Horizon (In the Absence of Kings Book 3)

by Lee LaCroix

  “Quickly, hurry inside,” he spoke as he waved them into the window.

  Ilsa crouched in first, crawled a small length before falling hands first onto the floor, and landed with a roll. Not so graceful, Garreth fell onto his hands and back with a thump. Ilsa helped him out of the way just before the boy slid through the window and landed on his feet with a single motion. The two looked up at the boy with a curious look. He was wearing a small red cap and a red sash over sandy loose pants and a buttoned-up vest. The fineness of his black, bobbing hair was only matched by his solid brown eyes, and he had a slightly tall, wiry build.

  “Ayden, what is going on down there? What’s all the racket?” a voice hollered from above.

  “Nothing, Grandfather, I just tripped over a table. Nothing I can’t fix,” he yelled out in return.

  The three could hear footsteps above as a man hobbled with a cane to the base of the stairs, and then a curtain opened, flooding the basement with light. They watched as the man’s wrinkled feet and green sandals appeared first. His brown, flowing robe followed as each foot descended down the stairs. He came to the landing of the stairs and looked about with squinty eyes. He inspected the two darkly-garbed visitors who were little more than shadows to his hazy sight.

  “I found them in the market, Raldeen. They were speaking the old tongue,” Ayden explained.

  The old man nodded and waddled his way over to Garreth.

  “That can be very dangerous, travelers. The Vandari are very sensitive about the spoken word. They demand that only their words can be spoken in public and in trade,” Raldeen explained.

  “How is it you know the tongue of the Kal’reth?” he continued to ask, peering at Garreth.

  “I’m not sure about the old tongue, but this is what we speak in Malquia,” Garreth explained.

  “Then they must be with the travelers from across the sea!” Ayden piped up.

  “We did come over the sea, but we were shipwrecked by the Vandari before we could arrive here,” Garreth explained and nodded.

  “The Order is not too fond of anyone but themselves, I can tell you that,” the old man replied.

  “This isn’t Vandar, is it? We saw guards at the gate and in the market,” Ilsa asked.

  “While Kal’resh is currently under occupation by this ‘Vandarian Order’, it is not their true home. Kal’resh and Vandar are sibling lands, two great masses connected by a narrow peninsula. The people of Kal’resh have always been a decentralized, nomadic people. We have gone where the water flows across the vastness of the sandy desert, and have taken up shelter on the shores and oases of this golden land. Cooperation has always been essential to survival in this volatile land. As warfare was little known to us, we really had no resistance against the Vandarian Order when they came from the north. The conquered locals have heard a barrage of reasons, but it appears the cold and dry condition of Vandar has become increasingly frigid, making their farming season dangerously short and threatening their people with famine and starvation. They continue to move south into Kal’resh, taking more territory for their people, so they can continue to sustain their population,” the elder explained to the travelers, who had now been offered a seat by Ayden.

  “Vandar came to Malquia seeking the same dominance. Luckily for us, we had an army, united by the free and the virtuous, to repel their forces and send them back to where they came from,” Garreth explained before Raldeen nodded at to his tale.

  “Yes, yes, that is what we have heard. Word has spread of their defeat from deserters or the disillusioned of the Order. Now that the Kal’reth know their oppressors are not invincible, my grandson and his friends have been getting up to all kinds of mischief,” the old man admitted.

  “While we were sneaking around the docks earlier, we saw the Vandari escorting a bunch of strangers with foreign garb just like yours. Some of them called out in the old tongue. They were taken into the prison just near the coast,” Ayden explained.

  “The rest of the crew,” Garreth whispered, daring to hope.

  “They were dear to you then? It is a shame. On the rare chance that anyone comes out of that dungeon, it is to be taken farther north into Vandar territory,” Raldeen warned.

  “Something must be done. The Amberclast crew risked their lives to get us to this shore. That is not a gesture I will forsake so easily,” Garreth claimed.

