The Sleeping God (The Disinherited Prince Series Book 4) Page 7

“A little levitation?” Pol lifted a chair into the air and flipped it over slowly in the air and carefully tweaked the pattern all the way down to the thick carpet of the Pastor’s meeting room.

  “Outstanding control,” the Pontifer said in Parsimolian. “My magicians, who could do such a thing, would just lift it into the air and let it fall to the ground.”

  “A sip of magic here and there,” Pol said. “With control, you don’t need to use as much power. Too much effort is draining.”

  The Pontifer nodded. “And are you drained?”

  “No,” Pol said. He wondered about the Pontifer’s point. It seemed he conducted the interview, while the Pastor smiled in the background. Pol took an instinctive dislike to both men. He wondered about Namion’s role in all this.

  “Shira of Shinkya, can you lift the chair?” the Pastor asked.

  She smiled and gave him a small bow. “Not without greatly reducing my strength. Magical power is given in diverse potentials to each magician. My strength is not levitation.”

  “And what is your strength?” Pontifer Terria asked, stroking the stubble at his chin.

  “Wards,” she said. “I can lay wards and detect if they’ve been violated.”

  Just like Pol, Shira hadn’t given them her strengths. The Pontifer stepped forward and took her hand. He could sense Shira’s wanting to pull her hand away, but how could she?

  “You are a lovely woman, are you not?”

  Shira gave the Pontifer the ghost of a tight smile. “It is not for me to say. Many are not used to Shinkyan features.”

  “Don’t count me among them,” he said and kissed her hand and let it drop. The Pontifer turned to the Pastor. “I think we have kept these young people long enough.”

  The Pastor nodded. “You may return to your rooms. There are escorts waiting outside.”

  Namion stood rooted to his spot.

  “That includes you, Sir Namion.” The Pastor turned to Pontifer Terria and escorted him to a buffet cabinet with carafes of wine.

