Lord of Fire: #1 The Fire Chronicles

by Susi Wright

  ‘Can I ride it, right now?’ was the next demand. They should have expected that. They exchanged an anxious glance, Chadren clinging tenuously to his control over the outcome of the situation.

  ‘We will see, my dear! But we need to make certain of a few things first.’

  Zaf called out, greeting Simban and introducing his employer, and Fralii. Simban responded amicably, ‘Greetings, sirs and mistress! Have you come to view my samblar colt?’

  Unable to contain her excitement, Fralii rushed forward, causing the animal to rear in fright. Simban easily controlled the situation, but not before Chadren already regretted considering a young mount at all. In up to his elbows by now, and against his better judgement, he resolved to keep an open mind, for the moment anyway.

  Fralii was already stroking the sleek black coat, and it was somewhat reassuring to see that in the capable hold of Simban, the animal seemed calm and seemed to be enjoying the gentle attention.

  ‘We are interested to find a future mount for my daughter, though at present she is inexperienced… you understand?’ He looked pointedly at the young black colt, with a doubtful frown.

  Fralii interrupted, ‘But, Father, I know I can ride this one! See how much he likes me already!’ The animal seemed to add weight to that comment with a friendly, gentle nudge at Fralii’s arm, laying its large head affectionately against her cheek, as if knowing its character was under scrutiny.

  ‘Please, Father? He is so beautiful!’ Fralii turned her most appealing violet gaze on her wavering father.

  Simban ventured politely, ‘I am happy to offer a trial… under my supervision perhaps?’ He was keen for a sale, badly needing the money after his family had lost many of their good stock in the recent raids. Tragically, his father had been killed last month, and his grieving mother wanted to sell everything and move to the city. Sadly, he could not afford to keep the herd himself.

  ‘Well… I suppose…’ Chadren sounded unsure, but seeing his weakness, Fralii pressed her opportunity. ‘Please, Father, please? I promise I will listen to instructions!’

  Unable to devise an exit strategy, and with more than a little trepidation, Chadren agreed to the trial, and within seconds, Fralii was astride the large black samblar, being led around the pen by the capable Simban, the colt’s energetic, bouncing stride immediately filling its rider with delight.

  ‘Oh, Father, I want this one! It needs to be mine!’ she gushed. Her excitement gave the animal momentum, and it pranced on the spot, though fully under Simban’s control. Chadren was quick to admonish Fralii in this instance, ‘You know, Fralii, it is very different, riding by yourself. Zaf and I do not have the time on the road, or the experience to train a young samblar… Maybe… if we can work out an agreeable price,’ this he directed at Simban, ‘we can leave it here for further training, until we come back next time?’ Simban smiled and nodded his agreement.

  After a suitable trial, Chadren convinced Fralii to dismount, so they could discuss the details, knowing at this point, there would be no going back, or sending Fralii off for refreshments while the men finished the business arrangements. The three accompanied Simban to his tent. Simban’s price was reasonable, for the animal and three months’ additional training. During the discussion, he had explained his circumstances. He would be able to give his mother most of the proceeds, and help his brother to sell the rest of the herd in the next few months.

  They agreed on a deposit to secure the sale, and a promissory note from Simban to complete the work. They were just about to shake hands on the deal, when a dishevelled youth burst unceremoniously into the tent, startling them all. Simban obviously recognised the boy, who looked to be about fourteen years old.

  ‘What are you doing here, Deven? Whatever is the matter? You are supposed to be—’

  ‘Simban, it’s bad!’ the agitated boy exclaimed, the agony of despair was etched on his face. ‘They have burned our camp and taken the rest of the herd. Three days ago! There were too many of them. I had to get Mother away to safety! We hid in the caves until night. When they had gone, we went on foot to the road. A wagoner brought us into the city. Mother is exhausted, I left her resting at the inn. She has not taken things well. Oh, Simban! Now we have nothing. I could not do a thing!’ He slumped hopelessly down on a floor cushion, his head in his hands. ‘I gave the last of our coin to the innkeeper, and it will only suffice for one or two more nights’ lodging! Then what?’

