Zarryiostrom Main Page
Chapter Three
“Tensions”
.......... The first thing Phaedron, Earl of Daane, noticed was the smell. The sharp tang of salt water filled his nostrils, and he breathed deeply to take in as much as possible. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted his younger half-brother shaking his head in amusement. Phaedron turned his horse slightly towards his grinning sibling, gave him a mock-severe look, and said,
.......... “Is there something you find amusing, Valeriad?” Crown Prince Valeriad, unrepentant, grinned even wider and replied,
.......... “You. I can always tell when we’re getting close to the ocean. You get this look on your face of smug satisfaction, and then snort in as much air as you can. I don’t understand why you do it: the air smells exactly the same here as it did fifty yards ago.” As Valeriad spoke, Phaedron began shaking his head in feigned sorrow.
.......... “Spoken like the heathen fire mage you are. You spend too much time setting things ablaze. It has probably affected your sense of smell. Too much sulfur or something. I feel sorry for you. Truly sorry.” Valeriad laughed, his long white hair flowing with the movement.
.......... “There’s nothing wrong with my sense of smell at all, Phaedron. In fact, my keen nose has detected something distasteful nearby. VERY nearby.” He cocked his head as if contemplating something, took three delicate sniffs, then stated,
.......... “Can’t quite make it out. Pretty rotten though.” He paused for effect, and then took a significant look toward Phaedron.
.......... “Say…are you sitting upwind?” He leaned closer, took a much deeper sniff, and then shuddered dramatically.
.......... “Never mind. I think I found the source.” Phaedron laughed brightly and said,
.......... “You’re probably right. Six days on a saddle will do that to you.” Valeriad simply replied,
.......... “Oh, I don’t think six days in a saddle would be enough to account for a smell that bad. I think it took much longer. In fact, I think this particular stench needed time to marinate.” Phaedron laughed again.
.......... “Marinate? That word had three syllables. I’m proud of you! Your tutors must have needed a lot of treats to train you. I think they deserve a raise. Or a medal. Pretty soon they might have you housebroken!” Before Valeriad could phrase an adequate reply, a soft, melodic voice interrupted their conversation.
.......... “Boys, that will be quite enough. Six days of your incessant bickering and one-upsmanship is wearying.” Both boys turned to look at the speaker and murmured
.......... “Yes, Mother.” But as they turned back to look towards their destination, a bright expression crossed Phaedron’s face. Before Valeriad could ask, Phaedron blurted out
.......... “Statues! That’s it! They deserve statues!”
Queen Aveliad of Dakkadia shook her head in exasperation as the two young men launched right back into their never-ending exchange of witty repartee and mutual insults as if she had never spoken. Riding next to her was her youngest child, the Princess Deirdre, who was listening to her brothers insult each other, and giggling when a particularly telling blow struck home. Any time she laughed, the boys would press home the point to elicit even greater laughter from the younger sister they both adored. Aveliad suspected that if walking barefoot on crushed glass would have made the golden-haired princess laugh, either of her sons would have gladly done it again and again just to please her. The thought made her smile.
The smile was fleeting however, for though she loved her children with all her heart, she caught sight of her husband riding towards them from the front of the column and all happiness seemed to drain right out of her. She reached up unconsciously, as she had done countless times before, and checked to see that the white enameled mask that covered her eyes was in place. The mask was graceful and elegant, adorned with feathers and jewels, but it seemed out of place anywhere except a court ball or an opera. Despite this, she never removed the mask outside of her own bedchambers; chambers she did not share with her husband.
***
King Madari Dhaerhan of Dakkadia pretended that he didn’t see his wife checking her mask. He had long since stopped caring that she chose to hide her beauty as much as possible around him. What did that matter? Everyone already knew that she belonged to him, and the mask simply made her more alluring, if indeed that was possible. Aveliad was half-Fae, but the exotic beauty of her Fae half had been leavened perfectly by her human blood. She may have been the most exquisite woman in the world, but for him she was ice, as cold and lifeless in bed as the alabaster her skin so richly emulated. He had been smitten with her the day he had met her, and it didn’t matter in the slightest that she had belonged to another. He had pursued her with single-minded determination, and when that had failed he had turned to…other devices. The end result was his marriage to the most beautiful woman in the world. What mattered then the means?
