Search for Audric (21 page)

The Arin prince pondered the mystery of the Salacian soldiers while he observed the road, and suddenly he knew what duty the soldiers were performing. He returned to the campsite satisfied that there were no unexpected guests on the way. He found everyone settled in around the fire. Several conversations were going on as Gunnar took a seat on one of the stumps, and he subconsciously listened to them all.

"Too bad those soldiers weren't at the bridge when we needed them," Kerzi said. "We wouldn't have had quite so much trouble."

"I doubt they are going as far as the bridge," countered Horst. "Most Salacian patrols stay around Kyland."

"Only one of those soldiers is going to the bridge," interjected Gunnar. "They are setting up a relay."

"A relay?" asked Kerzi. "What do you mean?"

"They will post a man every half-day's ride between Kyland and the border," explained Gunnar. "When the message they are waiting for arrives at the bridge, it will be handed off to the waiting soldier there. He will ride hard for half a day where he will meet another soldier and again hand off the message. That way the message will speed its way to Kyland through the night as well as the day."

"A message from where?" asked Talot.

"I have no idea," answered Gunnar. "I would presume the message is either from Caxon or Oran. The Salacians will not post soldiers outside their borders, so they only need enough men to reach the bridge. We passed another soldier on our way here. I saw him through the trees. We will pass another one tomorrow, but you will have to look hard to find him."

"That seems like a lot of work to speed up a message," stated Monte. "Can't they just wait an extra day or two?"

"They usually do," answered Gunnar. "Whatever the message is, King Hector must consider it very important. The relay is seldom used unless time is critical."

"Could the war you spoke of be starting already?" asked Talot. "Could that be why the relay is required?"

"I don't think so," Gunnar shook his head. "It will take more than a few months for Borunda to raise its army. Time is also required to train the new recruits. It is too soon for the war to be at hand."

The conversation continued and soon split up again into several smaller conversations. When Gunnar rose to stretch his legs and walk alongside the brook, he found Horst beside him.

"I have been thinking about that relay," Horst said softly. "As long as we are going to be in Kyland anyway, shouldn't one of us look up Prince Derri?"

"It would be interesting to find out what is going on in the world," replied Gunnar, "but it is too dangerous."

"It is not dangerous for me," countered the Odessian. "No one is searching for Prince Umal."

Gunnar stopped walking and stared into the brook. His hand subconsciously rubbed his full beard, and he slowly nodded his agreement.

"I would like very much to hear the news of my family," Gunnar said. "It might also be helpful to possess such knowledge before I arrive in Anatar. That is a moment that I have both looked forward to and dreaded at the same time. I will be able to view my family from afar, but I will be unable to speak to them. I do not know if I am strong enough to face that."

"You will survive it," assured the Odessian. "You know that it is something that must be done for the good of all. You have never shied away from a dangerous assignment, and I do not expect this time to be any different."

"How will you make contact?" asked Gunnar. "It would not be wise to allow anyone to equate Horst with Prince Umal."

"I don't know yet," admitted the horseman, "but I will think of something. I feel as if I am locked in a yurt outside Natura. I usually keep up on what is happening in the Land of the Nine Kingdoms, but since we have been on this journey, we have lost touch with all of that. It is driving me crazy."

"Me, too," admitted the Arin prince. "All I ask is that you remain anonymous. I cannot afford to be discovered, and I would miss having you with me if your identity was discovered."

"Surely you don't include Derri in that?" questioned Horst. "I must reveal who I am to him, or we will learn nothing at all."

Gunnar began having second thoughts about the plan. He had no fear of the Salacian prince betraying them, but he knew Derri well enough to know that his friend would demand to meet in person if he discovered Antion was with Umal, and that was likely to happen. Derri was Antion's closest friend, and he knew how Antion thought. He would already know that the Arin prince had purposely disappeared, and the sight of Horst in disguise would give the game away.

"He will want to meet with me," Gunnar shook his head. "It is too dangerous."

"I will be the one going," countered Horst, "not you. Why would he ask to speak to you?"

"Derri is no fool," Gunnar declared. "He will know that you are with me. We can't afford to speak to him. Not yet."

