The Gods' Games Volume 1 & 2: Graphic Edition (The Gods' Games Series)
Page 52
“What in Shol was that?” Ben demanded angrily. He didn’t mean to sound so mad but his whole body was searing in pain and his nerves had already been fried from the encounter with the jare.
The elf jumped from surprise, obviously not expecting Ben to be there, and laughed nervously. “Ah – mikau. He just woke up; I reckon I thought he’d be a tad drowsier.”
Ben looked at him alarmed; he didn’t like how unsure this elf sounded. He knew what a mikau was; they had been talked about a lot in Lelan. They were a breed of large cat that were native to Lelan Island and raised and bred in the holds. They were supposed to be domesticated but twice as big as a male lion. The Lelanders actually rode them and had been riding them when the patrol had rescued Teal and Malagant from the blizzard.
“He… he should calm down a little after he’s fed,” the elf said hastily. He sounded as if he was saying this more to reassure himself than Ben.
The elf ran over to the long brick fireplace, three times the size of a regular one, and grabbed a small bundle wrapped in green cloth.
“Here mikau kau!” the elf sang. He unwrapped the bundle and pulled out a chunk of red meat. He waved it around and started making clicking and kissing noises with his mouth.
“Oh, here he comes!” he said after several moments of coaxing.
Ben looked behind the elf to the opened door he had run from, and saw a dinner plate-size paw step into the main part of the room.
It was a magnificent creature; Ben could see why the Lelan prized them so much. He was silver, almost blue, with a face that resembled a panther and the body structure of a lion. He even had a faint mane that covered his neck and the top of his head, and thicker fur around its paws which Ben assumed was for trudging through snow.
The mikau looked at the elf waving around the meat, before his sapphire-coloured eyes looked past him to Ben. He swished a lion-like tail before taking a step forward.
He was incredible; he looked wise and all-knowing, and as the elf threw him the piece of meat Ben immediately wished he could own one himself.
“There you go, crabby,” the elf said in an annoyed tone. It seemed that he didn’t share the same awing respect and impulse to worship this creature that Ben did. “You eat and go back to your bed. We have guests now.”
The mikau took a step forward, his furry feet not making the slightest sound, and took the meat into his jaws. Then he turned around and walked back into the second room.
“We get jare cats and the Lelan get those beautiful creatures? I think we got the short end of the stick,” Ben found himself commenting. He rubbed one of his throbbing chest wounds feeling rather disgruntled at that realization.
The elf laughed. “I have to agree with you on that one. That’s Miro, he belongs to a Lelander. He got attacked by an accalite a couple days ago. He’s doing just fine now; the fur has already started healing over his leg wound.” Then the elf clapped his hands together and smiled at Ben. “My apologies I should’ve introduced myself. I’m Torasen, your physician. I see you got attacked, but you’re still standing so that’s splendid.”
“Female jare. I got the antidote in me but she made a mess of my chest and broke my arm,” Ben said as he removed his cloak and pulled down his jerkin.
Torasen visibly winced as he looked at him. “Females can be a challenge can’t they?” He walked over and started feeling Ben’s arm. “It looks like this was set properly at least and –” The physician started unwrapping Ben’s bandages and nodded as he poked and prodded the stitches. “– yes, moonsilk. Good. Moonsilk is the best for wounds but it’s expensive. I’ll re-bandage these and I’d rather you stay in here for a few days so I can keep an eye on you. Antidote is wonderful but it can still fill your lungs with all sorts of shek, better safe than on the floor coughing up foam.”
Ben sighed at this, though it was what it was. “I’m used to staying in healing wings at least, so there isn’t a problem.”
“Good. At least you’re not like some of the elves I get here. They want to impress someone or something so they prance out of here declaring they’re right as rain, then the next thing you know their carcasses are in my backroom getting dissected for research. Idiots, but well, at least they became useful once they died,” Torasen said with a rather evil smirk. “I’ll go find you some tonic, it’ll ease the pain I know you’re in. What’s your name there, friend?”
