Anah chuckled.
Fools. I am surrounded by downright bloody fools.
“Before we start, Your Eminence,” Jarl began, “I must bring up a matter of importance to my caste.”
“Of course, Jarl, the floor is yours.”
“It is about the missing boy. His distraught parents, and many others I might add, are still demanding answers.”
Hendrix leaned back on his pillow. “What can I do to help, Jarl?”
The Ironfinger lifted his chin and narrowed his gaze. “You can start by telling me where he is.”
“Jarl, why would—”
“The boy was last seen entering your compound, Your Eminence. I need to know what to tell his parents.”
Before Hendrix could reply, his Adjunct scurried over. “I can explain, Second Jarl. The boy did come to the compound to deliver a message, but he met an unfortunate end when he fell down three flights of stairs. It is with the utmost regret that I must inform you that the poor boy broke his neck.” The Adjunct gave a very convincing rueful shake of his head. “Such a shame. I should have come forward immediately but other matters have kept me quite occupied.”
Jarl eyed the Adjunct suspiciously. “Is that so?”
Hendrix held up a hand. “Thank you, Adjunct, for your honesty in coming forward. Nevertheless, you will be punished for waiting so long to report this incident and causing anxiety to the Ironfingers.”
The Adjunct pushed his spectacles up on his nose and bowed. “Of course, Your Eminence. I deserve no less.”
“I think ten lashes is a suitable—”
“Thirty,” Jarl interrupted.
The Adjunct swallowed.
“Thirty lashes is quite severe, Jarl,” Hendrix tried to argue.
“A boy is dead, Your Eminence. At your compound.”
Maybe this one is not as big of a fool as the others.
Hendrix looked his Second in the eye and then nodded in agreement. “Aye, thirty it is.”
The Adjunct gave a last shaky bow and left to resume his place in the shadows of the room.
“Do we have any other matters to discuss?” Hendrix asked impatiently.
When the Seconds shook their heads, he decided to get right to the point. “I have the most remarkable news to share. An abundant source of wormwood has been located. Hundreds of plants are being shipped to Ellvin as we speak.”
Balder choked on the pipe smoke. “What? The rumors are true? I have been hearing stories for weeks now, but I brushed them aside as wishful thinking!”
“Aye, Balder, they are true.”
Anah, the only female in the room, reached for the pipe and took another pull. “Your Eminence,” she breathed through the exhaled smoke curling around her face. “This is such wonderful news.”
Hendrix shook his head at the feigned interest. He knew Anah and the others cared little for their fellow countrymen. Born into privileged families, none of them had ever had to work a day in their lives. They did not know what it was like to go without the draught. They were spoiled ninnies who cared only about their next pleasure-inducing endeavor and that weakness was exactly what he was counting on.
“Aye, Anah, it is the best news we could have hoped for. Soon, we will have enough wormwood to restore the entire nation to good health.”
“Where is this source, Your Eminence?” Jarl questioned. “A new location discovered by Chandal during the Shiprunners’ last exploration?”
“Again, aye. Chandal discovered an island where the wormwood is plentiful and the inhabitants are more than happy to share what they have with us. From the new plants that are delivered, we will be able to begin harvesting once again.”
“What about the Titsu bug that destroyed almost all of our wormwood crops?” Balder asked.
Does this idiot ever listen to what is discussed in these sessions?
“As you should very well know, Balder, a repellent has been developed to treat the wormwood. With proper care of the plants, we should never find ourselves in this predicament again.”
“Oh,” Balder said, around another mouthful of smoke.
“There is more. This island that Chandal discovered is also a harborer of magic.”
There, let them stew on that little morsel. Every hazy eye in the room turned toward him. He had their attention now.
“Magic? It is very interesting, but why should that concern us?” Jarl asked, knowing full well why that should concern any Ellvinian.
“The blood, Jarl! The blood.” Surely, even these nits could figure out his meaning.
