“Why worry about it?” she asked. “Do you really think he’ll survive?”
“Of course not,” Leonosis said. “He’s the last person I would expect to survive any kind of harsh circumstances. He isn’t ruthless enough.”
“So why let it bother you?” she asked.
“Because,” he said shaking his head and beginning to pace, “I don’t like it when I can’t understand a person.”
“Do you understand most people?”
“Yes, of course I do. People are motivated by money, love, greed, power. Despite what we’re taught in the temple on holy days, everyone has a reason for what they do. I just can’t put my finger on Tiberius’ reasoning.”
“Perhaps he’s a fool?”
“No, he isn’t a fool. It was almost as if he wanted to be banished.”
“What do you mean?” Princess Ariel asked, genuinely intrigued.
“First of all, he didn’t fight it. Why would anyone not object to being banished? It’s insane, but Tiberius didn’t say one word in his own defense. And then, there’s the matter of the horses.”
“What horses?”
“Someone managed to get four horses out of the city. A girl I’ve never seen before met Tiberius and Rafe with supplies and horses after they were banished.”
“Interesting,” Princess Ariel said.
“Or disturbing,” Leonosis said. “There’s got to be a reason for it, but I can’t put my finger on it.”
“You think he’s planning to oppose you,” she said.
“It’s possible. He’s smarter than he lets on and his friend is not just an able-bodied soldier. He’s popular—all across the city people know who Rafe Grentzson is. Half of the war band would follow him to the gates of hell and back. But why leave the city? What strategic advantage would that give him?”
“You really think he left willingly?”
“Yes, I just can’t fathom why.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she almost purred, as she put her hand on his arm. “I’ve made a decision. I want you to come back to Sparlan Citadel with me.”
“You do?” Leonosis asked.
He was shocked. The Princess had treated him with contempt nearly her entire visit, and now she was asking him to come with her to the capital. He couldn’t believe it.
“You and I have common interests,” she said. “I promised Tiberius that I would see to it that his friends are pardoned if they can make it to the Citadel.”
“You did what?” Leonosis said angrily.
“No one has ever done it,” she said. “But I have a feeling about your brother. He may surprise us all. If that is the case, then I want you there to rein him back in.”
“You think I want to go to Sparlan Citadel on a fool’s errand. I won’t leave Avondale unprepared if Tiberius returns.”
“You think he’s just waiting, biding his time to attempt a coup. I think he has other reasons for his departure.”
“What could you possibly know about Tiberius? You’ve only met him twice and you think you know more than his own brother.”
“That is your weakness, Leonosis. It is why you would make a poor King. You can’t fathom that a woman could have ways of knowing things about a person that you can never understand. And yet, it is true. I’m guessing that if you dig deep enough into your brother’s recent activities, you’ll find the answer. Or you could just come with me.”
“You intrigue me, I’ll admit that.” He moved closer to the Princess. “At first you seemed distant, cold, even a little vain.”
“Don’t misunderstand me, Lord Leonosis. I have no interest in you as a lover.”
She stood up suddenly and Leonosis was taken aback by the way she looked. She was still beautiful, perhaps even more beautiful than ever, but she seemed darker somehow, larger, and much more terrifying.
“What is this?” he sputtered as he stumbled back off the dais.
“Your power comes from your position in this city,” she said, her voice so loud it echoed off the stone walls of the audience chamber. “My power is much greater. Do not underestimate me, or you will know pain you never thought imaginable.”
Leonosis couldn’t believe his eyes. The Princess seemed to grow before his very eyes, looming bigger and bigger, until she had to stoop over him to keep from banging her head on the ceiling. She was smiling, but it was a look of terrible cruelty. She raised her hand, pointing a finger at him, and he felt something moving inside him. He tore at his tunic as she began to laugh. The sound made his blood run cold as it echoed around the chamber.
He frantically pulled his shirt up, and there, visible just under the skin, was a writhing, serpentine creature. He shouted in fear, and then passed out.
When he woke he was alone in the audience chamber. He had no idea how long he’d been lying on the cold stone floor, but his body ached. He raised up high enough to look at his stomach, but it seemed normal. He touched it, trying to ensure that there was nothing foreign in his body. Then he rolled to his side and pushed himself up. His head was spinning, but after a few moments, everything seemed to settle into place. He rose slowly and walked to the door. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t explain what had happened with Princess Ariel. She was more than she seemed.
He walked slowly back through the palace toward the banquet room, trying to figure out exactly what had happened. Was it possible that Princess Ariel was some sort of demon? Had he imagined the whole encounter? He couldn’t put his finger on what was bothering him so much about the encounter. It was easy to simply point out the fact that he had been terrified. She might have drugged him somehow, he reasoned. It would explain the hallucination, and the fact that he’d passed out.
“Where the hell have you been?” Brutas asked as he came around the corner.
“What?”
“Father is looking for you. It’s almost time for the final feast before the King leaves and you’ve been missing all day.”
“Night has fallen?”
“Uh, yes... where have you been?”
“I wasn’t well,” Leonosis said. “I took a nap.”
“Well, you picked a perfect time. I’m sure the King won’t mind if you need to retire early,” Brutas scoffed. “You’d better clean yourself up, you look terrible.”
