by LeRoy Clary
I trusted Flier and the girls, but there were simply too many variables. Later, we saw a stand of green trees in the distance and walked in that direction as rapidly as we could. It was a classic desert oasis. As we grew closer, it was easy to discern there were willows, palms, and other deep-rooted plants that grew near water before our hopes were dashed when we arrived to find a reeking mud-hole we could throw a rock across. It contained a stinking brown sludge where animals watered, peed, crapped, and even the rotted remains of a goat lay at the edge of the brown liquid.
My mouth felt all the drier. Flier wordlessly pointed for us to move on. My mouth was parched, my skin pink, and a headache from the intense sun threatened to burst my brain from my head in a splatter of red and gray. My feet felt like the chains were still on them. I lifted my head to find I was probably in better shape than any of the others.
To their credit, not one of them complained. That impressed me more than words can express. Even little Emma walked with slumped shoulders, her toes dragging in the sand with each step, but she trudged on, never falling behind.
We reached a ridge, an escarpment of sandstone no more than the height of a man, but in the distance from that slight vantage, a line of green cut through the brown sand of the Kondor desert. Flier smirked confidently but said nothing as he looked for a way down to the lower ground.
He turned our direction slightly, so we’d encounter the line of trees sooner. The sandy ground turned rocky, peppered with rough rocks from the size of my thumb to my fist. The ground was hard between the rocks. It was as if the desert had been pounded flat and then strewn with rocks large enough to hurt or trip us. In our exhausted condition, it did both.
Flier limped nearly as much as when we’d first met. However, his attitude was growing more pleasant with every step. The line of trees came clearer, and I thought I could smell a hint of water in the dry air. It didn’t matter because the ground demanded my constant attention to avoid the sharp rocks.
When I did look up, the trees were just ahead, and the sound of water reached my ears. “Almost there,” I mouthed hoarsely through lips too dry to form the words properly. When nobody responded as expected, I paused in my anticipation and turned. No one was there.
My wild eyes searched and found four oddities on the ground in the distance behind, small discolorations that didn’t belong. I stumbled a few steps in their direction, knowing they must have fallen from exhaustion. My foot struck a loose rock, and I tried to catch myself, but another rock assured my continued fall. My left knee struck first, and outthrust hands couldn’t stop my face from striking the hard ground.
Slowly, I sat up and examined myself. The knee bled, as did my palms. There was no way to inspect my face, but it was tender to my touch, and rivulets of blood tickled my neck. Standing was unbearable. Four people were waiting for my help, but I was too weak and dehydrated. Dizziness made me wobble on legs that threatened to collapse.
Water. I needed water to regain the strength to help the others. Right now, if I managed to return to them, I couldn’t provide any help. We’d all die in the sun.
Feeling disgraced, I turned my back on them and walked to the shade of the trees, pushed through the undergrowth, and reached the bank of a wide, lazy river. I walked into the water and fell forward, allowing my body to absorb moisture and coolness. Then I drank. My lips slurped until I couldn’t hold more.
I had nothing to carry water, but my clothing was wet. Fearing it would evaporate too fast, I tore my shirt off and formed it into a ball while holding it underwater. Wadded tightly, it would hold water longer. Turning away from the river, I shuffled back to the intense sunlight beyond the shade and then across the rocky ground until I reached Emma. She was lying too still, but as I knelt and rolled her, I saw her eyelids flicker.
My shirt dripped water into her open mouth. I squeezed a little and more fell. She swallowed, and as if the water was a magic elixir, her body stiffened. I gave her more, then said, “Can you stand and walk to the trees? The river is right there.”
Instead of answering with words, probably because she still didn’t speak Common, she looked to where I pointed and nodded. I got her to her feet, and she walked. Flier was next.
He opened his eyes and attempted a smile. I squeezed water into his mouth, and as if it was a tonic, he managed to sit, then said, “I’ll make it. Go get the others.”
He might make it, I decided, if he could stand and remain on his feet, which seemed unlikely. However, once on his feet again, he stumbled after Emma, although he moved slower. I cursed myself for not knowing how to use my small magic to make a container to hold water.
Kendra and Anna were lying beside each other, with Anna’s left leg on top of Kendra’s. They’d fallen together, probably while helping each other. I squeezed water into Kendra’s mouth, but only a few drops emerged from the wadded material. I twisted the shirt, trying to force more water from it. Little came.
Anna weighed half of what Kendra did. I placed the damp shirt over Kendra’s face hoping it would help revive her and protect her from the sun. I got Anna on her wobbly legs. It was obvious she couldn’t walk, so I stood facing her, bent at my waist, and shoved. My shoulder struck her stomach, and I pushed forward until her weight settled on my shoulder as I stood. She was over my shoulder, and I stumbled in the direction of the river.
The water had revived me, somewhat. Not completely by any stretch of reason, but Anna’s weight was slight, and the trees close. I walked on stiff legs to remain upright, and as I reached the trees, Flier emerged. He didn’t speak but gave me a slight nod as he hurried in Kendra’s direction.
I managed to get Anna to the water’s edge and saw Emma splashing her way to us.
