Warden (Blade Asunder Book 3) (4 page)

“Has the Duchess been treated badly?” Ghaffar asked, knowing the answer already.

“Ghaffar, you know perfectly well that your people are treating me with the utmost respect. What I’m trying to convey to you is that you have gone about this in the wrong manner.”

“Are you saying that had I asked you for the Berghein stones back, you would have willingly given them, knowing that your magical skills will be weakened?”

“That depends upon your reasoning as to why we must return these stones. Do you have proof that it was your people who gave the stones to the D’Anjue ancestors in the first place?”

The Duchess was always open to reasoning, but Ghaffar had provided none, and she could not know whether he simply coveted the stones for underhand reasons. Besides, descendants of her bloodline had only recently found all the Berghein stones and brought them together. They would not give them up easily, especially as a D’Anjue now served on the throne.

These stones would help prevent any more attempts to unseat the true heir. They would protect Myriam and any heirs she produces. How can this little man, who calls himself a monk, expect her family to simply hand over the stones to them?

“My sources inform me that, indeed, your family are on their way to rescue you. They must love you dearly,” Ghaffar said, and then promptly bowed as he left the room.

“Obnoxious little man,” the Duchess mumbled to herself.

Since she had been brought to this strange place, she had no other company other than her own, so she was inclined to talk to herself. It helped her think things through. There was something he was not telling her but she had yet to find out what it was.

The problem at the moment was her forgetfulness, although she often associated it with her old age, plus all that she had gone through recently, she also knew she was not usually so bad. She vaguely remembered Ghaffar convincing her to leave with him, but she could not remember why, and now she felt certain that she was being kept here against her will.

The door was locked all the time and she saw no one but the monk. He had treated her well enough and healed the injuries she had received from being tortured, but yet she still felt a sickness deep inside. Something was wrong but she could not determine exactly what it was. She had endured much pain to allow her granddaughter to escape. Never would she begrudge Myriam her freedom at the price of her torture, but now that she was Queen, she had hoped that Myriam would send someone to her rescue.

Not trusting the monk, Ghaffar, it left her with no one to confide in. All she could do was wait for events to unfold and hope that this would all be resolved soon, as it seemed a party was on its way to her. She hoped that Myriam had stayed in Palara as she felt certain there were dangers here for the Queen should she come herself.

Always, she felt a claustrophobia in this catacomb of a city. The rooms were large and the city was well developed, but at the end of the day there was no fresh air to breath. The only ventilation that lingered was what had managed to filter through the built in network of airway tunnels. Even lizards needed to breath air to survive.

Feeling tired as she always seemed to be these days, she lay her head down and was soon in a fitful slumber. In her sleep she tossed and turned, dreaming of her blood seeping away from her body. It was a fitful rest, and she was glad to awaken and find herself still alive.

Yet, it was always the same when she woke up from the dream, she had a sense that she had not been alone. She always sensed that someone had come into her room and had left before she awoke. Why she sensed this, she did not know, but she felt it was a part of the reason as to why she was here.

This time, she knew someone was in the room and when she awakened, they were still there. She saw it was a female lizard. She could just make it out in the shadows and knew it was a female as they smelled more pleasanter than the males, who had a distinctly unpleasant sour odor.

The female spoke to another in the room but the Duchess could not see very well and felt light headed. Nor could she understand the language of these lizard people.

“
She has awoken early,
” the female said in her own tongue, knowing that the human would not understand her words. “
Shall I drug her some more?
”

“
No, take what blood you have to our Empress, that will placate her for now,
” a voice replied in the same language. She recognized it as belonging to Ghaffar. “
I will deal with the consequences,
” he assured the female who was quite concerned she did not have a full cup of blood.

A voice called her name and the Duchess was somewhat confused as to where she was. As of late she was getting weaker, not stronger.

“Duchess D’Anjue,” there was the voice again. “Are you well?”

The Duchess peered into the dim room to see the little monk looming over her. She sat up with a start.

“How long have you been present in my room while I rest?” she demanded.

“Your voice could be heard calling out, so I was sent to check in on your safety. I think you were having a dream, Duchess,” Ghaffar explained. “I have brought you refreshment. You must keep up your strength.”

He passed her a glass containing a warm liquid which she drank gratefully. She was never certain what this cup contained, but he had explained once that it was a mix of local herbs which helped to build strength. Whatever it was she always felt better after taking it.

She passed him back the glass and laid her head back onto the pillow, her eyes heavy again. She meant to ask him who the other person had been in the room with them, but it did not seem important anymore as a warm feeling swept over her, easing her worries.

