Ebudae (6 page)

Dralin was built above the ruins of cities
long gone and it was still possible to travel in some sections of
them. A sliver of fear shot down his spine when Frath realized he
was walking through the dark streets of those ruins. There was no
way in his current condition that he would be able to fend off the
horrifying creatures that dwelled in the crumbling buildings. He
concentrated on forcing one foot in front of the other and hoped
the shadows would protect him.

Frath didn’t know how much time had passed
when he tripped on a step and fell to his knees. The pain brought
him out of the fog for a moment as he yelled. His eyes focused on
purple-flamed candles lining the sides of the steps. Etched into
each step was the familiar image of a crow, letting Frath knew he
was at his destination.

Somehow finding strength, Frath began up the
steps. It seemed like an eternity before he reached the basement of
the church. Shadows dancing in the candlelight guided him to a pile
of cloths. Frath tried his best to set the body down gently on
them, but did so roughly, eliciting a weak cry of suffering from
the man.

“Well, at least you’re still alive.” Frath
pulled the pack off his shoulder and dropped it down by the sheets.
Then he stood and staggered to the side from disorientation. The
shadows braced him as he stumbled a few steps. He went to the
stairwell heading up to the church and forced his feet to
climb.

He was at the cowled statue of Distra, not
remembering the rest of the walk up the steps to get there. “I hope
he’s important,” Frath told her as he fell to his knees from
exhaustion, not worship.

The cowled head lifted and the eyes began to
glow purple. “He is,” the goddess whispered. Purple candles
guttered as a chill breeze flowed through the church with the
words. Distra entered Frath’s mind and he felt the pain begin to
disappear as she stroked his skin from the inside out. Shadows
lowered him to the ground as he lost consciousness.

Chapter
4

The late afternoon sun had wilted the two
young women. They were vainly trying to find shade in between the
crowded tents after having sat in the sun for the last two hours
while watching a play.

“You pretty ladies need shade?” a giant man
asked, looming over them from behind. He was so large that he
provided shade for both of them.

Ebudae hid behind Pelya, suddenly afraid.
“No thank you.” The fact that she could blast him with a variety of
spells left her mind as she stared at the seven-foot giant. Not
only was he tall, but muscles bulged from every part of his body,
even his chiseled face.

“Hello. What’s your name?” Pelya asked the
giant man.

“Pelya,” Ebudae hissed. “Don’t talk to
him.”

“Lizor is my name.” He flexed his muscles.
There was no shirt to cover his shaven chest and he wore leather
shorts that showed off more muscles in his enormous thighs. His
mouth had lopsided teeth and green eyes gazed lovingly at a bicep.
He had a falsetto voice that didn’t fit his body. “You don’t want
shade?”

“We
do
want shade, Lizor, but this is
a dangerous place for girls like us. How do we know you’re not
going to kidnap us?” Pelya asked, placing a hand on the man’s other
arm. Her boldness shocked Ebudae.

“Lizor isn’t going to kidnap you. Lizor is
going to keep pretty ladies safe.” He flexed the muscles in his
chest, making them do a dance. “Come join us. The tent is nice and
cool.”

“What tent, Lizor and who else is there?”
Pelya asked cautiously. Ebudae approved of the caution.

“It’s our tent. Me, Aphry, Glav and Juggles.
We perform almost every day, but not today. Come sit in the cool
tent. It’s shady.” He stared at the bicep again and made the muscle
bounce up and down.

To Ebudae’s surprise and dismay, Pelya
agreed. “That sounds wonderful. We need to get out of the sun
before we melt.” She held onto Lizor’s arm and let the big man
lead. Ebudae froze where she stood for a moment before scurrying
after them so as not to be alone while surrounded by so many
people.

The day had started out wonderfully. She and
Pelya bought sweet treats, watched a dramatic performance about
wizardry that Ebudae had loved, had exotic foods from other lands,
and wandered around Carnival to watch performers of all types.

Problems began when people bumped into
Ebudae repeatedly. It was easy to be brave all alone in her room
surrounded by books, but with so many people shifting back and
forth chaotically, it was impossible to concentrate. She had a
desperate urge to lash out with magical fire to get them to back
off.

