by Ashley Capes
“That would be wonderful, Watcher,” Elina said.
“Peddyr has arranged for everything – she will take you to the river, where your friends are waiting.”
Never stood and reached out; they clasped hands. The Bleak Man’s skin was smooth but somehow had a deceptive depth to it.
He took them back to the bright clearing and across soft grass to a different opening, where the tall figure of Peddyr waited. “Go in safety, Amouni.”
“Thank you, Watcher,” he said. “I’ll try.”
The Bleak Man smiled.
“Follow me, please,” Peddyr said. She opened the door – which again, had no visible locks or handles – and lifted a lantern, leading them into the darkness. The passage was long.
“Are we close to the river?” Never asked.
“Not precisely.”
He sighed. “At least I’ll have the chance to stretch out my legs.”
When his legs had been stretched and then begun to tire, Peddyr brought them to another door at the end of the tunnel that held light beyond. This time it opened to a broad river that emerged from a towering hillside, its dark water glittering. Green banks stretched, along with flowing willows and white birch. A dock with polished wooden rails waited below a short flight of steps, where Luis and Karlaf waved to them.
Two boats, each loaded with provisions, bobbed in the water, their prows carved with leaves.
“Simply follow the current until it joins the Carene,” Peddyr explained.
“Thank you for everything,” Never said.
The woman gave a short bow. “Of course, Amouni.” Then she returned to the passage and Never started down the stone stair. City-Sedrin lay ahead. More answers or more secrets? Both, no doubt. Hope lurked within his chest – a tiny flower daring to open its petals to the sun.
The question was – could he let it?
“You’re rowing first, Never,” Elina said.
“Why don’t we throw for it? I have my brother’s dice,” he said. “They’re lucky.”
She raised her eyebrow. “Whose luck?”
River God
Book of Never
Three
Ashley Capes
Chapter 1.
The fine boat provided by the Bleak Man coasted along the dark water as if borne on wings. Green banks slid by almost lazily in the warm sunlight. Earlier that morning Never had wedged himself between stores in the stern, toying with Snow’s dice. Both yellowed with age and only one painted with plain Marlosi numbers – bold white strokes – the other, Amouni symbols.
One, a cut circle; something like two thumbs and forefingers spread apart, another image he thought of as the half-coiled serpent and of course, the familiar five-pointed leaf. There were others, more difficult to align with worldly things. But all had that ring of memory, a faint echo that brushed against his mind.
Taunting him with what he should have been able to recall.
But it was the Amouni die which won him the first rest upon leaving the Bleak Man. Not that he’d needed it truly; without the Moor-Sickness, his body’s natural healing was well in effect. And though there had been a few turns at the oar since then, Elina rowed now, using the current to their advantage.
Luis and Karlaf were pulling ahead, disappearing around a bend – willow branches trailing the water – green hair let loose on the summer breeze.
“That’s terrible rowing, My Lady,” he said. “They’re getting away.”
Elina paused. “What?”
“Luis and Karlaf.”
“It’s not a race.”
“Not at this rate it isn’t.”
“Then come and take over,” she snapped, glaring over her shoulder.
Never laughed, even as he raised his hands. “I apologise, but no thanks. I had my turn this morning.”
She went back to rowing, the patch of sweat between her shoulder blades growing. “Why do you care who reaches the Carene first? The river isn’t going anywhere.”
“I don’t – I’m just bored.”
Elina shook her head.
“What?”
“Nearly dying multiple times is better than this? The fever and Harstas? The disgusting leeches?” She heaved the oars. “Are you going to tell me you miss that?”
He tucked Snow’s dice into an inner pocket with a sigh. “No. I’m just not used to the idea of not running.” But it was nice not to have his blood boiling for a change.
