Rise Of Empire (87 page)

“What’s going on? What’s happening?” Hadrian asked.

“Your friend is not human,” the oberdaza declared. Zulron stepped up to face Royce. “Why are you here?”

“We’re part of the crew of the
Emerald Storm
, on our way to deliver a message to the Palace of the Four Winds,” Hadrian answered for him.

Zulron did not take his eyes off Royce. “For three thousand years the ancient legends have told of the Day of Reckoning, when the shadow from the north will descend to wash over our lands.”

Derning, Grady, Poe, and Bulard entered. “What’s going on?” Derning asked. “We heard a woman scream and saw the big guy carrying her away.”

“There was an accident,” Hadrian explained.

Both Derning and Grady immediately looked at Royce.

“We don’t know what happened to her,” Hadrian continued. “She was doing a kind of spiritual demonstration—reading Royce’s fortune or something—and she collapsed.”

“She collapsed?” Derning said.

“She was breathing tulan leaf smoke. Maybe it was a bad batch.”

Zulron ignored their conversation and continued to glare at Royce. “The Ghazel legend, preserved by oral memory from the time of the first Ghazel-Da-Ra, tells of death and destruction, revenge unleashed, the Old Ones coming again. I have seen the signs myself. I watch the stars and know. To the north, there have been rumblings. Estramnadon is active, and Avempartha has been opened. Now here is an elf in my village, where one has never walked before.”

“An elf?” Derning asked, puzzled.

“That is what killed Fan Irlanu,” Zulron told them. “Or at the very least has driven her insane.”

“What?” Hadrian exclaimed.

“It’s not possible to use the sight on an elf. The lack of a soul offers up only infinity. For her it was like walking off a bottomless cliff. If she lives, she will never be the same.”

“You’re the village healer. Shouldn’t you be trying to help her?”

“He wants her dead.” Royce finally spoke. Then, looking at Zulron, he added, “You knew.”

“What did he know?” Bulard asked, tense but fascinated. Grady and Derning also leaned forward.

“You knew I was elven, didn’t you? But you told her—no, coerced her—to do a reading,” Royce said.

Outside, there were sounds of commotion, running feet and raised voices. Hadrian heard Wesley saying something over the heated shouts of Tenkins.

“Why did you want her dead?”

“I did nothing. You are the one that killed her. And killing a member of the village, especially a seer, is an unpardonable crime. The punishment is death.” Zulron gave a smile before stepping outside.

The rest of them followed to find a gathering crowd.

“There he is!” Thranic shouted the moment Royce stepped out of the tree. He pointed and said, “There’s your
elf!
I warned you about him.”

“He has slain our seer, Fan Irlanu!” Zulron announced, and repeated it in Tenkin.

Burandu, Wesley, and Wyatt pushed their way through the mob.

“Is this true?” Wesley asked quickly, his voice nervous.

“Which?” Royce asked.

“Are you an elf, and did you just kill Fan Irlanu?”

“Yes, and I’m not sure.”

The crowd grew and Hadrian could pick out words such as
justice, revenge
, and
kill
among the many Tenkin shouts.

“By Mar, man!” Wesley said fiercely but quietly to Royce. “What is it with you? I should let you hang just for the amount of trouble you’ve caused.” He took a breath. The crowd pressed in. Lightning flashed overhead while thunder boomed. “What do you mean when you say you’re not sure?” Wesley asked. He was speaking quickly, wiping the rain from his face.

“The murderer must pay for his crime, Burandu,”
Zulron declared in Tenkin.
“His soullessness has killed our beloved Fan Irlanu. The law demands justice!”

“Where is Joqdan?”
Burandu asked.

“Paying his last respects to his dead would-be wife. If he was here, he would agree.”

“He lies! Zulron is to blame.”
Hadrian spoke in Tenkin, which drew surprised looks from everyone.

“What are they saying?” Wesley asked Hadrian.

“The oberdaza is pushing for our deaths and Burandu is buying it.”

“Bring them all!”
Burandu shouted.

The warriors of the village descended. Hadrian considered for a moment whether he should draw his swords, but decided against it. He shot a look at Royce to indicate he should not resist.

They were driven to the village center, where Dilladrum was shouting, “Let go of me! What are you doing?” When he saw Wesley, he asked, “What did you do? I told you not to offend them!”

“We didn’t offend them,” Hadrian explained. “We killed their beloved seer.”

“What!” Dilladrum looked as if he was about to faint.

“Actually, it is a misunderstanding, but I am not sure we will get the chance to explain,” Wesley put in.

“At least Thranic will die with us,” Royce said loud enough for the sentinel to hear.

“A martyr’s death is a fair price to rid the world of you and your kind.”

Lightning flashed again, revealing the pallid faces of the crew in its stark light.

Grady was shoved to the ground, and he moved his hand toward his sword.

“Grady, don’t!” Hadrian said.

“That is right,” Wesley shouted. “No one draw weapons. They will slaughter us.”

“They will anyway,” Derning replied.

Poe and Hadrian pulled Grady back to his feet. All around them the ring of warriors formed a wall, behind which churned a crowd of shouting faces and raised fists. The rain-drenched mob pushed and cried, its words lost in a roar of hatred. Lightning flashed once more, and a single voice rang out,
“You knew!”

Instantly the crowd fell silent and parted. Only the sound of rain disturbed the stillness as Fan Irlanu entered the circle. Joqdan, at her side, carried a deadly-looking spear, his eyes grim and focused on Zulron.

