"Of Humans and Elves, Part 8" by Ben Cameron

Of Changes and Ships

      The desert air bit at her skin, whipping her robes and hair out behind her.  She, however, stood still on the precipice, heedless of the lethal fall below her.  Behind her lay the body of Iadin, her friend, on an alter conjoined with the rock face.  The darkening landscape she stared out across, presided over by the blood-red streaked horizon, was a fitting tribute to the death of yet one more who had trusted her.

      They trusted her, he had trusted her, and she owed them her support, yet she sent them only to their deaths.  Over the centuries, she had seen their numbers swell and ebb, like the flow of the distant oceans, but they had gradually increased and now she stood poised to begin to reclaim the land stolen from them.

      In her role as ruler and guardian, she had seen atrocities committed against her and hers that none should ever have to watch, let alone be subject to.  Atrocities committed in the name of false gods and beliefs against her people.

      As the body lying behind her disintegrated with the fading light and its binding magic, her anger grew.  How dare they ignore her people.  Let alone her.

      “Your death shall not go unheeded, Iadin.  That I promise, here and now.”  Her words were magnified and projected out across the desert plains by the lamenting wind, belying her miniscule size in comparison to the cliff she teetered on.

      She spun back to the altar and proffered her arm to the cloaked man waiting beside her.  She would ensure that Iadin’s death was not in vain.

      Together, they descended the stairs leading down into the hewn rock.  The man conjured a small ball of light before him, yet his face, covered by his hood, remained shadowed despite the steady source of illumination.

      He clenched his fist as they approached the first cavern, extinguishing the ball of light.  In its place, flickering flames hidden in deep recesses lit the room.  The scarlet shadows playing against the rough, twisted walls calmed her slightly.  When she’d first come to this place, the walls had disturbed her; their malicious edges invading her dreams at night.  Now they were a comfort.  A way to escape the hidden savageries of the outside world.  Here, there was no deception - everything was cruel.  There was no other way for life to endure in a desert.

      Still, that outside world existed, and if her people were to have freedom, they must have a place to go.

      “We need to increase our efforts.  We cannot continue living like this, separated from our homeland.”  She was willing and ready for yet another full night huddled over books and scrolls, though she had been weakened considerably last time.

      “Caution, young one.  The snake does not fully extend itself, but leaves itself coiled for times of desperate need.”

      “Then what would you have me do?  Sit here?  Ishtarill will not concede by us sitting still.”  She turned on her heels to face him, seeking out his gaze in the darkened recesses of his garments.

      “If need be, yes.  It will work out, have trust in me and the power of the Ancients.”

~ * ~

      “Ride, fools!”

      Terraic urged them onwards, pushing his horse as fast as the ground underfoot permitted. In front of him rode Niell and Inari, their saddlebags, strapped hurriedly to their saddles, bumping rhythmically against their legs.

      Behind them came the royal guards.

      The sound of hooves on the ground was the only warning for those with business in the palace.  They threw themselves to one side as the three horses charged out of the stables towards the looming gates, racing wildly through the discarded wares of scared merchants.

      Letting his horse have its head, Niell glanced towards the gates.  Everything depended on timing; if they couldn’t get beneath the portcullis before it closed… he didn’t have time to think about that.

      He prayed to no god in particular that they make it through those sixpace-thick walls.  The walls came closer, and urging his steed on ever faster, despite the dangerous conditions, Niell caught the flurry of activity in the guardhouse.

      “King’s business!  Coming through!”  Inari called out over the merchants, diplomats and slaves, her voice clearing their path ahead.

      The sound of complaining metal signalled the slow descent of the portcullis.

      “Faster!”  Terraic yelled out.

      Niell dug his heels in harder.  He could feel the horse’s chest contracting with every laboured breath and the wind rushing past his ears.

      All three were forced to duck their heads as they sped beneath the gates, and then they were under and out of the palace’s external walls.

      The Inner Circle, where the patricians lived, passed by in a flurry of arabesque statues and marble walls as they raced down the main street to the Merchants’ Quarter.  Men in lavish robes threw up curses as their ostentatious wives shrieked at the trio’s passing.

      “Left, Niell.  Left here!”  Terraic’s voice broke through the sound of metal horseshoes striking rock.

      Niell’s horse skittered on the uneven paving, its hoofs sending pebbles and sparks flying into the air and the nearby pedestrians.  The colours of drying washing and local business signs flashed past Niell as they galloped around another corner to the docks.

