Fire And Ice (Book 1) (29 page)

              Martin escorted her as he had the day before.  “Your Highness, I wonder if you have any plans of sparring in the near future.”

             
“Why do you ask?”

             
He took a moment to answer.  “I think some of the men would be interested in witnessing your skill first hand.”

             
In other words they wanted to know if she really had given their commander a challenge.  The novelty of the situation was not lost on her.  A young woman who could fight as well as lead.  It was intriguing, especially to men who might end up fighting for real very soon.  It could be inspiring, which was good for moral.  “One hour after noon,” she told him.

             
He ducked his head in thanks for her understanding.  “I will be there.”

              Captain Treska climbed the steps of the white stone structure located not far from Summerhall’s southern harbor.  His curly hair and beard were touched by gray, and they framed a face weathered by the winds of the sea.  The building housed eight families comfortably.  There were four apartments on a floor and two floors.  He rapped his knuckles on the first door on the right of the open ended hall.  Stairs at the back led up to the next level.  Voices and a commotion could be heard through the door and Treska couldn’t help but smile at the familiar sounds of home.  The door opened and a short, slightly plump, blonde woman stood there in surprise.

             
“You are back!”  She hugged him quickly and moved out of the way so he could come inside.  “Children!  Your father is home!”              

Two boys ran up to him and tugged at his legs.  The youngest was six and the older lad was ten with curly hair like his father.  “Did you bring us anything?” they asked in unison.

              Treska dug out some sweets from his pocket.  The boys grabbed them and began arguing over who had how much.

             
“You shouldn’t spoil them so,” his wife said, not unkindly, and he shrugged. 

             
A pretty girl, with light brown hair came out of the kitchen wearing a white apron tied around her brown dress.  She came over and gave her father a hug with more dignity than her younger siblings.  Krista was fourteen and at that age where boys were starting to take notice of her.  He reminded himself to have a talk with his wife to see if any young men have been bothering her.  He couldn’t be ignoring his fatherly duties.

             
“It is good to see you all,” he told his family.

             
“Come, sit,” Trina, his wife, called from the dining table.  They went and sat around the plain, light wood table, as she brought him a glass of wine.  A platter was filled with dark slices of meat, and a bowl contained peas.  Another plate held bread, baked that morning.

             
He took a sip of the wine and sighed, “It is good to be home.”

             
“I hope you will be staying longer than last time,” his wife reproached him.  He had to look down at the glass abashed.  “Again?”  She knew what the look meant.

             
“Last one,” he stated quickly in his defense.  “I made a great deal for a shipment of silk.  With trade the way it is, silk will fetch a high price.”

             
“Silk?” she mused.  “All right, but after that?”

             
“I do not think I will be going out again until things are resolved.”  He said it with a worried frown.

             
“Will it be bad?” she asked.              

             
He glanced at his children who were listening intently.  “We can discuss it later.  Now, what news have I missed while I’ve been away?”

             
“Did you hear about what happened in Westland?” Krista spoke up quickly.

             
“If you mean about the Princess Katelyn, yes.  I heard the rumors in Sol Tara.”

             
“Our daughter seems to find the story fascinating,” her mother informed him.

             
“It’s romantic,” she protested.

             
Treska rolled his eyes.  “If you say so.”  He glanced at his wife and winked.

             
“Father!” Krista rebuked him.

             
He stopped and looked at his wife’s eyes more closely.  He was reminded of the man he had seen in Crecy.  For some reason he pondered over that from time to time.  There was something about the eyes.  “That’s it!” he said suddenly and his family jumped.  “Sorry.”

             
“What is it?” Trina questioned.

             
He told her about the Anagassi he had seen.  “It was his eyes.  I didn’t realize it until now.”

             
“Realize what?”

             
“He was not a Karand.”

              Bethesda looked up from the ledger she was going over when she heard the front door open.  She found it difficult continuing the business with Miko gone.  Her son had not returned yet either and he would have been a great help.  The other children were doing their best, but Oran had more experience.                

             
Her eldest son seemed incapable of haggling with clients, which meant he would never be very good at factoring the goods they traded in, but he made up for it with a common sense attitude and good business sense.  In that he tended to follow after his mother. 

