Title: Disturbing Revelations: 27 of ?
Author: Sam
Series: A Deeper Magic
Last Chapter: Leona is worse. Wyatt has been injured by some Long Coats but rescued by DG using his revolver. She has demanded to see Randu.
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The long night finally came to an end with the stuttering trill of a bird's first morning song. Sunlight warmed his face, bringing awareness to the Royal Consort. He stretched luxuriously, like a great desert feline, before turning towards the source of light: the door to the hut stood open, revealing a small, industrious group of Nature Clansmen readying three horses, cooking food, and packing up the campsite. Glancing the other way, Ahamo's brown eyes fell on the gentle features of his wife, the queen. He stretched once more then sat up, smiling fondly at his spouse of over thirty annuals.
The queen opened her lavender colored eyes and smiled in return. As he offered her a hand to assist in her rising, she winced; her injuries had not healed overnight. She moved slowly, painfully, as Ahamo aided her in sitting up. He reached for the pot of tincture he'd been provided the night before and started massaging the medicine into his wife's bruises and sore muscles. Silently, she allowed him to tend her injuries.
Just as he finished aiding her dressing, tying her corset for her, Gyles entered the hut without warning. The scarred man merely nodded to the pair and limped to a storage box beside the pallet. He squatted awkwardly, his injured leg stretched outwards as he balanced more on his one bent leg beneath him. Carefully, he pulled items out of the chest and lined them up ready for packing. He finished quickly then turned to the royal couple. "Fynch has food for you both, your majesties. He's ready to accompany you to the Vinkus River."
Lavender sent the old retainer a smile and said, "thank you, Gyles."
He seemed pleased with the simple gratitude of the queen, bringing an answering smile to Ahamo's face.
The pair moved carefully from the hut, followed by Gyles who retrieved a pack for the supplies still inside. Ahamo held Lavender's arm gently, looking around the industrious group for the young man they'd met the evening before. When he spotted the man, Ahamo felt a frisson of surprise.
Fynch had changed from his traditional Nature Clan clothing into more conservative Lux Clan trousers and shirt with vest and boots. The hat he sported shaded the scar down the left side of his face. His amber-set armlet was the only thing out of place, as he wore it over the sleeve of his shirt. The young man nodded to the pair and turned to pull some bowls from the banked fire. He stood and brought the food over, offering them silently, a slight frown on his scarified face, light green eyes watchful.
Lavender smiled. "Thank you, Fynch." She took the bowls carefully as he gestured towards a makeshift bench made of a plank of wood over two solid boxes. Lavender turned her smile up to her husband.
With a grateful nod to the youth, Ahamo guided his wife to the proffered seat, aiding her in getting comfortable on the hard wooden plank. She handed over his breakfast as he sank down beside her. "Thanks, love," he said and began to eat, still watching the Clansmen working around them.
Surprisingly, Fynch sank into a sitting position, legs folded in a crosswise pattern, next to the couple. His voice sounded strong and sure, though he spoke barely above a whisper, as he said, "when you have broken your fast, we will leave here. At the juncture of the road and river, I will go north to give your message to the resistance." He looked up at the pair. "Your shadow may follow us or follow Umpa to Kiamo Ko."
"Shadow . . ." Ahamo nodded. "Then we are being followed."
"Yes," Fynch acknowledged then fell silent, letting the couple finish their meal, though all three had taken to watching beyond the industrious clansmen to the horizon. A very long moment passed before Fynch broke the quiet once more. "Do you want a guide to Kvon Altar?" He had accepted the task given him, but his attitude spoke about his concern for the still injured older woman and her magicless escort.
Ahamo shook his head, running a tanned hand through his blond hair. "No. We know the way, Fynch. We need that message to get to Jeb and the resistance more than we need help getting to Kvon Altar." He paused as the younger man nodded slowly then added, "But we appreciate the offer, Fynch. When we return north, we will be glad of your support in the coming war." Ahamo knew there was no avoiding a battle with the Long Coat invaders. He hoped they'd have the allies they needed to defeat the well-trained witch's troops.
