The Fallen (Book 1)

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The Fallen (Book 1) Page 59

by Dan O'Sullivan


  ‘I need to go to the dunnigin,’ said Dale. ‘That’s a bit embarrassing isn’t it? I need to be carried to the dunnigin and carried to the ship. I hate being ill,’ he said miserably. ‘Perhaps I should wait another day or two, before we leave for Emerald.’

  ‘Dale, you’ve been in bed for over a week and you are relatively clean, your clothing is also reasonably clean and your sheets are fresh,’ Eibhear pointed out. ‘It’s far too late for you to start being embarrassed.’ Without waiting for Dale to complain further, he picked him up, carried him to the dunnigin, waited patiently and then carried the Baron back to his room, placing him back on his bed.

  Within seconds of their return there was a knock at the door and Charie appeared carrying a towel and several wash cloths. She entered without waiting to be invited and two men followed her into the room carrying a tub of warm water.

  ‘Beside the bed please,’ she said, and the two men placed the tub on the floor. ‘Oh! You’re awake Baron! Would you like me to bathe you again today?’

  Dale’s jaw dropped open and his face turned a deep shade of red.

  ‘I think he’ll be alright by himself today, Charie,’ said Eibhear, trying not to laugh at the horrified look on Dale’s face.

  ‘I’ll leave the towel then,’ she said looking quite disappointed. She placed the towel and wash-cloths on the table beside Dale’s bed and left the room, looking back regretfully from the doorway before disappearing down the hall.

  ‘Eibhear!’ Dale was gasping in shock. ‘She didn’t! Did she? How could you let her-’ Dale gave one final groan of embarrassment and pulled the covers over his face.

  ‘Of course I let her bathe you Dale. I sure as hell wasn’t doing it.’ Eibhear looked repulsed at the thought. ‘Besides, she was quite happy to oblige. In fact, she rather enjoyed it. Of course I had to get Callian to make sure you were unconscious. Really unconscious I mean - not just half asleep like you usually are. He said it was difficult, and anyone else would have probably died considering how deeply he stilled your mind, but he was confident you’d remember nothing. Otherwise who knows how badly you might have reacted.’

  Dale stayed beneath the covers, doubting he could ever look Charie in the eye again. He wondered how she’d managed to bathe him as she barely came up to his shoulder even when she was wearing shoes and he knew it must have been a difficult task for her when he was unconscious. He blushed darkly as he imagined her washing him, but he found himself captivated by the thought of Charie’s pretty freckled face leaning over him and her white blond hair tickling his skin as she touched him. Eibhear laughed aloud and Dale flung the covers away in annoyance.

  Eibhear shrugged apologetically. ‘I’m sorry Dale. I’m sure you meant to keep that thought private!’

  Dale stared at him as conflicting emotions ripped through his heart. ‘Eibhear, can you call her back?’

  ‘That I can do,’ said Eibhear confidently. A minute later Charie appeared once again, looking a little confused but also pleased. ‘I’ll take your pack to the ship, Dale,’ said Eibhear casually. He closed the door as he left.

  ‘Are you still too weak to bathe?’ asked Charie.

  ‘No. I think I could bathe myself,’ Dale admitted. His heart beat a little faster as he gazed at her. Her hands looked like they had been hastily washed and he could tell she had been working with flour. There were traces of something oily on her apron. He reached up and took her hand, pulling her closer to the bed. ‘I just wanted you to do it,’ he finally admitted, looking warily into her eyes.

  She smiled at him and blushed deeply. ‘I’d like that,’ she replied in a whisper. With utmost care she removed his night shirt. She picked up a washcloth, rinsed it in the water and began to wash his body. He watched her intently as she worked. Eventually he reached out and dragged her down until her face was inches from his own.

  ‘Now what?’ he murmured.

  ‘I should finish bathing you and then I have to go,’ she said, as unexpected tears filled her eyes. ‘Dale this can’t happen.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because you’re a Baron and I’m a kitchen maid, and you have to go back to Emerald, and I have to stay here.’

  ‘Embrace me, and then I’ll let you go,’ he whispered.

  ‘You will?’ she asked seriously.

