The Broken World Book One - Children of Another God (28 page)

"She's the
one," the captain said. "That storm almost sank my ship. It'll cost
me a fortune to repair the sails. How else could she have got
here?"

The advisor
held up a hand. "I know. The wind was caused by the Mujar hurrying
back to help her after he healed the Prince. A noble act on his
part, I might add."

"Then why
didn't you release Arrin?" Talsy demanded.

"Ah." He beamed
at her, turning to bask in the approval of the officers, who nodded
and smiled at his cleverness.

One clapped him
on the shoulder. "Good work, Yusan, the King will be pleased."

Yusan looked
smug. "So, you are with the Mujar."

Talsy cursed
herself for falling into such a stupid, obvious trap, and tried to
rectify her mistake. "I didn't say that. The officer told me he
thought Arrin was a Mujar lover, and that one had tried to release
him. It's not that hard to work out."

"Very clever,"
Yusan congratulated her. "But, unless I miss my guess, the Mujar
will come for you, and then we'll have him."

Realising that
denying it further would be useless, she tried another tactic. "If
you think he's stupid enough to fall into this trap, you're the one
who's really dumb."

"But I know
Mujar, and what clan bond means. You must have protection or aid as
part of your bargain, or he wouldn't have rescued you. He must
fulfil his clan bond, my dear. Is Arrin also part of the clan?"

"No," Talsy
denied. "Nor is protection part of the bargain. I know more about
Mujar than you, and I'm telling you he won't come for me."

"Oh, but he
will." He smiled and gestured to the guards. "Bring her to the sun
room, we will summon him now."

The officers
filed out, muttering, and the captain's smug smile faded as he
realised that his usefulness was over. Yusan dropped a couple of
coins into his hand as he passed, dismissing him. Talsy tried to
kick the guards as they dragged her after him, but they merely
tightened their grip.

They left the
dull, brown stone dungeons and entered a shiny white palace through
a narrow corridor. Fluted pillars supported a high ceiling covered
with murals of battle and woodland scenes, and potted plants basked
in the sunlight that poured in through skylights. A variety of
podgy statues, presumably of prior kings, smirked in niches, while
haughty portraits stared down from the walls. The guards' boots
rang on polished marble floors, and hers skidded when she dragged
them. Anxious terror and horrific visions of Chanter trapped and
tortured again clogged her mind. There had to be something she
could do to stop it, but her mind was a void when it came to clever
plans. Nothing would stop Chanter from coming to her aid, yet how
did they plan to trap him? Would they use gold, as her father had,
or violence like the thugs in Horran?

The guards
stopped in a bright, sun-warmed room with a domed quartz roof and
grey-streaked white marble walls. Formal gardens, where clipped
hedges lined stone paths and flowering trees shaded beds of bright
flowers, were visible between a convex row of fluted marble
pillars. A velvet-covered couch and a low, glass-topped table
furnished it, and white roses twined a trellis outside, filling the
air with sweet scent. Two shaven-pated servants, clad in blue and
yellow livery, stood like statues in shallow alcoves at the back of
the room, their hands folded and faces blank. Yusan beckoned to
one, who broke his immobile stance to hurry over and bow. From the
servant's demeanour, Talsy deduced that Yusan was a high-ranking
noble.

Yusan said,
"Inform the King that we're ready when he is."

Talsy racked
her brains for a way to warn Chanter. Birds sang outside, mocking
her despair. She turned to the advisor, glimpsing a flicker of
regret in Yusan's eyes before he looked away.

"Why do you
want to hurt him? He's never done anything to harm anyone," she
said.

"He blackmailed
the King."

Talsy shook her
head. "He'd never do that. He told me he made a bargain, begged a
favour and granted a Wish in return. That's not blackmail."

A muscle
twitched in Yusan's jaw. "The King wishes it. He doesn't like to be
beholden to a Mujar."

"You know it
isn't true. Just let me go."

Yusan frowned.
"I obey my king."

"Your king is
about to hurt a harmless being. It's like squashing a
butterfly."

"Mujar aren't
butterflies. If allowed to roam free, they brainwash young people
like you into thinking they're some kind of gods. Eventually they
would have had the entire race of Truemen worshipping them."

