Storms of Destiny (51 page)

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Authors: A. C. Crispin

Tags: #Eos, #ISBN-13: 9780380782840

BOOK: Storms of Destiny
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“I agree,” the Prince said. “But, Jezzil, there are many kinds of love. The kind of love you’re probably thinking of is something I feel for … someone else. Someone I can never have. I

don’t think I’ll ever feel that way about anyone else. But that doesn’t mean I couldn’t come to love Thia, and she me.”

“Of course,” Jezzil said, his voice a monotone. “I understand. But would court life agree with her? It all seems very devious from what you’ve said.”

Eregard gave a grunt that might have been ironic laughter.

“Good term. You’re right, of course. But there are those who stay above that sort of thing, even in the court. My father never had a mistress, nor my mother a lover. They’ve been happy with each other for …” He paused to think. “… thirty years, it will be, in just a few months.” He sighed. “My mother hasn’t been well for a while, and usually keeps to her apartments. But when I was younger, the entire family would go to the country, or sailing on the royal yacht … We really were a family.”

“That’s good,” Jezzil said. “In my country it’s different.

Little boys live with their mothers, shut off from the rest of the household except for meals and religious observances.

Later, when I was older, I was with the men, and hardly ever saw my mother or sisters. Then I left my family when I was seven, to become a warrior apprentice.”

Jezzil sighed, remembering the day he’d left home, how he’d caught a glimpse of his mother at the upstairs window, peering out from behind the curtain. “Later, I was chosen out of a hundred boys to try out for the Pen Jav Dal, the Order of the Silent Ones. It’s hard now to remember my family.

I haven’t seen them in more than ten years.”

“The soldiers of the Redai aren’t granted leave from duty?”

“Regular troops, yes. But not the Pen Jav Dal. We’re priests as well as warriors, and we are supposed to remain cloistered, no contact with the outside world except when on duty, and no contact at all with women.”

Eregard grimaced. “What a price to pay for being one of the elite! Women are one of nature’s greatest blessings …

some women, at least.”

“So I have been learning,” Jezzil muttered. “But I still practice my religion. For me to even befriend Thia and Talis was …” He hesitated. “Well, it wasn’t something I’d ever expected to happen.”

“You know what they say. ‘Expect the unexpected.’ ”

The Chonao smiled wryly. “I suppose so. Do you … do you think Thia loves you?”

“I don’t know. I think she cares for me. I suppose I’ll find out.”

He sounds confident,
Jezzil thought sourly.
But why
shouldn’t he be? He’s a prince.

“When do you plan to ask her?”

Eregard thought for a moment. “Tomorrow. When the fog is gone and the harbor of Minoma lies before us. It’s a beautiful city, built on a mountainside. The palace is built of pale gray stone, with black granite pillars. The roofs are red tiles.”

He sighed happily. “There’s a huge fortress wall runs around the Old City and the palace. The New City spills out down the hillside, all the way to cliffs that lead down to the harbor.

The houses are pink and white and pale green stucco.”

Jezzil nodded. “It sounds beautiful.”

“Oh, it is. It’s almost summer; there will be flowering trees and bushes everywhere. Little cafés with tables outside on stone patios. Colorful awnings, and everywhere the smell of the flowers …” He smiled. “I’ve missed it so much.”

“Naturally,” Jezzil said.

“Tomorrow,” Eregard said, staring off into the fog, still with that faraway expression. “Tomorrow I’ll ask her. After the fog lifts.”

The fog did indeed lift shortly after sunrise, revealing blue skies with a few puffy white clouds, a blue-green ocean— —and seven small but heavily armed Meptalith vessels surrounding
The Pride of Pela
.

It was Thia who first saw them. Trained from childhood to rise each day before sunrise, she awoke early, as usual.

Dressing quietly, she slipped out of the small cabin and went up on deck, hugging her shawl around her as she strolled back and forth, watching the eastern horizon. As the Sun rose and the ships materialized out of the fleeing darkness, she cried out to a passing sailor, pointing. Thia didn’t recognize the ships, but the fact that they were surrounded indicated unfriendly intentions.

