Kings of Ghumai- The Complete series Box Set

by D N Meinster

  Aros stopped as they reached the end of the street. He had to turn left, while Leidess was going right. He hated having to part from her. The only thing he missed about school was that he got to be with her all day. He looked into her soft brown eyes, which displayed the tenderness and beauty of her soul. She brought him close for a hug, which he had no desire to wiggle out of.

  "I'll see you later," Leidess said as she let go and turned away.

  "You bet!" Aros called after her.

  She made a quick glance back at Aros, with a slight grin on her face. She wished she could spend the whole day with him.

  Madam Tudith was a slender, yet brawny, woman with a pretty face and light brown skin. Her eyes were dark and fierce and her hair was cut into a bob. The outfits she wore were always drab, for it seemed she cared more about the fitness of her body rather than the clothes that covered it. Leidess would likely assume she was hiding her femininity, except on the top of her head was a pink ribbon tied into a bow. Such a thing stood out no matter what Madam Tudith was wearing, and Leidess guessed it must have some significance, but she had never asked what.

  Madam Tudith was the only one in the otherwise vacant classroom when Leidess walked in. Her bare feet moved over the coarse wooden floors that were infested with more than a few grains of sand, and she approached the instructor who was busy grading papers at her desk in the front of the room.

  "Good morning," Leidess said.

  "Leidess," Madam Tudith acknowledged her without looking up from the papers. "You can go take a seat in the corner."

  Leidess nodded and shuffled over to a chair in the front corner of her room that was officially her workstation. She supposed Madam Tudith would have loved to keep her there all season, but apprentices were required to teach a class at least once every ten days. Madam Tudith kept it to that minimum. Leidess only got to stand in front of the class nine times a season, but she loved every moment of it. Despite her vigor, Madame Tudith was getting old and was bound to retire at some point. Leidess couldn't wait. Then she could be a teacher every day, not just thirty-six times a year.

  Madam Tudith tossed a page back onto her desk and gulped down the rest of her lukewarm morseltea. "I spend all day telling these kids about the Manifest War and the Conflict of Stars. But do they absorb it? Do they understand it? It seems not."

  Leidess stared at the instructor as she stood up and grabbed a dull green book from the corner of her desk. She flipped through it until she landed on the page she wanted, and then moved over to Leidess.

  "Here," Madam Tudith said, handing Leidess the open volume. "Transcribe this page onto the chalkboard."

  Leidess looked over the open page. Of course it was more information for the wars that plagued Ghumai. "Shouldn't we be covering the aftermath of the wars at this point?" she asked.

  "What good would that do when these children don't even understand what caused most of these wars?" Madam Tudith plopped back into her seat. "No, no, no. My family served in the armies of Kytheras since the founding of this kingdom. I will not let their service and sacrifice be in vain."

  Leidess grabbed a piece of chalk in one hand and began writing, while holding the open book in her other arm. "Would you have served, if there was a war going on now?"

  Madam Tudith smiled as she imagined that a war could be going on at this moment. "I've wanted to my entire life. But no other kingdoms, no more wars. That's just how it is. I figured the best way for me to serve now was to teach. I hope you understand that, Ms. Keru. You're not here just to help children learn. You're in the service of the King."

  Well, it definitely felt like servitude to her. Leidess continued writing on the chalkboard as the first few students started occupying the rows of desks. Some days she wanted to leave and spend the day with Aros. Most days, really. Time couldn't go by fast enough.

  Aros swung open the door to Ratch's shop and almost collided with the owner. He had several glistening pots in his clutches and backed up to let his apprentice enter.

  "More o' these damn orders for pots and pans," he grumbled. "Waste o' damn time."

  "Don't think you sell enough swords to get by on that," Aros said, restraining a grin.

  "I remember when we could."

  "You're not that old," Aros reminded him.

  "Hmm. I remember my daddy talking about his daddy whose grandfather could." Ratch thought about what he said. "That sound right?"

  "Could be," Aros answered.