  ‘I will,’ he replied with equal solemnity. ‘But don’t embrace me unless you want to.’

  ‘Oh I want to, Dale, more than you imagine,’ she murmured. She lay down on the bed and cuddled to his side, placing her head against his chest to listen to the sound of his heart.

  ‘You are so beautiful,’ said Dale softly, running his hand through her white hair. ‘So very beautiful...’

  ‘Time to go,’ she said, slipping from the bed. With gentle care she helped him dress. ‘I’ll send someone to remove the water. I have to get back to the kitchen.’

  ‘I have to go to Emerald,’ Dale said sadly, wishing she was coming with him. ‘Charie, I need...’

  ‘No. I don’t want to think about it. I just want to imagine for a moment that you really could be mine.’ She turned away and slipped out into the hallway.

  Chapter 6

  Qinel

  Kelian stared anxiously towards Qinel. The voyage from Castle had been uneventful, even boring and although he was eager to leave the ship, he felt uneasy about entering the settlement. He fidgeted uncomfortably as the longboat was prepared. It was very dark aboard the ship. All lamps had been extinguished and there was no moon behind the thick clouds. Very little light could be seen along the shore line. Timbul placed his hand on Kelian’s shoulder and Kelian acknowledged that it was time to go. He climbed into the longboat and held Elena’s hand, waiting impatiently for everyone else to climb into the little boat. The longboat was lowered and they set out towards the shore, with two skilled sailors manning the oars. They reached the breakers. The sailors pulled hard against the current and the boat crested a high wave. They seemed to hang midair for a second then the boat dropped into the wave and was driven forward. It raced towards the sand with the foaming water propelling it powerfully and came to a halt in the waves washing up on the beach.

  ‘That was surprising,’ Elena murmured, pleased to have remained dry. She had been certain the boat would capsize in the waves and they would need to swim for the shore. Those going ashore leapt from the boat and grabbed their packs. Without comment or delay the two sailors began rowing back towards the ship. They disappeared into the darkness in seconds.

  ‘Right, before we go into Qinel I want to reiterate a few things,’ said Kelian. Everyone moved closer and Elena took his hand. ‘We’ll remain here in Qinel tonight, and then we’ll set out for Numher tomorrow. I don’t want any unnecessary talk once we leave this beach. Borg, you will go ahead and find us somewhere suitably abandoned where we can rest for the night. Once we’re settled somewhere, Gilgarry and I will take the first watch, before we get some sleep.’ Kelian raised his hand as Timbul opened his mouth to speak. ‘Not this time, Tim. This time we do it my way. You and Mil will then keep guard and I want Callian and Araas to sneak around Qinel a bit. I’d prefer we seemed to be up to no good. It’s probably best if the wonderful citizens of this town get the wrong idea about who we are. Once Callian and Araas return, they can keep watch whilst Tim and Mil wander around for a while. Originally I wanted to do this without drawing any attention to ourselves, but I think that’s unrealistic. Let’s just try not to get into too much trouble. At no time are Elena, Immosey and Louisa to be left unguarded. Gil, if something goes badly wrong you will take your sisters and Administrator Tappy and get them back to Alkira by whatever means you can manage. Tappy, you will get as much sleep as you can. I know it’s unlikely in this town that we’ll be challenged by authorities, but we’ll need every bit of your considerable intellect if this does happen. Is everything clear?’ Everyone nodded. ‘Are there any questions?’ No one replied. ‘Good. We’ll wait here until you return, Borg.’ Borgulnay turned and made hi
s way across the sand towards the town.

