Rise of the Red Harbinger (49 page)

Despite the prophecy, she would not tempt fate. It would be stupid to fight these men. The prophecy said she would return home. She didn’t want to return home missing an arm or disfigured. She would fight back when it made the most sense.

Drahkunov resurfaced with a member of his crew. They each carried a plate, though Drahkunov also had a corked bottle in his hand. He set his plate and the bottle down on a barrel and instructed the sinewy crewman to set the other plate on another barrel. Together they pushed the barrel in front of Adria. “You may go now, Faadi. Unless you prefer to stay and feed her for me.”

Faadi didn’t seem to appreciate the sentiment. He scowled. “You feed her the same meal that you eat? While your crew eats barely seasoned fish soup every day?” Faadi threw the plate at the mast, smashing it into dozens of shards while chunks of food landed on Adria’s head and shoulders. “She is a Darian-loving whore! My people would spit on me if they knew I was even on the same ship and let her live!” He then grabbed the dinner knife and cocked his arm to stab her. From behind, Drahkunov seized Faadi’s hand and plunged the knife into Faadi’s chest. A few other crew members on the deck turned to see the commotion, but went right back to their responsibilities and conversations.

Faadi convulsed for a moment, and Drahkunov took advantage of the opening by stabbing him a few more times in the chest and stomach. He then pulled Faadi to the the ship’s rail and pushed him over the side. A splash shortly ensued.

Adria looked at him incredulously as Drahkunov walked back to her. She felt relieved and terrified all at once. “What was that?”

Drahkunov smiled. “What do you mean?”

“You are too intelligent for that to be an accident! The man obviously knew I was up here and more obviously hates me! Why would you bring him up here? Did…how could you not know he would try something like that?”

“I knew. You are correct. I knew he hated you. Knew he would want to kill you.”

“So what, do you think that is supposed to impress me? Do you think I respect you because you killed him?”

“Perhaps you should not focus on honoring yourself so much.” Drahkunov almost sounded bored to speak to her any longer.

“Excuse me?” Her cheeks warmed, filled with anger and embarrassment.

Drahkunov crouched beside her and spoke softly. “Though you may think it does, Faadi’s death has nothing to do with you. I simply needed a reason to kill him. You see, Faadi is…was a very angry and selfish man. He came because he hates Ashurians, especially ones like you who descend from Darian. However, he barely gets along with the rest of the crew, complains about everything, and throws the others out of sync when he is required to row. Unfortunately, those are not justifiable excuses for killing him. Trying to kill one of Jahmash’s prized prisoners, on the other hand, is definitely a good excuse.”

Adria continued to sulk. “You could have been more discreet. And then told Jahmash that he died during your attack on the House.”

“Do you know how many eyes Jahmash has? Or where they are at any given time? Even the birds perched atop our sails could be watching from his eyes. That is why we whisper now.”

Adria smirked. “So I could easily shout out the truth of what just happened, and he would be angry with you.”

Drahkunov nodded and smiled back. “You could very well do that. And then you would watch your friend Gunnar lose his other arm, right in front of you.” He continued to smile. “Do not test me, Adria. While I do like you, my obligation is to Jahmash, not you. I would not hesitate to sacrifice you if it meant my well-being.”

“Fine. You win. At least you have a code. A sense of rules. Your traveler friend is much crazier than you are.”

He glanced at her sideways. “My traveler friend?”

“You know, Maqdhuum. The one who disappears and reappears. I assumed he was a general, just like you. Jahmash treats him like one, anyway.”

Drahkunov was definitely interested. He looked directly at her and maintained a soft voice. “I do know Maqdhuum and he is a general, but I do not know why you call him a traveler or about disappearing and reappearing. What exactly are you talking about?”

“You’re telling me that you didn’t know Maqdhuum could vanish into thin air and reappear somewhere else?” Maqdhuum had threatened her and Gunnar not to tell anyone about it, but if he was keeping secrets from his own people, Adria could use it to create discord.

“You lie. He bears no Descendant’s Mark. I have been all over the world. Only Descendants have such an ability to do these things. Even beyond Ashur.”

