“I can’t make Manse yet,” she continued with a frown, “or Cape, which is farther, but I can get to Colchester,” she finally added with just a hint of pride.
The Prince smiled at her. “That’s very good,” he complimented. “Tomorrow, when we’re finally out of the Gap, I’ll want you hunting the Knights just in case. I don’t want to get caught in the open. I need you to contact Captain Tanner, tonight if you are up to it?”
Laynee nodded then shivered. She approached the Prince and looked more closely at the wound in his side. The doctor was finished stitching and was beginning to clean the area. Laynee reached out and took the wet rag from her then began to clean the Prince’s wound with soft gentle strokes.
“Captain Tanner and Zebo will be out of Manse,” she said quietly. “They should be easy to reach,” she added confidently then slowly looked up at the Prince who was looking down at her with those dark, dreamy eyes of his.
ǂ
de Baard woke confused and thirsty, gazing up at the canvas ceiling of the tent. At first she did not know why she was here, in bed, when it was clearly daylight, but then she made a move to rise. Pain exploded through her entire body and she dropped back on the cot, dizzy and panting. When the stars finally faded from her vision and her breathing slowed to normal she shifted her head slightly, again pain reared up at her like a guard dog on an intruder and she was still. But she managed to move her head just enough to see that she was not alone. She was in the main medical tent and in the bunk next to her was a young man who was smiling at her.
“Doc, she’s awake,” the young man said happily. “We weren’t sure you’d make it,” he added, then pointed down at his foot. de Baard only shifted her eyes to follow his movement.
“Busted my leg,” he informed her as Van Valencia came into her field of view.
“Hello Cyndar,” the young Deutzani said looking down at her. “Doc Linkler will be around shortly. Are you thirsty?”
de Baard shook her head ever so slightly and pain again bloomed in the garden of her mind, like a weed. Her eyes watered as Van turned away. He returned quickly with a bowl and a clean rag.
“Your jaw was dislocated,” Van explained as he added a light brown powder to the water in the bowl. He mixed it up until it was dissolved. “For the pain,” he informed her.
“And you got thirty-three stitches across your chest,” said the young man in the next bunk, ignoring the sharp look he was getting from Van, “and another twelve in your chin.”
“Hush,” Van snapped then turned back to de Baard. “Both of those wounds will heal nicely, the wound below your left shoulder was deep and cut through a lot of muscle. It may be a while before you get full use of your arm back.”
“But the doc said…”
“Henry you better shut your mouth or I’ll dislocate your jaw,” Van yelled at him. Henry’s eyes went wide and he slouched back angrily.
“Fine!” he said. Van ignored him.
He dipped the rag in the water and held it up to de Baard’s mouth and squeezed a bit of water between her lips. Embarrassing as her situation was, the water was liquid paradise, but when she swallowed the pain once again threatened to overwhelm her. Her mouth felt as if someone tried to tear her tongue out by the roots. If she wasn’t so thirsty she would have stopped trying to swallow, the pain was so bad, but she continued, hoping that eventually the medicine Van was giving her would ease her suffering.
After a few minutes Van held up the empty bowl and smiled at her but it was not an emotion she shared and it must have shown in her eyes because Van stood and patted her leg softly.
“All you need is rest,” he said and left her to her thoughts.
de Baard stared blankly at the ceiling for several minutes, anger welling up inside. Sinis tried to kill her! And when they learned of their failure they would try again.
‘Well two can play that game,’ Cyndar thought to herself. ‘Once the bitch is dead I think I’ll pay a little visit to Nacht.’ As she plotted her revenge and her future she did not even realize that Gwaynn’s death was no longer on her agenda. Oh, she would still kill the Fultan whore who stole his heart, but then her business resided on Sinis Island. If she survived that trial and if Gwaynn survived his little tiff with the High King then…who knew? Anything could happen.