  Simban, obviously the older of the two brothers, first politely apologised to Chadren’s group for the interruption, before trying to console his distraught sibling. ‘I am sure the fault is not yours, Deven! But where was our herdsman?’

  ‘I do not know! He did nothing to protect us and I thought I saw him riding off with the thieves! Do you think he was in on it?’ The young boy was close to tears.

  Simban looked thoughtful as he turned his attention back to Chadren and his companions, realising it would be timely to seal the deal and let his customers go on their way before trying to solve his own problems. He shook Chadren’s hand, exchanged the promissory note for the coin, and bid them farewell until their next meeting here in three months’ time.

  As they turned to leave, Fralii tugged on her father’s sleeve, as if to say something, but he silenced her with a stern look which he seldom used, ushering her quickly out of the tent. ‘Time is pressing! It is not our concern. We must return home to prepare for tomorrow!’ And they left the two young men to their sad business.

  Later that evening at the marketplace, picking up the last of the supplies and packing the wagons, Chadren commented to Zaf, ‘In truth, I am concerned about Simban… what he will do now. It is not my business, but I think he should have a way to contact us. Much could change for him now, and his poor mother and brother!’

  Zaf agreed it might be wise to let Simban know that he could find knowledge of their route through Runo, offering to take the message to Simban’s tent before they left the marketplace.

  In the evening, after preparations for the journey were completed, Chadren and his family were enjoying their meal and recounting the events of the day. Fralii chattered on about her new samblar, how black and beautiful he was, how she wished they could have taken the animal with them this very morning, how his name was Spirit, how Simban had explained samblars were traditionally named according to their characters. Chadren mused to himself how the name certainly suited that one! Then, again turning his thoughts to the misfortune of Simban’s family, he voiced his growing concern. ‘You know, Runo, I wish I could do more to help them. I have handed over the first payment, but what will they do when that runs out? Staying at the inn is expensive, the next payment is not due until we return, after the training!’

  Runo was silent, apparently deep in thought, giving Chadren the impression he had not been following the conversation, but a moment later, he cleared his throat and spoke. ‘Well, I might have an idea… For some time now, I have been thinking about getting a live-in housekeeper. I have the spare room out the back. These days, I cannot manage everything… the warehouse… and clean this large house, cook for myself. I can afford it… do you think Simban’s mother would consider secure employment? I can also use a hand in the warehouse. The lads sound like they are used to hard work. But I only need one, possibly the younger brother. Perhaps Simban could find extra work in town, he could keep Fralii’s samblar in my stables while he trains it. What do you think?’

  ‘A possibility… but we are out of time tonight. We must get some rest now,’ Chadren stated. Runo agreed, suggesting he send a messenger with his offer in the morning, and easily deal with the arrangements himself.

  Fralii, who had been politely quiet for some time, added hopefully, ‘Could we not make our journey a little shorter this time, Father? If we returned early, perhaps Spirit would be ready, and we could pay Simban the sooner.’ At the heart of it, she was mainly interested and impatient to collect her new pet.

  Ignoring her pouting, and brooking no a
rgument this time, Chadren explained how necessary to their livelihood was this last lucrative summer trade, to complete the round trip before winter, when roads could become impassable. They would not be able to trade again until spring. With that, they all retired for the night.

  Chapter Four

  In the cooler mist of predawn, Chadren, Fralii, and Zaf climbed aboard the wagons. The samblars had been hitched up for half an hour already, occasionally stamping their hooves, eager to be moving. Runo opened the heavy wooden gates onto the quiet street, the small caravan set out on the long familiar journey north, and as the sun rose, they were already furlongs from Splendo city along the main route west to the crossroads.

  It was their habit to rest in the shade at midday when it was hottest, at a woodland stream where they could water the samblars. When they reached the crossroads, they would be leaving the main road and turning north, where the terrain would become less hospitable, their progress slower, so stopping for rests would be kept to a minimum. With this in mind, Chadren allowed them to linger in this pleasant spot for an hour longer.

