The First Champion

by Sandell Wall

  “She thinks every member of House Riggor should become a tomb keeper,” Hexia said, referring to Elise. “She says to aspire for anything less tarnishes the legacy of our house. I don’t know how she can walk with the spear she’s got rammed so far up her backside.”

  When Niad showed no interest in discussing the family politics of House Riggor, Hexia dropped the subject. A few minutes later, they arrived at the slave quarter. They passed through a low gateway set in a wall of gray stone. This wall separated the slaves from the rest of the city. Beyond this wall, a row of iron bars provided an added measure of security. A trio of tomb keepers guarded the locked iron gate. At their back, the circular enclosures that housed the slaves were evenly spaced against the outer wall of the city.

  Niad produced the wooden chip that hung at her belt. One of the guards accepted it, gave it a glance, and moved away to find the proper pen. She gestured for one of the other tomb keepers to accompany her. This left the three of them staring at the single remaining guard.

  Hexia could not resist filling the awkward silence.

  “Can you believe it?” Hexia said to the tomb keeper. “I finally got my first job as a guide! The main routes will be packed, so I’m going to take them on one of the uncharted trails. They only call them ‘uncharted’ because they don’t have a proper map. But my family does, and I’ve memorized them. We’ll probably set a speed record. Do you think that’s ever happened before? A rookie guide setting a record on her first job?”

  The tomb keeper stared at Hexia while the young woman chattered. Hexia did not seem to notice or care that the woman made no effort to respond. When the other two guards returned with Brant and the others in tow, Hexia shifted her attention to them without missing a beat.

  “This is your merchandise?” Hexia said. “Two of them are too sick to walk!”

  Niad and Lacrael stood to one side as the guards ushered the rest of their party through the gate. Brant had to duck underneath the metal bar. Kaiser was the last to step through, and when he had, the tomb keepers shut and locked the gate behind him.

  Hexia was not shy about inspecting the “merchandise.” She got right up in Sorrell’s face, touched the other woman’s hair, reached up a rough hand to turn Sorrell’s head, and finally nodded in approval.

  “She’s pretty enough,” Hexia said. “She’ll fetch you a good price to the right buyer.”

  Shocked by the crude treatment, Sorrell clearly did not know how to respond. Wide-eyed, she glanced at Niad, who shook her head slightly. Lacrael hoped the others followed Sorrell’s lead and endured Hexia’s curiosity without comment.

  Kaiser stood next to Sorrell, and Hexia moved towards him. She stopped short when she looked into his eyes. Lacrael saw the fear in Hexia’s hesitation. Even when masquerading as a slave, Kaiser still possessed the bearing of a killer that gave others pause. Hexia sniffed at Tarathine, who was unconscious in Kaiser’s arms.

  “She’s probably contagious,” Hexia said, providing a convenient excuse to avoid Kaiser. “Better off leaving her to the Ravening. No one’s going to buy a sick slave.”

  Hexia moved on without making eye contact with Kaiser again. Next came Brant. By now, he understood what was going on. He waited patiently for Hexia to turn her attention on him. In his arms, Gustavus watched Hexia through half-open eyes.

  She let out a low whistle when she approached Brant. Hexia circled him slowly. Lacrael ground her teeth when Hexia reached out and pinched Brant’s left buttock. As she came back around to the front of him, Hexia squeezed one of his biceps approvingly.

  “I’m tempted to buy this one myself,” Hexia said.

  Brant looked over Hexia’s head at Lacrael. Hexia traced the outline of the dragon amulet embedded in his bare chest with the tip of a finger.

  “Did you find him this way, or did you decorate him yourself?” Hexia asked. “It doesn’t matter. A fine specimen like this will make for prime breeding stock in Orcassus. Maybe I’ll requisition him for House Riggor’s stables.”

  “If you’re quite finished, we should prepare to depart,” Niad said. “If the capital is as busy as you say, I’m eager to arrive as soon as possible.”

  Hexia smirked, misinterpreting the edge in Niad’s voice. “Sensitive about the big boy, are we? I’m sure you’ll be just devastated to see him go.” She gave Niad a conspiratorial wink. “After all, who’s going to carry all your invalids when you sell your big, strapping men?”

