Fire and Fantasy: A Limited Edition Collection of Urban and Epic Fantasy

by CK Dawn

  She thanked him, then chased after Gally who was staring at the containers, under the eye of an annoyed woman.

  “Gally doesn’t know this food,” he said. “What will Gally like?”

  “I’m sorry—Payla?”

  “What’s wrong with him? I tell him what will be good but he doesn’t listen.”

  “He has the mind of a child, but he’s good with ziri,” said Kantees wondering why she had to keep excusing Galiko’s behaviour. Why couldn’t people just accept him for what he was? “Is there anything that’s particularly sweet?”

  She pointed at a plate with a white meat mixed in with a vegetable she didn’t recognise.

  “I’m sorry, Payla, we come from Jakalain, it’s inland so we don’t have a lot of fish or…” she trailed off not knowing how to describe the vegetable without insulting their host.

  “Seaweed.”

  “Seaweed?”

  “It’s a plant that grows in the sea. After it’s harvested, we dry it, soak it in honey, and eat it.”

  Kantees glanced at Gally. He hadn’t reacted to the description. So she took a small amount of it and tested it. It was crunchy and very sweet. Delicious.

  She offered a little to Gally. He opened his mouth warily and tasted. His face lit up in a grin.

  “We’ll take two of these,” she said.

  “Good choice,” said Payla. “You wouldn’t like the other one. Octopus.”

  Kantees had no idea what an octopus was but she was sure Payla was right. It didn’t even sound nice.

  The building might be the same, but the furnishings and customs were different. She did not want to make any mistakes so she found them a table off to the side that was otherwise unoccupied.

  The food was strange but not unpleasant. Gally watched her before he dug into his own.

  After they had eaten they returned up the tower and found the four zirichasa had been fed. Kantees could not tell what the food was, though it seemed to be some sort of large fish. She had no appreciation of the different types and assumed that Temekin knew his business. The ziri had no problem wolfing it down, except Shingul.

  Ferel had declared she should be kept restrained so that she could not give whatever malady she had to the others, and that she only be fed small amounts of fish.

  And at that point Kantees had nothing left to do. Back at Jakalain there were always tasks needing attention but not here, since there were others to do it. Being at a loose end made her uncomfortable.

  She went to the exit from the eyrie and looked out. The rain had started up again, making it hard for her to see the town below. All she could make out were grey rooftops. Having nothing to do gave her the opportunity to worry about Yenteel and Daybian. Their story was like a house built of straw; to be honest, the only thing that gave it any validity was the fact that everyone in the town had seen them arrive from the sea.

  “Kantees.”

  She recognised Yenteel’s voice. He was panting as he awkwardly climbed up through the trap door, his arm .not yet healed He had been using it to help climb but slipped it back into the sling as soon as he could.

  “How goes the plan?”

  “Things are moving too swiftly,” he said and did not sound very happy about it.

  “Do they believe the story?”

  “I don’t know, but they are offering to send Daybian back to Jakalain using the patterner’s path.”

  “But we can’t trust them,” she said.

  He shook his head. And Sheesha’s stomach grumbled as he digested the fish.

  “What if they were after Daybian all the time and I interrupted their attack?”

  “They weren’t after Daybian or Jelamie,” said Yenteel.

  “You are not going to say they wanted me.” She felt the anger rising in her. She was nothing, just a slave who was good with the ziri. There was nothing about her that any family of the Taymalin could want.

  “Not saying it does not make it any the less true.”

  Kantees turned away and went to stand with Sheesha. He was half-asleep and did not mind when she checked the gouge in his side left by the fight. It was healing normally.

  “If they had wanted me they would have attacked the tower,” she said. “Or just offered to buy me. They wouldn’t have been the first.”

  “It’s possible they did not know exactly who they wanted, perhaps they just assumed it was the heir because he was Taymalin.”

  “I don’t see how anybody could mix up a Kadralin slave with a Taymalin lord. And, in case you hadn’t noticed, we’re not even the same sex.”

  “But he is good with the ziri, is he not?”

  For all his faults. She nodded.

  “As you are.”

  “What have the zirichasa got to do with it?”

  “That’s something else you don’t like to discuss.”

  “Reading the World’s Pattern? Prophecies?” She almost spat the word. “We’re slaves, Yenteel.”

  “It doesn’t matter how it happened,” he said. “The Hamalain and I turned up at the same time looking for someone who was good with ziri. I, however, had the advantage of not being blinded by preconceptions of who might be the right one.”

  She had no answer. She could not argue that the raid and the arrival of Yenteel had coincided.

  “So why did they take Jelamie?”

  Yenteel shook his head. “Because he was available?”

  “But there was no ransom, they could have traded him for Daybian.”

  Even as she said it she knew it wasn’t true. Daybian was far more important to the family than his younger brother. The lord and lady would have made the decision to lose the spare rather than put the heir at risk. So why take him at all?

  She had a feeling that Daybian would not approve of that—he was here looking for his brother. Oh, wait.

