With Dabo now taking the lead, they wound their way through to one of the shabbier parts of the city. He took special care to avoid pedestrians along the way and soon slowed their pace to a brisk walk. Both of them knew that by now the palace would be in a frenzy and the search for them intense. Akiri’s desire to escape Rath – and Yagash – was held at bay only by his need to know where to look for Kyra.
Dabo eventually brought them to a small dwelling situated between a gutted out building and a livery. There were only sparse furnishings and no lighting at all.
“Stay here,” he told Akiri. “If I’m not back by dawn, I won’t be coming back at all.”
“Find out about Kyra, or it won’t matter if you do,” Akiri responded.
He set about exploring his new surroundings as soon as Dabo left. A door at the rear led into a narrow alley, and he made a point of unfastening several windows just in case he needed to make a quick exit. That possibility grew more likely when, less than an hour later, he heard the sound of a large group of soldiers marching in the streets. The search was now in full force. Moving up to the second floor, he discovered an access to a crawl space. From there he could punch his way through to the roof if necessary. Finding a way out of the city would be another matter.
The marching outside halted close by on several occasions, but to his relief, no one had yet entered. Nonetheless, he knew that sooner or later the building would be thoroughly searched. Abandoned houses like this were always at the top of the list for places to hide.
It was nearly dawn before Dabo returned. His face was grim and he was out of breath.
“We can’t stay here,” he panted. “The Vizier has sent every soldier in the city to look for us. It won’t be long before they check this place.”
“Did you find Kyra?”
“We can discuss that once we’re away.”
“No. We can discuss it now.”
Dabo growled with frustration. “Very well. Yes, I found out who has her. Now let’s go. I’ll explain once we are away from here.”
Leaving through the back, they threaded their way rapidly between buildings, darting from street to street until they were in sight of the city wall. Here, they entered a massive storage building filled to bursting with crates, barrels, and various goods.
“It will take them time to get this far with the search,” Dabo said.
He led the way to a cluster of wine barrels stacked three high in the southern corner of the warehouse. He gestured for Akiri to help him move these to one side. When they had done so, a trapdoor was revealed.
“This will take us to beyond the city wall,” he said. “We can leave as soon as the rest of my people get here.”
“The rest?”
“Palazar knows only a few of us.” Dabo spat out the traitor’s name like a curse. “But there are others scattered throughout the city, and they will be at risk once the torturers set to work. We have to get to the Valley of the Gods before my brother kills Lord Rashid.”
“And what of Kyra?”
“She was sold to a band of Suldan raiders; I assume to be taken east where they can get a better price for her.”
“And where are these raiders now?”
“It doesn’t matter. Lord Rashid comes first. I’ll tell you more about the Suldan later.”
Akiri's eyes narrowed to slits. “No, you’ll tell me now. You can either do that willingly, or after I’ve removed your hands and cut out your eyes.”
A highly charged moment passed between them. “As you wish, outlander,” Dabo sighed eventually. “They were camped near a small oasis that lies some thirty miles north of the city. But it is more than likely they have gone by now. The Suldan do not linger in one place for very long.”
“Then neither shall I.”
Akiri reached to open the trapdoor, but Dabo caught his arm. “I need your help. Lord Rashid needs your help. Would you truly abandon a child in peril to rescue a beast?”
Images of Rashid flashed through Akiri's mind. He paused to look at Dabo. “Wait for me outside the Valley. Once I have Kyra, I will meet you and your people there. You have my word on that.”
Dabo shot him a disgusted frown but released his hold. “If he dies, his blood will be on your hands.”
Akiri did not reply. He needed to focus his mind and body on the task ahead of him.
The tunnel sloped gradually downward for several hundred yards before ending in a tall, nearly vertical shaft rising up to the surface, against which a wooden ladder had been placed. At the top lay a trapdoor covered in sand and palm fronds. Akiri eased it open and peered outside. As he had expected, there were patrols along the base of the outer wall, but the tunnel was long enough that they were some way off.
