The Maze

by Trudie Collins

  Brin once again climbed up a tree and looked around. His superior eyesight picked out smoke on the horizon and he informed Tor as soon as he descended. Smoke indicated people, so they headed towards it.

  Night had well and truly fallen by the time they walked into the village. The smoke was coming from the chimneys of a number of the buildings, most of which appeared to be houses. Signs hanging in front of some of them announced a bakery, a blacksmith and a general store, while a large building at the end of the street looked very much like an inn.

  “Wait here while I enquire about rooms for the night,” Tor instructed before heading through the door, Ellen by his side. He soon returned to announce that there were not enough rooms for them all, but he had arranged for pallets and bedding to be moved into the largest room for the women to share and the men would manage in the three remaining smaller rooms. He had also arranged for food to be served, which the innkeeper’s daughters were already preparing.

  “I have also organised for a tub in the back room to be filled with hot water so we can take turns bathing,” Ellen said to Ria, Liselle, Sam and River. As the ladies entered the inn, Tor turned to Seth, Dal and Ban.

  “Ban, my friend, you are too large to comfortably fit in any of the beds they have available. Would you mind sleeping in the hay loft with these two youngsters?”

  “No problem,” he replied, smiling. “I will keep them out of mischief.” While the three of them led the horses round the back to the stables, Tor took the rest of the men into the inn and purchased a few pitchers of ale. He pretended not to notice Seth pass Dal one of the tankards when they returned, having finished seeing to their mounts. They had made sure they had adequate hay, oats and water and ensured that the stable hands were giving them a proper rub down. It had been a very long and difficult journey through the maze and the young man had earned a proper drink, though Tor would only allow him the one.

  By the time food arrived, the ladies had all bathed and changed clothes, as had Patrick. A quick wash was good enough for the rest as they did not want the food to go cold. The food was simple; roast chicken, boiled potatoes and green beans with freshly baked bread followed by fruit pie for dessert; but it tasted wonderful and everyone cleared their plate, though Oak and River refused to even try the delicious meat. Before retiring for the night, Tor retrieved a map from his personal effects and, with the innkeeper’s help, worked out where they were. It turned out they were still in Emvale, not far from the Auxland border.

  “The quickest way back to Vada will be to follow this river towards Kinfen, then head south.”

  “If we have to go back to Vada,” Ellen interrupted.

  “How long before you can confirm your theory?” Tor asked her.

  “I will find the local witch first thing in the morning. If she cannot help me, she should be able to point me towards someone who can.”

  “What do we do about Hawk?” Sam asked. “If we do not return to Allias’s palace, how will he know where to meet us?”

  “I had not thought of that,” Tor admitted. “But I do not want to make such a large detour if I do not have to.”

  “I may be able to help,” one of the innkeeper’s daughters said. She had wandered over to the table they were all crowded around to collect their empty mugs, but had been prevented from leaving by Cirren, who was trying to impress her by pointing out that he was a Prince. He was not getting very far with her as, not only did she not believe him, but she had been making eyes at Patrick all evening. Patrick, however, was doing his best to avoid her gaze, having spied the size of the axe her father kept under the bar. She had been content to stay with Cirren, ignoring his attempts to seduce her, while sitting close to Patrick and listening in on the conversation.

  “And just how can you help?” Ellen asked a little viciously. The girl looked no more than fourteen, but the fact that she had unlaced the front of her bodice to reveal more of her amble bosom and the way she had been looking at Patrick made Ellen wonder if she was after more adult entertainment. Her thoughts were confirmed when the girl replied.

  “I will tell you in the morning, if he persuades me to tonight.” While Patrick choked, Ellen sighed. This young minx badly needed to learn subtlety. “Just do not let my father find out,” she added in a whisper.

  “Regrettably I must decline,” Patrick said once he had recovered from his coughing fit. “The last time I entertained a young lady I ended up in jail and it is an experience I do not want to repeat.” Before any more could be said, he stood up and walked out of the room.

  “Bother,” the young lady said, pouting.

  “Don’t sulk,” Sam said. “It doesn’t suit you.” Cirren, who had also been looking crestfallen as soon as the barmaid had declared her interest to be in Patrick and not himself, instantly changed the look on his face, before realising that Sam was not talking to him.

  “Just exactly how can you help us?” Tor said in an encouraging voice.

  “My brother lives in Vada. We have messenger pigeons for whenever we need to get news to him. If you send a message to my brother, I am sure he will ensure it reaches your friend. Where is he staying?”

  “At the palace,” Tor informed her. The change on her whole bearing was dramatic. Where she had been slouching, she now pulled herself up and smiled sweetly.

  “Is he a close friend of the King’s?”

  Seeing exactly where this was going, Sam answered the question the girl’s face was asking instead of the one her voice did. “He is not available.”

  “I thought you were with him,” she replied, inclining her head towards Brin, who was holding Sam’s hand.

  “I am. Hawk is just a close friend. Let’s just say that he’s not your type.”

  “And what makes you so sure of that?”