The pipe was put aside. “But, how?”
“The Vypir.”
Balder’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “I thought that thing was long dead!”
“Oh, no, Balder. The Vypir is still very much with us and secured in his room in the bowels of this very building.”
Jarl stood slowly from his pillow. They had danced around the issue long enough. It was time. “What you are suggesting is murder, Your Eminence.”
Hendrix stood as well. “We are Ellvinians, Jarl! We have always had the blood!”
“Oh, come now! It has been centuries since we have had the blood!”
“Not for lack of trying!” He grabbed Jarl’s arm. “Think on it, Jarl! Why would you exist on water when you can have wine? Why would you dine from the midden heap when you can have fresh food?”
“Aye, I say!” Balder enthused groggily and lifted his goblet in the air.
“Aye!” Anah chimed in.
Hendrix ignored them. It was Jarl he had to convince. “It is our birthright, Jarl. It is what our bodies require.”
“Desire, not require.”
Hendrix decided to ignore the distinction. “We must make a unanimous decision right here, right now. Magic users are on their way here to the island. Will we reprise the age-old practice of our ancestors? Will our veins once again sing with magic?”
“The blood!” Balder yelled out once again.
Hendrix looked into Jarl’s eyes. “What say you, Jarl? We will need to work together to perform the extractions and subsequent disposals. The public will never know.”
“They will be so content with the wormwood that I doubt they will care very much about anything else,” Anah cackled selfishly.
All waited in silence for Jarl to make his decision. It would not work unless all of the Seconds were in agreement.
Finally, the Ironfinger nodded. “I am Ellvinian. I shall have the blood.”
CHAPTER 9
DANGEROUS WATERS
Chandal pulled the rangefinder from his eye. “Impressive. I wonder if all the Massan magic users are able to move water.” When the stunning Eyereader standing beside him did not respond, he glanced at her.
She drew in a deep breath and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. “I can smell them,” she murmured.
“Aye,” Chandal agreed. He could smell them as well and the scent was intoxicating. “They think to intimidate us with that display.”
“No matter, my friend. In the end, we will get what we want from the Massans,” she answered confidently.
“We must gain their trust first.”
Samara looked at him as if he said the sky was blue. “But, of course. A child knows that first rule of Ascendency.”
Color crept into his cheeks. “I meant to say that the Shiprunners can be reckless at times. They are not always known for their subtlety. With the scent so heavy in the air, they will have to be reminded of their duty to prevent them from being overwhelmed with personal desire.”
“Are you not the leader of the Shiprunners, Chandal? See that it is done.”
Again, she managed to put him in his place. He was a Second, he reminded himself, just as she. In an attempt to cover his feelings of inferiority, he lifted the rangefinder to his eye again. “Shall we…? Wait! The Massans in the water are approaching.”
“If your implantation worked the last time you were here, they will be coming with an invitation to come ashore.”
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“It worked,” he replied with certainty. “That mayor of theirs was very susceptible.” He watched the water people come closer and it looked as though they were walking on top of the water. “Shall we take them?” he asked, unable to hide the excitement that tinged his voice. He had never had the blood. No living person on Ellvin had ever had the blood, but the stories of its lure had been passed down for generations.
The Shiprunners on board thought their mission here to bring back wormwood plants. They did not know what the Seconds knew. That the Premier’s foremost goal was to kidnap Massans so the Vypir could steal their blood.
The Premier promised Chandal and the other Seconds a new life—a life sustained by magical blood. Invigorating beyond anything you have ever dreamed of, the Premier assured him. Now, with the Massans approaching and the addicting aroma growing stronger, he now understood that what the Premier promised was possible.
He heard the eager murmurs behind him, but there was nothing any of them could do to satiate their hunger. Only the Vypir could extract the magic in the blood.
