Whisper (22 page)

“Well?” Darius spoke with a growl.

Dearra seemed to fumble, not sure where to begin.

“Allow me,” Jacob said. He sounded remarkably pleased with himself, given the fact that blood was still pouring freely from his maltreated nose and deep red bruises had begun to form around his eyes. “My Lord Falco—”

“Your lord?” Daniel spit out, cutting Jacob off. “Your lord is Lord Hugh. You serve King Jaymes!”

“Ah, but I do not. I have renounced my citizenship, and I now serve a master who can provide me with the power I deserve.”

Darius shook his head in disgust. “You delude yourself, Jacob. Do you honestly believe you mean anything to Falco? You are no more than a pawn in his game. When he has finished with you, he will kill you.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps I will find an opportunity to make myself useful to him instead. You have done so much to help me in that respect, I really should be thanking you.”

“How so, you deceitful vermin?” Daniel asked.

“Well, Weapons Master, it will be my pleasure to tell you. As I said earlier, my Lord Falco had devised a most magnificent plan to get Darius to turn himself over to him by bargaining his life for the boy’s. You see, Darius, at this point you must know that the shame you have brought on the Breken has caused both your family and Lord Falco’s family to lose face. Collecting a ransom at this juncture is the least of their concerns. The fact you have betrayed your own people must be addressed, and for that, they need
you
. I was to go back with these lovely ladies and secure both you
and
the silver, whereupon my master would most likely have released the Maj brat, but now…”

“Now what, Jacob?” Darius asked, his voice deadly calm.

“Now my master will have you, the boy, and these three as well. I could never have hoped for such fortune! How kind of you to come into the desert to meet us. Who would have thought you so foolish? Was it your love for Dearra that made you act so imprudently? How stupid of you, for now you have not succeeded in saving her, but in condemning yourself.”

“And just how do you plan to take us all prisoner, you mutinous filth?” Daniel asked in clipped tones. “Or do you expect us to surrender to you and come quietly?”

“I don’t expect you to surrender to
me
at all. Them, on the other hand…” Jacob looked towards the crest of a nearby dune upon which stood at least twenty Falco guards. “I expect you might surrender to them quite willingly. Unless, that is, you would prefer to see Dearra and Carly’s blood spilled right here?”

Darius looked towards the dune. The black and crimson of their uniforms made his blood run cold, even in the heat of the desert sun.

Three diminutive Etrafarians reclined in gauze-shrouded litters born on the shoulders of hired men, waiting for Scoggins and a dozen of his wranglers to get their stomping herd of horses ready for their trek across the desert sands to the Breken city.

Aesri had acted so quickly and with such authority, that Royce had not had time to be frightened. Even with the arrival of his father and Lord Hugh, he managed to hold strong. Aesri had explained the situation to Lord Hugh, and though both Hugh and William were hesitant to bring the troublesome youth with them on the rescue mission, Aesri calmly pointed out there was no one to stay behind to look after him, nor were they guaranteed he would stay where they’d left him. Both men agreed they were better off taking the boy with them so they would know precisely where he was at all times.

It was rare, but not unheard of, for Etrafarians to use the Breken to auction their fine horses. Usually it was the Breken who came to them and purchased as need dictated, but on occasion, the fairies would sometimes make the trek to the Breken city and sell a large portion of their stock. This type of sale was always the cause of a great deal of excitement amongst the Breken who would make the most of the opportunity to expand their stables at a savings.

Royce stepped from the shadowed recesses of Aesri’s tent. He felt foolish and awkward wrapped from head to foot in Etrafarian clothing, but it was necessary to shroud his appearance from prying Breken eyes. To them he would appear as just another Etrafarian—small, slim, and, if he followed instructions, quiet. Royce clumsily climbed aboard the litter that had been prepared for him and pulled the drapes closed as Aesri had instructed him to do.

