by AS Hamilton
Brynn held up a small, gold apple. Sershja turned and lunged for the apple, but Brynn dodged swiftly.
The charger trotted out of reach. 'No apple, no me,' he stated stubbornly.
'He certainly can be cheeky,' Sariah noted with an amused smile.
'He's suffering from withdrawal,' Brynn intoned dryly. 'Sershja, please...'
Sershja reluctantly came forward and, dragging his hooves, moved past Brynn towards the creek. He grumbled to himself, 'Lousy, fate-forsaken... Mmmff.'
With a comical raise of his brows and a broad grin, Brynn leaned in front of the horse as he walked by and tucked the apple neatly into Sershja's mouth. Sariah chuckled as Sershja made a startled sound and then, realising he had his apple, chewed appreciatively. Brynn tossed her an apple for Treya, which the charger almost inhaled, she ate it so quickly.
Sariah dismounted and moved to a tree she thought might make a good hiding place. As she prodded the soil with her boot, she asked; 'So what is your natural colour? Not that awful brown, is it?'
Brynn looked up from unloading the gear on Sershja's back. 'That was a risky question.' At Sariah's frown of confusion he gave her a grin. 'What if my hair really is this awful brown?' he mimicked her tone perfectly on the last words.
Sariah smiled. 'Not my most diplomatic moment, but Kaydyr can tell it is not your natural colour.'
'It is black with gold, like my seda's, but she has mauve too,' he said, referring to his mother, Belon. 'The thane in charge of finding the Saviour is targeting black-haired elvan.'
While Brynn spoke, Sariah returned to Treya and started removing her packs, placing them over by the tree. 'I know,' she said. 'A lot of rebels dye their hair for that reason. I should have guessed, when I think about it.'
Shrugging, Brynn said, 'You have been away from Riqu for a while. You probably get updates, like I do from home, but it will not be the same as seeing and hearing things for yourself. There is room to forget such details.'
Having removed all of Treya's packs, Sariah unbuckled a small shovel stored behind her saddle. Unfolding its handle, she moved to the place she planned to bury their gear. Kaydyr launched himself from her shoulder to take up a position in a nearby tree where he could see while not hampering her movement.
'You think of everything when you pack for a trip.' Brynn tried not to grin, knowing the warrior would take his amusement the wrong way.
'You underestimate just how useful this is,' she retorted, kneeling and driving the spade into the dirt.
Too late, Brynn thought, she already had, still, he could not help himself. 'You are right, I can think of only one — digging!' he teased.
'Putting out your fire, building up a bank for shelter, burying gear...'
'Alright, alright, I have learned the lesson well; taunt not the warrior with little sense of humour and plenty of practicality,' he laughed, as he started to remove saddlebags from Sershja.
Sariah huffed, grumbling, 'Beware the mage of many large words and not enough sense.'
Brynn smiled at her comment, but resisted goading her further. He turned back to Sershja and patted the horse affectionately on the neck as he moved to his other side to unbuckle the saddle.
Sariah finished digging and leaned back. As she did, Kaydyr looked upon Brynn as he unstrapped his bracers and dropped them next to the pile of gear. Hawk and warrior tilted their heads with interest. 'Where did you get your wrist-mounted crossbow?' she asked.
'A seeca designed it and my seda made it.'
In the elvan culture, seeca was the term for kin or those who may not be blood related, yet were very close. Seda was an endearing term used to address parents. With both terms, if the 'se' was pronounced 'sey' and the 'a' was kept short, the person was male; sey-da. If the 'se' was kept short while the 'a' was lengthened, then the person was female; se-daah. The same was true of the term seeca, male being: sey-ca, and female being: se-caah.
'When I see my father again, I will ask if he will make one for you, if you would like.'
'If I would like? Does a dragon jealously guard its treasury?'
Brynn grinned. 'Warriors are never hard to please, give them a new toy every now and then and they will stay quiet for hours playing with it.'
Sariah whipped a small stick at him, hitting Brynn on one pointed ear.
'Hey!' he objected, rubbing the red mark it caused, giving Kaydyr a hurt look.
