Dreams of Darkness Rising (64 page)

 “We place a vast degree of faith in your lady knight, Hunor,” Marthir said. “It was only a few weeks ago she had you manacled on your way to a deep dark dungeon.”

“I’ve a great faith in the power of oaths amongst the gauntleted fraternity. I mean, I know women can sometimes be difficult to anticipate…” Hunor said. Marthir jabbed him in the ribs sharply. “But she’s had innumerable opportunities to betray us. If she had a mind she could have had all of us toasted on a large fire by now. No—she’ll keep her peace until we’re away.”

“I’m not so sure—I get the sense she is plotting something, with the Goldorian knight. The way she looks at us,” Emelia said.

“Sorry, but I agree with Hunor,” Jem said. “With her appointed mission in tatters her honour is about all she’s salvaged. I do wonder why she still travels with us though. It’s almost as if she is tempted to join our quest.”

“Oh, it’s a bloody quest now?” Hunor said. “That’s great. A quest. Maximal effort. Maximal risk of death. Zero chance of profit.”

Jem scowled at Hunor as Kervin laughed.

“Orla is much like an archer seeking a target,” Mek-ik-Ten said. “She aims for what she wants, yet the winds of chance have blown her arrow aside. Soon every shot she takes will find a new path and in time she will realise that was her true target all along.”

Hunor and Marthir raised their eyebrows at the analogy.

“Regardless, we must not squander this window of opportunity. Where does our journey take us next?” Jem asked.

Emelia felt all eyes upon her.

“I saw three places in the vision. A ruined building in a swamp with some lizard headed statue. There was a place of fire, with lava. And finally, a woodland.”

The group was silent for a few moments, the crackle of the fire the only sound.

“Well the forest one is a bit vague,” Kervin said. “I mean there are woods in every land in Nurolia. But the other two are more useful. ‘Place of fire’ had got to be somewhere in Pyrios: those are the only volcanoes I know of. We could have used Ygris here for that.”

“What about the other place?” Emelia asked.

Kervin appeared apprehensive and looked to the others.

“Kervin is correct to look concerned,” Jem said. “It sounds like Ssinthor or at least the region of Ssinthor dominated by the lizardmen. If there are any more details about the temple we may be able to locate it precisely.”

“How?” Emelia asked, looking blank.

“The Revered Library in Goldoria City is immense. It has tomes detailing locations in the lizard lands. We could visit it whilst the remainder of our party secure a ship for us,” Jem said.

“Sounds best if I go to the docks like we discussed and look up one of our old mates eh, Jem?” Hunor said. “You and Emelia and maybe Kervin can go to the library.”

“And what about me and Master Ten?” Marthir said irritably. “A bit of sight seeing? Pop in and see the Gold Synod? Are you our leader all of a sudden?”

“Well I’d overheard Orla being invited to Sir Krem’s mansion for wine and a night of throwing stones at the poor, or something. Perhaps you’ll want to join them so it doesn’t look too discourteous?”

Marthir spluttered at the suggestion but as bad luck would have it Lady Orla and Sir Krem chose that moment to walk to the fireside.

“It would be my immense delight to entertain your beautiful wife Kervin and…by the Father’s light, have you torn your frock my dear?”

Marthir shifted her legs giving Sir Krem a significant flash of tanned thigh. “Oh my word, you are correct. Perhaps I shall purchase some more traditional Goldorian attire in the City prior to setting sail.”

“Indeed, indeed. The priests may well have palpitations at the sight of those...uhm, fine…smooth…legs. It is a tragedy that you plan to sail so soon for Artoria. I shall make it my quest to convince you all to remain for the Summer Games.”

“Perhaps you may,” Kervin said with a smile. “I have business in the City with Jem and I wonder perchance if I could have use of your servant for the evening, Lady Orla?”

Emelia stiffened at Kervin’s side as Orla met his gaze with her cool eyes. “Of course, Kervin. My pleasure. And Mek-ik-Ten?”

“The business does not require the presence of a Galvorian eye,” Master Ten said with a shrug. “I would be delighted to accompany you, m’lady.”

Orla nodded and glanced at Hunor, who winked surreptitiously. “And you, master Hunor?”

“Ah, well, it’d be privilege and honour to accompany you, m’lady, but it is my rather tedious task to secure us passage on a ship to our respective destinations.”

“It is such as shame for you all to miss the glory of Goldoria in the summertime,” Krem said, stretching wearily. “It is the jewel in Mortis’s crown, unsullied as it is by the stain of sorcery.”