*Go help Kendra.* The words appeared in my mind, but there was no time to wonder if they were Anna’s or Emma’s. Since Emma hadn’t spoken to me with mind-talk, it had to be Anna, but my mind was anything but clear. Anna tried drinking too much, too fast and coughed. Emma fell to her knees in the water and placed an arm around her sister.
I took another quick drink and left them there. Soon, I saw Flier stumbling in my direction, Kendra limp and unable to walk at his side. Her toes dragged, and Flier had managed to carry her half the distance. It was clear he wouldn’t carry her much farther.
I half-ran to her other side and lifted the dead weight off Flier. Between the two of us, we moved much quicker and reached the river, where all three of us lay in the cool shallows, drinking as much brown water as we wanted.
Kendra said, “I just want to stay right here.”
“The fish will eat you,” Anna quipped.
Kendra rolled onto her side to face Anna and grinned. “Not if I eat them first.”
Flier laughed and inhaled water in doing so. He choked and tried to laugh some more, but it came out wrong. Anna splashed a palm full of water in his direction, but it struck Kendra. My sister, never one to back away from a fight, splashed her back.
Emma leaped into the fray, and we all splashed and laughed like children at the summer swimming hole. Flier stood, placed his hands over his head and dived into the deeper water. Anna cried, “Teach me to do that.”
“Dive?”
“And swim,” she said, standing and looking like a healthy girl who had not been nearly dead a short time ago.
I didn’t feel like I’d almost been at death’s door either. While still weak, tired, and sore, the water had worked magic on me. The thought of magic made me realize again how little I knew of it. Could I have used magic to form the river water into balls to carry or another magical method to have saved the others? I didn’t know. I suspected any mage worthy of the name would have found a dozen methods.
What I did know were two things. Water revived us in remarkable ways, and our lack of knowledge about magic held us back from possible uses, and perhaps that lack of knowledge placed us in danger. I stood in warm, knee-deep water while considering the dangers of the desert and all we faced.
Food. We
had none. Our meager belongings consisted of my sword and not much else. The longbow was gone, as were the other weapons. Ashore, I laid in the shade and considered our plight. It was far better than this morning, or even a short while ago. People said that going without food for ten days won’t kill you. Going without water for one in a desert will. It all became a matter of location and need.
As if in response to my thoughts, my stomach growled. Anna joined me, tired looking but smiling at me as if I was the sun on a winter’s day. In my mind, she said, *You saved us.*
The appearance of the words sounding in Anna’s “voice” in my head didn’t offend or even upset me. It was becoming natural. Out loud, I answered, “We did it as a team.”
“A family,” she said as she scooted closer and placed her head on my thigh. Her eyes closed, and soon she slept. Flier came next, being sure to move quietly after seeing Anna. He sat under a kind of tree I didn’t recognize, his back to the trunk. He closed his eyes and soon slumped to one side and snored softly.
I had too much to think about but didn’t want to wake Anna, so I closed my eyes to think clearly better. When I opened them, the sun was setting, the air was turning cooler, and all the others were sleeping in a rough circle.
I had learned another fact without realizing it. Being sunburned, dehydrated and thirsty, tired a person in a way that a nap wouldn’t satisfy. While closing my eyes again, I did so with the knowledge that I’d sleep all night, even after sleeping much of the afternoon and early evening.
The chill in the air woke me well before dawn. Anna had managed to snuggle next to me, stealing any warmth I might have. In the dark, I found my wadded up, damp shirt. It helped a little when I put it on, but the night was getting colder.
By morning, we all huddled together, teeth chattering, and the two younger ones whimpered and complained. We had no fire-starters, few weapons, and no blankets. Kondor was a place of contrasts. During the day hats and long sleeves protected against the sun. At night heavy blankets and warm fires were needed.
I said, “Tomorrow we will buy the clothing we need.”
“With what?” Kendra asked. “You had the gold and silver when you were captured. Do you still have it?”
“And where will you spend your imaginary money?” Flier added.
I patted my waist where the small purse containing both gold and silver should be and knew the Slave-Master had bested me again. I almost laughed. While I had gambled a few small coins for my freedom, he had already taken my entire purse when I was captured. In effect, I’d been playing against him with my own money—and then forfeited it to him at the end of the game of blocks. He was probably smiling at this moment.
I did too.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Princess Elizabeth
As a princess of Dire, when looking back at my life, I felt I’d been a failure so far. With four siblings ahead of me to wear the crown, I hoped that day would never arrive, and the chances it ever did were miniscule. The birth of each niece or nephew, the chances moved me down the royal succession list. I’d spent my life, short as it was, carrying messages, planning balls and determining who would be invited, tracking down rumors in the castle, learning to walk properly, eat, sit a horse, and speak to those of my class. All duties and chores of a princess, and all as important as an evaporating fog on a spring morning.
For the first time, my father, the king, had given me a task worthy of a royal. I was to travel to Dagger, the capital of the Kondor Kingdom, and meet with their king. If he were not ruling Dagger, I’d meet with his successor or Royal Regent. If Kondor had no king, I would seek out the ruling body and present myself as the official representative of Dire with the offer of a treaty that would benefit both kingdoms.