Bursting forth, he ran headlong into the darkness. Even if the soldiers had seen him, they would not have been able to follow. Without Dabo to worry about, he could use his full speed.
The landscape flew by as he pushed his muscles to their limits. Thirty miles. A distance in normal conditions he could cover, even in borrowed armor, but across a rocky surface in the dark? In trousers that didn’t properly fit? It would not be easy, but he had no choice but to run.
The grass gave way to scrub, then scrub to sand, and as the ground constantly shifted beneath his feet, progress slowed. Even Akiri’s incredible endurance was sorely tested by the dunes, leaving him gasping for breath and thirsting badly as his muscles burned. The sun was an hour past the horizon by the time he finally heard the harsh laughter of men. Slowing to a walk, he advanced cautiously. The oasis was surrounded by tall dunes, each with a Suldan guard standing at its apex. Akiri considered his options, though in truth there were none. It was either a full-frontal attack or wait where he was until night. As he fully intended to honor his promise to Dabo, any unnecessary delays had to be avoided.
The fact that he was still wearing the soldier’s uniform inspired the makings of a workable plan. He skirted the edge of the dunes until finding a line of tracks leading toward Rath and then set off openly toward the oasis.
Only seconds passed before the alarm was raised and a dozen men crested the dune. Akiri waved a hand in greeting. The gesture was not returned.
As he reached the base of the dune, one of the Suldan raised a bow and let loose an arrow. It missed by mere inches – almost certainly on purpose.
Akiri halted, feigning fear. “Wait! I’m not here to fight with you.”
“Then why have you come?” demanded a tall man clad in a cream-colored robe and bearing a long, curved blade.
“The Vizier sent me,” he replied. “He wishes to purchase your dragon.”
The men huddled together for a moment, some clearly upset at Akiri’s reason for being there. There was much extravagant gesticulating and pointing down at the newcomer.
After a few minutes the man in the cream robes stepped forward. “We have no dragon,” he announced. “Be gone, or the next arrow will find your heart.”
“I cannot leave until I have given you the Vizier's offer,” Akiri insisted. “And my thirst is great. May I at least speak with you and draw from the spring?”
“How do you know that we have a dragon?”
“The man who sold it to you is employed by the Vizier. When he heard of the sale, he was most angry that he had not been offered the beast first.”
The challenge came back quickly. “If what you say is true, then you will know the name of the one who sold it to us.”
Akiri nodded. “He is called Palazar.”
The man turned to his comrades again, then back to Akiri. “Very well. You may approach and deliver the Vizier’s offer.”
Akiri gave a suitably grateful smile before ascending the dune. Halfway to the top, the smell of the spring entered his nostrils and the air became markedly cooler. Beyond were another dozen men, all with weapons drawn and ready to charge in an instant. The spring filled a pool that was roughly thirty feet across and surrounded by the customary palm trees and thin bladed grass. On t
he far side of this he saw Kyra.
His stomach knotted at the sight. She was tied to a stake in the ground, her wings secured with leather straps and a collar fixed around her neck. It seemed to Akiri that she should have been easily able to escape such a flimsy prison. That she had not done so told him there was more to this than met the eye; but then, even from this short distance, he could still not sense her presence. Sorcery of some kind must be at work, he considered.
She was lying on a patch of grass in a tight ball with her eyes closed. “I’ll need to examine her first,” he said, moving closer.
The man raised an eyebrow. “Her?”
Akiri chuckled. “It looks female to me.”
“Quench your thirst,” he said. “Then we can discuss the dragon.”
By now, most of the men had dispersed into small groups. Just four, together with the man in cream robes, followed Akiri to the spring.
“You are brave to come to us alone,” he said. “Or perhaps stupid.”
Akiri gave him a sideways glance. “When the Vizier gives you an order, you follow it.”
“Yes. I have heard that he is a difficult man. Even so, to send a messenger into the desert on foot and without water…”
There was obvious suspicion in this final sentence. Akiri feigned an embarrassed expression. “That was my fault. My horse was stolen, along with my water skins.”