It was the Odessian's turn to go silent as he stared into the growing darkness. He was hungry for news, and he knew that Gunnar was as well, but he also knew how close Antion and Derri were. The Arin prince was only speaking the truth about the results of such an encounter. Still, it made no sense to the Odessian prince.

"I do not understand," sighed Horst. "You, Derri, and I are blood brothers. We swore an oath to protect each other. That is why I am here with you. I could not think of you being in mortal danger and turn my back on the problem. Derri will feel the same. It seems that you are going to great ends to exclude Derri from this problem that you are having, and that is not right. Derri should be coming along with us."

"No," Gunnar shook his head vigorously. "Must all three of us die together for a boyhood vow?"

"A boyhood vow?" balked Horst. "You know better than to categorize it as such."

"I do," sighed Gunnar. "I apologize. Still, I cannot bring myself to allow Derri to get involved. I love him like a brother, and I could not handle his death if it should come at my expense."

"I understand that feeling," Horst smiled thinly in sympathy, "but Derri is the ultimate woodsman. He is as skilled in battle as you are, and his sense of direction is impeccable. He could track a horsefly through a herd of Odessian beauties without missing a turn. Besides, we could use him when we meet the next group of Borundans that the dark prince will throw at us."

"When?" frowned Gunnar. "Don't you mean if?"

"No," Horst shook his head. "Prince Zinan will not stop hunting you until you are dead. Surely you realize that?"

Gunnar solemnly nodded and admitted that his Odessian friend was telling the truth. "I guess I had hoped that was not to be the case, but you are correct."

"Which is precisely why you don't want Derri along?" questioned Horst.

"Yes," sighed Gunnar. "Derri can be careless at times." Horst frowned and Gunnar immediately corrected himself. "I don't mean careless," he continued. "Derri is never careless, but he takes great risks. Sometimes he acts as if he is invincible. I would love to have him with us, but I truly fear that he will die trying to protect me. I cannot live with that on my conscience. I will not let him know that we are in Kyland, and I will not let him join us when we leave his fair city."

"He will be very upset with us if we pass through Kyland and do not make contact with him," stated the Odessian. "Have you thought about that?"

"Forget Derri for now," shrugged the Arin prince. "How is Jared doing with his lessons?"

"He learns quickly," smiled Horst. "He is still a bit stiff and unsure of himself, but the animals like him, and Odessian horses are a good judge of character. He will do fine. Give me a few weeks with him, and you will think he was born to ride."

"Good," smiled Gunnar. "The next thing we need to teach him is how to wield a sword. That will not be easy considering his father's abhorrence of weapons."

"Is it really necessary?" asked Horst. "You don't really expect him to fight if we are attacked. Why alienate him with such lessons?"

"We will not be with him forever," answered the Arin prince. "The lad must learn to defend himself. Besides, he has some of the best teachers in the world riding with him. Why waste such an opportunity?"

"You overrate your skill," laughed Horst. "You are excellent, I will grant you, but one of the best in the world?"

"I was thinking of Monte when I said that," Gunnar laughed in return, "but I am willing to match my skill against yours."

"Now that sounds like fun," grinned the Odessian. "I look forward to that spar, but I think it best to hold off until Jared becomes less squeamish around weapons."

"Agreed," nodded Gunnar.

"Mealtime," called Kerzi.

The two princes returned to the campsite and joined the others for the evening meal. After the meal, Gunnar retrieved his old sword and sat next to Jared. He began to sharpen the sword and saw the lad watching him.

"Have you ever put a fine edge on anything, Jared?" Gunnar asked.

"I've sharpened knives," answered Jared, "but never a sword. Father would never allow such a thing."

"Ah, but you were younger then," Gunnar nodded. "I would never allow children near a weapon either. Your father sounds a bit like my father. He must have been a wise man."

"He was very wise," nodded Jared. "He knew many things, and he shared them with me. What I know I learned from him."

"And he taught you how to put a fine edge on things?" asked the Arin prince.