  "Kytherans used to be warriors. Now we're complacent sissies, cooking in pots and pans." Ratch growled and tossed the orders to the floor. "I'll make 'em wait for their precious utensils."

  "You're gonna scuff them up," Aros warned, bending down to check on the shine of the saucepans.

  "Didn't care if a sword was shiny," Ratch growled. "Just cared how sharp it was. How well it could cut through flesh."

  Aros stood back up. "Done fantasizing, there?"

  Ratch growled and picked his delivery off the ground as if the multitude of objects were made of paper rather than heavy steel. He was a hulk of a man shrouded in dirty garb that may have once been white. Most of his face was hidden behind an overgrown beard, which matched the red color of the lengthy hair he had tied back into a ponytail. His missing left ear was all too apparent with such a hairstyle, though the rest of the scars on his face were well concealed. He was intimidating to behold and a frightful figure if you didn't know him. But despite the gruff exterior and coarse voice, Ratch was really a gentle man who inherited the family business. Aros was grateful to be under the tutelage of such an individual, even more so when Leidess recounted her own horror stories under Madam Tudith.

  "I should be back by lunch," Ratch told him. "I'll grab us some sandwiches."

  "Anything you want me to do while you're out?" Aros asked.

  "Just keep on with your secret project," Ratch said with a wink. "It's the only thing interesting to come outta this shop in years." And with that, he left.

  Aros scuttled to the back of the shop and swung open the cupboard. Lying right where he left them were his clawblades, as he had come to think of them. They were like two enormous golden talons, straight for more than half the body but bent like hooks near the point, and both had been stuck onto faded red hilts. He reached in and grabbed one in each hand. Slowly, he moved a blade along his line of sight. It wasn't yet very shiny, but it still appeared as he had imagined. They were thin enough to slice through whatever may stand in their way, or they soon would be. Aros could tell just by looking that they weren't yet sharp enough. But it was only another day or two's work when his weapons would be complete. That even included polishing them.

  He set the two clawblades down on his anvil and gaped at them for a bit. It had taken so long for him to craft them, it was a strange feeling that he was almost done. What would he do when Ratch was away now? Their construction had occupied him for over a year. From the design to gathering the materials to molding it, each step had taken almost a season. And to spend nearly ninety days on only one step was a sign of indisputable determination, and perhaps a bit of boredom.

  With one accomplishment down, Aros wondered what he could do next. He had to fill the hours somehow, and Ratch had more than enough materials to create something new. As his focus drifted away from the clawblades, his thoughts slipped to Leidess. He would've spent those hours with her if he could. She always occupied the best parts of the day, or rather, she made the time he spent with her the best part of the day.

  Aros never really missed school, except for the fact that he got to spend the entire day with her. He would walk with her to their classroom in the mornings, and then they would walk back to their adjacent homes together in the evenings. And in between, they sat next to each other while their instructors would blather on. Leidess paid much better attention than him, but she would still giggle when he mocked one of the many Madams under his breath. Aros sighed. He was even more aware how empty Ratch's shop was at the moment.

  Maybe he
could build something for Leidess. But what? She would much rather have one of those ancient swords that hung in the shop, but he doubted Ratch would part with such a precious object. He contemplated forging a bow for her. They had just spoken about Splitting, and she could probably use a new one, even though he hadn't seen her old one in some time. Well, it was an idea.

  As the blades he was staring at came back into focus, Aros realized he didn't have any sheaths that would suit them. They were an unusual shape, and it would take an atypical design to hold such a weapon. He closed his eyes and pictured how he could carry around the clawblades. A sling of some sort might have been feasible, or even a custom strap. They would have to be kept on his back, for they were too unwieldy to keep near his legs.

  CLANG!

  The noise startled Aros, who only seconds earlier was quite sure he was alone. His eyes opened and scanned the room for the source of the metallic thud. Not far from him stood a boy. Or not far from him didn't stand a boy. Aros wasn't quite sure. The boy was there, and he was not. Aros could see everything behind the boy, as if nothing was obstructing his view. Yet there was undoubtedly a child there. He had unmistakable features, like a nose and untidy hair, but it was if he was formed from a thin, black smoke.

