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|Ermmm, yeah, my decription here is going to suck so it's better if you just read it. =P||
The rain poured down from the black-tinged clouds. Peering out from his tent, Sawyer saw that the weather had changed for the worse. It was getting colder now too. He saw Tayla walking towards his tent. As she walked into the tent, she gave him a small smile.
“You’re soaking,” said Sawyer.
“What can I say?” she replied smiling to him. “I like the rain.”
“I can see that. Would you like another dress? I think I have one somewhere.”
“Yes, please, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“Not at all,” answered Sawyer, opening the chest by the tall mirror.
After rummaging around for a while, he pulled out a long, red dress. Sawyer handed the dress to her and turned around. Tayla quickly stripped and then slipped on the new dress.
“What shall I do with this dress?” Tayla asked.
Sawyer turned back to face Tayla and she handed him the soggy dress. He laid it on top of the chest and went to sit down on the blankets and velvet cushions.
“Please, come and sit.”
“Thank you,” replied Tayla, joining him. “So, did you complete your business in the end?”
“Yes and how odious it was!”
“Why? What were you doing?”
“I had to check over all that we gained on our last raid. It could have been over quickly, but some of the council are complete stuffed shirts and said that I had to fill out the proper paper work.”
“Why do you have such people on your council if you dislike them so much?”
“It’s not a matter of want, it’s a matter of need,” he explained. “You see, people listen to them and if they work for me then, in retrospect, the people listen to me.”
“Ingenious,” Tayla said, with a small smile.
The two sat in silence for a few minutes, and then Tayla said, “Um, Sawyer?”
Sawyer turned his head towards her in acknowledgment.
“I was just wondering; do you have any books that I could borrow?”
“As a matter of fact I do. Most of the people around here don’t read, so I get most of the books we find in raids.”
“Do you have any books about the Ogriain wars?”
“I have only one and, you’re in luck, I’ve just finished reading it,” answered Sawyer, picking up a large, brown, leather-bound book and handing it to Tayla.
“Thank you, I’ll be happy to have something to do until Chanandor has made my sword. How much longer do you think he’ll take?”
“It’ll be at least another day; when Chanandor makes a sword, it has to be perfect.”
“A perfectionist. Reminds me of someone,” Tayla said smiling.
“What was that, cousin?” said Sawyer as he grinned back at her.
“I said it will give me time to read some of this book.”
“I thought that was what you’d said,” he replied. “I didn’t know you liked to read.”
“I don’t that much. I just wanted learn more about Simarlian, after all he did help start the Ogriain wars. I’m going to go and read this in my tent. See you.”
Sawyer watched his cousin leave and knew that she would find nothing useful in that book; he hadn’t either.
The day had been a hard one for Nanavi. As well as her normal duties she had had to avoid most people in case Abram had asked after her. She would have to find a way out of this situation, but how? After all, she couldn’t avoid Abram forever. She rounded a corner and opened the door to the kitchens, hoping that there was no one in there.
To Nanavi’s relief, there was no one inside. She walked to the nearest surface, on top of which was a loaf of bread. Nanavi picked up a bread knife and cut a slice from the loaf. She chose a small wedge of cheese and sliced a quarter of it up. Nanavi picked her food up and went to sit down at a small table. Slowly she ate the bread and then the cheese.
When she finished, Nanavi brushed the crumbs from her hands and walked to the door. She stopped just before she reached it, hearing the voices on the other side of it. Quickly Nanavi turned and looked around for somewhere that she could hide. Finding nothing obvious, she opened a cupboard door and, though it would be a tight squeeze, she found that she could fit inside. Once inside, Nanavi closed the door and listened for the voices that, by the sound of it, had just entered the room.
“-For the last time, I don’t know where she is.”
“Well, it’s not normal for you not to, Tsara,” said a man’s voice.
“Yes, well, I just haven’t seen her. Just because we’re both maids doesn’t mean I automatically know where she is every second of the day.”
She heard a disappointed sigh.
“Well, if you do happen to see Nanavi, tell her that Abram wants to see her.”
“Fine, though I’m sure you would be better off asking someone else because I’m going to my room as soon as I’ve finished my dinner,” answered Tsara.
Nanavi heard the door open and close as the man left the room. She pushed the door open and climbed out from her cupboard.
