“There’s a lip here I can get my fingers behind. Help me pull,” his friend gasped, struggling to hold on.
Together they managed to open the door, despite the groaning of the pivots, until a barely discernible click was heard. The putrid reek of dead air forced them back, inadvertently releasing their hold on the door. It remained locked open.
Covering his mouth and nose with a cloth, Rafael cautiously peered inside, holding the lantern at arm’s length. “It must use a counterweight to hold the door shut, and there is a latch here that probably unlocks it. Just to be sure we can open it from the inside; I’ll let it close and then try to open it again.”
He released the lever, and the door swung closed much faster than it opened. Soon it opened again, Rafael pushing from the inside until it locked.
“What now, Mathias? The smell isn’t as bad as it was, but I’m afraid of what we’ll find.”
The Prince joined his friend inside the passage and released the door. “Unless I know where this exits the Palace, it is of no use to me. Come on.”
They had only walked a short distance when Rafael stopped to stare at his friend’s back, the meaning of his words now clear. “You never intended to use this as an escape, did you? Who are you planning to smuggle into the Palace, Mathias?”
The Prince hesitated, and then motioned his friend forward. Ignoring the question, he pointed ahead with his lantern. Lying alongside the wall was a skeleton, and just past it, another door. Sharing a look, they bent down for a closer examination.
“Well, whoever it was, they died a long time ago,” Rafael observed. “The clothing has turned to dust, and look, a sword but no sign of armor.”
“Rafael, that is the blade of a royal.”
“Unless he stole it.”
“A mystery to solve another day.” Standing, Mathias handed his lantern to Rafael. “Douse the lanterns. I don’t want their light to draw anyone’s attention.”
He pushed against the door, but there was no movement. Rafael felt his way next to his friend, and on the count of three they pushed as hard as they could. The door jerked, moved several inches and stopped. It was jammed.
The Prince laid his hand on Rafael’s shoulder. “I think we just solved part of the mystery.”
***
With the wind and waves having fled the entangled ships, a deathly silence remained, interrupted only by the occasional moan of an injured sailor. Both Gerrad’s crew and the pirates held their collective breaths, afraid to draw Sofia’s attention. What they had just witnessed was only whispered among those who were familiar with history. What else was she capable of?
Sofia reached out to lift Floanne’s bowed head so she could look her in the eye. “Never again will you be a servant of another. You now have a new destiny.”
The Princess marshaled her human emotions, yet a rebellious tear still managed to escape the corner of her eye. Facing the still smiling Lieutenant, she held out both arms. Ronald captured her hands in his.
“What can I say to you, my dear friend? I owe you my life. Your words were like a light to lead me out of the darkness. I am not my father, but I had to finally accept he is a part of me.”
“I am happy for you, Sofia. Sometimes we look to others for the truth that lies inside us.” He squeezed her hands. “Now, you better address the men so they can breathe again.”
She returned the gesture and smiled. “Still giving orders, Lieutenant?”
He shrugged his shoulders, and she released his hands to turn to the men. “Gather the wounded here and begin treating their injuries until I return,” she ordered, pointing to the deck. Heading for what was left of the ship’s rail, she beckoned to Captain Gerrad. “Miles, if you would join me.”
Clearing the distance between the ships easily, Sofia led the way to where Rogosh stood, still clutching a sword in each hand. A black-robed figure stood motionless beside him.
“Lower your hood in the presence of a Deluti, sorcerer.”
Satisfied with his compliance and the resignation she saw in his eyes, she turned to the pirate and pointed at his left hand. The fingers convulsed and began to shrivel, useless, dropping the sword.
“Balance has now been restored. How you conduct yourself from now on is between you and your brother. Captain Gerrad and his ship are now under the protection of the Deluti. Any attack on him will be seen as an attack on us and will be dealt with accordingly. War is on the horizon, Rogosh, and you will have to choose a side. Choose wisely.”
“What of my crew?”
“They will return once all have been healed sufficiently to survive their injuries.”
Miles led his brother away, both ignoring the sword left lying on the deck. Alone with the sorcerer, Sofia asked. “What is your name?”
“Thomas, Your Highness.”
She studied him for a moment before reaching out with her new awareness and carefully untangled the life bond linking him with his master, revolted. “Of all the Dark Lord’s accomplishments, the life thread is the most foul. Thomas, you are now free to live your life as you wish. If you decide to return to Scorpious, we will meet again, and I will not hesitate to kill you as I have the others.”
He closed his eyes, shivered, and then stared at her in wonder. “The link is truly gone. I have never felt freedom such as this. Thank you, Princess. In return, I must warn you, Scorpious is now obsessed with your capture. Second only to his hatred of the non-humans is his desire for a female Deluti at his side.”
“He is not the first man to want me by his side. I doubt he will be any luckier.”
Sofia returned to their ship where she went down the line, healing each man only enough to ensure their survival. The pirates pried loose their grappling hooks and jumped the expanding distance between the rails. As the ships slowly drifted apart, the Captain and Bernard, who had a bandage wrapped around his head, inspected the damage and set the crew to repair what they could.