  Aros was unable to look away from the smoke boy. He was mesmerized by the oddity in front of him, and marginally terrified that the slightest movement could whisk the boy away. Was the smoke boy feeling similarly? He hadn't moved since Aros noticed him.

  Aros continued to examine the specimen before him until finally grasping what had caused that sound. At the smoke boy's feet were several of Ratch's tools, including raw metal and unused molds. Aros' jaw hung open. The smoke boy was a thief.

  As if reading his mind, the smoke boy scooped up all of the supplies in a flash and scurried to the door. It swung open as if pushed by someone even more transparent than the smoke boy, and he and Ratch's belongings were gone.

  Aros tried to process what had just occurred, but he was interrupted. The voice he had heard calling his name was back. However, it wasn't calling his name anymore. "Don't let him go," the voice whispered.

  Aros wasn't compelled to listen to a disembodied voice that he had been trying to ignore since he first heard it. Still, he agreed. He couldn't let the smoke boy get away.

  A determined Aros rushed to the door, flinging it open and hoping that the thief hadn't gone far. He caught sight of the stolen goods only a short ways up the street. They appeared to be floating away on a dark cloud, but he was certain that it was the smoke boy still carrying them.

  He took off, plowing by the unaware citizenry. No one had stopped to gawk at the boy made of smoke or the hovering blacksmith equipment. They only directed rude comments at Aros as he nearly ran into them while trying to catch up.

  Despite the thief's head start, and the scoops of sand slipping into Aros' sandals, he was gaining ground. Though his breaths got deeper, he did not slow down. He was going to catch this thief. He was not going to let him take Ratch's property.

  The outline of the smoke boy was coming into view. It occurred to Aros how absurd it was, not just that the thief was hardly there, but that he was able to carry so much. No real child would be able to lift all that the thief was carrying, let alone run so fast with it.

  Aros was becoming more aware of the dull ache in his legs. His muscles were getting tired. But he kept running ahead toward the smoke boy. More and more of his features were coming into focus. How was he able to keep such a steady pace for so long?

  The thief turned onto another street near the end of the block. Aros was quick to follow after him but nearly collided with a man as soon as he turned the corner.

  The man with wild orange hair and a felt green cloak looked disapprovingly at him

  "Sorry," Aros said to the man who was standing in his way. He crooked his neck, trying to look past him for a sign of the smoke boy, but the thief and his stolen goods had disappeared. "Did you see a boy?" Aros asked as he began to catch his breath.

  "No boy besides you," the man replied in an irritated tone. He knocked into Aros' shoulder as he walked by him.

  Aros ignored the unkind gesture and headed up the street. He turned every which way throughout his stroll but saw no hint of the thief: not a footprint nor a dropped object. Aros shook his head, perplexed by the situation. Who was he? Where could he have gone?

  Chapter Five

  Escapade

  Rikki rested both her hands on the sides of Mirabelle's face. She could feel the warmth radiating through her horse's thin coat of fur. She brought her head closer to Mirabelle and rested her forehead on the top of her snout.

  Her time with Mirabelle was one of the few opportunities she had to get outdoors. The horse stables were on castle grounds, with its wooden structure painted black to match the architecture. It was a decent-sized stable that was crammed into the city, its floor coated with straw mixed with the sand that had blown in. The other horses were still stuck in their compartments, unable to roam into the patch of open land that encompassed their home. A fence surrounded the perimeter, so even when they were let out they couldn't escape. Rikki was standing near this fence, just as glad to feel the sunlight as her horse.

  Mirabelle had been given to Rikki four years earlier, at the age when mages were once set free upon the world. Ponies were meant to make their journeys easier, especially if the mage had the ability to enchant them. While the year when Rikki was allowed to leave had been increased, the year she received a pony had not changed. Mirabelle was a newborn when she was given to her, and she had been locked up in the stables ever since. Rikki knew her horse could relate to her. They were both kept prisoner; able to see the kingdom but never be a part of it. When she got out, she was going to take Mirabelle with her.

