Death's Mistress

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Death's Mistress Page 16

by Terry Goodkind


  Considering how barren the lands had been in their journey from the north, Nicci wondered how often these people saw strangers. When she noticed other roads leading upriver, as well as the fishing boats and the substantial harbor, she realized that they must have contact with other settled areas—just not from the wilderness up the Phantom Coast.

  On the outskirts of town, the road took them past a cemetery on the hillside, where grave markers covered the slopes. Names had been chiseled into the low stone markers, while other graves were marked only by wooden posts with names carved into the wood. These flimsier posts were arranged much too closely to mark individual burial sites. Seeing the wooden posts and stone markers, Bannon seemed very disturbed.

  Nathan ran his fingers down the weathered wood, where the name was all but unreadable. “I assume the two types of markers indicate a class system? The wealthy can afford fine stone markers and a spacious grave, while those less fortunate are simply marked with a post?”

  “Maybe there are no bodies at all because there were no bodies to bury,” Nicci said. “Fishermen lost at sea, for instance.”

  Bannon looked gray. “I think they are memorials for people who are not dead, but are gone.”

  Nathan’s brow furrowed. “Gone? What do you mean by that, my boy?”

  “Maybe they were … taken.” The young man swallowed hard.

  Nicci turned to give him a hard look. “Taken by whom?”

  His voice came out in a whisper. “Slavers, possibly.”

  The idea troubled Nicci, and she led the way at a faster, more determined pace. Slavers had no place in Lord Rahl’s new rule, and Nicci looked forward to putting the matter to rest. One way or another.

  When they reached the outskirts of the town, children playing in the dirt streets noticed the three travelers coming from the unexpected direction and called excitedly for their parents. Stout women worked at their washing, while two older couples sat together mending fishing nets that were stretched across wooden benches. Men and women working in the vegetable patches and farm fields looked up to see the strangers.

  Nathan shook trail dust and sand from his pants and shirt, frowning at himself. “I don’t make a very formidable presence as the roving ambassador for D’Hara.” He tapped the sword in its scabbard at his hip. “But at least my fine blade shows me to be a man of some note.”

  Bannon put his hand on the leather-wrapped hilt of his own sword, but couldn’t seem to think of what to say.

  Nicci cautioned them both. “We won’t be drawing our swords unless there’s a need. We come bearing word that the Old World is now at peace. They will be glad to hear it.”

  A middle-aged woman with brown hair tied in a thick braid raised a hand in welcome. A ten-year-old boy at her side stared at the newcomers as if they were monsters from the sea. “They came from the north!” he said, pointing vigorously. “There’s nothing up to the north.”

  “Welcome to Renda Bay,” said the woman. “You look as if you’ve had a long journey.”

  “We were shipwrecked,” Nicci said.

  “We’ve been walking for days,” Bannon interjected. “We’re glad we found your village.”

  “Renda Bay?” Nathan said. “I’ll mark it on my map.”

  As more people gathered, Nicci assessed the modest homes, wooden common buildings, gardens and flowerbeds. The children did not look shabby, gaunt, or desperate. Much of the activity in the town had to do with cleaning fish in large troughs at wooden tables down by the docks. Iron racks loaded with fish filets hung over smoky kelp fires. Rows of broad basins were lined along the beach under the sun, filled with seawater that would slowly evaporate to leave a residue of valuable salt.

  The villagers peppered them with questions. Nathan and Bannon told disjointed parts of their story, and the noise of conversation swelled around them. Nicci interrupted, “Call a gathering, and we will address everyone at once, so we don’t have to repeat ourselves.”

  They met the town leader, a man named Holden, who was in his late thirties, with rich brown hair marked by a distinctive frosting of white at the temples. They learned that until recently he had owned his own fishing boat before he devoted his days to local administration.

  Holden led them to the town square, where many eager people had already gathered to hear the strangers’ tale. Nicci let Nathan speak, because the wizard was quite comfortable with the sound of his own voice. “I am Nathan Rahl, currently the representative of Lord Richard Rahl of the D’Haran Empire, the man who defeated Emperor Jagang.” He looked at them, as if expecting cheers. “You may have been wondering why you are no longer under the crushing boot heel of the Imperial Order?”

