Prophecy's Quest

by A. S. Hamilton

  'If you do not know, then you are not exactly useful, are you?'

  The seer did not reply. In truth, she had not the breath to spare.

  Releasing her, Nathan grabbed the seer by her hair and wrenched her head back. Drawing a blade, he crouched next to her.

  'Hurts, does it?' he asked tracing a part of the scar that ran the length of her body, starting at her neck and ending at her ankle. As the blade slid along her collarbone, Toormeena felt herself start to tremble.

  'Lord Kennelm,' Nisari's voice was soft, but commanding.

  As Nathan released her, Toormeena collapsed on the floor.

  'What are you doing here, Nisari?' Nathan growled.

  'The Great Lord Abbarane has instructed me to advise you that Toormeena is to be left untouched. You may question her, but without making physical contact.'

  The Thane stalked towards Nisari. He went to grab her arm so he could pull her off to one side, away from Toormeena, in order to talk to her privately, but he his hand went right through her.

  'I am not physically present, Lord Kennelm. The Great Lord Abbarane requires my skills and cannot afford my lengthy absence. I can assure you, though, my words are the Great Lord Abbarane's words. To dismiss them or breach their instruction is to offend against The Great Lord.'

  The sound of shattering of glass exploded through the room as Nathan flung his dagger at one of the glass tables and then stalked from the room. The guards hesitated, unsure of what to do.

  'Return to your post outside,' Nisari ordered them. Turning her attention to the seer, Nisari said, 'I apologise for taking so long. Ko-rayen will be with you soon and ease your hurts.'

  Nisari's words brought her some relief, although she was reluctant to admit it. Even though Ko-rayen was loyal to Nisari and Colnba's cause and thus Malithorn Abbarane, he had also been her friend for centuries and she would find his companionship a comfort, right now. Still, Toormeena pushed herself up to look at Nisari's image. 'Instead of apologising, Nisari, why not prove your good will and release me?'

  'I regret your suffering, Toormeena. I remember quite vividly my own torment at Keldon's hand. Like you, it left me permanently injured. But you know the answer. To release you, is to give the Saviour unfettered access to you. We will not give him such an advantage.'

  'Yet you allowed him to visit,' the seer pointed out, closing her eyes in an attempt to shut out the pain. For they had, surprisingly, allowed the Saviour in through their wards to see her.

  As she opened her eyes again, Nisari gave her a grim smile. 'That was not without its benefits.'

  Toormeena did not register the passing of time, yet it must have passed, for when she next opened her eyes she was in bed, with the bed curtains drawn. Her body thrummed with low-level pain, but the searing fire had faded. Someone moved and then Ko-rayen parted the curtains and sat on the wide frame bordering the bed.

  'I shall kill him as soon as I can get away with it.'

  He meant Nathan Kennelm.

  Toormeena sighed. 'There are many others who can replace him. Death is not always the answer, Ko-rayen.'

  Huffing disconsolately, Ko-rayen smoothed back her hair. 'I hate this part the most. I have to do a lot of objectionable things, but this… not being able to openly protect you…'

  'The pain is better than it has ever been,' Toormeena consoled him.

  Her remark earned a brief smile from the warrior-mage. 'I have been studying. I am not a healer, of course. Will never be the kind of healer you need—'

  'You do what you can. There are not many healers who can repair the injuries I have. It is enough that you ease the burden on my body.'

  'No,' Ko-rayen demurred. 'It is far from enough. I would give all my talent to restore you. Every single drop of it.'

  'You do not have to give up your talents, Ko-rayen. You just need to release me to the rebels. Belon of the House of Neran is among them and it is within her skill to heal me.'

  Abruptly, Ko-rayen rose. 'We have discussed this before. It is much more complicated than simply 'releasing' you.'

  Immediately Toormeena regretted her words. 'I am sorry, Ko-rayen. That was unfair of me. I made the decision to surrender in order to save my mother, you are not responsible for my incarceration.'

  Ko-rayen returned to her side. Stroking her cheek, he shook his head slightly. 'I know killing him will not solve everything, but it would definitely make me feel better.'