  “My business is my problem,” Niad said. “What I need from you is to get me to Orcassus.”

  “‘My business is my problem,’” Hexia echoed in a mocking, overly serious tone. “Bite my backside, you’re wound as tight as my half-sister. Fine, have it your way.”

  Hexia unshouldered her pack and let it drop to the ground. She knelt, loosened the straps, and rummaged around inside. Soon, she had arranged the breathing masks and filtering packs they would need on the street next to her.

  “I checked the filters myself,” Hexia said. “They’re clean enough to get us to Orcassus. It’s only a few hours’ walk. I’ll take all the coin you’re carrying, and we’ll call it even.”

  Niad glanced at Lacrael. Lacrael knew that Niad hated giving up all their funds this way, but the only purpose of that money had been to get them this far in the first place. If they needed currency once they were inside Orcassus’s walls, they would find a way to get more.

  Lacrael gave Niad a tiny nod. Niad tossed the pouch that contained all their money onto the street next to Hexia. Hexia scooped it up and felt its weight in her palm. She bounced it once, nodded in satisfaction, and stashed it away in her pack.

  That done, Niad and Hexia distributed the breathing apparatuses. Niad handed one to Lacrael last, as was befitting a forsaken slave. The device had a small satchel designed to hang from the wearer’s belt. Inside this pouch sat a piece of spongy fungus that would scrub the miasma poison from the air as it was sucked into the mouthpiece. Connected to the filtering pack by two tightly wound leather tubes, the mouthpiece was a simple metal disk hammered to fit over the mouth. Once in position, it was held in place by biting down on a strip of hard leather connected to the mouthpiece.

  Lacrael slipped the device beneath her mask to test the fit. In an unexpected boon, it held the mask off her face, providing a blessed reprieve from the coarse wood. She took a test pull of air through the mouthpiece. It had a faint, musty taste, but it was not unpleasant.

  While everyone was getting comfortable with the breathing masks, Hexia handed out wooden clips.

  “These are for your noses,” Hexia said. “Once we’re outside, don’t inhale through your nostrils. A single lungful of concentrated miasma is enough to knock you out.”

  Kaiser and Brant both struggled to get the masks fit on Tarathine and Gustavus properly. Gustavus could at least make a feeble effort to coordinate. Tarathine remained dead to the world. Kaiser practiced clamping her nose shut and holding the mouthpiece hard against her face. He leaned his ear close to her head, trying to detect if she would breathe through her mouth if her nose was blocked.

  Lacrael wished she could do something to help, but she was effectively trapped as long as Hexia was present. Unless Niad gave her a direct command, she had to remain invisible. And to draw as little attention to Lacrael as possible, Niad was avoiding speaking to her.

  Tarathine must have responded to Kaiser’s efforts, because he straightened and gave Niad a nod. Lacrael breathed a sigh of relief. As weak as Tarathine was, this last leg of the journey was going to be hard on her. Kaiser refused to admit it, but it was obvious that if Tarathine did not receive help within the next few days, she would probably never recover.

  “If the invalids are finally ready, can we go?” Hexia said.

  “What’s the hurry?” Niad said. “We just passed through the staging area for outgoing travelers. That crowd will take hours to dissipate, and we’re last in line.”

  “You’d think that, wouldn’t you?” Hexia said, sounding mi
schievous. “But your guide is no mere commoner. There’s not a city in the empire that my family doesn’t have a secret way to bypass its walls. Don’t believe me? Come on, I’ll show you!”

  Hexia moved away down the street towards the outer wall of the city. She walked quickly, expecting everyone to fall into step behind her.

  “Where did you find this one?” Kaiser said when he passed by Niad.

  “I didn’t,” Niad said. She waved at Kaiser to follow Hexia. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later.”

  With Hexia in the lead, their small group traversed the perimeter of the city, always keeping the massive, fortified walls on their left. Once, Lacrael reached out a hand to brush against the stoneworks with her fingertips. She was surprised to discover that the rock was cold to the touch.

  In the sky above their heads, the sun had reached its apex for the day and had started its slow descent into the west. Lacrael watched Niad check the sun’s position three times before she finally voiced her concern to Hexia.

