Zellohar

by Chris A. Jackson

  "How can he hope to be successful with the limited resources he has at his disposal?" Lysethra cast the note aside in distaste. "Surely, after all this time, he can not expect aid from Clan Darkmist or the council. If he intends to continue with a campaign that is eighty-seven years lost, we have no choice but to inform the council and crush him utterly."

  Calmarel whirled toward the table, her eyes flashing like black flame with sudden realization.

  "You are only half correct, sister eldest." She advanced on the table with a jingle of jewelry, locking her gaze with that of her sibling. "Our brother may be lacking in some things, but I will grant him the wisdom to know when he is outnumbered. And although his undertaking had the council's blessing ninety years ago, he must be aware that the support of the council or Clan Darkmist will not be granted again so willingly.

  "Let us not be so hasty to involve the council" she continued, wagging a finger and resuming her pacing. "I think we should investigate the situation ourselves first. Iveron knows that it is futile for him to go directly to the council. His only hope of gaining their attention is through us, so we needn't worry about the council until we are ready to tell them."

  "But the eyrie master..." Lysethra started, her voice trailing off as she saw the glint in her sister's eye.

  "That problem," Calmarel quipped with an evil little laugh, "has been addressed."

  Damn! Lysethra raged inwardly. It's hard enough to get good help these days. Replacing the eyrie master would be next to impossible with the rumors of his disappearance spreading like the plague. Her dark eyes followed Calmarel's continued pacing, smoldering with her simmering anger.

  "There are two possible motives behind this message," her younger sister continued. "He could be trying to gain support and reinforcements from the clan and the council. Or, as the evidence of his escape suggests, he has somehow gained great power and has no need for reinforcements. This leads one to ask why he would contact us in the first place." She lapsed into a contemplative silence, pressing the spider medallion to her lips.

  Lysethra endured the silence for a time, then spoke. "Perhaps his aims are twofold. If he has gained power, his goals may not only include the conquest of the surface world, but of Hourglass as well."

  Calmarel pounced on that thought like a waiting mantis.

  "So he has sent a greeting, hoping to lure us into his web and gain control of the clan through our unfortunate demise. He would gain a seat on the council and the backing of the clan." She tapped the medallion to her lips in contemplation, running her tongue lightly over the bloated spider shape.

  "Either way, sister eldest, we had best treat our brother with a new caution, for if he wields the power to break that enchantment, he could snuff out our lives like a candle. And if he gains the backing of the council, I daresay he will be all but unstoppable."

  Sleep lingered on the edge of Avari's mind. She snuggled deeper into the sheets, luxuriating in the comfort. Slowly she opened her eyes and smiled, delighted by the dancing reflections on the wall of sunlight on the water. WATER?

  Panic seized her, then transformed to anger when she remembered where she was. Jumping out of the bunk, she realized that her belt, money, pack and weapons were gone, and her acquaintance of the night before was nowhere to be seen.

  "How could I have been so foolish?" she raged, pounding the empty bunk with her fist. "Trusting a total stranger! To actually drink what may well have been poison!" Although, now that she thought of it, she did feel better than she had in over a week. Still, she would find that man... elf... man-elf, whatever he was, who had robbed her, and she would...

  A glint of metal caught her eye and she glanced over to the objects piled neatly next to the chest. Her weapons, pouch, cloak and pack were neatly stacked in the corner.

  "Avari," she chastised herself, "you are going to have to learn to control your temper and stop jumping to conclusions."

  As she gathered her things, she cringed at the curses she had been mentally preparing for... Shay, was it? As if in answer, the cabin door opened and the half-elf entered.

  "Ah, you have awakened. And I must say, you are looking much more fit than before." He smiled, then turned and gathered his own things, putting small pouches and bags, blades and vials, tools and trinkets into pockets that seemed to vanish when he straightened his robes.

