Servants and Followers (The Legends of Arria, Volume 2) (23 page)

“
I have yet to
ascertain the full extent of the danger, your Grace,” Goga told
him. “But we have reason to believe that those howls you hear,
those howls which are not that hard to miss, are of Black Wolves,
Hyena Wolves, chasing something or someone through the
forest.”

“
Oh my!” Lord Fobata
exclaimed, turning around with a handkerchief held up to his mouth.
“We shall have to let them in if they are people.” He said, mostly
to the crowd of servants, guests, and peasants surrounding
him.

“
Let them in?” Goga
gasped. “My lord--”

“
We shall have to let
them in, whoever they are!” Lord Fobata declared, flouncing the
handkerchief in front of the people. “We cannot turn them away,
especially on my birthday. It would bode ill not to invite them in,
and be generous.”

“
Yes, your Grace,”
Goga muttered, turning back around. “Raise the portcullis, prepare
to welcome some guests in if they come through safe.” He ordered
the guards.

Basha couldn’t
breathe
. I
t was a recurring nightmare. It was the second time since he
had started his quest that he had been chased by Black Wolves. He
still did not understand why it had happened to him. Accompanying
him was Oaka, who had not fallen off of Joko this time, and riding
alongside him on the opposite side was Monika on her horse Deja,
whom he had met for the second time in his life in Coe Anji. Flying
just ahead of them was Fato the talking falcon, a royal messenger
bird who, if he was to be believed, was to blame for this
fiasco.

“
Come on, it’s just a
little bit farther!” Fato called. “It’s Coe Aela, I can see it! I
can see it.” He whispered the last.
I wish that I didn’t, the falcon thought to
himself.

Basha urged his horse Talan to move a
little faster. “I hope you are right!” He called. He doubted that
Fato was to blame for this fiasco because circumstances in his own
life had been strange enough before the falcon ever came into it
that he wondered if there was another explanation for the Black
Wolves’ presences.

Indeed, the turrets
were visible rising up into the sky through the trees, as were the
Black Wolves loping along closer to the ground, trying to run down
the horses and take down their riders as wel
l. A
lmost the same as
what happened to Sir Nickleby, except he jumped down to confront
the Wolves and let Basha and Oaka get away. He was a brave man, a
true noble knight like the Knights of Arria of old. Basha wished he
were that brave as well.

“
Is this normal?”
Monika called, attempting to notch an arrow to her bow and fire
back at the Wolves, though she fumbled with her weapon due to the
speed of her horse.

“
Not for us,” Basha
told her, although he wondered why she even had to ask? The last
couple of days had been strange, admittedly, but
…
perhaps nothing was
normal anymore, he realized. Perhaps this was the new normal from
now on.

“
Almost there!” Oaka
cried, laughing in relief and fear as he tried to hang on.
For almost a few seconds, he had
managed to summon up some flames in his hand, in the hopes of using
his fire against the Black Wolves, but then the flames had faded
away with the rush of the wind. Still, he had the spark.

The castle did seem close, but it continued
to grow as they got closer, the walls rearing up above their heads
farther than their necks could stretch, until they reached the
portcullis, raised to welcome them in safety. Basha glanced back at
the Wolves that seemed to dissolve away, fleeing from the walls as
the guards fired arrow after arrow down at them, and back into the
forest. He was glad of that.

They rode into the bailey, paved with stones
at its center and surrounded by mud, halting their horses at the
line of guards arrayed in front of and on either side of them,
dressed in black and green uniforms with a crowd of people gathered
beyond. Heads peered above the shoulders of the guards, still
standing on the defensive with bows, spears, and swords withdrawn,
curious to see what sort of people had been targeted by Black
Wolves. Basha, Oaka, and Monika slowly dismounted, careful not to
reach towards their weapons as Fato landed on Talan. The portcullis
lowered behind them.

“
Stand down, men, stand
down!” ordered one of the guards coming down from the allure, who
appeared to be a senior officer as the other guards followed his
orders, sheathing swords, lowering bows and spears.