Finally, they finished eating and a woman dressed in hunting gear took the bowls without comment. She merely glanced at the Lux Clan members intensely then walked to the fire and started scrubbing the dishes clean in the stream close by. Another woman thrust packs of supplies at the trio then backed off after Ahamo took them and passed one to Fynch and another to Lavender. Ahamo stood, followed by the other two.
Leading their horses, and a third gelding, over, Gyles and another man aided the travellers in mounting and settling their packs. Softly, the old Tin Man said, "May the trees shelter you, the grasses feed you, and the light guide you, your majesties." He let the bridle of the queen's mare go and gave the horse a light slap on the rump, causing her to start at a slow gait. The other two horses followed as Gyles lifted his hand in farewell. Fynch never looked back at his uncle or his people.
Ahamo noticed behind them that Gyles turned to a woman who held a plain grey-brown bird of medium build. The man ran his hands over the bird, concentrating on the legs, then stepped back. The woman lifted the bird to the sky and thrust it upwards, causing the bird to flap his wings to catch itself. The bird, once stable, flew southward and disappeared over the vast grasslands. The Royal Consort turned in his saddle facing the path the trio rode, storing the knowledge of the bird event in his memory but not questioning such behavior. The Nature Clan often used birds or dogs as messengers; Gyles would have been calling in help from another area.
Unlike the ride of the night before, this day no one spoke, though the tension remained just as high due to the urgency of their quest. Lavender, while still stiff and sore, seemed to benefit from the medicine for the morning. They rode at a quicker pace and reached the juncture of the Old Road and the Vinkus River within a couple of hours.
Fynch turned in his saddle and pulled out a Lux jacket and slid it on, over the shirt, vest, and unique armband. Finally, except for his shadowed scarred face, the man resembled anyone from the outlying towns near Central City rather than a Nature Clan hunter. He nodded to the royal couple and said "May the trees shelter you, the grasses feed you, and the light guide you. Until we meet again." Without waiting for a response, he turned and kicked his horse into a gallop, heading for the north and old Shiz Academy.
"Whoa," Ahamo let out a whoosh of breath. "They're not too chatty, are they?" He asked his wife.
She laughed and nodded. "I've never known them to be, but they are good-hearted and caring. I sometimes think they care so much it can endanger them."
He sighed in mute agreement and turned his horse south towards the Crack in the O. as Lavender turned her mare and kept up to the light canter he set them. Without the grim presence of Fynch, the atmosphere felt lighter. Ahamo called to Lavender "we'll be at the bridge an hour after luncheon at this pace."
She nodded and threw a smile at him, apparently concentrating on keeping her seat and controlling her pain. She seemed happy, nonetheless, enjoying her ride through their beautiful kingdom.
The hours ran quickly as the pair rode through grasslands, trees, and farms. They didn't talk, but they kept shooting smiles and loving glances back and forth. The suns rose high in the sky, but the royal pair opted to hold off on their midday meal until after crossing the Crack. They pressed on until they crested the rise above the bridge, about an hour after zenith. The stopped on the hill.
Below stretched the long bridge over a gorge dropping miles into a deep, fast rushing river. The Crack seemed to split the world in half and fall away into a distant rumbling abyss. What worried Ahamo and Lavender, however, were the four Long Coat guards posted two at either end of the only crossing.
Ahamo frowned. "Whoever attacked the Tower has taken the Crack as well? So, they are also taking the south . . ."
Lavender stiffly dismounted her mare without aid, and Ahamo followed suit. His wife looked at him. "We need to cross," she commented softly.
He nodded, gripping both sets of reins. "We can brazen our way over, Love." He studied the armed men, the heavy rifles, the determination in the Long Coat guards.
"Yes, let's," she replied and then slowly, almost casually, walked her horse down the hill towards the bridge.
Ahamo followed, keeping a smile on his face.
When they reached the beginning of the bridge, the guards came to sudden attention. One called out "identification . . . please." The last seemed to have been added out of respect, perhaps the man recognized the royal couple.
Not leaving any doubt, Lavender offered a gentle smile and said "Queen Lavender and the Royal Consort, Henry."
