The Coastal Kingdoms of Olvion: Book Two of The Chronicles of Olvion (31 page)

Dwan stared at Dayel for a long moment before turning back to Tallun.  “It is true that my man has gone.  He will return.  He has traveled farther than you could ever imagine to find me the first time.  He will do so again.  When he does you will discover what it means to incur the fury of a man of Olvion.”

Most of the other women shouted their agreement and support.  Tallun rolled his eyes.  Then the sound of feet on the stairs was heard.  Six men including slave master Morlee descended into the room.  Morlee pointed at Dwan and the others rushed forward.  Dwan slashed at the first one but was overpowered and the spike torn from her grasp.  They then turned her face to the wall, and two of them each held an arm.  Morlee stepped forward and leaned in closely to her ear.  She smelled his rancid breath as he said “I’m going to enjoy this.”

Morlee grabbed the back of her blouse and ripped it open exposing her back and shoulders.  The slave master looked back at Captain Tallun with raised brows.

The captain sighed, “Such a shame.  Still, there appears to be no help for it.  Make it five.  No, ten.”

As the other women watched in horror Morlee employed his short braided whip to Dwan’s back.  Each strike left a long and angry looking red whelp.  Several of them seeped blood.  When he had administered all ten strokes, Morlee stepped back with a self-satisfied smile.

Tallun noticed that the woman accepted her punishment with not even a whimper.  The men holding her arms released her.  She turned, pulling her blouse back to cover herself.  There were no tears and no hint of submission in her eyes.  Instead she stared directly at Tallun.

“My husband’s name is Tag-Gar.  Many call him The Legend.  Remember his name.  Because by your actions today you have insured that he will track you down wherever you are hiding and crush the life from you with his bare hands.”

Tallun was a seasoned pirate accustomed to idle threats from his victims.  He habitually paid them no mind, but there was something in the words of this woman that disturbed him.  He pondered that for a moment before realizing what it was.  She was not making an idle threat. This woman
believed
what she said.  She was convinced that this husband of hers was capable of crossing the sea and finding her.  A small bug of fear burrowed its way into Tallun’s brain.  It was an emotion that he was not entirely unfamiliar with.  He quickly turned away from the woman’s gaze and retreated up the stairs.

***

With considerable effort Toria was able to push Geraar’s kiss from her mind and concentrate on the task at hand.  The face of the granite wall looked smooth from below, but there were enough projections and cracks to allow her hands and feet to find purchase.  She reached a point in which she found a small outcropping that allowed her to place both feet and actually stand with her back to the wall.  Looking down she was a little shocked to see how small everyone below looked.  She estimated that she was now roughly halfway to the summit.

When she first began her climb there were no real problems to overcome.  The rock was dry and her hands were able to grip firmly.  She was confident that, even if her feet slipped, she could hold herself firmly with only her arms.  Now though, the wind had grown considerably stronger, and the moisture from the wind coated the rock making her handholds less secure. 

Toria took advantage of the secure footing to pull her water jug from her belt and refresh herself.  Remembering Pan she held the jug over her shoulder while the Mountain Child lapped his share.  She then replaced it on her belt and reached up to grab another handhold.

A squawk from Pan stopped her.  A telepathic injection of fear and caution surged into her brain.

“What’s the matter, Boy?” she asked.  “Something wrong?”

She had a quick vision of her hand slipping and her falling.  The image was unsettling and she stood still on the outcropping and got her rapid breathing under control.

“Okay Pan, I’ll try another one.”

Toria felt around and found another handhold just above the first one she’d found.  She pulled hard on it to test its strength then pulled herself upward.  When the first handhold was at eye level her blood chilled.  The projection was not part of the wall but was a large rock stuck inside a hole.  The moment she tried to pull herself up it would have come loose and sent her falling to her death.

“Thanks Pan.  I owe you one.”

The animal sent her another brief image, this one showing him also falling.  The message was clear; “You don’t owe me, it was my life on the line also.”

