The Sun King and the Sorceress (The Legend of Graymyrh Book 3)

by E. V. Greig

  “Well, that’s probably a really useful book then, Squeaky. Maybe we can find another Javian to look at it.”

  “Why don’t you look at it, boss? You read the cover.”

  “Alright, I’ll take a look at it. After breakfast though.”

  “Right you are, boss! More toast?”

  “Yes please, Squeaky.”

  ∞∞∞

  Kaiwan was less certain of herself around Bandhir now. Does he really see me in that way? She shifted nervously before him in the saddle.

  Bandhir chuckled and squeezed her waist. “Something troubles you, little maid – and I suspect that I know what it is!”

  “Efrym...the others will hear you!” Kaiwan blushed.

  “They already think that we are lovers. I have heard them gossiping.”

  The Ullensian uttered a small squeak at that. “I – I think that to be a poor jest indeed, Efrym!”

  He snorted and pressed Seranor into a trot. “Rest here a while, my brave friends; Kaiwan and I shall scout ahead!”

  Saylii giggled and punched Drithik in the arm. “Ooh – the humans are scouting ahead!”

  “Ow! That hurt!” The veldaan glared up at her.

  Nala frowned. “He had better not be rough with her!”

  “Aw – Nala likes the little Ullensian!” The veth’kyr giggled again.

  “Shush you!”

  Drithik sat down on a rock to wait. “They’ll be a while anyway. Who wants to play at dice?”

  Chapter Three

  “Now then, little maid: let us talk properly, you and I,” Bandhir said as he dismounted.

  Kaiwan slid off the opposite side of the horse. “What about, Efrym?”

  “Do not be coy. Innocence is very fetching, coyness is merely irksome.”

  “Very well, then in all honesty I do not wish to discuss this further!” The Ullensian turned her back to him and folded her arms resolutely.

  Bandhir chuckled and crooked his right arm about her neck: drawing her close to him. “Never turn your back upon an enemy, little maid!”

  She choked for a moment, until she regained her footing. “And are you my enemy now, Efrym?”

  “I do not wish to be.” His other arm wrapped about her waist. “Now – escape! Let us see what you have learnt from me so far, little maid: someday, you may need to do this for real.”

  Kaiwan struggled. “I cannot! Let me go, Efrym!”

  “No. You must use your strengths – you are a sorceress! Use your sylth to aid you!”

  “But I might hurt you, Efrym!”

  “If you do not escape, then I will assume that you like this.” He pulled her closer and rested his chin atop her head. “Perhaps I will go even further: there is no one here to see!”

  “No!” Kaiwan attempted to summon the lightning.

  He tickled her unexpectedly, interrupting her spell. “Ah, you see? Your spell has been interrupted! Were I an enemy that would have been a blade that touched your ribs: you would be dying instead of laughing!” He released her and waited for her to gather her composure. “I will not hurt you, little maid.”

  “You frightened me!”

  “It was merely a lesson in self-defence. We should attend to the matter that brought us here, sorceress. You are uncertain of your feelings towards me.”

  “I – yes, I am. I am sorry, Efrym. I do not know what it is that I want!”

  I believe that I could hazard a guess as to what would satisfy you... “Do not trouble yourself so, sorceress. This is all a part of becoming a woman. You must take your time. The first occasion should not be a rushed affair: it is a very precious thing that you will lose. And once it is gone, you can never regain it.”

  Kaiwan blushed. “We should go back.”

  “Indeed we should.”

  “I do not believe that I should ride with you anymore, Efrym.”

  “You are welcome to walk instead, but you may get tired, little maid.”

  “I – I do not wish to be afraid of you!”

  “Then do not be afraid, sorceress.” Bandhir sighed. “There are three things that are sacred in the desert: hospitality, salt and water. I swear upon these three things that I shall never do you harm, Kaiwan.”

  She felt an odd chill run down her spine. “What does that mean?”

  “It means that we are allies: I have given you my word, sorceress. You can trust me.” The mercenary smiled at his companion. Empty oaths to settle an empty mind...as though such promises apply to any who are not of the sands! “Let us not argue with one another. It is a waste of time.”