  "We will be in port soon. I thought perhaps you might enjoy the beauty of a serene ocean. Although the rough weather we endured has its own magnificent nature, I do not believe you were in the proper frame of mind to appreciate it when we met."

  Avari hadn't realized that the ship wasn't lurching, but rolling in a gentle swaying movement, which she rather enjoyed. She looked back at him, her face breaking into a wide grin.

  "Lead the way, kind sir."

  Shay led the way to the foredeck, the site of her previous incapacitation. The sea and sky again blended one into the other, but instead of a steel grey, they were now a brilliant blue. How different it was. Porpoises leaped into the air on the bow wake, easily keeping pace with the ship. Even the sailors greeted them cheerfully, not with derisive glares as before.

  "I could learn to like sailing, if it was always like this," Avari said. She leaned against the rail and closed her eyes, the bite of the crisp breeze tempered by the caressing touch of the warm sun. When she opened her eyes, she found Shay staring at her. She looked away, examining the dark smudge on the horizon. Land was in sight.

  "Yes," Shay mused, "a sea voyage is good for the soul."

  They stood there for a quiet moment, both staring across the water, lost in their own thoughts. Finally Shay reached into the depths of his robes and brought forth a rather large sack.

  "A sea voyage is also good for the appetite," he said, and proceeded to remove bread, cheese and some salted meat from the bag. He settled himself on one pile of rope, motioning Avari to a take the next. At the sight of food, her stomach growled in rebellion and she quickly pulled out her own bag of rations. Upon delving into its interior, however, she found that her bread and cheese were so moldy they were hard to distinguish from one another. She grimaced, but started to cut the mold off with her belt knife.

  "I don't know how these went bad so quickly. I only bought them before I boarded the ship. Maybe they got damp when I got soaked out on deck last night."

  "Oh, that was two days ago," Shay said as he looked up at her. "I forgot to tell you. You slept a long time." He went back to cutting his cheese. Avari looked at him dumb-founded.

  "Two days? I've never slept for two days! What was in that drink you gave me?"

  "Well, I may have overestimated the proper dose for you." Shay looked apologetic and shrugged. "You must have been much more exhausted than I thought for it to affect you so."

  She ignored the implied question, attacking her food before it attacked her first. "No wonder I'm so hungry."

  The half-elf suddenly reached over, grabbed her rotten food and tossed it overboard. Avari almost went over after it. She turned angrily then realized that he had divided his supplies into two portions, one significantly larger than the other. This he pushed over to her.

  "If you had eaten that, you would have gotten sick again. I have plenty for now. We will be in town soon enough and will be able to get a decent meal. Please eat. I insist."

  Now it was Avari's turn to look sheepish. She mumbled an embarrassed thank you and sampled the food. There was a lapse in the conversation as the two attended to their impromptu meal. She ate slowly, relishing each bite and pausing between for long drinks from Shay's water skin. Finally sated, Avari leaned back and relaxed. She looked over at Shay, who sat with his eyes closed. As if sensing her stare, he looked at her and smiled.

  "I want to thank you for all that you've done for me on this voyage." She smiled ruefully. "I don't know how I would have managed if not for your little 'cure'. I have some money if—"

  "I will take no payment from you," Shay said, an upraised hand forestalling protest. "As I
said, it is both my nature and my calling to help those in need. My reward is seeing you looking hale and strong enough to face whatever lies before you."

  Avari nodded to a few of the other passengers, looking much the same as she must have looked previously.

  "What about them?" she asked. "There's a lot of need there."

  Shay shrugged. "Had I the resources..." His answer trailed off. "As it is, I was able to assist you and I am content." He looked up at her, his violet eyes peering from under dark brows. "However, I am also curious as to why you are traveling to the mainland when sea travel obviously does not agree with you."

  Avari's eyes gleamed briefly with a fury that she could not disguise before she looked back out to sea.

  "I'm looking for some men," she said after a long pause, offering no further explanation. Shay merely shrugged, and they both watched the ocean in silence.

