by LeRoy Clary
I turned to face the dour little man. He never smiled, and his remarks were often rude in the past, but usually in the abrupt way used by those who sell their products for a living are. It was not intentional, just part of the trade. “I don’t.”
“Nor I,” he said. “Safety at sea is always a concern. An overzealous captain may get us there sooner or sink the ship. I can swim, but when land is not even within sight, what direction am I to paddle?”
He had a point. Of course, the sun would provide the direction, but despite those who believe they know everything, much of the day a swimmer who lived on land would not know the direction. With the sun high in the sky, it was hard to tell, and a person might swim in circles.
I turned away and observed the few others venturing from their cabins. A woman and man, both friends of Damon, glanced my way, then averted their eyes in the usual manner of those who rarely interfaced with royalty. Their action assured me they were of a lower class.
There had been another man who also watched me, but he had disappeared while on our last voyage. Will gave me no information when I asked him about it, but his hesitation before answering was suspect. Some thought the man fell overboard. I thought he might have had help from Will in getting over the railing.
The ship made a slight turn in the direction of the storm after the sailors put up more sail and pulled ropes taut. The purser stood on the deck above where the wheelhouse was located. His eye met mine. I gestured for him to come. He did, slipping down a ladder and crossing the rolling deck as easily as a cat might.
“May I be of service, Princess?”
He was a stuffy, prideful man, but had his uses. “The extra sail?”
“Ah, the Gallant is a fine, fast ship. Slim at the waist and tall in the sails. The captain is trying to outrun the storm. The winds are higher near the storm’s edge so that we can sail faster.”
According to Kendra, there was a pair of ships on the other side of the storm, each with two mages. They were creating the impassible storm, preventing all ships from Trager sailing to the ports of Kondor by blocking the narrow passage. Without even knowing about the two ships, the captain might have stumbled on a viable solution.
The Gallant was a smaller ship than the usual cargo vessels in the nearby waters, with a narrower hull and more sails, as the purser had said. She was built for speed to please passengers and carried little cargo. If the mages were aboard a normal vessel, especially a fat cargo ship, the Gallant might easily outrun them and then turn and make her way south where the sea was wider and the water calm.
“Why are we sailing closer to the storm?” I asked.
The purser glanced around and moved a step closer as his voice lowered. “There are rumors that the storm is not natural. It does not move. Some say a mage caused it. If so, he must be on a ship.”
I feigned surprise. “And if we manage to sail around the storm? What will the mage do then?”
The purser’s arrogant demeanor wilted. He obviously hadn’t considered that outcome. His eye went to the bridge on the higher deck where the captain would be. “I think I’m needed.”
As he raced back up the ladder, I had little doubt that he was going to rush to the captain with a new question about the mage. No matter, the captain should be planning ahead. That was the function of his position, much like her father’s. He didn’t so much as rule, as he anticipated problems and solved them before they became major obstacles. Captains of ships are similar to kings; only their kingdoms are smaller and float. The job is much the same.
I left the deck and went past the door to my private cabin, and the next, which was for the storage of my belongings. The third and last was a cabin located on the port side for my aides to work in, an office of sorts. They were inside, maps spread, notes jotted, ink drying. The three of them were hammering out the details of a possible pair of treaties. They debated, contrasted, and argued every word, much as they would when we met with the ruler of Kondor. They had one treaty for a king to sign and another for a committee, a Council of Nine, depending on who we dealt with.
The three worked on verbiage, as well as what might be demanded, and what Dire might relinquish. There were lists of gives and takes. If we gave this, Kondor would agree to that. It was all going to be presented where we gave little and received all, however, those in Kondor would have their interpretations and demands. My staff tried to anticipate all eventualities and account for them.
“Princess,” Lady Grace said as she attempted a curtsy in the limited space despite my instructions to the opposite. The ship was no place for royal manners. She still wore a purple-yellowish bruise on her forehead and a cut under her eye from a fall during the last storm.
“How are you faring?” I asked.
Soren answered with the taint of disapproval in his tone, “If only Kondor would allow us to draft the entire treaty without their input.”
I’d never heard humor from him but laughed as if misunderstanding. By myself. He didn’t, Lady Grace averted her eyes to remain uninvolved, but clearly disapproved of him speaking like that, and Timor, a younger version of Soren simply looked confused. I said, “The ship is turning into the storm again. I don’t expect us to face what we did before, but you had better be prepared and have everything secured. No doubt, we will find some rough seas.”
The eyes of all three changed. The last time the Gallant had sailed into the same storm it had barely escaped. The people on my staff had never been to sea, and the mention of another storm instilled fear. I searched for calming, but true, words and failed to find them.
I went to my cabin and did as I’d suggested they do. Everything was placed where it was secure, and if possible tied down against the rolling of the ship. A knock at my door relieved me of endlessly preparing for a storm I didn’t wish to face.
When I opened the door, a man stood in the passage. He had boarded in Dire and sailed with us. His age was older than most on the ship, perhaps fifty, his hat was being wrung in his nervous hands, and his voice came slow and stilted, in a soft voice hardly above a whisper. “Princess, there are rumors.”
