The Faithful Traitor (Wizard & Dragon Book 2)

by Robert Don Hughes

  “Is it dark yet?” he asked, much later.

  “How many times have you asked me that?” the lady jester complained, but this time he could hear her standing up. “Wait here and I’ll check …” He heard her slipping out of her clothes again and diving into the water. It seemed a long time before she returned, but she finally did. “It’s night. Help me out.” He reached blindly toward her voice and helped pull her from the water. Within moments, she was dressed and they were both in the boat. “There’s a small door at the end of this tunnel,” she explained quietly. “Chaom says it’s disguised as a rock on the outside, and that it’s so low we’ll have to lie flat in the boat to get out of it …”

  They soon bumped against the door and, knowing what to expect, were able to maneuver themselves out onto the river without problem. Moments later they were gliding across its calm surface, an unnoticed skiff in the night traffic of a great waterway.

  The city of Haranamous was alive tonight. Many fires burned in the streets, and lamplight flickered in open windows. As they floated past dark quays and closed warehouses, Seagryn felt a surge of excitement. No more waiting. They were on their way! He silently congratulated Chaom for his wisdom in resolving the problem this way. But soon his mind moved on to wonder how exactly they were to know where they were going? At the moment they were traveling east, not west, downriver rather than up toward Arl and the Marwilds. Were they to meet with a ship and go north by way of the coast and then inland? He didn’t ask. He’d traveled with Fylynn long enough to trust her, and she’d showed more abilities today than he’d given her credit for. Then again, she’d not been called on to demonstrate much of her talent; she’d been a nonshaper in the presence of two wizards and had been content to rely on them. Now, in the absence of the powers, she proved herself to be quite capable.

  As they came in sight of the city’s eastern river gate, Seagryn became concerned, wondering if they would be stopped. But for years there’d been little danger of attack from the east, so they found the gate unguarded. The number of docks dropped off quickly, and soon they were passing fields and stands of trees. When they reached a forested area, Fylynn slipped out the oars and rowed for shore. Seagryn peered under the trees but could see nothing. It was not until they’d dragged the boat out of the water and unloaded it that he heard the sounds of horses whinnying in the woods behind them.

  “What is all this?” he mumbled as he struggled to shoulder two heavily loaded saddlebags.

  “Provisions,” Fylynn answered — a little too brusquely, he thought. “Come on.”

  A moment later, he thought no more about it as he heard an unmistakable voice call out, “I’m over here.”

  “Dark!”

  “Yes,” the boy admitted stiffly as Seagryn dropped the bags beside the horses and embraced him. When they broke apart, Dark said, “You see? You did survive.”

  “But not Nebalath,” Seagryn replied quietly. It would have been hard for anyone listening to tell if this was a statement or a question. He left it open-ended in the hope that, without being asked directly, Dark might give him some hint as to what actually had happened to the old powershaper — and perhaps some hope that he lived still. But Dark volunteered nothing, and Seagryn struggled once more against the senseless anger he felt at this boy who couldn’t help knowing everything in advance. “Why did you tell him?” he demanded with a quiet intensity born of unexpressed grief. “Didn’t you know it would cause him to give up?”

  “Of course,” Dark murmured. “But I didn’t make him do it.”

  “But you did!” Seagryn pleaded quietly. “Don’t you see that?”

  “I answered his questions, that’s all,” the boy prophet said. “I’d do the same for you …” It seemed in that moment the lad was almost begging Seagryn to probe further, and he was sorely tempted to do so, for there were many things he wanted to know: How long would it take them to destroy the dragon? Would he survive the attempt? Would Elaryl? Would they ever live happily and in peace? But Nebalath’s recent experience haunted him, and he recalled Dark’s own terror at the possibility of one day foreseeing clearly his own death. Nebalath had been unable to live with the certainty — and Seagryn decided he would be, too. The silence between them grew longer — and deeper.

  Fylynn’s impatience finally broke it. “Are you two going to stare at one another until dawn, or can we get on with this?” They loaded the bags on their horses and mounted up. But before riding north, Seagryn reached out, put his hand on Dark’s, and said, “Forgive me. I’ve still not learned how to handle your gift.”