Aesri had told Royce they would be referring to him as Roya. He would be an Etrafarian sister who had lately been sent to train in Bandar. As such, she would be expected to speak little and only observe. Royce balked at the notion of having to play the part of a girl, but as a female, he would be accorded a greater measure of privacy in the Breken city, as women were considered to be beneath their notice for the most part. 

Having been soaked in a foul-smelling tub of liquid that had turned his dazzling white coat a muddy brown, Reo seemed no more pleased with his own disguise. He had bristled and growled at Scoggins who pointedly ignored the animal’s foul mood while concerned only with doing his mistress’s bidding. Aesri soothed the animal with soft words, but it was beyond the wolf’s simpler mind to understand that a Winter Wolf would be too far out of place here. Though he might draw attention as a result of his size alone, his white coat would not be overlooked and would proclaim his origins loudly to any and all who saw him.

William and Hugh had donned the long robes favored by one of the dessert tribes who inhabited the area. The loose robes would also allow them to hide their weapons from the sight of onlookers. The cowls pulled over their heads would hide their faces as well as provide some protection from the biting sand, they would walk at the rear of the caravan and appear as servants who would be needed to care for the needs of the Etrafarian women on their trip.

“Is everyone ready?” Aesri trilled serenely. “Good then! Let us begin!” She stepped inside the fifth litter which was then lifted gently by her bearers.

Scoggins rode atop one of the giant horses, taking his place in the lead, followed by the rest of the herd and drivers. The remaining Etrafarian litters born along behind, followed by a half dozen servants, two of which were somewhat taller and broader than the rest.

“Young Royce seems to be getting the adventure he so longed for,” Hugh said quietly to William as they trailed the rest of the group.

“Against all of my best efforts,” William lamented.

“They have to grow up sooner or later, my friend. It may be that Maj will have need of men such as your son. I fear that no matter how this ends, we will have not seen the last of the Breken.”

“My son is a child, too young to be called into the service of Maj.”

Hugh shook his head and put a hand upon William’s shoulder. “Sadly, I think that neither your son nor mine may be called a child for much longer. The Breken have stolen the innocence of them both, and though still young, I believe that when all is said and done, they will be men of Maj.”

William did not argue the point with Hugh, both out of respect and because he thought that Hugh had the right of it. It would not have been his will to see his son become a man at only thirteen, and young Pip at only ten.

The caravan made its way gradually away from the sights and sounds of Bandar and drifted into the unforgiving desert. The only noises were the occasional call of the drivers as they kept the herd moving, the whinny and blowing of the horse as they trod along, and the rare oath from a litter bearer that had not minded where he placed his feet as he followed behind the herd.

It had taken Dearra and Carly nearly two days to reach Darak; it would take three days to make the same trip with the herd. It was a long time, and a lot could happen, but Hugh could see no better way. The deception of the Etrafarian entourage was his best chance to save those he loved. One way or another, this chapter with the Breken had to close.

Carly and Daniel were locked into one chamber and Darius and Dearra in another. Lord Falco did not wish to confine the men together for fear of what trouble they might think to cause, and it gave him pleasure to see the two warriors fret over the females they so obviously cared about.

Lord Falco rubbed his hands together. A smile spread across his scarred features. Things could not have gone better had he planned them himself. He had the Maj boy, the Maj female, the Maj weapons master, the traitor Darius, and the fairy mutt. He could barely contain the wicked glee that filled his evil soul.

Jacob stood at Falco’s side, preening with his success. Soon he would be given his due, Dearra would be his, and he would rule over her as he was meant to do. Surely he would be given wealth and status for the part he had played in Lord Falco’s triumph. His mind conjured images of the great power he would be given in his new Breken home. Little did he know, now that he had done his part, Falco was simply waiting for the time he might savor the disposal of what had become a useless pest.

“Fetch me the traitor and the Maj female!” Falco bellowed, and four of his guard scampered to do his will.