The Princess waited outside the amidships cabin and watched the sorcerer out of the corner of her eye. He had requested permission and jumped onboard at the last minute, clutching a small travel bag. Thomas explained he had family in Marlinor and wished to visit them. Even though she had released him from the Scarred Mage’s control, it would be a long time before she would fully trust any sorcerer.
Miles appeared from below decks, looked up at the sky, and then approached her. “Princess, what repairs can be done be complete soon. One of the masts is cracked so we no have full sails. But without wind, we no be going anywhere.”
Closing her eyes, she sent feelers out into the sky searching for the wind that had fled along with her anger. Opening her eyes as a breath of air teased the ends of her hair, Sofia smiled at him. “Raise your sails, Captain. You have your wind.”
As she turned away to enter the cabin, he asked. “My brother. Will he ever regain the use of his hand?”
She paused, “Will you, Miles?” and shut the door behind her.
Once inside, Sofia found Ronald trying to comfort a distraught Floanne who immediately appealed to her former mistress.
“What am I to do if I can no longer be a maidservant? I have no other skills.”
The Princess sat opposite them and sighed. “You are destined for a position much higher than a servant, Floanne. I will try to share the memories revealed to me by the amulet.”
She paused, waiting for the sound of sails being rigged to quiet. The ship’s deck tilted as the approaching wind stretched tight the expanse of canvas and propelled them toward their destination. Eyelids fluttering, Sofia’s voice took on the cadence of a master story-teller.
“During the reign of Harold d’Tomorin, King of Marlinor, one of the Deluti Council of Five resided in the Capital City. Many were against the King’s involvement in the Deluti War, and the Dark Lord successfully planted agents throughout the city and Palace.
Unable to continue protecting both the King and herself, the ancient Deluti Councilor transferred her spirit into her am
ulet and entrusted it to the King’s son and daughter. The Prince, acting as decoy, drew the enemy agents away into the Palace while the Deluti’s servants smuggled the Princess onto a ship bound for Dahlian. Deluti spirits guided her to the Royal Palace where they charged her and future generations with the task of protecting the amulet.”
Sofia’s eyes refocused and she sat next to Floanne, who stared wide eyed with her mouth agape. Taking her former servant’s hand, the Princess willed the truth to fill the emptiness in Floanne’s heart.
“This is the story your grandmother planned to pass on to you. The amulet no longer needs protecting. Your family’s charge has ended. You are descended from a Marlinor royal family and equal to any princess.”
Unable to speak, Floanne glanced first at Ronald, then Sofia, and back to the Lieutenant, who smiled and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
“I would believe her if I were you. You know how she gets when anyone disagrees with her.”
Floanne managed a weak smile when Sofia stuck her tongue out at him. In a voice filled with wonder, she whispered, “I may be a Princess?”
Sofia slumped back against the wall, overwhelmed herself by the events of the day. “Not yet, but I have a feeling the Deluti spirits are not done with you.”
They arrived late that night at the anchorage in the Bay of Salia, and then proceeded into port early the next morning. Many eyes were upon them as the ship slowly drifted past. No one challenged Captain Gerrad’s right to moor at the head of the pier. As is normally the case with sailors, rumors abounded on the Captain’s true identity, and the nature of his business.
The fact the ship displayed signs of severe battle damage, and had survived a possible pirate attack only added to the mystery. The dockside taverns would be abuzz with rumor and speculations tonight.
Miles told the Princess he didn’t plan on returning to Dahlian anytime soon, and would be here if she needed him. After taking their leave from the Captain, they stood on the pier not sure what to do next. A young boy ran up and greeted them.
“Welcome to New Bratan. If you be needin’ a guide in da city, Poppie be da man for you. I knows alla best places to be eatin’ and sleepin’. Everyone knows Poppie and Poppie knows everyone.”
Sofia shared a look with Ronald. Some things never change, no matter where you are. She nodded in agreement. There was something familiar about this little man, and she planned to find out what.
Ronald waved the boy onward. “Lead on, Poppie. First order of business is someplace to take a hot bath, and then eat.”
“Follow Poppie. Poppie knows just da place!”
Chapter Nineteen ~ Emma’s Fear
Chaska shuffled alongside the man from Argo, the chains around his ankles long enough for a normal stride, but too heavy to try and run. He glanced at his large, quiet companion, confused. A slave newly arrived at his master’s fortress would have been beaten by now. This man was neither friendly nor abusive. Apparently, he was only part of a business transaction, and the man was just doing his job.
The apprentice sorcerer relaxed enough in the presence of the slave trader to take in the unfamiliar world spread out before him. Even this close to the sea, the hot, dry air burned his throat. A person certainly wouldn’t survive for long in this country without water. Several buildings sported clumps of flowering bushes, but nothing tall enough to be considered a tree.
The rainbow of color adorning the people in the street, some in combinations that hurt the eye, did nothing to offset the drab buildings. The billowy, loose-fitting clothing must be cooler than the wool and leather he wore. No one appeared to sweat the way he did, so hopefully he would be given something similar.
