A Dragon Born (20 page)

"Second mark!" Laurana called.

"I got you again," Ariana said as she stepped backwards out of his reach as Quenta freed himself from the last of the branches.

"And you're caught," he said.

Ariana suddenly hit what felt like a wall. As though from nowhere, a large branch had appeared right behind her and more branches grew from it, trapping her arms. Vines began to appear as well, wrapping around her wrist. Ariana called her power and asked the trees to let her go and they began to withdraw, but not before Quenta swung his wooden sword hard into her side.

Arana cried out as she felt her ribs crack and she lost her hold on her power.

"Second mark," Laurana said, though her voice was quieter than before.

Quenta swung again, harder this time, toward the other side of her ribs and it was all Ariana could do to ask the trees to move to block his swing. The branches themselves bent and cracked under the power of his swing and his wooden blade connected with her. The wind rushed out of her again and pain shot through her side but the blow had been slowed enough by the trees that no bones were broken.

"Third mark," Laurana said.

"Do you concede?" Quenta asked.

Ariana gasped for air, her breath rasping as her broken ribs screamed at her.

"I do not," she said and begged the trees to let her go. They receded almost instantly and she was free.

She fell backwards just as Quenta swung at her again, a blow that would have connected with her head and Ariana knew he was not just trying to win against her. Even with a wooden sword, she worried that Quenta might want her dead. Ariana was saddened that he would hate her so much, but as she regained her footing and raised her sword to block his next swing, she became angry that he would put his hatred onto her, who had never done anything to him. Quenta's sword clattered hard against her own and Ariana gritted her teeth as the pain from her broken ribs stabbed through her side. She realized that she could now barely move her upper body and her arm was practically useless. At least her sword arm was still of some use, but she did not know how long she could block Quenta's powerful swings with only one hand.

Ariana called on her power again and a thick branch sprouted between them, blocking Quenta's swing. He sidestepped and Ariana called forth another branch, then another, building a wall of branches as quickly as he used his own power to make them retreat back into the wood. Ariana sensed something in the trees as she called upon them to keep growing new branches. They whispered to her, telling her something they did not want Quenta to know. It was strange, because Ariana had been assured by Keira, Rolan and several other elves that the trees never lied, but perhaps they had secrets. They told her that they did not want Quenta to hurt her anymore and that they were trying to resist his power. Ariana realized then that Quenta must be commanding the trees rather than asking them, the way Keira and the tree had taught her. She did not like the idea that Quenta would be so forceful with them, but it gave her an idea. Ariana did her best to keep breathing and she began to gather her power.

Quenta made it through the line of branches and swung at Ariana. She blocked him as best as she could with what remaining strength she had. The shock of it shook the bones in her hand and her arm. Ariana gasped for air then gritted her teeth for his next blow. He hit her again and her sword swung back and smashed into her, leaving another mark across he upper chest and shoulder and she fell to her knees. Quenta hit her again, in her left arm and the force of it felt as though he might have broken the bone. Another red mark crisscrossed the first one he had given her.

Ariana raised her sword, doing her best to block him.

"Do you concede?" he asked again.

"Never," Ariana told him, her voice a whisper as blood bubbled from her lip. Her eyes became a deeper black and she pulled every last bit of power she had and she even felt the tree beneath her feet lend her some of its natural energy.

Quenta shook his head and raised his sword high, ready to swing it down upon her but before he could do so, Ariana released her power straight at his wooden blade.

The crowd gasped as Quenta's sword suddenly sprouted branches and bright red leaves, and its hilt began to grow roots that trailed down the elf's arm, curling around him, searching for soil or water, but finding none. Quenta let go of the sword that had sprung to life and become a tree and it fell upon the large branch at his feet, like a sapling that had been ripped from the earth.

Elves leapt from their perches, coming to land near Quenta's sword and Ariana felt hands begin to pick her up as her vision began to grow blurry.

"Quenta is the victor," Laurana pronounced. "There have been no concessions."

Ariana looked up and saw Keira's green and copper mask looking at her.

"What does that mean?" she asked the elven woman with her last bit of breath.