“Tell father I’m on my way,” Leonosis said.
Brutas shook his head and hurried away. Normally, Leonosis would never have permitted his brother to speak to him in such a fashion, but his mind was still on the Princess. There were other explanations for what had happened, but the most worrisome involved magic and no matter how hard he tried, Leonosis couldn’t shake the feeling that the Princess was a witch.
Chapter 2
Tiberius
“Gather our things,” Tiberius said. “I’ll saddle the horses.”
“We’re going after her now?” Rafe asked.
“Of course we are.”
“But we don’t even know where she went,” Rafe said.
“It’s most likely that she went back to Avondale,” Tiberius said. “She must have thought you were defeated in the Tuscogee last night.”
“Alright, alright, but let me check on Olyva. And we’ll need supplies as well. We can’t just go rushing off and leave the tribe without guidance.”
“I’ll take care of it. Just get your weapons and get back here,” Tiberius said.
He watched as his friend walked away. He was so frustrated that he wanted to scream. Lexi had saved their lives and made a huge sacrifice to leave Avondale with Tiberius, but Rafe acted as if she didn’t matter in the least. If Lady Olyva had gone missing, it would be a different story, he guessed.
“Swanee,” the Hoskali man who had been tending the animals said. “You are leaving the tribe?”
“I have to go find my friend,” Tiberius said. “She could be in danger.”
“The Rogu will help,” the man said. “They read the grasses.”
“The Rogu?” Tiberius said. “Who is that?”
&
nbsp; “Hunters,” the man said excited. “Come, I show you.”
Tiberius wanted to stay and saddle the horses, but he decided that if the Hoskali had people that could help him find Lexi, he would be foolish not to include them. The man smiled and spoke as they walked. Tiberius could tell he was very excited.
“It is good to have a new Swanee,” he said. “Moswanee was cruel, even to the animals. I don’t think you have a shadow on your heart. You have a sign of the Great Father on you.”
“The Great Father?” Tiberius said as he walked along beside the man.
“He makes the light shine in the sky and gives the healing rain,” said the man. “You not know the Great Father, Swanee?”
“You mean God? Addoni?” Tiberius asked.
“Addoni, means Great Father, yes,” said the man. “I am Quntah, it means horseman in the old tongue. I care for your animals. Te’sumee leads the Rogu. Te’sumee means shadow hunter.”
“He can track animals?” Tiberius asked.
“Animals, people, horses,” Quntah said. “Te’sumee can track fish through the water.”
Tiberius smiled. He was beginning to like Quntah. They went to a part of the camp where a group of men slept out in the open. Most of the tribal folk had shelters made from animal hides stretched over pliable wooden staves. The shelters looked like giant mushrooms on the grassy prairie. Some were only large enough for two people to take refuge inside, others, like the one Tiberius had slept in, could easily hold over a dozen.
The tribe was beginning to stir now. Small fires were kindled and food was being prepared. Tiberius could smell the flat bread, which was a staple for the tribe, being cooked and it made his stomach rumble. The group of men who had no shelters were still sleeping for the most part. One stood up—he was short and thin, his hair a bushy mass. He stretched and approached Tiberius.
“You have need of the Rogu, Swanee?” the man asked.
“Are you Te’sumee?”
“Yes, Swanee. I can hunt anything on the plains.”
“I need you to find a person. Lexi, the girl that came with us. The one with short hair. She left last night, on horseback. Can you find her?”
“Leave it to the Rogu,” Te’sumee said.
He turned to the men around him and began giving orders. The men rose up, stretching and yawning, then followed Te’sumee toward the area of the camp where the animals were kept.
“Do you know how to saddle a horse, Quntah?”
“Oh, yes, Swanee.”
“Do it then,” Tiberius said. “One for me and one for Rafe.”
Quntah bowed and hurried away. Tiberius was about to find Rafe so they could leave when three women approached. One was older, the other two younger than Tiberius. They smiled shyly.
“Swanee,” the older woman said. “Come, eat, we have everything prepared for you.”
“I can’t eat,” Tiberius said. “My friend is missing. I have to go and find her.”
“We do not please you,” said one the girls, looking ashamed.
“No,” Ti said. “It’s not anything like that.”
“Come, eat,” the older woman repeated.
“Fine,” Tiberius said. “I’ll eat a little, but then I really have to go.”
The younger girls looked excited. They led him back to the large shelter. A fire had been built outside the entrance and two more women were cooking breakfast. They had flatbread, cheese, berries, and a thick porridge that bubbled in a small kettle.
“Swanee,” the women said, standing and bowing.
“Call me Ti,” he told them.
“Tiswanee,” said the older woman.
She wasn’t quiet his mother’s age, but it was hard to tell for certain. The Hoskali women had dark skin and dark hair, which they grew long and wild. Unlike the men who only wore pants, the women wore simple dresses that covered them from their shoulders to their knees. Their arms and lower legs were bare. No one in the camp seemed to wear shoes of any type. Tiberius couldn’t help notice that all the women around the large shelter, even the older ones, were very attractive. He had a nagging suspicion that the women were Moswanee’s harem of wives, but he didn’t want to offend anyone by asking.