"He did," Jared replied hesitantly, "but I don't think he meant to…"

"Show me what kind of edge you can do," smiled Gunnar as he placed his sword across the lad's legs and handed him the stone.

Jared took the stone and stared at the sword across his legs. He looked up, and everyone immediately averted their eyes as if they were paying no attention at all. Hesitantly, Jared gripped the sword and brought the stone to bear on it. Within a few minutes he was totally absorbed in doing the best job he could possibly do. Gunnar smiled inwardly at the small step towards showing Jared how to protect himself.

Kyland was unlike the other capitals of the world. Its wall was high and continually maintained. While the term royal palace was still used by most people, the home of the royal family was truly an impregnable fortress sitting high on a hill in the center of the city. Its crenelled walls sat high above the city, and sentries could easily watch the comings and goings for miles in any direction.

While Kyland had a central marketplace, as the other cities of the Land of the Nine Kingdoms did, it was smaller than most, for not all business was conducted there. The marketplace was a repository of temporary stalls that were set up each morning and taken down each evening. The permanent merchants of the Salacian capital occupied buildings all over the city, and inns and taverns could be found in every quarter.

The outer walls of Kyland rose over a hundred feet with only three gates to allow access. Outside the towering walls, the Caxon-Kyland Road intersected with the Kyland-Anatar Road allowing travelers to continue their journey without passing through the city. It was the most-defendable city in the Land of the Nine Kingdoms.

Kerzi guided the wagon through the tall, eastern gates of Kyland, and his warriors traveled close by. The merchant liked Kyland above all other cities of the land, as he did not have to avoid the city center to transact his business. He usually took a direct route to the wine sellers, but on this occasion he carried hardwoods for sale. He slowed the wagon just inside the gates, not knowing where to go.

"To the palace again?" the old man asked Gunnar who rode alongside the wagon.

"No," Gunnar replied as his eyes scanned the crowds of people moving about. "There are several merchants in the northwest quarter of the city that deal in such woods. There should be little haggling over price. Few merchants are willing to carry hardwoods so far."

"Small wonder," scowled Kerzi. "I think I may need a new wagon after this trip, and to think you want me to haul rocks after I get rid of the wood."

Gunnar smiled at the old man's bluster and waved for Jared to join him on the horse.

"I am going to take Jared to get some clothes and a few other things," Gunnar announced. "Where do you plan to sleep tonight?"

Jared grinned and leaped from the wagon onto Gunnar's horse.

"The Golden Shield," the merchant replied. "There are some decent clothiers in that section of the city. Why don't we all go there first? We can stable the horses and make sure that the inn has rooms available. I will need help unloading the wagon, and if everyone goes off on their own it won't get done."

Gunnar nodded in agreement, and Kerzi headed for the Golden Shield Inn, which was fairly close to the eastern gate. It only took a few minutes to reach the inn, and Kerzi immediately went inside to arrange for rooms. Horst took charge of the horses and started a long dialog with the stableman as to how they should be cared for. Kerzi smiled and nodded as he exited the inn, and Gunnar and Jared immediately left on foot to find a clothier.

"I will go with Kerzi to help unload," Talot announced as he climbed onto the seat of the wagon.

"Move over," said Monte as he also volunteered to help the merchant.

Horst watched the wagon pull away from the stables and returned to instructing the stableman in the proper care of Odessian horses. Horst was not always so particular with his instructions, but the stableman did not seem to have an appropriate appreciation of the animals. One look around the stables made him wonder about the man's capabilities. He saw two horses in a single stall, and he could not find a stall that appeared to have been cleaned in a month or more. He brought his observations to the attention of the stableman.

"I run these stables," snapped the stableman after Horst had asked about the filth evident everywhere he looked. "I don't need some foreigner telling me how to do my job. If you don't like it, take your horses elsewhere."

It had been meant as an empty threat, but Horst seethed at the stableman's attitude.

"That is exactly what I will do," declared Horst. "Get your hands away from my horses."

The stableman was shocked, but his first reaction was one of hostility. He immediately let go of the reins and purposely slammed a nearby stall gate, knowing the animals would bolt with alarm. His malignant smile showed that he expected Horst to spend some time rounding up his horses.