The three children saw him approaching and their faces spoke volumes. Phaedron, Aveliad’s child of her first marriage and the eldest at 20 years, closed his mouth and assumed a rigid posture that mirrored his mother almost perfectly. That boy had learned his lessons well from his mother, and Madari fought down a killing rage. The ungrateful wretch was lucky that he hadn’t been killed at birth. Madari had considered it when he learned his future wife was with child from her first marriage, but women were always unpredictable about children. Had he killed the child he might have woken up with a dagger in his heart—or worse—and wouldn’t that be fun? The other two children were different. Valeriad, Madari’s only son and 17 years of age, smiled when he saw who was approaching and raised his hand in greeting. Deirdre smiled as well at the father who doted on her and waved vigorously. At 14 years old, Deirdre was becoming more beautiful by the day. Madari smiled back at the child, thinking to himself that one day she would make a fine wife for some noble, and a strong alliance for Dakkadia.
That was the true reason for this trip. The island Kingdom of Illymar, the wealthiest and most powerful of all the lands, had issued invitations to all of the ruling houses to attend the ceremony marking the Ascension of Zarryiosiad and the end of the rule of the Fae’rohs and their allies the Elves. It had been two thousand five hundred years since all of the ruling families of the Fae’rohs had been incinerated in dragon’s fire, and the humans had begun to build their own civilization from scratch. Humans had been slaves then, forced to work in the quarries and the farms to provide the ruling elite with anything they desired. The Fae’rohs, the most powerful of the Fae, had made their slaves create giant ziggurats out of stone. Entire generations of slaves had worked and died to make these grand structures, visible even today. The celebration commemorating the downfall of the fae’rohs and their allies would last weeks, and all of the ruling houses would be there. Alliances would be made or broken in that time. Marriages would be arranged. Power would be gained or lost. Madari himself hoped that he could arrange marriages for his children that would bring even greater power to Dakkadia than he had already gained. He desperately craved the respect and attention his house deserved but had yet to achieve.
As his charger reached his family’s position in the column, he nodded to his children and said,
.......... “We are nearing the port. Outriders have already informed me that Lady Prudence Daemira is already awaiting us with the Sovereign. Do not get lost, do not wander off, and do not cause trouble. I do not want you to slow our departure by a single second. Am I clearly understood?” Phaedron nodded solemnly, and Valeriad touched his heart with his right hand in the traditional Dakkadian salute. Deirdre, clearly excited, could hold silent no longer and blurted out,
.......... “Father, I still can’t believe we are going to sail with the Corsair herself! I can’t wait to meet her! She’s the most famous pirate in the entire world!” The obvious excitement in Deirdre’s voice made Valeriad laugh once, before he covered his mouth with his hand, shining eyes and shaking chest giving away his silent laughter. Phaedron lost his stony gaze and covered his eyes, a wide grin visible under his hand while he too shook with suppressed mirth. Deirdre didn’t notice her brother’s reactions, for all of her attention was focused on her father. Madari turned a stony gaze toward Valeriad who instantly stopped laughing and assumed an admirably grave expression.
.......... “It’s ‘privateer’ not ‘pirate’, sweetling. And be careful how you use that word. Lady Prudence is not a pirate at all; she’s a court-sponsored privateer. That means she sails under the flag of Dakkadia and is able to attack merchant vessels and capture prizes legally. Privateers are soldiers. Pirates are criminals. Remember that, and remember as well that we are merely guests aboard her vessel. Lady Prudence has graciously allowed us to make use of her ship to ferry us to and from the Convocation, but no part of our arrangement says that she has to waste her time answering your questions. When we set sail aboard the Sovereign she is its absolute ruler. Obey her as if she were a queen. Make any trouble for her and she’ll toss you overboard and let you swim home.” He thought for a second then added,
.......... “And I’ll let her!” Deirdre nodded solemnly, wide eyes not changing in the slightest.
.......... “Phaedron, Valeriad, you will comport yourselves with absolute dignity. Our house isn’t exactly on the best terms with the Daemira, and I had to call in a lot of favors to get her to agree to bring us to Illymar. I want nothing at all to jeopardize our arrangement. It is more important than you know for us to put our best foot forward at this meeting. Appearances are everything.” Valeriad nodded to his father, but Phaedron sat unmoving, his posture and expression a mirror image of his mother. Madari let a little of his anger show in his voice when he looked directly at Phaedron and growled,
.......... “Am I understood?” Phaedron, unphased by the implied threat, merely inclined his head in the slightest of nods. Madari stared at him for a minute longer, then turned his black charger back toward the front of the line and urged it into a canter.