Ghaffar smiled as the Duchess slipped back into slumber. He contemplated for a moment calling the servant girl back in to finish the blood draining, but decided against it. The Empress would have to make do with less tonight. There would be plenty to come in the future. If his spies were to be believed then the whole remaining bloodline of the D’Anjue were making their way to them.

Yes, soon she would have all the blood she needed to survive her next transformation.

The group had traded their horses for camels as this creature was more suited for the new terrain they had to cross. Myriam liked her camel, who was called Al Bikra, because she had not mated yet. She was one of the two humps variety which made riding her more comfortable. Al Bikra was partial to dates, and whoever fed her them would receive her loyalty. With this in mind, Myriam always had a pocket full of the sticky fruit at the ready.

The others in the group were not so lucky. Ganry’s was a seasoned camel but also a little on the feisty side, not always doing what Ganry commanded. Each camel had its own character, just as the horses at home, only camels were proving a little moodier.

Perseus led the train of camels who seemed happy to walk in single line as they progressed through the dry arid landscape. They were heading towards a large desert area which should take them onto the forbidden lands where the Akkedis Mense ruled.

They passed by many mines where it appeared that the workers were slaves. Myriam’s parents had disapproved of such practices, and after witnessing the cruelty of the poor workers, Myriam vowed she would never allow this in her Kingdom.

It was clear that these people were worked to the death and she wondered if they were perhaps prisoners. She must remember to ask Perseus about slavery and see if it was something her own people could find the power to stop, especially if trade was strong. Maybe they could bring in laws that nothing could be traded if slavery was involved in the process.

Vandemland was famous for its rare and precious gems, so surely it could afford to pay their workers. Myriam felt strongly about this and was determined to do her very best to ensure none of her trading partners used slavery.

“You are deep in your thoughts,” Ganry’s voice interrupted her planning.

“I don’t like to see people used in this way, Ganry. Look at them. Many seem near death. Why do the leaders of this land allow such cruelty?” she quizzed him, knowing he was a man of much experience.

Hendon then rode up by her other side as he had overheard her comments.

“Artas told me that Duke Harald sent over his Captain of the Guard as a spy, but he was sold into slavery. He was put to death at one of the mines for attempting to escape. It did not come to light until after the battle. Border guards had heard tell of the tale from a merchant called Ragnald. He had informed the slave guards of Captain Henrickson’s attempted escape and he was let free for being so loyal. Mind you, I’ve also heard tell that once a slave you will never be freed. Terrible business,” Hendon concluded.

“You have much to say on this matter, Hendon,” Myriam smiled. “I believe we agree on this and perhaps upon our return we can approach the politicians to put pressure on such practices. If anything, maybe we can improve conditions for these poor people.”

“It would take hundreds of years for such changes to happen,” Ganry said. “It is the way of these people. Concern yourself with your own lands, Myriam, not those beyond your control.”

Queen Myriam said no more on the subject, but she would not forget.

Most nights they camped out but occasionally they arrived at one of Qutaybah’s properties. They were due to stop at one for this night and Myriam looked forward to sleeping in a real bed. It’s not that she wasn’t used to sleeping outside, she had spent many a rough night on the roads when she was escaping the clutches of her cruel uncle. Still, it did not mean that she could not enjoy the comforts of a soft bed and pillows, and maybe even a means of bathing. These luxuries were all the more enjoyable since she had lived life on the run.

The building was only a single storey, but it was large as it seemed to spread out over the land. Most buildings they had passed in these parts were painted in white because of the heat. This was no different. They arrived into a courtyard where servants received them and relieved them of their burdens. Food was supplied in abundance.

Myriam wondered if these servants were also slaves. If they were, then their lot was much better than the ones she had seen in the mines. These looked healthy and well fed, yet how could anyone live happily if they were not free to chose their own way in life?

Too tired to approach Perseus, she simply ate a light meal and went to her rooms where, luckily, a bath tub full of warm water awaited. Soaking her aching body in such comfort and ridding her skin and hair of road dust, it seemed that all was well with the world. What could possibly go wrong?

At dinner that very evening, Myriam brought up the subject of slavery with Perseus.

“I’m curios, Perseus, to know if the people who work for Qutaybah are slaves?”

Perseus had proved to be a man of few words, so she was surprised at the lengthy explanation he gave.

“Are not we all slaves in some way, Queen Myriam? We all try to live our lives as best we can, but we must eat and clothe ourselves and our families. We must have a roof over our heads. We all need these rewards for the work that we perform. I understand the concept may be difficult, but most enter slavery willingly for the security it provides them, and there are other advantages too. In my homeland slaves are not allowed to wander freely or unaccompanied, this helps in reducing crime. Is this not a good thing?”