But first, she must regain her strength. Slowly, as if she was trying to catch a fly with her hand, she moved her left arm up and gingerly felt her face. It was heavily bandaged, rows of tight cotton wrapped around the bridge of her nose. They skipped her nostrils and mouth and then continued on around her chin. Additional bandages wrapped around the top of her head holding her jaw snuggly in place.
She sighed. And tentatively moved her arm down and felt where the bastard’s kali cut into her chest but again all she felt were tight bandages. She rested her arm on her midriff. She made one small attempt to move her right arm, but the pain, which was hiding close by, reared up once more and bit her. So she went still. She lay there wondering how long it would take her to get back on her feet until twenty minutes later she was sleeping fitfully.
V
“Above all he must like you,” General Clark na Gall said as the carriage rounded a corner and entered the palace grounds. He was here without his wife’s blessing for two reasons; the first was that he sympathized with the plight of the Massi people and second he had a growing hunch that when the High King succeeded in subduing his current targets he would soon turn eyes on King Marc and the Cassinni. Thus far his country had adamantly refused to go to war, despite King Marc’s great loyalty to the High King. King Marc was cautious to a fault, and though timid he had a stubborn streak. He would remain neutral if he could, but General na Gall felt that taking such a position in the face of mounting pressure from the High King was putting the Cassinni in a very dangerous position. He feared for his country and felt they would need allies very soon. If anyone asked, this was the reason he would give for bringing the Massi General, but the true force behind his decision was that he could deny his daughter nothing.
Bock frowned. “Like me?” He asked, as the carriage bumped along the main road to the palace. He was sitting next to Jess, facing her father whom was across from them. He tried to concentrate on what the old general was saying but every now and then na Gall’s leg would be bump electrically into his, innocently caused by the jostling carriage.
Clark nodded. “King Marc is a simple man, with simple tastes and simple reasons for his decisions. But he is also stubborn. If he takes a dislike to you, no amount of persuasion from his advisors will change his mind.”
“Advisors,” Bock echoed flatly.
“Yes, the King has a host of advisors. I’m one of them.”
“You’re his favorite,” Jess said without any attempt to hide the pride in her voice.
Clark looked at his daughter and smiled. “Perhaps…but there are many and Marc has a way of only hearing those who agree with him.”
Bock frowned again as the carriage pulled to a stop. “Well if he’s timid and loyal to the High King, he won’t like what I have to say.”
The Cassinni General nodded. “Your job will be challenging indeed. I suggest you go slowly…try to charm him before you request any action.”
Bock flashed a look of concern at Jess na Gall, but she just smiled at him. “You’re charming,” she said in support, her eyes dancing with Lonogan’s and it was General na Gall’s turn to frown slightly.
Bock stepped from the carriage, then turned and took Jess’ hand and helped her down the step. Her father followed, now paying very close attention to the interaction between the two.
‘My daughter has a lover,’ he thought but was not quite correct, for the two had as yet only exchanged a few kisses. Nevertheless the heat between the two young people was growing and at the moment was trying to burn a hole in Clark na Gall’s heart. But from the beginning of time, a daughter’s passion was a father’s lament.
“General!” A voice exclaimed from the t
op of a wide stone staircase. Bock turned and saw a short balding man dressed in a dark navy blue uniform. He moved spryly down the stairs of the palace toward them. “Traveler na Gall,” he added and stopped a step above Jess and gave her a quick kiss on each of her cheeks.
“Lovelier than ever,” he said. “I see Miranda in the woman before me.”
“Thank the stars,” Clark said and shook the smaller man’s hand.
“Admiral Seymour, may I introduce General Lonogan Bock of the Massi.”
The Admiral turned, still a few steps above the Massi General and studied Bock for a moment eye to eye, then held out his hand.
“A pleasure,” the Admiral said. “I must say we were surprised by the timing of your visit.”
Bock smiled slightly. ‘The Cassinni must have spies…or they’re kept very well informed by the High King.’ Neither thought was very comforting.
“How so?” he asked, hoping to confirm his suspicions.
