Zara the Wolf
Page 15
When I noticed that Greystone was showing the first signs of fatigue, I changed my mind about leaving her. Culver might have killed her out of spite, so I stopped, stripped off my saddle, and began running. I used the reins to keep her following, although I ran beside her often and doubted the reins were necessary. I noticed the troopers who were chasing me spurred their horses in the hope of overcoming me. That was the absolute wrong thing to do, as their horses were already highly fatigued. That last burst of speed would drain them faster, kill them if they weren't careful. They gained a little ground for five minutes before their horses began to founder from exhaustion. I ran on. An hour later I had lost the pursuit, so I found high ground where I could keep track of them. I didn't want them to lose me and decide to go back for Shelly. That night, I crossed the Forlorn River, hobbled Greystone in a grassy area, worked my way back about an hour, and started a fire, hoping my pursuers would assume I thought I had lost them. Then I moved to a spot about ten minutes away and waited. Sure enough, a few hours before dawn Culver and four other men surrounded the dying fire and slowly crept in to surprise me. An hour after that, the remaining troops came along. Five were on foot. I moved out, making sure they could see me when I was about thirty minutes away. Because I appeared to be without a horse, they began the chase again. When I reached Greystone, I untied her and we ran together following the Forlorn River, which flowed to the coast about two days from Hipula. I kept them about a thirty-minute run behind me, which was an easy pace for Greystone and me. They stopped early, apparently conceding they couldn't catch me or the caravan.
I waited for dark and worked my way back to their camp, located Culver's tent, and positioned myself about five minutes away, just in case, and hoped the high level of awareness on the blue dimension worked from this distance. I sat and sought my place of comfort as my mind quieted. My world burst into blue, and I could see Culver in his tent.
He rose, smiled, and sat again. "They were right; you do have talent. Join us, friend. You need no longer be a servant to royalty. Their day will soon end, and we talented will rule. Or die." He shrugged, and a giant in armor appeared in from of him and advanced on me. "Join or die."
I raised the image of a warrior and went to meet him. As his triple-sized sword arched toward my head, I ducked under it and struck under his arm at the armpit where there wasn’t any armor. Blood spurted out. The giant became a huge cobra rising twenty feet in the air, fangs a foot long showing in its mouth. My image changed into a giant mongoose, which stood waiting for the strike that would make it vulnerable. When the snake struck, the mongoose had moved aside. Its teeth grabbed the snake and shook it, but as the snake’s head smacked against the ground, it changed into a flaming man. I had to release him, as my mouth felt on fire. I retreated as the flaming man advanced on me. I became a tree and grew as my roots sank deep into the earth and my mind quieted. The flaming man straddled the tree, but the tree was too big and green to set on fire easily. I swung my arm, now a large tree limb, and it smashed into the man and sent him flying several yards away. He grew as he rose, throwing fireballs into the upper branches. They ignited and the heat slowly began to engulf me. I sung another branch, hitting him and driving him to his knees, but he continued throwing fireballs and laughing. I raised my foot, pulling roots out of the ground and leaving a large pit, and stepped on the flaming man, covering him with roots and dirt.
"No!" he screamed, drawing the attention of the guards and some of the sleeping troops. I lifted my other foot and brought it down on him, burying him alive. Strange, but I felt the life drain out of him as he suffocated. The camp erupted in chaos when they found the dead boy and no Lieutenant Culver. I quietly left the area at a slow run. By the time I reached Greystone, it was light. I estimated the caravan was three days ahead of me, but that I could catch it in two. I silently thanked the Ojaza for the running they did every day as I crossed back across the Forlorn River and began a slow and steady run toward Hipula, a pace I knew Greystone could maintain for long periods of time.
I reached the caravan's eight-day camp around midnight. Rather than disturb the camp, I continued on for another hour, made my own camp, and slept.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
HIPULA: Duke Brodka
Several hours after sunrise, the caravan appeared. I mounted and waited. Shelly spurred her horse when she saw me. Lutz followed in her wake.
