THE REQUIEM: THE WORLD IN A DOWNWARD TILT
PART ONE: MELCENA
Chapter Three: Things From Home
Several hours later, Sithli sat freshly bathed and nibbling from a bowl of fruit while she listened to Eriond give her news of her parents and of her homeland.
"Zakath has managed to secure Mal Yaska and Ashaba. Not so much that he wants to pull all his troops out. He's left garrisons of soldiers in both cities, but this victory means they've successfully toppled the last of the Dragon Cult's strongholds." Eriond was explaining patiently.
Mention of the Dragon Cult always set Sithli's teeth on edge. The group had come centerfold around her fourth year of age. Backwater things who were resistant against the change in theology, in tradition, in culture, and in the world in general. They preferred war with the east rather than the peace that had been moving over both the east and western nations like a mantle for the last two decades or so. Ironically they'd derived the ideal of cultism from an equally backwater conception that had been prominent in the western regions; those of Aloria who followed the bear god, Belar. Sithli's vendetta against them, however, was more than political. When she was ten years old the cult, furious about the Malloreon emperor's choice of wife, had made an attempt to assassinate the empress, her mother. The attempt had been unsuccessful and the assassin captured and punished personally by the emperor himself, but ever since that time the very mention of the Dragon Cult made Sithli see red for just a few seconds before she regained her composure. She could still recall the awful image of that dagger blade descending all to close to her mother's neck…
"He's preparing to expand into Karanda now. Tentatively at first, in order to gauge their reactions. The Karands aren't all that reasonable and it's hard to get them to behave in a rational fashion, but that'll change. One day. I'm not fond of force, but talking to them about their unfortunate habits won't be enough I'm afraid."
"I honestly think father prefers it that way." Sithli confessed with a thoughtful tip of her head. She'd washed her hair and the strange colored locks frizzed and waved as they dried. "He's suspicious of those who convert too quickly. Completely changing your faith shouldn't be that easy, he believes. Perhaps because it was so difficult for him."
"That's a complex theory." Eriond complimented her.
Sithli smiled. "I've been taking psychology courses." She admitted. Granted, she hadn't gone to many of them but she had done the reading and turned in the assignments, completed or close to. "Since we're talking about relations between the eastern kingdoms." She went on. "The crown prince of Cthol Murgos is also a student here."
"Prince Urgar."
"You know him?" Sithli asked startled. Although it shouldn't have. It made sense that Eriond would be familiar with the ruling familiars of other Angarak nations. All the same she felt a swift stab of jealousy and the idea that she had not been exclusively the recipient of his royal familiarity. It was silly. Eriond was a god and as such his love was limitless and universal, but whoever said that jealousy was rational.
"I've dropped in on the Urgas family from time to time." He said casually and gave her a knowing smile that made Sithli feel just a bit embarrassed. "King Urgit and I are old friends."
"If I had known I would have invited Urgar to join us. We've become friends. Rather, he's the core of my entire social group here at the university. He's outrageously popular. And strange for a Murgo."
"I've noticed that myself." Eriond agreed.
"Is his father like that too?" Sithli wondered. "I mean, I've read history books and heard stories. Malloreans and Murgos use to be grave enemies until about sixteen years ago. There still seems to be animosity between the people, however, even if there's peace on paper."
"Urgar and his family are very much like Zakath and yours. A ruler is in a different position than his people and he understands more. Not to mention Urgit and Zakath have a knowledge of events that their peoples don't. Racial discrimination won't last forever. If anything, time with breed it out. Even the oldest disputes settle. Look at Arendia, although it took them several thousand years."
Sithli perked noticeably at the mention of Arendia and her eyes became very hungry. "Since you brought up the west," she broached, dragging her thumb nail across the surface of a dark purple grape idly. "how are our friends in that direction? Beldaran and I have been writing to each other, but I haven't gotten a letter in some months."
Eriond smiled at her happily. "They're well. Beldaran caught a bad chill this winter, but she's recovering quickly. She intends to write you in the next week."
"I'm glad she's better." Sithli said heartfelt as she thought about the small Rivan princess with her honey blonde hair and huge green eyes. Although half a world a way she and Beldaran had been very good friends, ever since they first met during an imperial visit to Aloria when Sithli had been five years old. "How are the others?"