Valeriad rounded on his half-brother, all traces of mirth gone in an angry frown, and he blurted,
“Why can’t you even try to get along with him? He’s a great man and a great father, and you refuse to see that! Nothing he does is good enough for you!” Phaedron turned a cold gaze upon his younger sibling and said,
.......... “This is not an argument that we should be having in public. To you he is a great man and a great father. To me, he is the man that married my mother against her will, before my father’s body was even cold. I’ll never forgive him for that, and I’ll never forget it either. Your devotion to him blinds you to his reality, Val. He’s a tyrant, and the people hate and fear him. People that go against his wishes disappear, or are found dead of ‘explainable circumstances’ and he remains untouched. His father, and both of his older brothers died of ‘mysterious’ circumstances, clearing the way for him to attain the throne. I don’t appreciate his tactics, and I refuse to acknowledge him as a ‘father’. I had a father, and he’s as dead as everyone else that gets in Madari’s way.”
At that, Valeriad’s eyes began to glow red, and his hands burst into flame, even as Phaedron spoke. Before he could loose his magic on his half-brother, Phaedron’s eyes turned a shimmering blue, and a white aura of frigid air surrounded him. At 17, Valeriad Dhaerhan was already an extremely powerful fire mage, but Phaedron was an even more powerful water mage, and his frost shield would easily stop even the most powerful fireball that Valeriad could generate. Phaedron made no attempt to attack though, and Valeriad let his anger fade as he extinguished the flames.
.......... “I’m sorry, Phaedron. I didn’t mean to threaten you like that. I just got so angry that I couldn’t see straight.” The frost aura surrounding Phaedron dissipated, and he gave his younger sibling a rueful smile.
.......... “There’s nothing to forgive, Val. I spoke out of turn, and it’s mine to apologize. I humbly beg your forgiveness for the insults and insinuations that I made about your father. I won’t let it happen again.” Valeriad grinned and said,
.......... “Yes you will, but I promise not to burn you to a crisp because of it.” Phaedron snorted and said,
.......... “As if you could.”
***
King Madari Dhaerhan rode to the front of the column, and slowed his charger when he reached the front. A slim figure mounted on a black stallion nodded to him, long black hair perfectly arranged with not a single strand out of place despite the six long days on the road. Dressed in a fine black velvet robe embroidered in thread-of-silver, he looked every inch the powerful mage Madari knew him to be. To Madari’s unrefined tastes, Morvandis seemed to be almost foppish, but he knew better than to make the mistake of judging the mage’s character by his clothing. Madari had seen the iron fist concealed by the velvet glove and knew never to underestimate its power, or it’s cunning. Morvandis was the Mage-Lord of House Dhaerhan, and wielded more power than any other three mages in the world combined. It was hard to tell actually, because no other mage in the world had dared to challenge him directly. Madari couldn’t evoke at all, but Morvandis more than made up for it.
“We will be there in one quarter of an hour, Your Majesty.” Morvandis never wasted breath on pleasantries or unnecessary conversation. Madari admired that about Morvandis. He always went directly to the heart of any matter, with no evasion or prevarication. Madari himself was like that, but in action, not word. Plain spoken and direct, he had been accused more than once of being coarse. As the absolute ruler of Dakkadia he answered to no one, and if someone took umbrage to his words, it mattered less than nothing to him.
.......... “I want your oath that there will be no trouble between you and Daemira’s pet mages, Morvandis. This is too important to risk on personal vendettas. The Sovereign is our most visible and successful privateer. Even Illymar fears and respects her power. Arriving aboard her sends exactly the message I want to convey to every noble at the gathering, and if that means you have to spend a few days in the presence of a man you hate, you’ll just have to bear it.” Madari turned a hard eye on his mage, and Morvandis inclined his head in the barest of nods.