“There are always rumors,” I snapped. “Are you here to share some of them?”
“May I step inside? There are eyes and ears everywhere on this ship.”
I threw the door to my cabin open and stepped back. Why allow a man into my private quarters to spread rumors? I couldn’t answer that. However, it was too late. He closed the door as I curled the fingers on my hands into fists, just in case.
He noticed the action. “Princess, I mean you no harm and suspect you have been trained to fight to defend yourself and you would quickly defeat me.”
“You said there are rumors.”
“Some believe a mage is creating the storm to our starboard.”
I didn’t know if he had any useful information or not. We were feeling each other out, deciding what, and how much, to share. However, I was unwilling to provide fodder for his rumors if that was all he wanted. “The mages are blamed for everything.”
He swallowed hard; his eyes moved from mine as if he wished he’d never knocked at my door. Then, in a gesture of honor and pride, he squared his shoulders and looked me in my eyes. “Princess, I have been a loyal subject of Dire, as was my father and his. The rumors I carry may not be of substance, but if I did not bring them, and any harm came to my royal family, I could not forgive myself.”
He sounded sincere. A nod of my head allowed him to continue.
“I travel in my work, to all the southern kingdoms. The mages in many lands are killing kings, they say. They, the mages, take over and rule as councils or advisors.”
He seemed to believe as we did, but he was still holding back. “Mages have always supported the crown and helped Dire. You believe something has changed.”
He tilted his head as he heard footsteps in the passageway and didn’t speak until he opened my door a crack and peered out to be sure we were alone. Then, after a deep breath, he said, “There is
one mage nobody knows, but there are whispers—he’s a very young one with ambitions of his own, ambitions beyond those of any king. He orders the other mages to do his will. Or they die.”
“They go along with that?” I asked, astounded at the idea.
“Not all. The same rumors say nearly half the mages in the known world that were alive two years ago are now missing.”
“Missing?” I mused while trying to understand both the basic concept and how it related to events in Dire. It seemed all too plausible. “What do you know of this young mage? How did you come across this information?”
He pulled back just enough that told me I’d gone too far with my rash questions and scared him or broached a subject he didn’t wish to discuss. A flash of fear crossed his face. His hand moved to the door.
I moved to place my foot against the door, so he couldn’t open it. My voice turned cold. “I don’t know who you are, your name, or why you are here except that you say you are loyal to my father. I will not share anything you tell me, nor will I spread your information about unnecessarily, but it’s probably best if you do not share any personal information. I’m sorry I asked about your source. You must have a good reason for what you’re doing.”
He visibly relaxed but his eyes remained on my toe blocking his passage. As if my words convinced him to add to his story, he softened his voice to a whisper. “My little brother was taken from us years ago. The mages did it. They came to our farm and left with him, and it nearly killed my mother. Now, he somehow manages to touch my mind when I sleep. At first, I thought they were dreams, but no, it’s him. Sometimes, months go by without contact, but then there are times he comes to me in the night, almost every night, especially in times of turmoil. He says to warn our king of danger. I am not crazy. It really happens, but you can send me away, and I’ll leave.”
“I know something of mages, magic, and many things that are better unknown. We understand little of it and try to live with what we see and understand what we can. I believe you.”
He was relieved, but his voice stayed soft, more of a hiss than a whisper. “He told me to speak to you in private and tell you what I have said. There is one more thing he wants me to pass on to you, the most important part of it, he said, but I have no idea of what it means, only the words he placed in my head.”
“Tell me.”
The old man hesitated for a brief instant, then plunged ahead as if he too was a ship sailing into a dangerous storm, “The woman dressed in blue light is, in reality, the young mage who is behind the chaos.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Damon
Kendra and the Slave-Master had come to an uneasy and unspoken understanding about which of them was the toughest of them. I stayed out of it and decided I liked the image of Damon in the Kaon language. A demon. Of course, I needed to find out more about minor and deceptive demons, but overall, it suited me. My entire life had been a deception hiding my skills of controlling minor acts of magic.
Their debate revolved around which of them was the nastiest, the hardest fighter, and the strongest. Personally, since I had known her my entire life, I gave the edge to my sister, although the Slave-Master seemed to have more practical experience at being crude and mean. It was like watching a pair of warriors after each had finished two full bottles of wine and were trying to convince the other of their prowess with the opposite sex. Some of their tales undoubtedly held kernels of truth, but the trick was in knowing which kernels and how many.
Anna had grown bored with their talking and wandered off with her sister and threw a stick across the open meadow where the slave camp had been set up. Emma chased the stick and tried to match the throws of her older sister, and the stick always fell short. I watched both in fear and anticipation of either of them using magic. Neither did. Not yet.
Kendra settled next to the Slave-Master on the desert floor and asked, “You are from Kaon?”
He snorted with derision, “No, I was born in Frampton, a land to the south of Kondor. Far to the south.”
