The Bonding (The Song and the Rhythm) (31 page)

After four lifetimes of pure agony, Merdel went limp. All three people sitting around him picked him up and helped him to the large bed. For some reason, the white flowers, red leaves, and blue and gold scrollwork surrounding a falcon sewn in heavy thread in the center of the thick comforter stood out vividly to Vaun’s eyes. Years later, the young Swordsman could still describe to the smallest detail every inch of that covering.

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Thorne went to pour some ale to help revive the mage. Merdel had felt the pain rush out of him as Elak released the spell and had had to fight hard to remain conscious. He’d somehow managed to keep from vomiting, though his guts churned mightily. If he’d known how much Elak suffered on the other end, Merdel would’ve felt some measure of satisfaction. As Thorne pushed the strong, bitter drink between his lips, the wizard swore silently that he would stop Elak no matter what it cost him. If it was within his power, his old friend would feel even more pain than he’d just felt.

The ale served to strengthen him and put life back into his limbs. Sitting up wearily, he surveyed the worried faces of his companions. He smiled faintly. “At least now maybe you fireheads will quit arguing with me and take me seriously.” The others laughed softly, knowing that the return of his dry humor meant the wizard would be fine.

Vaun gasped. “I thought you were dying.”

The others nodded agreement.

Merdel nodded. “So did I. Now you see why Elak must not succeed. The pain I felt was nothing compared to what will happen to our worlds if he accomplishes his goal. Now you know why we have to stop him as soon as possible. Now you know why we must hunt down those leaf-brained elves and pound some sense into them. They could be jeopardizing our entire quest. Both worlds will feel the pain of the weakening barriers, and the more he does it, the longer it will take them to grow strong again. I don’t even want to entertain the idea of what will happen if he actually succeeds.”

They all nodded seriously and moved back to their chairs, reassuring the mage that they would do whatever they could to stop the Dark Wizard.

Merdel sipped more of his ale but said nothing more as he tried to collect his thoughts. He didn’t know if he could withstand another bout like that and considered the advantages and disadvantages of keeping such a close eye on the barriers. Aftershocks of pain still rippled through him, and his hand shook as he raised the cup to his lips.

At that instant King Dobry burst into the room. His triumphant smile was accompanied by a dark expression. “I have it. I know who sent that accursed Jaga, and he’ll pay dearly for it.”

“Who was it?” Drath was surprised by the change in the king. He’d never seen the slow-to-anger monarch quite this upset before. Whoever it was, Drath was glad that anger wasn’t directed at him.

“Celos did, and I’m going to tie the rope around his neck myself.” At that moment, he sounded very much like an angry Overlord of the Southern Kingdoms.

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The streets were crowded despite the rain sheeting down from the sky. It pounded onto the cobblestones and ran in rivulets down the sides of the streets, where it wasn’t collected into puddles too big to jump over. Gusts of wind blew it almost horizontally into the faces of the people passing by, but they didn’t seem too concerned about it. Even when cloaks were whipped up and hoods thrown back, the people simply straightened their garments, pulled their hoods back up, and kept marching through the deluge to their destinations.

Vaun had never seen rain so heavy and wished he had an umbrella, though that would surely have interrupted Merdel’s precious Balance. Inside would’ve been even nicer. He and Drath had roamed the city for hours now, and despite their well-oiled, heavy cloaks, they slowly became drenched.

“Can’t we go inside now?” The Swordsman had to raise his voice over the pounding of the rain. The full force of the storm, unbelievable as it seemed, had not quite reached Bordell, so at least he didn’t have to shout over thunder.

“Not yet. I want to know the minute they get back. They might decide to take their time, and that would be a bad idea considering the state of things. Besides, don’t you want to see the city?”

Vaun looked around. “What city?” The rain obscured everything, making the buildings only large dark spots looming around him and the people invisible until he bumped into them. He had only been in the city itself once before and had been too busy paying attention to where he went to see much else. He’d wanted to be able to return and see the city on his own without the risk of getting lost. Bordell, after all, was rather large.