All that was worthy of my talents and skills, and there was more. I would also spy on the mages and return with information that might mean the continued existence of Dire. Yet, I couldn’t even sail past a storm to attempt to meet my objectives. To this point, I was a failure as a royal emissary.
That would change.
The information about the Blue Lady the visitor to my cabin refused to leave my mind. It also made me more determined to defeat the mages who prevented the Gallant from sailing south to Vin and Dagger. The small portholes in my cabin were open to allow a modicum of fresh air inside, and a few small steps carried me to the nearest. I looked down at the water racing past the hull.
The captain had ordered all sails set. A bos’n kept men aloft to adjust them, so we sailed at maximum speed. I couldn’t imagine cargo ships with mages keeping up with us. We would reach the extent of their artificial storm and turn south. It was a good plan.
Then, as if a branch in a tree over my head broke and stuck me, a revelation came. The Gallant was built for speed, but the cargo ships carrying the mages could easily keep up with us—if the mages used their magic to speed their ships along. They could increase the wind, make the hulls slide more easily through the water, or a dozen other things to give them an advantage.
My fist clenched. I wanted to strike something, break or hurt it. Even princesses cry when frustrated or defeated. After a good cry, I wiped my eyes and went in search of Will. He would know what to do.
The wind was brisk outside, first slamming the door closed behind me, then it blew my hair into my face so that I couldn’t see. I reached up and took most of it in my fist and held it away. There were few passengers outside in the bright sunshine. The damn storm still sat off to our right, a dark line of clouds broken only by flashes of lightning. Looking at the sea in front of it, I imagined the white waves curling and breaking, turning back any ship that attempted to pass.
The mages wanted to prevent all interaction with the kingdoms up north while they secured leadership of Kondor, the kingdom that separated the upper kingdoms from the lower. An accident of geography, it controlled both the Brownlands and the narrow sea that was the chokepoint that prevented the Gallant from using the great width of the sea to sail around.
Worse, it prevented me from accomplishing the tasks that my king and the people of Dire needed. A slow form of anger grew inside while my eyes searched for Will. Instead of him, I found the purser rushing in my direction.
“The captain sends me. May I have a word, Princess?”
“You may.”
“It appears we cannot outrun the storm. He suggests we again return to Trager and any who wish to continue to Kondor seek other transportation while the Gallant returns to Dire. A number of passengers have made the request.”
My instinct was to object. My intelligence told me differently. Defying the mages by trying to sail past the storm was silly at this point. A land journey, while difficult and it would take far longer, was an option. Returning to Dire without meeting with those officials in Kondor was not.
I gave him a curt nod.
He spun and rushed off. Will appeared at my side, as always, standing almost out of sight at the corner of the upper deck. He didn’t speak or look my way. If I wanted, he was there to serve. I motioned and called, “Come closer.”
He did, keeping his gaze at the boiling clouds, still in pretense we didn’t know each other.
I said, “The Gallant cannot sail to Dagger.”
“We don’t seem to be outrunning it,” he agreed.
“I believe the mages are making the wind increase to sail their ships as fast as this one.”
His head spun to look directly at me. The surprise on his face was easy to see. He turned away again, probably thinking about my revelation and what the possibilities were. Obviously, he had not thought of it himself, but in fairness, few, if any on the ship had.
After giving him time to digest it all, I continued, “We will return to Trager. Hopefully, the damage to the city from that dragon and the fires are contained, as well as the population. Once there, you will go ashore and find the means for a trip overland. Do not hesitate because of my position. I will sit a horse, walk, ride a wagon, or whatever.”
“Yo
ur delegation?”
“Most are not adept to perform the task. They are competent in their own rights, but plan for you, me, and two of my guards. That list may change. Consider the quickest route, plan to hire the best guide, and you may wish to hire fighters willing to rent their swords.”
He turned to face me again. “May I have the rest of the day to think and plan? We can meet here again in the morning, and you can decide if my plans meet your needs.”
“Of course,” I told him and watched him move easily away and into a doorway I hadn’t noticed. I made a full turn and found only a single sailor watching me from aloft. He gave a cheery wave at being caught, but there seemed nothing nefarious in his actions. How often do common sailors have the opportunity to watch a young princess? I returned his wave before going in search of my staff.
There were a lot of decisions to make. Should any of them go? The obvious answer was that all of them should. Each possessed skills in negotiating, transcription, and the study of hundreds, if not thousands of earlier treaties. If none of them accompanied me, and I managed to sign a treaty, but Kondor had its people writing the terms, the result might be worse than no treaty. It might be considered treason when I returned home.
I threw the door to the cabin where they worked and allowed it to slam into the backstop with a solid slap that drew their instant attention. Without preamble, I said, “We’re turning the ship around. Not quitting, by any means. I intend to get to Dagger one way or another, probably by foot—even if it takes fifty or sixty days to walk there across the desert.”
Their faces revealed fear.
I continued, “I would like all of you to go with me but know that won’t happen. If you believe you can make the trip, tell me later. If not, take whatever portion of responsibility you share for the mission, condense it, and present it to me along with alternatives and problems I should be aware of. There may only be three guards and me, so consider our limitations.”