.......... “For myself, you have my oath that I will cause no trouble. The problems I have with Cahrick are philosophical in nature. It is true that we hold no love for each other, but I feel no need to escalate the conflict between us. Had I been so inclined, I could have killed him outright years ago. I think he knows this, and is willing to let the situation stand as is. For all his faults, he is not always a fool. And he doesn’t want to die…especially not at my hands.” Madari snorted in amusement. That was true enough. The “philosophical” problems the two mages had were quite simple: Cahrick thought Morvandis a murderous bastard, and Morvandis thought of Cahrick as a weak-willed fool. The problem was that several years ago, Cahrick had made a very drunken—and very public—speech implicating Morvandis for the murder of the Crown Prince of Dakkadia. Everyone who heard the speech dismissed it as the ramblings of a man too far into his cups, but Morvandis had heard the entire tale from one of his informants and had not been pleased...to put it mildly. He had ordered Cahrick’s immediate arrest, but the water mage had somehow gotten word of the warrant and fled the port before his hangover had even cleared. After that, he had found powerful patrons to ward him, and more importantly, he had kept his big mouth shut. To this day Cahrick claimed that he couldn’t remember what he had said to make an enemy of Morvandis, but Morvandis had never been known for his kind and forgiving nature. Madari knew his mage very well indeed: Cahrick would pay for his transgression some day. Morvandis never forgave.
* * *
.......... Cahrick Rantrefal wasn’t a happy man. As he stared intently at the half-empty bottle of rum sitting next to him, he cursed his miserable lot in life for the thousandth time.
.......... “I’m a dead man. Dead. Cold and dead. Might as well slit my own throat.” Even as he said it, he knew he didn’t mean it. He would never give Morvandis the pleasure of seeing him dead at his own hand. As he reached for the bottle to try once again to drown his misery, a hand clapped him hard on the back.
.......... “Time to go, old man. Cap’n wants you on board…” The speaker didn’t have time to finish, as several things happened at once. Cahrick hadn’t even heard the words at all, simply reacting in shock and blind terror to the jarring blow. He simultaneously screamed, cursed, tried to stand up and managed to send his stool, his bottle, and his glass flying away in different directions as if shot from a cannon. He spun around quickly, grabbing his heart and gasping, and several more things happened. The bottle and glass landed in the middle of a table populated by truly unsavory characters, and all of them leapt to their feet while drawing daggers, blackjacks, and suddenly broken bottles. The stool landed in the middle of another group of miscreants—equally unsavory—with similar results. The two groups whirled around looking for the poor, unfortunate, soon-to-be-dead soul stupid enough to provoke them, and caught sight of each other, weapons drawn. Both sides drew the appropriate conclusion, and with blood-curdling screams battle was joined. Cahrick didn’t even notice. Still clutching his heart which was trying to leap right out of his chest, he caught sight of his best friend and shipmate, Rory Sornin staring at him in shock. When Cahrick could finally speak he shouted,
.......... “Are you trying to kill me?” Rory ducked a flying bottle and shouted back,
.......... “No! Cap’n wants all hands on board immediately! I came to fetch you!” A barmaid wielding a cudgel fell against him and he pushed her back into the fray without a moment’s pause. Cahrick shot his friend a murderous look and bellowed,
.......... “I’m not going! I already told the Cap’n that! I’ve spent the last 20 years avoiding that blackguard, and now she wants me to be on the same ship with him? I’m no fool! I’m running as far away as I can! I don’t want him within miles of me!” Rory shook his head and said,
.......... “Too late for that! The King and his entourage are entering the city even as we speak. If you really wanted to run away, you should have done it days ago! So now you have two choices: either you get back to the ship and trust the Cap’n, or you die like a dog! Which is it going to be?” As Rory made his point, a large hand clamped onto his shoulder and spun him around suddenly. The large sailor covered in scars and tattoos had a balled fist ready and had already begun to swing when Cahrick grabbed a bottle and broke it over the sailor’s head. The suddenly boneless sailor dropped to the floor instantly.
.......... “Let’s go.” Cahrick was no fool. He’d known that running wasn’t the answer days ago, and that if he forsook the captain’s protection now he really would be as good as dead.
........The two of them forced their way through the melee, finally making it to the unhinged door. The brawl had already spilled onto the street, and people were joining in left and right. The fight was rapidly turning into a full-scale riot, and they both wondered how in the hell they were supposed to get to the ship through this.
.......... “Wonder what started the fight this time?” asked a bewildered Cahrick to an incredulous Rory. Rory didn’t bother to answer. He simply grabbed Cahrick’s collar and dragged him bodily towards the docks.
(c) Tina A. Thomas and Steven C. Plagman.
End of Chapter Three
*
Zarryiostrom Main Page
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Click here to read Chapter Two
Click here to read Chapter Three
Click here to read Chapter Four
Click here to read Chapter Five
Click here to read Chapter Six
Click here to read Chapter Seven
Click here to read Chapter Nine
Click here to read Chapter Ten
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