Whisper (20 page)

Even with the torches warming the corridors, Dearra felt a cool, fresh breeze coming from some of the side tunnels they passed. Of course, it wasn’t outside of the realm of possibility that some of the chill Dearra felt was the side effect of Carly’s anxieties, though Dearra detected nothing short of confidence from Carly as they followed their escort even deeper into the house. Dearra, on the other hand, felt and looked as if she were a bundle of raw nerves, and she knew it. Knowing of the feelings, however, was not the same as controlling them. Her hand clutched the hilt of her sword, but she knew she could do nothing more than take a couple of them with her if push ever came to shove. She was glad to have Carly at her side and would have never been able to send her friend into this place alone, even though it went against everything Daniel had ever taught her to allow herself to be at such a tactical disadvantage.

The route they took seem to meander from side passage to main passage and back again, through random rooms and alcoves, and possibly a circle back around, or so it seemed to Dearra at one point. The Breken were such a suspicious lot, it made complete sense they would try to confuse the girls as to the course they were taking.

Finally they stopped in front of a door that looked vaguely familiar. Dearra thought it was strikingly similar to one they’d already passed by twice before. Their escort pushed open the double doors of the chamber. He stepped aside to allow the women to enter into a long, narrow room with surprisingly high, arched ceilings, blackened by soot and smoke from years of exposure to the oily torches there. An aisle led towards the other end of the room where two tall objects sat on either side of a dais. A Breken of obvious authority and power sat on the platform on a chair carved from black wood.

Dearra assumed the man was Lord Falco, seeing as he was the master of the house. Falco was dressed richly, but had gems of varying shades and sizes woven into his braids instead of the usual teeth and bones worn by most Breken she had seen.

Four guards stood behind the master, two to his left, and two to his right. A woman of remarkable beauty sat at his feet on pillows of gaudy silk. Her hair was a mass of braids that flowed over her shoulders, looking like serpents caressing the flesh of their mistress. Like her master, her hair was also ornamented with gems, but hers were worn in a different fashion than most, and seemed to be used to decorate herself for no other reason than a desire to make herself appear more stunning. Her skin was flawless, and her eyes, though Breken black, seemed to almost sparkle. Her shoulders were bare, and she was wrapped in a gauzy material that just barely protected her modesty.

Her hand toyed with a silver chain that fell from her lap and trailed just out of sight behind a curtain. Dearra assumed the chain was attached to an animal and she remained alert, for whatever this woman would think to keep as a pet could not be anything but dangerous, and she did not wish to be surprised by anything that would attack at its mistress’s command. There was a second, equally suspicious curtain on the opposite side, and Dearra did not discount it simply because there were no tell-tale chains leading to its depths.

As Dearra passed by the two standing objects on either side of the aisle, she saw they were two very large and expensive mirrors. It seemed an odd sort of placement for such valuable objects.

The young women came to a stop. Carly swept into a graceful curtsy before Lord Falco, while Dearra simply nodded once in his direction, unwilling to do more than acknowledge she was simply aware of his existence.

Lord Falco ignored Dearra’s nod, but offered what appeared to be a very genuine smile to Carly. “Welcome to my home, maiden of Maj. I hope you did not find the trip too difficult,” he said.

“Not at all, Lord Falco. It was a welcome respite from the noise of Bandar. Khan saw us safely to your gates. Your own excellent guards brought us the rest of the way.”

“Khan. That must be the name of your horse. He is a magnificent animal. I would consider it an honor to purchase him from you. I can assure you I could provide something more suitable for you in exchange. I’m sure we could come to some sort of an agreement. Of course he is a valuable animal, but the trade could be beneficial to us both. Any loss you might suffer in the bargain could go a long way to compensate us for the care and feeding of the Maj boy we have been looking after.”

Dearra tensed at the mention of her brother, and Lord Falco was quick to notice her reaction. A grin lit his face and Dearra cursed her inability to better hide her thoughts.

Carly flicked a bit of dust from her sleeve and, in an almost bored tone, responded, “Oh, I couldn’t do that. Khan was a gift from my dear friend, Aesri. Very generous, Etrafarians are, but I wouldn’t want to make one angry by treating a gift of theirs so casually. Besides, as you said, Khan is an extraordinary animal. Surely he’s worth more than the life of a skinny, half-grown child.

“No, I really couldn’t make a bargain like that, but perhaps we could come to some sort of arrangement. You shouldn’t have to be out for the boy’s keep, we owe you at least that much.”

“Oh, dear,” Falco said with mock concern. “I
had
thought the child valuable to you. In truth, I was hoping we could do a bit of bargaining. Well, it is of no matter.” Falco turned to the woman sitting at his feet. “Mili,” he said, “you leave too much slack in the chain. It appears your pet may indeed be staying with us longer than I had anticipated. You had best start teaching it to behave.”