  Pol noticed Namion struggle to maintain his composure at the dismissal, but led them out of the room. The Seeker stalked off once outside the door, leaving Pol, Paki, and Kell walking with their escort behind Shira and hers.

  ~~~

  Chapter Eight

  ~

  Namion had arranged for breakfast to be served in their rooms, so they could leave the palace and Demina soon after packing their horses.

  “I thought about it all night, and I couldn’t follow everything the Pontifer guy said, but I didn’t like the way he looked at Shira,” Kell said as he sat down at the small table in their shared room.

  “The kissed hand was going too far.” Pol concentrated on his food. “Let’s get Shira, and leave this place. I’ll be glad to leave Demina.”

  Namion staggered their room without knocking. “Shira isn’t hiding somewhere is she?”

  “Shira?” Paki said and then shook his head. “It’s just us. What’s wrong with you?”

  Pol rose from his seat to help Namion sit. The man wavered on his feet. “Drugged breakfast,” he said, as he collapsed on the couch.

  Pol looked down at his nearly emptied plate and began to feel a little woozy himself. “Shira! She’s been abducted!”

  “Abducted?” Paki said.

  Pol nodded, fighting through the same fog that had taken Namion. “A magician with a fuzzy mind can’t tweak patterns. If she can’t think straight, Shira is defenseless.”

  “Just like you,” Kell said, putting his hand to his head. “Just like us.”

  ~

  Pol woke up at the inn. A jug of water and a cup were on the small nightstand next to his bed. He drank three cups before he got up and shook his head. He had slept off most of the haze. Downstairs, he found Fadden Loria packing supplies in saddlebags.

  “Shira’s been abducted,” Pol said.

  “The Pastor sold her to Pontifer Terria. Who knows what exchanged hands. Your lady friend is headed to Tunna.”

  “Tunna? All the way to the Botarran capital?”

  “The Pontifer left with his entourage, and then word arrived for us to remove the four of you from the palace. You’re the first one to wake.”

  “We have to save her!” Pol said. He put his hand to his forehead. This was worse than a bad dream.

  “The Pontifer doesn’t move particularly fast. Shira will likely remain drugged during the trip, and then she’ll be sent to the Pontifer’s harem after indoctrination in the Hole.”

  “What is the hole?”

  “It’s a place. The only way in and out is through a hole in the ground. People, food, furniture, waste. Everything goes in or out through a four-foot hole. Once a woman goes in, she comes out as a devoted, loving wife of Pontifer Terria.”

  “Why Shira?”

  “Why not?” Namion said as he joined them. “She’s quite a novelty, a beautiful Shinkyan with magic. Once changed, her only focus will be to please Terria with parlor tricks. I didn’t think that the Pastor and the Pontifer would do such a thing. Even I learn something new.”

  “We must leave immediately!” Pol said.

  Namion shook his head. “Forget her, Pol. She’s gone.”

  Pol refused to accept Namion’s words. “No! I’ll get her back,” he said.

  “You’ll get yourself killed.”

  “You underestimate me,” Pol said.

  “Youth.” Namion spat the word out. “There is no way she can be saved.”

  “I have to try.”

  “Then you’ll try without me.”

  “So be it,” Pol said.

  Fadden looked at Namion. “She isn’t worth your time, is she?” he said with disgust in his voice. “All you care about is starting your revolution.”

  Namion glared at Fadden. “That’s what I’m paid for, not to be a nursemaid.”

  “You’re paid to follow the Emperor’s wishes. He wants Pol to experience Volia.”

  The Seeker shrugged. “He is, in all its glory.”

  “You need to get to Voerra in two days, don’t you?”

  Namion narrowed his eyes and focused on Fadden. Pol didn’t feel at all part of the present course of the conversation. “Yes, why?”

  “Then I’ll come with you.”

  “What about the inn?” Namion said.

  “Har is more than able to take my place in your scheme. Since you are so focused on attacking the Pastor, I’ll take your place as the nursemaid to these young folk.”

  Namion growled. “And what if I don’t agree?”

  “You have no power over me.”

  Namion turned his head. “You’ll all die without me as a guide.”

  Kell and Paki had been listening in. Kell stepped forward.

  “I’m willing to chance it,” Kell said.

  “So am I,” Paki said.

  Pol stood with his friends. “The three of us will go on ahead with Fadden.”

  Namion shrugged and stomped up the stairs.

  “Don’t worry. He’ll be joining us at least as far as Voerra,” Fadden said.

  “Where is Voerra?” Paki asked.

  “It sits on the border between Botarra and South Parsimol. Namion has been planning to start something there,” Fadden said. “If he chooses to tell you, he will.”

  “And what were we supposed to do in Voerra when he begins his revolution?” Pol said.

  Fadden frowned and looked up the road at Namion. “He might know, but I don’t. I can’t let you get in the middle of all this. He showed me his message from the Emperor regarding you, and it only mentioned you, not your friends.”

  ~

  Namion rode just ahead of them with three other men from Demina. Evidently the countryside was a bit more placid on the eastern side of South Parsimol, so there was no escort needed for eight armed riders. Fadden spent most of his time bringing up the rear.

  Pol didn’t feel like talking, but it would have been hard anyway at the relentless pace of Namion and his men. When they took br
eaks, Namion pointedly ignored the four of them. Pol found that he didn’t care. He only hoped that they were picking up time on the Pontifer’s entourage.

  He thought of Shira, drugged, not being able to think clearly. How could he have done anything different that could have saved her?

  Could Namion have been in involved in her abduction? They finally stopped for the night at a village inn. There was a dormitory in the inn’s attic, where perhaps twelve or sixteen men could sleep.

  Namion had already gone up with his group. Paki and Kell had found a game to keep them interested, leaving Fadden and Pol sitting with mugs of surprisingly good ale.

  “Local brew,” Fadden said. “Not too strong, but very tasty,” he said as he took another drink from his mug.

  Pol looked around to make sure they weren’t overheard.

  “Do you think Namion was involved in Shira’s abduction?” Pol asked.

  Fadden looked intently at the ale swirling in his mug. “It is likely. He was alert and awake when we took you boys from the palace. He plays his own tune in Volia, and I just can’t accept him leaving the four of you to your own devices. If the opportunity to jettison the girl hadn’t arisen, I think that was what he intended. He probably thinks he can use to you to help fight in his revolution. That would be easier without the girl.”

