by Andrew Wood
Once the door was closed, the commander looked at Jamal and cupped his hands together on tabletop. "He is not a bad man you know. Very loyal really," he said in a voice that sounded much calmer than it had just a little earlier. "Now Jamal of the Ari Garrison, tell me everything," he added.
Jamal took a drink, and wiped his tear stained face. He firstly apologised to the commander for the outburst in the other room, before telling him every detail of what happened. He was not sure the man believed everything he said, and he supposed the parts about strange creatures would have had him being doubtful also, had he not witnessed them. The commander sat back in his chair and stared directly into Jamal's eyes. Jamal knew then man sat opposite him was trying to judge his character. "I can tell by your passionate response out there, the seriousness of the mater. Come with me," he said gesturing for Jamal to follow.
After going back out pass the man called Rahal, Jamal fell in beside the towering figure of Commander Halin. They crossed the yard to the gates, "It will be just as quick for us to walk, as wait for horses to be saddled." The two guards who had earlier looked half-asleep at the gates, quickly stood upright, and saluted as they passed out into the city. The walk back to the palace was much quicker, especially as the Commander suggested they cut through a smaller side street, which saw them emerge just opposite the main gates.
Jamal was glad to see the same guard was on duty, and took great pleasure in pulling a face as he passed freely past him this time. The commander chuckled, "Tried here first did you?" he asked noticing the look. "Yes sir, but that guard was as obstinate as your clerk." Passing through the open doors of the palace, Jamal followed him down a long corridor. He had gotten several paces before realising he was actually inside a royal palace. He looked at the bright tapestries on the walls, although the commander was walking too quickly for him to actually see what they were depicting in any detail. There were also several busts of people he did not know, all mounted on white marble stands. It was then he noticed the marbled floors under his rather dusty looking boots, before looking up at the ceiling. He was almost disappointed to see they were just a plain white.
They came to a halt outside a pair of doors as elaborate as any Jamal had ever seen. The woodwork was scrolled with gold and the panels each portrayed a picture, the detail of which was amazing to see. It was as if looking through a window at a picturesque scene of nature. He leaned forward a little for a closer look, only to be told to stand up straight by Commander Halin. "Sorry Sir," he uttered as one of the guards positioned there disappeared off inside the room.
"Let me do the talking Jamal. Refer to the prince as your highness if asked to speak. Do not do so unless told to," the commander said. Jamal nodded his understanding, but got one further warning. "Speak out of turn in here son and you will find yourself being arrested and flogged...at the very least." Jamal swallowed hard, once more nodding, "I understand Sir," he said. The two waited for what Jamal thought was far too long, considering the news he had. Eventually the doors flung open and a man wearing the garb of a royal servant gestured for them to enter.
After giving Jamal one final reminder, Commander Halin followed the servant inside the room. Jamal did likewise, and was surprised to see the room much plainer than he had thought it might be. He had expected opulence on the grandest scale, but the room was ordinarily bland. He looked at a man sat upon a lounge type chair, who stood as they approached. "Ah Commander Halin, good to see you," the man said gesturing for him to approach. Jamal watched the massive frame of the commander bow low, and so he thought he had better do likewise. He had never met royalty before, and was not sure whether there was a correct protocol he should follow.
Once the bowing was over, the prince asked what news they had that was so urgent. The commander in turn gave a brief outline of what Jamal had told him just a little earlier. He may not have been sure whether the commander had believed it all, but from the look on the face of the prince, it was quite clear he did. "Strange creature's you say...but small and not like an Orlac?" Jamal shook his head, "No your Highness," he replied, hoping he had used the correct term. Although he had never seen a real Orlac, they were taught about such beasts in basic training. Prince Issac on the other hand, was one of only a few Murati who had firsthand experience in fighting such creatures.
The prince quizzed Jamal further. Asking what banners were being flown by the invading army, how many troops of each type, how many creatures and were there any other variety. Jamal unfortunately had none of the answers, explaining he had been ushered away by his captain before he had been given chance to witness anything of note. "They bled a strange silvery blue though," he added speaking out of turn, which earned him a nudge from the commander standing at his side. Jamal immediately apologised to the prince for doing so. "Not a problem," the prince said dismissing it as nothing.
"A strange colour of blood for any normal creature," Prince Issac mumbled, as much to himself as to the others. After a long silence, Jamal stood patiently gazing around the room, which only invited another nudge from the huge man beside him. Finally, the prince stood up, and Jamal was surprised by the friendly arm he placed around his shoulder. "If these are creatures from a demonic source we are in for a tough battle," he said walking along, making Jamal do likewise.
The three just paced around the room several times; the prince with his arm about Jamal's shoulders, and the Commander following behind them. Issac told of his experiences fighting in the previous war, of the way they had devised methods, to fight the massive demonic beasts. Although the creatures Jamal had described were clearly not comparable to an Orlac, Prince Issac was convinced that they were not of this world.