'Just be glad it was a stick and not one of my toys,' Sariah said with mild amusement. 'Does it load as easily as it looks, or have you just practiced to the point that it looks easy?'
'A bit of both,' he answered, as he tossed the armguard to her. The hawk easily tracked the weapon and the warrior caught it deftly.
'If you are especially polite to him, and if it is also your wish, my seda could finish your armour; upper and lower armguards should not be too challenging for his skill.'
'I appreciate your offer, but as your words imply, I wear only bracers because I prefer to fight without armour on my arms. I have learned to be aware of the less-protected areas.'
Kaydyr returned to her shoulder, allowing Sariah to examine the crossbow. 'Who is this seeca who designed this?' The design was fascinating, it was nothing like the models she had seen before.
'Technically, he is not blood related, however, his friendship is such that I think of him as I would kin,' Brynn replied.
'Ah, you avoided a direct response, again. So I will take no offence and assume his identity is best left unknown.'
She looked more amused than annoyed at his lack of forthrightness, never-the-less Brynn gave her an ingratiating smile. 'For the moment.'
Sariah shrugged it off. 'You are surrounded by kin who are exceptionally skilled,' she said, moving over to their gear to put the weapon next to the packs before she went through them, separating things to take and items that could be buried.
At one point she paused in her sorting as she weighed up the likelihood they would need cooking implements. As she did, Kaydyr looked at their surroundings, and Brynn preparing the dye. The first look was only a glance; the second turned into a stare. Brynn was stripped to the waist and along his now exposed arms were long, jagged marks. The scars were extensive, covering his arms, shoulders, and upper back. The combination of bracers with long-sleeved shirts normally concealed them. The sight made her shiver.
Brynn looked up and then followed Kaydyr's gaze to his arms. His cheeks flushed, as if he was embarrassed. 'A long story, but for another time,' he said, mumbling into the pot of dye.
Sariah made an intuitive leap, recalling one of the tales Sershja had told Treya while they were travelling. 'Sershja mentioned to Treya that one time you saved an inchanu from an attack,' she said, referring to the cousin of the may-en-ghi that was smaller and had wings, but no horns. 'Was it really an inchanu?'
'Inchanu?' Brynn was confused until he recalled the story Sershja had told. 'Oh, that. Ah, no. I mean, yes. Erm, that is, the scars were caused saving her, there was no attack.'
The warrior's red-gold eyes widened. 'So it was a may-en-ghi,' she exclaimed softly. His tone had given him away. Riqu used a tone like that when referring to the may-en-ghi; a soft, reverent tone of awe. He also often referred to them as inchanu instead of may-en-ghi as a precaution.
Brynn gave her a sharp, hostile look. 'There are no such creatures.'
Sariah snorted. 'Of course there are. You think my father learned how to sneak around mages like Colnba without training from may-en-ghi? It is alright, Brynn, had Kaydyr sensed Abbarane mages I would not have mentioned them by name. Long ago, my father impressed upon me the need to keep confirmation of their existence... well unconfirmed.'
Brynn's demeanour relaxed. 'She was caught in a pit trap. Steep sides and muddy ground meant she had to hold onto me. She tells it far better than I, though.'
Although his tone was softened by apology, there was a finality to his words that did not invite questions. Sariah understood; Riqu was always careful to limit any reference to the
may-en-ghi. She also realised that with his talent, and only minor use of it, Brynn could have hidden his scars, or prevented her from registering they were there, which meant he trusted her enough not to bother.
Day 6 – Afternoon
Denas
Malithorn looked from the dead, human mage on the floor to the enraged blue eyes of his senior elvan mage. 'I ordered him to remind Mereten that Delnaren is not his own private country and he cannot use my funds as if it is.'
'Even so, it makes one wonder how this mage died… if budgets were the only discussion,' Colnba commented dryly.
Malithorn rolled his eyes upwards. 'Are you questioning my actions, Colnba?'