"You are unfit to care for animals," Horst said with a glare at the stableman. "If I were able to, I would punish you to a year of living in one of these stalls. Perhaps that would adjust your attitude a bit."

"Go round up your animals," sneered the stableman.

Horst walked out of the stables and stood in full view of the stableman. He put his fingers to his lips and whistled loudly, varying the pitch several times. To the stableman's amazement, the five Odessian horses came to the foreigner and stood patiently before him. Horst gathered the reins and led the horses away from the stables.

There were other stables in the vicinity of the Golden Shield Inn, but Horst was concerned that the stableman might be vindictive. He did not want anything to happen to the animals, so he led the horses for several blocks until he found stables that appeared to be well maintained. The stableman was an elderly man, but he had a young assistant; both were pleasant and appeared to know how to care for the animals.

The Odessian had no firm plans for Kyland, but he was loath to return to the Golden Shield and be in the vicinity of the uncouth stableman, so he wandered the city looking for nothing in particular. For a moment he thought he had seen Asgar, but the fleeting glance left him unsure. He tried to pursue the man, but he never found him again. He finally decided that he was probably mistaken.

After a while he found himself in the marketplace. There was nothing the Odessian needed, but he still wandered from stall to stall examining the merchandise. At one stall he saw a short knife with a belt sheath. He picked it up and examined it, thinking he might purchase it for Jared. He was unaware of the interest in him until both of his arms were suddenly grabbed from behind. Horst began to struggle with his attackers, but the only weapon he could reach was the small knife he had been examining. He shook the knife until the sheath slipped off and fell to the ground.

His arms were pulled roughly behind him, and he could not turn enough to identify his attackers, but the Odessian knew how to use a knife. His nimble fingers flitted over the knife until he was able to reverse his grip on it. As he was about to plunge the knife into one of the men behind him, Horst felt the cold steel of a sword under his chin.

"Drop the knife or die," demanded a voice.

Horst looked up and saw a Salacian officer standing before him. The man's sword was extended to Horst's throat, and the Odessian obediently dropped the knife. He heard the sound of the knife hitting the ground as he wondered why the soldiers were arresting him. There was only one reason that he could think of for the soldiers to be interested in him.

"I was only examining the knife before purchase," Horst announced. "I had no intention of stealing it."

"Take him to the old prison," ordered the officer.

A dark sack was immediately thrown over Horst's head, and he felt his weapons being removed. The search was thorough; they even took his boot knives. When the search was completed, Horst was led away. He could hear people talking in the distance, and he had no doubt that they were discussing the latest criminal to be captured in the marketplace, but he could not distinguish the words. The sack over his head dampened the sounds as well as the light.

The Odessian did not know what the old prison was, but he expected it to be in the bowels of the castle upon the hill, so it was with surprise that his journey halted not far from the marketplace. He heard the jangling of keys and the creaking of an old metal door as it swung open. His captors moved him through the doorway, and he heard another creaking door. Within moments he was shackled to a cold, stone wall.

Horst had expected the hood to be removed and an officer to interrogate him, but instead he heard the slamming of the cell door. The first door he had heard upon arriving also slammed shut, and nothing but silence and darkness remained to keep company with the Odessian prince.

Horst's mind whirled with confusion. He tried to ponder his situation and how he came to be in it, but although nothing made sense, he focused on several possibilities. The uncouth stableman could have a brother in the army who was willing to teach a foreigner a lesson. He had threatened to do much the same to the stableman given the chance. If that was the case, he need only look forward to a weary night before being discovered to have been arrested in error.

A more serious possibility was that he had indeed seen Asgar, and the Caroomite had contacts within the army. If that was the case, Horst knew that he would never leave the cell alive. Asgar could claim that the Odessian was a murderer or assassin, and Horst's body would simply disappear in the middle of the night with no one the wiser.