  Just then, Zaf, who had been re-hitching the wagons close to the road, called out that he could see a rider in the distance. They were always alert to the possibility of thieves on their travels, having been robbed several times over the years, and things had gotten worse recently as many more bands of raiders and desperate individuals roamed the countryside, like the ones who had been attacking the samblar herders. It almost seemed like an organised enterprise, the regularity and similarity of the attacks. On their guard, they moved out onto the road, Zaf with his bow at the ready, riding the rear of the second wagon while Chadren and Fralii each took the reins of a cart, up front. They were all tense as the rider appeared to be approaching at a very fast pace. They hoped it was just a common messenger carrying an urgent missive to the next town, who would gallop harmlessly past them. Zaf squinted into the distance.

  As the rider came closer, Zaf exclaimed, ‘It is Simban, on that black samblar! He is waving us down! Should we pull up?’ Chadren and Fralii slowed the hectic jog of their samblars to a halt, relieved they were not about to be robbed. Fralii leapt down from the driver’s seat, above all delighted to see Spirit again.

  Simban reined in his panting, sweat-flecked mount, which had obviously been ridden at full gallop for quite some distance.

  ‘Is there an emergency?’ asked Chadren, worried that something had happened to Runo.

  ‘No, sir, but do need to talk with you urgently! Firstly… thank you! For the help you have given my family. My mother and brother now have a safe home, and income. In return, I wish to offer my services to you, no extra pay… labouring, second guard, in addition to helping with the animals… anything you wish! I do not have need, nor wish to stay in the city now. It would be a way to continue the work I love, with samblars. It is all I have ever known! Please let me join you! I can hunt and have extra supplies to last awhile. I can work hard for the rest! I am used to sleeping rough. I am already in your employ training the colt… if I accompany you, I can also give Fralii riding lessons as we travel!’ His wide, genuine brown eyes entreated a favourable response.

  ‘Well, you seem to have cooked up a convincing offer, young man!’ conceded Chadren. ‘I admit we probably need extra guard on the wagons, more so when we return loaded with gems!’ And, remembering his own secret fears, from the night Zula died, he added darkly, ‘You never know what is out there!’

  Chapter Five

  With Simban as part of their company, the journey continued relatively without incident for a few weeks. The only tense moments had been a couple of sightings of zabuks, but with plentiful prey out on the plains, the beasts had fortunately kept their distance. Fralii’s riding instruction had initially gone well, but with the improvement of her skills, she had become much more demanding for excitement in the exercise. Customarily, Simban would spend a few hours each day on the road, riding and training the young samblar, and a few more teaching Fralii to ride him at a steady pace alongside the wagons. Sometimes when they stopped a little earlier to camp for the night, he would take Fralii further afield, aboard the grey samblar, and he would ride the young one, taking short canters around the camp for a while before dusk. For days, Fralii had been pestering Simban to let her ride Spirit on these forays, ‘When will it be? You promised soon!’ and repeating daily, ‘I can ride now, I do not need any more lessons!’ challenging Simban at every turn, ‘Spirit is quiet, now. You see me riding and handling him perfectly, every day!’

  Chadren had been quite impressed at the patience and immovability which Simban had exhibited towards these unending demands. He was very pleased he had employed the young man for the job! He knew from his own experience what resilience was needed to resist Fralii’s headstrong nature. He had weakened many times himself.

  One morning, however, an extremely concerning incident did manifest itself, causing a great upheaval, when the men woke to find Fralii and Spirit, both gone.

  ‘By the Ancestors! I could almost have predicted this!’ Chadren exclaimed, beside himself with worry. ‘Why did we not hear the bells?’ Chadren had given everyone permission to sleep in this remote place, setting up an elaborate rope-and-bell alarm around the camp, which had worked well in the past. They all needed sleep, with the next day promising to be particularly arduous and long, with difficult terrain, first dry and rocky, then marshy with a high likelihood they would have to dig out the bogged wagons more than once. They were also scheduled to arrive at a major town that night, their camp on the outskirts more vulnerable to marauders and needing to be properly guarded all night, followed by a busy day of trading with the merchants there. At night, the bells were not visible, hidden in the bushes, easily set off by wild animals or an unsuspecting thief. Any extra movement of the samblars would do the same. Chadren was completely puzzled how someone could have found and disabled it. He was terrified Fralii might have been kidnapped, and the samblar stolen.