'Never, lord. I am simply an adviser. As an adviser I might think it pertinent to remind you that some of these mages take decades to achieve the skills you require and, should you be angry with them — keeping in mind we are always of the belief your anger is justified — mayhap it should not be fatal. Painfully damaging would be a degree more suited to your mages if you have a need to punish them.'
'So I have heard,' Malithorn retorted curtly, 'but I did not kill this one.'
Colnba's expression clearly said he doubted this last statement. Malithorn glowered and looked away from the mage. 'How did he die anyway?' the Great Lord asked. 'I sent him to kill Mereten's favourite bed mate and the mage failed.'
'Again, as an adviser.'
'Colnba, I do not have the patience for this today. He,' Malithorn pointed to the lifeless mage sprawled on the ash-grey carpet, 'has made me look weak by not completing his task. I have not followed through on my threat. Tell me what happened without any of your normal drivel.'
Colnba scoffed. 'Drivel you make me say,' he muttered. Then, raising his voice, he said, 'As I have explained before, human mages do not easily attain the planes from which you can use talent to kill a specific person. Generalised attacks that involve using the environment or a person are much less complex that taking a life by disrupting the internal workings of a body.' He raised his hand. 'I know, you think this type of execution makes a more powerful impression, it demonstrates you control the mages and that they are not limited by distance and, therefore, you are not limited. But the human mages confuse the plane they need to access to kill a specific person with their own planes and kill themselves, which is exactly what he's done. This is why I advised you to get the assassin for this kind of task. You spend enough time telling me what it costs to keep him; use him. Why have the weapon on the wall if you never take it down?'
'I do not like him here,' Malithorn grated.
'That is only because you insist on being present while he does your bidding. With the hostage to keep him obedient, he is no threat to you. If you just left the hostage in one of the other cities, you would negate the need to see him at all.'
'If a diligent watch on the hostage isn't maintained an escape will be organised, and then he will be free to attempt his own escape and I already know he does not have to see me to kill me.'
'That is why I am here. I guard you on the planes he uses,' Colnba assured him.
'Yet, even you cannot guarantee he will not find a way. At least if I take the hostage with me, he will have little inclination to look.'
'He is not that dim, he knows I monitor his thoughts.'
'All the time?'
Colnba suppressed yet another look of annoyance, the Great Lord enjoyed so much mage protection and he still needed reassurances. 'Often enough to catch him if he tries. A new plane takes a long time to find. If he starts looking for one, I will know.'
For a long moment Malithorn glowered at the elvan, distrusting his word, yet unable to deny the turns of service Colnba had given him. His mind went to the advice his father had given him in his last days. 'Never relax your grip on their reins and they will be obedient.'
In the assassin's case, the 'reins' that kept him in place were the hostages. Unconsciously Malithorn's hand went to the locket his father had given him in his dying hours.
The move was not missed by the elvan mage.
'Very well, send for the assassin,' Malithorn relented.
Day 6 – Afternoon
Sal-Cirus
'So, that is Sal-Cirus...'
Sariah nodded as Brynn paused gazing at the white metropolis glaring in the early afternoon sun. 'That it is,' she answered, slightly amused at his awe.
It had been some time since he had seen a city and Brynn found himself unprepared for the sheer mass of it. According to Sariah, inside the wall lay a mismatch of streets and boulevards with taverns, markets, hostels and merchant shops situated with no pattern at all. It sounded quite confusing and Brynn was glad Sariah was with him, else he might not be able to find his way out once he went in.
In the centre, contained behind another wall, a palace regally reigned over all, its pointed spires reaching high into the sky, its white walls glowing in the sunlight. He counted four large, square, squat towers on each corner, except that the walls connecting them were curved as if they were not placed on corners, but marking four points in a circle. These points would be the four directions: south, east, north, west. Each of these towers supported three smaller towers with a long, pointed roof gracing each one, a flag fluttering from each spire.