"That would
have been a good thing. Instead, the Hashon Jahar are wiping out
Truemen."

Yusan turned to
her, his brow furrowed. "What did you say?"

"You heard me.
The only beings strong enough to stop the Black Riders are Mujar,
but they're all in the Pits."

"Mujar won't
help us."

Yusan's
uneasiness made Talsy smile. Had no one ever thought of this
before? "Why should they? What have we ever done for them?"

Yusan shook his
head, recovering his poise. "That's an insane idea. Mujar wouldn't
do it, and besides, Truemen are in no danger of being wiped out, as
you so nicely put it. The Hashon Jahar are merely a savage tribe,
and we'll stop them eventually."

"Wrong again,
smart boy. The Hashon Jahar are of this world, and, like Mujar,
they're undying."

Yusan crossed
the floor to grip her shoulders. "Shut up! You know nothing! It's
Mujar lies! He told you this, didn't he?"

She nodded.
"But I've seen them, and they're not men."

A group of
well-dressed men entered, forcing the advisor to release her and
bow to his king. The guards dragged Talsy down with them, although
she would rather have spat in the monarch's face. When she
straightened, she studied the group. King Garsh stood out by virtue
of his bearded blond bulk and the gold circlet. Gold brocade
patterned the collar and cuffs of his indigo jacket, which he wore
over a white silk shirt tucked into matching trousers. Beside him,
a frail boy of about five strutted in pale blue, silver-edged
finery that almost matched his father's outfit. Three black-clad
advisors and a stocky, handsome man with curly brown hair and
bright green eyes followed them. He wore brown leather studded with
silver, which made Talsy think that he must be a huntsman or
executioner.

King Garsh
approached her. "So this is she? A pretty little thing, but
common." He gestured to the green-eyed man. "This is Darron. He's
going to make sure the Mujar behaves himself."

Darron
smiled.

"Well, let's
get on with it,” Garsh said, “I don't have all day. Move the couch
so I can see."

The servants
dragged the couch to a better vantage, turning it to face the
garden. The King settled on it, the Prince beside him. Darron
approached Talsy, drew a long dagger from his belt and held it up,
hoping, no doubt, to frighten her. She raised her chin and glared
at him. He pressed the cold blade to the hollow of her throat,
where her pulse beat.

"Call the
Mujar, bitch."

"No."

The weapon
pricked her skin. "I'll cut you if you don't."

"Go ahead, kill
me, then he'll never come."

Darron shook
his head. "I'm not going to kill you yet."

"And I'm not
going to call him."

Yusan said,
"She doesn't have to call him, the danger will."

Darron's dagger
dug deeper, and blood oozed from the cut. Talsy bit her tongue to
stifle a cry.

The Prince
pointed and crowed, "Look, Papa, she's bleeding!"

King Garsh
smiled as the Prince bounced and giggled, standing on the couch to
peer at Talsy. Judging by their expressions, everyone except the
King found the Prince's ghoulish inclinations shocking. The senior
advisors shot him sideways glances of distaste, Yusan grimaced and
kept his eyes on Talsy, who struggled to remain calm.

Talsy wished
she knew what warned Chanter when she was in danger. Perhaps it was
her fear, and if she could control it, he would not come. Closing
her eyes, she tried to block out the pain and stifle her fear. They
would not kill her while they needed her. The dagger sliced a
burning wound down her chest, severed her jacket's thongs and came
to rest over her heart.

Darron
whispered, "You've got spirit, girl, I'll give you that."

The blade's
point pricked her as he dug it in, making her gasp and open her
eyes.

"All I have to
do is push, and you're dead," he murmured.

Talsy spat in
his face, making him recoil with a grunt. The dagger whipped up to
press against her throat, poised over the throbbing artery.

"Don't make me
angry, little girl," he said, wiping his cheek.

"Do it, and the
Mujar goes free."

"I know."

Talsy swallowed
a scream as the dagger dug into her shoulder. The Prince crowed and
clapped, urging Darron to cut more. Talsy closed her eyes again,
praying that Chanter would not come to her aid this time.