Her head hurt from the cacophony of noise
created by people in constant motion. The odors of unwashed bodies
and the scents of food were made heavier by the heat, weighing on
Ebudae’s shoulders until she felt low to the ground. She began
hanging more and more onto Pelya for support.

As they walked forward with the scary giant,
she grabbed her friend’s belt and followed timidly behind. Ebudae
was at the point where she wanted to go home and never leave again.
Crowds were the worst thing she had ever experienced.

“So what sort of performance do you do,
Lizor?” Pelya asked. She knew Ebudae was holding onto her belt and
had already said it didn’t bother her. Pelya had the ability to
handle masses of people bumping into her, so she did her best to
protect Ebudae.

“Lizor lifts and bashes things because Lizor
is the strongest man in the world!” He smacked his fist into his
chest to emphasize the point. The good news was that people were
giving him as wide a berth as possible.

“I can see that!” Pelya said in tones that
matched his. Ebudae had been noticing that her friend adjusted her
speech to become similar to whomever she was speaking to. “What do
the others do?”

“Aphry is the boss. She’s pretty and
everybody loves when she dances. Glav plays instruments, sings and
talks to the audience. He’s funny and everybody listens to him
because he knows everything. Juggles juggles.” Lizor grinned
happily. “They’re my best friends and we take care of each other.
Our tent is nice and cool too,” he said, in case they had missed
the first few times he said it.

“Will they be upset if we show up?” Pelya
asked

“Oh no. You’re pretty ladies and very nice.
They’ll like you. Lizor likes you.” He flexed his chest muscles
again.

“Is this wise?” Ebudae whispered in Pelya’s
ear opposite from the big man. “It could be a trap and I’m not sure
him liking you is a good thing.”

Pelya turned her head toward Ebudae and
whispered back. “We need to get out of the sun. He’s harmless.
Trust me on this one.”

Ebudae looked at Lizor dubiously. The giant
looked anything
but
harmless. She was sure the muscles on
his fingers were bigger than her arms and he might squish her like
a bug.

Carnival had numerous courtyards surrounded
by stages, each of which had a tent for its performers. There was
usually a statue or fountain in the center and benches surrounding
it for audiences to sit. Each troupe of performers would take turns
throughout the day and night so as not to interfere with each
other. Carnival managers sold the time slots and handled any
disputes.

It was to one of those courtyards that Lizor
took them. People wilting in the heat were sitting on a few of the
benches, fanning themselves in vain attempts to get cool. There was
a show with a decent audience at the far end, but afternoon in the
summertime was one of the worst time slots for Carnies to have.

“And this is our home,” Lizor said with a
wide sweep of his arm at a large green and red checkered tent. The
wooden stage in front was wide with tall, canvas paintings of
countrysides used as a backing. Lizor led them past the stage into
a walkway between his tent and the one next to it. A flap in the
middle served as an entrance. He used that to step inside, leaving
the girls to follow. Pelya looked back and shrugged. Ebudae stared
at her fearfully. It was a fact that every woman in Dralin got
kidnapped, at least that was the way it seemed from all the stories
her grandmother had told her.

The only reason she went in was because she
refused to let go of Pelya’s belt. Then she felt the cool air and
decided that perhaps being kidnapped wouldn’t be so bad if she
didn’t have to go back into the heat.

The tent was a riot of colors inside. There
were carpets and mats on the floor with countless pillows for
sleeping and eating. Small paintings and tapestries hung from the
canvas walls. Two wooden poles held the tent up, with the middle
just high enough for Lizor to stand without touching his head. To
the right were three people around an ornate hookah with a
porcelain bottom. Smoke bubbled out the top of it.

“Lizor, who did you bring?” A woman
gracefully rose to her feet and stepped forward. Her auburn hair
flowed in waves down her back. She outlined her dark-green eyes
with black makeup and colored her lids with green eye shadow, while
bright-red lipstick covered full lips. Piercings dotted her ears,
one eyebrow and the right side of the upper lip. But the most
striking feature was a tattoo of thin green scrollwork along her
left jaw from the chin all the way to where it wrapped around her
ear. She wore a tight yellow blouse and black leggings. She was one
of the most beautiful women Ebudae had ever seen.