Now all he had to worry about was Snow. Whatever his brother was up to, it wasn’t going to be easy for whoever stood in his way. And somehow, Snow was much further along the path of discovery than Never. Had he been to the Isle? He had to have been there, and then to the forest. Following the same clues as Never – only doing more with them, apparently. And just what were the artefacts he had taken from the Bleak Man?
“Try grow accustomed because once we’re in City-Sedrin, you’ll be quite bored. No-one will be trying to kill you.”
“That’s a week away yet.”
“Never, stop talking, will you?”
“Fine.” He leant his head back. The willow trees drifted at the edge of his vision, the sky blue overhead. A hawk or falcon shot across the sky; its cry answered somewhere in the distance.
“There,” Elina said. “Lonig is up ahead.”
Never straightened. Beyond a bend in the river, the willows had been cut back to allow for the construction of piers. Domed rooves of thatch stood on the banks beyond, raised on stilts. Green-clad people moved between the homes and small boats bobbed gently at the moorings. Others were returning, pulling in their nets from the morning catch, silver scales glittering.
Luis and Karlaf were nearing the pier.
“Are we stopping there?” Never asked.
“I’d like a short walk,” Elina said. “And news.”
“Good idea.”
The piers were lined with canoes, none of which were as large or well-crafted as the Bleak Man’s boats but they were well-cared for – and why not? The people of Lonig doubtless relied upon them for their livelihoods.
Karlaf and Luis were already tying their vessel when Elina slowed their boat then pulled up the oars. Never threw her a line and climbed the worn rope ladder to the pier.
“Thought we’d take a moment here,” Karlaf said. He had another honey-stick between his teeth. “My knees are complaining louder than usual.”
“Let’s meet the people of Lonig then,” Never said.
They moved between the huts; Never having to pause when a pair of children in flowing smocks dashed before him, shrieking with laughter. A dusty circle rested in the centre of the houses, in turn surrounding a large white stone. Two men stood before the stone – one tall and one heavy, both wearing frowns.
They stopped speaking when Never approached. “Greetings.”
The tall man nodded, casting a glance at each of them. The heavy man answered, “Welcome to Lonig.” His tone was not exactly unfriendly but nor was there much warmth to his words. Never deferred to Elina, who translated. He followed a little of the conversation, but his Haniker was by no means comprehensive.
“We’re heading to City-Sedrin,” Elina said. “Could you share news? Is there any trouble on the river?”
“The Carene is the same as always,” the tall-man said. “Angry, deep, beautiful.”
The heavy man snorted. “Nils might be right about the river but if you’re heading to the city, there’s word of some unrest.”
“Unrest?”
Nils nodded. “Grave word about the king.”
“The king?” Karlaf asked. He glanced at Elina, whose face had paled.
“Word from downriver says the king has fallen ill and no-one knows why. Prince Jenisan is no-where to be found. The nobles are searching the city for a thief thought to be responsible.”
“True, but ‘no-where to be found’ is exaggerating, Nils.”
Elina and Karlaf exchanged another glance, the guide unable to hide his growing concern – and maybe,
a hint of guilt? Never concealed his own frown. More secrets? But of course.
She turned to the other man. “You disagree?”
He blinked. “Well... no, only – everyone knows the prince. He’s probably just on one of his crazy searches.”
“But the king is unwell?” she pressed.
“That’s what folks downriver believe. Some sort of new illness has him bed-ridden.”
“No-one’s seen him for weeks, apparently,” Nils added.
“Fish-guts.” The heavier man folded his arms. “How could you know that?”
“That’s what Milen said and he heard it from a royal archer who knows one of the king’s maids.”
“Oh? And what was a royal archer doing in Togan – Mil is a braggart who’s never been two bends further south than his own hut.”
“Thank you both,” Elina said, striding back toward the moorings.
“Do you believe them?” Never asked as he followed, struggling to keep pace.
She didn’t reply.
A glimpse of movement at the edge of his vision stopped him. Had it been the flash of a cloak slipping between buildings? Someone watching? The bare footprints in Sarann – had someone followed so far? If he dashed between the homes maybe... no, Elina and the others were drawing away. And it was probably just the children from earlier.