  Toormeena gave him a sad smile. 'I know. But Fate has other plans for Nathan Kennelm.'

  That caught Ko-rayen's attention, he frowned. 'What do you know of Nathan Kennelm's future? No. Wait. Do not tell me. If I do not know, I can lay claim to ignorance's sanctuary. I just hope his death is beyond excruciating. Let us dismiss the dismal world of Abbarane's thanes and talk of something neutral.'

  'All right,' Toormeena agreed readily, 'tell me of this study you are doing.'

  Ko-rayen signalled for her to sit up and drew the bed cover down. Sitting at the other end of the bed, he started to massage her sore leg as he spoke of the healing techniques he had been researching.

  Toormeena allowed herself to sink into the comfort of his voice and gentle touch.

  Chapter 2

  Day 2 – Before Dawn

  At-hara Desert

  'D'ya think they were taken?'

  'Fer the last time, Ames, I dun'no. Look, sun-up's not long off, we'll look fer the cursed horses then,' the other man snapped as he paced restlessly.

  'Whadda 'bout the others? Devlyn was yelling like he'd lost an arm or sumthun'.'

  'I reck'n he lost mor'n that. He ain't yellin' now, an' I don' think he's on a horse. So stop chatterin' — an' keep that damn crossbow up! Whoever's out there's after the mercenary.'

  Ames shifted on the log he was using for a seat, pulling his shoulders back and lifting the crossbow so it was aimed at the man tied to the tree and not the trunk beneath him. They had been like this since sunset yesterday. One moment they were playing dice, the next Devlyn was howling and half the men were missing. Maddock wouldn't let him go help, instead, he'd ordered him to guard the prisoner while he checked the horses. Ames hadn't understood that. A man was obviously in trouble and their leader wouldn't go help him. He understood now, the horses were gone, let loose, and Maddock figured the others, if not taken prisoner, were beyond help. They took shifts, an hour at a time — one trained the sight of the crossbow on the prisoner, while the other slept. Although he didn't think Maddock had slept, he paced when it wasn't his turn, holding his own crossbow at the ready. Ames had managed to doze a little, but he was still tired, and he had one black-hearted hangover descending on him every minute he sobered up.

  Maddock didn't want to discuss who it was or why they wanted the mercenary. Ames glanced at the higher officer, his constant pacing almost made Ames more nervous than the unknown attacker. Outside of the light of the fire, Ames imagined an assassin, dressed in black to merge with the shadows, stalking them. Except, it'd been a long time since they heard Devlyn yelling…

  'I think he must've gone or he'd've attacked by now,' Ames ventured more hopefully than he felt, because although he wanted to believe it, he could not help feeling like they were being watched. The lower-ranked soldier could almost see the cold, black eyes of their stalker flashing as they caught the light of the fire.

  'Mebbe, but d'ya really wanna risk dyin' in yer sleep?' Maddock looked back at the other man — he was slumped over, barely holding the crossbow in position. 'Look, yer shift'll be over inna half hour, after that, I'll watch 'til dawn. Ya c'n get a coupla 'ours' sleep.'

  'An' what then? The horses won't 'xactly just reappear at sun up.'

  'We shoot 'im,' Maddock said nodding towards the prisoner, 'then get the horses. Think about it, Ames, we're in the desert, them horses ain't gonna wander too far from the spring fer long. They'll head back soon as it starts gettin' warm.'

  'What makes ya' think he won't attack when it's light? Mebbe he's jus' waitin' fer dawn.'

&nbs
p; Maddock stopped pacing at the end of the clearing and stared into the night. 'Could be yer right, Ames, but we can't leave on foot, it's too far. Our best chance is t' find the horses, so we might as well hold a guarded position 'til it's light enough t' track 'em down.'

  The higher officer took Ames' silence as acceptance of his argument and smiled with satisfaction. He turned back to the other man, suddenly feeling generous. 'Since I'm not sleepin', why don' I take over now, you get sum rest.'

  Just as he turned, Maddock felt something whip past his ear. He barely registered it before the object hit Ames in the neck, bowling him off the log, the crossbow flying from his hands.

  Whirling, Maddock brought his crossbow up.