The name had been used so little since he'd come to the O.Z. that Ahamo barely recognized his birth name, more used to his wife's nickname for him. The rest of the kingdom would, of course know him by the more formal name the queen had given. Ahamo offered the guards a friendly smile.
A look exchanged between the young men in black leather then the Long Coats looked back at the royal couple. The same one who had offered the challenge said, "and, uh, where are you headed, your majesties?" He seemed to be trying to stay severe but had obviously been raised in Lux territory and had some respect for his rulers despite his current allegiance.
With a soft, friendly laugh, Lavender said "the family wishes to tour the O.Z. and are starting in the south."
Suddenly, the guards relaxed and the spokesman smiled back. "Ah, that's why Princess Azkadellia came through an hour ago."
Nodding, Lavender said, "yes, we got separated. I love the land and wished to take my time."
The second guard spoke up, sounding puzzled, "Sergeant, is that why she took the commander with her?"
"The Commander?" Ahamo asked lightly, trying to keep his manner friendly, amiable. "Commander Zero?" he guessed.
"Yes, sir," the sergeant affirmed. "He was heading north but the princess turned him around and took him back south. He was injured pretty badly so she had her guard tie him to the horse." He frowned suddenly. "Um . . . is the commander, uh, being disciplined?"
Lavender lifted a fine grey eyebrow and looked at the sergeant directly. "He hasn't been seen for sometime, so he will be questioned as to his defection, but it should be no concern to someone doing his duty."
Ahamo, acting on instinct, asked "has Princess Leona settled well?"
Surprise crossed the men's faces then they both smiled, looking relieved. "I have not heard, sir," the sergeant responded, his voice reflecting happiness. "Commander Randu has only ordered that we restrict travel between the north and south to those who are authorized."
"Well, keep up the good work, Sergeant," Ahamo praised, mentally noting that these guards thought the royal couple were aiding in Princess Leona's supposed coup. But the name Randu was new to the equation. "We'll be on our way and leave you to your work."
The younger officer frowned and bit his lip. Finally, he turned to the sergeant and made no secret of his doubt. "Should we allow them to go, Sergeant? Didn't the commander say they could be a threat?"
"Threat?" Lavender asked softly. "Do I seem a threat, Private? I cannot even produce a nightlight, and everyone knows my husband is magicless. How can we be threats?" She offered another smile. "It is time for me to retire, I think, and let someone with power take on the burdens of rulership."
Standing stiffly, the sergeant glared at the private. "They already know of the commander's plans for Princess Leona. If they were a threat, they wouldn't be a party to this." He turned and bowed formally to the royal pair. "Please, enjoy your tour, your majesty. By the time you've finished, I am sure the Princess will be installed well and be ready to accept the mantle you leave behind."
Lavender nodded in returned. "I am sure the princess which follows me will make a good queen for all the O.Z."
With that, the guards moved out of their way and let the pair make their leisurely way across the bridge. The Long Coats radioed the guards at the other end to grant the couple free access to the southern road. Ahamo and Lavender silently crossed and nodded acknowledgement to that pair before mounting on the far side of the bridge. The horses, at a slow walk, started once more on the path.
When far enough from the guards to avoid being overheard, Ahamo looked at his wife, frowning in worry. "Az has Zero?"
His wife nodded, seeming equally worried. "We now know who is trying to put Leona on the throne. What part does Zero have in the scheme? And . . ." she looked over at Ahamo, "is Az in danger?"
He sighed and shook his head. "I can only hope Dyan continues to protect her. That he can stop anything Zero might try."
The rulers of the O.Z. simultaneously kicked their horses into a fast gallop, despite Lavender's injuries. They needed to get to Kvon Altar and treaty with the Phlogiston Clan as soon as may be. Az and Dylan would have to be trusted to be able to deal with the former commander and possibly one of their deadliest adversaries.
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Once they had made it down the corridor, Jeb turned to look at Mariah. "If we're going to the guild fighters, we'll need to either go through the north or the south east. The south east might be a better choice, even with Central City on the way and the papay afterwards. I used to live that way and know the road well."
