Note: This is the 8th chapter in my fantasy novel, Legends Lost: Galdin. There are 52 chapters total and I will post 1 chapter every Friday. But if you wish to read the entire book now, it is available for purchase on Amazon, iBookstore, Kobo, B&N, and Smashwords.
Chapter VIII
Pursuit
Narúl sat at a table in an outdoor café sipping his drink as he watched the crowd. They disgusted him. The voice of the auctioneer selling new slaves to rich nobles droned in his ears.
"Sold!"
If he could get away with it, Narúl would burn the place to the ground, but he had a more important mission. At least two months had passed since he had set out to find Nylana; half of that time spent on a ship.
Narúl tapped his foot impatiently on the ground. Where is he? The man he had arranged to meet with was late. Narúl hated tardiness.
A group of giggling girls sauntered past. They pointed and stared at him with interest. No doubt they had never seen a man with such dark skin, or so heavily armed. He checked the placement of each of his weapons making certain that only his sword was visible, and even then not by much.
Something plopped on the table beside him. Instantly, Narúl snatched it up, tossed a coin on the counter for his drink, and left. Carefully, he opened the folded piece of paper. A symbol for the auctioneer was on it.
Narúl tossed the paper in a nearby fire before trotting over to where the sale of slaves took place. He feigned interest in the frightened woman standing on the plank.
"Nice day for a purchase," said a man.
Narúl glanced at him.
"Eyes forward," hissed the man. "I hear that you are looking for a particular slave."
"She isn't a slave."
"Here she is. Not that it matters. Foreign girl, beautiful, proud, dark hair. Does that meet your description?"
"Yes," whispered Narúl.
"200 coins," shouted a woman next to them in response to the auctioneer's babbling.
"There was someone matching that description about two months ago. Definitely not from around here," said the mysterious man.
"Name?"
"Don't have one. You have to realize that these slave auctions are always very crowded, frequented by almost the whole of Pras'quel. But I do know that the man who bought her paid 4,000 gold coins."
The thought of Nylana being bought like a common animal infuriated Narúl. He kept his temper in check. Losing it now would not aid his search for her.
"But at that amount, it means that only one of Pras'quel's richest and most influential could have bought her."
"Do you have a list of who those people are?"
"It numbers to nearly a hundred and no one knows who they all are."
Narúl clenched his fists. Everywhere he went either people had no idea what he referred to, or were too frightened to talk. He figured it was a bit of both. "Is there anything that you can give me?"
"It is rumored that the man who bought her lives on a manor just outside the city. But there are at least twenty of those and she may not be there anyway. Most of our nobles have four or five homes spread throughout the land. They travel to all of them throughout the year and take their servants with them; especially the more prized ones. Your lady falls into that category."
"Thank you."
"Here is a map of the country. I've marked where the main estates are around here, but I am afraid I do not know all of them. Good Luck." The man departed quickly disappearing in the crowd.
Narúl noticed soldiers marching past. Not wanting to attract attention, he pulled his cloak up and slipped away. He joined the rear of a group sauntering past before darting around a corner and into the alley beyond.
* * *
Nylana darted and swerved through the marketplace with her loaded basket of goods. Finally freed of the pit, it had taken her a few weeks to recover from the ordeal. Now, she was the errand girl. She glanced at the list that the head servant had given to her. Bread.
Quickly, Nylana headed in the direction of the baker. The Gorganofs always wanted fresh bread and they only accepted loaves from one particular baker.
A hand snatched a package from her basket. Instantly, Nylana grabbed it. She and the thief struggled a moment as each yanked on the package trying to get away with their prize. Finally, Nylana kicked the man in the shins forcing him to let go. She stuffed the bundle back into her basket and darted off before he could alert the authorities to a riotous slave. Even common criminals enjoyed more freedom than her.
The baker came into view and Nylana dashed across the muddy street and into the building.
"Well?" said the baker, rudely. After a quick glance at the bracelets on her arm, he knew what Nylana was. Less than an insect.
"I need a loaf of your finest bread for my master," she said.
Grunting, the baker walked to his storage bin and pulled out an already wrapped loaf.
"Not that one," said Nylana with an air of authority, "One fresh from your ovens."
"How dare you-"
"My master demands it," interrupted Nylana. "And if you insist on giving me the stale loaf in your hand, then you can tell Mr. Gorganof why his bread tastes like refuse."
"Why you insolent slave," spat the baker.
"I'll not be punished for your indiscretion."
The baker tossed the stale loaf back into the bin. He yanked one out of the oven, wrapped it, and tossed it casually into Nylana's basket. "Two silver coins," he said.