Vaun remembered that the buildings were frequently two stories and that merchants dotted every street with their shops and stalls. In the older sections of town, most of the structures had only one floor, with warehouses dominating the area. All the buildings were mostly stone and wood and attracted the eye with their construction. A few of the wealthier shopkeepers and tavern owners had colorful signs or awnings to proclaim the establishment’s name, but decoration was mostly reserved for the houses. Even then, the plain buildings were finely made, Bordellan architects being haled the world over as some of the best. The fine gabling and well-fitted stones showed the pride the builders took in their work, and the designs demonstrated a sharp eye for detailing and craftsmanship.

The streets were all cobblestone, something Vaun had been told was extremely rare because of the cost and the work that went into paving even one street. There wasn’t too much trash or poor around, because Bordellans liked to take care not only of their city but also the inhabitants. Vaun had passed several charity establishments during his walk through town, as well as a number of different churches. Though King Dobry allowed his people to practice, or not practice, their own beliefs, he left no doubt as to where his loyalties lay. The massive Cathedral Temple of the Great God one block over was where the monarch attended his services.

Most of the homes were one-story affairs with cheerfully painted walls and windows looking out onto the streets. A few days ago, Vaun had seen what must have been every woman in the city standing just inside her open door shaking out rugs and drapes, while men were at work both inside and outside the city. Several houses had men and boys crawling around on top of them, and Thorne, who’d been his guide at the time, had explained that they were inspecting the roofs in preparation for the coming rains.

The nice weather they’d been having for the last month or so would end soon, and weeks of heavy rain always followed. In order to keep their homes from flooding, the men and their sons checked for holes in their roofs before the rain started. Usually, the wife would do a final check and would invariably find a spot her foolish husband had missed. There were even a few guilds designed specifically to prepare roofs for the rainy season, one of which was run by women. Supposedly, every home they inspected remained watertight. Vaun had smiled at that, too.

Now, however, as water ran off the hood of his cloak onto his face, he groaned irritably. Ordinarily he liked rain, but he wasn’t used to it coming down in a wall or on top of him. He preferred to sit inside or under a covered porch to watch a storm. This getting out in it, not to mention staying out in it, was plain idiocy, and he said as much to his rain-loving companion. Drath only laughed, the insensitive lout.

Vaun shrugged, trying to shift the Vaulka under his cloak, but despite the overly large size to accommodate for the weapon he couldn’t coerce it into a more comfortable position. The weight of the heavy cloak, much greater now that it was soaked, caused his sword belt to dig painfully into his shoulder. He considered moving the sword to his side, but passed that off as an affront to his Swordsman’s nature. This was the first time he’d felt the Vaulka as a hindrance, and that bothered him even more than the rain. He refused to use his other cloak, which had a hole cut in it to allow his sword hilt to be free of the confining cloth. He didn’t want his precious Vaulka to get wet.

Vaun wiped his face again. “Fire and blazing stone, Drath! What’re we doing out here? The rain’s so heavy I can barely see you walking next to me, much less spot the elves if they happen to pass by. Why don’t we go inside one of these taverns and dry off a little? I could use something warm to drink. I’d even drink some of Thorne’s throat-burning ale if it’d wash the damp and chill out of my bones. Then we can continue our stone-cursed search.”

Drath laughed. “You know, Vaun, you’re beginning to sound more and more like you belong here. Are you sure your parents didn’t find you somewhere?” Vaun frowned, but Drath couldn’t see him. “But we can’t do that. We have to talk to Rush and Dart the minute they enter the city. If they did go to Darim, we have to warn them about Dobry. He’s so mad he might hang them alongside Celos just for telling him about it.”

Vaun stepped close to his friend. “Do you think he’s right?” He didn’t like the idea of a fellow monarch betraying his king, nor the chances of what might happen if the Overlord proved right. Civil war could erupt if the king carried out his intention to hang King Celos, right or wrong.

“I don’t know.” Drath obviously contemplated the same grim possibilities. “Celos does disagree with Dobry a lot, and he’s always seemed jealous of his power. But I’m not inclined to accuse him of treason just yet, no matter what Dobry says. He may have said those words to Dobry a long time ago, but I don’t think he wants the Overlord dead. And I also don’t think he’d send a Jaga. That takes a rather low sort of individual, wouldn’t you say?”