“Ben,” Ben replied.
“Ben?” Torasen repeated. “That’s unusual, is it Karissian?”
Ben shook his head, falling once again into routine. “Nah, I’m from Galan.”
“Ahhh,” Torasen said with a nod. “Well, I like it. My wife is with child. We’ve been wanting to name it something unique. We may just be stealing it from you.”
“Suited me fine, go ahead,” Ben said back, secretly hoping the physician did. It would be neat to integrate his name into the names of Alcove. At least if he failed as a prophecy walker he’d still be able to leave an imprint on the world.
The physician then grabbed a luma lamp and disappeared into one of the back rooms, returning a few moments later with a cup of off-blue liquid.
“Drink this up, it will take the pain away,” Torasen said handing it to him. Ben smiled, wanting badly to make the comment regarding the potency of earth’s painkillers, but he of course didn’t. He took the cup with his good arm and drank it in one gulp. He shuddered and made a face.
Torasen laughed; he patted the pillow. “Now lay down, my friend. This stuff works quickly and if it’s your first dose it’ll make you sleepy as well. A good rest will do wonders for you and you look like you need it.”
“Thank you,” Ben said, yawning as if on cue. “I appreciate your help and your hospitality; it’s been a long journey.”
“I’m happy to be of help to you.” Torasen smiled. He picked up the luma lamp on the night stand beside Ben and patted him on the shoulder. “If you need anything, just call me. I sleep above this room during my time here and I’m a light sleeper.”
Ben nodded as his eyes started to droop. He could feel the dull ache that he was so used to feeling start to drip away from his body. It wasn’t the same as the opiates but it certainly was doing the job.
Ben was about to say thank you again but found he was too drowsy. He closed his eyes and leaned back in the bed, seeing the light of the luma lamp through his closed eyelids start to fade away.
Ben was awoken sometime later. At first he wasn’t sure what had woken him but then his ears picked up a low rumbling noise.
“Will you hush, Miro?” a male voice whispered; the rumbling continued.
“Who’s there?” Ben sat up rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The walls around him were waving with the reflections of the flickering flames, bathing the entire room in a warm orange glow. He squinted and looked around and spotted two silhouettes in the far corner.
“Look what you did, you woke him up, can you not purr quietly?” the elf hissed. Then a torch lit up, revealing the silhouettes of a Lelander and the mikau, though Ben’s eyes immediately squinted shut from the bright flame.
“Sorry, friend. My mikau hasn’t seen me for several days and he gets a bit excited,” the Lelander said, and, as if he knew he was being mentioned, the mikau chirped and purred louder.
“What are you doing?” Ben asked, his eyes beginning to adjust to the torch light. The Lelander had a hand on the mikau’s head, petting his round ears and playing with the tufts of silver hair that was his mane.
But as Ben looked closer he realized he recognized the Lelander. It was Tass, Korivander’s squire and the elf who had brought him inside Lelan Castle.
“Oh, you’re Ben!” Tass exclaimed before Ben could voice that he too recognized him. “I was wondering if I would out run you. Are you all right?”
Ben nodded, his chest wounds starting to ache the more awake he got. “Attacked by a jare,” Ben said, the corner of his mouth twitching down. “What are you doing all the way in Rhastt?”
�
��I was here visiting an elf I’ve come to fancy,” Tass said with a crooked smile, a blush came to his cheeks, “then Miro got hurt. While I was here I got a summons from Gorat with an important letter for my king. He’s calling an emergency council meeting regarding what he thinks was the assassination of Hold Lord Ahren, Lordling Viradin, and Lady Taelie, plus other members working under the lord.” A grim look crossed his face. “With this new wave of hostility… who knows we might just be seeing a rebellion. Could you imagine?” Tass’s eyes lit up at this.
Ben’s stomach knotted at the thought. Just thinking of crossing Alcove with a rebellion going on made him sick. “You really think Lord Gorat might start a new resistance?”
