Rise Of Empire (88 page)

“I saw a secret—it is, ah … it is hidden. This great treasure is covered. A man hides it, but a woman knows—she alone knows and so she prepares. She speaks in riddles that will be revealed—truth disguised for now. You will remember when the time comes. The path is laid out for you—in the dark.”

Joqdan spoke something in Tenkin, but Fan Irlanu shook her head and pushed on.

“I saw great journey. Ten upon the road. She who wears the light will lead the way. The road goes deep into the earth and into despair. The voice of the dead guide your steps. You walk back in time. The three-thousand-year battle begins again. Cold grips the world, death comes to all, and a choice is before you. Alone stand you in the balance. Your weight will tilt the scales, but to which side is unclear. You must choose between darkness and light, and your choice will affect many.” She paused, shaking her head slowly. “Like trees in a forest, like blades of grass—too many to count. And I fear that in the end you will choose the darkness and turn your back to the light.”

“You said
she.
Who did you mean? Is it Gwen?” Royce questioned.

“I not know names. They mere feelings, glimpses of a dream.”

“What is this secret?”

“I not know. It is hidden.”

“When you say there are two lights and one blows out, does that mean someone will die?”

She nodded. “Think so—yes, feels that way. I sensed a loss, so great I still feel it.” She reached out and touched Royce’s hand and a tear slipped down her cheek. “Your road is one of great anguish.”

Royce said nothing for a moment and then asked, “What is this great journey?”

She shook her head. “I wish knew more. Your life—whole life been pain and so much more lies ahead. Am sorry, but cannot tell more than that.”

“She rests now,” Joqdan told them. From his firm tone they knew it was time to go.

They walked out of the hut and found Wyatt watching out for them.

“Waiting up?” Hadrian asked.

“Didn’t want you to step into the wrong hut by accident.” He gave a wink.

“The rest bunked down?”

He nodded. “So, you’re an elf,” Wyatt said to Royce. “That explains a lot. What did the lady want?”

“To tell me my future.”

“Good news?”

“It nearly killed her. What do you think?”

T
hranic was furious. Wesley refused to take any action against Royce, and the sentinel railed that under imperial law all elves were subject to arrest. Wesley had little choice but to acknowledge this, but added that given their circumstances, he had neither a prison nor chains. He also pointed out that they were not within the bounds of the New Empire, and until they were, he was the sole judge of the law.

“It is my duty to see this mission to completion,” Wesley told the sentinel. “A bound man will only be a hindrance to this effort, particularly when he is injured and exhibits no desire to flee.”

Royce watched all this with an expression of mild amusement. Thranic went on relentlessly until finally Wesley gave in and approached Royce. “Will you give me your word you will not attempt to escape me or Sentinel Thranic before this mission is over?”

“On my word, sir,” Royce replied. “There is nothing that could make me willingly leave Sentinel Thranic’s side.”

“There you have it,” Wesley concluded, satisfied.

“He’s an elf! What good is the word of an elf?” As Thranic straightened and rose above Wesley, the look on the sentinel’s
face caused him to take a step back. “As secretary of Erivan affairs, appointed by the Patriarch, it’s my duty to purge the empire of their foul influence. I demand you place the elf under my authority at once!”

Wesley hesitated. The challenge of a sentinel broke the nerve of many kings, and Thranic was more intimidating than any other Hadrian had encountered. His hunched-vulture demeanor and piercing glare were more than daunting.

Hadrian was tense. He knew the sentinel was already dead, but would prefer his partner got to pick his own time and place. If Wesley agreed to surrender Royce, there would be a battle that would see one of them dead. Hadrian let his fingers slip slowly to the pommels of his swords and he marked the position of Bernie in anticipation.

Wesley locked his jaw and returned Thranic’s glare. “He might be an elf, sir, but he is also one of
my
crew.”

“Your crew? You no longer have a ship. You’re nothing but a boy playing pretend captain!” the sentinel bellowed angrily.

Wesley stiffened.

“And what were you playing at in the hold of the ship, sir? Was that what you call administering your authority?”

This took Thranic by surprise.

“Oh yes, the officers knew of your nightly visits to the
cargo.
It is a small ship, sir, and the officers’ bunks were just above. We heard you every night torturing them, and I fear a good deal more than that. I am no great fan of elves, but by Maribor, there are limits to the abuses conscience permits! No, sir, I do not think I will be turning Seaman Melborn over to your authority anytime soon. Even should I trust you to treat him honorably, I need all the hands I can get, and as we both know, you are not an honorable man.”