  Four filthy orcs huddled around the fire they had built on the steps of Zellohar Keep. The orcs were on guard duty, and not enjoying it in the least. Their guttural conversation of grunts and snorts spoke of typically orcish things, anything to help them ignore the discomfort of their surroundings. Ironically, these particular orcs had been chosen for guard duty due to their relative intelligence and long attention spans. But their attention waned with the biting chill and the daylight that tortured eyes long accustomed to the mountain's dark depths. Eventually, the only thoughts that entered their minds were of the end of their watch and their return to the soothing dimness of the keep.

  The four were so preoccupied with their misery that none noticed the small dark figure moving among the shadows of the spires atop the outer wall. Their conversation turned to the recreational activities due to be held that evening, discussing at length who would get the choicest portions of the traitorous goblin who had been caught sneaking extra rations. While one expressed his preference for the softer hindquarters, the others agreed that the tougher back and shoulder were much tastier if cooked slowly in a stew.

  Adhering to the rock like a spider, the unseen intruder worked his way carefully along the cliff face to the overhang above the keep's doors, where he melted into the shadows and vanished. He could hear the voices of the orcs below, and though he understood some of their conversation, he cared little for their various recipes for goblin. He drew his dark cloak close and settled down to wait in the shelter of the dwarven sculpture.

  CHAPTER 5

  Butterflies played wild games of chase and catch around the unforgiving pit of Avari's stomach. At first she was worried that ship's sickness had returned, but the ship had already rounded the broad peninsula that protected the wide harbor of Beriknor. She finally recognized her mixed emotions for what they were: a sickening combination of sorrow, despair, loneliness and trepidation, tempered by a roaring hatred of the men she intended to kill. She stood quietly at the rail of the ship, quelling the raging emotions, strengthening her resolve.

  However, when the ship headed not for the walled city docks, but for the calm waters to the side of the main channel, her patience melted away.

  "Wha—! Shay! Where are we going?" Avari looked around desperately, but no one else seemed disturbed by the detour. "Why aren't we going to dock? Are we to row in from here?"

  "Why, no, Avari. We will dock, in time. But for now we must wait for a position at the docks, and for our arrival to be approved." He motioned landward, and Avari looked more closely at the city where she hoped to claim her revenge.

  Beriknor was much larger than Isleport, the only other 'city' that Avari had ever seen, and, from this distance, looked grey, smoky and dirty. It was surrounded by impressive walls set with battlements that ran right to the water's rocky edge, and towers flanking the gates near the docks, to prevent attack by sea. The piers and long stone quays were crowded with ships loading and unloading cargo, the wharves swarming with a mass confusion of people. She wondered how anything ever got done, but Shay assured her that order actually reigned under the apparent chaos.

  Their ship spun to a halt as the anchor dropped and caught. Nearby, a number of other ships also waited for space at the quays, multi-hued flags fluttering from their masts. The sound of pipe music floated in the air as sailors celebrated the safe end of yet another voyage, and regaled each other with outlandish tales of how they would spend their time and pay ashore.

  The colors and music lent a festive air that clashed with Avari's stern mood. It reminded her of the Harvest Festival in Isleport; this would be the first year she and her father would not attend. Her resolve to be unemotional faltered, then crumbled. She clung the rail in white-knuckled fury, fighting back tears.

  Shay glanced sidelong at the tall young woman. Her carefully blank face screamed of inner turmoil, yet he did not know if he should offer support or leave her alone. Eventually, he decided to compromise.

  "That ship over there," the half-elf pointed out, "their sailors observe the strangest customs before putting out to sea." He let the comment hang, watching to see if the lure would succeed in catching Avari's attention. She bit, if only halfheartedly.

  "Excuse me? What did you say?"