  The villagers’ expressions did not show terror or even awareness. Holden said, “We’ve heard of Jagang, but it’s been three decades or more since we saw troops or any representative from the Imperial Order.”

  Bannon interjected, “We were on a ship that sailed south from Tanimura—the Wavewalker under Captain Eli Corwin—but we were attacked by selka. Hundreds of them, maybe thousands! They killed our crew, and our ship ran aground on the reefs. Only the three of us survived. You’re the first people we’ve seen since.”

  Many listeners stared at them in horror and fascination, while others frowned with clear skepticism, as if they expected castaways to embellish their stories.

  Nicci interrupted, “The important news we bring you is that Lord Rahl has overthrown the evil tyrants, and that you are all free. You need not fear oppression, slavery, or tyranny. As he consolidates his empire, Lord Rahl is gathering emissaries so that all may decide a common set of laws to which everyone must agree. This will be a golden age for human history.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “And you are part of it.”

  Nathan brightened as he looked out at the villagers. “You must have maps. You must know the area. Choose several of your best people to travel north, make your way up to the New World, the heart of D’Hara and the People’s Palace, so you can join Lord Rahl. He’ll provide the protection and support your village needs. Now is a very important time for the building of the new empire.”

  Holden had a habit of nodding sincerely, demonstrating that he listened to people when they expressed their concerns, but he didn’t appear convinced. “That is heartening news, and I am proud to hear what your Lord Rahl has accomplished.” He gestured to the gathered audience. “Our people here trade with villages upriver and larger cities to the south, but we have barely heard of D’Hara or Tanimura. It’s grand for you to say that we are free of tyranny and slavery … but has everyone who would threaten us also heard this news?”

  “They will,” Nicci said.

  He spread his hands, sounding perfectly reasonable. “Your Lord Rahl is too far away to have any real effect in our lives. How could any D’Haran help us from the other side of the world? We are on our own here … against whatever might prey on us.”

  “He will be able to protect you,” Nicci said. She knew well enough not to underestimate Richard.

  Holden gave them a conciliatory smile and did not argue further. “Still, it is good to know, and you are welcome in Renda Bay. We will help you as we can, since you seem to have lost everything.”

  “We could use a good meal,” Nathan said. “And new clothes.” He pulled up his frayed sleeve. “Do you have a tailor? I require several new outfits.”

  “We would also appreciate supplies and provisions,” Nicci said, “before we continue our journey. We are looking for a place called Kol Adair.”

  The people didn’t immediately show any sign of recognition, but they offered to help in any way possible. As conversation buzzed in the square, Holden declared, “We’ll have a welcoming dinner tonight. Because of the season, our boats just brought in a fine catch of redfins. We can roast enough for a banquet.”

  Nathan smiled. “We appreciate your hospitality, and we would dearly enjoy a good meal. Now, from whom might I request a new shirt?”

  * * *

  That
night, the villagers set up long plank tables in an open festival area just above the docks in the harbor. A warm, cheery glow came from the windows of the village dwellings, and tall torches surrounded the gathering. Candle pots flickered along the wooden bridge that crossed the narrow river.

  As dusk descended, people came for the welcome feast. Fat redfin fish, seasoned with sea salt and pungent herbs, roasted over coals in fire pits. The meal was accompanied with tubers boiled in large cauldrons, and a salad made of bitter flowers.

  Nicci found the redfin to be a dark, meaty fish with a strong flavor. Bannon had a second helping as he talked with his companions at the long table. To their great fascination, he described the many dishes that could be made with cabbage.

  Nathan had obtained a new shirt, a gray homespun tunic that laced up the front. The old wizard found the color unflattering, but he agreed that it was far superior to the remnants of his once fine clothes. “Thank you so much, my dear Jann,” he said to a short, dark-haired woman with plain features but pretty eyes. She was one of the town’s seamstresses who spun her own cloth and made garments for her family and others.