"It will be one coin as before," replied Nylana. She placed the single, silver coin on the counter and left. Just because the Gorganofs were allowed to treat her poorly, she refused to accept the same from others.
After the long walk from the market, Nylana finally reached the path to the manor. She hurried along trying her best to not spill the contents of her basket. Its heavy load made walking difficult.
Voices caught her attention. Nylana glanced over to see what the commotion was. The foreman threw an elderly man to the ground. She heard the sickening gasp as the foreman kicked the other in the stomach.
"You worthless, wretch," spat the foreman. "Sitting on the job! I'll teach you the meaning of hard work." The foreman lashed his whip across the one on the ground. "Get up! Get up, I said!" Another lash.
Nylana seized the salami in her basket and dropped her bundle running straight for the foreman. With one swift strike, she smacked the log of salami into the man's head.
"Stop it," she yelled, "Can't you see that he is barely able to stand? How can you expect him to work if you beat him?"
Nylana smacked the man again with her log of salami catching him off guard and forcing him to take two steps back. Like a ferocious animal, she repeatedly pounded the foreman with the salami. Guards hurried to her, grasping her arms and yanking her off of her victim.
Slowly, the foreman wiped blood from the side of his head where Nylana had broken the skin. "You will regret this. Take her to the stocks and have her flogged. Maybe then you will learn your place." He backhanded her forcing her head back.
The guards dragged her to a remote area of the grounds filled with wooden stocks and chains. Her heart skipped several beats as the realization of her fate flooded her mind. What have I done? She pushed her feet into the soft ground in an effort to avoid her punishment. Mercilessly, the guards pulled harder on her arms nearly ripping her shoulders out of their sockets.
They threw her into the stocks shoving her wrists into chains. The clink of the lock frightened Nylana. She knew what came next. The guards ripped the back of her dress exposing the soft, pale flesh below it. Breathing heavily, Nylana desperately yanked on her bounds in a futile attempt to get free.
Crack!
Nylana screamed in pain as the lash slashed her back creating a long, red stipe stretching from her shoulder to her hip.
Crack!
Another stripe appeared on her back burning into her flesh stinging so immensely that tears welled in her eyes and streamed down her face. Nylana slumped. Another burning sensation hit her as the whip struck for a third time.
The foreman smirked menacingly as he watched her punishment, relishing each strike and each cry of agony. Onlookers gathered to watch the proceedings. Nylana easily told the slaves apart from the others; they turned away while the more richly dressed looked on with glee.
The minutes passed like hours as Nylana bore every strike of the lash. Her back resembled a bloody rag.
Immediately, men ran to her to free her from the chains.
"Leave her," yelled the foreman. "Let her stay there so that her punishment will sink in. Let this be a reminder of what happens to slaves who question their masters." He walked off.
Others trickled away attending to their duties since the entertainment had ended leaving Nylana alone with her agonizing back.
* * *
Lord Trisk strolled into the throne room of the palace of Norlyk. He hated being summoned like this, but the king was never easily refused. The gaiety that used to reside there had left the moment news of Nylana's disappearance had reached them.
"You summoned me, my lord," said Lord Trisk.
"Yes," replied Krispyn, "As you are aware, the treasury is depleted. In order to ensure the safety of the five lands, I am asking each of you to pay more in taxes. You have not only paid nothing, but have been most vocal in your refusal."
"No more than the other lords," said Lord Trisk.
"True, but you are here now."
"And why is it you have not summoned the other Lords?"
"I did," replied Krispyn, "But they have refused my summons. Only you have done the courtesy of coming here."
"And it would be best if you remember that. It is a courtesy. I'll not give you any more in taxes. This is the third time in three months that you have raised them. My people have little enough as it is."
"And how shall I protect the five lands if you all refuse to pay what is owed to the crown?"
"Your sister would never have-"
"My sister is dead," interrupted Krispyn, "It is time we accept that. I know that I was never your first choice for king, but I am all you've got."
"And what of the rumors about an army that moves through these lands unchecked? Unhindered? Have you bothered to investigate them?" demanded Lord Trisk.
"They are merely rumors," said Krispyn.
"Are they?" challenged Lord Trisk. "I have sent my men into the mountains of Belyndril. The charred ruins that are left indicate more than mere hearsay."
"Then I shall look into it," said Krispyn.
Lord Trisk eyed the king warily. "See to it that you do. And until this is dealt with, there will be no more funds from Belyndril. A treaty once governed these lands, but you seem to have forgotten all about it."