“I have lived for nearly twenty years and have never seen any nation beyond Ashur, but you just told me that there is, in fact, such a thing. Perhaps you should also entertain other possibilities. I have seen him do this with my own eyes. How do you think he captured me and Gunnar? One moment we were standing around, talking to other Descendants. In seconds, he appeared, cut off Gunnar’s arm, and before I could process a thought, we were at the edge of a forest, boarding a galley just like this.”

Drahkunov’s brow furrowed, and then he looked down at the wooden deck. He spoke even more softly than before. “Could it…no there is no way…”

“What is it?”

He seemed surprised that she’d heard. “There have been stories in certain parts of the world…never mind. I forget myself.”

Adria pushed on. “But what about being worthy of conversation. I thought that was why you enjoyed my company. Perhaps I could help with whatever it is that you do not understand.”

Drahkunov seemed to have recovered from whatever troubled him. “A nice attempt. I’ll give you that. But still a fairly novice tactic. I am not so easily influenced.” He smiled once more.

In the distance, a red flame appeared from the crow’s nest of another ship. A shout came from the crow’s nest of their own ship and Drahkunov looked up. He then raised his arm straight up and made a fist. Adria tried to contort her neck to see what was happening up there, but could not. Drahkunov trotted back below deck. After several moments, the red flame on the other ship disappeared.

It was only after Drahkunov left that Adria realized neither of them had actually eaten. Food still littered her hair and Drahkunov’s plate still sat atop the barrel. She tried for several minutes to reach it, but the exertion wore her out quickly. As her eyes got heavy, she thought she could feel the galley moving faster than before. However, she was too tired to question what was happening, and nodded off to sleep.

***

The shouts of many men startled Adria from her sleep. She didn’t think she’d slept for very long, but vaguely remembered dreaming about Drahkunov. Her face flushed, hoping that no one around her could read her thoughts.
What if Jahmash can force his way into my head while I’m sleeping?
She panicked at the thought.

Adria lifted her head to see the galley alongside another one, which was slightly larger. Planks had been extended and Maqdhuum walked across to their ship, followed by a girl with a Descendant’s Mark and Gunnar, who looked incredibly skinny, prodded by two crewmen. Drahkunov greeted them as they stepped onto the deck and gestured toward Adria. His face looked serious, but she could not read it beyond that.

Maqdhuum walked to her, but did not crouch or kneel, as Drahkunov had done every time he’d spoken to her. “Look at me girl.” She knew he would not have the same patience as Drahkunov. “Your friend here with the good eyes refuses to give us directions. All we know is that we are a day or two away from Ashur, but he will not tell us whether to navigate toward the east or west of Ashur to get to the House.”

Gunnar spoke from behind Maqdhuum. “I do not refuse! I need energy to see! Zey are going to kill me, Mouse! I am starving. All I am asking for is some food! Ze manifestation requires energy, anz I have none. Look at me!”

Adria felt ashamed that he was going through this only so they would not kill her. The Gunnar she remembered was a stocky, muscular man. This skinny decrepit thing standing behind Maqdhuum was a pitiable thing–something she never would have imagined of Gunnar. “He is right. He needs food. We cannot use our manifestations without energy. Without nourishment. You are going to kill him by trying to force him. Are you looking at him? Do you see his condition?” She was shouting now. “There is nothing you can do, aside from feeding him, that would enable him to use his manifestation for you. Even if Jahmash himself were in Gunnar’s head, it would not work!”

Maqdhuum kicked her hard in the stomach. “Do not make assumptions about Jahmash. You know nothing of him. So you are saying he is useless to us if we do not feed him?” Adria was still gasping from the kick to be able to respond. “We have enough food for our crew, and that is it. If we have to keep worrying about him to eat enough, our whole ship will be starving!”

Adria wanted to tell Maqdhuum to disappear to somewhere else and bring back food for his ship, but she was still catching her wind. Maqdhuum continued over her heaves. “The arrangement was that you would die if he refused to help. Maybe watching you suffer and slowly die will inspire him to find the energy without food.”