Vaun shrugged.

“I’ve met Celos a few times, and he always struck me as fiercely loyal. He and Dobry just don’t see eye to eye all the time, and he expresses his opinions openly, which can put suspicion on him. I certainly hope the elves can tell us something, if that’s what they went to find out.”

“It’s been four days since they left.” A figure bumped into Vaun, and for once the person bothered to apologize. “Do you think they could’ve gotten there, found something, and come back by now?”

“It’s possible.” Drath peered out into the rain. He, like Vaun, stood with his arms crossed, trying to hold in as much body heat as the cold and rain would allow. “They once traveled from Celene to Tarquon in a week and a half on foot, and it takes longer than that on horses. It’s remarkable what those two scatterbrains can do if they think they can get something out of it. I’ve got a feeling they should be here soon.”

“Do you think King Dobry will wait until they arrive before acting on his assumption? I heard he’s already ordered the garrison readied for march and several stout ropes brought to his chambers. He seems a little upset.”

Drath scoffed. “A little! Are you sure we’re talking about the same man? I’ve never seen Dobry so angry. He looked like he probably did years ago when people say he had no control over his temper. I thought he’d explode at the mere thought of a traitor in his own house. Now that he thinks he has proof of one of his own monarch’s treachery, I suspect he’s ready to start cutting off heads. Fortunately, I think, or at least hope, he’ll be sensible and wait until we hear from Rush and Dart.”

As if summoned by the tall man’s words, the two elves ran through the crowd toward Drath and Vaun, Rush calling their names long before he reached them.

Drath started in surprise and moved with Vaun out from under the cover of the tavern’s overhang where he and the Swordsman had been conversing. Vaun exhaled in relief, glad he’d soon be out of the pounding rain. However, at the frantic looks the elves wore as they approached him, and seeing them running and shoving people aside, he worried something was very wrong.

“Drath!” Rush called again as he and his cousin stopped before the tall man and Vaun, panting heavily. “You have to get to the palace. Quickly.” He paused, trying to catch his breath.

“Why?” Drath bounced in agitation at the elf’s behavior. “What’s wrong?”

Rush finally caught his breath. “We saw two of Elak’s men on the way here. They were talking about some kind of orders to find out what was going on in the palace. Dart says they were looking into a mirror the whole time. From what he could hear, Elak’s been suspicious of King Dobry being involved with us and wanted to find out if it’s true. He sent those two men to spy on the palace, and while we were watching them they began arguing about how to carry out Elak’s last orders. I don’t know for sure, because we were pretty far away for even Dart to hear clearly, what with the rain and all, and we didn’t stay to hear all of it. They sounded like they were planning to murder Princess Tara.” The elf paused as he mentally calculated. “Today.”

Drath’s jaw dropped when the elf said that, but Vaun leapt into motion. He sprang past the elves and the gaping Drath and sprinted toward the castle. His cloak began to catch on his legs, so he tore it off without pausing and flung it away. Ignoring the people he pushed aside and the feel of the rain as it fell on his body and his sword, the young Swordsman charged toward the palace. He had vowed to himself to protect King Dobry and his family and would allow nothing to stand in the way of his promise. Even the people yelling “water-cursed Ramener” after him didn’t slow him.

Drath and the two elves recovered their surprise at Vaun’s action and hurried in pursuit of the running Swordsman. The youth quickly outdistanced them, however, even outrunning the swift-footed elves in his frenzy.

The palace gates, normally open during the day—King Dobry welcomed his subjects to seek audience with him—had been shut since the Jaga’s attack. The guards beside it recognized Vaun as he ran up to them, and they hurriedly opened the stout iron gates in response to his cries. Vaun charged through the gateway, telling the guards that murderers had invaded the castle and to send help to the princess’s room.

Vaun had no idea where her rooms were, but figured they had to be close to her father’s. As he passed through the front courtyard, he heard shouted orders behind him, proclaiming that the royal palace guard had heard of the danger. Once inside the main causeway and out of the rain, the youth slowed down, panting and scanning in all directions, trying to guess in which one lay his destination. His left side began to itch, but he ignored it in his haste to save the princess.