"You're alive. You look ... dirty and tired, and you lost your saddle. What happened?"
"Later, Lady Shelly."
"That must be some animal, to have outrun twenty mounted troopers," Lutz said as Shelly inspected me from head to foot.
"A horse can run a long way if it doesn't have to carry a saddle and rider."
"How far are they behind you?" Shelly asked.
"If the ones with horses are following, I'd say about three days. But I left them within a day of Budia, so I would imagine they returned to the castle." I shrugged.
Lutz nodded. "Before I met you, I never realized what a distorted view we have of the tribes—thinking that our trained troopers, long swords, and horses would make it easy to go into the mountains and slaughter the savages." Lutz shook his head. "Ironically, your recent encounter with the Indians will reinforce that myth."
"You can't enter Hipula looking like this," Shelly said. "You look like a savage. Actually, as I remember, they looked cleaner." She giggled. She stopped the caravan while I washed and changed clothes and managed to locate an extra saddle. It was old but functional. When we reached the city wall, the sun was low on the horizon. At the gate, we were held for only a few minutes while Lutz, a merchant, paid a few silvers to enter. Hipula was a major seaport, and as a result the city walls only enclosed half of the population. Inside, many of the shops and houses were old but for the most part well maintained. Except for the street leading to the castle, which was cobblestone, the side streets were dirt. The houses looked to be mostly wood and mud construction until we neared the castle, where the houses were made from stone.
The caravan was stopped at the castle gate to wait for a captain to arrange accommodations for the guards and servants. Meanwhile, Shelly and her personal entourage were led to the castle, where a tall elderly man with a serious expression waited at the bottom of the steps of a four-story stone building covered in ivy. This was obviously the duke's minister, dressed in a red jacket, black pants, and a Maroon band from his shoulder to his waist.
"Welcome, Lady Shelly. I'm Minister Millard. Accommodations have been prepared for you and your party. The duke sends his greetings and looks forward to meeting with you tomorrow morning after you have had a chance to rest. The trip from Budia is long and tiring."
"Thank you, Minister Millard. It was a long trip and the rest will be welcome," she said, handing her reins to a young boy and following a young girl who Millard had introduced as Nita. Shelly's rooms were on the third floor. Her suite of rooms suited us perfectly as that meant I could stay close to her. The mission was primarily mine; however, without Shelly I wouldn't have a cover story or the access I needed to succeed.
"Alright, what happened?" Shelly demanded after her ladies had prepared her for bed and left for the night. I folded into a sitting position, warrior style, and she joined me on the floor.
"A horse is faster than a trained runner for a short distance but can't match his stamina over time. I used Greystone for a few hours to tire their horses, then unsaddled her and ..." I recounted the two-day chase and my encounter with Lieutenant Culver.
"You take a lot of chances," she said, clearly concerned. "You're Duke Wetzel's best chance of getting an insight into the Siren's organization. Without you ... "
"I was afraid if I stayed close, Culver might decide to take you prisoner or have you killed, and I couldn't leave him alive to notify his leader to our presence. As Duke Wetzel said, if they discover the dukes are aware of their presence, they are likely to have them killed and then would have an easy path to power. I'm trying to keep them unaware o
f us. And you're in as much danger as I am if we are discovered."
"I know, and I trust you to do what's necessary. I've been meditating each night, while you were gone. It's getting easier, but I'd like to practice with you. It seems we are encountering more Sirens the farther south we go."
"I agree. Duke Brodka doesn't have a Cheyo Monk, so this would be a good place for the Siren society to establish its base and grow—a large city and a seat of power." The Monks' presence precluded this at most dukedoms, so here was a perfect opportunity. "Anchor yourself and we will begin." I quieted my mind but waited, giving her time to get rooted. In my blue world I could see Shelly sitting in a forest, which I recognized as the Black Mountains where the Sheqn lived. I approached her and sat, extending myself toward her.