             
“You have been asking around for information?” the man who entered and approached the counter was too thin and had oily black hair and dark skin.

             
“Do you have some?” she replied evenly.  Someone had already been in, making up stories and asking for money.  She wasn’t fooled by it.

             
“Maybe.”

             
She gritted her teeth.  She was not the negotiator her husband had been, and everyone wanted to haggle.  “Tell me something useful and I will decide what it is worth.”

             
The man shrugged his bony shoulders.  “Two men took passage on the ship I work on.  They got off at Crecy.”

             
She put a silver coin on the counter top.  “What did they look like?”

             
“One was short and heavy.  He wore a hood that hid his face, but I could see that he was a  Karand.”

             
“And the other?” she pressed.  It was worthless unless he knew about them both.

             
“Tall.  Never saw his face.  He kept it covered all the time.”

             
“Could you tell by his speech if he was a Midian?”

             
“Midian?  No he didn’t talk, but he wasn’t a Midian.”

             
The hope that had risen briefly in her sank back down.  The shorter one could have been Miko.  But he would have no reason to be on a ship if the Midian wasn't with him.  “Are you sure?”

             
The man nodded.  “He was an Anagassi.”              

Anagassi?  She almost laughed, but refused to give anything away to this man.  She placed a gold piece on the counter.  “Thank you, you may go now.”  He grabbed the coins and left.  After the door closed behind him, she allowed herself to laugh.

              Only her Miko would think of that.  The consequences if caught made it something not to even think about.  No one else would have dared imitate one of the Anagassi.  Only her Miko.

              Naras held out the message case to the creature that stood before him.  He wished the thing would not look at him like he was something to eat.  The beasts were stupid, but followed orders.  The thing took the case in one clawed hand.  It grunted a few times before its wings unfolded from behind its back and started to beat at the air.  It lifted upward into the night.  Naras turned away and looked at the moonlight reflecting off the water of the river, and the city of Summerhall beyond.

Chapter 18

Sun Day

              The terrain was more familiar with its low hills overlaid by green trees and tall grass though some of the grass was turning brown from the heat.  Otherwise, it was similar to some of the hills that bordered the Sun Plain.                            As they neared the small town, Coran pulled his hood lower to hide his face while wishing he was among those hills right now.  The cloth that had covered his face lay limply down from his head.  Supplies were running low and hunting would take too long so they had to risk the town.  They still traveled by night most of the time to reduce the chance of encountering the curious.  Even with the horses it was taking longer than planned.  They couldn’t trust the road for long so they had to travel overland.

             
The houses were a mix of wood, stone and some bricks.  It looked like the inhabitants had used whatever was most available at the time.  They picked this town because it was small enough not to have any walls or guards of its own, and also because it was along a major road, so strangers would not be unusual.  Hopefully.

             
Miko led them to a store front where a sign said that goods could be bought inside.  As expected no one took much notice of them just like the last town.  Coran dismounted, and took a quick look around.  They had chosen to come in early so only a few people were about, dressed in not much more than rags.  He felt sorry for the people, but he couldn’t change it.  Not now.  If he was successful in obtaining the information he was sent for, then maybe someday things would improve here.

             
He followed Miko into the store.  Counters held a variety of goods.  There were packs and lanterns, packages of food and canteens.  Along the walls hung swords, riding gear, and some cloaks.  All of the items were old; swords were rusty, and packs beaten by use.  He hoped the food was at least edible.  Miko bargained with the old man who ran the place and they left with several packages of dried fruit, some meal, and a couple bottles of local brew.  Miko called the last necessities. 

             
As Coran started placing packages in the saddle bags, he noticed people gathered across the way.  There were three horses.  On one was a woman with dark, gray streaked hair tied up in a bun.  She wore a long, dark, flowing robe over her shoulders.  The other rider made Coran glad his own robe was closed.  By the dress he was an Anagassi.  A real one.  He did not wear an
atiefa
himself and his red sash was prevalent. 

             
A woman with her hands bound together stood behind one of the horses.  A rope connected her to the saddle’s pommel.  He scowled at seeing anyone treated such a way.  She was tall, dark and dirty.  A few bruises showed on her gaunt face.  Despite her circumstances there was a defiant look in her eyes.  He felt his rage build.