“How did a nice man like you become a Slave-Master?” she asked. “I’m sure you didn’t wake up one morning as a child and say to yourself, I think I’ll grow up to one-day wreck homes and destroy innocent lives.”
He paused, a slight smile twitching the corners of his lips. Then he spoke, “There was once another Slave-Master. I was his slave. He captured me while I was drunk and in bed with two evil women. They had taken pay to exhaust me and pour wine down my throat until near sunup. He took me prisoner without a fight, and I was destined for the auctions where I anticipated my sale would set new records.” He flexed his biceps.
“You escaped?” she asked, not laughing or even acting like she heard his attempt at humor any more than he’d paid attention to hers.
“No, not escaped. Running away does not suit me. Instead, I killed him during the second night of my captivity. Then I killed each of his three guards without waking the others. I placed my chains around the neck of the metal worker who tended the chains and told him that if he freed me, I would let him live and keep his job. He struck the pins, and I kept my word until forced to kill him a few days later over an incident with an ugly woman and a few tankards of sour ale.”
“The metal worker went with you when you escaped?” Kendra asked.
“Went? Escaped? Hell, we didn’t go anywhere. I had a string of slaves to get to the auction houses of Kaon to sell and profits to be made for my purse. We became partners until he became unreasonable with that woman. I killed her, too, but that’s another story. I don’t wish to make myself sound like a crude man.”
I needed to change the subject or vomit. “Tell me about the government of Kaon.”
He scowled at me for interrupting his stories, then shrugged before answering, “It’s fine. I mean, it’s not like I ever met the king or anything. Just saw him a couple of times.”
“The king?” I asked.
“Yes. I forget his name, but a big guy. Eats like a pig, they say.”
Kendra said, “Ever hear of the Council of Nine?”
“Kondor,” he said instantly and with distaste. He spat to one side. “The men from there are weak, and the slaves sell for minimal. But, there are plenty of them, and they are easy to take. Some even volunteer. It’s better than starving, so it’s easy for me to gather them up.”
“They agree?” Kendra asked before I could.
He said, “Now that you know all that, am I such a bad person?”
“You are,” she said and ignored his crude laughter. “Tell me about Kaon.”
He looked ready to refuse, then abruptly changed his mind. “What do you want to know?”
“I’ve barely heard of it. Where does it lie? To the north is Dire, yet you hint it is up there when I know differently.”
He nodded as he used a stick to draw in the sand. “Maps would help. However, I know of Dire. Not directly, but from maps. Your kingdom backs up to mountains that cannot be crossed.” He drew a rough U-shape in the sand.
“That is Dire, but what of Kaon?” Her voice had grown sharper.
“Traveling across the land on this side of the sea will reach the southern end of the land that borders the sea. That is Kaon. It follows the western coast north, on the other side of those mountains that protect Dire from the likes of us, and our Kaon warriors.”
I pictured it in my mind as well as his drawing. “Do the mountains go all the way to the sea?”
“They do.”
Kendra said, “So, my home is protected from invasion from Kaon, and from slavers like you, even though it is the nearest kingdom to ours. The sea is the only way to reach us. I suppose we should thank the mountains for our security.”
Her smile was almost a snarl, but his was equal. He said, “Yes, you are well protected in your land, cut off from the rest of the world except by a sliver of a seaport.” His smile grew to an evil grin before he continued, “Unless, of course, there is a Waystone or two nearby.”
The
mention of a Waystone stilled her as much as if she’d been frozen by a winter storm and spring hadn’t yet thawed her. Then her eye moved to catch mine. I heard Anna complaining that Emma was now throwing the stick farther than her but used magic to do it. I was torn as to who should get my attention.
“What if there is a Waystone?” I asked.
He turned to me. “Then, even if you close off that little port on the river the mages can reach you. They can wink into existence, do their dirty deeds, and wink out again before you know they’ve arrived. Although to be honest, there is usually only one of them at a time. I think Waystones have limitations.”
The Slave Master had accidentally passed us information while being just a little too cute while trying to be clever with my sister. His mention of the Waystones, and his foreknowledge of how that information would strike us was intentional. In his eyes, it was obvious he wished he could reach out into the warm air and snatch the words back.
That’s what happens when you try too hard to impress a pretty girl.
Kendra recovered first. “Waystones? I haven’t heard of them. Explain them.”
“They’re nothing. Just rumors and lies.”
She leaned closer and said, “Tell me.”
He was uncomfortable, and his voice came stilted and awkward as if they scared him. “Big rocks. Mages like them and some people think mages live in them. I know that sounds silly, but I’m just telling you what I hear.”
“Live in rocks?” Kendra asked. “Why would someone do that, even if it is possible? Why not in a beautiful little cabin on a mountain lake instead? That’s what I’d want.”
She had deflected his words back upon themselves and added her personal opinion. I’d watched Elizabeth and her practice that skill for endless sessions. First, they questioned, then added a second question before finishing with a personal anecdote. It assured the flow of more information.
“There are stories where nobody is around, and suddenly a mage is there. It always happens around Waystones.”
