Toria took advantage of the secure footing to pull her water jug from her belt and refresh herself. Remembering Pan she held the jug over her shoulder while the Mountain Child lapped his share. She then replaced it on her belt and reached up to grab another handhold.
A squawk from Pan stopped her. A telepathic injection of fear and caution surged into her brain.
“What’s the matter, Boy?” she asked. “Something wrong?”
She had a quick vision of her hand slipping and her falling. The image was unsettling and she stood still on the outcropping and got her rapid breathing under control.
“Okay Pan, I’ll try another one.”
Toria felt around and found another handhold just above the first one she’d found. She pulled hard on it to test its strength then pulled herself upward. When the first handhold was at eye level her blood chilled. The projection was not part of the wall but was a large rock stuck inside a hole. The moment she tried to pull herself up it would have come loose and sent her falling to her death.
“Thanks Pan. I owe you one.”
The animal sent her another brief image, this one showing him also falling. The message was clear; “You don’t owe me, it was my life on the line also.”
***
Below on the beach Geraar was sitting on the sand with his back against a coil of rope. His eyes were on the figure of the girl far above him. He heard someone sitting down beside him.
“How’s she doing?”
He turned to see Lyyl, Toria’s cousin sitting beside him.
He looked back up. “She’s halfway up, but it looks like the wind is increasing the higher up she goes. It will certainly make it more difficult.” He turned again to look at Lyyl. “Aren’t you worried?”
Lyyl returned his look and smiled. “Of course I am, but I’ve known Toria all of her life. She’s…well, special. I’ve truly never seen anyone like her. When she was five summers she was riding a charon. I don’t mean she was sitting on a saddle with an adult. She was reining it and trotting and galloping. She has always looked for things she couldn’t do and then found a way to do them.”
Geraar looked back up at the tiny figure far above them. “That may be true, but this is no charon ride.”
“True. It is a daunting undertaking. Let me tell you of an event that I recall. I am only a few years older than she is, and our families would often get together. We children would play ‘Find the Cur’ together, it was our favorite game. Once I remember I was the Seeker and had just finished counting to twenty. I quickly found every other player except Toria. After searching every possible hiding place I was eventually forced to concede and called her in. I heard laughing coming from above me. I looked up, and she was all the way at the top of a Lanyard Tree. To this day I don’t know how she climbed it so quickly.”
Geraar smiled. The story was encouraging, and it soothed his worry somewhat.
Lyyl continued: “There are over a thousand warriors here on this beach. None of them are better prepared for this than she is.” Lyyl smiled. “I saw that kiss before she started. Much fortune to you, Good Warrior. A life with Toria will be one of many different adventures. I pray you are a man of endless energy.”
Geraar stared at Toria’s cousin for a moment, prepared to disclaim any interest in sharing Toria’s future. Then he sighed. There was really no use in denying the obvious.
***
Toria hung with only one hand. She had no place to put her feet. The foothold she found a moment before had crumbled and dissolved leaving her legs dangling. Pan had warned her, but she had seen no alternate route so she gambled. Her shoulder now burned from supporting the weight of her entire body. With her other hand she felt around frantically for a projection on which she could grab hold. The rock was wet and slippery with no handholds yet found.
Fear started seeping into her mind. Toria had spent her entire life being successful at overcoming obstacles. It was how she lived her life. Now, when a thousand people were depending on her she was at a point where she saw no possibility to succeed.
She peered upward. She could see the top edge of the cliff. It was only thirty feet above her now. The twine tied to her belt had started out being so light that she never even felt its weight. Now, with so much of it pulling down on her it felt like a ships hawser. The burn in her shoulder was growing so much that the pain brought tears to her eyes.
***
Ruguer leaned in close to Minos speaking so softly that only his fellow king could hear.
“I noticed that Northland has contributed less food, people and materiel than Aspell or Archer’s Gate. Since your kingdom encompasses more fertile farmland than the others I was…concerned.”
Minos tried his best to hold the other man’s gaze. There was an intensity in his eyes that was difficult to endure.
“My dear Ruguer, the war has hit my kingdom hard. The warriors we sent to help you represented a huge expenditure. They had to be fed and supplied. And paid.”
Ruguer continued his unblinking stare. “And yet the other two Coastal Kingdoms both gave more to the effort and continue to do so. Now, when Aspell is besieged by invaders from a strange land you send a mere thousand to aid them?”
Minos was sweating now, but he resisted the urge to wipe his brow. “Well, you must understand…”
Ruguer interrupted him. ‘I understand Minos. I understand more than you think I understand. I see gilded bannisters and marble walls. I see ridiculous and expensive uniforms for your personal guards. I dare say that your storehouses are full while we struggle to feed our people. We struggle because our farms and ranches were destroyed by the invading Grey Ones from which we protected your kingdom.
“The Valley of Olvion is still wet from the blood of our warriors who fought to protect you and your kingdom, and yet now you sit here offering weak excuses for your actions.”
Portus was standing just out of hearing distance, but he could read the faces of the two men. He stepped up on the platform with his hand on his sword pommel.