Tsara did not look surprised but raised her eyebrows and said, “So that’s where you’ve been hiding, is it?”
“Only since you and Emerin came in here,” replied Nanavi.
“Well, I suppose you heard what he said?”
“Ah, yes, I heard exactly what he said.”
“And? Why does Abram want to see you?” Tsara asked as she tucked her cropped brown hair behind her ears.
“It is no good reason, I can tell you that.”
“I’d rather not talk about it, but I’m trying to avoid Abram for more reasons than the usual.”
“I still think that your usual reason is an absurd reason for avoiding him, after all I’m also Kiratze-”
“You know very well that my reason does most emphatically not include you, Tsara.”
“I know, but he likes you, and I think that you should give him a chance,” Tsara said.
“How many times must we have this conversation? Firstly I despise all Kiratze men, secondly he’s not a nice person and finally, it is very clear what his intentions are; especially when he’s drunk.”
“When did you see him drunk?”
Tsara blinked her deep-set green eyes and looked closely at Nanavi. After years of working with her, Nanavi knew that Tsara loved any sort of gossip she could get her hands on and it was rare that Nanavi could provide her with any.
“Last night, but I told you I didn’t want to talk about it.”
“Okay then, we won’t,” she said, though she sounded disappointed.
“Listen, would it be alright if I stayed with you for awhile? Just until I can get things sorted out?”
“Erm... Sure, just go to your room now and get your things. I’ll meet you in my room. But you know you’re not going to be able to hide forever-”
“Thank you so much, Tsara, and I know. See you later.”
Nanavi smiled at Tsara, then walked quickly back to her room. She heard footsteps behind her and her pace quickened to almost a run. After a while the footsteps faded and Nanavi slipped into her room. It didn’t take Nanavi very long to gather her things and when she had, she almost made it to the door before a loud rap, rap, rap interrupted her. Nanavi kept silent; hoping that whoever was at the door would think she wasn’t inside. The knock came again and Nanavi moved towards her bed and silently put down her things.
Nanavi was hoping that they would just leave now, but unfortunately for her, the doorknob turned and the door opened wide. Abram stepped inside. When she saw him, Nanavi didn’t know how to react. She really wanted to punch him; but what would happen if she did? It would make her situation even worse than it already was. Nanavi couldn’t decide what to do and ended up just standing where she was.
Abram bowed to her and asked with a bemused expression, “Going somewhere?”
Nanavi didn’t answer.
“Um, listen, I came here to apologise for my behaviour last night. I-I know I was wrong, but I was a little... erm... intoxicated... but I really am sorry.”
“I... I-I don’t know what to say.”
“Just say that we can go back to the way things were before yesterday.”
“Okay. Just please promise me that it won’t happen again, lord.”
“I promise and, please, stop calling me lord; it feels too formal for one of my friends to call me that. Please call me by my name.”
Nanavi smiled and nodded. At least it buys me some time until I have to confront this issue again, she thought.
“If you’ll excuse me, I need to talk to Tsara.”
They bowed to each other and Abram left the room. Nanavi sighed and started to put her things away. When she’d finished, Nanavi picked up a long pink ribbon and twisted her curled hair into a bun. She opened the door and strode into the hallway. She had to tell Tsara what had just happened and maybe decide if she would leave Kiriatzae for good.
Patarick sat on the edge of his bed, a glass of brandy in his hand, watching the sleeping Karissa. She had been unconscious for a long time now. Patarick had gotten bored of waiting for her to wake up and had opened a bottle of brandy that they had stolen when they had last taken a ship. Though he had had a number of glasses, he wasn’t affected by the drink as other men were, and was able to recall the memories perfectly.
They had come upon the ship around mid-day, heading south from Kiriatzae. The ship was small, but well furnished. Everything had gone according to plan and there was only one thing that disappointed Patarick; there were no female passengers. The ship carried ten crewmen who were transporting alcohol to the Corvial Mountains. Once the crewmen were dead and the ships cargo unloaded, the men had set the boat on fire to burn the evidence.
Karissa turned in her sleep to lie on her back. Her eyes remained closed but her hand moved to her neck. Karissa sat up and, whilst massaging her throat, flashed her green eyes to Patarick.
She moved her feet away from where Patarick was sitting and pulled her knees up to her chin. She longingly looked to the door and then back at Patarick. He put his brandy glass onto a small table and tilted his head to Karissa.