"It means Quenta is the better warrior, but neither of you is a coward," Keira replied.

"That's good," Ariana said then she fell unconscious.

*****

The elven healer used his power to knit Ariana's ribs back together and he managed to lessen the pain in her arm to a degree, but he told her that it would be some weeks before she was truly healed. Even though she knew it was futile, she asked him if there was anything that could be done about the scars on her face, and he told her no. If he had been able to treat her within a day or two of being burned, perhaps he could have done something to diminish the scars, but fire was one of the few things that were difficult to heal.

Keira stayed by her side, guarding her in her room at the palace while she recovered and, after sleeping for a while to recover from the effects of the healing, Ariana awoke to see both Keira and Laurana sitting on chairs by a low table in the room.

"You are awake," Laurana said, rising from her seat.

"Queen Laurana," Ariana said. "I am sorry for calling your son a coward. I did not know it would cause so much trouble."

Laurana smiled.

"Perhaps the wrong choice of words," she said, "but you were right to call him out for striking you the way he did. Quenta may be my son, but I do not agree with many of his views."

Ariana coughed and winced at the pain from her ribs.

"I hope he will let go of whatever it is that makes him so angry. I do not know why he hates me so much."

"Quenta, and many others like him, do not like outsiders," Laurana explained. "Elvanar has long isolated itself from the world but there was a time, not that long ago, when we finally opened up relations to the neighboring lands. When your mother married King Gregor, many of us believed it would usher in a new era of peace and friendship between our peoples and then it all came crashing down."

"I know," Ariana said. "Rolan showed me what the mage, Zachary did to the forest and I heard about what happened to the king."

"Yes," Laurana said, then she sighed deeply. "That was a very dark day for our people, but there are some of us who still believe there is a chance to have meaningful relations with the peoples outside our forest. Your mother believed in this, and so do I."

"I am glad," Ariana told her. Laurana smiled at her.

"Ariana, can you please tell me what you did to Quenta's wooden sword?"

Ariana coughed a little as she pushed herself up in the bed so she could sit against the pillows, hoping that sitting up would help her stay awake. She remembered the elves' reactions to it and she did not know what was so special bout what she had done.

"I made it grow, like the other trees," Ariana said. "The trees helped me a little."

"It should not be possible," Laurana told her. "At thing that no longer lives should not come back to life, but you are the second person in living memory to have this power. Your mother could do this also, and when she died, we thought that this most rare gift might be gone."

"I don't understand," Ariana said. "I just made the wood of the sword grow."

"It was wood," Laurana said. "It was not alive. It should not have been able to grow."

"Oh," Ariana said and yawned deeply. She felt her vision become a little blurry and she blinked, trying to stay awake. "I didn't know."

"You say the trees helped you?"

"Yes. They helped me do it."

"Do you think you could do it again?"

"I could try," Ariana said then she felt her eyes start to close despite her efforts to stay awake.

"Rest now," Laurana said, and she leaned forward and kissed Ariana on the cheek. Ariana smiled and fell back to sleep.

"She is her mother's daughter," Keira said.

"Yes," Laurana said. "I now regret that we did not keep up relations with Maramyr. I have just learned some things that are cause for grave concern, and it is mere luck that Ariana found her way to us. Apparently the Maramyrian kingdom has gone to war over her death."

"She told me that her uncle Cerric, who has become king, was behind the attacks on her. He is working with mages who call themselves a priesthood and they are the ones who have tried to kill her," Keira said.

"Cerric has married the Xallan Queen, joining their two lands and they now make war against Kandara. Riders from the mountain kingdom have come to the forest, seeking our aid."

"How is it that Kandaran riders could enter Elvanar, my Queen?" Keira asked. "I believed that we did not permit such a thing."

"There is only one exception," Laurana. "They are Rangers, an order to which you still belong, if I am not mistaken."

Keira's thumb absentmindedly touched the inside of the finger where she had once worn a ring that bore a green stone.

"As you know, it has been many years," Keira said. "I have lived quietly, guarding the edge of the forest, as penance for my failure."