  Kaiwan sighed and took his hand. “Alright, Efrym: I trust you!”

  “That is good. Now then: let us go and rejoin our companions!”

  ∞∞∞

  Hugo frowned as he tried to make sense of the pages before him. The cover had been easy to understand, but the contents of the book were obviously meant to relate to a highly complex philosophy that he had no prior knowledge of. “Dragos...Mentalis...Baryskoi? What does that mean?”

  “Dragos means wyrmkind,” Banor informed him. “Why? What are tha’ reading there, blacksmith?”

  “It’s nothing,” Hugo replied, slamming the book shut and tucking it away into his backpack. “Just an old book that Squeaky asked me to take a look at.”

  The old varyn snorted. “Oh aye: because no trouble ever stemmed from reading an old book! Idiot – do tha’ mean to doom us all?”

  “I think I’d best ride on ahead for a time,” Hugo growled: “as it seems I’m such a danger!” He swung up onto Waneve and kicked the black stallion into a canter. Varynthir and their all knowing ways! I was only reading: it’s not as if I were casting some dark ritual! Something moved at the edge of his vision then. Reining in sharply, Hugo turned Waneve towards it. He saw nothing but shadows and a few cobwebbed trees. Brilliant – the varyn has given me the chills with his foolishness!

  “What are you looking at, boss?” Squeaky ambled up alongside him: his bare feet silent upon the road.

  “Ah, ‘tis nothing! Spooked myself, that’s all: thought that I saw something moving over there.” Hugo pointed.

  The other man looked. “Nothing there now, boss. It was probably just a trick of the light, or perhaps a wild animal of some kind.”

  “You’re probably right, Squeaky.” So why are you so afraid to go and look? The thought startled him. It had almost seemed to be a voice...

  “Well, we should keep moving anyhow, boss.”

  “Aye...that’s a good idea, Squeaky.” Hugo nodded and urged Waneve into a fast walk. The stallion snorted and laid back his ears. “You don’t like this road either then, do you horse?”

  Waneve reared suddenly: pitching his rider onto the ground and spinning to gallop back to the rest of the group. Squeaky yelled at the others to grab the horse, and ran to Hugo’s side. “Boss – are you alright?”

  “Glad I was wearing my armour!” The mercenary groaned and sat up. “What got into him?”

  “Horsefly, maybe?”

  “He seemed terrified...damn this road! It’s unnatural, I tell you!”

  “It’s only some cobwebs, boss,” Squeaky soothed him. “Nothing to be afraid of there: after all, you never do see spiders where there are cobwebs! Spiders keep their dens neat and tidy. If those webs were in use, they’d be a sight cleaner than that.”

  Hugo forced himself to breathe normally. “Aye, you’re right of course.”

  “Just a panic, boss. That’s all. Here now: let’s get you up.” The Anyosian fussed around him like a mother hen. “That’s better! Now you know the rule about falling off a horse, don’t you, boss?”

  “Shoot it and buy another?” Hugo glowered at Waneve, who was now standing docilely next to Ruiryk’s steed. The animal snorted and shook its neck. “I’m starting to think that Lady Naomi doesn’t like me!”

  ∞∞∞

  Skegyl kicked open the door to his wife’s chambers and hurled down the dead bear that he had been carrying. “Wife - I have slai
n a terrible beast in your name! Come and accept my gift to you!” He grinned at her as she looked up from her desk.

  “Why have you killed that poor bear? Damn it all, Skegyl: can’t you see that I’m busy drafting the terms of our peace with the sylvanthir? I don’t have time for this nonsense!”

  His face darkened at her reply. “It is not nonsense! It is a most romantic gesture and you shall appreciate it as such!”

  “Skegyl, there are many things that I hate. Hunting animals for sport is rather high on the list.”

  “I suppose you would accept it if that witchfinder had killed it!”

  “Given that Misericord only ever kills those that deserve it, then I would suppose it to be some kind of daemonic ursine, to be honest.”

  “So you would accept it from him?”

  “Yes, I probably would. But that’s not the point: the point is that I’m busy and you’re distracting me! Skegyl, I have to have this finished by sunset at the very latest.”