Mariah centered her liquid amber eyes on the resistance leader and nodded once.
He continued. "We'll need disguises to get through the city."
She smiled and gestured from him to her and back to him, her eyes seeming to dance in apparent amusement.
Jeb flushed, somehow understanding the idea. "Uh . . . okay, I guess it did work." He couldn't help but recall the night before when, despite his drugged state, they'd slipped through Central City security by pretending to be newlyweds. "But I don't think wearing my uniform's a good idea this trip."
With a soft pat on his arm, Mariah gestured towards a man dressed in traditional Lux shirt and vest, sporting the kilt of the eastern resistance fighters. Jeb nodded to her, and they both moved over to the man obviously guarding a thick metal door. Jeb knew all of the resistance fighters having been one of the leaders, and this man was no stranger.
"Lincoln?"
"Captain?" The man with the muddy-brown hair and dark green eyes stood at attention, despite Jeb's typical lax attitude towards salutes and other military niceties. At Jeb's nod, the man grinned widely and relaxed. "Glad to see you, Sir. Now we'll get somewhere. I know we're supposed to meet here, but most of us don't even know what's happening, Sir."
Jeb held up a hand. "The royal family are under attack again, but not from the witch," he hurried to explain. "Right now, we need to gather as many allies as we can. I'm going to see if any of the guild fighters will join us, but I need some other clothes." He gestured towards his damaged uniform. "This is too obvious."
Lincoln studied Jeb for a long moment, but respectfully did not check over Mariah. After awhile, the man nodded and gestured down the hall. "Three more doors, Sir, willt ake you to clothing stores. This here's arms. Need a weapon?"
"No," Jeb shook his head, smiling grimly, once more falling into his former role of leader of a ragtag group of freedom fighters. "Save those for the men fighting. I'm only on a recruiting run. I'll just take my sword." He lifted a foot to walk away but stopped and turned back to the now frowning Lincoln. "The royal family should be showing up in the next few days. Dylan may be among them. In my place, Dylan's in charge, but if he doesn't show, spread the word that someone of the royal house will take over until I return."
The man nodded, apparently untroubled by the command. Jeb had often gone on lone or small scouting missions, leaving different people in charge each time to give his men and women experience leading.
"Good man," Jeb clapped his shoulder and turned to lead Mariah down the hall to the clothing stores, a room not under guard.
Inside, Jeb started looking through for comfortable pants, shirt, and vest. He decided to sport thick tipless gloves, such as the ones Mariah had used to help him the day before, and a hat much like his father's to shade his face and emotions from observation. Having gathered most of what he looked for, Jeb turned and froze, blue-grey eyes widening in shock.
His companion had stripped down right there and stood only in plain underpants and chest strap, her ring flashing like a blue star in the lamp of the storage room while the hateful collar gleamed like dull silver. Jeb swallowed, unable to take his eyes off her pale, graceful body a she stepped into an ankle-length skirt.
Flushing, knowing she was putting the outfit on wrong, Jeb cleared his throat, drawing Mariah's attention. "Over your head . . ." he blushed as he strode over to help. "The skirt goes over your head, then the tunic, then the corset." He only knew how women's clothing worked because his mother had sometimes cared for a neighbor's little girl when he'd been small. "Let me help," he offered.
She smiled and stepped back out of the skirt then nodded and offered him the sturdy piece of fabric; at least she'd chosen well for a hard journey. As Jeb took the skirt, Mariah picked up a matching tunic and also offered it to him. Again, he took the clothing item, but had to chuckle as she next offered him a vest and matching corset.
"Whoa, one at a time, girl!" He laughed softly and saw the answering sparkle in her laughter-crinkled eyes. "Ah, teasing me, are you?" Jeb put the clothing down on a nearby shelf and gestured her to come closer. He quickly slipped the skirt then tunic over her head, having her hold them in place. Carefully, he wrapped the corset around her waist and began to carefully tie the stays, recalling his mother's long ago instructions to the neighboring girl to "tie them to hold not harm. Breathing is important." Jeb unconsciously repeated his mother's long ago instructions out loud.