“Father?” Mili asked. “Was it wise to leave them armed?” She realized quickly that she had overstepped, and she blanched at the glare sent her way. She spoke again hurriedly. “Of course you have nothing to fear, but might they not think to take their own lives thereby denying you the glory you deserve?”

In truth she knew they would do no such thing, but if it appeased her father’s anger with her, she would phrase it however necessary.

“Dearest daughter,” Falco cooed, not at all deceived by her ploy. “Your concern for me is touching, but I will not be denied. Fear not. I have something very special planned.”

Mili’s curiosity was piqued, but she knew better than to question her father again.

Whereas four guards had left to retrieve the prisoners, eight now returned. The prisoners bore several bruises where previously there had been none. Darius, in particular, looked a little worse than he had upon arriving to his home city.

“Was there trouble?” Falco asked with little real concern.

“The prisoner took exception to our attention to the female,” one of the guard snickered. “We educated him on the folly of his ways.”

“Good! Good!” Falco clapped his hands and stood quickly. Mili also rose to her feet so as to not remain sitting while her lord stood. “Darius! I cannot tell you how good it is to see you again! You are like a son to me, after all. And, Dearra! What an unexpected surprise to see you again so soon!”

“I will destroy you if you harm her, Falco,” Darius growled.

He felt a metal-studded glove collide with his face. “
Lord
Falco, you traitorous scum,” shot one of the guard as he pulled his hand back to strike again.

Lord Falco lifted his hand palm outward, and the guard stopped immediately. “Now, now. We don’t want to damage the boy
too
much—it would spoil all of my plans. Bring them!” Falco ordered.

The guard slipped ropes attached to poles around Dearra and Darius’s necks. Dearra recognized them as the same style Darius had said he’d used as a boy to catch the tiger. The restraints made it difficult for them to go too far in either direction without being choked or stopped by the wooden rods that kept them at a distance from their captors. They were pushed and pulled roughly from the Hall of Lord Falco until they exited into the severe desert light, where it seemed that all of the Falco guard was waiting outside.

Lord Falco and Mili took their places at the head of the procession atop one of the midnight black horses the Breken were known for. Jacob was left to trot alongside the procession and do the best he could to avoid being trampled by the giant horses. All of Darak followed in excited anticipation. No one knew what was going to happen, but the sight of one of the major lords with the two captives meant there would certainly be some entertainment to come.

As the cortege passed by the other ruling houses, the masters within joined the rowdy crowd and made their way to the arena where the Breken could almost smell the bloodshed about to come and they hurried to find seats before all were taken. The Breken Lords sat in their elevated boxes, looking only slightly less savage than the rest of the Darak citizenry.

Darius and Dearra were taken to the middle of the arena, the poles and ropes were removed, and the guard made haste to leave them before the gates were closed. The two of them stood there, side by side, staring defiantly at their Breken hosts.

Jacob observed from a little to the side and behind Lord Falco, looking slightly confused, but not overly concerned by this strange turn of events.

Lord Falco rose from his seat and lifted a hand to silence the crowd. “We have before us the traitor Darius—” the crowd exploded in mock outrage. In truth, they cared little whether he was a traitor or a hero. They played their part in the drama before them as they had been trained since childhood to do. One was only a traitor if one was caught, and if one was caught, there could be only one result: death.

“Beside him,” Falco continued after allowing the crowds to voice their displeasure, “is the daughter of the Maj ruler who has cost us the lives of so many of our noble warriors!” A chorus of hisses and crude remarks rang out.

“This daughter of a coward has spit upon the honor of the Breken people, bewitching Darius and using him as her pawn. His weakness for the Maj witch is no excuse for his treason, but perhaps we can muster at least a little pity for the pathetic excuse for a man we see before us?” The crowd laughed cruelly, and many course remarks were made. “What say
you
Lord Tigre?”

“Darius? Is that—” Dearra said softly.