“I’m not sure but with this recent news… perhaps it’s the last straw for my king and the lords and ladies of Alcove,” Tass replied. “I’ll be heading back to Lelan and bringing King Korivander here. He has his own mikau which is Miro’s sister; he’ll be fast. I believe the rest of the royal family is coming on mikaus as well. We’ll also be sending falcons to try and find the other lords and highborns. We’ll be able to catch them on the road on the way back from the festival we just threw so… this meeting won’t take long to organize. Thank Lelander.”
Tass began to lead Miro to the door, as he passed Ben he gave him a confident smile. “Take care and heal quickly, Ben,” he said. “I’ll be back soon. I’d love to see you outside of a healing wing.”
Ben chuckled and inclined his head to Tass. “I would as well. May Lelander guide you and quicken your pace. Take care, Tass.”
Tass inclined his head back too, before he rested a hand on Miro’s head and lead him out the door.
On the Black Road
It was a few hours before dusk when Tseer appeared with a puff of black smoke several paces away from the camp he had been directed to. Tseer knew from the cypress trees and marshy ground that he was in east Alcove.
The bounty hunter looked around and sniffed the air. Then started walking in the direction he knew the camp would be in. He had learned from his years of teleporting that it was best to appear out of sight from non-malkahs; it usually made their skin crawl.
Tseer tightened his grasp on the chain that led to the tied-up Taelie. The little bitch wasn’t going to go anywhere, but he knew enough about hibrids to be cautious. They were powerful demi-elves and not to be underestimated. Taelie had shown no sign of being able to use magic but the moment you let your guard down was the moment you lost your prisoner.
And Tseer was too close to finishing the task set out for him – too close to getting Tsoren back and stealing everything from the elf who had enslaved him.
Tseer pulled on the chain and walked towards the captain’s camp. He could see half a dozen canvases and tents set up around the cypress trees, all with King Erick’s draken sigil sewn into the heavy canvas material. In the middle of the camp were several fires, most with meat roasting on them and pots of porridge; they were being minded by young soldiers who hadn’t yet earned their keep.
“Someone take the girl and put her some place secure,” Tseer said loudly.
Every Serpent paused and looked in Tseer’s direction, matching expressions of surprised on all of their faces. They seemed shocked at Tseer’s sudden appearance, and for good reason, every Serpent camp had ten patrols all walking in carefully planned out paths so no one could come into the camp unannounced.
“Syr Tseer?” one of the elves said, surprised. He was dressed in soldier garb, a shirt of light mail and a black tunic with a red linen shirt underneath; his cape also held a stripe of red on it, showing he was of some advanced status.
Alcove’s colours were green and blue, but it was black and red for the Draken King. The Serpent soldiers seemed to darken the landscape like threatening shadows which was, most likely, what King Erick wanted.
“We’ve been scouting, waiting for your arrival,” another elf, this one looking to be a lower rank, said. “How did you…?”
The higher ranking one gave the soldier a frosted look. “He’s a malkah, you idiot; they can translocate,” he said lowly.
Tseer smirked and handed Taelie’s chain over to the lower ranking soldier. “Her brain is going to be fried from me translocating her, but she’ll be fine by the time we get to Azrayne,” he said. “Nevertheless, watch her, watch her closely, but don’t lay a hand on her.”
The small lady hibrid, her once blond curls matted and her face dirty and scratched up, walked slowly as the soldier tugged on her chain. She stared blankly ahead; her movements automatic and stiff, and the shackles around her wrists jingling as they rattled against the lead.
The higher ranking soldier looked her up and down and shook his head; he adopted a wistful look. “What I would give for the talents of a malkah. I can barely do firepalm.” Then he turned to Tseer as Taelie was led out of sight. “I’m the second-in-charge here, Syr Tseer. I’m Captain Vasser and these are my soldiers. General Vex is waiting for you in the captain’s tent.”
Tseer smirked as the soldier turned around and started leading him to a large tent with the draken flag flying in the windless winter day. “Syr? I haven’t had a title of such in a while. Who told you to call me that?”