  “Don’t blame yourself.” Dark sighed. “I haven’t either.”

  “There is one question I must ask, however,” he began seriously. Fylynn was shocked to hear Dark laugh outright even before Seagryn finished it, also laughing. “What will Uda do when she discovers you missing?”

  “She’ll come after me, of course!” The boy cackled with relief. “So can we hurry up and go?” They all three laughed together, then wheeled their horses about and rode hard to the northeast.

  *

  “Get out of my way!” Uda roared, and the diminutive girl shoved the cringing guard aside and threw open her mother’s door. “He’s gone!” she shouted, and her mother shot straight up in her bed.

  “What? Where? Who?” Kerily shouted, waving her arms helplessly before her. She’d blindfolded her eyes before retiring, and it took her a moment to remember where she was.

  “Dark, that’s who! He’s run off!”

  At last Kerily’s fingers found their way up to her face, and she released her eyes with a gasp of thanksgiving. She blinked several times as she searched the room for her daughter. When she spotted Uda, she threw open her arms and said in her most motherly voice, “Come here, my baby. Tell me all about it.”

  Uda hopped into bed and let herself be cuddled but refused to be at all comforted by her mother’s soothing words. “He left with that — that jester woman! How could he do that? She’s fat!”

  “She is that …”

  “And ugly!”

  “You’re far prettier …”

  “And old!”

  “She certainly … Well, now I wouldn’t say she’s old,” Kerily corrected her daughter. Age was a sensitive topic in Kerily’s quarters.

  “She’s much too old for Dark!”

  “Now that’s probably true.”

  “Oh, Mother!” Uda cried, unplanned tears welling in her eyes. “How could he do that?” She buried her head against her mother’s side and sobbed at the reality of rejection.

  Uda didn’t cry often, so, when she did, she usually made a real event of it. Kerily understood this and didn’t try to interrupt. She just rocked her child against her, waiting for the storm to spend itself. She saw a worried maid appear at the door and waved her away, instructing her by gestures only to close the door and leave them alone. When Uda was finished crying, she sat up, and Kerily offered her a part of the silk bed sheet to wipe her face. “Now then. Tell me exactly what you know.”

  Uda sighed deeply twice and wrung the sheet tightly between her fists before finally controlling her frustration enough to speak.

  “He’s left Pleclypsa, taking some of our best horses and that Fylynn woman with him. They were spotted riding toward Haranamous, but it seems no one here tried to stop them.”

  “Well now, consider that, child. After all, since the boy could know exactly where the guards would be at all times, he could have slipped by any of them easily, couldn’t he?”

  “It doesn’t work that way, Mother,” Uda scolded, feeling free to take out her anger on this one who brought her into the world. “What I want to know is, why?”

  Kerily regarded her daughter seriously, pursing her lips in thought. “Well now, Uda, you did throw yourself at him, you know.”

  Suddenly Uda glared at her mother. “You arranged all this, didn’t you?”

  “What?” Kerily gasped.

  “You helped him escape just to get him out
of your sight!”

  “Uda!” her mother exclaimed. “I’m hurt! How could you even suspect me of something like that!”

  “I’m sorry,” Uda immediately mumbled, and she truly was. “But I know you never liked him …”

  “How could I like the boy?” Kerily protested. “He’s — so odd!”

  “A little eccentric, maybe,” Uda defended, but Kerily overrode her.

  “No, I mean definitely odd! You tell me one mother who would enjoy having for a son-in-law a person who always knows what she’s going to say before she says it!”

  “It’s just that his gift is so overpowering …” Uda pleaded. She really didn’t understand why she continued to defend him, since at the moment she loathed Dark passionately.

  “Well, as far as I’m concerned, you’re well rid of him! Oh, now don’t start crying again,” she added more softly, for once again Uda was crumbling toward her, her pretty face misshapen by grief. Kerily cradled the girl against her and changed her approach. “Now, darling, don’t you worry. We’ll get him back for you, you just wait …”

  “How?” Uda demanded. “With Father’s help? He doesn’t like Dark, either.”