"Geran is spending time with his cousins in Tolnedra. Things have been very quiet on the Isle of Winds, but he needs the chance to experience political turbulence in order to learn how to deal with it. The disputes between the great houses will give him a bit of exposure. Ce'dana, Xerell, and Polxene are well, although Xerell also caught her sister's winter illness. Perhaps because they both spend so much time outdoors. Queen Ce'Nedra is pregnant again. She's due for mid autumn. Polgara and Durnik are still down in the Vale with Garrick and Danor. Belgarath and Poledra have been spending time up in the mountains."
"What are they doing up there?"
"They visited the Ulgos for a while. Poledra stayed with them for quite some time a while back, so she's very fond of Ulgos. And the new Gorim is the son of a friend of theirs so they dropped in to see how things they were. Then they headed out to the forests. Just for the sake of going, really. After years of having to go from one place to another for a specific reason, I imagine the simple pleasure in going where one wishes for no purpose at all is much greater than it is for normal people."
Sithli filed that piece of introspection away for use in her psychology glass. They talked for a bit longer, primarily about Sithli's studies. She imagined he was saving the information in order to recount to her father, so Sithli embellished her work shamelessly and prudently decided not to mention her neglect of certain aspect. Then, an hour or so before night fall, Eriond departed to return to Mallorea.
The visit had kept her in her room for a large portion of the day, so she gathered up her books and relocated to one of the study rooms. She met Malden on the way and the two of them took up occupance in number five study where Sithli settled in to read The Pearl Master's Garden while Malden preformed prodigies of mathematics to present to his professor the next morning. The sun had been set for an hour or two when there was a knock at the door and Malden admitted Urgar and Eridis into the room. Sithli looked up from her book as Urgar brought Eridis around the table and sad her down in Malden's chair.
"Now," Urgar said gently, but firmly. "tell them what you told me."
"Nathalie went down into the town." Eridis said obediently. "I couldn't stop her."
Sithli and Malden exchanged a glance of concern and then Malden looked back at their friend. "After curfew?"
Helplessly, Eridis lifted her hands. "She's been getting more and more homesick lately. She keeps going on about the scent of pine in the frosty air and the open valley. She missed the small of Akavit too. Some sailor promised to sell her a bottle of the stuff, if she came to fetch is this evening. I caught her as she was sneaking out of the dormitory and made her tell me where she was going, but I couldn't stop her."
"So she came to me and I thought we should all be informed." Urgar said casually, the same we he said most everything. He glanced at Malden first and Sithli wondered if he'd primarily been looking for the other, larger boy and she had just happened to be there when he found him. Urgar swung his attention to her. "Do you find that book absorbing?"
"Young Argul's all right," Sithli replied, "but on the whole, no. Are we to go a-roving?"
"It would be awfully slack of us to stay in, I suppose." Urgar agreed.
Malden was looking at Eridis. "Where was Nathalie supposed to meet this sailor?"
"At a tavern. Some place called The Happy Wench."
Sithli made a face. "Isn't that just revolting."
Eridis nodded her agreement. Urgar and Malden were suspiciously quiet and both boys had taken a sudden rapt interest in the carpet.
Work discarded, Urgar led Sithli, Eridis, and Malden out of number five study, down a crooked staircase, over a window sill, and into the night. It was cloudless, with moon enough to cast shadows.
Between the dormitory and the Cordelion towers, as the Eridis climbed through the window, Sithli paused beside Urgar and forgot anxiety over Nathalie and worry about breaking curfew in her delight with the darkness. Since she had arrived at the university, Sithli had not been outside the confines of the school at night without a reliable escort. By every measure Sithli had ever heard of, her companions failed to qualify as a reliable escort. She drew a deep breath, savoring the chill of the evening, the scent of the sea, and her unaccustomed freedom. When the others joined her, Urgar led them through the Dean's garden, where an oak tree provided means to cross the college wall. In short order they were away from the university and moving through the streets of the city.
"This is the place." Eridis said as the came upon a run down tavern near the harbor. Light from the windows through golden squares of light on the dark streets and the noise from inside was raucous. A faded sign swung in the sea breeze above the door. The 'Happy' had faded into the wood so it was no longer discernable and only the word 'Wench' could be made out now.