“Lizor has brought pretty ladies who need
shade.” He gestured grandly at the girls and then became distracted
by his biceps, which he began flexing.

“We’ve talked about this, Lizor. The pretty
ladies might be nice to you every once in a while, but they won’t
want to marry you or be your girlfriend,” the woman admonished.

That didn’t make Ebudae feel any better
about entering the tent. She didn’t want to be
anyone’s
wife
or girlfriend at the moment, let alone the brute’s.

“I know. They don’t think Lizor sexy even
with all of his magnificent muscles. But these pretty ladies are
nice and they need shade.”

“Alright, Lizor,” the woman said. She turned
to Pelya and Ebudae. “Hello. I’m Aphry. If you’re not intent on
harming anyone, then you’re welcome to join us for a short
while.”

Ebudae had decided earlier to let Pelya do
all the talking. It would be easier that way. Her warrior friend
obliged. “My name is Pelya and this is Ebudae. We have no intention
of harming anyone.” She gestured toward Lizor who was next to her.
“Lizor has been wonderful and we greatly appreciate everything. As
soon as we cool off a bit, we’ll be out of your hair.”

A blonde man with thick beard and mustache
spoke in a ringing voice that filled the tent. Ebudae felt herself
drawn to it as though compelled to listen. “Pelya. That’s an
unusual name.” He tilted his head in thought and picked on a string
of a well-used lute in his lap. “There’s a girl by that name who’s
being raised in the City Guard. I’ve never heard of it otherwise.”
Ebudae looked for any sign of a spell or charm, but when the
colorfully dressed man spoke, it became clear that he drew
attention to himself through charisma.

Aphry raised an eyebrow. “Are you her?”

Ebudae felt Pelya’s muscles tighten, but her
friend answered anyway. “I am. My father does the best he can and
I’ll suffer the heat outside if you speak ill of him.” Ebudae
noticed that Pelya became more defensive of her father with each
passing year and knew the condemnation of strangers had been
getting to her friend.

The reaction surprised their hosts. “Peace.
It is not my intention to speak ill of him or anyone,” Aphry said
in a calm voice. “Join us. We have food, wine and smoke if you
will.”

“Yes.” The word that came out of her mouth
surprised Ebudae, but the performers didn’t seem like sinister
criminals intent on doing them harm. They were interesting and in
spite of her reclusiveness, Ebudae desperately wanted friends.

Pelya smiled at Ebudae over her shoulder and
then looked back at the others. “Yes. We’d love to join you.”

They sat on soft, colorful pillows around
the hookah. Pelya was on Ebudae’s left and a baldheaded man with
tattoos covering his head was on her right. When offered the
smoking tube, both girls refused. Numerous things could be smoked
from one, some legal and others not. They were common in most
houses throughout Dralin and most large cities in the world of
Ryallon. Ebudae hated them. Her grandmother had made her smoke the
rare times company had come over and it was foul. It also made her
mind foggy, a feeling Ebudae despised.

They did accept the offered wine in addition
to grabbing apricots. Both young women were accustomed to wine,
because it was a common drink for most occasions. Normally, they
were only allowed small amounts, such as a glass with dinner, so as
not to become intoxicated.

“It’s interesting to hear you defend your
father. Mine beat me and I’d not defend his name for anything.” The
minstrel struck a sour chord as he spoke. “Pardon, so rude of me,
my name is Glav.” He flashed brilliant white teeth at them. A
piercing decorated one of his eyebrows and rows of earrings
travelled the outside of his ear from lobe to top. Tattoos peaked
out from the collar and sleeves of his shirt.

Ebudae admitted to herself that he was very
handsome, a fact that made her distrust the man. Her mother had run
away with a handsome, charismatic man or so grandmother had
said.

“It happens to be my job to play songs for
my partner, tell people how brilliant my companions are and then,
perhaps, to elicit a laugh or two.” Glav’s long fingers constantly
brushed against the strings. An instrument consisting of two rows
of pipes, called a siku, hung from his neck. With a hand, he
indicated the olive-skinned man sitting on Ebudae’s right. She had
been watching him manipulate six silver pieces between his fingers
and it was mesmerizing her. “Our overly quiet friend here is
Juggles, master of playing with his balls.”