  “He’s a vampire.” All colour drained from the young lady’s face. She stood up and mumbled that they should speak to her father if they wanted a message sent and quickly departed. As soon as she was out of earshot, both Sam and Ellen burst out laughing.

  “I fail to see what is so funny,” Cirren said in her defence.

  “No, you wouldn’t,” Sam said, wiping a tear from her eye. Seeing the look on the Prince’s face, she burst out laughing once more.

  As there was nothing more to discuss, the ladies decided to get an early night. The daughter who had suggested using the messenger pigeon was alone behind the bar as Sam passed.

  “That one really is a Prince you know,” she whispered to her, pointing over her shoulder at Cirren. She looked back before leaving the room to see a fresh mug of beer being placed in front of him and the girl sitting on his knee once more.

  “At least one of us is going to have some fun tonight,” she said wistfully before closing the door behind her.

  The next morning, after a large breakfast, the group split up. Ellen went in search of the witch’s cottage to which she had received directions the previous evening; Seth took Dal to the stables to teach him how to check the horses for any sign of lameness or hoof rot; Tor took Ban and Ria with him to the general store to purchase supplies for the next leg of their journey; Patrick went to find a tailor and the rest went exploring the outlying farmland to see what fresh fruit, vegetables and meat they could buy. They met back at the inn at midday, having all had a successful morning. The neighbouring farms had agreed to provide them with enough food to last them a week. All of the horses were declared fit and healthy. Tor and Ria had bought blankets to replace those they had ruined in the maze, and some travellers bread, which was specially made to stay edible for weeks, and had even managed to persuade the blacksmith to part with his spare cart; they would be riding again instead of walking, much to everyone’s relief. The bakery would supply a dozen fresh loaves whenever the group were ready to leave. Patrick’s shirts would be ready first thing in the morning, so he said he would have to catch them up if they wished to depart that day. After a quick discussion, it was agreed to remain in the village for one more night, as long a
s their rooms were still available. Tor spoke to the innkeeper, who was more than happy to continue to have their business.

  Ellen was the last to return, having spent a productive few hours with the local witch, exchanging knowledge and restocking her medicine supply.

  “I was right,” she said when asked if the witch agreed with the idea about the clue. “We need to get hold of a lomas flower. As the clue states, it is blue with red petals. It has been used in the past to create a perfume that men find very appealing, though it is nowhere near as potent as hemper, and a medicine can be made from it that cures most fevers.”

  “That covers three of the lines in the first verse, but what about the first one, ‘I grow where no man dares to tread’?” Bellak asked.

  Ellen smiled. “That is what made me think of it in the first place. There is only one place that the lomas flower is known to grow.”

  “And that is?” Tor encouraged her to continue, knowing that he was not going to like what she said next.

  “Queen Tibia’s private garden. We need to make a trip to Tennel.”

  Chapter 16

  “Oh no,” Seth groaned. “Can I stay behind please?”

  “Tibia,” Sam mused. “I’m sure I have heard that name before.”

  “One of us has probably mentioned her,” Tor confirmed. “We can fill you in over lunch.”

  As they ate, Queen Tibia was discussed. Patrick and Tor took it in turns to provide a complete picture. Tibia, the queen of Auxland, had lived her entire life inside the capital city of Tennel, never once venturing beyond its protective walls. Still only in her late twenties, she had been the ruler of all of Auxland for her entire life, her mother having died in child birth. The throne always passed down through the female line so, despite her young age, she had inherited the crown. Obviously, she was too young to rule, so her aunt, on her father’s side, became Regent until she came of age. The aunt, who was not a strong woman, married a highly ambitious man who firmly believed that the time of female rule should come to an end. Through his wife he became a Duke and managed to pass enough legislation to give the Barons autonomy on how they ruled their provinces, provided they paid an adequate amount to the Crown in taxes.

  “As a result, a lot of the Barons abuse their power and treat their people like slaves,” Tor continued. “They are raping the country, literally in some cases, and living in luxury while the people are close to starvation. All tutors and advisors to Tibia were selected by her aunt so are all behind what her husband is doing. The Queen has been brainwashed into believing that the royal family never leave the capital and she is only permitted to see specially selected delegates, all of whom have been briefed on what to say to her.”

  Patrick took over. “Basically she believes that her country is prosperous, that her people are happy and that all is well. On the rare occasion when one of the general populace is allowed access to her, she is always with her advisors and if anything indicating the true situation is mentioned, the speaker is publically executed; outside the palace walls of course.”

  “But why do none of the other rulers do anything about it?” River asked, shocked.

  Tor grimaced. “My father, for one, tried. He was not permitted access to the Queen and was informed that any further attempts at communication with her would be construed as a declaration of war.”

  “What about her friends or servants? Surely they must be alone with her. Why do none of them say anything?” Ellen enquired. She had never visited Auxland and had not realised how bad things really were there. She had heard a few rumours, but had assumed that they were highly exaggerated.

  This time Patrick answered. “Every single person who comes into contact with Tibia is either directly under her uncle’s control or has a member of their family in prison, being held as insurance. If anything is said, the prisoner will be executed in the most painful manner possible. It is an effective way of keeping everyone in line.”

