by John Booth
There was a slate notice board behind Toren. He picked up a piece of chalk and drew a large circle on it.
“That represents the city walls of Slarn. They are a perfect circle and unassailable.”
Jalia snorted with contempt at the idea of such a wall. That was what they said about the wall around the Alchemists Guild, and she had climbed those on a daily basis to visit Marco.
“Wait until you see them, Lady, before you jump to judgment.”
“The walls are six miles from one side to the other,” Toren continued. He drew a line coming in from the north east to the center of his circle and then drew two lines going out. The lines cut the circle into three equal pieces.
“These lines represent the river Jalon coming into the city and the two rivers, Jalon and Slarn going out. We will come up the Jalon from the west.”
Daniel thought it highly unlikely that a river would split so perfectly in two, but he held his peace and let Toren continue with his explanation.
“Each trium of the city has its own royal family named after the trium they rule, the Dalk’s, Jenver’s and Tallis’. I was born in Tallis. It has been tradition since the fall of the Magician Kings that the King of Slarn comes from the royal families in turn. Once raised to King of Slarn he rules until he dies. The king died three years ago and now there is a war between the royal families as to who should become the next king.”
“I thought you said it went in sequence?” Jalia asked.
“The rule of law is that the new king must be between forty and fifty years old and be of royal blood,” Toren agreed.
“So what went wrong?” Daniel queried.
“It was the Jenver’s turn. The only candidate they offered up was Kalenda Jenver.” Toren stopped as though that explained everything.
“What..?” Jalia started to ask.
“Kalenda is a woman. Women are not allowed to become kings.”
“Pay the man, Jalia,” Daniel said and Jalia reluctantly counted out five and a half gold pieces from a bulging purse on her belt.
Cara leant forward and whispered to Jalia, “I can’t afford to pay you back.”
“You saved us more than your travel costs. I think it balances out,” Jalia whispered back.
“You are probably only charging so much because you can’t transport Hadon’s swords,” Jalia said as she put the money down on the desk.
“How do you know of that?” Toren asked sharply. “Hadon Mallow keeps his own council.”
“We traveled to Boathaven with Hadon,” Daniel explained. “He wanted to use my donkeys and I insisted on knowing what they were carrying. He told me that the Swallow had brought the bulk of his cargo from Telmar.”
Toren relaxed, “Haddon Mallow is here?”
“Down by the dock gates. The guards have confiscated the remainder of his swords.”
“I must go and see him,” Toren said, standing up. “You are wrong in your supposition, young lady. All the swords from the Swallow were loaded on the Steam Dragon when we docked. That loading was supervised by the Lady Sorn herself. I suspect it was her mentioning that fact to the Lord Protector that resulted in the ban.”
Daniel caught Toren by the arm as he hurried past.
“Why would the Lady Sorn tell the Lord Protector anything of her business?”
“She is his niece. She is staying with him at the palace. The Lord Protector’s given name is Gal Sorn. She was named after him by her father. Do you know of her?”
“We have some business to transact; that is all. Is she to travel with us on the Steam Dragon?”
“Leave her swords to my tender care?” Toren asked and laughed at the thought. “It is like she is wedded to them. She insisted I show her the hold they were going in before we loaded them. She didn’t want to risk them getting rusty because it might be damp.”
“Yes, she will be coming with us, in the State Cabins at the top of the ship. She has been traveling between Telmar and Boathaven all her life. I first gave her passage when she was a toddler, traveling with her father and mother.”
Toren shook Daniel’s hand off and walked out of the building at speed, anxious to talk to Hadon Mallow to receive the final payment for the swords.
“You paid up remarkably quietly,” Daniel mentioned. It wasn’t like Jalia to part with so much money so easily.
“It was less than a third of what I won last night.” Jalia turned to Cara who stood behind her.
“Since I paid for you and your brother’s passage to Slarn, perhaps you would look after Hala while we go and see Gally Sorn?”
