Whisper (18 page)

You are the most annoying dragon on the planet, do you know that? You speak in half-truths and riddles. Can’t you ever just say what you mean?

I would…thought…Not even close to… 

“Brin!” Darius yelled aloud, panic lighting his eyes.

Damn…out…range…up!

“Are you saying you’re too out of range for me to hear you? You’re moving! Why didn’t you say something? I swear, Brin!”

Not…Range!...I…superior…Dragon’s….

That was the last word Darius heard as he sprang to his feet. “Daniel, come on. The girls are way ahead of us. We have to catch up.”

“How in the world?” Daniel said, struggling to hoist himself back into the dreaded saddle. Darius planted an undignified hand on Daniel’s bottom to help shove him up onto his horse’s back before swinging lithely onto his own mount. “How did they get so far ahead of us?” Daniel said. He thought he’d heard Darius mutter something about arrogant dragons before his heels jabbed sharply into the sides of his horse and he sprang away. Daniel could do nothing more but struggle to maintain his hold on the reins and keep up with the Breken, who raced ahead of him.

Khan had just cleared the last dune, and the city of Darak spread out before them.

“In Cyrus’s name,” Dearra said, her voice no more than a breathy whisper. Lavish pavilions of every color surrounded the city, like brilliant petals on a desert blossom, becoming more sporadic as Dearra’s gaze worked further inward until they were no more than dots of pigment against Darak landscape. At the far edge of it all, a towering stone wall loomed like a red giant, watching over the bustle of the insignificant mortals who dwelled in its shadow.

Most of the stone dwellings were single-level structures with deep overhangs extending outward from the roofs, creating dimly-lit recesses where their residents could find comfort in the shade, though, probably because of the cold, grey stone, nothing about them seemed comforting to Dearra.

As her eyes scanned further inward towards the heart of the city, a lone tower dominated. It rested quietly, like a sword buried in the sand, yet appearing no less deadly.

They neared the first of the tents that rimmed the city and were flanked by a half dozen Breken warriors, clothed in vibrant red and black that somehow made them seem even larger than they already were. The tattoos on their faces looked severe and imposing. Though Dearra had become accustomed to the gentle swirls and lines on Darius’s face, and she was certainly familiar with markings like these, it made them no less foreign and frightening. They wore no head coverings, but let their hair flow wildly down their backs except where it was woven into a tight Breken-braid.

The Breken guard made no move to stop their progress. Instead, it seemed to the girls they were simply there to ensure the women kept moving in the right, general direction.

Carly remained calm and looked straight ahead as she moved deeper into the city, but Dearra’s hand went to the hilt of her sword. She turned her head, first left and then right, as if struggling to keep watch in all directions at once. It was unnerving to be in such a situation, and Dearra kept trying to analyze her surroundings in order to plan a defense, should one be needed. But try as she might, her plans were no more solid than the shifting sand beneath Khan’s hooves.

One of the Breken seemed to ride quite near them, but then Dearra blinked and he suddenly appeared to be behind them slightly, just on the border of Dearra’s peripheral vision. When she shifted to get a better look, he seemed to appear in front of them. The other Breken laughed at her obvious confusion, and it was then she realized this was his ability, and he had been toying with her, so she fixed her gaze straight ahead, and tried to ignore their jeers.

Dearra’s irritation at being laughed at was so great, it was palpable. Carly felt her hold herself rigidly erect behind her as they continued to ride. “Breathe, Dearra,” Carly whispered.

“That’s easy for you to say. All you have to do is steer the horse. I’m the one who has to save us if something goes wrong.”

First of all, I am the one who would be saving us if something went wrong. Secondly, if something did go awry, I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t stand a chance anyway, so you might as well relax and enjoy the view.

“Thanks, Brin. Thanks a lot.”

“What? What am I missing,” Carly asked anxiously.

“Nothing, really. Brin was just reminding me that if anything were to happen now, we’re all dead anyway, so I might as well relax.” Dearra huffed.

“Oh.” Carly paused and then added, “He has a point, really.”

“You two will be the death of me,” Dearra complained.

“That’s good, right?” Carly asked.

“What do you mean, good?” Dearra asked.