The daltar
eagle drifted over the city, pinions rippling and tail steering as
he scanned the crowds below for a familiar figure. He had searched
all morning, taking on the eagle form for easier flying. He
wondered if she was locked up somewhere, but what reason could they
have to imprison a young girl? Surely, even if she had
transgressed, they would soon release her. He did not like to leave
Arrin trapped in the woods for too long.

Folding his
wings slightly, Chanter glided down to hover over the houses. In
the street below, a kitchen boy threw a bucket of scraps into the
gutter. Several stray dogs, a few crows and two vultures descended
upon the pile of offal and crusts. The sight of their feasting
reminded him of his hunger, and he considered joining them. He
lowered his feet to the rooftop – and almost leapt into the air
again. The deep clang of Dolana's urgent warning pounded through
the roof, coming from the palace. With a mighty downbeat, Chanter
sprang into the air, his wings powering him towards the King's
domicile. Now that he had heard the warning, he knew whence it
came. A pillared sun room came into sight, and he glided down,
checked his speed with a backstroke and dropped to the floor.

Talsy shouted,
"Get out of here! It's a trap!"

The man who
menaced her slapped her. "Shut up!"

The wind
whipped the advisors’ black robes as Chanter transformed. He
glanced around at the regal audience, his eyes settling upon Talsy
and her tormentor. As he was about to invoke Crayash, Yusan stepped
forward.

"Use the
Powers, and she dies."

Chanter
hesitated, considering the situation. The blade pressed to Talsy's
throat would kill her with one cut, and the man who held it looked
tough and determined, as did the soldiers who gripped her arms. His
powers would not intimidate them, since they knew he would not want
to harm them, and he did not doubt the advisor's threat. Deciding
that the risk was too great, he relaxed, his eyes flicking to the
King and Prince. He recognised the boy he had saved from the brink
of death, and wondered why he was now summoned here in this hostile
fashion.

Garsh smiled.
"So, Mujar, we meet again. A neat trick, hey? We have you
trapped."

Chanter
inclined his head, puzzled. "You do, it would seem."

"Now you will
pay for the insult you offered me. Did you think you would escape
punishment for your acts?"

"I offered no
insult. I saved your son."

Garsh's hard
smile vanished, replaced by a scowl of pure hatred. "You put the
price of a common soldier's freedom as sufficient to pay for my
son's life! Then you spurn my offer of comforts as though my roof
is not good enough for you to sup under." Foam flecked the King's
lips. "What do you think you are? Better than me? Better than a
king? You condescended to heal my son only because you wanted
something, or else you would have let him die. Your insults will
not go unpunished, Mujar scum! You forced me to obey you or lose my
only son!"

Chanter glanced
at Talsy, who stood rigid, the green-eyed man’s hand clamped over
her mouth, then turned to the King. "I did not force you to do
anything. Without my aid, your son would be dead now. What does it
matter why I saved him? My request was a small favour for you to
grant, and I was forced to leave because my clan was in
danger."

"I don't care
why you left! You could have demanded a mountain of jewels for my
son's life, and I'd have paid it. That, I would have understood and
respected, but you damned Mujar bastards revel in your power, don't
you?"

Garsh almost
frothed at the mouth, his face reddening as he worked himself into
a fury. "You treat us like fools and incompetents, taking every
opportunity to make us feel inferior, beholden, granting wishes
like you're some sort of god. I am a king, and I will not allow the
likes of you to best me. I will have retribution! You will
surrender, or she dies!"

"Let her go,"
Chanter murmured.

"When I have
you, not before."

The Mujar
glanced at Talsy again, his heart filled with sorrow. The situation
was unprecedented and confusing. Garsh was blackmailing him, yet
there was no way out of the predicament. If he refused, Talsy would
die and he would have failed her Wish of protection. By doing that,
he would be guilty of her death, which he could not allow. If not
for her Wish, he could have allowed her to die, since clan bond did
not include protection. Strangely, it all hinged on the words Talsy
had spoken months ago, which were burnt into his memory. Once
again, he regretted that he had not allowed her Wish to be
fulfilled on a prior occasion, and wondered why he had not. The
ways of Mujar were complicated and little understood by Truemen,
but, in this instance, he must allow Garsh to blackmail him in
order to save Talsy's life. This was a singular event, one that
would never be repeated.