  Even in the darkness, he could see that Qinel was a neglected settlement. The unpaved streets were filled with rubbish that had been thoughtlessly flung from doors and windows and there seemed no dearth of rats. Along the edges of the street there were small deposits of human and animal refuse and a repulsive stench saturated the air. A large number of buildings had been made with stone but were crumbling with age and exposure to the elements, and there were many abandoned huts on the outskirts of the town. One large, flat roofed building close to the center of the settlement was undamaged and it was surrounded by a stone wall. Borgulnay passed by what had been a tannery, turned a corner and entered a small doorway. Thinking to get high enough to see over the settlement, he climbed a set of stone stairs in a building that had once belonged to a cordwainer. The room at the top of the stairs no longer had a roof. Scraps of rough, faded leather littered the corners of the room. A small, high bench was the only standing piece of furniture. On the bench was an old wooden last and the handle of what Borgulnay supposed had been the cordwainer’s half-moon knife. He moved across the room to a window overlooking the walled building. From this height he could see that a number of rooms in the building were lit with wall lamps, but he could see no-one moving about inside. His gaze fell to the grounds around the building. Several men carrying crossbows appeared to be guarding the premises and a few large dogs were loose in the area between the wall and the building. As Borgulnay watched, a door at the front of the building opened and a man walked towards the gates which led onto the street. He spoke to one of the guards. The guard gave a sharp whistle, and the dogs sprang across the ground and followed him into the shadows. Borgulnay lost sight of them as they disappeared behind the building. He was about to leave when a flash of movement caught his eye. Directly below where he stood a man’s head appeared over the wall. Borgulnay stepped away from the window. He cursed under this breath and was about to make a dash from the building when something registered in his mind. The face was familiar. He stood torn between the desire to leave in a hurry and the need to find out whose face was climbing over the wall surrounding what appeared to be a guarded fortress. Curiosity won. He moved back into the darkest corner of the room where he was well hidden by the work bench. He drew his knife and crouched, balancing his weight so as to be able to spring forward in a hurry, should the need arise.

  The man climbed onto the top of the wall and stood up. He leaned forward until he was falling towards the window of the room in which Borgulnay was hiding. Without as much as a whisper of sound, he caught the ledge and pulled himself through the window. He slid headfirst towards the floor and pulled himself forward with his hands. Borgulnay held his breath as the man dragged his legs through the window and stood up. Still making no sound, the man turned towards the stairs. He had almost reached the stairs when he stopped. He turned slowly towards the work bench. Borgulnay gripped his knife and leaned forward, standing upright as the man reached under his dark cloak and drew a knife from a leather shoulder sheath. There was a pause for a fraction of a second, as Borgulnay desperately tried to see the man’s face, then the man leapt towards him. Borgulnay dived sideways and rolled towards the stairs with the thought that whoever this man was, he obviously wished to leave the fortified building undetected, so there was a good chance he would not wish to be seen in the street. Borgulnay swiftly regained his footing. He had no desire to kill the man unless he was left with no choice. The man was faster than Borgulnay anticipated and managed to block the stairs. Borgulnay sighed as the man raised his knife and advanced. The man lashed out and Borgulnay sidestepped.

  ‘Please don’t make me kill you,’ he said softly. The man froze. The knife slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor. ‘Good,’ said Borgulnay. ‘Now move away from the stairs. I will leave and you will never see me again.’

  The man didn’t move. He stood staring towards Borgulnay as if frozen.

  ‘If you don’t move away from the stairs, I’ll have to move you,’ said Borgulnay, feeling confused by the man’s lack of action. ‘Please don’t doubt that I can.’

  The man still didn’t move.

  ‘Move away from the stairs,’ Borgulnay commanded with a little more force.

  ‘Borg?’ the man questioned.

  It was Borgulnay’s turn to freeze. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘I’m Evan of Highview.’

  ‘You’ve got to be joking!’ Borgulnay stepped forward and peered at the man’s face in the darkness. His jaw dropped. ‘What in the name of His Supreme Majesty are you doing in Qinel?’

  ‘I was about to ask you the same question.’

  ‘You’ll have to ask Kelian.’

  ‘Kelian is here in Qinel?’ Evan’s voice rose in dismay. ‘Why would anyone in their right mind bring the King of Alkira here? Are you out of your mind Colonel?’

  ‘Why would an Alkiran soldier be climbing over the walls of what looks like a thieves’ fortress?’

  ‘Can I explain to Kelian?’