  "You want to leave just as bad as I do, don't you?" Rikki whispered to her horse.

  Mirabelle moved her head up and down in response. She knew exactly what Rikki said to her. Mirabelle had lovely light brown fur covering most of her body, except there was huge white splotch encircling her left eye. The white fur spread from her face across the left side of her body like thick veins. She was the only horse in the stables without a solid body color. It had been suggested to Rikki that she use her magic to fix the discoloration, but she refused. Mirabelle was unique, and she had no desire to take that away from her.

  "Let's practice a getaway," Rikki suggested. She backed away from Mirabelle, who swiftly stood at attention. With a quick burst of speed, Rikki hopped into the air, did a flip, and landed on Mirabelle's bare back. She adjusted her bottom, attempting to get situated. It was slightly uncomfortable, but she knew she'd get used to it within minutes. Rikki wrapped her arms around Mirabelle's neck. "Imagine we were leaving forever."

  Mirabelle moved a few steps forward before breaking out into a full trot. Her hooves didn't even seem to touch the terrain and she galloped around the stables. Mirabelle's mane tickled Rikki's face as the wind blew against them.

  Rikki closed her eyes and imagined she was flying. They'd be up in the air, leaving all of this behind. It would be a great escape, as two prisoners from Castle Tornis were finally freed. Her lips curved upward as she daydreamed.

  Mirabelle slowed down after encircling the stables multiple times, and Rikki peeked back into reality. She noticed there was someone else at the stables; someone wearing robes of light green and gold.

  Rikki told her horse to stop when they returned to their starting point. Doren was there, holding Rikki's new staff in his hands. He looked up at Rikki as the two approached him.

  "Are you supposed to leave this lying around?" Doren asked, extending the staff toward her.

  "I wasn't expecting anyone to come snooping," Rikki replied in a prickly tone. She crossed her arms, still looking down at him from her horse. "Let alone the Prince."

  Doren eyed her suspiciously. "I am the Prince," he repeated. "I guess I can keep this then." He tucked the staff in his arms and turned around. He hadn'
t even moved two steps when he felt someone tugging at it. He tightened his grip but the staff was slipping through his fingers. He tried pulling it back, but the staff flew out of his grasp, burning his hands as it soared into the air.

  Doren turned to watch the staff fly into Rikki's outstretched arm. She grinned at him.

  "That's why I can leave it lying around," she said. Rikki kicked up one leg and slid off of Mirabelle's back.

  "It's a lot nicer than your last one," Doren said.

  "It should be. It belonged to Amelia."

  Doren concentrated on the staff as Rikki approached him. "I thought that was buried – "

  "Nope," she interrupted. "Hatswick had it."

  "That's...that's..." Doren was taken aback. He had been fooling around not only with a priceless heirloom but with one of the most important objects in Kytheran history. "I didn't know."

  "Obviously." Rikki held out the staff for her friend to examine. "Don't run off with it." Doren carefully placed his fingers around the spiral-bodied staff and began to examine it. He was amazed at the good shape it was in for something so old. The silver wings on top, along with the crystal, all shimmered like new. Doren looked up from it and studied Rikki. His eyes ran up her cherry dress until he saw it. Around her collar was the similarly designed necklace. "Wow," he muttered. He gave the staff back to her. "They expect great things from you."

  "They always have," Rikki sighed. "I don't think some ancient metal is going to change that. But...we'll see."

  "What are you planning?" Doren asked. He had known Rikki long enough to realize she was up to something. The two of them had grown up together in this castle. Though Rikki was two years older, there was no one else close to their age living within the black walls. This severely limited their potential friends, but the two of them were able to relate in such a way that even an advanced age difference wouldn't have mattered. Rikki and Doren had each suffered due to their lineage, but they had not suffered alone. They were there for each other in the bleakest of times and shared fears and desires that couldn't be explained to anyone else. Each came to believe that only the other could understand what they were going through.