  “My last tailors in Tanimura had numerous patterns and styles to choose from, countless grades of fabric, endless cuts.” Nathan heaved a sigh. “But they weren’t nearly as pretty or as kind as you.”

  Jann giggled. “You should thank my husband. That shirt was supposed to be for Phillip.” A broad-shouldered older man sat next to her. Nearly as tall as Nathan, he had tightly curled dark hair and a rugged face. When Nathan asked him about the scar across his nose, he explained that a fishhook had once cut him down to the cartilage when a line had snapped.

  “I have plenty of shirts, and you obviously need that one more than I,” said Phillip. “And now I can boast that the ambassador for Lord Rahl wears clothes made by my wife.” His big callused hand clasped Jann’s much more delicate hand. He savored another bite of redfin. “It’s good to feast on fish I didn’t have to bring in myself. Those days are over for me.”

  Jann explained, “Phillip is a successful fisherman, but he prefers to be a boat builder. We’ve just set up a new dry dock, and he’ll be repairing fishing vessels and building a new one to sell.”

  Phillip smiled proudly. “A new one that I plan to name the Lady Jann.”

  “That is sure to increase the asking price,” said Nathan.

  Town leader Holden stood up in the middle of the meal, and the dinner chatter died down. “We welcome our visitors from far-off lands. We give what we can and hope that the Sea Mother remembers our kindness to strangers.”

  While the villagers cheered and toasted, Nicci heard some of the villagers muttering, as if they thought the Sea Mother had let them down many times in the past. She realized that Renda Bay had no armed guards, no strong military presence, no defenses whatsoever. Nicci knew that if one relied on ethereal deities to solve problems, then those problems usually remained unsolved.

  Suddenly, several villagers stood up from the plank tables, gesturing toward the dark harbor. A bright warning fire sprang from the watchtower on the southern point of the breakwater. Someone threw a torch into a pile of dry wood, which swelled into a blazing beacon. When Holden saw the fire, his face fell into an expression of dread.

  Looking out into the harbor, Nicci could see the ominous silhouettes of four large, dark ships that closed in on the bay with unnatural speed.

  Holden looked at Nicci with a sick expression. “Where is your Lord Rahl’s protection now?”

  Nicci straightened. “I’m here.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Villagers bolted in panic from the outside festival area. Some ran to their homes to seize knives, clubs, bows, and anything else they could use as a weapon. Nathan and Bannon both drew their swords and stood together next to the plank feasting tables, although the young man’s expression was far different from what Nicci had seen on his face when he fought the selka. This time, he looked disgusted as well as terrified.

  The massive dark ships slid forward swiftly even though the night was without breezes. Each vessel had one mast with a single broad sail dyed a deep blue, so as to be invisible at night.

  Nicci heard splashing sounds and the gruff shouts of men. Peering intensely into the night, she enhanced her vision with an obscure distance spell, which let her see that the four invading ships were propelled by long lines of oars. The oars cut into the water like axe blades and swept back to push the vessel forward, then lifted into the air dripping moonlight, and stabbed the water again.

  Bannon’s voice cracked. “Norukai slavers!”

  “Norukai slavers,” Holden echoed, then added his own shout. “Prepare to defend yourselves! It’s another raid.”

  “What is it, my boy?” Nathan asked. “Who are they?”

  “Nightmares.”

  The slaver ships came in fast, crushing a small fishing boat as they ground up against the Renda Bay piers. A chorus of guttural, challenging shouts came from the longboats. With a chill, Nicci saw that each of the four curved prows sported the monstrous carving of a sea serpent, and she recognized the design from the crumbling wreck they had found in the sheltered cove on their first night ashore.

  The four raider ships careened like rampaging bulls into the harbor. Bright orange streaks soared into the sky from the longboat decks, arced downward, and scattered upon the village, striking streets, rooftops, and unfortunate townspeople. Several fire arrows stuck into the lapped roofs of the houses and set the buildings on fire.