“What is wrong?” Elina asked when he joined everyone on the wooden boards of the pier.
“Nothing. I thought I saw something, is all. So, what about the rumours?”
“They are not rumours, I fear.” She stared across the river a moment then shook her head. “King Noak was unwell before I left... but I hadn’t thought it this bad.” She turned to Karlaf and her eyes were wet. “Go to Jenisan; he may not know of this new turn. Tell him he needs to return home.”
“I will, My Lady,” Karlaf said. He climbed into his boat and began rearranging and removing supplies.
“What’s happening?” Luis asked, bending to accept a pack from Karlaf.
Elina glanced over the water. “I don’t know.”
“But we must split up?” Never asked.
“Yes. I need to reach the city as soon as possible and a detour to find Prince Jenisan could be fatal. And so Karlaf will find him and we can carry on.” Her jaw was clenched. “I can’t be sure. If it’s but a rumour...”
Luis nodded. “But if it’s more than that and you do nothing, you won’t be able to forgive yourself.”
She met his eyes. “That’s my fear, Luis.”
Never climbed into the other boat. “Then we’d better get these things moving.”
Chapter 2.
Supplies had been redistributed and stowed away, anything Karlaf had deemed excess or detrimental to his speed was to be sold in Lonig and suddenly he was bidding them farewell, first extracting an oath of caution from Elina; then pulling his boat into the current and slipping out of sight.
Elina watched him from the pier then spun and started to collect the excess supplies.
“Did you need help?” Never asked.
“No – your Hanik is terrible,” she said, managing something of a smile, but her attention was elsewhere as she strode back into Lonig. She even fumbled some of her bundle as she slipped between the homes on their water-stained stilts.
“We’ll be ready when you’re done,” Luis called after.
Never and Luis soon finished making room, sliding an oiled covering beneath the rower’s seat then sitting back. Three people in the boat wouldn’t exactly be spacious, but they’d manage.
Luis pulled a handful of berries from his pack and began eating. “Do you think the rumours are true?”
“There has to be at least some truth for it to reach Lonig, don’t you think?”
He nodded. “Then we’re heading into more trouble.”
“Agreed. A poisoned king and strangers from other nations don’t tend to go well together.”
“Elina will vouch for us.”
“She will.” Never tapped a finger on the gunwale. Certainly she will – her grandfather wanted him, why wouldn’t she? The current lapped against the boat, gentle. Unease had settled its bulky weight upon him. A poisoned king – how familiar it sounded. Setting aside his own recent poisoning, there was another illness that could not be ignored.
Snow.
Snow had poisoned the Old-Birch. Snow had stolen Amouni artefacts. And if he’d discovered the link between Amouni and Hanik, Snow had visited other parts of the nation for more answers. Perhaps the Royal Library.
But had Snow been foolish – mad – enough to poison a king?
Would it mean war? If Snow were the thief for which they searched – if he was found to have Marlosi heritage? Or would his pale skin and blue eyes turn the nobles of Hanik toward Vadiya? Vadiya who were already seeking to expand their own borders.
All speculation.
He had no proof, only fears. For now.
“What troubles you?” Luis asked.
“You know what I told you of my brother?”
“Yes.”
Never raised an eyebrow.
Luis lowered a handful of deep red berries. “You think he...”
“Yes.” He sighed. “Perhaps. At least for now, keep this between ourselves. I don’t want to upset Elina on account of idle speculation.”
“Right.”
Footsteps bounded along wood. Elina crossed the boards and climbed down, taking a seat in the prow. “Ready?”
“Ready,” Luis said as he untied the boat.
Never took the oars, dipping them into the water and pulling the vessel into the current. “Elina, can Karlaf find the prince? I do wonder, will it make a difference, him leaving before us?”