  Simban wasted no time, quickly astride the grey animal, ready to track and rescue Fralii, feeling somewhat responsible as Fralii was usually in his care. He set off at a brisk pace easily following the fresh single samblar tracks in the moist earth near the camp. He announced over his shoulder as he went, ‘She has gone off on her own! There are no other tracks, man or beast!’ None of them knew if that boded more ill than any other scenario.

  The other two men stayed to guard the wagons; the remaining samblar was old and far too slow to carry either of them and keep up with Simban, who had managed to encourage his mount to a reasonable pace. He had gone no further than two furlongs when he encountered Fralii, returning full gallop no less, her black hair streaming behind her, whooping in delight as she urged Spirit to breakneck speed across an open meadow, until she spotted her teacher and knew she would be in trouble. She had obviously misjudged how long she had been gone, thinking she could return to camp while everyone was still sleeping and none the wiser to her escapade!

  Slowing her pace with difficulty, catching her breath and attempting to avoid a tongue-lashing, she tossed her hair back from where it tangled in disarray across her flushed face, and gushed loudly across the distance, ‘Look, Simban! He does everything I ask… he looks after me! I can control him!’ She smiled unsurely at him, as the excited samblar was still covering ground far too quickly, heady from the run.

  Unaffected by her gabbling, Simban urged his mount forward and intercepted her, grabbing the reins to bring Spirit to an immediate halt. He leapt to the ground, silently and sternly offering her his hand to dismount from the snorting black samblar. She sheepishly complied, his stony expression speaking volumes, knowing she was now also in trouble with her father, and they exchanged mounts to return to camp, where she would face Chadren’s annoyance. Punishment was never severe; she did not fear her father, but her pride did not like the reprimand at all.

  Chapter Six

  (Year 857)

  Chadren’s caravan had continued trading quite profita
bly on the same route between Splendo and the far Northern Mountains, for another two years, though this life was never easy. They had narrowly escaped being robbed several times, thanks to the fighting skills of Zaf and Simban, and frequently had to kill starving zabuks when they stalked the samblars during the leaner months of autumn. Luckily, no worse monsters, such as the rare and deadly winged kudros, had been seen for many years, not by anyone, and it was generally hoped that after relentless hunting by professional animal-cullers, they were at last extinct.

  This year, however, inclement weather and flooding during the week had dictated they take an alternate road back to Splendo, no less hazardous and considerably longer than normal. As evening drew in, Chadren had as usual directed the small company to camp some way off the road on the edge of a woodland, so their wagons and fire were out of sight. While the men were setting up camp, Fralii went a short way into the trees to answer the call of nature and collect kindling for the campfire. That evening, she would make a stew from dried bovino-meat and yams. Her stomach was rumbling as she thought of it.

  Arms full of kindling, she was hurrying as darkness was falling, when suddenly something swooped down out of the trees and knocked her face-down in the leaves. Winded and frightened, imagining all kinds of wild beasts, Fralii lay very still.

  Somersaulting to regain equilibrium, and landing in a crouch nearby, Luminor warred with himself whether to keep flying and easily remain undetected, or to see if the girl was hurt, or worse still, dead. Altor, chasing his brother in a cloak-flying exercise, had seen the fall and quickly hid in a tree. Trying to detect the girl’s breath, Luminor was poised for flight, waiting for the least sign that he could leave without guilt. Suddenly, Fralii lifted her head, staring back at him with huge, startled violet eyes. For a few dangerous seconds, he stared back, completely mesmerised, before shaking himself to action since she appeared unhurt, and running off into the trees out of sight. He had decided flying would frighten her more, and besides, he could run pretty fast.