  “It’s past noon and will soon be evening,” Niad said. “Shouldn’t we wait till morning to make the crossing?”

  Hexia scoffed.

  “The average guide can get a group this size to Orcassus in two hours,” Hexia said. “I’ll do it in one. Trust me, in a few hours you’ll be reclining on tasseled pillows in the hall of slavers and watching the sunset while you sip chilled wine.”

  Ahead of them, a small building protruded from the outer wall of the city. It was windowless, with a flat roof, and to Lacrael’s untrained eye, it looked like a nondescript storehouse much like many others they had passed by. However, unlike the others, this one had a man sitting on a stool next to the heavy, iron-banded door. He was well-muscled, and he crossed his bare arms while he watched them approach. A wooden cudgel rested against the wall next to his stool. It was the first weapon she had seen in the possession of a Palacostian man.

  Hexia stopped in front of the seated man and put her hands on her hips.

  “Open the door, already!” Hexia said. “What’re you gawking at? You know who I am.”

  “You, I know,” the man said. He had a deep voice and spoke slowly. “These others. Who are they?”

  “They’re with me,” Hexia said. “I’m going to guide them to Orcassus. Now get on your feet and let me inside!”

  “I wasn’t told about this,” the man said.

  “Of course you weren’t, you imbecile. Do you think you’re supposed to know everything that a member of House Riggor might be doing in the city at any given time? You have one job. Tend the door. That means you open it for me when I tell you to. And I said open it!”

  The man glared up at Hexia from beneath his bushy eyebrows. He was obviously contemplating defiance. In the end, he thought better of it, and heaved himself up from his stool.

  “Wait here,” the man said.

  He produced a key from a pocket, unlocked the sturdy door, and slammed it behind him as he disappeared inside.

  “Can you believe his attitude?” Hexia said to Niad. “Just because I’m young doesn’t mean I don’t command the full respect of my family name. I should have the man whipped and banished just to prove the point.”

  Niad was saved from having to respond by the guard opening the door. He swung it wide and stepped aside, indicating that they could enter. Hexia went first, and everyone else filed in behind her. Inside, the room was lined with shelves that were anchored to both floor and ceiling. These shelves were packed with an assortment of tiny locked chests and wooden boxes.

  Once they were all inside, the guard made his way down a narrow aisle towards the rear wall. At the back of the room, the man had activated a hidden mechanism to reveal the entrance to a secret tunnel. The stone wall had folded in on itself and a section of the floor had opened up. A set of stone steps descended into darkness.

  Hexia paused at the top of the stairs.

  “You can’t come back this way,” the man said.

  “I know that,” Hexia snapped. She turned her body so that the rest of them could see her face. “Masks on. This side of the city faces Orcassus. The miasma will be thick right outside the walls.”

  Lacrael followed Hexia’s example and pulled the leather strap of the breather up and around the back of her head. She made sure the tubes could hang easily and would not get crimped while she walked. Last but not least, Lacrael put the wooden clip over her nose. She tested the fit by trying to draw a breath through her nostrils. It proved impossible. From here until they reached Orcassus, she would breathe only filtered air through her mouth.

  Sorrell helped Kaiser make sure Tarathine’s mask was secured. Brant wrestled against Gustavus’s feeble protests, until finally, the disgruntled captain gave up and let Brant tie the breather around his head.

  Hexia watched all this with her arms crossed. She fidgeted like an impatient child. When Niad gave her a nod to indicate that they were ready, Hexia started down the shadowy stairs. Lacrael waited for everyone else to go ahead of her. Kaiser barely fit in in the tiny opening. Brant had to bend almost in half to squeeze into the hidden tunnel. He held Gustavus out in front of him, grunting with the effort of carrying the man in outstretched arms.

  Lacrael went last. She glanced at the guard as she stepped by him, but he looked through her as if she did not exist. When she had gone down five steps, something above and behind her started to grind with a low rumble. Lacrael stopped and looked over her shoulder. The wall and floor fell back into place in a slow, controlled avalanche. When it finished, the stairway had been sealed.