The companions all smiled politely and rose to accompany Krem and Orla to the area where the squires prepared the food. Behind Sir Krem’s back, Marthir exposed a sizeable length of thigh to Hunor and Kervin with a bawdy wink. The pair shook their heads at her nerve.

The group moved past the companions’ small wagon, wherein their weapons from Parok lay concealed. Hunor glanced back at Emelia and caught her looking balefully at Marthir. She became aware of Hunor’s gaze and with a blush scuttled forward to join the others.

***

The breeze from the west carried the scent of rain and a chillier air. Hunor stirred his horse along the Gods Highway from the rear of their caravan towards the centre. Mek-ik-Ten and Marthir had begun a discussion on the current state of North Artorian politics. Hunor’s only current interest in North Artoria was whether Sir Tinkek could continue to act as his middle man for the streams of illicit cash he decanted to the estate in Thetoria. He allowed himself a smile of affection for little Hela; he really should sneak back there when all this nonsense with the crystal was done.

Kervin rode with Emelia in the middle of the party, travelling in the wake of Sir Krem’s two over-laden wagons and their own small one which Jem rode. Hunor could see Emelia gesturing towards the front of the group and Kervin placating her.

Hunor had a lot of time for Kervin; in fact he had always admired the tracker. Kervin was solid, reliable and had integrity. His travels had given him the wisdom of the nomad and a skill in diffusing any crisis. Emelia had really taken to him in these days in Goldoria, especially as Jem became moodier and more reclusive. Kervin was a good man to have nearby, not a natural leader but a damn fine warrior to have backing up your decisions and following your lead.

And who was that leader? Marthir’s jibe, the night before last, had irked him. In the old days, Master Hü-Jen had been the leader. Now who was going to try and fill those shoes? Master Ten was wise yet reserved, his philosophies raising more questions than they answered. Jem had the intellect but not the drive nor the confidence. Emelia lacked the maturity and self-belief. With Orla committed to return to Coonor that left him and Marthir.

Marthir had clearly been in charge of Kervin and Ygris in their forays over the last few years. Hunor had to admit she was bright, passionate and charismatic. Yet there was something missing. Her agenda was above the groups and that was not a good trait in a leader.

With a sigh, Hunor acknowledged that that meant it was down to him: a Thetorian thief and vagabond, a rogue and a rascal. Could he lead a group on some crazed mission to reconstruct an ancient artefact?

“…definitely aimed at me. I’m certain, Kervin. Why else would they be talking about servitude and slaves?” Emelia said.

“Come on, Emelia, calm down. You’re being paranoid. She hadn’t even initiated that line of conversation. The fat knight had.”

“She still thinks I’m a housemaid in the Keep. It doesn’t matter what I do or say does it? I’ve had it with the stuck up…”

Hunor suspected Emelia was fired up about the prior night. Listerthwaite had invoked the tradition of ‘Lord’s shelter’ upon a small hamlet of farmers before selfishly devouring the prize livestock without an iota of conscience. Ah well, Hunor thought, life’s tough at the bottom and at least they all had full bellies today.

“Pipe down, for Nolir’s sake,” Kervin said. “We’ve come this far without trouble. Don’t endanger it all with your temper on the last few steps. By tomorrow you’ll be rid of her and the Goldorian knight.”

Hunor came level with the pair. Emelia looking stunned at Kervin’s brusque reply.

“Kervin’s talking some sense, love. Our time with Orla will be done by tomorrow and Coonor can stay a distant memory.”

Emelia looked at Hunor and for an instant he thought he could see the glimmer of fever again in her diamond eyes. Then the flare from her cheeks diminished and she nodded, embarrassed by her outburst.

“Sorry, Hunor. She just reminds me of a past I’m trying to bury deep.”

“Aye, love, I’m sure. We’ve all got histories to put in the ground. Even Kervin. You should see what he’s done in the past after a few ales.”

“Let an old man have some dignity,” Kervin said.

“No harm in a few secrets, old matey. So have you decided whether you’re going with Marthir to the Great Forest or sticking with us on our world tour?”

“I’m fairly sure Marthir can manage without me for a while. She’s had to put up with my irritating habits for the last eight years now. No, old friend, I’ll be coming with you.”

Hunor laughed and slapped the tracker on the back. Emelia found herself grinning too. With a wink at Emelia, Hunor trotted past the wagons. Jem may not be best pleased but Kervin’s skill in battle would be invaluable.

