Prince of Wrath (18 page)

Read Prince of Wrath Online

Authors: Tony Roberts

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Family Saga, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Epic, #Sagas

BOOK: Prince of Wrath
13.34Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Both nodded.

“You,” Lombert pointed to Zonis, “get back to training my men. Your niece will be looked after well here, have no fear on that. You do your job well, and you shall be rewarded.”

Zonis smiled underneath his cloth. “I may only have half a year left to live, Lord.”

“Then live what is left of your life knowing you have value and a use here, and that your niece will have a good life with me once I am Governor and Lord of Niake.”

Zonis bowed and backed out. The guards shut the door behind him and he was escorted back to the main cavern where Kimel was waiting for him. Zonis hardly acknowledged him, as he was so deep in thought. Wottek would not have been pleased to have lost the services of Clora, and perhaps he could use that to his advantage. And now Clora was with the rebel leader which was good. If she did her job well, there may be useful information coming forth before long. All that remained was to somehow get information to Niake.

When he got back to the courtyard he was surprised to see Wottek and three other men in a group standing to one side. He looked again and recognised the older of the three others. In his time he’d had crossed Lord Duras, and his heart jumped. Duras would recognise him and reveal his true identity. Then Zonis relaxed slightly. His face cloth would conceal his features, since only his eyes were visible, and it was about fifteen years since he last saw the old carrion eater, and Duras probably wouldn’t recall him anyway. Zonis had been general of the Niakian Army in the good old days, and Lord Duras had been nominal commander, since etiquette of the Empire had dictated that any army be led by a noble. Zonis had fought under Duras and found him to be a totally inept and useless tactician. Too many times they had clashed on issues and nearly always Duras had been proved to be wrong, yet Zonis had been blamed for every shortcoming, naturally.

It had ended after another military disaster and Zonis had been cashiered, once more getting the blame for the setback, and Duras had emerged blameless, to continue merrily onwards bringing the military to its knees. Zonis clenched his fists. He badly wanted to eviscerate the old bastard, but that would be suicide and to no purpose. He was here to destroy or betray Lombert Soul’s army, and if he did anything stupid, then Clora would be automatically associated with it.

Swallowing his bitterness, he led Kimel over to the four men who were discussing which men to accompany the nobleman and his sons. Zonis came to attention correctly and waited to be noticed. Wottek turned, his scarred face scowling more than normal. “Yes, Sinoz? What do you want?” The edge in his voice told Zonis he was in one stinking foul mood. Deprived of his play thing, clearly.

“Uh, Captain, I regret what took place today. My niece was not best pleased, either. She apparently wished to remain with you, yet of course she had little choice in the matter.”

Wottek spat on the ground. “I don’t wish to speak of that. Now do you have anything further to mention? If not, go train the men and stop wasting everyone’s time!”

Lord Duras raised an eyebrow at Wottek’s tone. “Who is this, Captain?”

“Oh, the uncle of that girl who was taken from my office today. Our new training officer, someone formerly in the military.”

Duras eyed Zonis from a distance of six paces. Zonis kept his gaze neutral. If Zonis had any idea as to whom he was, everything was lost. “Why are you covering your face? You look like a damned Epatamian desert bandit.”

“Lung disease, Lord Duras.”

“You recognise me?”

Zonis bowed. “A prominent member of our nobility is famous throughout the Empire, Lord, particularly someone as distinguished as you.” He almost bit his own tongue off in disgust.

Duras smiled cynically. “It is gratifying to hear due praise from a member of society. At least you have one person here with intelligence and good manners, Captain.” He turned back to Zonis. “You remind me of someone, but it escapes me as to whom. No matter. You may go to your duties.”

Zonis bowed and backed away, sweating. It had been a gamble but it had paid off. He’d really sent a barb into Wottek which was the whole point of what he’d done. If he could work on Wottek a little more, he may be able to use him. The captain wasn’t the most intelligent of men, and was clearly bitter and resentful.

Kimel stumbled after Zonis. “Was that really Lord Duras?”

“The one and same. What did you think?”

“Scarey.”

There really hadn’t been any expectation of any other response from the trustee, Zonis mused.