“Of course,” Cara agreed. She had come to like Hala and it wasn’t asking much. “Do you want us to take the horses and Daniel’s donkeys onboard too?”
“Jalia, give me a gold coin,” Daniel asked. Jalia looked puzzled, but threw one at him, which he caught deftly. Daniel tossed the coin to Cara who looked even more puzzled than Jalia.
“Make sure all of the horses and donkeys are well fed and watered. From what I have seen of the Steam Dragon’s prices, it might cost you that much to do it.”
Cara grinned with delight. She had been brought up on a farm where the rule was that you made sure your animals were looked after before you sat down to eat. She understood Daniel perfectly. Cara thought that it was a massive shame that Daniel was bound so tightly to Jalia. She wanted to take him to her bed every time they got within a few feet of each other. It was making her feel tense.
“We are leaving our horses?” Jalia asked as they left the booking hall and came out into the red evening sunlight. It was a beautiful evening and the sky was bright red in the west.
“I could do with a long walk. My legs have become bowed.”
Jalia put her arm in his and leaned on him as they walked across the dock towards the gates.
“Don’t you think it strange that Lady Sorn’s uncle has blocked passage of the very swords she wants so much?” Jalia asked.
“I have a good idea why.”
“Are you going to tell me?” Jalia asked when it was clear that was all he was planning to say.
“No, you can work it out for… ooof!” Daniel doubled over from a friendly punch in the stomach.
“Come on lazy. I have to say goodbye to Grilt and Tel. It looks as though they are about to leave.”
Jalia ran towards Lock-up Four where the argument between Hadon and Captain Waters was still going strong. Captain Toren had joined in and if it hadn’t been for the fifty guards protecting Captain Waters it would certainly have come to blows.
Daniel rubbed his aching stomach and limped after Jalia. ‘It was worth it’, he thought. He hadn’t managed to truly annoy her in days.
The Lord Protector was a distinguished, muscular man in his fifties with eyes that were almost black, some said they matched his heart, but all agreed that they matched his soul. He was handsome in that way the exercise of power affects some men. The Lord Protector had been exercising power of one form or another most of his life.
He strode through the palace corridors as if in a great hurry, though in fact the message he carried was not particularly urgent. However, the desire to spend some more time in the company of his favorite niece spurred him on.
He slid the elegantly carved doors to the State Room open, ignoring for the ten thousandth time the masterpiece of art the carving was. The Lord Protector had little time for works of art that did not breathe and were not warm to the touch.
The State Room had been built when Boathaven had been at its political zenith. It had been the town where the Magician Kings from Slarn and Telmar met to discuss the future of Jalon, dance into the early hours of the morning, and gossip about who was having an affair with whom.
No expense had been spared on the palace’s construction as it had been paid for by the wealthiest families of both cities. The finished product put many of the buildings in their cities to shame.
The State Room was no exception having been designed by master craftsmen. The far wall of the room
was a panoramic window that looked out towards the River Jalon. The window was filled with a single pane of glass from the city of Ranwin. Despite the millennia it had stood there, it remained clearer than the finest crystal. The uninitiated would take fright on seeing it, believing the wall was missing and that they might fall through it to the ground.
On the left wall, adjacent to the panoramic window, stood a massive stone fireplace. Far bigger than the room needed for anything as mundane as warmth, it was an artistic statement in its own right. Made from black stone with flecks of silver running through it, it dominated the room. It had been polished so perfectly that it shone.
Three crystal and silver chandeliers hung from the ceiling, each capable of holding fifty candles and capable of directing their light downwards through cleverly constructed mirrors. The other walls of the room were hung with exquisite tapestries showing hunting scenes, though the images had faded with age.
All this wonder around him was ignored by the Lord Protector, who only had eyes for the raven haired beauty who stood admiring the view. She had a glass of wine in her hand and held herself with such poise that the Lord Protector had to suppress a desire to throw her to the floor and ravish her that very instant.