Mariah nodded at his advice, and turned as he finished, offering him her quick smile. She picked up the vest and slid into it then sank to the floor and began pulling on some stockings the same color as the vest and corset she'd chosen.
Jeb turned and finished gathering his own clothes then looked around for a place to change. Flushing once more, he realized that shyness would waste time. If Mariah could trust him enough to dress in front of him, and even let him help her dress, he could show the same trust. Thus, the young man quickly stripped from the damaged royal uniform and reached for the trousers.
His hand met Mariah's, sending a warmth through his fingers and up his arm. Lifting startled eyes, he met Mariah's serious ones. She no longer smiled playfully at him. Rather, the woman handed over the trousers and picked up the shirt, ready to offer him the same assistance he'd provided her. Shaking off his discomfort, Jeb slipped on the trousers and shirt, beginning to button it.
"Once we get to Central City, we'll look for my friend. His name's Norison." He turned and watched her as she picked up his chosen vest and moved around behind him. He let her slide the vest over his arms and settle it on his shoulders then went back to fastening his buttons. "Once we've talked to Norison, we'll go out the south gate of the city and head west on the Old Brick Route." Pushing the last button into place, Jeb lifted his eyes to meet hers and stopped speaking.
Mariah stood quite close, not a foot away, and she watched him intently, as if every syllable held the most import. As Jeb fell silent, Mariah reached down and slid her ring from her finger. She reached out and grabbed his hand, lifting it and slipping the silver band with the sapphire stone over Jeb's almost feminine-slim finger. She smiled briefly as she twisted the ring to hide the sapphire in his palm. Then, meeting his eyes once more, Mariah leaned in and softly brushed her lips over his.
She stepped back and turned to put on a pair of protective, tipless gloves.
"Mariah?" Jeb questioned, his voice barely a whisper.
The Spiritus woman looked at him, her expression as serious as normal, no sign of the emotions or thoughts she kept inside. Rather, Mariah tossed him a pair of gloves then slid into a pair of sturdy boots. She walked from the room, signalling her readiness to begin their next journey.
Jeb hurried to finish dressing, strapped on his sword, and followed her out, watching as she pulled her long braid up into a ponytail at the top of her head, letting the ends of a ribbon trail down to her shoulders.
Soon, provisioned for a three day journey, the pair once more mounted the seat of the simple farm wagon from the day before. Jeb took the reins and flicked them, starting the horse in a steady walk: slow, but fitting for their disguise. It took long minutes for the cart to finally crest a small rise and leave the borders of the old Shiz Academy behind.
The young resistance fighter knew he should address what had happened between them in the store room, and even the night before, but he felt reluctant to bring it up. He wondered if he was making too much of the kisses. Last night, she'd kissed him to first get them past security then to transfer much needed medicine to him. But this morning's kiss . . . he wasn't sure what Mariah had meant by that . . . and why she had given him her ring.
Thus the trip to Central City stretched in silence. Neither made an attempt to communicate with the other. When, several hours later, they arrived at the Western Gate of Central City, the loud challenge of the guards came as a jarring shock.
As the Long Coat held his gun in a loose grip, Jeb reminded himself that they were supposed to be newly married and travelling to the city for their honeymoon. He wondered just how a newly married man should act. Clearing his throat, for the first time uncomfortable with one of the disguises he adopted, Jeb said, "we're coming to the city for a hotel . . . uh . . ." he flushed.
The guard gave Jeb a strange look and glanced over Mariah, who slipped a hand over her mouth as if shy. She rolled her liquid amber eyes to meet Jeb's blue-grey then lowered her hand, revealing a dazzling smile. The Long Coat seemed mesmerized by the redhead's sudden joy. The guard blinked and cleared his own throat.
"Newly married then?" he guessed and Mariah nodded, leaned her head on Jeb's shoulder.
Slipping an arm around Mariah's waist, Jeb nodded. "Yes, sir. We're here for our honeymoon," he said, his voice cracking with nerves. 'Damn, get yourself together!' Jeb cursed himself, what was it about this woman that turned his known world upside down? He's been around women for his entire life, led them into battle, nursed them on their deathbeds, and even once watched as a young woman gave birth to a stillborn deep in the forest when they couldn't get her to medical help due to Long Coat raids. How could this mute, magic-blocked woman he'd only met the day before make his heart pound and his brain whirl?