"And you have done penance enough," Laurana told her. "I know I gave you leave to choose what name you might, and I will not command you, but I ask that you consider reclaiming your true name and resuming your place as the Queen's Blade."

"I will think on this, Laurana," Keira said, using the queen's name instead of her title and staring at her with a determined look in her eyes. "For now, I have decided to continue my mission, to protect the Princess of Solari, and the Queen of Maramyr. It is a task I took and failed, but I may yet be able to fulfil that duty. Whether I reclaim my name, or if I remain Keira, that is my wish."

"So be it," Laurana said. "Perhaps it would be a better use of your skills."

Aaron sailed in the direction of the mainland, not sure where he intended to go once he reached it. Even though Malek's ship was small and set up for one person to be able to sail it, he was nowhere near as experienced as the pirate, so it took several days more than he expected before he finally sighted the smudge of land on the horizon. As he neared the coast, Aaron realized he was nowhere near the little port town at the mouth of the river he had traveled before and even when he used his power to search the coast, he had no idea where he was. Based on the wind and the direction he had traveled, and judging by the stars in the sky at over the past few nights, he guessed he was somewhere to the east. The land ahead certainly looked like the Ansari desert, turning directly from sandy beach to sand dunes as far as the eye could see.

Malek had a good collection of maps in the cabin of the ship and Aaron found what he was looking for. Further to the east, there was a large port city called Ba'shan, and he knew from his studies that it was the closest thing the often nomadic Ansari people had to a capital city, so he headed east, following the coast. From the ship, Aaron watched as the land gradually turned from orange and brown sand to the faded green of grass and scrub then leafy green with lush vegetation. Ahead, he saw the mouth of a wide river spilling out into the sea and, if Malek's maps were correct, the city was a short distance upriver. Aaron wondered whether he should dispel the sphere he had placed on the small ship. In the constantly moving waters of the open sea the hull shaped depression made in the water by the invisible ship might not be noticeable, but on the calm, smooth waters of the river ahead, such a thing might draw people's attention. He decided it was probably easier to just sail up the river normally so he dismissed the spell and altered his own sphere so he would be visible to most people, while still undetectable to any who might be searching for his power.

The city of Ba'shan appeared from behind the gentle curve of the river in a place where the thick, green foliage parted to make way for wide fields and grasslands beyond. The city itself was not a tall and imposing place, but rather sprawled out along the bank of the river, with sand colored buildings of wood and clay overlooking countless docks liked with small, thin fishing boats. The sun was high in the sky and Aaron marveled at how hot the day had become, and he worked up a sweat as he navigated Malek's small ship upstream where the river widened and a series of larger docks served as temporary homes to a number of larger ships.

"Do you seek landing?" a man asked in Bashane. He piloted a small boat that looked like little more than two pieces of wood with a hammock slung between them and dominated by a large sail.

"Yes," Aaron told him. "Is there a good place to dock?"

"Of course," the man said. "Go to where the large ships are and find a place. There will be people to help you, for a fee, of course."

"Of course," Aaron said. If Ba'shan was anything like the docks at Forsina, there would most certainly be a fee. He thanked the man, who smiled then turned his boat toward another ship that was making its way up the river.

Aaron did his best to direct the small ship in toward the docks, but he realized as he drew near that, despite the current, the ship was moving too quickly. He pulled down the mainsail in a hurry and tried adjusting the shortsails but it was no use. Aaron had learned most of how to sail the ship after they had landed at Forsina and he had not been awake when they had landed at Meer Island, so his knowledge of how to bring the ship in smoothly was distinctly lacking. As the small ship continued toward the dock but began to drift downstream, away from it, Aaron wondered if he should have gone further upriver and let the current drift the boat to the docks. It was too late now, and the dockworkers were shouting at him as the small ship began to drift and turn. Aaron did the only thing he could think of, short of using his power, which he did not want to do. He grabbed one of the oars and jammed it down into the water, hoping it was long enough to touch the bottom. Luckily, it was, but only just, but the weight of the ship in the current made it hard for Aaron to move it. He grudgingly decided to use his power once more and called just enough of it into his body to increase his strength, and he pushed the ship toward the dock. With a few pushes of the oar, the ship traveled the remaining distance and came to rest gently against the side of the dock. Workers leapt across to the deck with heavy ropes and began to expertly tie off the ship before the current could take it away.