Hunor felt an odd sensation running down his spine as he passed the wagons. He glanced towards one of Sir Krem’s squires and caught the tail end of a glare of abject hatred. Hunor shrugged it off—the squires were treated like dirt by the old blaggard and probably disliked the companions by association.

Sir Krem was indulging in his two favourite pastimes: talking loudly and eating. He gestured with a half chewed pork leg.

“…no doubt in my mind that we were foolish to give up slavery when the Empire went down the drain. It was one thing the Artorian boys learnt well off you Eerians, I say.”

Lady Orla looked nervous as Hunor neared, as if she had been caught discussing treason.

“We accept in Eeria that perhaps our ways are a touch traditional for some nations, Sir Krem,” Orla said. “And not all of the Eerian nobility are convinced of the merits of slavery. I mean servitude is a far more progressive and charitable policy.”

“Progressive…yes, yes, I see that,” Krem said, pork spraying from his mouth. “I keep thinking of those dark chaps you use to repair your roads. But your servants…splendid idea. Shelling out a lump sum and then having them for a decade and a half, with no need for monthly wages. I pay mine a pittance—I expect you keep your minions far better under your…progressive scheme.”

 “Well—I mean—we do try to maintain a certain standard, I suppose,” Orla said.

“What say you Hunor? It’d be good to hear the opinion of one of the lower classes,” Krem said.

Hunor glanced at Orla who looked as if she would shrivel in embarrassment. Not far to go to Goldoria City, he thought, humour the dullard.

 “Well travel with the lady has certainly broadened my perspectives, Sir Listerthwaite. I’d hope if I ever visited Eeria that Lady Orla wouldn’t hearken back to the time of the Empire and pop me in chains.”

“A fine jest, Hunor—you chaps from the Delta really are most droll. No, no I’m sure Lady Orla would be a kind mistress to you, eh?”

“Oh I’d be certain to get my money’s worth, Sir Krem,” Orla said, with a coy smile.

The tension between them lasted a few seconds until the oblivious Goldorian hooted in delight.

“Our Parokian friend Jem did well to strike a partnership with you—I expect the little Galvorian is worth his weight in gold also?”

“Aye, his advice has been…priceless. In fact trading and travelling with our foreign cousins has been very revealing. I’d certainly welcome the opportunity to work on international relations with Lady Orla.”

Orla’s eyes widened but her reply was cut short by a burst of delight from Sir Krem. “By the Father’s majestic light, we’ve made good time. It’s only late afternoon and I do believe we shall sight the City as we come over this next crest.”

It pained Hunor to admit it but Goldoria City was without doubt one of the most impressive places he had ever encountered. It came into view as the group cleared the rise of the ridge and the road fell away down to the wide plain that lead to the costal city.

***

Goldoria City was built from the purple rock of the eastern sea board. The city ran between two bays that were situated north and south of a tall rocky pinnacle. The pinnacle soared hundreds of feet into the air and, on the side bordering the sea, sheer cliffs fell precipitously to the foam of the Sea of Mists. On the other aspects the oldest part of the city had evolved. Regal purple stone houses perched like giant seagulls on the steep slopes as they descended to the newer areas of the city at its base. Its buildings and streets flowed north and south to the two bays and westwards to the city walls and even beyond to the townships that had grown both around the end of the Gods Highway and the shores of the River Parok.

Krem pointed his greasy hand towards the peak of the pinnacle.

“Atop the old quarter is the Gilded Pool, the sacred water that Queen Elanor placed the Holy Chalice in sixteen hundred years ago. It’s hard to think that this was just barren coastline back then. Praise to the Father he gave us such a beauteous place.”

Emelia drew level with Krem and her earlier fury was abated by a sudden flush of dread.

A city of purple stone: it was the city within her dreams; the city in which she ran from the presence that pursued her.

“How many walls has the city got? From this vantage point there looks to be a half dozen,” she asked, desperate to divert her mind.

“Your servant’s eyes are as keen as they are pretty, Lady Orla. There is a wall around each quarter yet they merge into one another in places. The oldest is at the base of the pinnacle, it borders the Old Quarter. Around South bay you see the wall that surrounds the merchant quarter. That area of the city developed during the first Empire. The New Quarter is the section of the city that runs from the Old City wall westwards towards us and that is the wall the Artorians had us build, as is the northern wall that borders the Military Quarter.”