“Burandu, it is not the stranger’s fault. It was Zulron who asked that I do the reading. He knew this one had elven blood. But I am still alive!”

“But
—
no … How could you …
” Zulron stammered.

“He is not an Old One,”
Fan Irlanu said.
“He is a
kaz!
There is humanity in him
—
footholds, Zulron, footholds!”

“What’s going on?” Wesley asked Hadrian. “Isn’t she the one Royce killed? What’s she saying?”

“She seems a mite upset,” Grady said.

“But not at Royce,” Poe remarked.

“Who, then?” Grady asked.

“Zulron has tried to kill me. I have known for some time his ambitions were great. I saw the treachery in his heart, but I never expected he would go so far.”

“Joqdan, what say you? Is what Fan Irlanu says true?”
Burandu addressed his warlord.

Joqdan thrust his spear into the chest of Zulron.

The long blade passed fully through the oberdaza’s body. Those nearby jostled backward, everyone moving away. Joqdan advanced the length of his spear’s shaft and gripped Zulron by the throat. Holding him with strong arms, he spat in the witch doctor’s face. The light faded from the oberdaza’s eyes, and Joqdan withdrew his spear as Zulron fell dead.

“I think that answers your question,” Poe remarked.

Burandu looked down at the body, then up at Joqdan, and nodded.
“Joqdan is never wrong. I am pleased you are safe, Fan Irlanu,”
he said to her. Then the Elder addressed Wesley and the others. “Forgive the dishonor of evil Zulron. Judge us not by his actions. You too have such men in your world, eh?”

Wesley glanced at Thranic and Royce.

Burandu shouted to his warriors and they dispersed the crowd. Many paused to kiss Fan Irlanu, who stood weakly, leaning against Joqdan. She offered a strained smile, but Hadrian could see the paleness of her face and the effort in her breathing.

The Elder spoke briefly with Joqdan and Fan Irlanu, and then Joqdan lifted the seer once more and carried her to one of the smaller dwellings. Zulron’s body was dragged away and with him went most of the Tenkin.

“That’s it?” Grady asked.

“Wait,” Dilladrum said as the leopard-skinned man approached. They spoke for a moment, and then Dilladrum
returned. “The village of Oudorro asks our forgiveness for the misunderstanding and begs the honor to continue as our host.”

They looked at one another skeptically.

“They are sincere.”

Wesley sighed and nodded. “Thank them for their kindness, but we will be leaving in the morning.”

“Kindness?” Derning muttered. “They nearly skinned us alive. We should get out now while we can.”

“I see no advantage in venturing into these jungles at night,” Wesley affirmed. “We will leave at first light.”

“And what about Melborn?” Thranic said.

“You, Dr. Levy, and Seamen Blackwater and Melborn will come with me. The rest I order to quarters to get as much sleep as possible.”

A young Tenkin trotted up to them and spoke to Dilla-drum, his eyes watching Royce.

“What is it?” Wesley asked.

“Fan Irlanu has requested Royce and Hadrian.”

Wesley nodded at them, but added, “Try not to start a war this time. You are to report to me directly after—by your honor, gentlemen.”

Before Thranic could object, they both nodded and offered an “Aye, aye, sir.”

Fan Irlanu lay on a bed beneath a thin white sheet as a young girl patted her forehead with a damp cloth, rinsed repeatedly in a shallow basin. Joqdan remained at her side. His great spear, still covered in Zulron’s blood, stood by the door.

“Is she really all right?” Hadrian asked.

“I be fine,” Fan Irlanu replied. “It was terrible shock. Will take time.”

“I’m sorry,” Royce offered.

“I know,” she told him. Her face was sympathetic to the point of sadness. “I
know
you are.”

“You saw something?”

“Were I to touch Joqdan’s hand with the tulan smoke in me, I could tell what he ate for his midday meal yesterday and what he eat tomorrow. If I touched Galenti’s hand, I could name the woman he will marry and who will outlive the other. I could also tell the precise events that will surround his death. So clear is my sight that I can see a life in detail, but not you. You are mystery, a cloud. Looking into you is seeing a mountain range in thick fog—I can only see the high points with no means of connecting them. You are
kaz
in the Ghazel tongue—in your language a
mir
, yes?—mix of human and elven blood. This gives you long life.” She paused to gather some strength, and Joqdan’s brow furrowed further.

“Imagine looking down road, you see most things well, the trees, the rocks, the leaves. But with you, it is as if standing high in air, staring out at horizon—very few details. My sight can only span so far, and that not include life span of a
kaz.
There is too much.”

“But you saw something.”

“I saw many things. Too many,” she told him. Her eyes were soft and comforting.

“Tell me,” Royce said. “Please, I know a woman. She’s very much like you, but something troubles her. She won’t speak of it, and I think she has seen things like you have—things that trouble her.”

“She is Tenkin?”

“I’m not sure, but she bears the same mark as you.”

Fan Irlanu nodded. “I sent for you because of what I saw. I will tell you what I know and then I rest. I sleep for long time, and Joqdan will not let any disturb me. So I speak now. Am certain
I will not see you again. I saw much but understood little—too much distance, too much time. Most are vague feelings that are hard to put in words, but what I sensed was powerful.”

Royce nodded.

She paused a moment, thinking, then said, “Darkness surrounds you, death is everywhere, it stalks you, hunts you, and you feed upon it—blood begets blood—the darkness consumes you. In this darkness, I saw two lights beside you. One will blow out. The other flickers, but it must not go out. You must protect the flame against the storm.