The Flames of Deception - A Horizon of Storms: Book 1 (82 page)

“
What is it this time?” Luccius asked, sniffing the jug. The
steaming liquid inside was a dark brown, almost black.

“
They call it the ‘Aslemerian drink’,” she advised him. “I had
it yesterday morning. It wakes you up.”

“
I’m still recovering from the
last
Aslemerian drink you made me try!” He
burped.

“
It is not alcohol.” She leaned forward and poured
him a cup. “Go on, don’t be such a wet
rabbit
,” she grinned.

“
Is that
another
insult about my ears?” he
grunted.

“
Perhaps
,” she smiled.

He
sipped at the liquid. “It’s a little bitter,” he advised. “But not
as bad as that fire water!”

She
nodded her agreement. “It is a little like a drink we have at home.
We call it Eklet Spice. It is made from the seeds of the fruit of
the Eklet tree. It is made into a paste and then mixed with water
and pepper. This is not quite the same, but it is close. A reminder
of my land,” she smiled thinly.

“
You
miss your home?” Luccius asked.

“
Very much. I never thought I would
ever
leave. But fate
plays cruel games with our lives.” She shook her head. “Anyway,”
she said, changing tack. “Tell me about those ears. Where
are
you
from?”

“
I
come from a land much further east than here. My people keep
ourselves to ourselves mostly,” Luccius said.

“
I can see
why
,” she said, grinning, and he frowned. “It is a
joke
,” she advised. “You are too easily offended in these
lands. What brought you this far away from your home?” she
asked.

“
It
is complicated,” he replied.

“
As complicated as the story of your
current
journey?”

He shrugged. “Not
that
complicated perhaps.”

“
Then you do not want to discuss it for
another
reason?” she
asked.

“
You
can be quite abrupt, you do realise?” Luccius retorted. She smiled
again and he took a breath. “It’s not important right
now.”

“
Your
life
is not important?” she asked, and shook her head.
“You
are
a strange kind, rabbit -ears.” He frowned and turned away,
sipping the drink. After a pause, Emary asked: “Where is the
wielder? I’d have thought he would be jumping at the…” she thought
for the word “
heels
, to continue this search for the
princess.”

“
Matthias is upstairs preparing. He won’t be long.”

“
Good. I don’t like to be kept waiting.” She folded
her arms. “The last few days have been
very
slow.”

“
You are being
paid
to help! You can wait as much as we
need
you to!” He
grimaced. She grinned again and he could feel himself blushing, so
he turned back to peering into his cup, and swirled the dark liquid
around its bottom.

Matthias came down a few minutes later. He sat down with them
and ate a wrinkly apple.

“
Here, try some of this!” Luccius gestured with his cup, and
pushed the jug towards his friend. Matthias sniffed the
liquid.

“
I’ve had this before. They call it kafke in Tekri. It’s not
to my taste.” He pushed the drink away. “Besides, I’d rather get
started looking for Josephine and Thadius again.”

“
You
have a plan for today?” Luccius asked.

“
No
more than I did the last few days. But I still think the fact a
helspawn made it so far into Olindia, into Tanginar on its own
might mean that it was looking for something specific.”

“
For
your Josephine?” Emary asked.

Matthias nodded. “I hope so. They may be checking nearby
towns to see if she is alive, and if so, to make sure that she
isn’t for long. Which also means the sorcerers are worried she is
still a threat.”

“
They think she can kill the dragon?” Luccius
asked.

“
Perhaps. Or that she can stop whatever it is they
are really up to
besides
releasing Sikaris. We need to find her before
they
do.”

“
You are
sure
that she survived this attack you described?”
Emary asked. “From what you told me, you are lucky to be alive
yourselves. If she was in the building that
exploded…”

“
She’s alive,” Matthias nodded. “I know she is. Don’t ask me
how, but I just know it.”

“
You have a great deal of faith in this girl,
wielder,” Emary said. She patted him on the back. “We
will
find
her.”

Matthias nodded. “We will. Emary, please go with
Luccius and ask around town again if anyone has seen someone
bearing Josephine’s description in the last few days. I’m going to
see if I can get us some
horses
to ride!”

Rain
lashed the windows of King Arwell’s chambers. The dark clouds
blotted out the sun and cast a shadow on his solemn face as he
stared into the fire. Behind him, Captain Tiberius stood to
attention with what was blatantly apparent difficulty. He had
arrived back in the city less than an hour earlier and his chest
heaved beneath his brown, leather tunic with the effort of
traversing the hotch – potch scaffolds with haste. His face was red
and his clothes and hair sodden.

“
How can you be certain this report is
accurate?
” the king asked him, his voice wavering, reviewing a
clearly hastily scribbled parchment in his hands. He held the paper
up, his fingers crinkling the delicate vellum. “This man abandoned
his post in Crystal Ember. How trustworthy can the man be if he
will run from his duty?”