Myriam did not answer straight away as he had made some good points. As she ate her food, she contemplated on his words. It would not do to rush at a reply and yet have no reasoning behind her argument.

“Yes, Perseus,” she spoke so all could hear. “In a sense we all must slave to provide the necessities of life, such as food and shelter, but that is not slavery to a master, that is slavery to a system. A slave who is purchased by a cruel master will not care about rewards, indeed, I do not think those poor people in the mines were hardly even fed.”

“Those in the mines are often the criminals of society, but others do end up there as well, this is true,” Perseus admitted. “My own master rewards his slaves well, but yes, we do belong to him.”

“Wouldn’t you like to travel to other places, yourself, Perseus?”

“I do travel, when my master instructs me, and I do see other places, Queen,” he replied.

She understood Perseus to be loyal to Qutaybah, his master, so she would not question him further, it would not be fair. This was something she had to live with as a Queen of a people who have freedom. It would take many, many years to forge changes, but she hoped her legacy in years to come would be that of the Queen who opposed slavery in all its forms.

For now she had other matters and events that needed to be dealt with immediately, and could not wait.

“Perseus, I appreciate your honesty,” she smiled at him. “Tell me, do you have a family?”

Perseus was uncomfortable with this line of questioning, but he knew she was a Queen and his master had impressed upon him how important the Duchess was to him. So, he must take great care of this granddaughter to the Duchess that his master praised so highly.

“I have no family, Queen, I serve only my master.” With that he stood, bowed and left the room.

Myriam tried not to look at Ganry immediately. She knew he would be scowling at her. Finally, she lifted her head and forced her eyes over to his battle hardened features.

“I am a Queen, I have to learn,” she said to him. Then she herself stood and left the room, not giving Ganry the opportunity to reply.

“Our Queen is trying to understand the world around her,” Hendon offered him.

Ganry said nothing. He too hated slavery, but it would take more than an idealist Queen to change the world.

***

Artas was pleased how his session with the merchants had gone. Most were complaining at the opening of the borders as the competition from bordering nations was forcing them to lower their prices. The influx of foreign traders did not sit well with the Palaran merchants, but the people of this nation would benefit from it and it was a masterstroke by Queen Myriam.

With one single decision the stores were full once again with an abundance of food, and the people were beginning to reap the benefits of her rule. As a concession to the local traders, he had agreed to tax imported goods which would increase the price to meet local prices. Artas knew this was not the answer, but equally, it meant he could have a good night’s sleep tonight, with happy local traders not complaining in his ears.

All he had to do was hold the kingdom temporarily. Once Myriam returned with her retinue, she would have many advisors to help her make more permanent decisions about trading. For now, he simply wanted to find temporary solutions and he felt he had achieved this.

When he arrived in the main parlor, both Parsival and Lady Leonie were there already. It was time to catch up on the noble’s gossip. Lady Leonie had already built an intricate network of spies in all levels of Palaran society. Artas thought she would be a great help to the Queen, as she would need such skills to run her kingdom.

“I hear tell the ladies are wanting the Queen to marry as soon as she’s well again,” Leonie informed them.

“Are they indicating who they wish this husband to be?” Artas asked, quite amused at their presumptions.

“Well, some think it should be you,” she smiled at Artas, knowing that would amuse him. “Others say someone from Vandemland, in order to bring the neighbors closer together by the tying of our two great nations with a marital bond. It seems none were interested in the Queen’s wishes. They say it should be a political marriage.”

“From what I know of our new Queen, I don’t think she’ll be that easily persuaded,” Parsival added.

“I would marry Myriam tomorrow if it would make her happy, but I don’t think I’m the one she would chose,” Artas said, a little sadness in his heart. “I’m happy just to be her personal knight. I imagine Ganry will train me for the role, and when he grows older, I will stand in his place.”

“Ganry will never be too old to stand by his Queen. Even in his dying hours he will be at her side,” Parsival said. “I fear you will have a long wait, my friend.”

“Poor, poor Artas.” Lady Leonie kissed his cheek. “I know you feel disappointed that the Queen left you behind, Artas, but I believe it’s only because you don’t have the D’Anjue bloodline. She has come to rely on Ganry, and when he returns he will help you in your training.”

She felt that she had become good friends with Artas and liked him. He was young and brave and turning into a handsome man. She was no match for the Queen, who he clearly had his heart set on, but she believed she had more in common with Artas than Myriam had.