  “Actually, your father’s been somewhat indisposed in recent days. I was thinking more of asking your brother …”

  “Ognadzu?” Uda said, sitting up and staring at her mother in surprise. “What could he do?”

  Kerily drew a deep sigh and looked away. “Your brother has grown — rather influential, of late.”

  Uda frowned. “How?”

  “Oh.” Kerily shrugged, obviously not wanting to say much more than she had already. “By … things he’s done. Arrangements he’s made. He really does have a sharp mind, you know.”

  Uda’s frown hadn’t faded. “Does Father know all this?”

  Again Kerily looked away. “I … believe he has some knowledge of it, yes. Of course, we’ve not talked recently.”

  “Where is Father? Do you know?”

  Kerily smiled at her daughter brightly. “Now that’s a good question. No, I really don’t. But then … at least he’s not here!” She yawned, stretched, and said, “I’m ready for breakfast. What about you?”

  Uda hopped off the bed and started toward the door. “I’m ready to go after Dark.”

  “Darling, wait,” Kerily pleaded, and Uda’s black hair swirled as she turned and looked over her shoulder.

  “Let me go with you!” Kerily said. “It’s been ages since I’ve been out of this house … it’ll be fun!”

  “Fun?” Uda asked, wrinkling her nose.

  “Of course! We’ll make a holiday of it! Ognadzu will help us locate him, there’s no question about that. We’ll just pull together a staff and some luxury tents and an entire caravan and go chase the poor lad down!”

  “But Mother! That’ll take days!”

  Kerily slid off the bed and wrapped a lace shawl around her shoulders. “We have plenty of time. There’s not a place he can go in the old One Land where we don’t have our people. You know that — and since the impertinent little mudgecurdle knows everything, he knows it, too. It’s inevitable that we’ll find him and recover him, but since we don’t know when, exactly, we might just as well travel in style. I’ll get the kitchens busy planning the menus,” she finished, starting past Uda toward the door. Her daughter blocked her.

  “But what about the wedding?”

  “Oh, that …” Kerily sniffed. “You know, I was getting rather bored planning all that, weren’t you? And it just seemed as if things weren’t coming together. Now Uda, darling, I’ve been planning productions for years, and when things tie up like that, sometimes it just means you have to back off and take a good look at the whole concept. You’re my only daughter, and this is my only opportunity, so this wedding just simply must be aesthetically perfect. A trip like this is just what we need to give me a little perspective on it all!”

  “But by the time we get everything together —”

  “Hush now, hush!” Kerily commanded, instinctively aware that she was once more in full control of the situation. “To travel properly takes planning, and perfect plans do take time. Relax, darling, and just let me take care of everything. I feel certain we can be away from here by — oh, in two weeks, at least!”

  “Two weeks!” Uda moaned as her mother dashed out the bedroom door, shouting for the steward. “Two weeks?” she asked again of the empty bedroom, and groaned dramatically. Still, Uda was satisfied. After all, her mother was right. Uda had traveled briefly with Seagryn and had learned deprivation at the hands of Sheth. Traveling in luxury was better. Besides, she knew she’d never get what she wanted unless she got all the family assistance possible. And she’d been Dark’s little mother far too long. She was looking forward to being a scheming girl again!

  Chapter Sixteen: SUBMISSIVE SHAPER

  THEY circled the northeastern wall of Haranamous and joined the northbound road, then followed it all night long. By dawn they’d reached a bridge that allowed them to cross the river, and then turned off the road and headed northeast.

  “Why this way?” Seagryn wondered aloud.

  “We’re going to circle the Middle Mountains to the south,” Fylynn explained. “It’s safer than trying to pass through the Central Gate.”

  Seagryn grunted disapprovingly. He’d flown over the base of that range on the head of Heinox and knew the forest there was a tangled jungle. “Why not dare the pass?” he asked.

  “You want to face the dragon again this soon?” she challenged him.

  “The twi-beast is often not there —”

  “Too risky,” the woman said flatly, dismissing the idea. “Besides,” she added, “you want to go where Sheth is, don’t you?”

  Seagryn glanced at Dark’s face, softly illuminated by the pink light of dawn, but the boy was giving nothing away. Seagryn just shrugged, and they rode on.