  Skegyl smirked and stepped over the dead bear to take Naomi in his arms. “Well, it’s just gone noon now, you know.” He pulled her to him and sniffed her hair appreciatively. “Come now, wife: we have time enough for a quick tumble!”

  Naomi squirmed and tried to twist free. “Skegyl, no – stop it! I don’t want to!”

  He frowned and held her at arm’s length then: staring into her fierce blue eyes. “You are not merely playing hard to catch then?”

  “No! Now let go of me, and get the hell out of my chambers. We are finished, Skegyl. You chose your old life over the one that I wanted to build with you: well, fine. But trouble me no more – I am no longer the impressionable girl that I once was.”

  “I doubt that you ever really were anyhow!” He scowled as he loosed his grip on her. “Fine then – have your precious freedom! There are plenty of other women that I can have after all, and many are a good sight prettier than you!” The northerner strode out: kicking the bear as he went and slamming the door behind him.

  ∞∞∞

  Waneve had finally settled down, it appeared. Hugo risked patting the stallion’s shoulder as he rode. “There now: that’s better.” He glanced to his blind side and started. “Bloody hellfire child – where did you come from?” He reined in and slid down from Waneve.

  The child that he had spotted tilted her head solemnly to one side and stared back at him. She was pale skinned, with long black hair and dark blue eyes, and she wore a ragged white dress. Her feet were bare, and the mercenary guessed her to be perhaps three or four years old at the most.

  “What’s a little waif such as you doing out here all alone, eh?” Hugo smiled and walked over to the child. Crouching down before her, he held out his hand. “Are you lost?”

  She looked down at his calloused hand. “Lost,” she repeated quietly, gripping his thumb in her own small fist. Her skin was as cold as ice, and Hugo shivered despite himself. “You lost.”

  “No: I asked whether you were lost.” Hugo frowned and looked about them for any signs of a settlement, or for other travellers. To his consternation, he could see nothing but cobwebs, high cliffs, and the occasional patch of dark forest. The child made no further answer. He sighed and picked her up: cradling her against his chest. “Alright then, petal: why don’t we go and talk to my friends, eh? Maybe they can help me find where you came from.”

  “Hungry,” she told him pointedly. “Cold!”

  “Alright, alright: let’s get you wrapped up warm and find you something to eat.” Hugo carried the little girl back over to Waneve and set her on the ground for a moment. Taking out his bedroll, he wrapped her up in his blanket and picked her up again. “Poor little mite! There must be someone looking for you!”

  The child shook her head forlornly. “Gone.”

  “Your family are gone?”

  A nod.

  “Where did they go?”

  A shrug. “Gone away.”

  “Boss – who’s this then?” Squeaky blinked.

  “I found her by the side of the road,” Hugo replied. “She says her family are gone. I can’t begin to guess where she’s come from, though. Have you spotted any other people?”

  “No, boss, and I don’t reckon to either! Why, this whole region has been abandoned for near enough a decade now!”

  “Do you think her family were just passing through here then, as we are ourselves?”

  “Nah, boss: nobody in their right minds takes this path! Even the spiders have abandoned it.”

  “Why?” Hugo didn’t like the way this conversation was headed. “Is it because of the dryanthir?”

  “Nah, boss: they only cause bother for folk back at the main pass. They keep off the path itself. There was a plague, you see, and those few that survived it fled.”

  “This place has plague?”

  “It were years ago now, boss.”

  Hugo shook his head. “The sickness may have lingered in the earth...”

  “Nah, boss,” Squeaky told him. “We’d all be dead of it now if it had!”

  “Huh. Well, that’s a relief, I suppose...oh, wait – no it isn’t! Because plague always bloody lingers!” Hugo was furious. “We’ll have to quarantine ourselves,” he grumbled, “if we even survive!”

  “Said naughty word,” the little girl admonished him quietly.

  “Sorry, petal. Squeaky, get her something to eat please.” He handed the child to the Anyosian. “I’m sorry I snapped at you, by the way.”

  “Apology accepted, boss! Come on then, lass: let’s get you some nice bread and dripping, eh?”

