The Bonding (The Song and the Rhythm) (23 page)

“Reska.” The man clasped Vaun’s forearm. “And thank you. I thought I had you there for a second.”

“I did, too.” Vaun slapped him on the back, thinking how often David had said those exact words. “Why do you smile like that when you fight?”

Reska shrugged, apparently familiar with the question. “I don’t know. I just do. Always have. And, anyway, it’s a good distraction.”

“That it is. It almost made me lose my place in the Song.”

Reska frowned at that, not knowing in the slightest what Vaun meant. He grinned and shrugged, however, thinking that Rameners always did have peculiar ideas about sword fighting.

Turning to the assembled soldiers, the Swordsman opened his arms and grinned broadly. “Who’s next?”

*
*
*

Merdel and Thorne heard the clashings of a fierce battle as they reentered the palace late that afternoon and hurried toward the sound. Coming out onto the practice grounds, they saw Vaun Tarsus surrounded by several of the royal palace guard. He fought them off with ease, though he made it appear he didn’t, and Merdel laughed heartily at the sight.

“It seems our young companion became anxious for a test.”

Thorne nodded. “Aye. But he might give himself away if he keeps this up. It also makes him look a little conceited.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much, Thorne. He’s supposed to be from Ramen, remember. And vanity isn’t in Vaun’s blood. And since when are you concerned about keeping things hidden, you who hate subterfuge so much?”

“Everyone needs to be a little cautious, even a dwarf. And if people learn he’s a Swordsman, ’twon’t be long afore Elak hears of it. Then we’ll have all sorts of extra trouble. We no want too many people hearin’ ’bout a relatively untrained youngster who can defeat all the palace guard single-handed, from Ramen or no. You know how people get when rumors of a new Swordsman begin spreadin’. Vaun could find himself facin’ the headsman’s axe.” The dwarf eyed his wizard friend. “Or twenty challenges come the dawn.”

“Aye. I’d hate to see that, or him being stoned to death for no reason other than being what he is.” The wizard scratched his chin. Sometimes the followers of the Great God shamed him. “I’ll mention it to Vaun.” He stood silently watching the youth for several minutes. “He
is
good, though, isn’t he?”

Thorne nodded again. “Very.”

They turned back to the fight in time to see Vaun gracefully finish off the last of the guardsmen. Those he’d already defeated had either risen from their mock deaths or were in the process of it, and all looked at Vaun with new respect. Several rubbed at their faces where the flat of the Swordsman’s blade had struck them. They were all glad this was merely spar, for even a light tap with the side of the woven blade was hard enough to leave a mark that would most likely develop into a bruise by the next day. He’d beaten a total of nine men, two of whom were not recruits.

Vaun thanked the guardsmen and officers for allowing him to spar with them and told the new recruits that they should all be proud of their abilities. They thanked him in return and invited him to join them any day he wished. Vaun readily agreed and pivoted to find Thorne and Merdel not too far away. Sheathing his sword, he strode away.

“Very impressive, young man,” Merdel claimed as Vaun approached. “I understand your desire to fight, but don’t overdo it. Ramen swordsmen are good, but they do have their limitations.”

Vaun bowed his head, his breathing a little heavy. “I did show off a little, didn’t I?” His feet scuffed the dir,t and he seemed a little ashamed of himself. “I just couldn’t help it. I really wanted to fight, and I wanted to see how good I am now.”

“There’s no harm in it, but remember that you have special gifts that allow you to defeat almost anyone. But don’t worry—you fought mostly recruits, so your victory won’t carry quite so much weight. But be more careful next time,
Swordsman
.”

“Okay.” Vaun’s head came back up. “Do you really think I can beat anyone?”

“Most certainly.” Merdel had deliberately used Vaun’s new title, as they all had. The wizard knew that doing so would help eliminate the doubts that still plagued their companion. “Except, of course, someone well skilled in the use of a staff.”

The Swordsman smiled. “Someone like you, maybe?” Merdel had refused to spar with the youth, saying he didn’t want to humiliate him and make him doubt his abilities. Merdel grinned but didn’t answer the question, so Vaun decided to let the matter drop for now. “So, where’d you two run off to?”

