Dark Lightning (12 page)

Perhaps the people were waiting for their prince to lead it, he thought. He had enough confidence and now he had enough motivation. Once his father’s harsh regime was brought to an end he could introduce reform. Like his mother he was popular with the people. They would not harm him.

He thought out loud. ‘I could take you for my wife, Jynx. Nobody would dare touch you then.’

She giggled, but nervously, not taking him seriously. ‘I don’t think I’d make a suitable Princess of Arles since I’m always in trouble. I’d miss the freedom of being myself, of running through the grass in bare feet and of swimming almost naked in the lake at the High Place. I loved it when we were traveling with Hal and Orish in the wilderness and sleeping under the stars. The sky is like a cavern with no beginning and no end, yet everything moves. It’s so beautiful and mystic. Orish knows everything there is to know, and he has taught much of it to Hal who has passed on his knowledge of the wonders of the world. He says he is looking for a way across the rift, and when he finds it he will explore it and he’ll take me there.’

‘You’re the one who is so beautiful, my sweet friend. Be careful, Jynx, for you are listed high in my affection. I must go now.’

Something caught Laek’s eye as the water rippled across her reflection.

Tighe immediately joined him, his senses so on the alert that his nose almost twitched. ‘Do you see it, Laek?’

‘Aye. Is it what I think it is?’ he said, hoping his blood father was not going to put in another dramatic appearance.

Tighe’s eyes were sharp. ‘That it is. It’s the winged beast of legend.’

Before Laek’s eyes Tighe changed and flew up into the sky on his peregrine wings. High he went, and higher still, until he floated in the air currents circling the creature.

Across the moon the winged creature drifted. Guided by Tighe it began to gracefully and silently circle, and then came nearer.

Jon and Iago woke and hurriedly notched arrows into their bows. Effortlessly, the landflight zoomed up out of range.

‘Come,’ Laek called to it. ‘None will hurt you. Disarm your bows, you two.’

The landflight alighted on the ledge and folded its magnificent wings into its side. It was a glossy black. There was a naked figure of a man sprawled, face down, on its back, one hand tangled in the flight’s mane and the other bunched into a fist. The flight gave a soft trill.

Tighe came out from the cave changed into human form again.

The man was powerfully built, and had dark, unruly hair. They lifted him down and laid him gently on one of the beds.

Tighe examined him. ‘There is a wound in his side, but he’s got burns on his body and that has cauterized it. My guess is that he’s been in the fire mountains.’

It seemed to Laek as though he knew the man – that they were connected. ‘Is he dead?’

‘No, his heart’s beating strongly, but he’s exhausted. Fetch me the medicine pack. Do we have some clothing to fit him?’

‘He can have my cloak,’ Iago offered.

Jon smiled. ‘I have a spare pair of breeches that should fit him.’

Tighe’s fastidious nose twitched. ‘I’ll find him something better than those rags. And I’ll treat his burns with arraroot gell. They’re not deep, and should heal quickly and easily. Open his hand Laek, he has something clutched in it.’

Laek prised open his fist, and withdrew a jade amulet, fashioned in the shape of a peregrine. It was similar to the one Jynx had given him. He noticed the familiarity about the man again as he placed the talisman back around his neck so it wouldn’t be lost, thinking, was this the legendary Falcon – his uncle?

As always, when Tighe read his thoughts, Laek was disconcerted when his friend murmured, ‘I think you’re right.’

The stranger opened his eyes and gazed at him. They were a brilliant blue, like his mother’s – like his own. It
was
him! It had to be. Yet he could hardly believe it.

‘Tell me your name,’ Laek whispered, already knowing the answer.

‘I’m Falcon Darkwater, Lord of Karshal. And you?’

 His senses went on alert, and then he realized that Falcon would never have heard of him if he’d just been made conscious of who he was in his man state. ‘I am Laek, Prince of Arles, son of Azarine and ...’ He shrugged, feeling self-conscious.  

Go on, be arrogant and say it, I know you’re dying to, Kavan’s voice prodded.

 Laek gave a bit of a grin. If this man could claim kinship to Lord Sabarin, he could do the same with his newly discovered ancestor, who was far more esteemed in history as a warrior, a mathmetician and a ruler. ‘My blood father is the great Lord Kavan himself, or so I’m given to understand.’ The latter was said with as much humbleness as his pride could muster up, something hard to achieve now he knew his gene mix.’