  The sensation of being buried alive almost caused Lacrael to cry out. The tunnel was plunged into complete blackness. Lacrael groped in front of her, suddenly unsure of her footing. What had seemed a simple set of stairs now loomed in her mind like a deadly precipice.

  Like it or not, their lives were now in the hands of Hexia.

  Chapter 25

  LACRAEL EMERGED FROM THE secret tunnel into miasma so thick she imagined she could feel it pressing against her. It was almost as dark outside as it had been in the tunnel. Their group huddled together, keeping each other in sight and waiting for Hexia to choose a path. Instinctively, Lacrael moved to stand near Brant. She did not risk speaking or looking at him, but she drew courage from the force of his presence.

  Hexia rummaged around in her pack for a moment. She withdrew a strange-looking metal rod, which proved to be an oil fueled torch. After igniting the burning end, she held it high over her head. The brilliant orange flame cast odd shadows. As Hexia moved, the miasma receded from the open fire, leaving her a small pocket of good visibility.

  “You’re going to carry a torch?” Niad said. “I was always told that a naked flame angers the Ravening.”

  Hexia laughed. “Of course you were,” she said. “That's nothing but silly superstition spread by cowards and fools. Now come on, I’ll show you how someone who isn’t afraid of the mist travels.”

  Speech was possible while wearing the breathers, but it was hard to talk while holding the leather strap in their teeth, and their voices were muffled. Lacrael tested it by muttering to herself. She had to break the seal around her lips, allowing both sound and air to escape.

  Torch raised to ward off the miasma, Hexia moved away from the city walls. Niad seemed bothered by Hexia’s response, but they had little choice now. There was no way back. They had to trust Hexia to guide them to Orcassus.

  Lacrael took up the rear. Their party walked single file, never straying more than an arm’s length from the next person in line. From her position in the back, Lacrael could just make out the hazy glow of Hexia’s torch. Lacrael glanced over her shoulder—the city behind them had disappeared.

  The ground beneath Lacrael’s feet sloped sharply downward. Hexia skipped down the steep incline without any thought of how difficult it would be for those that followed her. Laden with the burdens of Tarathine and Gustavus, Kaiser and Brant struggled to keep up. At the bottom of the hill, Hexia paused, not for
their sake, but to determine which path to take next. The rest of them crowded around her, breathing hard.

  “If you lose any of my merchandise, your reputation as a guide is going to be trashed from the start,” Niad said.

  “Leave the cripples behind if you can’t keep up,” Hexia said. “No one’s going to care if your invalids die out here, and I’m not going to lose the chance at setting a record on my first crossing because you purchased pathetic slaves.”

  Hexia did not wait for a response. She decided on a direction and plunged into the miasma ahead of them.

  “We’ll make it,” Kaiser said. “Just keep on her.”

  For the next hour, it was all they could do to keep Hexia’s torch in sight. Niad did her best to guide them around terrain that Hexia scampered straight over. More than once, Lacrael came up alongside Brant and Kaiser to help them up over a ledge.

  The nearer they drew to Orcassus, the more hostile the landscape became. Soon, the overland route proved impassable. Rocky hills turned into sheer cliffs, and Hexia diverted their path down into a network of narrow canyons.

  Lacrael kept one hand on the rock wall to her left as she descended the crumbling ledge. On her right was nothing but open air. The miasma made even the smallest drop seem like a plunge into the abyss. The canyon trail forked and forked again. At each intersection, Hexia chose their path without hesitation. Her lack of indecision might encourage confidence in others, but Lacrael worried the girl was guessing.

  The canyons were riddled with caves. Hexia might claim that the stories about the Ravening were myths and superstition, but when the mouth of a cave loomed out of the darkness, she gave it a wide berth. Unable to stifle her morbid curiosity, Lacrael peered into the entrance of each cave they passed. The shadows cast by Hexia’s torch played tricks on her mind. Lacrael’s eyes latched onto the slightest hint of movement, and she could almost swear she spotted things drawing further back into the darkness, away from the offensive light.

  Hexia must have felt the same fear that was building in Lacrael, because the young woman increased her pace until she was almost running. Ahead of Lacrael, Sorrell stumbled on a loose rock. Lacrael came up beside the other woman and helped her up.