They sat him down and brought him a bowl of food. The cheese was soft and melted onto the bread. They dropped berries into the porridge and Tiberius stirred the concoction around. The porridge was gray and bland, but the berries gave it color and sweetness. Tiberius ate his fill while the women watched him, eager to make him happy.
When he finished, he handed the bowl back to the older woman. She bowed as she took the dish and Tiberius stood up. He could see Rafe approaching with Olyva in tow. He was leading her by the hand, but her other arm was raised up and she walked with her head thrown back so that her face was pointed up toward the sunlight.
“Are you alright?” Tiberius asked.
“Fine,” Rafe said, his voice gruff. “Everything’s peachy.”
“Is Olyva worse?”
Lady Olyva seemed not to notice that Tiberius was talking about her.
“The little twigs are growing,” Rafe said irritably. “But the patches haven’t seemed to spread.”
“Let me see,” Tiberius said.
Rafe lifted the back of Olyva’s shirt. Her skin, unlike the women of the Hoskali, was pale, making the contrast between her white skin and the brown stems seem shocking. The women around Tiberius began to whisper when they saw Olyva’s back.
“That’s so odd,” Tiberius said as he touched the soft, fibrous growth.
“Yeah, odd,” Rafe said. “She’s growing sticks right out of her skin, Ti. It’s more than odd.”
“Well, at least it’s not getting worse.”
“I’m not sure it could get worse. I told her I would protect her, that she could trust me. And now look at her. Half the time I don’t even think she hears what I’m saying.”
“I hear you,” she said in a voice that seemed light and happy.
“Lady Olyva, don’t you care about what is happening to you?”
She turned her head, blinking a few times, then looking straight at Tiberius.
“I can feel the magic around you,” she said. “It feels right.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean,” Rafe demanded.
Tiberius shrugged his shoulders. The older woman from the chief’s harem stepped forward and put her arm around Olyva, leading her away from Rafe.
“Where is she taking Lady Olyva?” he said.
“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” Tiberius said. “Look at them, they revere her.”
He was right, the women gathered around Lady Olyva, who was looking up at the bright, amber sky once more. She had both hands raised up as if in supplication. At the older woman’s direction, they brought water and poured it over Olyva’s feet.
“It looks to me like they’re trying to plant her,” Rafe growled.
“They’re giving her what she needs,” Tiberius said. “They know more about this than we do. I promise you I’ll find out all I can as soon as we get back. But first we have to find Lexi.”
Rafe nodded, but didn’t speak. Tiberius waved one of the girls over. She was young, her face still round, but very attractive.
“Can you tell me what happened to my tunic and boots?” Tiberius asked her.
“I will fetch them for you,” the girl said.
“What about our weapons?” Rafe asked.
“That’s next on my list,” Tiberius assured his friend.
The girl brought Ti’s clothes, then they left Lady Olyva with the group of women and went in search of their weapons. It didn’t take long to find the partially burned wagon that Moswanee had traveled in. Ti grimaced at the damage he had caused to the wagon as they attempted to escape the day before. Wood was scarce on the prairie, so it would be difficult to repair it, but the bed of the wagon was still intact and filled with items including the spears, swords, and daggers that the tribe had taken from Tiberius and his friends. He had to dig
for a minute, but he breathed a sigh of relief when he found his whip.
Tiberius couldn’t help but notice the wealth of items still in the wagon. There were many finely tanned animal skins, including the hides Rafe had cut from the Graypees they had killed. There were baskets of food, jewelry, tools, clothing, weapons, and blankets.
“What is all this stuff?” Rafe asked.
“Looks like supplies for the tribe,” Tiberius said. “It’s too bad about the wagon.”
“It will still roll, that’s what’s important.”
Quntah came to Tiberius leading two horses. One was Mars, the horse that Rafe had named, the other was Olyva’s horse, but she hadn’t had a chance to name hers yet.
“Why didn’t he use our saddles?” Rafe said, obviously displeased.
“I’m sure there’s a reason,” Tiberius said calmly.
Quntah was smiling broadly. He had saddled the horses with what looked like thin, leather coverlets, not the heavy, molded saddles with high backs and a study horn that the two men from Avondale were used to.
“The horses are ready,” Quntah said happily. “The Rogu are on the hunt. If you leave now you can catch them.”
“What happened to our saddles?” Rafe snapped.
“There was only one left,” Quntah said. “Ours are better.”
“Why was there only one left?” Rafe asked. “Lexi wouldn’t take an extra saddle?”
“I guess we’ll find out,” Tiberius said.
He stepped forward and pondered for a moment how to pull himself up into the strange little saddle. He was used to grabbing the saddle horn and the back of the saddle, but the Hoskali saddle had nothing to hold on to. The saddle was little more than a padded blanket with stirrups. He placed one foot in the stirrup and then took hold of a handful of the horse’s mane. It took a little more coordination that Tiberius was used to, but he got up onto the horse on his second try. He grimaced a little at how easy Rafe made it look. The young warrior bounded up onto his horse on the first try, almost as if he’d been doing it forever.
Draggah Page 2