Tiberius cleared his hoarse throat. “Your Grace,
were I confronted with the horrors that the guard described, I
would run just as fast as he did. The man was in the fortress only
a few minutes before the dragon destroyed it. He left to help put
out the fires in the city and then, in an
instant
…” the man stopped and swallowed. “He said
the building was engulfed in a
maelstrom
of flame. The rocks
melted
with the heat of it.” He shook his
head. “If he stayed he would have been burnt to ashes. He confirmed
that Princess Josephine was with the protector on the battlements
when the creature struck the building.” The king turned away from
him to the window. The mid - morning sunshine peaked through the
clouds. “I rode back as fast as I could. The devastation I have
seen, even so far from the ruined capital, is
extreme
. Entire
towns
have been burnt from the map. I cannot see
how
anyone
could have survived an attack like that.” He kneeled. “I
am
so
sorry, my old
friend.”

The king shook his head. “I want to see this
destruction for myself,” he advised heatedly. “I
can’t
believe what you
tell me is true!”

“
Your Grace, it would be too
dangerous
for you to go anywhere
near
Olindia. No - one
knows where the creature will strike next. You are safest
here.”

“
I won’t rest until I know for
certain
that Josephine…” he trailed
off.

Tiberius nodded. “I
understand
Your Grace. But do you not
trust
me to have been
your eyes in this? Would I have exaggerated the situation?
No
good
can come from travelling into the eye of the storm.” He
licked his lips. “My king, your daughter… your daughter is
dead.”

Arwell took a deep breath. “A son can bear the
loss of his father, when it comes from old age. But for a father to
lose his
daughter
…” he began to sob. “And I
let
her go! I threw her into death’s path!” He wailed
in sorrow, and fell back against the hearth of the fire, striking
the mantelpiece heavily with his back.

Tiberius stood and grasped his friend by the shoulders as he
hunched over in front of his eyes. “You did what you thought to be
right for everyone!” he said.

“
But not what was good for
her!
I let her be
used
as a
tool!
” he dribbled. “I have lost
everything!
”

The
man cried until the tears would not come any longer. The captain
remained by his side as the hours passed in a blur of sorrow. The
day had almost ended, the twilight setting in, when the king spoke
more calmly.

“
It has been less than a month since news of the
dragon reached us. It has already killed
thousands
of people. It has rent from me
my
only
child.” His teeth gritted and his eyes, still flooded with
tears, burned with a lustrous resolve. “It will not kill any
more
of our own,
captain. I will have its
head
mounted above this mantel and its fleshy body torn
to
shreds
and fed to the
pigs!
Raise
every
able - bodied man and put a weapon in his hand.
Tell every outpost to ready trebuchet, cannon-
anything
they can muster. We will
end
that beast if it
sets one
claw
on to my soil. I will torture it the way it now tortures me
until it can
bear
no
more!
”

Tiberius nodded. It will be
done
, my king.” He turned for the door.
“If I can do
anything
else my friend-”

“
Just see to it that when the creature
comes
here, which it will
when it desires us, we will have it
destroyed
. The last dragon will die by my hand as
the last of
my
line has died by
his
.”

Emperor Chalize of Aslemer stood admiring the painting that
now hung opposite his bed, his naked body covered only by a woollen
bisht that lay casually open at its front. He rubbed his shaved
head as his dark brown eyes picked over every stroke of the brush
on the canvas.

“
Do
you know what this painting portrays?” he asked the woman who lay
naked atop the silken bed - sheets behind him. She was of middling
years, her tanned shape slender, but with wide hips and short legs.
She stirred from her position and shifted until she lay on her
front, legs sticking up behind her, and propped her head on her
hands.

“
It
looks like a coronation to me,” she said, and then pointed with a
hand. “That man is signing in a new emperor.” She smiled. “Tell me,
am I right?”

Chalize smiled, and shook his head. “I am
afraid
not
,
my dear.” He gestured to the man pictured holding a quill,
scratching words into a scroll. “That is my father, signing the
treaty which ratified Ishlamarian independence from Aslemer, some
fifty years ago. The man standing over him is the Ajaw of
Ishlamar,
gloating
over his success.”

The
woman scowled. “Why would you have a picture showing your father’s
defeat hanging in your chambers?” she asked him.

“
It is a reminder to me of how
easily
defeat can be thrust on to one so
complacent,” he advised, scrutinising the painting. “It was seized
by my armies eight months ago, when we reclaimed the Ishlamarian
territories. They brought it to me last night. The artist is rather
good, don’t you think?” He cast his hand over the canvas. “He
captures the bitterness in my father’s eyes quite perfectly.
And
the weakness with
which his rule was characterised is depicted in the limpness with
which he holds the quill that signed away half of our
rightful
land.”

“
You
don’t think much of your father?” she asked him.