She was finally able to speak up. “If you kill me, then you have nothing. He will still refuse and you would have to kill him as well. Then you will not have either of us.” Adria realized she might have sounded too smug in saying that.

Maqdhuum did not looked pleased at what Adria thought was a victory. She missed the days when she was sure that she’d won arguments. Maqdhuum turned and pulled Gunnar next to him. They stood only a few feet from Adria. She could see the pain and exhaustion in her friend’s face. She could only imagine how sick of his own manifestation he’d become, to be so drained. Maqdhuum then nodded his head for the female Descendant to come to them. The girl was beautiful and obviously taken care of on the ship. She wore a white dress and her blonde hair was braided neatly. Adria didn’t understand.
Is she a captive? Why does she look so healthy? Why are there no crewmen guarding her?

“Once we board our ship again, do you agree to use your sight to help us?” He asked Gunnar impatiently.

“I vill if you feed me. Zat is ze only vay.” Even the defiance was fading from Gunnar’s voice.

Maqdhuum mumbled something about a waste of time. He looked at the girl and extended his arm, palm up. “He is all yours, Farrah. Adria, you have not met Farrah, have you? She is a Descendant, just like you. However, unlike you, she sees the truth of this world.”

“And what truth is that?”

“That the true power lies with Jahmash.” He folded his arms behind his back and smiled. As he did, the girl, Farrah, took Gunnar in her arms and kissed him deeply on the mouth for several moments. Adria was dumbfounded as to what was happening before her, until Farrah released Gunnar and he fell to the floor in a thud. His unmoving face was turned to Adria, and it became immediately clear that there was no life in his eyes. Adria scuttled back, forgetting that she was secured to the mast.

“No! What did you do? Why! Why would you kill one of your own! How could you! All he needed was food!” Tears streamed down her face. She pulled so hard against her shackles that her hands scraped against the mast. “You filthy bink! You should know! All he needed was to eat! How dare you bear the Mark and do this!” She continued shouting at Farrah until Maqdhuum kicked her in the stomach again.

Farrah finally spoke. “Do you know why I would do this? Because not too long ago, one of our own did the same to us. We stood in the middle of Rayan and watched as your bloody prince had his men kill our own publicly. The same prince who bears the Mark. He had my sister beheaded. She had barely reached eight years! Eight! Is that what Descendants do? I will help Jahmash kill every last one of you.”

It was only once Farrah spoke that Adria realized she had a Markosi accent. Her skin tone, however, was too dark to be pure Markosi. Like Adria, her parents must have been from different nations. Regardless, Adria felt a sudden fear grip her.
For the love of Orijin, how many others are going to respond to Garrison’s crimes the same way? That scoundrel will get us all killed by our own people!
Farrah stepped toward her and slapped her in the face sharply. “Was that from you or from Jahmash?” Farrah slapped her again.

“The first one was me. That one was from Jahmash. Or would you like a kiss as well?” She puffed her lips into a smile and glanced from Gunnar’s body to Adria. “Speaking of Jahmash, he sends a message. If you do not direct us properly once Ashur is in sight, he will ensure that Badalao, Desmond, Horatio, Lincan, and Savaiyon are spared when the House is destroyed. They will all be brutally murdered in different ways for you to enjoy. He says that we can even behead one of them, as payback for my sister.”

Adria surprised herself that she was able to control her anger. “Farrah, we are not like Prince Garrison. We hate him as well. He does not represent us. You and I feel exactly the same way about him.”

“Then why is he at the House of Darian?” Adria had no idea what she was talking about. “Ohhh, you were not aware? Yes, he rode to the House of Darian and joined its ranks. He is just like you. And so you will all be killed.” Farrah did not wait for a response. She turned and stepped onto the plank to return to her own ship. As they walked back, Drahkunov instructed two of his own men to toss Gunnar’s body overboard. Adria felt a small protest inside, but the truth was that there would be no honorable ceremony for Gunnar. They would not even reach land for several days. Instead, she closed her eyes and cried into her knees.