"You are very strong to push a boat this big," said one of the men.

Aaron smiled at the man as he realized that he had used his power in a new way without even thinking about it and it was as though he had always known how to do such a thing. He would have to be careful of such things if he was to avoid using his power.

"Is there a harbormaster I should talk to about mooring fees?" he asked,

"No fees. Ba'shan is a free port. You may stay as long as you like. But we who work the docks do not refuse a small bit of coin for being of service."

Aaron opened the sack of coins he had found locked in a box that Malek had kept hidden under a board in the cabin of the ship. It contained a good supply of coin that would have been more than enough to pay the dock fees when they were at Forsina, had Malek been forthcoming about it. Aaron gave the man a copper coin, hoping it was sufficient, and the man seemed pleased, running over to the other workers to show them. A moment later the man ran back to him.

"You are a generous man," he said. "For one more copper, we will make sure your ship stays safe. There are many theives about, but for a copper, they will know to respect you. For one copper, they will respect you for at least the number of fingers on your one hand."

Aaron shook his head, wondering if the thieves the man spoke of were the same people who would be keeping the ship safe. He handed the man two more coppers.

"Watch the ship for two hands worth of days and if a man with a red beard and a scar comes to the ship, let him do as he pleases," Aaron told him. While he did not feel too badly about taking Malek's ship, if the pirate showed up looking for it, there was no point in having him make trouble, since the ship was his, despite his other crooked dealings.

Aaron left the docks, making his way into the city and he marveled at the bustling business that took up almost every open space. It reminded him of the vendors at Forsina, though Ba'shan had many times the number of traders and people, haggling over prices and wending their way among one another, shoulder to shoulder in an infinite number of directions. Unaccustomed to walking among such a large number of people, Aaron found himself bumping into them and he apologized repeatedly, but the people of Ba'shan did not seem to care. Indeed, they jostled one another without pause as they pushed their way through the crowds, on their way to their next destination, whatever it might be. Aaron quickly realized that this was just the way of things and he did his best to weave his way through the press of people as he explored the city.

Not wanting to stand out, Aaron stopped at a garment shop to buy some robes and a headscarf like the ones the people of the desert wore. He pulled aside the cloth door covering and entered to find a man sitting amid endless piles of different colored fabric and walls hung with endless robes and other articles of clothing.

"Hello," the man said. "I am Kempo, clothier of kings. How may I be of service to you good sir?" Before Aaron could respond, the man continued. "You are from the north, yes? I can tell from the cut of your shirt and those trousers. I am very knowledgeable of such things. Do you seek desert clothing or a new outfit such as the one you wear. I can make anything. What can I do for you?"

"Thank you, Kempo," Aaron said. "I am Antal, and I would like some proper clothes for the desert." Aaron decided to use the name he had chosen for himself at Forsina.

"Antal. You are a fighter, yes?"

"Have you heard of me?"

"No," Kempo said. "You wear two swords on your belt and you walk with power. I notice these things. I am the clothier of kings."

"How many kings have you clothed?" Aaron asked.

"Every one of my customer is a king, or a queen," Kempo told him with a smile. "Although, I have dressed some princes and quite a few princesses as well."

"So, I am a king?"

"While you are in my shop, you are the king of clothing. Your wish is my desire, so long as you've gold to spend, of course."

Aaron shook the change purse at his waist.

"I do not have much gold, Kempo," he said, "but would a few coppers and maybe a silver or two outfit me as well as a baron or a duke? I do not have to be a king."

"I have heard of these barons and dukes, but we do not have them here. For a silver, you can be a prince. For two silvers you can be a wealthy prince or make a poor king. For two silvers and a few coppers, you will be as well dressed as any."

"Then I will have two sets of clothing for two silvers and a few coppers," Aaron said.

"Two? You did not say you wanted two outfits. That would be twice the price."