“Have a nice sleep, Princess?”
“So I guess you found out.”
“I guess I did. Now, I just wanted to tell you that we’re expecting visitors.”
“I’m sorry, but we’re expecting visitors?”
“Harvae and Derrik are coming to bring your things. I’m expecting you to behave yourself.”
“You can expect all you want; it doesn’t mean I’ll do it. Besides it is not in my nature to obey.”
“Even so, you don’t really have a choice. Oh yes, and Derrik also said that he needed you to eat something.”
“No. I’ll not eat anything they give me ever again,” Karissa replied in a harsh and final tone. “I made that mistake twice before, I’ll not be making it again.”
One of the sleeves of her blue, silken dress fell from her shoulder, but Karissa didn’t notice. Patarick walked closer to where Karissa was sitting and knelt on the floor beside her. He reached out and slid the sleeve back into place. Karissa looked away from him and Patarick’s hand lingered on her shoulder.
“Do not touch me,” snapped Karissa pulling away from his touch.
“Not until tonight then?” Patarick said, smiling mischievously at her.
She winced at his words. Her gaze drifted beyond Patarick when the two men entered the room.
“Forgotten your manners, boys? We could have been doing something.”
Derrik ignored the second statement and said, “Boys? I think you will find that I am much older than you will ever live to be.”
“It’s a dangerous job that I’ve got, but you’ve got to admit that it’s infinitely more pleasurable than yours,” Patarick replied, glancing back to Karissa.
“Indeed,” Harvae said with clear distaste.
Harvae walked past Patarick and stood before Karissa. He put her things on the bed next to her.
“Are you alright?” he whispered to her.
Karissa didn’t answer and stared coldly at him. The last person that she wanted to speak to was the man who had betrayed her and was the reason that she was on this godforsaken boat, travelling to who knows where. It was all his fault that she was here. She hated him and did not ever want to talk to that man again.
“Here,” Derrik said, handing Karissa an orange. “Eat this orange.”
“I know what’s in that orange and I’ll have no more of your poison.”
“Just eat it!” he demanded.
“What did she mean by poison?” interjected Patarick.
“It’s not poison; it is a drug we are using to stop her from...”
“To stop her from doing what, exactly?”
“To stop her from using the powers we told you about. Now it would seem that she won’t listen to us, but perhaps you could help us. Just do whatever you feel necessary.”
“Happily,” Patarick replied, grinning at Karissa.
Patarick quickly grabbed hold of Karissa’s nose, so that she could only breathe through her mouth. She kept her mouth closed and tried to pull his hand away, but could not. After holding her breath for about three minutes, Karissa desperately needed to breathe and opened her mouth.
Immediately, Patarick stuffed a piece of the orange into her mouth and covered it with his hand. Karissa could scarcely see the point of trying to resist; she knew the eventual outcome. So she chewed and swallowed the orange.
When Patarick saw that she had done so he let go of her and walked away to speak to Derrik. Harvae sat down beside Karissa, who was struggling to stay awake.
“We’re working on a plan to get you out of here.”
“You just... destroyed one of... my...plans.”
She yawned as her eyes closed and she fell asleep.
Patarick, Derrik and Harvae had been sitting talking for half an hour. Derrik and Harvae had been trying to convince Patarick to give Karissa back to them, but so far they had had no luck. Pirates don’t tend to give up their treasure easily, thought Harvae as Derrik tried to negotiate. Karissa began to shift on the bed; she became unsettled and moaned quietly in her sleep.
Harvae’s head turned and he told the other two men, “She never stirs in her sleep; ever. Something’s wrong.”
Karissa continued to turn and groan in her sleep. The three men quietly watched her until, finally, she sat bolt upright, clutching her neck and rasping for breathe.
Harvae hurried to her side and asked, “Karissa, what’s wrong? Karissa?”
Her head turned and she looked directly at him, Harvae gasped when he saw her eyes. Her pupils had become extremely large and the colour around them was streaked with crimson lines. Derrik and Patarick ran to her side and pushed her down on the bed. As they did so Karissa stopped breathing. Derrik smiled and wondered how long she could last not breathing. Then he remembered he had to keep her alive.
“What’s happening?” Patarick asked Derrik.
“I think she’s having an allergic reaction to the drug.”
“What do we do?”
“Give her this,” Derrik said, pulling out a small, silver patterned hipflask.