‘This is not a contest on who has the finest pedigree,’ Tighe said with some asperity. ‘Shake hands and get the introduction over with.’

Falcon grinned widely at that. ‘We should be foes, but we’re not. Azarine has made sure of that.’

The pair clasped arms in recognition of their kinship and Laek murmured, ‘So if we cannot be foes we must be friends and comrades.’ And he recognized at that moment that he wasn’t as grand or important as he’d previously thought.

 This man, Falcon Darkwater, had so much presence and power about him that it was obvious to all of them that he was the leader the people were waiting for.

* * * *

Just before dawn Iago roused them. He looked pleased with himself. Two of the commanders had arrived. Seeing their stealthy approach Iago had trussed them up and gagged them. Of the landflight there was no sign.

Tighe and Jon exchanged a grin at the sight of their commanders at such a disadvantage.

Iago looked embarrassed. ‘Sorry, it was dark and I couldn’t see their faces. They didn’t announce themselves just crept through the bushes like a couple of thieves ... so I pounced on them and cracked their heads together.’

The commanders poured down scorn, curses and threats on Iago when the gags were removed.

Setting them free, Laek told them, ‘You should have announced yourselves as blue bloods. Iago should be awarded extra credits for the capture. You might have been spies.’

‘I can’t think of any reason why someone would want to spy on you.’ He slapped Iago on the back and exchanged a sheepish glance with the other commander at being caught out. ‘It seems that we trained them too well. Well done Iago.’

The foursome fell quiet and gazed at each other.

‘No need to look so worried.’ The commander slapped Iago on the back and laughed. ‘Prince Laek is right ... well done, Iago. No hard feelings, and it won’t go against you ... unless it gets round, of course, then I’ll hang you from the highest tree by your manly bits.’

The ribald comment made them all laugh and eased the tension.

‘It’s time to break camp,’ the other commander said. ‘The trimarine is waiting and we’re to set sail along the coast for the port of Alba.’

When Falcon Darkwater came up behind Laek the commanders gazed at him with suspicion. Who’s this?’’

Laek moved to his uncle’s side. ‘This is the reason someone might have wanted to spy on us. May I introduce Falcon Darkwater, Lord of Karshal.’

The commanders bowed their heads. ‘Welcome to Soran Lord of Karshal. We expected your arrival, but didn’t know when. We thought you’d come at night, but by boat, and would make your presence known to the commanders’ quarters.’

‘I was injured, and was carried here by a landflight, who sensed the presence of my close kin. These troopers saved my life. I commend you on their training.’

Laek tried not to laugh at this bit of exaggeration to soothe the commanders’ ruffled feelings. His uncle seemed to be a diplomat rather than a warrior.  

‘Now you are here we go to join lady Azarine in the forest.’

‘What of the final battle with the Belia troopers? Will we not now be awarded our insignia?’ Jon said, clearly disappointed, because they’d all been looking forward to crossing swords with the brutal Desii, and proving their superiority over Penn’s sons.

‘You’re true-bloods and you have no use for Cynan’s insignia, only Falcon Darkwater’s. Here are your cloaks. Those of you who haven’t been sent back to Arles are the true-blood force and can consider yourselves the very elite of the recruits. The four of you have been outstanding. You’re awarded the title of commander, and with every honor available attached.’ One of the commanders threw them a black cloak apiece, with a silver badge of a peregrine attached to it. ‘There is a bar to signify your rank. Wear them with pride, Commanders.’

To Falcon Darkwater they said, ‘Lady Azarine waits to greet you, Lord. We know it would warm her heart if you were to arrive with her son at your side. Are you fit to travel?’

Falcon’s burns had healed overnight. Tighe’s gift of black leather breeches and jerkin, to be worn over a soft blue tunic fit Falcon like a glove, as did the boots. A cloak of fine wool swirled around his ankles.

They broke camp as swiftly as possible and headed for the trimarine, where a general push and shove was taking place. The noise gradually abated, and the new troopers gazed at them in hushed expectation and with great reverence ... Laek, Jon and Iago flanked the Lord whose insignia they wore with such pride.

Laek stood side by side with his uncle when the introduction and vows of allegiances were made ... after all, as the Prince of Arles he could only be his uncle’s equal.

‘Where’s Tighe?’ Jon whispered as they neared the boat.

