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Chapter 24. Reborn |
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ou awake?” Pendaran did not bother to open his eyes. He had retreated inside of himself, the awareness of his physical body fading as he sought memory and dream. Drawing to the surface of consciousness he lay curled within the reeking blanket, cold and hungry, his throat so dry it was painful to swallow. It was dark, as it often was when the hatch was closed. The ship danced on shallow choppy waves and his poor stomach seized in anticipation of protest. “I am now,” he croaked. “About time. You sleep a lot. Don’t know how you manage.” He considered pointing out that he was not actually sleeping. Sleeping would have been refreshing. As it was, his body felt as if it had been balled up in a sack and kicked for several hours. The only reason why he was not currently vomiting was because there was quite literally nothing left inside him. “Mesmer thing,” he said instead. “I think we’re in a harbor,” Dabar continued when Pendaran made no reply, “The boat moves like this in sheltered waters. Two days out. I wonder where we are.” “And you deduced this how?” “Elementalist thing. Hey, I couldn’t help over-hearing… that horrible man that gloated at you? Is he kin?” Pendaran did not want to talk. Dabar’s cheery banter rankled him. He wanted to go back to nothingness rather than face the unpleasantness of his existence and the fact that there was not a thing he could do about it. “Brother-in-law.” “What a pig,” Dabar snorted, “What was that nonsense about demons and such?” Pendaran sensed Dabar wanted to know if Morisedd’s grievances had merit. It must have been gnawing at him to think he may have placed his trust in an unsavory character. “It’s a long story,” Pendaran sighed, “I was not a very nice person. I offended him in the way I treated the woman he loved and yet she died for my sake. I changed. I love his sister and married her. I love her son and we have a baby daughter.” His voice failed him and tears streamed from his eyes. The injustice of it burned in his chest, a cry of grief yearning to be released. He wanted to go home and hold Sabina and Teleri and tell Mabane everything would be alright. Maybe he had earned this, but they had not. “I’m sorry,” Dabar said quietly. “I can’t undo the things I’ve done. I want to and the gods know I have tried with Morisedd. I can’t reach him.” “If the plight of his niece and nephew do not move him, nothing will. So what does he hope to gain by doing this to you?” “Bounty. I upset a lot of people in my scoundrel days.” Dabar chuckled. “A few too many women and jealous lovers? Competition had a grudge? If you’re true to your kind, you probably have the face of an angel and a demon’s charm.” “Perhaps.” Dabar was quiet for a time but Pendaran could sense him thinking things over. Maybe he was being considerate of Pendaran’s fragile state and keeping his distance. “You know, in my experience, those people made a choice to let you charm them out of their money and chastity.” “I took their jewelry. I liked punishing them for placing so much value in a stupid rock. People died in the Searing. People lost their homes and everything they held dear. Ascalon lay in ruins and all lord and lady greed could think about were their precious rocks and having a romp in bed with a handsome stranger.” “Ah, classic,” Dabar muttered, “You hated them and so became them.” “Everyone dealt with the Searing in their own way. Most of us went quietly mad.” “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. Heard about it, of course, but I was far away and it did not seem real.” Pendaran relaxed, finding refuge in their strange friendship. “So why are you here?” he asked. Dabar cleared his throat and Pendaran sensed him picking his words carefully. “My kin are slaves traded between the Corsairs and Kournans like animals. Of course, most of my kin would deny it. They shelter us and give us a stipend of food, but we are not allowed to leave and we labor for them until we grow old or die of exhaustion. My father worked in the mines near Moddock for five years without seeing the light of day until rock fall took him. It is something we all dread. “My troubles began when I fell in love with Fariza. It’s always a woman so I think you can appreciate this,” Dabar chuckled, “She was so beautiful and her laughter was sweet as birdsong. It was she who told us what we were, who opened our eyes to the truth. They had brought her to us from another holding, hoping to separate her from her loved ones for she had instigated rebellion. Our love for one another only made her stronger and we plotted the destruction of our Corsair jailors, I with fire and she with the power of her spirit. “We killed many, but my kin were too afraid to flee. Many were still chained in the depths of the mines, held as hostages to prevent riot. We knew that if any of us dared to disobey, those in the mines would be sealed in forever and such a death is too horrible to imagine. “When Fariza understood the cost of her challenge, she surrendered and pleaded with our masters to punish only her and convinced them that she had used her mesmeric talents to charm us against our wills. They took her away on a boat as a gift to Kanen.” Dabar grew silent and Pendaran sat up, retreating to the farthest corner of his cage. “Who is Kanen?” “We don’t know. The corsairs send gifts of food, beasts, prisoners or slaves to him. What they get in exchange is a mystery. When they want one of my kin, they have us choose among ourselves. Usually we draw lots, but I volunteered. I wanted to know the fate of Fariza. No one who is sent to Kanen ever returns.” “And that did not scare you?” “Of course it did,” Dabar, his voice strained with emotion, “but I loved her. My heart was free in her presence even if my body was not. I would sooner die trying to find her than collapse under the lash full of bitterness and regret.” “I’m sorry.” “I expect you are. The pain you feel over being separated from your loved ones is not unknown to me.” Pendaran startled when sunlight burst into hold, dazzling his eyes and causing him to squint. The hatch was drawn fully open, not just the section over the crude ladder. The corsairs climbed down to inspect their cargo by daylight, largely ignoring him but looking appraisingly upon the creatures languishing around him. “We are ready,” one of the men called up and a hush descended upon the ship. Pendaran sensed fear and endeavored to make himself as innocuous as possible as something sharp and malevolent drew closer. His heart hammered in his chest as his