***

Below on the beach Geraar was sitting on the sand with his back against a coil of rope.  His eyes were on the figure of the girl far above him.  He heard someone sitting down beside him.

“How’s she doing?”

He turned to see Lyyl, Toria’s cousin sitting beside him.

He looked back up.  “She’s halfway up, but it looks like the wind is increasing the higher up she goes.  It will certainly make it more difficult.”  He turned again to look at Lyyl.  “Aren’t you worried?”

Lyyl returned his look and smiled.  “Of course I am, but I’ve known Toria all of her life.  She’s…well, special.  I’ve truly never seen anyone like her.  When she was five summers she was riding a charon.  I don’t mean she was sitting on a saddle with an adult.  She was reining it and trotting and galloping.  She has always looked for things she couldn’t do and then found a way to do them.”

Geraar looked back up at the tiny figure far above them.  “That may be true, but this is no charon ride.”

“True.  It is a daunting undertaking.  Let me tell you of an event that I recall.  I am only a few years older than she is, and our families would often get together.  We children would play ‘Find the Cur’ together, it was our favorite game.  Once I remember I was the Seeker and had just finished counting to twenty.  I quickly found every other player except Toria.  After searching every possible hiding place I was eventually forced to concede and called her in.  I heard laughing coming from above me.  I looked up, and she was all the way at the top of a Lanyard Tree.  To this day I don’t know how she climbed it so quickly.”

Geraar smiled.  The story was encouraging, and it soothed his worry somewhat.

Lyyl continued:  “There are over a thousand warriors here on this beach.  None of them are better prepared for this than she is.”  Lyyl smiled.  “I saw that kiss before she started.  Much fortune to you, Good Warrior.  A life with Toria will be one of many different adventures.  I pray you are a man of endless energy.”

Geraar stared at Toria’s cousin for a moment, prepared to disclaim any interest in sharing Toria’s future.  Then he sighed.  There was really no use in denying the obvious.

***

Toria hung with only one hand.  She had no place to put her feet.  The foothold she found a moment before had crumbled and dissolved leaving her legs dangling.  Pan had warned her, but she had seen no alternate route so she gambled.  Her shoulder now burned from supporting the weight of her entire body.  With her other hand she felt around frantically for a projection on which she could grab hold.  The rock was wet and slippery with no handholds yet found.

Fear started seeping into her mind.  Toria had spent her entire life being successful at overcoming obstacles.  It was how she lived her life.  Now, when a thousand people were depending on her she was at a point where she saw no possibility to succeed.

She peered upward.  She could see the top edge of the cliff.  It was only thirty feet above her now.  The twine tied to her belt had started out being so light that she never even felt its weight.  Now, with so much of it pulling down on her it felt like a ships hawser.  The burn in her shoulder was growing so much that the pain brought tears to her eyes.

***

Ruguer leaned in close to Minos speaking so softly that only his fellow king could hear.

“I noticed that Northland has contributed less food, people and materiel than Aspell or Archer’s Gate.  Since your kingdom encompasses more fertile farmland than the others I was…concerned.”

Minos tried his best to hold the other man’s gaze.  There was an intensity in his eyes that was difficult to endure.

“My dear Ruguer, the war has hit my kingdom hard.  The warriors we sent to help you represented a huge expenditure.  They had to be fed and supplied.  And paid.”

Ruguer continued his unblinking stare.  “And yet the other two Coastal Kingdoms both gave more to the effort and continue to do so.  Now, when Aspell is besieged by invaders from a strange land you send a mere thousand to aid them?”

Minos was sweating now, but he resisted the urge to wipe his brow.  “Well, you must understand…”

Ruguer interrupted him.  ‘I understand Minos.  I understand more than you think I understand.  I see gilded bannisters and marble walls.  I see ridiculous and expensive uniforms for your personal guards.  I dare say that your storehouses are full while we struggle to feed our people.  We struggle because our farms and ranches were destroyed by the invading Grey Ones from which we protected your kingdom. 

