Whisper

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Whisper Page 24

by Christine Grey


  Falco chanced a wary look into the stands and saw many of the people whispering to one another, and quite a few who wore smug smiles plastered on their faces. He marked a few of those faces in his mind, intending to deal with them later.

  He turned to Dearra and accepted her offer saying, “It was always my intention to spare you. The silver you will bring to my pocket will strengthen us and bring glory to us all!” Falco paused long enough for the crowd to cheer his wisdom. “Now, my dear, the sword, if you please.”

  Dearra drew a haggard breath and drove the blade deep into the sand in front of her before stepping back.

  Unable to hide his avarice, Falco beamed a smile of triumph as he closed his hand around the magnificent hilt. A hiss sounded plainly, and an ominous wisp of smoke wafted from his closed hand, but Falco did not release his grip. Hear me, Brin’du Drak’Tir, he thought. Submit to me or they die. You have a new master now.

  The blade cooled beneath his touch but only enough so that, though it was still uncomfortably hot, it no longer burned, the only act of defiance the sword could manage after the magic it had so recently performed.

  Falco raised the blade straight above his head and allowed wave after wave of cheering, loud stomping, and calls of “Falco…Falco…Falco…” to wash over him in this, his greatest moment of triumph.

  “Take the girl to my home and see to her comfort.” A round of amused laughter raced around the arena as they all imagined the extent of Falco’s hospitality.

  “Wait! What about Darius? I said I would yield if you spared us both!”

  “I have decided to revise the terms, witch. You, I can ransom, but Darius will bring neither silver nor honor. I feel badly about that, truly I do. Had it not been for the dishonor to my most beloved child, I could, perhaps, be persuaded to spare the boy. I’m not heartless, after all.

  “Darius was to take his final oath to my daughter, but he has cast her aside for a foreigner. He has dishonored her. Breken law says he must pay the price for his betrayal. Unless, of course, Darius can provide just cause for his actions?” Falco knew there would be no reason the boy could come up with that would save his neck, but he felt sure that hearing the boy beg for his life would be a more than amusing way to cap the day.

  Darius shrugged free of his captors and stepped forward to speak. “Good people of Darak! Most excellent and honored lords! I have strayed!”

  The Breken were almost salivating. This was the best entertainment they had had in years. The round of hisses and insults thrown only served to add flavor to the drama as it unfolded before them.

  “I was raised in this fine and noble city. I have trained many of the young sons of the noble houses myself! I, more than anyone, appreciate the opportunities and honor I was granted at your gracious will, for who is greater than the people of Darak?”

  The taunts and jeers subsided, replaced by a few shouts of approval and agreement.

  “I owe you all more than I can ever repay! There are no finer, proud, fierce and noble warriors anywhere! Our word is our bond is it not? For what are we if not honorable?”

  “True! True!” the Breken crowd cheered as one.

  “So, I ask you, most noble Breken, how could I dishonor myself when that dishonor would be a blight on the name of all Breken? How could I take a woman who had betrayed me with another? Though to do so might make my life easier, would it not diminish the name of Breken?”

  The silence that followed was deafening until Mili screeched her denial. “Lies! I am a true daughter of House Falco! No one has touched me!”

  “You dare to accuse my daughter?” Falco said with indignation. Though he knew the wench had probably been with half his guard by the time she was sixteen, she had been wise enough to keep that secret very well, and if a few of the men might have thought to use her indiscretions to their advantage, and had gone missing, it was no great loss, so long as she cleaned up her own messes.

  But to be so publicly accused had put him in a very tight spot. If Falco killed Darius outright it would be a clear admission that he had something to hide. Falco was not ignorant of the fact that the boy’s overt flattery of the crowd had swayed some of them. It was then he realized that what had begun as an enjoyable game had spun wildly out of his control.

  “I do,” Darius responded flatly. “She has been unfaithful, and I could not dishonor myself, my family, or my people by making a joining with so low a person.”