___

A few dozen leagues away, three other people were riding gently through the wooded slopes of Bathenia. Jorqel led the trio, who comprised of Alenna Duras and one of his bodyguard. The woodland was bursting with life, buds opening, flowers in bloom. Insects buzzed about in huge numbers eager to feed on the nectar, and avians swooped here and there, picking off the insects.

The woodland was not uniform in its density. It varied in thickness from very dense in places to very thin in others. Fallen trees marked where some of the vegetation had died, and here the daylight was stronger as sunlight could filter down to the ground, lighting up the plants that thrived there. The ground was undulating, with animal tracks running down the centre of areas where the vegetation was thinner. Where the canopy overhead blocked out the sunlight, there was no growth of anything other than the taller trees, so that progress was possible without having to detour around clumps of bushes, bracken or brambles, all of which grew here and there.

Streams criss-crossed the woods, varying from small trickles, a pace in width, to large brooks, which only the equines could clear. Where these watercourses flowed, ferns and thick-leafed plants grew in abundance, and fallen trees were covered in fungi. In a few places the dead trees lay across the streams and it was possible to cross the water at these points without getting wet.

Jorqel set a fast pace. Alenna was competent in the saddle but not used to riding as often as either of the two men were, and riding through woods was not the same as going by road or across cultivated fields. Conversation was sparse; Alenna didn’t feel like talking and Jorqel was too intent on looking where he was going to make small talk. The bodyguard did what bodyguards do – guard the prince and make sure nothing threatened.

Jorqel had picked this particular route as it had two distinct advantages; it was the most direct route to Niake and it also afforded him a concealed route away from prying eyes. His subordinate had donned the princely attire and had departed for Slenna with the captive Lady Duras and the rest of the guard that morning, so that anyone who saw the group would assume Jorqel had gone north, whereas in reality he was heading south under cover.

He was in a hurry, hence the direct route, but as with all shorter journeys there were possible hazards. Bandits were said to inhabit the woods and a prince would fetch an enormous ransom should he fall into their hands. The prince was doubtful bandits were there anymore; Lombert Soul had been recruiting all able-bodied men in the region who had an axe to grind against the Koros, and bandits would certainly come under that category. So either they had joined the rebels, or had been driven out because Lombert would not want bandits in what he saw as his region; he was the only anti-governmental force in Bathenia that he would tolerate.

They saw a few tree-rodents, their tails twitching as they clung to the sides of the trees, and once they startled a wild porcine that had been rooting around happily. It took off like the canines of the abyss were on its tail and vanished crashing through the undergrowth like a demented fantor.

The land began to flatten out and the woods thinned, and suddenly they were out of the trees and onto farmland once more. Ahead, nestled close to the shore, sat Niake. They stopped and regarded the town in a line abreast, all silent for a moment. Niake was set on a coastal plain and was surrounded by a single wall, one of wood, and a few buildings stood out higher than the general level of the housing; a temple here, with its roof still blackened and charred from the riots, the governor’s residence in the centre, and a tower there.

“Our destination,” Jorqel finally said. “I will speak to the governor there and request accommodation for the night, then tomorrow Alenna and I will arrange passage to Kastan City while you, Maddick, will board ship at Aconia and sail to Efsia with further instructions from me. I must hear what the governor says before I make any final decision as to what to do.”

Maddick nodded. He would do his duty. Alenna shivered. Going to Kastan City was a frightening prospect; it was the centre of power of the Koros, traditional rivals to her own family, and she had heard of how opponents to the new imperial rulers had been sent to the dungeons, or to the mines. She did though have Jorqel’s word that she would be unharmed or sent to any prison or mine, so she looked at the prince for reassurance. What he had in mind for her now was unknown, and he hadn’t expanded on what he’d told her back on her family estate. She didn’t know whether she trusted him or his word, but she had little choice, and now she had turned against the wishes of her family, who else could she turn to?

Jorqel signalled that they should move on, and they slowly walked their mounts down the long, gentle slope to the road at the bottom. Here, it turned and headed right for the city gate, and it wasn’t long before Jorqel and the two others arrived. The guards looked at them suspiciously; heavily armoured men on heavy equines always spoke of nobility, but whose? Jorqel, still playing the part of a mere retainer, handed the guards a letter he as prince had written, stating that the three were part of the prince’s retinue and were on his bidding to report to Governor Evas Extonos.