Her fears were quickly confirmed. The sailor she’d summoned took one look, swore, then went racing away, yelling.

Within moments the deck resounded with the pounding of feet and the shouts of seamen and officers.

Thia huddled against Falar’s stall, trying to stay out of the way.
I have to warn the others,
she realized, and carefully made her way to the narrow ladder that led below. First she entered the tiny cabin she and Talis shared and shook the Katan woman awake. “Wake up! The ship is surrounded!”

Talis’s green eyes opened, then she sat up, cursing as fluently as any of the sailors. “I knew it was too good to be true!” As Thia left, she was yanking on her clothes.

Next she darted into the cabin where Khith, Eregard, and Jezzil slept in their hammocks. “Wake up!” she gasped.

“Come on, wake up! There are ships out there. I counted seven, and they’re all around us.”

Jezzil swung out of his hammock in one fluid motion and stood there, bare-chested and clad only in his drawers. Thia glanced away, feeling her face grow hot. She’d never seen so much male flesh in her life.

Eregard raised himself on his elbow, eyeing her blearily.

“Wha … ? What?”

“Ships!” she said. “Hurry, get dressed! We’re surrounded by ships!”

Eregard snarled a word in Pelanese that Thia didn’t recognize, and slumped back into his hammock. “Goddess,” he added. “Not
again
!”

Thia whirled and raced out of the cabin, then up the ladder and back onto the deck. The sun had lifted past the lowlying clouds now, and the ships surrounding them were all too clear. One of them had broken the ring and was under sail, approaching
The Pride of Pela
.

As the ship drew nearer, she could make out a man in armor standing in the bow, the wind of the passage blowing his long black hair out behind him.

Moments later Talis joined her at the railing. “Are we going to fight?” Thia asked.

“I doubt it,” Talis said. “The
Pride
is outgunned and surrounded.”

Khith came up to join them. The little Hthras was shivering in the early morning air, despite the protection of its wool robe. “That man …” The doctor pointed at the black-haired man Thia had noticed. “He is …”

When the Hthras hesitated, Thia asked, “He is what, Master Khith?”

The Hthras shook its softly furred head, its huge eyes holding apprehension and sadness. “He is … important to us in some way. Now, and in the future. If I but had the time, I could scry out what he means, but—”

“Of course he’s important to us,” Talis said. “He’s the Chonao leader of this fleet. I wonder if he’s the Redai himself?”

“No, he’s not.” Jezzil’s voice came from behind them. They turned to see him shading his eyes against the eastern light.

“Kerezau has much lighter hair. And he always wears a battle helm with a scarlet plume, so the troops can recognize him.”

Thia watched as the Meptalith vessel drew closer, Jezzil standing beside her. As the boat approached and she leaned against him, she felt the muscles in his arm grow rock-hard.

Looking up at him, she saw his green gaze fixed on the boat and the man standing in the prow.

When the boat was within earshot, they heard the leader demanding that the
Pride
surrender. Captain Garano replied that they would surrender without a fight as long as passengers and crew were taken to within sight of Pela and allowed to leave the ship in the lifeboats, unmolested.

The leader gave his assent, then ordered them to drop a boarding ladder.

Moments later a contingent of Chonao soldiers had swarmed aboard, then stood, swords in hand, as their leader made a more leisurely, dignified assent.

When the man with the long black hair finally stepped onto the deck, Thia realized that Jezzil was so tense he was

nearly trembling. He was muttering under his breath, and she couldn’t tell whether he was cursing or praying.

Then, before she could move or speak, Jezzil lunged forward, nearly babbling in his own language. Thia heard what she thought was a name.
Barus?
Jezzil lunged at him, arms out, obviously ready to embrace him.

When the man he called Barus did not move, or speak, or smile, Jezzil slowed, then halted, obviously confused and hurt. He spoke again, using that same name, Barus, but this time he seemed to be asking a question.