Issac stopped suddenly and turned to face his commander. "Follow me please," he said heading off towards one of the side exits. Jamal was surprised to see that he was beckoned along as well. Through a smaller set of doors, and they were stood in an office. Upon the wall was a huge map of Murati, and Prince Issac headed straight for it. After pondering with his hand on his chin for a few moments, he turned back to the commander again. "We need to stop them from expanding the beachhead. If we can keep them confined, we can push them back to the sea," he said. The commander appeared surprised, "Highness, you are taking this boy's stories seriously then?" Issac looked up sternly at the big soldier, "Every word of it. Trust me commander, I have seen the effects of letting something like this get out of hand." He went on to explain how Corlan had been slow to react in the previous war against the Darekians. They had barely survived, and had they not had the Prince Luken and his magical abilities, they would surely have been wiped from the map. "We do not have anybody with magic to aid our cause. Hence, we must make sure we keep on top of this."
Issac went on to tell them both, he would rather send a company of men and it be a false alarm, than sit idly by and risk being overwhelmed. This was clearly an unknown enemy, and Issac reiterated his belief that they had creatures not from their world, which meant they had use of some dark magic. After a few moments thinking, tapping his finger as he did so, he turned to face them "I think we should send an expeditionary force from the city. Five hundred men should suffice to hold them. I will call our reserves and forewarn my brother. Once we can assess their strengths we can muster a stronger force." Commander Halin was told he would be leading the initial soldiers, and he was to have them move out by first light. With that order, the commander was excused to make preparations.
Jamal was about to turn and follow him out of the door when the prince called him back. "I wonder if I may ask another favour of you Jamal?" he asked. The young recruit looked puzzled but nodded, not sure what was to be expected of him. The prince paced around his study, "I can tell Jamal that you're a good young soldier. You have already proven to me how loyal and reliable you can be. Those are two attributes I hold in high esteem." Jamal did not have a clue as to where this conversation was going, but he nodded every now and then, as if he did. The prince moved on to the subject of his eldest son. H
e was fifteen years of age and was 'A complete pain in the ass' or at least those were the words used to describe him.
Jamal was to travel south with the initial force, but to stick close to the commander. He would take a letter with him for instruction. Only Prince Issac wanted Jamal to take his son with him. "His mother has spoiled him rotten. He is more interested in his hair and bathing than practicing with a sword," Issac told him. A series of commands and requests followed and Jamal was wondering what he was letting himself in for. Just as he thought he was going to be given permission to go, the prince thought of something else to add. "Right, no time like the present," he said clapping his hands together, "You can meet my son now."
Jamal followed the prince through several more doors, down a series of corridors, up some steps and into an area that was clearly the living quarters. Sat lounging on a cushioned chair was a young man, and Jamal was introduced to him. The youngster did not appear interested, until his father raised his voice. The youngster then looked up, "Father why have you brought a rather dirty looking sewer rat to me?" Prince Issac grabbed his son's arm, and shouted for him to stand. "Fabian, stand up now!" he shouted. Jamal was feeling a little uncomfortable, as Issac gave his son a dressing down. Not helped by the fact the boy was also ordered to give Jamal an apology.
Once suitably reprimanded, Fabian stood with his head dropped, staring at the floor. "You will go out tomorrow with Jamal and the other troops. I will make a man of you yet." Fabian went to speak but was quickly hushed by his father. It was clear this was not something he was going to change his mind about. Jamal looked at Fabian and thought he saw a mischievous look in the boy's eye. He was nearly as tall as Jamal, with short brown hair and fairer skin than most Murati. Dressed in a rather bright tunic that Jamal thought probably cost more than he would earn in a year, and boots of black leather so shiny he could see the light reflecting from them. Jamal offered his hand out in greeting and after realising his father was expecting it, Fabian reluctantly, if a little half-heartedly, shook his hand. "Excellent, you two will get along fine. Now if you will excuse us Jamal, Fabian here has some preparation to do. Please meet him in the palace yard in the morning, and he will be waiting for you." Jamal bowed his head as he had seen Commander Halin do earlier, and left the father and son to talk.
Jamal had to ask directions from several members of the house staff, as he inevitably got himself lost around the palace. He obviously turned a wrong direction, as he found himself in what he assumed where the servants quarters. Fortunately, for him, there he found an elderly lady member of staff who eventually led him to a side door. After crossing the palace lawns, and being shouted at by one of the servants tending the gardens for doing so, he headed back toward the gates he had entered through. He then realised he would have to pass the guard on the gate, and so not wanting to risk getting a thick ear for his earlier mocking, picked up the pace to a jog as he went.
Chapter 16.
Hope and her travelling companion Arran had set out from the farm at first light. After a tearful farewell with his family, he had still insisted on helping her get home. Hope was well aware of the sacrifice he was making for her. Arran would likely be away from his family for some months, unless of course they found a quicker way than walking. As it was, the pair, fully laden with what supplies they could carry in their backpacks, and their bows, arrows and daggers, made their way southward.