“Do you require my assistance, Majesty?” he asked.
Ruguer slowly turned his head to regard the Sword of the King. “You have the space of one heartbeat in which to take your hand from your sword.”
Portus looked to his king for guidance. The time he spent on that action was more than the space of a heartbeat. Ruguer exploded from his chair and backhanded the man. The speed and power of the strike propelled the king’s man backward off of the platform and onto the polished floor where he slid for several feet before impacting against a table.
All around the throne room the guards in their colorful costumes drew weapons and started forward. Ruguer’s bodyguard all did the same.
“Stop!” Minos stared agape at Ruguer where he still stood. The King of Northland had heard stories of Ruguer’s abilities but had always assumed them to be exaggerated. The attack on his Sword, however, had been unbelievably swift and powerful. What was more disturbing was that the action was legal. By the law of the four kingdoms no man was justified in threatening any king whether it be by word or action. When Portus placed his hand on his sword he presented a threat.
Minos looked to where Portus was trying to get up off of the floor. He was still reeling from the effects of the backhanded blow. Minos wondered what shape he would be in had the King of Olvion struck him with his fist.
“Stop this now,” Minos ordered his people. He looked to Ruguer who was still glowering at Portus, daring the man to react. “My dear Ruguer, please take your seat. We have much to discuss. Portus, you will apologize to King Ruguer immediately.”
Ruguer shook his head. “I have heard enough and seen enough. I am invoking The Law of the Kingdoms to demand a hearing in front of your parliament. Today! My people and I will take food and refreshment while you gather your members. Have one of your ridiculously dressed guards lead us to a dining facility then send for us when the members are ready.” He turned and pointed to Portus who had finally managed to regain his
feet. A welt was forming on his jaw. “And keep that man out of my sight if you want him to continue living.”
Minos, still shocked, pointed to one of his personal guards who led the Olvionis out of the throne room and to a nearby eating facility.
***
Toria felt Pan on her back. He was scrambling around back there, obviously doing something. She willed him to stop. The activity was distracting her when she needed all of her powers of concentration.
She heard a soft trill coming from him. It repeated several times. It was a pleasant sound. She listened to it with her eyes closed. It soothed her. Feelings of calmness and confidence flooded her mind. She knew that Pan was feeding her what she needed.
The activity that was going on behind her continued for a moment longer. Then something changed. The weight of the twine was released from her belt. She briefly panicked, thinking that Pan had untied the twine in order to lighten her load. The release definitely was helpful, but the twine was the entire reason for the climb. Without it the rope could not be pulled up and secured giving the others a safer method of ascending the cliff face.
Still more weight was removed from her back, and she heard the scrabble of claws on rock. Then Pan was beside her. The twine was held firmly in his teeth. He squeaked three times then quickly scrambled the rest of the way up the rock.
With the weight of the twine and Pan both removed Toria felt a burst of confidence. She looked above her and saw a small projection of rock above her free hand. It was too high to reach, but if she could swing herself it was just possible that she snag it. With the pain in her shoulder now radiating through her back she knew she would only have one chance. Gritting her teeth she began to swing her body, first left, then right. Each time she saw the little clump of protruding rock get a little closer. Finally, just before the muscles of her other shoulder and arm gave out she let go and let the momentum of her swing propel her upward. For a heartbeat she was flying through the air. Then she grabbed at the rock and held on for her life. The sharp edges bit into her hand and blood flowed, but she now had a solid grasp with the rested hand and arm. Her legs flailed around, and she found a place to put her right foot. Then one for the left foot. With the pressure finally off of her arms she took a full ten minutes to rest and regain her strength.
***
Far below Toria, the warriors that were gathered on the beach were all standing. They had seen the drama with the desperate action to hold on to the cliff. Some in the crowd gasped when she swung herself over and flew through the air for several feet before catching a projection and achieving an apparent secure hold. They applauded and shouted when she scrambled the rest of the way up and disappeared over the top of the granite wall.
A moment later her head peeked over the edge, and she held up the twine. Another cheer rose, and two warriors went over to the other end and securely tied the heavier rope to the end of the twine. Then…slowly… the rope started its long ascent up the face of the cliff wall.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
Captain Jile sat in the “Maid o’ the Sea” tavern. He’d had an ale or two and was enjoying the pleasant warm feeling that the beverage provided. The patrons of the tavern were talking among themselves, producing a soft buzz of noise and now and again a string of laughter would erupt. He loved nights like this and loved being around seamen. The glow bulbs overhead produced a soft illumination in the old tavern, and there was a smell of meat roasting in the air.
He was in the city of Chalmus, the only settlement on the large Island of Wastrel. His nine ships floated lazily in the calm waters of the island’s protected lagoon. He knew he should have sold them off by now, but he had not quite been able to take that step. They were not making him any money. In fact, the cost of maintaining them was high. What was a captain without his ships? He turned when the door opened, and the soft breeze pushed in. It was a seaman who opened it. Jile knew that by the way he walked even though his head and face were concealed by a hood. The man obtained an ale from the bar master and walked deeper into the facility.