Blinking, Jeb pushed his random thoughts away and realized the guard had given them permission to pass through the gate. The resistance leader nodded and gave a smile to Mariah, knowing he'd have to keep his control; it'd be dangerous to let his guard down. They were at war, after all.
Within minutes, the cart pulled up in front of a nondescript club, dark and quiet in the full glare of the morning. Jeb sat for a long moment, silently contemplating the brick and wood building with the unlit gas-powered lights. Finally, a soft touch on his arm drew his attention. Looking up, he exchanged frowns with Mariah. Finally, he nodded and jumped from the cart, turning to grasp her waist and help her down.
Her skirts swished around her legs in a soft whisper of movement, but Jeb could only wonder if she preferred these long skirts or the trousers he'd first seen her in. He shook his head and ignored the confusion that came to her whiskey-colored eyes. Fortunately, he didn't have to explain to her as she merely turned towards the building, seemingly content to let him keep his thoughts to himself. He turned to follow her.
Standing, watching them intently, Norison leaned against the plain wall. The night before he'd been dressed for an evening with rich friends. This day, the older resistance fighter had shed the evening clothes for workman's garb, more suitable for construction work than attending parties. Once the two visitors had noticed him, Norison pushed from the wall and strode to them, not smiling.
Stopping before Norison, Jeb softly said, "the old academy." With that, he slid an arm around Mariah's waist and guided her around the other man, as if avoiding a stranger. He guided her down the walkway to a small shop two buildings down. Inside, Jeb looked at the woman pressed against him.
"See anything you want?" he asked softly, thankful for her serious expression. Her rare smile threw his entire being into chaos and made it hard to concentrate on their mission. He had become used to her more somber, intense manner and felt comfortable around that version of Mariah.
With a bare nod, Mariah answered Jeb's question. She moved to a display of simple lace and gestured to a spool of the delicately woven cream colored patterns. Turning her body, rather than her collar-encased neck, Mariah gestured again to the lace.
Nodding, Jeb fetched the clerk and pointed out Mariah's selection. "A yard of that lace, please," he said then watched as the woman cut the appropriate length and wrapped it in paper. Jeb fished a pair of coins from his pocket and passed them to the women, took the packet, and handed it to Mariah, who merely took it with a neutral expression.
Jeb slid his arm around her waist once more and guided her from the store, much like she was handicapped or invalid. He noticed Norison had disappeared, but didn't try to spot the older man, hoping he'd taken the message to heart. Rather, Jeb handed Mariah back into the cart, hopped up to the seat, and took the reins. He settled then started the horse into a steady walk through the late morning traffic, heading for the southern gate and the real start of their desperate quest.
Mariah seemed to be lost in her own thoughts, watching the walking crowd and the driving vehicles as they passed.
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Continued in Chapter Twenty-Eight: A Game of Chess
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The Twelve Clans of the Outer Zone with the Ruling House of Each Clan:
Aquam Clan/ House of Rimi . . . (Ice- Mount Runcible)
Cogitatio Clan/ House of Idae . . . (Milltown)
Corde Clan/ House of Animum . . . (Viewers)
Fortitudo Clan/ House of Greyhatt . . . (Guilds- Munchkins)
Lux Clan/ House of Gale . . . (formerly House of Ozma- Gillikin)
Mortem Clan/ House of Shiz . . . (Alma Mata- Gillikin)
Nature Clan/ House of Terrae . . . (Vinkus- Thousand Year Grasslands)
Papay Clan/ House of Somniabunt
Phlogiston Clan/ House of Pyre . . . (Fire- Desert surrounding O.Z.)
Sapientiam Clan/ House of Quinolui . . . (Quadling- Realm of the Unwanted)
Spiritus Clan/ House of Aeris . . . (Air- Lake Country)
Tenebris Clan/ House of Fugae . . . (Witch's Dark Tower- Gillikin)