Lord Trisk swept out of the room leaving Krispyn alone in his anger.
"Why do they challenge me?" he asked himself.
* * *
Nylana leaned over the bar she was chained to barely able to hold her head up. Her bare back burned from the bloodied stripes across it. Not even the damp cold could numb the pain. Drizzling rain sprinkled her skin in an attempt to wash away the oozing blood. Nylana tried to ignore it. It hurt too deeply. The proud lady of Tesnayr had nothing left but the chains that held her. She wept inwardly; her tears ran dry as she wondered if she'd ever be free again.
Mud swallowed her knees as she sank further into the muck unable to stand. Her soaked and tangled hair fell limply around her face as she prayed for release. A sharp sting cut into her flesh as the lash struck her again. A guard leered over her. Despite the fact the she had already received her punishment; he felt she needed a little more. He wrenched her head back. Nylana's half closed eyes barely focused on him. The guard rammed his knee into her stomach before marching away.
People hurried past her without a glance or a word. If they felt pity they kept it to themselves. The lord of the manor had left her in the square as a warning to others. Nylana never heard their feet as they splashed through the mud quickly so as to not be forced to notice her.
A bird landed nearby. It was the phoenix. Peering up, Nylana stared at it.
"Why have you abandoned me?" Nylana whispered.
"Sometimes you have to fall so that you can rise," said the phoenix.
Nylana dropped her hear disappointed by its answer.
The bird flew away.
A gentle hand touched her forehead. Nylana couldn't even moan. "Drink this," said a soft voice as a cup was put to her lips. Nylana attempted to, but most of the liquid dribbled down her chin.
"You there! What do you think you're doing," yelled a harsh voice.
The woman dropped the cup and darted off leaving Nylana alone in the rain with her pain.
* * *
Darkness engulfed the manor of the Gorganofs as Narúl slipped over the high wall. One of the other nobles had informed him that the Gorganofs had a woman matching Nylana's description. He hugged the wall as a guard walked past. Quickly, he seized the man pinning him against the stone wall.
"Where is Lord Gorganof's chamber?" demanded Narúl.
"Up there," pointed the frightened guard.
Narúl knocked him unconscious and hid him behind some bushes. An ivory lattice stretched up to the window that led to Lord Gorganof's room. Quickly, Narúl climbed onto the trellis in the still night allowing the shadows to conceal him.
Once at the top, Narúl leaped onto the balcony and forced the doors open. He hurried inside where he waited. Voices sounded beyond the door to the corridor. It opened and in walked a man too finely dressed to be a servant.
Narúl burst from his place of hiding and snatched the man twisting him around until he had backed him against a dresser. Swiftly, Narúl clamped his hand over the man's mouth while placing a dagger at his throat.
"You have a slave that belongs to me," hissed Narúl, "Where is she?"
"I'll tell you nothing," spat the man.
"Tell me, or I'll cut you from ear to ear."
"Go right ahead," said the man, "You'll be doing me a favor."
Something was wrong. Narúl sensed it. Hands clasped him on the shoulders. In a short scuffle, two guards wrenched the weapon from Narúl and clapped him in irons.
Lord Gorganof stepped out of the shadows with a smug expression. "Did you think that I was unaware of your arrival?" He glanced at the man that Narúl had mistaken for him. "I had one of my servants dress as me when I first heard about a man who searched for one of my slaves. I don't know who you are or where you come from and I don't care. But sneaking into my house in the dead of night and trying to kill me-well that I do have a problem with. Take him away."
Narúl resisted the guards' restraints. A solid blow to the head caused him to go limp. Lord Gorganof watched coldly as his men dragged Narúl away and to the prison.
* * *
Petra rummaged through the books in the library, the light of the candle flickering with his movements. He had spent the last several weeks searching through the library looking for what the note had told him to find. Nothing. There were references to a journal of sorts with the emblem of the phoenix: Amborese's journal.
"Oh beautiful mead how I love you. You're all fizzy and bubbly in my tummy."
The strange singing distracted Petra's attention as it bounced off the walls. He thought he was alone. Carefully, Petra walked to the door and opened it slightly. No sign of anyone in the hallway.
The singing continued. Petra followed the tune to the end of the corridor where a few barrels of mead sat. On them lay an orange tabby cat with a mug of ale. The cat belched.
"Was that you singing?" asked Petra.
"It certainly wasn't the drink," said the cat. "Now be a good man and fill up my cup." The cat pushed the mug to the wizard.
"You are a talking cat."