"Zara. I can feel your presence. It's comforting. Like when you saved me and we sat around talking, sharing a simple meal."
"Can you see me?" I asked, still learning and wishing there was a Cheyo Monk around to get answers. But there wasn't, so I would have to experiment. Wetzel's Monk had said a quiet mind was the key, so I would have to assume that was the answer.
"No. But I know you are here."
"Can you force me out?" I asked and waited. Nothing.
"I don't think so."
"Try thinking about nothing. You'll have to find your own image, but like you are collapsing into nothing—becoming the earth you are sitting on." Over the next hour, I felt a weak resistance.
When we stopped, Shelly smiled. "Thinking of nothing is hard. Thoughts keep creeping in." She laughed. "I tried your idea, but I think sinking roots into the earth works better for me."
* * *
After breakfast, Duke Brodka called for Shelly to meet with him. He appeared to be the oldest of the dukes I had met to date. His long narrow face was drawn and wrinkled, and he looked frail.
"Congratulations, Baroness Shelly, on your new rank. Duke Wetzel thinks highly of you, no doubt. A dangerous assignment for one so young ... and talented?"
"No, Your Grace. My companion," Shelly said. Brodka had ignored me after reading the letters from Wetzel. I presumed he considered me Shelly's security.
"Clever. Your companion goes where you go, so she looks like security and gets to see everything you see." He turned his gaze on me. "Did you attend the Trasslat Monastery?"
"No, Your Grace. The Ojaza Indians captured me when I was very young and made me a slave. Ten years with them taught me to quiet my mind."
"And what have you found so far?"
"We visited Castra, Jqedit, Budia..." I went on to explain what I had encountered and the consequences, leaving out the details.
"Impressive. Wetzel chose well. You two are well matched. I hope you aren’t in a hurry to leave Hipula. I know there are Sirens here, but ... " He shrugged. If you didn't have a Monk or some talent, the Sirens were invisible except for the results of their actions, which might be too subtle to attribute directly to them.
"Of course, Your Grace. We will stay as long as necessary and do what we can to help," Shelly said, excited at being able to help and forgetting the danger involved. I felt sure we could identify most of the Sirens but not sure what we could do about it. We returned to her room afterward.
"I know I shouldn't have promised for you ... " she said as the door closed behind us.
"Like you, I want to help, but we are limited in what we can do without alerting the Sirens and causing more harm than good. Let's not assume anything and take each day as it comes. I think the Sirens will dictate our actions, as they have so far."
* * *
The dinner that evening was interesting. The duke sat Shelly at his table and was clever enough to seat me at one of the secondary tables, although close to Shelly. The main table included his wife, two daughters, Shelly, and a visiting earl. The two connecting tables held around fifty nobles, merchants, high ranking military, and their wives. I was seated between a baron—who ignored me for the lady next to him—and Minister Millard, who for all his outward aloofness had many questions and was a good listener. He was interested in where we had been and the troubles we had encountered, particularly at Budia.
"What did you think of Budia?" he asked, hearing we had stopped there for several days.
"Very isolated," I said, trying to decide how to determine his specific concerns, which probably related to Hipula and the other cities under Duke Brodka. "Do you know the military there? There was one lieutenant that seemed out of place."
"I know most of the officers," he said tentatively.
"A Lieutenant Culver."
"Yes, he's been with the Hipula military for over fifteen years. He served here for many years before transferring to Budia. Why?" he asked. That confirmed my thoughts. The Siren I killed wasn't twenty years old; therefore, he had to have been impersonating Culver.
"He didn’t act like a veteran of fifteen years. Something was wrong about him," I said, keeping it vague.
"I know what you mean," he said after a long silence, but he didn't elaborate.
"Who's the boy serving the duke?" I asked, seeing that telltale blue tinge around him on occasion.
"That's Alf. He has been serving the duke for twenty years. He's a good lad, reliable." He smiled. "Although he's beginning to forget things. A girl maybe? They can be very distracting. No offense," he said quickly.