  Pol pressed his lips together. Fadden was merely reinforcing what Pol had already surmised. “So, it was either help him or he was going to pat us on our behinds and send us north from Voerra?”

  Fadden nodded. “You might or might not have made it. I don’t think he cares. The man has a heart of stone. He and Valiso Gasibli are cut from the same cold block of granite. They are great Seekers, but emotions are not part of their makeup.”

  “He laughs more than Val,” Pol said.

  “Val? You know him?”

  Pol nodded. “He’s been a bit of a mentor to me.”

  “And when it suits him, he leaves you to fend for yourself, right?”

  That brought another nod. “Right. I would have liked his help at Boxall, but he left us fighting for a hopeless cause.”

  Fadden’s pairing of Val and Namion didn’t seem to help either of the two climb in Pol’s estimation. He guessed there was some unpleasant history with Fadden.

  “What prompted you to retire from Seeking?”

  “Val, Namion, and their ilk did their part, but my parents were ailing. They both caught a virulent flu. I arrived with Har in Botarra a year ago to nurse them both to their deaths. I know a little healing, but not enough to have saved them. I decided to stick around for a while. I’m heading back to Yastan with you, if you’ll have me. Har has a wife and children in Demina, but I lost my wife during my time serving the Emperor.”

  Pol smiled. “You’re welcome to join us. Perhaps we’ll stand more of a chance when we part ways with Namion in Voerra. Do you know the languages of Volia?”

  “Well enough,” Fadden said. He put out his hand. “Are we fellow travelers then?”

  “We are. What do you know about the Hole?”

  Fadden grinned. “More than Namion, I’m sure.”

  “Tell me in Botarran,” Pol said.

  They stayed up longer than they should have, but Pol now knew that they might have a chance to rescue Shira, with a little luck.

  ~

  Namion and his men still kept pretty much to themselves on the ride. During breaks, Fadden and Pol worked with Paki and Kell to learn Botarran. Kell did better than Paki, and by the time they saw the spires of Voerra, the three of them could at least buy something at a market stall or find out where the nearest washroom might be.

  The flat-topped towers of Demina were replaced with spires that broke up the Voerran skyline. At least the clear, cold weather allowed Pol to see the city from quite a distance. Two-thirds of Voerra was in South Parsimol. Pol could see the two hundred-pace buffer zone, that separated the Botarran side.

  They entered the stable yard of an inn. “We will stay here for a week,” Namion said, looking at Fadden rather than Pol. “I have unavoidable business in the city.”

  Pol kept quiet. Fadden had prepared him for Namion’s action.

  “Can I inquire about when the Pontifer passed through here?” Pol asked.

  “It would be better to leave that to me,” Namion said.

  “I can find out. I have my own friends on the Botarran side of the city,” Fadden said.

  Namion gave Fadden an irritated glare. “Keep your mouth shut when you talk.”

  “That would be rather hard to do,” Fadden said, “but I will be discreet. You know me well enough that I will.”

  Namion grunted. “From this point on, make your own arrangements. I’m not paying for you three any longer.”

  “I have enough to cover us,” Fadden said.

  They walked into the small foyer of the inn. Fadden stood behind Namion while the Seeker procured rooms for his men and left the four of them standing in front of the bar.

  “It looks like we are on our own,” Fadden said.

  “Are you going to book rooms?” the elderly innkeeper said, his bony finger tapping on the counter.

  Fadden shook his head. “No, I think we will go somewhere else.”

  Pol looked at the ex-Seeker. “We’re heading to the Hole?”

  Fadden put his finger to his lips, turning away from the innkeeper. “Not yet.” He spoke in a louder voice. “I think that this inn is full at this time of the day,” he said. “I have another in mind.” He led Paki, Kell, and Pol out to the stable yard. They mounted their horses, and Fadden led them to a shabby little inn on the Botarran side of the city.

  They sat in the common room drinking awful wine.

  “The innkeeper’s brother has a vineyard.” Fadden shrugged and made a face after he took a sip. “Don’t drink too much. He makes up for the taste with higher alcoholic content.”

  “Does Namion know of this inn?” Kell said, obviously not too bothered by the taste of the wine.

  Fadden shook his head. “I doubt it. The people who run this place are distant relatives. I used to spend summers in the stable yard here.” He grinned. “Those were carefree times before I knew I could tweak the pattern.” His comment brought out a sigh. “My parents couldn’t afford the Botarran education fees required for magicians, so a Seeker from Yastan found out about my talent and lured me away. Paid my parents a good lot of money, and I was sent to Deftnis.”

  “We’re from Deftnis!” Paki said.

  “I know. I thought I’d save talking about the monastery until we were further along on the road.” Fadden grinned. “We won’t talk tonight. Get some rest. We’ll be riding hard towards Tunna in the morning.”

  True to his word, Fadden pulled all three of them out of bed before the sun came up. In fact, it stayed dark as it began to rain shortly after they had left the eastern gate of the Botarran side of Voerra.

  “We will travel cross-country. I know a way that will minimize the time we lost. My cousin at the inn said that the Pontifer is at least a day ahead of us. How much money do you all carry? I’m afraid our trip may be expensive.”

  Pol thought of the South Salvan Lions at the bottom of his saddlebags. “I have a fistful of Lions.”

  “From South Salvan?” Fadden’s eyebrows shot up.

  “That’s the place. Queen Isa slipped them to me before she sailed back to Eastril.”

  “Let’s hope it’s enough. Do you have one of those pouches?”

  Pol nodded. “More than one.”

  “Then keep one handy and make sure the others are well hidden. Botarra isn’t as lawless as South Parsimol, but everyone wants to be paid.”

  “Bribery rather than robbery?” Kell said.

  “That’s it. There are laws, but sometimes they are flexible, and other times as straight as a rod.”

  “Could we buy Shira back?” Paki asked.

  “From Pontifer Terria?” Fadden shook his head. “He has roomfuls of gold. No, we’ll have to steal her away a
nd be prepared to flee. It’s time to ride harder.” Fadden kicked his horse in the ribs, and they took off.

  The riders had little time to talk. Fadden had them careening down side roads and fording deep, frigid streams. They would dismount and lead the horses for a period of time, and then ride again. Pol hadn’t been exposed to Fadden’s method of travel, but he could tell they ate up the miles, despite the unrelenting rain.