On his way through the city, Aaron had noticed all the people of Ba'shan haggling in the market, arguing openly about prices, some even insulting each other and spitting on the ground to show their disagreement. Aaron had learned about the markets of Ba'shan in the books Tarnath made him study, and he knew that it was part of the way the people of the desert dealt with one another, but he did not want to spend half the day arguing with the man over the price of a robe and a scarf, or two for that matter.

"I will give you one more silver, making three and five coppers," Aaron told him. "That is my offer or I can find someone else who will sell me some clothes."

"Good sir, are you having a bad day? Does the breeze not cool the air under the hot sun? Have I offended you in some way?"

"You have not offended me, Kempo," Aaron said, knowing that Kempo was the one who was offended, or at least feigned being so. "I appreciate your desire to bargain, but let us say that I am having a bad day."

"It is never a good day for business when one is in a dark mood," Kempo told him. "Still, you cannot go to the desert in such clothing as you wear, so I will do what I can with these coins you offer. I am the clothier of kings, and I hope you will remember me when your mood is better and your purse overflowing."

"Thank you," Aaron said.

"I must ask you though. These swords at your belt, you wear them in the old style. It is impressive to see one from another land respect our old traditions while so many of my own people no longer do."

"The old style?"

"Yes," Kempo said. "It is the Ansari way, never to show the steel unless there is blood to be drawn, and to cover the hilt so that all with a blade are equals until tested. It is a sign of respect."

Aaron had noticed a number of people in Ba'shan with weapons at their waists or on their backs held by short leather straps instead of scabbards and their hilts unwrapped. He had not thought anything of it, for many of the people who carried weapons in Maramyr did the same, though he did notice a few jewel encrusted weapons worn by those who appeared to be better dressed than many.

"It is also tradition where I am from, for similar reasons," Aaron told him. "But I know a little of the Ansari ways, and I am glad to respect the traditions."

Kempo smiled. "Perhaps you know Ansari, a little. Let us find these clothes and I will accept your offer of three silver and five coppers. You will be a king today."

Aaron left the shop, dressed in a fine robe of dark blue fabric, with a cream colored headscarf which he left open at his face and a matching wide sash at his waist that covered his leather belt from which his swords hung in their scabbards, which Kempo had wrapped with fabric, covering the dark leather. Over his shoulder, he carried a cloth bag Kempo had convinced him to buy for an extra copper, and it had room enough for the second set of robes and a few other items he had bought. From a distance, Aaron looked like most of the other people in the street, and from the look of the fabric compared to that worn by many others, Aaron knew that the clothier had made him look like a king.

Aaron thought about returning to Malek's ship, but there was a chance that the pirate would come looking for it, so he decided to take a room at an inn of sorts on the far side of the city, where the buildings seemed older, or different from the others for they were taller, round in shape and made of stone. After haggling with the innkeeper, he made his way up a round flight of stone steps that wound their way around an open air, inner courtyard where food cooked over fire pits and various exotic looking drinks were served. He made his way up past several balconies and opened the wooden door to the room the innkeeper had pointed out to him and was pleased to find that it very spacious and had a wide bed made of stuffed fabric, set off the floor on a wooden pallet. A large cushion sat in the corner near a tall window and a low table, and Aaron dropped the cloth satchel next to it and found a basin of water atop another table next to the wall, above which was a glass mirror.

When he stepped in front of the mirror, Aaron was surprised at his appearance and he realized it had been some times since he had seen his own reflection. His travels from Forsina and across the sea to Meer then to the east had darkened his skin and the rough growth on his face was starting to thicken into a beard. In his desert clothes, were it not for the light color of his hair and beard, he could almost pass for one of the Ansari. Aaron wondered how difficult it would be to color his beard and even his skin, and he was surprised to see his face change in the mirror. He realized that his thoughts had transferred to the sphere and, similar to what happened when he wanted to be invisible, the power of the sphere also allowed him to change his appearance. Aaron knew it was only an illusion, but it might prove useful. He tried a few different things and discovered that he could give himself almost any appearance he wanted, but seeing no point in it, he let the pattern revert back to his normal features, though he darkened his hair and skin somewhat. While he was inspecting his handiwork, there was a knock at the door. Aaron opened it and found a young boy standing outside.