  “Daybian did not get his family’s approval to come after Jelamie and us.”

  “He hasn’t said that but no, I do not think they would have allowed it. Certainly not on his own, on the back of a zirichasa, and an old one.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with Jintan,” she said almost absently, as if defending the ziri was an automatic reaction. She shook her head. Yenteel was making sense and she hated him for it. What he didn’t know—and she was not about to tell him about the magic—was even more convincing.

  “I don’t believe it. It’s just a coincidence” She said finally, hoping she might convince herself as well as Yenteel. She took a deep breath and tried to put it from her mind there were more important matters to deal with. “How soon do they want to send him back to Jakalain?”

  “They had offered to do it today.”

  “That’s quite a rush,” she said. “Wouldn’t their patterners need time to prepare?”

  “Daybian demurred. And has bought us another night.”

  “But you think they were after Daybian?”

  “Yes.”

  “They wouldn’t let him go back to Jakalain then.”

  “No.”

  “If he was on the patterner’s path, they would be able to take him anywhere they pleased.”

  “Quite so.”

  “And they think he barely escaped a shipwreck.”

  Yenteel pulled a face. “Perhaps. Either way they can be reasonably sure no one at Jakalain knows where he is.”

  “We do.”

  “Yes. If they remove Daybian, you can be sure they will dispose of us as well.”

  Kantees dug her hands into Sheesha’s feathers as if she was trying to draw strength from him. Where was his magic when she needed it?

  “I don’t know what to do?” she said. “We haven’t learnt anything and we’re no closer to finding Jelamie.”

  Was there even any point in carrying on?

  “Is that why we’re here?” said Yenteel.

  “Of course it is,” she said. “Why else would I put myself at this much risk?”

  “I really don’t know. It seems a very strange thing to do, trying
to save the life of a child you don’t even like.”

  She turned on him. “What do you want from me, Yenteel? Do you want me to say that I am trying to make up for the wrongs I’ve done? Or perhaps that I was once young and in a place I did not understand where people did not treat me well, so I understand what he may be going through and want to stop it?”

  “Well,” he said. “Which is it?”

  “Neither. Both. Honestly I do not care. I’m doing it because I’m doing it. Because if it wasn’t this I would just be running with my tail between my legs. At least if I do this I can show those at Jakalain that even a slave is a human being. Someone who can choose to care for someone who might not even deserve it.”

  Yenteel fell silent.

  It had grown dark outside. The sound of the sea carried up the cliffs and into the tower. There was a calm comfort in it. She had forgotten that sound from when she was very young. Even though she had lived so close to the water, all she knew of it was the sound coming in through the window in the attic where she slept with the others of the household.

  She supposed she had been happy then, after a fashion. The work had not been hard and she had been able to listen and learn. Though now she regretted not being able to read and write. There was so much learning in books. Perhaps, if they got out of this alive, she might persuade Yenteel to teach her.

  Except he would no doubt go back to his master—she would not go with him no matter how much he pleaded. He could have Daybian instead.

  “We should leave first thing in the morning,” said Yenteel.

  She nodded. At least this time they would not have to face the armed guards. Daybian and Yenteel could come up the tower and they could just mount the ziri and leave. Unfortunately they had absolutely no idea where they should be going next.

  “What does it mean that we found the Hamalain dead in the pool?” she said suddenly. “The tekrak would have been able to cover the distance to here before we caught up with it. It could travel through the entire day without getting tired.”

  “I am more curious as to how it was controlled,” said Yenteel.

  “There was a patterner in the room beneath it,” she said, surprised he didn’t already know. “It was him giving the instructions to the creature.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I saw him. They flew directly at me and then over.”

  “You did not mention that before.”

  “You did not ask.”

  “What else have you not told me?”

  “I believe that is an impossible question to answer,” she said. “The important thing is the name the raider said.”

  “The Duron. Yes, well I have no idea what that is.”

  “We could ask the Hamalain,” she said.

  “I know you are not serious.”

  Am I not? she thought.

  “The raider you spoke to,” he said. “What sort of person was he?”

  “None too bright and not well informed since he assumed I must be a raider as well even though I arrived on Sheesha. Just like any of the armsmen in the castle, I suppose. Happy as long as he has something to eat, a flagon of ale, and somebody to tell him who to kill.”

  “Very well. Let us assume he was typical of the raiders, perhaps even one of the better ones since he had been assigned to look after the bell tower alone.” Yenteel thought for a moment. “So the Hamalain who was in charge—I think it might have been the brother Lorima.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s not here, away on a business trip apparently. And also overdue to return.”

  “So you have been making enquiries.”

  “Yes.”

  “You didn’t tell me.”

  “You didn’t ask,” said Yenteel. Even though she couldn’t see his face in the dark she could hear his smile in his voice. He continued. “The patterner would have been one of the Hamalain’s own since they would not trust anyone else. No one has seen a giant tekrak around here so they must have acquired it, and the men, elsewhere.”

  “You’re saying they were mercenaries,” said Kantees.

  “I am.”