A Siren more likely, impersonating Alf, I thought. "None taken. Young men are easily distracted," I smiled. "Minister, do you think you could get Lady Shelly a breakfast meeting with the duke tomorrow? I'm sure he would enjoy it. He looks to be enjoying her company. She is planning on visiting the duke's other cities and should seek his permission and advice."
"Yes, of course. It may do him some good. He's not been himself lately." He laughed. The first one I'd seen from him. "Maybe a distraction is just what he needs."
The entertainment was limited to an acrobatic troupe and a juggling trio. Back in the room, Shelly listened as her ladies brought her up-to-date on the latest castle gossip. Nothing on the surface, except there seemed to be many beautiful single ladies available for the right nobles.
"How was your evening?" Shelly asked when her ladies left for the night. "I noticed they put you next to that stodgy Minister Millard. That must have been painful."
"He's not what he appears. He has an inquisitive mind and knows something isn't right. I could tell from his questions and interest. By the way, I believe we will have a breakfast meeting with the duke tomorrow."
"He didn't mention it."
"I set it up with Minister Millard."
"Why? What are we going to talk about?"
"How to stop Alf from poisoning him—"
"You're serious? He's poisoning the duke? How?" Shelly asked as she sat down next to me.
"The place is crawling with Sirens, or as your ladies reported, beautiful single women."
Shelly sat with her mouth open.
"The Sirens are using their talents to influence people and place themselves in positions of power or next to those who are. Consider Lieutenant Culver. He could take out a patrol, arrest me on orders, kill me, and his detail wouldn't question him."
"I wonder who would replace the duke if he died," Shelly muttered, as if thinking out loud.
"Yes, that is a good question. Many a noble would sell himself to be a duke. Time to practice," I said, concerned for Shelly's safety. She seemed more vulnerable than me to the Sirens.
"This learning to be a duchess is more work than I expected." She laughed and closed her eyes.
* * *
Sure enough, early the next morning Millard sent word that the duke had invited us to breakfast in two hours. Shelly sent for her ladies and the rest of the time was spent getting ready. I concluded the life of nobility was not for me.
The duke engaged in small talk while several young boys and girls served the duke under Alf's supervision. After they finished, Brodka dismissed everyone—including Alf, who usually stayed in case someone wanted somethin
g else.
"Well, Lady Shelly, Millard said you had something to discuss with me."
"Actually, Your Grace, my companion has something to discuss with you."
"Alf is a Siren impersonating the real Alf, and I believe he is poisoning you," I said, knowing no nice way of putting it.
He stared at me for a long time between brief looks at his food.
"Your Grace, what food or drink do you have every morning or noon or evening?"
He looked around the table, appearing to study each item before answering. "This fruit drink and these powders my apothecary prepares for me each day based on my healer’s instructions."
"Can I have those powders and the drink and directions to find your apothecary?" I asked, believing either the drink contained the poison or the powders were switched each day. Maybe the poisoner was changing the healer's prescription for some substance of no value.
The duke nodded. "That would explain ... " He didn't finish. "Yes, take what you want. I'll give you directions to Master Yanez and Healer Breen and a letter to talk freely."
After breakfast, Shelly insisted on going with me, which on reflection was a good idea. We found Healer Breen first in his laboratory. The healer was a tall distinguished man with a clean-shaven oval face and gray hair who was dressed in a blue silk blouse and pants, leather boots, and a maroon velvet robe trimmed in gold. Shelly took the initiative, since her title avoided unnecessary questions.
"Healer Breen, I'm Baroness Shelly. If anyone asks, you can say I visited you because I was not feeling well." She handed him the letter from the duke.
He read it, then looked from Shelly to me and nodded.
"Can you tell me what drugs you prescribed for the duke?"
He studied me for some time before answering. "You want to know because ... you believe he isn't getting the right ones. I can assure you Master Yanez—"