It was a cultural shock to see so many people crammed in like this. He had been sheltered with his life on the outskirts of the country. Elvan cities were built into and around their natural environment and this principle was followed when creating the rebel bases. Before the invasion, elvan communities in the forest could barely be distinguished from the trees amongst which they were built, with sweeping bridges overhead or tunnels beneath. Only the lights at night or in the more shadowed areas of the forest revealed just how populated the forest actually was. Much of the outdoor lighting also made use of natural mosses grown painstakingly in patterns both intricate and simple. Homes were formed in the natural shelter at the base of trees or on large pillars crafted to match the trees in the area and designed to support a platform. An entire home could be constructed up amongst and above the trees. In the mountains, on the coasts, and along the rivers it was the same, with the buildings complimenting their environment. Keldon and Malithorn had levelled most of the elvan dwellings, creating huge monstrosities in their place. Why had Belon not mentioned these changes? Mayhap it was a reluctance to accept such destruction.
Not all the elvan buildings had been desecrated, as evidenced by a temple on the other side of the palace. The series of domes, each one smaller than the one below, that made up the building were white with green jade set in a flower-like pattern that resembled ivy. It must have taken turns to create such an intricate decoration. Sariah had explained that the five domes represented a stage in life; birth, childhood, adulthood, death and spirituality. Each dome had been split into a number of halls dedicated to life: the giving of it, the enrichment of it, the healing, loss, joy, fulfilment, and nourishment of it.
The first dome, which he could not see from here, had arches all the way around it and contained the halls of nourishment and joy. Sariah said the first hall was now an entrance room displaying artifacts Malithorn considered significant; a shrine to his own greatness. The second hall was the Great Lord's receiving room, where he met with his public.
'You said Malithorn has a contingent of guards housed in the temple?'
'Yes, the second and third floors. Places once dedicated to the celebration of life and the preservation of it are now occupied by men who trade in death,' the warrior related bitterly. 'There are several other such locations about the city. Sal-Cirus usually has the largest contingent of soldiers; the Great Lord, being such a brave man, cannot stand to have his army too far away.'
Brynn gave the warrior a grim smile, her sardonic tone made her opinion of Malithorn obvious. 'And the last two floors? Rumour places a harem there, inaccessible to even Riqu, known for spiriting slaves and prisoners from the most unlikely cells.'
'If he could find a decent cover, he would. Un
like slaves, no one requests the transfer of large groups of women.'
Brynn nodded his understanding. Extracting those women would be an effective way to clear out the majority of the soldiers in Sal-Cirus when they left the city in pursuit of the missing harem. Such an event, would make an attempt to meet with Toormeena more likely to succeed, Brynn thought wistfully. If only it were possible.
'According to inside sources,' Sariah continued, 'Malithorn recently housed some overseas guests at the temple, on the top floor. He was negotiating the sale of some of his holdings. It turns out he used to rule lands over the sea.'
'Naturally, he takes after his father,' Brynn remarked scathingly, continuing to take in the details of the city.
'Quite. Riqu told me that Malithorn is off in Denas enjoying the festival there. With their ruler away, security in Sal-Cirus is quite relaxed and getting through the main gate is easier. This is chiefly because Malithorn takes a good half of the guard with him, leaving the city short of staff. With more work than people to carry it out, they tend to be less diligent.'
'Not this time,' Brynn corrected.
Sariah raised her brow in inquiry.
'Thane Nathan Kennelm sent a large contingent from Ancoulan to support the house guard in Malithorn's absence. Nathan would have eventually travelled here himself if he had not been convinced to join the patrols and lead the search for the 'elvan-on-the-white-and-grey-horse',' Brynn couldn't help grinning, pleased with the success of his subterfuge. 'Also, a high percentage of the reinforcements Nathan sent are members of mercenary groups. As we both know, independent military groups are not usually inclined to be thorough in the dispatch of their duty if it means more work but not pay. This means the disadvantage of the higher presence of guards is negated by the fact that a good half of them do not care enough to impede our progress and will quite happily take bribes.'
Sariah looked impressed by this revelation. 'So who 'convinced' the Thane to join the patrols?'
'The same person who convinced Malithorn that to stay in Sal-Cirus like a hunted rabbit was preposterous and that to enjoy the festival in Denas was not running away, but a well-earned chance to relax.'