             
Two other men stood talking nearby.  He strained to hear.  One was of average height and weight.  The other was older and leaned on a broom.  He must have owned the building where they stood.

             
“...sure you don’t want to sell?” the one with the broom asked with an accent slightly different from Miko’s.  Before learning some of the proper idioms of Karandi speech Coran would not have been able to tell the difference.

             
“No, my friend.  She will bring a premium in Lornth,” the fat one responded in the same accent.   

             
“Has she been used?”  There was no reason to explain what he meant by that.

             
“No.  My sister there makes sure of that.”  He pointed to the older woman on the horse.

             
“No wonder you’re asking so much.”  The old man spit into the dirt of the road.              

             
“Sorry friend, but we have to be going.”  The fat one mounted on the remaining horse.  “Maybe next time I will have something more in your price range.”  He waved as they rode away at a walk so the woman could keep up.

             
Coran mounted quickly.  Miko was watching him carefully as he mounted as well.  He waited until they were under the cover of the trees before speaking.

             
“I saw that look in your father’s eyes once,” Miko started carefully.  “There was a woman bound as a slave then too.  I have only one question for you.”

             
Coran nodded for him to go ahead and ask.  Nothing was going to change his mind.

             
“Can you deal with a real Anagassi?”

             
Not the rebuke he had expected.  “Let me ask you something,” Coran countered.  “Why are you helping?”

             
Miko smiled thinly.  “That woman that your father saw is now my wife.”

             
Coran would have to get the whole story when there was time.  “I can take him.  I have to,” he replied, determined to succeed.  He could not leave a woman like that.  He wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

             
“Let us pick up the pace a bit and find a suitable place ahead of them to wait,” Miko suggested and flicked the reins. 

             
They rode at a quick walk around trees and rocks exposed from the earth.  After a time they closed the distance between them and the road.  They saw the group they sought a half mile back, just rounding a bend in the road.  They went ahead a little further before reining in on the dirt-packed highway. 

             
They talked about how to handle the situation.  Miko made some suggestions and Coran listened.  The man had far more experience than him in dealing with Karands.  They dismounted along the side of the road to wait.  Coran switched the curved blade he picked up back at the water hole for the broadsword he was more comfortable with.  Since Miko indicated that what he wore really wouldn’t matter as long as he wasn’t seen as a Midian, he took off the brown robe.  It would only encumber him if it came to a fight.

             
Miko did not give them much of a chance for success.  He said the Anagassi were
very
good at what they did.  Despite that he was still willing to help.  When Coran asked again why the trader replied; ‘My wife will forgive me if I get myself killed.’

             
The party approached at a steady, slow pace.  The woman kept up on foot, despite the weakness apparent on her face.  Weakness and despair. 

             
As they came alongside, Miko addressed the large man.  “Good sir.”  The fat man stopped as did the others behind him.  “I could not help but notice your woman there.  Is she for sale?” Miko was speaking slightly different, trying to sound more like an Eastern Karand.

             
“I am sorry sir, but I plan to sell her in Lornth.”  The man looked doubtfully at Miko’s clothing which was obviously inferior to his own.

             
“Tell me how much you plan to get for her and I will outbid it,” Miko told him as he dangled a jingling purse in the air.

             
The man’s expression became curious.  He seemed to be thinking over whether to believe him or not.  “Very well.  Twenty golds.”

             
Miko walked over and examined the woman closely.  “Is she intact?  She would not be worth it otherwise.”

             
“She is.  My word on it.”

             
“That is still a high price,” Miko rubbed his jaw.  “I know there are some who would pay it so I do not doubt your word, but it is still high.”              

“The times are hard,” the man pointed out.  “It is difficult to find the things people want.” 

              “That is true,” Miko agreed.  “I will give you twenty-two.”

             
The fat man looked greedily at the purse Miko held.  “Done.”

             
Coran was sweating.  Miko said it was worth a try to buy her first, but he didn’t believe it would work.  Coran thought they might get away with it.  Miko offered the purse.  That was all that was left of their money and they had a long way to go yet.  Before the fat man could take it the Anagassi spoke up for the first time.

