The Wanderers of the Water-Realm (59 page)

Moments later, the bow of the narrowboat tore through the light timber-works of the passenger barge flinging most of its occupants into the water. The sailing master immediately ordered the narrowboat’s crew to cast lines over the side and to save as many of the unfortunate vessel’s compliment as possible, before they were all swept to their deaths by the current of the Life River.

A score of bedraggled figures were pulled from the water and lay coughing upon the deck and Myra quickly moved amongst them administering draughts of a restorative cordial and tending the survivors who had sustained injuries in the course of the collision.

Darryl noticed at once that some of the survivors where undoubtedly persons of quality for their few remaining garments were made from the finest fabric available, but he was also disturbed to see them sporting the elongated eyes of the native Kaa. However, there was little time for speculation for the towing galley had by now come about and it proceeded to manoeuvre carefully until its stern was in close proximity to the narrowboat’s bows.

A line was cast from the galley and it was quite obvious that the vessel wished to take them in tow. But Darryl was uncertain of his best course of action and he hesitated before giving the order for the line to be secured. His mind, however, was made up by one of the survivors who staggered to his feet and confronted the young boatmaster.

“My name is Creon of the house of Klee and I am a senator in the court of the First Tribune. I ask you to allow our galley to take you in tow and to deliver myself and the other survivors to a quay that is nearby on the western shore!”

He clasped a talisman that hung from his neck by a copper chain.

“I swear that I will not harm any of you and that your craft will be allowed to go on its way in peace upon the morrow!”

Darryl nodded and gave orders for the towing line to be secured, but his sister laid a hand upon his arm.

“This is not wise brother!” She said. “My witch’s intuition tells me that yonder nobleman intends to trick us.”

“That’s my feeling also.” Darryl replied. “But if you look carefully you’ll see that yon galley is full of armed men and I spotted a loaded catapult on her bows as she came about. We cannot put a knife to the throat of a great Imperial nobleman and hold him hostage, whilst we are still deep in Kaa-Rom territory, so I feel that we should do as the man says and hope for the best.”

The witch reluctantly agreed with her brother’s logic, but a deep feeling of foreboding still clouded her mind as she turned and walked away.

Dawn was breaking as the narrowboat came to its mooring at the small river quay serving the landed estate of Creon of Klee. The nobleman was seated amongst the other survivors who were also recovering from their ordeal and the three travellers were able to gain their first clear view of their unexpected guest.

The senator was extremely tall for an inhabitant of the Water-Realm and he stood a good six Earth feet in height. His body was strong and well muscled due to a strenuous regime of physical exercise, but his features were thin and angular and the newcomers were disturbed by the lines of cruelty rigidly etched into the man’s face.

The nobleman stood up and approached the newly rigged gangway with the obvious intention of disembarking from the craft, when he suddenly turned and faced the three travellers.

“Come a shore all of you!” He said in a voice that was more of a command than an invitation “Come and enjoy my hospitality for the remainder of the day. Food will be brought to the quay for the enjoyment of your crew, whilst you three travellers visit the Villa of Klee and enjoy many of the comforts that it has to offer.”

“We thank you for you kind offer.” Darryl replied. “But our vessel is on charter to the Dark Priests and we must resume our journey without further delay.”

“No, no!” Creon insisted. “You must rest yourselves adequately before you depart; your journey will be all the swifter as a result!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Darryl noticed that soldiers from the galley were closing in around them and he could see no alternative but to go along with the nobleman’s intentions and hope for the best.

“Go and prepare yourselves!” He whispered to his sister and the giant boat hand.

“Pack the most needful of our artefacts in your travelling packs and we shall be fully armed and protected when we depart. This we shall explain as being a custom amongst the Northland folk.”

The boatmaster also turned to Wilakin who stood at his side and instructed him to cut the narrowboat loose from its mooring and attempt to reach the nearest of the priests maintenance depots, should the three newcomers fail to return from Creon’s villa by the next darkening.

The travellers were armed and protected by their padded battle gear when they boarded the slave-hauled carriage that was to convey them to the nobleman’s villa.

George fingered the long handled axe that he held between his knees, whilst Darryl had loosened the sword ‘Kingslayer’ in its scabbard. Myra, however, remained deeply worried, for her inner-eye warned her that a long period of danger and suffering lay ahead of them.

The carriage rocked and swayed along a stone paved road for a short period of time and came to a halt in the courtyard of an extensive range of single storied buildings occupying the entire side of a low hill.

The newcomers were greeted by an old man who was dressed in a white toga and appeared to be the bailiff of the establishment. The man led the trio through a spacious colonnade and into a wide atrium that was surrounded by a number of rooms. The bailiff opened one of the doors and ushered them into a comfortable day-room and he bade them rest until it was time to attend a banquet that was being prepared in their honour. He then bowed his way out of the room and promised to return for them at the appointed hour.

The trio took their rest upon sumptuously upholstered couches and even enjoyed a period of fitful sleep due the exertions of the previous night. Several hours had elapsed before the white-robed retainer arrived to conduct them to the celebratory banquet.