Vasser turned around and gave him a surprised look. “The orders came from King Erick himself, Syr.”
“A bounty hunter has no need for such titles but I will take it no less,” Tseer said as they walked. Syr was meant for mages of a high rank, usually ones who were or had been in the king’s court, or had been specially given the title for some grand achievement. Tseer could argue that he was in the king’s service now but he still found no need for such a title. Titles drew attention to you and that was the last thing a Dashavian bounty hunter wanted.
But on the other hand, Tseer had been rotting in a dungeon getting raped daily, so a high title at this point was more of a safeguard than it was a hindrance.
The two of them walked into the impressive-looking tent. In front of them Tseer saw someone who, just from his clothing alone, he could tell was the general. He was wearing a black long coat with silver buttons down the front and an embroidered draken on the back and the left breast; only members of the royal army wore these jackets and they wore them with pride.
There was also a cloak clasped to his front over the jacket, whereas Vasser had one red stripe this one had two, another way to boast one’s status.
Tseer still found no need for such embellishment. If you took real pride in your job you should have no need to boast your rank. This, however, was only his personal belief, even the Dashavian military boasted ranks and the mages’ guild as well. Oh, they were even more horrible for that.
The general looked up at them as they entered. He was standing with several others behind a wooden table that held on it a map that took up the table’s entire length. The map, which seemed to be of a town, had pins with different-coloured flags, sticking into its thick parchment paper.
General Vex nodded at them. He was an elf, possible late thirties, with black hair cropped short on top of a square face and a firm jaw. His face held several scars and deep lines which told Tseer this general had seen a lot of battles. If one thing was for sure, General Vex had earned his place in the royal military. During Calin’s reign, some elves had bought their places in the military or had inherited it through their highborn blood, King Erick’s Serpents had earned their ranks through sweat and bloodshed. If there was one way to make a strong military it was to offer places to elves and ladyelves who had been shunned, exiled, stripped of rank, or imprisoned under Calin’s rule. And since the end of the Evercovian War, there were a lot of elves who had been on the losing side who were now chomping at the bit for vengeance.
Erick came at the right time… after the war ended and Calin had found out that many of his court were traitors, he burned a lot of them and exiled even more. Of course this didn’t sit well with a lot of Houses. They obviously defended their condemned and called them innocent, even if they knew they were gu
ilty. They didn’t want to lose their highborn status or the respect and pride they’d spent decades, centuries, building.
Though as Tseer looked at General Vex he realized he most likely wasn’t an exiled elf; he was from Dashavia or Xal’Crith. He had deep purple eyes and tanned skin, with a strong, muscular stature.
He was a feroe, a crossbreed of a Dashavian and a Crithian. They were a prized breed amongst the Dashavian and Crithian military and were said to be the chaylen children of Xalis and Darsheive themselves.
“Syr Tseer,” General Vex said. Sure enough, his deep and serious voice held a strong Crithian accent. He turned to the other Serpents who had been looking over the map with him. “Leave us.”
Obediently the knights left the tent, one of them even pulling on a small rope to close the tent flaps behind them.
“King Erick welcomes you and praises your success,” Vex said, lowering his head as a sign of respect.
Tseer couldn’t help but crack an amused smirk as the general’s head was lowered. It amused him to no end the change in treatment he had been getting since the priests had released him from the castle dungeons. No longer was he the ravaged prisoner, he was amongst the royal military and being called Syr.
I don’t care about all of this; I just want to get this done so I can rescue my son.
Then I can not only murder Marillion – slowly – I will own everything he owns and I will give Tsoren the life he deserves. The life his mother and I envisioned for him the day he was born.
Soon, Tseer Amaus, soon. The priests did a blood oath on Darsheive’s head. If I get them Philrick… I get Tsoren.
Finally.
So play along.
“I praise King Erick’s success. He is surely the greatest king Alcove has ever seen,” Tseer said, lowering himself onto one knee. He then stood and walked to the edge of the table and looked down at the map.
“What is our plan?” Tseer asked. To his surprise the map was of Azrayne.