“
Welcome to Coe Aela!” A
voice called, and they turned their heads as the crowd and guards
parted for a rotund man wearing a velvet mulberry-colored coat
trimmed in embroidery, barely fastened at the bottom near his
stomach with bulging buttons in their loops. A white handkerchief
with red stitching the rotund man used to pat the sweat off of his
slightly red and wrinkled oval face with large cheeks, bushy
eyebrows, thick lips and a broad forehead, fluttered in the breeze.
The white and red handkerchief caught Basha’s eye for a moment,
before he looked away to examine the rest of the handkerchief’s
owner.

A white ruffled shirt stuck out at the top
from beneath the handkerchief’s owner’s coat, which flared out to a
nearly knee-length hem and had wide lace-lined cuffs. The rotund
man also wore breeches and wide, pointed shoes with a buckle. He
had dark, piercing eyes and was nearly bald, with a little fuzz at
the back of his head and on his chin and cheek, as if he might grow
a beard or had forgotten to shave this morning, perhaps for the
last week as well. He wore a wig of white and auburn hair to cover
up his baldness.

“
I am Lord Fobata, Duke of
Coe Aela,” The rotund man pronounced as Basha, Oaka, Monika and
even Fato bowed before him. “Thank you. This is my steward Marlo--”
He gestured with his handkerchief to the old man that stood beside
him, whose gray hair had almost conquered his original chestnut
hair, in plain clothes with a pointed chin and goatee. The steward
bowed to the guests solemnly, attempting to hide a brief
smile.

“
And this is Captain Goga,
head of my guards,” Fobata pointed disdainfully at the guard that
had ordered the men to stand down, and was now alighting upon the
ground. Captain Goga turned his frown upon the newcomers before he
looked away in disgust. Goga had a thick, bushy head of curled
blond hair whipped into a frenzy, raw angular cheeks that appeared
to have been shaved too closely with nicks, stern eyes and thin
lips. He wore dark clothes of a commanding presence underneath thin
armor.

“
I am Basha of Coe Baba,”
Basha spoke up, a little surprised at himself for being so bold in
the midst of some unpleasant company. “This is Oaka, also of Coe
Baba, Monika of the Za Desert, and Fato the falcon, royal messenger
bird.” He said, introducing his companions in turn as they bowed
their heads.

Fato frowned. “I can introduce myself.” He
muttered under his breath.

“
Welcome, and be merry, for
you are safe from those Black Wolves.” Lord Fobata said, tucking
his handkerchief into his coat pocket and nodding his head.
“Nothing of Doomba’s horrors could ever pierce these thick
limestone walls, which have stood for over a thousand years.” He
gestured towards the walls. “And be merry as well for you have come
at a most prodigious time, for it is my birthday celebration.” He
smiled. “Come join us this evening in the grand banquet hall and
feast to your delight, while you are entertained most heartily,” He
pronounced, turning away.

“
We humbly thank you, your
Grace, for sheltering us, and we are most honored to be here at
such a fortuitous time,” Basha said, bowing again and feeling
uneasy with this whole experience. Lord Fobata’s invitation and
assurance, while it was most welcome, (welcome, welcome, everyone
was welcome) seemed to be cold and awkward to him as if it was not
truly meant, but he supposed that was just his own discernment
after the discomfort of being chased by Black Wolves and nearly
threatened by Captain Goga’s guards. There was something else
nagging him about Lord Fobata’s appearance, but he couldn’t
remember what it was.

“
Marlo, see to it that they
are settled in suitable quarters,” Lord Fobata told his steward,
without any more regard for his new guests, and then walked away
back towards the castle. The crowd parted once more and he waved to
everyone that surrounded him before he went back inside. Fobata
shuddered to himself as the doors closed.

“
All right, everyone, there
is nothing more to see here.” Goga said, turning towards the crowd.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please return to your business. That means
you, too, gents,” He said to his guards, and they dispersed,
muttering disquietedly amongst themselves as they glanced back at
Basha and his group.