  Ilsa recognized the same fire in his words that drew her close to him like a moth to a flame, and she took his hands and nodded.

  “We will not forget them. Besides, Kayten and Novas may be with them,” Ilsa agreed. “Where is the prison exactly?”

  “It is on the southern edge of the docks facing the sea. The northern face is a steep drop to the bay, and the walls surrounding it make the southern entrance the only way in,” Ayden explained.

  “We’ll have to be fast and precise,” Garreth commented.

  “What exactly are you planning?” Ayden asked.

  “This is not the first prison break I have taken part of, and I’m sure it will not be the last. Ayden, are you and your men willing to help us?” Garreth replied.

  “My friends and I are not really warriors like you, but I think we can help in some way,” he replied with a nod.

  “Good. Go, bring them. Ilsa and I will sneak out and take a look at this prison. We’ll be back at sundown,” Garreth asked before he climbed out the window and then gave Ilsa a hand up and out.

  Ayden and Raldeen stood perplexed, looked at each other, and then shrugged. Ayden followed his grandfather out of the basement without a word.

  Chapter Six

  Garreth and Ilsa found themselves in the alleyway behind Raldeen’s house as the sky began to darken. They lifted up the thick tarp, and Ilsa made her way into the window. After Garreth managed to land on his feet, he looked around at the boys, some teenage and slightly older, who had grown timid and blushing at the sight of Ilsa’s beauty. The Malquians both smiled at the locals, whose faces were lit by a single lamp, and they both took empty chairs.

  “I’m very glad you can join us. Raldeen tells us, like us, you have little love for the Vandari,” Garreth began.

  “All thieves and armoured thugs!” one of the boys, Yanno, cursed.

  “Yaaa!” another, Krits, spoke out.

  “We understand you are not soldiers, but we were hoping you could help us deliver us our friends from imprisonment,” Ilsa began.

  “For you, anything!” the youngest, Namy, blurted, “We’d be the coolest kids in town!”

  “Yea, and we’d be dead if the Order ever found out. So keep this quiet,” Ayden warned.

  “Quiet is what we will be then. Here is the plan,” Garreth began.

  The last lights of the bazaar were being extinguished as Garreth and Ilsa followed Ayden and his friends through alleyways and passages near Nacosst’s center. The night sky was clear again. Since rain rarely fell in Nacosst, there were no clouds in the sky. A layer of blue moonlight and white starlight made subtle tracings of their figures as they made their way through the unlit Nacosst streets. They came to the wall and the gate that separated the prison from the residents and the market, and Ayden spied two sentries at the open door. Ayden looked back at the line of people that followed him.

  “Namy, Yanno, get to it,” Ayden told the two with a nod.

  The two boys nodded and snuck in closer to the gate, both hiding with their backs to a large crate. Sweat beaded at their brows as they looked over at each other, nodded, and stood up. They each released a loosely-tied linen bag at each of the guards. The guards coughed and sputtered as the bags opened on contact, spreading a cloud of flour on their face and in the air.

  “Let’s get out of here!” Yanno yelled.

  The boys took off slowly until they knew they were being chased by the guards, who yelled curses in their native tongue, and then Namy and Yanno ran into an alley, taking the Vandari away.

  “Okay, let’s move,” Ayden said as he moved the group, now only four, fr
om the alleyway and through the gate of the prison.

  They made their way through the torchlight as fast as possible and stopped alongside the wide wheel of a carriage. Ayden looked around the side of the carriage. It seemed to him that the absence of the gate guards had been noticed, for the Vandari at the prison door gestured towards the gate.

  “Our turn, Krits,” Ayden stated, nodding to his friend.

  “Goodluck in there,” Ayden told Garreth and Ilsa.

  “You too,” Garreth replied and offered up his hand.

  The young man shook it with a smile and then bound around the carriage.

  “Hey, you!” Ayden shouted.