      Though none seemed to be pursuing, their pace went unchecked.  Sliding dangerously around one last corner, the giant gates of Kailas neared.  Those waiting to enter Kailas grabbed their belongings and hastily vacated the entrance, leaving Niell, Inari and Terraic free to burst past the White Hands, one after another.

      A man called out behind them.  Niell looked back to see the priest’s staff enveloped in green light.  Had he blinked, he would have missed the bolt of pure energy twist its way up towards the pyrrha stone and shoot like an arrow at Terraic’s back.  It literally exploded against the air behind them, green sparks showering the nearby merchants.  Before he turned the corner, Niell witnessed the resultant chaos as many a donkey bucked to the stench of their own singed hair.

      Terraic, unharmed, took the lead once out of the city but slowed their pace to rest their mounts as much as to permit easier navigation.  The ramshackle buildings and beggars lining the roadside made it difficult, if not impossible, for anything more than a slow canter.

      “We have passage with an old friend of mine at the docks,” called Terraic.

      Pushing their way through the incessant crowds and cursing sailors, Niell guided his mount over the docks’ rickety pontoons, following Terraic’s own dark-haired steed.

      The Akkadian, a three-masted ocean-going vessel, was clearly ready for departure.  Only the gangplank and two ropes held the boat to the tier and it hovered dangerously near its waterline.  The captain, broad-shouldered and bulky from muscle more than anything else, saw them approaching.

      “Ho Terraic!  You’re here at last, an’ you brought yer friends.  I was beginning to think ye’d never come and that the tides would force me off.”

      Terraic waited till he neared closer to the thirty and fivepace vessel.  “The tides mean little to you, friend.  You could have left at low-tide and still made it out easily.  Now, are you going to help me bring my horse aboard?”

      He moved gracefully, belying his build, and grasped the horse’s reins, the scars running down his arms rippling as he did so.  “You two,” he pointed to two nearby sailors eyeing the newcomers.  “Yer mothers may have never taught you manners, but pretend like ye have some.  Help ‘is friends on board.”

      “You might want to get this ship moving sometime soon, Dakan.”  Terraic nodded behind to the chaos as both White Hands and royal guards pushed aside sailors, merchants and the destitute alike as they rushed towards the Akkadian.

      “This be the last time I offer free passage to ye.”  He cursed good-naturedly and began yelling seemingly random orders to his sailors in language Niell despaired at ever understanding.

      In the time it took for their horses to be stowed away properly, they had left the docks long behind.  Dakan stood at the wheel, his long hair flowing behind him in the wind.  Niell revelled in the fresh air; its scent the very smell of freedom.

      “Ye two going stand there like stunned whales, or introduce yourselves?”

      Terraic laughed, the first time Niell had heard him laugh.  Apparently the sea air did him good as well.  “You’d better answer him; Dakan may be a sailor but he doesn’t take to well to rudeness.”

      “My name’s Niell.”

      “Have you no other name, lad?  Just Niell?”  Dakan laughed, deep and heartily.

      Niell stared at him, locking eyes.  “Actually, no.  Just Niell.”  This wasn’t getting off to a good start.

      “Feisty, eh?  Never mind laddie, a surname ain’t ever been that important on the sea.” 

      Before Niell could raise a complaint at being called ‘laddie’, Inari interjected, “Inari.  My name’s Inari.”

      “What?  Ye can’t both have no surname.  Are ye collecting runaways now, Terraic?”  He laughed again, his mouth widening into a full smile revealing his various broken teeth from encounters on the seas.

      Terraic shook his head, smiling in anticipation.

      “If you’re desperate to know, Soleil.”  She stared nonchalantly back at the receding harbour of Kailas.

      Dakan immediately stopped laughing.  “Well throw me to the deeps.  Yer the king’s girl?  Terraic, this be true?”

      “Oh, most definitely, Dakan.  She’s the sole descendant of the royal line of Soleil.”  Terraic had a smile on his face, pleased Inari had managed to unsettle his old friend.

       He stopped for a moment, and Niell sensed a deep intellect beyond the physicality of his muscles and sailor’s language.  “I trust ye an’ all, Terraic, but is this safe?  Ye know the dangers this could cause?  I ain’t going to endanger my ship and men needlessly.”

      “It’s safe, no need to worry.  I wouldn’t risk you or the Akkadian.”