  The night’s ride had been tense, for they’d all needed to concentrate on the road, and Seagryn had felt the fear of being recognized by Haranian warriors guarding the road. Now that the sun was up and they galloped through the countryside, all three found their spirits much improved. They were weary, of course, and saddle sore, but the air had a crisp, early fall scent that cheered them all, and the sky was a cloudless blue. They were all excited, after all — Fylynn was en route to see Sheth, Seagryn was on his way to find Elaryl, and Dark had been looking forward to this jaunt of freedom for months. So Fylynn joked while Dark and Seagryn laughed, and the camaraderie born of the long night’s journey turned into midday silliness.

  “You stole us some fine horses here, Dark,” Seagryn exclaimed as they skirted a farmer’s cornfield.

  “These are not stolen,” Dark mockingly protested. “They belong to me! Part of my dowry.”

  “Men have dowries where you two come from?” Fylynn frowned. “Remind me not to marry a Lamathian!”

  “Anyone who marries into the house of Kerily deserves a dowry,” Dark said, and it sounded as if he meant it.

  “The House of Kerily?” Seagryn wondered. “Not the House of Paumer?”

  “That house is definitely Kerily’s,” Dark said, telling his companions nothing they didn’t already know well. “As for the House of Paumer … I’d really call it the House of Ognadzu, now. He’s stolen most of it from his father.”

  “Really?” Seagryn said.

  “An early inheritance,” Fylynn explained. “The new way for the truly wealthy. After all, why wait for your father to die?”

  “Ognadzu’s not waiting at all,” Dark said. “In fact, he’s tried to hasten that along. He’s sent the dragon after his father several times. Paumer’s been shrewd enough to avoid the beast so far, but he’s terrified.”

  “I think I’d want a dowry to join that family, too,” Fylynn murmured with a frown.

  “Where’s Paumer now?” Seagryn asked, and Dark looked at him with some surprise. Seagryn realized, then, why — this was the first direct question he’d asked since inquiri
ng about Uda’s frustration.

  “He’s — with Sheth,” Dark said carefully. “You want me to —”

  “No, no,” Seagryn said quickly. “I’ll wait.”

  Dark nodded and took a deep, happy breath. Seagryn hadn’t seen the boy this relaxed since before the dragon was made, and it pleased him enormously.

  They reached the southernmost edge of the Marwilds by late afternoon and found a camping site in a charming meadow beside a brook. Fylynn gathered firewood and dropped it before Seagryn expectantly. “Well?” she asked.

  “Well what?” he said, puzzled.

  “Any of the old powers restored yet?” she explained in a tone that shouted, “You’re certainly dense.”

  “Ah …” He held a hand out before him, palm up, and thought. Nothing happened.

  Fylynn sighed. “I guess we rub two sticks together —” she began, but Dark snorted at her and held out a flint. “Imagine that,” she murmured as she took it, then looked again at Seagryn. “I wonder how he knew?”

  By dawn they were up and riding again, but the going was far slower now that they moved through the thick woods. They worked harder and joked less, and Seagryn was unsure why. It did seem to him, however, that Dark’s mood had turned gloomy again. He didn’t ask. He just steeled himself for the worst. They spent two more days in exactly the same conditions before it happened, but when it did Seagryn was immediately angry with the boy for not warning them.

  They’d been moving through nearly impassable underbrush all morning. Seagryn had long ago grown weary of this wall of green; when it seemed he saw some blue sky ahead, he’d become very excited and encouraged the others toward it. Dark didn’t call out to him nor hold back. He just drove his mount forward in pursuit of Seagryn’s, and suddenly the three of them jumped a bush and found themselves right in the middle of an Arlian military compound. It was unmistakable — the Pyralu emblem was embossed on everything, and the regiment’s Pyralu standard graced the top of a pole in the midst of the camp. Black-helmeted soldiers all around them turned to stare at them, while those who were more alert sprinted toward them with weapons drawn. They had the time for only one exchange before they were surrounded. “Dark!” Seagryn yelled. “Why didn’t you warn us?”