He looked at Samara still apparently considering his question. He knew what she was thinking. It would be risk to take so many at one time. Discretion was paramount to their success if they wanted to keep the supply lines of wormwood and blood operating for a very long time. But, she finally nodded. “Aye. We cannot allow this unexpected opportunity to slip through our fingers. Ready the longboat to bring the Massans on board and have twelve Shiprunners ready to control them.”
Chandal called out the orders. Immediately, his men hastened to their tasks and a narrow wooden boat was lowered to the sea below.
Samara held out a hand in greeting to the magic users in the water. “Greetings, Massans!”
“Greetings!” replied one of the men and then looked at the boat being lowered. “Do not bother with that. We will not be boarding. Prince Kellan has granted permission for six Ellvinians to come to shore. The rest will remain at sea until further notice!”
Samara locked her eyes on the man. “Thank you for coming out to personally relay the message of your Prince!”
The man nodded respectfully.
“Your water skills are incredible!” she gushed, and even from the distance that separated them, she could see him warming to her compliment. “Please come aboard so we can discuss without shouting to one another!”
“I really must refuse.”
“What is your name?”
“Pauli.”
“Pauli, you wish to come aboard, don’t you?”
He tilted his head. “Why, yes…yes, I do wish to come aboard.”
“It is your deepest desire to talk with me, Pauli.”
The man nodded woodenly. “Yes, I would like to talk with you.”
A female magic user drifted closer to the man. “Pauli! No.” She looked up at Samara. “Forgive us, but it is impossible. You may fill your longboat with six people and we will escort you to the harbor.”
Samara’s laugh echoed over the open water, and she pushed powerfully at their minds. “I am afraid I must insist! You want nothing more than to come aboard this ship! It is your deepest desire to talk with me!”
The female magic user nodded. “Very well, we will come aboard.” She looked to the others and motioned them into the boat. Pauli was the first in.
Some of the magic users did not bother with the boat and instead streams of water carried them over the rail and onto the deck.
Samara clapped her hands in delight. She turned to Chandal and hissed. “Secure them.”
He gave a nod and the Shiprunners moved in a circle around the magic users. One by one, their heads popped up and they nodded in agreement at the potent words of suggestion.
“Put them in the hold,” Chandal ordered. “As soon as darkness descends, take them to Ellvin.”
Samara smiled approvingly and threaded her arm through his. “Are you ready for our debut, Second Chandal?”
* * * * *
Under the skilled assistance of the harbor stevedores, the Ellvin long boat hauled in its oars and slid smoothly in between the other vessels moored at the docks. A coil of rope was tossed to the pier and tied to the thick pilings at the end of the extended dock.
“Will that be all, Prince Kellan?”
Kellan was so busy watching the boat of Ellvinians arrive that he forgot that Alia was still standing next to him.
“Yes, Alia. Thank you.” He looked back out to sea to wave his appreciation to the watershifters, but they were no longer in the water. “I guess the watershifters must have returned to Aquataine. Please thank them for me. I am very grateful for their aid and yours as well.”
“You are most welcome,” she replied before bending into a deep curtsy for both him and Kane who, in that odd habit of his, suddenly materialized at his side.
After Alia departed, Kellan returned his attention to the Ellvinians. Lars Kingsley had already provided a description of the dark Elves, but seeing them in the flesh was a different matter. Tall and thin, the man and woman who approached appeared to glide through the air, their feet barely touching the wooden pier. They both wore white flowing garments, belted at the middle and pinned at the shoulders with broaches. Long, black hair hung in silken strands down their backs.
The woman bowed down at the waist and steepled her hands together in front of her. “Good day, Massan.” As soon as the words left her mouth, Kellan froze. That voice! That lovely, captivating voice! Each word a soothing song that filtered through his mind and erased every fear he ever had. The world faded around him, and he only had eyes for the woman standing before him, his deepest wish that she keep speaking and never stop.
Smiling at his obvious distress, she continued her calming lexis. “I am Samara and this,” she gestured toward the man with her, “is our Ship Captain, Chandal.”