Mili’s smile was cold and forbidding as she responded. “Yes, Father,” she purred. She gave a yank on the chain, and Dearra tensed in readiness, but instead of the snarling beast she had imagined, her own brother was dragged from behind the curtain and made to sit at the mistress’s feet. He was dirty from head to toe, and he looked thinner than he should. The restraint had cut into his neck, but Dearra could tell the wound was new, which meant he had not worn the tether for long. This realization brought Dearra little comfort though, and she felt flames of anger begin to flicker to life in her eyes.

Dearra drew her sword and stepped briskly towards the seated girl. Rather than offer any defense, Mili twined her cruel fingers into Phillip’s hair and yanked him backwards until his cheek was pressed close to hers. She held a vicious-looking dagger, which seemed to appear from out of nowhere, beneath his chin. Mili hissed sharply, her eyes never leaving Dearra’s.

Lord Falco chuckled and leaned back in his chair. “So,” he said, “it appears there may be some bargaining to be done, after all.”

Carly gave a frustrated sigh, grabbed Dearra by the elbow, and pulled her back so she once again stood before Lord Falco. “So it seems,” Carly conceded.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, little one,” Lord Falco mused. “My spies have already informed me of your Lord Hugh’s eagerness to have his son returned to him.”

Mili had lowered the knife and was gently running her hand, absent-mindedly, through Pip’s hair, as if she were petting a beloved dog. “Why should he be so eager to have the return of this son, I wonder, when he already has such a manly daughter?” Mili taunted. “Perhaps he wishes to make this one over into a girl? Someone to take the chill from a father’s bones late at night?” She smiled callously at Dearra when she realized she’d so obviously wounded the girl-warrior. “Yes, that must be it. To have a female act so unwomanly as this one must be quite humiliating for him, indeed. Perhaps the men of Maj are so weak they encourage their females to play at being men. Maybe that is what they find…alluring.”

Dearra’s shoulders slumped a bit, and her face held a hint of pain at the well-aimed insults.

Carly laughed aloud, actually bending over and holding her sides in mirth.

“What is it?” Mili demanded. “What makes you laugh so?”

Carly straightened slowly and wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “I was just thinking that we Breken and Maj must be a lot more alike than you think, because the way Darius pants after Dearra brings a blush to my face. It’s a shame he had to go so far from home to find someone to interest him.”

Mili rose quickly, jerking the chain at Phillip’s neck as she did. “Fairy
bitch
!” she spat viciously. “You had best watch your tongue if you wish to keep it in your mouth for much longer.”

Carly was still as stone as she glared at Mili. The room grew icy cold, and Dearra’s hand gripped the hilt of her sword in anticipation.

“Enough!” Lord Falco boomed. “This accomplishes nothing! Mili! Remember your place!”

Mili slowly lowered herself back to her seat of stone, bowing her head in contrition to her father’s order, but her icy stare never wavered.

“What, then, do you demand?” Dearra said, her voice severe and proud, even to her own ears, though she was beginning to lose what little remained of her patience at the sight of her brother being so cruelly treated. “We people of Maj are not without means. Name your price, Falco, and be done with it.”

Carly remained unruffled by her companion’s outburst, and she never broke eye contact with Lord Falco while she waited for his answer.

Lord Falco met Carly’s steely gaze as he made his reply. “Ten thousand pieces of silver,” he flatly stated.

Carly couldn’t help the quick flit of a smile that dashed across her features. Ten thousand! They had expected at least twice that much, not to mention a lot of bargaining back and forth. Truth be told, they couldn’t have asked for a better outcome!

“And…” Lord Falco added slyly. His eyes slid from Carly’s and locked with Dearra’s before he continued. “I will of course have to insist on the return of my daughter’s beloved husband.”

Dearra was about to scream forth her protest, but Brin’s voice sliced through her thoughts to say,
Peace, Dearra,
he said, his voice almost pleading. He spoke only two words, but it was enough for Lord Falco’s brow to crease with confusion. After a moment his expression cleared again, and he seemed to be taking great pleasure in awaiting their response.

Carly had no idea what was keeping Dearra silent, but she thanked Brin, or Rah, or whoever it was that was preventing the situation from deteriorating further. “I will be most happy to relay your request to my Lord Hugh,” she said. “I’m sure you can understand that I do not have the authority to make such a bargain without his permission.”

“That seems most reasonable, but I would still feel much better if I could send a man of my own to represent me in the bargaining. Surely, you would grant me the same privilege I afforded you, allowing me to choose who will speak on my behalf?”

“Of course!” Carly quickly said, not wanting to be perceived as insulting the lord in any way.

“Can I be assured of his safety with you?” Falco asked. “The last time I sent my men, there was…well, I am told there was some sort of…accident, and I would not wish to lose another. If that were to happen I might be forced to do something unpleasant.”

Mili’s fingers curled tightly in Phillip’s hair; Phillip was unable to contain his small whimper.

“You have my word,” Dearra quietly stated. “I personally will vouch for the safety of your emissary.”