  Water crews raced with buckets to stop the conflagration from spreading, while the rest of the defenders converged toward the docks, carrying whatever weapons they had. But even at a glance, Nicci could see that the villagers could never drive off such an aggressive raid. By her guess, the four Norukai ships held nearly three hundred warriors. She turned to Nathan. “It is up to us to fight them.”

  He raised his sword. “My thoughts exactly, Sorceress.”

  Releasing magic, Nicci ignited a bright fireball in her hand and tossed it into the air, where it expanded, growing more diffuse until it exploded high overhead like a wash of chain lightning. The glow illuminated the big serpent ships and the raiders boiling off the decks. The nearest two vessels crashed against the piers and fastened with iron hooks and heavy planks, while the raiders from the outer two vessels dropped smaller boats into the water and rowed toward the shore.

  Jann and her husband Phillip accompanied Nathan as they braced themselves for the attack. Jann cried, “Spirits save us!”

  “I will save you,” Nicci said.

  The wizard turned to the retired fisherman. “Are your people at war with the Norukai? Why do they attack Renda Bay?”

  “We are prey to them,” said Phillip, his face haggard. “Normally, they dart in with a single boat, snatch five to ten victims, and flee into the night. But this … this is a full invasion.”

  “Then we arrived just in time,” Nicci said.

  Norukai warriors thundered across the docks, rushing to the village, while others jumped out of landing boats and sloshed up from the shallow water to shore, carrying clubs, ropes, and nets.

  The sorcerous illumination dissipated overhead, but Nicci’s magic swelled. She stretched her mind in one direction, tapping into Additive Magic and the energy there, while she also drew upon Subtractive Magic. Combining both, she conjured jagged lashes of black lightning, which she whipped against the first three invaders who reached the end of the docks. Her lightning ripped their broad chests into smoking wreckage, and the burly men collapsed into a heap of bones.

  Despite this unexpected attack, the slavers showed no hint of fear or even caution. They charged forward, sneering at her lightning, arrogant in their invincibility. A team of four left their landing boats and waded to the beach.

  Nicci killed the next wave of them as well.

  The Norukai were squat men with disproportionately broad shoulders, shaved heads, and bare arms, and they wore vests of scaled armor made of some
reptile skin. Most horrific, their cheeks had been slit from the corners of their lips back to the hinge of the jaw, then sewn up again, as if to widen their mouths like a snake’s. Now, as they roared their fearsome battle call, their jaws opened wide, as if they were vipers about to strike. Only a few Norukai carried swords or spears, while the rest obviously expected to subdue and capture their victims, not to kill. They meant to harvest the people of Renda Bay.

  A second rain of flaming arrows launched from the deck of a Norukai ship, pelting the village. By now several healthy fires were spreading among the wooden buildings, and when Nicci saw a blaze jump from one rooftop to the next, she flung out her hand and summoned her control of air and wind. Her directed blast swept the flames away, and as she pulled it back, she sucked away all the oxygen and extinguished the fire.

  Nathan looked at her and groaned. “I can no longer help you in that way,” he said, gripping his sword. “But I will do my part, even without magic.” He ran beside Bannon, both of them holding their blades high as the muscular slavers charged ashore. As he prepared to fight, the young man had a strange look in his eyes—though not of fear. He seemed obsessed.

  The villagers of Renda Bay had their own swords and spears, but did not seem skilled in their use. Holden shouted orders and ran bravely to meet the surge of attackers, although he had no tactical plan.

  Nicci watched the fourth raider ship grind up against another dock, splintering wood as the invaders shouted. She did not intend to let them make it to shore. No longer crippled by poison, her command of magic was at its peak strength, and she could do more than summon wind or lightning.

  She called forth a large roiling ball of wizard’s fire, a molten sphere that she hurled at the prow of the ship just as the Norukai lashed up against the damaged pier. The magical blaze incinerated the carved serpent figurehead and billowed back over the bow. Flames spilled across the deck and ignited fifteen of the armored slavers. They shrieked as the skin boiled off their bones, and their ugly, slitted mouths yawned open in a scream so wide their jaws cracked.

 

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