“Well, if
we’ll
be the death of you, you can stop worrying about the Breken, right?”

Dearra and Carly laughed aloud, surprising one of the guards. He drew his sword in response and coaxed his horse closer to them, but it was a little too close for Khan’s comfort, and he reared up at the perceived threat, lashing out with his sharp hooves.

Dearra heard a sickening crunch as Khan’s hoof connected with the man’s shoulder and sent him crashing to the ground. She pulled Brin from his sheath, her eyes blazing as she braced to meet her attackers, but as Khan settled she heard loud booming laughter from the guard as they mocked their injured companion’s foolishness. Supporting his arm—which was clearly broken—the man lifted himself from the ground and disappeared amongst the swirl of tents, only to be replaced by another one, shortly thereafter.

The Breken laughter ended abruptly and all eyes turned to Dearra to see what she would do next.

Peace, Dearra. All is well.

Dearra continued to hold her sword before her, and a slight tremor of adrenalin coursed through her body.

Brin spoke again, this time a bit more forcefully.
Dearra! You’re upsetting, Carly.

Dearra realized how still Carly sat, and how the air around her seemed noticeably cooler than it had a moment before. Realizing that she needed to break the tension before things disintegrated further, she sheathed her sword and leaned close to Carly’s ear. “I guess I was wrong,” Dearra whispered. “Maybe
you
won’t be the death of me after all.”

Carly snorted a small giggle and visibly relaxed. They began to move again, and though the girls were quieter, Khan was still tense after the recent threat to Carly’s wellbeing.

The small procession continued, and Dearra and Carly took in the bustle of activity around them. The Breken people went about their business as if visitors were a common occurrence, though Dearra suspected most strangers came here only when forced to.

A loud argument soon caught their attention, and Carly moved Khan to the side of the road to let a large group pass by. Two Breken men of obvious wealth rode in the lead. Behind them, wearing rags and covered in filth, followed ten people, men and women combined.

“You knew I had my eye on that one!” the first Breken fumed to his companion. “She was the best of the lot and her tongue had already been removed; she was perfect. I wouldn’t have needed to wait for her to heal before—”

“Oh, shut up! I’m tired of your incessant whining. If you wanted her then you should have bid higher. It
was
an auction after all.”

“You knew I wanted her?”

“Of course I did. It served to make the acquisition that much sweeter,” he laughed cruelly at his companion’s frustrated glare.

What followed happened so quickly, Dearra hardly had time to track the movement. The first Breken drew his sword and wheeled his horse around to attack. The second Breken drew his sword at almost the exact same moment, and the two men’s horses slammed together as steel hit steel. The massive animals reared and screamed while the men continued their assault on one another.

One of the guard dressed in crimson and black stepped into the fray. “In the name of house Falco!” he shouted above the din. “I order you to stop!” 

As incredible as it seems, the two men ceased combat almost immediately. The guard looked at the two men before beginning again. “We have business. Continue on so that we may pass, or give your explanations to the Lord of the House.”

Though they seemed calm enough, Dearra noticed a flash of alarm in their eyes at the mention of House Falco, and the men collected themselves quickly.

Dearra heard a soft keening sound and noticed a woman on her knees beside an elderly man, trampled beneath the hooves of one of the Breken mounts during the altercation. The woman held him in her arms and rocked him back and forth. Dearra saw a thin trickle of blood running from the corner of his mouth and out of one ear.

“Now look what you’ve done! It’s bad enough you bought the one woman I wanted, now you’ve cost me another slave. You’re paying for the loss,” he said casually, before kicking his horse into a steady trot and moving on. Another Breken, one of a lower rank, brought up the rear, and ushered the slaves forward, but the woman refused to leave the injured man until she was grabbed firmly by the hair and dragged from his side.

Peace, Dearra. There’s nothing you can do. Any effort you make on her behalf will only bring her more punishment.
Brin’s words were gentle. Even he could feel the waves of wrath and helplessness that radiated off of Dearra.

As the group moved on, stray dogs started to appear, seemingly from nowhere. Dearra watched in confusion as they circled and sniffed. Her lack of clarity was short-lived, as the half-starved animals descended on the injured man in the streets. The man uttered a single, terrible, choked scream before the largest dog sank its teeth into his throat and ended his suffering.