He almost just wished that he didn’t have to save Karissa; she was making quite a nuisance of herself.
Karissa’s eyes finally closed and she stopped fidgeting. Quickly Derrik unscrewed the top of his hipflask and poured its contents into Karissa’s open mouth. The three men were silent as they waited for Karissa to react. A mild sunlight seeped out from behind the dark, shadowing clouds and through the large windows. The gulls squawking outside were the only thing that broke the eerie stillness. A few moments passed before anything happened, then suddenly Karissa coughed and opened her eyes. They were back to their normal green colour. She seemed to be okay.
“Well?” Patarick asked. “Is she alright?”
“I am right here, you know? And yes, I am alright except...”
“What?” enquired Derrik.
“My muscles ache and… it hurts to move.”
“What? That makes no sense!”
“Just how many elves with my specific powers have you tried this on?”
“Exactly, so how would you know the consequences?” she snapped.
“It would seem that we do not.”
The three men walked across the room and whispered so quietly that Karissa could not hear them. She stared at the ceiling, not bothering to try and read their lips. She had a feeling that she knew what they were talking about anyway.
Patarick looked back at her then quietly said, “How did you not know that would happen?”
“Well, that drug is only effective on her. Only a few elves have powers and none of them are the same, with the exception of mother and child. Karissa’s only weaknesses are fire and heat,” Derrik replied.
“Those aren’t her only weaknesses.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Well, she managed to get captured by you; and there were only six of you-”
“There were fifty of us when we attacked her.”
Patarick was about to respond when Derrik quickly changed the subject.
“Now Patarick, I don’t think you’ll like what I am about to tell you-” began Derrik.
“Spit it out man!”
“Don’t touch her.”
“Excuse me? Who are you to tell the captain of this ship what to do?”
“You have no idea how much that would hurt her-”
“Oh, I do.”
“No, you don’t; that would cause her twice the amount of hurt than it would normally, both mentally and physically.”
Patarick considered this for a moment, then said, “I might listen, or I might not.”
Derrik considered the man; if he was seriously thinking of continuing with his plans for Karissa, something needed to be done. Derrik knew his orders well enough to know that this “pain” she would be receiving would go against them.
The gold handled sword glinted in the sunlight, as Chanandor withdrew it from his cloak. He handed it to Tayla, who gazed at the sword in wonder, its shining silver blade protruding from the inlaid gold spirals on the handle.
“Thank you!” she exclaimed.
She accepted the sword and bowed to him. Then, unexpectedly, she threw her arms around Chanandor and hugged him. When Tayla released him, he looked at her quizzically.
“What was that for?” Chanandor asked.
“When you’re me, anything like what you’ve just done, means a lot more than you would think.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“Like it? It’s amazing! It has got to be the most well made sword I have ever seen! You’re a master! How... What... Where did you even get such beautiful metals?”
Chanandor smiled, he liked that someone apart from himself could appreciate the qualities of metals.
“Uh, well, let’s just say that sometimes, when Sawyer finds things in his raids, he gives them to me so that I can melt them down and make them into weapons.”
Chanandor turned to leave, but before he could, Tayla said, “Just one other question.”
“Why did you spend so much time and effort on this sword for me?” she asked. Not that I’m not grateful, I was just wondering.”
“Because you’ll need it,” he muttered so quietly that Tayla couldn’t hear him.
“I put that much work into
all of my creations, and Sawyer will probably want you to train so you can help
him on his raids.”
“He won’t let me on the raids.”
“It’s one of those family things; because he and I are the last of our family and because I’m a girl, he’d probably just say that it’s too dangerous.”
“I think you misunderstand him, Tayla.”
“If only, but no, I’d
rather we skipped that conversation.”
“Yes, that is probably best. Sawyer will want to see you now you have a sword though.”
“Sure, I’ll go to him now then, because in this camp it seems I’ve obviously got nothing better to do,” she said smiling.
“Get used to it Tayla,” Chanandor replied, winking at her.
“Not a chance!” Tayla yelled back to him as she walked away.
|The Prophecy of Cadyze: Chapter 8||The Prophecy of Cadyze: Chapter 2|
|The Prophecy of Cadyze: Chapter 13||The Prophecy of Cadyze: Chapter 10|
|The Prophecy of Cadyze: Chapter 11|