senses took in details that his mind was unable to comprehend. Fleeing was not open to him, but his legs tensed nevertheless. At last something moved down the rope ladder, gliding silently over the planks that lay above the filthy bilge water. He did not want to look at it. Every fiber of his being cried out for him to turn away and pray that it did not see him. At first he saw only its strange golden talons drifting just above the filthy planks and the hem of its long golden attire. A pair of booted feet stood beside it arrayed in white with gold trim. “Where are you are hiding the Margonite on this ship,” said a man’s voice, low but menacing. Pendaran dared to look up at the figure looming over his cage. Rays of feathery darkness flared at its back and it gazed upon the world through thin slits in a cruel golden mask. One of its hands clutched an amulet that lay upon its breast. There a flattened oval of some strange purple stone pulsed with an actinic light. “I would not suffer a Margonite on my vessel,” said Nezrah’s harsh voice. The looming figure rotated slowly and was now gazing down upon Pendaran, the gem flaring potently as it held it out toward him. “This one in the cage,” said the man beside the alien figure, “I desire him.” “He is not part of the shipment,” Nezrah replied, “His owner is confined to his cabin at our request.” “Send for him, I would barter.” Pendaran felt the creature’s gaze boring into him and he shielded his mind instinctively, silently pleading for it to leave him alone. To his horror, Belenus arrived without Morisedd. The vile man flashed an obsequious smile at the strange white-clad man and nodded politely. It was clear he was on edge, no doubt sensing the menace of the golden creature. However, Belenus took no notice of the malevolent figure and directed his gestures only to the man. “How much do you require to release this man into our custody?” “Well, he’s given us a bit of trouble being a magi…” “Do not toy with me,” the man rumbled, “Name your price and then be gone.” “There’s many who want him. Even the great dragon empire is offering one hundred bars of platinum…” “Then I offer two hundred. Take it or leave it.” Belenus coughed. “Well, that should be adequate.” “Be gone, your reward will be conveyed to you when we have unloaded our cargo.” Belenus opened his mouth to protest, thought better of it and departed without acknowledging Pendaran. A tense silence descended upon the corsair and their strange guest. At last the figure stirred and gestured at Pendaran. “Make haste and unload our cargo, Kanen grows impatient,” said the dark haired man. It was then Pendaran realized no one but the man could see the golden figure. His throat ached with a cry of protest but he was nothing more than a caged animal being sent to the slaughter. Pleading with them was pointless. After the man and the golden creature departed the corsair began scooting cages out of their stalls and winching them into the daylight through the hatch. Shuddering, he looked on in blank horror as cage after cage of mundane and exotic creatures were lifted out, their animal terror stabbing his fragile senses. “Pray for me and Fariza,” said Dabar’s voice and Pendaran looked up to see not a man, but a centaur hobbled and chained as the straps of the winch were secured under his barrel and chest. He had never seen Dabar’s kind up close, but had fled from them long ago in the mountains. Now he saw the sturdy paws and powerful legs the color of coal until they met the smooth brown fur of his flanks and sleek body. Dabar’s faintly human breast and arms were scarred by the lash and decorated with tattoos. His strange goat-like face was at once sad and proud as he suffered the indignity of being lifted away. When it was his turn, the door of the cage was unlocked and he was told to come out by one of the corsair. Pendaran pressed into his corner, shaking with fear and weakness. The burly figure reached in to grasp his ankle and he kicked, snarling a hex and watching in satisfaction as the man reeled in agony and collapsed when he lashed out. A shout of alarm went up among the crew and for a moment he was alone while everyone kept their distance. Finally Nezrah came, a spear clutched in her hand and malice gleaming in her dark eyes. “Kanen did not say how we were to deliver you, but you will leave my ship whole or in pieces. Now get out of that cage before I gut you.” Pendaran considered hexing her but he sensed she had dealt with his kind before and Dabar’s fear of her tempered his actions. He crawled toward the opening, wincing when she grasped his hair and guided him to his knees on the oily planks. A set of shackles awaited him and he lowered his face as their cold weight fell around his wrists, ankles and throat. Nezrah backhanded him harshly and his vision wavered, the fear driven from him and replaced with numbing pain. He staggered up the ladder, half-carried and pushed into the stunning daylight. The man in white robes met him on the shore after he was dragged down the gang plank and deposited harshly on the sun-bleached planks of a pier. The harsh figure loomed over him, Krytan by birth with his sun-bronzed skin and black hair streaked with silver. The golden one he served was gone now and the man stood alone among the stacked cages and corsairs. “A final test,” the man said coldly as he brought forth a small ornate coffer forged from the same red purple stone as the medallion on the golden one’s breast, “Hold him, he will fight.” Something stirred in Pendaran, an old memory that seemed foreign to him. Even before the man opened the lid of the coffer he knew a thin sliver of obsidian would be drawn from it coated in a pungent oil. It would be driven under the skin below his collar at the tip of a silvery lance. Five corsair pressed his back to the planks and pinned him as he struggled to escape. A scream of agony was wrenched from his throat as the stone burned upon his breast, its pain consuming his body with each beat of his heart. “Speak your name,” the man demanded harshly. Pendaran struggled against the darkness eclipsing him, his body falling away as his mind was severed from the flesh. Now he remembered the numbing hours in Torment, the struggle to survive, to keep his body even as something horrible consumed him from the inside, smothering him bit by bit until he would be forced to yield up his flesh. He wanted to scream his protest. He had won the battle. This could not be. But instead of his agonized cries, a new voice emerged from his throat, old and potent as the light of the world faded from his eyes. “I am Haodrim the Seer. I am reborn.” |