  The sack of flour flew from the carriage and hit the guard square in the nose before he took a measure of flour up his nostrils. While Krits’ bag landed on one of the breastplates, the guards were still confused and infuriated until the sight of the jesting youths came into focus. As the guards barrelled down the prison’s front steps, Ayden made a face and Krits smacked at his ass. Shortly, the boys sprinted off, and took the guards up the stairs onto the wall. After a short run about, the pair dove into the sea. Garreth looked at Ilsa, and she nodded. They rushed up the front steps of the prison, unsheathing their weapons before throwing open the prison door.

  A guard slept against the wall on a stool in the landing’s most shady corner, and another sat at the receiving desk and scrawled at some parchment. The one at the desk looked up at the two Malquians and then shouted. The sleeping guard’s eyes flew open. A second later, he pushed against the wall to stand. In return, he was pushed back against the wall and slumped against the stool as Ilsa dove into him with her daggers drawn into his chest. The guard at the desk stood up and drew his sword from his belt in a swift motion, but Garreth jumped with one hand on the table and delivered a kick to the guard’s stomach, sending the Vandarian against the back wall.

  “Garreth! More of them!” Ilsa called out as she heard the slamming of footsteps behind her.

  Garreth pulled his sword out of the fallen guard and moved to meet the new foes, clashing with two in the doorway of the stairwell just in front of the top steps. The small passage was brightened as Darkbreaker met the Vandarian blades, and three quick strikes blinded Garreth’s foes. With a precise kick, Garreth sent the first barrelling into the two on the stairs, knocking all three into the basement. Garreth paced down the steps into the dungeon, catching a glance at the iron bars of the prison below. The Vandari covered their eyes more than their bodies with their shields, and with a few precise thrusts, those soldiers would never stand again. Garreth had a split second to leap out of the way as a Vandarian rushed down the stairs towards him. He leapt out of way and brought his blade up to parry the incoming blow. But it never came, for the man remained still on the floor, and Ilsa stood at the stair top smirking.

  “Very funny. Look for the keys will you?” Garreth asked as he began to search the fallen.

  Ilsa found the keys on one of the bodies upstairs and skipped down the stairs with them. They found the remaining crew of the Amberclast in the corner cell, and from a quick count, there seemed to be twelve of them. Ilsa put the key into the lock, and Garreth leaned his way inside as the door opened and began to shake the rest of them awake. Garreth tried his best not to seem dismayed when he did not discover Novas or Kayten among them and still would not believe that they had not perished at sea.

  “Oh dear. It’s Garreth, we’re saved,” Captain Vern said as his head bobbed about.

  “It is good to see you. I was born here, but I did not want to die here,” Sevrad admitted.

  “Follow us and stay close and quiet. Get the weapons scattered about, we may need them before the end,” Garreth asked and then watched the seafarers pick up the swords and shields.

  Garreth opened the prison door a small slit and then closed it again; the guards had returned to their positions outside of it. Garreth waved Ilsa over, and they sprang out of the door, felling their targets unaware. The sailors however, still groggy and tired, did not take the greatest care in masking their noise, and the guards at the front gate caught sound of their heavy steps. After the guards had turned around and caught sight of the escape, they sprinted away, retreating into the city.

  “We must be quick now. Who knows when more will return or how many,” Garreth stated.

  Garreth led them into the residential area and directed them, one-by-one, into Raldeen’s basement where food and water waited.

  As hot and dry as the desert around it, Kayten’s mouth became so crisp that it woke her from sleep, prompting her to sit up and nearly smack her head on the shallow roof of the cave. Desperate to keep the skin on her tongue, she reached over Novas, grabbed at the canteen, twisted off the cap, and then drank a mouthful, swilling it for a time before swallowing. She took a deep breath when she had finished and rested her head down again. Although, it was not just the heat that had woken her that morning, but she had sensed that something had been moving about while she had been sleeping. She had hoped it was the Novas being restless.

  “Try to go easy on that. We still have a ways to go,” Novas murmured as he awoke.