The Admiral just looked at him and chuckled. “Ah yes. We mustn’t keep the King waiting. He is anxious to see you all.” And with that, the little Admiral turned and raced up the stairs with seemingly boundless energy. The three followed behind at a much more dignified pace. As they did so, Clark na Gall noticed that Jess immediately turned to Lonogan for support, entwining her arm lightly in his as they climbed the massive staircase. Her strength was just beginning to return to normal. It hurt him slightly that she would turn to another for support when he was so close by her side, but the fact that the Massi General appeared to be ever attentive and willing, cushioned the blow somewhat.
‘Old fool,’ he thought to himself as he climbed behind the young couple, ‘she’s not a young girl anymore. She’s beautiful, probably had scores of lovers…’ General Clark shook the unwanted thought away, but it lingered, like wine gone bad, leaving a nasty aftertaste in his mouth.
Admiral Seymour led them quickly through the entrance hall of the palace and straight back into a wide hallway. The dark mahogany walls were lined with hundreds of paintings depicting Cassinni royalty of old, all in gilded frames. Bock glanced at a few of the portraits as they walked by, but was continually distracted by the Admiral who, from his place in front, would every so often look back at them as if checking to be sure that they were still following. The little man reminded Lonogan of an excited dog out for a walk that would run ahead and then return, then run ahead and return, over and over again. Luckily they reached their destination quickly and the Admiral guided them into a large receiving room. Inside were perhaps a score of people, though a half dozen of these were musicians and there were also three…no four acrobatic tumblers present as well. The Admiral led them over to a group of men attempting to teach another how to walk on his hands.
“M’lord Marc,” the Admiral said over the music which stopped abruptly. “May I introduce…”
“Traveler na Gall!” The King said from his upside down position. The two men who were holding his feet for balance immediately released him and he sprang upright quickly. His face was red from being inverted but he smiled widely and strode quickly to Jess. He embraced her tightly and kissed her on each cheek as if they were long lost friends. It was true they’d met on several occasions, but the greeting was unexpected in any event.
“You’ve been away from your homeland too long,” King Marc said, clearly prizing the fact that the Traveler was Cassinni.
Jess smiled at him and patted his hand. “It would be a danger to our people if I was to visit Cassinni too often or for too long,” she explained, watching the King’s face darken as if a cloud suddenly drifted in front of his mind’s eye.
“General na Gall!” The King exclaimed and at once the thought cloud drifted away. “Can you walk on your hands?”
The General laughed. “No…maybe at one time when I was much younger. Your Highness…this is General Lonogan Bock of the Massi.”
The reigning monarch of Cassinni smiled widely at Lonogan, then his brows furrowed slightly but quick as a flash he was smiling widely again. Lonogan smiled back and studied the King before him. Marc was young and tall. He wore his hair very long and loose and it hung in brown waves over his broad shoulders. But it was the King’s face that truly defined the man. It was a handsome face, strong and open, without a hint of deviousness.
“General!” King Marc said happily, pumping Bock’s hand up and down in a rapid shake. “Can you walk on your hands?”
Lonogan smiled back, amused. “Well I…”
“M’lord,” an elderly woman said from behind the Cassinni king. She moved forward, looking slightly embarrassed. Lonogan saw that she was a handsome woman, though moving rapidly toward old age. Her hair was long and gray, with only a few hints of black still remaining. Her skin was tan and leathery, creating an interesting backdrop for her luminous blue eyes. “I’m sure the Massi General is here on serious business.”
King Marc frowned. “I sincerely apologize, General Bock…”
“Not at all,” Lonogan interrupted, “and yes I can walk on my hands, but I have not done so in many years. I may be a little out of practice.” And with that he bent over and flipped himself up onto his hands, his feet hanging only for a moment before he dropped back down. But without hesitating he pushed himself back up, hung for a moment and then started walking off. He made it only about six feet before losing his balance once more and his feet dropped back to the ground. This time, however, he stood up surprised by the encouraging applause he was getting from the King…and Jess na Gall, who beamed at him. General na Gall was also clapping. He nodding and mouthed ‘well done’ silently behind the King and his closest advisors. The elderly woman who’d spoken up was frowning directly behind the King, but she said nothing more.