“Ah, Lady Dearra. It truly does my heart good to hear that I have your word?”

“You’ll forgive me, Lord Falco, if I find it hard to believe you even have a heart, let alone that there is anything good about it, but yes, you have my word.”

Falco let out a bray of genuine laughter and clapped his hands briskly together. “Excellent! My man is ready now. You may leave immediately.”

At the commanding clap of Lord Falco, the curtain on the left was swept aside.

Brin’s voice invaded Dearra’s thoughts once more to say a single word, which was more of a demand than a plea.
“Peace!”
he said.

A second flash of confusion flickered across the face of Lord Falco, but Dearra saw nothing but the cocky, smiling face of the chosen negotiator.

Jacob sauntered forward, basking in the horrified expression of the women before him. “Shall we go?” was all he said. As he turned to stroll from the hall, his cruel laughter echoed off the stone walls driving an arrow straight through Dearra’s heart.

Derek, one of the Maj sailors, had fallen ill with an abscessed tooth. Though the other men chided him for his weakness, it was eventually obvious to them that he truly did suffer. Taylor, another sailor, removed the tooth on the second day, which allowed the infection to drain a bit, and seemed to alleviate some of the pain, but by early on the third morning his face had transformed into a red, swollen, mask of misery.

The men searched through Dearra’s medical bag in her quarters, but they were unfamiliar with most of what they found. Garlic and mint could both be used to fight infection, and they had such distinct aromas that they’d be easy to identify, but Dearra might have mixed them with something more dangerous. Guessing which elixir might help was too risky a proposition, so Taylor decided to gather a few men and chance a journey to shore for the remedy they needed. Surely a city the size of Bandar would have several skilled apothecaries that would be only too happy to offer assistance, for the right amount of silver, of course.

Taylor brought the boat in close enough to port to make a quick run for the medicine they needed, but he had approached while it was still dark and hidden the boat in a small cove to give it some protection from prying eyes. He was taking a gamble, strictly against Hugh’s instructions, but one of the crewmen was ill, and there really was nothing else that could be done.

***

It had been a cold cramped night, waiting hidden in the boat’s bow, but Royce knew he stood no chance of stealing away with them once day came, especially with the giant, white wolf by his side. His father would be displeased, of course, but it would be worth the tanning he would receive to be free of the bobbing ship and to see the sites of Bandar. He had left a note where it would be found so the men would know where he had gone. Not that they would be likely to notice—the absence of one little boy was probably more likely to be enjoyed rather than questioned, at least for the time being.

When he was sure it was clear, Royce gradually slid the tarp away from his face and took a deep breath, only to wish he hadn’t when Bandar’s pungent smells assaulted his senses. Reo squirmed beneath him. The wolf was probably as anxious to be out of the boat as was he, Royce surmised. He slung a leg over the side of the boat, and his foot splashed in the shallow water near the gravelly shore. Reo bounded happily behind him. He took a moment to re-arrange the tarp, placing it back the way it was before so no one would suspect he’d ever been there.

Royce knew he didn’t have much time before the crew would return, so he moved speedily away from the small craft, his feet slapping the water noisily as he ran. It would have been easier to run on the shore, but he was smart enough to hide evidence of his passing. Taylor wasn’t the brightest of men, but even he might question foot and paw prints leading away from the beached craft. He didn’t really have far to go.

Some distance away from the boat, Royce stepped out of the water and climbed a rocky embankment by grasping at the meager vegetation along the edge. He pulled himself up enough to peer at the city that lay sprawled before him. There were tents and buildings and people and noise and filth and activity for as far as the eye could see. Suddenly, the prospect of trying to find his father didn’t seem like such a great idea. Royce feared he might be swallowed up whole if he dared wade in amidst the chaos. His heart pounded in his chest as he took the sight in. How long he lay there, he could not be sure, he was that overwhelmed by the sights and sounds of the city.

At last, common sense prevailed, and he slid back down the slope, running as fast as his legs could carry him back to the boat. Maybe, if he were lucky, he would be able to sneak back into his hiding space with no one the wiser. If it meant another cold night in hiding until they could slip free again, so be it. His strategy grew clearer in his mind the further his feet raced on. Soon his steps slowed, and then stopped altogether.

The waves gently lapped at the shoreline, obliterating any marks that might have been left in the sand, but the tide had not turned enough yet to completely erase the deep groove where their boat had once sat. Royce spun to scan the horizon, praying he would see Taylor scowling at him only a few yards from shore, but there was no sight of them.

Realization set in. They had returned to the ship. They had left him behind.

Royce sank to the gravely beach and simply stared, hoping for a miracle that would not come. Reo sat beside him, and batted at the boy with a massive paw. Royce looped his arms around the wolf’s neck and leaned in to take comfort from his presence.

“Well, boy,” Royce said, a slight waiver in his voice, “I guess we’re in for it now.”

Royce turned back towards Bandar, squared his shoulders, and took a tentative though resigned step.