  “And that they might have rebelled after the failure of the raid and decided to keep the tekrak and the patterner for themselves.”

  “It fits what we know.”

  Kantees considered. “Would they also keep Jelamie?”

  “They might. You say he is a little wild and uncontrollable?”

  “I said he’s spoilt,” said Kantees. “His mother had given up on having another child. There was even talk that the father might acknowledge one of his bastards just to ensure there was continuity if something happened to Daybian. So when she became pregnant again and had Jelamie …”

  “She spared the rod.”

  “She would not gainsay him a single wish.” Kantees was surprised at her own feelings over the matter. “And now he runs riot around the castle.”

  “So perhaps he amuses them.”

  “We can only hope that is the case,” said Kantees. “Whatever the truth, they will not treat him as well as his mother.”

  She let it go at that. They could both imagine what unpleasantness could be forced on the boy.

  “I must be getting back,” said Yenteel. “Be ready in the morning.”

  “We still do not know which way to go.”

  “Let us think on it,” he said and was gone.

  She heard him fumbling around for the trapdoor. He swore once until it finally crashed.

  Sheesha grumbled at the noise but was snoring within moments.

  The dampness of the air made it cold and Kantees snuggled for warmth and comfort under Sheesha’s wing.

  Twenty-Three

  “This is a completely disgusting place.”

  Kantees opened her eyes but could see only feathers and daylight. But what she could hear were many feet on the wooden floorboards of the eyrie. Sheesha grumbled—he wasn’t scared, but he was annoyed. He lifted a wing and she climbed out.

  Six armsmen held crossbows pointed in her direction. Instinctively she took a few steps to the side so they were not pointing at her ziri.

  In the middle of the men, slightly behind, was someone who could only be one of the Hamalain brothers. He even resembled the man they had found, at least in the nose. However this one was much larger—fatter. Though clearly not so fat that he could not climb the tower, but if he expanded much more that option would not be available. His clothing was of the finest quality, of course, but still practical in the form of trousers, sturdy shoes, and coat, fastened up.

  She realised she had forgotten herself and immediately knelt with her head bowed. Since she had no job to be about, and the lord was here in Sheesha’s eyrie, she had to pay deference to him and follow his orders.

  “Seneschal.”

  She heard the sounds of another man moving forward, and by lifting her head slightly she could see another pair of shoes. Also of high quality.

  “Ask it where my brother is.”

  “Lord Trimiente wants to know what’s happened to his brother.”

  Inside Kantees laughed. Clearly Trimiente was one of those who would not speak to a slave directly because to do so would taint him. She had had conversations like this before at the races. It was completely ridiculous.

  “I do not know anything of the lord’s brother.”

  The blow knocked her to the floor and left the side of her head aching. It was not that she had not expected it but usually it came after a repeat of the question. It would seem Lord Trimiente’s patience was limited.

  Kantees lifted her head to look at Sheesha who was very still, his eyes were on her. She willed him to do nothing.

  The next blow slammed her head into the floorboards.

  “No one told you, you could get up. What do you know of Lord Lorima?”

  “I do not know anything of the lord’s brother.”

  The next blow landed in her side. He must have kicked her. It hurt but she had borne worse. It was just bruises,
they would heal soon enough.

  The seneschal’s voice was in her ear. “You’re thinking you can take a beating. I know. And it is true this is for show. So the lord can see you being beaten but when we start the torture you will suffer terribly before you die. Tell us what we want to know.”

  “Since I am to die whether I tell you or not—even if there were something—it makes no difference if I speak or stay silent.”

  She felt him move away and his heel came down on her spine, knocking the wind from her, and it felt as if something broke. Through the pain there was a low growl so deep it was felt rather than heard.

  “Shoot the beast,” said Lord Trimiente.

  “No!” The word caught in Kantees’ throat and she coughed. “No.”

  The seneschal was back at her ear. “You care so much about the beast? Then if you do not tell his lordship what he wants to know I will have the animal strung up. Its feathers pulled out one by one, it will be flayed alive and you will be forced to watch.”

  The image of Sheesha being tortured formed in her mind and Kantees sobbed.

  “I will tell you.”

  She was yanked into a sitting position and the ache in her back flared into incandescent pain. She felt the blood drain from her face and hands. The armsmen still had their crossbows aimed at Sheesha, and he was looking at her with an intensity she had never experienced. She could barely think.

  “Well?”

  “I will tell him.”

  The seneschal slapped her across the face.

  “Isn’t it right he should hear the words from the person who found his brother’s body?”

  Lord Trimiente must have been listening. “Bring it here.”

  Kantees could barely walk so the seneschal had to support her the ten paces it took to approach the lord and collapse at his feet.

  “Tell him.”

  “Let him ask me,” she said. “I will be dead before the day is out. What harm is there?”

  She could not see the exchange of looks between the seneschal and his lord but whatever there had been was sufficient. It was Lord Trimiente’s voice she heard next.

  “Where is my brother?”

  “He is dead perhaps ten leagues from Jakalain.”