  “So how does the lomas flower being in her garden fit in?” Sam asked. “Why does the clue state ‘I grow where no man dares to tread’?”

  “No male is allowed inside the private garden.” Tor looked down at Samson, who was hiding under the table, having scraps of food passed down to him. “Even our furry friend here would be denied access. Only Tibia, her personal maids and the female gardeners ever set foot within the garden walls.”

  “So how do we get in?” Modo’s expression showed that he was looking forward to going somewhere that men were not permitted.

  “At this stage, I have no idea. It will be a long journey to Tennel as we will have to completely cross Auxland. Hopefully we can come up with something while we travel.”

  “I have a few ideas, but you may not like them,” Modo volunteered.

  “No. Do not waste your breath telling me about them; the answer will be no.”

  “Tor, you always spoil my fun,” Modo said, pretending to sulk.

  Tor once more produced his map and spread it out on a table, around which they all crowded. “We are here.” Tor pointed to a place on the map with his finger before moving it up and across. “Tennel is here.”

  Grimmel whistled. “Even in a straight line, that is a long way. I take it we will follow the river to begin with,” he continued, indicating a blue line that ran almost past the point that was their current location. He traced it diagonally upwards until it came close to a brown line. “Then we take the Western Trailway to Pitten.”

  Tor nodded. “That seems the best route.”

  “The Trailway seems to make us take a large detour,” Sam observed. “Why can we not go straight across this part and join it again here?” she asked, using her fork to point out places on the map that she could not reach.

  It was Ban who answered. “That is the Sha-Na plains. Nobody ever crosses those.”

  “Why not?”

  “It is unicorn territory.” Ban said no more, thinking this information would suffice. It did not.

  “And?”

  Ban looked at her gravely. “Unicorns do not like incursions into their lands.”

  Sam was still confused. “Unicorns? Horses with horns in the middle of their heads?” Ban nodded. “What do they do? Poke you with their horns?”

  Modo took Sam’s arm and started to move her away from the group. “I will give her a lesson on the vicious nature of unicorns while you work out the rest of the route.” He took her to a table, tucked away in a corner, and asked her to tell him everything she knew about the mythical beasts. She happily spoke about the wonderful, magical animals and how thrilled she was to find they really existed.

  When she had finished, Modo shook his head and sadly informed her that the reality was vastly different from the myth. While unicorns may look like magnificent majestic animals, they were vicious, savage beasts that killed indiscriminately. Highly intelligent and extremely territorial, anyone who trespassed onto their land was hunted down and killed, slowly and painfully. They hunted in herds, surrounding their victims before taking it in turn to gouge them with their horns or crush bones by stamping on them, making sure that none of the inflicted injuries would cause death. They knew which parts of the bodies would cause the most pain with the least life-threatening damage. This would continue, sometimes for hours, until the victim eventually bled to death. The mutilated remains would then be pushed to the edge of unicorn territory, to be found by passing travellers; though whether this was meant to be a warning or just a case of throwing out the garbage, nobody was quite sure. Very few victims were identified and those that were were only recognised by their clothing as their features were crushed beyond recognition.

  “One other thing I should mention,” Modo continued, ignoring the fact that Sam’s face was turning whiter by the second. “They have magic of some kind. Somehow they sense any intrusion into their land and arrive almost instantly. Either they are continually patrolling their borders or they can travel a lot faster than should be physically possible. And they can shield themselves.” />
  “Shield themselves?”

  “That is the only way I can describe it. Hunting parties have tried to bring down a unicorn by spear and arrow, but the projectiles appear to just bounce off without causing any injuries. The hunters were lucky that the unicorns never leave their own territory.”

  “Anything else I should know?” Sam asked quietly, close to tears. Her illusions were being shattered and it was emotionally painful.

  “There is only one thing I can think of. For some reason they cannot abide horses. The minute they spy a horse they fly into a rage and kill it instantly; none of the torture techniques they use on humans and other species are ever applied to a horse.”

  The group was just beginning to break up when Sam and Modo returned to the conference table; the route planned to everyone’s satisfaction.

  “Modo said that the unicorns kill all trespassers,” Sam said to Tor.

  “That is correct,” he replied, indicating she should continue.

  “Has anyone ever asked permission to cross their land?”

  Seth snorted. “Of course not. They are animals. How do you communicate with an....”. His brain caught up with his mouth, preventing him from finishing the sentence.

  Sam smiled at him. “I’m volunteering to try. It will save us weeks of travel time.”

  Tor stared at her for a long time, as though trying to read her mind. “Alright,” he eventually said. Brin started to protest, but Tor held up his hand. “Let me finish. We can afford to stray far enough from the road for her to call to them without actually intruding onto their lands. They will either give permission, in which case we cross, or they will not, in which case we head back to the road.” He then turned to Sam. “I am agreeing to this on the condition that you speak with them on our side of the border, not theirs. Understand? On no condition do you cross into their territory without their permission.”