“And still you came?”
Kneeling beside the spring, Akiri scooped up a handful of water. He actually was parched, and the cool liquid soothed his dry throat. “I was afraid to go back and tell him why I had failed to speak with you. He is not a man who forgives mistakes.”
“Or incompetence, I wager.”
Akiri shrugged and took another drink. “No. I suppose not.”
The men were looming over him, hands resting on their swords. He looked quickly around. Though the rest of the Suldan were spread about, all eyes were still on him. After splashing some water on his face and neck, he stood up.
“Now to business,” he said, nodding toward Kyra. “If you don’t mind.”
The man smiled. “Are you in such a hurry to leave our company?”
“The Vizier does not like to be kept waiting,” he explained. “And I am on foot.”
“Still, I wouldn’t want you to think us inhospitable. We don’t have much, but we are happy to share a meal.”
Akiri could hear the deception in his voice. He wasn’t believing his story about the Vizier’s offer. Or if he did, he was planning to kill him anyway.
“Very well. I’d be honored to eat with you,” he said. “But can I see the dragon first?”
The Suldan’s smile never dimmed for a second. “But of course, my friend.”
As they rounded the spring, Kyra raised her head. Akiri saw the light of recognition in her eyes, but she made no move to rise.
“Is it injured?” he asked, making certain this time not to say she.
“Not at all. It’s the collar that keeps it docile.” He pulled a pendant from beneath his robe. “I control it with this.” He extended his arm. “You can touch the beast, if you like.”
Akiri approached slowly, pretending to be apprehensive. Holding out his hand, he met Kyra’s gaze and gave her an almost imperceptible nod. “Beautiful,” he remarked.
“And deadly. Without the collar, it would have already torn you to ribbons.”
“What is your name?” Akiri asked over his shoulder.
“Ur Badal,” he replied. “Why do you ask?”
Akiri eased the dagger he had tucked in his sleeve forward. “I just wanted her to know who it is she is killing. I’d ask for the rest of your names, but I doubt you’d give them to me now. And as you seem to be the leader of this…pack, yours will have to suffice.”
Ur Badal coughed a laugh. “Have you lost your senses?”
Akiri ran his hand along Kyra’s neck and slipped the blade beneath the collar. “No. But I think you are about to lose yours.”
With a sharp jerk, he sliced clean through the collar. As the leather separated, there was a snap and a dazzling flash of green light. Instantly, all of Kyra’s thoughts and emotions came flooding into his mind. The rush he felt almost toppled him over.
With shock washing over their faces, the Suldan took several panicky steps back. It was enough to give Akiri the moment he needed to recover and cut away the harness. Kyra spread her wings wide, roaring with fury and vengeance. Akiri drew his sword, reveling in her raw emotions. His blood lust now almost matched her own.
Ur Badal was the first to regain his courage. He called out loudly, urging his men to charge with him, but the words had little effect. Most were already scrambling up the dune, unwilling to face the might of a dragon. Let them run, thought Akiri. Kyra would hunt them all down like rabbits.
The thin stream of flame that shot from her mouth was focused on Ur Badal, striking him in the very center of his chest. He fell screaming, vainly pounding at the flames that were spreading relentlessly across his body.
This was the first time he had seen Kyra breathe fire, and for a moment he could only stare in utter astonishment. It was magnificent. The flames continued to increase in intensity. One of his men was trying to put him out, but dragon fire, it seemed, was almost impossible to extinguish.
The other men who had charged with the leader slid to a halt, intent now only on joining the others in running for their lives. The man who had attempted to aid Ur Badal was now on fire as well, screaming as his flesh was seared inch by painful inch. Kyra leapt after them, sinking her teeth into the shoulder of one and flinging him bodily across the oasis. Akiri happily joined the fray and chased down three fleeing men himself before the remainder crested the dune, leaving their possessions behind.