Barus—if that was indeed his name—abruptly smiled, his teeth flashing, and raised both arms. Jezzil let out an exultant sound, half sob, half laugh, and went to embrace him.

Without warning Barus’s armored fist flashed forward like a striking snake, to smash into Jezzil’s face with an audible
crack
. Jezzil staggered back, blood erupting from his nose, eyes wide with shock. He crumpled to the deck and lay still, unmoving save for the blood trickling down.

Barus looked down at him again, and the wide smile had turned cruel and mocking. He raised his foot, then kicked Jezzil viciously in the side.

“No! Stop that!” Thia made no conscious decision, was barely aware that she had bolted toward the motionless pair—until Talis and Eregard grabbed her and restrained her.

“Thia! No!” Eregard ordered. “You can’t help him!”

Barus turned to look at them and smiled slightly. “That’s right, you can’t,” he said in accented Pelanese. “How interesting to discover that my former friend has new comrades.”

He smiled. “Two women, eh? You are his concubines?”

Talis muttered an oath. This time she was the one who had to be restrained.

Barus laughed, obviously enjoying their distress. He issued orders to his men, and several of them scattered to begin tying up the captain and his officers. He gestured to Jezzil, who was beginning to stir, and gave orders. With a sideways glance at the onlookers, he translated them. “You two, pick up this cowardly sack of pig guts and confine him to an empty hold. Post a guard.”

The men saluted and sprang to do his bidding.

Thia turned a despairing glance at Talis, who was standing with eyes narrowed, obviously considering and then discard-ing possible actions. She turned to see Khith regarding Jezzil with distress as one of the Chonao tossed a bucket of saltwa-ter into his face. Jezzil’s eyes opened and he choked, gasped, then moaned as the others hauled him to his feet. His knees buckled. Thia mouthed, “Help him! We have to help him!”

Khith shook its head ever so slightly and whispered, barely above a breath, “Later.”

As the guards dragged Jezzil away, Barus turned to another of his men and gave rapid orders in his native tongue.

“What did you tell them?” Thia blurted helplessly.

Barus turned to translate again, smiling broadly. “I told them to go to the flagship and tell the Redai we have captured a traitor. As soon as he arrives to sign the order for execution, I’ll have the distinct pleasure of hanging my old friend.” He pointed upward. “From
that
yardarm.”

Blood Magic


Hang him
?” Talis blurted, “for
what
?”

Barus regarded her as though she were some new and not very interesting variety of insect. “Desertion, for one thing.

And probably treason.” He glanced at another of his guards.

“These people who were traveling with Jezzil, escort them belowships and lock them in a cabin. I’ll let the Redai deal with him when he arrives.”

As the guard moved toward them, Talis stepped hurriedly to the fore. “Wait!” She fumbled for the leather packet she carried beneath her tunic. “My name is Talis Aloro, and I’m the Special Envoy from Kata to the Redai.” Hastily, she pulled out a paper, checked that it was the correct one, and handed it to him. “This is my authorization.”

Barus scanned the paper. Talis wondered briefly whether the Chonao could read Pelanese script, while thanking the Goddess above that Castio had supplied her with two sets of papers—one for King Agivir, the other for the Redai, in the event their ship was captured.

Finally the Chonao leader looked up. “And who are these others?” He fixed his dark gaze on Khith. “And what is
that
?

A Hthras?” He studied the physician. “Never saw one before. Not a live one, anyway. My father had a stuffed one mounted on his wall.”

Talis glanced at Khith, willing the doctor to remain quiet.

The huge eyes remained fixed on Barus, but the Hthras said not a word.

“Yes, Dr. Khith is traveling as my personal physician,”

Talis said, thinking fast, “and Eregard here is my slave. Thia is my maid.”

He gave her a long, raking stare, his gaze traveling up her body from her men’s riding boots, to her buckskin breeches, to her man’s shirt and jerkin, ending finally at her hair— hastily braided, hairpins sticking out of her bun. The Chonao smiled mockingly. “If she’s your lady’s maid, you need to dismiss her, Mistress Aloro.”

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