“We took a small stroll through the city.” The wizard led the way as they walked back into the palace. “I needed a break from my reading.” The wizard had been in one of the castle’s many libraries ever since they had arrived, searching for anything that might help them fight Elak.

Vaun laughed. “Small? You’ve been gone for over four hours.”

“Have we?” Merdel looked shocked. “Thorne, you were supposed to keep track of the time.”

“Sorry, Merdel, I’d forgotten.” The dwarf didn’t sound all that regretful.

“No matter.” The mage turned to Vaun. “Did we miss anything else?”

“No, nothing really. Drath is still sleeping, and King Dobry is having all sorts of meetings today. No one has heard from or seen Rush or Dart all day. I think they may have left town.”

Thorne grunted. “We can only hope so much.”

The three companions walked idly through the palace, their boots echoing hollowly on the marble floors, not entirely sure where they wanted to go. Their stay in King Dobry’s home while they waited for Merdel to finish his research and Drath to recover had left them all with a strong loss of their sense of purpose. They had been so determined to reach the castle that, once there, they discovered they weren’t sure what needed to be done next. They knew Elak had to be stopped, but at the moment they felt disinclined to move.

The marble walls of the castle ranged from an almost pure white to a very deep blue. Thin streaks of red, blue, and black ran through the white and pink marble used for the floors and walls, while white and yellow bands accentuated the darker colors used for columns and archways. The combinations of light and dark marble set each other off nicely, and only added to the overall beauty of the castle. Gold and silver candelabra and lamps provided light along with windows of many shapes and sizes, and large bouquets of colorful flowers scented the air with a fragrance that pleased the senses.

Tapestries and paintings depicting the history of the castle and the family of King Dobry decorated the walls. Vaun saw many hunting scenes side by side with pageants, religious rites, and other royal festivities, or “outlandish frolicking” as the king called some of them. There were several large paintings of the Dobry falcon, the raptor overlooking its domain from a variety of perches with sharp eyes and wings just beginning to spread. The few battle scenes were tastefully done and made war seem necessary for the wealth and continuance of the kingdom. The vaulted ceiling rose fifteen feet above their heads, itself decorated with a wide array of frescoes, and archways led off in many directions.

The castle itself was quite large, and its finery spoke of the prosperity the kingdom had enjoyed since the end of the Third Great Alliance. The city of Bordell showed few of the signs of war that still tainted many of the smaller towns and villages. Even the places that looked the worst made the war seem a few centuries old, instead of the actual few decades, according to Thorne.

Finely carved furniture from all parts of the rejuvenated Southern Kingdoms sat on patterned rugs that further highlighted the marble of the walls and floors. A few rooms had polished hardwood floors that enhanced the soft beauty of the lighter marble with their rich darkness. Every now and then they passed a servant or guard hurrying on some duty, and all glanced more than once at the Vaulka on Vaun’s back.

Vaun patted his stomach. “All that fighting made me hungry. I’m going to the kitchen to see if I can find something to eat.”

Merdel nodded. “I’d like to check on Drath before I start reading again, so I’ll meet up with you later.”

“I’ll follow you, Merdel.” Thorne stumped noisily on behind the wizard.

Vaun bid them farewell, telling them he’d come as soon as he was able, and Thorne made him promise he’d bring a flagon of wine when he did. Vaun grinned at the dwarf’s insistence and hurried off in the direction of the kitchen. The Swordsman couldn’t stomach seeing Drath too much in the condition the tall man was in. It bothered him to see his friend so unwell.

Where
is
the kitchen?
The place was so huge that he could easily become lost and never find where he was going. He hoped his sense of direction would hold out or a servant would pass by so he could ask directions before he starved to death.

He had a pretty good idea of where he wanted to go, but he and his two friends had wandered into a part of the castle he didn’t recognize, even after all the tours given him by the king and Thorne. Now, as he walked further, he saw the walls here were not as fine, and the decorations were old and worn. The floor was stone rather than marble or wood, and there were no turnoffs that would allow him to change direction. He could go either forward or back through the thick stone door that had taken him into this passage.