  The little girl pointed at another of their group: a tall Khesrunorian man named Tharl. The middle aged warrior had a tangled mane of brown hair and long moustaches woven into thin plaits. “He dies soon.”

  Tharl, who was one of the fiercest men that Hugo had ever encountered, went white with terror at her words. “Wolf Lord keep my kin well: for the Dark One sends Her messenger!” He dropped to his knees and began to pray fervently.

  Hugo tapped the child on the arm sharply. “Now that’s a wicked thing to say! You take that back!”

  She stared at him again. “Can’t. He dies soon.”

  “Don’t talk such nonsense, child – Tharl is fit and well!” Hugo grabbed hold of the little girl and dangled her in front of him. He glared into her eyes. “Apologise for being so cruel!”

  “You silly. He dies soon.” The little girl pouted. “Hungry!”

  “Aye, well you shan’t have anything to eat until you take back what you said about poor Tharl!”

  Her eyes widened at that. She scowled at him. “Fine! Tharl live many more years!”

  “That’s better. Now then: don’t you think that you should tell Tharl that you are sorry for scaring him?”

  “Sorry, Tharl,” the child mumbled contritely.

  Tharl fainted. Hugo shook his head and handed the little girl back to Squeaky. “She’s going to be a handful, I can see! I can’t believe how Tharl reacted to her nonsense though.”

  “Not nonsense,” the little girl grumbled to herself. Then she brightened as Squeaky set a bowl of bread and dripping before her. “You not die soon either.”

  “That’s good to know.” Squeaky ruffled the little girl’s hair.

  She smiled up at him: sitting cross-legged with her food. “You die in your sleep.”

  “That’s...less nice to know.”

  “You die in your sleep when you get very old.”

  Oh.” Squeaky swallowed. “Boss – can we put her back where you found her now please, boss? Only she’s scaring the hell out of me!”

  “She’s just a little girl, Squeaky,” Hugo replied. “Don’t let her give you such cheek!”

  The Anyosian glanced towards the child. Their eyes met briefly and he stumbled back screaming in terror.

  Hugo strode over and shook his friend by the arm. “Snap out of it, man! She is just a child!”

  “Why Willum scared?” The little girl patted Squeaky’s hand. “Willum not die
for years and years!”

  “How does she know his name?” Ruiryk asked.

  Hugo shrugged. “She must have been following us for some time. I’d wager she heard us talking.” He looked around at his companions. “Ah come on now! Don’t tell me you’re all scared of her?”

  “I’m not frightened,” Alyrra said. “Why don’t I carry her with me for a while? It looks as if poor Master Norys has lost hold of his wits – perhaps he ought to rest in the cart until he feels better.” She indicated the former tribute cart that they were using to carry their tents and supplies. The elderly man driving it waved politely. “Marwyn and I shan’t mind.”

  “I suspect that Squeaky will rest better if this little one is not so near to him,” Hugo replied. “She can ride with me. Waneve won’t mind the extra weight.”

  They were soon on the road once more. The little girl sat in front of Hugo: playing with Waneve’s long mane and humming quietly to herself. Hugo was still curious about what had happened to her family. It can’t have been good: why else would she be so obsessed with people dying? “So what’s your name then, petal?”

  “Javia.”

  “I’ve heard that name before...oh yes! That proscribed cult that Squeaky was talking about! Who names their daughter after a cult?”

  You silly!” Javia giggled and cuddled backwards into him: curling herself up on his lap and sucking her thumb. “Tired!”

  “I’m tired, Javia,” he corrected her gently. Ha – now I know how Lord Von Rosenhof feels!

  “You tired too?” She yawned and closed her eyes.

  “Never mind,” Hugo sighed. “Sleep well, Javia.” I guess we’ll have to find a settlement where we can leave her along the way to Nandor...

  Chapter Four

  Nala raised her arm and pointed. “There – that is Ullensia!”

  The travellers paused to take in the scene before them. Grasslands stretched away as far as the eye could see: a mixture of tall grasses and wild flowers. Here and there were broad, shallow rivers. The region was mapped by its burial sites: huge mounds of pale stones that dotted the summer pastures. Every year, the clans would return to their ancestral sites to bury their dead and birth the next generation of the people of Ullen.