“More of you?” the guard said, frowning. “Only a few days ago there were more of you here. They left two days ago.”

“Gavan, I presume?” Jorqel said.

“Yes, that was his name. Oh, well, its genuine enough; matches the previous writing and is on imperial paper. You may pass.”

Jorqel took the paper back and led them into Niake. He had been there before, prior to the Koros taking power. He hadn’t been back in four years, and it seemed a little brighter and tidier. The main road led straight through to the square and there he dismounted. The governor’s residence was sited on one side of the square, and he led the two others up the steps. More guards blocked the way and Jorqel and the others were only allowed past once an officer had verified the document’s authenticity and received permission from the governor to come in.

Jorqel pushed into Extonos’ room without any further encouragement. He strode confidently up the governor’s desk and waited for his reaction. He had come through Niake four years ago and had spoken to the governor then, so he would know the prince by sight.

Evas Extonos stared in surprise at Jorqel’s entrance. He pushed his chair back, which crashed over with the force of him getting to his feet, and bowed hurriedly. “My Lord,” he said, shaken, “I had no idea it was you, else I would have seen you without any delay whatsoever!”

Jorqel smiled thinly. Extonos had shown none of this degree of respect four years back. Then, he’d merely been a general, the son of a prominent noble. Jorqel knew how false Extonos’ show of loyalty and respect was, but he would go along with it for appearances’ sake. Behind him, both Alenna and Maddick came in and stood to either side of the prince, and slightly behind. Extonos looked at both; the man was a bodyguard, and therefore unimportant, but the woman was clearly nobility, if young. Very young, in fact, and looking a little scared. That put Extonos further on his guard.

“Governor, I have things to say to you in private. Your guards and this advisor here,” the prince pointed to Kisan Prelek, Extonos’ advisor, who was nothing more than an inventor who was there by good fortune – nobody else in Niake wanted to advise the governor who was intelligent enough, “can wait outside. What I have to say is for your ears only.”

Extonos nodded nervously to his advisor who bowed and backed away, shocked that the prince was actually there in person. The guards left and shut the door. “And these two, sire?” Extonos asked, picking up his chair and standing stiffly to attention.

“They know of what I am about to speak. My guard does not leave my side, as I hope you understand. The young woman here is Alenna of the House of Duras.”

Extonos looked at the girl in surprise.

“Yes,” Jorqel said wearily, “not someone whom you would think I would choose to have by my side, but in the recent past certain events created by her father has given her, shall we say, a crisis of conscience. You will have been told by my man Gavan that my betrothed, Sannia of the House of Nicate, was kidnapped and a ransom note was sent to me by Lombert Soul, demanding I surrender Slenna to him in return for her life.”

Extonos nodded. “A bad state of affairs, sire.”

Jorqel snorted and walked slowly to the window behind the governor who had to turn to face him. Jorqel stared out and continued talking. “I had my doubts it was written by Lombert Soul; it was too well written and correctly addressed to be that of someone like that upstart rebel. My deductions were that it must be a noble House behind it, and who else but the Duras would be that? So I carried out a surprise raid on their estate yesterday and I found not only evidence that they were behind the abduction, but that they were aiding and assisting the rebels. There is also one other sinister development which I must bring to your attention, which is why I am here in person.” He turned away from the window and faced the nervous governor. “I have good reason to suspect that Lombert Soul is in possession of a huge quantity of the Leaf and is intending to give it – free of charge – to anyone who wishes it in this city. Of course, that will mean hundreds of new addicts who will become in no time utterly useless and unable to contribute to Niake’s wellbeing. You are to stop this happening.”

Other books

Miss Suki Is Kooky! by Dan Gutman
The Grim Spectre by Ralph L. Angelo Jr.
Protect and Defend by Richard North Patterson
One More Time by Deborah Cooke
Cross Off by Peter Corris
Out Of The Darkness by Calle J. Brookes
Yellowcake by Ann Cummins
A Mortal Song by Megan Crewe