The tavern was patronized by many different sorts, most of them merely enjoying the distractions provided by the infamous city of Chalmus. Every tavern had its darker customers, and this one had more than its share. Jile noticed several of these men measuring the new arrival. This was a game that was played out wherever men gathered. Whether in a deserted alley or a royal reception hall, when two men met, they instinctively sized each other up to determine who would be dominant. The darker elements present here tonight were making a determination as to whether this new arrival was weak and could be relieved of whatever he carried. Jile noticed that these brigands took a brief inspection of the way the new man walked with his weight balanced and his arms hanging loosely by his side. They also took in the long, thin sword on one side of his hips and the ornate hilt of the dagger on the other. They quickly returned their attention to their own libations. This was not a man to be exploited.
The man weaved between the tables, ignoring the conversations and the occasional curse. He chose a table directly next to Jile’s and sat heavily, expelling a long sigh.
Jile smiled. He got the bar master’s attention and pointed to his ale. The master, a thin man with one eye covered by a bright yellow rag, nodded and handed an ale to a young lad who placed it on Jile’s table and bowed as he backed away. He took a long gulp of the cool liquid.
“Surprised to see you here, Fauwler.”
Fauwler’s shoulders shook a little as he chuckled. He lowered his hood and turned his head. “Why is it I’ve never been able to sneak up on you, Jile?”
The old Captain rose and stepped over to Fauwler’s table, taking a seat. “In order to reach my age in our business you develop an awareness. It’s not all that difficult.”
Fauwler drained half of his ale with one gulp. He took a quick look around the tavern. “Where are your captains?”
“They’re around. They’re waiting for me to decide whether I really want to sell out and find a nice woman somewhere. You’re not here to explore my future plans, however. You’ve sought me out for something. I would guess this was not the first tavern you’ve visited this night.”
Fauwler turned his chair so that the two men could look directly at each other.
“You’ve seen through my clever façade. I have a proposal for you.”
Two hours later the two captains were in another large inn located two streets back from the shore. The other eight men present were the captains of Jile’s fleet. They were sitting at two tables that had been pushed together to accommodate all of them. Jile had requested privacy, and the keeper had led them to a room that was only used when the crowds grew too large to service in the main area.
Jile and Fauwler had just laid out their plans to the assembled seamen.
“Now, I want it absolutely clear,” Jile told them. “This is something that you all must decide for yourself. Every man here has earned enough from our past efforts to live their lives without worry as long as they avoid the gaming tables. I will bear no ill thoughts to any of you who decide to follow that path. Indeed, if you follow me on this venture you risk everything. What you need to ask yourself is if you are ready to change everything about your lives. You might also find yourself sword to sword with old friends in the process.”
Dallen had been one of Jile’s captains longer than any of the others. He was a short man with a full beard and many piercings in his ears. He took a long pull on his ale and spoke. “I have a question. Why? As you said, Captain, we have enough accumulated wealth to last us. Why risk it all on…this?”
Jile looked to Fauwler. The younger captain looked at Dallen. “Where is your home?” he asked.
The pirate captain scratched his nose. “My home?”
“Yes, your home. Is it here in Chalmus? Have you friends here outside of your crew? Family? Have you a home here?”
Dallen looked about himself at the others. “Well Captain, we all have enough to buy a home anywhere.
”
Fauwler nodded. “And how long do you think it will take the nobles to track you down? Can you ever feel as safe as you felt in Kylee?”
The others looked at each other. This was a subject that they had all previously considered.
Fauwler continued. “My home is Kylee. I was drawn there by the promise of freedom. My friends are there. My home. My life. But we were careless, and we allowed it to fall into stained hands. The Council of Captains has now been taken over by men who don’t revere freedom as we do. Events have transpired which now have each of us here banned from our homes in Kylee.
“Not everyone still in Kylee pays allegiance to the new regime there. I estimate there are just fewer than a hundred crews who are loyal to Lampte and Tallun. I don’t know how many men at arms that gives them, but I would estimate at least four to five thousand. These men are not like us, brothers. They follow captains who place no value on human life or human dignity. In truth, they are little different from the nobles from whom all in this room escaped.
“Do you recall the spectacle at the gates of the Aspell stronghold when Tallun had four innocent men beheaded? When did we become that sort? They have now embraced the capture and trading of slaves. When did we become slavers?”
The information regarding slavery sparked a ripple of discussion between the captains. Since they had withdrawn with Jile earlier they had not been aware of this new wrinkle.
The men discussed the issue throughout the night and into the pink dawn. The tankards of ale were replaced by mugs of strong licorice-tasting tea. By the time platters of gruel and smoked fish were passed around they had decided on a course of action.
The main objection that the captains had was taking up arms against old friends. They knew that there were good people on Kylee who may not agree with the new Council’s decisions but would fight anyone who dared to invade their home. It was the single obstacle to unanimous agreement. It was finally overcome when Fauwler agreed to sneak ashore and organize like-minded citizens of Kylee to either abstain from fighting or even join them in their effort.
The Coastal Kingdoms of Olvion: Book Two of The Chronicles of Olvion Page 31