  An old man was standing just outside the clearing, his grey hair falling in soft curls about his face, his grey goatee trimmed neatly, and tear-smeared, green eyes flashing in the firelight. Maddock wasn't sure when the arrow pierced his chest, but there it was, sure enough. How could such a harmless looking wood ranger have killed six men? Maddock wondered, as his crossbow slid from his senseless fingers.

  Day 2 – Morning

  Sal-Cirus

  What Keldon and Malithorn had done to this city was utterly devastating. But then, he remembered... Akileena could clearly recall what the city had looked like before the invasion. Tall, elegant towers placed in curving patterns amongst the trees, the temple set in a natural clearing, bridges arcing overhead, homes and buildings melding in with the forest. If he closed his eyes, he could still see it.

  'State your— oh, it's you!' the discontented voice of the Captain of the Gate tramped through Akileena's vision and the mage turned to glare at him.

  'Vega mage,' the Captain added, as if these meagre words might make up for the abrupt, contemptuous tone. Vega was an elvan term adopted by Abbarane's people for when they had to address Abbarane elvan mages. All elvan were slaves according to Abbarane law, so even though elvan mages outranked the soldiers, they could not be called lord. But early on Keldon had deemed it wise to apply a more diplomatic term for his elvan mages than that of 'slave'. It was Colnba who had suggested 'vega' as it was a neutral term of respect. Akileena resented it about as much as he hated Colnba, yet he had to concede, he preferred vega to slave, even if the soldier before him uttered it with barely concealed disgust.

  Akileena used his will to make the man straighten up and salute him. The soldier gave him a shocked looked, knowing the movements were not made of his own accord. Akileena had purposely not disguised his use of 'will' upon the man.

  'Have you a need to see my pass?' Akileena queried pointedly.

  The soldier glowered at him, and then shook his head, waving them into Sal-Cirus.

  Akileena kept his hood up, though he would have enjoyed feeling the sun's happy rays upon his face, but he did not care to feel the hatred of his wardens. The path to the stables led by a side entrance into the palace grounds where Thane Curtin stayed. Akileena's room was in a building outside the palace walls, however a series of underground corridors led to it.

  Of the elvan, the Abbarane government identified six groups. There were those who aligned themselves with Nisari and Colnba and served Malithorn Abbarane through loyalty to the pair. There were also those who submitted to Abbarane against their will, high-security prisoners, general prisoners, slaves and rebels. In each city or thanedom there was at least one elvan mage that served Nisari and Colnba assigned permanently it, one elvan mage who served unwillingly and up to a dozen high-security prisoners. In Sal-Cirus, Linura served as a result of her loyalty to Nisari and Colnba. Akileena was unwilling but obedient. The two elvan mages each had a corner room on the upper floors of a building just outside the palace grounds. Their rooms were on the same floor as the two high-security prisoners who occupied the other two corner rooms. A human mage was located in the rooms between and eight guards were on duty at all times in the foyer onto which all the doors opened. The rooms were civil enough but no matter how spartan or luxurious the enclosure, it was still a cell to Akileena.

  As Akileena's escort started towards the stables Akileena gave Herjan a soothing pat and dismounted. The horse would walk herself into the stable keeper's hands.

  'I will refresh in my quarters,' Akileena murmured to no one in particular. 'I am sure Thane Curtin will send for me when he wishes my service.'

  Without looking back, he strode up a small staircase and used his will to unlock the gate. The sentries on the other side gave him a startled look that quickly transformed into animosity. He ignored them, taking the stairs inside the gate and then crossing a courtyard to access the underground route to his building. He was just about to step through the door that led to his building's ground-floor foyer when a familiar voice brought him to a sharp halt.

  'Why, in the name of the great sages, does Thane Curtin persist in forcing me to watch him eat? I would much rather have my meal alone in my room.' Thane Kennelm's harsh, cold tone filled Akileena with dread.

  'My lord, he seemed particularly keen on having you join him for the morning meal,' an unfamiliar voice replied.