“It’s a pity to see such a young, promising lad throw his life away,” Thranic fumed. “I’ll see that you are executed for this.”

“To do so, we must return to Avryn. Let us hope we both live to see that day.”

At dawn the crew of the
Emerald Storm
left the village and once more plunged into the jungle, traveling northeast of the Oudorro Valley by a narrow, barely visible path. The rain had left the ground swamped, but it had stopped at last. On the third day, cliffs and chasms barred their path. They followed ridgelines where a stumble could send a man falling hundreds of feet, walked perilous rope bridges that spanned raging rivers, and followed rocky clefts down into dark valleys. In the lower ravines it was dark, even at midday. Trees created phantom images. Rocks looked like crouching animals, and stunted, gnarled bushes appeared like monsters in the mist.

Royce’s health steadily improved, though his disposition remained unchanged. He was able to walk on his own most of the day, and thanks to Fan Irlanu’s balm, his wounds no longer required a bandage.

They found the bodies on the fourth day out of Oudorro. Corpses, dressed in clothes similar to those of Dilladrum and the Vintu, lay on the path. Flies hovered, and the stench of decay lingered in the air. They had been dead for some time, and many were missing limbs or showed evidence of bites.

“Animals?” Wesley asked.

“Maybe.” Dilladrum looked off toward the east. “But perhaps the Panther is not able to contain his beasts, just as Burandu told us.”

“You’re saying the Ghazel did this?”

Dilladrum paused to study the jungle around them. “Impossible to say, yet these bodies are weeks old and it’s not like the jungle to let them rot. Animals don’t like Ghazel and
will avoid an area with their smell, even if it means passing up a free meal.

“This man is Hingara.” Dilladrum pointed to the body of a swarthy little man in a red cap. “He’s a guide, like me. He set out for the Palace of the Four Winds with a party like ours weeks ago. He was a good man. He knew the jungle well, and as you can see, his group was large—as many as thirty men in all. What kind of animal do you think would attack so large a company? A pack of wolves, perhaps? A pride of lions? No, they would never attack a party this large. And what animal could kill without leaving a single body of their own behind? Ghazel, on the other hand …”

“What about them?” Wesley asked.

“They’re like ghosts. Hingara could not have seen them coming. Imagine beings as nimble and at ease in these jungles as monkeys, but possessing the strength and ferocity of tigers. They have the instinct of beasts but the intelligence of men. On a rainy day they can smell a human three leagues away. This was a safe path, but I fear things have changed.”

“There are only about eighteen bodies here,” Wesley observed. “If he set out with thirty men, where are the rest?”

Dilladrum let his sight settle on the naval officer. “Where, indeed.”

Wesley grimaced as he looked at the dead. “Are you saying they took them to eat?”

“That’s what they do.” Dilladrum pointed to the torn and mutilated bodies. “They ate some on the spot in the fever following the battle, but I think they carried the rest back to their den, where I can only guess they feasted by barbecuing them on spits and drinking warmed blood from the men’s skulls.”

“You don’t know that!” Wesley challenged.

Dilladrum shook his head. “As I said, I’m guessing. No one
truly knows what goes on in their camps any more than a deer knows what goes on in the dining halls of a king.”

“You make it sound as if they’re our betters.”

“In these jungles, they are. Here they’re the hunters and we’re the prey. I told you the trip would be harder from now on. We’ll burn no fire, cook no food, and pitch no tent. Our only hope of survival lies in slipping through unnoticed.”

“Should we bury them?” Wesley asked.

“What the animals do not touch, neither should we. It would announce our presence to the whole jungle. It’s also not wise to linger. We should press on with all haste.”

They traveled steadily downward now, following a rapidly flowing river through a cleft in the mountains. The lower they went, the higher the canopy rose, and the darker their world became. They camped along a bank where the river swirled around a break of boulders. With no fire or tent, it was not much of a camp. They huddled on a bare sandy patch exposed by a shift in the river’s bend, eating cold salted meat. Royce sat at the edge of the camp and watched Thranic watching him.

They had played this game each night since the village. Royce was certain Bernie had filled Thranic’s head with numerous stories about his reign of terror against the Diamond. Thranic appeared aloof, but Royce was certain Bernie’s words had wormed in nonetheless. Without Staul, and with Bernie no longer a trusted ally, Thranic was dramatically weakened. The sentinel’s confrontation with Wesley had revealed Thranic’s growing desperation—his failure another setback. The balance had shifted, he slipped from the hunter to the hunted, and with each day Royce grew stronger.