             
“You are not of the Anagassi,” he said, looking directly at Coran.  His tone was not friendly. 

             
Everything happened at once.  The Anagassi had his sword out and swung from his saddle to the ground in a blink.  Coran whipped his out only a fraction slower.  Miko reached up, grabbed the fat man by the arm and pulled him from the saddle.  The sister screamed, and the slave huddled by the horse that held her leash.

             
Coran couldn’t afford to see what was happening elsewhere.  All of his attention was focused on the figure before him.  The Anagassi swung quickly, Coran parried, a fist struck him in the face.  He was more surprised than hurt.  Another swing was followed by a kick to his side.  Another swing and blow, Coran reacted in time to block them both.  The Anagassi was all over him.  Coran couldn’t attack.  All his concentration was on keeping that curved, spinning blade from reaching him.  A slash followed a swing followed a kick followed a slash.  Coran danced backwards in retreat.  His opponent came in close and Coran risked a punch of his own, catching the Anagassi in the face.  That was the opening he had waited for.  He went on the attack using every ounce of skill and knowledge he could muster.  His opponent fell back for the first time.   Their blades were a blur as they fought. 

             
Finally there came a pause in the action and the man stepped back.  Coran did as well.  He could use the momentary break to catch his breath.               

             
The Anagassi lowered his curved sword and inclined his head only slightly.  “I am Soelidin of the Anagassi.  Servant and defender of She’al.”

             
Coran responded the same way, not sure if this was a ritual greeting or if the man wanted to know the name of the one he would kill.  “I am Coran Tyelin.  I am loyal to Summerhall and a knight of the Sun Plain.”

             
Soelidin nodded as if he expected as much.  “Midian.”  He glanced to the others and Coran risked a quick one as well.  The fat man was lying on the ground.  He wasn’t moving.  The woman raised a knife and tried to stab Miko.  The trader grabbed the woman’s wrist and brought his own knife down to stab her in the heart.  “It appears that I am unemployed,” Soelidin stated without emotion.  “I would kill you for wearing what you should not be, yet...”  He glanced at the slave girl.  “I do not like that.  Tell me Coran Tyelin, why are you here?”

             
Coran could see only the man’s eyes.  They were cold like the rocks of a cave in winter.  There was something fatalistic in that gaze that said death did not worry him.  “I am here to find out what my enemy plans.  He would destroy my home.”

             
“I have heard many things but I did not know it was time.  You are here and you are dressed as you are.”  He sounded puzzled.  “Why do you do this?  Fight here and risk your mission.”

             
Coran looked at the woman.  “I could not do otherwise.”

             
“That speaks well of you.  I will not kill you today.”  He said it as if he were doing him a favor.  He probably was.

             
“And I will not kill you,” Coran responded likewise.                 Soelidin barked a quick laugh.

             
“Tell me Soelidin, if you do not approve of slavery, why were you traveling with a slaver?”

             
“I was told to go east.  He was the only one who would hire me, and I needed a way across the narrows.”

             
“Told by whom?  Why?” Coran pressed.

             
“I can only say that I was told to go east, and I would know when to return.”  Soelidin’s eyes locked with his meaningfully.  “I will return to my home now.  There is much that my people must know.”  He sheathed his blade.  “May She’al fare you well on your quest Coran Tyelin.”

             
“And you Soelidin.”  Coran put his own weapon away.  He watched the Anagassi mount, turn his horse back the way he had come, and ride away without a backward glance.  Coran had to shake his head at the strange encounter.  Soelidin had wanted to kill Coran, then stopped for some reason he could not imagine.  Whatever the Anagassi had been sent to find it had something to do with him.  What, he couldn’t imagine.  Maybe he should be grateful for whatever the reason was, since it kept Soelidin from killing him.  In the end he decided that the Anagassi were a strange people, stranger even than the average Karand. 

             
Coran turned towards the remaining two people.  Miko had cut the woman loose, she stood alone and obviously scared.  Coran went towards her until he was only a few feet away.  He held his arms out, empty as not to frighten her.

             
“What is your name?” he asked gently.