  “Are we to believe you?” Falco mocked. “You who are the lowest of traitors? If you make claim, then name the man!”

  Darius had formed the plan in his head, and it all hinged on this moment. Pointing, Darius said loud enough for all to hear, “I accuse Jacob of Maj!”

  The Breken rose to their feet in outrage, though in reality they were thrilled with the turn of events. Mili continued to howl her protests, but they went unheeded by the excited crowd.

  The Breken guard shoved Jacob roughly, until he was before them. He looked frantically around for any chance at escape.

  There was nothing Falco could do but ask the question of the trembling foreigner before him; the crowd would accept nothing less now: “You are accused of dishonoring the noble of House Falco! Speak the truth!”

  Darius willed the wretched Jacob to see this as his only chance for life. If he denied the charge, he and Darius would both die, Darius almost immediately, and Jacob not long thereafter in some sort of “accident”, but if he played it right, he might just live to see another day.

  His mind spinning, Jacob swallowed hard and looked around him at the angry glares. What had Darius been thinking to name him? Of course he hadn’t slept with Mili, how vile a suggestion! He wanted no one other than Dearra. But Falco’s promise to him had already been broken, and his life hung in the balance. These people could not be trusted. The only things they seemed to value were power and the frail illusion of honor.

  Honor indeed! These people twisted everything to their own advantage, concerned only with how something might look, rather than what it actually was. Maybe there was a way he could use that to his advantage?

  Jacob decided to throw himself at the feet of the Breken lord in supplication. “She said she loved me!” he protested. “She promised to join with me! How could I deny her? I was entranced by her beauty. I believed her word that she would have me! A lowly stranger such as I could never dare to dream so high, for is not the house of Falco the most worthy of all houses? You will honor your daughter’s vow to me, won’t you, my lord?”

  Darius allowed himself to breathe again. Jacob might be a slimy maggot, but at least he wasn’t completely stupid. Jacob may possibly just have saved more than one life today.

  Falco scowled at the worm that slunk before him in the dust. “Guard!” he said. “Take the two prisoners to my house to await my further pleasure.” The guards sprang into motion and began to urge Darius and Dearra from the arena.

  “And you, Jacob, rise and brush yourself off. It seems we have a wedding to plan.”

  The crowd thundered its approval. It had been a very satisfying day.

  Chapter 44

  Phillip

  We did it! We got Carly and Daniel out! Okay, so mostly it was Zuzu, but I helped a little. I saw them bring Dearra back, so at least I know she’s still alive, but she looked pretty worked up, and that Breken guy she was with didn’t look much better. I only got to see them for a second before they were hurried off somewhere. I’ll find out where. I have Zusia to spy for me, and she doesn’t miss much.

  Now that we got the two of them out, I guess I will have to see what I can do for Dearra, but that’s going take a lot more thought. I have a feeling they’re going be watching her pretty close.

  It’s all one big mess. I can’t see how this is going to end well. Where are you, Father?

  Chapter 45

  Hugh gazed around in wide-eyed fascination. The city of Darak was like nothing he had ever seen before. Throngs of people swarmed in every direction at once. There was so
much going on that it was hard to know where to look first.

  The caravan arrived before dawn and set up camp just outside of the great city. The fairies, bless them, had handled everything with an inherent calmness, seemingly completely at ease. When Hugh asked Aesri how she could be so serene when surrounded by such dangerous people, Aesri quietly assured him that the Breken would not be foolish enough to risk incurring the wrath of the Etrafarians.

  Wearing the garb of a local tribe, Hugh chanced a look through the city. Aesri had taught him how to make a hand gesture that would indicate he was a deaf mute, just in case anyone tried to speak to him. This would prevent the locals from recognizing his accent and betraying him to the noble houses of the city.

  Darak came alive around him as he strolled. Vendors opened shops. The aroma of fresh bread wafted on the dry desert air. The clanging of pots and pans sounded as they were moved from fire to cooling racks, and, even once, as they were flung at a slave who’d moved too slowly. Dirty children scampered here and there carrying messages in their grimy hands. Dozens upon dozens of dogs roamed in packs, stopping every once in a while in their endless hunt for food to fight amongst themselves.

