Servants and Followers (The Legends of Arria, Volume 2) (34 page)

She made it to the pool and the
outcrop, went around to clamber over the rocks, slipping slightly
with one of her hands full with the Sword, but she managed to make
it to the cave mouth behind the waterfall. “Basha! Oaka! Monika!
Fato!” She cried, holding up the Sword in the dark as they
approached. “I got it! Now you all need to hurry up, fetch your
bags to hand up to me first, and then I’ll help you all out of the
cave.”

“
Thank you, Gnat!”
Basha exclaimed.

“
What took you so
long?” Fato screeched.

“
There was some
difficulty,” Gnat said, not wanting to get into it right now, “But
with Nisa’s help--”

“
Nisa?” Basha said,
very loudly and with a brusque undertone.

“
Nisa, she knew you,
she knew about the Black Sword,” Gnat said, puzzled by his
reaction. Surely he knew Nisa was trying to help him?

“
The Black Sword? How
could she know about that?” Basha asked.

“
Is this the woman
you saw at the grand banquet hall the other evening?” Monika asked
Basha.

“
What woman?” Fato
asked, starting to get worried.

“
Yes, I thought I saw
her there, but that’s impossible! She’s back in Coe Baba, or at
least she should be.” Basha told Monika.

“
She said she was
told by her father what the Black Sword looked like,” Gnat said,
trying to keep up with the conversation.

“
Nisa doesn’t have a
father!” Basha exclaimed.

“
Who is Nisa again?”
Oaka asked.

“
Nisa worked at the
inn sometimes, Oaka, as a serving girl,” Basha said, turning to
him. “She lived with her mother Brigga, who wasn’t
married.”

“
But Nisa had to have
a father, otherwise she wouldn’t have been born.” Monika said,
“Someone who lived in Coe Baba or something. What man could have
known what the Black Sword looked like, Basha?”

“
Probably the Old
Man,” Basha scoffed, and then got quiet.

“
I don’t know what
the matter is between you and Nisa, Basha,” Gnat said, getting fed
up with all of this background information she didn’t understand,
“But she helped me by knocking out Goga, who had taken the Black
Sword out of the stables, so now you have all got to get out of
here before Goga revives, and sounds the alarm!”

Several bags were thrown up at Gnat at
once, but she only managed to catch two of them, placing them to
the side on the rocks away from the waterfall. The rest of the bags
that had fallen back onto the floor of the cave were handed up to
her by the group. With the Black Sword resting on top of the bags,
she managed to help pull up the members of the group who were
attempting to climb the slick cave wall to its mouth, Fato flying
over them outside.

Once everyone was out, and started
collecting their bags, Basha grabbed the Black Sword and turned to
Gnat. “Come with us.” He urged.

Oaka
opened his mouth, but Monika elbowed him slightly to stop him from
talking.
Fato watched the
scene intently.

“
I
…
” Gnat hesitated,
looking back towards the walls and turrets of Coe Aela in the
distance. What if she went back there, only to be caught by Goga
and his guards sneaking back in? They would know, through torture,
interrogation, or discovery, that she had helped the group escape,
and then they would kill her. She couldn’t know she would escape
that fate.

Janus and Nisa might or would be caught
in their respective schemes, and then they would be killed. She
couldn’t know that would happen, but what if it did? What if
everything else failed, including the servants’ rebellion Janus
instigated? What would she do then? Die alone without any friends?
Slave away until her existence ended, probably at Goga’s hands?
What if she could escape all of that?

What would Janus and
Nisa want her to do? Would they want her to save herself?
Would they want her to
d
ie alone without them, sacrifice herself
for a worthy cause, or find freedom with friends?

She cried, unable to control herself,
bitter tears as these thoughts circulated through her head. “I
don’t know what to do!”

“
Come on, Gnat,”
Basha said, nudging her as he and everyone else started moving over
the rocks around the pool to start heading south.

Gnat followed after him. “I’m not
prepared for this,” She whispered as the humans started running
once they hit dry ground, Fato leading the way as he soared ahead
of them.

“
Nobody
ever is!” The falcon called back to the girl
, and then cheered.

Something was wrong, no, everything was
amiss, Doomba growled to himself, sitting up in his chair and
staring out at the shadows circulating about him. The shadows knew
his fears and worries, the shadows were a part of him, and as such
they reflected his fears and worries as well as shrouded him. He
felt almost certain that Lord Fobata and Captain Goga had messed up
again, somehow, despite whatever precautions they might have taken
in encountering the newcomers chased by the Black Wolves.

The sensations he had
felt, perhaps of the Black Sword or one of the other Swords of
Arria being used, were upsetting to him, disturbing to say the
least when it meant that his enemies had such
weapons
still in their possession.
Weapons? Plural? More than one Sword? This was a disaster! The
Knights of Arria were assembling again, the Swords of Arria being
brought together, right under Coe Aela’s roof! It was embarrassing,
this sort of thing should not be happening, right in the heart of a
Follower’s stronghold.

What was wrong with
Fobata and Goga? Why were they always getting things wrong? Could
they not do anything right by themselves? Did they enjoy having
somebody else clean up their messes? Because he was going to have
to contact somebody, perhaps Lord Crow and the ‘Maidens’, the
Yagiha and Wilama, to take control of the situation before it got
out of control, to kill the tiger and his friends. He never should
have considered the possibility of possessing the tiger’s
body,
it was
too dangerous to tangle with the problems
inherent there
;
namely, the proximity required for such an
operation. It would make him an easy target for the tiger, if the
tiger was willing. He should resign himself to the fact that he
would have to search for another body, one that was safer, though
not so powerful. A pity
,
Doomba had been looking forward to that day for awhile
now.