There was a soft draft and the passing of a shadow. A bird settled on Jon’s shoulder and trilled gently into his ear.

Laek laughed. ‘I guess he’s in an unsociable mood.’

Iago stroked the bird’s head and grinned. ‘I always knew he was a bird brain.’

The bird’s ruffled its feathers, and he pecked Iago’s finger, drawing blood. Crapping on Jon’s shoulder he flew up to perch on top of the mast. There, he sank into his feathers and gazed fiercely down over the assembly of true-bloods, looking as though he’d rather be anywhere than on the ship. 

‘Laek’s mother should be here to welcome our son’s triumphant return. Why hasn’t she been found?’ Cynan said to Penn.

‘The trackers couldn’t find the remains of any temple of note, just a few tumbled stones here and there. It must have sunk beneath the surface again.’

‘Or it was never there in the first place. One of the trackers wandered into the area where the High Place is supposed to be. He has not returned.’

Cynan nodded. ‘The place is dangerous and the ground unstable there. He may have joined the rebels. If he does return, hang him.’

Penn cautioned, ‘We need all the trained troopers we can get if we’re to quell the uprising, so I will question him first.’ He shaded his eyes with his hands saying proudly, while Cynan seethed, ‘I can see my sons, Kadar and Grise. They are carrying the trophy between them.’

Annoyed by the news Cynan silently cursed. He’d made it clear to the commanders that Laek was to be rewarded with it, and the man had disobeyed him. He must talk to the lad when he came home. From what he’d heard his son did not suffer from a lack of fighting skills. In fact, he’d earned distinctions and was considered one of the elite. ‘Where is the third trimarine?’

‘It will arrive tomorrow, and I expect your lady will arrive home in time to greet her son. Soran is a day’s sail away from the other two islands if you recall. I’m going down to meet my sons, to congratulate them. Will you not come with me, Cynan? It would mean much to them.’

A small crowd had gathered at the harbor. Kadar and Grise stepped ashore. They were large and mean-eyed. A raggedly, unenthusiastic cheer went up when they held the trophy aloft.

When Cynan congratulated them on winning the trophy the pair exchanged a smirk. Penn looked smug. Bitter gall rose in Cynan’s throat as he remembered his own rivalry with Penn when they’d been youths. His brother had won the trophy by a fraction of a point for his tracking skills. They had come to blows over it and he’d nearly beaten Penn to a pulp before two commanders had dared to interfere and put a stop to it.

The new troopers lined up now, and they were a far cry from the shambling youths who’d embarked on their training three seasons ago.

Penn’s sons were part of the new batch of three commanders. No doubt they’d like to become his personal guard, so they could keep Penn informed of his business. They were going to be disappointed.

 Cynan beckoned the other one forward. He was large and tautly muscled. ‘What is your name?’

He bowed. ‘Desii, my lord.’

‘What’s your record?’

‘I won a silver star for my skills with the blade.’

 That would do. ‘Do you know my son, Laek?’

‘We were on Soran together, but in different groups.’

‘Laek’s group didn’t turn up for the final battle,’ Kadar informed him.

Grise’s laughter had a sharp, mocking edge to it. ‘Perhaps he didn’t want to spoil his pretty Karshal face.’

A roar of laughter went up from the other troopers from the ship.

Desii pulled on an unctuous smile. ‘The prince and his group didn’t need to turn up. They’d already been graded as the outstanding recruits and awarded the rank of commander. Iago said he and Jon were trained with Laek from the cradle, and under Lord Cynan’s tutelage.’

Cynan nodded, trying to remain impervious to Grise’s provocation as well as Desii’s flattery. ‘I need to appoint two personal bodyguards ... someone I can trust. Will you take on the task, Desii?’ Not that he was in the position to refuse. And he could always get rid of him when Laek, Jon and Iago returned to fill the positions.

The new trooper’s eyes gleamed. ‘Yes, my lord.’

Cynan had the satisfaction of seeing the affront suffuse Penn’s face with a mottled red stain. ‘But Cynan, we have discussed this appointment and decided––’

‘You decided, Penn. I have been thinking it over. If a rebellion arises, and I’m not convinced that one won’t, we’ll need good commanders in the field. Your sons will get some much needed battle craft, hunting down the outlaws. Mock battles are a far cry from the real thing. After all, they did win the trophy.’