Inside, The Happy Wench was not all that different from The White Fleece, back home. A bit smaller, much dirtier, it held a few wooden tables flanked with benches. On one side of the room was a spacious fireplace, where dying embers cast enough light to give the room a sullen glow. At the far end of the room stood a sailor with a dark green bottle in one hand, and in the other, Nathalie's wrist.
At the sight of her rescuers, Nathalie went wide eyed with relief and then glared at the sailor. "Now you have to let me go."
Malden advanced inside and Sithli and Eridis stayed in the doorway as Urgar crossed immediately to the fireplace and helped himself to the poker from the rack of the tolls beside the hearth. Without haste, he put more wood on the fire and then stirred the coals judiciously.
"Aquavit is filthy stuff, Nat," Sithli said. "You'd best come with us."
Nathalie tossed her sheaf of golden hair angrily. "He won't let me go."
Urgar left the fireplace and advanced towards Nathalie and the sailor, poker at his side. Carefully he said, "Let Nathalie go." The words sounded natural enough, but Sithli recognized the casual way he was holding the poker as not so flippant as it seemed.
Sithli heard her voice as if it belonged to someone else. "Nathalie, move!"
At that moment the blonde girl twisted aside. She and Eridis rushed forward. The sailor pushed Nathalie into them and brought his bottle down hard on the edge of the table. A crash, a thick scent of caraway and raw spirit, and the broken neck of the bottle was steady in his hand. Eridis made a sound of alarm. Urgar was already on guard. Before the sailor stepped towards him, he lunged. The tip of the poker caught him on the breast bone with a noise like thumping a melon. The sailor staggered but slipped aside. Glass glinted as he slashed. Urgar parried with a blow that snapped bone. The sailor dropped the bottle and fell to his knees, cursing.
"Go." Urgar ordered them and they retreated.
They did not get far. Benches scrapped against the wooden floor as a group of six men stood up. One went to check on the sailor while the others faced the little group with narrowed gazes.
"I hope you're ready to make amends for the damage done to our friend there. One of you will have to be tending to his every need." He leered at the group and then, quick as lightening, grabbed Eridis by the wrist and dragged her forward. "This one I think. Pretty little--"
He didn't get further. They had all forgotten about Malden. The man holding Eridis looked quite shocked at the blade that suddenly sprouted from his shoulder. He howled in pain, releasing the door to clutch at the skewered arm. Malden skipped out of the way of his lumber gait, circling around to join the rest of them. He exchanged approving, half grinning expressions with Urgar. Three men rushed the two boys and Urgar and Malden surged forward to meet them.
Sithli was dragging Nathalie, who had burst into tears, towards the door as she searched the crowd for Eridis, who had disappeared. Their way was immediately hindered by another of the sailors. Finding her facing him, he drew a sword from his belt and brandished it, revealing, brown teeth in a leering grin. Sithli placed herself between the man and the weeping girl, eying the deadly edge of his weapon.
"Sithli!" Eridis's voice was an angry snap from her left and she tossed a pair of kitchen knives in Sithli's direction.
She plucked them from the air as the sailor lunged with his sword. She jumped out of the way, shoving Nathalie towards the door. The man stumbled passed her, his unprotected back in her sights. Sithli felt a bubble of hilarity building up in her chest. Some of her reckless delight was till with her and this did not seem the appropriate place to feel delighted. She snapped her wrist and the knives left her fingers. One sailed through his boot and into the foot it protected, burying mid way to the hilt. The other slid past, though not into, his hand. The edge sheared skin away. The sailor cursed, dropping the sword from his injured hand and dropped low against his skewered foot.
"Are you alright?" Malden asked. He and Urgar had crossed the floor to them quickly, picking over the littered bodies of the sailors as they came. Urgar's sleeve had been slashed open and his arm was bleeding, but he looked otherwise unscathed.
The last of their assailants had been discarded of. There was a man bleeding at her feet and Sithli was hard pressed to disguise her revulsion. He was cursing, fluently and violently and with terms that made her want to cover his mouth with her hands. Sithli reminded herself that she was a string of pearls and fell into the perfectly balanced posture that Dame Brachet had taught her. She was feeling a bit wrung out now; as if, like a sponge, she'd been filled to the brim with something substantial and then emptied.