“The Valley of Olvion is still wet from the blood of our warriors who fought to protect you and your kingdom, and yet now you sit here offering weak excuses for your actions.”

Portus was standing just out of hearing distance, but he could read the faces of the two men.  He stepped up on the platform with his hand on his sword pommel.

“Do you require my assistance, Majesty?” he asked.

Ruguer slowly turned his head to regard the Sword of the King.  “You have the space of one heartbeat in which to take your hand from your sword.”

Portus looked to his king for guidance.  The time he spent on that action was more than the space of a heartbeat.  Ruguer exploded from his chair and backhanded the man.  The speed and power of the strike propelled the king’s man backward off of the platform and onto the polished floor where he slid for several feet before impacting against a table.

All around the throne room the guards in their colorful costumes drew weapons and started forward.  Ruguer’s bodyguard all did the same.

“Stop!”  Minos stared agape at Ruguer where he still stood.  The King of Northland had heard stories of Ruguer’s abilities but had always assumed them to be exaggerated. The attack on his Sword, however, had been unbelievably swift and powerful.  What was more disturbing was that the action was legal.  By the law of the four kingdoms no man was justified in threatening any king whether it be by word or action.  When Portus placed his hand on his sword he presented a threat.

Minos looked to where Portus was trying to get up off of the floor.  He was still reeling from the effects of the backhanded blow.  Minos wondered what shape he would be in had the King of Olvion struck him with his fist.

“Stop this now,” Minos ordered his people.  He looked to Ruguer who was still glowering at Portus, daring the man to react.  “My dear Ruguer, please take your seat.  We have much to discuss.  Portus, you will apologize to King Ruguer immediately.”

Ruguer shook his head.  “I have heard enough and seen enough.  I am invoking The Law of the Kingdoms to demand a hearing in front of your parliament.  Today!  My people and I will take food and refreshment while you gather your members.  Have one of your ridiculously dressed guards lead us to a dining facility then send for us when the members are ready.”  He turned and pointed to Portus who had finally managed to regain his feet. A welt was forming on his jaw.  “And keep that man out of my sight if you want him to continue living.”

Minos, still shocked, pointed to one of his personal guards who led the Olvionis out of the throne room and to a nearby eating facility.

***

Toria felt Pan on her back.  He was scrambling around back there, obviously doing something.  She willed him to stop.  The activity was distracting her when she needed all of her powers of concentration.

She heard a soft trill coming from him.  It repeated several times.  It was a pleasant sound.  She listened to it with her eyes closed.  It soothed her.  Feelings of calmness and confidence flooded her mind.  She knew that Pan was feeding her what she needed.

The activity that was going on behind her continued for a moment longer.  Then something changed.  The weight of the twine was released from her belt.  She briefly panicked, thinking that Pan had untied the twine in order to lighten her load.  The release definitely was helpful, but the twine was the entire reason for the climb.  Without it the rope could not be pulled up and secured giving the others a safer method of ascending the cliff face.

Still more weight was removed from her back, and she heard the scrabble of claws on rock.  Then Pan was beside her.  The twine was held firmly in his teeth.  He squeaked three times then quickly scrambled the rest of the way up the rock.

With the weight of the twine and Pan both removed Toria felt a burst of confidence.  She looked above her and saw a small projection of rock above her free hand.  It was too high to reach, but if she could swing herself it was just possible that she snag it.  With the pain in her shoulder now radiating through her back she knew she would only have one chance.  Gritting her teeth she began to swing her body, first left, then right.  Each time she saw the little clump of protruding rock get a little closer.  Finally, just before the muscles of her other shoulder and arm gave out she let go and let the momentum of her swing propel her upward.  For a heartbeat she was flying through the air.  Then she grabbed at the rock and held on for her life.  The sharp edges bit into her hand and blood flowed, but she now had a solid grasp with the rested hand and arm.  Her legs flailed around, and she found a place to put her right foot.  Then one for the left foot.  With the pressure finally off of her arms she took a full ten minutes to rest and regain her strength.