Carly’s head hung low, her hair covering her face as tears slipped down her cheeks. This was not a life lost in battle. That would have been something she could understand. This was a life snuffed out because of casual cruelty and indifference. And then to see him deprived of the comfort of a loved one and reduced to no more than a meal for dogs? Well, it was all too much for sweet Carly to bear.

The Falco guard who had stepped forward to end the dispute looked on with mild curiosity at the strange reaction of the Maj female. How odd that she should weep for a slave, and someone she didn’t even know at that. The dogs made quick work of the hapless slave—what more was there to be done? He shook his head in disapproval.

Dearra felt Carly’s shoulder’s shake as she cried. She wrapped her arms around her friend’s waist and gently took the reins from her trembling fingers. She nudged Khan’s flanks with her heels, and Dearra held her head high and looked straight ahead as they left the grisly scene behind them to make their way deeper into the city.

Time seemed to almost stand still as they wound their way through that terrible city. Carly’s tears had dried, and she had regained the cool composure she was so known for. She wondered how one could grieve in a place like this when each turning of a corner only served to reveal further atrocities. Surrounding them was a place where death seemed almost preferable to life. Dearra had been right when she compared this place to a desert bloom. On the outside it was colorful and drew you in to peer closely at its vibrant display. It was only when you came close, too close, did you discover the living thing before you was carnivorous, and you were but one more morsel to be devoured by it.

Dirty children clung to their mother’s skirts as they worked in and around the homes of their Breken masters, their small fingers wound tightly in the fabric and holding fast as they tried to avoid being stepped on by their ever-moving parent. Remembering the starving dogs that waited just out of sight, it wasn’t hard for Dearra to understand what made these children cling so closely. Dark circles like bruises shone under their eyes, casting reflections that were mirrors of despair Dearra dare not look to deeply into, lest she find herself pulled into such profound pools of anguish that she’d never make her way free of them.

The slaves were almost everywhere, covered in grime, the clothes they wore literally disintegrating around them. Others were put into coarse garments which rubbed their skin raw until, mercifully, it became hard and calloused. Even in the desert where water was scarce, Dearra wondered if it was necessary for these people to be quite so unclean, or if it was just one more way for the Breken to entertain themselves, one more, severe way to dominate and control.

On the whole, the city was remarkably clean and well maintained. No refuse littered the streets as it did in Bandar, and the air was sweet with the scent of burning incense. The rich smell of burning dung was also in the air, though it was not heavy or cloying. There was probably not much need for it during the day, but Dearra imagined, in a place with few trees, dung would be a necessary heat source when the temperatures plummeted at night. Still, that much manure meant many, many horses, and Dearra shook her head at the staggering amount of feed that would be needed to keep the system sustainable. At least they were able to get something back for all the work it took to bring in fodder for their mounts.

The guard that had stayed mostly out of the way as they went now rode alongside of Khan, keeping a respectful distance. It didn’t take the two young women long to realize they were being herded. After a while, Dearra saw that they had progressed towards the towering stone wall she had seen when they first approached Darak. It looked like a part of some mountain that had been ground down until only this last vestige of its greatness remained. Dearra could not see the whole of the wall with her vision obstructed by the surrounding buildings, but she was able to see enough to recognize that it still towered hundreds of feet above the ground. Its base was quite broad and curved in on itself, so that what at first appeared to be a flat wall was, in fact, more crescent shaped.

Just before they reached the imposing rock, all other structures ceased, and a completely open expanse where there were no buildings, people, or even smaller rocks or brush was revealed. Once they got close enough, Dearra could see three banners hanging at intervals around the crescent of stone. Beneath each of these was an elaborate doorway carved in the stone.

Above the first entry there hung a pennant of green and black, depicting a serpent wrapping itself around a vial, venom dripping from one fang.

Above the second doorway waved a banner of red and black, the cloth looking more liquid than solid as it roiled and flowed upon the hot desert breeze. The red reminded Dearra of the color of blood, and it chilled her to look upon it, even with the mid-day sun beating down upon it. On the red background was a black bird, wings spread and talons poised as if it were ready to grasp an unsuspecting prey.