  Shay launched into a narrative of the different vessels, the lands from whence they hailed and the customs of their cultures. Avari listened, at first just to be polite, but his enthusiasm soon had her smiling, and even laughing. His anecdotes of the sailors' antics allowed her to forget, for a short time, the grievous purpose of her voyage.

  As the sun began its slide into the ocean, their wait at anchor again became tiresome. Avari was about to ask Shay again how long they might expect to wait, when a small boat left the docks and headed toward them. As the craft drew near, the sun shone on the stylized emblem painted on the sail.

  "The pilot boat," Shay explained. "The weather delayed our arrival, and the captain said that there should be a space at the dock. And that," he said, pointing at the painted sail, "is the city seal. Be wary of any who show that emblem, Avari. The city officials wield considerable power, and are not all to be trusted."

  With a sage if not quite attentive nod, Avari focused on the boat's occupants. The city official's rich clothing and haughty manner identified him; he was also the only one clinging to the mast to keep from falling overboard. He was obviously unaccustomed to this duty, and Avari guessed from his bearing and girth that his usual post was behind a desk.

  The boat pulled alongside, and a rope ladder was lowered. Avari stifled a snort of laughter as the official tried to grasp the ladder from the pitching deck of the small craft. She nudged Shay, but he frowned and shook his head. She shrugged and turned back to watch. The man finally scrambled up, then brushed himself off and straightened his cloak. Two guards followed, flanking the official, then came the harbor pilot.

  Avari's first impression of the administrator left her surprised that the ladder had taken his weight, as he was almost as wide as he was tall. He wore velvet robes and little black shoes with pointed toes, and took special care to step around any stains on the deck. Blatant disdain painted his piggish features as he counted the passengers and inspected their belongings. At a little girl's approach he stumbled back, yelling at the captain.

  "Keep this rabble in its place! It's bad enough that my regular tax collector is ill. I refuse to be accosted by the riffraff you call passengers!" He fluttered a silk handkerchief in front of his face, shielding his nose against the fresh sea breeze. "The gods only know what kind of pestilence they are carrying."

  Avari shot him a contemptuous glare as the little girl ran crying back to her mother. The captain trailed him like a puppy, answering his questions and enduring his insults.

  "Why does the captain put up with this?" she asked Shay in a low voice. "Why doesn't he just order him off the ship?"

  Before Shay could answer, the pair stepped in front of him. The official questioned Shay briefly about his business; Avari was astounded to see the half-elf bow courteously and smile along with his answers. The repugnant little man returned Shay's smile,
charged him a minimal tax, then turned to Avari.

  "What is your occupation?" he asked as he looked her up and down.

  "I am a horse farmer," Avari answered. "I raise and train—"

  "And what is your reason for coming to our fair city?" he interrupted, as he jotted notes on a piece of parchment.

  "It's none of your—"

  Her reply was cut off by a kick to her calf from Shay. She turned and caught the warning look in his eye.

  She signed and continued. "My father just died and I'm—"

  "We're not an orphanage, you know!" the disgusting man barked. "You look more like a mercenary. A bit young, though I would wager there are some things you can do, perhaps quite well." He stroked his chin with bejeweled fingers like plump sausages, eying her up and down once again.

  Avari flushed under his gaze, her hand moving to her sword hilt, but before she could think of a retort, Shay pulled her aside.

  "Avari, you must answer his questions and not agitate him. He can deny the captain docking space if he doesn't cooperate, and he can deny you admittance to the city. And for your own sake, keep your hand away from your sword!"

  Avari answered the rest of his questions, but refused to be anything more than civil. Disappointed, the official delighted in annoying her with petty requests. She finally balked when he ordered her to lay out her small pile of belongings, but after another glare from Shay she gave over her things for inspection. After taking an unseemly amount of time, he announced that her tax totaled five silver and two copper pieces.

  "But that will leave me with only two silver!" she protested.

  "Do you want to enter the city or not?" The smirk on his fat little face was almost more than Avari could bear, but she handed over the fee.