“Excellent…excellent,” the King said. “How did you learn?” He asked, then whistled and bent at the waist to welcome a small, hairy runt of a dog, who leaped into the King’s arms. Marc cuddled the beast and stroked it absently before turning once again to Lonogan.
“As a boy,” Lonogan began, taking an instant liking to the Cassinni King, “a traveling show came through my town. They were amazing, and of course as a boy my dream was to join such a show myself someday. I practiced tumbling, juggling and walking on my hands for weeks on end…”
“You can juggle?” Marc asked, looking thoroughly impressed.
Lonogan nodded. “Though again, it has been some time since I’ve practiced.”
“I wanted to join a show,” the King said simply, a look of whimsy on his face. “But I’m King…and a King cannot be part of a traveling show.”
Lonogan frowned with him. “No, I guess not, and neither can a General…but that doesn’t mean we can’t practice in our free time.”
The King thought about this for a moment and then smiled. “That’s exactly right,” he said and then dropped the dog gently to the ground and clapped Lonogan on the arm.
“Perhaps we should ask why the Massi General has come to call on us,” the elderly woman hinted from behind then she reached out a hand to Lonogan.
“I’m Admiral Criswell…Natalie,” she said introducing herself, and then added. “Retired.”
“My pleasure,” Bock said shaking her hand, then followed along behind the King, who led them all to a large table where they each took a chair. “And I’m here,” he began after taking his seat and turning his attention back to the King, “to seek the aid of the Cassinni.”
The King smiled at Bock and nodded, though Lonogan was aware of Admiral Criswell frowning at them both.
“The Cassinni are always willing to help a friendly neighbor,” King Marc said enthusiastically. “What can we do?”
“We would like you to move your fleet off of the finger of Massi and make sure no ships from the Palmerrio or Rhondono land on our shores.”
The King’s looked confused for a moment and then glanced to Criswell for help.
“The Palmerrio and Rhondono are with the High King,” she explained and instantly a frown appeared on
Marc’s face. He looked hard at Lonogan for a moment, obviously growing angry.
“The High King has attacked the Massi,” Jess na Gall said softly from her place close by Lonogan.
King Marc shook his head negatively, as if he didn’t believe her.
“But he has,” Jess insisted, “as he attacked the Toranado and the Travelers.”
“The High King is my friend,” Marc insisted. “He would not do those bad things.”
“The High King is your friend…” Admiral Criswell said.
“Yes, he is my King,” General Keadle interrupted, “but he has done bad things.”
Criswell frowned at the General, who stared back blandly. He hated Criswell and the influence she had over his King. Oh, he didn’t believe she was a bad person, or that she would use her influence to sway the King off the path of what was best for the Cassinni, but she had a very inflated opinion of her own judgment. To his thinking, anyone who thought themselves infallible proved themselves so, even before any additional decisions were made.
“M’lord…the High King has always shown the Cassinni the deepest friendship and respect,” Criswell argued. “It would be dangerous to throw that aside.”
Bock watched this interplay with growing dismay. It was obvious that the King of Cassinni was not truly fit to make such a decision and Lonogan quickly decided he would have no part in trying to sway such a man to go to war. If Cassinni blood was to be spilled it would not come from his hand, though now he had to think of some way to break the news of his failure to his own King.
“I’ll not force this decision upon you,” Bock said standing abruptly, surprising King Marc and both the na Galls. Jess reached out and put a hand on his arm.
“We cannot give up so readily,” she said, her eyes pleading for him to retake his seat.
Lonogan smiled at her and then his eyes scanned to her father, the King’s advisors and finally to King Marc himself, who was eyeing Bock thoughtfully.
Elsewhere ti-3 Page 10