  The mage could feel Nathan's bitter, angry spirit as it came closer to his own. Akileena slid back down the corridor until he was hidden by the curve of the wall. He was undecided about whether or not to use his will to make sure Nathan decided not to use the underground route to the palace. But it was likely Liacoren would check on him just at the moment he did. Better not take the risk, Akileena decided. Liacoren would let him get away with putting a soldier in his place, though she was human she did not hold much respect for the military. But meddling with a Thane's mind would result in punishment — and not to him directly, but to his daughter.

  When the Thane continued through the foyer of his own will, Akileena exhaled quietly in relief. Nathan had been trying to get Akileena in his control for turns. Fortunately, Malithorn knew better than to hand Akileena to any thane with an ounce of ambition or initiative. Curtin was loyal and reliable: safe. Nathan? Nathan was so far from safe that he did not know the meaning of the word. Oh, the Thane was loyal to Malithorn, there was no doubt there, but unlike Malithorn, Nathan wanted to completely extinguish the elvan and given enough power, it was quite possible Nathan's loyalty might give way to a greater ambition. Compassion was another word the Thane would find foreign.

  Thus far, Akileena had managed to avoid meeting Nathan. This was mostly because any time Nathan was due in Sal-Cirus, Colnba suddenly found a task for Akileena that required him to leave the city. The Debanikay mage was certain that it was not mere coincidence.

  When he felt it was safe, Akileena continued on to his rooms, crossing the foyer briskly and heading up the stairs. What was Nathan doing here? Akileena came to a stop, his hand tightening on the balustrade. He felt intensely ill as the realisation dawned on him. The missing harem... The escaped elvan thief... The orders recalling him back to Sal-Cirus to assist in finding both… Thane Kennelm was here to lead the investigation — the next few sennats were, indeed, going to be abysmal.

  Day 2 – Morning

  Denas

  Liacoren looked the elvan female over. Malithorn needed a wife, but cared not for any kind of courtship, thus, it was appropriate in Liacoren's mind for her to make the selection. In a way, Liacoren found that it was in line with her beliefs. Although there were many things she detested about the elvan, she found she agreed completely with their views on courtship. In elvan culture, the mothers were in full control of who their children courted. They selected the matches, approved or denied any match proposed, and had final say over whether a prolonged relationship ensued. With Malithorn completely disinterested in the selection of his wife, Liacoren found herself in complete control over who that wife was. She wanted an elvan wife for Malithorn, not because she thought an elvan would be a better match or a better wife. It was all about blood. The Abbarane bloodline had no talent. Yes, a talented human would resolve this limitation, but an elvan wife would provide longevity in addition to talent. The problem was
that Malithorn loathed the elvan. But Liacoren had a plan. A plan that just might involve the elvan female before her.

  She had lilac eyes with gold flecks and gold hair with several under-shades of purple. She wore slave robes of a dull, wine-red colour. She was short for her race, which was good, she should not be taller than Malithorn. And she was strongly talented, which was even better.

  'Who trained you?'

  'House of Vel-galyn.'

  Hmmm. Not as well-known as Debanikay and Dai-tur, but a respectable mage house.

  'They honour dragons, do they not?'

  'Yes, my lady. Specifically, they honour lumin-eryn-kaan.'

  It was a kind of lunar or moon dragon, if Liacoren remembered the stories her seda had told her. Every night, throughout her childhood, her seda would read her a story. Back then she had no notion those stories would one day supply knowledge on elvan myths and legends or the role they had in elvan culture. Liacoren guessed that was why her seda had read them to her, Milu-corena, the elvan female who had adopted her, believed education should be engaging and interesting, for those were the best circumstances under which to absorb knowledge.

  'You have no elvan accent, but you look too old to have been born a slave.'

  'My master did not like my accent. I learned to speak like her.'

  Liacoren nodded absently, then asked, 'I was told you are adept at illusion, can you change how you are perceived?'

  'I can, my lady.' And then she did, making herself appear male.

  'Human.'

  'Yes, my lady.' A moment later, she became a human male.

  Liacoren made a soft sound of satisfaction. Lenses could change the colour of her eyes and her hair could be dyed, that way she would not have to expend as much energy on the illusion.

  'You have no rahn, yes?'

  'I have no family either.'

  'Lost in the war?'

  'Killed in the war.'