The third possibility was theft in the marketplace, but the Odessian found that hard to believe. He had not, after all, moved even a pace away from the stall while he held the knife. A merchant would never stay in business for long if he claimed such actions to be theft. A buyer always wanted to feel a weapon before buying it. As he dwelled upon the possibilities, Horst finally rejected the third. The fact that he was sacked and taken to an empty prison showed some sort of malice on the part of the soldiers. He had been isolated for a reason, and that thought sent a shiver through the Odessian's body.

Horst was left for several hours to ponder his fate before he heard the creaking of the outside door to the old prison. He became instantly alert and listened to the soft footsteps getting closer. From the muffled sounds, there appeared to be only one man approaching. He heard a jingle of keys and then the door to the cell creaked open. The man entered the cell and stood silently for a moment. Eventually the footsteps continued until Horst could also feel the man standing directly before him. He felt a finger probe the palm of his shackled hand, and his brow knitted in confusion.

Horst had a small scar on the palm of his hand. It was not the result of an accident, but the mark of a deliberate act when he was a child. In his youth, the Odessian prince had met two foreign boys and had instantly developed a strong bond with both of them. In an act of loyalty to each other, the three boys had pierced their palms to form a blood bond for life. The boys had maintained their secret well, and no one knew of the blood bond. The three boys had since grown into men, and each was a prince of his respective country. Prince Antion was one of those men, as was the Salacian prince.

"Derri?" gasped Horst. "What are you doing to me?"

The Salacian prince pulled off the sack and tossed it to the floor.

"I had to be sure that it was you," Prince Derri said softly as he fumbled with the keys.

Prince Derri unlocked the shackles, and Prince Umal rubbed his wrists. He stared at the Salacian prince in confusion.

"You have cut off your hair," Prince Derri remarked.

"It was some time ago," nodded the Odessian prince. "Why was I arrested?"

"You were not arrested," explained Prince Derri. "We prefer to call it detaining you. Come out of the cell. There are benches in the corridor. It will be more comfortable."

Prince Umal followed Prince Derri into the corridor and sat on the bench. The Salacian prince sat across from him on another bench.

"I don't care what you call it," scowled Prince Umal. "I was forcibly taken from the marketplace, hooded, thrown into a cell, and shackled. Is this how you treat one who has sworn a bond to you for life?"

"Are your own actions reflections of your adherence to that same bond?" questioned the Salacian prince. "You enter my country and my capital in disguise and seek to avoid me. Why?"

Prince Umal nodded in agreement. He sighed heavily and hung his head as he stared at the floor. "I cannot say," he mumbled.

"You cannot say?" echoed the Salacian prince.

"I wanted to come to see you," admitted Prince Umal, "but I realized that it was not a wise thing to do. Please don't ask me to go further. I cannot."

"You suddenly do not trust me?" inquired Prince Derri. "I thought we could trust each other with our lives? Has that changed Umal?"

"No," Prince Umal shook his head. "I do trust you with my life, but I still cannot speak of my business in Kyland. You must trust me on this."

Prince Derri shook his head and sighed heavily. He stared at his old friend and decided to take a different tact.

"Fine," said the Salacian prince. "Where are you staying while you visit my city?"

"At an inn," Prince Umal said evasively.

"Enough, Umal," scowled Prince Derri. "While I admire your loyalty to Antion, I am hurt that you think you cannot trust me. Do you really believe that I would betray either one of you? Did you ever think that I could have just as easily had you followed to find out where you are staying?"

"You know?" sighed Prince Umal. "Why are you doing this to me then? Why was I arrested?"

"For your own safety," answered the Salacian prince. "While I can guarantee that I would never cause harm to come to you or Antion, I cannot say the same about any other man, including my soldiers. If I had you followed, my soldiers would learn the truth. I could not allow that. By having you detained and brought to this old prison, they know nothing. I knew that you would reveal nothing to them, and I certainly won't, and they dare not ask me why I issued the orders that I did."

"And you let me stand here for hours to punish me for neglecting to visit you?" questioned the Odessian prince.

"Of course not," sighed Prince Derri. "I left you alone until it got dark outside. I did not want anyone to see me enter this building, and I do not want anyone to see you leave. That is also why I ordered that you be hooded. All that I have done was done to protect you and Prince Antion. Where is he?"