The bailiff led them through a number of ante-chambers, whose walls were decorated with elaborate wall paintings and into a lofty dining hall lit by torches burning in cressets fixed high upon the walls.

A long wooden table occupied the centre of the hall and it was laden with every conceivable type of delicacy available in the Water-Realm.

Creon sat at the head of the table accompanied by a woman whose sallow complexion suggested that she was far from being in the best of health and Myra instantly noticed that she was the only person in the room who failed to sport the elongated eyes and the extended lashes of the native Kaa.

About forty other individuals occupied the long sides of the table and three empty chairs stood at the far end directly facing the nobleman and his escort.

Creon pointed towards the vacant chairs.

“Be seated my friends.” He said. “Before we begin enjoying the victuals that are set before us, I will take the opportunity of introducing you to my wife Livia, who, as you have probably noticed, is not in the best of health, due to the birth of our son, an otherwise happy event that took place some thirty darkenings ago. The others who dine at my table are kinsmen and retainers who are sworn to my service.”

Creon then stood up and raised his arms above his head.

“I call upon Kaa, God of the Kaa!” he shouted out in a loud voice. “To bear witness to our feast and to grant us luck and good fortune until we meet again at this table!”

The senator had hardly finished uttering his prayer before the entire gathering fell upon the piles of food like starving animals. Exquisite delicacies were thrust into gaping mouths and swilled down gluttonous throats by tankards of strong Thoa-nut beer carried to the table by relays of female slaves.

The heaps of food quickly disappeared and the slave girls cleared away the remnants before returning with small dishes filled with sweet red berries, which, Creon explained, came from the slopes of the western mountains and were delivered to Deva by relays of swift runners. The berries were quickly despatched and yet more tankards of beer were served to the diners along with bowls of perfumed water and napkins, which they used to wash the residue of the feast from their faces and hands.

Suddenly, a hush fell over the gathering as a number of burly slaves entered the hall bearing wooden platters with the contents hidden from view by thick red coverlets. The nobleman rose to his feet as the platters were placed upon the long table and the hint of a smile crossed his features.

He turned and faced the newcomers.

“My friends!” He said, allowing his gaze to sweep over the entire gathering.

“I have a special present for our guests.” And he nodded towards the male slaves who immediately swept away the red coverings and exposed the severed and bleeding heads of the crew of the ‘Bonny Barbara.’

The three travellers gasped in horror and their hands instinctively sped towards their weapons, but at the very same instant, they each felt the prick of a dagger upon the nape of their necks and they were curtly ordered to remain still by the armed guards who now stood directly behind them. Moments later, the newcomer’s arms were securely fastened behind their backs with stout cords rendering them quite helpless.

Creon took a long draught of strong beer from his tankard.

“Did you enjoy your reunion with your friends?” He asked his features twisted with cruel pleasure. “They were fortunate and died swiftly, but you three may not!”

“Tell me!” He continued, “Were you all stupid enough to expect me to forgive you for running down my personal barge and drowning my maternal uncle and two of my cousins? Can you really have believed that I would not have sought revenge for the deaths of my other retainers who manned the barge?”

Myra was the first of the travellers to reply to the senator’s tirade.

“You are a fool Creon. You have placed hands upon the servants of the Dark Priests.

You will certainly be punished for this sacrilege and you may well die from the shaking death before this present cycle has elapsed.”

Creon made a sign with his left hand and a guard who stood closest to the young wisewoman struck her heavily across the face.

“Foolish woman, am I so stupid as to incur the wrath of the dark order? I can assure you; those meddling priests will learn nothing of this incident. The soldiers who executed your crewmen also sent your craft of the bottom of the Life River with a great rent in its stern. Many craft, together with their crews, have disappeared forever beneath the waters of the river and even if the overseers find your boat and salvage it, then it will have all the appearances of being crushed and sunk by a larger vessel such as a Stone-carrier.”

Creon then turned his attention to the former boatmaster.

“I must give you my thanks for the large quantity of copper that we discovered inside the secret compartment within the bows of your craft. It will be melted down into bullion and make a splendid addition to my fortune.”

He paused and the cruel twist of his lip became even more pronounced.

“Now, you pair of Northland warriors, the time is drawing near when you shall both die in a manner affording my friends a little after-dinner entertainment. Meanwhile, this priestess of Dumtek will tend my wife’s ailments and I may be tempted to spare her life, if her skills prove to be useful!”

He slammed his empty tankard down upon the hard surface of the table.

“Guards!” He shouted. “Do your duty and convey the two male prisoners to the death pit.”

The guards dragged Darryl and the giant boat hand out of the hall and down a long flight of stone steps taking the pair well below the foundations of the villa and into a circular chamber containing several rows of upholstered seats. In the centre of the chamber was a rectangular pit some fifteen Earth feet in depth. The pit was a good twenty paces in width and about forty paces from end to end. Two short flights of steps gave access to the pit at either end and each of the stairways was closed off at the bottom by a stout iron portcullis that could raised and lowered by means of two small winding engines.