  ~~~

  Botarra

  Chapter Nine

  ~

  T hey finally stopped at an abandoned farm.

  “With nothing to do, some farmers just leave their land and work in a village or town during the winter and then return when they can plant,” he said when he opened the door to the farmhouse.

  Most personal goods were gone, and they spent the night crowded around a small fire in the fireplace, sleeping on the cold wooden floor. At least the horses were in the barn out of the miserable weather. The hay hadn’t spoiled too badly, and the well still worked.

  When he woke before sunrise, Pol sat up.

  “Visitors,” he said.

  Fadden shook the sleep out of his head. “Seven.”

  “Seven close, five more in the woods,” Pol said.

  “You can locate?”

  Pol nodded and smiled. “I guess I’m better at it than you.”

  “Wouldn’t take much. I’m not much of a gray,” Fadden said.

  “But you can locate, and you can heal a bit. What about disguises?”

  “Minor changes,” Fadden said while they woke the others up and began arming themselves. “Got your Lions?”

  “I do. We should hurry before they take our horses.”

  Fadden nodded and led them out into the farmyard. He squished his way through the mud to the men, already removing their horses from the barn.

  “Ah, you woke up,” a short curly-haired man said to Fadden. He sounded disappointed.

  Pol had to struggle to understand the thief’s heavily accented words.

  “Is this your farm?” Fadden said.

  “Nope,” the man said. He reminded Pol of Val, except the thief exhibited some emotions, even though they weren’t particularly pleasant.

  “Local representative?”