On foot, they should reach the Ulga mountain passes within four days. Going cross-country as they were planning would save them at least a few days, although the risk of them being spotted by wild animals, or worse, increased greatly. For now Hope was just glad to be free again, and heading back home to her family. She wondered how they had coped with her being abducted in such a way. Perhaps they had even assumed her dead, and were grieving for her. She decided that rather sombre thought was not one she wished to consider.
Hope looked across at her travelling companion; his dark hair glistened in the morning sunshine. She had already admitted to herself that she found him very attractive. Whether he felt the same way about her, she was yet uncertain. There had been one or two moments of tenderness, and a little holding hands; all good signs she thought. Although they had travelled for some time, conversation between them had been minimal. Hope had left it that way, as she was not sure how Arran was feeling after leaving his family. She had decided to leave him in peace, and when he was ready to talk, he would do so.
The sun was nearly at its zenith, and Arran found them a beautiful spot beside a little stream. The area was so green, and the gentle noise of the water relaxing to hear. Hope dropped her backpack down on the ground, and groaned as she felt the pain of where the straps had dug into her. They had only travelled half a day and already her muscles were stiffening. She had not yet really recovered fully from her daring swim for freedom. She felt a strong pair of hands grab her shoulders, and rub gently. "I bet you usually have a servant carry your bags," he joked. His touch was heavenly and Hope felt the aches disappear. She chuckled at his remark, "Of course I would, but they don't give back rubs though."
After a light lunch, consisting of a little cheese, bread and an apple, they were soon ready and loaded up to continue onwards. Arran always ensured that he had his bow ready at hand. He had already made sure Hope was aware that the further they got from his farm, the more likely they would encounter something or somebody not particularly friendly. At least Arran was a little more talkative than earlier, albeit about his family, which only seemed to make him more sullen.
Hope had to admit that Darekia was a surprisingly normal looking place. With all the stories she had been brought up on, about evil magicians and demonic beasts, she had envisaged something very different. She watched as Arran moved ahead a little way, scouting the area in front. They had just crossed a meadow and the way forward was a little more wooded. Arran dropped back, and walked alongside Hope, "Stay close to me as we move through the trees, anything could be hiding in there." She looked across at him and smiled, grabbing his arm, "I'm sure you will protect me," she said realising almost immediately, how pathetic that must have sounded.
Dalia stood atop the deck of the ship as she waited for it to reach the dock. Alongside her, stood Dawid, Silas and her young commander. She felt down to feel inside her pocket, just to ensure once that the ring was still within. In her other hand, she had a firm grip upon the staff they had unearthed on The Isle of Kelan. Now she was back on home soil, her work could start in earnest.
With her only having a small force of men, she would first need to visit two of her training camps, to take on board the next batch of recruits, and drop off the younger boys she had captured on her trip. The recruits of course would need to be checked that they were all under her compulsion spell, as all but her father's remaining soldiers were. Once done, this gave her some peace of mind. If there was one thing she could not stand it was disloyalty to her; hence she took no chances.
Once she had walked ashore, she waited patiently whilst her soldiers, including her newer recruits from Kelan readied themselves. The younger boys she had captured had also been subjected to her compulsion, including Dawid's younger sibling. The two passed within a few feet of each other, yet they may as well have been complete strangers for the notice they gave.
Whilst waiting, she turned to see a familiar sight. A swarm of blackbirds swayed back and forth in the morning sky above. She watched as one of them fluttered down and perched on the harbour beside her. Dalia stepped up closer and touched its head with her fingertip. The bird quickly flapped its wings and moved upwards to join the rest of its kind overhead. Dalia still needed to find the whereabouts of this boy whose face she had seen in the mind of her escaped prisoner. This was still a problem that needed sorting, and sooner the better.
Aboard the ship travelling northwards, Luca had readily accepted the captain's suggestion that he let up on the wind. They had made exceptional progress, but he needed to rest. Luca had never used his powers before f
or such an extended time. This had been the first occasion he had felt it drain his own body's energy. It had been Oliver who had stopped him from falling over, after his limbs had turned to jelly. The Darekian was naturally concerned and helped him walk back to their cabin to rest.
The ship was now left moving under more natural means, although at a much slower pace. Surprisingly Darak did not seem to mind Oliver being the one pampering over Luca, and contently took a back seat. "Wow that was strange," Luca said, attempting to sit up. "Your father had to endure the same problem Luca," Darak said leaning over Oliver to check on him. "Healing used to be the worst one for him. On more than one occasion, he put himself on the brink of death to revive the injured; myself included of course."
After agreeing to take it easy for a while, and to let the captain steer his ship powered by the wind that was blowing naturally, Darak and Taylor left them alone. Luca pondered about Darak's reaction, the man's moods were appearing to be more unpredictable; one minute ranting and raving, the next as if everything was well. Oliver appeared a little more settled now that Luca was looking like recovering. "I'll fetch us some food Luca Sir," the Darekian said. "I will be back as soon as I can," he added slipping out of the door. Luca lay back and stared vacantly at the ceiling. The feeling of exhaustion had been a surprise to him. He had thought himself immune to such things, although apparently that was not the case. He would have to be more careful about such things in future.