“My father? Yes, he is. Or at least, that’s what my mother tells me.” A wry grin was on his face, but no humor reached his eyes. He turned to watch Lord Tigre stand to speak.

Lord Tigre was dressed in his very finest, suggesting that Lord Falco had allowed him the courtesy of advanced warning as to what was to come, at least enough so that he would be seen in the best light possible. That courtesy would surely cost Lord Tigre something in the future, but for now, the well-dressed Breken stood squarely and faced Darius. The silence seemed to stretch on forever as their eyes met and held. Finally, Lord Tigre broke off, turned to Lord Falco and said, “I have no son. This matter has nothing to do with me. Deal with it how you will, Lord Falco. I claim no authority.” He made a small bow and retook his seat, acting as though he were bored with the whole proceeding.

Falco nodded his understanding and even managed a look of sympathy for the other man’s position.

“If you insist, I will take responsibility for dealing with the traitor Darius. But as to this other, I am hesitant to claim jurisdiction.”

Falco knew he would have to tread carefully for his plan to work. If this were not presented in just the right way, then there could be questions later as to his rights in the affair. That he could not allow.

“Certainly, it was my men who captured the Maj female, of that there can be no dispute. And just as certainly, it was my dear daughter who suffered from the humiliation of betrayal by her husband, caused solely by the witchery of that same Maj woman.”

The Breken crowd applauded politely to his first statement, and clapped more loudly and stamped feet in agreement to the second.

“But I also ask, has this female not brought some amount of shame to us all by her actions? Who am
I
to claim sole right of vengeance?”

The crowd quieted. Sole right of vengeance would allow Lord Falco full control of any punishment, as well as any and all ransoms that might be claimed. This was the moment Lord Falco knew he needed to sway the crowd. If they were allowed to think too long on the possibilities they might conclude they all had a stake in Dearra’s fate, and thereby a hand in the Maj lord’s purse.

“I feel such hatred for these two and the wrong they have done our people, that I admit that I have put much thought into how they should suffer,” Lord Falco continued, “more thought than is befitting for one of my rank, perhaps. If it were up to me, the punishment would be crueler, bloodier, and more barbaric than any seen in this arena before.”

The crowds started their clapping and stomping of feet again as their bloodlust grew.

“Can there be any denying that these two deserve to suffer? To be humiliated? These two who have shamed, deceived, and dishonored our people?”

Now the crowds were on their feet. Some yelled obscenities, others shook their fists in rage at the two criminals in the arena.

Lord Falco’s voice rose above the crowds: “If I were the one to make such a decision, I would surely—” Falco stopped abruptly and shook his head. The crowd quieted to better hear his next words. “No, I cannot say. The choice is not mine to make. Such a punishment is perhaps too much, even for filth such as this. I dare not speak it, lest you all think me an uncivilized heathen. My only defense is that my heart feels the shame for all of you, and I have allowed that anger to grow beyond all control.”

Their minds could not conceive of anything that they might find so disturbingly appalling. Falco’s taunt that the punishment would be such as had never been seen in the arena was so tantalizing. For a people known for their cruelty, the thrill of seeing something new teased and tempted.

“But as I said, it is not for me to claim sole right of vengeance. No, it is better that you decide the fate of the two before us. I would not feel right about denying all of you your say in this.” Lord Falco took his seat, and the noise of the crowd grew beyond measure. Arguments broke out as one or two agreed they should have a part in the decision, but they were quickly shouted down. In one case, a silent knife in the back by some unknown attacker ended the dissent.

As the body of the dead Breken was unceremoniously kicked out of the way by those trying to get a better view, chants of “Falco…Falco…Falco…” broke out and swelled. Falco rose once again to his feet, seemingly overwhelmed by the support of his people. An outsider might have been persuaded to believe his heart had been touched by the moment, so sincere was his expression of appreciation.

Darius, however, was not fooled, and the brief flash of success he saw in Falco’s eyes was enough to tell him that Falco had gotten exactly what he wanted.