"Whatever gave you that idea? I wasn't always a cat though," said the feline, "Once I was a boy. A human boy. Woke up one day to find myself changed into a cat. Never did figure out how it happened. Anyway, I ran away from home scared, fell into a vat of mead, and developed a liking for it since. Never do seem to get intoxicated though."
"Are you familiar with the books in the library?" asked Petra.
"I know where they are if that's what you mean."
"I am looking for a specific book. It has the emblem of the phoenix on it."
"I know that book." The cat's eyes lit up. "The king was in the library a few days ago looking for the same book. He never noticed me watching, but I remember where he put it."
"Will you get it for me?" asked Petra.
"I don't work for free."
"A barrel of ale awaits you if you do-"
"Tabs is the name," said the cat. "Well, I've changed my mind. Make it two barrels."
The cat hopped off the barrel he sat on and trotted to the library with Petra right behind him. Tabs jumped on some shelves. He hunkered down, positioned himself just right before leaping to another set of shelves. Upward, he went in a crisscross, his claws scraping on the wood with each landing. Once on the topmost shelf of the room, Tabs rifled through the books.
"Here it is," he called.
The cat grabbed it in his mouth and dropped it into Petra's open hands. With a few good leaps, he jumped from shelf to shelf until he reached the floor.
Cradling the book like a prized possession, Petra hurried to a table with a lamp. He opened it, being careful with the crinkled and discolored pages. Quickly, he scanned the entries looking for one in particular.
"You might try the end of the book," suggested Tabs. "That was where Krispyn spent most of his time."
Petra flipped to the last pages of the book. One entry stood out among the rest.
The sun is setting while I write this. My physician tells me that I should not be out of bed, but there is one thing I must do. My joints ache with the cold and illness nearly prevents me writing this last entry. Seventy years I have lived and I know that I haven't much time left. I shall die before the month ends.
But before I go, the sword that I have carried and has been my companion for so long must be hidden. I cannot pass it on. Such is the nature of owning the sword of Tesnayr. Just like he hid it over a thousand years ago, so too must I. Galin has vowed to assist me in this venture. It shall be in a place none will ever consider. And there it will stay until the sword chooses its third owner. I hope that when the time comes, he will be able to bear the burden handed him. Just as the sword chose me, it shall choose another when the lands of Tesnayr have most need of it. I pray that person has the strength to carry it.
I must go now. The light is fading and I tire easily these days. I leave Tesnayr a better place. I pray it continues. Now, I must say farewell. These are the last words of Amborese.
Creaking hinges kept him from reading further. Hurriedly, Petra blew out the lamp, closed the book, and hid behind some shelves. He watched as Krispyn stole into the library. Petra's brow furrowed at the king's stealthy movements. Krispyn went to where Tabs had gotten the book. He pulled a ladder over and hurried up it.
A series of curses escaped his mouth when he discovered the book missing. Petra glanced at the journal momentarily. Krispyn quickly descended the ladder and moved it back to where he had gotten it. He did a quick scan of the room before leaving.
"Now why does he want this book?" Petra asked himself. "Tabs, how do you feel about retiring to my chambers? It might be a safer place to examine the book further."
"Is there food and drink?"
"More than you can handle."
"Then I am your servant."
Petra headed to the door.
"Not that way," hissed Tabs. "I know a better way."
The cat scurried to a small opening barely big enough for Petra to squeeze through. The wizard followed the feline through the secret passage; his mind mulling on Krispyn's actions.
* * *
Days later Nylana awoke on her stomach in a soft bed, softer than she had been in in a long time. Her eyes fluttered open. Carla leaned over her placing a damp cloth on her wounds. Nylana shifted each time the cloth touched her sending shots of pain through her.
"I know it hurts," soothed Carla. "Just lie still." She placed another cool rag on Nylana's back. "Some of us have been talking about what you said earlier. Perhaps we can do something to end this."
"End what?"
"Our plight. Our lives as slaves. People were not meant to live like this and there are more slaves than there are nobles in Pras'quel. There must be something we can do."
"An uprising?" Nylana groaned as another cloth was placed on her back.
"Perhaps."
"No," said Nylana with finality, "Too much bloodshed. You were right before. There is nothing we can do except just accept this."
"You don't mean that," said Carla.
"Yes, I do," mumbled Nylana.
Tune back Next Friday for the next chapter.
You can buy this book and the rest of the Legends Lost series at Amazon, B&N, Kobo, iBooks, and Smashwords. You can follow me on Twitter (JMRUL), or like my Facebook page. For more information, see www.legendslosttrilogy.com. Your support is appreciated. Thanks for reading!