Kyra had already killed four more Suldan, but even with the survivors out of sight, it was clear she was far from spent. Akiri had experienced her anger before, but this went far beyond that. This was hate. Ferocious and as unquenchable as her fire.
She looked back at him, her clawed foot still pressing into the flesh of a victim. He could hear her words in his mind. They must all die. It was not a request or a bid for his approval. It had burst from her simply because she was unable to contain the power of her anger.
After letting out another roar, Kyra took to the sky. Akiri watched until she had vanished from sight before cleaning his sword and settling down beside the spring. He closed his eyes, bathing in their renewed connection. He had missed it greatly, but it wasn’t until it had been restored that he understood just how much.
The screams of the dying Suldan carried to him clearly. The surrounding high dunes meant he could no longer see Kyra, but he could follow her actions clearly in his mind as she exacted her revenge. At first the flames continued to spew forth; then they suddenly ceased. The final three Suldan were finished off in a manner much more suited to satisfying Kyra’s rage, their bodies literally ripped apart a few pieces at a time by her razor-sharp teeth and talons. It was an especially painful and lingering death. Akiri realized that she had deliberately left these men until the last. She knew who had treated her the worst during her captivity. They would pay for that.
When all were slain, she shot high into the cloudless sky and drifted on the currents of air for more than an hour, as if cleansing herself of her captors’ stench. Akiri waited patiently, still feeling relief that she was now safe and with him again.
When Kyra returned to the oasis, she pressed her snout to his ribs and let out a catlike purr. Akiri stroked her neck lovingly.
“I’m happy to see you too,” he said.
She had never displayed what Akiri might consider obvious affection. Now, though, she curled her muscular body tightly up against his and closed her eyes. He smiled and draped an arm over her back, careful not to skewer himself on her spines. They remained together like this until nightfall.
Many times Akiri had seen soldiers reunited with their wives and children after a long and hard fought campaign. He
now wondered if this were the same kind of joy that they felt. Perhaps. It was certainly the most he had ever experienced, but he knew the moment would soon be over. He still had to help Lord Rashid. Though if he were honest with himself, a part of him was genuinely tempted to simply vanish into the east and leave it all for Dabo to sort out. But even if he could ignore his promise, which he certainly would not, there was no way he could abandon his father’s sword. It seemed that he was trapped into seeing this through to the end.
Kyra must have sensed what he was thinking. She lifted her head, eyeing him accusingly. Akiri laughed. He had become used to the fact that young dragons, just like young humans, were idealistic and foolhardy. Were he to abandon the boy to his fate, she would plague him constantly. In truth, he was already feeling the urgency to make good on his promise to Dabo.
He selected the strongest-looking camel from the line tethered to the palm trees as his mount. An inspection inside each of the bags strapped to the Suldans’ beasts provided him not only with water skins and a good supply of dried fruits and cured meat but also a welcome change of clothes. The loose-fitting slacks and tunic he discovered might not have been his idea of perfect attire, but they were a vast improvement over the somewhat constricting and now heavily sweat-soaked soldier’s uniform.
With all that he needed, he climbed up on his chosen mount. The moon was three nights away from becoming full, so he had until then to save Rashid. And now that Kyra was free, the burden to do this was weighing ever more heavily. Visions of the boy’s face began tormenting him as they traversed the sands. It was times such as these that most men would look to the gods, but not Akiri. He knew they would do nothing to help. It was up to him alone.
If the boy died, then he would be partly to blame. He made a vow: should Rashid not survive, he would allay his guilt with the blood of the Vizier… and the Rahaji.
Chapter Thirteen
The road leading to the Valley of the Gods showed clear signs of travel, prompting Akiri to guess that they had been recently made. Dabo and his men would be well hidden by now, he considered. Kyra, meanwhile, was circling high above, but he had warned her against approaching too close to the Valley. Though she could fly high enough to avoid human eyes, the Vizier was not human.
Akiri: Sands Of Darkness Page 15