  ‘I certainly hope you can. Follow me.’ Borgulnay led the way down the stairs to the street. He made a wide circle around the fortified building keeping to the smaller, darker streets. Few structures appeared to be entirely intact even in the center of the settlement. Many had old oilskin sheets stretched across the top to keep out the rain and blowing sand, and some had boards placed atop the stone walls and weighed down by large stones. There was a decrepit tavern near to the center of the settlement. It was surrounded by structures which were used as stalls during the daylight hours, but were unattended at night. The tavern was dimly lit and Borgulnay could see into the windows. He was not particularly surprised by the scene inside. The patrons were mostly rough and bleak looking men who appeared to be drinking only for the sake of seeing how much drink they could consume. Among them sat a small number of less inebriated men who appeared to have some wits about them. Their eyes roved around the room watchfully. Several scantily and gaudily dressed women lounged among the patrons. Borgulnay could see from their expressions they were bored and miserable and probably felt trapped in this town. There were only a few other women in the tavern. They also seemed resigned to their fate as they sat alongside men who were probably their husbands. In a corner of the tavern a group of dirty, undernourished children were playing on the floor with a few filthy, broken toys.

  Borgulnay pulled his hood low over his face as they made their way up a small dark street. The buildings on the street were almost all abandoned, but he continued searching until he found one that didn’t look like it was about to fall down. It was on the very outskirts of the settlement where the buildings met the forest.

  ‘Wait here while I get the others,’ instructed Borgulnay.

  ‘Others? Other than Kelian?’

  ‘Quite a few others. Get a fire going.’

  Borgulnay made his way back to the beach and soon everyone was hidden inside the small, dirty, hut. In a low whisper Borgulnay described what he had seen. ‘And the last and strangest thing was having Evan climb over the wall into the very room in which I was hiding,’ he finished.

  ‘What exactly are you doing here in Qinel,’ Kelian asked Evan.

  ‘May I speak with you alone Majesty?’ asked Evan. Kelian nodded and Evan followed him from the hut. Callian shadowed them and Evan made no objection to his presence.

  ‘So what brings you to this delightful place? Kelian prompted.

  ‘I was sent here to complete a mission which was given to me by your father and by the Empress of Tatharlia.’

  Kelian was silent as he digested that information. ‘What exactly do you do Evan?’

  ‘I do whatever the King of Alkira and the Empress of Tatharlia tell me to do. It’s a strange arrangement, but it was actually quite simple how it came about. My mother’s sister is the wife of Captain Mercah. He’s-’

  ‘I know the Captain,’ Kelian interrupted. ‘Go on.’

  ‘Well, when I was training as a Private at Highview, we had
a visit from Aunt Leana. She works in the Sanctuary in Tathra. She’s in charge of making sure everything runs smoothly; a bit like one of our supervising servants. Emperor Alem sent her to King Dannicus with the idea of having two people - one from Tatharlia and one from Alkira - to do any special jobs that involved both countries. He wanted someone who had military training, but was willing to do what was required in secrecy. Your father asked my father who he thought was the right person for the job and well, here I am.’

  ‘What kind of special jobs?’

  ‘Most of the time that means I have to sort out some kind of problem where both countries are involved. Like here in Qinel. The building Borgulnay described in the center of the settlement is occupied by a man called Rassut. People around here call the place Rassut’s Noose because people seem to go inside and are never seen again. No-one wants to be caught in Rassut’s Noose.’

  ‘Rassut. That’s an Alkiran name.’

  ‘It is. He’s originally from Storm Haven, and used to take goods from Tatharlia to sell in the eastern Alkiran cities. As far as we can tell, most of what he sold was stolen. Until recently his crimes haven’t been significant enough to draw attention to himself. But about a year ago his activities took a more sinister turn. When Emperor Alem died and Cahndrech became Empress she asked me to continue to try to unravel what he’s up to.’

  ‘You said that two people were chosen; one from Alkira and one from Tatharlia.’ Kelian looked questioningly at Evan.

  ‘Khimerahd. She disappeared into that building two nights ago and I haven’t seen her since,’ said Evan sounding deeply troubled.

  ‘And what happened, that Empress Cahndrech asked you to continue this work?’

  ‘Actually, your father sent word that some odd things were happening, all of which pointed to Rassut. Anyone who accused him of selling stolen goods turned up dead, then he moved his base to Ramasp then to Orapba, and now they’re here in Qinel and everyone who had previously worked for him has disappeared.’

 

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