Gally Sorn turned at the sound of the sliding of the doors and saw her uncle had entered the room. She smiled with genuine pleasure.
“I thought you would want to know,” her uncle said in a cultured voice. “That the trap you set has been sprung and Hadon Mallow’s remaining swords are in the possession of my guards.”
The smile slipped on Gally’s face and she cursed most foully. The glass she was held shook in her hand and some of the blood red wine in it spilled onto her snow white dress.
Gally cursed again and put the glass on a side table to wipe off the wine before it ruined the silk. The Lord Protector was confused by her reaction.
“I thought you would be happy. All has worked exactly as you planned, has it not?”
Gally finished wiping her dress and surveyed the results of her efforts. The dress was going to be stained forever, whatever she did. She accepted the loss and put it behind her. Gally had more important things to worry about than a dress, however expensive it might be. She smiled at her uncle and resumed the pose of a woman high in society, a role she had played all her life.
“Thank you kindly, Uncle dearest. Your new law has at least forestalled a total disaster. Our family motto is ‘Never trust to a single plan’ and never has following it been so rewarding.”
“This was not what you intended then, being merely a fallback position?”
Gally uttered a depreciating laugh. “You see right through me again. I am so pleased I was named after a man who appreciates cunning and yet sees through it.”
Gal walked to his niece and placed his hand upon hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I had thought it fortuitous when you mentioned that Mallow and his partners were forced to carry a part of your cargo overland.”
“It cost me a small fortune to bribe the master of the Swallow to ensure that particular piece of ‘luck’ happened,” Gally admitted with a forlorn smile. “He loaded extra ballast to make it impossible for the Swallow to carry all of Hadon’s cargo.”
“You have told me that the final price for the swords is based on whether he meets the full order, so nothing has been lost,” Gal pointed out.
Gally leaned forward and kissed her uncle on the mouth. Their tongues touched delicately as both savored the moment of intimacy.
“I had to pay a quarter of the price upfront to Hadon Mallow and his cronies. With a half more to pay if they fail to deliver one less than the three thousand six hundred blades they promised me. However, I hoped to do much better than merely paying three quarters of their value.”
Gally faced her uncle. “Do you remember how I rode from here six months ago?”
“You took four of my best men with you and I was jealous. How could I forget?” Gal raised her hand to his lips and kissed each of her fingers. Gally giggled and pulled her hand away.
“I rode to a village called Priven. My informants suggested that a man called Gef was robbing traders from Telmar. I found this ruffian and I cut a deal with him. He is a small time thief and never normally attacks large groups of traders. I told him that he would attack one for me when I called upon him to do so. I paid him a third of the money he would get when he finished the job and told him to recruit more men.”
“You arranged an ambush.” Gal exclaimed with something akin to joy, “How delightfully wicked of you.”
“More than that, my dear Uncle,” Gally continued. She placed a hand upon his tunic and let it drift slowly down his chest, her fingers spiraling across his clothes as they traveled downwards. “I bribed a donkey trader in Telmar to supply too few donkeys for the journey. I worked hard to make sure his journey failed.”
“I am not sure I see where this is heading, as your plan has succeeded,” Gal pointed out. It was hard keeping his voice steady as Gally hand drifted below his belt, her fingers spiraling as they descended.
“I traveled with them, as you know. In a place called Sweetwater, they were able to buy more donkeys. I should have found a way to stop them, but I was preoccupied with buying a ring.” Gally held up her left hand and showed her uncle the etched silver band on her finger. “I am sure it is from the old times and will have it properly valued when I get back to Slarn.”
Gal took her proffered hand and kissed the fingers on it, as he had done with the right. The squeeze Gally gave him with her other hand made him tremble. His niece was well versed in ways to please a man.