He stopped momentarily to decide which would be best, then figured it was always better to go forward than backward. With this decision, the young Swordsman marched deeper into the older portion of King Dobry’s castle.

Not long after this, he came to an intersection, with hallways branching off both right and left. Again, he was unsure how to proceed. He hadn’t seen any other passages or doorways since the first one, and the dust on the floor had almost no tracks in it. His instincts told him the way he wanted to go was left, but something pulled him to the right, so he stood, weighing which was best to follow. In the silence of his thoughts, a strange sound came from the hallway to his right. Curious, he walked quietly toward the sound.

His boots made little noise as he crept slowly down the passageway, his footsteps marked by the imprint of his boots in the dust. It was darker in this part of the castle, with the torches spaced farther apart and the absence of any windows. He noticed that many of the torches were out but didn’t think that seemed too suspicious. This part seemed infrequently traveled anyway. He kept his hands out before him, one feeling along the rough stone wall and the other probing the gloom directly in front of him. He moved on, trying to decipher the mysterious sound.

The hallway curved sharply left up ahead, and the Swordsman backed against the wall. He moved slower now, trying desperately to identify the strange noise. He could swear he’d heard it or something like it before, but he couldn’t place it. It was a shuffling kind of sound, but it also dragged a little at irregular intervals. Even more curious, and with an itch building in his side that he refused to acknowledge at a time like this, Vaun Tarsus crept on.

He soon reached the end of the curve and stopped to peer around the corner. He squatted low to avoid being seen, a strange action considering where he was but that still seemed appropriate. When he stuck his head cautiously around the curve, what he saw froze the blood in his veins. As his side itched furiously and the Song and the Rhythm built in his head, he realized suddenly where in the castle he was. This hallway ran directly behind King Dobry’s personal chambers.

*
*
*

Merdel peered down at Drath’s sleeping form. Thorne stood on the opposite side of the bed, looking a little worried. Drath slept deeply, almost unconsciously, and had ever since the Chattul had raked its poisonous claws across his flesh over five days ago. It had taken them two more days to reach the castle after the attack, riding hard all the while, and they had arrived late at night. Vaun’s official welcome had come the next morning, Drath remaining unconscious and bedridden through it all. The tall man had been in worse shape before, but the wizard was concerned he had not yet awakened.

The surgeon had told the mage and Thorne as they entered not to disturb Drath too much, and that his condition had not changed.
At least he’s not worse.
Merdel gazed with concern at his friend.

Drath’s wounds had been cleaned and dressed several times, and the poison had been all but eradicated from his body with potions and spells. The physician, a purist who believed ailments should be cured by natural means, had not been too excited about the use of magic, but Merdel had insisted, and the man was not going to argue with a wizard. Wishing he had studied more healing spells, and thinking that despite the doctor’s fears spell casting was quite natural, Merdel tried to feel into Drath’s body to make sure all was well.

Thorne now wandered around the lavish room where Drath lay. He tried sitting down on one of the many plush chairs but soon became agitated and began pacing again. His fingertips ran over the crystal goblets and bottles—all hopelessly empty—and other finery that lay on the carved wooden furniture around the room. He finally ended up standing by the window and looking worriedly out onto the royal gardens below, thinking that Drath had never been unconscious this long before.

“Thorne.” Merdel’s voice was soft from where he stood over Drath. “He’s waking.”

The dwarf turned from the window and hurried over to the bed. Drath had at last opened his eyes. The tall man’s face looked drawn and worn, for he’d lost several pounds, but his eyes were strong and knowing, though a little bloodshot.

“Well now, I see you two are again worrying over me like my mother does,” Drath’s voice croaked from between dry lips.

Merdel looked seriously at his friend. “You were very ill, Drath.”

“I’m still alive, so it can’t be all that bad.” He scanned the room. “Where’s Vaun?” No sooner had the words left his mouth than they heard a scream that seemed torn from the very depths of the underworld echo throughout the castle. Merdel and his companions exchanged brief glances before he and the dwarf hurried from the room and followed the running palace guard in the unmistakable direction of King Dobry’s private chambers.