      Niell quickly grew bored as the talk headed off on a tangent to knots, rigging and the weather.  In the far distance, magnificent Kailas and her port were growing ever smaller.  Over the waves, beneath the shining sun, Niell caught a glimpse of a pair of islands.  To the east, outlined against the brilliant sky, were the steep cliffs of the Ishtarian coastline.

      The boat itself, though, was the most interesting.  Sailors moved about the deck and rigging, going through the steps of a complex, loud and indecipherable dance.  To Niell, it seemed utterly random, yet the Akkadian was one of the fastest ships in Ishtar.  It sliced through the waves cleanly, rocking gently as the scent of salt pushed the boat ever further south.

      Over the unruly calls of the seamen and the cries of the ever hopeful seagulls winging along behind the ship, Niell spoke to Terraic.  “Is there somewhere private we can talk?  I need to ask a few questions.”

      “None can hear us here, besides Dakan, and whatever needs to be said can be said to his ears.”

      “He has a point, lad.  Besides, tis bad luck to talk behind the captain’s back – said it will persuade the winds to change.”

      Inari moved closer from the edge of the boat where she’d been watching the white-capped waves racing past.  Niell nodded at her, including her in the group and she moved in a little closer.

      “Alright, but you told me to…  Who are you, Terraic?  What are you?”

      Whatever he was expecting, it wasn’t mirth.  That same deep laugh echoed forth from Dakan’s barrel-chest once again.  “And you said he’s been with you how many months?  You got a live un there, Terraic.  Mark my words.”

      Even Terraic managed a small smile.  “Why not ask yourself that same question?”

      Niell caught Terraic’s wink to Inari.  He was not overly annoyed, though.  He’d suspected she’d known for a while, though he mentally reminded himself to ask for her opinion next time he needed it.

      “That was my next question.  But I want an answer to this one first, and you no longer have a reason not to tell me – I’m ready to hear it.” 

      Again, it was Dakan who answered in Terraic’s place.  “Of course he ain’t human, lad.  Not in the real sense of the word.  And neither, I suspect, is anyone here besides yon missy.”

      Niell stared at Dakan, immediately understanding what he was implying.

      “Oh yes, Niell.  Dakan’s as much human as I am.  You don’t believe anyone could move a ship as fast as Dakan does without eliciting the aid of nature along the way, do you?”

      The wind whipped their words up above the sails.  The seamen around continued their endless job of managing the ship whilst the group of four, crowded around the wheel, broke royal edict and social custom.

      Niell spoke quickly, his mind collecting little bits of information as he went.  “I… we… are the Promised, aren’t we?  Why else could I conjure the fire?  And that makes you one of the Promised too.  And none know about it, at least,” he glanced at Inari,  “none who are going to report it.”

      Both Dakan and Terraic nodded to him in turn.  Niell turned to Inari.  “And you?  You obviously know about Terraic.  Does knowing about me, now, change anything?”

      “Why do you think I brought you to Terraic, Niell?  Merely knowing it now, as opposed to suspecting it, changes nothing.  The Promised are no more evil than a regular Ishtarian, although Almah tries to make them out to be so.”

      “But why have I no memories?  Why the dreams that still haunt my dreams?  Why my slavery…why me?”

      Terraic took Niell gently by the shoulder and led him towards the side of the Akkadian.  Together, they stared out across the expanse of green-blue waves rollicking beneath the afternoon sun.

      “There’s something you must understand.  Your memories were taken away at the same time you were outcast, the same as all of the Promised in Ishtar.  You will never be welcome, either here or there.

      “Beyond that, not everything can be understood or even known at once, Niell.  Even I’m not sure yet of the answers to those questions.  I have suspicions, yes, but nothing definite and false impressions can be just as dangerous as lies sometimes.  Just as this ocean must be crossed one league at a time and no other way, so must we go about finding the truth.

      “And sometime we must begin your training.  Not here, fire is dangerous on a ship, even when accompanied by a master of the wind and waves the likes of Dakan, but perhaps when we reach Syracuse.  I have a few acquaintances there who could be of some help.”

~ * ~

      His eyes magically enhanced by the pyrrha stone glowing in his hand, Voice Viminal stood on one of the many balconies of the palace, staring down at the hunted leaving the city.

      He gripped the black stone’s tightly, venting his rage on its cold edges at their escape. Still, he reasoned with himself, they would not get far.  They could hardly be expected to make it Syracuse and back and even if they did, all his Hands across Ishtar would know them for the traitors they are.

      It was a shame Niell would be wasted - he could have gone far – but in the overall scheme of things, it was a price he was willing to concede for the demise of the Augers.