“I hope so. We may reach Sedrin first, depending on where the prince is, but he has to know either way – it’s his father.”
“Fairly spoken... but would he not know before us?”
She glanced at him. “You’re assuming he’s in a position to hear such news.”
“Is he not?”
“Never, I do not know for sure. Please, just row.”
He resumed rowing. The boat picked up speed, trees flowing by. Thin green leaves twirled by the banks when a breeze picked up, crossing the water to caress his knuckles. By the time Luis had taken his turn, the sky had darkened as worm-like grey clouds moved in from the distant mountains.
“How far to our next stop?” Never asked. “Those clouds don’t look like they’re going to offer cheery tidings.”
“It’s only a summer shower,” Elina said without looking up from the prow. She’d been watching the water for some time.
He grunted. “Well, I think my question stands.”
“Nightfall. We’ll reach Togan. We need more news.”
“What are you looking for?”
She glanced back at him. “I thought I saw the Rainbow Mud.”
“Do you have any grasshoppers?”
She shrugged then sat back. “No. It doesn’t matter. Just trying to distract myself.”
“If you want a distraction, you can finish my turn if you like.” Luis grinned.
Elina folded her arms. “You’re as bad as each other.”
When dusk fell, light glowed through the tree trunks ahead where the river bent around a steep outcropping of earth. There a topless tower stood, half-buried by the trees – yet it was dark. The lights came from the huts gathered at its base.
Like Lonig, canoes and smaller boats were tied at timber piers extending from the banks. Still a village, the settlement seemed busier than Lonig.
“What was the tower used for?” Luis asked. “Togan doesn’t seem large enough for anyone to attack.”
“True,” Elina said as they neared the first dock. “Beyond the village you’ll see why. In old times there was once a much larger town here – Togalner.”
“What happened?”
“An earthquake – some say connected to the slide at Sarann.”
A man stood on the pier, as if waiting
for them, but when Luis steered the boat close enough, Never noticed a breath of smoke rising from a pipe. Just a fellow who’d stepped outside to smoke in peace.
Once they’d tied off and crossed the pier, Elina led them along a dirt road and past weary-looking fishermen to an inn, The Dragonfly. Like the other buildings in Togan, it stood on stilts and was but a single storey with a thatch roof. Unlike the inns found in Marlosa, The Dragonfly lay arranged in a square. Guest rooms flanked both common room and a drafty barn – to which the owner of the inn, a short man with a limp, led them with an apologetic gesture.
“It’s all I can spare tonight. Lots of travellers about lately.”
“It will be fine,” Elina told him. “We can eat in the common room, I take it?”
“Of course... ma’am.” He said. He seemed unsure of how to address her – her speech seemed to oppose her travel-worn cloak but Elina did not offer a title or clarification, so the man had obviously gone with something he hoped was acceptable. “Plenty of room and hot food there.”
“Sold,” Never said, paying the owner. “We’ll be taking meals shortly.”
The man nodded as he left.
Luis lifted a handful of rather dry-looking leaves. “It’s probably better than sleeping outdoors.”
The walls of the crowded common room were lined with windows. A huge insect of metallic blue with a segmented body and wide, translucent wings, hung over the fireplace. It looked like the inn’s namesake – only the creature was the size of an eagle.
Never took the remaining table. Once they were all seated, he gestured to the fireplace and leant closer to Elina, in order to be heard over the chatter. “Is that real?” Folk seemed drunk already, cheerful grins and nonsense conversation. Many men had their jackets open at the throat and when one man removed his boots at a nearby table, the groans of his companions were met by a curse. “It’s too damn hot, you bastards.”
She nodded. “Some of the dragonflies, the hornet-stripes, can grow larger again.”
“I never saw anything like that downstream, near the city.”
“They’re growing rare – some villages eat them. Others once used the segments as part of their armour.” She tapped a finger on the tabletop. “We mostly use steel like everyone else nowadays.”