  Hugh was mostly ignored. The few times he was approached to purchase wares, he held his hands to his ears followed by a downward slashing gesture, and he was promptly dismissed as not worth the effort.

  As he worked his way steadily toward the towering facade of stone at the city’s heart, he began to hear loud cheering and a guttural speech that bespoke cruelty. A large crowd congregated in a wall of humanity that blocked his view. Hugh dared a gentle nudge through the crowd to make his way closer to the front of the masses.

  When, at last, he broke through to the fore, he saw a dozen Breken wearing the colors Hugh recognized as House Falco, positioned in a lazy circle in the open space before him. Two additional guards stood in the middle of the ring. In one hand they held a lead rope and in the other a long whip which they flicked at their captives with painful accuracy.

  Hugh was horrified to realize it was Dearra who trotted at the end of one rope and Darius at the other. They had been made to wear forbidding metal collars about their necks, and to run in wide circles around their captors. It was then Hugh noticed why they continued to run, though he could tell they were completely spent; whenever they slowed, and sometimes even if they didn’t, the guard’s whip would flick forward and fiercely bite the small boy who sat, tied between them.

  Phillip, to his father’s horror, was huddled on the sand in a tight ball. His shirt had been torn in multiple locations, and little patches of red bloomed across his small frame.

  Hugh’s howl of anguish was drowned out by the crowd’s rapturous roar as the whip, once again, sliced through the air and ended with the sharp cracking sound of leather on skin. Dearra stumbled, and then forced herself to increase her frenzied pace.

  Plan be damned! There was no way Hugh would stand there and watch his children suffer. He tried to take a step in their direction, but his feet would not obey his command, and he had to steady himself against one of the spectators, too caught up in the spectacle to pay him any mind. Hugh looked down at his feet and could only stare. They had been completely encased in a solid block of ice. He strained to break free of his frozen shackles, but a small hand stayed his struggles.

  Niada stood next to him, covered head to toe in her fairy cloak. Hugh hadn’t said more than three words to the tiny Etrafarian since he’d met her. She seemed pleasant enough, he supposed, but not nearly as approachable as Aesri, who always seemed to be smiling or at least about to smile. “Wait,” she whispered to the Lord of Maj, who was still struggling to release his feet from the block of ice.

  “Stop!” Falco said. He sauntered forward, holding his hand up to command silence. Dearra collapsed onto the sand, panting heavily. Darius remained standing, his chest heaving as he struggled for breath. “That’s enough for today!” Falco said to his guard. “I wouldn’t want to push my new pets too hard on their first workout.” He stressed the word “first”, making sure that all knew there would be additional performances to come.

  The guards yanked the leads cruelly and led the captives back to a chamber in the stone walls, into which Hugh could not follow.

  Their entertainment ended, the crowds quickly disbursed, and Hugh felt his feet free from their icy restraints at last. “What do you think you’re doing? Those are my children. My Children!” Hugh said, seething.

  Niada shushed him. “Lord Hugh,” she said as she led him away, “what did you hope to accomplish? Would your presence have helped your children?”

  “At least they would have known I was there. They would not have felt abandoned by their father!”

  “Do your children have so little faith that they assume that if they cannot see you then you are not with them? I think not,” Niada softly scolded.

  “We have a plan,” she continued. “We must stick to it if we are to free your children and rescue Brin’du Drak’Tir. We have a saying: Athraíonn an abhainn chúrsa mhéad uair, ach ní chuireann sé imní ort, ar feadh tréimhse nach bhfuil sé riachtanach i gcónaí a fhios ag an mbealach. It means, the river changes course many times, but it does not worry, for it is not always necessary to know the way. You must find patience, Hugh.”

  “Well, if it’s all the same to you, I would like to do something while I still have children to save.”