They reached the center of the city and a large open market with the first stone building he’d seen so far. Voices proclaiming the uniqueness of their wares echoed off of the surrounding walls with an undertone of spirited banter over prices. The spicy aroma of cheap meat pies struggled to overcome the pungent odor from the livestock pens.
Senses reeling, Chaska was led past the market and into the large stone building. Once inside, the temperature dropped significantly, and as his eyes adjusted to the dim light, a row of iron-barred cells appeared along the back wall. One of those would be his temporary home until the Shadhuin buyer arrived.
Locking the door to Chaska’s cell, the trader pointed to a jug of water sitting on a shelf by a narrow cot. “Drink much, stay strong. I bring food.”
He returned shortly carrying a steaming bowl full of stew that smelled similar to the meat pies outside, and another jug of water. The stew was indeed spicy, but good, and the water, cool and refreshing. Chaska lay on the cot to wait, surprised at how comfortable it was, and soon fell asleep. None of this was what he had expected.
He awoke after a short nap feeling refreshed, and drank water as instructed. The silence was profound, and such a departure from what he was used to. The unending competition with his fellow apprentices, and the constant threat of violence had consumed his life for as long as he could remember. Unbeknownst to him, the Scarred Mage had instructed the slave trader to ensure Chaska was the only slave available to the Shadhuin when they arrived.
The power whispered to him from across the barrier of the shackles and forced him to his feet, pacing, unable to answer its call. In desperation, his thoughts raced down paths he’d never dared to tread before. What would become of his life should he lose the power forever? The Dark Lord certainly would no longer have any use for him other than as a true slave. His only other passion was caring for the animals kept in the fortress. He’d always felt a kind of peace while in their presence.
At some point, the trader returned with more food and a jug of water. The gloom surrounding Chaska’s cell never changed and made it difficult to determine the time of day. Apparently, it was time for the evening meal. He thanked the man and asked, “How long must I stay here?”
The trader nodded in response to his word of thanks and answered. “Not long. Maybe tomorrow.”
Completely alone for the first time, Chaska spent the remaining hours immersed in thought. Normally he would have taken the time to practice his spell-casting, but that was denied him for now. Instead, he thought about the things he had seen, and compared them to what he had been told. What if some of those were untrue? If this Navon was as evil as his master claimed, how would he befriend him? Would the Deluti kill him out of hand after learning what he was?
In the morning, a thoughtful, yet apprehensive sorcerer’s apprentice arose to meet the brightly dressed Shadhuin Horse Lord who approached his cell.
The dark-skinned elder studied Chaska’s face closely before speaking. “You horse, care for?”
The words were broken, but the young man thought he understood and answered simply. “Yes.”
A quick conversation ensued between the elder and trader until agreement was reached. Chaska was released from the cell and followed the Shadhuin outside to a small wagon. He stumbled as if the heat and bright sunlight had struck him a physical blow.
The elder retrieved a length of cloth from under the seat, deftly wrapped it around the apprentice’s head, and helped him into the back of the wagon.
Chaska marveled at how much protection the simple length of cloth provided. He was cooler and the sun didn’t glare as much as before. The road was smooth, and he might have enjoyed the fast pace if it wasn’t for the weight dragging on his ankles and wrists. The memory of riding in a similar wagon as a small child, along with others his age, made him frown. He’d always known he had been abducted, but the knowledge never bothered him until now. Surviving in the Scarred Mage’s fortress left little room for past memories.
They arrived at the Shadhuin city where the elder stopped the wagon just outside the southern entrance. An elderly woman shuffled out to meet them. She produced a small key, unlocked the shackles, and motioned for Chaska to climb out. He picked up the chains, thinking they might be too heavy for her to lift, and was amazed at their light w
eight. Interesting. The heaviness was only an illusion fueled by his own power. He placed them under the seat as directed and followed her inside.
She led him to a room filled with shelves of drab clothing, and began assembling an assortment of shirts and pants.
“They not as pretty as Shadhuin wear, but why wear and get dirty every day? Come in evening for clean and leave dirty in baskets.”
Leaving there with his arms full, she showed him the common dining area and then took him up to the third floor. A large room filled with bunks along each wall, some with a small chest at the bottom, occupied the entire floor.
“Some beds not used, pick one. Clean yourself and change clothes in washroom at back, then join others for the mid-day meal. Someone will come for you after.”
She turned to leave and then turned back. “What your name?”
“Chaska.”
“Means ‘man of strength’. You need it.”
“Why?”
She pinned him with her eyes. “The man you work with. They say he demon.”
***
Sebastian turned from the window at the sound of his door opening. Emma stood there for a moment, breathing heavily, and then purposefully grabbed her travel bag from the end of the bed. The hint of tears on her cheeks contrasted with her actions as she began stuffing items inside the bag.
“Pack your things, Sebastian. We’re leaving.”
“Why?”
“You delivered the warning to the King like the Ancient One commanded and now we’re done. Let the humans deal with their own problems now.”
The ogre reached out and gently turned his partner to face him. “I not leaving be, little one. Evil here.”
She stared up at him, tears beginning to form once again. “But… but, they’re going to kill you!” she cried, wrapped her arms around him, and then buried her face in his chest, sobbing.
The Pain of Compassion Page 19