The sharp nosed prince had glanced at the swearing sailor and then at Sithli in some surprise. "Nice work."
In the aftermath, Eridis was doing what she did best and taking command of restoring order, straightening all the little things up. Nathalie had begun to sniffle slightly. Eridis picked the poker up from the floor and pressed it into the girl's hands. "Put this back on the fireplace." She turned and put her arm around Nathalie's shoulders and shook the crying girl gently. "Idiot."
"I know." Said Nathalie, hanging her head.
Malden produced a flawlessly clean handkerchief and gave it to Nathalie. Someone had come to help drag the wounded sailor from the floor and Urgar went to retrieve the knives, frowning at the blood stains on them. He picked up a rag from the table and wiped the blade clean. Watching made Sithli just a bit ill from memory.
"Let's go outside." Eridis suggested, apparently noticing Sithli's wan color. "We'll wait out there for the gentlemen."
Eridis led them out into the cool night as Urgar was returning the knives to the tavern keeper and making apologies. In short order Urgar and Malden emerged from inside the tavern and they began the stealthy trek back up to the university. Under the oak tree they paused.
"Nathalie first." Sithli whispered to Urgar and he nodded. Malden had gone over to the other side of the wall already, so that he could help them down once they were over the side.
Urgar helped Nathalie up into the rustling branches of the tree and then Eridis. Then he turned to Sithli, but the sound of footsteps from around the side of the wall made them freeze in their tracks and their blood ran cold. Both went very still and the murmur of voice, the words indiscernible, reached them. It seemed like a rustle I the night or a dull static that filled her ears. A vast curiosity made her legs twitch.
"I'm going to look." Sithli whispered to Urgar. He made a sound of protest but was too late. She slipped off nibbling into the night, rounding the university wall.
She heard noise behind her, but didn't see Urgar when she glanced back along the unlit lanes. The voices were nearer, but Sithli still couldn't make out words. If it was just a simple group of Melcenes, out late, there would be nothing to worry about. But if it was the university administrators or the guards, it would be best if she turned herself in. It would save her friends. At best she'd get a scolding and at worst she'd be sent home, which would be awfully ironic considering how she'd fought against coming in the first place.
Another corner was rounded and she froze abruptly. A street lamp illuminated an alley wall just across the lane, throwing a pair of shadows into sharp relief against the stone. The curve and length of hair suggested female, but the lines of the silhouette suggested men's garb. The voices were intelligible now. There were two of them, both female and fairly young.
"Once upon a time, there was a great king," one was saying.
"A great king." The other agreed.
Sithli crouched down her eyes going wide. They sounded like players. Was there a performance going on? But why so late? Maybe they were simply practicing. The voices had a strange sort of melody to them, that made her feel dreamy and tired. She listened on, forgetting her danger.
"However one day a great blow was struck upon the body of the king. So great a blow was it that it left a mighty wound upon the king."
"And the wound split the king's heart in two and it fell right out of his chest. And one half of his heart was carried off by an owl and the other by fearsome dragon."
"And yet the wound did not bring the king peace of death. Instead he was injured and divided as the wound festered."
"But what happens!? What happens to a wound that is left to fester? Do you know?"
"It must be patched!" The other responded. "One must go and patched the wound."
"One must go and patch the wound." The first echoed. "A hundred millennia beyond end of the world. It'll be quite a journey…."
"Sithli!" She jumped nearly out of her skin when she felt the hand on her arm and someone calling her name in her ear. Listening to the conversation had Her head snapped around to face Urgar, who was out of breath and breathing heavily. "What are you doing!" He practically screamed at her.
"The voices. They were players." She said, pointing towards the alley. But the light had gone out and both the shadows and the voices had vanished.
"Come on." Urgar said, ignoring her bewilderment and tugging on her arm. He'd reduced his voice to a murmur again. "The others are worried. We need to get back."
She let him drag her back down the lane that she'd come. One look was cast over her shoulder back at the alleyway, but the darkness from that direction was complete and she saw only the black shape of a cat, disappearing across the rooftops.