  “Silly man,” Niada chided. “If it is Rah’s will, nothing can prevent it, and if it is not, then no force in Heaven or Earth will sway His course.”

  “If you really believe that, why bother to act at all? Why not just let mighty Rah handle it all while we mere mortals simply sit and wring our hands in helpless anticipation?”

  “We are but clay in His hands; He molds us to His will. His ways are not our ways, and we know not what His plans are for us. Does the wood question the hand of the carpenter, or the steel offer advice to the blacksmith? Have faith, Hugh! Sometimes the loudest sound comes disguised as a whisper.”

  Chapter 46

  Daniel watched Carly as she lay resting in the meager shade of what could charitably be called a bush, though a sparse tangle of weeds would have been more accurate, and he cursed the Breken for the hundredth time. The Breken child had said that they would be taken a ways outside the city and dumped. Daniel supposed that was technically what had happened, but clearly, “a ways” was a subjective term.

  They had bounced in the back of a dilapidated cart, which felt as though it would fall apart at any moment, for hours. Every bump drew a muffled cry from Carly’s lips, and Daniel thanked Cyrus that the sound of the creaking cart and the loud banter between the four Breken chosen for the gruesome duty had been enough to cover her stifled moans. When they had finally stopped, Daniel prayed the men would simply dump them and leave quickly. Instead, Daniel and Carly were forced to endure several more hours of their vulgar joking while they’d passed a skin of fermented wine between them.

  When they had finally been able to emerge from their death shrouds, they found they had no idea where they were. The sun was already sinking in the west, and the temperature had started to cool, which was pleasant enough, but it would not remain so for long. Though Carly’s strength had not yet seemed to have returned to its former vigor, and it had taken her more time than Daniel thought should be normal for her to get the fire going, it was only Carly’s burgeoning skill that had spared them from a most unpleasant night.

  They rose before dawn and headed in what they hoped was the general direction of Bandar. Daniel didn’t want to upset Carly, but the only thing he knew for sure was that they were traveling south, and not that they were in any way making their way back to the port city.

  When the sun reached its zenith, Carly asked to rest a moment. “I’m just so thirsty,” she said through parched lips.

  “I know, dearest. Maybe you could try just once more?”

  Carly pushed herself into a sitting position and held her hands before her in
a position she often took when trying to use her powers. In this position, she always looked to Daniel like a fragile bird waiting to take flight. Her tiny fingers poised delicately in front of her, she began to chant softly. A wisp of a cloud tried to take form above her head, but before it could grow into something more substantial, a hot desert wind blew to steal the life from it. Carly slumped back to the sand and lost consciousness.

  Daniel dropped to his knees and cradled her in his arms. She still breathed steadily, and he hoped that she had merely exhausted the last of her strength, but even if it was due to something more, there wasn’t much he could do about it. Daniel wondered how many more times he would have that thought. He was tired of feeling powerless, as if he had little say or choice in anything he did, always being pushed or pulled down a path they did not wish to travel. The choices they had been given since they’d arrived were not choices at all—always to go on or give up.

  With nothing else but frustration and worry to occupy himself, he lay beside her and tried to use his body to provide some shade from the glaring sun and to block the blowing sand that had already chafed her once flawless skin. Eventually, he, too, drifted into a fitful slumber.

  ***

  Daniel awoke hours later to find that darkness had wrapped itself around the Breken landscape. He felt sand everywhere. It was insidious and had crawled inside his boots to rub his skin raw in spots. Even his mouth, it seemed, was not safe, for his tongue felt as if it were coated with a fine layer of gritty dust. Carly remained unnaturally still by his side. If they were going to travel, it should be now, but he doubted they would get far.

  Daniel shook Carly, ever so gently. “Carly, dearest? You’ve got to wake up.”

  She moaned and swatted at him, which he took as a good sign. Any indication that she might be gaining back some of her lost strength was a relief. Even so, she was going to need water, and soon, if she was to maintain any of that strength. Daniel felt like kicking himself for not asking the Breken child to bring them some to take with them.

 

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