Did Fobata and Goga enjoy being demoted
and ignored in the ranks of Followers of Doomba for their foibles
and mistakes? Did they not understand the consequences of their
actions, that they had severely affected the progress of Doomba’s
elevation to greater power and glory for years now? Did they
underestimate their opponents, who could impede both Fobata and
Goga in their callings as well as Doomba’s? Did they assume that
there was no threat here, no need to worry unduly, despite any
hints otherwise? They were wrong, terribly wrong, and it was their
fault for being so ignorant. They should have learned
otherwise.

Perhaps he should not have expected
them to understand the importance of these people to him, that
these were his ultimate foes, but surely they would not have missed
the Swords of Arria? Even if the weapons were hidden from sight,
surely Fobata and Goga would have at least taken the precaution of
searching through the enemies’ packs. Was it not obvious? Perhaps
the hint of the newcomers being chased by Black Wolves was not big
enough. The imbeciles.

After the hope that
he had gained when the tiger and his friends arrived at Coe Aela,
the hope that Lord Fobata and his brother Captain Goga would deal
with them once and for all, to prove that the pair of them were not
lousy Followers of Doomba
…
he had been disappointed, as
u
sual
. It made him sick, to think that they were counted amongst
his Followers. He should debase them, remove them from his ranks of
Followers, were it not for the fact that due to their high status
in Arria’s society, and proximity to other noble, significant
Followers, they had gained access to an enormous amount of secrets
over the years, some of the best-laid plans, identities, and
subterfuges ever assembled. They still had been accounted important
enough to be involved in such measures, unworthy as they were to
receive such status in the first place, especially when Lord Joq
himself, the previous Duke of Coe Aela, had been just as dismal in
his abilities and loyalty. Despite everything they had ever done
wrong, Lord Joq, Lord Fobata, and Captain Goga had still remained
Followers of Doomba, because he could not turn them away, or else
they might have gone to King Sonnagh and his people with all of
their knowledge, and betrayed him, tarnishing all of his plans and
schemes.

Even death, killing
and disposing of them, was no guarantee of silence, for surely
someone might have noticed that something was amiss in their
demises, and investigate, while someone else in their employ might
have known enough of their secrets to still betray
him
,
and so on. There was no guarantee that nothing would ever go
wrong. So Doomba had to do everything he could to prevent
catastrophes. He wished that he could stand up, and do everything
himself, but he could not. He had a message to send to his Black
Wolves in the north.

He
concentrated, but then his concentration was broken with another
knock at his door. Doomba groaned and shouted, “What is it now?
What has gone wrong at the Pits this time?” as a
gringrok opened the door.

The gringrok
grimaced and said, “Sire, a Trolla is here to report that one of
the tunnels in the Pits has flooded.”

“
Flooded? This is the final straw.” Doomba insisted.
“Something must be done about the Pits! The Trollas have a lot to
answer for.”

Chapter 12: Man of Principle

The mark of a man of principle can be
found in the way

T
hat
h
e distinguishes himself.
Does he show that he

Has
f
ortitude,
discipline, a sense of duty and honor as

Well as intellect? Then he is a true
man of principle.

A Man of Principle, Mirandor

Goga groaned, eyelids
fluttering as he revived slowly, managing to sit up and peer about,
trying to recall where he was and what he was doing here. He must
have been drinking a lot this evening. He remembered he had seen
the Black Sword in the stable when his slightly blurry eyes had
glanced over to the stall of one of the visitor’s horses and had
spotted the black leather of its hilt and the special curve it had
in its sheath, attached to the saddle just left lying on the floor.
How careless of them. Why had they done a thing like that? Goga
thought to himself, striding over and opening the stall door with a
little sway. He dived around the horse when it was startled to
snatch up the Sword in its scabbard, throwing away the rest of the
saddle that he had dragged along with it. The Black Sword was his,
Goga thought to himself, yes, it was
…
where was it? Goga wondered, as
he looked around where he had been left lying
.

“
Balnor!” Goga cried.
“Balnor and malakel it, I will
…
” He stood up and swayed,
clutching at the wall. “That woman will pay.” He growled. It was
always a woman to him.

He remembered her
approaching him, a servant, head down with her arms crossed in
front of her. But he had not gotten a good look at her face, just
her hair, which seemed to blur in his mind between blond, gray,
white or red, maybe brown, depending on how the light
had
…
he couldn’t remember. Something was affecting his mind, he
could almost swear to it. Must have been the wine. She had knocked
him out somehow, and taken the Black Sword away from him. Why?
Perhaps she had known what it was, and if she had known what it
was
…

“
Guards!” He cried,
staggering towards the castle door and flinging it wide open into
the night. “Guards!”

Some of his guards
came down from the wall and the guardhouse, and he ordered them to
search the servants’ quarters, round up any woman over the age of
15 with blond, brown, red, white or gray hair, and send them to the
dungeon cells. Then he asked two of his guards to accompany him to
the east wing, where the living quarters for those visitors Lord
Crow had warned them about were located. Once there, he flung open
the doors, only to find them gone, most of their bags taken as
well. He turned about and told the two men to begin a search for
the guests, all over the castle and its grounds, but he already had
a feeling that they were not here
,
they were gone. But he had to be
certain.

“
They could not have
escaped,” Goga muttered to himself, marching about his quarters in
the barracks where he had gone to think. “The gates were shut. No
one could have gotten out through them. My head hurts. The posterns
were guarded as well. No one could have gotten out. They must be
hiding somewhere, waiting for their chance to slip out. I will not
let them slip out.” He coughed, already developing a cold, he was
certain.