’s what you and the others are paying
me for--to be absolutely sure. Knights are killed in battle all the time.
It’s not murder, it’s an occupational hazard.”
Justin didn’t answer, but simply took another sip of his drink, the
sweat on his hands nearly causing him to drop the mug.
The arrogant man continued to play with the flame of the candle as he spoke,
his tone remaining completely blasé and full of disdain. “Besides
you don’t really believe that Chris Lightfellow ever led your Army do
you? Harras was doing it all a long and just using her as the pretty face
that would give his orders. I have to hand it to him, it was a brilliant
strategy, and I doubt your Army would have stood as strong against the
Grasslanders had he not refused your Council’s original offer of the
Captain position.”
“How could he convince her to go along with such a scheme?” Justin
asked, now a little less agitated now that the conversation had devolved
from plotting to simple gossip.
The redheaded man ran a hand through his disheveled hair and answered the
question nonchalantly. “Stroked her ego, played on her sympathies—who
knows. Maybe they were sleeping together. It doesn’t matter. I would
have done the same had it achieved my goal of winning a war.”
“It doesn’t make any sense,” Justin said with a shake of his
head.
Impatience and annoyance at the young man’s ignorance were not held
back as he gave a smirk-drawn response. “Let me try and put it in terms
that you can understand. If you were a solider, would you rather pledge your
life to a beautiful young woman or a homely middle-aged man?”
“You have a point there,” Plasser replied flatly.
“Glad that you could see it. Now, you’ll have to trust me on this
one, but if you truly want to form a worthy alliance, we’ll need Keeferson
to agree as well. Arrangements have been made in that department, since as
I said, solidarity is imperative for everything to work.”
“Don’t tell me you intend to kill him, too?” The bespectacled
man whispered.
His lips curled into a near-chuckle, but still he replied in the same
disinterested voice. “No, it wouldn’t serve any purpose. Besides,
you and your friends would do well to learn how to gain the sympathies of
the people as he does.”
With a scowl Justin asked, “Well then, what?”
Producing a small piece of paper with a broken seal, the tall man slid it
to the young Councilor. “You are simply going to make him an offer he
can’t refuse.”