“When we left Sweetwater, I rode ahead and met up with Gef. He had failed to recruit the men I had told him to. However, he had recruited one extra and I felt that four should be enough. I ordered him to attack Mallow and his partners as they crossed a dangerous ford. They would only have to kill a couple of donkeys to ensure that the order could not be met, but I planned that they should kill all the traders there.”
Gal smiled as the full intricacy of his niece’s plan was revealed. “With all the traders dead, you would have to pay nothing more for the swords. I understand now. It must be so galling for you that they have arrived in Boathaven in one piece.”
“You always were an understanding uncle.” Gally smiled. “You saw at once what I needed when I crept into your bed on my fifteenth birthday. I have always favored the mature man.”
“We have time for one last tryst, before you board the Steam Dragon,” her uncle reminded her.
“I have not forgotten,” Gally replied. Both her hands were now on her uncle’s chest and she had started to unbutton his starched white shirt.
There was a discrete cough and they turned to see Keni Rann, officer of the watch, standing at the door looking embarrassed.
“What is it Rann? I left orders I was not to be disturbed.”
“Begging your pardon, sir…, and my lady. We have two people at the gate who wish to see the Lady Sorn.”
“So what?” Gal snarled in annoyance. “Tell them to go away at once. Lady Sorn is far too busy to be bothered with peasants.”
“The people gave their names as Daniel al’Degar and Jalia al’Dare and they fit the descriptions.”
Gally took her hands off her uncle, who straightened up. She looked at Keni in astonishment.
“Heroes from legend have come to see me?” she asked, putting her hand onto her heart. “I didn’t believe they existed.”
Gal Sorn finished buttoning his shirt and turned to Keni in a businesslike manner.
“Bring them here, but make sure you also bring a couple of guards with weapons drawn behind them.” Keni didn’t immediately respond and Gal snapped at him. “Get on with it man, we don’t have all day.”
“Surely they are imposters,” Gally said, picking up her wine glass and taking a long sip.
“When a politician hears of bloody revolutions in other cities, he would be stupid not to investigate,” Gal responded. “T
he Miners Association pushed the people too hard and paid the price for it. It would have happened sooner or later. However, these adventurers appear to have been the catalysts. No doubt, the tales you have heard are exaggerations. However, a wise leader keeps his ears to the ground and is formal and polite to such people if they visit his town, provided they do not threaten him, of course. Do you have any idea why they would want to see you?”
“None at all,” Gally answered truthfully. “It’s a complete mystery.”
Jalia and Daniel spent a pleasant half hour walking up to the Palace. It was difficult to miss such an imposing structure among the other buildings, so they didn’t have to ask for directions. It meant crossing another bridge. They chose the nearest, which was packed with people.
The gates of the Palace had a portcullis, a thing Daniel had heard about, but never seen. The wrought iron gate was down, but they could get close enough to the guard on the other side to ask to see the Lady Sorn.
The guard was a man called Dure and it was a name which suited him down to the ground. If anybody had ever seen him smile, they could not remember it. He was always forecasting disaster of one kind or another and today was no exception. He had seen three ravens flying together, a sure sign that somebody was going to die.
In general, being a palace guard in Boathaven was an easy job. The people were happy with their lot and the Lord Protector let them get on with their lives without hindrance, so they had few complaints. Days could go by with the only people coming to the gate being the food and drink merchants. Dure considered it his personal misfortune to be on duty when two well-armed young people strode to the gate.
“Go away, we’re closed,” he informed them in a surly manner.
“We wish to see the Lady Sorn,” Jalia said sweetly. Dure looked into her eyes and saw iced steel. He stepped back from the portcullis to a range beyond the reach of her sword.
“The Lady Sorn doesn’t see people like you. She’s leaving on the Steam Dragon tonight, so if you go down to the docks, you can watch her go onboard.”
Jalia pursed her lips and put her hands on her hips. That put her hand dangerously near to her throwing knife. Daniel stepped forward, speaking quickly and quietly to Dure.