  Kayten passed him back the canteen, and he took a sip just large enough to coat the inside of his mouth. He was worried about the scarcity of water but said nothing to worry her. Last night, Novas had felt something moving around as well, and he stared at the shallow recess of the cave. To his surprise, he saw two circular and shining objects, glimmering like bits of golden ore. Did we drop something, he thought, did something fall off our armour?

  As he reached into the darkness of the cave, the glossy orbs seemed to waver but then rushed towards him. The next thing he felt was a sting of pain as his hand was enveloped in a black body. Novas yelled and threw his hand around, tossing the obscuration out of the shade into the sun of morning. As it flew through the air, its black scales glinted like polished onyx, and stripes of gold shimmered in the light across its body. The beast rolled back onto its four feet and hissed at the pair, revealing its forked tongue and purple mouth, before it dug into the sand and disappeared.

  “What the hell was that?” Kayten yelled.

  “I don’t know. It looked like some kind of lizard, so scaly and flat, but much bigger than I’ve ever seen in my life,” Novas claimed as he tried to wave the pain out of his hand.

  He stopped his waving and brought his hand into the sunlight to look at the wound. His eyes bulged with worry as he noticed a clear fluid building up around the bite marks. Venom, he thought as he licked up the liquid and spit it into the sand.

  “What’s wrong?” Kayten asked as she became concerned with Novas’ sudden movements.

  “I think I’ve been poisoned,” Novas explained between breaths, trying to suck all the venom out of the wound like his father had shown him long ago.

  He washed out his mouth and continued to expunge the poison until he could no longer taste the bitter liquid in his mouth. Novas looked at the wound in the sunlight and tried to believe that it didn’t look any more red than any other wounds, but the numbness developing in his hand was beginning to convince him otherwise. Kayten watched him with concern.

  “I’ll be alright, but we should get moving,” Novas said as he continued to flex his hand.

  They both shimmied out of the cave and into the sun. The heat was no cooler than it was yesterday, but they tried to put the heat out of their minds as they climbed to the top of the nearest peak of sand. The same as yesterday, the dunes rose and fell like unmoving ocean waves. Soon enough, Kayten and Novas found themselves sailing up and down the sandy faces upon a ship of tired feet. It appeared to them as a mirage at first with round ears, but as it scurried from the crest of a dune, a desert fox sent them a glance and soon hurried on its way. They eventually came to another rocky valley and found some much needed shade around midday. They sat their backs against the rock face, and Novas pulled open the cap to the canteen and sipped at it. When he received the canteen back from Kayten, he swirled i
t around, feeling what remained.

  “Half gone now. Hopefully we’re half way there,” Novas remarked as he sealed the cap on the canteen.

  Kayten nodded, went to go reach out for his hand, and then recoiled.

  “How is your hand? Are you feeling okay?” Kayten asked as she pursed her lips with concern.

  “Yeah, it’s okay. A bit sore. Nothing out of the ordinary,” Novas explained.

  He didn’t want to worry her, however. He was beginning to feel lightheaded, and the numbness was shortly consuming his whole arm. They rose a few minutes later, cooled as much as they could be from the shade, and continued north as close to the shade of dunes as they could. They had not made it another hour before Novas fell flat on his face into the sand, and Kayten rushed to his side and pulled him up.

  “Novas! Novas! What’s wrong?” she yelled at him.

  “I’m going numb, not just from lack of water. It’s hard to keep my head up,” Novas explained.

  “Novas, you are one of the strongest men I know. We can’t give up now,” Kayten pleaded.

  Novas nodded, rose to his feet again, and trudged on into the heated expanse of desert with Kayten following close behind. They were on their way down a tall dune when he collapsed again. This time, he rolled quite a ways until reaching the bottom. Kayten rushed after him, but he was nearly unconscious when she found him.

  “Come on, Novas. Walk with me now. Be strong,” Kayten asked as she lifted him to his feet, slung his arm around her shoulder, and propped him up.