“
Well, that went well,”
Oaka muttered.

“
It will be all right,
Oaka.” Basha said. “We’re just not used to this sort of thing and
we must have made a horrible, shocking first impression on them,
running in here being chased by Black Wolves--no wonder they
distrust us, or something like that.”

“
Are you trying to make
excuses for them?” Oaka asked.

“
I don’t like the look of
Lord Fobata and Goga.” Monika said, shaking her head. “Especially
Lord Fobata. That wig is disingenuous, like the rest of him.
Nothing here is sincere.”

“
I agree with you there,”
Fato said, nodding.

Basha blinked; surprised that Monika felt
the same way he did about Fobata’s greeting. “We just have to get
used to this place,” He said, staring up at the walls and then at
the castle. “My Tau...do you see all of this, Oaka?” Basha laughed.
“This is a real live castle, like the ones in stories! Monika, have
you ever seen anything like this before?” He asked her.

“
I’ve seen fortresses and
the like,” Monika said, “In some cities, though nothing like this
castle before now, I have to admit,” She said, though almost
disdainfully. Perhaps the castle was not as beautiful as it was
imposing, but Basha thought that it was suitable to take shelter
in, especially if Fobata was right about it being a thousand years
old. It certainly looked that old, in any case, but at least it had
lasted this long.

“
Wait till you get to Coe
Kiki.” Fato remarked, smiling. “The sight of that palace, and the
whole city, is liable to take your breath away.”

“
I’ll take your word for
it.” Oaka said, nodding. “Right now I’m just glad to be here
alive.”

Marlo the steward approached them.
“Gentlemen, and lady,” He said, nodding and bowing as they bowed
back. “You may take your bags, and this servant here,” He nodded
toward a thin, small servant about 5 years younger than some of
them with black hair, “will take your horses to the stables.”

Basha, Monika, and Oaka hesitated about
giving up their horses to someone who seemed too young to be a
servant, unused to being served by somebody else as well, but they
gathered up their belongings and handed the reins over to the
servant as bidden. “Thank you, and don’t worry,” said the servant
who sounded like a girl, “I will take good care of them, you can
count on that.” The servant added before leading off Talan, Deja,
and Joko towards the stables.

The group members stared at one another
before they, too, were led away by Marlo.

The Black Wolves, his Hyena Wolves, had
failed once again to capture their prey, Doomba thought to himself,
and then they had to be called away from the pursuit in order to
give others a chance to succeed. It was frustrating for Doomba to
have the hunt halted so abruptly, just as he was beginning to enjoy
it and just as the Wolves were starting to give him a good, small
hint of his prey, several people on horseback, but which one was
the tiger? All of them seemed to be good candidates at this
point.

However, it was necessary, even crucial to
him at this point, that the hunt should be called off, to lull the
group into a false sense of hope and security in Coe Aela. The
Black Wolves could not penetrate the walls of Coe Aela, after all,
which Doomba had recognized through the blur of the chase, and it
would be pointless of them to try. He had forced the Black Wolves
to turn back around and surrender the attack, when they were not
needed here for now.

Let others take control of the situation,
and give them the chance to prove their worth as Followers of
Doomba for once. Maybe they would succeed where others had failed,
although would they know that these newcomers were the ones he
sought? Would they know that…no, he would not underestimate them,
all he had to do for now was wait for some news of the outcome, and
hopefully it would be good news for once. Coe Aela had disappointed
him in the past, but it was their turn now, let them toy and play
the gambit. He couldn’t wait.

Waiting, waiting, his whole existence had
boiled down to waiting, for at least 26 centuries he had spent in
this interminable state, and he was tired of it. When would be his
chance to shine? All he wanted to do, after so many years of
waiting for Coe Pidaria to open up, for the destruction of Arria,
and for the tiger to show up, was to stand up once more and march
out into the world on his own two feet, to rule and conquer as he
wished, but he could not even do that. It was so very little to ask
for in the end, but what more could he want? Mobility, power,
freedom, this was what he desired.