When Kellan still did not respond, he felt a hard shove from behind and Kirby Nash shouldered through him.
“Welcome to Massa, Lady Samara, Master Chandal. I am Captain Kirby Nash of the Iserlohn Royal Guard.” He put his hand on Kellan’s shoulder. “This mute is Prince Kellan Atlan and standing next to him are Prince Kane Atlan, Kali Jala Radek of Deepstone and Lady Izabel Falewir of Haventhal.”
Samara and Chandal both bowed at the waist again.
“If I may be so bold as to inquire as to your purpose here, my lady?” Kirby asked.
She looked into Kirby’s eyes. “Why we were invited by the esteemed mayor of Northfort, Captain Nash. Surely, you wish to welcome us here?”
“Of course, my lady,” Kirby quickly assured her and bowed over her hand.
“You do wish to make our visit very comfortable, aye?”
“Yes, my lady! But, I will admit that the number of ships has us—”
“The number of ships is of no concern. We are your friends, Captain Nash.”
“Yes, the Ellvinians are our friends,” Kirby repeated with a brainless grin very out of character for the Royal Saber. Even stranger was the fact that Kellan knew he wore one to match.
“We would be grateful for rooms after our long journey.”
“Rooms!” Kirby shouted. “Lars! Lars Kingsley! We will need rooms for our guests!”
Lady Samara smiled at Kirby. “It would make us feel most welcome if we were to stay at the mayor’s estate instead of an inn. Chandal stayed with the mayor during his last visit, and after his glorious recommendation, I absolutely must see it for myself.”
“Lars!”
Kellan came out of his trance enough to hear Kane mumble something about love struck idiots, but he ignored him. He did not want to be distracted from hearing Samara’s next words.
Lars Kingsley bustled through to the forefront. “Chandal, welcome back, my friend!”
Chandal greeted the mayor in the same singsong voice and repeated Lady Samara’s request for rooms at his estate. He explained that the Ellvinian sailors would remain on the ships at sea for their visit, but he would like rooms for the dozen or so
in their personal entourage.
“Of course,” the mayor exclaimed a little too loudly. “Follow me and I will show you the way.”
Kellan watched the departing party with a beaming smile, but cursed when Kane yanked him around by grabbing a fistful of shirt at his shoulder. His brother’s golden eyes were ablaze. “What is wrong with you?”
“Stop that,” Kellan roared and shoved him away. The effort cleared his tangled thoughts and he ran a hand down his face. “That was peculiar.”
“Clearly.”
“Did you hear her voice?” Kellan asked his twin. “It was pure magic.”
“Her voice was normal to me. Nothing out of the ordinary.”
“Izzy? Jala?” Kellan asked.
The small Elf peeked around Kane. “I couldn’t see anything or hear anything!”
“I heard it,” said Jala. “You are right, Kellan. It was beautiful.”
“Trust me,” Kane advised through tight lips, “there is something off about these people and that’s not good since a whole lot more of them are coming this way.”
CHAPTER 10
THE NEW ORDER
Kenley plopped down on a old log lying on the side of the trail and took a long drink of water from the skin around her shoulder. Baya appeared a moment later, padding listlessly along the path, her head hanging low. It broke Kenley’s heart to see her friend in so much pain.
Baya looked up and, noticing Kenley waiting for her, simply laid down with a whimper.
Kenley had thought to give Baya time alone to grieve, but she could no longer hold back. She crossed the distance between them and hugged Baya around her neck.
I am sorry, my friend.
It is all just so senseless. Why did she have to die? Why did all the others have to die?
I know. I wish there was more I could do to ease your hurt.
Baya lifted her head and a large tear dripped from one green eye. Kenley had never once seen Baya cry in their fifteen years together and that single tear spoke of the tremendous pain she was in. Even though I did not see my mother as often as she would have liked, we were very close.
Island Shifters: Book 03 - An Oath of the Children Page 7
